<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606</id><updated>2011-12-19T18:17:51.151-08:00</updated><category term='bad horror movies'/><category term='bipolar disorder'/><category term='gender roles'/><category term='meat'/><category term='relationship'/><category term='Trivial Pursuit'/><category term='dinner'/><category term='night float'/><category term='wedding'/><category term='death'/><category term='night'/><category term='guilt'/><category term='environment'/><category term='abortion'/><category term='break-ups'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='fishing trip'/><category term='purging'/><category term='inauguration'/><category term='sleep'/><category term='progesterone'/><category term='Boston'/><category term='dissociative identity disorder'/><category term='chiari'/><category term='Nags Head'/><category term='passive aggression'/><category term='Waffle House'/><category term='Myrtle Beach'/><category term='Valentine&apos;s'/><category term='family'/><category term='bad day'/><category term='bracelet'/><category term='last name'/><category term='dating'/><category term='grocery'/><category term='sinus infection'/><category term='guns'/><category term='sister'/><category term='work'/><category term='voting'/><category term='exercise'/><category term='key'/><category term='MLK day'/><category term='Brewery'/><category term='Cod'/><category term='recycling'/><category term='WoW'/><category term='golf'/><category term='Lighthouses'/><category term='octuplets'/><category term='politics'/><category term='rape'/><category term='badge'/><category term='economy'/><category term='infant death'/><category term='St Patrick&apos;s Day'/><category term='Birthday'/><category term='Tourette'/><category term='epilepsy'/><category term='depression'/><category term='trip'/><category term='ear'/><category term='UT'/><category term='heater'/><category term='parents'/><category term='movie'/><category term='flying'/><category term='passion'/><category term='third year'/><category term='monopoly'/><category term='paper towels'/><category term='call'/><category term='Asheville'/><category term='tires'/><category term='flowers'/><category term='Rodney Carrington'/><category term='spending the night'/><category term='OCD'/><category term='snow'/><category term='love'/><category term='PMS'/><category term='headache'/><category term='money'/><title type='text'>My ramblings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>75</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-4317051883891845383</id><published>2010-01-03T13:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-03T14:02:48.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bridal Show</title><content type='html'>Well, today (and yesterday) were the first steps in my journey of planning a wedding. I guess I could say that they first step was actually meeting and dating Heath, but I have already blogged about that. In the next few days, I will probably create a new blog and add this post too it. I always figured my first step would be the proposal, however that has not happened yet. Since I know the ring has been purchased and Heath wants to get married in 2010, I needed all the time I could get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend Heath and I went to &lt;a href="http://www.foreverbridal.net/"&gt;The Bridal Show&lt;/a&gt; in Raleigh, NC. It was a great event to go to, especially for a bride-to-be like me, who has no clue where to start. I have not been to any weddings in the Triangle, so I really am starting from scratch. Since my budget does not include enough for a wedding planner, I am on my own. Well, not completely on my own, Heath went with me both days, although he kept telling everyone I was the made of honor. I have not figured out my budget, but I do have a ballpark figure in mind. I will post more, when I have an idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The purpose of this blog will be to chronicle planning a wedding with a limited budget and limited time. The time will be about nine or ten months, however if plans do not come together, then it could be over a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bridal Show was a great place to start. There were tons of vendors for flowers, cakes, locations, caterers, DJ's, appearal, and more. I registered for many prizes, which I know gets them my contact information, but will also give me a chance to win some necessary items. I have already received a $50 gift card for &lt;a href="http://davidsbridal.com/"&gt;David's Bridal&lt;/a&gt;. Heath signed up with &lt;a href="http://menswarehouse.com/"&gt;Men's Warehouse&lt;/a&gt;. While we obviously have to determine if they have what we want, we have chosen them at this time because all of the attendants and parents are out-of-town and coordinating schedules with our jobs and lifestyles is a headache. Heath and I attempted to win a Blu-Ray Player, but Heath did not act silly enough-I did my part by loading him down with make-up. We did win an engagement session with a free photo. I will be commenting on the session in days to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hope is that others can use this website as a tool in helping plan their big days. I definitely want to recommend those that have been most helpful.  I do not plan to blog negative things about vendors, however if I do have a bad experience, then I will post it as I seem relevant. If I do go and meet with a vendor and that vendor was great, but did not fit with what I needed, then I will mention the vender in my blog, with the positive things, so that other brides and grooms may have access to the information.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-4317051883891845383?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4317051883891845383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2010/01/bridal-show.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4317051883891845383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4317051883891845383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2010/01/bridal-show.html' title='The Bridal Show'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-1840869647111018877</id><published>2009-07-08T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T19:52:03.426-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='headache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exercise'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='third year'/><title type='text'>Life is busy</title><content type='html'>I have a headache for several days that just refuses to go away. I know it is because I am not getting enough sleep. I will try to remedy that soon. Work has been hectic-I started doing both inpatient and outpatient at the same time. It is a juggling act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am working out daily which has not given me the results I want. I am exercising about 45-60minutes daily and am not losing any weight. I need to pay more attention to what I am eating. Heath wanted to know if I was still doing the treadmill. I told him no, due to the fact there is not anything interesting on television. I like doing step aerobics right now. I think he should stay out of my exercise routine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath's mother's birthday is coming up. We are spending it with her. I had to come up with a gift, however I have only met her once. I could not figure out what to get her, but then I remember that she always plays with pink golf balls. I went to Golf Galaxy and got some pink golf balls and pink tees. I think she will like it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-1840869647111018877?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1840869647111018877/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/07/life-is-busy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1840869647111018877'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1840869647111018877'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/07/life-is-busy.html' title='Life is busy'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3166493878485478197</id><published>2009-07-05T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-05T20:19:50.940-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fishing trip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cod'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spending the night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boston'/><title type='text'>Cape Cod</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SlFkSyn0nGI/AAAAAAAAAD8/zW9rboqhZiQ/s1600-h/redone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5355171705909451874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 242px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SlFkSyn0nGI/AAAAAAAAAD8/zW9rboqhZiQ/s320/redone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The fishing trip was a success- at least in the cod catching department. I am not sure how Heath's family feels about me. I do think that his brother and nephew like me though. We caught 80 cod and I spent today cleaning some of them. I do not remember signing on to do that when I started dating Heath. We did not catch a tuna, but I honestly do not know where we would have put the tuna because the cod filled up over three coolers, which was all we had. I caught the largest fish of the day-see above picture. I do realize that someone else is holding it-I prefer to not put pictures of people on the blog so I opted for this picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I forgot how much I enjoyed fishing. I am ready to go again. I think I would prefer not to catch 80 fish though. I have not fished in over 11 years and while my reason for stopping was a justifiable one, I am glad to be doing it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent 15 hours driving there and about 14.5 hours driving back. How can you tell that you really love someone? Well, I think I figured it out in the car-riding in the car (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;specifically&lt;/span&gt; the cab of a pick-up truck) for 30 hours in the span of 65 hours and not wanting to leave him to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent another 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July not seeing fireworks. Hopefully next year I will see them, but I guess it isn't the end of the world if I do not see any. We did not get to see any of Boston either, which is a shame. I do not thing Heath has been, but seeing as he finds history and museums boring, I am sure I would just be hearing "are you done yet?" so maybe it was for the best. I have seen Boston, so I did not go on the trip to see Boston. Heath said that maybe we would plan another trip for sightseeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the night at Heath's house last night for the first time. It was too late to drive to Durham to drop me off. I have only been in Heath's room twice. I am not quite sure I like being there. It reminds me that he has had a past with lots of girlfriends. I know it is stupid, but I look around and wonder which girl gave him that and which girl picked out the curtains, bed spread, etc. He does not have to wonder about that when he is here. No guy (with the exception of those that helped me move and the cable guy) has been in my room and no guy has been in my bed. He tells me that girls did not spend the night-which I know is not true, but I am glad he lied anyway. As he was leaving after dropping me off today, how many girls he had taken fishing? He paused for a few moments to think and answered that I was the first. Judging past girlfriends, I do not doubt that response. Taking me fishing makes me feel pretty special because fishing is his absolutely favorite activity. I feel happy too because he took me on a family fishing trip.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to leave me cod recipes-my father requested baked cod and Heath requested fried fish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3166493878485478197?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3166493878485478197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3166493878485478197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3166493878485478197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/07/blog-post.html' title='Cape Cod'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SlFkSyn0nGI/AAAAAAAAAD8/zW9rboqhZiQ/s72-c/redone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-9105038488808652632</id><published>2009-06-30T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T20:24:08.478-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='call'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fishing trip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asheville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>All things must come to an end</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;, looking at my page, I am wondering why my ads are not in English. No wonder no one clicks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out Heath's nephew is going on the trip. It bothers me that I am sharing a room with Heath and it bothers me what message I am sending his nephew. I know I should get over this, but I am having a difficult time doing so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second year is almost up. Today, I had my last trip to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt;. While I enjoyed the flying, the people, and the experience, I definitely will not miss the early morning and the long rushed Tuesdays. I will also not miss being away from campus and the multiple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;voicemails&lt;/span&gt; and e-mails that always awaited me on Wednesday morning. I am looking forward to the end of call-which should happen shortly. Third year will be a challenge, but at least I get to face it with a full night of sleep every night. I will be juggling clinic and inpatient work everyday, but I think I am up to the challenge. I was very content on the Psychotic Unit several weeks ago, so I believe no call and doing some inpatient work will make me a happy resident.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-9105038488808652632?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/9105038488808652632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/all-things-must-come-to-end.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9105038488808652632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9105038488808652632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/all-things-must-come-to-end.html' title='All things must come to an end'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-9062384257114136129</id><published>2009-06-29T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T20:14:44.209-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night float'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><title type='text'>I'm frustrated</title><content type='html'>Well, night float is over. Thankfully, I will not be working nights for a week at a time in the next two years. I wished I could have slept the whole weekend, but apparently it was not meant to be. I did get on the WiiFit 3 of the 5 days that I was post night float. I also worked out yesterday. I missed Saturday-Heath was at the house and we had a lot of errands to run. I think my tiredness combined with Heath's cranky mood made for a bad weekend-we fought the majority of the time. He has a sense of humor where he makes little remarks that can be mean. I believe it was once said that all jokes contain some truth, so I find his remarks to be mean sometimes-especially when I haven't slept. Joking aside, I was also upset that he expected me to go to the store and cook dinner Friday night-I had slept 6 hours in a 72 hour period and had only eaten 10 animal crackers in a 25 hour period-I was looking forward to eating something I did not cook. The solution was for Heath to eat Beefaroni. Saturday night, I started preparing dinner. I asked Heath if he would eat it-I fixed a Mexican dish and he only took one small bite. I have never had a person not eat my cooking so this frustrates me to no end. I am trying to make things I think he will eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath became mad because I was on the phone with my father and I told my father that Heath hates my cooking and once again was not eating what I fixed. Heath became mad and said that was turning my father against him and this relationship would not work if I talk about him to my parents. Heaven forbid that he find this blog. I guess I will try to make an effort not to blog about him. I honestly do not think the relationship will work if he demands me to cook and then does not eat my cooking. Looking into the future, how do you explain to your children that they have to eat the vegetables at the dinner table when Dad opens a can of pasta and eats it over the sink? My mother suggests I make "simple things," but I am having trouble even finding simple things he will eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent the weekend watching True Blood. Heath enjoyed it, so we ended up watching 9/12 episodes. Well at least entertaining him is easy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-9062384257114136129?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/9062384257114136129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/well-night-float-is-over.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9062384257114136129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9062384257114136129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/well-night-float-is-over.html' title='I&apos;m frustrated'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-7586905688370258713</id><published>2009-06-23T02:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T23:17:21.143-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='epilepsy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chiari'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='infant death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='golf'/><title type='text'>Tiredness</title><content type='html'>I am so tired of being on call. I am looking forward to a life (or at least a year) where I can sleep at night. I know that I chose this profession, but at the time I do not think I fully realized the effect sleep deprivation would have on me-especially with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chiari&lt;/span&gt; and Epilepsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am becoming more nervous about meeting Heath's father next week. What makes it worse is Heath and I will be sharing a hotel room. I definitely do not want Heath's family to get the wrong idea about me. The truth is that I am unable to afford a second hotel room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like to play some golf this weekend, but looking at my schedule, I do not know when we will be able to fit it in. I guess we can always go to the driving range.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can not stop thinking about a friend of mine whose 6 month old daughter passed away. It is amazing to me that in 2009, the number of children under the age of 1 that die each year. Working in the hospital, I am aware that babies die, but it does not register until someone you know experiences such a horrible loss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-7586905688370258713?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7586905688370258713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/tiredness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7586905688370258713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7586905688370258713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/tiredness.html' title='Tiredness'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-8343678662819449985</id><published>2009-06-22T03:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T03:32:20.638-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><title type='text'>Is This Love That I'm Feeling?</title><content type='html'>I guess I need to get back to updating my blog since apparently people want to know what is going on with me. Life has been extremely busy lately and I have been trying to figure out transitioning from second year to third year in my residency program. I am looking forward to the end of night float and call.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have had a slow night, so some of it was spent surfing the web. I have found the perfect wedding photographer-no I am not planning a wedding-but if I was, I would definitely give her a call. Her photographs are amazing- &lt;a href="http://rebeccaclaire.wordpress.com/"&gt;RebeccaClaire&lt;/a&gt;. I read some of her engagement stories, which made me misty-eyed. Proposals have never made an emotional impact on me, but I think that is perhaps because I never really cared about people finding love. Well, until now. So, what happened? I met someone-well actually I met someone six and a half months ago-and just about every post on this blog is about him. I am head over heels for Heath. I knew I loved him, but I came to this realization of head over heels about a week ago when I was waiting for him to finish playing golf, so we could go play golf. We had spent the previous day at a barbecue with all my co-workers. He was the first boyfriend I had introduced to co-workers. I never really cared to introduce the others to anyone. The others met my parents pretty much just because my parents were in town. I did not care for anyone to meet my sister, who I consider to be the most important person in my life-that should have been a wake-up call to how not important they were. I do not think Heath got the importance of going to Knoxville when we went the first time until he realized on the way home that no one had been to Knoxville with me. At the barbecue, he was wonderful and everyone loved him. While waiting for him to finish his golf game, I couldn't stop thinking about him-the dinner on Friday, the barbecue on Saturday, and the upcoming golf game that afternoon. I am so happy when I am with him. I am excited when I see him at the door and I am sad when the dates are over and he is walking to his car. I sent him an e-mail on Sunday night trying to tell him my feelings, but I definitely did not do my feelings justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one little problem. I am so scared of scaring him off and my sister did not help with these fears. We joke about marriage-he started these jokes, but she made several comments about it. I am also scared about the way I feel, so much so that I just want to run away to prevent being hurt. The way I feel about Heath fails in comparison with the way I feel about any other guy with the exception of CLB. I did not think it was possible for me to feel this way again. I wish the fears that he is just going to up and leave would just go away. He reassures me all the time, but it does not help much. I think my biggest fear is that he is going to die and I do not want to go through that again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, forgive my rambling post. I will try to update more regularly. I do have a lot to say, just not a lot of time to say it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-8343678662819449985?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/8343678662819449985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-this-love-that-im-feeling.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8343678662819449985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8343678662819449985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/06/is-this-love-that-im-feeling.html' title='Is This Love That I&apos;m Feeling?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-6126235933335890565</id><published>2009-03-22T20:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T20:57:51.572-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='paper towels'/><title type='text'>Recycled Paper Towels are difficult to find</title><content type='html'>This morning I cleaned up the kitchen, then made it messy again by making French Toast. Then Heath and I headed to Staples for paper towels. I have been searching for recycled paper towels for almost a month and have not been able to find them. Heath saw an add for recycled paper towels at Staples and sent it to me. We headed to Staples and then headed to BJ's. We also went to Target. I came home and cleaned out the car and did some laundry. I did some cleaning, but I plan to do the bulk of my cleaning and organizing when I come back from Atlanta.