I Could Seriously Go For Some Ice Cream After Writing This Post

    Whenever the subject of celebrity crushes comes up, two names always get mentioned when you converse with me. Jennifer Aniston, the lovely Rachel from Friends - America's sweetheart, and Demi Moore, the stripper fighting for her daughter's custody in Striptease, and one of the few women who actually look better than her husband when they are both bald. One thing they have in common is that they both look better now, in their 40s (42 and 49, respectively), than they did in their 20s. Granted, they both have personal trainers and rigorous routines and I think Demi's daily food intake consists of little more than an orange (I know she ate a burger recently at a photo shoot, but it's funnier to say it that way), but it definitely pays off for them. They're gorgeous.
    And the nice thing is, for the most part they've been good celebrities. They don't party too hard, they keep it fun but fairly modest. They've both had divorces from actors I like and have gotten involved with guys I'm not a fan of (I love John Mayer's music - it's unfortunate he's a douche; I've never liked Ashton Kutcher, whatever). But recent events have put one certifiably over the other...
    Demi Moore was recently sent to the hospital. I really hope she's okay, I wish harm on no one. But rumor has it that she was sent to the hospital after doing "Whip-Its" or "whippets." Have you all heard about this? Apparently you snort the nitrous oxide out of a can of whipped cream, and you end up with a full can of whipped cream that doesn't work (for the parents that want to make sure their kids aren't addicts).
    This is the stupidest idea I've ever heard. Are people so desperate to get high that they've tainted the sanctity of whipped cream? Doesn't whipped cream give you enough joy as it is? I mean...why wouldn't you just eat it, and get a natural high? I mean, if you really want to alter your mental state, they make alcohol-infused whipped cream (the chocolate variety is delicious) (I can't even imagine what snorting that would do to you).
    I feel like Demi would have someone in her life telling her that this is a bad idea. Heck, if you don't have anyone in your life that would tell you this is a bad idea...go find some new friends. And stop being stupid. I myself am immensely thankful for the friends I have. When I first found out about this incident, I was with a great group of people, and I am confident that Nikhil, Zach, Peter, Christina, and many others would definitely stop me from doing something as dumb as "whippets." Nushin is probably already doing them and I need to hold an intervention (to all readers, I'm sorry, Nikhil was having nightmares because I hadn't mentioned him in a blog post, and he and the others are very important in my life).
    Again, I wish Demi a swift recovery, and hope that people will see her as an example and use their whipped cream properly.
    And to Demi or Jennifer - if either of you would like to debate the merits or faults of this decision, please don't hesitate to contact me. I'll be waiting.

Things You'll Find on the Island, Or A Series of Links

I know lately I've been trying the "incorporate a lesson into my blog posts" thing, but that's really not why I started this blog. I kind of wanted to just put my musings and scattered thoughts somewhere. I have amazing friends who I can talk to about anything, but I can't always be random-tangenting into topics I want to discuss. Though once in a while, I do that...

Anyway, I wanted to write today just about some things that give me joy. At this point in the semester, we're taking exams every Monday for the first six weeks. So Monday nights I take a little time off. :)

Most people who know me and talk to me for more than 5 minutes, or sit in my car for more than 60 seconds, get to know that I love jazz. All jazz. Big band, small group, electric, acoustic, modern, classic, fusion, and more. One of my least favorite varieties is vocal jazz. Don't get me wrong, I've played with some amazing vocalists. If you're ever in the Minnesota area, or just want to hear an amazing voice, check out my old friend Laura Ellen. She's one of the best. Lately, I've been giving an immense amount of iPod time to a vocalist or two that I heard on Jazz.FM, my favorite radio station. Canadian vocalist Shannon Butcher was played the one day, singing what might be the happiest song I've ever heard. I later downloaded her latest album on iTunes, and it's fantastic. From the first track "Joy In My Heart," (seriously, I think singing it too much might make me poop butterflies) to the cover of Bryan Adams' "Run To You," and all the other tracks, it's great. Tight rhythm section, fun tunes, and to top it all off, she has a lovely voice.

