Looking Up

Well, we got a cat. His name is Eoin, which I personally feel is a little pretentious given that we are not Irish, but my husband's ancestry is, and he is studying the history of music in Ireland, so I capitulated. I kind of think that the new-agey back-to-fairies-and-nature types ruined Ireland for the rest of us... but I digress.

Eoin is a three year old black cat, who is very sweet and friendly, independent enough that I don't feel like I'm constantly tripping over him, and disdains his new scratcher. "Why would I use that silly cardboard thing," he asks, "when your living room chair has such lovely, resilient upholstery? And is that CATNIP I see on there? Come now, foolish woman - joke's on you, it has no effect on me. Crack is whack!"

Our poor furniture.

I discovered a great neuroanatomy tutorial page on Washington University's med school page - thank goodness. Because I think that the module author for neuroanatomy here may have gotten into the catnip. The book we were supposed to use is a good text, but the objectives don't really ... go with it well. So I have spent a great deal of time being frustrated and confused, and I don't really deal with either very well. As a result, this is the first post in awhile, as I decided that dwelling on the situation would not do much to improve my mood.

Anyway - the point is, now that I understand what the heck the guy is talking about, I've realized that he wrote a really comprehensive module that simply needs a little more background knowlege to be understood. And neuro is really, really interesting. Go figure. I think that was the worst part - knowing it was going to be such a great topic and then... not understanding a word.

I've also been dealing with some personal stress... I realize that I am a liberated modern woman, etc., and that doing dishes, dinner, laundry, windows, floors, and toilet is not necessarily part of my job description as first year medical student. That said - I'm also newly married, a new home-owner, and would really like our house to feel... like a home. Not an oversized dorm room. So I feel like I'm letting someone down if I don't make dinner, or if I let the dishes pile up or the cookie jar lie empty. I'm not sure exactly whom I'm letting down - most likely, just me. My husband's - well, he theoretically can cook, do laundry, dishes, etc., but I think he forgets that when he does, he's just doing his part, rather than doing me a personal favor by taking over my chores. But he really believes he thinks that these jobs should be shared equally.

Anyway ... a lot of the men in my program are married, and very few of the women - so the wives my age I know are stay at home wives and mothers, who have neat homes, hobbies, enjoy baking, and produce bouncing bundles of joy. And even though I want to be a doctor, and really enjoy what I'm doing, it's hard being constantly bombarded with other people who are doing all the other things I would really like to do. I love to bake - I love babies. But I don't have a wife, and I'm in med school - so unlike the men in med school, who can get married and have those idealistic home lives, I have to use a crock pot and get a cat. Whom I love dearly, but that's not exactly the point.

New Chair

I finally found a comfy chair that fits up the stairs in our 1955 Cape Cod - not a small accomplishment! It's a light green wing chair, and has kind of chenille-y material. My husband says it looks like an old lady chair, but considering that he married a woman who like rose-scented lotion, cats, and crocheting, I'm not entirely sure what he expected. I think it looks like a perfect place to sit in my very own little study, where I can read for hours about physiology and chemistry and not be disturbed.

I'm spending way too much time looking at cats on http://www.petfinder.com even though I know we've agreed that we won't get one till spring. I want a kitty... sigh. Not sure how to do it, because most places want a reference from a vet and I've only ever had pets at my parents' house. Their vet knows me, but don't know if they'd accept a reference from him or not since I wasn't the primary pet-owner.

Guess I'll find out in a few months.

Another Day in the Neighborhood...

Or, more correctly, the Independent Study library. In my gray little cubicle, which I have happily outfitted with all the comforts of home so that I can at least have a few material things to ameliorate the effects of studying all day long.

I have a green blanket, filtered water brought from home (because Columbus water is awful and the medical school seems to filter all of theirs through a limestone deposit - it comes out white from the water fountains. Literally), a Hot Shot (nifty thing - put the water in and it heats and dispenses enough for a really big cup of tea), a beverage warmer, a space heater, and a huge stock of granola bars and easy mac.

Still ... all I want to do is curl up with my green blanket by the space heater and take a nap.

And yes, I did just get here.

Oh, a long day is approaching...

Why I'm Doing This

This is just a reminder to myself, because it has been a pretty hellish week.

I'm doing this because I can't be a doctor without knowing how these things work.
I'm doing this because I never want to look at my patient, who trusted me, and tell him or her that I screwed up because I didn't bother to learn the boring details.
I'm doing this because I want to help people.




I'm doing this because I'm a masochist.

To all future patients -

You're welcome.

good bye, cruel undergrad...

I am finally done! Unless I seriously overestimated my success on that molecular biology test, I believe I passed and am officially finished with "college."

