Cool Beans

I recently purchased a new CD player...one capable of playing MP3s. My old player was having some issues playing anything burned, so I decided to move on. Anyways, the exciting thing about the new one is that I can essentially play a CD containing over 300 songs, which pretty much negates my having to carry around a case full of CDs. In fact, all of my favourite songs, off of all the 500 + albums I have access to can fit on one CD. And that CD is currently being burned.

Which brings me to the downside to this whole thing. I'm not the most patient person in the world. I'm very much a fan of instant gratification. Waiting for things is just not something that works well. And while burning your average CD of 20 or so songs takes a scant five minutes or so, burning one containing 359 of them takes a little longer. Add to that the fact that there's some kind of file compression going on as well (don't ask, I'm not technical), and you've got a pretty long wait. I'm gonna have to go to bed before this sucker is done. Which is irksome because I wanna listen to it NOOOOWWWW!!!!

In other news, I have been warned not to badmouth any universities on this blog, lest they disqualify my med school applications. I think that's assuming FAR too much about the thoroughness of the Admission Committees' methods, but I shall acquiesce to the suggestion. Mothers know best anyways.

So: my rants about how awful the various places I visited were and how much of a pain it was to get there were firmly tongue in cheek and were intended for the purposes of humour ONLY. I greatly appreciated having the opportunity to travel across this great nation of ours, seeing new and exciting places and meeting new and intelligent people, and I would relish the prospect of going to any one of the very fine institutions I visited.

Stay tuned for the REAL dirt on June 1st (after acceptances are sent out)!

Can't Talk, Must Eat

Well, far be it for me to be a conscientiously consistant poster, but I realize it's been some time since my last update. And I also realize that if I plan on acrueing legions of adoring fans via this blog, I shall have to feed them some tidbits of information now and then, lest they decide to forage in the pastures of greener minds than mine. Oh who the hell am I kidding? Everyone I know reads at least ten blogs per day and could care less about the day to day events of my own existance.

So, let me see...interesting things to report...

Well, I was supposed to go visit my Aunt for dinner this Saturday (and was reasonably excited about this, as it had been several years since we'd seen each other last). I say supposed to, because for some reason (and for this I have no rational excuse) I managed to convince myself that we were doing dinner on Sunday. So Saturday night at 11:30, my slightly inebriated aunt calls wondering where we are and if we're okay. Oh damn. Didn't you get the memo? I'm an idiot. Sorry.

So now all of a sudden we had Sunday off. Cool beans. Erin's parents came over from the Island and got to see my place (which was messy, but not as bad as it could have been), and then they were foisted off on Jon, and he was told to go show them around UBC. Well, I had to work and Erin had to sleep so WHO ELSE was gonna be the entertainer? Nevertheless, they had fun (Ann and Peter are pretty great people...intelligent, perceptive, and into the arts...makes for good conversation).

I have recently decided to get into shape. For those of you wondering about my MSN name...well, it's the result of this decision. I am in pretty constant pain. Fitness World is pretty cool, and if I wasn't a poor person who lives like a twenty minute walk away from it, I'd probably get a membership. As it is...well, we'll see. I think I'll try to find other ways to get in shape once my time with them expires. Jon's encouraging me to bike to UBC with him. That's like giving me a green light to indulge in wining and self-pity. Just when you thought it was all over! Mwa ha ha ha haaaa!

Erin's coming over tonight and there will be salmon so I must go prepare for the eating that is soon to come.

In Which I am Inconvenienced

Well damn, I just got called in to work early. How infernally crappy. I was all up early and wanting to bike up to UBC with Jon (marking the start of my new fitness regimen), bike back, have a leisurely shower, a light breakfast, and head in to work at noon. So much for that.

Life's busy here, but it's the sort of busy I can handle. Lots of work, lots of socializing with friends and, surprisingly, family. One of my aunts (my Dad's sister) lives out here, and she called me out of the blue a few days ago, inviting me to dinner on Sunday. Apparently another one of my Aunts is coming in to town from Edmonton as well, so she'll maybe be there too. It's been years since I've seen any of these people, so we'll have lots to catch up on, also, her daughter is a current medical student, so I can pick her brains about the experience. They live in North Van, and I work Sunday until 8, so we'll be dining fashionably late (9 or 9:30, depending on how the buses run). I'm hoping we'll be able to get home okay.

