The Tale of the Napkin Boy

Have you ever been sitting at a table on the sidewalk with friends on a nice summer night enjoying drinks when all of the sudden some random person says, "Excuse me, sorry for interrupting" and slips you a napkin with his/her name on it and their phone number?  Yea - me neither - unless of course you are my girlfriend, Jen.  Because this is exactly what happened to us last Friday night (ew - I just sang that in my head like that stupid f*cking song by Katy Perry - not a fan).

So, here we are, sitting outside of Bar Louie in the CWE enjoying our cocktails with another guy from my class.  All of a sudden, random dark headed boy interrupts our conversation, drops the napkin and leaves.  Seriously?  SRSLY?  Did that just happen?  Why yes, yes it did.  We couldn't believe it.  Jen and I were awe struck.  That was one helluva ballsy move.  So as Jen sits there blushing, we continue to gush about what just happened. 

First things first, we check out the area code.  Shit.  407 - that's definitely not good ol STL.  Immediately googling it, we find out it's Orlando - which supports his handsome Latino looks.  He must be a transplant to the STL area.  I ask Jen if she's going to text him and she says, "Of course.  What do I have to lose?!"  Precisely. 

So I get a text from Jen yesterday and our conversation goes something like this:

Jen: Napkin boy lives in New York.  Typical.
Me: Bullshit.  WTF.  Why did he even give you his number then?  Did he think he could fly you up for a weekend rendezvous?
Jen: No idea...it's kind of annoying actually.  And if I am really being honest, it makes sense, STL boys would NEVER approach a girl like that, if at all.

So riddle me this - guys, why the hell would you give your number out to someone like that, get her excited and make her feel flattered if you knew there was absolutely no chance.  WTF was this dude thinking?  Did he really think he was that hot and that smooth that she would text him immediately and hook up with him while he was in town then she'd move to NYC and live happily ever after (seriously doubt the last part, only the first)?  Seriously? SRSLY?  I just don't understand the male species.  Someone please explain.

Once again, proof that guys are idiots.

-Stay Sassy, xo

Live from Dallas | Part II

So another couple of weeks have come and gone here in the good 'ol state of Texas.  If there was ever a moment I wished time would slow down, now might be one of those moments - only for the reason that I LOVE being in Dallas and yet again I am not looking forward to going back to St. Louis here in a few short weeks (although I absolutely can't wait to see Jen, my PA loves and float the river!!)  Working at a children's hospital has been just the experience I was hoping for.  I absolutely LOVE it, just as I thought I would.  Working in the emergency department has been the perfect mix of everything that I love - and the three 12 hour shift per week make the lifestyle pretty legit.  The only thing that would make it better right now would be to be receiving a pay check.  Working for free...and actually paying tuition to work is not cool.  Especially with the AMAZING shopping Dallas has.

Over the past several weeks I've seen a variety of things in the ED.  Some sadder than others.  I've seen fear in children's eyes relieved by a simple grip of the elbow and a twist of the forearm (Nursemaid's elbow).  I've sutured gashes so perfectly closed leaving childhood memories in the form of scars on almost every body part imaginable.  Ripped foreskin?  No problem - I'll just use Dermabond and glue that back together.  Broken arm?  I got it - I'll drug your child up, reduce the fracture, and put a cast on it...all under the close supervision of my preceptor of course...PA Fisher (also quickly becoming a great friend again).  Then there's the not so fun cases like telling a 13 year old girl she was infected with chlamydia from the first guy she ever had sex with.  And then having to report it to social work.  Thank God for social workers.  I'm pretty sure she instilled the fear of life in that child to never have sex again and gave her the guidance her mother never shared with her.  It makes me realize how truly blessed I was to have a mother who cared about me and every detail of my life SO much, even when I thought she was the meanest mom in the world.

