Reflections on 15 years

This past weekend, I had the opportunity to partake in my 15-year high school class reunion, and I must say, it was a fantastic experience!

For a number of years, I've remained friends with a handful of former classmates, and naturally have fallen out of touch with many others. But through the magic of Facebook (sarcasm not intended, even though the term is often loaded with it), I've been able to reconnect with a lot of former classmates, and this past Saturday afforded me the opportunity to do so in person.

The reunion was held at Appalachian Brewing Company (more popularly known as "ABC") in Harrisburg, PA, and for the better part of the evening, we had the upstairs to ourselves (even though what looked like a wedding reception was being held in the next room). For three hours, I worked the room like I rarely do, talking and catching up with many old friends and classmates, essentially getting to know them all over again—though as adults, not as middle or high school students.

What struck me as amazing about this reunion was that all the things that made high school, well, high school, were conspicuously absent. Gone were the cliques, the arrogance, the snottiness, and all the associated doucebaggery that makes high school so childish. That night, we simply related to each other as human beings, and it made the associations so much more refreshing. As one person noted, 15 years was a good enough wait-time after graduation to hold this, because five years would have been too soon, 10 years would have been on the fence, but 15 years was just right.

Out of my graduating class of 127 (give or take), I'd say maybe a quarter showed up. Naturally I was saddened that so many people I looked forward to seeing didn't make it, but hopefully they'll attend in the future. But I'm nevertheless grateful to have had the opportunity to catch up with old friends, and I thank the organizer for making this reunion happen.

UDA Class of 1996
(Photo by Jer Strausser, used with his wife's permission)

A most unusual start to July

So July got off to an unusual start, all things considered. It began like any other month, and the original plans had been quite simple: the first full week would be just another week (only one workday shorter because of 4th of July), and Nora and I planned to celebrate our three-year dating anniversary on the 6th. But on Tuesday, July 5, things took an unexpected turn.

For close to a week beforehand, I had been having various abdominal pains. I didn't quite know what was causing them, though I theorized (and you'll forgive me for being graphic going forward) that I might be constipated. It didn't help that I'd eaten a lot of crap since Friday, July 1: a catered dinner at our friends Ashley and Billy's wedding rehearsal, drinks and lots of fatty appetizers later that same evening, lunch at a Front Royal pizzeria the next day (though I had a meatball sandwich rather than pizza), another catered dinner at Ashley and Billy's wedding—and for our denouement, chili half-smokes and cheese fries at Nationals Park on Monday. And for my second denouement, two Georgetown Cupcakes on Tuesday, July 5, around lunchtime.

This led to some pretty hefty abdominal cramping on Tuesday right after lunch (though that morning I woke up feeling a tiny bit nauseous, which passed in relatively short order)—enough to make me consider skipping a doctor appointment I'd scheduled for later that week and instead opting right for the emergency room.

So I left work early and drove to the Reston ER, where they ran some tests and told me I had pancreatitis, which is basically inflammation of the pancreas. A possible cause mentioned was gallstones, which meant that my gallbladder might have to be removed. After they consulted with my primary care doctor, I was transferred to Inova Alexandria for hospitalization and observation.

Suffice it to say, I was rather nervous, because the last time I had been a hospital patient was when I was nine years old (bike accident), and I wasn't keen on the idea of having a body part removed, even a redundant one like the gallbladder.

Nora and I arrived at Inova Alexandria around 9:00 that evening, and I was up in my hospital room maybe an hour later. I was informed that I might have an ultrasound overnight, and that a doctor would speak to me in the morning about my test results. I went to bed around 11:00, and the rest of the night was not your typical night: at 1:30 am, I was awakened by a nurse who asked about my diet and informed me that an ultrasound would take place in another hour; at 2:30 am, I was awakened again to be taken downstairs for my ultrasound, which lasted until close to 4:00 am; at 5:30, I was awakened to have blood drawn, and sometime between 7:30 and 8:00 on July 6, I woke up to start the day.

My breakfast consisted of a full liquid diet—hot chicken broth, Jell-O, and cranberry juice. The IV I had been hooked up to since the night before kept me nice and hydrated, though it had two uncomfortable side effects: 1) it increased my blood pressure a bit more than I liked, and 2) I was visiting the men's room every 10 minutes—and carrying with me the IV hookup on wheels. I liked to use the analogy that it was like constantly walking the dog . . . though a dog that only went where it wanted to go.

