Thursday, December 20, 2007

Putin is Person of the Year!


This isn't really a blog its more of an announcement and another excuse to hail the greatest leader in the world, comrade Putin and put up this picture I found which is awesome! Hail comrade! Putin was made Time magazines person of the year, and its about time. The man is the greatest thing that happened to Russia since Lenin. Soon all will hail Putin, and one day in the future when you go to your local McPutins to have a McBorsh, remember how it all began in these chaotic times when you and I could enjoy the free web and type and read any blogs we damn wished. Soon this freedom nonsense will be over with and we can all enjoy some delicious borsh. Dosvidaniya druzya!

Comrade Ashot

Tuesday, December 4, 2007

When The Legendary Blogs Die

People, something terrible happened! Our wonderful, amazing, and deliciously dirty blog that cought the attention of the world and brought in a net profit of 106 blog comments, has passed away! This is a sad day in blog history. This blog was a ground breaking blog. In no other time of blogistory has there been such a successful blog. 106 comments! And it was still growing. I mean, just think how big it could have been, had it not been cut down in its prime! Huge! Big! Very Huge! I was so saddened when I saw that our beloved blog has gone to blog heaven, that I decided that I would forgo my long awaited 60 blog extravaganza entry (I guess until the 100th blog), and write a blog about this tragic event. What is a sad day. Why? Why do all the greatest taken from us so soon after they come to us? Are we not worthy? Are we not worthy of a presence of such a great blog? Answer me Lord? Why has thee taken our blog so soon after its works of miracle? Dear blog, you left us mighty big fucking shoes to fill, big fucking shoes. And most of us know that we could never fill those mighty god damn large fucking shoes, but we try to do our best, to keep our memories of your glory, alive, as we shall continue writing excellent blogs until the end of time (or the internet). I declare 106 days of mourning in memory of our departed blog. Rest in peace dear blog, you shall be missed, you...shall...be...missed...

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Why you gotta love Lehmann.



Why you gotta love this man you ask?

1. His beard...natural, untamed, unmatched, unconquered.

2. His gut. What a Classic and majestic beer belly.

3. He went to Cambridge

4. He is "not a doctor like you guys", but a "botanist by training."

5. He thinks cook books are for girls and handy books are for boys.

6. He has his mic attached every time he goes to the bathroom stall. Niccccce!

7. He will interupt you during an explanation and tell you that he needs "to go"

8.He has a tetanus-like jerk reaction removing his glasses when he reads his notes

9.You can't help but yell at him on Monday mornings...well bc you are sleep deprived and got a case of the Mondays

10. He is British...as is Borat. Resssssspect.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Why I came to lecture today


Right, now, 1:03 pm and I am one of 42 students in attendance. Jason and I are manning the back row and no one besides us. It's scary, being somewhat alone, without the rest of the gang, but that's what I do, I am here when you aren't, I am here when all others have given up...I am here to the end. Think about it. Then post if you dare.

Monday, October 15, 2007

Does Russia have the US-of-A by its balls?

1943...Stalin...for whoever remembers...he along with FDR and Churchill met in Iran to discuss alot of things, war strategy, what to do with Hitler and his girlfriend, and the different types of Russian caviar (those who don't know, there are only two...)

In the 64 years, no sane person (not celebrating Ramamdan) has been, seen, smelled or breathed or Iranian air...until...

2007...Putin, now that he has some money from all that oil (oil barrel prices hit $85 today, a record) he is going to ....you guessed it, to Iran to meet with the sympathetic, democratically-elected, Ahmadinijihad. Anyways, he is helping him build some nuclear factors, obtain some more Soviet-era weapons, enrich some uranium...the usual...except that this is the beginning of something big (West v. East Parta Deux) as I have been predicting all along...

Anyways, I was kinda bored so I'd figure someone would have wanted to read this...PS Who would ever want to assassinate Putin (check the news)?

Wednesday, October 10, 2007

One step closer

The House Foreign Relations Committee voted to approve the Resolution 106 recognizing the Armenian Genocide. This means they have approved to bring the resolution to a floor vote at the House of Representatives. So far so good, however, House speaker Palosi could still back down to pressures from Bush and the Turks, and prevent the bill from reaching the floor for a vote. She said before that she wouldn't, however women have been known to lie, so I ain't going to hold my breath. I'll just wait and see. For those of you who are wondering why I care so much, its not only because I am Armenian. Long story short, my great-grandfather was a genocide survivor. He had to flee his home to another country. Because he had to leave his home, I wan't born in Armenia, I was born in another country of Turks, where 80 years later Armenians would again die by the hands of Turks, and this time it would affect me directly, resulting in me and my family leaving our home behind and becoming refugees, just like my great-grandfather. So as you see, it does affect me, and that is why I care. This shit just doesn't get sweeped under the rug and forgotten. This shit sticks around and changes families forever. Without foreclosure, these families will be forever refugees even if they find a new home.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

I know you all don't care, but I care and so I write.

Yo what up yo! So tommarow, wednesday, it is anticipated that Resolution 106 might finnaly be brought to the floor of the House of Representatives for a vote. But that all depends if Nancy Palosi decides to actually send the resolution to the floor for a vote. What is Resolution 106? The resolution if approved will recognize the Armenian Genocide, however it is completely nonbinding and therefore only simbolic. Years after years the resolution makes it to the speakers desk only to be postponed because the country is afraid of the damages that the resolution can make with the US relations with Turkey, who every year warns the congress and the president of the US that such a vote would put the US-Turkey relationship in jeapordy. This happend this year too. The president of Turkey today warned president Bush that if this resolution passes, there would be great repurcusions. Usually the resolution never makes it to the floor for a vote. But this year is a little different. Nancy Palosi is sympathetic to the resolution having said before that she would approve it. Also the house now has a Democratic majority and most of the representatives have already signed a petition that says that they would approve the resolution, all that is left is for the resolution to actually make it to the floor for a vote. Well, I doubt it will come to a vote even this year. Turkey is putting great pressure on US to not vote on it, and I'm sure that Bush and others like him will succed in persuading Palosi not to give the resolution to the floor for a vote. Because who gives a fuck about Armenia anyway, its not worth the trouble of losing our wonderful relationship with Turkey over a piece of shit country like Armenia. And it is a piece of shit country, and I know you all don't give a shit, but like I said, its my blog, and I can post whatever I want. Peace y'all!

Friday, October 5, 2007

The Appendix might have a purpose after all!


The good scientists at Duke University Medical School say that the appendix might not be useless after all. It’s true. While at the library, I come over to check my email and what do I see, an article link about the appendix. Being the nerd that I am I immediately clicked on the link and read the whole thing. So here is the main point. These guys did some research and they published a paper and they say the main role of the appendix is to grow and protect the good germs, i.e. your normal flora. As some of you know there are more bacteria than there are human cells in the typical body. We are literally a big sack of bacteria walking around like we all that. Most of the bacteria are good and help digest food, keep us immune, etc. etc. Anyways, sometimes the flora of bacteria in the intestines die or are purged. Diseases such as cholera or amoebic dysentery would clear the gut of useful bacteria. Well the researchers at Duke say that when this happens it is the appendix's job to reboot the digestive system. In a way it acts as a factory and safe house for the good bacteria, and whenever the need arises, the appendix will replenish the GI with a fresh batch. Pretty damn exciting, isn’t it? I mean all these years we thought it was a useless sack of tissue, well we could be wrong. However, don’t start dancing around like joyful circus moneys just yet. As most of you know medical knowledge changes every year, as they find out more and more about the human body and how things work. So my advice: hold on to your butts.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Chess in the Midwesss...