The social scene in Dallas has continued to impress.  While I haven't been kicked out of any more bars, thankfully (as told in Part I), I have enjoyed every night I've gone out.  I'm sure a lot of it is because it's new to me.  But the people here are so friendly and every time I go out, I meet new people.  The social scene is ENDLESS.  There are so many places to go to.  And so many things to do.  Every single night.  I've been working on being a social drinker...and not a drunk.  I had dinner with two friends from Pittsburg (my home town) last week and we came to a conclusion that when you're from a small town, you never learn how to be a social drinker.  You only learn how to get wasted because there's really nothing better to do.  People in Dallas go out every night of the week.  But they don't necessarily get trashed every night of the week.  I plan to master this skill as well.

Yesterday I got my first REAL taste of a true Texas Honkey Tonk in the form of Ft. Worth, TX. Holy Texas! When I first told my uncle I was going to head to the stock yards for the Fourth of July he smirked and told me to get ready for an experience. He wasn't kidding. In terms of Dallas/Ft. Worth, he called Dallas "sophistication" and Ft. Worth "country." Now I won't go as far as to say Ft. Worth has no sophistication at all, but damn....it sure is night and day. Cowboys, Wranglers and shit kickers...with dried shit still on them. I saw a black cowboy (which apparently isn't too common) as well as an Asian Cowgirl (she was quite the two-stepper) and of course several, tattooed and toothless coming-out-of-the-cracks total W.T. wearing far too little clothing.




And on a final note - Classy With a Side of Sassy will be moving south as of December.  I've decided to make a change and a move in my life.  And there's no better time than now.  Don't get me wrong, KC - I love, love you dearly.  But I'm afraid if I move back, I'll always regret that I never gave Dallas a chance.  I'm afraid I'll get settled in to life in KC with the same circle of friends, the same bars, the same scenery and never meet anyone new.  Dating in KC hasn't been successful thus far, so I think it's time to give Dallas a chance.  I know it's going to be hard without my strong circle of friends.  But I also know, I'll meet new people in no time.  There are tons of Jayhawks down here...more than I probably realize.  And the added bonus - the medical community in Dallas is phenomenal!  PAs are in such a high demand I should have no problem finding a job.  And even better - they make bank!  It's time I face the challenge and take the plunge.  Bring it on Dallas.  I'm ready for you!

"After all, things change, so do cities.  People come into your life and they go. But it's comforting to know that the ones you love are always in your heart...and if you're very lucky, a plane ride away." -SATC

-Stay sassy, xo  

Live from Dallas | Part I | Have You Missed Me?!

Week One

It's official - I'm a Texan.  And by "official" I mean only for the next 5 weeks, still with my Kansas DL, Kansas plates and an apartment sitting in St. Louis.  If you're feeling a little out of the loop - quick update - I'm dong an elective rotation at Children's Medical Center Dallas in the emergency department with my fabulous friend PA Fisher.  Last week was my "vacation week" which constitutes the only week during clinical rotation year that you get off - as in not work, not sexually.  While some of my fellow classmates spent theirs in Mexico and Florida, I spent mine moving down to Hot as Balls Dallas, TX.  My mom, Marley and I made the 7 hour trek last Tuesday in my jam packed TSX and spent the rest of the week running errands for my procrastinator Uncle - whom, bee-tee-dubs I adore...just sayin'.  Apparently men don't like to furniture shop and assume just because women love to shop, we must also love to shop for bedroom furniture...for someone else.  Wrong.  I enjoy shopping for myself and myself only...oh and for all my friends who have babies (that shit makes me teary eyed).   After two days of driving around Dallas/Plano searching for the perfect dresser, night stand and head board, he of course settled on the very first one we showed him (btw, my awesome single uncle is recently divorced from a nut job who took the guest bedroom furniture - hence the unfurnished bedroom).

So, as you probably have caught on to - you smart little cookie, you -  I am staying with my handsome and did I mention? fun and single uncle in North Dallas.  So far, so good.  We've done some grilling out and sipped on a few glasses of wine.  Even better, he let me bring Miss Marie who is adjusting rather well to the Texas heat with her butchered hair cut - no making fun.

