In the year 2008

The gears have been grinding along in 2007, but as the year comes to a close I realize that 2008 is going to be a big ass freaking year. I'm trying to utilize the Power of Now and the Secret (which worked oh so well in guaranteeing a Patriots 16-0 regular season and will also work to give us a superbowl win and a celtics championship), but I gotta admit that I'm kinda scared.

My best friend had a baby today. A healthy baby girl, whom I will hopefully meet tomorrow. And because I'm a med student I will probably do a full neonatal physical exam... but I digress.

My girl-friends have all mostly left the Boston area, and I really miss them.

Career-wise, I have pretty much decided that I will be going into Genetics. I'm kinda cool with whatever in medicine, except surgery and emergency med (those people suck at life.. and yet a few of my best med school friends will be going into those fields).

Anyways I'm going into genetics because I liked it the most out of EVERYTHING the first two years, and it's an up and coming field. This means that hardly anyone is doing it, so despite my dismal yet passing Step 1 score I will most likely get my first choice for residency.

In 2008, I will have to do the application process all over again. It's a retarded cycle I've gotten myself into. I stressed about applying to college, now I could care less about the SATs. I stressed about applying to med school, now I don't even know what's on the MCAT. I am stressing about residency, but once I'm accepted my Step 1 score will too pass into obilivion.

It's a lot, and my mind is quite jumbled. But for now I think I'm going to focus on the things I know I can do. 

My new years resolution is to use my phone. To call people and actually talk to them. I still hide behind emails, blogging and instant-messaging. So I'm hopefully going to change that and try to at least call people once a month... maybe once a week for the family, but we'll see how that one goes.

Happy New Year everyone! I hope bigger and better things happen for you all!

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Happy Holidays!

I hope everyone had a fantastic holiday season, and will take a day off to go buy the perfect new years dress like I might today at Saks 70% off designer sale (YAYAYAYAY).

Although this Christmas was no different from the past few years, I feel like I had more fun. Maybe it's because I tried not to dread going home. Maybe it's because I drank a tad more than usual, said the F word and then blamed the pinot noir... to which my aunt laughed and said "typical Roxy!"

The only thing that was a bit bah humbug was that my gym might have terminated my employment without telling me, therefore ending my free membership... therefore I can't work the shifts I said I work this coming weekend.

ok ok I was a little bit more intelligent (sneaky/deceitful) about it. I worked out on Monday at the local branch in my hometown. After my workout, one of the front desk people asked me if I still was employed there because the computer said my account was inactive. I went to the computer and tried to sign in, but it wouldn't let me.

I immediately thought about last week when I went to the downtown gym as usual, put my stuff in the back as usual, and then was accosted at the end by a new ass. manager who didn't recognize me and wanted to know if I even worked there. Her rudeness makes me wonder if SHE terminated my employment.

So I did what anyone in my position would (should) do. I called up the branch that hired me and point blank asked if I was fired. The manager on the phone said she didn't put in any paperwork, and I should call corporate after xmas to find out.

Before I called corporate, though, I thought that maybe I should add some junk to my trunk (shifts to work). So this morning I called a branch close to my apartment where I have done sub work before and told them I was home for the holidays and free to work any available shifts this week. The manager asked, "can you open this saturday and sunday?"

SUUUUUUUURE!!

So in about 10 minutes I'm gonna call corporate, tell them it's extremely rude and unprofessional to let someone go without any notice... especially when said person (me) is scheduled to work in the next coming days.

Happy Holidays!

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Where my girls at?

I don't mean for this to be a sad post. I'm really not sad. I'm just lonely.

This entire week I've been free to do whatever I want. No work. No studying. No worries. Unfortunately this includes no one to call.

Sure RedSox is at my beck and call for the most part, but lately he hasn't been. When I went up to Maine to do a rotation, he took the free time to hang out and reconnect with all his friends. What I didn't know was just how many friends he has. Guys and Girls, couples and singles.

Me? My friends? Well a few moved out of Boston. A couple went to Africa. The rest went home after Friday's exam. I don't know how I have a knack for befriending girls who are not from the Boston area, but I'm gonna look at it as an Orbitz guide above all else.

So here I am drinking champagne by myself and watching Gossip Girl. I'd love to be one of those gossip girls with all their parties and fun... but really what I'd love is to have my girls back.

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Doh!

I hadn't done any promotional modelling in a while, so when the opportunity came up on my vacation when I have NOTHING to do, I thought it would be fun to work an event. I got the info on a Simpsons Balloon promotion and jumped on it. I love the Simpsons. I love balloons.

My only worry was "what if the event is outdoors and it's freezing?"

Surprise Surprise... we were outdoors and it was cold.

Of course today, it was freakin FREEZING. The first hour and a half we were outside. I ran into any office or store that was open every 5 minutes just so my toes wouldn't fall off. I was ready to quit when I had an idea.

"RedSox! My feet are freezing! Will you go buy me some Uggs?" - Roxy (cutesy voice)

I hate Uggs, but I know how warm they are. I had to!

Half an hour later I get a call from RedSox telling me Saks is out of Uggs, but he found another cute pair and bought them for me.

Fine. I could care less. Just please give my feet better protection.

At that moment a miracle happened... rather the boss lady finally used her brain. She invited us all to use her office space RIGHT where we were promoting. It only took her 2 hours to think that it might be more efficient to blow up balloons indoors and have people stay warm so their fingers can bend to tie these balloons on parking meters.

Anyways, RedSox showed up at that exact moment to give me my boots. I don't know what to say about this boy, but he has excellent taste. He bought me Stuart Weitzman boots. Even though they were still as ugly as Uggs, I told him I loved them.

They kept my feet warm. The event was a success.

Simpsons DVD out today. Go buy it!

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Power of NOW

I've read two interesting pieces lately that have helped me understand my relationship with RedSox a lot better... and maybe all my relationships a lot better.

1. The Power of Now. It's one of those self-help books that my sister gave to me. It's pretty good in that I pretty much already practice its teachings. I try to enjoy NOW. I don't future think too much. I focus on the happiness I have now. There's no pressure for commitment in a relationship or worries about residency because I am happy with and focused on the way things are going NOW.

2. Almost Mr. Right. It's an interesting blog read about the ideal mate. I bitched and moaned big time about RedSox's weight and conservative sexual preferences, but I tried my darndest to get over it because he is awesome otherwise. We get along really well. We laugh together all the time. We try new restaurants, go out to bars, attend fashionable events, etc etc... pretty much everything else i LOVE, we do.

I know it makes me look like a superficial bitch to want him to lose weight. I do find him attractive, but I wished he hadn't shown me past pictures of him when he was thinner and athletic. That's all I can think of now.

I'm sure all women and men even would agree that great sex is very important to the relationship, so I won't even explain that one again.

So why do I stick with RedSox? Because right NOW, the relationship works for both of us. If I end up in Boston for residency, only then will I address my concerns full force. If I leave Boston (which is what I would like to do), then we'll break up and life will be a shit-show of fun and promiscuity all over again... and I actually miss that.

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Pink Eye Punishment

So I recently got an email from WhiteRapper telling me I creeped back into his dreams. If I'm game, he'll take me on a weekend get-a-way. Vegas, Miami... anyplace warm.

I thought about it. I even let him start planning it. Then the vision in my right eye started to blur.

Ok so my classmate gave me conjunctivitis, but I figure I deserve it. I really wanted to go to Vegas, to go away, to get away.

Then the guilt hit. I didn't know I had guilt after sleeping with OleMiss (which I still don't feel badly about).

Recently RedSox has gone above and beyond, moreso than usual. He loves me. To think that I would *think* about straying just proves I don't deserve his love.

