Disengaged?

No, I am not talking about dating and marriage (for once!). I am referring to Israel's disengagement from the Gaza Strip. I'm not even sure I phrased that correctly. I support giving up this piece of land for what we hope is the "greater good," but when my brother sends me an article about a young family we know in Israel, where the father is being held by the military in solitary confinement for what seems to be no other reason than that he is a "Settler," and visibly so, I no longer know what to think. All I know is that peace and security surrounding Israel means nothing unless there is internal peace amongst Israelis and all Jews.

Twenty-Two Days and Counting...

The Big 3-0 is only 3 weeks away. How much (many) is 30? It's 2 less than a medium-size box of crayolas. It's bigger than my waist size. It's a few dollars less than what I spend on a haircut (wuhoo!), but also a few dollars less that what I just spent on Bliss body scrub (doh!) Its significance in the Jewish religion is the length of the mourning period and the age at which men are sent to battle. It is 1 year less than my mother was when she had had all her 5 children (ok, the last 2 were twins). It is my oldest nephew's age multiplied by 6. It is 10 years older than I thought I would be when I got married back when I was 1/3 of it (read it a few times; you'll get it). It's the new 20! Hah!

Things I Think About During Our Weekly Department Meetings

1. How was I so late today? What exactly did my cleaning lady do to my alarm clock that I ended up sleeping right through it?

2. Ah, chairs. I still can't believe that chairs are a relatively new invention, and that people used to squat rather than sit!

3. That date I had last night, oy! My old friend that set me up doesn't know me at all! I wonder if any of my old friends do...

4. I love her shirt! I wonder where she got it? Why don't I dress up more for work?

5. So after work- do I do the step class or use the elliptical? hmmmm....

At the Request of an Anonymous Blogger

On my last posting, I got a comment from an anonymous blogger (who I may or may not know-d'oh!) suggesting that I post what I'm looking for in a mate. I must admit, I am kind of flattered that enquiring blogger minds want to know. So here goes.

I am looking for:

1. A man (actually, I prefer guys or boys to men, but not in the pedophile sense)
2. A Jewish man- does not have to be as observant as me, but I would like to have a Kosher home and keep Shabbat
3.Someone to keep me on my toes- intellectually, if that makes sense
4. Someone who can make me laugh
5. A best friend

Note: if the word "mate" made you sweat or cringe, you are not for me. I am done with guys who don't know what they want!
Another note: sorry if I sound so demanding. I'm just tired I guess.

So This is What It's Like

You know you've hit rock bottom when your mother not only wants to send you to a matchmaker, but proceeds to look on your behalf at an online matchmaking service! (Granted, I have a few friends whose mothers have emailed them jdate profiles of eligible members of the opposite sex, so I hope they don't take offense!) I'm all for online dating, but I think I would sooner go to a sperm bank than have my mate chosen for me by a complete stranger.

Thesis!

I have completed the coursework for my Masters of Public Health. All I have to do is write my Masters' Essay- a short thesis involving a clinical research project. I will then officially be MD, MPH. I already have a supervisor and a dataset. What I am missing is a kick in the arse! I can't help feeling like it's the summer, and that I should be relaxing when I'm not at my job, let alone taking a long vacation at the beach. Should I be rushing to get it done to graduate in October? Or is it OK to take my time and graduate in February? And does anyone (including me) care?

...and then a turn for the better

Yesterday was a really good day. I didn't have to wish I were a plain red M&M- I was one! The feeling has lasted until today (must be the candy shell).

...and it just gets better

Today I wish I were a chocolate-covered espresso bean. Dark chocolate, of course.