Friday I dropped my mom off at the airport and spent the rest of the day lying by the pool working on my tan lines before heading to HH.  There, I met my first true Texan friend.  She's just precious...and I mean PRESH.  Picture Texas chick and you picture her.  Bubbly and blond.  Sarah and I were the first to arrive at the Mexican restaurant we decided to fancy for Skinny Bitch Margs and chips, salsa and guac.  All the sudden bubbly, blond Texan plops down in the booth and says, "Oh my God, y'all! It's so f*cking hot out there!"  I knew from then on we were going to be friends.  I died when I heard her Southern twang and then peed my pants a little when she said the f-word...because if you've ever had a convo with me (unless your an elder to me and I was doing my best to behave) I have quite the potty mouth at times.  We had great conversation the rest of the night - much of which I can't recall.

Then, just like that along came Saturday.  I again, woke up and plopped my ass by the pool for a little sun as I sobered up just in time to go out again.  Saturday night was spent in Uptown with a mutual friend from Kansas City who just made the big move down to Dallas.  I randomly ran in to Nathan in KC before I left and found out he was relocating.  From that moment on, it was decided we would be Kansas Partners in Crime.  And that we were.  We spent a few beers catching up on the last few years of our lives in KC.  I met him through my ex-boyfriend and you know how that goes - once you break up with the loser boyfriend, you break up with his friends too - so I hadn't seen him too much since then.

We hit up a few bars and after a few vodka drinks my sass started to come out.  Weird.  Imagine that.  We met some random guys and hung out with them for the rest of the night - mostly because we couldn't get rid of the little Cub Scout and his friends.  Cub Scout spent the entire night hitting on me.  I repeatedly thanked him for the compliments, but no thanks.  Clearly (hence the nickname), Cub Scout was a few years younger than me and I tried to explain to him that I wasn't interested in dating anyone who I potentially could have babysat as a child.

We finally made a mad dash and ditched him and hit up another bar.  I'm just going to preface this with saying, I was NOT a hot mess.  A few cocktails - yes.  Drunk as a skunk on the forth of July - no.  So as we approached the last bar, I finagled in my Marc Jacobs bag to find my ID.  I'm not sure if the door guy was more pissed that he was 20-something and still just a door guy or if he just hates Kansas.  I flashed my DL and headed in to the bar.  As I was walking in...seriously like FIVE steps, I kind of rolled my ankle - any female who wears heels - especially a short little shit like me who wears at least 3 inch heels at the very least knows how easy it is to slightly stumble SOBER.  Apparently pissed off door guy thought I was wasted out of my mind and proceeded to stop me and tell me I was done and had to leave the bar.  Seriously?  SRSLY?!  I couldn't believe him!  I wasn't even that intoxicated - clearly because I can fully recall the story. I looked at him with disgust, spit in his face and left....KIDDING.  I did nothing of the sort.  I tried to explain that I had tripped over my own feet but he was not having it.  Whatever dude.  Sorry you hate life.

So with that being said - it took me less than one week to get kicked out of a bar.  Reallllll classy.

I think this post has gone on quite a bit - maybe too much.  But considering my uncle doesn't have internet at his house, my posts will probably be few and far between while I'm in Dallas at the local Starbucks.  Keep checking back and I'll let you in on the HOTTIE Southern gents (straight out of a Vineyard Vines or Polo catalog) and a few of my stories of working nights in the Emergency Department...kids do the darndest things!

-Stay Sassy, xo

Adolescent minds

I love medicine.  That's been well established.  In medicine, as we go through school - especially clinical rotations, we all try to find our niche.  I think it's safe to say I haven't narrowed my interests down.  At this point I've completed four rotations.  But even before starting rotations, before going to PA school, back as far as I can remember, I've loved kids.  They're awesome.  Yes I say that knowing I do not have any children and I only have to deal with them for 20 minutes at the most at an appointment or for a few hours while babysitting.  I have an escape.  Adolescents are great.  They're so young and innocent and the world seems so simple to them.  Life is almost black and white, maybe with a few shades of gray, but not many.  This was confirmed yet again today.

