-->

August 11, 2011

The Poor Medical Student

So I know that in 10 years I'll have more money than I'll know what to do with, but right now things are tight.  It's not a big deal- I'm sacrificing on some things so I can have other things (like a 2 bedroom apartment, which is more than I need, but just what I want).  Here are some of the humorous and/or crazy ways I save money these days:

  • Costco: can it get much better than a 24 pack of toilet paper for like $8??  Mostly I get paper towels.  Between Bandaid and Patrick I go through a LOT.
  • Doing my own hair: I used to spend $150 every other month for a cut and color.  Now I get the box from CVS for $10 (and then use coupons to cut it down to about $2).  I get an actual haircut every 2 years now, and in between I thin it out with a razor.  Yep, a razor.
  • Using Ebates.  By the way, if you decide to sign up for it, please refer me- we'll both benefit.  This website gives you cash back when you buy online..anywhere from 1% to 15%.  Examples: Modcloth (3.5%), Nordstrom (5%), Barnes&Noble (6%) and a whole bunch of other sites.  I've earned $85 to date just buying online!!
  • Cash back credit cards: my Chase Freedom card gets me 5% back on gas right now (commuting from SC to GA for 6 weeks earned me a bunch of cash) and 1% on every other purchase.  I got my first credit card when I was 18, and have never paid interest.  I've probably earned over $1000 in cash rebates since then.
  • Powdered milk.  It lasts FOREVER.
  • Keeping bread in the fridge.  People either hate this or love this.  I am indifferent but broke, so it stays in the fridge.
  • Couponing.  Ok, I'm not very good, but I'm all about saving a dollar here and there. 
  • Light bulbs: every light that I use has one of those super-long-lasting twisty bulbs.  Just don't get the daylight ones for the bathroom: you'll either die from the brilliant burst of eye pain just after waking up or seeing every single pore on your face.
  • Using contacts way too long.  So this one is bad, I know.  I've had a corneal ulcer from wearing them at night so I'm well aware of the dangers.  But a 6 month supply is about $300.  So by wearing each pair twice as long, it's now $300 for the year.  Plus this year I cheated the system and got an extra 6 months without going to the ophthalmologist, saving me a $200 appointment (my insurance doesn't cover it).
  • Bandaid toys: ok so sometimes I splurge on him.  Ok well, a lot.  But I also give him things like old socks and toilet paper roll cardboard thingies and it keeps him busy for HOURS.  And it's FREE!  I also cut up an old pair of jeans and made a chew toy out of them.
  • Reusing plastic grocery bags.  For EVERYTHING.  And when my apartment complex ran out of doggie bags and briefly switched to small trash can liners instead, I stocked up on those too (I know, I'm terrible).
  • Taking free food.  Med school and apartment living provide lots of opportunities.  I like to stock up on sealed items.
  • Washing water bottles and reusing them.
  • Coke points.  Yep, those stupid codes on code bottle lids.  I enter every single one.  And I get coupons for more free coke.  Hooray!
  • Not going to the doctor.  It is so freaking expensive!  So unless I absolutely have to go, I don't.  I figure when I get better insurance in 2 years I'll start going again.  I feel fine at least....
  • Picking up pennies: yes, if I'm not in a hurry I'll stop for a penny.  I'll ALWAYS stop for a dime, though.  Two years ago I found a $20 bill in a parking lot at school and went to security asking what to do with it (yes, I did).  He told me to go donate it.  (I donated it to Amanda's school fund.)
  • Over-utilizing the shopping cart feature on websites: so I love online shopping.  But it's usually stuff I don't want.  So I'll put it in the shopping cart.  About one out of every ten items I'll go back and actually purchase, but this has saved me a CONSIDERABLE amount of money.  I still feel that rush of "kind of" buying something.
  • LISTS!  If you know me well, you know I can't do anything without a list.  If it's not on the shopping list, 99% of the time it won't be purchased.
  • Intently focusing on gas mileage.  My CRV has this horrible feature that shows how much gas you're using at THAT MOMENT and also the average since you last reset the odometer.  (Patrick significantly lowers these numbers when he drives my car.)  Anyway, I set goals like trying to average around 28mpg by not using the AC and accelerating gently.  My grandfather drilled those things into my head (and other things like not slamming car doors).
  • The best one: FAMILY!  My grandparents are amazing and send me some money each month, and my mom visits on occasion and helps get groceries and makes food that lasts me awhile so I don't have to buy any.  This is by far the most helpful :)
One last anecdote: 
In college I lived in a dorm for only one year.  But they had maid service that restocked and cleaned, so each week I would steal a roll or two of toilet paper.  After that, I didn't buy toilet paper for over a year.  I feel like I got my $600 worth that I paid for parking that year, even though it was one-ply.

