Dear Bono,
A strange thing happened to me yesterday. I ordered a cat food container to keep the ants out (I am a nice cat owner to my cat I rescued from a wood pile in Southeast DC. Now that I think about it, she should just be grateful to not be still living under that woodpile). Anyway, the box arrived and was slightly open. Eh, no worries, nothing too valuable in there. So I opened the box the rest of the way, and there is a J Crew pink bridesmaid dress in there.
My guess is that it fell out of it's actual box, and UPS saw my box was partially open and figured it went in there and put it in.
So Bono, what do I do? Call J. Crew and see if they can figure out where it belongs? Call UPS? Return it and try and get store credit (a couple of people suggested that). My husband said that it's actually like the show, "Say Yes to the Dress" and I need to say yes to it and wear it. It's not my color...
JP
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Thursday, August 21, 2014
I can't, I'm working
Dear Bono,
You're a busy man. I'm sure you're constantly torn in multiple directions trying to figure out the best balance and the right prioritization (hint: sometimes it's just getting the new album done already). Welp, Bono, you area not alone! I am also very busy. Indeed, I work hours and hours and hours and hours a day, then also every 3rd night. And every 3rd weekend. Nonstop. Ahh, the life of a surgical trainee. It's actually kind of appalling when I tell people about it. So much so, that I can't believe that it is my life and I am living it. (This is also the experience I had last weekend when I was telling a visiting pediatric surgeon from Nigeria about healthcare in the U.S., and how we can't get everyone coverage, and how physician reimbursements are-like how surgeons don't get paid for seeing a patient that had surgery within 30 days because it's part of a global fee, etc, and the more I told him about it the more he said "this is not right" and I just had to agree. But I digress.)
Anyway, there have been many MANY events over the past 9 years of my life that I have missed due to medical school or residency. Family reunions (in Costa Rica, no less), birthdays (I have not yet met my 15 month old nephew), holidays (I made it home for 1 Christmas in the past 5 years. That was worth it though-it was a surprise and my husband and I showed up at his home for Christmas Eve dinner and my home on Christmas morning. Worth the $2000 bucks for tickets. No Thanksgivings.) A friend of mine is getting married in December and I just was looking at the RSVP. Probably can't go because it's over the holiday schedule, and a reception in Las Vegas is on a Friday and I can't make it there because it is 4 hrs away when I work every night until 7pm, and then the one in DC (a 1 hr flight) is on a Monday night, so also not going to happen. Why must my life always be "I can't, I'm working?"
Bono, I need to find a job that will let me sometimes answer "sure, I can make it. And I can help set up/clean up too!"
-JP
You're a busy man. I'm sure you're constantly torn in multiple directions trying to figure out the best balance and the right prioritization (hint: sometimes it's just getting the new album done already). Welp, Bono, you area not alone! I am also very busy. Indeed, I work hours and hours and hours and hours a day, then also every 3rd night. And every 3rd weekend. Nonstop. Ahh, the life of a surgical trainee. It's actually kind of appalling when I tell people about it. So much so, that I can't believe that it is my life and I am living it. (This is also the experience I had last weekend when I was telling a visiting pediatric surgeon from Nigeria about healthcare in the U.S., and how we can't get everyone coverage, and how physician reimbursements are-like how surgeons don't get paid for seeing a patient that had surgery within 30 days because it's part of a global fee, etc, and the more I told him about it the more he said "this is not right" and I just had to agree. But I digress.)
Anyway, there have been many MANY events over the past 9 years of my life that I have missed due to medical school or residency. Family reunions (in Costa Rica, no less), birthdays (I have not yet met my 15 month old nephew), holidays (I made it home for 1 Christmas in the past 5 years. That was worth it though-it was a surprise and my husband and I showed up at his home for Christmas Eve dinner and my home on Christmas morning. Worth the $2000 bucks for tickets. No Thanksgivings.) A friend of mine is getting married in December and I just was looking at the RSVP. Probably can't go because it's over the holiday schedule, and a reception in Las Vegas is on a Friday and I can't make it there because it is 4 hrs away when I work every night until 7pm, and then the one in DC (a 1 hr flight) is on a Monday night, so also not going to happen. Why must my life always be "I can't, I'm working?"