This week and next week are volunteer appreciation weeks, and Science World has hooked me up with free passes to various attraction in the area...museums, art galleries, gardens and so forth. So Jon and I have been getting out to see some of them. It's kinda hard, since my work schedual is a real bitch to plan around, but so it goes.

I also won some random pass to Fitness World. It's two weeks to start, but I'm in a draw for a longer membership. I find this ironic, since I've been MEANING to get my ass out of bed and into shape for months. Maybe this will be the prod that finally galvanizes me into action. Let's hope.

So, lack of humour, insight, or anything interesting to post about. Just a stupid, trivial update on my life. Oh well, at least I didn't give you a detailed rundown on what I ate for breakfast. There are depths to which even I cannot sink.

Nevermore shall I wander

Done!!! Done done done! No more Canada-tripping for me! I get to stay in one place for the next five months at least! Let me just say that I could NEVER take a job where you have to travel constantly. I just appreciate home and its comforts too much.

That being said, Toronto was a very successful trip. My interview went great (unfortunately, at U of T it only counts for 20% of their final evaluation of you so...meh), got to see Matt (and indulge in some NDP-bashing), ate lots of ice cream and mexican food, and procured a couple of CDs and books while I waited for my turn to blow people away with my razor wit, rapier intelligence, and mind-blowing good looks. I thought I had to be at the hospital at 8 am for pre-interview prep sessions, but, due to a mis-reading of my letter on my part, this was an incorrect assumption. I didn't have to be there til 11. So, with three hours to kill I did what any sane person would do in Toronto. I shopped. Yay!

So now I'm back and I can settle back into my routine. Just have a few loose ends still to tie up and then it's smooth sailing until May, when I hear back from the schools and either get thoroughly drunk in celebration, or get thoroughly drunk in an attempt to kill all those brain cells that let me down and got me rejected. Either way, much drinking will ensue. Also tentatively planning a trip to the Island in late May/early June. But that's just a 'gee wouldn't it be great to see everyone again' kinda thought with no concrete modus operandi attached.

Scissor Sisters kick ass.

What's the Term for Claustrophobia Involving People?

I'll admit it, I'm a country girl. Though I was born in Calgary, my developmental years have largely been spent in so-called 'rural' communities. I thought my highschool of 800 students was huge, and my university of 2000 was a little overwhelming (at least at first). And now I'm here in Vancouver, the second largest city in Canada, a place I'd enjoyed visiting but never remotely wanted to live in. Too big, too dirty, too crowded. I've survived this past...year (or very nearly...I can't believe it's almost May again) tolerably well, due in no small part to the fact that Kitsilano is a smallish community, and my area of it is very self-contained. I can do/buy/visit pretty much anything I could ever want in the portion encompassed by a five block radius centered on my apartment. Of course, UBC is a little further than that, as are any decent music stores...but groceries, vast parks and beaches, work, laundromats, game shops and a plethora of restaurants are literally mere blocks away. So Kits feels very much like home to me because the whole 'downtown is only ten square blocks' thing is very Duncan. And Lennoxville would fit very comfortably into Duncan about four times.

But, unfortunately, although I can spend 95% of my time in this little chunk of heaven, and 99% of my time in the slightly larger piece of paradise stretching from Granville and 5th to Granville and Broadway and West to UBC, every so often I must venture further afield. I've got to make the trek to downtown Vancouver (which I generally dislike), and sometimes I even have to head into Burnaby. In order to do this, I must take the skytrain.

Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the skytrain...at like 9 in the morning or 8 in the evening, when it's practically empty and you can sit and watch the various districts of Vancouver zip by below you. But at any time in between...it's hell. You get on and the place is already packed, reeking of sweat and stale alcohol and halitosis, and there's no where to sit. So you stand, and if you're lucky (like I was today), you find a corner with a wall to put your back to. Every time the train stops, a few people trickle off, but a vast wave floods in. Before you know it, you're wedged between some scruffy guy who hasn't bathed in months and a pack of perfume-scented, loudly twittering teenage girls. Across the way from you a trio of 13-year-old would-be gangstas are swearing loudly, and some creepy, lank-haired degenerate is giving you odd looks and trying to edge closer. You're all packed like the proverbial sardines, desperately trying to maintain your balance as the train sways and jerks along, you're fighting off a headache from the girls' perfume, and you're two stops from home when the doors swing open again to reveal an overweight, sour-faced woman on a motorized scooter. She literally pushes her way into the car, sending the hoodlums into the teen girls and leaving you practically face-to-face with creepy guy, who keeps licking his lips and darting sweaty little glances at you. The overweight woman proceeds to GET OFF her scooter and fiddle around with its back wheels. She is totally blocking the door. When your stop finally arrives, you squirm past creepy guy (who leans towards you, so you HAVE to touch him) and wriggle past the lady, who swears at you as you try to wedge yourself past her scooter. All this with two bags of groceries in your arms.