Words With Friends. I know it's clichéd, but I just started playing it a couple weeks ago. And it's amazing. At first it was taking up too much of my life, and I was afraid my studies would slip. But I've downregulated my time spent there to just once a day or every other day, so it's a nice distraction without keeping me away from studying too much. I like that it stimulates me to get creative. Though I swear some of those words are fake. I mean, what the heck is "zeks"?

While watching the commercial for this new movie, halfway through I thought to myself...this movie can only be called "Man On A Ledge." Anything else...and I will be severely disappointed.

I defy you to listen to this song and not get it immediately stuck in your head. Special thanks to my good friend and mentor, Aaron, for that. Sorry for putting herpes on your Facebook wall.

And for yet another musical thought - dubstep. I know most people like to jam out and dance to dubstep, but I can't get enough when I'm studying. My friend Eric turned me on to The Glitch Mob and since then, that station on Pandora has been my study soundtrack for most of medical school thus far. And from there, I found the group Emancipator. Like chill stuff? Check out their page, download the free stuff. Then go pay for the album. As one decidedly amateur reviewer so eloquently put it, “Um, it’s really pretty, but like with SICK beats.”

As I write this post, I realize that I'm sounding a little like my sister Jocelin's writing. She and I have a very chicken-and-egg thing going on where we act a lot alike, but sometimes even we're unsure which one of us started a particular behavioral quirk. But she's a pretty cool person, weirdo that she is. ;)

So that's some stuff that I've been digging lately. Hopefully you enjoy it too, and we can talk about it.

Also, can anyone recommend a good beard trimmer?

Renew, Rejuvenate, Recycle

Happy New Year!


Well, so much for keeping up steady posting during school.
I'll say this, I can't really blame myself. One of my classmates said it best on the morning of our last final when he said, "This semester...felt like it was a year long." And it certainly did. Since my last post, we flew at the speed of light through an array of somewhat interrelated subjects through the insanity that was Fundamentals I and II. Learned skills of how to deal with difficult patients suffering from physical as well as emotional pain in Clinical Practice of Medicine. Felt like doctors as we fulfilled our assignments of talking to patients in the real world with our preceptors ensuring our progress. And of course, the dreaded yet amazing tour de force that was anatomy. But we made it through, and without too much damage. Over a quick hurdle of biostatistics that our exhausted minds only barely absorbed, and then into the sweet freedom of winter break to renew our mental strength and capacity for next semester.

But as exhausting as the semester was - reducing some of us to tears, some to fits of fried laughter, and some to numbness - I and most of my classmates would not have had it any other way. We were exactly where we wanted to be. And it's worth the craziness.
But that's not what I'm writing about today. I find myself thinking about how, in addition to rejuvenating my brain, this winter break has been a major time of renewal for me.
I renewed my connections with my extended family over Christmas weekend. I have a big extended family - 29 first cousins! (I'll pause a moment while you gasp.) I absolutely love it. Since they range from ages 5 to 30-something, I relate to some of them better than others, but it's always a happy moment when I can see any of them, usually because a significant amount of time passes between such occasions. It's great to catch up with them. I have older cousins who have forged a path into the medical field (we're Indian, big surprise) who now tell me war stories of their time in medical school, and give me advice on where to go from here. I also have younger cousins who look to me for guidance - at least, they would if I saw them more, to my regret. But more than that, we just have a good time in each other's company - watching movies, trading stories, talking about how silly or wise our parents are, and (in my family's case) playing the couch game (I'll explain later). Being with them is always awesome, and one of my goals for the future is to see them more, or at least keep in touch better.


I also renewed my connection with the house in which I grew up. We just had all of our hardwood floors redone, and there are few things that make you see a room more differently than taking all the furniture (and everything associated with that furniture) out of it. "Were those walls always pink?" "Where did this rug come from?" "Oh, that's where I lost that shirt!"

