Spring is in the air...

And with that comes local strawberries. Soon enough I'll get to make my favorite salad, adapted from Cooks Illustrated.

Spring Strawberry Salad

1 bag baby spinach
1 container small fresh strawberries
1 container blueberries (not frozen)
slivered almonds to taste
1 bunch basil taken off the stems
your favorite homemade balsamic dressing with a buttload of fresh pepper cracked into it.

Toss all the ingredients together except the dressing- strawberries should be halved or quartered... pass dressing at the table, and enjoy. (Yes, basil goes in like leaves- you may chop in half, but don't chiffonade.)


In other news, classes are coming to an end. My last clinical day was yesterday, and my last lecture is tomorrow. I have exams aplenty for the next two weeks, then I AM DONE for the summer... YAY!

Open Letters, part hinty-bazillion

Dear upstairs neighbors,

They're called slippers. Invest.

Sincerely,
"I have clinicals at 0700. Thanks."

Dear Coworkers,

My name really isn't pronounced Uh-Leeeeee-Suh, eee-leese, honey, or "the secretary." Believe it or not, I've been alive 31 years, and am fairly certain of the actual pronounciation that my parents intended. I will generally respond to either uh-liss-uh or ee-liss-uh. Either is permissible. Now that I've been working on your floor for over 2 years, I would appreciate the effort to actually make me feel like part of the team by pronouncing my name properly, unless you'd prefer that I horrendously misprounounce your name or confer demeaning nicknames (such as nursey) on you as well. I'm easy.

Sincerely,
"How the fuck did you arrive at 'Susan' from that?"

Dear fellow student,

The dress code specifically states that we must wear white closed toe and heel shoes with white socks. Your holey-ass mary jane crocs with NO SOCKS over in OB the other day were seriously skeetchtastic. But to then wear them again the next day in labor and delivery, where the incidence of baby-goo was way, way higher is just nasty. Seriously. SOCKS! Look into them!

Sincerely,
Crocs are just grown up jelly shoes.

Dear dude who sits behind me in class-

Congratulations for acing all of your classes despite rarely showing up ever. May I humbly suggest that if you're going to show up at 8:20 for an 8:00 class, and talk through the vast majority of it that you just not even bother? Seriously. Invest in a few extra hours of sleep. Go take yourself out for coffee. Go work on a paper or something. Or, here's a novel idea... STFU so I can hear the prof.

Sincerely,
ZIP IT.

PS- I still hate you for the crap you pulled last semester.

Dear profs-

Please stop showing STIs of the eye. We can look at grody bits and bobs all day long, but seriously- I do not need to see a big freaking gooey eyeball. We get it. Don't touch your drippy peen hole, and then rub your eyes.

Sincerely,
No cup cheese here, thanks.

Oh Hell Yes.

In the past week I've been given 2 patients on my couplet care rotation (everyone else is still getting 1, color me special), got mentioned on a patient comment card (in a positive way) AND made the last exam my complete and utter bitch (96%, HA!).

If the rest of the semester gets any better, I'm likely to be thoroughly unbearable.

I'm in the OR tomorrow, so lets hope I can handle whatever they throw at me.

In other news, I just cast on for this tonight. I'm making it in a nice vanilla, with pale pink beads, to wear at my wedding. (Assuming I can get it done, and don't want to kill myself by the time I make any progress on it.) Of course, I've already lost my stupidass tiny crochet hook between swatching and now, so that's a bit annoying. It can't have gotten far...