Museum of Surgical Science: cool, gross, kinda freaky.

This post is dedicated to Riki. Riki is the Micky to my Rocky.

He’s been getting my ass in gear to take care of this blog business, which in case you didn’t notice, and I know you did, I’ve been getting some shit done. On Friday, as I was putting on my grey sweat suit to go jog around town, he said “OK kid, what’re we gonna do for the blog this weekend, eh?!” He helped me pick 6 things to do (4 which we did do, including watching the bane of my existence Brewster’s Millions), and then he sent me out to chase some chickens in a circle for a while. Sorry, enough of that.

Sunday we woke up to a miserable spring Chicago day. The weather in Chicago really is a joy, I could just snuggle it for hours. It was pouring buckets, and when we walked outside I was nearly knocked over by the wind. At one point I just stood and yelled and leaned into the wind, because that was all that there was to be done.

We finally made it (by bus) to the Museum of Surgical Science. The Museum is so awesome - It’s an old mansion on Lake Shore Drive at North Avenue. The second you walk in you already feel creeped out, but in that cool way, like walking through a cemetery. The building itself is amazing - everything about it feels full of history. It has a huge marble staircase, long empty rooms and corridors.. It’s the kind of place that if I was ever locked inside overnight (it’s possible, it happens in every Nancy Drew novel, right?) I would just lay in the corner and weep, and then slowly go insane. All before morning.

Here are some pictures to help you get an idea of the place. But really, you should go. (Disclosure: The museum has paid me $5,000,000 in unmarked bills to review it on my blog)

Let me tell you about this photo. This is an amputation set, circa 1700-1800. How absolutely wonderful.

There are these really beautiful paintings all throughout the museum, even if the subject matter is hard to stomach. This guy was nice enough to show us the Ye Olde Time Amputation set in action.

This woman is doing a little better. Actually, maybe she’s just dead. Note to self: Do not have a kid, ever.

This guy comes alive at midnight and murders you if you’re around.

Here is where I started to get nauseous.

This was sad - it’s an iron lung used to treat kids with polio in the 40s and 50s.

These are Trephines, circa 1800-1900. The card says “Used to drill holes in patient’s skulls.” Wow. Here is where I threw up a little bit.

And here’s this guy, he was treated with a trephine. Apparently this does not kill you. I won’t argue this.

This one is for all my male readers. All one of you.

And, another skull with a hole. This makes me appreciate a fully intact skull.

I spared you some of the grossest parts of the exhibit, like the glass case full of kidney stones. wtf!

Afterwards, we were sooo hungry as you can imagine, so we hopped back on the bus and rode up to Ras Dashen for Ethiopian food. I’ve never been there before, and it was really, really delicious. A perfect warm, spicy meal for a cold and rainy Sunday. I had a great Ethiopian beer with mine, and in the process, I checked number 40 off the list. Well, we didn’t bike to the restaurant, but we did ride the bus for 2 years to get there, and 2 years home, so I’m counting it.

In conclusion: I suggest you go to the museum, get grossed out, go get Ethiopian food, and then head home for a nap. It makes for a good day.

2 comments | May 13th, 2008

Brewsters can’t keep me down

This weekend, a full month after it showed up in our mailbox, I did the impossible… I finished Brewster’s Millions.

I could give you a review, tell you my deepest thoughts, explain how it changed me forever, but it didn’t so I won’t. I will say, if you are dying to watch an 80s comedy one day in the near future, leave this one for further down the list. Maybe even last, or never, on the list. Watch The Jerk or something of this quality first. I know The Jerk was released in 1979, but what’s a year?

In place of my review, watch this instead. Then, I’ll tell you again, go rent The Jerk.

OK, I think I figured it out. It’s John Candy. I don’t like John Candy. I know it isn’t right to speak ill of those who are no longer with us, but I just want to punch him in the arm so hard.

There is a lesson in here somewhere… what I thought would be my easiest problem became the most challenging. I will think about this more after I go have a snack.

2 comments | May 12th, 2008

Problem 92, we hardly new ye.

You know what’s cool? When you’re going about your Saturday, minding your business, and all of a sudden your friends call to say “Hi, we have two tickets to the Cubs game, do you want to go? Oh, also, they’re skybox tickets, hope thats ok.”

Mmmm, yeah, I guess that’s ok.

Henry and Anne invited Riki and I to the game Saturday, and it was my first, and probably only, skybox experience of my life. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to go to a game and sit in the stands like a common folk ever again after being so rich for an afternoon. So. Rich.

Did you know you get free food in a skybox? Free beer (New Castle! wtf!), Free veggie plate that had asparagus on it, Free fruit plate with mother effing star fruit and pineapple, Free nuts and chips and pretzels, and on and on. There is also a TV in the room in case sitting on the seats and watching the real game just isn’t cutting it. Plus, you sit in your own little section that separates you from the jerks in other sections.

Mmm, yes, this is much better. Now bring me some champagne!