And then I reconnected with Richard Marx. Not in person, I've never met the guy, though I'd like to some day. I know what you're thinking now - "Who's Richard Marx?" Check out his songwriting and production discography and you're bound to recognize one-third to one-half of the names. Richard Marx's self-titled album was the first music I ever owned - my father handed the audio cassette to me, I slapped it into my Walkman, and that was that. My cousins will tell you how I used to listen to that tape almost obsessively, and in retrospect I was pretty ridiculous. But I just found something relevant in his music, something spoke to me. In addition to writing songs for other artists, he's put out several albums of his own over the last 23 years, and just recently released "Stories to Tell," a compilation album with acoustic and electric re-recordings of songs he wrote for himself and for others. And on top of that, he actually replied to one of my Tweets! I reacted quite calmly on Twitter, simply re-Tweeting it, but I was definitely doing a little dance when I saw it.

And finally...I know most avid readers like myself use their downtime to get into amazing new series like "The Hunger Games" or great biographies or instant classics or the next Tom Clancy or John Grisham book. Me? I chose to use this time to reconnect with The Animorphs. Mostly due to the fact that my friend Juliana keeps insisting that I should finish them, and I like the satisfaction of finishing a series. So I picked up where I left off at book 19 and am continuing all the way through #54.

All of these renewals had something in common: there was some level of change involved in my experience. Many of my cousins, the ones who watched over me and influenced me in my childhood, have children of their own now, all in the age range of 1-7. The last time I was in that full of a house for Christmas, surrounded by running children...I was one of the running children. I love kids, I always have. And it's interesting to see the other side of these interactions - to be the one watching over them as they have adventures by the couches, the monster that they need to fight, or the airplane to help them fly into the next room. It's no preparation for actually raising children, but it does make me look forward to the idea...but not for a while.

Meanwhile, inside the house, our living room, dining room, my parents' bedroom, and all the kids rooms look radically different. Partially because with Robin now being the principle child of the house and me only visiting on major holidays, my parents moved her into my old room and me into her smaller one. That's different. But just the feel of the rooms is different now. They're cleaner, for sure, but the shiner floors and some new furniture bring a new essence to them. It's unfamiliar, but it's like a rebirth. Like I'm exploring the rooms for the first time, in a new leather cockpit and new shiny wood and glass control panels and a much cleaner interior. Though, for those of you that have seen my living room before...the giant picture of Jesus is still in the same place. :)

Richard Marx's latest album has a disc of reworked versions of his classic hits, as well as recordings of some of the songs he's written for other artists. I was always Backstreet Boys over N*Sync, but I really enjoy Marx's versions of "This I Promise You." Marx spent most of the '90s in the Adult Contemporary section, but he's brought out more of his modern rock side in the 2000s, returning to his roots but adapting to the times. And I love artists that do that. (Side note on comebacks and adapations: While I agree that Madonna could make a very successful comeback, who thought it was a good idea to have her do the Super Bowl halftime show? I don't wish unemployment on anyone, but I kinda hope that person was fired.)

And the Animorphs? Well, in middle school - the last time I picked these books up - they were just entertaining books. But now, in my 20s, I see much more in the books. I mean, I hate eisegesis as much as the next guy, so I'll try to avoid that. But in addition to seeing how much K.A. Applegate influenced my own writing, I was astonished to see the depth in the stories. The middle school kid heroes of the series have aged greatly in the course of 30 books. Applegate has effectively captured the battle-ravaged minds of warriors who have seen death, betrayal, and genocide, and combined it with the angst and insecurity of the entry into adolescence. And then she condensed all these enough that middle school readers could understand. Take that, Stephenie Meyer. If you'd like to join Juliana and me in discussing and debating these books, let me know. :)

I used to be very big on tradition and lack of change. While I still struggle with it a little bit, I realized a few years ago that change can be an amazing thing. Sure, some traditions are good, and when something's being done right, there's no need to change it for change's sake. But one has to be able to adapt to change when it does come. All of these renewals I've experienced have only helped to reinforce that. Whether it's sharing new life experiences and the joy of children, or breathing new life into an old room, or giving an old song new life, or finishing the story of the battle to save the Earth, or just renewing yourself for the next round of medical school, there is no problem with revisiting the old. But don't be afraid to look at it differently, since there's a good chance you'll find something amazing in it.