So Ashot and I decided we will have a chess tournament to determine who is number #1 chess player in Toledo...starting tomorrow. It will continue until mid-December, and a second tourament will commence in January. The tournament will include a chess board, polished glasses, lots of water and girls to hold up score cards (we are still looking for volunteers...so don't be shy). If you'd like to lose in less than 15 moves, let us know, your skill or lack thereof will be appreciated.
Btw the two pics above are 2 of the top 8 grandmasters in the world - just out of the 2007 World Chess Championships. One on the left is Armenian, the other is a Jew. The remaining 5 of 6 players are Russians and the 8th grandmaster, who won it all is from India, which happens to be a former Soviet Bloc country, so in other words...R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

Monday, October 1, 2007

I won’t stay, but I’ll keep my eye on things…


That’s what President Putin said when asked if he will have the constitution changed so that he could run for another term as President of the Russian Federation. I will not be the man that will change our country’s constitution, however, I’ll still keep my eye on thing is what Mr. Putin said. Well, me and those who like me are in tune to Russian politics were wondering just what exactly does he mean when he says that he will still keep his eye on things. Will he pick a successor who has the same ideology about the future of Russia as he does? Will he pick somebody to hold the seat warm for him and come back to power legally after skipping a term? Is he just lying and does he plan to run again after all? Or is he just going to show up one day in a Darth Sidious robe and proclaim himself emperor of a new and more powerful Russian Empire? Well most people realized that somehow Putin was going to his hold on power in Russia one way or another, and today we found out a little bit about just how he plans to do it. Putin announced today that he would be the leading candidate on the ticket of Russia’s dominant political party in parliamentary elections in December, and said he might become the country’s prime minister next year. There you go folks, that is how he is going to do it, that is how its going to be done. Earlier this year Putin fired his prime minister and put in place a new one, a man who was largely unheard of in Russian politics, and most people agree that this is the man that Putin wants in his place while he stays backstage and pulls that strings. Now we know how it will be done. As the leading candidate on the ticket of Russians dominant political party, United Russia, Putin will have great influence and control over the Russia government, while his puppet President keeps his chair warm for his return in four years. However, even now the future is still uncertain (always in motion the future is), and if I know Putin, and I think I do (well actually I don’t, but for the sake of this blog lets pretend I do), then his latest public remark is all part of a charade. You see, Putin is fearful of betrayal and of losing his influence in the Kremlin’s mercurial inner sanctum and in the end he may yet reverse his course and decide to serve a third consecutive term despite the constitutional prohibition. And if anybody gives him any shit about the constitution all he needs to do is scream “I AM THE CONSTITUTION!!!”

Friday, September 28, 2007

Something else for y'all to read

While facebooking today (by the way when is that word going to be added to the English language dictionary? Soon I hope, the red underlining is annoying on Word) I noticed that the most popular favorite movie picked by those in the MedU Ohio network is Old School. What? Now don’t get me wrong, that is a really funny movie, I totally enjoyed it and I’ll watch it over and over again, but its not my favorite movie, its probably not in my top 50 favorite movies. What kind of people put that as their favorite movie on their facebook profile? The answer is: a lot of people. At the MedU Ohio network it’s the number one picked movie. Is it really that great? I don’t know but for me, a comedy could never be my favorite movie. I love comedies just as much as the next guy, but its just a comedy and there are always new comedies coming out every year, but a really good movie, a really good movie, a movie that really grabbed a hold of you and wouldn’t let go and gave you goose bumps, a movie like that only comes around once ever 5-10 years, and surely these are not comedies, are they? At least I think not. But I think this just might be an issue of personal preference. I mean, maybe, just maybe, I like epic movies, drama, and action, more than I like comedies. I do like comedies, I love watching movies that make me laugh my freaking ass off. Superbad was freaking hilarious, and Anchorman, 40 Year Old Virgin, and Old School, are all really funny movies. However, as I glace up from my laptop and look over at my DVD collection I realize that of those 200 or so movies that I have accumulated over the last 7 years, I would say only 12 are comedies. That’s only 6%. So I guess the point is (ha, a point, is there ever a point) that I don’t consider comedies to be great movies, for me they are just entertainment, something to make me laugh and enjoy with my friends, but not great movie material. However there are exceptions. There are comedies that I consider to be great movies, and would even go as far is including them in my top 50 movies of all time. I would have to say that The Big Lebowski would definitely qualify, I like that move a whole of a lot better than I like Old School. The movie is not just funny, its brilliant, and they just could never make a movie like that again, I mean it’s a classic. Old School is not, and I doubt that it ever will be.

Tuesday, September 25, 2007

On How We Insult Our Guests

When you invite someone to be your guest, are you going to insult them when they come, especially if they come for the first time, never having visited you before? I am talking about the president of Columbia University. As I am sure some of you have heard, the Iranian president, our mortal enemy, made a visit to America a couple of days ago. He is here to speak at the UN, however, he was invited by the Columbian University to come and come and do a Q & A session. Columbia got a lot of heat from the press and from all sorts of people, denouncing their decision to have such a tyrant and our worst enemy to come and be treated with such honor as doing a Q & A at Columbia. We can’t treat tyrants with such honor. But we did invite him, and he did accept and he did come. Having already arrived at such as step, was it really necessary to insult the man in our own country, on our turf? Aren’t there more appropriate times and places to protest and denounce this terrible man? Please, do not misunderstand me, I am not a fan of Ahmadinejhad. Not even close. Just like most people, I too realize the man is an idiot, the man is ignorant, the man is a tyrant, and the man is probably dangerous. However, this is not the point. The point is, Columbia University, offered an invitation to him, to come and do a Q & A session, during which anybody could ask anything, there was no script, and Ahmadinejhad agreed to this, (I mean if nothing else, the man has courage, to walk into a lions den like that, takes courage) was insulting him in the introduction really necessary or appropriate? Some people say that to invite someone into your home and then disrespect them is the ultimate low; you don’t do that even to your enemy. In the middle ages when two countries would go to war, when you invited your enemy to come into your camp for negotiations or whatever, it was understand by all, that the other would be treated with respect. Well what kind of an example are we setting to the world when we invite a nation’s president to come and answer questions and we can’t even introduce him without insulting him? Why not just stab him in the heart then? Here you go you piece of shit, we hate you and now you going to die! I mean, why stop with the insults? The president of Columbia was the host and he insulted his guest, literally calling him, among other things, a "cruel and petty dictator" as well as “astonishingly uneducated." All true, but still, was it necessary, was it appropriate for the setting in which it happened? I do not think it was, I think the Columbia president should be ashamed, he made our country look bad, and even their country would have treated our President Bush (who actually is a retard) with more respect had he came to do a Q & A session at Tehran University, even though they hate Bush just as much as we hate Ahmadinejhad. I say this because I know Middle east culture, and in the Middle East you treat your guest with the greatest respect and hospitality, even if they are your enemy. Once again, I think inviting Ahmadinejhad to speak at Columbia was a big mistake, but insulting him was an even bigger mistake, and once again we have shown the world that we are no better then anyone else and not the moral beacon of the world that we always seem to think we are.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

Tired and Hungry

It’s a Saturday night, it’s about close to 7 pm right now, I’m in the library and Elvis comes up and says “what are you up to?” I stop typing and talk to him for a while and I ask him if he is going to go to dinner with me and Tahir, he says he already ate. I jump off my seat and I grab him by the shoulders and shake him and say “Elviiiis! What is the matter with you!!!” We both have a laugh and he says “I can’t study while I’m hungry man!” I tell him he needs to start buying powerbars and he asks me if they fill you up and I tell him they get the job done for a couple of hours, then he finally leaves and I return to my typing. So where was I? Oh yes. It’s a Saturday night, a little after 7pm, I’m at the library, I’m tired, I’m hungry and I am just plain pissed off. The last 48 hours I haven’t really slept much and it doesn’t look like I’ll get much more than that in the next 48. Five weeks worth of diseases and immune system and we don’t even get a single day off to study for this exam. Man, am I hungry. Why don’t I go eat? Well I’m waiting for a friend. He is a Muslim and its Ramadan so he has to fast and he has to eat only at a certain time, so I got wait for his ass because I don’t want to eat by myself and he is my friend and I enjoy his company. I thought I had it rough studying for this test, but that is nothing compared to what he is going through, being hungry all the time and having to study for this test. How the hell can you concentrate on the notes when you are hungry all the time? I’m hungry right now and I can’t concentrate, that’s why I came over to this computer to write something down, because I can’t think when I’m hungry. I’m also tired. Oh so very very tired. I want a bed. A nice warm bed that is so soft and so nice and I could sleep forever and not worry about having to do x-amount of lectures before Monday. Not to mention all the case studies and the lab, and the independent projects I haven’t gone over yet. I probably sound like I’m complaining, but I don’t think I’m complaining, I’m just typing down how I’m feeling right now. And I feel tired, hungry, and….well, hungry. Got to get eat now. Take care of yourselves and each other…

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

I'm going to pull a Lehmann

Yeah, so I'd like to get some feedback, so if you could answer these poll questions, that would be just great. Oh and just to make something clear, I write these blogs mostly for myself, I find it to be kind of like meditation in which I mean that it helps me clear my mind and see things in a different perspective. With that said, I would be liar if I claimed that to be the only reason I write blogs, so go ahead and give me your feedback yo!