Bono, I need to find a job that will let me sometimes answer "sure, I can make it. And I can help set up/clean up too!"
-JP
Saturday, August 16, 2014
Mix Tape
Dear Bono,
Remember mix tapes? I loved making them. Recording songs I loved off the radio. I remember permanently having a blank tape in one of slots on my 2 deck sound system just in case something great came on. I probably still have that tape somewhere with the Hollywood remix of "Desire" and the extended mix of "Two Hearts Beat As One." Somehow being able to just go to iTunes and download any song takes some of the fun.
I've been trying to put together a care package for my sister in law. What do you give someone who will be in the hospital getting chemo for a month? So far I have earrings (what woman wouldn't want gorg Kate Spade earrings), a hat (Beaker from the Muppets. His perma-panicked expression matches my feelings most of the time), the Doris Day/Rock Hudson movie collection on DVD, and plans for some macaroons, lip balm, lotions, socks. I was thinking what else to get, and then I thought about a CD. But then my thoughts went back to iTunes, and how nobody buys CDs anymore. Screw it. I made a mix CD.
My husband made me a mix CD 11 years ago. This was before we were really dating. We were still in that "friends" "hanging out" phase. He dropped it off at my college apartment before he went home for the weekend. I wasn't home and was surprised when my roommate showed me the gift. I always thought I liked him more than he liked me. To that end, I tried not to read too much into the CD. Not long thereafter, we actually started dating. At some point, I made him a mix CD (pre-iTunes, post Napster era). I put all kinds of great songs on it, and some special rarities including one of your own 1976 demos. I put this at the end of the CD, knowing he loved U2, and thinking he may have not heard it. Unfortunately, it was titled "The Dream is Over" (whoa whoa whoaaaaaaaaa) and he, unlike me, read a lot into each song on the CD. Oops. He still won't let me forget that (though I won't let him forget the time that before we were dating he had me order a Freur album off Amazon, even though I said he could borrow it from my sister who already had it (random), and he never paid me back).
Because of this thing that people do of apparently finding meaning in mix CDs that really the only meaning is "here, I hope you like this" I spent several hours stressing out over what songs to put on this CD. Obviously, it needs to be uplifting. And Phil Collins never hurts ("I have two ears and a heart, don't I?" Which, come to think of it, should be the title of a Phil Collins biopic, should one be made). Any other recommendations?
-JP
Remember mix tapes? I loved making them. Recording songs I loved off the radio. I remember permanently having a blank tape in one of slots on my 2 deck sound system just in case something great came on. I probably still have that tape somewhere with the Hollywood remix of "Desire" and the extended mix of "Two Hearts Beat As One." Somehow being able to just go to iTunes and download any song takes some of the fun.
I've been trying to put together a care package for my sister in law. What do you give someone who will be in the hospital getting chemo for a month? So far I have earrings (what woman wouldn't want gorg Kate Spade earrings), a hat (Beaker from the Muppets. His perma-panicked expression matches my feelings most of the time), the Doris Day/Rock Hudson movie collection on DVD, and plans for some macaroons, lip balm, lotions, socks. I was thinking what else to get, and then I thought about a CD. But then my thoughts went back to iTunes, and how nobody buys CDs anymore. Screw it. I made a mix CD.
My husband made me a mix CD 11 years ago. This was before we were really dating. We were still in that "friends" "hanging out" phase. He dropped it off at my college apartment before he went home for the weekend. I wasn't home and was surprised when my roommate showed me the gift. I always thought I liked him more than he liked me. To that end, I tried not to read too much into the CD. Not long thereafter, we actually started dating. At some point, I made him a mix CD (pre-iTunes, post Napster era). I put all kinds of great songs on it, and some special rarities including one of your own 1976 demos. I put this at the end of the CD, knowing he loved U2, and thinking he may have not heard it. Unfortunately, it was titled "The Dream is Over" (whoa whoa whoaaaaaaaaa) and he, unlike me, read a lot into each song on the CD. Oops. He still won't let me forget that (though I won't let him forget the time that before we were dating he had me order a Freur album off Amazon, even though I said he could borrow it from my sister who already had it (random), and he never paid me back).
