This Just Seems Cruel

I understand this is meant to be "art," but it seems more like they are just rubbing it in the poor piglet's face. "Hey Piggy, I believe your only purpose on this earth is to be eaten. I will make a mockery of this and reconstruct you using your cured body parts.  Yes, this is what you lost your life for."

Pig, from Sophie H Powell

I mean, are they at least planning on eating it afterwards? Because then it wouldn't be SO bad.

So The Adventures Begin..

Well, I’m single again.  Hey all you girls in relationships, remember what that’s like? Hanging out with your girlfriends all the time, calling your mom every day, dressing up and going out every weekend?  It feels young, but sadly I am feeling older.  While being single is fun and makes you an awesome independent lady, it’s also a little scary.  Dating again? Getting to know someone, both the good and the bad? Risking more heartache?  Ach, the thought of it makes me nauseous. Seriously, I am actually nauseous right now because I made myself think about that.  It is all horribly daunting, but I guess it is part of what life is all about – taking risks in hopes of finding something great. 

So I guess I am “dating” again.  Well, I’m not really dating anybody in particular, but I’m open to the idea of dating, rather.  I have been on one date, with a most memorable gentleman.  The date commenced with taking shots of vodka at a local douchebag eatery and ended with the gentleman peeing in front of me and a family gathered in front of their TV.  What a scene! I am thrilled that this event has kick started my fabulous and glamorous new dating lifestyle.

True story.

The good news is that perhaps now this blog can return to its underlying theme of the past: adventures in dating, now in a new city!  Let’s see how Boston does. Gentlemen...

The Papilla Monster

I was told I have a large papilla today.

I was running through the clinic, trying to find my instructor before the mad rush of PM appointments.  As I passed an older faculty member (with whom I've had very little interaction), he called to me. 

“Hi!” He said.

I stopped in my tracks and pivoted on my heel towards him, unsure of what to expect of this impending encounter.

“Where are you from?”

“Los Angeles,” I answered, even though I knew that wasn’t what he meant.  He was Persian.  I had been identified as a fellow Persian.  He gave me a frown-y glance, so I gave in and said, “I’m Persian.  Half.  My dad is from Tehran.”

“I could tell.  You know how I could tell?  It’s your eyes.”

“Oh.. thank you?”

“Yes, it’s your eyes.  You have a large papilla.” He attempted to demonstrate with his hands, curling his index finger and thumb together to form a quarter sized void.

My papilla is… what?  How do I respond to such an unusual statement?  He was not giving me a compliment. He was not trying to be funny.  He was simply telling me I was identifiable as member of the Persian community because my papilla was apparently the size of a quarter.

So I gave him the most polite awkward laugh I could manage and thanked him.  I tried to think what a normal person would say next in a conversation like this, but, at a loss for words, I ended up just poking at my giant papilla while standing there staring at him blankly.  “So…” 

Finally he excused me to run off to wherever I was running earlier.

As I was hurrying off I heard him call to me, “Tell your father I say hi!”

Persians.