I nervously waited throughout the morning for the doctor to come and speak to me, and he came shortly after lunch. He went over my test results, though I wasn't as comforted as I'd hoped to be, primarily because tests didn't find a cause for my pancreatitis. The ultrasound showed no gallstones, which itself was good news (because it meant that no body parts needed removing), but it didn't bring us any closer to finding the cause. Though various pancreatic enzymes were currently down to more normal levels after being highly elevated upon admission to the Reston ER, which was good news.

After talking at length with my doctor, the prevailing theory was this: even though gallstones didn't show up on the ultrasound, it was possible that I had some beforehand that passed from my system before coming to the ER; these gallstones could in turn could have caused a blockage in my pancreas, which would have caused the inflammation. The treatment was simply that the inflammation had to run its course, but to help it along, I'd have to adhere to a low-fat diet for a while (or at least after I returned to eating solid food). The doctor wanted me to stay one more night for observation, and if I showed progress (or at least didn't worsen), I could be released the following day.

Nora arrived at the hospital shortly after my visit with the doctor, and with July 6 being our three-year anniversary, we got to celebrate not with candles and wine but with two distinctly different hospital meals: pork, gravy, cooked potatoes, and steamed broccoli for Nora; chicken broth, Jell-O, and cranberry juice for me. Not my ideal celebration, but it did the trick. :) I got a new roommate that day, too: a very nice gentleman from Virginia Beach (I think his name was Bill) who had an equally nice family (his wife and adult daughter, who looked remarkably like a co-worker). I also had a visitor: Will, who came by late in the day bearing the gift of ginger ale.

By Thursday, my abdomen was still somewhat sore, but hadn't worsened any. According to the doctor, I would be feeling residual abdominal pain until the inflammation went away completely. He used the analogy of a sprained ankle—that it would still smart for a few days, even though the ankle was healing. With that in mind, the doctor was comfortable with the possibility of me going home that day. Which was fine with me, because going home is always a great feeling. (Plus, I had not one but two wailing patients near my room who were causing trouble with the nurses.) To test the waters of wellness, my doctor upped my diet from pure liquid to some possible solid foods. I was given cream of wheat at breakfast, and I think it was lunch that they went the full monty and allowed me to have pasta with red sauce, accompanied by cooked asparagus. My abdomen reacted well on all occasions, and by 6:30 that night, I was officially discharged from the hospital.

I was very happy to be home (and also to have the IV hookup removed from my hand!), and the first order of business was a nice, long shower. In all fairness, I probably didn't smell too good from not showering for two days. ;) But I've been eating a lot more fruits and veggies since then, have dropped about six or seven pounds (the liquid diet probably had a lot to do with that), and generally feel well. Once in a while my abdomen might protest slightly if I eat something naughty, but overall the pains have subsided, which is a huge relief.

Like I said, an unexpected way to start July.

Congratulations, Ashley & Billy!

The two-year anniversary of a beautiful memory

Piggybacking on yesterday's post where I noted how Michigan football can't get its shit together, I decided to mark the two-year anniversary of a beautiful football memory. (Better turn up your volume, though.)



Though if you prefer the famous radio cry (at regular volume), here it is. Seriously, how you can not love that final shot of the stunned, silent Big House that's been brought to its knees?

Our one-year anniversary

Today, Nora and I celebrate one year together. :) And it's been quite a good year! Happy anniversary, my love!

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!

So young, full of hopes and dreams!

38 years later, both are thinking the same thing: "What have I done!"

Has it already been seven years?

I wish I had more to say, but I think the sight of the flag draped over the Pentagon, just to the side of where the plane struck seven years ago today, says it all.

The one-year anniversary of a beautiful memory

The half-smoke turns 50!

Yesterday, the Post ran a story on the 50th anniversary of one of the biggest DC culinary landmarks—Ben's Chili Bowl.

It's kind of odd that DC only has one signature food item to its name, but even so, it picked a good one! Because a Philly cheese steak has nothing on a chili half-smoke from Ben's! Only once have I graced the indoors of that famous U Street establishment, but with the opening of a Ben's Chili Bowl stand at Nationals Park, the flavor of a Ben's chili half-smoke has forever been branded onto my subconscious (not to mention my taste buds!).

To celebrate the half-century of Ben's, there's a block party taking place on U Street this afternoon, as well as a party at the 9:30 Club. I'd kinda like to attend that block party, but instead I'll be at work. Oh, well. In theory, I can celebrate by a visit to Ben's this weekend. :) At which time I'll raise my half-smoke in honor of 50 years of excellent fare that has since become an integral part of our nation's capital.