August 1, 2011

So I haven't really blogged about my clinical experience so far.  It's difficult to bring up issues that I find at work, without violating privacy or sounding like an obnoxious medical student.

I think two big issues have become evident, and they are pretty general.  The first is plain old kindness.  I've been in both shoes: being on the patient side of things, as well as the doctor side.  From a patient's point of view, I think the most important attribute a physician can have is kindness.  Empathy is important, but I think if a doctor isn't innately kind you can't truly be empathetic (and it's obvious when it's fake).  Knowledge is important, but you can train anyone to be a doctor- and you can Google or refer anything.  But over the past month, I've found that this is a two-way street.  The patient has to be kind, too.  I understand that many people in a hospital are at a low point in their life, but being rude or ungrateful can have a negative effect on a provider.

When I know that I'm about to go see an angry patient, everything in me wants to run out the door and back home.  I try not to let it affect me, but I definitely feel more inclined to help and work with a patient who isn't judgmental or impatient or rude.  As a paramedic, I saw this type of patient every day, but I could drop them off at a hospital and never see them again.  I didn't have to see them over and over for chronic problems like I do now.  Anyway, if you find yourself getting upset with a physician, take a step back: is this doctor tired or overworked?  Who else has this doctor had to deal with today?  Am I doing everything the doctor says to do, and nothing of what the doctor says not to do?

I can't even honestly say that I'm a good patient or never demanding.  But being on the other side, I know how much else there is to deal with.

The other big topic I've found that is lacking is family support.  I'm not really sure what we as clinicians can do to improve this, other than to increase awareness among family members.  I wish I could tell the story of a patient I saw today, who, like many other patients, emotionally needs support from those close to her.  Imagine being in the hospital without family or friends.  Or having major life-saving surgery and not getting any flowers or visitors.

I could only imagine how terrible that would be.  I know how important the patient's optimism and mental state is to the success of a surgery, as well as throughout the healing process.  It has to be detrimental to feel utterly alone during the toughest part of one's life.  Who doesn't want to wake up from anesthesia surrounded by those you love??  And the biggest question is who doesn't want to be there for a loved one??

Anyway, these are things I have little control over.  But seeing it from the other side makes me more aware as a patient and as a family member.

July 29, 2011

when it rains..

I'm definitely in a twitter mindset (140 characters or less) now that I'm a third year...have to conserve time!  This morning's events, however, take up a bit more space....

Got the day off from work to take care of my car registration which is being switched to SC (the NC insurance company took 2 years to realize I no longer lived there- great for me, my dad paid for it).  Anyway, I paid the property taxes yesterday afternoon, and woke up early this morning to go to the DMV.  The first thing I realize is that I cannot find the insurance information that I got in the mail YESTERDAY.  I was extremely tired last night but did a bunch of filing, so it's probably in the Bandaid folder stuck to the back of his last vet record...anyway, after about an hour of searching I gave up and just printed off the temporary card (which it turns out later I didn't even need).

So I get into my car and realize that I don't have any gas.  So I got gas.

Then I pulled into the DMV and realized they don't do first-time registration. Had to go in and ask which locations do them (that was not listed online).  So it was either downtown or North Charleston...figured I was closer to downtown but it'd be busy.  So on the way I had a brilliant idea- to pick up my prescription from the MUSC pharmacy while I was downtown.  It wasn't so bad after all!

So I call the pharmacy while driving, and of course, I had no refills.  My prescription was on my fridge (which I specifically looked at this morning trying to find my insurance), and my badge for parking was in my bag on the dining table.  I'd have to go home and come back.  (Unfortunately, MUSC's prices for some meds are SO much cheaper and I won't be back in Charleston for several weeks.)

So I get to the DMV.  Except no where on any of the signs does it indicate that there is a DMV inside.  Walked in, found it.  Full.  VERY FULL.  Got a number.

After about 20 minutes of waiting, I hear a man with a very thick accent above the noise of the crowd.  He was really, really angry.  Apparently he got stopped by the police and didn't have proof of insurance.  So he believes that since everything is electronic, they should be able to just look it up on their computer.  Apparently police don't keep those records (hence why you get asked for it), because it changes so frequently.