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-6126235933335890565?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/6126235933335890565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/recycled-paper-towels-are-difficult-to.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6126235933335890565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6126235933335890565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/recycled-paper-towels-are-difficult-to.html' title='Recycled Paper Towels are difficult to find'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-7934383199304812081</id><published>2009-03-21T20:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T20:52:34.979-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grocery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><title type='text'>A busy day</title><content type='html'>Heath spent the night. I woke up to him crawling into bed-he did not let go of me the rest of the night. We spent the day running errands. He was a little peeved saying that he got things done during the week, so he could spend the day with me. Well, that would be nice, but it is not practical for me. Heath does not go to the grocery store and one trip to BJ's once every two months takes care of household items. The errands were not that bad a trip to the hardware store and a trip to Best Buy. Best Buy was for him-he needed a new bluetooth headset. He griped about the grocery store, but he was the one that demanded I cook every once in a while. Food does not magically appear in the pantry and fridge. After the store, we played the Wii, which seemed to make him happier. I made dinner, which was yummy, and then we watched ghost stories on television.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-7934383199304812081?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7934383199304812081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/busy-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7934383199304812081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7934383199304812081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/busy-day.html' title='A busy day'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-4316467689474666824</id><published>2009-03-20T20:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T20:42:35.502-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='rape'/><title type='text'>What a way to ruin a movie</title><content type='html'>Heath and I are not speaking tonight, which is sort of odd because he is still over here. He was here when I arrived home from work. He seemed to be in a better mood since he could sit on the couch and play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WoW&lt;/span&gt;, instead of sitting in the car and watching he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;DVR&lt;/span&gt;. He wanted to go see a movie. Technically, it was my turn to choose the movie. He did not want to see my choice. Neither of us wanted to sit through the 3 hour Watchman movie either. He had really wanted to see this other movie-Last House on the Left. I watched the preview and it was about a girl being kidnapped and her dad getting revenge. I enjoyed Taken, so the premise was not upsetting. Seeing that it was by Wes Craven, however did not sit well with me. Wes Craven is obsessed with rape. I told Heath that I did not want to see anyone getting raped. He said, oh they would not show that in this movie. Stupidly, I believed him. Well about an hour into the movie, the main character is raped. For about a minute, I looked at Heath-he did not look away from the screen-ugh! I stormed out of the theater (actually it was a pretty calm walk-he came after me about 15 seconds later. He was making his way to the exit of the cinema-I was leaning against the wall. I told him that he could watch the rest of the movie, but he said he did not want to since I did not want to see it. I still can not get the images and sounds in the movie out of head. I let him choose the movie last time and it contained three people committing suicide by blowing out their brains. Two scenes I do not want to see in movies-rape and suicide by shooting self in head. We walked in silence to the car and then rode in silence to the Mexican restaurant. Then we ate dinner in complete silence-not a single word was spoken-with the exception of telling the waitress our orders. We came back to my house and I assumed Heath would go home. However he sat down on the couch and turned on his computer. After about 45 minutes of watching Heath read the news, I changed my clothes, walked on the treadmill, took a shower, and crawled into bed. So far, he has not left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-4316467689474666824?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4316467689474666824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-way-to-ruin-movie.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4316467689474666824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4316467689474666824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-way-to-ruin-movie.html' title='What a way to ruin a movie'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-2320331189221196389</id><published>2009-03-19T21:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T10:00:19.437-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='key'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationship'/><title type='text'>The key to my heart?</title><content type='html'>Today, I did something I have never done. I gave a guy a key to my house. Heath did not really think of it as a big deal, but I think it is a big step for me. I don't think he is going to invade my privacy and I would also like to think he would knock before he uses the key-my parents do. He did not ask for a key. I basically drove us (yes, I know-he complained about being tired and made me drive-not that I'm not tired, have worked 11 or 12 hour days this week and only gotten 5 hours or less of sleep a night) to the hardware store, purchased a copy of my key and handed it to him. He was upset about sitting in his car waiting for me because he does not want to drive the twenty minutes to his house from work and then drive thirty minutes back to my house. It makes sense and if it means he will not bite my head off when I am running behind due to a patient (gee, you mean I don't intentionally run behind-it is because I am with a patient), I guess I can give him a key.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-2320331189221196389?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2320331189221196389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/key-to-my-heart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2320331189221196389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2320331189221196389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/key-to-my-heart.html' title='The key to my heart?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5713446546803625676</id><published>2009-03-18T18:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T06:52:12.669-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='OCD'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Wash away life</title><content type='html'>I am beginning to dislike Wednesdays-they are entirely too long. They begin between 7:00 and 7:30am and do not end until 7:00pm. To top it off, I feel completely exhausted by Tuesday's early morning flight. I was in a laughing mood yesterday, no doubt from the exhaustion. I felt the need to laugh at topics that were very funny. Quite embarrassing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attended a lecture on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OCD&lt;/span&gt;. It is fascinating to me about how &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OCD&lt;/span&gt; ruled my life at one point, but with the help of medications and therapy, I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doing&lt;/span&gt; much better. I still have some contamination fears, but they are not so strange as to interfere with my life. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;compulsion&lt;/span&gt; of having to wash when I see a dead person-even just a picture on TV can get quite annoying, but it is not something I am having to deal with on a daily basis. I do perhaps, still wash my hands too much, but at least they are not as raw as they once were.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5713446546803625676?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5713446546803625676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-beginning-to-dislike-wednesdays.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5713446546803625676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5713446546803625676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-am-beginning-to-dislike-wednesdays.html' title='Wash away life'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-6634960540039417426</id><published>2009-03-17T18:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T18:38:02.676-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='OCD'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tourette'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chiari'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asheville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='St Patrick&apos;s Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bipolar disorder'/><title type='text'>What's on my mind</title><content type='html'>I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; today. It was a very long day due to the fact we had to leave early to drop someone off in another city. The flights were all very lovely and I did get some work completed on them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really wanted to go out for St. Patrick's Day, however with the early morning awakening and the long day, I am too tired to go out. Heath went out with his neighbor and celebrated at a local Irish establishment-I am kind of upset about it, but I am not going to say anything. Again on the phone, he brought up a lovely story from last St. Patrick's Day in which the neighbor's friend promised to flash him, but then did not keep her promise. I really could live without this story, it has been a year-get over it. I really do not want to hear that you want to look at naked women, but never look at me and not once-even complimented me on my appearance. Ugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way home, I read the treatment guidelines for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tourette&lt;/span&gt; Syndrome. The likelihood of a child who has one parent with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OCD&lt;/span&gt; and one parent with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Tourette&lt;/span&gt; Syndrome having &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tourette&lt;/span&gt; Syndrome or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;OCD&lt;/span&gt; is 70-90%. Scary numbers, but is it a reason to not have children. I will admit my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;OCD&lt;/span&gt; has been bad enough to lead to suicidal gestures. I wish I had known at 12 years old, what I know now. Even several years ago, it was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;under diagnosed&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;under treated&lt;/span&gt; in children. Same thing for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Tourette&lt;/span&gt; Syndrome. I do not think being a child with these conditions now is the worst thing and I do not believe it should affect my decision to have children. The only reasons I can think of at the moment is if my husband has Bipolar Disorder or Arnold &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Chiari&lt;/span&gt; Malformation. I have a previous post regarding Bipolar Disorder. Regarding the Arnold &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Chiari&lt;/span&gt; Malformation, the genetics is not too clear, but if my husband had symptomatic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;ACM&lt;/span&gt;, then I would put money on my child having symptomatic &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ACM&lt;/span&gt;.While, I know my case was nowhere near the worst case of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;ACM&lt;/span&gt;, it was definitely a challenge I would not want to go through again and not something I would want another human being to experience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-6634960540039417426?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/6634960540039417426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/whats-on-my-mind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6634960540039417426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6634960540039417426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/whats-on-my-mind.html' title='What&apos;s on my mind'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-277676032533411950</id><published>2009-03-16T17:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T17:49:16.912-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asheville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recycling'/><title type='text'>Ugh!</title><content type='html'>Today got off to a slow start, but then it took off. I had a full clinic this afternoon. Heath sent me an e-mail and so I called him back to find out when he wanted to come over for lasagna. He said tonight-which I was really hoping he would not say. I have a horrible migraine and have to get up at 4:30am to go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;Heath came over without calling first. I was already preparing dinner. He watched me carry out two bags of trash-tomorrow is trash day. I don't think a guy has ever watched me take out the garbage without offering to help. Of all chores-taking out the garbage is my least favorite-I actually have had panic attacks taking out the garbage. He did walk with me to the door and as I was coming back, I noticed he had put a P&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;epsi&lt;/span&gt; bottle in the blue recycling bin. I asked if he would please take the top off and rinse it out. He refused. We got in a big fight about it. It may seem like a little issue, but it is a big deal to me. He said he was going to leave, but he stayed and we spent the next hour in complete silence. What really stinks is I like him, but I have no clue how much I can put up with.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-277676032533411950?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/277676032533411950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/ugh.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/277676032533411950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/277676032533411950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/ugh.html' title='Ugh!'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-2486833834745244236</id><published>2009-03-15T17:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T17:52:45.687-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passive aggression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passion'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Shouldn't I have all of this?</title><content type='html'>Today, I dump Heath. He left this morning without saying bye which made me really angry. I did not hear from him the rest of the day. He called me later on in the evening. I think he spent the day playing video games-he told me he was going to the movies with his neighbor-which I knew was not the truth because his neighbor had company in town. I have decided that Heath is not attracted to me because for the past three weeks he has not even kissed me. In a relationship this early, he should not be able to keep his hands off me. I am not saying I would do anything, but he should at least want to. I told him that we should break up. He was not totally against it, but he was not for it either. I asked him if he liked me and he said of course. I told him to tell me why. He came up with two reasons-I'm nice and I like video games-the two well known foundations for a great relationship. He did not say anything about being attracted to me. He then brought up the name changing thing again. I plan to go by my husband's name socially. Why is it so important that I go by Dr. Husband's name instead of Dr. Wobegonrabbit? I am not using my maiden name because I am looking for a replacement. I have put 13 years into my career and I do not want it to disappear because when I change my name no one knows who I am. I really like him, but I do not feel like he feels the same way. As Mary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Chapin&lt;/span&gt; Carpenter put it- Shouldn't I have all of this and passionate kisses?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-2486833834745244236?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2486833834745244236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/shouldnt-i-have-all-of-this.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2486833834745244236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2486833834745244236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/shouldnt-i-have-all-of-this.html' title='Shouldn&apos;t I have all of this?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-158511598851761566</id><published>2009-03-14T17:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T17:48:55.663-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Myrtle Beach'/><title type='text'>Myrtle Beach</title><content type='html'>Today Heath and I drove to Myrtle Beach to see his nephew in a little league game. It was fun and I enjoyed meeting his brother and sister-in-law. We played with his youngest nephew and had a blast. He is great with children. He did tell me that he does not want a ton of children. I have not decided how many I really want.&lt;br /&gt;The trip was great until the ride home. He took out that he was tired on me and became really mean. I really had to go to the bathroom-I was doubled over in pain and he said well, I am really tired, what do you want me to do about it. Duh! pull over?? I held it for over an hour and probably, judging from all the cramping and abdominal pain, have a UTI.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-158511598851761566?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/158511598851761566/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/myrtle-beach.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/158511598851761566'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/158511598851761566'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/myrtle-beach.html' title='Myrtle Beach'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3091869534380660692</id><published>2009-03-13T17:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T17:57:00.728-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night float'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WoW'/><title type='text'>Friday the 13th</title><content type='html'>I am so glad night float is over. Heath took me out to dinner to the pub and then we came back home and watched Monty Python-although I am not so sure Heath actually watched it. I fell asleep two minutes into the movie and woke up an hour and a half later. He played &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;WoW&lt;/span&gt;. We really have to set ground rules-he can not come over to my house, ignore me, and play &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;WoW&lt;/span&gt;. I really don't want to be dating my sister.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3091869534380660692?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3091869534380660692/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/friday-13th.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3091869534380660692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3091869534380660692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/friday-13th.html' title='Friday the 13th'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-1250044891572396100</id><published>2009-03-12T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T01:28:28.122-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sleep'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night float'/><title type='text'>Sleep is wonderful</title><content type='html'>Last night was moderately busy, I had about one free hour, which is rare. That free hour was nice and I got a lot accomplished. Today I slept soundly for the eight hours that I was home and then I headed to night float. I am looking forward to my last night of night float this week.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-1250044891572396100?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1250044891572396100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/sleep-is-wonderful.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1250044891572396100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1250044891572396100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/sleep-is-wonderful.html' title='Sleep is wonderful'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-7730171812678131921</id><published>2009-03-11T13:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T01:28:49.266-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night float'/><title type='text'>I guess I am depressed</title><content type='html'>Last night was definitely not as bad as the night before, however this morning was not good. There was an incident at work in which I was accused of being a bad resident and not doing my job. It is a ridiculous accusation, but I spent all day crying over it. With all the crying, I got about three hours of sleep. I am not going to get into the incident, as I do not want to get into what happened. I will be so happy when night float is over!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my psychiatrist today. Despite being upset when I saw her, we discussed all my symptoms over the past several days and she has decided that I am definitely more depressed. She increased one of my medications.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-7730171812678131921?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7730171812678131921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-guess-i-am-depressed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7730171812678131921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7730171812678131921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-guess-i-am-depressed.html' title='I guess I am depressed'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-4755430976382801821</id><published>2009-03-10T15:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T03:09:16.841-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>I'm really tired</title><content type='html'>Last night was very hectic. There were a ton of patients to be seen in the ED and four direct admits. To top it off there was a lot of drama in the ED and on the units. I was able to get home and get to bed at a reasonable hour. The phone rang several times waking me up and the yard guy came and knocked on the door to see if I wanted my lawn mowed in two weeks. I overslept tonight. I really did not want to go into work. Hopefully, it will not be as bad at last night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-4755430976382801821?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4755430976382801821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-really-tired.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4755430976382801821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4755430976382801821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/im-really-tired.html' title='I&apos;m really tired'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-4809376368250285907</id><published>2009-03-09T15:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-11T03:05:27.438-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ear'/><title type='text'>My ear is getting better</title><content type='html'>Last night was pretty hectic. At least it was not overwhelming. The patients showed up one right after the other. I had an appointment with ENT this morning. My ear is 95% healed and I can almost let the doctor clean out my ear without squirming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-4809376368250285907?