Grape Juice is Great Juice - I've been saying this all along! Grape juice is the best juice in the world, but cranberry is a close second. Apple juice is just gross, but cider is good. The article is actually about antioxidants, though. Quoth British researcher Alan Crozier, "Purple grape juice made with Concord grapes contains the highest and broadest range of ployphenols as well as having the highest antioxidant capacity. Other high-ranking produces include cloudy apple juice and cranberry juice drink."

Ballmer says Google is insane - So is that what he calls his reflection? I've always just addressed myself as "self." I'd say something like "It'll be smooth sailing from here, Self." Ballmer, scary-looking CEO of Microsoft and really crazy dude, is all up in arms over Google (again) over their development plans for the new Docs & Spreadsheets product, among other things. That man is going to have a heart attack, mark my words.

The Problem, in A Fundamental Nutshell: 'Is Your Baby Gay?' - I tried to think of something for this one, but Southern Baptists just aren't funny. Mohler, "one of the leading voices of the... Southern Baptist Convention," asked on his blog what Christians would do if there was testing available to detect imminent homosexuality in fetuses and a hormone patch that could prevent it. It's sort of an interesting question, after you get past the disgusting bigotry of the way it's asked.

By the by, the new dog is named Abigail, and she was spayed on Friday. I haven't gotten any pictures because the light has sucked for the past couple of days.

For a week in the middle of December, Steven and I were on vacation in the Dominican Republic in a town called Sosua. We stayed at the Tropix Hotel and dove with Northern Coast Diving. We didn't really have internet access, so posting regular updates really wasn't an option. I wrote at the end of the day as if I would be posting that day. Then I got home, visited a lot of people, slept, and eventually forgot that I had written this. Each day is on it's own page, so read on. You should also take a peek at the pictures.

17 December, 21:26 local

Today was our first full day in the DR. We arrived yesterday in the morning, but after the overnight flight and travel we were pretty exhausted and spent a good chunk of time sleeping. My first impression of the town made me a bit uneasy, and to a certain degree I still am. It's strange being in a place where you don't speak the language or know the customs. It's comparable to being in a strange part of New York City, except there you could always walk to someplace more familiar. Here, come hell or high water, I'm stuck until Sunday.

That said, paying attention and keeping our wits about us (along with a rudimentary understanding of Spanish) has somewhat alleviated the need to feel fearful about our safety. There are unsavory types and those who prey on tourists, but they are the same as anywhere you go. We have also met some neat people, none of Dominican origin though. Deann (the proprietress of our hotel) told us that real Dominicans are really caring and open people, which I believe. Unfortunately, she added, a lot of those in Sosua aren't real Dominicans.

We've had an interesting variety of food over the past day and a half. The first place we ate was French, followed by American, British, Dominican, and American again. The American place was called Rocky's and has the best ribs I have ever eaten. I picked one up and tried to eat it, and the meat literally feel off the bone. Normally we wouldn't allow ourselves to eat at the same place more than once while vacationing, especially American fare, but it was that good.

Steve's first two check-out dives for his SCUBA certification were today. I walked him down to the shop and checked things out. By all accounts diving in Sosua should be done with Northern Coast. The diving staff are from various European countries. I'm surprised to see the number of businesses that are owned by non-Dominicans. I'll withhold judgment until I dive with them on Tuesday, but Steven appears to be satisfied. They are organized and professional, without being uptight.

While Steve is training I am reading poolside at the hotel. Hopefully by the time I come back I will be less ghostly pale. I certainly won't have been overly enriched by reading Heinlein, but it keeps me from being bored since I don't have any internet connection. I am not looking forward to catching up on blogs.

So I was home all last week for Thanksgiving. We did the whole dinner thing on Thursday with Mom's big family. There were two pork shoulders weighing in somewhere around 25 lbs, a deep fried turkey and a traditionally cooked turkey, wet and dry stuffing, pineapple mold, mashed potatoes, sweet potato with marshmallows, carrot casserole, broccoli casserole, and more arroz con gandules (orange rice with green pidgeon peas) than you could shake a stick at. I didn't really have any turkey. The pork roasts were so phenomenal that to eat any other meat would take away.

