Entertain Me

Okay. Now... Go!

I'm bored. There were only three patients scheduled this morning - the first one scheduled at ten. Which meant that when I showed up at a quarter after 9, prepared to make some generic "didn't feel good/moved slow this morning" excuse, the lights were off and no one was home. Thankfully, the ten am appointment showed up (randomly) at 8:45, so I had something to keep me slightly busy. But then, the 10:30 and the 11 am both canceled. So. Out of clinic early with nothing to do.

I would go home, but I have a meeting at noon. I would skip the meeting, but there is free lunch.

You don't skip free lunch meetings.

I checked all of my e-mail accounts. I checked all the blogs that I follow. I read my daily comic strip and my daily horoscope. I even read the news. I'm out of things to do!

Granted, I could study. But now there are only fifteen minutes left, and what can I learn in 15 minutes? Not to even mention the fact that I am a fourth year. Fourth years do not study. At least not on their penultimate rotation.

Hey, did I mention that this is my penultimate rotation? Penultimate, penultimate, penultimate! People ought to use that word more often. I think it is neat, because it sounds like it should mean last, but it doesn't. Ultimate is last. Penultimate is second to last. It could be used to give some street cred to slow kids in races - you're either first, second, third, somewhere in the middle, penultimate or ultimate! Dude, why you messin' with me? I was totally penultimate in that race. Get off my back!

We see a lot of 'late bloomers' in endo clinic. Boys, normally, that are just not quite on the average growth curve. Poor guys. It's hard to say to them that they'll catch up eventually (puberty-wise - most of them will still be short guys). How can a 12 year old boy care that maybe by the time he's 17, he'll look like the other guys. That's an eternity. Yet again, I am glad I am a girl.

I'm starving. This had better be a good free lunch.

Happy Valentine's Day!

My Valentine's gift this year was hearing Ryan Seacrest say my name over and over again. Of course, he wasn't talking to me. Or even about me. One of the American Idol contestants is named Brenna. It was surreal hearing my name on TV. I was like... did he just... no... could he... no... I had to actually see the name written out before I could actually understand what he was saying. I'm just so used to hearing my name wrong.

Beyond the coolness of my name's debut on AI, ugggg. I don't like Brenna. She slapped her butt during her song. The song didn't call for butt slapping. Butt Slapping Brenna won't make it far.

So, this Valentine's Day found me in Peds Endo clinic. Not because I've developed a strange adult-onset pediatric endocrinological disease, but because that's the rotation I'm on. Did you all feel the cosmic shift yesterday? That was me being back where I belong. Despite my occasional complaints, I really, really do enjoy being around sick people... Wait. I mean, I enjoy being in the hospital, and being in clinic, and just... everything! It is nice to realize that again every once in a while. I was just smiling at everyone yesterday - AND I'm PMS-y. That's saying an awful lot.

Today, being Valentine's Day (did I mention that?), it is the day where I release this year's edition of the Valentine's Day CD. One problem... I'm still working on it! It is near completion, though. As always, if you want a copy, e-mail me and I'll send it. Not necessarily any time soon, but... some day...

Happy Valentine's Day! I love you all!!

::Scene::

For some reason, lately (possibly due to lack of actual thought) my mind keeps coming up with random conversations - they play out like scenes in my head. Maybe I'm subconsciously writing a screen play. Take them apples, Matt Damon.

Scene 1 (for Susan)
Person One: Pompous, know-it-all, 'philosophical' debater dude
Person Two: Susan in ten kajillion years (peds oncologist)

One: Your argument lacks structure, and is altogether too emotional. Didn't you ever bother to study debate in your expensive education?

Two: No, I didn't.

One: I don't think one can call oneself educated without a basic comprehension of the fundamentals of debate. How can you engage in meaningful conversation? How can you advance in your career? How could you do that to yourself?

Two: Well, I guess it is because cancer cells don't debate.

Scene 2 (inspired by an add for the next Apprentice)
Person One: Apprentice contestant
Person Three: Someone else

One: My IQ is among the highest two percent in the world.

Three: Wow. Hey. Aren't there like... two billion people living in China right now? That means that there are like... forty million people in China that are just as smart as you.

One: Well, if you go by the numbers, that would seem true. But it would also be true that there were 1.96 billion people dumber than me.

Three: That's a lot of people. [beat] Guess you wouldn't want to say something to make them mad.

I didn't say they were good scenes, people. But how fun would it be to have some sort of smarmy comment at the ready when faced with a situation with an arrogant jerk?

Ahh, but all this planning ahead makes me think of another scene, penned by an author much superior to myself (see if you can name it - it isn't terribly hard, for those who are close to me):

Scene 3.
Person One: Pompous, self-righteous, delusional man
Person Two: Pompous, judgmental, but kind-hearted and amusing man

One: I am happy on every occasion to offer those little delicate compliments which are always acceptable to ladies [...]

Two: ...[I]t is happy for you that you possess the talent of flattering with delicacy. May I ask whether these pleasing attentions proceed from the impulse of the moment, or are the result of previous study?

One: They arise chiefly from what is passing at the time, and though I sometimes amuse myself with suggesting and arranging such little elegant compliments as may be adapted to ordinary occasions, I always wish to give them as unstudied an air as possible.

Yeah, so. My little scenes don't a timeless novel make. But they do entertain me!

Whiners

Some may say that three plus months vacation sounds great. 'Some' may even have been me, say, oh, four months ago. But now 'some' would totally be retracting their statement, and wishing that they had something to do that was important or meaningful. (I am on anatomy, and I did do my dissection... it took an hour...)

I'm at school right now because I'm supposed to be going to a meeting at noon. I still have three minutes to get there, but... I think I'm gonna skip it. Somehow, I got involved with this group that gets together to discuss mental health issues in medical students. But the thing is? I don't really care any more! I'm a freaking fourth year! I don't want to sit and listen to the little first and second years whine about how stressed out they are, and why isn't there free counseling available to them 24/7, because 'someone' should make it available, and if it isn't, well then, people are just going to... you know... be depressed, and then they can't function because this is medical school and it is hard, and 'someone' should be making sure that everyone has enough support to... blah, blah, blah.

News flash: Medical School ain't no cake walk. You'll get frustrated and depressed and stressed out. But listen, small puppies, real life ain't no easier. (Ignore the double negative there, and just go with the spirit of what I'm saying)

So, I don't think I'll go listen to them whine today.

I'm also feeling a tad annoyed and whiny myself. I've talked to two people in the fifteen minutes I've been here - one who is in his last three days of short-coat-hood, and one who is in her last three days of being-at-this-hospital-hood. Sigh. I have two months left of each!

If only I had a vacation coming up.

Oh, wait.

Tid Bits

* Yesterday, at Costco, I saw a man purchasing 12 cases (not bottles - cases) of Texas Pete hot sauce. First I saw the cases, then I looked up and saw the guy. He had wrist braces on each wrist. Live dangerously.

* If you are going to spill coffee all over yourself, it is really convenient to be wearing coffee colored clothing. (Not that I speak from experience...)

* My least favorite new fashion trend: Bunching up your jeans at the knees. You may not believe that is an actual fashion trend, but it is. Just look at all those people with their fuzzy boots on over the top of their boot cut jeans.

* I also don't understand wearing heels while you travel. Granted, you look a whole lot better trudging through the airport with some sassy heels on. But why - why - add three or four inches to your legs and then sit in an airplane seat for several hours?

* I like italics.

Picture Tyme!

This is one of my favorite pictures of me ever. (I hope it loads). Despite the dirtiness and frizzy hair. We were teaching each other songs, and clapping games ('Say say oh playmate...')

Oh, and maybe if y'all are lucky, I'll tell you the story of how it took three medical students, three security guards, a locksmith and a dead battery to get me into my apartment on Friday night...

Three Reasons Why Tyra Banks Rocks

1. She has self-declared, somewhat frightening "smiling eyes"

2. She is going to talk to Antonio Sabato Jr. about a "secret affair that he kept secret until now."

3. She blinks like a thousand times a minute while she speaks...

Wait. Did I say three reasons why she rocks? I meant three reasons why she's a crazed, incoherent ego-model-monster.

What Price, Beauty?

I've never been much of a 'girly-girl.' Granted, I'm no Tomboy, either. I tend to float somewhere between the two (and no, I don't mean 'girly-boy'). I like to look nice, but I also really appreciate a good mud puddle - squishing it in between your toes! - and just grunging it up every once in a while.

I also kind of grew up in an era where smelly soaps and lotions weren't smelling up shopping malls everywhere (heck, there weren't even Starbucks around until I was in high school). Smelly soaps and lotions were a luxury that I didn't start paying attention to (still don't, really) until college or so. I didn't grow up with a Fluffy Beauty Routine (FBR), and it isn't something that came terribly naturally to me.

Which may explain why I had never had a pedicure until a year or two ago.