Trying To Spread My Overabundance of Optimism

Well, we're in the thick of it now.


Two molecular biology exams, a histology exam, and we just finished our fourth exam - the big one - the first block of Anatomy. The entire musculoskeletal anatomy from the neck down. Origins and insertions of the muscles, nerve innervations, blood supply, ligaments and tendons, lymph node locations, and more.

That's right. All of it. Whoo boy. Allow me to point out now that medical students may relate to this post a lot more, but I hope that anyone who reads it enjoys it for what it's worth.

But we somehow made it through, and had one of the most relaxing weekends we all have ever had. Hence, I am writing a blog entry. I actually started this entry about a week and three days ago, after the third exam, but due to the immense amount of studying I had to do for the next exam (and the fact that the Buffalo Bar Crawl was that night) I ended up putting it off. But here I am again, and I can remember the feelings I had that night as if it was yesterday.

I had walked out of that biochem exam at around 12:30ish, mentally exhausted but unable to rest because I had to go straight to my preceptor's office to shadow the doctor there and try to practice what few clinical skills I had. I had had a long week with two exams, as had the rest of my 143 classmates, and I really just wanted to go home and sleep, with a dim idea of attending the Bar Crawl and a despair stemming from the thought that I would need to wake up early the next morning to start studying for Anatomy. I stood there for a few minutes with some classmates who had also left the exam, discussing answers and wincing every time I realized I had gotten one wrong, and then left because I remembered that I had to stop at the bookstore to pick up a lanyard on which to put my medical school ID card. I remember wondering why I had chosen to put myself through this...why all 144 of us, the ones that did incredible on the exam and the ones that did less than incredible, the ones who smoked the anatomy exam like a holiday ham and the ones who got spanked with it, the ones who rock every encounter with a standardized patient and the ones who are still uncomfortable...why are we doing this to ourselves? Why the torture and the mental exhaustion, and the 19-hour days where you come home at 2 AM reeking of formaldehyde and Taco Bell? (Note: That second part might be just me.)

This question was answered by two things that afternoon. The first was as I reached my car, already dressed in a dress shirt, pants, shoes, and tie. I headed to the bookstore and picked up a lanyard, clipped my medical school ID card to it, and slipped it over my head...and then I went to my car and put on my white coat.
Now, I am aware that I am still just a medical student ("just?"), not an actual doctor. I am aware that I have only scratched the surface of treating patients. And I am aware that I am a little conceited. But as second-year med student (and my best friend) Ketan put it, "The white coat is designed to make people look good." And I must say...putting on that coat felt pretty good.

Immediately my day picked up a bit, but I still felt fried. How was I going to be enthusiastic for my preceptor, and for his patients? Well...it turns out that I would have a little help. Arriving at Dr. Stephan's office, I was immediately led back to the office kitchen (where the staff had been given lunch by a pharmaceutical representative) and introduced to the tall and imposing yet soft-spoken doctor who I will follow this semester. From the very first patient he took me beyond what was supposed to be an observational role - he had me assist in minor procedures he conducted, guided me through parts of the physical exam to observe abnormalities he found, and encouraged me to ask any questions of him or the patients.

Now, that's just a great preceptor, who is enthusiastic about his students - I had hoped for as much (and I know not all of them are like that). But the thing that really got to me was something that I had been told about but had never actually expected: the patients were really enthusiastic about me being there. Some of them were in too much pain or discomfort to care, but they were still happy to answer my questions, let me see what was happening in or on their bodies, and do anything they could to help train and advise a future doctor. For much of the morning I had been in a dense fog of biochemical pathways, histological sections, and anatomical figures. Still, with the very first patient I saw, the fog lifted, and I truly realized for the first time the incredible responsibility I have towards these patients and their bodies and minds, and how much they trust me. For me, that was not intimidating...rather, that is what makes all of this worthwhile.

