Squished (Almost)

Well, after dissecting all day, I'm not sure that I have succeeded in coming up with something interesting to tell you. I will, however, tell you the story of how I got run over by a truck. 

Setting the scene:

When I lived in Cincinnati, I would use my bicycle to get around at school. At this time, I had to go between the medical school campus and the main campus, and the fastest way to do this was by bike. It was also during this time, that the university was in the midst of some major construction projects. 

The incident:

It was a Friday afternoon and I along with many other people were headed home for the day. I was in the far right lane, stopped at a red light. My plan was to continue straight through the intersection when the light turned green.  In the lane next to me was a cement pump truck. 

At the time, I was operating under the assumption that the truck was also planning on going straight as he did not have his turn signal on and he was not in the right-hand turn lane. When the light turned green, I proceeded to go straight. That is, until I met with the business end of the truck. He, in fact, was not going straight, but turning right - Right Into Me. I saw the whole thing happen in slow motion. I tried to swerve, but it was too late. My bike slid out from under me and I hit the pavement under the truck. Luckily, the driver realized that he hit something and began to break because I actually got (slightly) pinched under the back wheels of the truck. I still have the tire tread mark on my jacket to prove it. If he hadn't have stopped, I would have been squished. But I wasn't. In fact, as soon as the truck stopped and I realized that I wasn't dead, I hopped up and started yelling at the driver trying to explain to the driver that he didn't have his turn signal on and that he should be more vigilant about cyclists especially around the university. Several people (including two trauma nurses and the foreman of the truck driver's construction site) stopped to see if I was alright and call the police. The police came and basically told me that I needed to be more careful (thank you very much Cincinnati Police Department). Long story short, I had some bruises, a gash on my back, and a ripped pair of pants (pants that I still have in my closet because I like them and one day I will mend them). While I believe that the truck driver was at fault, I did learn a good lesson - cars/trucks always trump bikes. It doesn't matter if you have the right of way. They are bigger. 

Well, that was my attempt at an interesting story. I'll try to do better tomorrow.

Separated At Birth?

Is it just me, or does Harper look a lot like Cindy Lou Who?

I have a lot of dissecting to do today (I told you my job was cool). While I work on it, I'll try to think of something interesting to tell you. Check back later to see if I was successful. 

Fifty Cent Fudge

I am a Yankee. Since I moved to Nashville, I have experienced lots of new Southern traditions. For instance, last night I attended my first Cookie Swap. Now, they probably have Cookie Swaps up North, but I've never heard of one. The concept is simple. Basically a bunch of people (usually women) bake a bunch of cookies and get together to sample and share the cookies that they have made. Sounds simple, right? Well, my first Cookie Swap experience was not quite that simple. 

First of all, I decided to make fudge. All of the other women participating in the Swap are very experienced and accomplished chefs (even the ones who profess otherwise). There was no way that I was even going to try to compete with their cookies - so instead, I made fudge. Now, I have never made fudge before. But my mom makes killer fudge. In fact, it's so good that everyone calls it Million Dollar Fudge. It's my great-grandma's recipe and it is perfection. When we visited my parents for Thanksgiving, I asked my mom if we could make a batch as a trial run for the Cookie Swap. She agreed, and we made fudge. It was easy. It was delicious. As my mom will tell you, "This is a no-fail recipe!" We ate a few pieces that night and then packed the rest up to send home with me. 

My mom agreed to make fudge with me even after cooking and cleaning up  a whole Thanksgiving dinner. She's a good mom. 

So on Monday night, when I planned to make my batch of fudge, I felt nothing but confidence. I had all of the ingredients and the recipe right in front of me. What could be easier than this? In fact, I got a little fancy and made two batches - one with nuts and one without (or as I like to say, a male batch and a female batch). I prepared the fudge and stuck it in the refrigerator to harden. While I didn't taste test the final product that night, I licked the bowl so I knew it was good. 

Fast forward to last night.... The fudge has been sitting in my refrigerator for 72 hours waiting to be cut into small pieces and put into a festive container. When I got home from work, I took the fudge out of the refrigerator and proceeded to attempted to cut it into pieces. However, after 72 hours of sitting in my refrigerator, the fudge, my mom's NO-FAIL fudge, had not hardened. It was a gooey mess - a delicious gooey mess, but still a mess. 

I started to get hot all over and my armpits started to sweat. There was no way that I could take this fudge to the Swap. Instantly, several potential scenarios came to mind.

1. I could stick the fudge in the freezer and hope that it would harden in time.

2. I could make up an excuse not to go. 

3. I could stop by the bakery on the way there and pick up something that was actually edible. 

What I finally ended up doing was packing up the fudge that my mom and I had made the week before. I had just enough pieces left. 

The cookie swap was a success. Our gracious host's home was spectacularly decorated. The confections were divine. No one knew of the drama that had occurred a mere 90 minutes earlier. While I still have my 50¢ fudge in the freezer, I think my mom's Million Dollar Fudge was a hit. 

Funny Picture of the Day

Now, don't get me wrong. Divorce is not funny and neither is infidelity. However, this picture does go to show that anything (and everything) can be done with Style. 

Reads:

Hi Steven, 

Do I have your attention now?

I know all about her, you dirty, sneaky,

immoral, unfaithful, poorly-endowed slimeball. 

Everything's caught on tape. 

Your (soon to be ex-) Wife, 

Emily

p.s. I paid for this billboard from OUR joint bank account. 

This picture is from grittycitygirl's flicker page. According to her, the billboard was located on 7th Avenue near Times Square. And by the way, although the names are the same, my friends, Emily and Steve, had nothing to do with this!

The Admiral

My husband loves to work on cars. His motto is "Why fix it, when you can upgrade it?" A good illustration of this comes by way of a modification that he made to my old SUV (although in this case, the part that he modified wasn't broken). For our 1 month wedding anniversary, Rob decided that he was going to install boat horns in my car (I know, very romantic). 

Picture two of these babies mounted under the hood! 

And what's even cooler is that he mounted a carbon fiber toggle switch that activated the horns right where the red arrow is pointing in the picture below. 

We affectionately called our new horn The Admiral. It was awesome, and it was loud (much louder than an air horn). I'm pretty sure that I never used The Admiral in an actual driving situation (I'm just not that kind of driver), but it made me happy just knowing that it was there! Unfortunately, The Admiral is no longer with us. I can only imagine what the people at the dealership thought when we traded it in...

I Love Christmas!

In the last few days, I've started indulging in some of my favorite things about the holiday season. 

1. Charlie Brown's Christmas album is currently looping on my ipod. 

2. I have started my Christmas diet which entails consuming of large amounts of Christmas Trees and egg nog. 

These things are perfectly designed. 

You just can't beat the crushed sprinkles and filmy aftertaste. 

Egg nog is the nectar of the gods. If I could rig up an intravenous drip of the stuff, I would. But then again, I probably wouldn't be able to taste it if I did that, so nevermind. 

3. The Christmas TV specials - need I say more? Charlie Brown, Rudolph, The Grinch, etc. Harper and I will watch them all (Yes, I am beginning the indoctrination early). 

What are some of your favorite things about Christmas?

Finger Foods - Take 1

Since Harper arrived on the scene, I have noticed just how many little things I take for granted - like the ability to eat solid foods for instance. We are just staring to introduce Harper to finger foods. Last night, I gave her some Puffs to try. I thought that they were Sweet Potato flavor, but judging by her reaction, I guess they were Rat Poison flavor instead.