Climbing rocks.

I went to the climbing gym in Blue Springs with a friend* yesterday. It. Was. Fabulous.

I had several dreams last night wherein I was successfully scaling huge cliffs. (Symbolic much?)

I kept waking up because in my dreams, my arms were sore. Upon waking, I had my arms raised above my head, hands poised in climbing position... This happened more than once. Feel free to chuckle.

*Brent - I am officially inviting you to step out of lurker-dom. Please feel free to comment. Even if it involves a climbing pun. Especially if it involves a climbing pun.

She will be right back with your dressing, and an education on point-of-view.

Hello, my name is Erin, and I'll be taking care of you today. Have you been in a restaurant before? No? OK.

Before I start working on your requests, I'd like to share one of my own. It's just a small one. For the good of humanity, or at least those of us who are working as waitstaff, I would like to ask that should you find yourself in a restaurant, burning with an overwhelming desire to refer to your server in third person, you kindly refrain.

Two things happen when your server is forced to listen to things like, "See if she will get you another Coke," or "She needs to bring us more ranch dressing," for the duration of the meal. One, it makes your server feel like (s)he should be wearing a tutu and performing some sort of show, to be rewarded by tasty morsels (perhaps peanuts?) tossed by the audience. (I would imagine this is akin to what it feels like to be the proverbial circus bear.) Two, it makes him/her a lot less inspired to bring you Coke and/or ranch dressing quite as quickly as (s)he normally would.

Thank you, and I hope you enjoy your meal.

Collective Chorus of "Aww!"

The Cutest Little Boy In the World sat at my table tonight. His name was Marco. He was roughly 2. He had huge brown eyes, equally huge chubby cheeks, a button nose, and perfect manners.

Before he left, he said thank you, and bye-bye, and proceeded to give me a hug and a kiss. There was a collective chorus of "Aww!" from the tables sitting nearby. It. Was. Adorable.

If my children are not that cute and well-behaved, I shall sell them on e-Bay.*

*If, through some miracle of technology, this blog post is still here 15 years from now, and is being read by my as-yet non-existent children - you don't need to worry. Mommy isn't going to sell you on e-Bay. Unless you're really, really bad.

Sugar-free me

Just in case I wasn't motivated by Julie Walker's threats of imminent death (or at least an ambulance ride) if I consume sugar, here's one more reason to skip it: a nasty little process known as glycation.

During glycation, sugar in your bloodstream attaches to protein to form advanced glycation end products (AGEs, har har). AGEs damage collagen and elastin in skin, collagen goes from elastic and springy to dry and brittle, and just like that, your skin looks like that t-shirt you've had stuffed under the front seat of your car all summer.

Our lesson today? No sugar = an ambulance-free, wrinkle-free life. And who doesn't want that?

Former copywriter still excited by good ads!

Yes, that's lettuce. Growing on a billboard. It's in Chicago at the intersection of Addison and Clark. Leo Burnett is responsible. I'm...well, lovin' it.

The most recent Sony Bravia ad is out. I personally don't think it's as good as either Paint or Balls, or even Pyramid, but it does involve a whole lotta PlayDoh (plasticine, if you're picky), which is always fun. (But can you imagine what it smelled like?) If you like it, you can thank Fallon. Or you can thank kozyndan - rumor is the ad is based on this still.

Things to Figure Out Before Nursing School, Part I

Turns out Mr. Marmalade is actually Mrs. Marmalade. My mistake! (To my credit, we've only been looking at muscles up to this point. There's not a lot of gender-based anatomical variation to be ascertained from muscle observation on a skinned cat.)

And in totally random news, I have an addition to the list of blogs I frequent.

This week is...

Insane! I have roughly a million and four things to do - but on the positive side, I like lists, and crossing things off of them, so it's good that life is ridiculously busy, right? Right?? Here's a taste of what I'm up to. (Feel free to send encouragement, and treats.)

*Nursing school enrollment/orientation. I already know that my first two semesters will be pathophysiology, two theology classes, a philosophy class, and a psychology class. This means I'll be a spiritual hypochondriac who's prone to overanalysis. I can't wait for orientation because...I want to find out what PDA is recommended for drug books (yes, this excites me - they're all electronic! No lugging 40 pounds of books around the hospital!) AND I'm excited to meet the people I'll be spending 10 hours a day with for the next year and a half. (I hope they're not morning people. If they are, I hope they don't mind that I may not be perky for 5:30 a.m. clinicals.)

*I have a gigantic microbiology test next week. My professor gave us the following example and told us that something similar would be on the test: "Given a strand of DNA from a hepatitis virus, detail the steps you would take to create a vaccine. Hint: there are 7 steps." That is not my idea of a hint. Eek.

* I'm starting orientation/training at my new, shiny job. Think black pants! Think higher ticket prices! Think shirts with the name of the restaurant bedazzled in red rhinestones! (I'm not joking. But the food IS more expensive, and the place is not kid-friendly (read: no chicken strips), so I'm willing to forgive them for making us wear shirts that sparkle. In their defense, the bedazzling is tasteful...er...wait a second...)

I Like...

My regulars. They're a man and his sons (Joe, Aaron, and Jason!) who always come in to Cheese on the first Sunday of the month. We get along well, and they are jolly, and they find me hilarious, and laughter, good times and breakfast are had by all. Well, laughter and good times are had by all. I'm not allowed to eat breakfast when I'm working.

This morning I wasn't scheduled until 11:30. My regulars come in at 10:45. Today, they came in at 10:45, as usual, and then proceeded to wait 45 minutes for me to get there, just to make sure that no one else but me brought them their eggs Benedict. I was touched. They're fantastic.