Our Day

He wouldn’t have to go until 6pm, but he started getting ready at 4. Everything was going to be perfect. Everything had to be perfect. He flossed, brushed his teeth, and hopped into the shower. He scrubbed so hard his arms were turning red, but at least he smelled like “tropical rainforest aloe.” After the intense washing, he picked out his favorite brown shirt, dark jeans, pea coat and navy scarf and did a twirl in front of the mirror – sexy would have been an understatement. He thought about how to gel his hair but realized he only had one hair style. Then he proceeded to shave the few strands of fuzz that he confused for real facial hair. He forgot he had brushed earlier so he brushed his teeth again. Now he was ready; he looked at his watch and it was only 5. That hour was probably the longest hour of his life. He paced feverishly around his apartment trying to get the nerves out. 5:50…Close enough he thought, and he walked a whopping 10 steps down the hall and knocked on the door and waited. His heart was pounding, his palms were sweaty, and his knees were buckling. What should I say? he thought. Hi? Boring. Hey there? Creepy. How you doing? Double creepy. Then the door opened, “He…” “Hey you’re early, hold on,” she said. Really the best you can do was “he?”, he thought to himself. That’s not even a proper greeting. 14 years of schooling and you can’t even say hello. As he was chastising himself, he saw that her computer had facebook open with music playing and it seemed like she was all ready and waiting in advance too. She got her bag and came out, “Ready, where are we going?” “I told you, Rathbone, just kidding, it’s a surprise.” She had on a black and white striped shirt with a ridiculously long purple and white scarf hidden behind a pea coat. She was beautiful.

They walked out of the building and were greeted by a light snow flurry. The restaurant, Itnas Ottos, was only a block away but it was a cold and windy walk. He remembered every detail of the restaurant. They sat at a corner booth made of very hard wood. There was a heavy set man sitting at the bar, smoking and chatting with the blonde waitress. Across the room was another couple eating pizza. There was a tv over the counter in the front; it was the Bills vs the Cowboys on. She ordered eggplant parmesan and he ordered shrimp scampi. The waitress said the scampi was a great choice –she lied. The food was sub par, but their conversation made every bite worthwhile. He found out she loves vegetables, her favorite color is brown, her secret dream is to be a singer, and she played every sport in high school. She found out he is an only child, likes the color blue, and hates eggplants. The more they talked the more they felt comfortable with each other. He felt like he already knew her very well but still had so much to find out. She described what her hometown was like and tried to convince him how wonderful it was –he wasn’t sold. He told funny stories of his childhood, and every time she laughed, he gave himself a mental pat on the back. To prolong the date they ordered coffee and chatted some more. Sip, talk, laugh, sip, talk , laugh he got into a nice routine and thought to himself, man I can’t wait to write about this in my blog. Just kidding, what he really thought was how lucky he was to have met this girl with the ridiculously long scarf. By that time they were the only patrons in the restaurant. He continued talking and drinking coffee until his bladder was full and his teeth were started to stain yellow: maybe that’s why he brushed twice. But even good things come to an end and they headed home smelling like smoke, coffee, and shrimp scampi. The snow had stopped by then but the ground was covered with a fine powder which added an extra tranquility to the already serene Sunday night. He wanted to hold her hand but was too shy; next time, he thought, next time. They walked to her door and told each other what a wonderful time they had. He gave her a warm hug goodbye and watched her face light up. He played it cool as he walked slowly from her door but in his mind he was…

My Professor

So I don’t have a huge story behind this, but I just thought it was very funny and wanted to share it.

Yesterday I had a professor, a guy around his 60’s who gave a lecture on diabetes mellitus. He was an endocrinologist who had been practicing for a while. Everything he would say diabetes (pronounces diabeetEES), he would say diabeTIS instead. It seriously made me laugh. The word’s been around for a very long time, and almost no one says it like that. If you meet 100 people, odds are 99 will say diabetEES. Oh you don’t think diabeTIS is funny eh? Go ahead, say it out loud. Repeat after me, diabeTIS. It’s definitely rated LMFAO. And everytime this guy said it, I cracked up during lecture. Can you imagine how many times he said diabeTIS in the diabetes lecture (a lot)? I’ve been trying to explain this to classmates who weren’t at lecture, but they didn’t find it as amusing as I did. The sad thing; however, is that I’m finding myself saying diabeTIS too.