And, I must say... I'm totally a convert. I do enjoy a good pedicure. Manicures, too. But pedicures are so much better. My toes look so indescribably cute after an hour in the pedicurists hands.

You may have guessed by this point that I had a pedicure today. :) My reward to myself for three weeks of hot-footing it around the dusty African roads.

Today, however, I added a new aspect to my FBR. I had my eyebrows waxed. It is something I've been meaning to do for a while, but hadn't gotten around to doing. I decided that it would be a good Home From Africa treat as well. I decided that when I got home, looked in the mirror, and saw that my eyebrows had gone all Africa on me. That is, wild.

For those whose FBR does not include Eyebrow Wax, it wasn't that bad. Not at all like Leg Wax, which is a modern day form of torture, and shouldn't have any place in any FBR. My eyebrows are now all tamed and sleek looking.

I'm all red and puffy around them, though. But that's okay. They match my toenails.

Time to Get a Move ON

Now that all the Big Events of 2005 (residency applications and interviews, etc.) and my trip to Africa are over, I am ready to move on. Now. I've come back to the Waiting Game.

I feel that my life is on hold until noon on March 16 - the big ol' Match Day. Just thinking about that day makes my little heart go a-pitter-patter, and I feel a tad light-headed. At the same time, I want it to be OVER, already. Just now, I went online and made my rank list - I was practically hyperventilating the whole time. And now that that is done, I want an answer! Now! Give it to me!!!

I really don't like waiting.

The decision of whether or not to widely share my rank list is weighing on my mind. On the one hand, why be secretive about stuff now, after laying out my whole life on this silly blog at other times? And, on the other hand... what if I match at like my fourth place? I don't want people to be feeling sorry for or superior to me. I'm only ranking five places, and I think I would be happy at any of them.

I have already started looking at real estate available at my top two choices. Which is kind of funny, because I have no freaking clue what I am doing, nor do I have ANY IDEA WHERE I'M GOING.

Sigh...

One of my friends has already matched. So jealous am I. AND, she matched at her top choice in a competitive field (thus the early match).

Here is a picture to calm me down: It is my favorite picture from my Africa trip. My favorite non-person picture, anyway.

Deep breaths, now. March 16 will be here before I know it.

And, what the heck. Here is my list. For now, anyway. I totally reserve the right to change it (until Febuary 22, when it becomes permanent):

1. University of California, Davis (Sacramento, CA)
2. University of Arizona (Tucson, AZ)
3. Presbyterian Hospital, Cornell Campus (New York, NY)
4. Medical University of South Carolina (Charleston, SC)
5. Wake Forest University (Winston-Salem, NC)

Keep your fingers (and maybe toes, too, just to be safe) crossed for me.

Survey Time!

It's been a while...!

Four jobs I’ve had:
* Telemarketer
* Temporary Technician at Intel (complete with bunny suit)
* Arts and Crafts Teacher at a Taekwondo Summer Academy
* Receptionist at an Infertility Clinic

Four movies I could watch over and over:
* When Harry Met Sally
* Bridget Jones' Diary
* Shawshank Redemption
* Pride and Prejudice

Four books I could read over and over:
* Harry Potter (we'll just count that as one)
* Where the Red Fern Grows
* Welcome to the Monkey House
* Catcher in the Rye

Four places I have lived:
* Beaverton, OR
* Northfield, MN
* Sitka, AK
* Winston-Salem, NC

Four TV shows I watch:
* American Idol (yeah, yeah, I know. but I still like it)
* Desperate Housewives
* Gilmore Girls (though I haven't seen it in months)
* Alias (likewise, haven't seen it in months)

Four places I have been on vacation:
* Alexandria, MN
* Victoria, BC
* Berlin, Germany
* Disneyworld!

Four websites I visit daily other than email:
* Several blogs
* www.comics.com
* The Superficial
* Google

Four favorite foods:
* Bagels and cream cheese
* Diet Pepsi (not really food, but as good as...for me, anyway)
* Chicken
* Thai/Indian/Chinese type food (we're going general here)

Four places I’d like to be right now:
* Beaver Lake, Sitka, Alaska
* Hug Point, Oregon Coast
* At a Broadway show
* Disneyworld!!

Four people I want to participate:
* Mom
* Melissa
* Ari
* George W. Bush

Tea Time!

One of the more popular activities of our trip grew to be tea time. It wasn't ever supposed to be an official thing, I think, but we got tea one afternoon in Bumbuli, and then people wanted it everyday. It really is a nice little tradition - tea in the afternoon.

Today for tea time, I'm going to post some pictures. I had some tea, too. Maybe you should go have some tea to sip while you look at the pictures!

This was the first picture I took in Africa:
It is Shanty Town Road, the road on which we stayed while we were in Moshi. It isn't a very exciting picture. Don't burn your tongue! You know... on the tea... the tea you're drinking for tea time? At least pretend to play along...

This is the Bed and Breakfast that we were staying in - the Kitolie House B&B. That is Mount Kilimanjaro in the background. It is the tallest mountain in Africa, and the only place where you'll find show. A lot of people climb it, as it isn't a very tough climb - three days up, two down. Though, for me, I'm thinking more like six days up, helicopter down.

Our first day in Moshi, my fearless companions and I set out to do some shopping. I like this picture for the painting in the background. It is a style of art popular in Eastern Africa, known as Tingatinga named after the artist from Mozambique who started the style.

After hanging in Moshi for a couple of days, we took a few hour bus ride to Bumbuli. I took a whole bunch of pictures slong the road. I'm trying to post one, but the computer is being difficult. Alrighty, that's enough of trying for that one. It wasn't a great pic anyway.


In Bumbuli, we met lots and lots of kids. They loved having their pictures taken, especially when they could see the pictures on the digital cameras. They would start swarming us saying "Picha! Picha!" and then hamming it up for the camera.

In Bumbuli, as in the two other villages we visited, we spent the first day doing "Triage." We'd visit many houses, and fill out questionnaires at each home, listing the residents and some of the living conditions. Then we'd find out if there was anyone who needed medical care. We'd take blood pressures, and leave the family with intake forms, outlining the medical problems. The patients would bring the intake forms to clinic the next day to be seen more thoroughly (presumably) by us with a supervising doctor.

We saw the patients in clinic in a building similar to the houses we'd been visiting - clay walls and dirt floors - in Bumbuli. In Rombo and Faraja, we were in larger, more open spaces (which was convenient as we had more patients in those places).

We had a pharmacy stocked with medicines relevant to the diseases we'd be seeing. (Including motorcycles...). Actually, in Rombo, we didn't have one very important medicine, which added to the chaos. This pic is from the pharmacy area in Faraja. I decided that on the last day, I just wanted to sort and count pills. It was fun.

(We did all sorts of things, and I took a gajillion pictures, but I'll skip to the safari days now, for the sake of brevity.)

At Lake Manyara, the baboons...

...and the elephants were my favorite.

At Ngorongoro Crater, it was all about the lions.

I'm sure your tea is cold now, so I'll stop there. I have a bunch-a-bunch more. And don't worry - I won't mind showing you ALL of them. Especially if there is tea involved.

Back in the USSR!

Okay, fine. Not really the USSR, but that song sounds much better than Back in the USA. Which really is not actually a song, Or, at least it wasn't until a minute ago, when I wrote this song called "Back in the USA." It wasn't a good song, though. So I'll stick with the Beatles.

Jet lag? What jet lag?

I got back last night after about 37 or so hours of traveling. I don't really know, because the time differences and layovers just really messed me up. The trip went relatively smoothely. It was a gradual leaving-behind of my fellow ISL team members, starting in Moshi, and ending in Minneapolis, when I bid farewell to my last travel companion. Strange to spend so much time and intensity with nine people that I may never see again... (I suck at staying in touch - this blog is my pathetic attempt to excuse myself from the Guilt of being a Bad E-mailer)

But, back to the important things. Where did we last leave off? Ah, yes. I was about to go on Safari.

Safari was a completely and totally different experience from the rest of the trip. First of all, there were white people everywhere. I think we'd all gotten used to being a novelty as we traveled. It was strange to again 'blend in' with the crowds. As we approaced the safari areas, people got more... jaded seeming. There seemed to be a lot more expectation that we would either buy things (at outrageous prices) or even just hand them money. The kids got really pushy about running up to the jeep, holding out their hands and asking for change. I didn't give it to them, because I couldn't stomach the thought of encouraging that kind of behavior.

We did two days of safari - on in Lake Manyara National Park, and one in the Ngorongoro Crater (the eigth wonder of the world, so they say). We saw giraffes, and baboons, and elephants, and vervet monkeys and wildebeest, and warthogs, and all sorts of birds, and hippos, and lions and a cheetah. And some other stuff that I don't remember. I made a list, but I'm too lazy to go get it. Shut up.

