My Thoughtful Spot

fashion fridays: christmas tanks

This week has been an odd one weather-wise for us. Normal southern California winter weather is about mid 50s, especially in December. Which is perfect sweater-don't-really-need-a-jacket weather. Excellent timing for me to bring out my ONE Christmas sweater -- the one I only wear around the house and at mom's.

But I can't! Yesterday I was driving around and the car thermometer said 80. That's 80 degrees Fahrenheit. On December 17th. Clearly sweaters, Christmas or otherwise, are not in my future, at least until things cool off to the mid 60s sometime next week. But it's Christmas! What am I supposed to do about my festive attire?

Then I got to thinking... what do they do in the southern hemisphere? Christmas... tank tops?? That must be it. But I asked a bloggy friend who lives in New Zealand, and she said they don't really exist. (But that she'd love an American Christmas "jumper"!) Bummer. They'd be a big hit; maybe we should go into business together.

I did some searching on google and found that they already exist. (Guess I'll have to stick it out in the medical industry, such as it is.) Here are some cute ones I would totally wear.

How cute is that little chick?!?

I really love that Seinfeld episode. So I would love wearing this one.

I guess I qualify as a baby yogini now, so I could wear this one, too!

Tell me, truthfully... you want a cheesy Christmas sweater that lights up, don't you? Alright, maybe not that far. But anyone can wear Christmas socks! (I have at least a dozen pair!

our four seasons

The first day of autumn was yesterday and we entered into a heat wave thanks to the Santa Ana winds. We also officially entered "fire season." Here I am, missing cooler temperatures, the smell of a crisp autumn morning, and hopes of apple picking. All of these from my six years in New England, of course. If it weren't for me changing the scent of the Yankee Candles I burn, I wouldn't even know it were fall.

The large fire that was all over national news, known locally as the Station fire, is 94% contained. (We need to name the fires because there are so many going on at one time.) But a few days ago, a new, smaller fire popped up. Not from arson, like the Station fire, but from a spontaneously combusting pile of manure. Yes, you read that right. Spontaneously combusting cow shit. If fires weren't so destructive, it would be kind of funny. I don't know it's official name but... well, I'm sure you can guess what I think we should name it.

We don't really have an autumn or a winter and I don't mind skipping on winter so much. I like it cooler, definitely... 40s is good. But I'd rather not shovel snow and deal with ice on the sidewalks, ya know? If it rains here in the winter (and in the last several years, that's a BIG if), all the land that was fire scorched a few months prior turn into mudslides. So then the rain becomes both a blessing and a curse.

So I've come up with a revised list of seasons for Southern California, effective immediately.

Spring, Summer, Fire, Drought/Mudslide.

messages

Dear Random Asshole on my Cell,

Who the hell are you and why are you calling me? Oh, it's because someone dialed your number from my phone seven times and you want to find out who it is. Well, I'm not telling you my name, I don't care how belligerent you are. You called me. Why don't you tell me who you are and where you live?

Ever hear of someone misdialing? Yeah, it was that. Your number happens to be one number off from my work number. Get the f--k over it and stop calling me. Or, better yet, block my number. It may be hard for you to believe, but I don't want to talk to you.

Love,
Nichole

******************

Dear Bitch in the BMW 325i,

Before you even start on me, I know you're female and here's why: 1) the only people in a Nordstrom's parking lot at 2:00 on a Friday afternoon are female and 2) I saw some crap in your car.

No, I wasn't spying on you, but you parked so freaking close to the line in the already super-compact space, I couldn't help but notice. I'm sure you didn't realize how close you were, since it was on the right side of your car, but did you see the car that is on your left? Yeah, that's called a SmartCar. It's like the smallest car on the market. You could hug the left line of your space and still have enough room to open your door all the freaking way.

So, in the future, please be a little more considerate of the people with whom you share this world. It will come back to you, I promise.

Love,
Nichole

The format for this post was inspired by a post done a long time ago by Nilsa. I don't know which one and I don't feel like finding it, but she's awesome and you should read anything she has to write anyway.

gift from the universe

Traffic patterns around here are fairly predictable, as they are in most metropolitan areas. Miss your departure window by five minutes, and you can easily add 30 minutes to your commute.

They're predictable on the weekdays, that is. On weekends? All bets are off. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to it; I've tried to figure it out. That's what I do. I'm a figure-outer.

This lack of predictability can be an issue when I need to get to work for an operation. For a surgery to happen on a weekend, a series of events are set into motion, all starting with me. First, I talk to the charge nurse for the hospital. I tell her the name of the patient, the surgery we're going to do, and when I want to do it. Then she calls the operating room team, which consists of a recovery room nurse, a circulating nurse and a scrub tech. Then she calls the anesthesiologist to tell him/her when the surgery is.

I have an issue with being late. Chronic lateness implies that you think you and your time is more important than everyone else's. (Yes, I have many issues with the President's lateness. It's disrespectful.) But when I book a surgery on the weekend, I am positively neurotic about being late. These four other people have lots of other things they'd rather be doing than waiting for my ass to get to the OR.

