The Walking in Memphis Project

Hey friends! Many of you have asked if you can help by donating things for my medical trip to Ecuador. THANK YOU. These are the top 3 things I am desperate for! Please contact me if you are interested in donating.

1) Adult velcro tie athletic shoes. They are in desperate need of these in the leprosarium (safe house for people with leprosy) where I will be visiting. Since people with this disease have often lost finger tips or the nerves in their hands, velcro tie shoes give them invaluable independence in dressing themselves.

2) Orphanage supplies: gently used children’s backpacks and clothing. Recently, the orphanage that I will be working in was flooded and they lost EVERYTHING but the clothes on their backs. We are trying to get enough supplies to ensure that these kids can continue to go to school by being properly clothed and adequately supplied (actually school supplies minus backpacks will be bought in country).

3) Funds - We have enough medical supplies donated from Mayo to fill 20+ bags, but not enough money to fly/ship all the bags down there. Every bag costs $60. Any little bit that you donate can help bring life saving supplies that I will personally deliver to the hospitals, so you don’t have to worry about any of your money going to advertising or administrative expenses like you usually would when donating.

I will bring a small gift back from Ecuador for anyone who donates $25 or more. THANK YOU for considering.

https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=H324N45YXTH2N

Today I was able to Macarena Bomb someone. I’ve been laughing about it all day.

What is a Macarena Bomb, you ask?

It’s something that I invented from the very depths of my heart, and I’m willing to share it with you, wonderful world. Something this beautiful can no longer be kept secret.

In order to Macarena Bomb someone, it’s best if you have easy access to them, ala you are either living in a college dorm, have roommates, or know this person intimately. You can Macarena Bomb someone random, but prepare for them to lose total respect for you and/or possibly murder you.

Once you’ve chosen who you will Macarena Bomb, you must wait until they are in a precarious and sensitive situation. My personal favorite is while they are dropping a turd, but it also works if they are showering, having sex, etc. You get the idea.

We’ll use pooping as our example, since I find this one the most funny. Once your friend is doing his/her business, quickly load the song “MACARENA” by Los delRioon your phone, stereo, etc – anything that plays music loudly. I will also accept remakes, as long as they are equally annoying. Note: Don’t let them hear it yet-you must catch them unaware.

Speed is of the essence for your next move. Burst open the bathroom door, turn off the light and fan in one swift motion, press play and toss your phone, stereo, whatever into the room, but not with their reach. Shut the door and run.

Then your friend (or former friend) will be forced to sit in the dark, in their own stank, listening to the Macarena, until their business is done.

You’re welcome.

When ”Walking in Memphis” came on the radio, I was in the middle of googling “how to make my hands not smell like oranges.”

Why, you ask?
 
Have you ever had a clementine?

They are the fruit world’s version of crack.

I’ve gone through 15 clementines in the last 24 hours.
 
THEY ARE AMAZING.
 
However, you can wash your hands 1,000 times after eating a single clementine and you will smell it for hours. My hands could definitely smell worse, I’m not arguing that, but nobody really wants to have orange-hand-smell on a Saturday night. Maybe on a Monday.

 I wasn’t able to find much info about ridding myself of orange smell, but google referred me to onion smell, and there was some interesting advice.

My favorites:

1. Soak your hands in milk and let sit. (I’ll take orange smell over rotten milk smell, thanks).
 
2. Rub your hands in a bucket of salt. (This just sounds painful on my winter hands, plus I don’t have a bucket of salt just sitting around. Pass.)
 
3. Wash your hands. (False. Plus, I’m willing to bet that anyone whose googled for advice on how to remove a smell from their hands has already tried washing them. Dumbass.)
 
4. Brush you hand with a stainless steel spoon. (I’m actually tempted to try this one, because it sounds so wacked-out-crazy that it just might work.)

When I started telling people about my New Years resolution, it was met with a lot of confusion.

Why would I be interested in keeping  a record of every time that I hear “Walking in Memphis?”

I will happily tell you.

For months, nay, YEARS, I have insisted that I hear WIM on a very regular basis – almost freakishly so—considering it is kind of an old song.

Has its copyright expired or something? Do people really miss Elvis that much (answer: yes.)? What’s the deal?

Yet everyone I know claims that they haven’t heard that song “in years” or “only like once every six months.” So whenever I say I still hear it all the time, people call bullshit on me.

Now it’s become “a thing,” and I’m curious how often I actually do hear this song. Am I being dramatic (it’s happened before), or am I just the only person in the world who notices that this song is on ALL THE TIME. Or perhaps this song has a mysterious pull towards me…kind of like the island in Lost.

Anyway, to maintain strict honesty, a (extremely type A) friend suggested I blog it. Otherwise, they claimed, the air times of the songs could never be confirmed (memo to self: get less crazy friends).

So in addition to blogging the time and dates that I hear the song, I’m also adding what I was doing or thinking right before it came on. Why? So I don’t get bored with this, which would otherwise probably happen after 2-3 posts. My attention span is pretty sho….

What was I saying?

Oh yes. The truth is out there….in 2012.

Today was the first time I heard Marc Cohn’s masterpiece, “Walking in Memphis” this year!

I was driving home from work, thinking I was going to need a glass of wine and an old episode of the Office to lull me to sleep. Why? This was the conversation I had with my patient all night.

Patient: (blood curdling scream) HELP!

Me: What’s wrong?

Patient: Nothing.

Me: Do you need help?

Patient: No.

Thirty seconds of silence.

Patient: HELP!

And repeat.

For EIGHT AND A HALF HOURS.

Thank you, Mr. Cohn, for providing me with some much needed car karaoke after a stressful night!