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Friday, September 14, 2007

Another Strange Dream

I woke up from a strange dream this morning. I’ve been having weird dreams often lately. In this one, I am some place I don’t remember now where it was, but I decide to get up and to the restroom. I get to the restroom and I wash my hands and I get a paper towel to dry my hands and I am about to throw the paper towel into the waste basket when I realize that the waste basket is full of my clothes, clothes that I own. I am thinking, who the hell threw out my clothes, I need those. So I start going through the waste basket, taking out my clothes, discovering more of them, and taking them out. Other men come into the bathroom during this time, and when they come up to wash their hands, they just look at me wierd and in disgust. Like they are thinking “why are you taking all that garbage you hobo.” I ignore their staring, I take my clothes, and I walk out, and I wake up.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

I am an uncle! Or second uncle, or whatever you call it.

That’s right. My cousin Anya, who lives in Russia, gave birth to a baby boy today, so that makes me an uncle in my culture. It is so strange, I remember the days when we were all kids like it was yesterday. Me, Anya and her younger brother Vova, we were like the three musketeers. We always played together and we got into all sorts of adventures and trouble together. Now we are grown up and are far apart. I'm in medical school, Anya is a mommy, and Vova is a rock star, life is so sad. I really miss my cousins. But I am so happy that I have a nephew. I’ve never been an uncle before, this is kind of cool. I bet I will make a great uncle. Too bad I live half way around the world and probably won’t meet my nephew for a long time. Well, I can’t have everything I desire. Here is a picture of my cousin Anya and her husband Yannis. I don’t have a picture of my nephew yet, I hope to get one soon.

A lame excuse for a car accident

Today, while driving to school, I decided to take Heatherdown to get to Glendale instead of taking Glendale itself because Glendale has a lot of work on it and its slower that way. So I take Healtherdown and I make a left on Byrne and I approach Glendale and I am supposed to take a right to get to school. I see the car in front of me taking a right and as I slow down I look to my left to make sure no car is coming and when I see I am safe I hit the gas and only then look in front of me (dumbass) and the car I thought already made that right turn was right there in front of me still waiting. Immediately I hit the brakes but I was too late and I bumped into her. Shit I say. I put on my emergency lights and I come out of the car to talk to what turned out to be a girl, a nursing student at our school. She looks all scared and I am laughing saying “shit, sorry about that.” I look at where I hit her and there is nothing there, not even a scratch, because I didn’t hit her that hard at all, it was just a bump. My car has nothing on it as well. “Well, that was close, no harm done?” I said, because really there was no harm done at all. “Oh God, that was so scary, “she says, almost crying. “I have to call my daddy,” she says. What the hell, there is not even a scratch, what are you calling your daddy for? So she calls her daddy, and the idiot tells her she needs to call the cops and get a police report. Fuck. So we wait there for like 10 minutes while the cop shows up. Who when he gets out of his car looks very pissed off when he sees absolutely no damage on either vehicle. He writes his freaking report for like 20 minutes, and then lets her go, and when he was letting me go, he says that he won’t give anybody a citation since there was no injury or damage at all, and tells me the girl wasted all of our time. Anyway, so I missed half of my first lecture this morning all because I was driving to school, listening to the Beatles and not paying enough attention to what is going on around me. Shame on me.

Sunday, September 9, 2007

I freaking love Scarface

What you lookin' at? You all a bunch of fuckin' assholes. You know why? You don't have the guts to be what you wanna be? You need people like me. You need people like me so you can point your fuckin' fingers and say, "That's the bad guy." So... what that make you? Good? You're not good. You just know how to hide, how to lie. Me, I don't have that problem. Me, I always tell the truth. Even when I lie. So say good night to the bad guy! Come on. The last time you gonna see a bad guy like this again, let me tell you. Come on. Make way for the bad guy. There's a bad guy comin' through! Better get outta his way!
You know what your problem is? You don't got nothing to do with your life. Why don't you get a job? Work with lepers. Blind kids. Anything's gotta be better than lying around all day waiting for me to fuck you.
I never fucked anybody over in my life didn't have it coming to them. You got that? All I have in this world is my balls and my word and I don't break them for no one. Do you understand? That piece of shit up there, I never liked him, I never trusted him. For all I know he had me set up and had my friend Angel Fernandez killed. But that's history. I'm here, he's not. Do you wanna go on with me, you say it. You don't, then you make a move.
In this country, you gotta make the money first. Then when you get the money, you get the power. Then when you get the power, then you get the women.

Tuesday, September 4, 2007

Huge Cows, Tall Trees, and Giant Pears

When you’re a kid everything seems big, magical, and interesting. Long time ago when I was just a little kid, back in the old country, before the war, in time of peace, stability and brotherhood, my grandfather and my father decided to take our whole family on a trip to the land of our ancestors. We packed up our stuff and all got into our tiny Russian Djuguli a car smaller then the 2-door cavalier that I drive right now, and we started the drive to Artsakh, the land of our forefathers. The particular village we were going to is called Norshen which translated from Armenian means new village or new town or something like that. This particular village was home to my father’s mother’s side of the family and we still had some land there so we had a place to stay.
What I remember is that once we got there and found our house (or cottage?) we discovered an unpleasant surprise. Not only has our village home deteriorated and broken down due to years and years of neglect, but there in the front yard lying down among the tall grass was a huge cow. “My God, after all these years, it is still alive…” said my grandfather. “That’s not our cow you idiot” shouted grandmother. “It must be lost.” “What the hell is a cow doing on our property?” yelled father. It turned out the cow belonged to our neighbor who figured us all dead and decided to use our lawn for feeding ground for his cow. After some yelling and then some drinking to celebrate our return our friendly neighbor took his cow away and we were able to unpack and settle in.
What is amazing about childhood is how much bigger everything seemed because you were so small. For me, as I try to remember my trip to the village I recall giant trees, huge domesticated animals, and amazing mountains. Now it probably won’t all seem so big but back then to small kid it all seemed so great and extraordinary. Waking up early the next morning I noticed some noise outside and I ran to investigate. I saw the dirt road full of cows leaving the village. “Where are all the cows going babulya?” I asked my grandma. “They are following the herdsman to green pastures where they will graze and enjoy the sunshine.” I was amazed how all the cows knew that they were supposed to follow some man and how they did it obediently. I was even more amazed later that evening when they all returned and every single cow knew which home to return to.
But the most fun I had was another evening when the entire village went to the forest to pick wild fruits and nuts. What seemed like work turned out to be fun and entertaining. All the big and strong man of the village ran up to these huge and tall trees and began to climb up until I could no longer see them and only hear their voices from above as they sang songs and tossed down the picked fruits. The rest of the villagers which were mostly women, children, and the elderly, would also sing as they walked around and tried to catch the fruits and the nuts tossed from above. That was a lot of fun, especially for us kids, as we were running around trying to catch giant pears, apples, and walnuts and store them in our bags. Except I didn’t have a bag of my own, which upset me greatly because I wanted to compete with the other kids and have the fullest bag. “I need a bag momma!!!” I yelled at my mom, but she only told me that I shouldn’t worry because her bag was big enough for the both of us. Obviously she missed the point completely, because for me it wasn’t about the fruit and nuts, it was about beating the other kids in the village. I was very sad when the time came for us to leave this lovely rustic village and return to the polluted oil-industry city where we lived, but as fate would have it, we wouldn’t have to stay there too much longer.

Monday, August 27, 2007

Let me tell you about my barber

That’s right, I have a barber who I regularly go to for my haircuts. Never had a barber before I moved to Toledo. Usually whenever I needed a haircut I would just go to some haircut franchise like Hot Clips or something like that where they hire girls straight out of the local beauty school. So usually I would get my haircut from a new girl every time I went, so I never had a regular barber that I preferred. Well that all changed when I moved to Toledo. Let me explain how it all happened.
Moving to Toledo I somehow knew that I would eventually need to get a haircut. This worried me because I had no idea where to get a haircut. When the time came for my hair cut I was panicking. Fortunately I remembered that when I first checked my mail box at school there was a flier inside for some kind of a barbershop. “Barbershop eh? Hmmm…this might not be a bad idea,” is what I thought. So I looked up the address and I hopped in my car and I drove to see this so called barbershop. That is how I met Howard, my barber. Howard is an elderly person and I have no idea how old he is but he is a great guy who lived an interesting life and he gives really great haircuts. When he was done with my hair I knew I would be coming back again and again.
So let me tell you a little about Howard. Like I said he is an old man, he is the owner of the barbershop, he has lived in Toledo his entire life and has actually never been outside of Toledo and doesn’t “give a damn either.” His barbershop is divided into cubicles and he employs two other barbers. I never see them because I always give Howard a call when I need a haircut because Howard is the man. Howard’s cubicle is cool because it has a mannequin in it (just the upper body, nothing below the waist) that always has a different hat on it, or sunglasses or something else. His cubicle also has a nice portrait of Jesus with sign on it that says “Friend” which for some reason I think is really cool. He also has a little chalkboard hanging on one of his cubicle walls with a border that says “days left until X-mas” and you just write in the number with chalk, so it’s a countdown until Christmas chalkboard and every day he makes sure to write in how many days are left. I think that is really cool. Good old Howard, he really loves Christmas.
There is something really cool about sitting in a barbershop getting your hair cut and talking to the barber that you know by name and have known long enough for him to remember to ask you how that exam went and so on. Kind of reminds me of some movie about a barbershop where the guy talks to the barber. This also make me feel all grown up, except it doesn’t because I am probably the youngest person that is a regular at that barbershop, because everyone else that comes to get their haircut there is a senior citizen. They all know me by name now and recognize my voice when I call. I love this place and I will keep getting my hair cut there because Howard is an excellent barber and he is a really great guy.

