Drowning in Breast Milk

I really do not like breasts.  Additionally, I do not like nipples.  I don't like it when those guido-type guys wear really tight shirts and you can see their nipples.  I definitely do not like seeing women's nipples.  It isn't that I'm uncomfortable, after all, I have my own breasts complete with nipples (only 2).  However, I really do not care to have other people's nipples invading my visual field.  In fact, nipples to me exemplify the sense offense.  Many of my patients are in the breastfeeding stage of life.  Obviously, being a developmental pediatrician, I encourage breastfeeding.  It promotes health, growth, immunity, and solidifies the relationship between a mother and her child.  

Nonetheless, I really don't want to be visually assaulted by a breast feeding mother and child.  I am not completely opposed to public breast feeding, but, please, ladies--just cover with a blanket.  I have a patient whose mother keeps her in a snuggly-sling contraption, and will whip out the breast when the baby utters any resemblance of a sound.  During her appointment, the baby would turn to me and coo, smile, laugh, etc., trying to get attention.  I wanted to reinforce the baby's socialization.  When I directed my gaze to the baby's direction, while her mother was talking, I was visually bitch-slapped by this huge nipple.  I almost fell out of my chair.  I honestly had nightmares of the nipple afterwards.  Well, this family returned today, and now, the baby is a one-year-old, who still has access to the boob.  Her mother is essentially a dairy, and this child is draining it.  It came time for me to examine the baby, like listening to her vital organs (heart and lungs) and checking reflexes, eyes, ears, etc.  The breast was out and visible.  I tried my best to politely give some time for the baby to finish with the eating process and allow her mother to place the breast/nipple back into the shirt, so it wouldn't be staring at me.  Finally, the breast went back into its proper place, and I was able to listen to the baby's heart.  

I have actually had to hold people's breast milk, before.  Of course, it was in a bottle, but, still--GROSS!!!  A lady on an airplane, to whom my father offered my expert services, was feeding her baby.  I actually got to hear the baby's medical history and there was a bottle of breast milk.  She needed me to hold the bottle--not that she couldn't have used one of those lame retractable tray tables, or anything.  It was pretty disgusting, and I think that some may have actually spilled on my jacket.  One time, it was for a work colleague who finished a marathon session with a breast pump.  I think I double-gloved myself and wore an isolation gown, and placed the bottles in a very thick paper bag, while wearing the protective face mask.

I Went to Houston's Version of Carnival, and all I got was a bottle of water

The Brazilian Arts Foundation in Houston, Texas, celebrated Brazilian Independence Day with much fan fair in the middle of the Theater District.  There were free samba lessons, capoeira demonstrations, performances--none of which I could actually watch.  I celebrated Brazilian Independence Day (even though I am Indian American) by selling beer.  Many people of Brazilian descent and other various ethnic descents purchased many beers from our modest little bar.  One could say I fulfilled a little fantasy of mine, being a quasi-bartender for a night.  I really wanted to juggle the cans of Budweiser, Bud Light, and Bud Select.  Now, a few people actually attempted to speak Portuguese to me, which I did not understand at all.  I even got asked, "Wait, you're not Brazilian?"  Of course, all brown people look alike, I know, yet, I found it very flattering that these old white men would think I would be Brazilian.  Now, I figure, Brazilians are all hot, women and men alike.  Now, if one were to confuse little, Indian me for one of the hot Brazilian chicks, then, if A=B and B=C, then, I must be hot!  Ha, ha. . .  

I realized that men drinking alcohol are very relaxed.  Eventually, they start talking to you.  I also realized that men love women who are selling them booze.  Of course, I really don't drink, because I love to harass drunk people.  However, men really start flirting with women who sell them booze.  I mean, it's not like I was giving it away.  I had to take their four drink tickets.  However, if I would talk to them, they would actually respond.  I flashed my pearly whites, and they reciprocated.  They even laughed at all of my stupid jokes, and, I must confess, they were pretty lame.  I felt like I found the Holy Grail of picking up dudes, since I was a hot, pseudo-Brazilian chick selling expensive cheap booze to semi-intoxicated men for a night.

What Happens in Minneapolis Should Happen Everywhere

The highlight of the Republican National Convention. . .sorry, that is somewhat of an oxymoron. . .is, depending on which Fox News reporter one chooses to follow, was the speech by VP candidate, Governor Sarah Palin.  US Weekly is making claims that there were half-million more viewers of the John McCain acceptance speech compared to the Senator Obama acceptance speech, which was actually much better.  

However, my highlight, which I never really got to experience was the Rage Against the Machine concert at the Target Center.  They entered the stage in their Gitmo attire, with those loud sirens, and then they break into "Bombtrack".  I love the added theatrics of the Gitmo prisoner scenario, probably a metaphor for our country, being imprisoned by the atrocities of the current administration.  In the storm of Obama-bashing, the sun could finally shine with RATM's setlist, which included every hit.  Of course, the whole performance culminated with "Killing in the Name".  The show before ended in a bit of a riot, with fans chanting the mantra, "F--- you, I won't do what you tell me!"  I will admit, that listening to RATM tends to increase around elections for me.  It is easy to really get caught up in the rebellion of the music and the powerful lyrics.  

Frankly, I really could not tolerate John McCain's speech for the entire time.  Finally, when he started in with the POW stuff, I just changed the channel forever.  However, it was fun to see how many times he would start over because he couldn't read the teleprompter.  I could actually read the teleprompter, thank you cameraman.  Of course, McCain wants to bring about "change" and "hope".  I can only hope that he is not elected, otherwise, I will have to change my country of residence.  Actually, I have decided that if, God forbid, McCain were to win, I would just secede from the Union and form my own sovereign nation.  I would prefer a peaceful separation, following the leaders of freedom, like Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Nelson Mandela.  So far, my country would be population: 1--I am not sure I could even get Olympic qualification, unless I could convince Michael Phelps to move to my country.  I would give him free citizenship. . .  