Anyway, this guy yells about how it is inconveniencing him to have to come wait in a line for several hours.  Yeah, well it's an inconvenience for me too.  Except I'm there to do something LEGAL whereas he is there for something ILLEGAL.  But I still have to wait.  I wanted to ask him what he was being kept from.  A critical patient?  A dying family member?  An important business transaction?  (I suspect it was more along the lines of lunch in front of a TV somewhere.)

So I know my luck has been bad this morning.  But it gets worse.  This idiot comes and sits down RIGHT NEXT TO ME.  He fidgets for a bit, then gets back up (sigh of relief) and yells some more.  A manager came out and tried to talk to him.  He says he's going to file complaints.  Then, of course, he comes back and sits next to me.

So after about an hour, I finally get called.  Well, apparently I didn't fill out the back of the form.  Luckily the DMV lady didn't make me sit back down.  I'm filling it out, forget some information, and flip through my staff of papers.  Darn if my dad hadn't already filled out all the paperwork.  So I hand it to the lady, and she gives me a dirty look.  She clearly asked me, "did YOU actually sign these," and I have to explain that it was a week ago and that I did indeed sign it myself.

So I got my license plate and registration.

Then I went to get my oil changed.  Luckily there was almost no line (wow!  My luck has changed!).  But then the man behind the counter starts talking.  And talking.  And I mention (don't ask why) that it's a bit overdue for an oil change.  He told me I needed an "@$$ whooping" for not doing it on time.  Then he says some other stuff about the old owner who recently just disappeared, and then repeated the whooping part.  So I tried to deflect and said that my boyfriend was supposed to do it for me.  (Sorry Patrick.)  Then the guy tells me that HE needs an @$$ whooping and that I should probably find a new boyfriend.

Anyway, I try to end the conversation quickly.  So I sit down (nowhere to go, of course).  And then I overhear the new owner guy talking with one of the mechanics...they've drained my oil but the supplier forgot to drop off more oil this morning.  ARE YOU KIDDING?  They have no oil.

(Ok they eventually get oil, so that gets resolved).  But the worst part was listening to this guy talk.  He kept talking about how important customer service is (guess that includes SUGGESTING but not giving @$$ whoopings), and how he would never do stuff like other places (which he proceeded to go into detail about). He gave lots of examples of other customers, which I thought wasn't very professional.  Apparently another guy waiting outside was from Savannah (I mentioned I was staying there...longer story), and the owner guy was like, "OMIGOSH you can take him back to Savannah!" Apparently the guy's wife is in the hospital here, his car is broken, and he needs to get back to Savannah.  I can't believe he a) told me this and b) told me I could drive him to Savannah.

Anyway, there was a lot more but I won't bore you with the details.  I went all the way back home, all the way back to downtown Charleston, then to James Island for some work shoes, and then got stuck in an accident on the way home.  Luckily after that things settled down.

Hopefully the weekend will be less eventful.

July 19, 2011

Must love pink...or pottery barn

I'm super busy with school but there isn't much to comment on. So instead of reflecting on that, I'll take a few seconds to reflect on what I'd like if I wasn't a student (and therefore not broke).





June 26, 2011

Kate SPADE!

Omigosh, for those of you who know me, I absolutely LOVE kate spade!  On the way back from Orlando there was an outlet and I got two large bags and this gorgeous pair of pink shoes (the shoes were less than $40!!!):

June 23, 2011

The ABCs

As I mentally prepare myself for the biggest transition of my medical school career- from pre-clinical to clinical student- I can't help but be reminded of my humble beginnings in EMS.

For the past two years, I've been sitting in a classroom with 160 other students and an "even" playing field- most of the classroom knowledge is so specific that no one really goes in with an advantage. But as I review my schedule for orientation week, I cant help but fixate on the Wednesday afternoon CPR class.

I'm sure that most of my classmates have taken the class, but I wonder how many of them have had to put it to use. Not only that, but frequently be in situations where the life of a patient depends on the split second decisions and actions of a 20-year-old paramedic.

Driving today, I reflected on some of the calls that have heavily shaped and influenced my "clinical personality." For some reason, a call that I hadn't thought about in years kept replaying in my head.

Returning from Duke University's ER after one critically ill patient, I vividly remember the dispatch to another ambulance for a pedestrian struck on a highway. I was trying to get back to my district before letting the dispatch center know we were available, and we weren't there yet. But we were, by far, nearer than the next-closest ambulance.