Our last day together, we spent shopping. We had to do one of my all time favorite things to do (in Opposite Land) - Bargain. It wasn't actually too hard to bargain, as every place we went had enough sales people that we had our own following us around going, "What price you want to pay?" There were some things that I didn't really feel like buying, but man, the moment you touch it, they really try to get you to buy it.

I ended up getting several things. Mostly for me, 'cause I'm terribly selfish. There wasn't actually much to get that was small and souvenier-y, so the things I got were Big things for me. And the obligatory Family Presents.

I like Capitalizing today.

On our last evening, we had a nice dinner out, and were all given a thank you gift. The girls got khanga - which is a wrap thing that the women wear in East Africa. The guys got T-shirts - which is a shirt made from T's... Haha. Not really. I mean, they really got T-shirts. That wasn't the funny part. Except that it was kind of funny, because... T-shirts vs. Khanga? Khanga totally win.

And then people left, and more people left, and then I left.

I'm completely exhausted right now, so I'm not writing any more. Shut up, again.

I'll post pictures tomorrow!

A Morman, A Model and A Medical Student...

We are in the tail end of our trip now, quite unbelivably. Week One just flew by (as on wings of an eagle... ::snort::) and Week Two... well, it didn't fly by. It was more like trudging through deep mud (or flying dust) with a heavy pack on, growing blisters on your pinky toes, and developing a strong dislike towards rice, and just when you were about to grab a sunflower and stangle yourself with it... it was Week Three.

Our second village, Rombo, was... less than ideal. The trip got off to a rocky start (literally) as we crammed into a small van - called Rasta Baby - and took a bumpy, dusty, bumpy ride for a few hours to a Lutheran Hostel. The Hostel itself was innocuous enough, but it was apparently built adjacent to the LOUDEST spot in Tanzania. Dogs and blaring music and trucks and roosters and loud men and buzzing mosquitoes. All conspired to make Rombo a very difficult place to get a good night's sleep.

We did two triage days in Rombo, on the assumption that there would not be many people who would actually want help from a clinic. The triage days weren't horrible, other than the dirt and dust. I've never, ever, ever been so dirty in my life. And the shower was... well. More like a drippy spout than an actual shower.

The neatest thing about Rombo were all the cornfields and sunflowers. They're all growing together in total harmony. Everywhere. I love sunflowers. I tried to focus on that, instead of my hot and sweatiness.

Clinic Day in Rombo was... well, a day to remember. That day will go down in history for me as an example to compare things to. A bar that cannot be topped. As in, "Oh, goodness, look at all the patients waiting! Well, at least it isn't Rombo." I won't go into too much detail, except to say that we had 1 doctor, 1 optometrist, 2 med students, 9 pre-meds and 7 translators for 706 patients. Seven hundred and six. Oh, and I didn't get a translator that day. I and another team member did all of our patient histories in Swahili. Yeah. Swa. Hi. Li.

We left Rombo with no love lost. Our next stop was into Ma'asai land - a village called Faraja. We were housed at a beautiful place - the Lutheran Diaconic Center. Still don't really know what that means... something to do with deacons. And possibly disabled children... They like to give a lot of speeches at the Diaconic Center. They kept making me try to talk (because I'm the 'leader'), but I kept making someone else do it. Hee hee. Me no likey speeches.

Ma'asai Land was pretty cool. The Ma'asai people are very distinctive - tall warriors who have been very adamant about maintaining their traditions. They wear bright purples and reds and are very tall and carry spears or sticks. And they have the big holes in their ears. Nifty.

Today was our last clinic day. We saw 266 patients, so it wasn't bad at all. No Rombo, anyway.

I feel good about the work we've done here, but also frustrated. So much of it is so temporal - we can treat people for parasites, but if they take their medicine with contaminated water (which most of them will), what good is it really doing? I have to believe that we're helping to build a basis of trust in the medical profession and a desire for access to care that will carry on into future generations. That makes it seem better.

We're all done with the medical portion of the trip now. Before coming here, I thought that only 9 days of medical stuff would seem wimpy. I've completely changed my mind. We are all so very much ready for some vacation. Our Safari starts tomorrow! We get two days of safari - first at Lake Manyara National Park and second at Ngorongoro Crater. Then, we get a shopping day! Then, a day to relax and pack, and after that, it is time to go home.

We have a good group here. We've managed to grow close, as only a group that has intimate knowledge of each others bowel movements can. I definitely feel my age - besides Rebecca, the next oldest person is more than two years younger. It is fun to impart my (vast, unfathomable) wisdom. Of course, I think they stopped listening a week or two ago...

Oh - yesterday, my group consisted of me, the Morman in our group, and the model. I felt like we were a walking joke. Can't think of the punchline, though.

I hope everyone is staying safe back home. I probably won't blog again until I'm in Portland. I might though. Gotta keep the suspense up...

Week One

I started trying to post last night, but right in the middle of a (really witty and interesting) sentence, the power went out. Lost to the world forever. Let's have a moment of mourning...

Alright then! Actually, I have a little more time to ramble this morning, so see how you all get to benefit?!

In brief: I am well, I had one day of yucky-feeling-ness (there are a few people who are looking fairly green around the gills the past couple of days) and "Medical Mission in Africa" is a great diet.

We have made one trip to a small village in the mountains of Tanzania, called Bumbuli. There are honestly no words that can describe the experience in any way that could do it justice.

Bumbuli, a small village in its own right, is made up of five smaller villages. We focused on one of those smaller villages, called Mbokoi. Our first day, we travelled from home to home, collecting information on who lived in the household and finding out if there was anybody who was sick and wanted to go to clinic. We were in groups of three, plus one translator. Our first day, my group made it to 17 homes. It took a long time, because the places were pretty spread out, with all these hills and valleys in the way. We also had contingents of children following us around the whole time, which would sometimes slow us down.

"Mzungu" means 'white person,' and the kids always run up to us yelling it. They always seem really happy to see us, but when you try to talk to them, they get really shy and hide behind each other. I know enough Swahili now to say 'hi' (jambo!) and 'how are you' (haberi gani) and 'great!' (mzuri). Some others in my group have gotten really good. I do also know a couple of songs in Swahili, which always amuses the kids. If you're nice to me when I'm back in the states, you might even be able to get a command performance of me singing 'Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes' in Swahili.

Our second day in Mbokoi was a clinic day. As Rebecca and I are the only people with much actual clinical experience, we were looked at as the unofficial experts. I was really a tad stressed about that at first, but after a few patients, it became pretty obvious that there were a set number of complaints - ascariasis, hookworm, amoebiasis, malaria, musculoskeletal strain... oh, and toothaches. LOTS of toothaches.

By the way, when I say 'clinic,' I mean a tiny, three-room, clay-walled, dirt-floored building with one window in each room to provide light.

I have never been so constantly dirty in my life as I was these past few days. Thank goodness for Purell.

Our last two days in Mbokoi were a repeat of the first day - one day of triage, one day of clinic.

We drove back to our home base in Moshi yesterday, and later today, we are leaving for our second village, Rombo. We are told that the people of Rombo are a little more reticent and less likely to actually come in for care. The village is also on flat ground, not mountains. It will be totally different. Later this week, we will be doing the same thing in "Maasai Land." The Maasai are nomadic people, so they don't really have an established village, just an area. They think that all the cows in the whole world belong to them.

I'm claiming the sugar. All the sugar in the whole world belongs to me! Hahaha!

One last thing, as I've been an internet hog for a tad too long now (and, despite my cunning and devious planning, I am not the only person in the world). For some reason, I was declared the 'leader' of this rag-tag bunch. Again, the curse of seeming competent... Anyway, there are now several in the group who refer to me as 'Mama.' It makes me laugh every time.

I don't think I'll be able to post again until early next week. But keep checking, just in case!

Jambo!

I'm here! And I'm online! Huzzah!

My travels yesterday - well, actually the day before that, too - went just fine. Portland to Detroit to Amsterdam to Kilimanjaro. Then we took a van to Moshi where we are staying at a nice bed and breakfast. There is electricity and running water (though not very hot) and, most importantly, there was coffee at breakfast.

It was so unbelievably dark flying into Kilimanjaro. As we were descending in the plane, I could not see ANY lights. All of a sudden, we hit the ground. It was one of the more shocking experiences of my life. Apparently, there was a big ol' gust of wind as we were landing that blew us off course, so we landed right next to the runway. Yeah. Adventurous!

The town of Moshi is hot and bustling. Apparently everyone is home for the holiday season. There are so many things to look at. My eyes are full, but my camera is not yet! There are some very pushy gentlemen trying to sell us things on the street. Children, too. It is hard, because the stuff they have is actually quite beautiful, but I'm not buying anything until I have seen more. One girl in our group had this one guy selling batiks follow her for almost an hour. Crazy.

There will be 11 people total in our group, but only 6 of us are here so far. My classmate, Rebecca, and I are the oldest - everyone else is pre-med. Haha! It's like we are wise sages or something. Not really, but...