So now I'm off to bed, feeling better that I told WhiteRapper no... but dreading the pink eye I will wake up to tomorrow morning.

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can women blue- ball?

The past two weekends, Redsox and I have had incredible weekend get-a-ways.

Last weekend we explored Portland, ME. Portland has fantastic restaurants, decent nightlife, nice people. Our inn was super cute. RedSox and I had more sex than we've had in a while.

Naturally, I think, it makes sense that we should have a repeat this weekend. So I looked up B&B's and found a great place in Kennebunkport, ME. We arrived and it was gorgeous. The whole place was beautifully decorated for Chrismas. Our room has a fireplace and waterfall shower. It was more than stunning.

But we didn't have as much sex as last weekend. In fact I felt I begged a bit last night. Then this morning... I coulda sworn I blue-balled.

I was in the mood, but RedSox got up and showered before I could ask. I was in pain.

So when I get back to Bangor, and my classmates and I bust open 4 bottles of wine, it's only obvious that sex will be a topic. We talked about waxing, shaving, lists, whatnot... but not blue-balling.

I would love to know. Did I blue-ball this morning?

If I did... it sucked!

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Xmas shopping is mostly done!

Thanks for all the gift suggestions! I found a great (hopefully) cheap present to give to ALL my cousins.

We're all going to go to the Christmas-themed Improv Asylum show. We'll get to enjoy some laughs. We'll get to hang out "together." I got the tickets half-price thanks to all the Boston social groups I belong to... totalling $70 for the six of us.

And most importantly, since I did say US, I get to enjoy the gift too.

Surprise, Surprise ;)

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Xmas Gifts

I love giving gifts. The problem is that I'm a student, don't exactly earn any income. Now I do have money in my savings, and I do get an allowance from my parents for food and stuff (which I have extorted, embezzled, inflated, etc).

Alas, this still doesn't allow me to buy people the gifts that I want to buy them... because if I had all the money in the world (or maybe $5000 more than I do now) I would be buying designer gifts. Wallets, wristlets, other small leather goods.

But I don't have that kind of cash. In addition, I'm buying gifts for people I don't know really well.

I love my family... but liking them and wanting to hang out with them is a whole other ballgame. Yet I still have to buy gifts for these people because (and only because) they will be buying gifts for me.

Now I'm easy. Put a bow on a bottle of booze and I'm happy.

Them... not so much. I've got one cousin who doesn't really drink. (God only knows how we share the same blood).

I've got a couple cousins who are a tad larger than the average bear, so cute clothes won't be so cute on them.

I've got a mom who bitches and moans that she doesn't need/want anything for christmas, then pouts and gets upset when she doesn't get anything.

I need ideas people. I need good gifts under $25. If that's even possible, hook me up!!

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How would you describe youself?

Anytime I've written or responded to a craigslist ad, I've always desribed myself as petite, fit, fun, cute and outgoing. It just rolls off my fingers as I type. Never would I have written aggressive (possibly sadistic), self-confident (borderline narcissistic), dramatic, and conscientious (a tad OCD).

Well those were the top 4 peaks on my personality self-portrait graph.

I went into work yesterday, and Dr. R said he felt bad that he hadn't taught us much. We went back to his office and he started blabbering away. He might have been trying to apologize for his passive-aggressive behavior through patient examples. This man may either be really clever or just not know when to shut up. (After today, I'm pretty sure it's the latter).

Anyways, in his dramatic speech about how he may be deemed passive-aggressive with us med students he side-tracked to talk about personalities and handed me a comprehensive personality test. I'm talking over 100 questions to be followed by calculations, plots and graphs.

It was my task to take this personality test, so I spent a good hour doing the thing. When finished I had no idea what the numbers or graph meant, but I did notice aggressive was a peak on the graph towering above all the rest.

I took my finished assignment back to Dr. R. He commented on the aggressive peak and said "yeah, I can see that."

What the hell does that mean? I'm not aggressive. At least I didn't think I was. So I took the book and read the chapter on aggressive.

Hmm wow, ok so umm... yeah, I guess I can be pretty aggressive. And geez yeah, people have said some of the exact words to me in the chapter, especially after a night of drinking.

Well the good thing about this book is that not only does it describe the various aspects of personalities, but it gives us 2 very important sections: How to deal with these people and exercises these people can do to tone things down.

In some ways I need to tone down the aggression, but in other ways I need to embrace it. Aggression is the reason I compete so well. Aggression is the reason I have CEO potential. Aggression is the reason I have succeeded in most of what I've done. Aggression is the reason some men can't get enough of me... sadism is the reason I keep these men around ;)

I'll do what I can to avoid the progression towards sadistic personality disorder, but for now I think I'll be myself.

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Surgery Flashback

"I told Dr.K I didn't want medical students, but he's making me take you guys." - Dr. R

That's how my classmate and I were greeted this morning as we started our first day of adolescent psychiatry. Not exactly welcoming, but I chose to ignore that statement. My last two weeks of psych have been awesome, and every psychiatrist I met has involved us med students.

Right after Dr. R said that to us, he went on to teach us quite a bit about adolescents. It didn't seem at all like he didn't want us there, so I actually felt quite comfortable when the time came to see patients.

Our first teenager had run away from home. Through her interview we learned a bit about past sexual and physical abuse, anger towards a parent, trouble with school... the typical profile for a teen psych patient.

When Dr. R finished, he asked the social worker if she had any more questions for the patient. She had a couple. Afterwards, she looked up towards my classmate and me. I wanted some more details on the patient's siblings and home life, so I went ahead and asked questions.

Through my questioning, we discovered some intense physical abuse toward the patient and her siblings. After I finished and the patient left, Dr. R turned towards me and my classmate (but more specifically me) and bitched us out.

"I ask a very specific set of questions. These are MY patients. I don't need a PCP running her mouth asking a whole bunch of questions. It reveals a whole bunch of problems that may need to be addressed, and I've already decided what I want to handle. Asking more questions adds MORE WORK that I DON'T want to do."

I felt like I was back on my surgery rotation. I was flabbergasted and immediately retreated... just like I did on surgery. My classmate, too, was in awe of what just happened. He shut up too.

But I don't regret what I did. The only extra "WORK" I added to his workload was a 2 second phone call to DHS to investigate the situation. How dare anyone complain about something as important as keeping a child safe?

I am beyond shocked at what happens to children that brings them into the psychiatry unit, so there is no way in hell I'm going to shut up when help is available.

Fuck You, Dr. R.

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Popularity interferes with masturbation

Having short days in the psych ward gives me plenty of free time after work to do absolutely nothing, except wish for my vibrator. The problem is up in Maine, we all live dormstyle. Small rooms, thin walls...

Having all this time and no vibrator has given me the opportunity to explore masturbation with the fingers only. I must say it is MUCH harder work. I actually feel sorry for guys.

Having always relied on the quick fix of my vibrator, I've never tried just fingers before. It's not so easy, and I am directing myself as to what feels good!

Today I wasn't successful, but I also didn't get enough time. My classmate decided to knock on my door and semi-barge in. I pulled out pretty quickly, still hovering under the covers. But damn that could have been mortifying.

Everyone is waiting for me to decide when to go drinking. Freakin retards!

Popularity is ruining my masturbation life.

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Swiped Out

Swipe instant messaged me out of the blue yesterday. I think the last
time I saw him was before I started medical school. He was one of my
random craigslist hook-ups in NYC.

He is a guy who loved to plan dates full of unique activities, a highly attractive quality since I am generally looking to do new and exciting things.

I met him New Years 2005 I believe. I decided to party it up in NYC with some college friends. I planned to stay a few days, so to not overwhelm my host I set up a few craigslist dates.