I felt reasonably miserable for a good portion of break. I think I'm allergic to my house. My sinuses got all plugged up, then that dripped down the back of my throat and into my lungs. The result was a painful wheezing cough and quite a bit of difficulty falling asleep. I'm still having some of the lung issues. That will take a couple of days to clear.

Holiday traffic was hellish. The vast majority of my ten hour trip is spent on I-81, from Binghamton, NY to Christiansburg, VA. All the way through PA and the brief corners of MD and WV were congested, but there weren't too many slowdowns. I hit a couple of spots in VA near I-66 and I-64 where traffic was crawling. They cleared up as soon as I passed the exits. Then near Roanoke, for no discernible reason, I was at a dead stop on the interstate for 45 minutes. When that happens at the beginning of a trip, it's frustrating. When that happens in the eleventh hour of a ten hour trip, one begins inventing new profanities.

I'm home now, though, and my roommate erected a holiday tree, and Sebastian is still adorable, and the water damage in my wall is finally corrected, and I'm going to eat a bowl of cereal and ponder navel lint.

I'll be enjoying Thanksgiving, as I usually do, with my extended family on my mother's side. Steve will be joining me in a couple of days. I really love the closeness of our family, I think it has had a big impact on me. I sometimes forget that not everyone has this kind of relationship with their family. I really do feel badly for them, it's a wonderful thing to have. If you can't be with your family, give them a ring and say hello. Let them know you care.

Now that I've been all sentimental, I'll give you the haps. Days Inn apparently has free wireless internet for guests, so if you're ever in a pinch for internet access, you can always park in their lot. I drove ten hours home from Blacksburg, with only a quick stop in Lebanon, PA for gas, Wendy's and email. Just the essentials, folks.

I'll be heading home on Saturday, giving me time to situate myself at home before class gets started on Monday. Painters are supposed to be in this week to paint one wall of my room which is suffering from water damage from the apartment above. Because of this, my furniture is all moved away from that wall and I'm entirely disorganized. I was getting sick of looking at the water spot on my wall, though.

I also found an mp3 of Killer Tofu by The Beets. For the uninitiated, The Beets are a fictional cartoon band from the Nickelodeon, and later Disney, show Doug.

Steve came over this weekend to visit me in Virginia! It made me very happy. I have today off (Yay Columbus Day!) so we decided this would be a good weekend for a visit. This way I can still get my weekend things done today, and not have to worry about them while he is around. He had to leave at 1am so he could get home, take a nap, and go to class this evening, but that was his decision and I love him for it.

Mostly we ate on campus. I am often surprised by the quality of dining services here. On Friday night I had New York strip steak, and Steve had lobster. Lobster. On campus. Have I mentioned that dining services here is pretty much incredible? Now I don't often have lobster, but according to my roommate it was good lobster.

On Saturday night, I found myself with Steven's heel pressed against the underside of my chin (we were both lying down) and he said to me "Don't be subservient!" Oh, well yes sir! Sir, I promise not to be subservient sir! Is that irony enough for you, sir?

Also, he said something funny Saturday night just before we went to sleep, but I can't recall what it is. I was going to get up and write it down, but he said "Oh, you'll remember it." I replied "I'll remember that I wanted to remember something, but I won't remember what it is." I should have put money on it.

I spent the summer with Steve in Bloomington. On Monday he'll take his first class towards a PhD in folklore at Indiana University. While I was there, I interned with a vet clinic in a neighboring town, and at a wildlife rehabilitation clinic called WildCare Inc. Steve meanwhile worked with wonderful people doing the terrible job of telemarketing. Please remember that if a telemarketer calls you on behalf of a large company, you consented to being called and gave them the appropriate information to do so. You may not remember it, but it's illegal for them to call you if you didn't agree, and they probably have the documentation. File suit if you like, but don't kill the messenger.

I worked four days a week at the vet clinic, doing just about anything they'd let me. I did a lot of drawing up vaccines and holding animals for blood draws. I picked up a lot of poop. It was really a great experience. I loved the staff, and I learned so much. Anyone who is considering vet school should do at least a little bit of work in a clinic. It doesn't make any sense not to!