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4809376368250285907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-ear-is-getting-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4809376368250285907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4809376368250285907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/my-ear-is-getting-better.html' title='My ear is getting better'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-2648492709380113574</id><published>2009-03-08T20:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T02:28:42.335-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night float'/><title type='text'>A week of working nights</title><content type='html'>I started Night Float, oh joy! I do not respond well to handling suicidal patients for a full week and having my sleep and work schedule disrupted. Hopefully I will make it through the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath played golf this morning and I spoke to him before I came into work. He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;accidentally&lt;/span&gt; left his jacket at my house, so I guess we will have to find a time when he can come over to retrieve it. It is supposed to get colder later in the week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath was inquiring about my vacation schedule. I think he might take a long weekend and go to Atlanta with me. I have no clue what to do in Atlanta, but I guess I better check with my mother if Heath can come visit and then start planning a fun weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-2648492709380113574?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2648492709380113574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/week-of-working-nights.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2648492709380113574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2648492709380113574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/week-of-working-nights.html' title='A week of working nights'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-222601283372907180</id><published>2009-03-07T18:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T07:13:17.425-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gender roles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='golf'/><title type='text'>Why do I have to do everything?</title><content type='html'>The day started out with an absolutely fabulous breakfast of french toast, grits, and bacon. Too bad, it took almost an hour to make. Heath seemed to enjoy it. I was able to get some housework done too including dishes and laundry. While cleaning up the kitchen, Heath started asking about my coffee maker and the cost of the K-cups. He does not drink coffee, so why should he really care. As he points out, his cokes cost more. I mentioned that BJ's wholesale had them, Heath said he needed a few items from there, so we decided to go there and pick some things up.  So off we went to BJ's. First, we decided to stop at Sears so they could look at my tire. It was over inflated, so there does not appear to be a leak. The rim is a little bent, but I think it has always been bent. I need help getting the hubcap on, but so far no one has offered to help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went off BJ's, which can have some really good deals, but not always. Heath picked up a lot of things. He got a few food items and some jelly beans, which apparently he is not going to share. I get the feeling he has never been without a girlfriend because he had a lot of difficulty picking out toilet paper and paper towels-he told me to tell him what to get. I had planned on getting paper towels, but was unable to find any that contained recycled paper. I did get coffee though- 80 K-cups for about $36. Despite that good deal, I am not completely sold on frequenting BJ's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath and I had stopped by the cinema to see what movies were playing, but found nothing that we both wanted to watch. I mentioned that we should hit some golf balls. While walking through BJ's, Heath brought up my suggestion of golf. He was ready to play a round of golf. I had to tell him that I am nowhere near ready to play on a golf course-I still can't swing the driver and only hit the ball about 80 yards with any club. I also told him that I needed golf clothes, which apparently he did too. We head to Kolh's and I got some polo shirts and he got some shorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath and I then headed back home. He was driving my car and some teenage girls waved at him. That didn't make me very happy. Once home, I changed into golf clothes and so did Heath. First however, he told me to take the tags off his clothes-honestly, what did this boy do without a girlfriend for over a year??? Wear tags on his clothes and not buy toilet paper! I took the tags off his clothes, he changed, and off we went to the driving range. I'm getting better, but I still need work. I figured we would go out for dinner and I still needed to get a few things. He started heading toward my house, which I thought he was picking up his wallet which he left in the pocket of his pants. Once at home, he informed me that he was not going anywhere else nor was he going to drive. I started to cry, not hysterically, just quietly. I had a ton of stuff to do and not a thing to make for dinner. If we are going to stick to gender roles, then he should do the driving (especially since he likes to make comments about everything I am doing wrong). We should pretend to live in Saudi Arabia and not let me have any rights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did go out and get dinner and finished all the errands. I put gas in the car and ended up spilling it all over me. For all those that know that I hate pumping gas, well I really hate it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came home and I started copying DVDs for work. Apparently Heath was rather impressed that I could copy DVDs all by myself. I am rather insulted because it isn't that difficult. I think it might hurt his ego a little bit when I prove to be computer literate. I think I will kept to myself that I have written computer programs and also used to create webpages by writing html code.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-222601283372907180?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/222601283372907180/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-do-i-have-to-do-everything.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/222601283372907180'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/222601283372907180'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/why-do-i-have-to-do-everything.html' title='Why do I have to do everything?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5836270240612452650</id><published>2009-03-06T19:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T07:45:18.527-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='meat'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WoW'/><title type='text'>Where's the beef?</title><content type='html'>Heath and I had plans to meet at the junkyard and then have dinner. On my way to the junkyard, Heath called to tell me that they did not have the part and that he was going home. He was mad at me because apparently I was supposed to have called to make sure they still had it. I wasn't aware of that. I persuaded him to come over. I was a little distant because I was stressed about what I was going to do with the tire. He immediately gets on his computer. I keep waiting for him to get off his computer so we could go to the store. I sent him an e-mail stating that we needed to go to the store after the junkyard. Apparently, he opened it but never read it. He played WoW while I prepared dinner.  After dinner, he played more WoW. I guess maybe if I was Flower, then I would consider playing WoW a date, but I'm not and feel it is a bit disrespectful. He has an angry outburst about not being able to go to Megan's for dinner because I would not pick up meat to grill. I was unclear about why I had to be the one to pick up meat and how I was going to do that due to seeing patients all day. I also don't see why, if he had wanted to go to Megan's so bad, then why did he not go pick up the meat. I guess part of me is upset because in all my other relationships, when grilling out especially when we went over to houses of friends of the guy, the guy always got the meat. I have never been to Megan's and since Heath does not like steak and turns his nose up at porkchops, I have no clue what to pick up. I think I now know the reason, he did not pick up the meat-he appears to be clueless about what cut of meat to get. I am shocked that someone who is still a bachelor at the age of 32, does not know how to grocery shop. I am not sure if I have enough patience to teach him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5836270240612452650?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5836270240612452650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/wheres-beef.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5836270240612452650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5836270240612452650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/wheres-beef.html' title='Where&apos;s the beef?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-967442353993183597</id><published>2009-03-05T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-08T07:27:01.447-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinner'/><title type='text'>What do I have to be guilty about?</title><content type='html'>Today was going so well, I was in a good mood, despite being a full clinic day and looking forward to having dinner with Heath. I sent him a message stating that I would be leaving around 5:15. Luckily, I was able to leave around 5:00. Well traffic was horrible and around 5:20, Heath calls wondering where I am. Just a note, it takes me longer than 5 minutes to get home. It takes about 25 minutes. I told him I was on my way and would be home in about 10 minutes. He called back, which I somehow missed the call and left a message stating it apparently was not a good day to meet for dinner. I called him back and persuaded him to turn his car around and come back to my house. Once at my house, he told me that I sounded guilty and he was not pleased with this guilt-ridden tone. Well, since I had nothing to be guilty for, I was a little upset. We did go out for dinner, but it was very quiet. I don't know what is going on, but I wish he would clue me in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-967442353993183597?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/967442353993183597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-do-i-have-to-be-guilty-about.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/967442353993183597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/967442353993183597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-do-i-have-to-be-guilty-about.html' title='What do I have to be guilty about?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-1349956303003169821</id><published>2009-03-04T19:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T19:41:08.809-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='money'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='economy'/><title type='text'>Bad Day</title><content type='html'>Today was not a great day. Two of my patients became very ill today and a third went into hospice. I also learned that my clinic is double-booked for several days in the upcoming weeks. I was asked to help teach a course in Evidence-Based Medicine. I'm not sure if I will do it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath cancelled our dinner tonight. He had a phone call and his neighbor, who was coming, had to go to a funeral.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They announced they are laying off people in our department. It is scary to see that not even medicine is safe from the bad economy. The money problem has caused the clinics to be way too busy. We have the lowest no show rate for any department. It is sad that you could be this busy and your clinic is still losing money. I don't think I will be going into private practice-it is too stressful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-1349956303003169821?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1349956303003169821/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/bad-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1349956303003169821'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1349956303003169821'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/bad-day.html' title='Bad Day'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3691972973874623158</id><published>2009-03-03T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-03T18:34:46.749-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chiari'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asheville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flying'/><title type='text'>Fly Away</title><content type='html'>I flew to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; for the day. The pilot laughed at me and said I seemed so calm in the air. I guess it is because the flights are something I really look forward to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;every week&lt;/span&gt;. It was so pretty with the snow. I thought about getting a picture, but I know it would not really capture it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw a patient today who was really disappointed in seeing me. I had several strikes against me-I'm female and I'm a resident. I have to see him again in three weeks and not looking forward to hearing how incompetent I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I arrived home, Heath was waiting for me. It is so nice to have a boyfriend that I don't have to wonder how he feels. He tells me and his actions speak loud and clear. He misses me when we are apart, but not in a smothering or possessive way. He is so attentive and he also knows when I need to be left alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ellis left my book in my door. It is obvious he never wants to see me again. I wonder if he feels bad for the way he treated me, especially when Flower was sick. He definitely is troubled. I have enough drama in my job, I definitely didn't need it in my personal life. After meeting Heath, I realize what I deserve and know that I don't have to put up with garbage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath told me that one of his co-worker's daughters is having surgery for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;chiari&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;malformation&lt;/span&gt; tomorrow. The girl is very nervous about the surgery and so is her father. Heath told the co-worker that I had the surgery. I wasn't nervous about the surgery before it happened. I was too caught up in all the symptoms and how miserable I was. If I had to have the surgery again though, I probably would be nervous. I told Heath that if they needed someone to talk to, they could give me a call.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3691972973874623158?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3691972973874623158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/fly-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3691972973874623158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3691972973874623158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/fly-away.html' title='Fly Away'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-670538650087703674</id><published>2009-03-02T19:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T19:44:23.947-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><title type='text'>Did I make a mistake?</title><content type='html'>I told Heath about my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;bulimia. I don't know how he feels about it, but I tried to stress that I have done well for so long and I am doing well now. Several days of purging should not change that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;We had snow today, so Heath did not come over this evening, nor did Ellis return my book. In a phone call to Heath, he told me how much he missed me-no prompting on my part. I hope he was sincere and I hope that the purging has not changed his mind. I feel like he trully cares for me and I guess if he does trully care for me then he would not leave me over this health problem.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-670538650087703674?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/670538650087703674/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/did-i-make-mistake.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/670538650087703674'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/670538650087703674'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/03/did-i-make-mistake.html' title='Did I make a mistake?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5327089912688393422</id><published>2009-02-28T20:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T20:25:35.705-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passive aggression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heater'/><title type='text'>Dating is so confusing</title><content type='html'>Well, as predicted, the day got off to a slow start. Heath and I went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Breadman's&lt;/span&gt; for breakfast. Neither of us really cared for our meal. We then went to Lowe's and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart looking for space heaters. He became angry because at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wal&lt;/span&gt;-Mart, I would not ask if they had any space heaters. Once we got into the car, he punched my house into the GPS and sped off. I asked if we could go to Home Depot and he said no. When we got to my house, I got ready to get in my car, thinking he would go with me. He grabbed his computer and got in his car to go home. Upon seeing this, I slammed the front door so hard, the house shook. I called him and asked why he wouldn't help me, but he didn't really respond and told me bye. I called three times and he didn't answer. At this point, I was feeling a lot of things-actually I had been feeling them all day-I really wanted to cut and purge. My depression has become so bad that I really just want to die. I am trying to reach out for help, but I feel so overwhelmed. Well, I called my mother, asked her about heaters and when Heath finally called me back, he agreed to help me if I went to the mall up by his house. We met at the mall got the heater and a cinnamon bun (his idea) and then we went to a bar and I bought him a beer. We definitely need to work on our communication skills-I love him, but there are a few things that are driving me crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I learned today that Ellis is in a relationship. Oddly enough, all I can think is she must be insane to want to be with him. I realize that I dated him, but he is broke, is losing money in his business, his father is a convicted felon for trying to kill his mother, he drinks constantly, and he seems kind of gay. I guess everyone has their prince charming and maybe he is her prince.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home from Raleigh, Paul called me. We talked for about 2 hours, which is weird because when we were dating, he really didn't like being on the phone. I miss him, not in a romantic way, but in a friend way. I don't think he ever thought of me in more than a friend way despite the fact we were boyfriend and girlfriend. He became my friend on F&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;acebook&lt;/span&gt; and it was kind of upsetting that he was saying things to another girl that he used to say to me and was using his nicknames for me for her. I know-I have Heath and I should not be upset, but it is upsetting to learn that you were not special.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5327089912688393422?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5327089912688393422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/dating-is-so-confusing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5327089912688393422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5327089912688393422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/dating-is-so-confusing.html' title='Dating is so confusing'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3103936496376951033</id><published>2009-02-27T19:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T20:02:21.940-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sinus infection'/><title type='text'>Revenge of the sinuses</title><content type='html'>Well, I finally went to the doctor today and it turns out that I have had a sinus infection for 2 months. No wonder my headache will not go away. Well, I started on antibiotics, which will hopefully help.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;jambalaya&lt;/span&gt; for Heath for dinner. He had several helpings, so I am thinking he liked it. We then went to go see the movie Push and we didn't get home until midnight. Now, I know I will be too tired to do anything tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3103936496376951033?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3103936496376951033/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/revenge-of-sinuses.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3103936496376951033'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3103936496376951033'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/revenge-of-sinuses.html' title='Revenge of the sinuses'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-8647445418593416018</id><published>2009-02-26T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T20:26:23.946-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>How important am I?</title><content type='html'>Tonight I was asking Heath what he had told his parents about me. He couldn't understand why I thought it was so important. He said he had mention me to his parents. I guess I am a little disappointed because I want him to go on and on about me to his parents and other people. He stated that he didn't talk about such things with his parents. I talk about him all the time to lots of people. I want to know that I am always on his mind and that I am important to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Heath brought up chiropractors. I knew he had been curious about Ellis, the chiropractor I had been dating. I told him that I did date Ellis, but it wasn't that serious and we never even considered each other boyfriend/girlfriend. I could tell he was upset that I had been in a semi-relationship so close to when we started dating. He asked if we broke up if that was all he would be-some guy I went on a few dates with. I reassured him that this relationship is more than any relationship and deeper than any I have had in quite a while. I am not sure if he believes me, nor am I completely sure he has the same feelings about me that I have about hum. I am unable to change the past. I just tried to reassure him that I love him and I only want to be with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-8647445418593416018?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/8647445418593416018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-important-am-i.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8647445418593416018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8647445418593416018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/how-important-am-i.html' title='How important am I?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-1910275256592733219</id><published>2009-02-24T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-26T20:48:08.329-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='progesterone'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asheville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Back in the air</title><content type='html'>I finally returned to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; today. The flights were marvelous-beautiful as always! My ear pain was very minimal. I saw patients at my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;attending's&lt;/span&gt; private office in the morning and then saw a new patient at the family medicine center in the afternoon. I was thinking more about the progesterone link with binge eating. A patient gained weight after starting on progesterone cream. I really need to finds some time to do some reading on progesterone. I also need to get back to studying for Step 3. My birthday gift from my parents was the registration fee for Step 3. Since I don't want to have to retake it or Step 1, I need to get myself in gear and sign up and start studying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met Heath's aunt and uncle this evening for dinner. They were the first family members of Heath's I had met. I think it is a good sign, especially since I haven't met very many of his friends. I am anxious to meet his parents, but I will not push it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-1910275256592733219?