Swipe happened to graduate from our same college. I met him for dinner. He took me to an Italian place he had been dying to try. For dessert he took me to a cafe featured in some well-known movie.

He came on strongly. I usually get put off by that, but it was different. He is a man who goes after what he wants, yet only gives a taste. He kissed me but didn't push further. The confidence was striking... the patience was excruciating.

He called me the next day to invite me to a new years party. Though I had plans, I felt I could squeeze him in. I met him at his place. He wore a gorgeous maroon button down shirt under a suit. I had to have him, so while waiting I blurted out that I wanted to fuck.

He thought that was hot. We went at it. I kept my dress and boots on. He ripped off his shirt like superman. (I soon found out that he is a comic book geek.)

The party went smoothly, and we parted ways the next morning. We still kept in touch and I ended up visiting him again over the summer. Our days and nights were filled with fun activities. He told me how difficult it was to find that special someone in NYC, someone who enjoyed trying new things, someone who generally saw the bright side of life.

After another fun time together, we parted again. This time we didn't keep in touch too well. He was barely online. I started medical school. I'll never forget though... one time in the fall I did see him online and said hello. He immediately signed off and I never heard from him again.

To have a conversation last night after over 2 years felt unusual, but it went pretty well. It was mature. He told me he thinks of me fondly, and he went on and on about how much NYC women suck.

I replied that I don't think he's giving NYC women a chance... and I told him about RedSox.

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Suicidal... and Hot

On the way into the conference room to admit a new patient, he walked out. He was in scrubs and really hot. Since all rational thought goes out the window in my gaga state, I assumed he was a male nurse or an orthopedic surgeon.

He had that scruffy look going, appeared to be in shape. He had those nice, dark, brooding eyes. I didn't get a chance to look him over further, but I hoped to see him again.

A couple hours later, the attending called in his next patient. It happened to be the aforementioned hottie. It turns out he tried to kill himself last night. I missed the bandage around his wrist initially, instead focusing on his perfect hair. He decided he didn't want to be in the world anymore, and he was perfectly nonchalant about it.

Oddly enough, I found that incredibly sexy.

He said he almost jumped off the roof, but realized 3 stories was more likely to paralyze him. So he climbed back down.

How smart.

After he left, the attending turned to me and said the hottie was schizophrenic with comorbid alcoholism.

I love to drink too.

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Bang Whore

Bangor is pretty... pretty freakin boring. ok ok, I haven't given this "city" a chance yet, but I'm bored.

I didn't bring up a car like everyone else, but even then no one else is out exploring. I was told there's a mall down the road with a great GAP store. I had to restrain myself from shouting "Saks and boutiques only!"

The air is dry. Most of us have woken up stuffed up ever since we arrived.

But there are some cool things. My psych rotation is going to be crazy in a good way... with lots of crazies (and it's not cool for them). Apparently the methadone clinic here is one of the largest in the country.

My classmate actually knows someone here, and they happen to own a chinese restaurant. We happened to go there last night... and they put our entire meal on the house. We ordered the duck people. It's the most expensive item on the menu.

I guess I'll give Bangor a little bit of a shot, but I imagine I won't have much to write about over the next 6 weeks.

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When to let it rip?

A few months ago I had written about the need to release some tension, but I couldn't do it in front of RedSox. Heck I can't do it in front of family.

As someone in the medical field, I am perfectly fine with patients farting. In fact, it's one of the questions I often asked while doing my surgery rotation. Farting is good for you. It means your bowels are working, and there isn't any GI obstruction.

But it is still embarrassing as hell. So when, if ever, is it ok to fart in front of your significant other?

For me, the answer is never. For RedSox, the answer is now.

Last night while lounging on the couch watching House, RedSox let one rip. I really wanted to laugh, but I held back and just said, "well, I'm glad your bowels are in working order."

I think he took that as an ok to continue. Later that night, he decided to pee with the bathroom door open.

I guess I'm ok with it, for now. But I'm pretty sure I can not return the actions.

I'd love to hear from your experience. Should I be ok with it by now?

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A night in with the Sox

When Bobby Kielty hit his home run, I texted a bunch of people with the words "We Win."

No exclamation. Just a statement of fact.

Some thought I was jinxing the team. I'll be honest. I would have rather had the boys back home in Boston for the win, but I knew that wouldn't happen.

I knew we were going to win. The couple of runs scored by the Rockies gave me "hope" that Colorado could bring the series back to beantown, but I still knew we were going to win.

OleMiss actually knows Seth Smith from high school. I texted that he was hot. OleMiss replied, "and he is so going down."

Which he did. Then the screams echoed across Beacon Hill, along with horns blaring. All of Boston busted out of the bars to tear up the streets in celebration.

I thought about joining them, but I was all cozied up on the couch... enjoying the win on my night in with the Sox.

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Drunk Advice

I think people purposefully ask for dating advice when I'm drunk because I'm not going to think things through. I'm going to tell them what they want to hear.

Which most often is "Do EEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTT! Go for it!! He TOTALLY wants you! Fuck that other slut in his life!"

Last night Madge asked me if she should go for one of the residents on her surgery rotation. I told her "YES!! Do EEEEETTTTTT! You both rock climb. I hate rock climbing. You're MEANT for each other!!"

The reality is that she should probably feel things out a little more and try to get together after they're done with the rotation.

Later Ems bitched about a guy in our class that she has been wanting. I guess it turns out that he had been hooking up with another girl in our class that Ems hates. Things haven't been looking good, so I told her "Fuck HIM! Fuck that bitch in our class! You rock! Who do you want tonight? I'm going to get him for you!"

I never did get Ems a guy. I don't remember what I told Madge towards the end of the night. Hopefully things will work out for both of them.

In the meantime, I need an aspirin.

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Homework Assignments

Lately I have had the urge to date other men... meaningless, one-time dates. I miss them. But of course I'm still dating RedSox, a great and fabulous guy who is taking me to game 1 of the world series tonight.

But I digress. Monday I woke up and thought "I need to break up with RedSox." It was a sudden, intense feeling. I panicked.

I have a tendency to act without thinking things through, especially when angry. This time, I decided to figure out why I was thinking of breaking up with RedSox. I was hoping I could find some answers. Is it him? Is it me? Is it us...

RedSox is the greatest guy any woman could ask for. He takes care of me emotionally. He pretty much takes care of me financially. He is a leader in his career. He is admired and adored by many.

So what's the problem? Moreso, what's MY problem?

I want better sex. I want him to be the MAN and not always let me make the decisions. I want him to lose 30lbs.

Monday night I decided to tell RedSox how I've been feeling. I told him I was upset that he STILL hasn't read the Guide to Getting It On. I gave it to him almost a year ago. Months later, I HIGHLIGHTED the relevant chapters.

I have asked him to decide what we're doing for dinner or for our dates, yet the most he gives me is a narrowed down list where the final decision is mine.

I ask him all the time about the gym and tell him about ALL of my work-outs. He admitted to never wanting me to get fat, so why should he get to stay fat?

He didn't like hearing any of this. I didn't enjoy dishing it out. In 2 weeks, I'm leaving for a 6-week rotation in Maine. I asked him if during that time, he thinks he could read the couple of chapters, go to the gym more often and figure out how to make decisions outside of the office.

He said he would.

Then I asked him if there is anything I could work on for him.

He said No... I'm perfect.

Brilliant. I guess my self-assigned homework assignment while up in Maine is to figure out why I am such an asshole.

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12

That's the number of american league titles we hold. For some that's a lot. But after 100 years, I think it's pathetic.

Today I will not complain.

I most likely will be going to the World Series game on Wednesday. I will cheer my butt off against the Rockies (though secretly I am very impressed with them).

It's another great year for the Sox and Pats :)

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Who are we really?