We are celebrating the new year with a dinner tonight. I hope everyone else is planning on having some fun, too. Drink a glass of champagne for me, everyone (except Ari).

I don't think I'll always have internet access, but keep checking! I'll post when I can. And when I get home... pictures!!

Swahili lesson:
Jambo = hello
Asante = thank you
Asante san = thank you very much
Hapano = No thank you

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!

The Big Trip

I was really planning on doing a lot more posting before my trip, but that obviously didn't happen. You know how things manage to pile up and before you know it, you find yourself up until the middle of the night just tying together those little details? Well, I don't think I'll be up all night. I'm actually pretty well packed now. But I'm sure I'm forgetting something. I was on a roll this afternoon until the power went out. (Thank goodness it was only out for an hour!)

So, as promised, here is my itinerary (it is a bit messy, but I'm too tired to try to fix it much):

FRIDAY 30th December, 2005
Students Arrivals JRO / DAR
B/B MOSHI
LION HOTEL/DAR

SATURDAY 31st December , 2005
Hiking day for JRO arrivals. Travel day to Moshi for Dar arrivals. New years Dinner at Sal Salnero Hotel /Optional..
B/B Moshi

SUNDAY 1st January, 2006
Worship/rest/get organized; Program orientation at B/B House
B/B House

MONDAY 2nd January, 2006
Travel day to Bumbuli. Stop over at Soni Falls
BUMBULI G/HOUSE

TUESDAY 3rd January, 2006
Village Triage day One
BUMBULI G/HOUSE

WEDNESDAY 4th January, 2006
Village Clinic
BUMBULI G/HOUSE

THURSDAY 5th January, 2006
Village Triage Day Two
BUMBULI G/HOUSE

FRIDAY 6th January, 2006
Half Day Village Clinic, Late afternoon Travel to IRENTE
IRENTE CLIFF LODGE

SATURDAY 7th January, 2006
Travel to Moshi
B/B HOUSE SHANTY TOWN MOSHI

SUNDAY 9th January, 2006
Worship / travel Day to Rombo/Stop over at Marangu Waterfalls.
ROMBO LUTHERAN HOSTEL

MONDAY 9th January, 2006
Village Triage Full day
UHURU HOSTEL ROMBO

TUESDAY 10th January, 2006
Village triage Full Day
UHURU HOSTEL ROMBO

WEDNESDAY 11th January, 2006
Clinic Day at Church Dispensary
UHURU HOSTEL ROMBO

THURSDAY 12th January, 2006
Travel Day to Moshi
Evening to Faraja
FARAJA DIACONIC CENTRE

FRIDAY 13th January, 2006
Maasai Vilage
Triage full day
FARAJA DIACONIC CENTRE

SATURDAY 14th January, 2006
Masai Clinic at the Local Lutheran Church.
Full day/ Return To Moshi
B/B House Shanty Town Moshi

SUNDAY 15th January, 2006
Safari Day one Lake Manyara National Park, Game Drive. at Lake Manyara N/Park
TWIGA LODGE

MONDAY 16th January, 2006
Safari Day Two (Travel to Ngorongoro Crater for Crater Tour
KARATU LUTHERAN HOSTEL

TUESDAY 17th January, 2006
Safari Day Three Return back to Moshi- Masai shopping Centers On the way.
B/B HOUSE SHANTY TOWN MOSHI

WEDNESDAY 18th January, 2006
Travel Day to Dar es Salaam
LION HOTEL/OPTIONAL

19th January, 2006
Flights To U.S.A. BRITISH AIRWAY/KLM.

I don't really know much about any of the places on the itinerary. I can't wait to learn all about them!

Everyone keeps asking me if I am excited. Am I? Of course I am, sillies! At this point, I'm still worried that I'm forgetting something major. But in, oh about twelve or so hours, I'll be horribly excited - that's when my flight leave. (Of course, the first flight is to Detroit, so maybe I should wait until my second flight, for Amsterdam, leaves...)

FYI Tanzania is 11 hours ahead of Oregon, 8 hours ahead of North Carolina.

And now, I'll sign off. I don't expect that I'll have the opportunity to get online while I'm there, but if I do, I will surely update here. Take care everyone, and stay safe until I get home. Stay safe after that, too, of course... All the time, really....

Not Dead... Just....

...Boring.

Seriously. I've gotten to the point of vacation where I need a vacation from my vacation. And on that vacation vacation, I'd have lots of responsibilities and duties and I'd have to do lots of thinking and get stressed out. In other words: I'm ready for vacation to be over. I need a meaning in life!

For those of you counting: that's about 6 weeks of sitting around doing absolutely nothing before it gets mind-numbingly boring. I'm actually surprised that I lasted that long! If you factor in a month of traveling for interviews, I guess I didn't really sit around doing nothing for six full weeks. In fact, it has only been two weeks since my last interview. So. Two weeks of absolutely no responsibility is enough for me.

BUT! Now. NOW things begin. Oh, yes. Tomorrow morning, my mother and my youngest sister and I are going to be in the studio audience of a local morning talk show. We're hoping that they give free stuff to the audience. And then Friday... well, I might bake or something. Then Saturday is all Christmas Eve and stuff. And Sunday is Christmas! And Monday is day-after-Christmas shopping (though I'm actually almost _bored_ of shopping). And Tuesday and Wednesday are prep days for Thursday when I LEAVE FOR AFRICA.

I recently got my itinerary - I shall post it here before I go, so you all can be jeal... I mean, so you can see what I'm up to.

Last week I got a manicure, and ended up with Barbie Doll pink nail polish on (it was called "First Class"). I didn't remove it until today. That's how bored/boring I've been.

But no more!

I have a travel pack, and a day pack, and a compression sack, patty whack, give the dog a bone!!

If anyone has any advice as far as what I should pack for three weeks in Tanzania, I would be oh-so-happy for the tips.

Here is a tip from Brenna:
Scan your passport into a file and e-mail it to yourself as well as carrying along extra copies of it on your person.

Iron Chef Brenna?

For the past month or so, we have had several pomegranates sitting on our counter. Have you ever had a pomegranate? They're really quite good. They're also freaking hard to eat, which I think is part of the reason (if not the main reason) that they've been sitting peacefully on the kitchen counter.

I enjoy eating pomegranates by themselves, but I kept seeing cook-y type people on TV morning shows (did I mention that I'm on vacation...? With very little to do?) talk about how good pomegranates were to cook with.

Well, me being me, and not willing to let sitting pomegranates lie, I decided that I needed to cook something... pomegranate-y.

(The word pomegranate sounds funny after you say it five or so times in a row. Pomegranate, pomegranate, pomegranate...)

I told my mom that I would cook dinner today so that she could have one day off from feeding us hungry masses, and I did some internet searches for 'pomegranate recipe.' I looked for a long time. Not being what one would call a 'cook' normally, I don't really know what constitutes a 'good' recipe. A recipe could include 'arsenic' and I'd be, like, 'I wonder what aisle the arsenic is in at the grocery store?'

Finally I settled on "Roasted Pomegranate Chicken," which looked relatively easy-ish. Then I had a whole huge debate - mostly in my head, with the occasional verbal exclamation - about what sides to have with Roasted Pomegranate Chicken. Potatoes? Cous cous? Corn?

Somehow, I setted on salad, wild rice, and (another recipe!) "Green Beans Amandine."

I was... less than confident in my actual ability to cook, so I gave myself lots of time to get things organized. Then I was all mincing garlic, and juicing pomegranates and lemons (hard, hard, hard) and... boiling water and stuff.

And, in the end, after about two hours of work... it was all edible! Good, even! I think the recipes I picked were pretty fool-proof, so that was good. I am pleased to know that I can cook. And that I don't hate it! I wouldn't say that I love it (no Iron Chef Brenna), but there is a certain sense of accomplishment in preparing a whole menu.

I would rather stick to knitting and crocheting, though, in terms of the domestic arts. They're more portable!

Brenna's Menu:
Mixed Green Salad with dried cranberries, sliced almonds and Raspberry Vinaigrette
Roasted Pomegranate Chicken
Wild Rice
Green Beans Amandine

(I didn't do dessert - that was beyond my mad organizational cooking skillz.)

Ding-Dang

Done!

No, not with Christmas shopping (thanks for reminding me of that... geez!) NO! I am done - D. O. N. E. - with the freaking residency interviews. I had my seventh, and last, interview on Tuesday. I feel like I should maybe interview at more. But then I also feel that seven is a nice, biblical number so I should just leave it at that. So I'm gonna.