The first story I've already shared via FB as my status.  I got to the office this morning and Dr. Metz had done a quick tonsillectomy and adenoidectomy (T&A) on an eight year old boy we saw in the office last week.  He asked Dr. Metz this morning where his hottie PA from St. Louis was.  I mean seriously kid?  You're eight years old and you're already hitting on women almost 3 times your age?!  I couldn't help but laugh and think to myself...oh dear, that mom is going to have it out with that horn ball!

Once again, later this afternoon the simplicity of life to a seven year old boy was confirmed.  This particular boy was also being seen for throat issues, snoring and recurrent strep throat.  We found out he had a few tonsillar stones in the past that had been dislodged.  While many of you probably have no idea what the heck I'm talking about, a tonsillar stone is a calcium deposit in your tonsils.  They frequently increase in size and sometimes pop out.  They smell absolutely HORRIBLE and can be a major cause of halitosis (bad breath).  So, making conversation with the boy I said, "You don't have to worry about that do you?  You aren't kissing girls are you?!"  He looked at me in disgust and shook his head no!  But then, he did make a point to add, "There was a girl that liked me...but I dumped her!  She was the tallest girl in the class!"  Again, I couldn't help but laugh.  If only relationships were as easy as being too tall.

Continuing on with the visit, we got in to the sequelae of untreated strep throat - rheumatic fever, rheumatic heart disease, kidney injury and kidney disease.  While these side effects of untreated strep are rare in the US due to our aggressiveness of treating strep throat, there is still a risk.  Dr. Metz mentioned the rare possibility of kidney disease and without thinking the little boy shouted out, "I don't want kidney disease!  I want to have kids some day!"  He has a lot to learn about sex ed.  But for now, we'll let that seven year old mind believe whatever it wants to believe.

-Stay Sassy, xo

Derrr....what the?!

Woof.  So many things have led me to scratch my head over the past few weeks and say....um...what the ____ (fill in the blank).  I'm sure some of them you've stumbled upon...but I'm sharing anyway because it's my blog and I can do what I want to.  Here are just a few...

1. Have you ever noticed when you go to the hair dresser and you tell them you want to do something totally different they look at you and say, "well what are you thinking?"  Sir or Ma'am...this is why I come to you.  You went to school for this shit, aren't you supposed to know what's in and what will or will not look good on me?  You don't go to the doctor (or your lovely PA) and tell them what your diagnosis is and what medicine to prescribe.  That's my job.  And it's your job to tell me what you think will look fabulous on me.  On a side note, I love my hair dresser.  This is just a random thought that I had recently from hair stylists in the past.

2.  While we're on the topic of beauty....an eight year old getting Botox for wrinkles?!  Seriously?!  SRSLY?!  WTF is this psychotic mother thinking?!  Child, please.  There is no way you have flipping wrinkles at eight years old.  I would put money on it that this child is going to end up anorexic and on drugs.  My biggest fear at eight years old was whether or not the boy who sat next to me in class picking his nose gave me cooties or not, not whether or not I had a wrinkle or two.  I'm the one who needs a little Botox.  Give me a break and go play in the sand box or something.  

3.  So I've done a crap load of driving over the past few months.  STL to Danville to STL to KC to Pitt to KC to Manhattan to KC.  You get the point.  Did everyone forget how to drive?  LEFT LANE FOR PASSING ONLY.  Apparently the 9,000 drivers I've encountered over the past few months can't read that street sign.  It makes me so angry when I'm cruising down the highway and I have to flippin' put on my breaks thus canceling my cruise control  because some retard driver pulls in to the lane in front of me and takes their jolly ass time.  SLOWER TRAFFIC KEEP RIGHT.  Please keep this in mind next time you're driving down the highway or I'm probably going to rear end your turtle bumper.