Peace be with you

If I saw you coming and smiled to you but you did not smile back, do not worry, peace be with you my brother.
If we stopped to eat and I shared my food with you but you didn’t share your water, do not worry, peace be with you my brother.
If you called on me for help and I answered but you didn’t answer when I called, do not worry, peace be with you my brother.
If I opened up to you and told you who I am but you did not open up to me, do not worry, peace be with you my brother.
If I gave you complements and I gave you praise but you put me down and humiliated me, do not worry, peace be with you my brother.
If I loved you more than I love myself but you betrayed me, do not worry, peace be with you my brother.
If I showed you my most cherished possession and you took it from me, do not worry, peace be with you my brother.

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Back to the Back Row

Its the day before school begins again and I’m ready. I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready, I’m ready. Am I? Second year of medical school, can’t be that different from first year. Right? I don’t know. I guess I should have been asking people one year of ahead of me what second year will be like, but I haven’t been. Hell, I didn’t really think I would make it this far. Immunity and Infection, can’t be that hard….can it? Organ systems, ha, that’s just anatomy again, just in more detail….great. At least no FCP or PBL until November or something, that’s nice, but eerie. They can’t be that nice to us. There must be a reason, oh right, that’s because the first two months are pretty rough, that’s about the only thing I did hear about 2nd year. But I’m excited to get started, I’m ready. I can’t wait.
This year will be different. Oh, I’ll still be in the back row, a tiger don’t change its stripes, no doubt. But things will be different I’m sure. We have to print out the notes on our own this time. What’s that about? School trying to save some money or something? Maybe they think we want to stare at a computer screen all day. Forget it, I get enough of that by writing and reading blogs, I don’t want to go blind, I don’t think so. I’m assuming most of us will print out the notes because most of us tend to write things down in class and then there are some of us who make lots of notes (you all know who you are). I’m going to assume that most people will head to the library computer lab to print out the notes, so it looks like it will still be the schools paper used for the notes. So whatever the reason for making us print out the notes on our own instead of handing them out all together, well it doesn’t make any sense to me.
Things will be different. I’m going to make more of an effort to get to know the professors. Last year I felt bad for not getting to know them better, plus I might need them to write me a letter of recommendation. I’m not sure who the 4th years ask to write them a letter, maybe it’s the faculty from their 3rd year rotations or maybe not, but I haven’t really gotten to know any of the professors so maybe its time to get better acquainted. So if you see me heading down to ask questions during breaks don’t be surprised and don’t confuse me for a gunner either. That’s not my style. Back row here I come.

Monday, August 13, 2007

I root for the underdog

Like a lot of people, I like to see the smaller and weaker opponent defeat the bigger and powerful one. The desire to see the underdog win might be human nature. I mean this goes back in history all the way to David vs. Goliath. Seems like there were people that always cheered for the underdog. Its just more exciting, isn’t it? To see the weak triumph over the strong. To see a not so great team defeat a great team to win some trophy, that’s something to see. I’m not much of a sports fan myself, although I do enjoy watching the world cup and the Olympics. A lot of people always cheer for the Brazilian soccer team, because they are the greatest, they are the best of the best and people expect that. I could never cheer for them, no matter how much I wanted to, knowing they are the greatest at this sport. Always, I wanted them to lose, always I cheered for the underdog. I was thrilled whenever they would lose, especially to a country that is much weaker then they are. Then when it comes to Olympic basketball, its hard because I have to root for the US team, even though we are so much better at basketball then everyone else. I have to root for US because somewhere in my closet there is a piece of paper that says I’m American, and for all I know if I don’t cheer for US, they might take that piece of paper away and give me the boot. So I root for US, even though deep down I want the underdog to beat us. I guess in a way, the reason I always root for the underdog is because in a way I am an underdog myself because I never really had that many victories, I could probably count them on my fingers. I root for the underdog and I am happy to see the underdog win because I know what’s like to be the underdog. And so, I root for the underdog.

Thursday, August 9, 2007

Don't Depend on Hope

They say….they say that hope is a dangerous thing to lose. Well, I say hope is a dangerous thing to cling to. Hope can become an excuse for inaction. An excuse for cowardice. An excuse for an excuse. Hoping is not going to make the world better. Hoping wont stop hunger, it won’t fix the national health care system, it won’t insure the uninsured, it won’t educate the uneducated, it wont unite the Sunnis and Shiites, the Jews and the Muslims, it won’t stop the atrocities it Darfur, it won’t do anything, because hope is not action, it is inaction. This blog is not a call to abandon hope; rather it’s a call to embrace action. Hope could be a good thing but its better to not depend on hope. Because once you depend on it, hope becomes an excuse for simply saying “well its out of my hands, I’ll just wait for somebody else to fix my problems.” It is never out of your hands, and if you don’t do anything about it, likely nobody else will, because everybody else is just like you, “hoping” you yourself or somebody else will fix your problem. We need to stop hoping that the world gets better. We need to get off our butts and help ourselves so that we can help each other. Only then will this world change for the better. Only when we stop hoping, when we take action to better ourselves will we be able to better each other and make the world a better place. Remember that cheesy Michael Jackson song from the 80s Man in the Mirror. Well it isn’t all that cheesy, the man had a point. It does start with the man in the mirror, to help the world you must start with yourself first, you must look in the mirror and you must make that change. Don’t hope that the change will come with time, make that change now. Too bad old Jacko couldn’t listen to his own advice. But don’t ridicule him too much. Most of us don’t have what it takes to make that change, not just Jacko. I am not a hypocrite. I know how hard it is to make changes. Every night I go to bed I say to myself that tomorrow I will start to make the changes, that I will drop my vices, that I will make myself a better person. Then come morning, I wake up, I brush my teeth, I look in the mirror and I know I won’t do it. I am too weak, I leave it to hope that someday I will make the changes, but hope won’t do it for me. Hope is not a great thing. Was it hope that saved humanity from genocide after genocide after genocide while the world watched and hoped? They weren’t saved because they were weak, because the world was weak. All hoped that the world wouldn’t just stand by and watch this happen to humanity. Well, their hope failed them just like it’s failing in Darfur today. Nothing has changed since then. The world today is just as savage and ruthless as it has always been, because we are as weak as we have always been, we still need to make changes. The other day I was watching some Democratic candidate interview type thing and this guy in crutches came up and made this whole speech about how he lost his job and now has no insurance and can’t bear to look into the face and eyes of his beloved wife who is without health insurance. He asked John Edwards what is wrong with America and what is he prepared to do about it. John Edwards looked at him and then said “you are the perfect example of what is wrong with America today.” I couldn’t agree more, no matter how much I dislike Edwards. Our government is only as strong and good as its citizens are, just look at our president. We only have ourselves to blame for the inadequacy and stupidity of our president, because we put him there. Yes it was us, it was you and it was me, even if we didn’t vote for him (I know I didn’t) we are just as responsible as that other 50 percent of people who did vote him back in. It was our hope for a safer America, for a better world, that put that retard and his psychopath vice president back in the White House. Most of us lacked the courage, the confidence, and the responsibility to improve our country so we chose to leave that burden on somebody else and hope that things turn out right. Well that hope failed us and that is why we are where we are today. I mean just look at the circus around Alberto Gonzales, I mean this administration doesn’t even try to keep things under the table anymore, the lies and the arrogance are no longer shocking, they have become amusing. But they say, if you lose everything and you don’t have hope, then you have nothing. Wrong. It’s because of hope that you ended up with nothing. If you never had hope you would never have lost whatever you lost, because you would have been strong enough to take actions into your own hands and nobody would be able to take everything away from you. Don’t depend on hope, stay way from it or else you will end up lost. Once in a while something great comes along and makes you believe in hope. Something wonderful happens to you and you start to make changes and you start to become better and more confident and you realize that things are finally going your way that you are becoming that person you always wanted it to be. Sounds really nice, sounds wonderful. Well it won’t last forever. Easy come and easy go, and since these changes did not materialize through your struggles, through your actions, through your decisions, since these things came to be because some event or some person did them for you, then when that situation is gone, when that person leaves, trust me you will be left exactly where you began. All that which was good and wonderful that which was given to you, will be taken away, because it didn’t come to be from yourself it come from outside and that can always be taken away. The point is, don’t wait for good things to happen so that you can improve, make sure that you improve from within, from inside, through your own struggle, because nobody can take that away from you. Because if the good came from within you, it will always stay with you and it you will never lose it, no matter what life throws at you. Believe me, hope is for the weak and the weak will always stay weak because they can’t let go of hope, they are too scared to let go of it. Because once you let go, then that means you must make actions, you must make confrontations, and the weak are afraid of such things. Help the weak we must, but we cannot do it for them, they have to do it themselves, they must earn it through their struggle, because if we do it for them, once we leave, they fail and they will go back to where the were before we came. This is exactly why we are where we are today in Iraq, that is why Iraq will fail because they didn’t earn freedom through their own struggles, through their own blood and sacrifice the way we earned our freedom, they were given their freedom by us. You can’t do it for them. You should help, of course you should, but you can’t do it for them, they have to do it for themselves, otherwise they will fail. I am not a hypocrite. I too am afraid of action, of confrontations, of decisions, of responsibility. But that ends now. This is one of the reasons why I am here, in medical school. I knew what this was about from the beginning. This is a journey of nothing but actions, confrontations, decisions, and responsibility. This journey will force me to confront all of my fears and once I face my fears and accept my fears, I will have no choice but to make that change, to get through it, and become the person I always hoped to be. But it won’t be because of hope; it will be because of me, of what I will do. I will do it. You should do it too. Let go of your hopes, don’t wait for it to happen someday, because it won’t happen unless you make it happen. Let go of hope, face your fear, and make the change. We can do it, we can make ourselves better and then we came make our country better. This isn’t cheesy, this isn’t funny, this isn’t pointless, this is me reaching out to all of you, because I care about you, all of you, and I want us all to be happy, but it won’t happen until we make it happen, so lets make it happen, all of us, right now.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Top 5 Times I Almost Died