Verizon's Center's 10-year anniversary

Last night my father and I went to the Wizards-Raptors game, and unexpectedly got caught up in several celebrations. Mainly there were two: the 10th anniversary of the MCI Center Verizon Center, and the retiring of the #10 jersey, worn by Earl "The Pearl" Monroe.

There was a big halftime celebration for Earl the Pearl, and it included several video tributes, visits from former NBA stars from the 60s and 70s, and even a speech by Wizards owner Abe Pollin! Earl the Pearl naturally gave a speech to the fans, and he did a pretty good job (though did go on for a tad too long).

As part of the Verizon Center's celebrations, fans were given miniature Earl the Pearl jersey banners, as well as miniature ceramic arenas (with detachable roof).



If I hear true, the Verizon Center's 10-year anniversary is today! Which means that it was still a relatively new venue when I moved here in 2000. Kinda hard to believe (at least for me), because it doesn't feel like 7 years that I've been frequenting that arena for Caps and Wizards games.

A year of blogging!

Well, it has now officially been one year since I first began blogging. On a wing and a prayer, I posted my first entry a year ago tonight, and have made it a (semi) notable year since then:

• Reviewing close to 80 movies
• Live-blogging the Oscar ceremony this year
• Keeping up to speed on the Indy 4 sequel and Star Trek prequel
• Ranting, raving, and occasionally praising my Nittany Lions and Nationals
• Recognizing many birthdays
• Sharing a few laughs from my warped sense of humor
• Keeping everyone abreast about life here in the nation's capital

What can I say in closing except, may the coming year be another landmark year of blogging!

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!

37 years, and they haven't killed each other yet. That's gotta be a record! :)

'Twas 7 years ago today that it all started

It was exactly seven years ago today, on September 26, 2000, that a young, naive, and untested 22-year-old recent college grad named Fritz moved from Pennsylvania to the great big metropolis of metro Washington, DC. I can still remember that day well—waking up to a somewhat cool, cloudy sky, packing the last few bits of lightweight stuff into my car (a few days before my folks came down with the moving van), and driving down 81 towards my new apartment in Manassas, VA (yes, I did live pretty far out in the boonies my first year here).

I remember the feeling of wonder and satisfaction upon entering my new apartment, thinking that this apartment, this new home, was all mine! A lot of the glee came from living at home during the summer months in college, having to live with roommates while in college, and just the general yearning for independence, to have a place I could call my own.

That first day was largely spent unloading boxes from my car into my apartment, waiting for the Comcast guy to arrive, eating dinner from Taco Bell's drive-thru, and spending some of the evening browsing the Borders and Barnes & Noble along Sudley Road in Manassas.

It's so hard to believe that I've been living and working here for seven years now, how far I've come and how much I've grown as a person since then. When I think of all that I've accomplished, all the roads I've travelled, all the people who have come and gone from my life in that time, it truly blows my mind how much mileage I've accumulated here in Beltwayland. But I have to say, it's been well worth it, and I hope to have many more years here.

The day it all began

This is more of a sentimental anniversary than anything else, but it was 13 years ago today, at exactly 4:30 pm on Tuesday, August 2, 1994, that I began my first paying job.

At the ripe young age of 16, I officially entered the working world as a grocery store clerk at Kocher's IGA, the privately-owned local grocery store nestled in a tiny shopping plaza a mere two miles west of Elizabethville, PA.

I actually worked there for close to six years—spanning most of my high school era, as well as summers and Christmases home from college. My final stint there was a short week in March 2000, during a short Spring Break away from Penn State. After that, I never punched a timecard there again, as I began interning at Stackpole Books that following summer, and moved to DC two months later.

My time at Kocher's, while typical of the abysmal, minimum-wage, morally-downbeat, customer-service job that Kevin Smith glorified in Clerks, is still one I hold near and dear to me. I made many friends there, I have many happy memories from there . . . and my only regret is that I never had the chance to see the owner, Fred, without his toupee.

A belated anniversary

While I was away, I had to recognize one notable anniversary in absentia: June 24 marked my one-year anniversary at River House. I can't believe it's already been a year since I moved in, and suffice it to say . . . it's been a hell of a year!

I do admit to missing my old apartment in Alexandria sometimes (well, I did live there for five years!) and feeling a certain sadness when I remember what happened to that complex (it went through a very ugly condo conversion that, ironically, bottomed out in the end) . . . but all the same, moving to River House was definitely a good move, a big step upward in my quality of life, and I'm very grateful for the time I've spent living here.