4.  Strong is the new skinny?  Ok, that's legit...I guess.  But is it just me or is this chick on the skinny side as well?  If strong is the new skinny, shouldn't the advertisement be of a woman who is maybe a little more "big boned" to make the chubbies feel better that they can bench 125 lbs?  Don't get me wrong, her body is hot.  But I'm just a little confused.  Just sayin'....

5. We've all made the mistake once or twice of showing our bra straps.  Before the multifunctional straps that can be attached and reattached 5,000 different ways, it was sometimes difficult to cover your bra straps when wearing a racer back tee or a spaghetti string shirt. And well, strapless bras straight up SUCK and I'm positive they were invented by some man who has never worn a bra in his life.  There's really no excuse these days.  So, just an FYI...I really don't want to see your PINK Vicky's bra straps even if they match your stupid dress with PINK plastered on the ass that I'm pretty sure was intended to be a nighty worn in the privacy of your own home.  It reminds me of the fad when it was "cool"(and I use that term VERY lightly) to show your g-string out of your jeans.  I hope this chick enjoyed her movie.

6.  Holy dirty dot (aka Wyandotte county).  Is this car for real?!  Stab me in the eye.  Aren't we over the vampire fad yet?!  Dear Hey-Sus.  This is just embarrassing.  Even funnier...after I snapped this pic at a stop light and passed this car shaking my head and giggling, I realized the driver...was a dude...probably Twilight Mom's 3rd baby daddy.  So you're obsessed with the Twilight Saga...that's fine...I get obsessions.  But to plaster it on your car?!  Even my most obsessed friend, Ren wouldn't be caught dead with this shit on her car.  Somethings are meant to be kept to yourself.  I guess when your child doesn't bring home honor roll bumper stickers or decals, you gotta fill the windows with something...

Phew...I feel so much better now that I've gotten all of that off my chest.

-Stay Sassy, xo

Nothing Good is "Thick & Creamy"

One of my many food obessions lately has been yogurt. I've always liked it, but since my first rotation at SLU Hospital where they handed Yoplait Yogurt out to students, residents and interns like candy, I've been hooked again. My favorite flavor, in case you're wondering...Very Vanilla. How original...I know. I love dipping my banana in it or adding
Cheerios for a little crunch. 

Moving on. So last week I stopped at the local gettin' store aka Walmart on my way home from work to pick up a few necessities, one of which was yogurt. At 50 cents a pop, you can't go wrong. I picked up at least ten. I was bummed to find they were completely sold out of my most favorite flavor, Very Vanilla. See, I'm not the only plain Jane yogurt lover out there. Apparently the entire town of Edwardsville also loves Very Vanilla. Frantically, in the heat of the moment, I decided I'd give another version a try. The "Thick & Creamy" French Vanilla version. After all, I am French...so it must be legit, right? 

Big mistake. 

BIG. 

HUGE. 

Last night, I peeled back the shiny silver top to give it a whirl. Upon first examination, it looked normal. I put my spoon in to check the consistency and gave it a little stir. And right from there, it was over. I pulled out a spoonful and inspected it closely. I had a hard time getting past the clumpiness that was on my spoon, but being the brave soul that I am, I closed my eyes and shoved it in my mouth. And that's when I almost lost it, literally. I can't even describe to you how nasty and ooey gooey it tasted. I should have known. Nothing "thick & creamy" ever tastes good in your mouth.

I won't fall for that same mistake twice. And I suggest you don't either.

-Stay Sassy, xo

Sotally Tober Texting

So I've gotten in this nasty (or maybe not so bad) habit of deleting my text messages.  Not a big deal you'd think.  Just keeping the phone less cluttered or something like that.  The only problem with this habit is the fact I seem to engage in this type of behavior most frequently after a cocktail...or several.  So you can see the problem this proposes.  Girl goes out.  Girl has a few drinks.  Girl gets tipsy.  Girl gets sassy.  Girl starts texting.  And well I'm sure you can figure out the rest.

Show me your BRAIN!