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1910275256592733219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/back-in-air.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1910275256592733219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1910275256592733219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/back-in-air.html' title='Back in the air'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-4421620971472453856</id><published>2009-02-22T20:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T19:02:34.675-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bracelet'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asheville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><title type='text'>It's my birthday</title><content type='html'>Today is my birthday. Heath gave me my gift on Saturday. I predicted that he would get me a heart bracelet, but he did manage to surprise me with a Galileo Thermometer. We had seen one in a store and he remembered my saying that I had always wanted one since I was a little girl. I put it in my living room and it has yet to register a temperature higher that 64 degrees. The bracelet is gorgeous. It is a silver link bracelet with a heart charm. He wrapped it is a yellow bag with yellow tissue paper with a metal tag that read "Just For You." My most favorite part of the gift, however was the card. It reads: "You're My Beautiful Surprise. The last thing I expected was to find a woman like you. But here you are, sharing life with me, waking up my heart with your sweetness, filling my world with a love more tender than I ever dreamed of. Being with you brings a sense of contentment that only you can give. And in return, all I can do is promise to love you- with all my heart, the best way I can. Happy Birthday Love, Heath...&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaNhnYCRddI/AAAAAAAAAD0/zas7pPKybQE/s1600-h/bracelet.jpg"&gt; &lt;/a&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306192115067352530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaNhnYCRddI/AAAAAAAAAD0/zas7pPKybQE/s320/bracelet.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Today, Heath took me to Taco Bell for dinner-that's what I wanted. Then he got me a yummy cake from Cold Stone-it was a Chocolate Chipper cake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaNhnL8MeiI/AAAAAAAAADs/NfAqz_Kg3og/s1600-h/100_0203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306192111820634658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaNhnL8MeiI/AAAAAAAAADs/NfAqz_Kg3og/s320/100_0203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was an absolutely fabulous day-with lots of birthday wishes. The only sad part is my father didn't wish me a happy birthday. Tomorrow will be a great day. I return to Asheville and then for dinner I will be meeting Heath's uncle-it will be the first family member of Heath's for me to meet. His uncle requested to meet me after seeing my Facebook posts. Hopefully, I will win over Heath's family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-4421620971472453856?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4421620971472453856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-my-birthday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4421620971472453856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4421620971472453856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-my-birthday.html' title='It&apos;s my birthday'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaNhnYCRddI/AAAAAAAAAD0/zas7pPKybQE/s72-c/bracelet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-371015023573649528</id><published>2009-02-22T20:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T20:46:23.375-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guns'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nags Head'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tires'/><title type='text'>Country Roads Take Me Home</title><content type='html'>Heath and I returned home today. We slept in until about 9:30 and then we had breakfast at Grits Grill. It wasn't that great and was not a place I would recommend. The food was too salty and mine tasted fishy, despite ordering Creamed Chipped Beef on Toast. We left Nags Head around 1:00pm. We passed by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Mackey's&lt;/span&gt; Landing Firearms and of course Heath wanted to stopped. I don't have a problem with guns, but today looking at this massive collection of guns my thoughts wandered to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt;. I found myself wandering how he did it and what was going through his mind and what it felt like. It was definitely overwhelming and I was very happy that after about five minutes, Heath wanted to leave. The ride home was pretty uneventful. We stopped in Rocky Mount and I had a hot fudge sundae from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt;. We arrived to Heath's and I found that I had a flat tire. Heath filled the tire with air and informed me that I need a new rim. I'm not excited by the news. Hopefully, I will figure out where to get a new rim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-371015023573649528?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/371015023573649528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/country-roads-take-me-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/371015023573649528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/371015023573649528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/country-roads-take-me-home.html' title='Country Roads Take Me Home'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-7308301239604152739</id><published>2009-02-21T19:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T20:13:22.418-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nags Head'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Brewery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lighthouses'/><title type='text'>My Birthday Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIcGrmvWUI/AAAAAAAAADU/OH4lR5-jgIk/s1600-h/100_0176.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305834212105869634" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIcGrmvWUI/AAAAAAAAADU/OH4lR5-jgIk/s320/100_0176.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Heath and I had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; day on the Outer Banks today. We woke up around 8am and headed out to find breakfast around 9:30am. Heath's two favorite breakfast places were closed, so we ended up eating at a Western &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sizzlin&lt;/span&gt;-which was okay, but nothing to really write about. We then decided to head to The Wright Brothers National Memorial. I have often wondered about what the Wright Brothers felt when they arrived in rural North Carolina to test their flying machines. While that really didn't get answered, I did find out how they chose who made the first flight. They took turns and apparently Wilbur's flight before the successful, wasn't something to write home about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIcGWwJ20I/AAAAAAAAADM/vSjvk9m-cYs/s1600-h/100_0182.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305834206508211010" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIcGWwJ20I/AAAAAAAAADM/vSjvk9m-cYs/s320/100_0182.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbroeQ6yI/AAAAAAAAADE/qiZC6FaGQUk/s1600-h/100_0183.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305833747408546594" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbroeQ6yI/AAAAAAAAADE/qiZC6FaGQUk/s320/100_0183.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The Flight Path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbrrAL7hI/AAAAAAAAAC8/6sXAjhWE390/s1600-h/100_0187.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305833748087696914" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbrrAL7hI/AAAAAAAAAC8/6sXAjhWE390/s320/100_0187.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then decided to drive to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Carrituck&lt;/span&gt; Lighthouse. It was a delightful drive. We stopped in Duck and did a little shopping. Heath bought me a an Outer Banks sticker for my car. We had some ice cream-it had a little freezer burn, but all in all it was still good. Much better than the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;fruit flies&lt;/span&gt; in my Manhattan the night before at Pirate's cove. We arrived at the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Carrituck&lt;/span&gt; to find that the lighthouse was closed for the season. That is why the picture below is not all that great. It is definitely a place that I would like to visit. There were several buildings around the lighthouse that were restored and look like they would be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbrao4fKI/AAAAAAAAAC0/G-kxDBrkKxE/s1600-h/100_0191.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305833743694986402" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbrao4fKI/AAAAAAAAAC0/G-kxDBrkKxE/s320/100_0191.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heath and I then decided to head to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Bodie&lt;/span&gt; Island Lighthouse. It is close to his father's house in Nags Head. The surrounding area was clear, which made for a better picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbBUM6GkI/AAAAAAAAACs/uMMLcjKm5Z0/s1600-h/100_0192.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305833020412533314" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbBUM6GkI/AAAAAAAAACs/uMMLcjKm5Z0/s320/100_0192.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We headed over to the marina that Heath and his family go to when they have their Thanksgiving fishing holiday. There wasn't too much to see. It was much too cold for most people to fish. Only four boats had gone out that morning and none had returned yet. I did snap a picture of Heath's car. We took his 350Z instead of the Highlander. It is a very fun car, even if I did have to grab the seat &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; he accelerated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbBAxV4gI/AAAAAAAAACk/z3Wbvbsr_zM/s1600-h/100_0196.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305833015196639746" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbBAxV4gI/AAAAAAAAACk/z3Wbvbsr_zM/s320/100_0196.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went back to the beach house and Heath took a nap while I took a few pictures around the house. Here is the view from the huge back deck. There are two dunes that are very difficult to see in this picture. The are at Jockey's Ridge State Park. In the warmer months, this is a very popular place with hang-gliders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbA02GKiI/AAAAAAAAACc/sLlAOyyv57w/s1600-h/100_0199.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305833011995355682" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIbA02GKiI/AAAAAAAAACc/sLlAOyyv57w/s320/100_0199.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Heath then gave me my birthday present, which I will post more about later.  We headed to The Weeping Radish Brewery for dinner. I told Heath that I wanted German food for my birthday and this is what we found. I had a pint of Black Radish and we ordered a sausage poppers, which Heath enjoyed. I had a cup of Beer, Cheese, and Bacon Soup, which was delicious. I also had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Jager&lt;/span&gt; Schnitzel and Heath had a Sausage sampler. The food was wonderful and there were tons of it. I recommend it to anyone who is planning a trip to the Outer Banks.  We returned to the beach house and watched a little bit of Forgetting Sarah Marshall and had some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Limoncello&lt;/span&gt;. Heath then decided that we should have dessert. We went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Basnights&lt;/span&gt; Lone Cedar Cafe and Heath had Creme &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Brulee&lt;/span&gt; and I had Key Lime Pie. We returned to the beach house and finished watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall. All-in-all it was a great day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-7308301239604152739?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7308301239604152739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-birthday-trip.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7308301239604152739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7308301239604152739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-birthday-trip.html' title='My Birthday Trip'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SaIcGrmvWUI/AAAAAAAAADU/OH4lR5-jgIk/s72-c/100_0176.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-8703922518358998662</id><published>2009-02-20T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T17:48:58.279-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nags Head'/><title type='text'>On our way</title><content type='html'>Heath and I drove to Nags Head tonight. I have no clue what we are doing tomorrow. Hopefully it will be fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-8703922518358998662?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/8703922518358998662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/on-our-way.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8703922518358998662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8703922518358998662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/on-our-way.html' title='On our way'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-1657510156841540619</id><published>2009-02-19T22:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T20:25:15.659-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Full Day</title><content type='html'>Today was another hectic day in the clinic. I ran a few errands with Heath after work. I was rambling so much to patients and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;attendings&lt;/span&gt;.  My dictations are awful. Well one more day to go and then I have two whole days off!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-1657510156841540619?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1657510156841540619/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/full-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1657510156841540619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1657510156841540619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/full-day.html' title='Full Day'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-9203634390427252167</id><published>2009-02-18T10:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T20:23:59.598-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='call'/><title type='text'>Sleeping the day and night away.</title><content type='html'>I clearly need a day off. I slept from the time I got home today until it was time to go to bed. I am looking forward to a trip to the coast this weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-9203634390427252167?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/9203634390427252167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/sleeping-day-and-night-away.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9203634390427252167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9203634390427252167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/sleeping-day-and-night-away.html' title='Sleeping the day and night away.'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-198954045187122265</id><published>2009-02-17T15:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T15:41:37.079-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='call'/><title type='text'>I don't want to take anymore call</title><content type='html'>Call was awful and now I am going to bed! I can't wait for the weekend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-198954045187122265?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/198954045187122265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-want-to-take-anymore-call.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/198954045187122265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/198954045187122265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-want-to-take-anymore-call.html' title='I don&apos;t want to take anymore call'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3323542701217574779</id><published>2009-02-16T18:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T19:12:50.858-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='headache'/><title type='text'>Another headache</title><content type='html'>Sleeping in Heath's arms last night was wonderful. I am definitely happy with my decision.  Laying there last night he asked how I felt about him. I told him that I really like them. He told me that it was difficult to tell because I seem to be always be mad at him about something. I guess that is true, but I don't tend to get upset unless I really care about something or someone. Nothing physical happened and I am still standing firm on this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I developed a headache today-I'm sure from the stress of having to interview a patient in front of the head of my department-which was cancelled. I am stressed about being on call again tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3323542701217574779?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3323542701217574779/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/another-headache.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3323542701217574779'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3323542701217574779'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/another-headache.html' title='Another headache'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3090362134767617405</id><published>2009-02-15T17:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T18:10:02.286-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='night'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Sleep tight</title><content type='html'>Heath is spending the night tonight. No, I have not changed my mind about the premarital sex decision. I was sad because he had to leave early Friday night, but I knew I had to get a good night's sleep for call. He told me that he could spend the night Sunday night. I was looking forward to sleeping in his arms. I wanted time to think about it, but he wanted an answer on Saturday night. At the time, he didn't realize it was a big deal to me-I've never had anyone spend the night. Tonight, when he found that out, he apologized for pressuring me for an answer. He was wanting to get together an overnight bag and take it when he went to play golf this morning. He told me that he didn't realize what a big deal it was for me and had he known, he would have given me more time to think about it. I am happy with my decision and looking forward to sleeping in his arms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3090362134767617405?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3090362134767617405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/sleep-tight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3090362134767617405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3090362134767617405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/sleep-tight.html' title='Sleep tight'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5741910246553029952</id><published>2009-02-14T22:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T10:26:18.337-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='call'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Valentine&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='badge'/><title type='text'>Lovely Valentine's Day</title><content type='html'>So I am on call on Valentine's Day. It isn't too bad, but I do wish Heath would surprise me. I know the likelihood of that is one in a trillion. Especially since his actions spoke loud and clear this morning. I forgot my badge and only realized in after arriving to work with 5 minutes to spare-it takes 45 minutes round trip on a Saturday to get my badge, so there was no way I could get. I though about ways to get it and I thought "Heath doesn't have plans today, I will call him," so that is what I did. He was not happy about the wake-up call with his girlfriend crying on the line. I told him what happened and unfortunately he didn't volunteer to help, in fact he refused to do it. I would have paid for gas, bought him breakfast, but no luck. I did find another way to get the badge, but the whole day, I was  upset about his actions. When you don't lend a helping hand to those you supposedly care about, can one really say they care about you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5741910246553029952?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5741910246553029952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/lovely-valentines-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5741910246553029952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5741910246553029952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/lovely-valentines-day.html' title='Lovely Valentine&apos;s Day'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-7200569515693492170</id><published>2009-02-13T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T10:16:19.587-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Valentine&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='flowers'/><title type='text'>Thumb bunny loves you</title><content type='html'>We had to celebrate Valentine's a day early due to my being on call on the actual holiday. I arrived home barely before my 5:15 deadline of arriving home.  Heath arrived several minutes after me-I only had half of my make-up on when the doorbell rang. Heath arrived empty-handed, which I was a little disappointed by, but only having &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;half&lt;/span&gt; my make-up on, I had other concerns. I ran back in the bathroom, put on blush and lipstick and found Heath pouring water on the cat-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;grr&lt;/span&gt;. He can't leave that cat alone-I wish the cat would not get on his car. When he came back in, he said "what is that on the table?" This is what I saw:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303087306644258514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SZhZzvVp_tI/AAAAAAAAABQ/66_xN4R-NOE/s320/100_0165.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SZhZzcKIj8I/AAAAAAAAABI/NCO_k2NOz4c/s1600-h/100_0161.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303087301495656386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SZhZzcKIj8I/AAAAAAAAABI/NCO_k2NOz4c/s320/100_0161.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was also a card and a big box of chocolates (still don't know what to do with the chocolates). The card was a thumbprint made to look like a bunny and said "Thumb bunny loves you." We then headed to the car and once we were on the road, I knew where we were going. We arrived at the Melting Pot and Heath had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;preordered&lt;/span&gt; our meal. We had a bottle of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Proseco&lt;/span&gt; and yummy fondue.  We also received tickets to a private screening of The Notebook for this Saturday, not sure if we are going to do that though because we were going to the coast for my birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-7200569515693492170?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7200569515693492170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/thumb-bunny-loves-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7200569515693492170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7200569515693492170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/thumb-bunny-loves-you.html' title='Thumb bunny loves you'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SZhZzvVp_tI/AAAAAAAAABQ/66_xN4R-NOE/s72-c/100_0165.