Aug. 10th, 2006

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Dan often winds up chiding me for my handwriting when I leave a song on the karaoke singer list and he invariably can't read what I've written. Let this be a lesson to all y'all who think pushing a southpaw to the right is acceptable, as was the case with my first grade teacher, when she tied my left hand to the side of my desk, so many years ago. I'm now neither right- NOR left-handed.

My uncle discovered this when he tried to teach me how to golf while I was in high school. After 6 weeks of lessons, he caught me slicing a rye bread with my left hand. "Why are we teaching you how to golf right-handed?" he asked. I responded that they were his clubs. After 6 more week of lesson with my left, he decided not only was I not right-handed, I wasn't left-handed either. 4 years later my tennis instructor in college, came to the same conclusion. By mid-semester she suggested tennis was not my sport, and perhaps I should consider dropping the class.

In any event, Dan generally cannot read my writing and often exclaims, "I'm not a damned pharmacist!" Little does he know about the med school class depicted below, in which I took honors!

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osodecanela

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