Well. It's been a while, huh.

I have been balancing precariously on the edge of Massive Burnout over the last six months or so. God bless it, the fucking MBA will be done in August -- having that done and gone will make every day seem like vacation for a while. I'm about to end the 3rd year of residency, and start the 4th and last. I interviewed for chief resident last month, and the dumb fucks who head our department still haven't officially decided on which of us to bestow with such a title. My fear is that I will have to share it with one of my coworkers, who may be one of the biggest fucking cunts on the planet, which means it will be even more strained and awkward than it is now. Joy. I really haven't actively disliked another human being as much for many years. Selfish, self-righteous, mean, two-faced. And such a fine actress, who lays it on thick when bosses are around -- they think she's just awesome. It kills me, but we only work together for 13 more months, after which she can go to a hick state in the deep South to do a forensics fellowship, and I can stay in a real city and start a normal job, that doesn't involve maggots or rape kits.

I can still smell today's first autopsy on my hands, after many washes with skin-shredding, industrial strength hospital soap. Blech. She had been dead since Thursday. Long holiday weekends are not always good, because these things sit and rot until we get to them Tuesday. I know autopsy makes for good party conversation, but I will be so so so glad when I don't have to do them anymore. I need 50 to be board-eligible, and today's make number 43 and 44, I think. The dissection and actual physical work is fine, it's the reams of paperwork that haunt me for the following three months that I deeply and greatly despise.

There was supposed to be a cute picture of myself and my partner here, but it's not showing up. I think the photo inserting process on SG is just bullshit, and I'm also sorry you have to right click to see all the kitty goodness in this post.

We have been bickering like little bitches lately. He is stressed. I am stressed. Collectively, we need a wife. We simply do not have the bandwidth to tend to the administrative duties associated with running a household. I don't know how people with kids do it -- I really, really have no clue. Xanax, I guess.



Why the cat totally adores panties, clean or dirty, is beyond me. You'd think the clean ones wouldn't be as exciting, but evidently she thinks otherwise.



On the up side, Sprinkles cupcakes finally, finally, FINALLY opened in town. Being from Beverly Hills, they are fucking expensive ($20 for 6) but very delicious. Any cupcake is good, but these were especially tasty. The red velvet was just superior, although I think this one is lemon:


We went the first weekend they were open, and oh my god, the pandemonium! You'd think they were giving the fucking things away, and in a city full of starved anorectics, that is somewhat oxymoronic. There was thousands and thousands of dollars' worth of plastic surgery and very nice handbags squeezed into one wee shop, panting for cupcakes. There was this one girl (admittedly, hot) who even showed up in a thong bikini. And flip-flops. That's it. To stand in line for cupcakes. It was not so very hot out that day, and I was a little confused.



My friends and I are going to try to get Madonna tickets for Vegas in November. It may not work out, but I think we're still gonna go anyway. I can go lez it up with all my adorable dykealicious friends for a weekend. Hot tubs and cocktails and cute girls, oh my.

What kind of cocktail should I make tonight?

*** A quick edit to say that a) I made mojitos and b) after mentioning offhand in a conversation to my (revoltingly wealthy and still smitten) ex today at work that I can't buy Madonna tickets till Saturday, when they will probably all be sold out, that big lug went and BOUGHT two tickets for me. And not the $75, general admission ones -- the high-roller, $375 ones. It just made my day. Squee!!!!