Recently, I did have to do an operation on the weekend. I left my house with about 20 minutes to spare; a good practice on the weekend considering traffic. But this particular day, everyone was driving like idiots. Under the posted speed limit. Slow cars in the fast lane. Lots of cars out in general.

So in an attempt to not be late and show disrespect for my colleagues, I was kinda weaving in and out of traffic a bit. 100 yards from my exit, I get pulled over. I was stopped for three reasons: following too closely and two unsafe lane changes. Then I was asked if I had a reason for driving like that. I told him I was trying to get to the hospital because I needed to do a procedure. He asked me if I was a doctor (I was in scrubs). When I said yes, he asked to see my medical license. He scolded me a little, reminded me that I have likely seen the results of really bad accidents, and to be more careful.

And he let me go. That almost never happens out here, especially given how much money the state needs. I thanked him profusely.

Ever get out of a ticket? How'd ya do it?

swine flu

This whole panic about the swine flu has amused me to no end. Last weekend, the estimated deaths in Mexico was in the 80s; now it's like seven. I guess the oink is worse than the bite. People are restricting travel to Mexico, California, Texas, etc.; even the Vice-President (who is always good for a laugh) told people not to get on a plane.

Several leading virologists have stated that this strain of the flu is actually less severe than the flu viruses we are used to dealing with. And the fact that only one American has died from this is evidence that supports that. Upwards of 35,000 Americans die every year from flu and flu-related conditions is further evidence.

The recommendations to wash your hands, cover your mouth when you sneeze, and stay home if you feel sick are very logical and should be followed at all times; not just under threat of a pandemic. I wash my hands upwards of twenty times per day. No problems there. Cover my mouth when I sneeze? Ew, who doesn't? The velocity of the air coming out of your lungs when you sneeze can be up to 100mph! (Thanks to childhood magazine Ranger Rick for that factoid.) Don't go to work if you feel sick. Hm, that one's going to be tough. As a resident, we were at work all day, every day. If we were scheduled to show up, the only excuse you had to be absent were if you were actually admitted as a patient. Which meant you were there anyway. Now, I've got responsibilities. Patients coming in for me to check on their wounds, conditions, and to get operated on. I can't just not show up.

Hopefully I don't get swine... or any other kind of flu. What do doctors do when they get sick?? I haven't figured it out yet.

home for billy

Yesterday, the LA City Council voted 11-4 to approve construction of an elephant habitat for the LA Zoo's long-time resident, Billy. Preliminary reports indicated that the animal rights groups had gotten to the city council and they were not going to build and upgrade a habitat and ship Billy off to somewhere else where he could be "truly happy."

So last week, Slash (of Guns n Roses fame) and a couple of hundred Billy supporters showed up at the zoo to show their support for building a new home for him.

This controversy made allys that I could have never imagined. Betty White and Slash vs. Bob Barker and Cher. Cher was quoted as saying (and I won't use quotes because I don't have her actual words) that keeping elephants in a zoo is comparable to slavery. So elephants need the same rights as people or African-Americans are equivalent to elephants? Both logical deductions from that thought are obviously absurd.

Living here is so very entertaining.

devil's breath

Starting last weekend and extending into the early part of this week, we in southern California have experienced an uncharacteristic bout of the Santa Ana winds which brought near record breaking heat. Unless you live here, you probably have not heard of this unusual weather phenomenon. If you have, you may have just a basic knowledge of what these winds do. I'd like to take this post to review some of the meterology (which can be easily found with a google or wikipedia search, but I'll do it anyway) as well as describe what it actually feels like.

The Santa Ana winds are classified as a drainage wind, which means they carry high density air from high elevations down a slope with the help of gravity. Between the two great mountain ranges of the west, the Sierra Nevada and the Rocky Mountains, there is a great basin, which is at a high-altitude. When upper winds are favorable, the high density air spills out of the basin and starts barreling down the slopes towards southern California.

Many people incorrectly believe that the heat of these winds gets picked up when they pass through the great Sonoran and Mojave deserts. The deserts contribute to the incredible dryness of the winds, but not the heat. The heat comes from something called adiabatic heating: a fancy term with lots of equations meaning that the heat comes from an intrinsic change in the air itself as the pressure changes with altitude. When it moves down the slope, the atmospheric pressure increases, which compresses the air and causes it to warm.

These winds are typical in the fall and spring and they often bring some of the hottest temperatures of the summer. They bring these hot temperatures from the northeast and it is common for the temperatures to be hotter at the coasts than it is in the desert.

Since the Santa Ana winds some in the fall, after a dry summer, they are usually a deadly factor in our frequent outbreak of wildfires in our dry chapparal landscape. The winds, which can gust upwards of 60mph, can make firefighting nearly impossible.

Once the winds reach the ocean, they bring up cold water from below the surface layer. With this cold water come many nutrients, which help feed local fish schools.

As far as living in it, it's akin to walking around in a giant hair dryer. Put your hair in a ponytail, skip the super-shiny lip gloss, and get out your heavy-duty lotions and masques. My skin reacts to the Santa Ana winds the way it reacted to the dry chill of the New England winter... getting dry and wrinkly.