Later, after we gorged ourselves on food and beer, after we thought “Things just can’t get better” well, they did. The dessert cart girl showed up in all her glory…

You were allowed to pick anything from this cart. ANE-EE-THING. And, you can’t see, but on the top of the cart there were a bunch of dessert liquors that she poured for us into shot glasses. Oh, they were chocolate shot glasses. You could eat the shot glass is what I’m saying. This was basically every childhood dream I’ve ever had come true. Without the liquor part. And a pony was missing, if there was a pony I would have just laid in the corner and passed out.

Anne got a sundae and a little cubs hat…

Riki got snickers cheesecake.. look! that little thing next to it is the choc shot.

I’m not sure what Henry got, but it has ice cream on it…

Now, you might be wondering, why am i posting about this? Well, you probably forgot that in the Random Category, number 92 is “Go to a cubs game and sit in the skybox”. Yeah, you forgot, right! Problem solved, one off the list for me, suckers.

Wait til you see all the other stuff I did this weekend.. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow. Spoiler alert: I survived Brewster’s Millions!

4 comments | May 11th, 2008

Flying Piggies.

Ok, so I ran the mofo Flying Pig half marathon, and it was actually really fun.

I knew I would be glad I did it once it was over, it was the whole leading up to it part I wasn’t excited about.

I’ve done this kind of stuff before, but in the past I actually trained and was ready. Real training, like waking up at 6am to run 18 miles. But that was 2004 me. I’m no 2004 me anymore.

Following is the training plan for 2008 me:

Monday: Walk down stairs 4 times. Walk up stairs 4 times. Walk to the kitchen 30 times. Lean over the bed and look for the remote. Pull self up from leaning.

Tuesday: Most of Monday + Ride bike to work, press elevator button 6 times with right finger, repeat 3 times with left.

Wednesday: Some of Monday and Tuesday with a sprinkle of practicing dance moves.

Thursday: 1 push up. Punch Riki in the arm x 2, followed by 3 reps of walking to the liquor store.

Friday: Repeat Monday, plus hold curling iron up for 30 seconds on right side, repeat on left side. Continue until arms get shaky and weak.

And weekends off, of course. But you knew that.

I’ve been on this grueling plan for 3 months, until two weeks ago when I started getting annoying emails every 2 hours from the race organizers reminding me what I had agreed to. EF! So I started cramming for the final and running between 3-6 miles every other day or so. But I wasn’t fooling myself, I knew this shit was gonna be hard and I was not really ready. 3 miles plus 10 more was what I had ahead of me.

With all this in mind, I drove to Cincinnati with Anne and Michelle. Then, as humiliating as this is to admit, we went to Chili’s. But not just went, we google text messaged to find one, and then drove 40 min out of the way to get there. This was the pre-race plan. I also might have had a margarita, it’s all fuzzy now…

But look, here’s Paula Radcliff, super marathon woman who had a kid like a week before winning the NYC marathon. I saw an interview with her once and she said before every race she eats her weight in french fries and has a margarita. Yeah, she said that. See? I’m in good company.

proof!

Anyway, the race went pretty well. I got a serious side stitch at like mile 9, and walked it off for probably a half mile or so.

I finished in 2:26, which I’m happy with… I really thought it would go much worse. Much, much worse.

Also, sorry for the poor quality of these images… I had the camera on some funky setting, plus I was running and all sweaty and uncomfortable. I was in no frame of mind to fix it.

here we are at the start, lined up like a bunch of jerks.

The run was actually really really pretty… we crossed a bunch of bridges.

Michelle and I post race, pre-pigging out. We are Americans first, race finishers second.

4 comments | May 6th, 2008

Exercising: I don’t like it one bit.

Arrrghh! I have to run the stupid Flying Pig Half Marathon this weekend.

And really, the only reason I am doing it is because I said I would on this blog. Which is exactly why I did this blog in the first place, to follow through on commitments. But I don’t not want to follow through for 13 miles, I don’t!

Arrrrgh!

It will be fun though, I’m looking forward to the road trip with Michelle and Anne, and I’m really looking forward to all the food I can eat because when you just get through running a bunch you can eat anything, right?

ohhh.. I want french fries.. and banana walnut pancakes…

8 comments | May 1st, 2008

All mushed out

I am so lucky.

I got my wisdom teeth yanked out of my head a few days ago, and it was so painless and easy. I’ve heard so many horror stories about people being awake through the whole thing, or actually feeling it, or having to go to multiple dentists, etc etc, but my story, it was something like this:

7:30 am: Wake up and think about having coffee, but wind up feeling mad and confused at the world after remembering that the dentist said “No food or drinks 6 hrs before surgery”

9 am: Get picked up by Riki and drive to the dentist. Think about how it’s fun to not be at work when I should be. My coworkers are suckers.

9:30 am: Fork over tons of cash so some dude can pull teeth out of my head and then drive his BMW with a solid gold steering wheel home.

9:45 am: Get hooked up to some machine that beeps along with my heart. Notice how if I breath really slow I can get down to 62 bpm, and conversely, when I think about being put under and oh my god, what if I just die right then and there I go up to 95 bpm. Feel awkward and wonder if the nurse notices and is judging me. It’s ok, she has 90s hair.

