the family doctor

So it's no secret the southern people are fat. I battle my weight constantly. However, I had legitimate medical issues at the doctor today, a failing right kidney that seems to be always on the verge of collapse, other things I won't go into here as it's not relevant. The ONE thing I did not worry as much about today was my weight. The reason? I have all the skills required to fix it (and subsequently joined a gym to resume my intense spin classes immediately after this visit). There were some interesting characters in the clinic today. For one, the family medicine clinic has a policy that if a patient is 20 minutes late, they reschedule. I'm so PROUD of them for this, because people in Kentucky are usually very, very very late with no apology. I wanted to cheer for this like "yea, you tell em!"

Some of the snippets I overheard today:

"Well I didn't know I had to BATHE before this appointment"

(a girl on her cell phone who arrived an hour late, blaming it on the bus) "Yeah, my baby got to stay in daycare for an extra three hour just because that BITCH (said louder for emotive power) tell me I have to be on time for my doctor visit. What he gonna say, that I still pregnant. Yeah, I know I is."

....this one I actually took as an iphone audio file, but thought better of posting.

Or the woman who didn't fit in any of the chairs that asked to be seen earlier because "I just don't fit in this waiting room"

(in response to the commercial for the Soma backless bra)..."What do I need that for, I don't wear one now" (let's just be clear, she SHOULD wear 2, at all times)

I took my knitting as I usually do- and the husband of one of the patients kept staring at me saying "you make that look so easy"....he said it 4 times in the waiting room and once while I was waiting to have labs done. My response, nervous shuffling.

It's no wonder that when, I, a provider who is concise, accurate and proficient in providing history gets a parade and a hug. What a way to spend 2 days of my time off, visiting specialists.

It's hot enough to....wear a mumu as an obese man? Yes.

It's a 102 in the shade here in Sexy-Lexington...



I have some amazing neighbors. Fun people who make me laugh at the people around me. My neighbor across the breezeway who thinks I'm a demon-sinner...she moved out. BUT not before she posted THIS memo on the apartment website:

"Our family endured to much living there and our teenager was miserable and hated living there!
Where is true morality' They condone all types of immoral acts on the property of Patchen Oaks!
If you are a christian this place is not for you! This place is an abomination to all Godly Acts and they allow to much filth to continue to go on here! Children are subjected to enough in life without the trash they daily are subjected to at that sorry apartment complex! There is mold through out the entire complex! You can see it growing under areas where you have pictures hanging and behind furniture! Look around your baseboards! You can smell it in the breezeway real bad in building 8 We were sick from day one of moving into our apartment! Told Karen and never got a response! We were healthy when we moved in and sick the entire time we lived there we had diarrhea and vomiting! Heavy headaches! Nausea constantly!!! Since we moved out we have none been sick or felt bad at all!! We went to doctors while living there and they said it must be something in the building!"

Read more: http://www.apartmentratings.com/rate/KY-Lexington-Patchen-Oaks-Apartments-1280472.html#ixzz1RqvP9kOd

Incidentally- these people smoked in the "moldy breezeway" for hours, chain smoking. When they moved out I counted 15 silk plants. I'm not sure the nausea and diarrhea wasn't just the "sinking in" of reality that his name was actually Billy Bob and his "dress suit" was camo.

What made me open my eyes tonight and say "WOW" was the heat wave's effect. My morbidly obese neighbor who must apply self-tanner the way whales are coated with sea water was on the porch in "juicy" couture booty shorts fanning himself in a hawaiian mumu. My initial thought wasn't "oh no, sinners"...but rather "wonder if I can get ME one of them. In green."

As I went into the pool for a tepid 10pm dip tonight...there were children snorkeling around, punching each other in the face and neck, yelling things like "watch this" as they belly flopped into the water..It reminded me of that show "deadliest catch"; except the catch is impetigo.