Note I tried to be as accurate as I could regarding the dates, although I am sure some of them are slightly off.

#5 June 6th, 1997 : I was at an Armenian picnic at the local park. It must have been somebody’s birthday. Me and the other Armenian youths went to play a game of soccer. When we finished we made our way back. We had to cross a small street where a motorcyclist was waiting for us to cross so that he could go. I was the last to cross and I had the soccer ball. As I was crossing I was just tossing the ball in the air and catching it. My last toss was just terrible, it went right behind me. Instead of just letting it go I ran back to catch it not really paying attention to the motorcyclist. I guess the idiot thought I crossed the street and not really paying attention either he hit the gas. Anyway as you can imagine, he ran me over. I didn’t realize what happened, all I knew was that something hit me really hard and I was on the ground and my leg hurt like hell. The guy stopped to see if I was okay. Me, for some reason wanting to act all tough in front of the Armenian girls, jump up like nothing is wrong and say “oh I’m fine, no problem, doesn’t hurt at all” and the guy apologizes and rides off. One girl comes up to me and says “what the hell is the matter with you, the guys’ motorcycle drove over one of your legs and you say you’re okay?” I was like “really? He actually drove over one of my legs? Awesome!” She looks at me and says “You’re an idiot” and walks away. I limp back to my parents. That night I couldn’t sleep at all because of the pain in my leg. But I guess it wasn’t broken because I never went the doctor and it never hurt again. But that was close.
#4 December 12th, 1995. It was winter and we lived on a second floor and we had a balcony. So There I was on the balcony leaning over for some reason I don’t remember anymore. Anyway I must have leaned over too far because I fell from the balcony and landed on my back. Good thing it snowed a lot during the night so there was a lot of cushion otherwise I would have surely broken my back. But it was still very painful.
#3 October 22nd 1991: Returning home after school I was being chased by two bullies who always picked on me. Running like crazy I was crossing the bridge when all of a sudden my backpack got caught on the rail causing me to swing against the railing where I received a puncture wound to my temple from a rusty nail that was sticking out. I was bleeding all over as I made my way home. When I got home my hysterical mother and my always calm grandfather drove me to the clinic where I was stitched up. The doctor said that had the nail wounded my slightly deeper I would have died.
#2 July 12th, 1996: I’m at some educational type summer camp in Kansas. It’s the weekend so they take us all to some kind of water park. At this water park there is this huge ass pool that has artificial waves so it acts like the ocean or something. Now at that time I couldn’t swim at all, and my friend at the camp couldn’t swim either. So we decided to get some kind of an inflatable boat thing where we sit and float in this huge pool. While we are floating, another friend of ours, this huge fat dude swims towards us and without even asking starts to climb into our inflated boat. We tell him to stop but it’s too late. The fat bastard tips the boat over and the next thing I know is that me and my friend are drowning. Really drowning. I am underwater I can’t swim I am tugging at him he is tugging at me and we are seriously drowning. In a minute we get saved by none other than our fat friend who put us in the water in the first place. He pulls us into the boat again and we are safe. Then he wants us to thank him for saving our lives. What an asshole.
#1 September 11th 2001: No I wasn’t in New York nor at the pentagon. On the morning of 9/11 after dropping off my sister at school I made a right turn on a street going east with the sun so bright that all I can see was white I couldn’t see anything at all. Instead of slowing down for safety I just kept going even though I knew there is a traffic light in front of me, hoping its green I keep going, I was wrong. It was a red light and the cars were crossing, crossing fast, as I barely managed to drive right through them. Amazingly I didn’t hit anybody, however had there been a second of a difference I would surely have died.

Friday, July 6, 2007

new blog address creates emptiness for weeks

When did the blog address change. For weeks I have felt empty not being able to reach the old website and finally I find out that there is a new address. I am going to blame Ashot for the lack of communication, trust and blogging friendship...I could blame K-berg also but I feel its too cliche to blame the Jews....especially if its coming from a Muslim.

Thursday, July 5, 2007

Why London is NOT...HOT


Ok, so I just have some time to write a piece on my recent travels around the Western World and I hope I have some interesting things to say. You see, I was trying to discover some hidden aspects of this world so my first stop was London. As everyone knows, the world was built upon London, not Rome or Athens...no London was really the first megapower with colonies in far-off worlds of Asia, America and Africa - see in many ways, London is like AAA, there when you need them bad and there to help you out with a quick fix. They also had the steam engine. So what could be better......or so I thought.


Just one example, stay with me here.


Alex, a fellow traveler of mine and I settled into a cafe, i don't remember its name. He has the pictures, in the case you are seriously curious.


Well, the waitor approached us. That's where the trouble began. His English was not strong and for some reason, I immediately knew what to get, just some tea. I didn't want to confuse him and didn't have time for a full meal. Well, in fact, I changed my mind and ordered coffee. Being a coffee lover, I expected a large cup, 20oz, 16oz, dammit even 6 oz would have been sufficient. All I got were 2 dinky ounces. in a small porcelain cup. 4.00 euros.


WTF?! I traveled half way around the world to get this. Haha, that was half the trouble. My buddy, ordered a water. He just wanted it out of the tap. He got sparkling water in a nice bottle. In any case, he was pissed even more than I was, his water cost more than my coffee...think about it. His water cost more than my coffee and he didn't even want it. Well he ended up paying for it and eventually only ordered tap water after that.


Whats funny is that the waitor, along with others would stoop over us like a cloud while we were counting our change and grabbed it as soon as we were done. This is prevelant apparentely in the Western European countries. Fourtunately, he got little tip as the service sucked and you get what you deserve.


There are countries that rock in Europe mainly Holland, France and Germany. The UK could really use some work in the service department.


Our conclusion: Everything in America is better, bigger and cheaper so don't travel to UK if you are looking for fun. Vegas will suffice. Moreover, if you are dying to travel abroad, Israel is the place to go. Or Armenia. Just the two of those. You will enjoy them. Trust me.