9:55 am: Dentist comes in and puts a thing on my face and tells me to take deep breaths. Dentist then proceeds to make “flying high” and “sleep soundly” jokes. Even in a drugged up state I am conscious enough to avoid eye contact and pretend like I didn’t hear him. Then he asks if I want to keep the teeth. I hear myself from three rooms away say, “That’s gross, no!” and then drift off….

10 something am: Barely remember anything, except now Riki is in the room and the nurse is giving me a prescription for Vicodin and telling me how I probably won’t need it, and I could sell it if I don’t use it. Really. She said to sell it. I’m not though.

Rest of the day: Take a nap, watch TV, go buy Marc Jacobs sunglasses (a birthday present from my dad!) Have drinks with friends later. And eat tons of mushy food. Soup, hummus, black beans, smoothies. Yuck. No more mushy food for me, ever.

And that was it. I didn’t even get puffy cheeks or anything, but does sort of feel weird having teeth missing. I’ll miss those guys.

3 comments | April 27th, 2008

But really, what does cause it?

To the person who googled this, and found my blog:

I hope you found your answer. I spent years wondering about this and never knowing. When I finally did find out, life as I knew it was changed.

1 comment | April 24th, 2008

My brother, he rules.

This is Zak, my little bro.

You met Jacob, my youngest brother here. Zak is the middle child. Allow me to speak candidly to all you middle children out there, on behalf of all of us first-born: you guys have it the hardest. You really do. Although us oldest kids might have perfection issues, and had to babysit the rest of you from the day you were born and all that, you middle kids have it rough. By the time you were walking and talking and graduating kindergarten, it was old news to the P’s.

Just sayin’ middle kids, your pain and suffering does not go unnoticed.

Anyway, Zak lives out in the suburbs, and I seriously hardly ever see him, ever. I added this to my list of problems, which kind of makes me feel like a bad sister, visiting him is something I should do anyway, but adding it to the list made it happen sooner than it might have otherwise. You know how these things go; I’ll come next week, oh next week isn’t good now, what about the 5th? ok, well I’ll call you…

Zak picked me up from the train station with his friend Joe. And if you can’t tell that Joe listens to the String Cheese Incident, then you aren’t paying attention:

Grandma? Is that you?

JK, Joe’s a total sweetheart, I love that kid.

After heading back to Z’s all grownsed up apartment, we went to On the Border, a little mexican chain that I used to work at back in my early 00’s glory days. Actually, I made serious cash as a cocktail waitress there. Perhaps I should revisit that career.

We drank delicious margaritas and had guacamole and fajitas til I felt sick.

Based on the look on his face, Z feels sick too. That’s Jill to his left, his girlfriend.

Then, back to his place for wii games and more drinks. It was a work night too. I felt great the next day, really great.

this photo, it wasn’t staged. I was not making him pose here, not one bit.

Then we had a good laugh over the fact that this was his halloween costume last year. He was a… dude with.. a hat.. on.

I have the same butt-chin. Thanks Parents.

Yes! I only have 3,000,000 more problems to go.

4 comments | April 23rd, 2008

Problem #1? Killing me.

How can I expect to achieve goals this year such as volunteering, starting a garden, or.. I dunno, LEARNING SPANISH (well, starting to learn Spanish, not be fluent or anything), if I can’t even make it through Brewsters Millions?

We’ve started it 3 times, and each time Riki and I have both fallen asleep at the same part, about a third of the way through, you know, the part where John Candy makes his 80th terrible joke. No disrespect to John C., may he rest in peace and all that. I know it’s a family film, he had to do what he had to do.

This weekend Brewster, you’re mine! If there is one thing I do, it’s finishing something that I set out to do, or publicly declared on a blog that I would do.

That’s not entirely true. But I won’t give up, I’ll fight my way through it!

7 comments | April 16th, 2008

Let’s be honest. We had a pizza party so I could kill the masthead 4.

Riki and I hosted a vegan / dairy pizza party-party to knock problem #46 off the list this past Saturday. I think I still have half a pound of dough sitting in my stomach, which is gross. I had it for breakfast yesterday, and as a snack tonight, so maybe this is part of the problem.

It was a success if I do say so myself, and I do. A bunch of friends came over with a bunch of booze, and we provided dough and toppings as faaaaar as the eye can seeeeeee…

writing this post and looking at these photos is seriously making me nauseous. I’m never eating pizza again.

chopped up toppings in their own little bowls. we so fancy.

Here we learn how vegan cheese doesn’t melt. Do you know what it’s like to be failed by your very own faux cheese substitute at a party? It feels awful. Humilitating, really.

This ain’t pretty, but damn it was good.

This is a meat and cheese pizza. Or, the cookie sheet of death and despair, as it’s known in some parts.

Amy also made me a cake! This would be #4 in the list of baked treats I received for my birthday… It was so so good, and so pretty. Pink icing, wtf!

Ok, that’s all I have in me. I can’t look at any more food pictures, arrrghhh. More tomorrow! I’m getting dangerously close to the 80s in the problems list. Which is dangerously far away from 0.

4 comments | April 14th, 2008