WildCare was an adventure. Almost every day when I left I was exhausted. I worked with a wide variety of naitive Indiana wildlife, including raccoons, oppossums, rabbits, squirrels, deer, and a variety of birds. I was even bitten by a racoon! Luckily it wasn't rabid. The experience didn't inspire me to go into wildlife medicine, but it didn't scare me away either. I think it's a great organization and I'll help out again if I have a chance.

Other than working, Steve and i played a lot of Guild Wars. We like it because you don't have to pay a subscription fee. We also watched Charmed and Naruto in unhealthy quantities (which raises the question of whether there is a healthy quantity of Charmed.) Now that I'm back to school I'll hopefully be more regular in my updates. No promises though.

Steve had a floor program on April Fools' Day to the New York Aquarium. As usual, he had extra spots and I tagged along. We walked around and looked at all the cool fishes (yes, that is the correct word) and sea mammals. The curved tank walls made me dizzy when I looked through. Makes me wonder how the fish feel about the situation.

I took a few pictures, mostly of an otter bathing itself. There was also Oopa, the fat slut walrus. She laid on a rock for the entire time we were there, flashing her cooter at us. A mere adolescent, she weighs in at over 1300 lbs. The only thing that motivated her to get off her rock was food. I don't mind that she's fat, that's what walruses do. The least she could do is close her legs or something.

Steve was accepted to and will be attending Indiana University in the fall, pursuing a Ph.D. in folklore. I'm so proud of him. It's going to be a challenge, being apart so much. These past two years have spoiled us, being together nearly every weekend and over every break. Before that though, we weren't together very much at all. It'll be hard, but I'm sure we can do it.

We danced tonight. It was only a little, with no music, but it meant a lot. He has a thing, he doesn't like to dance with me. It was just so unexpected and sweet. That's how I know we can make it.

Friday afternoon I had to catch my bus to NYC. I always drive about 80 on I-88. Always. However, this particular Friday, because I was late, I got pulled over and got a speeding ticket. I don't know what it is. I have never gotten off with a warning in my life. Cops must hate me.

Once I got to New York it was nice. Steve and I did the usual thing during the weekend, which involves a whole lot of cuddling and not a whole lot else. We played a bit of Guild Wars, and talked about how we should probably be doing work. It was a good weekend.

Tuesday, Steve decided it would be cool to drag me along to class with him. It was! We went to Human Evolution, where the professor was talking about genetic drift and Hardy-Weinberg Equilibrium, which are familiar to me from my genetics class last year. I felt smart at an NYU class. Wow! Of course this was an intro-level course, but still, I'm allowed to feel a little bit special.

Thursday Steve and I tried for rush tickets for Wicked, but we didn't get them. That kinda sucks, but I had a good time going up there with him and harassing him while we waited for the drawing. We're going to try again for tickets, but weekends aren't the likeliest time to get tickets.

On Friday night, one of Steve's friends from high school came into the city with a classmate. Sarah stayed with Steve and I, and her friend stayed with another girl in Williamsburg. People who live in Williamsburg are hipsters. I hate hipsters. Steve and Sarah also hate hipsters. There was much making of fun and the like. We ate at Ferrara and it made me feel better about the world. A good slice New York cheescake will do that for you.

I did not do any work over spring break whatsoever. That has made my past week a little hellish. That is why I haven't written about it until now. If I could, would I go back and do some homework over break? Nope.

So I was sitting on the A train headed up to 42^nd, and we happened to leave at about the same time as the C. As we travelled through the tunnel, we slowly passed the C. It was rather intriguing to watch. It was like five second silent films of the other cars, with frames punctuated by the dark flashes of support beams. One movie was about a woman yelling at her daughter for stealing a pack of gum from the store. Another was a young couple discussing their plans for later that night. A man stood deep in thought about his wife, his affair at work, his kids. The most intriguing film was one where a man in his mid twenties watched me. Do people really do that? Do they sit on the subway and look into other people's cars, watching them, observing them, judging them while they sit innocently and watch movies?

