On Remorse: Just Say You're Sorry

For me, remorse is a very important emotion. Doctors across America encounter Huge problems because they are unable to apologize and accept responsibility for their mistakes. In fact, admitting guilt, showing remorse, and explaining their mistakes have managed to bring down new claims of malpractice against doctors by 36%. Countless other claims are settled for less money. People need to see your remorse to let go of their anger. To me, this is fairly basic common sense. When you make a mistake, large or small, you apologize, show remorse, and are generally forgiven. Sometimes if the mistake is larger, forgiveness may take longer to come, but admitting your mistake and apologizing goes a long way towards resolving a conflict.

My honey has a very very hard time admitting guilt and showing remorse. He can usually squeeze out an "I'm sorry" but it's most often followed by an explanation of why the mistake was really your fault, not his. Example: He deleted all the data (sim card data, contacts, applications, pictures, etc) from a friends new iPhone. It was a complete accident, one he could not have foreseen, but nonetheless it happened. My reaction would be OMG I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen, is there anything I can do to help, again I'm SO sorry. He apologized after hemming and hawing and guiltily looking up ways to help online, but ended with well it's your fault you don't have a back up. This TOTALLY rubs me the wrong way. When you fuck up, accident or not, you nut up, apologize, and admit you're wrong. I know this is difficult and no one likes to feel guilty but really, this should be a no brainer. I feel like if this guy hit someone with his car, he would apologize and then explain how it's really not his fault because they should have jumped out of the way. Okay, probably not, but you get the point. I know we all show guilt differently, but I just wish his guilt looked a little more... you know, guilty.

When our children make mistakes we tell them it's okay, don't feel bad, you didn't mean it, etc etc. As cruel as this sounds, I feel like "feeling bad" is something you need to experience when you screw up. When you make a mistake, intentional or not, you should feel badly and understand how your mistakes make others feel. A healthy sense of responsibility and culpability make people more aware of their actions and more sensitive to the impact of those actions on others. Obviously you don't want to take the guilt factor too far, but you should understand that it is your actions that have caused this problem so you can work better to prevent a future problem.

Personal integrity, responsibility, and culpability are very important to me. I hate being wrong as much as the next stubborn pig-headed person does, but when I screw up I admit it. Little things like buying the wrong milk at the grocery store incur a polite apology, if it was important it's sometimes accompanied by a little guilt, and next time you remember the right variety. But for big things like having to track down 100 contacts and enter them by hand, re-download tons of applications and having to set up your entire phone from scratch deserve a pretty BIG expression of remorse and a heartfelt I'M SORRY.

Somewhere, fate is laughing

Annnnd my honey's car got a dead battery. And it was (gently) rear ended last week. I dunno what it is but this summer is just no good for cars.

http://www.cartoonstock.com/newscartoons/cartoonists/mba/lowres/mban2166l.jpg

Holy asdfghj Sh*t

I just realized my MCAT exam is in 18 days. 18 DAYS! AHHHHH!!!!! How on earth did I let it sneak up on me like this? Epic fail self. I am going to fail that test SO HARD it's not even funny. I will literally be paying $250.00 and sitting at a computer for 6 million hours so that I can FAIL MY MCAT. I have not taken a single full length practice exam. I had to call, call again, and have my tutor call to get access and then download yet another browser because firefox and safari and chrome? Not supported.

Formulas = not memorized.

Facts = eluding my brain.

Practice tests = ha.

Time = run out.

Me = ended.

For the next two weeks I will be waking up at 6am, studying, dying inside, studying some more, and then sleeping. I would literally kill for anything resembling a 30. MCAT gods, wherever you are, have mercy.

Los Angeles Car Hell

This summer has not been good for cars. My fiance's got rammed by a crazy lady trying to make a right turn into the side of his car from the middle lane. My tutor's got rammed by an emotionally unstable woman who had to be talked down by her therapist before she could hand over her insurance information. My friend's car got hit, repaired, hit again, and then impounded by the DMV because they had outdated records. My other friend's car was supposed to be shipped to him in AZ, but it's still sitting in CT and the shipping company hasn't even put it on the truck yet.

My poor car, my precious 2002 Jetta "Sydney", has now been hit. By a 6 inch metal disk. That fell off some P.O.S. sea foam green compact that drove away. This tiny little disk apparently managed to crack my transmission housing, causing me to leak fluid in the middle of the 10E in pre-rush hour traffic. There was nowhere to pull over and she seemed fine, until 3 blocks later my gas pedal stopped working. My transmission fluid was leaking = no more power to move. I turned on my hazards, hung out the window and literally coasted 3 lanes over to the shoulder. I just barely made it and I got incredibly lucky. The actual car not moving/coasting was not scary, but I felt a bubble of panic once I made it to the shoulder and thought about how expensive it would be to fix my precious car and contemplated how likely it would be that someone would hit my Sydney on the shoulder.