Oh yeah, that was half an hour ago. And everything happened just like I said. No exaggerations. Granted, there usually isn't a creepy guy looming over you when you ride, but everything else is pretty standard. There's just something about being crammed in with so many people in such a small space that makes me nauseous. I like people just fine...but in small doses thanks.

Heh, and day after tomorrow I leave for Toronto...an even bigger city.

Lazy Bum.

Yup, that's me. How lazy am I? So lazy that my usual hours of sleep per night have increased from 8 to 10.5 in the past two weeks (we have new sheets...they're cozy). So lazy that I haven't contacted either Matt OR my multitude of cousins in Toronto about staying with them this Friday night (despite the fact that I've been meaning to for the past week). So lazy that my tax forms made it to my mother JUST in time to be processed (after they'd sat around my apartment for a month). So lazy that I can't be bothered to think of anything else to write, so I'll end this post right now. Hah.

My kitten is vomiting in the bedroom. Christ please do not let him be throwing up in the bed.

Where is my Mind?

Honestly, I think I'm coming down with early Alzheimers or something...I just spent half an hour frantically searching for my freaking T-4's...only to find them embedded in some out-of-the-way, obscure clipboard on the bottom shelf of an overloaded bookcase. What the hell was I thinking when I put them there? "Hmm...these should be safe here...no one would DREAM of looking for them in this clever little hiding place. Ha ha! All those nefarious persons seeking to use my tax papers for their evil schemes of world-domination will be thwarted again!" Man.

And what really kills me is this is the second time this week that I've lost something rather important to me personally, but not really of any value to anyone else through too-clever hiding. I managed to misplace all FOUR of my checkbooks earlier...just in time for my monthly rent. Go me. After turning the place upside-down, I managed to find a brand new checkbook...and used that. I've since found two of the four I lost in various "oh, it'll be very handy to have a checkbook here sometime in the future, tee-hee aren't I clever" places. Like my Daytimer. And my RCM syllabus. I'm losing it people. Med school? Yeah right. I can just see myself telling some patient: all right, let me just have a listen to your chest with my...um...where did I put that thing? Honestly, I had it RIGHT here! Hang on a second..." Followed by ransacking of office and general ire, until said stethoscope turn up in some completely whacked out place. That'd inspire confidence for sure.

In other news, I don't have to do my taxes, my parents are doing them for me. Nya-nya-nya-nya!!!

Must go. Sleep calls.

Recipe for Gorging

Wanna know what's really sweet? Finding a huge wheel of brie on sale for only $10.
Wanna know what's sweeter? Having that brie with fresh-bought bread, sauteed mushrooms, roasted garlic, and a perfectly chilled white wine.

I love anniversaries.

As a side note, I watched 'Ray' last night (while indulging in the above). An excellent movie. No surprises that Jamie Foxx took the oscar for his performance in it.

I am off to do laundry! My life is so exciting!

Can You Be a Country Singer If You Don't Like Dogs?

Man, I think I had a relapse of whatever it was that got me on that fateful flight. But on a much smaller scale. Bascially, I feel crappy...but not crappy enough to stop eating. It takes a lot of crappy to make my appetite go away, let me tell you. But not very much crappy to make me feel like not doing anything. Right now I'd really like to spend my day at home with my cat and some good movies and lots of Cadbury Mini Eggs (they're so on sale right now! Yay for post-Easter binging!). But I have to go to work. Where I'll probably be bitchy and miserable.

I've been listening to Dropkick Murphys a lots lately...very much enjoying their stuff. There's something irrisistable about the fusion of fast-paced punk and traditional Celtic music. The Rocky Road to Dublin is especially stellar.

With all my woebegone posting lately, I've been considering a career as a coutry-music lyricist. All they do is sing about pain and loss and how their man done run off with their dog and now they're all alone. But I am really more of a cat person than a dog person, and losing your cat just doesn't have that classic country angle. Nobody poses in a rusted-out chevy, wearing work-scarred leather, against a wide wild-country backdrop with their trusty cat at their side. My album cover photo would probably suck...it'd be missing the crucial dog or horse aspect. Would my music be missing a similar (but more metaphorical) aspect?