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3955302060837341818</id><published>2009-02-12T20:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T20:12:18.210-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Valentine&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='headache'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chiari'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='voting'/><title type='text'>You give me fever</title><content type='html'>Today was a tiring day. I only slept about a total of 60 minutes divided into three 20 minute sets due to a fever and a headache. I think I might have an ear infection, but I am feeling better now, so it might have just been a little bug.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath has been busy making Valentine's plans for tomorrow night. I am excited to see what he has planned. With the exception of the Valentine's Day in which I fell in the lab which lead to my injury (the fall was actually on Friday the 13&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;) that lead to the discovery of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chiari&lt;/span&gt; and brain surgery, most of my Valentine's Days have been good. I hope that trend continues.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath again brought up the fact he doesn't know who I voted for in the presidential election. I don't see why this is such a big deal to him. I think maybe I am getting too much enjoyment from his complaining about not knowing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3955302060837341818?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3955302060837341818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-give-me-fever.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3955302060837341818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3955302060837341818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/you-give-me-fever.html' title='You give me fever'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-881718229425049376</id><published>2009-02-11T19:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T19:36:56.675-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Valentine&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinner'/><title type='text'>I've got a crush on you</title><content type='html'>I got off of work earlier than expected around 6pm, so I drove into the city to meet Heath and his neighbor, Ann. It was a nice evening for the most part. We went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TGI&lt;/span&gt; Friday's, which was pretty good. Heath order a beer, which he hardly ever does, except for when we are around Ann. The conversation was pleasant for most of the evening, thankfully Heath generally doesn't tell me that I am wrong in front of people. My mother said I have to decide if I want to accept this flaw of Heath telling me I am wrong-so far the jury is still out. At one point Ann said something about sharing Heath (it was an innocent comment and I can't remember what context the sharing was-I think it was something like Heath was lucky to be out with two girls). Without thinking, I shot back with "I am not sharing Heath." I said it in a pretty catty way. I don't think of Ann as a threat, but truthfully I am not sharing and don't like any insinuation that I am going to share. When I got home, Heath called me to make sure I made it home okay. He was talking about his car ride home with Ann, who had consumed 4 glasses of wine and was a little tipsy. Apparently she asked Heath who he would rather date if she was single. He told me that he would pick me (duh, he's not an idiot). She accused him of having a crush on her-something I am not entirely convinced of either way. I do think it was an odd thing to tell me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath says he has a surprise for Valentine's Day. It will be interesting to see if this plan is for Friday or for Sunday. Either way, I am excited. Too bad I am on call on Valentine's Day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-881718229425049376?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/881718229425049376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/ive-got-crush-on-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/881718229425049376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/881718229425049376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/ive-got-crush-on-you.html' title='I&apos;ve got a crush on you'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-528786488363782711</id><published>2009-02-10T18:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T18:52:53.504-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='break-ups'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Two minute break-up</title><content type='html'>Well, Heath and I broke up for a whole two and half minutes. I blew up because he kept telling me I was wrong about how I couldn't find a cable/satellite TV deal that would save me money. I think I would know since I spent the whole day looking. He has this habit of always telling me I am wrong. Last night he told me I was wrong and that the court could order my ex to pay back the money. He figured a few days in jail would make my ex pay me back-ha! He definitely hasn't met my ex. I have looked into this-spent weeks agonizing over it and in the state of Georgia, the court will order him to pay, but they don't do anything that helps with collecting the money-technically he doesn't have to pay. Nothing would make me happier than to get my ex to pay me back, but the time and money it is going to take is something I don't have. Well, back to the break-up tonight. I told him I didn't like how he was always telling me I am wrong and screamed for him to "get out." He grabbed his computer cord (which he always leaves over here) and told me I could keep everything else. He told me that he didn't like it when I raised my voice. I told him to sit back down. We agree we have a communication problem-I don't exactly know how to fix it. I apologized for raising my voice. He said he would try working on telling me that I am wrong-of course in the conversation he again kept telling me that I am wrong. A few days ago he tried to tell me that I was wrong about Resident Physician work hour rules(I think I would be the expert in this seeing that I have to go by them), so I don't think this habit is going to be so easy to break. I do think we would be able to communicate better if I didn't constantly have him telling me that I am wrong. We got in an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;argument&lt;/span&gt; about a medical issue and since I knew I was right and he kept telling me I was wrong-I sent him an e-mail with a link to my online medical textbook to prove I was right. Now I get that I don't know every medical answer, but I know enough to have a medical degree and I think perhaps accepting somethings I say without arguing about it. I don't disagree about computer things, although sometimes I would love to-I think he must think I am an idiot in the computer department, but considering I was writing my own programs at the age of 7 and did 99% of the technical support for my labs, I can do more that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt; and e-mail.  I don't know how this is going to turn out-I am not ready to call it quits, but I am getting tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-528786488363782711?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/528786488363782711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-minute-break-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/528786488363782711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/528786488363782711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/two-minute-break-up.html' title='Two minute break-up'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-938988708158236345</id><published>2009-02-09T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T10:25:04.846-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purging'/><title type='text'>Doctor's Appointment</title><content type='html'>I saw my doctor this morning and I am pretty sure she wanted to admit to the hospital for purging (which unfortunately in this state is legal). Of course it would be for totally for medical reasons-hypokalemia, history of seizures. She wanted to check my blood, which of course would be totally out a whack, so I declined. She wants me to abstain from purging (duh! I would really like to) and to call her if it continues. She also wants me to see a therapist-which would be great, but unfortunately my schedule stinks-well in the fact it doesn't line up with the therapist's schedule-I am working on it. She also suggested that I stop dating Heath and start dating someone more supportive (that wasn't a huge newsflash to me). Maybe I should just take a break from dating in general, although the idea of spending my birthday alone is not appealing-maybe my mother is available. I guess I will wait and see who comes around and if someone wants to date me then fine and if not then I will get other things in order in my life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-938988708158236345?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/938988708158236345/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/doctors-appointment.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/938988708158236345'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/938988708158236345'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/doctors-appointment.html' title='Doctor&apos;s Appointment'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5853882427129451766</id><published>2009-02-08T18:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T18:40:56.362-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='purging'/><title type='text'>Why bother?</title><content type='html'>Well, I ran off the road today-probably because I was crying to hard to actually see the road. I messed up my hubcap, but the car and tire seem to be fine. Earlier in the day, I had been running errands-most revolving around Valentine's Day gifts for Heath. He was playing golf this morning and said he would be finished around 2 or 3. He is expecting me to be at my house when he finishes-see last Sunday's post where he was upset that I wasn't available when he got off the golf course. He calls me around one today, I still had a few more errands. He gives me the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ultimatum&lt;/span&gt; of be home or he is going home. I'm hungry-still hadn't eaten and had a few more things I had hoped to get done. Since I know that I won't have much of a chance to see him during the week, I go home. It was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; the wrong decision-I was hoping we would go grab a late lunch or an early dinner, he figures he will grab a long nap on the couch. Then I mention something about going out to eat. He mentions he wants crab (okay, I'm allergic, but I figure I would look up a place for us to go-I can eat chicken or a hamburger and not complain). Then about 15 minutes late he states-"well, I need to go." I asked &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;what&lt;/span&gt; about dinner and he states that he wasn't hungry. I didn't tell him goodbye and I stormed out of the house when he left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I headed to Taco Bell to get something to eat, driving there I knew I was going to throw it back up. I don't know what has me more upset-Heath or the fact I have purged 5 times in the past week. I have beaten this purging thing for 5 years. Well, I was crying and that's when I drove off the road. I came home and called Paul.  About Paul-he pays compliments-pretty much they are in a controlling pattern and it was a really unhealthy relationship. Oddly, it made me feel better. Of course I still ate the food and threw it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5853882427129451766?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5853882427129451766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-bother.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5853882427129451766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5853882427129451766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/why-bother.html' title='Why bother?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-6500247367623416503</id><published>2009-02-07T21:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T18:09:31.831-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passive aggression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='movie'/><title type='text'>I'm not into you</title><content type='html'>I went to go see "He just not that into you" with Heath. It was a cute movie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;despite&lt;/span&gt; the fact Heath wouldn't shut up about the part of the movie of "she not that into you if she is not sleeping with you." He said he was just kidding, but of course psychology textbooks state that there is always truth in joking. I paid for the movie and then took Heath out to dinner (pretty much because I wanted to have a say in the restaurant. Several weeks ago I said something about not going to steakhouses. In general, I am not a fan of steakhouses, but at the mall there is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Firebird's&lt;/span&gt; which is actually pretty yummy. It is my favorite restaurant in Durham (if you don't count Nana's and Piedmont-which you have to take out a small loan to afford). Well in talking about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Firebird's&lt;/span&gt; several weeks ago, Heath said that we could go sometime because steakhouses have other things on the menu and he likes chicken and pasta. So Heath looks at the menu and states that they don't have anything he will eat. They have chicken pasta and 6 different kind of cheeseburgers. All of which are quite delicious. He knew I was paying, so it couldn't be the $30 entree that I chose that was making him irritable. I was afraid that he was going to be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;truly&lt;/span&gt; passive aggressive and not order-he did eventually order and cheeseburger and he ate it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-6500247367623416503?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/6500247367623416503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-not-into-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6500247367623416503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6500247367623416503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-not-into-you.html' title='I&apos;m not into you'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-2058053140390204354</id><published>2009-02-06T23:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-07T09:56:43.429-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Valentine&apos;s'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rodney Carrington'/><title type='text'>My Angel Friend</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ERuo_FrrT6s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ERuo_FrrT6s&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tonight Heath and I went to go see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Rondney&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Carrington&lt;/span&gt;. The show was pretty good despite a few raunchy songs that I didn't appreciate. I also was upset that Heath commenting that he appreciate a girl next to us flashing her chest. I didn't think she was all that great. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, anyway back to the show. I posted a song that Rodney sang about a friend he lost. He ended the show with it. I thought it was a good song and it makes you appreciate those you have lost in your life. No surprise, it made me think of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt;. If I find the lyrics, then I will post them. They made me think of the impact &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; has had on my life. I have always associated Valentine's Day with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt;. A few years ago, around Valentine's Day, I was pretty depressed, I believe my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;bupropion&lt;/span&gt; had been stopped. I had been crying all night and was oblivious to the fact it was Valentine's Day. I stepped out my door to walk to work/school. Something caught my attention the corner of my eye-it was a balloon stuck in a huge tree next to my apartment. The balloon was very similar to me-it was the same design of the balloon &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; gave me for Valentine's Day 1995. For some reason it didn't make me sad-it made me smile. People can tell me it was just a coincidence, but it made me think that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; was looking down on me and wanted me to feel better.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Needless to say &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; had a huge impact on my life. It doesn't take psychoanalysis to determine why I am a Psychiatrist. It is probably why I am willing to commit patients at the drop of a hat. There are a billion other ways &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; had an impact on my life, but I think I will it at this right now. Before I heard this song this evening, I was going to post about abusive relationships, but since I know that topic brings me down, I won't write about it now. Maybe I will post more on that topic later this weekend.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-2058053140390204354?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2058053140390204354/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-angel-friend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2058053140390204354'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2058053140390204354'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-angel-friend.html' title='My Angel Friend'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-7879743526122037624</id><published>2009-02-04T23:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T13:36:47.047-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='octuplets'/><title type='text'>Long day!</title><content type='html'>Well, I didn't get the snow I was hoping for and all my patients showed up for clinic. Needless to say it was a busy day.  The afternoon was packed full of lectures. I was very happy for 7:00pm to show up. I find my 12.5 hour days to be exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got a random message from another resident on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Facebook&lt;/span&gt;. It wouldn't have been so odd except for the fact I didn't know this resident. I guess I will reply back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath sent me an e-mail asking if I had called into a local radio show. The topic of the morning was the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;octuplets&lt;/span&gt;. I went back and listened to the audio and the girl sounds nothing like me (or Flower for that matter). Second of all she sounded uneducated and her sister was undergoing fertility treatments. I doubt my sister is undergoing any fertility treatments. I am hurt that Heath can't identify his own girlfriend's voice on the radio.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-7879743526122037624?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7879743526122037624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/long-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7879743526122037624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7879743526122037624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/long-day.html' title='Long day!'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-8036090017501890609</id><published>2009-02-03T18:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T19:04:20.296-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waffle House'/><title type='text'>I really wanted a waffle</title><content type='html'>It is snowing again and I am dreading going to work tomorrow. Today was a semi-productive day. I was cleaning the house until Heath called me around 2pm to tell me he was coming over because they were evacuating the building at work. I'm still not able to fly, so I am still stuck at my normal workplace on Tuesdays. I didn't have any patients scheduled, so I stayed around the house and close to my pager. I didn't get very many pages and didn't have to go into the hospital. Heath and I already had plans that he would stop by after work, just didn't know that it would be so early in the day. I quickly changed to make myself more presentable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier in the day I thought about how I would really like Mexican food or Waffle House. Well, Heath must have read my mind because he suggested we go to Waffle House. He had Mexican food for lunch. The food was fine, but the service was lacking. The Waffle House wasn't busy and there were three people working. Our drinks sat empty for most of the meal and the tables were all filthy. We looked at our food for several minutes before the waitress came back and asked if we needed anything. We politely asked for silverware which she acted like was a huge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;inconvenience&lt;/span&gt; to her. It took over two minutes to bring us forks. She then disappeared for her break as did one of the other servers. Heath flagged down the cook and asked if we could have our waffles. I miss Atlanta at times like these. Atlanta Waffle Houses are awesome because their employess train everyone else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came back to my house and both promptly got on our laptops. It reminded me of my sister, Flower and her ex-husband (also a computer engineer). They would come home and both would have laptops open, just typing away. I was playing on F&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;acebook&lt;/span&gt;, trying to avoid real work. My friend Jimmy commented on several of my post and has been sending me messages all night. I adore Jimmy and have gone out with him multiple times over the past year despite having other "exclusive" boyfriends. He is just too &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;irresistible&lt;/span&gt;. He asked me out again and at this point, I don't know what I am going to say. I do want to go out with him, but maybe just as friends at the moment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-8036090017501890609?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/8036090017501890609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-really-wanted-waffle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8036090017501890609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8036090017501890609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-really-wanted-waffle.html' title='I really wanted a waffle'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-6771904705881001577</id><published>2009-02-02T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T19:25:33.174-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PMS'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ear'/><title type='text'>My ear is getting better!</title><content type='html'>My day was more or less boring. I had a post-op check-up on my ear. He said it is healing beautifully and I should be able to fly in two more weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to Heath some, but since I am not feeling so well, I didn't grill him about anything. He offered to come by and see me for a few minutes this evening on his way home (which technically I am 30 minutes out of his way). I felt too bad to see anyone. I curled up in bed with ibuprofen and a chocolate bar. With my general foul mood the past several days, I am wondering if I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;PMSing&lt;/span&gt;.  I have a period one in a blue moon, so I am not used to the ups and downs, but in the past I have noticed that I am a total (depressed) witch the week before I have a period. Maybe I am just in a bad mood for no hormonal reason. However if the crying doesn't stop, I am going to have to purchase a bushel of cucumbers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-6771904705881001577?