Banana stand

A while ago I went to the Habitat for Humanity ReStore in Champaign with my friend Amy (the only person under 25 I know that has a similar interest in antiques and ephemera).

For years I have been pained by the way bananas get bruised and brown from the way they sit on the kitchen counter. I like to eat them when they are super ripe, because I think they are sweeter! However, the price I pay is gross bruised spots. The solution - a [there's always money in the] banana stand!

I bought what seemed to be a homemade banana stand. The pencil markings were visible along the edges, and the base might have been made of baseboard. It was $1. I decided to paint it!

My other friend Brittany is a thrift/craft genius. She has a wonderful collection of wooden chairs that she has painted a variety of bright colors. It really is brilliant. Her projects often include variations on a theme, so, in this case the theme is "wooden chair that was about to be thrown away" and the variation involves the model of chair and color.

I'm not quite that thrify (yet!) and I didn't want to buy a chair, so I thought I'd try my hand at painting this homely little banana stand.

GREEN!

Hosta green, to be precise. After a coat of primer, then about 3 coats of green, it was perfect. My dad kindly polished the hook and provided felt squares for the bottom. I forgot to take a "before" photo, but here is the "after" photo!

Tuesday morning happenings

First, I woke up with a horrible headache, and stayed in bed an extra half hour. It's going to be a bad day.

Or not!

Because then I hopped in my car to pick up my dry cleaning and get my usual latte. On the way through the neighborhood, I passed my old summer job boss' house where he and another guy were loading up the truck with plants, buckets, hoses, shovels, the wheelbarrow - as I had done for so many mornings a few years ago (nostalgia strikes again!). When I arrived at Garber's Cleaners, the woman who got my suit and dress gushed compliments about how pretty that little black dress was. Feel good moment #2, and I had only been out of my house for about 2 minutes! Next, when I went into Espresso Royale Cafe, the girl working saw me and my "Think Green" ceramic mug with the blue lid and said, "Are you having your usual?" YES. My usual french vanilla (hazelnut AND vanilla flavor, but easy on the flavorings) skim double shot latte. This is the first day that they offered to make me my drink before I ordered it. This happened while I was at my last rotation too - and I can't explain it but it makes me happy. I think that having a "usual" order at a coffee shop symbolizes stability, morning routines, caffeine addiction...
Finally, on the way home, I saw a girl on a bicycle on her way to school join up with a girl who was walking. She slowed down, and the walking girl turned into a jogging girl. There they went, happily to school, where they would learn all about how 150 years ago today, the War Between the States began with shots at Fort Sumter.

I will be sure to pay attention to these small things that bring joy today.

Trees and nostalgia

I spent a couple hours sitting outside on the deck at Neal's parents' house this weekend. Next door, an Irishman with a great brogue was climbing a tall tree (the tallest one in the cul-de-sac, I'd say) with his chain saw dangling from his waist. Periodically I heard a CRACK and a THUMP as a large branch was detached from the source and came crashing down to the ground.



It reminded me of that Chip and Dale cartoon, where Donald Duck climbs the giant pine with spikes around his ankles and a strap around the tree to help him up. Since I realize that was a horrible description (and I would bet that most of you did not grow up watching old Donald Duck cartoons) I found it on youtube, and in the process of searching I found many other cartoons that I have not thought about for the past 15 years or so. Recently on NPR I heard a sociology professor who studies memory at the University of Virginia say that we need to have distance from the past in order to feel nostalgic. I'd say 15 years fulfills the criteria for feeling nostalgic, and the effect was quite gratifying. All in all, quite a lovely day in April.

Count, pour, lick, and stick

I have been doing just as the title suggests (minus the licking, thanks to the advent of adhesive labeling) during this rotation - the final roadblock before being able to hang up a fancy schmancy diploma in my [imaginary] office.

This is not my favorite thing. It is fun for about 2 hours max. Then I have to call upon my other senses to keep going. One sense that has been coming through for me is my olfactory sense. There are many smells associated with retail pharmacy, and I'd like to share some of them.

Benicar (olmesartan) smells like vanilla, or perhaps sort of like a cream cheese frosting. Sometimes, an initial whiff even smells like buttery popcorn for a split second. I have heard others describe the smell as "stinky socks." Well, I have had the pleasure of smelling Neal's socks after a few hours in dress shoes, and they unfortunately do not smell like vanilla. I wish...

Cephalexin, a common antibiotic, is always embarrassing to count (or, it is a relief and a blessing to count, depending on the situation). It smells like rotten eggs. It is embarrassing when other people walking by don't immediately realize you are counting cephalexin, so their olfactory sense tells them you farted. It is a relief when - well, I think you can figure out when the counting of cephalexin could be a blessing in disguise.

Metformin, a diabetic's early friend, is also a foul smelling one. Neal recently sent me an advertisement for raspberry-scented metformin. Those silly drug companies...

This reminds me of all the liquid formulations, which often smell fruity. I can't think of anything interesting at the moment. Hmm.

Earlier this week I discovered a new smell, and, due to my assumption that I would remember it, I have forgotten it. I think it may have been Avodart (dutasteride), for treating enlarged prostates. I think it smelled like cheesecake. I'll have to get back to you on that one.