I immediately weighed the options in my head: keep going, and avoid a messy call, or go the ethical route and handle the call. My EMT partner, who was driving, looked at me as if to ask me what I wanted to do. I know she wouldn't have judged me if I had ignored the call, but I knew I couldn't live with myself if the patient died. I would always wonder if the extra few minutes could have saved him.

I picked up the radio and notified dispatch of our decision. Later I realized that I could have been reprimanded for not alerting them I was available, but at that time, that was the last thing I was thinking about.

I was a new paramedic- I think I'd only been "fully released" (allowed to function without another medic) for a few months, and with no other scene information, I had no idea what I was walking into.

We literally pulled up on the scene within a few minutes, and it was something I'll never forget. It was a huge highway (540 for those of you familiar with Raleigh), with four lanes on each side. In one of the middle lanes I saw a heavily clad African American man (it was the middle of summer) lying on the pavement. The speed limit in that area is 65mph. A few cars had pulled off to the shoulder- out of the corner of my eye I noticed a few hysterical bystanders.

To this day I have no idea what possessed this man to try and cross the highway at rush hour, but the woman who struck him (purely by unavoidable accident), believes he had dropped some sort of tool and had run out to retrieve it. She was clearly upset but talking to her for any longer would be futile, so I turned to the patient.

We strategically parked directly behind the patient to protect us and the patient from traffic, but the entire time I was on the scene I couldn't help but think about all the passing cars going 65mph inches away from me.

As a crew of two females, we had little choice but to stay put. My poor partner had to endure my frantic demands- radio for help, get a backboard, get the EKG monitor. First responders, usually on scene before us and better equipped to deal with heavy traffic, were several minutes away. They were also coming from the other direction on a divided highway so I had to watch them drive by my scene as I helplessly pushed on this poor man's chest.

While it seems impossible to survive such an impact, I could not find any actual injuries on the patient, as desperately as I searched. Based on that alone, I made the decision to work the cardiac arrest- in other words, attempt to resuscitate him.

Between the two of us (my partner, aptly named Angel, was truly was an angel that day), we managed to have the patient packaged for transport by the time help arrived (which is a feat, just take my word for it!). He didn't have a heartbeat, but there was still electrical activity in his heart, so I did my best to jumpstart it. Since I couldn't defibrillate him (PEA for medical geeks!), I did CPR for about 10 minutes. If anyone had ever done CPR, you know that it's exhausting. It's recommended that you switch people every few minutes in order to maintain adequate technique.

With help, we loaded him up and went back to Duke. I felt so ashamed pushing the stretcher into the ER. He had no IV, no endotracheal tube, nothing. I basically just ran a BLS code. I had one fireman to alternate CPR and ventilating him and that was all I could manage.

Looking back, I realize that I did the right thing. All my decisions were sound and logical. I could defend any one of my choices in court.

In medicine, you always start patient care with the ABCs- airway, breathing and circulation. Truly, the basics were this patient's best shot. I could have stopped CPR to intubate him so I wouldn't be humiliated by the doctor, but that would've been for my ego, and not the patient's best interest.

The team of doctors and nurses who took over had just seen us leave and knew our time limitations.  They even commended our efforts. They continued resuscitation efforts briefly, but everyone knew it was futile.

I learned a lot that day. A lot about myself, and a lot about sticking to my guns. There wasn't anything I could've done differently (I believe) that would have saved this man's life, but I did the right thing. I gave him the best shot possible.

I still don't know why he died; I can only make the assumption that he had a traumatic brain injury with severe hemorrhage. I also don't know why he ran into the highway, but it must have been something important that led him to risk his life.

I'm really dreading this CPR class next week with a hundred fellow students who don't know what it's really like, but I know that as I sit there I'll be reminded of the countless patients who did (and some who did not) survive because of my basic skills from training at the beginning of my career.

June 22, 2011

20 dumbest things about being in your 20s

I "hole-hartedly" disagree with most of these statements.  While they may apply to many people, I think they are far from accurate in describing a majority of people in their 20s (and by that I mean, I don't think most of these apply to >50%).  Here is the list, from a TruTV article (things I REALLY disagree with are highlighted):


You discover that a college diploma doesn't mean squat.

Fact: More than 40% of college students graduate owing over $20,000 in student loans.

You're thrust into college at an age where you barely know your ass from your elbow, let alone what you want to do with your life. So you end up paying out the wazoo to study something dumb, like philosophy or religious studies, because it sounds cool. Four years later: Congrats! You have a nice piece of paper, no professional skills and thousands of dollars in debt.