I started my blog as a way to try and open up to people, to not be afraid to be myself. It's been very helpful. It's been eye-opening.

Who I am in person is not too different from who I am on my blog, but the people who see me in person do not always know the secrets that those who read my blog do.

It's scary at times just how much my writing reveals... fear, envy, lies... the Truth.

I've been playing around with craigslist again, just to see who is out there, to see what is available should I choose to act.

I read a M4W where the guy wanted to take a woman shopping, no strings. It was rather odd to me since most of those kinds of ads require some form of sexual compensation. I was curious, so I responded.

We chatted a bit, and he pretty much revealed his extreme lack of self-confidence, of social skills, of self-respect. I felt sorry for him and decided there was no way I would ever meet up with this guy, but I couldn't help but ask about his past experiences taking women shopping.

He told me about licking a woman's feet, about eating another's feces (YUCK). I told him all I would want is to go shopping, and he told me he had taken one other girl shopping who ONLY wanted to go shopping.

He told me her name was Lin and she hailed from Chicago. Funny, I know a Lin from Chicago.

He described her beautiful blue eyes and that he wanted to hang out with her again, but she refuses. Then he says "OMG, you're friends with her."

I was shocked. I had sent him my myspace page, forgetting Lin had added me as a friend. She and I are not really friends. Actually she is one of RedSox's friends.

I had no idea that she and I were so similar... despite being so different.

I ended my conversation with the guy shortly afterwards, somewhat ashamed of the box I had just opened.

But the truth is the truth. It reveals very much. I knew I was no where near being the poster child for all that is good, but what I now know is neither is Lin.

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No denying the Predator

I cannot tell you how horny I was today. I had a certain blond man in my mind, and he wasn't RedSox. He's IrishRacer... blond, HOT, blond, Fresh-off-the-boat Irish, blond!

He messaged me through Myspace last week, and I've been coyly exchanging emails with him since. Short one-liners haven't led to anything, but today I couldn't stop fantasizing about him. I'm not sure what it means, but I want to find out.

I'm torn, though. I care about RedSox. He is probably the best guy I have ever dated. He might be that one last great guy who exists in my generation.

But I'm a predator. I don't fit the mold of a typical woman, yet I don't have a penis. I have a lot of power, and I love it. I want to use it. I want to make the most of it.

IrishRacer described his first date with me. I replied asking when this would be...

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Awkward Run-Ins

I have a tendency to delete people from my life once they've proven to be a waste of a human being. In doing so, it's almost like they no longer exist.

Of course in the back of my mind I know they are alive and probably doing well and living their lives somewhere. I pray to God that I never have to cross paths again, because there is nothing that raises my level of anxiety more than running into someone from the past who has "wronged" me in some way.

When it happens, all the emotion comes flooding back into my mind. I can only feel hatred towards them. I can only feel hate, and it is the worst feeling in the world.

Yesterday when I had my practice day with standardized patients, I was already feeling quite anxious. I hate doing fake patient interviews and physical exams while being evaluated. There is just too much pressure not to screw up and forget to ask certain questions or perform particular tasks.

I got my scenario and in walked my fake patient with his fake mother... the mother being a woman from my past who I "hate." I did the best that I could, pretending like I never knew her... acting. She was, after all, supposed to be treated like a real patient's mother.

This woman was one of my small group instructors last year. The meetings were mandatory, and we met at 4pm every week. There were a few times we tried to meet at 1pm, but it never happened.

There was one day where I was all set for my 4pm meeting. I had an appointment at 1:30pm. I figured I'd go and come back in time. After our last class ended at 12:15pm, I checked my email and saw a string of emails between this woman and the director of the course trying to schedule our meeting time for 1pm.

I emailed her telling her I had an appt at 1:30pm. If it turned out we were meeting at 4pm, I would be there. If not, I would forward my research along to a classmate.

The group ended up meeting at 1pm. My classmate presented my research for me.

The next day I get an email from the office of education saying that this woman had reported me for missing the meeting. It turned into a dramatic affair. My ethics and my commitment to education were questioned. My honor and maturity were shamed. I had to have a meeting with the dean.

It was an awful experience and I was incredibly angry. I couldn't see how it was my fault for other people changing meeting times at the last second. I was angry at this woman. She received my email saying I couldn't make it. My classmates informed her of my 1:30pm appointment that I couldn't (ok wouldn't) re-schedule. She never replied or acknowledged any of my efforts to rectify the situation.

She reported me, and put my integrity into question.

After my encounter with her yesterday, the feedback I received was excellent. I forgot to ask a couple of key questions, but overall everyone praised my history and physical exam skills. I curtly thanked her, then diverted my eye-contact. She no longer existed (once again).

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Allergic to Me

Do you remember that episode of Saved by the Bell where Lisa was allergic to Screech? I never really thought about it... People being allergic to other people.

But it turns out it is possible because OleMiss is allergic to me. It's been almost 2 years since we slept together. Back then every time I arrived back home in Boston, I'd get a text or an email saying that his eyes are itchy.

That's it! Just the eyes. Nothing else ever.

In the past two years I have bought more clothes, changed hair products, perfumes, lotions, detergents, got a couple cats, got rid of the couple cats, etc.

I had completely forgotten, and no one else has ever been allergic to me.

Today I get an instant message from OleMiss. I figured it would be a quick hello, but it turns out it was a playfully angry message about his eyes being itchy.

We tried to go through all the possible reasons, but there is no doubting that he is allergic to me. I felt bad because I'm in a profession that helps heal people, not make them sick.

His reply: "it only lasts a couple of days. its worth it."

I concur :)

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Time to Live

His 6th birthday is coming up in November, but we're pretty sure he won't live to celebrate. He is lying in his hospital crib, hasn't been able to grow like a normal kid. He is pale with a temperature close to 104F. His heart is beating incredibly fast, but his blood pressure is really low.

And yet there are no tears, no complaints. He's got his arms tucked up behind his neck as if chillin on the beach. He has grown accustomed to the pain. It doesn't matter anymore.

His mom just talked to the social worker about bringing him home, letting him die in peace. We're all surrounding the crib, ordering drugs left and right... hoping the fever will break and his vitals will return to the normal range.

I know this happens in the hospital, but I hoped to never witness it. I wanted to be on the team that sends the kid home smiling, telling him/her not to come back.

Today I can't do that. Today I am reminded why I go through hell... it's not about me after all. It's about you. I go through hell with hopes that you can enjoy the Earth a little bit longer and make heaven wait.

Goodbye Kiddo. You won't suffer anymore. God's got you now. Go play and truly live.

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Not Guilty

approximately 3 weeks ago...

Me: I want to leave Boston and do my residency in NYC. I love it there.

Mom: What about RedSox? (said with the vision of grandkids fading)

Me: I'm pretty sure he'll stay in Boston.

Mom: (after a few seconds) Is OleMiss still in NYC?

Actually yes, OleMiss still is in NYC and he finally broke up with his girlfriend. She was a very sweet girl. I liked her a lot, but she is 33 and wants to get married and have kids. He is 26 and doesn't. As much as it hurt, he did the right thing.

I went down to NYC over the weekend to attend the wedding of a college friend. I told OleMiss I was coming down and that we should hang out. I arrived at 11pm on Friday, dropped my stuff off at Sam's place and off we went to grab drinks.

We're at Thor, enjoying our wine and people-watching when Sam sees OleMiss and exclaims "WOW he's fat!" Sure OleMiss had packed on a few pounds, but he looked more like a linebacker. We all started catching up and the sexual tension grew.

Sam felt tired and went home. OleMiss, his buddy and I continued to imbibe plenty of liquid, making out way towards Murray Hill. We closed down a pub, left the buddy and went back to his place to watch a movie.