This past summer I volunteered at a shelter near where I live. The staff was great, the animals were (mostly) adorable, and the whole experience was generally pleasant. Every couple of days or so, Steve and I would go there and scoop some poop, fill some dishes, and play with some animals. As the summer wore down, a conversation transpired that went something like this:

Shelter manager

So where are you off to when you leave here?

Steve

I'm going back to New York City. I go to NYU

Me

I'll be headed to Cobleskill for another year, but I'll be in the city on weekends

Shelter manager

Oh? That's very interesting. Do you come home often?

Me

When our breaks match up I pick up Steve and we head home.

Shelter manager

How would you feel about bringing some dogs back with you from New York? It's so hard there, there's so little space that they euthanize hundreds of animals every day. *puppy eyes*

Me

Well... I don't usually drive down there—

Shelter manager

If you'd be willing, we could take care of gas and whatever else you'd need

Me

Sure, I guess so. I'll get in touch before my first break

This past weekend was my first break, a four day weekend for Columbus Day. Steve didn't really get any extra time off, but since he has four day weekends anyways we decided to come home. We got in touch with the shelter manager, who put us in touch with a shelter manager in the city, and we were on our way. I left Friday after work, caught the thruway, and the journey began.

Driving into New York was not as difficult as I expected it to be. It's just like driving on a five-lane one-way highway with stoplights.

Everyone involved in the transaction was very friendly, almost overly so. It was as if they thought we'd spook at sudden movements. In the city, the woman gave us a brief rundown of the dogs we were transporting. One was a 15 year old blind toothless Pekingese. Somehow I didn't find him terribly threatening. The second dog was a 13 year old white miniature Poodle, Doodle. The very concept of "Doodle the Poodle" made my brain hurt, but he was very good natured (and shortsighted) so I was able to cope. The third dog was a 3 year old Lhasa Apso with a biting problem. I think he was too terrified of the whole situation to bother, because he didn't even look at me funny. The woman at the shelter took care of everything for us, gave a few cautionary words, and we were on our way.

Driving through New York was obviously pretty upsetting to the dogs. Doodle and the Lhasa Apso would not be quiet. The Pekingese was thouroughly unconscious for the entire process. I can't imagine that the stop-and-go traffic was too pleasant in the back of the car in crates. I thought to myself "Self, It's ok. As soon as we're out of the city, we'll be cruising and they'll be fine." Boy did I ever have me fooled

If possible, you should never drive out of New York on a Friday at evening rush hour. The traffic is absolutely nuts. As soon as you think it's safe to cruise, some jackass thinks it's time to change lanes and slow down in front of you. In terms of highway driving, it varies between slow and crawling. All this, of course, doesn't improve the mood of the animals in the rear of my car.

Once we hit PA it was much smoother. There was a cold gloomy misty rain all the way, and it was pretty dark, but at least the traffic thinned. "It'll be smooth sailing from here, Self" I said. I am such a liar

Just across the NY-PA border (re-entering NY), disaster struck. Fortunately it missed me and hit somebody else. Unfortunately, their misfortune had me stopped in traffic for an hour while police and EMTs cleaned up.

So, after a total of 12 hours on the road for me, we arrived at the shelter. Somehow the shelter manager was still as perky at midnight as she ever was at 8 in the morning. That woman must put away more coffee than I can even think about.

When we got to the shelter and got the dogs settled, there was a surprise. Eight two-week-old puppies and their mother had recently arrived at the shelter. As things worked out, there was a little warm feeling at the end of the day anyways.

On Friday last I had the misfortune to suffer a sponatneous muscle strain in my upper right thigh. By spontaneous, I mean it came right the fuck out of nowhere. I was walking to Prentice with Bubbey and Amby when my leg started feeling stiff. I figured I'd just walk it off, no big deal. Well, when I tried to walk it off there was a little bit of pain. Then there was a lot of pain. Next was me hopping on one foot trying to get to my damn food. No luck, as before I ever reached the stairs I gave up, and decided to go to the Wellness Center. I sent Amber ahead to get me some crutches. That was a mistake.