Highlights of the whole process:

- Getting nine of my ten interview offers before the dean's letter went out
- Seeing Dirty Rotten Scoundrels on Broadway the night before one interview because they didn't have the obligatory evening before (though I guess not obligatory, since they didn't have it) 'meet and greet' with the residents
- Feeling like an honorary "Man in Black" as I toured many facilities with like-dressed applicants. All with our clicky shoes
- Having a hard time suppressing my laughter every time our footsteps became synchronized during those tours (we'd go Clickety-clicket-click-Click-CLICK-CLICK)
- Finding three "I'd love to go there" programs, three "I think that would be sorta fun" to go there programs and one "I only really need to rank six programs, right?" program.
- Getting up at 4:45 am, driving two hours, dropping off rental car, catching shuttle to airport, waiting at gate, boarding plane, hearing 'this plane is broken,' de-boarding plane, waiting two hours for new plane, boarding new plane, watching two grown men almost come to fisticuffs while stowing luggage ('you think you can take me, fatso!?'), flying, riding train 1 hour home, leaving again sixty-two hours later
- Fresno newspaper headline: "Fresno Cow Count Rising"
- Chatty Sacramento shuttle driver who got lost and found the street with the MOST SPEED-BUMPS EVER CREATED
- And, finally, coming home to a Christmas-filled house, knowing that I have a full three plus weeks to recover.

And, by the by... I have an announcement (no, I'm not pregnant. Or engaged.):
I'm a-goin' to Africa!

Seriously! Real-life Africa - not Animal Kingdom or the zoo
or a really realistic non-fiction/fiction book that takes me there in my imagination. Actual Africa with the actual Lions and Witches and... no, wait. With actual Lions and Tigers and... no, that's not it either. Well, there will be lions anyway. And other animals. Deadly animals. And deadly mosquitoes (for which I've been armed with gajillions of shots and pills).

I'm going with a group called The Center for International Service Learning. I'm so terribly excited! I am going with a classmate - though we won't actually see each other again until we meet up in Amsterdam! We'll be doing some sort of rural triage clinic. What that entails, I'm not quite certain. I leave in three weeks!! Which means that I will be in Africa for New Year's. How awesome is that? For the rest of my life, I will not have to worry about making New Year's a big occasion, because no matter what I end up doing, nothing will beat being in Africa when the year changes.

Unless, maybe some year I'm on the moon...

Arizona...

Does anything rhyme with Arizona? Or any state, really, for that matter. Though, now that I think about it, Oregon is a homonym. Few Pork. Pain. Schebraska.

Alrighty, then. Arizona as a state is not inspiring me to great heights of creative genius. Though it is good on the hair.

Interview number four is tomorrow, followed by number five on Wednesday! Already, the programs are starting to blend into one giant massive program. With a huge commute.

For the sake of brevity, and sparing you the boredom of reading any more drivel...

Black Friday

What better way to follow up a day of total gustatory over-indulgence than with a day of total consumerism?

My lovely sisters joined me at the mall this morning at 5:00. That's am. Morning. Ante merdiem. All three of us made it there, too. Aren't we cool?

Well. Maybe not so much. Part of me feels a little guilty for buying into the whole frenzy of "Black Friday." But that part of me is also a little lazy, so I left it behind in bed this morning.

Seriously, though - is there anything quite like the feeling of getting a really good deal? I saved over $100 with my first purchase today! Of course, as my dad pointed out, he saved even more money since he didn't buy anything. (I'd like to direct you all to a few posts ago when I mentioned all the rocks we have here... And the shop... Yeah. 'Nuf said.)

I wasn't sure how I'd feel about the Crack 'O Dawn shopping experience. In the end, though - more specifically around 9 am when we were leaving the mall parking lot - early is the way to go on Black Friday.

Except... not at Wal-Mart. People apparently go loopy at Wal-Mart. Well. More loopy. There was no 'rush' at JC Penney.

Now I have to go look at my purchases. And sleep. If that pesky guilty-feeling part of me lets me - it's better rested.

Happy Thanksgiving!!!

I'm not positive, but I think this is a fairly accurate re-creation of the first Thanksgiving.

Now, go eat turkey!!!

Welcome to My Casa

I promised pictures, so here you are: a photographic tour of the new Casa de Mi Familia.


Here is the road that leads to our new home. Actually, this is taken from an angle that would lead away from our home, seeing as I took it from our driveway. So... Just imagine the same thing in reverse. I was too lazy to walk to the end.


And here is one of the first things you'll see as you approach our house. Past the trailer thing is one leg of the driveway. I'm standing in the other leg. (Do you call them legs when the driveway is shaped like a U?) The building there is some mysterious building. I think they used to build trophies there. Seriously. Now it is filled with my dad's stuff. And the hot water heater.


Now, how do you know for sure that you reached the correct house? You'll know because there will be rocks. Lots and lots of rocks.


And sometimes a flower or two. But always rocks.


Here is the pride of the whole farm. The SHOP. I keep accidentally calling it the 'shed.' My dad quickly corrects me. It is a SHOP...


...filled with things like LARGE amounts of GRANITE...


...and TRACTORS... (Doesn't this tractor look a little evil here? Like it is in a Disney short or Thomas the Tank Engine episode and it is going to go do something evil that the cute little house or train protagonist will have to overcome or defeat or something. And then little kids will have nightmares about the scary red-eyed scary machine. Evil tractor.)...


I think this is my dad's unofficial throne of the SHED. Oops. Shop. I meant SHOP, there. Not Shed. SHOPPE.


Here is another view from the driveway. It isn't really that the driveway is huge (though it kind of is) it is just that the grass is kind of new, and I don't want to kill the fledgling...grasslets by stomping all over them. Plus, it is kind of muddy.


And, finally, here is the front door. Won't you all come in?

Actually, let me check with my mom first...

Call Me Mrs. Darcy

...because I am INCANDESCENTLY happy.

I got to see Dirty Rotten Scoundrels last night. (btw Norbert Leo Butz is a genious)

I had a great interview today.

I just got another interview invitation.

At UC Davis.

AND!!!

I'm in New York City on a Friday night.

Gotta love it.

Glutton for Punishment?

I've always liked to count things by fives. Five, ten, fifteen, etc. It is just a nice, complete number. And whenever I make tally marks, I hate ending on a straight up-and-down line, preferring instead to close the group of lines with a fifth, angled slash across them.

Yes, five is a good number.

Except when it is the number of times you've been rejected from someplace. And by 'somplace' I mean OHSU. That is Oregon Health & Science University, for those of you not familiar with it. And here is a chronological list of the times they've rejected me:

Spring 2000: Rejected from joining the med school Class of 2004
December 2001: Rejected from joining the Class of 2005
Spring 2002: Rejected from joining the Class of 2006
Spring 2005: Rejected from doing a fourth year rotation at OHSU
and, finally, November 16, 2005: Rejected from their pediatrics residency program

Finito.

Thankfully, with the magic number 5, I've reached the end of things that OHSU can reject me from! Woo-hoo!

But, let's take a moment to feel horrifically sorry for me as my dreams are shattered, yet again...

[moment]

Okay, now that's over.

Interestingly, in the last week, I have been systematically rejected from three of the top ten most overpriced cities in the US. I should be thanking them for saving me the trouble. Of course, I'm flying to another of those top ten cities tomorrow. And... I'm still waiting to hear from another of the ten.

Did I mention that I applied to schools in 6 of the top 10 most overpriced cities? Hmm. Maybe those schools knew something when they rejected me - I'm kind of stupid to do that, after all.

So, no Portland for me. It's funny how OHSU consistently makes me lose sight of one of my own personal, over-arching philosophies of life: that Everything Turns Out All Right in the End.

I maintain faith that I will end up at a place that is good for me. (And hopefully a place where I'll actually meet some interesting and single men!) Obviously, that place is not Portland.

I'm five-times convinced of that!

Scam!

In this era of internet and e-mail scams, I'm ever vigilant for things that look too good to be true, or things that just don't look right. I think I'm relatively good at staying away from people or products that are going to waste my time or money.

Online, anyway.



I just got this postcard thingy in the mail. It looks official - like a card that you send with registered mail. And it was forwarded to me here at my parents house from my apartment. I was half-way convinced that I should call the number - I won an auction on eBay a while ago, and thought it might have something to do with that.

Being the savvy person that I am, though, I went online (I heart the internet) and found this info. It was exactly the same thing I received!

Anyway. I feel pretty stupid for almost getting schnookered. Beware, everyone! They still use snail mail for scams!!! And even *gasp* the telephone!!!

Shocking, I know.

Here's To Healthy Chompers!

My dreaded dentist appointment was this morning. And as it turns out, my teeth are just fine!

In other news, I'm apparently a wimp now, and can't handle a little pain.

Actually, my sore tooth (the one that I thought I'd need a root canal in) was feeling better today. I almost didn't go to the dentist, but I didn't want to risk my periodontal health.

To celebrate healthy teeth everywhere, I got some little gifts for the welfare of our family pets' teeth:


Murphy and Lexi enjoy chewing on bones to keep their teeth healthy. But actually, what they enjoy even more than that, is trying to get whatever the other one has.