About 15 minutes into the movie, OleMiss pulled me on top of him and kissed me. I kissed him back. The kissing became harder, more passionate. Clothes came off and he picked me up and took me to bed.

In the year that I've been dating RedSox, I haven't felt that kind of passion. It was intense. It was incredible. It was me...

I didn't feel guilty. Even now that I'm back in Boston, I don't feel guilty.

I care about RedSox, but he still hasn't given me what I want. I gave him the Guide to Getting It On. It continues to collect dust no matter how many times I point it out. He won't go down on me. He won't even straight-up fuck me.

I'm not one of those girls who drops hints. Men do not understand hints. They need to be directly told what to do. I directly tell RedSox what to do and he still won't do it. I told him it would only be a matter of time before I won't take it anymore. When I stop asking him, he should worry.

I think I'm done asking.

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Temporary Solution

So after a lack of sleep and tons of anxiety, I sent my parents and sister an email:

Mom and Dad,

I do not understand why you must continue to stress me out, but you do. I hate medical school. I have not found anything in medicine I like. I have lost friends because of medical school. I am ONLY in medical school because you two won't shut up if I don't do what you say. I did not get a good score on the boards. I barely passed surgery.

Last week I thought I was going to keep the apartment to myself, but you stressed me out with the roomate situation. I stopped studying until I found one. Now you are stressing me out with rent, and I will not be able to study knowing that this is looming over my head. The landlord doesn't call you. He calls me and takes up my time and my energy and my life.

I am at my breaking point. If you continue to stress me out, I will have to go to the deans and tell them I need to take time off from medical school and possibly quit all-together. I am doing what you want. I don't want to do anything.

Sister called me the second she read the email to say that it was strong but good. Mom called me in the evening out of ear shot from dad telling me that I can't change people. He is the way he is. Just explain things to him and he will back off. She also tried to go on some tangent that would make the situation about her, but I cut her off.

Finally dad called. He played the Idiot card. Rather than call him out, I just called him an idiot. He is sending the other portion of the rent tomorrow.

Problem solved... for now.

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Last night's post

I wrote last night's post in anger. I should probably write a little bit more before everyone jumps on the bandwagon of me quitting medical school because you all only know what I write. Most don't know what it is like to be indian-american. My career is actually the least of the problem.

My rent is $1300. My share with the ex-roomate was $550. My father sent me an email yesterday saying that he only paid the usual $550 for October. "Relax. Wait to see if the landlord says anything. Then we will address it." I was fuming!

To me this is the equivalent of stealing. I called my mom very upset because I have a great relationship with my landlord. He has always been very fare and kind and this could ruin everything.

It set me off because I spend a lot of time SAVING my parents money. I work for a gym so I get membership for free. I go to free parties so I don't spend their money. I date rich men so my parents don't have to pay for my expensive meals.

I have talked to Sister about how much of a hard time I have in medicine. She struggled even more than I did. She failed the boards... TWICE. She had to take an extra year to finish up her program. She didn't match into a residency program. She had hard times in the residency she scrambled to get.

She went through a lot more pressure and bull-shit from my parents and medical staff than I do... but she did it anyways and LOVES her job.

Sister told me that as much as this struggle sucks, it is really worth it in the end. I will find my niche. Every doctor says the same thing. Medical school and residency suck. They're like 7-10years of pledging a fraternity. You go through hell, but the brotherhood is worth it.

The true fear I have is not that I will be a bad doctor or that medicine isn't for me. The honest concern is that I will become my parents... I will do anything to avoid that.

So I will talk to my parents today to see what will be done about the rent. If dad decides not to pay it, then he's an idiot for providing a joint-account and I'll just cut a check from that.

I sent an email to the Chief of Genetics to talk to her and see what I can do, and pending her response I'll talk to the deans and consider taking a year off.

I don't know if what I'm doing is the right thing, but I lost my way a long time ago and it will be tough to find it again.

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Dependent and Depressed

I love money. I love my parents money. I know they have a lot of it, and I want it. Unfortunately, my obsession with their money has caused me to lead the worst life.

Simply. I hate my life.

In order to get my parents money, I have to do what they want. It sucks. I know it sucks. And yet I still do it. I have fooled myself into believing that I gain some control when I do.

I don't. What I gain are short-term, ultimately-unsatisfying superficial things: clothes, accessories, restaurant meals.

It's starting to really crash all around me. I'm not doing well in school because as much as I love working with people, I am not passionate about medicine. I keep hoping to find my niche, to find that field that is right for me, and I keep praying to God that genetics is my niche. If it isn't, I am screwed.

But I feel like everyone of my other classmates cares about ALL of medicine and I should too. The lack of passion shows in my exam scores, in the pimping done by attendings, maybe even in my clerkship. I'll find out when I get my final surgery grade and my mid-clerkship pediatrics evaluation.

The problem is that I am dependent on my parents. I never get their money unless I do what they want... and really I never get their approval and support unless I do what they want. In fact, I am so afraid I won't get their love unless I do what they want.

And that kills me. I don't know what I want and I don't have the courage to figure it out. For to figure it out means I risk their approval, their support and possible their love.

And so I go along with life making sure I get all of that... and that is all I know how to do.

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A Fresh Start

I found myself rather bored this week. Pediatrics is the opposite spectrum from surgery. There is very little to do, and when I try to go see my patient in my spare time he/she is usually up in the playroom.

I come home much earlier than I'm used to. The sun is still out.

I knew this would happen, and I looked forward to this day. Yet, now that today is here I feel pretty sad.

When the boards and surgery were finally behind me, I had thought I would be hanging out with ex-roomate again. I thought we would do our Sunday Desperate Housewives nights and Wednesday Top Model nights. I figured we would have the latest season of Lost on dvd and spend the weekend in. I was hoping that things would get back on track now that I would have the time and energy and she was back in the apartment for good with the start of the new school year.

Instead, my apartment is relatively empty. No TV, no toaster, barely any food in the fridge, a large empty bedroom that needs a new occupant...

I was talking to Ruby about it because she too had a bad break-up with a friend a couple years back, and she made a good point. We'll always miss the good times, but the rough times were never worth it. I didn't have much of a rough time with ex-roomate until the end, but I do realize that a friendship with her ultimately isn't worth it.

When I got home after shopping with Ruby and Gorilla today, I started making some changes. I pulled out all the artwork I had accumulated over the years to decorate the apartment how I'd like to see it. I threw a slipcover over the loveseat to hide the damage caused by my ex-cats. I rearranged the furniture.

I have started putting things together for me, for my life. It's time for a fresh start.

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Fight the Beast

You know your parents really miss buying alcohol for your parties when they have three 30-racks of Milwaukees Best for leisurely consumption.

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Talking about the past

I've been reading quite a bit on the blog world about discussing each other's past with your significant other. I understand the importance of getting to know people. God knows I am a curious little monkey... and that unfortunately has caused a lot of trouble in the occasional relationship. As a result, I have a couple unacceptable topics for my relationships.

I don't want to hear about abuse that was done to you or that you caused. It turns me into a protective mother or a frightened kitten. Our relationship is doomed.

I don't want to know how many partners you've had. Mainly, I don't want to tell you how many I've had. I'm well beyond the number of distal appendages and I know your ego probably can't handle that.

I don't want to hear about ANY of your exes. As far as I'm concerned, I'm the first person you've dated. I apologize to ALL the men I've talked to about exes... truth is I did it because I a. wanted to make you jealous or b. wanted you to break up with me.

There is plenty more, I'm sure. At the moment this is luckily all I have had to deal with.

