If I Ruled the World

I was recently chatting with a friend and realized that despite my joy during the last elections and commitment to democracy, I could be persuaded by an enthusiastic population to be a benevolent dictator. The world could do worse--actually, it has done much worse. I mean most people hate dictators because we equate them with evil and lack of accountability. But I'm a relatively nice person on many, many levels. Sure I have temper issues, but I limit myself to yelling and an occasional use of profanity. On the upside, I believe in feeding people. If I make crazy declarations like, "Let them eat cake" (which Marie Antoinette never did by the way), it will be because I have baked lots and lots of cake. Also, I would never make such declarations until everyone has had lunch or dinner. Unless it is their birthday, in which case they can eat cake whenever they want.

I'd also put a lot of emphasis on universal literacy and health care. I'm pretty sure if there weren't such ridiculously high levels of illiteracy and ignorance in the world, we wouldn't be dealing with half the things that are going on around the world. I know ignorance is in the eye of the beholder, and literacy cannot erase it, but it can be reduced and isolated. I'll take that as a positive first step. All that knowledge can be channeled to doing a few positive things--curing diseases, building things and what not. Plus, once everyone is literate, they can read about all of my amazing contributions to the world.

I think that's a good start to a new society. I realize that I would technically be a dictator, I'd emphasize the benevolent part. I'm not sure how I'd go about achieving such things--I'm assuming there will be a petition or a revolution involved. Just please, keep it civilized. This should be a happy event.

Gimpy Cupid Strikes Again!

Out of curiosity, is it wrong to flirt with one's doctor? What if your intentions are pure?

I had a first time appointment with my Sports Medicine physician today, who I had researched extensively based on first availability. I finally broke down and made the appointment after realizing my knee problems weren't going away on their own and crossing my legs is one of the most painful things I do these days.

After a visit to Radiology, I finally met my new doctor. I liked him immediately. He asked some questions, I answered, showing him where my assorted aches and pains resided--under my black jeans obviously. I told him about my training, what mileage brought the pain, what my future training goals were. He took some notes, asked some follow-ups and asked me to stand up and take off my shoes. I looked at him in confusion and ask if he really wanted me barefoot (he did).

Up to this point, I had been relatively successful maintaining some level of dignity and not acting beneath my age. As I took off my shoes, I apologized and told him that my pen had exploded last night and I hadn't noticed all the blue spots I had given myself. Although, I had showered and tried to get rid of the spots. "So, for the record, I'm clean but spotty." As I said those last words, I knew I was no longer the dignified potential athlete, but my usual less than impressive self. He chuckled and commented on the dangers of ink attacks.

Eventually, I got on the bed and he felt my legs, checked my x-rays and said I have beautiful ankles. My knees however, are trying to run away from me. He showed me what normal knees look like, and where my knees and surrounding muscles were doing their best to escape. This causes a lot of stress on them when you're running in one direction and they are trying to run in another. They pull on IT bands that make crossing one's legs almost impossible.

Then he dropped the real bomb: "If you look here", as he looked evenly my legs, "you'll notice that your right leg is a little more than an eighth of an inch longer than your left leg--which will make your body adjust and put more..."

By now I was laughing so hard, my whole body was shaking. "How can you tell me I'm lop-sided with a straight face?"

"Oh, in this line of work you realize every body is truly unique."

I started flirting with him because he struck the right tone. And he laughed at my comments, actually said I was funny complimented my x-ray ankles again. Compliments AND appreciating my sense of humor? All that was missing was a British accent.

Did I mention he was gay? You didn't think I was actually flirting with him for me, did you? And you know that by flirting, I meant I was just more charming than I usually am to doctors who I don't trust any further than I can throw them, right? (As a side note, I would like to gather some of my past physicians and see how far I could throw them--as a scientific experiment of sorts.) It just occurred to me that a nice doctor would be the perfect potential boyfriend for my best friend who eventually owes me a wedding.

By the time I left his office, I had learned where Dr. Peter was from, what his Thanksgiving weekend plans were and that he was a competitive swimmer for many years and couldn't dream of running long distances. He never implied anything about a spouse/partner, nor was he wearing a ring. Now I'm slated for some physical therapy and have been instructed to put off another half marathon for at least 6-8 months and fill my time with 5-10ks. Of course, if my injuries don't get any better, I'll have to go back and see the nice doctor. With my best friend.

Hey Jealousy

I'm back! Well, kind of--more in the process of coming back. I have been away on a few adventures and trips, been duly punished for my time away from the office by one of my (least) favorite co-workers and have been writing friends fun emails that none of them have received on account of all of the emails ending up in my Drafts folders. I apologize to everyone who has been emailing me and hasn't gotten a response in a while. I'd like to think I'm not rude, just forgetful. This should not surprise any of you.

On a happier note, I have been crocheting quite a bit lately. My new hobby started in August when I had rare foresight to start a project before the time had passed. I started a scarf for a friend while I was visiting my grandmother. My grandmother kept commenting on how cute it was, how quickly it was coming along and how lucky my friend was to have me thinking of her. Now, I may not have seen my grandmother in five years, but I have not forgotten how unsubtle she can be. Despite my firm belief that a project intended for one person, should only be completed for that person--I broke my rule and gave my first scarf to my grandmother. She was gleeful. She went back to Iran and showed it to everyone, bragging about her talented granddaughter who loved her so much that she made instant scarves for people. Normally, I would be happy to hear about people singing my praises--however this time around the praise has caused a ruckus. My father started asking my mom why I had never made him anything (except for the assorted baked goods, foods and knit scarf and cap). Did I not love him enough? Why was I ignoring him? Did I not remember how much he hated the cold? Now you may think this sounds a little bit like a jealous child throwing a tantrum*--you'd be right. That is why my poor mother started a scarf for him which was quickly going no where. She sounds miserable every time I call her. I told her to drop the crochet hook and yarn, and wait for me to send them a package.

Since then, I have finished a few scarves--which are a great project to work on while on cross country flights--and have a growing stack of patterns and yarn. I'm really enjoying the quiet that comes with focusing on a pattern and trying to create something pretty and useful. It is almost as satisfying as cooking--just more enduring and fewer calories.

Unfortunately, it is not a hobby that allows multi-tasking. Sure, I can watch TV and attend early morning meetings, but I can't type and crochet at the same time. Soon, I will have to find a balance between yarn related activities and posting stories that are swirling around in my head.


*As a side note, if you ever wonder where some of my more charming personality traits come from, please remember these family moments. Especially the subtlety, impatience and jealousy parts. While I would like to think that this Pomegranate has rolled far from the tree, it initially dropped pretty close to it.

Living in the Now

I'm alive to see a moment that has left me speechless. I'm a crying puddle of pride, emotion and hope. There will be plenty of other people more eloquent than me with much more at stake and stronger claims to this moment. But as an American and a citizen of the world, a world broken by years of gleeful ignorance, arrogance and cruelty--this is a moment I feel is burnished into my heart and soul.

This could not happen in any other country in the world. This could not happen at a more crucial moment in our history and identities.

I am grateful, joyous and full of love for my country and fellow countrymen.