Really?

Nov. 6th, 2013 11:29 pm
osodecanela: (cam capture)

I write like
Mary Shelley

I Write Like. Analyze your writing!


osodecanela: (Default)
I was still half asleep this morning when I opened LJ. When I log on tonight I'm struck how many of the folks I follow have memed today. Since you were tagged simply by reading the meme, I'm all to happy to re-post. I thank friends for the complements on my morning shot, but as I look at it again, I'm clear on why I don't routinely do 6am.

I hadn't expected to post again; had I, I might have left my shirt on & my contacts in. I had at least brushed my hair in preparation of heading off to bed.

Words Meme

Jul. 16th, 2009 09:32 pm
osodecanela: (Default)
Reply to this meme by yelling "Words!", and I will give you five words that remind me of you. Then post them in your journal, and explain what they mean to you.

These came from [livejournal.com profile] madknits

Compassion- this feels so central to my life, how I see the world, how I see people, and how I see my purpose in this world. To be honest, I don't know how I could function as a physician without my compassion. It leaves me open to hear, to feel, to understand the pain, the sadness, the discomfort of those around me. To understand that discomfort is the first step in the process of correcting it.

Gay- interesting. Not the first thing I think of, when I think of myself, but all in all pretty damn central to my being. I’ve walked both sides of the street and found relationships with women (both sexual and not) pretty satisfying; just not as satisfying as relations with men, however. When I met my husband, I was still dating both genders. Falling in love with him pretty much made up my mind for me. I have over time become much more political in my orientation. Equality is equality. I want it. It is my right to have it.

Judaism- I'm tempted to say something pithy like, "you can take the boy out of the country, but you can't take the country out of the boy." I was born into a very Jewish family. All four grandparents were right off the boat, my father's family Orthodox, my mom's people Conservative. My folks like their parents before them kept a kosher home. However, I think my parents were more secular than particularly religious. Unlike my father's father, who went to synagogue daily, my parents went to Temple on the high holy holidays, for weddings and bar mitzvahs, and rarely at any other time. However for them, and I guess for me as well, being Jewish was as much an ethnicity as a faith.

Bears- this could open the major can of worms. Bear is how I identify myself, and it means a whole bunch of different things. It's natural, without being forced. I am a gay man, but I don't have to shoehorn myself into someone else's image of what a gay man is. I don't have to have a 29 inch waist, a shaved chest, spend endless hours at the gym, or dress in either leather, skintight Levis 501s, or drag in order to be queer. I can simply be who I am.

For me it also means fur. I am attracted by fur. A furry face makes me smile. I furry chest will turn my head. A well furred butt, can make my mouth water. I often become incensed by societal pressures to shave off a beard, and frankly a man who has shaved his chest (or worse, down below) confuses me. I find nothing remotely stimulating about a plucked chicken. The Gillette website which now waxes rhapsodically about the glories of body shaving for men pissed me off big time.

Years ago I read the book "Fat Is a Feminist Issue". At its core the book rages at the oppression of women who are trying to fit themselves into a body image that is not necessarily natural, in order to fit some stereotype of what society believes is an attractive female form. For me, to try and transform into a clone would be no different.

Joy- that you associate joy with me pleases me no end! There is much in this world that is just not right, and I can dwell on that, but there is so much more that is wonderful, beautiful, and awe inspiring. Take time to look for beauty. Stop and smell the roses. Look at the colors of the world. Sit for five minutes and savor your coffee or tea and let their flavors register on your tongue. Be in the moment and appreciate it for all it is and can be.
osodecanela: (Default)
Your Animal is the Bear
You are courageous and a even bit primal. You're aggressive when it comes to getting what you want.
And when it comes to defending your family, you won't back down... ever!

You have good instincts, and you always know what you should do. You're a natural protector and warrior.
You are also quite playful and adventurous. You love to wander. You have a lot of energy to burn!


Well there's a surprise.
osodecanela: (Default)
Comment to this post and I will give you 5 subjects/things I associate you with. Then post this in your LJ and elaborate on the subjects given.

OR

Comment with five things you associate with me, and I'll expound on them in my journal.