I don't know what cats use to keep their teeth healthy, so I just got Slater a catnip tennis ball. I think I only succeeded in scaring the poor cat. Oh, well. I don't think tennis balls are great for teeth anyway.

I Live!

So, it seems that every time I come home to Oregon, I tend to go into temporary hiding. I don't know what exactly I am hiding from, but Oregon seems to be a good place to do it. Seeing as I'm going to be here through Christmas, I figured I should force myself out of my seclusion, otherwise people may think I've disappeared for good. Not true!

How about some brief updates? Sounds good to me!

Well, I've had two interviews now. Also, I've had two rejections. Fortunately, the rejections don't match up to the interviews! That is one nice thing about the match process - we don't necessarily get outright rejected. Except for Seattle. Darn Seattle. And San Diego. Which is funny, but I'm not going to bother going there, except to say that I've learned enough since I applied to San Diego to know that I wouldn't have interviewed there even if they'd invited me!

My first interview was at my home school. Good program, great people, horrible city. I just don't think I can stay there. Being away is so good for my soul. My second interview was at Medical University of South Carolina in Charleston. I applied mostly just because I like Charleston. And I interviewed mostly because I was going to be there with my sister anyway. Several residents I'd talked to in the days before my first interviews had said they didn't like MUSC's hospital at all. Needless to say, I wasn't feeling terribly enthusiastic about the program before I interviewed there. But I really liked it! I can already tell that making a rank list is going to be very, very hard for me.

My next interview will be this coming Friday in New York City. Yes, I have this month off for interviews, and yes I came home to be closer to my "West Coast interviews" and yes, I am turning around to fly to NY a mere week after I came home. Deal with it.

By the way, "West Coast interviews" is in quotes because they are pretty much non-existent at this point.

I did send a "Please pick me!" begging e-mail to OHSU though. We'll see if it has any effect.

Did I mention that I came home a week earlier than my mom expected to surprise her for her birthday? 'Twas much fun. She was totally astounded. Definitely astounded.

In the interim from the last time I was home, my parents moved from our old house to the new farm! How exciting. I'll tell you all about it later. I may even post pictures.

I am going to go to bed now. Because I have to get up early. To go to the dentist. Because I might need a root canal. Yes, you heard me: Root. Canal. I hate teeth.

Oh, and PS. Pride and Prejudice is worth seeing, but after the scene where Lizzie convinces her dad that she really does like Darcy, do yourself a favor and close your eyes, plug your ears and go "la-la-la" for the next few minutes. Or just go see the movie in England or Australia where they are kind enough to save you the trouble of enduring the last scene, which RUINS the ENTIRE movie. If you're smart enough to do that, and you happen to be in my neck of the woods, my sisters and I will re-create the scene for you. I know CPR.

Meine Schwester

is 24 years old today!

Happy Birthday Melissa!!!!!!!

Faux Pas

Alright. I would be the last person to claim to be a fashion guru, and my 'work' clothes are not always the most impeccable and/or wrinkle free. But. I do have a sense of what is right and what is wrong, especially when I am at the bottom of the totem pole and can't pull of the 'eccentric attending' look and wear Hawaiian shirts or raggedy looking pants.

There is this third year student that I think could learn a few things from me. My first lesson would be short - one word even: smile. I've never seen this girl not scowl.

Beyond the smile paucity, though, there is the matter of her wardrobe. Last Friday, I noticed that she was wearing black jeans. The cut of the jeans was fine - not tapered, and they were long enough. But, did I mention that they were JEANS? I cut her some slack that day - hey, people do wear dark jeans as a dressed up evening look, and it was Friday, after all - maybe she was just confused and thought that third years qualified for 'casual day.'

Then on Monday, she was wearing what I can only describe as track pants. They were black and had a dark green running stripe down the side. The material was kind of flocked, so it wasn't shiny or anything. But there was elastic around the ankles.

I justified THAT by noting that she was on call, and the pants actually looked more dressy than scrub pants. From a distance anyway.

But then, today? She was wearing blue jeans. BLUE jeans. With the cuffs folded up a good three inches. Blue jeans with folded up cuffs and her white coat. Good grief.

I'd take this poor young misguided thing aside to tell her that her clothes are inappropriate, but her scowliness scares me.

In less than a year, I will be grading medical students. Rest assured - if you wear jeans around me, your grade will suffer.

End of Day Report

Number of interviews received today: 1
Number of interviews total: 8
Number of schools yet to hear from: 11

Total word count for Nano 2005: 757
Words left for Nano: 49,243

So... Not a terrible day, really. Boo-yaw.

Distressing

AhhhghhhGHHHGHhhhh!

My e-mail box has yet to deliver any new interviews today. Grr.

Today was the busiest day ever on Peds ID. And my 'busiest' I mean that I got no free time - only an hour for lunch. And by 'not getting any free time' I mean that I had to sit around listening to everyone and their neighbor talking about all these patients that WEREN'T ON MY SERVICE. And by 'sit around' I mean that I had to STAND for HOURS in a freaking work-room filled with six over-worked interns, several disgruntled upper levels and TWENTY THOUSAND THIRD YEARS. Seriously. They're everywhere. I swear they're multiplying. Like rabbits. Like sitting-in-a-chair-that-should-rightfully-be-mine-because-I-am-a-fourth-year-and-I-stood-all-thru-MY-third-year rabbits.

AND - horror of horrors - I saw a woman today - MY age, mind you - who had her jeans PEGGED. PEGGED JEANS. On a twenty-something year old.

I think my head is going to explode.

And I still have to start Nano!!!!

Atwitter!

Happy Halloween!

I don't have a costume, and you can just shut up about that. I am wearing bat earrings, though. And if you're not careful, they might fly off my ears and into your face. Ha!

Tomorrow, besides being the day after Halloweed, is also November 1. Two very big and important things are happening (and I am all atwitter):

1. Dean's Letters go out to residency programs. Actually, they are no longer known as 'dean's letters,' but rather "Medical Student Performance Evaluation." Whatever. It is a letter. The dean wrote it. 'Nuf said. ANYway, many residency programs (claim to) wait until the MSPE goes out to offer interviews. Most programs claim to wait, while actually giving interviews to the more 'desirable' candidates, but whatever. TOMORROW IS THE DAY. I expect an e-mail box FULL of interviews tomorrow by 7am. Never mind that it is only west coast schools that I have to hear from and my seven is their four. I don't care. I WANT A BOX FULL.

2. National Novel Writing Month begins!!! I have two plot ideas floating around in my head. Tomorrow I'll have to pin one down and wrestle 50,000+ words out of it. One plot would involve a 16-ish year old girl in high school, the other a 12-ish year old boy on an adventure. Any suggestions?

Wish me (and my compatriates) luck!

Wikipedia Friday

Last Friday, I decided to institute "Wikipedia Friday"* on my blog. Here is installment numero two.

*"Wikipedia Friday": where I go on to Wikipedia (the free encyclopedia!) click the "Random Article" link, and then comment on the resulting topic here on my blog.

Today's topic: "Dorotea Municipality."

What I learned: Well, I can honestly say that my knowledge of Dorotea Municipality was pretty much non-existent before this afternoon. Turns out that it is a municipality in Sweden. And one of the least populated municipalities in Sweden to boot! About half the population of Dorotea Municipality live in the town of... you guessed it... Dorotea. It was named after Queen Frederica Dorotea Wilhelmina of Sweden. (inspiring me to question why Dorotea and not Frederica?)

Personal anecdote involving "Dorotea Municipality": This one time, I don't remember when, I went to the official website of the Dorotea Municipality, but I couldn't understand anything that was written there. Because it was all in Swedish. Actually, you know what? That was today.

Thoughts on Wikipedia's "Dorotea Municipality" article: While it is nice to see one of the least populated municipalities of Sweden represented in Wikipedia, I am a little distraught at the lack of depth of information. Most of the article is devoted to talking about a church that was built, burned down, and then built again. I feel the people of Dorotea deserve a more fleshed out description of their home.

Notes From Peds ID

I don't think I ever posted anything about the new rotation I'm on. See how low key fourth year is? I cannot believe how the stress level relating to school plummeted! I think I don't notice it so much, because the stress level for residency applications is all-consuming. Sigh.

Anyway. It crossed my mind this morning, as we rounded on our one patient, that perhaps the cruelest thing you can to do an 11 year old boy is to wake him up at 9:30, rip his sheets off and do a physical exam. The adolescent male inside me (who knew I had an adolescent male in there, too???) dies a thousand deaths for him. The adolescent girl in me (aka the source of most of my actions) kind of does an evil little laugh.

I decided to do the Peds ID rotation not as a way to torture young boys, but rather to painfully expose and hopefully treat my serious lack of infectious disease knowledge. And it is working! I love this rotation. The attendings are so fantastic, especially the one we've had on service this month. I have not only learned a lot, I have also learned that I knew more than I thought I did! Fantastic.