Wow. Definitely an adult now, huh? No more excuses because I'm young and stupid.. from this point on, I'll just be stupid, which isn't nearly so endearing.

Anyway - we went and ordered a cake today!

http://www.mcarthurs.com/wc203.asp

No flowers on top, but that's the one... pretty, huh? It's traditional, and pretty, but not too frilly. And chocolate... mm.. yes. My dress may be about all the frilly this wedding can handle. Actually, I know it's about all the frilly that I can handle. I love it, really, though I perpetually make fun of myself for it. Not going to post a picture on the off chance that Fiancé finds this page - I don't care if he reads but he doesn't want to know what the dress looks like, and the temptation might be too much. lol

Sent the contract to the realtor... anyone reading, please cross your fingers or say a prayer for us! I'm not picky... any well-wishes will do. I'm trying not to get so excited about The House (as I think of it.) If we didn't get it, I'd be too upset if I'd already considered how lovely my teapots will look in the corner cabinet in the kitchen, or how nicely a vegetable garden would fit in the back corner of the yard. For example.

I'm at a loss. It's been so long since I didn't have homework or studying to do that I don't exactly know what to do with myself now. I think I'll maybe spend the rest of the afternoon with tea and Harry Potter.

I have no sense for measurement, thanks for asking

This morning I very carefully poured water into my coffeepot to the 2-cup line. I am trying to cut down on the liquid crack. Unfortunately (fortunately? hm...) my ability to measure is pretty deficient, so I ended up with four cups. Yes, you did read that right. The worst part is that I was damn sure I poured two cups of water in the machine. And last time I ran it, it went the full time - so I don't believe there was any water still in the reservoir.

This is a long-standing affliction of mine. On more than one occasion, my fiancé has looked at me incredulously, hearing me say confidently, "Oh, it's about ten yards away..." and then carefully pointed out that it is, in fact, closer to ten feet. Ahem. I once mis-estimated that a 10-lb weight weighed "about a pound." Though I did warn my 6th-grade science teacher when he asked me to guess that I wouldn't be anywhere close.

It's a little weird, really. I can estimate the center of gravity for nearly any object, and I can tell immediately if two things are parallel or slightly askew - but when it comes to any kind of real measurement, I'm impaired.

Oh, well. More coffee for me - I couldn't let it go to waste, could I?



Still no contract from the realtor... despite my having been told twice yesterday (once at 11:20 and once at 2:30, thank you) that I would have it within two hours. I'm a bit irritated, but to be honest am getting weary of the whole process and no longer care. Either we'll get it, sign it, and buy a house... or we won't. To be honest, I'm feeling a little vindicated because my friends and family, seeing this process, finally realize that I was not exaggerating when I complained about Realtor's absentmindedness.

Anyway. I have a molecular biology test tomorrow; I should maybe study for it. Graduation is so close I can smell it - well, figuratively. To be honest, our graduation is being held in the gym, so I don't really want to smell it.

House developments

To the astonishment of the majority of my twenty-something friends, we are going to buy a house.

Even though that's something "grown-ups" do.

Because although it may seem completely counter-intuitive, we are, in fact, grown-ups. I am still not entirely sure when I made the switch. Last I knew, I was sixteen, pathologically stupid, barefoot, and convinced that I still had decades to think about what I would be "when I grew up." Except, of course, that I woke up this morning realizing that at the end of this summer I will be by any standard an Adult.
By August, I will be married. The big commitment that according to the laws of this fine nation only Grown-Ups are allowed to make. According to several of my friends, this will mark the end of my independent life, and I will no longer be allowed to go out with them in the evenings. I wasn't aware of that rule. Luckily, I don't think that the fiancé is aware of it, either.
By August, I will own a house. That house will cost more money than I have made in my entire working life. This is a sobering realization, to say the least.

So we are in the midst of this collaborative effort to buy a house. Between my parents and grandparents, his parents, and us (not to mention the realtor and mortgage broker, who happens to be his aunt) we have quite a crowd of opinions, prejudices, and hardheaded fools. (The hardheaded fools are mostly on my side; I'm afraid it's a genetic trait. Poor Fiancé hasn't yet realized exactly what that means for the 10+ years of his life when he will be trying to raise our teenagers). The whole endeavor has been frustrating and exciting - frustrating because it's hard to find something that everyone agrees about ("No, I don't like that kind of basement," leads to, "Well, are you sure you don't want a garage?" and on, and on...) and we're balancing a fine line between caring about the valuable experience they have to offer and not caring at all about the biases that they have because of their own prior experiences. The exciting is the buying a house bit. A place where we can come home and be by ourselves. A place where I can have a garden. A place for bookshelves, comfy chairs and homemade bread. And that part makes it all worth it.