Tuesday, June 26, 2007

A real life Doogie Howser


Casually looking through the news on the internet today I couldn’t help noticing the headline I saw on MSN news “Teen surgeon flees as police plan to arrest him.” Teen surgeon??? What the heck? I’m almost 25 and I’m only done with my first year of medical school, how the heck does this teenager a surgeon already? I had to read to find out. Turns out that the teen is only 15 years old and he actually delivered a baby by Caesarean section. How the heck is this possible? Well, it turns out he is a son of two surgeons, brown too (most likely Indian based on the dot I see on the mothers forehead, aha I’m so smart). The father of the boy really wanted his son to get into the Guinness Book of World Records as the youngest surgeon in history. Unbelievable. What’s really funny is that the boy took off running to avoid arrest. I can just see him at a bar talking to the bartender, “they just don’t appreciate my genius, they don’t understand what I can do man. I’ll take milk, make it chocolate.” The article didn’t really say, but I assume the boy got his medical training from his parents, probably by the time he turned 10. Amazing. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, brown people are too smart for their own good.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

Die Rushdie Die!

Looks like those silly Muslims got their panties all in a knot again. Oh Mohammedans, what is it that got you all upset this time? No it’s not another cartoon about their prophet from the Netherlands; the Dutch learned their lesson well. Israel firing rockets into Gaza? Oh that happens everyday anyway; it can’t be that, right. Ah yes, I know what it is this time, that infidel Salman Rushdie got knighted recently. Yes, that would piss me off too, and I’m not even a Muslim. The guy is a terrible writer and the only reason he is even famous is because he angered a lot of Muslim by his allegory of the prophet Mohammad in his novel The Satanic Verses. I read that book. The most boring piece of shit literature I’ve read since I had to read The Color Purple in college, and at least that book was about a lesbian.
Now some of you might say, oh you just didn’t understand the genius of Salman Rushdie. Are you serious? What kind of genius does it take to take the story of Mohammed, change his name into Mahound, and also change the names of the cities, kings, and the ancient gods, and then call it originality. Give me a break. And the Mohammed story was just half of the book, the rest of the book was a painfully boring battle between two humans who fell from a plane in the sky and lived, one became a self absorbed angel while the other became a depressed demon. The premise sounds very interesting, but trust me it was not, it was the most boring book I ever picked up to read. The book is so packed of allegories and metaphors that in the end I just felt like puking my guts out. So why does he get knighted? Well, it can’t be because of his book, it was terrible. He got knighted because he converted from being Indian, into being British, and because he pissed off a lot of Muslims. So, the message, “join us, be like us, say fuck off to your own people, and we will let you into our club and give you reward and here take this sexy woman as your wife” The son of a bitch does have a hot wife, damn.
The question is, are the Muslims overreacting just as they were overreacting with the Dutch cartoons? Why and why not? You all can comment about that if you wish, after I give my own opinion.
Of course they are overreacting. They are overreacting as they have always been overreacting, acting on emotion instead of reason. However, I think it’s wrong to think that the Muslims are the only ones that overreact when their prophet gets questioned or disrespected. They are not alone. Remember back when Dan Brown first wrote that terrible, terrible, god-awful piece of writing called The Da Vinci Code? Why the Catholic Church was furious. Not just the Catholics, why the whole Christendom was upset at Brown. He was criticized widely, not just for his terrible writing skills, or his poor research of European art history, but of course for his claims that Jesus Christ did not die, but lived on to give birth to the first royal lineage of French monarchs. Ha! Take that England! Anyway, the whole scandal was repeated when they made the movie, again there was outrage from Vatican City, there were calls to boycott the movie, and I believe some cities across the world banned the movie from being shown.
That was one example. There are more, such as the unearthing of Joshua’s tomb. The tomb had an inscription that supposedly said “Joshua, son of Jesus.” Anyway there was outcry and outrage in this episode as well. And let’s not forget the battle of the Ten Commandments in the Alabama state judiciary building, where the government removed a monument to the Ten Commandments that drew lots of outrage and protesting from the Christian community. So it happens to all religious crazies across the world, not just the Muslims. However, even with that said, nobody burns as many things or throws as many stones as the Muslims do when they protest. Nothing can top that. Except perhaps blowing up abortion clinics and operation Shock and Awe baby! Oh yeah. Check and mate.

Sunday, June 10, 2007

Psychopathic dream?

I woke up from a very weird dream this morning. I don’t remember most of the dream, except that I was part of a raid on some people. I remember I was part of some group but who they were and why I was with them I don’t know. The group was going around and killing everybody in sight, and I was doing the same. Men, women, no matter who got in my way I would either stab them with what I remember was a long ass sword which was in my left hand, or shoot them with a revolver that was in my right hand. So there I was running around with a weapon in each hand, sword in left, revolver in right, killing everybody in my way. I would run up to some woman and just stab her deep in her stomach with my sword and watch her die. Then I would run up to some dude and just shoot him in the face with my revolver. Sounds creepy right? Yeah I know, it’s a good thing I am not some psychopath.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

I wash my hands (rerun)

I do, but not every one of my fellow student does the same. I was at the library studying and I went to use the restroom, there was another guy in there that I recognized as one of the second year med students. When I finished, I washed my hands. He did not, he didn't even flush the toilet, he left without washing his hands. That bothered me. Here is why.I wash my hands everytime I use the facilities. I never used to do it that often, but ever since I began my journey to become a physican I make sure to wash my hands everytime I use the bathroom, especially in public restrooms. Why? Is it because I know something now that I didn't now before, no. I knew before that I should always wash my hands, just like I know it now, its just that now, I am in training to become a professional, one that is held to a certain higher standard and needs to be a role model to his fellow citizen for many things, one of which is HYGIENE. How can I tell others to obey the laws of hygiene, at least while in public, if I don't do it myself. Am I wrong? Am I wrong for thinking the guy will make a worthless doctor? I could be wrong, its just that I feel so damn right.

Friday, May 18, 2007

Why half a lamb is better than no lamb at all


To make sure I don’t embarrass my friends, I will not mention the place nor the time of the following events and will only refer to them as Q (the girl) and J (the guy). Also, the following story is completely true, but most parts have been exaggerated or embellished to add some extra flavor.

It all began when I first found out that both Q and J are fellow country men whose parents emigrated from same country. I met J first, back in orientation and I met Q later on in beginning of block 2. I liked them both instantly and when I found out their common heritage, I knew that they belonged together, and it would be my duty to get them to fall in love and thus completely my dream of becoming a Hanuma.

I decided to approach J first because I knew him longer and better than I did Q at that point in time. As I thought of a perfect way to introduce the idea of Q as his future lover and wife, my mind came up blank, so I improvised and did the first thing that came to my mind.
“You’ve got the hots for Q, man!”
“What???”
“I know you like her dude, don’t hide it.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
As you can see this did not work out too well, so I had to change my strategy, or rather think of a strategy. So I started to think, but it was hard, I had no prior Hanuma experience. “What would a real Hanuma do?” I asked myself. Fortunately for Armenians, there just happens to be a movie made by Armenia, titled Hanuma, which is about a Hanuma, doing her thing. In my desperate hour, I turned to this movie, for inspiration. After I finished watching the tape, I was ready to do some serious match making. According to the film, one way to set up a match, can be as simple as just introducing the idea, its like giving them the push that is needed. This time, I decided to approach Q.
“So Q, what do you think of J?”
“He seems like a nice guy.”
“Oh he’s nice alright, very niiiiice, right?”
“Ummmm, okay.”
Realizing I don’t really know what to say next, I started to nod my head and move my eyes towards the directions of J while moving my eyebrows up and down as I nod towards him. To my surprise she began to do the same eye moving, head nodding, eye brow raising maneuver. At first I took this to be great success and kept up the hinting glances and nods towards J on a daily basis. Q would always respond but only later did I realize that it was nothing more than Qs self-defense strategy in the form of sarcasm. I decided she needed more persuasion, so I approached her again a day later. This time I decided to be more direct.
“So, you know you and J are from same country, you should get married.”
“What???”
“You know, he comes from real good family, it be good match.”
“Listen, why you doing this? You want to make it really awkward for me to be in class?”
“Nooo, I just think you two would make a great husband and wife.”
“You are so racist, you think just because we are both from same country that means we only can marry each other! You need to stop embarrassing me! You either stop or else I won’t talk to you anymore!”
Well that didn’t go exactly as planned, but I’m sure she started to think about him in a whole new way, so I thought anyway. I decided to cut my loses with Q and shift my attention to J. This time I knew what I would say to him.
“So, you totally got the hots for Q, man.”
“What??? Are up to no good again?”
“Admit it dude, she would make a nice wife, right?”
“Yeah, I guess, but where do you think the vegas nerve is?”
“Dude just let E find it he loves that shit, I’m talking about Q man! She likes you man.”
“Oh whatever, shut up! Why don’t you help me tell the difference between this nerve and artery.”
“What? Who cares, I’m talking about your future wife here. She is from good family, I don’t know if your country does dowries, but I’m sure hers would be huge.”
“Can you pass the smaller scissors?”
“What the hell dude? Are you listening to me?”
“No, you’re talking out of your ass, you’re embarrassing me and Q, and you need to stop before you make it really awkward for us even to be friends.”
“Be friends? You need to stop worrying about being friends, and start thinking about how to get your parents and her parents to discuss wedding arrangements.”
“Enough, we need to go over the heart now.”
And so my efforts to bring two hearts together failed. Not only did I fail to make these two fall in love, my efforts backfired. I noticed the two were no longer comfortable around each other. For instance, every time they would start a conversation, I noticed they would always look at me to make sure I wasn’t doing no head nodding or eyebrow rising. Slowly their conversations would deteriorate and then it got worse later on when they would constantly argue. I didn’t know what to do to help, the damage was done, there was no going back, and today they are barely on speaking terms, all because of my failure as a Hanuma. Later after the year ended, I asked my father why I failed. He told me its because Hanuma is for Armenians, and every people have their own matchmaker. But I have my own theory. I failed because I was too liberal on this whole issue by approaching Q and J themselves. They are young and foolish and way too emotional. I should have acted more traditionally and gone straight to their parents, negotiated a deal and then collected my two lambs and then go make good horovats, which is Armenian for shishkabab.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