I realize that I had a great day and that there will be bad ones (to those that have already had those...I'm so sorry). There will be difficult patients and coworkers and insurance crises and all of that. But does the good outweigh the bad? I'm betting it does. Maybe I'm too much of an optimist, but I really believe in that.

The experience puts things in perspective. So even though I spent the next week studying anatomy until I was blue in the face (which is really hard for a brown man), I kept my head up. And over the last week, I took pleasure in the fact that I have had time to chill out with my friends. I have enjoyed the little things in life, like a classmate's homemade carrot cake or apple pie, or the sound of a new jazz album. But all the while I have kept these feelings in mind.

So to the patients I met that day: Thank you.

To my fellow medical students, dental students, and any students who are wondering why they are doing what they're doing: most of the patients/constituents/customers/clients really do trust you, which is an amazing feeling, and I hope we all take it as seriously and with as much gratitude in twenty years as we do now.

And to the med students: you look damn fine in your white coat.

Thus Starts a New Season of the Seriocomical TV Show That is My Life

I was inspired to write this blog post because I started running yesterday. I have a bad habit of wanting to get back into running, and then actually doing so for a few days to a week, only to drop it again when things gets busy and I feel compelled to do other "more important" things with my time. Which, as with many of us, happens often. This is shaping up to be another one of those times, but I'm only on day 2. Anyway, I went running down the bike path at UB's North Campus (a great running/biking area right next to where I now live) and as I came back, I saw this little ten-foot path that went into a tiny clearing with some well-placed rocks for sitting or whatever. And in the path, there was a rabbit. He hopped into the center of the path and just stood there, one little eye staring as the weary jogger walked by, trying to shrug off back pain (incidentally - don't try running with non-running shoes - using your everyday worn-out sneakers SUCKS). Then today, I went running again, along the same route (this time with my running shoes and it was amazingly better) and the rabbit was again in the center of that little ten-foot path into the clearing. And on my way back...it was still there. As I went by (jogging this time), I realized this phenomenon and doubled back to look again at the rabbit, thinking it may have tried to settle in right there.

And it was gone, off to find a new path. Go figure.

And I'm pretty sure that little tale has nothing to do with the rest of this post. But it was kinda crazy. So now, post-run, I sit here in Timmy Ho's drinking a large raspberry iced tea that is seriously hitting the spot, and reflecting on the week that has been. My first week of medical school. I have actually been dreaming about this for most of my life, with the usual questions - what will it be like? Will I be overwhelmed or find it easy? Will I know what to do? Will I have good friends during my time? Will I make it through alive? And how will it change me?