Brief Encounter with the Dark Side

Sarah Palin, John McCain's Vice-Presidential running mate on the Republican ticket, just finished her pep rally power drill with the Republican delegates.  I felt compelled to watch, as we know nothing about her, except she has a pregnant teenage daughter, loves her guns, and is married to a hot, outdoorsy-type guy.  We also are aware of her allegiance to the Neo-Con Christian Right, her pro-life stance, where even a moose wouldn't be neutered.  

She entered the stage with an updated hairstyle for the usual hair-clip bun in the back and a snazzy suit, with jaquard-shiny jacket.  Her daughters and Cindy McCain were also having good hair days.  I was reminded of some sorority sister, campaigning for, like, sorority queen/president, or whatever that office-bearer's name is.  She is promising everything from less government to lower taxes to free beer at the White House.  The most entertaining moment was watching her youngest daughter, Piper, hold the baby, Trig, and smooth out his hair by first licking her hand very effectively and then slicking this poor baby's hair back.  Another camera shot showed Piper picking Trig's eyelash.  They were like chimpanzees, picking lice off of each other and eating them.  This family could either live in Appalachia or the Ozarks, or in the D.C. loop--what a wonderful representation of our moral majority.

Another obsession from today was this older gentleman at the gym working out in the weights area with his bare feet.  At one point, he actually rested his feet on the hand weights.  Fortunately for me, I can't lift the weights he used as a foot stool.  Nonetheless, this whole scenario was rather repulsive.  God only knows what body fluids are on the floor at a gym and what organisms are harboring and breeding on this nasty floor.  I don't even like setting my water bottle on the floor. The barefoot wonder eventually stood next to me, and I wasn't sure if I should run the to the opposite end of the gym or just leave.  I opted to stare out the window--in the opposite direction of the feet.  Now, I assume he must be one of those metro men that gets pedi-mani spa treatments, because his feet actually looked, well nice.

Restoring Honor and DIgnity to . . . My Life??

Today, in the wake of the Republican National Convention and the close of Gustav's recent trek through the Gulf Coast, I actually spent a majority of my day under hypnosis by my computer.  I entered the second of two research protocols into the online program.  These protocols are tedious and arduous, at the hands of the pharmaceutical industry.  We are trying to see if a medication can help some of my patients with improved quality of life.  However, I realize that I really had the drug companies and capitalism.  I feel like a drug whore. . .it makes me feel so cheap and dirty.

Capitalism is the root of evil.  However, if I lived in Cuba, I would have to give up the Banana Republic sales.  I would probably be limited to one iTunes download per 6 month interval.  I also would not be able to own a laptop--I would probably have to share my old Dell laptop with my father, brother, aunts, uncles, and first cousins.  I would only be able to own my one old pair of Gap jeans--my Banana Republic and 7 for all Mankind jeans would be rationed to my friends and family.  I am sure that I could sneak them in and hide them in a bomb shelter from the government.  Of course, as I contemplate giving up my possessions to my loved ones to share wealth in honor of Karl Marx, I am inundated with the Republican National Convention.  There was a plethora of lame speeches beginning with President Bush.  Fred Thompson and Joe Lieberman rounded out the crapfest, which was entertaining, actually.  It is a very monochromatic experience, with an occasional splash of brown to offset the lack of color in the auditorium.  However, the Labor Day weekend had several replays of of of my new favorite shows "Top 20 Political Sex Scandals".  I always love a good sex scandal, and E! channel has redeemed itself.  The number one scandal is that classic with then Governor Elliot Spitzer of New York, a vigilante who brought down many white collar criminals and his thing for prostitutes.  I am amazed with this Emperor's Club "escort" service and the diamond classification system.  I think if I were like a one-diamond, I would just give it up.  I still aspire to be a stripper--maybe I can hook up with an aging C.E.O. of a drug company.

Land of the Lame

Well, Gustav appeared to avoid Houston all together--smart.  I wouldn't come to this craphole, either.  New Orleans is a little more fun and even has a drink named after it's species.  The best part is all of this over-dramatized news coverage.  Like, for example, a hot, concerned, wet Anderson Cooper has been providing minute-by-minute updates on the damage, rain, flooding, wind speed, etc.  He scored an interview with Senator/Future President Barack Obama, as well, grilling Senator Obama with such pressing, provocative questions, such as, "What do you think about the Republicans criticizing you and saying the Governor Palin has more executive experience than you?"  Our Future President had a very thoughtful answer, and also made a point very well.

My friends and I visited one of the touristy, annoying destinations better known as the "Kemah Boardwalk".  It is a popular location for people to take their hyperactive children, high schoolers to gather and cause mayhem, and for couples to have a very special date moment.  There are restuarants, carnival contests, carnival rides (including a roller coaster) and various souvenir shops.  Now, since this is southeast Houston, it is also 95 degrees and fully humid, from the water.  Fortunately, my hair remained perfectly "CHI'd".  However, there was still this layer of filth that landed itself upon me.  It is one of the most annoying places, as there are people everywhere, too.  Many of the people are either trying to appear more trendy and on par with "Young Hollyweird".  It's filthy, slimy, and disgusting there.  The only food options are seafood, obviously, which would have worked about 4 years ago for me.  Thank Goodness for French fries.