That darn "Quarterlife Crisis" hits when you least expect it.

Fact: The average age of those first diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder is around 25 years old.

That awkward, anxious, uncertain period of time that hits as you transition from adolescence into adulthood is known as the "Quarterlife Crisis" — a trendy term for the freak-out that comes with the realization that you, and only you, can accept responsibility for your decisions. I know I suffered from the QLC because I was given a book about it as a graduation gift, which I read thoroughly in between teary, frantic phone calls to my father and the occasional dosage of Klonopin. But no amount of drugs, friends, fancy cars or books can save you — you simply plow through this twentysomething purgatory as best you can. Though if you must, feel free to purchase Quarterlife Crisis: The Unique Challenges of Life in Your Twenties.

Dating is a joke.

Fact: Two-thirds of twentysomethings spend some time living with a romantic partner without being married.

Dating doesn't exist in your 20s. If you're not busy hooking up with everyone and their mom, you're diving headfirst into a relationship with the first person who will put up with your sh*t. Unless you take the time to really get to know anyone (including yourself), and find out exactly what it is you want in a partner, you'll wind up in an unhappy relationship, battling your own personal Weinergate.

You don't take care of yourself in any shape or form.

Fact: In 2008, approximately 27% of people aged 18 to 34 did not have health insurance.

Note to Invincible Man: The chain smoking, heavy drinking and excessive amounts of sun exposure will catch up with you. Your Speedy Gonzalez metabolism will eventually slow down and you'll have to swap the pizza and beer for fruits and vegetables. And strawberry-flavored edible panties don't count.

The place you call home is no more than a disgusting, dumpy squalor.

Fact: One-third of people in their 20s move to a new residence every year.

Unless you're living with your parents, what little place you can afford is merely a step above a cardboard box that comes equipped with a couple of obnoxious, lazy a-holes known as "roommates." The dishes pile up and you refuse to clean, because you always clean, and hey, it's the principle. The good news is that when you do finally get your own place, you'll get to furnish the cockroach-infested squalor with hand-me-downs and plastic junk from Ikea!

You're not as smart as you think you are.

Fact: A person's brain is not fully matured until at least age 25.

Just because you graduated from high school and you pay your own bills, it doesn't mean you have the world on your own personal brightly colored string. You may as well take your youthful arrogance and go invest in some diapers, because You Know Nothing, a fact which you will repeatedly be reminded of throughout your 20s.

You work way too hard for too little pay at a crappy job.

Fact: People go through an average of eight jobs in their 20s, more than any other stretch.

Once you do choose a career you think you will be able to tolerate for the next 40 years, you have to start from the depths of hell. Whether an intern, an administrative assistant or somebody's personal slave, starting from the bottom isn't exactly glamorous. Sometimes you don't even get paid. While interning at a popular tabloid rag, I worked grueling hours for free, fetching coffee and transcribing interviews. The only thing I learned was how to avoid carpal tunnel. This is called "paying your dues," and it sucks balls.

You think you're fat and ugly.

Fact: Nearly 30% of people who got Botox injections in 2009 were under the age of 30.

You hate your big nose, butt chin, love handles, forehead wrinkles, etc. In truth, you look as good as you're ever going to look, so embrace it. And if you think you're fat now, just wait until you're a 50-year-old sloth with a beer gut and age spots.

You're broke, but you spend money on stupid stuff anyway.

Fact: We are the first generation not projected to do better financially than our parents.

You can barely make ends meet on your pathetic entry-level salary, so you sign up for a credit card. Having an emergency card is a nice thought, but applying for five credit cards is notworth the free coffee mug. I didn't get the memo and wound up with a coffee mug, some useless handbags and $8,000 in debt. The interest made it impossible to pay off, so I cashed out my 401K in order to dig myself out of the financial suckhole, and now I have no retirement savings. Lesson? The minute you start seeing credit as "free money," you're in trouble. It's easy to swipe but a pain to pay off.

You still behave like a kid, so no one takes you seriously.

Fact: Most Americans believe that "adulthood" begins at age 26.

Blink-182 had a point: "Nobody likes you when you're 23, and you still act like you're in freshman year." What the hell is wrong with you? Much of the crud you pulled in adolescence is no longer acceptable in your 20s, but you're not an adult either, no matter how much youthink you are. So in turn, no one really takes anything you say or do seriously. Sad face.