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/6771904705881001577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-ear-is-getting-better.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6771904705881001577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6771904705881001577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/my-ear-is-getting-better.html' title='My ear is getting better!'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5691561930019130383</id><published>2009-02-01T17:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T17:17:28.818-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>I don't get it</title><content type='html'>I didn't see Heath today. He called me when I was out and when I called him back 30 minutes later, he decided it was too late for him to come see me-it was 3:30!!! I don't get it. We spent most of the night on the phone, so I know he wasn't out with another girl. He also admitted that he didn't like my cooking. I have never had anyone who dislike my cooking, especially since try to make things people like. I don't know what to do. I am wondering though if I am secretly sabatoging this relationship because I am scared because I have feelings for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5691561930019130383?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5691561930019130383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-get-it.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5691561930019130383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5691561930019130383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-dont-get-it.html' title='I don&apos;t get it'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-788375407841621385</id><published>2009-01-31T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T19:49:32.001-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='passive aggression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><title type='text'>Passive aggression is soooo yesterday!</title><content type='html'>Call was not so great last night. I didn't get to sleep, so I spent the morning sleeping. Heath wanted to go to a movie, so I didn't get much sleep. I guess I will make up for it tonight. We went to go see Taken. It was an okay movie-I didn't like all the gunfire. I told Heath several weeks ago that I didn't like to see guys shot in the head. I don't think he gets it. When I see someone shot I go back to CLB's death. Even though I wasn't there, I can still see it in my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I spent the afternoon with Heath and despite the gunshots in the movie, I was thinking about how I might be falling in love with him. He even mentioned a possible trip to Boston in July. Then of course the date went south. To explain, I need to back up. On Wednesday, he sent me a very passive aggressive e-mail. I told him that I didn't appreciate it and it told me that I misinterpreted it. I figure, okay, maybe I did- e-mail can be difficult to communicate through sometimes.Well, tonight after the movie, I was hungry. I figured Heath would be leaving early due to a golf game tomorrow morning, so I figured I would go to Taco Bell after he left. Well we came back to my place and I mentioned that I wanted a Manhattan. So we decided to go to the ABC store, which is right next to a pizza place. Well, we decided to get some pizza. We, unfortunately could not agree on a pizza because he believes pizza should have sausage. We picked out two small pizzas. The guy asked "to go or for here." I figured we would be going back for drinks and pizza so I said "to-go." Heath said "for here." I said that I thought we should take it back, that way we could have the drinks with the pizza. Well, Heath's response was "well if that is the case we just want the Italiano (my pizza) to go." He then preceded to give me the silent treatment. Someone I dearly love is passive aggressive and I will put up with it from her, but I don't want to put up with it in a relationship. He gets mad when I snap at him, which I try hard not to do, he has got to learn that I will not put up with passive aggressiveness. I made him a drink, which he poured down the drain (death to the person who wastes my Maker's Mark!). He left after I fell asleep on the couch (hey, did you miss the part where I didn't sleep last night).  He didn't call me when he got home this evening. I guess I will find out how mad he is if he doesn't call me after he plays golf. Meanwhile I am currently being asked out by a guy I met several months ago. I wish I could remember his name!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-788375407841621385?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/788375407841621385/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/passive-aggression-is-soooo-yesterday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/788375407841621385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/788375407841621385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/passive-aggression-is-soooo-yesterday.html' title='Passive aggression is soooo yesterday!'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-8198845640993884129</id><published>2009-01-30T11:51:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-31T11:55:01.197-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dissociative identity disorder'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Love or money?</title><content type='html'>I have found the most hilarious blog: &lt;a href="http://dabagirls.wordpress.com/"&gt;http://dabagirls.wordpress.com/&lt;/a&gt; It is proving to be entertaining. I am hoping for a few more few moments so I can enjoy a few laughs. I do have to agree with it is better to date old money, however not being able to find old money in this neck of the woods, I guess I will stick with nerds who have the potential to earn money. Truth be told though, I think I might rather have love. There is a phrase I never thought I would utter since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt;. When asked in Dec 1998, I distinctly remember stating that I would marry for money-pretty much because I felt like I could never love anyone again. Ten years later and I have chosen love over money numerous times. The thought of "why can't I find both" tends not to be in my head. I guess the fact I can support myself and live the lifestyle I want plays a big part in that. Heath doesn't have money, doesn't come from money, and unless I am missing something-doesn't seem to be destined to have loads of money. I'm not saying that love is there either, but I definitely believe it could be. I have dated a few guys because of their money and was disappointed by their lack of respect of people in general and annoyed by their sense of entitlement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attended an interesting discussion today on Dissociative Identity Disorder. Thank goodness I have the curtain of "Psychiatrist" to hide behind because my fascination with the disorder is evident in my extensive collection of books on the subject. I obtained several articles on the subject at the discussion and look forward to reading them. I guess my interest in the subject came about when my therapist in medical school pointed out how easily I dissociated. I realize it is a coping mechanism and that everyone dissociates to a degree. I can't imagine how I would have handled certain things without dissociating. I guess the point here is the degree to which dissociation disrupts your life. While I have been to the store and not recalled going to the store and I definitely had things in my cabinet from that trip that I would never in my wildest dreams care to eat, I couldn't imagine if that happened on a regular basis. I look at dissociative behavior the same as passing out from too much pain. The body couldn't handle the stimulus of pain, so the body shuts the person down, temporarily. I think dissociation is the brain/body's way of dealing with the emotional and physical stress and pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it is almost time for check-out rounds. I am on call again tonight. The lack of sleep from call, my ear anxiety, my ear pain, and stress about life in general is getting to me. I am hoping for a few hours of sleep and maybe some good stories to pass on in my blog. My job tends not to be boring!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-8198845640993884129?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/8198845640993884129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-or-money.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8198845640993884129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8198845640993884129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/love-or-money.html' title='Love or money?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-9175933097843945076</id><published>2009-01-28T23:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-29T13:44:54.897-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Why do we need labels?</title><content type='html'>I had another busy day in clinic this morning. I didn't sleep well last night and am still recovering from call. We had Grand Rounds today, which was about recovery in mental illness. I had to fight to stay awake despite that I find the topic rather interesting. The speaker sang some popular songs in his talk and I can now see why he went into Psychiatry. The debate was brought up about what to call those with mental illness. Some of the suggestions are patients, clients, people, and consumers. I have used the word/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;label&lt;/span&gt; consumer in the past, but now that I am a doctor and typically have a doctor/patient relationship with these people I am more inclined to say patient. If this was a family medicine clinic, then you would say patient, so I am not sure as to why a Psychiatry clinic with a doctor prescribing medications would be any different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite being tired (pretty much because I had already said I would), I went to Heath's for dinner. His neighbor was cooking shrimp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;alfredo&lt;/span&gt;. She made chicken for me due to an annoying shellfish allergy of mine. It was raining last night, so it took me 40 minutes to get home and another 45 minutes to drive to Heath's. He said I kept staring off in space, but I had a great time. I'm sure it would have been better if the migraine and rain had stayed out of the picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-9175933097843945076?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/9175933097843945076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-do-we-need-labels.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9175933097843945076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9175933097843945076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-do-we-need-labels.html' title='Why do we need labels?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-383547016072394376</id><published>2009-01-27T20:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-03T19:13:37.886-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Trivial Pursuit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dinner'/><title type='text'>Lava Lounge</title><content type='html'>I am delighted to hear that my blog was a topic of discussion at a dinner tonight. That means I have readers! :) That also puts the pressure on to make it much more interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't have too much to say due to spending most of the day in bed recovering from call. I did go to a cool restaurant for dinner called City Beverage. I pass by it everyday, but have never tried it. Heath stopped by after work and suggested we go there. On the sign, it described itself as a Lava Lounge. The atmosphere was pretty neat. It was retro 60's style with lots of pictures on the walls and flowers hanging from the ceiling. The food was pretty good-I had a Turkey Burger with Brie and Apples on it. I also ordered a Manhattan, which was definitely the type of drink that belonged at this place. The menu offered many things I would love to try with the exception of rabbit sausage. I told Heath if he ordered it, then I was leaving. He got pork enchiladas, which looked very delicious. It is a place I definitely want to revisit, although I am not sure Heath was too impressed. They did have a pool table in one of the rooms, so maybe it won't be too difficult to convince him to return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also learned that Heath listens to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Prairie&lt;/span&gt; Home Companion, which he can describe perfectly, but doesn't have a clue where I got the name Wobegon. I am a bit confused about that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also spent the evening downloading questions for my new Trivial Pursuit game. Heath refuses to play Trivial Pursuit because he says he doesn't like the topics. I let him help me pick out categories, so he better play now. The topic of 90's music does not sound appealing to me. I guess we will wait and see. I know Flower will always be up for a game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-383547016072394376?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/383547016072394376/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/lava-lounge.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/383547016072394376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/383547016072394376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/lava-lounge.html' title='Lava Lounge'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3609199436294176960</id><published>2009-01-25T18:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T12:00:27.507-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='monopoly'/><title type='text'>Boardwalk for the win</title><content type='html'>As I write this I am watching a Very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Dugar&lt;/span&gt; Wedding. Definitely interesting perspective for a wedding-it is from the groom and his family. The bride and groom have not kissed since meeting. There was a time when I would have thought this was normal, but now I think it is kind of odd. I have definitely kissed guys that I would never want to kiss again based on the simple fact that it was a horrible kissing them. I guess the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;argument&lt;/span&gt; could be made that if the attraction and bond was there, then the kiss wouldn't be bad. I also see how my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;argument&lt;/span&gt; for kissing could be used against me in the department of not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;consummating&lt;/span&gt; the relationship.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;strange&lt;/span&gt; as it might sounds, I like watching the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Dugar&lt;/span&gt; family. While I know I would never have a large family, sometimes I think it would be wonderful to have lots of kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, normally I have not been watching television at night. Usually I am on the phone with Heath. He told me to call him after this show because he knew I wanted to watch it. So after yesterday's post, I didn't know what would happen today. He called this morning and we went out to Brigs for breakfast. He wanted to go to Circuit City and I wanted to go to Target. We did both and surprisingly got along great today. We played Monopoly this afternoon. I love playing board games and want someone who enjoys the same. I beat Heath, funny how having hotels on Boardwalk and Park Place can bankrupt someone. I had to be the thimble, while Heath was the dog. I was always the dog growing up, so I was a little sad about not getting the dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3609199436294176960?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3609199436294176960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/boardwalk-for-win.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3609199436294176960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3609199436294176960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/boardwalk-for-win.html' title='Boardwalk for the win'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-4435255428278522805</id><published>2009-01-24T18:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T18:45:32.181-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sister'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>No fairytale ending</title><content type='html'>Today started well enough, although I really didn't want to get out of bed. I was alarmed to see a friend's status stating that she was alarmed by a call from my sister. So, I gave my sister, Flower, a call. During our first phone call, she denied any problems other that her new love interest declaring his undying love to her. She has been dating the new guy for a week and they met, literally, on the side of the road after her car accident two weeks ago. The new guy doesn't have a job, nor any prospects of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;obtaining&lt;/span&gt; one. While most would agree one week is too early to confess your undying love for someone, when do you realize that it is no longer lust or desire and realize it is love? I realize there is no time frame. I guess part of me still hopes for Prince Charming to walk in the door, for it to be love at first sight and for it to be happily every after. But everyone knows that Cinderella is all about the shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Heath and I had a fight and judging by the fact I haven't heard from him in several hours, I am going to guess he is pretty upset. What gets me is that I don't think he has the right to be mad. Okay so maybe everyone in America has the right to be mad, but I don't know why he should be mad. I guess I will back up the story to say that we have spent most of our free time together and all other time on the phone. Over the past several weeks, I have had the feeling that he isn't attracted to be me. It isn't just because the only time he has put his computer down in the past several weeks was when half-naked women were on TV. I get that the Y chromosome prevents males from not looking at half-naked women. He hasn't kissed me in three weeks. So, I cut him some slack because he was sick for a week. Well, he is better now. So, I know that I am a little conservative-but that doesn't mean no kissing. He spent the afternoon pretending to be asleep on the couch. To make things worse, he laughed at me several times. He announced several times that he was going to leave and I guess decided to go after I made no comments such as "please stay and laugh at me more" and "I enjoy being rejected." To keep from bursting into tears, I had to keep playing my little motivation tape (note I don't have a real motivation tape) in my head-There is someone out there who is meant for me, who will love me more than anything, who will accept me for who I am, will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;respect&lt;/span&gt; my career, will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;apprecitate&lt;/span&gt; all I do, but not expect it because I am his wife, and *giggles* will let me keep my last name! All kidding aside, he made me feel 5 inches tall and I am sure he doesn't even understand.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-4435255428278522805?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4435255428278522805/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-fairytale-ending.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4435255428278522805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4435255428278522805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-fairytale-ending.html' title='No fairytale ending'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5977857369170998493</id><published>2009-01-23T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T18:43:59.893-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Ordinary day</title><content type='html'>Not an eventful day, but since my pledge was to post everyday I thought I would say a few short words about today. Most of my patients cancelled today, so I only saw one patient today. There was plenty of drama on the voicemail though, I am never destined to have a boring day.&lt;br /&gt;I went to a discussion about bioethics. I didn't say much. The phrase we should let people die if they want stands out in my mind. I had been planning on writing on this topic, but I find it too upsetting at the moment, so I think I will pass. Maybe I will revisit it in a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made dinner-rice and bean bowls-which Heath loved and devoured. We then watched a movie Baby Momma, which was cute, but predictable. Definitely lighter than Revolutionary Road, which we plan to see tomorrow. Heath wanted to watch Saw V, but I didn't want nightmares, so he watched it when he got home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5977857369170998493?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5977857369170998493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/ordinary-day.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5977857369170998493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5977857369170998493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/ordinary-day.html' title='Ordinary day'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-2239656271542673807</id><published>2009-01-22T18:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T18:22:56.388-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ear'/><title type='text'>Only one at the table</title><content type='html'>I am beginning to hear more sounds! I guess the swelling is going down and the bleeding is less and less as the days go on. Today I have only had 2 Tylenol so far, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;so I&lt;/span&gt; guess I am getting better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clinic was okay, only half of my patients came to their appointments. I think the snow, ice, and cold are still keeping some away.  I was able to meet Heath for dinner tonight. We went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kanki&lt;/span&gt;. We had a table with all women, which was quite interesting. Heath has been ordering for me, per my request. One of the girls gave him the look of death when he ordered for me, but I happen to think it is a nice gesture. The waiters aren't able to hear me. It was fun to watch all the girls pay for their meals and have my date pay for mine, plus I enjoyed the company. We parted ways after dinner. He had another 9:00 phone call tonight. I guess I will talk to him before I go to bed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-2239656271542673807?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2239656271542673807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/only-one-at-table.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2239656271542673807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2239656271542673807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/only-one-at-table.html' title='Only one at the table'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-6024558756150162937</id><published>2009-01-21T19:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T19:49:29.088-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><title type='text'>Long days</title><content type='html'>Today was a long day and my first real Wednesday at since November. It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;usually&lt;/span&gt; begins with clinic, supervision, then 5.5 hours of lecture and then supervision again. I am usually beat by the time it is over. Today was no exception and it has ended with a migraine. I did spend most of the evening, however, on the phone with Heath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not looking forward to clinic tomorrow-I have a full day scheduled and if it was anything like last week, then it will end with my bursting into tears. Heath wants to see me tomorrow, so hopefully I will have at least that to look forward to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The snow is still pretty, but it is sad to see it melt. I know the high is 60 on Friday and the snow will not be around much longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-6024558756150162937?