My "south" is a place where my friends have their OWN pools, and we swim in them late night without fear of spinal injury or death from above. Unfortunately, "my south" is 6.5 hours away...and my "reality" is considering buying some cortizone as a preventative ointment, a helmet... and a mumu.

Hey mama! Let's chicken fight on daddy-brother and cousin bobby's heads!

I am the first to admit on many levels I don't belong here. I am a true southern girl...I do not have any instincts when it comes to greasing a pig or mining coal...but this is where I am. Which means, I adapt. I must admit hill people can be spicy in their humor. I was laying poolside yesterday and observing a family. Mom, stepdad, daughter with multiple tattoes including a pair of angel wings with a ring of fire on it ....the word "multiply" written across her abdomen as well as multiple asian symbols which I can only imagine are her "go-to" orders at Jin-Jin so there are no need for words and her best friend (who had braces?!?). What amazed me is the simplicity. There is no worry about "getting ahead at work" or "learning to read" There was much debate over whether or not 50 chicken nuggets would be "enough for a light snack" for 4 people...there was the discussion of the ATV accident that left her boyfriend with an abdominal lac that had been hastily re-stitched, making his "thug life" tattoo crooked. There was the question asked of me "what's that you reading." I replied "ah, this is the assessment and management guide for pediatric feeding and swallowing disorders" which fell on blank stares (I did LOVE the response of my neighbor who said "yeh man, I'm just waiting for the movie instead). All in all I find I'm adapting. I just oil myself up with banana boat, put on my ipod featuring new orleans jazz and read about the pediatric pharyngeal space being smaller allowing for better division of the airway. Today is the 4th and it's raining. So I'm being a true american: I ordered chinese and I'm knitting in my pajamas.

You's ain't from round here, is ya?

So it's no secret I'm single. I have my own scars and regrets about a former relationship that in many ways, propels me into some of the most comical dating scenarios. In Kentucky I have had MANY single dates...not many second dates. I was recently telling a coworker about them, and she encouraged me to blog about these men. First of all, they are from various sources, some are set ups from my married neighbor Robyn, from West Virginia, some from Match.com, and 2 from E-harmony. I have pretty basic standards. I have a job, live on my own, have education enough to not be addicted to meth and get to the dentist regularly. Does my date need these things? Yes. Do my dates always have these? Lord baby Jesus no.

There was (for the sake of the innocent) we'll call him B. A PhD in engineering who worked for a farm equipment company. We actually did 2 dates as one of them he brilliantly concealed his jagged meth mouth (i.e. broken chocolate chiclet teeth)...date #2 we saw "The King's Speech" and had a discussion about his teeth; he stated "18 months to have teeth done is too long". Not a single tooth in his mouth was whole, white, and I have no idea how he eats corn chips...which he loves without diffuse mandibular spasms.

The second bad tooth was just this weekend. This man worked for Toyota and didn't have a single tooth in his mouth. I probed gently about whether Toyota provided dental insurance...his response was "Aw, I don't need to worry about all that." He ate a steak, well done, butterflied...I don't know what was more upsetting, his teeth or what he did to that steak....WHO eats a WELL DONE STEAK that isn't 8 years old? I wanted to order him a plate of whole apples.... At the end of the night he worried about what we'd do on our next date. Well, cowboy, it's likely with a grill like that you also don't need to worry about gingivitis, long relationships, or what I want for Christmas.

There was the man at the dog park who asked me to Walmart...for dinner. That one I considered as I do think all people deserve a chance. I find that most men my age have 3-4 kids, (in some cases 5-6)...have angry ex wives and never knew a woman who pushed herself to finish a Master's degree when I could have been a couch potato and marry into a rich family and make babies. Might I mention the elementary school teacher who pretended to believe in God in order to teach at a local private Catholic School? There was the local real estate magnate, who lied about his age, warping 58 to 41...and having to get up from the table at dinner to take his "sugar reading". Might I add...the man who I met who posted pictures of himself from 1993...and weighed so much he didn't fit in an open booth, he also couldn't walk 15 feet without "taking a break." There are more, but the longer I reminisce, the dirtier I feel... (wait- did I mention the Iraq veteran who threw a beer at my cat, thinking it was a terrorist?)...