I pulled out my Crackberry, it hasn't worked quite right since it went through a few airport scanners in Europe but it served me well, and made some calls. I called 21st century, who promised me a tow truck in about an hour. I called my honey and convinced him that he wanted to come wait with me so I wouldn't have to sit in my hot car. Luckily, a friendly CHP officer pulled in behind me who commiserated with the suckiness of being stuck on a freeway, and called me a CHP tow truck that arrived just as my honey pulled up behind me. For 160 dollars, he towed me 10 minutes away in traffic to a very reputable body shop that made me feel comfortable and okay about my car repair. I thought everything would be okay.

Once I got back home, I called up my friendly 21st Century claims department and because of the one sentence description she had of my car "damage to the under carriage in the transmission area with a fluid leak", she said that Sydney was 1 point over their damage point system and they would try to total my car. This makes no sense. Syd only just hit 50,000 miles, her biggest accident was having her bumper bumped by a drunk neighbor, and there's no other substantial damage on her other than this hairline crack and dent in the transmission housing. Even if I needed my entire transmission replaced, a used tranny is what, 1-2k? Dealers are still selling my Syd with more miles than she has for 13k. I won't let them total her. They want to take her to some storage facility while they contemplate her fate.

I'm going to call my official claims person tomorrow and see if I can convince them to just fix her. I started saving for this car at 12 and I can't let her go.

EDIT 8/11/10: After finally talking to some people actually familiar with cars, my Sydney is officially on the mend. She's going to need a bit of work - new front bumper bottom, new transmission (the new housing was 6 grand but an entire used one was 1.5 grand, so we're going with the entire used one) and a few new power steering lines. I should have her back by Wednesday and since things falling off cars falls into the "Acts of God" category, I only have to pay my $250 deductible. Phew.

EDIT 8/21/10: So it turns out my Sydney is not on the mend. In fact, they ordered the wrong transmission and cannot find the correct one used. This means that not only have I been without a car for 11 days while she sat at the mechanic untouched, but they might be possibly trying to total her again. The insurance adjuster hasn't called me back so at the present moment I have no idea what's going on with my car.

EDIT 8/26/10: The insurance people have pulled their heads out of their asses long enough to order Sydney a new transmission. They still won't give me a rental car. I really really hope this is the last update before I get my car back.

EDIT 9/2/10: The new tranny is in! But the punctured power steering line is not -_- I'm hoping for next week...

Spotlight On: No Poo And The Most Awesomest Lavender Stuff EVER

Although you may be blessed with happy, vibrant and easy to care for skin, I was cursed with what must be the most sensitive skin in existence. I'm allergic to everything on my face, including water in too large a dose, and have yet to find a single make up product that doesn't result in Dalmatian style hives. To go with my hate everything skin, I have painfully thin practically nonexistent hair. This combination, while a pain in the ass, hasn't been too much of a problem until now. Weddings require not only a large amount of make up, but also elaborate hair do's, most of which call for more hair than I've got.

To combat this, I've been trying to go "No Poo", that is to say, stop using shampoo and conditioner. While this might sound uber gross to most people, the oil in your hair is made on a supply and demand basis. Stop stripping it out with harsh chemicals and your glands will stop making so much of it. My hair is actually fairly dry/normal, so I barely noticed any excess oil when I stopped using shampoo but I did have an issue with it being too dry. For most people going No Poo, their hair experiences a weird transitioning period where it hasn't realized you're not stripping oil out anymore and it can get a little funky and gross. The best way to combat this is to wash your hair with baking soda, 1-2 tbsp mixed into about 16oz of hot water will make an excellent shampoo that can be poured on, massaged in and rinsed out. Your hair will feel clean and smooth but can be a little dry. The best way to fix this is to condition with apple cider vinegar (It's not as weird as it sounds, I promise) that you can mix with honey, lemon and essential oils. Although vinegar smells pretty nasty, the apple cider variety washes out completely and you're left with the smell of whatever you added in, the honey/lemon/etc. You use 1 tbsp in 1 cup of water, and can scale up as needed.

While this worked great for me, my greaseball honey absolutely refused to stop using shampoo. His lovely golden locks make so much oil, that if he showers early in the morning he's usually pretty gross by the end of the day. This brings me to a happy discovery I made back in 2007, organic lavender products free from any chemicals. In Seattle, in the famous Pike's Place Market, is a tiny little kiosk straight past and behind the fish tossing stall. There they sell absolutely delicious lavender products with citrus and spearmint, and a couple times a year when we make the drive up to Seattle to visit our best friend, we always stop there for me to restock. My favorite products are their lip balm, and more recently their shampoo and body wash. My honey loves the lavender shampoo I bought and the tingly lavender mint body wash is absolutely delicious.

