Corazon hermoso y burrito perfecto

No substantive update right now, just reporting that my echocardiogram went very well. Ultrasounds of the heart are so much cooler than abdominal ultrasounds--you can actually see stuff. The tech and cardiology fellow she was training were very sweet and funny: they kept calling my heart "beautiful." Like "Look at that left ventricle ... beautiful!" I haven't heard back from the cardiologist yet, but I'm guessing that "beautiful" means a healthy, normal heart, just as we expected. It was maybe a waste of a procedure, but it's nice to know that nothing's wrong, and Sean and I got to have lunch at the med school carts ... mmmm ... perfect burrito.

But you don't have to take my word for it ...

Seriously, go see Ratatouille for yourself. It is the best movie I've seen in a long time. Sean and I both love it and think everyone should go see it. Yeah, we tend to enjoy fine children's programming--we had regular dates to watch Fraggle Rock together when we were courting, and the first movie we watched overandover was Lilo and Stitch--but please trust me when I say this isn't just a kids' movie. It's beautifully animated, funny and romantic, all around a great date and a great time in general.

This post would be unrelated to the subject of P:B, except that it was part of truly wonderful weekend with Sean. We went to the beach, ate a great deal of fresh fish at a seafood shack, bought some clams and took them home to cook up with some spaghetti. We also went out for sushi, which I don't think we've done since we lived in Texas. We relaxed and enjoyed each other's company without the spectre of Greek class looming over us. Good, good times.

I'm just saying ... Ratatouille.

το τελος (that's what she said!)

So this is mostly just an advertisement for a neat little Unicode Greek input script that I found after reading Annie's last post. Frankly, Annie left me in the dust weeks ago, and without my textbook, I'm afraid I can't translate her title, let alone her closer.

While Annie paints my perspective on P:B as sort of zenlike, I should admit that it's probably more selfishpragmatic than that. We're coming up on one year of marriage in August, and roughly 2 years of interstate romance. (Turnpike romance doesn't really have the same ring, does it?) So, if it takes a while before we're parents — whether the old fashioned way, or through adoption or audioanimatronics — I'm glad to enjoy spending that time with my wife, being newlyweds. Certainly willing to put the time into trying, so to speak: have I ever told you the wonders Annie can work with a positronic matrix? Either way, we win.

“Goodnight, Irene”?

To telos

I tried to copy and paste in my neat Greek font, but it didn't work. You get the idea, though. It is to telos, the end of summer Greek. I am feeling a little low on adrenaline, post-exam. I think it would be a good idea for hypothetical baby to learn Greek while his brain is spongy ... of course, I also think that about sign language and Spanish ... what do you all think? Which languages should we inflict on our baby?

Sean and I have recently made plans to celebrate our 1 year wedding anniversary by taking in the roller coasters at Hershey Park. We thought about the Poconos but decided that the heart-shaped jacuzzi and round, mirrored king bed could wait until we have kids and need a getaway weekend. For now, we can enjoy being two adult theme-park goers with long legs and patience for waiting in lines, and I can ride as many coasters as I want to (a benefit of not being pregnant yet.) We're also going to spend some time exploring New Jersey. Don't snicker ... it's going to be beautiful!

I go through phases in which I'm really optimistic about our chances of getting pregnant, and then there are times when I feel like, yeah, this really isn't going to happen. As with most things, Sean helps me put it all into perspective: we may get pregnant, he says, or we may not. Either way, this time we have with just the two of us will be fun, and maybe someday we'll adopt. It's going to work out, no hurry necessary. Sometimes I yearn for instant gratification, but no matter how you go about it, having a baby isn't an instantly gratifying thing (you know, that whole nine months thing, maybe even more time for adoption.) I'd venture that it's less the gratification of microwave popcorn and more the gratification of slow-cooked pork. Mmmmmm... pork sandwich. This child will be delicious!

Thanks to all who've been there for me--through the Internets or otherwise--during this tough time. I went through this crazy lonely phase and I'm just peeking my head out from it now, thanks in great part to my summer roomie, Kat, helping me get out of the house now and then. And tonight is Harry Potter! I know it won't exactly be a cheerful movie, but I am cheerful at the thought of seeing it.

And now, I think I've earned an afternoon nap. Time to clear the study aids off my bed. Erxesthe en irene!

Cupcake therapy

We've gone a long time without posting. Unfortunately, it's not because we're holding our breath and waiting the appropriate time before announcing that we're having a baby. I'm not pregnant, and the whole project may be on hold for a bit. But backing up to why we haven't posted ...
Jason, a cousin I've adored my whole life, killed himself on June 19. My grandpa correctly called it a tragedy--Jason's sister pointed out that it's the only tragedy our generation has ever personally experienced. While my family is interesting and complicated enough to double as a genogram glossary, nothing really bad has happened since my dad's mom died young of breast cancer and my mom's dad died young of lung cancer (both before I was born.) My Umma (mom's mom) died when I was 11, but that was after a 17-month good-bye, before the real pain of cancer set in, and while she was still living independently. I still cry about it sometimes and will suddenly miss her like crazy, but I can recognize that it was pretty close to "the good death."
I don't think there's anything good about Jason being dead. That's not Pastor Anne talking, that's Jason's little cousin. Who is angry and really, really sad. I can intellectually appreciate the argument that he's not living in misery any more, but my body rejects that reasoning. I'm not worried at all about his soul--I just wish he wasn't dead.
The good came in the way our family came together, doing just what a family is supposed to do--taking turns taking care of each other, taking turns leaning on each other for comfort. I was reminded that I love them very, very much. The good is also in our memories of Jason, which we shared along with a huge number of pictures.
On the ride back to Connecticut from the funeral, my legs--which had been aching all week--began throbbing with pain and my feet swelled up. Sean and I sang for the last two hours of the trip to help distract me. Still in our funeral clothes, we drove straight to Student Health, thinking they'd give me a diuretic for the swelling. They sent us to the emergency room, and 8 hours later they'd ruled out kidney failure (whew!) and blood clots, but wanted me to follow up some abnormal blood flow they found on the ultrasound. I'm going to have a cardiology work up and an abdominal ultrasound to make sure everything's OK with the remnant tumor and my heart--although I'm pretty convinced that it was all from too much salt, standing, and dehydration. My legs are still achey, but the swelling is gone; I'm not worried. But, if there is something wrong, it's probably good that I'm not pregnant.
To work through all this I've been baking. I've made strawberry cupcakes with strawberry cream cheese frosting, Texas sheet cake, chocolate cupcakes with strawberry cream cheese frosting, buttermilk shortcakes and blueberry/lemon cupcakes with lemon cream cheese frosting. All were quite good and most of it went to my Greek class. I think I'm ready now, though, to be less productive in my sadness. I am grateful for the voices of my pastoral care profs that (in my head) tell me what I'm feeling is normal and OK. Knowing these things, having read those books, I still don't know what to do with this grief.