[livejournal.com profile] furr_a_bruin associates these 5 things with me:

1) Karaoke! There was a time when I made a living with my voice. Love to sing. Get a major kick from a spot light. He who sings prays twice. However, as much as I loved to perform, I also like to eat and pay my bills. Karaoke gives me a chance to feed mi alma de cantante, get my fix and still keep my work life in order.

2) Cooking! I enjoy cooking, especially if I'm cooking for someone else, or if I'm making something off the beaten path of 'American' cooking. My mom went to work when I was 8 or 9 and as the oldest kid, if I didn't start dinner when I got home from school, we didn't eat until very late, so I was cooking for a family of five starting at that age. Further, we were an ethnic minority home, with foods that reflected it, so I starting learning to prepare ethnic foods way back then. Food is and always has been an expression of culture, and as someone who's always been fascinated by different cultures, an interest in the food and the language goes hand and hand with that. Moreover, feeding others foods they find tasty and interesting (and that I know are healthy) is very satisfying for me. ¡Buen provecho!

3) Oleoresin Capsicum! (MILK! Pass the milk!) What can I say? Some like it hot! I like bold flavors, garlic, onion, oregano, cilantro, dark chocolate, and chili is no exception. Not necessarily scorchingly hot. Not a major devotee of pain here, but then the line between pain and pleasure can be a thin one, that shifts at times, no? My taste for chili may be somewhat familial; my mother and several of my nephews have a taste for it as well. Which reminds me, I need to send my nephew the Peach Napalm I canned last year, per his request of course.

4) Doctor! Hmmm. Family affliction. My sister's a doc. My other sister's an RN. My uncle (he should rest in peace) was a doc. Two of my first cousins are docs and two more are RN's. My father (he should rest in peace) was a pharmacy tech and a pharmaceutical rep. He applied to medical school in the 50's and despite spectacular grades did not get accepted; there were quotas setting limits on Jews applying to most medical schools in that era. My father's story still angers me, to be honest. He finished at Syracuse University in June of '52 a dual major in Biochemistry and Political Science, interested both in medicine and law. He applied to both medical and law school, and was accepted to neither in this country. He was offered a place in the medical school class in Switzerland, University of Berne I think, but he and my mother wanted to get married, and there wasn't the money for him to go abroad to study. My uncle, his older brother, had trouble with the same quota system, but unlike my father, had money from the GI bill and started work on his PhD. He had his 'ABD' (all but dissertation), when a seat came open in medical school at the university where he was doing the PhD, and off he went.

What can I say? Medicine is fascinating. If you have a curious mind, and a taste for working with people, it's tremendous fun. I particularly loved studying the social sciences when I was in school which dovetails in wonderfully with medicine, particularly in primary care. I love the ongoing relationships I've had the privilege of developing over the decades I've been doing this. The invitations to weddings, baptisms, quinceañeras, and even funerals, have meant a lot to me. That was my model in medicine by the way. The doc that delivered my mother, delivered me, and I have a picture of him dancing at my parents' wedding. Moreover, with immigrant communities as I predominantly do, I get to see the ripples of my work moving through the community. It's not rare that I see someone, and ask why they've come in to see me, to which they respond, "I was talking to my cousin Ramón, who told me you said he needed to ........."

5) Beard! I have no bloody idea what I would look like without it! I haven't been clean shaven in over a quarter of a century. You can blame my grandfather in part for it. When I got accepted to medical school, he pulled me aside and said, "Boychick, you have such a baby face! You look to young to be a doctor. If you want older people to take you seriously, you need to let your beard grow." That was all the prompting I needed. I hated shaving. Hated it! First of all, I wasn't terribly good at it. I always wound up looking like I'd just lost in a knife fight, even with an electric razor. Who the hell cuts himself using an electric razor? By the time I started med school, I had a full beard. I was 21.