What is Hanuma papa?

Those that really know Armenians know them to be (among other things) great businessman. Armenians are good at finding ways to make extra money outside their profession. My father is no exception. Back in Russia, he sold and rented VHS tapes, when we came to the State at one point he was operating as many as three different businesses; a shishkabab stand during Husker games, importing and selling Russian porcelain, and yes, even a dating service for Armenian singles that he called Hanuma.
Naturally I asked my father “what is Hanuma papa?”

He smiled and looking away with a look of nostalgia he replied “well my son, back in Armenia, dating was not as complicated as it is here. If your parents were having a difficult time finding you a suitable spouse, they would turn to the local Hanuma. Hanuma is a name given to a woman who is paid…no no son, not for that, she is paid to be what you call a matchmaker. A family will pay Hanuma to find them a suitable bride or groom. Hanuma will go around looking for available young men and women who are seeking a husband or wife and then she will introduce him. If it works out, she gets two lambs, if it doesn’t she only gets half a lamb.”

“But what does this all have to do with your business?” I asked him.

“My dimwitted son, I have named my dating service Hanuma because I will be making matches for single Armenians living in America who have a hard time finding someone to love. People will send me their photo and a description of themselves, and I will match them with someone else, send those pictures and descriptions and then they will decide whether to meet or not. For that they will pay me a small but reasonable fee.”

As I listen to him I heard my calling in life. That day I promised myself that one day I would be a Hanuma, just like my father. Fortunately for me, I was only 10 and I quickly forgot my promise, and didn’t remember it again until my first year of medical school, when I saw a perfect opportunity to be a matchmaker for two friends of mine, who were lonely, single, and although not Armenian, where also foreign. I told myself I will prove that I can be a Hanuma just like my father by making sure that these two fall in love and get married. In the end I proved to be a terrible Hanuma as my story will show.

To be continued…

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

The Facebook Got Me

You know that Gloria Estefan song, the one that goes “the rhythm is going to get you?” Well they should make another song, one about facebook that goes “the facebook is going to get you!” After years and years of fierce resistance to join the facebook clan, I have finally capitulated and signed on to facebook. Some questions might come up such as why was I so resistant and who convinced me to join in the end? Back when I first heard of facebook, I was resistant because I didn’t really know what it was. First I thought it might be a dating thing, and so I figured “well I don’t need any help in that department” then I thought it was some thing for popular people, and I didn’t feel like competing in that, also I didn’t see any point in it because I figured if I need to tell any thing to my friends I would just call them on the phone. Final reason is that most of my friends in good old Lincoln Nebraska were users of myspace, so when I moved to Toledo, I opened a myspace account because I figured it would be a great way to keep in touch with my friends.

What do I think of facebook? I love it. What a great way to keep in touch with people. I already go a hold of some of my lost friends from high school and undergrad. Three of my good friends that I went to college with, well they went to medical school in Nebraska, and I lost track of them. Well after I joined facebook I found them and now we can stay in touch, it’s awesome. Another cool part is that you can put how you know a person when you make them a friend. It was really cool when I noticed that Roman put me as his cousin. Niiiiiiiiiice! But the best part is that me and Marianna are both on facebook and we can put that we are in relationship with each other. Very niiiiice!
But there is a negative, as there is a negative to everything. Negative thing number one, anybody I ever knew can find me and request to be my friend on facebook. That means they can see how I look now, what I am doing now, who my girlfriend is, who my friends are, where I live. Well, there are people out there that I rather have nothing to do with, and this makes it hard to do, since it turns out to be rude to not accept people as your friend on facebook. Second negative, I noticed I am spending a lot more time on facebook then I am writing and reading blogs. First thing I do when I get on computer is check my facebook to see if anyone requested me as a friend, or if someone left me a message, or if my friends have any new pics, preferably with me in them making a fool of myself (…NOT). This is addicting, but I figure that its only addicting since I just started to use facebook. I am sure over time I’ll get bored of it just as the rest of you must have, I hope anyway. The End.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

My minimi-preceptorship (rerun)

As most of you (people who read my blog) know, last week was mini-preceptorship week here at our school, so I went. My day to go was last wednesday, so I went. I put on my nice pants, yes it was nice, and my nice shirt, yes it was nice, and my nice tie, which was not so much. I also put on my white coat, because I had to. I still feel like I don't deserve to put on that coat as of yet, maybe when I earn it, but I don't feel I earned it yet, so as you can imagine I felt uncomfortable going to the hospital wearing my white coat. I get there and only then do I realize that they sent me to a pediatric urology office. You guessed it, it was all about weiner kids and their weiner problems, you know wetting the bed and stuff like that. So it was intersting. I was supposed to follow around a certified nurse, but she was kind enough to let me followe around some residents and doctors. Well, do I have a funny story for you. During one session with a mother and her two month old baby son, the doctor was explaining to the mother what was wrong with the baby boys little doodle, because it didn't develop properly and had to have surgery to fix it. Anyway, once he was showing the mother the problem, the kid decided it was time to use the facilities. Well the kid didn't realize that the facilities, in other words the diaper, was off. So the stream of urine went right at the doctor. Next thing you know, the baby was wet, the doctor was wet, and we were all laughing. "Well, it happens" said the doctor. I am sure it happens alot, I thought. That is why I will never be a pediatric urologist. End of story.

First posted on 12/10/06

Sunday, May 13, 2007

10 things to survive year 1


Well, now that we are done with Year 1, its time to relect on what happened and what should have happened. Here is a list of 10 things that in my opinion help those dealing with stress cope with it...from those techniques that can best help those cope to those that have not proven very successful...


1. Make a friend

2. Make a wife - or husband

3. Play Xbox 360

4. "Befriend" a professor

5. Write a post

6. Make a comment on a post

7. Pretend to laugh, or joke

8. Make some exercise

9. Make some sleep

10. Study

The above 10 are somewhat alterable. If you have any other suggestions, please feel free to comment.