The irony is, the more I date, the less I need to fill the "role" of a man in my life. I feel more confident, whole, and self-assured knowing I can provide for myself, and incidentally, I have a dental cleaning and films scheduled for September 1, 11:30 am at the Kentucky Clinic...because I don't want to be "that girl."

"well, that's pretty typical for the Ohio River Valley"

Rain. Droves. Piles. Streams. Mud...aplenty. Puppy, soaking wet and curled up in front of a warm fire after a long rainy stroll on an unseasonably cold May day. It's amazing how often people talk about the weather here...Wisconsin was similar. Georgia we only talked about it if it was 105 and we'd run out of water...which does happen on occasion. I find that my mood, my energy level, and my tolerance for my dog sniffing squirrel trails is all in direct proportion to whether or not the sky is pissing. My trips to the Keeneland Race track, and also my lack of attendance at the Kentucky Derby were directly impacted by this rain. The bluegrass is so lush because it's drowning!

As spring transitions into summer I'm enjoying evening walks with Bailey through gardens, seeing my puppy embrace his large form and frolick with all the purebred labs who get to visit Ashland at night. I've had a few too many encounters with oddities at the dog park to rock it out nightly. What I'm really excited for? Baseball. More to come as I decide whether or not to support the Cincinnati Reds.

Playin' The Ponies

Well,

We're rounding the corner on the month of April, and I made sure to expose myself to Keeneland. Keeneland is an adult playland where for $5 you can watch horses race, young tan women prance around in inappropriately short dresses on rainy, windy days, and lots of men smoke, drink and bet on bigillion dollar race horses. I myself won $9, then lost $6, coming out behind because of the bourbon, but still gratified that I have bet "across the board" on a horse named Evacuation Route. My other choice, Miss Gracie, scratched, the brat...so my days as a gambler were short lived. What it reminds me of is a saying my godmother used to use. She of course, is always good for either a very uplifting mantra, or can squash an awkward teen's self confidence. The gem I recall is "rebecca, you're a better work horse than a show horse." Looking at these women in fantastic small dresses, prancing around in heels and hats despite 20mph winds, driving rain and 40degree temps tells me in a way she is right. I was wearing a scarf, a north face jacket, cowboy boots and pants...and in no aberrant fantasy land was I remotely interested in spraying my beehive with white rain, putting on a silk dress and showing my bare legs. In that respect, I'll prefer the work to the show.

I look forward to the October Keeneland Race...this one to me should be less rainy, less humid and hopefully people have the sense to cover their limbs?

i feel like I did that with my mind

The phenomena of a good southern girl is incomplete without fitness. We are either naturally skinny, morbidly obese, or struggling somewhere in the middle. I, for some time now have been struggling. I own a spin bike, 3 kettlebells, a balance ball, a sporty car, a sporty dog...and a big a$$. So...today I took my brand new, overpriced ergonomic "you only need to wear the one" sports bra for a spring jog with my lab, Bailey. Bailey is good, he attracts the right kinds of men, kids and other dogs so that I always make new friends. Today, he attracted 3 off duty very very handsome police officers. What also attracted them during our brief chat must have been my very expensive sports bra suddenly unzipping itself. Seeing their face was a mix of shock and delight, and all I could do was kinda bend over in half as I felt it not only unzip, but pull away completely. This would be a moment where any good southern girl would turn bright red. My response was hollow...a gasp. I wish I had been like "which one of you is telepathic"...however I managed to be very embarrassed and then scuttle away to rezip my chest behind one of those green utility boxes. In true gentleman/redneck form, they simple resumed beer drinking. Sexy points for Rebecca? -50. What I'm debating is how to leave comments for this item on REI.com without sounding like an unintentional stripper. Which, I guess I am.