The dreaded draft could happen at any time.

Fact: In case of a national emergency, every male aged 18 to 25 must register for the Selective Service, otherwise known as the "draft."

We haven't used the draft since the Vietnam War because we have an all-volunteer military. But in the event that the government calls up the draft, the burden will fall on dudes in their 20s. So practice those squats and push-ups now.

You drink too much.

Fact: Rates of binge drinking are highest among those aged 18 to 25.

Young adults often seek reprieve from this tumultuous decade by drinking their emotions through a big plastic funnel. Whether because of stress, boredom, insecurity or simply the aching desire to get laid, twentysomethings get out-of-control tanked far more than any other age group. The onslaught of stupid beverages like Four Loko and silly get-sloshed-quick challenges (you've been iced, bro!) don't exactly foster responsible drinking, either.

You can barely rent a car, and if you do, you have to pay for your age.

Fact: In 2008, approximately 27% of all U.S. car crashes involved drivers under the age of 25.

You learn to drive at 16 — that's nine solid years of behind-the-wheel experience! Yet you are stuck paying insane fees if you want to rent a car and are under the age of 25, because apparently, you are not to be trusted. Then again, it could be because you drink too much.

You can't take back those stupid, impulsive decisions you make.

Fact: 36% of those aged 18 to 29 have at least one tattoo.

Twentysomethings are fickle beings, so if you love Tweety Bird now, you might not love him at 40. Therefore, it might be best not to get the dumb yellow cartoon tattooed on your forearm, unless you've given it a lifetime of thought. I proceeded to get a large, emo-esque star tattooed on my wrist (see above) when my boyfriend and I broke up. Maybe I wanted to deflect the pain from my newly broken heart, or perhaps I was acting out, but either way, I can't help but wonder what the hell I was thinking.

Your friends are jerks, and you neglect the important people.

Fact: Between the ages of 15 and 25 is when most people establish lifelong friendships.

Many of your buddies are suffering from their own mid-20s meltdowns, so in turn they behave like selfish, jerky turdheads. You don't really care, so long as you don't have to sit alone at the bar. Meantime, you often neglect those who really matter, who love you no matter what — your family and friends who stick by you through all the boozy blackouts, broken hearts and bad hair days.

Crazy, crippling, ridiculous insecurities are around every turn.

Fact: Of people 20 to 29 years old, 41% feel significantly pressured or have "almost more stress than they can bear."

Full of firsts (first job, first apartment, first raise, first bounced check), this third decade of life can come as a shock. Nothing (I mean, nothing) is ever how you plan it. You're probably not going be married at 25 and making six figures at 27. You might get laid off or knocked up or terminally ill. There's no way to tell, but you focus so hard on the destination, you miss the journey entirely.

You're overly obsessed with social media and your imaginary friends.

Fact: 48% of 18 to 34 year olds check Facebook right when they wake up.

Facebook, Twitter and FourSquare — these are the only links to your old life, your friends from high school or college. You hang on to this time period desperately, spending more time than you like to admit voyeuristically obsessing over everyone else's seemingly better, more interesting lives. But no one posts photos of their breakup or that time they got fired. Their lives suck as much as yours does! Besides, most of these people aren't even your real friends.

You're a whiny, spoiled brat.

Fact: Nearly two-thirds of young adults in their early 20s receive economic support from their parents. The number of twentysomethings living at home has risen by 50% since the 1970s.

Twentysomethings often take their parents (and everyone else around them) for granted, thanks to a false sense of entitlement because it is so haaaard being a young adult these days. So they sob into their smartphones and iPods and MacBooks, when they should really be slapped for being such silly, clueless tard monkeys.

You freak out over turning 30.

Fact: At age 30, you're older (and wiser) than 42 percent of Americans.

Attempting to survive your 20s can be so startlingly horrific, it would only make sense to get psyched about your 30th birthday, right? Yet so many twentysomethings obsessively dread entering this newer, gentler, kinder decade, when we should all take solace in the fact that the 30s are when the fun really starts. (Or so I hear.)

June 21, 2011

more instagrams!

the first couple are from london, and the last couple are some miscellaneous that I didn't know where to publish...enjoy!






Bandaid passed out on my pencil box and notecards

The candy aisle in the Japanese store in Cary

Patrick and Bandaid taking a nap together :)

Today's stoplight troubles...couldn't make a left turn :(

A small fraction of the notecards I made from studying for boards