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Asking questions is over-rated (rerun)

Over the last fall, I, like most of the people in the backrow, have come to realize that asking questions is over-rated. And not just asking questions from the backrow is over-rated, but for the backrow, other people in class asking questions during the lecture is also over-rated. First of all for us in the back row, it’s futile to raise our hand to ask a question about the lecture. The professors, they never notice us in the back, its as if to them, we don’t exist, its like we are an outer province that doesn’t get paid attention to and is left to develop on its on. If we even ever ask a question, we don’t raise our hands any more, that has long been abandoned. Now we just yell it out, as my friend Tahir does so well “Hey Dr. Yeasting, the decidua does what now?” Well, he doesn’t exactly ask like that, but you get the idea. Then the rest of the class thinks the backrow is rude and uncultured, but this is what the class has reduced us to, how else are we to strive in the back without resulting to less then proper manners. What the rest of the class forgets at times is that we are medical school students too. Just because we sit in the back doesn’t mean we are less medical student then the rest of the class. All medical students were created equal. Its in the honor code (I think). So don’t assume we are beneath you all, in fact, we are actually above you all, physically speaking that is. So we deserve the same amount of time as that silly first row in the far left, that averages one question per person per lecture. That’s just silly. I am sure that the rest of the class (not just the backrow) will agree with me when I say, 4 out of 5 times, the far left first row ask questions that have nothing to do with what we need to know for the exam. They ask the question, and you start looking through your notes, only to realize “oh wait that’s an extra-lectural question”. It gets to the point that whenever the far left first row asks a question, at least for me, that mean break time. I lay back in my chair, and relax and let the professor explain to the them why its this way and not this way and why sometimes it can be this way and then one time it is so this way that the other way doesn’t matter and so on. And when other people in class ask a question, a question that might be important, nobody in the backrow, can even hear it. Sometimes the professor just answers “yes that’s correct” and you’re like, “what? What is correct, what was the question?” But you don’t know what the freaking questions was because the professor doesn’t repeat the question, and you’re left confused, feeling sorry for your self. So the point, questions are over-rated. At least I think so. What do you think?

First posted on 12/1/06

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

A National Hero of the Greatest Former Country of All Time?


Drop What you are Doing...and Listen to me. I never asked you to do this, so just listen. For 38 seconds.

I was just on Wikipedia and a great event has occured...A man by the name of Hovhannes Bagramyan is being acknowledged for what he did for the country of the USSR. You must go on Wikipedia and read about him. I know nothing of him, except that he looks smart, and Armenian. Is that not enough?

PS I have been out-of-service if you will for the past few days. My trip to Florida was excellent and I have many stories to tell all of you. However, let's get past these few finals and then we will talk again. Adieu to all.

Monday, May 7, 2007

The end of a friendship


There is something that’s been on my mind recently and now it seems the only thing to do is to write a blog about it. How can I start this?
Sike! Ha-ha. Just kidding. I had you going didn’t I? Ha-ha. I’m just messing with ya. You all thought this was going to be another one of those “serious” blogs. Well, we had enough serious blogs as it these days; I’m not going to pull another one on you. Ha-ha. You might notice that the title of this blog doesn't make any sense compared to its content. Actually, this blog is not supposed to make any sense. If the poll on “what kind of blogs do you enjoy?” is correct, then people appreciate blogs about Elvis, but since the King started bloging recently, I figured writing a blog about Elvis serves no point. Therefore I went to the next most voted category, which turned out to be “nonsense blogs.” So here we are. You ever noticed how trashy our library gets on weekends? I swear, every weekend I get to the library, the trashcans are all full of trash. Sometimes it gets so bad, that it overflows, and there is no where to toss your empty bottle of soda-pop or your can of Red Bull. Speaking of Red Bull, isn’t it kind of freaky that those young Red Bull people keep coming to our school and hanging outside of our class rooms handing out free Red Bulls? I mean is this just plain altruistic generosity to exhausted med school students who need any extra source of energy they can get, or is there some kind of more sinister motive going on here? I mean what do they put into this stuff anyways, ever since they started handing out Red Bulls, I can’t stop craving this shit. I’m already on my third red bull today, and two weeks ago I never even touched the stuff. I guess the first step always is to admit you have a problem, well it aint my fault damn it, I can’t be held responsible when people hand out free red bulls. So what about the high gas prices these days? I mean shit, that sucks, I have to get gas tomorrow and I am afraid to look at the price. I guess May 15th is supposed to be gas boycott day, supposedly they boycotted gas for a day back in 1997 and the next the day the gas dropped 30 cents. Big deal right? Then it went up 30 cents gain the day after that. Screw you Big Oil, go eat a ****.

Saturday, May 5, 2007

A word from your Godfather: The difference between a real gangsta and a wangsta!


Lately there has been much speculation about which blog is funnier or real and tensions have been escalating between the two groups. One thing true in the backrowballers website is "In the Back Row of medical school, the people are represented by two separate, yet equally important groups." There are those who sit on the left side, who try really hard to be funny and cool, but they just come off phony and weak, these are the backrowballers. Then there are the real funny ones, the true gangsters, the backrowgangster. Let me tell y'all something about the backrowballers. Listen I’m from Detroit, and I know a baller when I see one, and I know these girls and let me tell you they aint no ballers. They fit more along the lines of future desperate housewives. In fact their leader, Mariam, by virtue of having written the most blog entries, is so not hip that she doesn't even know what a true baller is. Don't get me wrong, Mariam is probably a pretty intelligent girl and she already has the Webster definition of 'baller' already memorized but that's not what we are talking about here. How can you call a baller someone to whom I had to explain what 'brush your shoulders off' means?

Now let's take a closer look at the backrowgangsters. There is a Balkan Badass from Albania, an Uzbeki Jew who is part of the Russian Mafia, we got a direct descendant of King Xerxes who will bitch slap you back to Persia, an Armenian thug who shoots first and asks questions later, and one Pakistani Caliph Jamil who’ll cut your head off if you look at him wrong. Need I say anything else, these guys are true gangsters, real goodfellas. They are the real deal. No posers here. So to end this entry here's a few words of wisdom for the backrowballers, drop the act, and stick to what you know, Veronica Mars, shopping, and gossiping.

So backrowballers funny...NOT! But the backrowgangsters...I like!

Friday, May 4, 2007

An additional category has been added to the Blog Award Ceremony

My dearest apologies,

I forget to add a crucial category in the blog awards. The "best comment on a blog award." This award is really for all the little people out there who bring meaning to the blog, who truly are enriched and inspired by the wonder of blogging. This award is open to people who post blogs as well.

He beat them all in chess, but he lost in the end.

Caution, this is a long and serious blog.
I know that the Virginia Tech massacre happened a while ago, but there was something that I wanted to write about it, but I never got the chance to, until I started to think about it again today. Whenever these things happen, there is always shock and there is always grief about the victims and rage against the killer. It’s natural to feel sorry for victims, but what about the killer, should we be sorry for him, or hate him? I don’t know. Back when the pictures of the killer came out on the news, I remember seeing those pictures of him holding a gun to his head or pointing a gun or a knife, and I remember that the emotions that came to me were not rage, anger or hate. I felt sad. Looking at his face in the photos I saw hate and anger, but I also saw pain and suffering. I felt sorry for this man as I tried to imagine what could have caused this fellow human to become inhuman. I am not saying that I feel empathy towards him, I am not saying that there is anything that can excuse what he done, what he did was terrible. However, I believe we should not just concentrate on blaming him, or his parents, or whatever, we need to look around.
Something that bothered me during this time was how the media was glorifying what he did. “Greatest shooting in US history… biggest loss of life since…etc” was all over the news. You know, this guy probably murdered all those innocent people, because nobody ever gave him the attention that he craved, and doing this heinous deed he believed would grant him the attention he so desired or give him some kind of significance that he believed he lacked. Well, looks like he got what he wanted, thanks to the media, he was on every channel and was discussed and “analyzed” for days. This country will keep having their “Columbines” and “Virginia tech massacres” as long as people think they can get attention by committing these acts, and the media is proving them right.
This also reminded me of someone I knew in high school. His name was Joel and he was a real asshole, a typical delinquent, a bully if you will. Joel was pretty intelligent also, although he never worked hard in school, and missed most days of it. One time Joel and I were involved in a fist fight, but I still never hated him, I felt bad for him because I knew he had problems. One time I went to play chess at the chess club meeting (yes that does sound like a nerd thing to do) and I was losing to this huge nerd, when Joel showed up and started to give every nerd a hard time before he stopped by my table and started to help me, telling me which moves to make, in the end, with Joel’s help I ended up beating the nerd. After that, Joel played a game with everyone else and he beat all of them, then he left, he never came back to play chess again. Next year one day after the Columbine massacre, someone called in a bomb threat to our school. Later I would learn it was Joel, he was expelled from school and as far as I know, he was sent to military school (yeah because that’s would you do to troubled youths who call in bomb threats, right). I never saw Joel again.
Later on in my second year of college I heard from my high school friends that Joel was dead. He came back to Lincoln after military school and lived on the streets, involved in various gangs, one day he was murdered, shot in the chest. This news made me sad, because even though he was an asshole, even though he probably had a conduct disorder, for some reason I know that deep down, he was a good person. Rest in peace Joel. I guess the point of this blog is that I believe some people are born bad and some people become bad, those that become bad, they were once good, and can be good again, if only we give then a chance. Unfortunately most of them don’t get the chance, and then they either die or commit something atrocious.