Well, it's already looking like it will be overwhelming. But a healthy dose of overwhelming. I didn't really know what to do at first, but we're all in the same boat that way, all of us med students. Between the professor in charge of the lab screaming at us to respect the cadavers (with good reason) and taking a total of 2 hours to talk to us about things that really could have been explained in 30 minutes...to the absolute and utter disarray that was the introduction to our new technology...to the injuries our classmates suffered during orientation (proving once and for all that the amoeba race is not a wise game to play)...to the White Coat Ceremony in front of our families and friends...to the general craziness that is a first week at a new school. From the highest joys and pride in our accomplishments, to the excited terror in front of a new cadaver, we are all entering a new and amazing time in our lives.
And yeah...there are a lot of cool people in my class.
There's the girl who I offered to help with her move-in. I decided to impress her with my heavy box-carrying skills and my knowledge of the streets of Buffalo...and then proceeded to make a wrong turn and take a twice-as-long route back to her apartment, and almost killed her in the process when I made a hasty turn that forced her to cut off a semi truck.
There's the four or five people who I've come to know extremely well over the last four years as my friends and classmates as we went through the craziness of the Biomedical Sciences major and pre-med classes at UB - one of whom is now a bandmate, and one of whom I am particularly close with as we fought many a hard battle in the trenches that were the Early Assurance Program for Medicine at UB - going so far as to take ALL of the same classes one semester, and going through interviews, nervous breakdowns, and joyous celebrations when we got in. All four or five are some of the smartest people I know, and many others in my class are soon to join that list, and I look forward to being challenged and encouraged by them.
There's the splendid organizer who almost single-handedly has been responsible for getting many of the new med students to get out and experience Buffalo, and more than just its bars.
There's the super-tall guy. He's great in a lot of ways, including personality, but when I first met him all I could think of his "Holy crap, he's tall!"
There's the gentleman whose laugh is becoming famous throughout the ears of all our classmates.
There's a great many Buffalonians who have been here for many years or are just coming back after undergrad elsewhere, and who share my love for this fine city and all its idiosyncrasies.
There are the people who didn't attend UB undergrad but also interviewed Early Assurance with me - one of whom I think only remembers me because, despite all my nervousness that day, she saw me start to nod off while Dr. Severin gave us the pre-interview talk. I still to this day hope and pray that he didn't see me and/or doesn't remember it.
There are the people who are slowly making me realize how little I've scratched the surface of the concept of long-term and healthy relationships.
There are the members of my lab group that may kill me at some point because I'm way too perky at 9 AM when we're dissecting a human body.
There's the girl who is as excited about jazz as I am. I'm really glad your apartment is okay after that fire.
And there's everyone who came out to see Mayday, the band I play in, rock the crap out of the Buckin' Buffalo Saloon. One of my favorite things in the whole world is playing music for my friends that they enjoy. And the bachelorettes were hilarious, too. 
And so many more that I would love to mention but if I tried to go through all of them, I would go on and on for pages and pages. And this entry is probably long enough.

I'm excited to get to know more and more of my classmates, and work hard alongside them as we strive to make it through the next four or five years together. It's going to be intense, but amazing, too. Will we make it out alive? Probably. Will these new friends I have (and I) be the same people? Absolutely not. Somewhere in the next four years we will surely find our calling, and it will definitely change us. So at this point we are like that rabbit, disappearing off into the unknown to start the rest of our lives.

See what I did there?

Two Thank-Yous, An Apology, and a Lesson

Even the proudest experience can turn humbling.

Back in May I started this blog, just a week after undergoing the nostalgic and celebratory craziness that is college graduation. I've been meaning to write about my experiences from that weekend. Actually, one experience in particular that really left a mark on me...

Yup, that's broken glass.

And I wasn't sure what lesson to take from it. And more importantly, I didn't know how to put a humorous spin on it and create a good blog post about it. Special thanks to my good friend Chelsey for helping me talk my way into learning something.

There were a lot of things that helped define my college career. A great UB education, surrounded by awesome people in my major that pushed me to do well in our classes together, and a great circle of friends. But one of the most significant aspects of my time at UB was my leadership: Helping to lead the Residence Hall Association, interacting with other leaders there and with Mortar Board Honor Society, leading jazz band rhythm sections and more. And yes, maybe I worked too hard on leadership things, to the point where it detracted from my academics. Maybe I could have gotten better grades if I had devoted more brainpower to my studies, but looking back...I don't think I would have changed anything. I learned a lot, both in books and out of them, and I had amazing times with my friends. But I digress. A lot.

Anyway, in early March I was chillin' in the Center for Student Leadership and Community Engagement (which I was doing a lot during the year), when the director asked me if I'd received a letter from UB's most beloved "silver fox" (named by female friends of mine), the VP of Student Affairs Dennis Black. I replied that I had not, to which she responded "Okay, let me know when you do." And then she walked away. Leaving me very confused.

Eventually I was told that I was going to be recognized at the College of Arts & Sciences graduation ceremony with the VP Student Award for Senior Leadership. I felt honored. Dennis said some nice things about me, people cheered, and it was an amazing experience.
So I would like to thank the Department of Student Affairs for giving me that award. It was beautiful.