What's it like to live where you live... any other weird weather phenomena out there?

wide, luxurious lanes

Today, I have betrayed my inner-Californian by ordering a toll road transponder for my car.

When I first visited the Northeast, we were driving along some freeway... excuse me... highway and we slowed suddenly. I inquired about the little buildings in the middle of the road with cars lined up outside them and asked if they were checking our car for produce. We were on a toll road, and it was time to pay up.

The idea of a toll road never felt right to me. From I-95 in New York to the Mass Pike, I maintained that the taxpayers of that state already paid for that road in the form of state income tax, gas tax, sales tax, etc. Why the hell are they literally nickel and diming (or quartering) us to death? What pissed me off even more was when I learned that the toll booths on the Mass Pike were supposed to be torn down when the cost of construction of the turnpike was paid for. That milestone was reached decades ago and yet the toll booths remain and the fees increase.

We had no toll roads in my home town. Carpool lanes, sure, but no toll roads. Imagine my surprise and horror when we moved to southern California and saw some toll roads here as well. There are plenty of freeways around to get from point A to point B. No way in hell am I going to take a toll road on a regular basis. Occasionally maybe, but not as a way of life.

Then I got a job that was 17 miles away instead of 12. Believe me, those five miles are in a heavy stretch of freeway. No traffic? Commute is about 20 minutes. Rush hour? An hour or more.

The toll roads near my house offer an alternative route. The few times I've travelled on them were pleasant: Nice views of the foothills nearby, well maintained, no traffic, and the toll booth workers are nice and have all their teeth.

Traffic here is a way of life. You plan your activities around the time of day and what the freeways are like at a certain hour. But surgery and surgical emergencies don't always take traffic patterns into account. I need a faster, legal way to get to work. And, when there are no emergencies, I can think of a lot better ways to spend the hours of my life than in traffic. That's where the alternative, the toll roads, come in.

Today, I gave in and submitted my application for a transponder so going through the toll roads will be faster and cheaper (transponder users get a discount). Putting a toll on an alternative route, rather than a major or only route, sits better with me. I never thought I'd say this, but I'll gladly pay extra for the privilege of getting to my destination faster.

Edited: I changed "I-95 in Connecticut" to "I-95 in New York" after being informed that the I-95 in Connecticut is toll free. Oops!

if anyone deserves a beating...

Yesterday I had to take my phone back to the Verizon store because it stopped recognizing my bluetooth. Not a good thing when you have a 20 mile commute and talking without a hands free device is now illegal in our nanny state.

As luck would have it, next to me at the service counter was a very chatty guy. He was going on and on about how much he hated his blackberry and that he was tired of all the media everywhere. Media at home. Media at work. Finally, I asked:

"What is it that you do?"

"I'm involved with interactive advertising."

"Oh. (pause) What exactly does that mean?"

"Advertising on the internet; banners, pop-ups, pop-overs, pop-unders, side pop ups. That sort of thing."

"And those ads that cover the page you actually want to look at and you can't get it to close?"

"Those use flash technology. But yes."

It was all I could do to keep from decking him. Bastard.

little one

Yesterday, Southern California was temporarily rocked with a 5.4 earthquake with it's epicenter about 30 miles southeast of LA. I was studying at the time and I heard the rumbling before I actually felt the shaking. I immediately got up from my chair and crouched under the marble bar in the kitchen. A little known fact is that stout structures with a ledge can protect you even better than a doorway. And this vantage point would give me the chance to look outside and see what else was going on.

It lasted about 15-20 seconds. I wasn't scared; more fascinated. But if it had been any stronger or gone on any longer, I would have been freaked. I'm not sure what the strength of it was by the time it reached us in Orange County, but it was enough to knock some greeting cards I had displayed off the tv cabinet.

After that, I naturally tried to recall as much as I had ever learned about earthquakes. This was quickly supplemented with tidbits on the news.

• The San Andreas Fault has a "big one" every 150 years or so. It's been 151 years. We're due and that clearly wasn't it.
• The Richter scale isn't linear, it's logarithmic. So a 6.4 isn't double a 3.2 -- it's many levels higher than double.
• A smaller earthquake can precede a big one. Again, this wasn't it.

It was probably silly of me, but after I walked around a bit, I decided to prepare for evacuation. Not in a major way, but really more as practice. I got out the kitty carriers and what we call the "Omega" binder. It is, in one place, a collection of all our important papers like birth certificate and other financial documents, ready to go in an instant.

Even though I'm a native Californian, I grew up in the Central Valley. Not famous for it's earthquakes, even though the San Andreas Fault runs right through it. Before yesterday, the biggest earthquake I ever felt was in 1989 when the quake hit San Francisco during the World Series and crushed a bunch of people on the freeway. That was a 6.7 and I only felt a small roll. I'm not sure if I'd ever be completely ready for the "big one" whatever that means, but I feel semi-prepared. I hope this moderate sized earthquake is prompting Californians everywhere to do some amount of preparing for when the next disaster strikes.

Tomorrow I'll talk about the Tar Pits, which, interestingly enough, only exist because of the high amount of fault activity and plate movement here. I'll talk about it barring another natural disaster. ;-)