Luscious Lavender Lip Balm

Invigorating Body Wash and Shampoo

For those that don't live in Seattle, some of their products are available online at www.thewearygardener.com and www.sequimlavenderfarms.com. The lavender citrus lotion from Sequim Farms and lavender lemon cream from Weary Gardener are also divine, and the culinary lavender is fantastic.

Another absolute staple in our house is basic Dr. Bronner's Castile soap. We buy their classic peppermint or lavender liquid soap by the gallon and use it to wash faces, bodies, clothing, hair and as a cleaning product. My honey uses it for his acne face wash and it controls his acne just as well as those products with salicylic acid. I use it as my everyday body wash, bra wash if I can't lay my hands on the bra wash, laundry soap, toothpaste, and face wash after working out. You can even use it in the garden for pests, washing dishes, and washing the dog. It's really excellent, all natural, and comes in a variety of other scents including a fragrance free baby variety for sensitive skin. I think once we finish this gallon of peppermint that we'll be giving their citrus a try.

You can find it here http://www.drbronner.com/, at your local Trader Joes or more recently, at select Targets. I would Highly recommend everyone give Dr. Bronner's a try.

Victory for CA!

Prop 8, the unconstitutional ban on same sex marriage has FINALLY been overturned by Chief U.S. District Judge Vaughn Walker! I know this attack on equality will most likely go to the Supreme Court, but this is a fantastic first step in the right direction. We can do it! No matter how long it takes, Gay and Lesbian Americans will be granted equal rights. To all my gay and lesbian friends and family, congratulations on California finally recognizing what we have known all along.

YAY Equality! Go California! I've never been more proud of my home state!

What's In A Name?

I am really really conflicted about this whole taking your husband's name business. Do I take his? Does he take mine? Do I hyphenate? Add on? Do we both hyphenate or add on? A lot of people feel very strongly about what I see as a fairly personal decision. Strangely enough, I don't want my last name carried on. My father, or sperm donor, is an nut job who plays absolutely no role in my life. My brother has only daughters, so in theory the name should die out. However, for some reason changing my name just doesn't sit right with me. When my parents got divorced, I gave serious thought to changing my name to my mothers maiden name. I had no ties to my father's name and would be happy to join my mothers family. But doing so would make things very tricky. I was applying to high school, then applying to college, and changing my name would have caused major issues with transcripts and documents. In the end, it was just too much work and my name stayed the same.

Now, as I'm applying to medical school, I feel like I'm confronted with the same issue. My maiden name is on all my transcripts, and believe me there's a lot of them. Since I'm getting married before grad school, does that mean my honey's name would be on my medical degree? That sits a little weird with me, I feel like the degree I've worked my whole life towards should have my name on it, while at the same time not wanting my name at all. And what if something happens? If my medical degree says Dr. MyNameHisName, what would it be like to practice as Dr. MyName if we ever broke up? I feel like after 8 years I should have a pretty good handle on being called Mrs. HisName or Dr. HisName but it just doesn't feel like me. I love my honey and I want to be a unified family "The X's" (Maybe I should have picked better letters...), but I just don't want to give up my name.

And what about children? They'd be our children, so shouldn't they share "our" name, not just his or mine? I definitely want to have the same name as my children, but I know my honey absolutely does not want them hyphenated. Although our name hyphenates perfectly, mine is a medium length and his is short, ******-****, I wouldn't want to saddle my kids with a long collection of names. What if they want to hyphenate when they get married? I wouldn't want them to be Name X-Y-A. Or even worse, if they married someone with a hyphenated name Child X-Y-A-B. Can you imagine what they would name their kids?

And really, how archaic can we be? I am not a piece of property passing from one household to another. He should not ask me to do something he's not willing to do himself. So do we both hyphenate? Does anyone really use the hyphenated names or does the first one get left off? Should I have him start calling me Mrs. HisName to see if it's just something I have to get used to? I definitely don't want him to take my last name exclusively, but maybe he could add it as a second middle name? Maybe we both could? He would like me to take his name, but I don't think he feels particularly strongly about it.

I just don't know. For me, this is a conundrum.