And I'm really, really sorry I dropped it. And shattered it. In the last ten minutes of the graduation ceremony.
It slipped!

And thank you again, Student Affairs, both for worrying that I would cut myself and taking away most of the shattered pieces, and for giving me a new award. One that is twice as thick as its predecessor.

So far this post has basically been an exercise in expressing arrogance, and for that I apologize. But I did learn something that I hope everyone bears in mind - a humorous lesson, but a lesson nonetheless. No matter how much we succeed, and no matter how amazing a leader can become...he/she can still do stupid things, have silly moments, and in general, make a fool of him-/herself. Those are the experiences that bring us back down to earth. We need those moments to keep us humble, and thereby keep us human.

That's why I keep those two pieces of glass - the only parts of the original award I have left. They remind me that I will always make mistakes, so while I can be proud of my accomplishments, I shouldn't let my successes go to my head. Gotta stay on my toes.

So what are your pieces of glass?

We've Got the Hashtag Fever...Do the Hashtag Dance...Hashtag This...

Most people that know me know that I text like a fiend. And most of those people know that I have recently and heavily embraced Twitter and all its Twitter-ness. I am twitterpated with Twitter, basically, complete with lame hashtags and useless updates that hopefully are funny every once in a while.

The other day I had a conversation (again over text message) with one of the three musical acts with whom I have been playing this summer, the vertically challenged but immensely talented Sara Elizabeth (see her Facebook page and check out a sample of us at this YouTube video). Sara also greatly enjoys texting and Tweeting, and this conversation (among others) helped us realize that we may be too attached to our social technologies (WARNING: What follows is pathetically funny. Or just pathetic...hopefully the former).

Joe: Where's Saturday's gig?

Sara: Goodrich Coffe & Tea.

Joe: Ah, right. Cool beans.

Joe: Or hot beans, depending on how you like your coffee. #badpun

Sara: Iced beanz #totesmostdef

Joe: Hellz yeah! #Godwearelame Fwd: From Sara Genco Iced beanz #totesmostdef (I did this in order to use the texting equivalent of a Retweet)

Sara: #unstoppablepowerofnerdywhitegirlandindianboy #ilovecoffee

Joe: Booyah! #unstoppablepowerofnerdywhitegirlandindianboy #ilovecoffee (Subsequent thought: "Did I just use 'booyah'? The '90s called, they want their word back so they can bury it for good.")

Sara: bahahaha are you tweeting these texts too?

Joe: No, but I may have to, haha.

Joe: That's why I called us lame...

Sara: Hahahaha #werenotlame #doesn'teveryoneusehashtagsinnormalconversation #duhz

Joe: #mybad #realizationfail #Twitterislife

Sara: #ithappenz #canwealwaystalklikethis #imightsavethisconvoforevz

Joe: #thingsweneedtodo #kindofourthing #imightsavethisconvoforevz

Sara: #thisistoomuch #alltextslocked#unstoppablepowerofnerdywhitegirlandindianboy #thatissolong

...(About twelve hours later, discussing subsequent weekends and possible gigs - my schedule is a little up in the air)

Joe: I'd like to play...Not sure what else life will require of me that weekend, though. :)

Sara: Haha alright we can play it by ear! One weekend at a time ha

Joe: Indeed, that's how I've been living the entire summer!

Sara: We live life playing by ear #bahaha #morebadpuns

Joe: #groan ;)

It's a good thing we're semi-professional musicians, 'cause the automatic coolness that comes from that is the only thing that could possibly validate us.

Anyway, for a much less pathetic display of our interaction with each other, come see us play at Goodrich Coffee & Tea this Saturday (tomorrow, July 9th 7:30-9:30 PM) - you won't be disappointed, I promise! :) And stay tuned to our Facebook pages for upcoming gigs, we've both got a bunch of them coming up this summer, both separate and together. See you there, hopefully, and keep an eye out for our soon-to-be-trademarked hashtag:

#unstoppablepowerofnerdywhitegirlandindianboy!