Questions for the ages yo. Questions for the ages.

Of Flight and Purging

Well, I'm back from London. Despite my packed schedual (flying out, interviwing, having tours/info sessions, and flying back home in the space of 24hrs) this trip definately felt longer than any of my previous ones. There are a couple of reasons for that...the first is that I went almost entirely without sleep for those 24 hrs and the 18 hrs preceding them (which I spent at work). The second...food poisoning.

I have no clue what I ate...I had Subway at some point earlier in the day, but so did Jon and he felt no ill-effects. Maybe it was the handful of almonds I ingested right before boarding. All I know is, five minutes into the flight my stomach started cramping violently. I was in pretty bad pain for the first hour or so...though I managed to sink into a fitful doze eventually. But I woke a little later, covered in sweat, feeling feverish, and generally not very happy. Then I felt that aweful feeling...you know, like the bottom has dropped out of your stomach and your food, having suddenly lost its way, is planning on taking the only exit route left to it: your mouth. I realized I had about ten seconds to get to the bathroom before my seatmates became very unhappy with me. This dilemma was worsened because I was in the middle seat, and the people to either side of me were sleeping. Undeterred, I leapt over the lady to my left and staggered to the washroom just in time.

This happened an hour into the flight. It was the first bout of MANY. I must have visited that washroom ten times over the course of the rest of the trip. Visions of losing control in my interview (a scant six hours away) loomed...would my panel be able to look past the sprays of bile and see me for the fabulous potential doctor I was? Would I pass out and crack my head on the table? Would I just explode in a shower of stomach acid? Could I beg for a bed at the hopsital and lie down and (hopefully) recover before I had to go in? I was verging on panic, awash with self-pity and misery. And then we got ready to land.

Landing is a twenty-minute process. And during this time you are not permitted to leave your seats. For anything. Even puking. After all, that's why they have those little vomit bags tucked into the seat pocket in front of you. But if you've never used one, loudly, frantically, and for a prolonged period in front of an entire plane of horrified people and between two persons desperately trying to move as far away from you as possible without undoing their seatbelts, then you've never been humiliated. I was nearly in tears by the time we finally got docked, and wound up sitting by myself in the plane while everyone else deboarded.

I got off finally, bought myself a ginger ale (something I thought might settle my stomach), and sat down to wait for my connecting flight. And immediately felt fine. Tired, but absolutely fine. Bizzare. Nevertheless, I didn't eat anything until AFTER my interview was over. It went very well, probably the best one so far actually. The panel asked some tough questions, but I really feel I answered them excellently. I think they got a better feel for who I am and what I'm capable of than any of my previous panels. So we'll see.

In much happier news: Jon and I have reached our two year mark as of today! Yes, exactly two years ago we were at the Pilsen, drinking copious amounts of apricot beer with the J9 crew, and I (feeling the beer) took the initiative and grabbed his leg. And the rest...is not fit for public consumption. Suckers!

London Calling.

Well, I was really enjoying this little respite from my cross-country-jaunting (and, consequently, from my constant state of cringe-inducing whining), but all good things must come to an end. Or so some person once said.

London awaits, and although I'd be ecstatic to be boarding a plane to head to the London that first springs to mind when I mention that location, the reality leaves me somewhat less overjoyed. No echoey historically significant torture chambers and stone-faced-guard-taunting for yours truly. I am instead bound for London Ontario, a far less exotic destination (in fact, I think probably the antithesis of an exotic locale). I am there only for about 8 hours though, just enough time to get from plane to info sessions to tour to interview and back to plane, so it will maybe not be as depressing as my previous trips away from home. We shall see. I am growing tired of interviews. Wait, did I already say that? Like ten times?

And after this one's over, I get to go to Toronto (the bums finally offered me an interview) on April 15-16th. This could potentially be far more enjoyable as once of my good friends from undergraduate studies at BU is living there (Matt Furrow)...but ironically, there is a very good chance that Matt will be in BC at the same time as I'm in Toronto. What the hell are the odds? Ah well, should that prove to be the case I'll stay with one of my many cousins out there instead and see Matt here in BC when I get back.

Anyways, I'm off to the airport in an hour, so I've gotta get ready. Taking the redeye out tonight...thought I'd do this interview trip all in one go with no sleeps or stops. We'll see just how good an idea that is AFTER I've had my interview tomorrow afternoon, following a sleepless flight tonight. Huzzah! Onward to adventure!