BBB: My Big Bad Boobs

This is the inevitable post where I talk about how I have giant boobs, and how that is NOT something you want to be envious of. Somehow, something happened when I hit 12 (logical people would call this puberty but I would call it nature hating me) that told my previously unisex child's body to sprout hips and the aforementioned boobs. I was perhaps the one preteen girl in existence that did not want boobs and would have been happy to move through life with B cups, max. Instead, by the end of the summer, my flat chest was hovering somewhere between DD and DDD. They were growing so quickly and I was in such denial, that I bought a stretchy B cup bra and squeezed those puppies in, convincing myself that I couldn't be bigger than a B cup. How could I be when all my friends were boys, flat chested, or tiny A cups?

Eventually, I had to start buying bigger bras. When the spandex could stretch no further and the boobs of doom seemed determined to continue growing I gave in and went shopping at the only place that stocked my size, Ms. Stevens. For the small breasted who have never had the unique pleasure of being inside a shop like this, it is a granny brazier store run by tiny elderly European women who lift and heft your breasts in addition to measuring them to determine their size. I left the store not only with several $60 dollar a piece granny bras, but also with some serious emotional scars. By 13, I hated my breasts, the ugly bras they necessitated and the unwanted male attention they earned. I wanted them gone, and as soon as I was old enough, 16, I went in for a reduction consultation.

One mammogram and breast weigh in later, it was determined that my unlucky girls were almost entirely gland. This meant a full reduction, no easy liposuction, a lot of scars, and the ultimate nail in the coffin, no breast feeding. While I could handle the major surgery, deal with the recovery, accept the hideously scary scars, I could absolutely not give up breast feeding. Even at 16, I knew I wanted babies and knew that more than anything I wanted to be able to breast feed. This was difficult to explain to my mom, but the decision was made and the reduction was put on hold. The back pain, the scoliosis, the rashes, welts, and bruises from bras, the inability to run 10 feet without whiplash would not be going away. The boobs of doom would be staying until after I've had my babies, come hell or high water I would be breast feeding.

Now, at 23, they seem to have settled into a 34-36 G cup. I still can't go shopping at normal stores, but I've found a store called The Wizard of Bras (side note: How cool is that? the wizard of bras? I'd go even if I had tiny boobies) that stocks decent bras and have even found an only slightly unattractive bathing suit with an actual bra built in. No matter what size I am, an eight at my rib showing skinniest or a twelve at my love handle fattest, the boobs of doom don't change so my shirt size is consistently a large or extra large. This can be disheartening when trying to lose weight, but I've managed to work around it. Until now.

I knew from distant observation that wedding dress sizing was funny. I'm sure you've heard of that size zero bride ordering a size 4 or 6, and of the normally size 8 person ordering a size 16. What I didn't know, was that all wedding dresses come with a standard B cup. A B CUP. Askijbddshbfhdbfjhdfvd. Really bridal industry? REALLY? You think that all women who want to get married in a white dress have a B cup, or a size that can be sister sized into a B cup? What planet do you people live on???? This means that every time I go dress shopping it goes something like this:

Me: Hello. I'm here to try on bridal gowns. Do you have any in my size?

Salesperson: Hi! Oh of course we do! Come right this way! Why don't you try on this size 12?

Me: Okay.....*squish, squash, rip* this dress doesn't seem to fit my chest.....

My Mother: *In the background* I hate weddings, why are you getting married, go study for your MCAT, why are you so fat, don't talk to me, have I mentioned I hate weddings?

Salesperson: Hmm, lets measure you to see *whips out dreaded tape measurer*

.....................................................Silence...................................................................

Salesperson: ...hmmm...yes...ah a 42 inch bust? yes, well....I believe that's about a size 24....

Me: WHAT? a 24??? I wear a size 10!! Aaswdhshdfkrfhuj I swear I'm not that fat!

Salesperson: Yes, well your waist and hips are size 10-12, your bust is a size 24 so we'd need to order the gown large and alter it down twelve sizes....

Me: Twelve sizes?? Can you even do that???

Salesperson: Well no, not really. I mean we could, but we'd have to take the dress apart and the alternations would be about $600 at minimum

Me: ..............................................Silence...............................................................

Right about here is where I should mention that my wedding dress is a gift from my auntie, and I just can't justify buying an expensive dress and then essentially doubling the cost through alterations. It appears that the only way around this is to have a custom gown made, and while that's lovely (although still more expensive than I'd like) it's just another reminder of how out of place my girls are in this world.

In the end, I'm sure the dress will turn out lovely. The women making it has DDDs herself, and has promised me that with the built in corset I won't have to wear a bra or corset. This is especially good, because the corset I wore to my friend's wedding gave me two sets of breasts, a top set and bottom set, in addition to numerous bruises and welts. But really, are there no other large busted girls out there? How do you shop for clothing? More importantly, where did you buy your wedding dress?