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In defense of Beer

There is no doubt how much I love wine. When I was 15, one of my mom's co-workers gave me a glass of cabernet at Thanksgiving dinner. He and his wife were raving about how amazing it tasted, how well it had developed over the years, how beautifully it had opened up after atmospheric exposure. I was super excited, so I took a sip... and I wanted to die.

The stuff was gross. What were these people raving about?

I drank my glass because I didn't want to be rude... but I knew something was up. I knew I was missing out. What was it about this glass of cabernet that made it special, and why was I unable to taste it?

And thus began my journey towards becoming a oenophile.

10 years later, I would hardly call myself a connoisseur... but I know what suits my palate. I know what I want to order at a nice restaurant. I know what to get for others.

My mom tells me that the same co-worker is having a party today, and she needs me to pick out a great bottle of wine to bring. We just happened to be at the supermarket in New Hampshire, and they sell liquor. I am not pleased with the selection and refuse to pick a bottle from the supermarket. Then something glistening with a tint of orange catches my eye.

It is none other than Sam Adams Oktoberfest. I live for that beer. It was one of the first beers that got me interested in beer. It's only around for a short time, and it the one beverage that gets me to put the corkscrew away.

I tell my mom that we should buy oktoberfest for the party. She puts up a fight. "But you LOVE wine and my co-worker LOVES wine. You both LOVE wine. Why would you not buy wine?"

The answer is pretty simple. True wine lovers, True beer lovers, True any kind of alcohol lovers know how to appreciate all alcohol. Sam Adams Oktoberfest is one of the best brews of the season, and everyone should try it.

Besides... my mom's co-worker is guaranteed to bust out some $50-100 bottles of wine on his own... and I'm sure he and I will be the only one's who can fully appreciate it all.

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Gone for Good

When I came home and my key didn't work I remembered that the locks were getting changed, so I ran downstairs and looked in the common closet for keys. None were there. I almost freaked out, but then I just tried to open my door and it was unlocked. There was a set of keys on the stove, and the smell of fresh paint was overwhelming enough to get me high realquick.

I peeked into ex-roomate's room, unlocked and wide open, and saw painted walls, a vacuumed floor and nothing but emptiness. I didn't know if she had actually taken all her stuff or if the carpenter had thrown out whatever was left in the room.

So I gave him a call. I thanked him for changing the locks and I asked if the room was empty or if he had thrown stuff out. (Even though we're not friends anymore, I would never throw out someone else's stuff). He told me the room was empty.

PERFECT!

I took the new keys and tried them on the lock... the lock didn't turn. I tried my old keys. Nope. I tried the keys to the common front door. Nope.

I called the carpenter back to let him know that the keys don't work, and while some may think I'm paranoid (actually i'm a little drunk) I just don't want her to ever come back. I don't even want her mule of a boyfriend coming by to transport her stuff out for her.

I don't want to know that ex-roomate ever existed.

I could manage to leave my doors unlocked for a bit. As stupid as it may be, I do actually feel safe in my neighborhood... but again I don't want her coming into into my apartment. Ever.

And now that the carpenter is heading back to my place to get me the correct keys, I won't ever have to worry about her again. Ex-roomate, ex-friend, non-existent... Gone For GOOD! All I retain and hold onto is more education on what a good friend embodies.

Let's just hope I get her half of electricity for August!

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Scalpel? No thanks

Chief Resident: "Med students! Have I convinced any of you to go into surgery?"

Med students: (grumble) "eh I dunno" "I'm undecided"

Chief Resident: "What is up with you med students? Every time I ask if you want to go into surgery, you give me the ho-hum undecided bit... except for Roxy. When I ask Roxy if she wants to be a surgeon, she says NO."

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Overheard on Craigslist 9/16

I'm think I might start a new series of posts where I pick out of the funny lines I read on craigslist and just comment on them. I'd also love to hear what you all think of what these men looking for women were thinking when they put together a sentence.

I'm not gay. I just like Rainbows DAMMIT!
but... isn't it kinda gay to like rainbows? I mean it makes sense if you're in pre-school, but by your 20s (or teens) I would have hoped you picked a color to focus on.

May God strike me down and fart on my face.
I'm pretty sure God doesn't have any bowel movements or abdominal sounds. If he decides to fart on your face, I hope you're ready... it's going to be much stronger than solar wind.

I work crazy hours and see even crazier things so I want a girl who can just be someone to talk to.
So let me get this straight. You're hardly ever going to see me but when you do, it will be like an episode of the sopranos? Listen, we all need therapy. If you've got a decent insurance plan, you're covered. You probably will spend even less money on therapy than you would trying to impress a chick.

Not looking for anything too serious but not gonna hit and quit either.
Why not? Craigslist is the place to be to hit and quit. That's how I got to try so many restaurants on someone else's dime AND get laid. I love being a predator.

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Bloody Horny

Why am I extra-freakin horny when I have my period?

I don't get it. Evolutionarily speaking, females should be extremely horny during ovulation because that is PRIME time to get pregnant... reproduce, continue life, all that crap.

So why is it that some of us get that way when there is little to no chance of getting knocked up?

Alice at Columbia U. has some theories. "Some women feel increased sexual energy during their period. The possibility of pregnancy is reduced (but not eliminated) during menstruation, and this may free women to feel more sexual during this time. Also, there is more pelvic congestion during a woman's periods, so she is already experiencing this heaviness, which may trigger or translate to arousal. Furthermore, because of the menses, there is additional lubrication, making penetration more comfortable. Finally, orgasm is a known reliever of pelvic congestion and cramps."

Well let's compare these theories to what happens to me. I don't really get cramps. I rarely feel heavy or bloated. In fact, most women are jealous of my periods: 2 days, light flow, no issues.

I guess it's the freedom to f*ck and not pop out little Roxy's that gets me going.

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A Good Problem

I'd say I'm a pretty social and outgoing person. I love meeting new people, and I love crowds. But I definitely have moments when I just want to be left alone... basically anytime I'm sober.

You see I have a problem... a good problem actually considering I'm going to become a doctor.

Today I had to go to the breast clinic to, get this, do breast exams. I am supposed to learn how to properly interact with a patient and properly perform a complete breast exam.

This morning I performed 4 breast exams, and for the other 4 hours I listened to the surgeon I was following talk... and talk... and talk about herself, her issues, her life... her.

I admit I felt a bit uncomfortable, wondering why an attending was divulging all this information to me, a lowly med student. But while this doesn't happen to me often, it is not uncommon for strangers to just start talking to me. Oddly enough, it happens the most when I'm wearing any of my Tufts U. gear.

So I listened, because I actually do pay attention to people. I looked her straight in the eye as she vented so she knew I cared. And I communicated with her silently, letting her know that what she says will remain confidential.

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I can't screw over myself as a roomate

I've decided that I will most likely never go for a roomate situation ever again. In college, everything was fine and dandy. No fights, no worries.

But the second I moved to Boston and started living with strangers, I realized that having roomates can really suck. My first roomate was a great guy. We didn't have to hang out, but we had decent conversation and got along really well. I wasn't happy when he moved out, but I knew we weren't going to keep in touch.

My second roomate should have been my last roomate ever. She was very sweet, seemed to have her act together, rarely was around. Everything was peachy until the landlord called to say she hadn't paid rent in 2 months. I confronted her calmly, and she acted totally shocked and promised to send a check right away. When the landlord called to say the check bounced, I was worried.

Both of our names were on the lease and that meant BOTH of us were responsible for the rent. She moved out, promising to pay... she didn't. I actually had the balls to call her parents in Florida. The mother was flabbergasted, but of course nothing came of my futile attempt. My landlord is a really great and reasonable guy, so he cut the 3 months of rent owed down to $1200. Unfortunately, that came out of my pocket.