Actually, a secondary reason for me doing this rotation was that one of the Peds ID faculty people was one of my interviewers back in ought-two when I was applying here. I thought it would be cool to actually work with him. He comes on to service next Tuesday. AND, next Friday, incidentally, is my Residency interview here. There is some sort of synchronisity going on there with this attending and interviews. I like it.

I AM the Coolest Person You Know

Remember how I took a spinning class a while back? Ooh - in fact, here is a picture so you can remember:


Well. I did really enjoy the spinning and even toyed around with the idea of purchasing a wheel on eBay. The cost is a tad bit out of my price range for now, but it is on the list of "Things Brenna Wants to Buy Someday." It fits somewhere after 'digital piano' and somewhere before 'the collective works of Dostoevsky.'

My friend who took the class with me, however, has been swept away in a spinning fury! She has joined a spinning circle and is borrowing a wheel from a fellow teacher to keep practicing. She is actively searching for a good deal on a wheel - and she convinced me to go to the Southeast Animal Fiber Fair yesterday.

That's right: Animal Fiber Fair.

And you know what? It was the most fun I've had since... the Dixie County Classic Fair! I think the Farm-Girl blood in me is making more of an appearance in me lately - there was a reason all my ancestors settled in the Midwest.

Heather and I drove two-plus hours to Asheville, NC to attend this animal fiber fair. I didn't really know what to expect... Here are some pictures so you know what to expect in the event you find yourself at a similar event some day:


Obviously, the first thing you need are tickets to the Agricultural Center. Obviously.


Here is Heather at the entrance to the Fair. It was in a stadium-type thing. There were two tiers of vendors selling things from roving (what you use to spin yarn from) to spinning wheels to spun yarn to yarn dye. There were even angora rabbits for sale inside, and sheep, goats and alpaca in the outside buildings.


One thing I certainly did not expect to see was all the men at the spinning wheels. There were probably about 20 people there just sittin' and spinnin'. Plus countless others at their booths working on a knit or crochet project. There were also felters and weavers and hookers and dyers. Everything that you could do with animal fiber was being done.


Since I'm not currently in the market for a wheel, I focused mainly on the yarn. The pretty, pretty, pretty yarn. So much yarn. So pretty. I did really well, though - I only bought enough yarn for two projects. I wanted so much more.


My favorite yarn was at this lady's booth - Brooks Farm. I wanted to buy absolutely everything she had. But I didn't - I only bought one, though I thought my head would explode from trying to choose just one color of the wool/silk blend. Ahhh.... so pretty. The lady who sells the yarn is married to the great-nephew of the man who designed the Buffalo-head nickel. No, they don't use that as a selling point.


After glutting ourselves with yarn, Heather and I made it out to the barns to visit some animals. We were admiring these alpaca when their owner came up and brought one out for us to feel the wool. Nifty! Alpaca wool yarn is SO cool and soft.

So, that was our day at the Animal Fiber Fair. Heather and I looked and looked, but saw few (if any) other people in our age range. We're the new trendsetters, though - I'm telling you. All the stars are knitting now, right? I bet you that it is just a matter of time before you see Julia Roberts manning a spinning wheel or Madonna dragging little Lourdes around an Animal Fiber Fair.

You heard it here first!

Wikipedia Friday

I'm bored.

So! I've decided to institute "Wikipedia Friday" where I go on to Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia click the "Random Article" link, and then comment on the resulting topic here on my blog. I plan to make this a weekly installment for at least one week.

Can you taste the excitement??? Please, feel free to join in the fun by finding your own random article.

Today's topic: "Crocodile clip." aka "alligator clip" or "roach clip"

What I learned: the plastic part used to cover the metal part of the clip when it is being used for electricity-type stuff is called a 'boot.' Also, there is something called a 'beige box' that involves crocodile clips. A 'beige box' is involved in something called 'phone phreaking.' I don't know what that is.

Personal anecdote involving "crocodile clip": Well. The other day, I went to the dentist to get some fillings and they clipped that blue paper towel thing around my neck, and the hygienist clipped a little bit of my hair in the crocodile clip so my hair was being tugged on the whole time I was getting my fillings. That was kind of annoying.

Thoughts on Wikipedia's "Crocodile clip" article: It left me wanting more. Though the 'beige box-phone phreaking tangent' was intriguing.

Don't Forget to Remember

I'm fairly certain that most students at small liberal arts colleges (like my own alma mater) have (or will( at some point, referred to their campus as a 'bubble.' As in "College" is such a bubble. Good explanation, no? Actually, what people seem to generally be referring to is the complete and total lack of awareness of what is going on in the outside world. It was true at St. Olaf, as I'm sure it is true at other colleges and universities.

As it is true in medical school as well.

Which makes me think - do I carry my bubble around with me? Perhaps I am living in my own little Brenna-bubble that only lets in certain information, while being completely and totally oblivious to other things.

For instance - things the bubble lets in: 1. Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughn making out. 2. Hurricanes 3. Residency applications - specifically who in my class is applying to what field/programs. 4. Chocolate and coffee.

Things the bubble deflects: (beyond the general category of 'everything else'): Earthquakes. Did you KNOW that there was a gigantic earthquake in Pakistan? I kind of sort of did. I remember hearing about it at some point. But did you know that over 51,000 people are dead? That's a lot of people. A big ol' "disturbance in the force."

But... somehow that did not penetrate my little bubble until this very moment. I feel kind of ashamed. At the same time, though... I need to focus on school and applications, etc. so that I can hopefully someday provide some actual, tangible help instead of a piddly donation. So maybe the bubble is a good thing? Probably not, but I guess that's just the way it is going to be for the time being. I'll just try to turn down the deflection shield a little bit at a time.

Interview Frenzy...!

...okay. So, not an interview frenzy, per se. Not even really an interview hubbub, actually. Maybe a tad bit of interview commotion, though.

For those of you new to... me and my ramblings: I am going into pediatrics. And for those of you not familiar with the direct realtionship between monetary remuneration and the popularity of medical specialties (and/or the inverse relationship to level of difficulty): peds is not hard to get into. (presuming, of course, that you are sensible enough to apply to a school or two outside of the top ten - or smart enough to get away with it)

Originally, I wanted to apply to 10 schools. Ten is a nice, round number. Plus it is how many we get 'free' with the first lump payment of the application. Every school above ten costs an additional amount. Ten made a lot of sense.

I tried moderately hard, but couldn't narrow it down to ten. So... 15. Fifteen is also a good number. A strong number. Fifteen. Very nice.

In the end, I applied to 16 schools. Maybe not as sexy a number as 15, but still very elegant in its own square-of-four fashion. I like square numbers.

After submitting my application, I got three interviews relatively quickly. One of those three was quite persistent, too (making me believe it is a 'lesser' school - I'm that desirable??) My own school rounded my interviews out to four.

Then the silence.

No interviews. Which was all good and fine until someone introduced me to the forums at studentdoctor.net. Every time I open that freaking site, my whole body goes into panic mode. Panicpanicpanic. It was from those forums that I discovered that two of my top four choices were already offering interviews - and I hadn't gotten one! Horrors! Panicky-panicky horrors!

So... Nineteen. Nineteen schools is a great number of schools to apply to, don't you think? I mean, nineteen may not be as elegant as 16, but 19 is a prime number. That means it is special, and therefore luckier, right? Of course, right.

It especially helps when the three schools you add are ones that you know are offering interviews. I'm up to six interview offers now. I'm not a fan of the number six, though... too smug.

Talking to the peds residents who have been through all of this before - they say that 5-8 interviews was about all they could take. One I talked to this morning had done 11 interviews and said it was way too many. I need to start making decisions, I guess. But at the moment - it is SO addictive getting the interview offers. It helps ease the panicky panic. I just want more! More more more!!!

23 is a prime number, too, right...?

And 25 is a square....

Premature Maturity

There are times in my life where I walk around the hospital all day composing my next blog entry in my head. Those are the days where I consider faking a bathroom break to skip out of rounds to go capture my witticisms before they escape my head. I actually do carry around a notecard where I jot down funny things to blog about. These are the times where I refer to blogging as being 'addictive.'

Lately... eh. I seem to have kicked the habit. It isn't that my life has suddenly grown so exciting that I have no time to blog, or that it has grown so boring that I don't have anything to blog about. Really, it seems to be that I've found the right amount of business/laziness to actually get me out of my own head for the time being.

Because really, honestly? What is blogging if not the ultimate expression of self-centeredness and self-obsession? Here I am, writing about my piddly little life, and expecting others to not only read, but to actually care about it. And I do! I expect people to care and to appreciate me and my life and what I have to say! I'm not too proud to admit how self-centered I am.