Because of this thing that people do of apparently finding meaning in mix CDs that really the only meaning is "here, I hope you like this" I spent several hours stressing out over what songs to put on this CD. Obviously, it needs to be uplifting. And Phil Collins never hurts ("I have two ears and a heart, don't I?" Which, come to think of it, should be the title of a Phil Collins biopic, should one be made). Any other recommendations?
-JP
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Dinner
Dear Bono,
Today I went out to dinner with a co-worker. The one who is a year ahead of me. The one who knows the challenges of my fellowship better than anyone else. It is nice having someone to relate to.
Sincerely,
JP
Today I went out to dinner with a co-worker. The one who is a year ahead of me. The one who knows the challenges of my fellowship better than anyone else. It is nice having someone to relate to.
Sincerely,
JP
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Phone Calls
Dear Bono,
I am not an unfriendly person. I don't like crowds of people, but I get energized when I talk to some people (not all people.) I really hate talking on the phone though. Hate hate hate. Ever since I was a kid, the thought of calling someone has given me anxiety. It has eased up. Mostly because my job involves returning calls (doctor, no order for tylenol. Please place order for tylenol).
I keep thinking I need to call my sister in law, but I keep not doing it. It's easy to rationalize-she is probably getting more calls than she can handle, plus I had a lot of stuff to do at work, etc etc.
I should call though.
Sincerely,
JP
I am not an unfriendly person. I don't like crowds of people, but I get energized when I talk to some people (not all people.) I really hate talking on the phone though. Hate hate hate. Ever since I was a kid, the thought of calling someone has given me anxiety. It has eased up. Mostly because my job involves returning calls (doctor, no order for tylenol. Please place order for tylenol).
I keep thinking I need to call my sister in law, but I keep not doing it. It's easy to rationalize-she is probably getting more calls than she can handle, plus I had a lot of stuff to do at work, etc etc.
I should call though.
Sincerely,
JP
Monday, August 11, 2014
RW
Dear Bono,
Robin Williams is dead. How does it feel to have your doppelganger be gone? Not that Robin Williams was really your doppelganger-especially not in the Neil McCormick Way. Your similarities began with fame and ended with looks and extreme hairiness.
Apparently it was a suicide. An endpoint of a deep dark depression. I wish I could say I cannot fathom why people do this, but I can. I have faced darkness myself-that "God-shaped hole" you have mentioned in the past. I guess sometimes that hole can just swallow us up. With some hope, we are perhaps spat back out-off to fight another day and another chance to fill that God-shaped hole. But for some, it is a void that cannot be filled.
Sincerely,
JP
Robin Williams is dead. How does it feel to have your doppelganger be gone? Not that Robin Williams was really your doppelganger-especially not in the Neil McCormick Way. Your similarities began with fame and ended with looks and extreme hairiness.
Apparently it was a suicide. An endpoint of a deep dark depression. I wish I could say I cannot fathom why people do this, but I can. I have faced darkness myself-that "God-shaped hole" you have mentioned in the past. I guess sometimes that hole can just swallow us up. With some hope, we are perhaps spat back out-off to fight another day and another chance to fill that God-shaped hole. But for some, it is a void that cannot be filled.
Sincerely,
JP
Sunday, August 10, 2014
Emotional Cripple
Dear Bono,
I am an emotional cripple. I really feel like most of the time I just feel.... nothing? No, not nothing. Just flat. Little punctuations of emotion show through occasionally. Usually, this is signified by an exclamation point signifying anger or frustration. Occasionally, maybe a comma of calm and joyful peace. Rarely, it's a hyphen of sadness. I tend to bury that sadness.
The difficulty of my life escapes my exterior during sad movies. I melt into a mess of goopy tears that the 3 year olds sitting next to me in any given Pixar movie peer at from behind their 3-D glasses.
I returned today from a laparoscopic surgery class in Toronto. That sounds pretty bad-ass of me, doesn't it? Bono, I took out a pig's kidney from one 10 millimeter and two 5 millimeter incisions on her back. I mean, think of how good she would look in a bikini, if only pigs wore bikinis, and, obviously if she wasn't put down at the end of the day. Still... I am pretty awesome.
Except I'm not. At least that's how I feel. I feel like a small fish in a huge ocean. Maybe even one of those fish that live in the dark depths that largely go unnoticed by everyone else. A guy getting into my shuttle from the red parking lot to the airport on the way to Toronto stepped on my right foot, moved, then stepped on my left, never noticing I was there. I want to shout, "I'm right HERE, don't step on me!" But I don't. Because I bury feelings.