Amber came back in about 5 minutes with the news that they sent SMRT. Yes, the fact that they misspelled smart is a bad sign. It was decided that I needed to ride in an ambulance to the emergency room. Brilliant. Lights, sirens, oxygen, stretcher, the works. When I got there they wheeled me in, the whole "1, 2, 3, lift" thing you see when they move people from stretcher to bed, and then not too much for a while. I tried to explain what happened to a number of nurses, but none of them had anything useful to offer.

Probably the most useful part of my visit was that I got a couple x-rays done on my hip to make sure there wasn't bone or joint damage. It was probably one of the more painful parts of the visit too, because I had to bend my hip to angles that are barely comfortable when I'm healthy. Better to have them done than not though.

After my x-rays were done, Bubbey and Amber came in to see me. Apparently they had been waiting there since I arrived. Had I known, I would have had them brought in earlier! We sat around for an hour and made jokes about stiff legs, and fun was had by all. Eventually they had to leave, because apparently someone had to go get Steve, and it wasn't going to be me.

After some hours of lying in the ER, a doctor finally decides to grace me with his presence. He sat around for half of an explaination, and ran off again. 45 minutes later he returns, tells me that he has no idea why this would happen, and proceeds to tell me to do exactly what I had intended to do initially: use crutches, don't put weight on the leg, and take ibuprofen regularly. If they had just given Amber a pair of crutches to bring to me, I would've saved everyone a lot of trouble.

All weekend long Steve was a total dear to me. I was definitely not as nice to him as I should've been. I can say that I was grouchy because of my injury, but that doesn't fully account for it. He was nothing but helpful to me. I love my Steve so much, he's so brave and strong. He stood up to face a terribly fire-breathing me and survived. My Steve is the greatest.

Oh, and puppies.

The process involves going through the interview/workshops in groups. Somehow my group ended up with 18 people. Everyone is surprised when we show up, but I think we have a really great dynamic. Most of us met for the first time this weekend, and we are all pretty close. During our first workshop the entire group was in a very tight huddle with me on top, trying to fit 18 people into a 1.5 foot square, with no support outside of it. I think this interview weekend is going a lot better than last semester's. Hopefully the outcome will be better too.

On Friday night, after much undue trouble with transportation, I arrived in the city, promptly to be whisked off to the financial district with no explaination whatsoever. Steve was entirely bubbly, but he wouldn't tell me anything. We ended up taking the PATH to Hoboken, for pizza. This wasn't just pizza, though. This was a foot of the most perfectly baked pizza ever. If you're ever in Hoboken and get the chance, pick up a slice from Benny Tudino's. After pizza we stopped at Panera. It was pretty good, but would've been better fresh. I suppose that's what you get for going just before closing. Next we went out on the pier and talked and looked at the Manhattan skyline. I spend so much time there, but I really don't get to appreciate how pretty it is from a distance.

On Saturday we went to Central Park to see The Gates. It was opening day, so the place was packed. I don't believe I've ever seen Central Park so full before. It's not as though the place is ever empty, but this was simply ridiculous. I will say that it was absolutely beautiful. I took the opportunity to take obscene amounts of photos, but only a few got posted.

Sunday was the not-too-much day. We did a lot of napping and cuddling. It gave me happies. This was like our valentines day. [insert long mushy section here about how great Steve is.]

I updated the pictures section with the pictures I took. Mom just arrived. Time to get started on the next Weekend Report.

The only non-standard event this weekend was a visit to a little french establishment called Florent with some friends and former roommates. Incidentally, it is named after the owner. This was one of the first places Steve ever took me to dinner in the city, partially hoping that we would run into Maggie Gyllenhaal. Actually though, the food there is quite remarkable. Steve ordered stuffed chicken and I had a pasta dish with tuna. I could've eaten both of them and then some, but he wouldn't let me. Evidently he ordered it because he wanted to eat it. Imagnie that! After dinner I grabbed a couple of matchbooks. I love the matchbooks there. If you ever want to send me a matchbook or postcard from Florent, please let me know and I'll give you my address.