The New Yorker was my third roomate and another great guy. We got along, but never hung out and I was ok with that. I really hate his cat. When he left, I knew we'd probably only see each other in passing... and I was so thankful that cat was GONE.

When I met ex-roomate, I actually didn't like her right off the bat. She was really sweet, but I knew she was immature. I asked her to move in because I didn't want to judge her too quickly. She did a great job at getting me to like her, but little did I know she would turn out to be such a fake.

.........

I decided to switch the lock change to the end of next week. I really need to focus on ending surgery with a bang, and the last thing I want is more drama from her. She's refusing to pay her half of electricity until she sees the bill, which I already threw out. I knew she owed close to $30, so I made up a number.

My mistake when I immediately realized she would probably called NSTAR. Sure enough, the number I gave didn't match what NSTAR had for August, and if I expect her to pay I must call NSTAR to get a new bill for her to see.

F that. $30 isn't worth the hassle. I'm pissed at myself for making up a number, but I realize that the sooner ex-roomate is completely out of my apartment, the sooner I can put her into the "Does Not Exist" category of my past.

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An impossible conversation

I'm pretty quick to get over things. Dealing with what happened with ex-Roomate was like getting over a bad break-up. One week later, and I'm totally fine. I've moved on, and I just want to get my life back up and running.

I received the August electricity bill, so I sent ex-Roomate an email telling her what her half is. I don't care if she pays or not, but I still figured I'd try. I also told her that the landlord would like to paint her room in the next couple of weeks. I noticed she had left her room wide open since she was last here and I wanted to know if she planned to leave it open for the landlord.

I received no reply.

Instead I come home after a day of studying and see that the door to her room is now shut... and locked.

No communication whatsoever... just complete and immature action.

So I called the landlord. I asked him if he could change the locks this week instead of at the end of the month. His reply, "Sure I'd be happy to do that. Oh and doesn't your roomate have a lock on her door? Yeah... I'll get rid of that for you too. That's just stupid."

I guess we'll wait and see what happens, because I'm certainly done trying to communicate with an ingrate.

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Loosen up my buttons... uh huh

As the self-appointed queen of bargains, I'm still a snob about my clothes. At least I don't buy fakes...

A local boutique had their super sale, and I went immediately after work. I probably tried on 50 outfits, but I settled on three very select items totalling to almost 75% off. One item is this gorgeous summer/fall coat by Milly... originally $400.

We had a cool day in Boston and I had the opportunity to sport my new coat. At the end of the day I realized that one of the buttons was missing. Normally this wouldn't bother me, but as you all know I haven't had the best couple of weeks.

I went to Milly's website, emailed the two contact names I found and went off on them about my expectations on quality. It was completely immature and unnecessary, but I did it and can't take it back.

And to my surprise, one of them responded. She apologized for the inconvenience and put a replacement button in the mail for me.

I am very impressed with the prompt reply and action... but she sent me the wrong button.

I'm hoping the coat will look just fine without the last button. At this point I just don't have the energy to care anymore.

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We're not surprised

I spoke to quite a few people about what happened with ex-Roomate, and everyone who had met her said the same thing "what happened doesn't surprise me."

I don't get it. What did I miss?

She and I became fast friends. We had a lot of fun together. I was absorbing a lot of the good from her. She helped me admit my feelings to OleMiss. She supported my decision to try therapy. She made the best bundt cake!

Dweeb, my cousin, had to spell it out for me. She is a yes-man. She does whatever it takes to make you like her. She claims to be very open and honest, but the reality is that she will never admit her true feelings. She will tell her therapist and everyone else, but not the person with whom she has a problem.

I fell for it. Rather, I did what I always do... only see the good.

I guess I shouldn't be surprised this happened either.

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The Bitchiest Thing I have ever Done

happened Tuesday, and you all know about it.

I told Roomate that her move upset me. I told that I couldn't believe she never talked to me. I asked her for an apology.

She refused, and I went off.

After I yelled at Roomate and threw a $750 check in her face to get her out by Saturday, I immediately regretted it. I regretted yelling at her because I'm not that type of person, so I went back into her room and apologized. I told her that I felt hurt. I told her that I didn't want her to move out. All I got in response was "ok." I told her she didn't have to be out by Saturday and she could take her time moving.

I also said she could still cash that check if she wanted because I just don't care anymore.

IDIOT!!

Still heated and distraught and stressed and upset, I took action and cancelled the check.

The next day I called the bank and they told me that it takes 24 hours for a stop payment to happen, so if she cashes the check it will go through. At that point I figured if she cashes the check, I deserve it.

Lucky for me, she didn't try to cash the check until yesterday.

After a very busy day in the OR, I checked my messages. Roomate had called to say that she tried to cash the check but the bank said there was a stop-payment. Whether it is a mistake or not, she'd like me to write her a new one.

The guilt fell on me immediately. I knew that even though I told her she could take her time, she absolutely wanted to be completely moved out by the end of the day on saturday. I knew that I should have told her I put a stop payment on the check.

But that's not why I felt guilty. What made me feel the worst was the fact that despite the complete bitchiness of my move, I just don't care. I am so numb to the whole situation. My feelings had been disregarded, and my anger got the best of me. I made a dick move and I don't feel bad about it.

Roomate confronted me when I walked in the door. I told her I changed my mind and she can take her time moving out. She pretty much had a heart attack. She told me that my behavior was appalling. She is going to put a lock on her door and let the landlord know.

I told her "ok"

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The Trouble with Twins

I am a Gemini... a classic, straight-up, word for word in the horoscope Gemini. For the most part I love it, but there are always times when the twins just need to shut the f*ck up.

As you all know I have been extremely upset about my roomate situation. I was hurt and angry. I felt abandoned. I didn't understand. What went wrong?

I kept going from one extreme to the next. It's her fault. It's my fault. No way, it's her fault. Ultimately I acted on one extreme. The extreme being it's her fault. I wanted her out by the end of the day on Saturday. GONE.

She paid for September out of selfish reasons. The evil twin was 100% sure.

I hashed it out with Roomate this evening, and she is convinced she paid for September to give me time to find a roomate and reduce my stress.

Oops... says the good twin.

In the heat of my anger, the evil twin cut her a $750 check to make sure she is out by Saturday. In the despair of the aftermath, the good twin wanted to apologize.

I listened to both arguments and I came to the conclusion that what's done is done. She is moving out. I am being childish.

I apologized and told her that she could take her time.

The evil twin called me a pussy... and the evil twin is correct.

"I may be a pussy, but I am not a complete idiot", says the good twin.

I apologized AND I cancelled the check.

Both twins are happy again.

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Question

If you're roomate gives you 2 weeks notice that she is moving out September 1st but says "don't worry, I will pay for september," doesn't that mean she is paying because it is kind and the right thing to do?

I told Roomate on Sunday that I wanted to iron out some details of her move. She avoided me Sunday and Monday, so I wrote her an email asking that she leave her keys under the door when she is finished on Saturday. I also told her that her friend taking the bureau should take it by the end of the day saturday.

I get a livid phone message saying that she has the right to take her time moving out all september long because she is paying for the room. Now I can understand that point of view, but why should I assume that?

So basically I wrote a long-winded email relaying ALL of my feelings. I told her I am very uncomfortable with people coming in and out of the apartment when I am not there. I told that I asked to speak with her in person so we wouldn't have to deal with all of this by email. I told her exactly what I have been telling her all along. COMMUNICATE!

I don't understand why I am the only person asking to talk or making attempts to figure things out. I called her selfish. I called her a liar. I called her out on her "kindness."

She said that if I expect her to be gone by the end of the day on Saturday then I should give her the $750 rent that she paid. I am strongly considering it. It would be undeniably cruel, but it would guarantee my safety and MY place for september.

Thoughts?