Last weekend was Mardi Gras here in the Lou (one of the few things I do like about STL) and I was out in full force.  I'm pretty positive I sent several (most likely inappropriate) text messages to every guy I've met, smooched and/or dated/gone on a date with in the past few months.  While I recall a few texting conversations with a certain few, the next morning when I woke up in my clothes from the night before next to my best friend, the evidence had been destroyed.  The first thing we did when we woke up naturally was check our phones to see the damage we had done.  Low and behold, both of us had engaged in the same suspicious behaviors...not one text message in sight.  Pretty sure I learned the trick from her.

Who knows what I said to them, who knows who I actually texted.  The good thing about it, the next day you don't have any regrets about what you said, because you have no idea what you said.  You all know the feeling when you look at your texts from the night before and you think to yourself, "Oh bejesus...I DID NOT text him/her that...did I?"  But the evidence is staring you right in the face.  No denying it.  And nine times out of ten, grief and embarrassment consume you.

So, if you're like me and get finger happy when drinking (with a side of sassy), you can either a) leave your phone at home (yea right, the one time you do that there will be an emergency and you'll be with out your mobile) or b) TEXT AWAY.  I prefer the later.  Text away my friends.  Text...text...text.  And then delete the evidence.  You won't feel as bad the next day because it will be like it never happened.

-Stay Sassy, xo

What's a girl gotta do for some Kansas athletics?

If you know me, you know how much I love living in St. Louis.  If we were in elementary school, the previous statement would have been made on opposite day.  In fact, I dislike living in St. Louis and am counting down until I can move on to the next city in my life.  I plan to discuss a few of the many reasons St. Louis just rubs me the wrong way, but today I'm just going to focus on Kansas athletics.  Disclaimer: If you love STL, living in STL and everything that is STL...I'm sorry if I offend you.  It's nothing personal!  There actually are some things I like about living in the Dirty Lou...but none will be discussed today.

The number one reason I dislike living in St. Louis...it's infested with Mizzou fans...and being a die-hard Kansas fan...this does not tickle my fancy in the slightest.  Everywhere you turn there is a repulsive fan wearing Mizzou gear.  Every bar in St. Louis is a Mizzou bar.  And it sucks.  Everyone either went to Mizzou or loves Mizzou.  I'd rather slit my wrists than go to Mizzou (complete joke - I'd never slit my wrist - but you get the idea of how much I hate obnoxious Mizzou fans).  I constantly live in fear that someone will slit my tires solely based on my Kansas tags.

I realize STL is a plague of Tigers, but please...I KNOW for a fact there are some Jayhawks here too!  I get that Jayhawk football is really sucking this year (it's a transition year), but when I go to a sports bar I expect that I will be able to find them broadcasting the Jayhawks - even if it's on the TV in the back corner!  Wrong again.  Last night I went to meet a few friends and watch KU play Nebraska and we were informed the would not be playing the game...at a sports bar.  Friday night I had to resort to watching KU basketball slaughter Longwood, 113-75 via the world wide web (shout out to ESPN360).

Just as frustrating...no love here for the Chiefs.  And if you haven't watched the Rams lately or ever...they stink worse than Marley's doo doos....even if they are leading the NFC West...take my word.  Now the Chiefs on the other hand...not only are they leading the the AFC West (at the time of this post -they are currently losing to the Broncos...but that's beside the point) but they are also leading the NFL in rushing yards with an average of 5.0 yards per.  Before you start thinking I'm some amazing sports fan, I'll let you know I looked all this up on NFL.com.

All this girl is asking for is some Kansas athletics in my life on something other than my 14" MacBook screen.  Is that too much to ask?  I think not.  I have this amazing high definition flat screen in my living room for a reason...not to mention the $$$ I pay for AT&T U-verse...please sweet baby Jesus...give me some Kansas athletics (specifically Kansas Basketball) before I go crazy here in the Dirty Lou.

-Stay Sassy, xo


P.S. Thank you Blair for drawing to my attention that the Chiefs are not technically from Kansas....I realize this...but they typically are the "Kansas team" considering they are the closest thing to an NFL team Kansas has.  Smart ass....