I managed to get an email during my trip to Toronto-my phone functions were turned off due to the high roaming charges that I cannot afford. Despite my recent 32nd birthday, I am too laden with student loans to pay 50 cents per text and 89 cents per minute on the phone. The email let me know my sister in law has cancer. She spent her birthday in the hospital getting more and more blood tests.
Bono, why is that? Why do bad things happen to good people? I know that this is a generic questions, and of course I am not really asking you. I think that this is more of an address to God, and I know you are not God, except maybe in the way Alec Baldwin was God in "Malice."
During my layover at LaGuardia, I called my in-laws. My husband doesn't yet know his sister has cancer because he is halfway across the world. Bono, I realize I haven't written you in over a year. I will have to fill you in on all that later. I didn't cry. I felt flat, yet again. On my flight home, I listened to music, skipping songs that were incongruent with my mood. I found the songs I rested on-Phosphorescent "Song for Zula", U2 "So cruel", "Love is Blindness", "One", The Ark "Stay With Me", Ryan Adams "Two", Coldplay "The Scientist", all reflected a bitter sort of love, one that may or may not long for something better. I guess that's how I feel really. Not flat, but not brightly polished like so many of the people around me are. More dull, but not in a boring sort of way. Dull the edges of my antique mirror-the one that distorts my face with the blotches and stretching that happens as mirrors lose their sparkle.
Bono, I will try and be better about writing you.
Sincerely,
Me
I am an emotional cripple. I really feel like most of the time I just feel.... nothing? No, not nothing. Just flat. Little punctuations of emotion show through occasionally. Usually, this is signified by an exclamation point signifying anger or frustration. Occasionally, maybe a comma of calm and joyful peace. Rarely, it's a hyphen of sadness. I tend to bury that sadness.
The difficulty of my life escapes my exterior during sad movies. I melt into a mess of goopy tears that the 3 year olds sitting next to me in any given Pixar movie peer at from behind their 3-D glasses.
I returned today from a laparoscopic surgery class in Toronto. That sounds pretty bad-ass of me, doesn't it? Bono, I took out a pig's kidney from one 10 millimeter and two 5 millimeter incisions on her back. I mean, think of how good she would look in a bikini, if only pigs wore bikinis, and, obviously if she wasn't put down at the end of the day. Still... I am pretty awesome.
Except I'm not. At least that's how I feel. I feel like a small fish in a huge ocean. Maybe even one of those fish that live in the dark depths that largely go unnoticed by everyone else. A guy getting into my shuttle from the red parking lot to the airport on the way to Toronto stepped on my right foot, moved, then stepped on my left, never noticing I was there. I want to shout, "I'm right HERE, don't step on me!" But I don't. Because I bury feelings.
I managed to get an email during my trip to Toronto-my phone functions were turned off due to the high roaming charges that I cannot afford. Despite my recent 32nd birthday, I am too laden with student loans to pay 50 cents per text and 89 cents per minute on the phone. The email let me know my sister in law has cancer. She spent her birthday in the hospital getting more and more blood tests.
Bono, why is that? Why do bad things happen to good people? I know that this is a generic questions, and of course I am not really asking you. I think that this is more of an address to God, and I know you are not God, except maybe in the way Alec Baldwin was God in "Malice."
During my layover at LaGuardia, I called my in-laws. My husband doesn't yet know his sister has cancer because he is halfway across the world. Bono, I realize I haven't written you in over a year. I will have to fill you in on all that later. I didn't cry. I felt flat, yet again. On my flight home, I listened to music, skipping songs that were incongruent with my mood. I found the songs I rested on-Phosphorescent "Song for Zula", U2 "So cruel", "Love is Blindness", "One", The Ark "Stay With Me", Ryan Adams "Two", Coldplay "The Scientist", all reflected a bitter sort of love, one that may or may not long for something better. I guess that's how I feel really. Not flat, but not brightly polished like so many of the people around me are. More dull, but not in a boring sort of way. Dull the edges of my antique mirror-the one that distorts my face with the blotches and stretching that happens as mirrors lose their sparkle.
Bono, I will try and be better about writing you.
Sincerely,
Me
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