The only time it came off was a major mistake. Never, ever, ever trim you beard when you're not 100% fully awake. About 10 days before graduation from med school, I got up one morning, and after taking a leak, looked in the mirror while washing my hands. Deciding the hair was asymetric, to high on one cheek, I got out a razor to even it out, only to go a bit too low. So I went to the other side, to even it out. Next thing I knew, I had gone all the way down on each cheek, sort of like Abe Lincoln with a mustache. Did not care for that look, so I took it down to a goatee. One look in the mirror at that stage and I thought, "Crap! I look like the devil incarnate!". Off the rest of it came. All I left was the 'stash. Looking in the mirror, all I could think was, "OMG, what have I done!" Now my beard grows quickly, but 10 days away from both graduation and graduation pictures did not allow me enough time to get thru the 'geez-your-face-looks-grubby-are-you-growing-a-beard' stage. For 10 very long days I shaved, swearing all the time that this would never happen again. June 2nd, 1980 was the last time I shaved.

Given what I do for a living, which includes scrubbing to go into the O.R. I have to keep the beard somewhat trimmed. A 'chest warmer' just doesn't work when going into a sterile environment. As it is, I wind up, putting my hair up under a nurse's scrub bonnet, and then cut eye holes in the back of a surgical hood, which I then reverse and tie on to my head. The result leaves me looking like a Mexican wrestler, but does manage to cover all my hair when I walk into the O.R. I cannot tell you how many women awaiting c-sections have taken one look at me and burst into laughter, exclaiming "¡estas listo por lucha libre!"
osodecanela: (Default)
Comment to this post and I will give you 5 subjects/things I associate you with. Then post this in your LJ and elaborate on the subjects given.

OR

Comment with five things you associate with me, and I'll expound on them in my journal.

[livejournal.com profile] mark_monroe associates these 5 things with me:

1. Spirituality. Some of my earliest memories of TV as a kid were the scenes that came across on the nightly news during the Viet Nam war, usually with voiceovers from Walter Cronkite. His reports and the pictures of the violence were there almost daily, as was my growing discomfort with violence and war. Meanwhile the ritual I experienced in the synagogues of my youth held little meaning for me and did little to address my 'dis-ease' with the violence I both saw on the tube and heard about in the news. Then the assassinations of RFK and Dr. King hit me hard.

I went to high school across the street from a Friends Meeting, at actually did some draft counseling with the American Friends Service Committee. Meanwhile I met more and more Friends over time, most of them in settings having nothing to do with Quakerism, which finally got me to ask myself, if there aren't too many Quakers in the world, why do they keep popping up in my life and in important ways? It finally got me to go to Meeting for Worship, more out of curiosity than anything else. To my surprise, it felt like coming home. The silent meditation, both alone and in group spoke to me, and its been that way ever since. It remains a central focus in my life. There is that of the divine in everyone, and anyone can be in contact with that continuing revelation.

2. Heritage. They were all Jewish immigrants. My first ancestor set foot in this country around 1890. That was my paternal, paternal great grandfather, who hailed from Lithuania. All of my grandparents were emigrees, maternal grandmother and paternal grandfather both from Lithuania, paternal grandmother from Odessa, though she said her parents were Sephardic (likely Turks) and my maternal grandfather from northern England (Leeds, Yorkshire), though his mother was Lithuanian. Though my grandfather was a native English speaker, English was a second language for both of my parents

3. Children. Four god-daughters, Rose ([livejournal.com profile] rosadecaos) age 15, Joyce (7), April (6) and Christina (3 1/2). I delivered the older two girls. My husband was there for Joyce's birth, in the O.R. (c-sect.)

4. That fab red hair! There's a lot of it, isn't there? Red hair doesn't run in my family. It bloody well gallops. Both my grandfathers, an uncle on mom's side, an aunt and uncle on pop's, nearly half my cousins, neither of my sister's, but all three of the youngest one's kids. It's hard to be anonymous with red hair, especially if you travel in a pack. (and no my last name is not Weasley.)

5. Partner. Husband, please. Met him at SF Friends Meeting in 1981. Have been with him ever since. Married him the 3rd Sunday of July last year, which was the 27th anniversary of when we first met, in a Quaker wedding in the gazebo up behind our house. Cannot imagine a live without him. LJ (his initials), a quaker attorney (no that's not an oxymoron), 3 years my senior, went to the same high school I did, but finished 2.5 years earlier. He's as active with Quakers as I am, if not more so. There are times I'm not certain if I'm a married gay man or a gay single parent, but then what couple isn't that true for? We've been together 10 years longer than my in-laws were.

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