I've actually been thinking about this for a while - the selfishness of blogging. It is a craze that has seemed to have swept the younger generations more so than the older ones. This is partially due to the fact that most of the 'older' generation don't spend hours on end in front of the computer. And, I believe, it is partially due to less selfishness in general in the older generations.

Right now I am 27 years old, single, and childless. The most important thing in my life is me. I'm always there, I know my every thought and I always try to make myself happy. The perfect relationship! Why not be selfish and self-centered? I'm gosh-darn good at it - as are most other people in my situation. Why shouldn't we blog about our lives? Children and teenagers are by their very nature completely self-centered. It is only as we age that we begin to comprehend the world around us. Until then, the entire world is just "I." We live inside our heads and within our desires.

Though I am no longer a teenager, I do still live inside my head a lot. Not as much, but enough. I don't know for sure, but I feel pretty certain that I'll stay this way until I have children of my own. I don't think you can really move outside yourself completely until there is someone else completely dependent upon you.

That said, the fact that I haven't been blogging most definitely does not mean I'm pregnant. (Though this would be a really funny way to announce it... I'll have to remember that for the future...) I think I'm just suffering from a bout of maturity.

Don't worry. It won't last long!

Fair Time!

Susan and I actually went to the fair on Monday. I've been too lazy to actually post anything yet. Here are some pictures for your visual pleasure:


This is Susan feeding an alpaca. Doesn't it make you just want to shear it and wash and card the wool and then spin it into yarn and knit a fuzzy scarf so that you too can look like that?? The alpaca, not Susan.


Me and a yak. Don't talk back!


This is evidence of how Susan and I share one brain some times. Note the same brown Danskos, the same Gap Long and Lean jeans. We're also both wearing gray shirts. Not quite the same shirt, but I came this close to wearing the same one she did.


We went on some rides, but I actually have a lot more pictures of the animals at the petting zoo area than of any of the rides. I think I was too annoyed because someone spit on my head from the ferris wheel. Ick. Still, gotta love a fair!

Marathon Wo-MAN

My dear sister is in a marathon today. Marathon. MAR-athon. That's 26.2 miles. Wowie-wow-wow. GO Melissa GO!!!!

How awesome is she? Totally.

This brings the marathon participation rate of our family up to 40%. (Melissa and Dad) That may be as high as it gets.

Half-Way...

...done with my last year of medical school. ::nervous laughter::

In less than a year, people will be calling me 'Doctor.' ::uncontrollable, nervous laughter::

Of course, I have to stop all this nervous laughing, or people may start to think that I'm a "Doctor." You know... Like... I made it up... or something... like... I'm not really a doctor... but say I am... and laugh... you know... haha...

There are some inflections that are just hard to get across in type.

Things That Make Life Worth Living

If you've noted the title of my blog, you might be aware of my appreciation for words - big or otherwise. (There is also the reference to medical school intended in the title, as well - the 'big words' of medical academia... like armamentarium, or gastroenterology or... polyhydramnios)

Well, we are at that special time of year again when Webster's dictionary announces the new words that they are going to add to the dictionary. I'm always fascinated to see what makes the cut. Apparently it takes about ten years for a word or phrase to actually make it in. I guess they need to make sure the word has staying power. Which explains why 'bikini wax' is just now making it in. And 'hospitalist' and (joy of joys) 'chick flick.'

It does not explain how I have made it through my life without ever hearing the phrase amuse-bouche (noun): a small complimentary appetizer offered at some restaurants. Or, my new favorite - retronym (noun): a term consisting of a noun and a modifier which specifies the original meaning of the noun. ("Film camera," for instance).

Mmmm. Isn't it great?

I will say that Webster's is way behind Wikipedia in sheer volume of new concepts and words and, well, just everything. But still, Webster's is an institution. And, I don't see Wikipedia putting anything out in print form! Egads!, that would be hu-normous!

Productive Uses of Time

When I was in AmeriCorps, I had a job that kept me busy for maybe 10-20 hours a week. But I was at work for about 40 hours a week. During that year, I got really good at wasting time. Mostly on the internet, and generally not in a productive helping-humanity-or-even-learning-anything-useful way. Basically, I had a list of websites that I'd visit every day, and a few online games (Scrabble, a crossword, etc.) that I'd play. After a few months of that, I felt like my brain was turning to mush. I was quite happy to leave that job to start medical school.

Well. I'm back to that brain-mushifying state of doing nothing. I'm on a surgical rotation right now, but my attending only does surgeries on Tuesday-Thursday - and even then, not always. I'm left with a lot of 'reading time.' If I was a better and wiser person, I'd use this time to, say... read. Alas, I am neither better nor wiser. So I end up watching television, playing computer games (Snood and Spider Solitaire mostly) and regularly checking my e-mail, people's blogs, and entertainment news sites. What an exciting life.

I've known for a long time that the busier I am, the more productive I am. Give my any free time, and I turn into a slug. I'm looking forward to residency because of that - I love feeling productive and busy, and this fourth year of med school thing really isn't doing it for me.

Words I will surely be eating a year from now.

In slightly more interesting news, I do have three interviews set up now. Three of the 16 programs to which I applied. A couple of the programs don't even start looking at applications until November 1. Slightly annoying. Only slightly, though.

I am so bored.

Theme Day

You know how some days there is some topic or person or word that just keeps popping up over and over seemingly randomly? Something like the word 'egregious' (which no one ever really uses) being used in a book, a newscast and by your sister-in-law all in the same day. I think of these as 'theme days.'

Today was a theme day.

And the theme was not egregious - neither the word or the meaning. Whatever could the theme be, you ask? Ex-boyfriends. Bizarre, no? No less bizarre from the fact that I was not the only person taken into this particular theme.

Susan and I (mostly Susan) had a Yard Sale today. In in, I sold the guitar given to me by an ex-boyfriend, and Susan sold a bracelet and Waterford crystal make-up brush (seriously) given to her by an ex. Then there was a new post made by an ex-boyfriend. And finally, to top it all off, I got a call from an old friend to tell me that she ran into one of my old boyfriends last night at a party and that he was asking about me.

Okay, so maybe that really doesn't count as a theme. But I'm taking it. AND, I'm taking the opportunity to discuss here, on my blog, my less-than-extensive dating history. To save for posterity as the 'before' as I await my exciting, date-filled 'after.'

My first boyfriend was named Joe. We started dating in Germany while on an exchange program. I was 16, he was 15. I think we started officially dating a few days before we left Germany - he asked me out as we were getting back on the bus after visiting a bunch of really beautiful churches and fountains. One might say that a beautiful German church or fountain would be a better setting for one's first 'wanna date' talk than the exhausty back of a bus. One would be right. Joe was a good first boyfriend, though. We dated through band camp (yes, I said band camp). He played the bass drum, and therefore had the coolness factor that made it okay for me to date a sophomore during my junior year. Eventually, Joe dumped me for a girl on the color guard named Jamie. My being a junior didn't make up for the distinctive un-coolness of being a clarinet player, I guess.

A few months later, I asked a guy named Aaron to the girl-ask-guy dance at our school (which, for some reason still unknown to me was called Bali Hai). I had had an on-again, off-again crush on him during our sophomore year. We ended up dating for about three weeks, I think. Not very long, but it was high school, so three weeks is a long time! Even if one of those weeks we missed several days due to snow. Aaron and I parted relatively amicably. I think there was just a little too much ego to split between two people there.... During our senior year, Aaron started dating a mystery girl from another high school. Apparently, they are married now! That makes me officially the Last Girl He Dated Before He Got Married. Weird.

After high school there was a looooong stretch of un-boyfriendedness marked by several close misses of disastrous relationships - notably during my junior year of college where I nipped a semi-budding flirtation in the bud. Mostly it was because he was two years my junior and I was on res life staff in the dorm he lived in. Also, it was partly due to the fact that his name was Bert.

When I was 24, I started dating a great guy in Alaska named T. I never knew how to spell T's name for sure. T? Tee? He didn't seem to care. I generally just avoided writing it, so that worked fine. T was a wonderful boyfriend. For my birthday, he threw me a party, gave me a guitar, painted me a picture, AND had two Dairy Queen ice cream cakes packed in frozen ice and flown up from Seattle. (seeing as there was no DQ in Sitka, and that is 'my' traditional birthday cake) I was not a very good girlfriend to T. I knew when I started dating him that I'd dump him when I left for med school. Yeah. I felt too guilty to do it at first, so I waited about a month before I crushed him. He is married now too, marking the second time I'm the Last Girl He Dated Before He Got Married. I heard he proposed on top of a mountain (literally) - I did do better at finding boys who have a better sense of setting by that time, I guess.

After T was.... well... No one really. I've had a couple of disastrous and/or spark-less dates during med school, but no official 'boyfriend.' Which REALLY makes it weird that I could have an ex-boyfriend themed day, don't you think? Hmm.

Oh, well. I made some money at the yard sale AND I got a suit yesterday. FANtastic.