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/6024558756150162937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/long-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6024558756150162937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6024558756150162937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/long-days.html' title='Long days'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5383977522190133470</id><published>2009-01-20T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T20:26:46.573-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='inauguration'/><title type='text'>A New Era</title><content type='html'>I dug my car out of the snow and am all ready to see my 8:00am patients. Well, maybe not mentally. Luckily, I was not called into work today. I was tired from all the not sleeping since the surgery and the large amount of stress I am feeling, so I laid down and took a nap and I do believe I slept for 3 hours straight! Of course, I missed the Inaugural parade and my best friend, Yvette's phone call. I probably would have slept until tomorrow morning if Heath hadn't called when apparently I was in a state between dreaming and could actually hear the phone. He had a phone call to China tonight and snow is keeping him on his side of town. I probably won't get to see him for several days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Inauguration was magnificent. I'm watching the Inaugural balls right now and the President and First Lady are just so cute! You can tell that they are in love. There were pictures from when they first started dating and they were such a cute couple-and they still seem to be acting that way now. I know I am a hopeless romantic. So back to the Inauguration, I have watched them all, with the exception of Ronald Reagan in 1981. I may have watched it, but I don't recall (I was 2). From about the age of 8 years old I wanted to be President, so I was always fascinated by the Inauguration. I am always nervous about the transfer of power, even though I know this has happened 44 times, it is still scary. I am hopeful about the new administration. After 8 years, the US is ready for a change.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5383977522190133470?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5383977522190133470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-era.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5383977522190133470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5383977522190133470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-era.html' title='A New Era'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-596893468931603504</id><published>2009-01-20T07:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T20:27:15.979-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><title type='text'>Winter Wonderland</title><content type='html'>I woke up this morning to this scene: &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SXXreTcIl-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/N3Ze1fV6FbQ/s1600-h/snowonthestreet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293395842890766306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SXXreTcIl-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/N3Ze1fV6FbQ/s320/snowonthestreet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SXXr5XEd5UI/AAAAAAAAAA4/dK7rZM6OypU/s1600-h/backdeck1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293396307721708866" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SXXr5XEd5UI/AAAAAAAAAA4/dK7rZM6OypU/s320/backdeck1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SXXr5Po6FlI/AAAAAAAAAAw/wAOmkoHiC4Q/s1600-h/treesinbackyard.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293396305727067730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SXXr5Po6FlI/AAAAAAAAAAw/wAOmkoHiC4Q/s320/treesinbackyard.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't typically wake up to snow. I love snow and would move to Canada if I could. I should be at work, but I don't have any patients scheduled today. I am praying that don't call me in. Heath is telling me that there is no way I can drive into work. Did he miss the part where Hospitals and Doctors do not get snow days? Oh well, I will post more later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-596893468931603504?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/596893468931603504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/winter-wonderland.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/596893468931603504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/596893468931603504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/winter-wonderland.html' title='Winter Wonderland'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SXXreTcIl-I/AAAAAAAAAAo/N3Ze1fV6FbQ/s72-c/snowonthestreet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-9076040133632620826</id><published>2009-01-19T19:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T20:22:03.114-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='MLK day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='last name'/><title type='text'>I'm committed</title><content type='html'>Heath called today around 11:30am and wanted to come over. Apparently he is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;unfazed&lt;/span&gt; by the events of yesterday. He said he was too sick to work, so he came over to my house to lay on the couch and take a conference call. I have been sick since last Tuesday and he just noticed! We did run by Bed, Bath, and Beyond so I could pick up my ottoman. This trip didn't spawn any fights about name changing, although I am sure that topic is far from dead. I told my mother about the argument. She thinks he might equate name changing with commitment and the unwillingness to change my name means I would not be committed. Believe me, since I don't believe in divorce, getting married is a pretty big commitment.  If name changing is needed for commitment, I guess he could always change his.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;MLK&lt;/span&gt; day, however I did not do much to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;commemorate&lt;/span&gt; it. Usually, I will turn on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ecumenical&lt;/span&gt; service or watch something on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CSPAN&lt;/span&gt;-today I did absolutely nothing. I did think about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;a lot&lt;/span&gt;. One of our most memorable dates occurred on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;MLK&lt;/span&gt; day. I have been thinking about &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; a more lately. I think I may have figured it out this evening-someone has come into my life who is very like him and I find that very scary. Not in the sense that I want him to be like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt;, but afraid that he will be. I will have to remind myself that they are different and just because &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; did what he did, doesn't mean the same path will be taken.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-9076040133632620826?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/9076040133632620826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-committed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9076040133632620826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/9076040133632620826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/im-committed.html' title='I&apos;m committed'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-8247926376047294666</id><published>2009-01-18T23:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T20:32:43.708-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='break-ups'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='last name'/><title type='text'>What is in a name?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;So I think Heath and I might be over. We had a fight, which I would not say was a fight, it was more of a disagreement. However, it was a big disagreement. Several weeks ago it came up in conversation, that I had not planned on changing my name when I got married. Heath, being like 95% of guys, holds things in. Well, yesterday we were at Bed, Bath, and Beyond (yes, I know-most girls would kill for that-a guy who would actually tag along to BBB) and he held up coasters with a "W," my last initial. He said, "look coasters for you." Now, I have a ton of coaster and am anal about people using them, but I sensed that wasn't what he was talking about. Then he said something along "well you don't like 'X'." "X" representing his last initial. I turned around, looked at him and said, "Really? You are really upset about that?" He said, "I don't think we are talking about the same thing." Knowing that we were, I decided to drop it anyway. I was already upset with him because he had made a statement about his ex-girlfriend that shows he is clearly not over her, although he claims they broke up over a year and a half ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decide to drop all topics and play "nice" during dinner which was prepared by his roommate. I leave, drive home, and then call him to tell him I made it home okay. We are talking about different things and somewhere in the conversation he makes another comment about name changing. Well, after the incident at BBB, I knew I could not avoid it forever, but I thought perhaps I could wait until my headache and nausea went away. I told him I had planned on taking my husband's name socially and use my name professionally. This is a big change from my birth to about two years ago, when I had no intention of ever using my husband's name. Even as I sit here and think about it, I don't even know if I am totally satisified with my decision to use my husband's name socially.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now to the big discussion at hand-why don't I want to change my name? First reason-I love my name. My last name (and first and middle) are the coolest names ever (in my opinion). They tell where I came from and they are my identity. My father's family is huge (&gt;200), but only one person is actually carrying on the name. I have always known that my children would not carry on my name, but I have known, that like my sister has already done, my children will have my last name as a middle name. I was baptized with this name. Most people are baptized by "first middle," but my pastor baptized me as my whole name. Which I realize, I don't go to hell if I change my name, but it is just one more little thing that reminds me that this name is my identity. I also have an established career, in which I have published, presented at conferences, obtained a MD and a PhD, received many awards and honors and obtained &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;licenses&lt;/span&gt; in my name. He also doesn't understand why I want to be called Doctor. I do have to say I find it very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;irritating&lt;/span&gt; to check my voicemail and have over 75% of the messages be directed to Ms. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wobegonrabbit&lt;/span&gt; and I would say 15% of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;voicemails&lt;/span&gt; are directed to "first name." About a third of my patients don't believe that I have or ever will go to medical school-it is frustrating. When Heath is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;condescending&lt;/span&gt; about my rants (which have all been about not being called Dr while at work), it is hurtful. I spent 11 years post-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;high school&lt;/span&gt; in school pursuing two doctorates, is it too much to be called Doctor at work-related activities?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in surfing about the name changing topic online, I came upon several interesting articles. My favorite quote comes from The Lucy Stone League:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"This tradition of name-abandonment by women is so much a part of U.S. culture, that few recognize it for what it is: a powerful instance of sex discrimination which has a major effect on women.&lt;br /&gt;When girls are growing up, they see what they have to look forward to: the abandonment of their identity into the identity of another. What incentive do they have to develop their full identities in their adolescence?&lt;br /&gt;In some prison cultures, inmates are given numbers and their names are taken from them. One purpose of this practice is to strip away a sense of importance and humanity from the inmates....the tradition of women giving up their names is equally damning."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, so I don't think I feel that strongly about it. I am not likening myself to an inmate, but it does make a point that name=identity and I don't see why I can't add to the identity instead of subtracting from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have known for many years, the hassle of changing driver's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;license&lt;/span&gt;, business &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;licenses&lt;/span&gt;, passport, and social security card, but I hadn't really thought about everything else as was brought up in a CNN article. Unfortunately I can think of 20 etc. to add to list in just 20 seconds of thinking about it. I am not an 18 year old girl with nothing in my name, I am a 30+ woman who has accomplish a lot. Wonder if the new hubby would be willing to go to work for me, so I could do all this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"The tedious legal process of switching her name took about nine months to complete. Finally, more than a year after her wedding, the 29-year-old e-mailed 160 friends and acquaintances to alert them to a new e-mail account and clarify her identity....Remember to change the title to your car, your voter registration, bank accounts, credit cards and subscriptions. Notify your college alumni office, frequent flier programs, etc."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My final note will end with this on this from a blogger on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;StevethePenguin&lt;/span&gt;. While I haven't deleted anyone, I have denied friends to receive messages of no, that so-and-so, you know them, I can't remember &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; new name!:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"I have been pondering this question for the past month, ever since another of my female Facebook friends got married, changed her name, and made me question yet again, "who the heck is so-and-so, and why is she my Facebook friend?" It's not like these people have distinctive first names, like AnnaSophia or Weeping Willow. So when they change their last names, their past identity is practically erased. They are now someone's wife, not an individual with a valid, vibrant past. Luckily these friends can't see me in person, because the disappointment is written all over my face. It's so sad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conclusion, change your name if you want-I just don't think it is the right decision for me. So, is it the end to Heath? I don't know yet. I don't plan to call or e-mail. I guess he will make that decision. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-8247926376047294666?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/8247926376047294666/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-is-in-name.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8247926376047294666'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/8247926376047294666'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-is-in-name.html' title='What is in a name?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-1362821867374834082</id><published>2009-01-17T23:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T20:29:28.849-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='call'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bad horror movies'/><title type='text'>Horrible, Horrible Call</title><content type='html'>Last night's call was horrible. Three direct admits came with absolutely no information except for "depression, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;si&lt;/span&gt;." The ED was packed with patients which were consulted on. When call began, 5 patients were being admitted from clinic and one turned out to be kind of complicated. The intern I was on with ROCKED! I have been on with her before and she is awesome at seeing and doing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;dispo&lt;/span&gt; for patients. Call was probably made worse by the pain from my ear and my cold, but I was too busy to dwell on that. I did get two bathroom breaks and 3 minutes to eat a sandwich while I typed a note. When 8:30am (time when the new crew takes over), we had three patients left to see and I had a few notes to finish. I was paged at 8:00 to be scolded about not have a h&amp;amp;p. She had a bed and was not the top priority of the night. I did see her earlier in the evening, made sure she was okay, and tried calling her mother a few times. I left between 10-10:30. I got home around 11:00 and was able to sleep for about 3 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath called and wanted to go out. I had left something in my office and needed to go back to the hospital. We stopped by there, then got a bite to eat and rented movies. One movie was very cute (romantic comedy), of course Heath was on his computer the whole time and only set it down for the scene in the strip joint. Then we watched a horror flick (yes, I love bad horror movies-don't judge me). He didn't like it, but I thought it was fine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-1362821867374834082?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/1362821867374834082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/horrible-horrible-call.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1362821867374834082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/1362821867374834082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/horrible-horrible-call.html' title='Horrible, Horrible Call'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-190212745876137109</id><published>2009-01-16T16:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T08:48:55.643-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='environment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='politics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='abortion'/><title type='text'>To tell or not to tell</title><content type='html'>So, I am trying to publish a post for Friday, however it is already Saturday. I was not able to post yesterday due to the fact I had a very busy call night. More on that in the Saturday post. I think it will definitely go down in history as my worst psych call volume wise, but more on that later. Back to Friday's post. It was a rather busy Friday despite two of my patients not showing up. I had three hours of work left over from Thursday and at most of it was not finished by the end of Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath is still sick. So far, knock on wood, I have stuffiness and a sore throat, but it isn't too bad. I called him at lunch to check on him and he was trying to hurry up with his work, so he could head home. On his way home an hour or so later he called, so I did get to talk to him, which definitely did brighten my day. I don't know how we got on the subject of color blindness, but I asked him if anyone in his family had color blindness. I wasn't even thinking of family history of illness, but he was on the defensive about it. Back to that in a sec. So over the past few weeks I have asked Heath about certain illnesses. I don't target in on heart disease or cancer. I go straight to schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. It was more of an issue, especially with schizophrenia, at an earlier age, that the guy had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;possibility&lt;/span&gt; of developing schizophrenia. Now it is more that our children would have schizophrenia, which is not always devastating, but it seems really scary to me. About bipolar, I am worried about meeting someone with bipolar, however I think after a few months of dating, I would figure it out. As far as children, well I have a sister with bipolar and my parents seem to be surviving. I guess I also do &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;interrogate&lt;/span&gt; about history of twins in ones family which isn't always genetic. So in the past few weeks these questions have popped out of my mouth and Heath has answered. To me those questions were serious, yesterday I did not even think about the color blindness being serious. He became defensive and told me he would not tell me because I would not tell him who I voted for in the last election.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can understand why one would want to know who their girlfriend/boyfriend voted for. I think the more important issue, however, is their stance on the issues. So, while dishonest, I have told some people I voted for one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;candidate&lt;/span&gt; and told other people I voted for another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;candidate&lt;/span&gt;. Now, I know "Thou shall not lie," but sometimes "Thou just wants to keep the peace." So, I think it is odd, that one wants to hear from my mouth who I voted for. Get to know me and it becomes pretty obvious. I am a psychiatrist and for the underdog. I want to help the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;underprivileged&lt;/span&gt; like no one's business. While I don't think necessarily think one party is for this and one is against it, I do believe one party is much better at it. I am pro-choice, so much so that I fear being excommunicated by my church. I write letters and am very vocal about it. I have helped patients obtain appointments (as well as remind them the choice included keeping their child or putting the child up for adoption-it is pro-choice). I have environmental bumper stickers all over my car, M&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;ySpace&lt;/span&gt; page, and various other places. Some people think Al Gore is a joke, I think he makes sense. I write countless e-mails about environmental bills to Congress, that I am probably on my Senators' "to be watched" list. I don't use compact fluorescent bulbs because I want to save money but because I cry whenever I think (or talk-so don't get me started) about mountain-top removal. While not a direct connection between bulbs and mountain-top removal, I am not always logical. If they told me wearing purple would stop it, then I would look like a grape daily. While not exactly an issue, I am a single white educated female. The majority of this demographic fall into a certain political party.  I do scientific research, which is funded well by one party and horribly by another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do realize I send mixed messages. I am conservative in the way I act and dress. I am fairly religious and don't part with my church's views on much (yeah, I know the issue mentioned previously is a big deviation). I don't believe in premarital sex, but that doesn't mean I only want &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;abstinence&lt;/span&gt; taught in school Do you know how I felt when an adolescent female wanted me to show her how to use a certain barrier device and I really couldn't. Of note, I did find someone to show her. I really think I should have learned that somewhere and perhaps before medical school, like how about when half of my high school class was becoming pregnant and a percentage of them contracting &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;STD's&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I don't know if I will ever tell anyone who I voted for (although, given my stance I think a little obvious). I have never told, except post-brain surgery where I revealed I didn't vote for Bush. I honestly don't think that was a shock to anyone. I think people need to focus on the issues. Elections come and go and you don't always get what you want, but that doesn't mean that you have to be silent in the corner...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-190212745876137109?