Next time, I can tell you about textures of various medications. Oh boy.

Kids these days...

Monical’s Pizza is one of my favorite pizza places. It features a super thing crust pizza with lots of seasonings on top. I don’t know why I like it so much, perhaps now it is nothing more than pure nostalgia (most celebratory occasions while growing up took place here) but I still love it all the same.

Tiffany, recently returned from a year abroad in New Zealand, also appreciates this nostalgic pizza. I mean, it tastes good too, don’t get me wrong! But we all crave it when we come home.

We were sitting at a booth next to a large group of girls wearing Illini shirts. They looked to be around 8 years old, maybe younger, [hopefully older], celebrating some group achievement just as we had done when we were younger. However, there was a major, glaring difference between this group of girls and myself when I was younger. They had iPhones.
Therefore, there is a glaring difference between these girls and my 23-year old self, as well as my 12-year old self (I did not live in a town with Monical’s when I was 8). I still do not own an iPhone, and when I was 8 or 12, I spent my time at Monical’s looking at all the stuff on the walls and on a shelf near the ceiling, playing “I SPY something …” Or I spent my time with crayon in hand, solving riddles and puzzles on the placemats.

Tiffany and I noticed there were no crayons in sight. We also noticed that there was annoying pop music blasting out of one of their phones until a mom walked over and told them to turn it off while they ate. Shortly after this, it became eerily quiet as all of them were engrossed in their games, texting, Justin Bieber… One girl even had some other sort of electronic device which required a stylus, with which she was ferociously tapping away.

It was eerie, quite honestly. I felt sorry for them, too. Their reality extends a great distance through their devices, yet this reality could not even survive crossing the table at which they sat.

I am frightened for my future children.

Wash your hands!

I’d like to begin a series of posts giving examples of harsh realities which make it essential that we all wash our hands as often as possible.

Just now, as I was briskly walking over to secure a comfy chair at the Southwest gate where I am waiting (delayed, to be more specific), I had to go around a longer way because a man was sitting on the floor in the aisle with his toddler son. How cute. As I went around and sat down a couple of chairs away from where they were, I began to worry when I saw him take out a diaper. My worry turned to disgust as he laid the kid down and started taking off his dirty diaper. No, he didn't use baby wipes or hand sanitizer.

Mind you, I estimate that the nearest bathroom is 40 feet away. It is just on the other end of this row of chairs.

Therefore, wash your hands as often as you can (there might be flecks of poo on or around your chair)!

Michelle flies; a memoir - Part IV: The Golden Years

I realize I am much too young to be coining things "The Golden Years," but this period of time between landing in Milwaukee and my current delays requires this sort of happy name. The only bad thing that happened is I had some sort of sinus pressure issue on the way to San Antonio (I thought I was having a stroke) which I learned could be alleviated by prophylaxing with Sudafed. Basically, from wikipedia, I learned that the likely series of events that led up to this sort of pain (sudden watering of eyes and nares, the feeling of knives cutting my face down the center and into my brain, hypersensitive skin that was painful to touch, headache lasting for the next 12 hours) stemmed from sinus congestion. Boyle's law states that in a constant temperature, the volume of gas is inversely proportional to the pressure on it. Therefore, the air in the sinuses will expand during the ascent, and contract during the descent.

Quoting from Wikipedia's entry on Aerosinusitis, " Normally, the sinuses drain into the nasal cavity through small ostia, which permit mucocilliary clearance and ventilation that equilibrates pressure. However, when the opening is obstructed due to inflammation, polyps, mucosal thickening, anatomical abnormalities, or other lesions, pressure equilibration is impossible. Squeeze is produced on descent when trapped air in the sinuses contracts and produces negative pressure. The pressure differentials are directed to the center of the sinuses producing mucosal edema, transudation, and mucosal-or submucosal-hematoma, leading to further occlusion of the sinus ostium. The sinus will fill with fluid or blood unless the pressure differential is neutralized."

This is a super fancy way of saying "Clear your sinuses before you fly so you don't feel like you just gave childbirth through your nose."

Back to the golden years. Other than this painful event (which happened twice), I don't really recall any serious delays or weather problems. In fact, this might be the first major delay/rescheduling I have had to deal with. And I don’t actually mind too much because I will still arrive in plenty of time to not be stressed about my interview tomorrow, and I have 2 magazines, a new book, computer board games, and some movies to keep me occupied. This is lucky because I normally don’t think to bring these sorts of things. Since this string of bad experiences, I have flown to several destinations within the U.S., and also to London. I hope the hazing is over.

I feel this series of posts are sort of pointless unless I make a list of things I have learned.

1. I can control a lot of things, but I cannot control the weather.
2. Winter in Chicago ends sometime in May.
3. O’Hare should be avoided like the plague.
4. Checking bags should be avoided too, if possible.
a. I have since learned how to be quite efficient at packing lightly, and I think I have earned my spot in the “Expert Traveler” security line.
5. Clear nasal passages are vital for a successful flight. I learned that 12 hour Sudafed trumps those tiny 30 mg red pills. Why do they even make those?
6. Always bring extra things to do in case of being stranded.

Happy travels!