Pontificum Scriblerus

I finally understand the 3/4 sleeve coat and why it was invented: for SF weather! I observe beautiful scenery and appreciate its uniqueness and opposite-ness from New England. I meet up with childhood friends all grown up, and find kindred spirits never die, but might become Republican. I stalk many little children, these two especially. I realize my own calf muscle weakness after scaling SF hills. I take in the Pacific, which is anything but pacified. I spend a week without eating meat - just didn't feel like it - and trying small plates and much wine both in the city and out. I meet Boston friends and we make good on California-nia knows how to party.

Once in a while, I meet an innocent ignoramus who'll ask me with a straight face: "do they celebrate Thanksgiving in Russia?" I usually reply, "Well, it's a holiday celebrating the Pilgrims arriving in America, so, no." Russians celebrate Thanksgiving here, though. I'd say that for most, it's the one big holiday with which all have developed a connection, even the skeptical ones, like my parents. It's actually become my absolute favorite holiday, even better than New Year and my birthday (past a certain age, birthday just... lose their festivity). Our first Thanksgiving here was... It needs backdrop. Back in Russia, we lived in what would here be a 1 bedroom apartment: mom, dad, myself, grandma, and grandma's sister. My mom postulates that she never felt like the three of us were ever an independent family unit until we left Russia, and she's probably right. We arrived to Boston in April 1990 as part of the late 80s early 90s wave of immi...

Please pardon my cheesiness with the title of this post. "Sur" in Russian is short for surrealism, and that is what I am referring to, not the actual beautiful region of Northern California. I'm just saying. SF seems surreal for several reasons. It's very East Coastish in the sense that it's a walking city, it has broad streets and tall buildings, but on the other hand, there are palm trees; it has a plethora of small businesses and mom and pop stores; it has all purpose bars and establishments like Europe; it has mountains in the background in either direciton, like Bilbao; and it's perpetually September here as far as I'm concerned, so the incongruity of Christmas trees and displays and ice skating in the square is... that's right, surreal. I was here last fifteen fucking years ago. That's also surreal; I was a real person then, with opinions and dramas. I remember that vacation very well, as I flew cross country on my own - after having missed a...

Today, I learned that there is such a thing as too much wine. I guess I knew that already, but it was reaffirmed today. Napa valley is gorgeous; I've never seen anything like it and I cannot believe it's America. And wine tasting was fun - for the first 3 wineries. Then, my tongue turned purple, and my tummy just turned. Unbelievably, we ordered more wine at dinner - it's like I just don't wanna listen to my body - at which point, I had premonitions of regurgitation. I think I'm done with wine for the rest of the trip, unfortunately. Oh - and I didn't see Sandra Oh anywhere, although I did have persistent visions of that guy from Sideways sticking it to the chubby waitress and then running nekked down the street with some near-frontal nudity. Or at least, twilight dangling in plain view. And I refused to drink Merlot.t

I remember when I was about 4, I was taken on my first aeroplane ride, from St Petersburg to Sochi. It was super fun. And I liked to fly: you suddenly get 6-8 hours for yourself to think, read, do nothing, with an excellent excuse. So, I don't understand, when did traveling become such a tremendous pain in the arse?? I don't remember the last time I enjoyed an airport experience at all! Yesterday, we boarded the plane, and things looked promising: in a full flight, we seemed to have been granted the only empty seat as the middle of our threesome. That's where the goodness ended, though. Imagine: doors shut, and the plane starts taxying, and all of sudden screeches to halt and backs up. 3 flight attendants race to the back of the plane - actually, about 3 rows behind us. I'm all, OMGeeee, is someone sick?? I'm like totally a doctor, maybe I should help! Hubby held me down. He's very pragmatic: Don't even think about it until they ask. Anyway, turned out, it w...

I have always had a love hate relationship with the T. On the one hand, I really hate driving; on the other hand, the T is like a crotchety old man who's always on the fritz and fails me constantly. But the good thing about taking the T was the fact that I got to spend at least 20 minutes a day outside. Although, of course, this is a double edged sword, because sure, it's lovely to stroll to the T on a sunny September afternoon, but imagine a pitch black February morning... The fall is my absolute favorite time of the year, when it's not too hot, not too cold; flexible fashions, bright colors, that amazing scent of rainy leaves permeating the air, all these things make me happy. But now that I'm driving everywhere, and spend most of my day in a dreary hospital without access to natural light, I didn't even notice the beautiful fall weather, and wasn't aware of how it switched from fall to freezing. Yesterday I made the trip back out to my old place of work in th...

When I get home from work - and I've said this before - the kitchen is a daunting prospect. The responsibility of dinner looms in the not-so-far distance. I'm always looking for something that won't take me away from my must-see-TV and my must-lie-down couch. Plus, I'm always looking to get some vegetation into our carnivorous diet, and that's difficult when your life partner won't eat them if he can see them. This recipe is an oldie but a goodie; I remember it from childhood, when I also hated vegetables. I ate these, though. Zucchini Pancakes About 2 zucchinis, grated -I have a food processor with a grating attachment. makes things deliciously easy 2 scallions, chopped 1/4-1/2 cup flour 1 or 2 eggs a good tumble of feta cheese crumbles a handful mint, chopped a handful of basil, chopped oil for cooking sour cream for eating 1) Wrap the grated zucchinis in a paper towel, and squeeze as much water out of them as possible. You can do this twice. You want them dry...