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/190212745876137109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/to-tell-or-not-to-tell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/190212745876137109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/190212745876137109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/to-tell-or-not-to-tell.html' title='To tell or not to tell'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-2080359683466417637</id><published>2009-01-15T18:28:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T18:56:42.139-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Why am I such an idiot?</title><content type='html'>Work did not go well today. By noon I was 45 minutes late by the last patient. After catching up and almost passing out from pain/nausea/??? in the bathroom I see the 1:00 patient. By the last afternoon patient, I am once again 45 minutes behind. I am facing another 3 hours of work including dictations. I usually get dictations finished between patients and get scripts called in, which I did manage to do :) I was in so much pain and in tears from depression that I walked out. I wanted a car to hit me on the way across the street. I try to think back and I can't recall when I have hated my job so much. Heath reminded me that it is just a stepping stone. I can recall hating supervisors, but I can never recall waking up and actually not wanting to get out of bed because I did not want to do my job. I can't figure out what it is that I hate about it though. Heath suggested that maybe it is because I feel so miserable. I waved that off. The more I think about it, I think maybe he is right. I am emotionally and physically exhausted. I am in pain and I can't take pain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;medications&lt;/span&gt; because that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;interferes&lt;/span&gt; with my job. I have to keep working because I can't get anyone to cover for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had dinner plans with Heath, which he cancelled because he was sick. When he cancelled, I pouted. Truth was I was too scared to be alone, but we are too early in the relationship for him to know that. I was (still kind of am) feeling incompetent, but have now spent several hours talking to Heath, my mother, and my sister. Things don't seem so bad. I wish I could remember these times when I stop taking my antidepressant. Maybe I should make myself read my journals and blogs every week as a reminder to myself what I am like on and off medicines just like I remember what a pain it is not to be able to drive, so I take my epilepsy medicine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath did say he would stop by, but then he left before I got home. He sent me a text saying I took too long. I called and told him I had food and he came back. Note to self: food attracts men. I know I am a jerk. I should not have pouted and I should not have made him come over or come back especially since he is sick. I probably should tell him I have a sore throat since he is so worried about making me sick. The same person who made him sick probably made me sick. So we had Chinese food and I started crying during dinner. I'm sure he thinks I am crazy and wants to run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-2080359683466417637?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/2080359683466417637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-am-i-such-idiot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2080359683466417637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/2080359683466417637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/why-am-i-such-idiot.html' title='Why am I such an idiot?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-6346280443342908034</id><published>2009-01-14T18:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T19:00:41.469-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asheville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ear'/><title type='text'>I am exhausted</title><content type='html'>I had more ear surgery today and spent most of the afternoon in bed. The ear is doing better, but it is not healing as fast as we had hoped. I will not be flying to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; for at least another month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I talked to Heath on the phone this afternoon. He thought I was cooking dinner this evening. Did he miss the part where I was having surgery this morning??? Specifically in the discharge instructions, the nurse told me I was not to cook. I told him that, but he did not believe me. He then pondered about do they tell men not to shoot guns and do they also tell men not to cook. Well, I am pretty sure they tell everyone not to cook and they tell you not to do anything you would not do drunk. I found his statements kind of sexist. He also said that he wanted to go eat at Moe's tomorrow night. Hello?!? I was making meatloaf because you said you did not want to go out anymore. The meat is in the freezer and even if he wants meatloaf there is no way it will be thawed. At some point this gender role discussion will have to be addressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a full clinic tomorrow and I am not looking forward to it. I have my first intake clinic in the morning with 4 new patients and then my geriatric clinic with 5 return patients. Mentally I do not know if I am ready for clinic, but as long as I am not in pain and not crying I should be able to do it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-6346280443342908034?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/6346280443342908034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-exhausted.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6346280443342908034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/6346280443342908034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-am-exhausted.html' title='I am exhausted'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-4327897381329878830</id><published>2009-01-13T18:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T18:44:46.178-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ear'/><title type='text'>Benefit of the Doubt?</title><content type='html'>Today has been a slow day. My pager did not go off, so I was very thankful for that. My ear pain has been a 7/10 for most of the day and my fever has been 100 degrees. My surgery is scheduled for 9:50am tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not see Heath today, but I talked to him several times on the phone. Tonight he had dinner with his neighbor. I went to the grocery store (note the ear pain and fever) to buy food so I could make dinner for him later in the week. When I told him that I went to the store, he said that he was glad. He said he was giving me the benefit of the doubt that I have been feeling crappy since my last surgery, but that we can't keep going out. Um, excuse me, not once has he offered to make dinner. This is a two way street! Another thing I bet he has not realize yet is my work hours are pretty bad. I have been working a lighter load with the ear surgery and the holidays, but most days I don't get home until 6:00 or 7:00. It takes an hour to an hour and a half to cook dinner and a half an hour to eat. He likes to be home by 7:30 and he lives 30 minutes away. I guess we will have to figure out a schedule. Cooking &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every night&lt;/span&gt; will not work for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-4327897381329878830?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/4327897381329878830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/benefit-of-doubt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4327897381329878830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/4327897381329878830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/benefit-of-doubt.html' title='Benefit of the Doubt?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-5314573476514699762</id><published>2009-01-12T19:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T11:16:13.601-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Asheville'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ear'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bipolar disorder'/><title type='text'>Is Bipolar Disorder real?</title><content type='html'>It is has been a rough day! It was a rough day at work and one I would rather forget. I am happy that I am able to spend the majority of tomorrow at home tomorrow. I am still unable to fly, so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt; is still on hold. I miss &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Asheville&lt;/span&gt;, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mother is coming tomorrow, so she can go with me on Wednesday for my ear procedure. While I dread all things dealing with my ear, I am not totally against this visit. The pain in my ear the past two days has been excruciating and my fear is that something may be wrong. I would go to the Emergency Department, but cost and the knowledge that they would look in my ear keeps me from going.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to dinner with Heath tonight. We went to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hardee's&lt;/span&gt;, which I will admit was not really what I wanted, but I could not think of anything to eat. I had originally wanted to cook but between the throbbing pain of my ear and the late day at work, a trip to the store did not happen. I need to start cooking for Heath. I can tell he is getting irritated at eating out every night. Tomorrow night he is having dinner at his neighbor's house. I am invited, but they are having shrimp. Skipping it seems like the most appropriate action, since I won't be able to eat the meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath said something shocking on the way to dinner-there is no such thing as bipolar disorder. I did not give him much time to explain it after he said it. Later on the phone he explained he meant that many people say they have it when they don't and use it as an excuse. He says he believes me that bipolar disorder exists, but I don't know if I believe that he believe that. He wants to know why I think it is so important. Um, I don't know, could it be because that I treat mental illness for a living! I would like my significant other to believe what I do to be important. Given my last post, I think it might be important that he believe depression is an actual disorder too. I guess time will tell. I have been in relationships where the guy did not believe in mental illness and where the guy did not believe in medicine and I can tell you those relationships did not work too well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heath did say something sweet tonight on the phone. He said he missed me last night. He left around 6:00pm yesterday to finish up work and to let me catch up on work. We talked off and on all evening, but he said he still missed me. I guess he probably did want me to come over. Maybe I will make it to Raleigh in the next week or so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-5314573476514699762?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/5314573476514699762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-is-has-been-rough-day-it-was-rough.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5314573476514699762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/5314573476514699762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/it-is-has-been-rough-day-it-was-rough.html' title='Is Bipolar Disorder real?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-3821755682103859079</id><published>2009-01-11T19:13:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T11:18:57.346-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='golf'/><title type='text'>Depression is not good for a relationship</title><content type='html'>As I looked around my house today, something became painfully obvious. I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;spiraling&lt;/span&gt; into a depression. Depression isn't a new concept to me. So, why does looking around my house show me that I am depressed? Because it is becoming disorganized and dirty. For the past week, my only desire has been to stay in bed and stare at the ceiling. I cry at the drop of the hat, which in my profession is not a good thing. The patients don't ever seem to have a happy story. I am on anti-depressants, although the better statement would be that I am prescribed anti-depressants. Taking them regularly has not been on my priority list in the past several weeks. I started back on them today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last time depression reared its ugly head, I let it take over and my relationship and job suffered. I cried and didn't clean-two things the ex could not deal with. I was suicidal, but not so deep that I could not stop myself from actually ending things. The relationship was not the cause of the depression, just the victim. I could not deal with life and he could not deal with someone who was not cheerful. I think it was pretty much doomed from the beginning because he was my rebound guy and I can not name much we had in common.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now back to the current relationship with Heath. He calls to wake me up at 9:30am to tell me that his golf game had been cancelled and he was on his way over. Part of me was happy, but then part of me was wanting to pull the covers over my head. I did not fall asleep until 3:00 am and I woke up at 6:00am and spent an hour trying to ease my ear pain, so 9:30 was a wee bit early. I still needed to shower and I am definitely not at the point were he needs to see me in no make-up and worn out clothes. Due to the depression last year, no make-up and jeans/T-shirts reared there head too early. While they meant to say, "I am too tired to care what I look like," the message to the boyfriend was probably more of "You are not worth my dressing up and looking nice." Definitely don't want Heath to get that impression. I get up and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hurriedly&lt;/span&gt; shower, dress, put on make-up, etc. All the while thinking a cup of coffee would be nice and dream of nice breakfast. He knocks on the door, I answer, he comes in and heads for the couch. He promptly closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. I head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. There are no spoons in the drawer, a sign that the dishwasher needs to get to work. I clean out the fridge, run the dishwasher and drink a cup of coffee. Heath wakes up and asks me what I want to do. It is clear he would rather be playing golf, but my ear is not going to be okay with 40-something temperatures. Along with my depression is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;indecisiveness&lt;/span&gt;. Think of it this way-I don't feel like doing anything, so how in the world am I to make a decision about what I want to do! It is decided that we are going to Waffle House for breakfast (at noon), which is fine with me because eating hasn't been in the plan all morning. After that we head to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Home Goods&lt;/span&gt; and Target to look for a storage ottoman, because thanks to all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; accessories, my coffee table looks like it has been taken over by adolescent boys. No luck finding a storage ottoman that I can afford. When we arrive to my house, he makes me watch a golf DVD while he plays Zelda. The golf video is word-for-word the book I am already reading, so when the computer turns off by itself, I gladly stop watching the video. I guess I need to find a way to say-I do want to play golf and not knowing how is not what is stopping me. Not having the right clothes, not being able to hit the ball very far, and the cold temperatures are the roadblocks. I would gladly go to the driving range today, but it is too cold and my ear is throbbing. So he spends the afternoon playing Zelda while I lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling. Probably not the most exciting afternoon, but for a depressed girl it worked. As he left, he invited me to go to his place, sit on the couch, and stare at the ceiling. Okay, so he left out the ceiling part, but I am sure he finds me staring at the ceiling a little odd. I did not go to sit on his couch though, I still had paperwork to do for work for tomorrow, so I stay home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This afternoon made me think about what to say. I am obviously depressed and if Heath hasn't noticed something is wrong, then he needs to figure out how to raise his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;EQ&lt;/span&gt;. When my depression wasn't so obvious, my mother told me not to share the depression piece of my life with Heath. That seems deceitful, since apparently I could relapse at any time (and yes, I realize it is my own fault for not taking my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;). How much do I tell? Does he really need to know that I tried to jump out a window a month after &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;CLB's&lt;/span&gt; death. My first year of med school, where I only left my room to go to class and anatomy lab and lost 25lbs was not a proud moment in my life and something I don't want to share so early in a relationship. What kind of message does that send? How do you work that in? "Oh yeah, of course I want children. I hope you will be a great father because sometimes I get so depressed I don't leave my room and I stop eating." Actually my depression has become better and I catch it before it happens, but how do I convince him of that? So tonight I told him that I restarted my anti-depressants. Hopefully he won't freak out and he will ask questions. I guess we will see....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-3821755682103859079?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/3821755682103859079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/depression-is-not-good-for-relationship.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3821755682103859079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/3821755682103859079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/depression-is-not-good-for-relationship.html' title='Depression is not good for a relationship'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4922174046875018606.post-7810209588380476220</id><published>2009-01-10T21:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-13T11:20:18.857-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='UT'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>Was it the movie or is there a spark there?</title><content type='html'>So, I am not new to blogging, but it has been several years since I have had the desire to write in a blog. A couple of weeks ago I decided that I wanted to start &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;journaling&lt;/span&gt;. Today, while watching a movie (actually the stupid commercials prior to the previews), I thought I should start blogging again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am pretty sure no one would find my life interesting, so for now I am not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;publicizing&lt;/span&gt; that I have a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a great day, although definitely different than I thought it would be a month ago. I knew I would be going to an alumni event, but I thought it would be for ND and not for a school I actually went to. A little difficult to explain, but as you can imagine there is a guy involved. A little over a month ago, I met a guy who goes to the UT alumni events. The odd thing about that though, he didn't go to UT. As far as I can tell, he isn't even a UT fan. The other day he asked me what a Vol was. I had to laugh as I explained. If I was honest, I haven't a clue what his school mascot is. I mean I know the name, but I don't know what &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Hokie&lt;/span&gt; means. Now after reading the explanation-I am pretty sure that I still can't tell you. I could not imagine finding a guy who likes to watch UT sports that wasn't an SEC fan. I figure moving to a land where basketball is a religion and no SEC schools, I would not date guys who could sit through a UT game without squirming. I went out with a guy last basketball season who could not understand why I wanted to spend my birthday watching the UT-Memphis game. Hello!!! It was #2 playing #1 and definitely a big deal in my book. Luckily, I did get to watch it, after staying up all night the night before for call, coming home late, dressing up for dinner (being upset because reservations weren't made), and rushing home just in time for the start of the game. Well, enough about that-let's get to the new guy. So, it was his idea that we go watch the game! In fact a month ago, he wanted our first date to be watching a UT game and he did not even know I was a Vol fan! There was no game that day and we played putt-putt (which by-the-way is an absolutely fabulous first date even if it is 44 degrees). So today we went to the Alumni Association's viewing of the UT game and watched UT beat Georgia (which is wonderful, since I have spent a good part of my life in Georgia).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the game, he wanted to take me to a movie that I had been talking about since it was released. At this point, I feel like I should give him a name and since I don't plan to use real names (to protect the innocent), I should make one up. Well, it is late and I can't come up with a good name. I guess I will call him by male pronouns for this post and come up with a good name in the next few posts. So, we went to see Marley and Me. Great movie-I highly recommend it. Now, I am not sure if it is the movie or the fact I am very enamoured with this guy that I have spent the past several weeks with. During the movie, I imagine what my life would be like if it was with him and then I try to imagine it without it and the scary thing is-life seems like it would be very sad without him. Maybe it is the newness of the relationship. Now I am thinking-He can't know about this blog because I am sure the phrase about imagining my life with him would surely scare him away. It has only been five weeks for goodness sakes! I get butterflies when he walks in the room. The last time I felt that way-1998! The phrase-you realize why &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;every other&lt;/span&gt; relationship failed seems to be clearer. Now, I am not totally certain that every relationship failed because he is the ONE. I still don't know about that, but what I do know is that he is the first guy since &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CLB&lt;/span&gt; to treat me with respect and has self confidence that doesn't make him freak out about my accomplishments. Maybe he is the reason I am in NC. If I didn't meet him for a long term relationship, he definitely has made me realize that I have been dating losers and I definitely deserve better. Now, I am not saying that all the guys I dated were losers-definitely not the case-although there were a few!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, it is late and I need sleep. I am recovering from surgery and in too much pain to think clearly. There is so much to say and yet my ability to organize is impaired by my sleepiness. I am sure I will post more about my new relationship as well as other aspects of my life in the days to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4922174046875018606-7810209588380476220?l=wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/feeds/7810209588380476220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/was-it-movie-or-is-there-spark-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7810209588380476220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4922174046875018606/posts/default/7810209588380476220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wobegonrabbit.blogspot.com/2009/01/was-it-movie-or-is-there-spark-there.html' title='Was it the movie or is there a spark there?'/><author><name>WobegonRabbit</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00597893652339366773</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MkqFfVWYzgU/SWzUDLnkPmI/AAAAAAAAAAM/D8KeDyoLCNo/S220/snapshot.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
