mud pies to medicine: Pumpkins and Homecoming

Friday, October 28, 2011

Pumpkins and Homecoming

There are only a few things getting me through our neuro block with a dash of sanity. There are the usual substances: sugar, caffeine, study breaks. We learned about the Premack Principle in our Cognitive Behavioral Therapy Lecture (I'm just trying to sound smart) which is basically something everyone does. Using a desired behavior to reinforce a less desired one: i.e. "I can't take a coffee break until I finish this task". Somehow in medical school this gets warped into a scarier system. There is the more reward system, "I can't watch Grey's Anatomy until I finish this lecture", the normal "I can't make lunch until I finish this lecture", the strange "I can't pee until I finish this lecture", and the just plain scary "I can't clean my room until I finish this lecture". You know you hate studying when cleaning your apartment is more appealing than learning neuro. But there have been a few more rewarding things recently that have taken my mind off studying my brain.

1. Pinterest: If you aren't addicted yet, you might have a Y chromosome. I found this amazing baked potato soup recipe that warmed my soul. Recipe Here

And with Pinterest comes this fall's greateast obsession...

2. PUMPKIN: It's in everything. Seriously. People are carving them, eating them, painting them, roasting them, eating out of them, using them as vases.

Pumpkin Vase via my boyfriend

It's insane. If you haven't consumed pumpkin this fall you're either allergic, a recluse, or live outside the continental US. I recently made Pumpkin Stuff/Dump Cake/Goo.

This is truly fantastic and super easy. Just take 3 eggs, 1 can sweetened condensed milk, and 1 can Libby's pumpkin puree and mix until smooth. Poor into large, greased, glass pan. Sprinkle Spice Cake mix on top (sounds weird, I know, just do it!). Pour 2 sticks melted butter over the whole thing. Sprinkle on chopped pecans. Cook for 1 hour at 350 degrees. It smells so delicious, my mom says it feels like 3 hours. Top the with ice cream and devour! It is really rich. I went into a food coma after having this and the potato soup.

3. Homecoming: I went to Villanova, I'm a huge fan, and I love going back to see my old friends. It was a rather tumultuous weekend for other reasons but I really enjoyed being there, even if it meant spending the football game studying at my favorite coffee shop. Psh, I enjoyed sitting in a place with some character (The Gryphon is hipster heaven on Philly's mainline) and consuming a beautiful latte, even if it meant listening to MD/PhD's drone on about neuro.


it's beauteous

And on top of that, Villanova is freaking gorgeous.

It seems I just used my procrastination time efficiently this evening. Time to pretend to be productive!

Besitos!

No comments:

Post a Comment

The inspiration you ask?

I miss making mud pies. There is this huge rock in my front yard. To call it a rock really does it a dishonor. It is a boulder, brought home by my father on a huge dump truck after he blasted it out of a work site. My mom one day told me that even though it is nearly 2.5 feet high, 6 feet long, and 2.5 feet wide, that it was, in fact, only half-showing. The scientist inside of me was disbelieving and set out to get some proof. Clad in a dress, bow in my hair, and my best accessory, a shovel, I trudged outside ready to prove my mother wrong. That is when the digging began. I dug, and dug, and dug, and nearly all 3.5 feet of Danielle fit in that hole when I had reached the bottom of the rock. That became my digging spot, my mud pie kitchen. Each day it was dug, and each evening it was filled back in. Sometimes the holes were small, sometimes they were enormous, and most days the hole was turned into my mud mixing bowl with that rock as my counter. The novelty never wore off. The ebb and flow of my childhood was, in many ways, measured by the ever-changing depth of that hole in the front yard, the hole that never really disappeared even each day after it was filled in. Even though the grass has grown back in that spot, there still remains, an indentation, the scars of a childhood well lived and the disbelieving scientists I have always been.

So, you ask me why I want to be a doctor? I do not want to be a doctor. I want to open a mud pie bakery with the cash register on that rock in my front yard. But, somehow, I doubt I would stay in business long, for the world seems to have lost its taste for mud pies. I guess being a doctor will have to do.