This is excellent if you want to waste some time, love fashion, crave shopping, but hate malls and spending money. Hours upon hours of fun. http://www.polyvore.com

It's entirely possible that aliens have invaded my body and mind. Less than a year ago, I was still dreaming of a loft downtown, a life without a car, crowds and pavement. Now, I suddenly find myself trawling Boston.com's real estate section for houses set on no less than an acre of land. I don't understand this: I hate where I live in the burbs right now! You only have to look at the post below. Malls, highways, paucity of sidewalks - all elicit derision and patronization. Of course, we live with all the inconveniences of the burbs, and none of the conveniences, ie yard... room.... privacy... "You're growing up," I've been told. But why is suburban living any more grown up than city living? I've picked out a few places already. http://re.boston.com/sales/View_Ulisting.asp?lid=4905-70824845 http://re.boston.com/sales/View_Ulisting.asp?lid=2190-70817166 http://re.boston.com/sales/View_Ulisting.asp?lid=2191-70597110 http://re.boston.com/sales/View_U...

I spent all day at home, unprecedentedly, so by 6 pm I was stir crazy. Let's do something, coffee, drink, anything! We had a choice of about 5 Chinese/Japanese/Sushi restaurants, or TGIF or Olive Garden. So freaking depressing. So we went to - where else - the mall. I feel like a freaking 1980s valley girl: Wanna go to The Mall? It was kinda nice. There was a fountain, and some birch trees, and I fully enjoyed a cappuchino at the Nordstrom cafe. But still, the mall?? It's like I live in the real America now or something. I drive down the long road from home to work, and I pass 4 CVSs, and 3 Wallgreens (across the street from each other), 2 Borders, 2 Stop and Shops, 2 Trader Joes, at least 3 McDonalds, and countless Dunkin' Donut. At least no one can fault us for inconsistency.

This here is probably the only picture I have of all three of us together. This is circa 1999, little bro is recently born, I'm 20, and sister is 13. I don't know if you can tell, but we all happen to have identical noses, eyes, and mouths (although my sister's eyes are blue-green). It's pretty amazing. Hence the title of this post, which happens to be a play on words: Eugene, You-gene... Please ignore the unfortunate shadows on the wall that make both of us look like coneheads. Really, the only one who looks good in this picture is the baby. And that's another interesting thing about this picture. This is probably the only time in my life, and I know this is very hard to believe, but, it's probably the only time I was ever in such proximity to a baby, and allowed to hold one. Seriously. I'm thinking back. There was one other instance, that I can't really live down, when, at age 11, I held my neighbor's baby daughter, then laid her on the cou...

Today, my education experience consisted of a morning in transplant clinic. One patient, a 36 year old man had a living related donor transplant, from his sister. That means his sister had a chunk of her liver removed and engrafted into the patient. I thought, wow, now that's selflessness. Then I thought, but he's her brother! What would I do in her situation? Truth is, I don't know. I grew up as an only child in my household. It's not fair to say that I don't have any siblings, because I do, 1 half-sister, 1 half-brother, and 1 step-brother, from previous-slash-second marriages, none of whom ever lived with me. And actually, out of the people of my "generation," ie, generation 0.5 Russian immigrants, I only know a handful who have siblings. One of my friends had 2 siblings, and that was unheard of. Her mother had special privileges as a "Hero-mother." My bff has a brother, and their relationship is too complicated to understand. Hubby has a brot...

Let's talk about PMS. I have been having, you know, "cycles," and PMS for almost 20 years; plus, I'm a physician. So how is it possible that it surprises me every time? EVERY time? It's always like... Gosh, Why do I feel so shitty/tired/sad/irritable/emotional (circle one or more)? I just don't get it... And then... Pow! Ooooohhhhh... Now I get it.

It's really late at night - well, for me, anyway, since I've become lame - and I'm having an attack of graphomania. This happens, and it must be dealt with. However, difficulties arise when I have nothing interesting to say. Plus, it's so late, I can't make the effort to truly develop a thought and express it eloquently. So, I'm gonna drop this idea off here, and perhaps, I'll expand on it later. We were talking last night about whether or not we'll have a Christmas tree in our house when we have kids. Now, the backdrop here gets a little confusing and involved. I'm a Jew - there's no denying it. He's a Catholic - albeit, a non-practicing Church disapproving one. Neither one of us really practices, but try to put our background in the corner, and both get flushedly defensive. However, to throw another monkey into the soup, I'm a Russian Jew. This means that in addition to having basically no religion after being raised by skeptical parent...

I'm so freaking sick of talking about the election!! Also sick of all the viral videos about the election, even the funny ones. But this one is really funny.