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The Ever-Burning Torch

My summer after graduating college was coming to an end. I had just moved into my apartment in Beacon Hill, and I was ready to truly experience downtown Boston. I went out with my boys, but the cock-blocking was beyond manageable.


I needed girl-friends and I needed them fast!

I put up a post on craigslist looking for some Sex & the City friends, which gave me 30 responses. Some were out of the age range, others had far too different (ie: boring) interests and a few actually wanted to date me.

Several meet-ups ended a friendship before it could begin. I just couldn't find someone who fit in my niche... that is... until I made plans to meet up with a couple of girls at TGI Fridays.

That is where we lit the flame.

Torch and Ruby were pretty new to Boston. They had graduated the same year as me. They were working and looking to get to know the city. I was working and knew the city pretty well. We clicked and off we ran.

Dates, drinks, dancing and devilish behavior ensued... it was nothing but a blast.

4 years later it still is a blast, and Torch is still running... now to another city.
She is another one of the girlz who has made the decision to leave Boston. She and A-train are off to Seattle. A new job, a new start, another chapter in her journey.

I'll miss her, just as I miss all the other girlz who have left... but I'm sure I'll see those flames again.

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I can't fix it if I don't know it is broken

Roomate and I are officially ex-friends. She informed me by email today. She didn't want to say anything, but I pushed it so she told me her true feelings. She starts out by saying she has tried not to say anything but now she feels she has to.

Well that's a good start...

Bullet Points:
- I bailed on her as a friend when I started dating RedSox
- When I ask her to hang out, it's almost always when she is going to be away
- I invite her to RSVPed events last minute, making her feel like a last resort
- I am so consumed with my own world and everything happening with RedSox
- I only contact her when I want something

Some of the stuff is true. I bailed on her a few times to hang out with RedSox. I apologized and made alternate plans. She never said anything, so I thought my apology was accepted.

When I ask her to hang out, it's because I'm making an effort. I don't really know what to say, but she never said anything... so I had no idea.

I definitely have invited her to promo events last minute after having already RSVPed. I RSVP to everything whether I'm going or not. ALL of my friends know I like to be on the list just in case... and because it's just smart. I invite last minute, because I decide last minute. She never said anything, so it was news to me that she felt like a last call.

I admit to having tunnel-vision. I get consumed with one major life-altering moment at a time, be it medical school, the boards, surgery, etc. RedSox is incredibly patient and a HUGE help... the same way Roomate's boyfriend put up with her law school drama. She blew off ALL her friends and NEVER went out to social events, rarely called people back. I think we're both consumed with our own worlds, which is probably why we got along.

I do NOT only contact Roomate when I want something, unless you count me wanting to know how her first day at her internship went or how her trip to sweden was or how she is doing. Maybe she missed my instant messages wishing her well or my emails asking how things are going.

I guess it's a lesson to me and all of you who read this. If you truly care about your friend, you will tell them how you feel before it is too late. You will not let things build up. You will not let things "get out of hand and try not to say anything"... as she wrote in her email.

I told Roomate I had no idea things had elevated to the extent she conveyed in her email. I told her I wish she had told me, because then I could have worked on things and corrected them sooner.

I can't believe I sat her down last Saturday to talk and she didn't bring this stuff up. I made an effort. Unfortunately it was too late and what has broken will stay broken.

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Placate and Reciprocate, don't Berate

Just when I thought things were on the up, I had to go ahead and get slapped in the face again.

Yesterday my presentation went well. A few surgeons complimented me, and I was feeling good. My classmates and I divided up the mandatory cases and off we went. I had a couple hours before my case, so I took the time to study and "intelligently" prep for the case. You'll get the quotations in a second.

On the way down to the OR, I get a page telling me that one of the chief residents is extremely angry with me for not going to cases in the morning. I can't help but think, What the F? No other OR case was mandatory.

This chief is a total Jekyll and Hyde with us. Our first day he told us to make the most of our time, to learn and get involved in a way that works best for us. I personally told him last week that the OR doesn't work for me, and he told me that I need to find a more intelligent way to prep and get involved when I do go to the OR.

THAT IS WHAT I WAS DOING! I read up on recent studies so that I could ask the surgeon about them. IT WORKED! I had a great conversation and better learning experience during my case.

When I run into the chief later, he tells me that the OR is our #1 priority and we should be there ALL the time. So much for learning the way that works the best for me.

I'm feeling frustrated, but I guess this is the life of a third year med student and I just need to shut up and take it.

Now, while all this is going on, something else is brewing with Roomate.

My memory is shot. My priority is making sure I remember what to do at the hospital and what I have to study. So when I emailed Roomate asking her if she wanted to try a double-date or have a fondue-night this weekend, I'm expecting nothing but a positive response to my attempt at mending our friendship.

Instead I get a curt response saying, "You know I'm gone this weekend right?"

I immediately replied saying, "wow... sorry.. i need to get my head on straight.
Yes you are gone thursday evening until monday/tuesday. I apologize."

Her reply, "No, I think I have told you several times, but I get back Sunday."

Some of you might be reading this as completely harmless emailing, but I felt a very cold and rude vibe from her replies.

I emailed her back.

I told her that it was a momentary memore lapse and I just ran with my excitement about hanging out. I told her about getting berated at the hospital. I told her that I am stressed beyond belief. I told her I would appreciate a little more sensitivity towards my feelings.

I don't know what to say right now. I'm not even sure how I feel. I approached her on Saturday night about moving out and our friendship. I thought everything was cool. I made the attempt to make plans to hang out. I don't like to complain, but I feel like I am doing all the work to mend our relationship.

Honestly, I don't think she wants to be my friend. It's pretty sad and disheartening... and now I'm off to the OR with another red cheek.

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Phew!

Plenty has been resolved since the chaos of yesterday morning. My sister called and told me exactly how to do my presentation. A friend of mine who had done a similar presentation sent me his to check out. Phew!

Roomate and I had a good and long discussion last night. I initiated it because I would hate to let a great friendship of 2 years end without really knowing why. I told her what bothered me and she told me what bothered her. We both recognized our shortcomings and apologized. Now things are great and back to normal. Phew!

As for the search for a new roomate. I've decided that I don't want one. (This of course could change once Roomate leaves). For now, though, I think a good step in the direction of taking care of myself is to make sure I can actually take care of my living space. For far too long I have relied on roomates to pick up my slack, and I shouldn't do that anymore.

Let's see how this goes...

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Does my face say "slap me"?

This week ended with a hellish bang. Yesterday I was slapped with a presentation to do at grand rounds on Wednesday (a big deal that includes ALL attendings, residents, etc). I freaked out because I've never done this before, but I know it will be good practice for my oral presentation at the end of surgery... a day I wish was yesterday.

To cool off I went to the sox game with a couple of colleagues, Torch and A-train, and of course RedSox. We had a great time and once again, I was pretty drunk after one glass of wine... but I still had a second glass just to seal the deal.

RedSox left for Chicago this morning, and I went home. Just as I was about to enter my apartment building, Roomate called. I told her I was about to walk in, so I went to straight to her room.

She tells me that she's moving out at the end of the month (12 days).

I felt like I had been slapped in the face. We haven't had the best relationship since she came back from Sweden. I've been at the hospital. She has been at her internship. On the weekends I am with RedSox and she is with her boyfriend. I figured things would get better once she started back up with school.

I tried not to flip out. She told me she would pay rent until October. That's fine, but I don't have time to replace her. I asked her for help looking for a new roomate, so she agreed to come up with a CL ad but I should be the one to interview people. Great. I have one hour between coming home and going to sleep. That is exactly what I want to do with my time... especially when I need to study.

I went to my mom's office to start preparing my presentation. I called my parents and broke down. I hate crying, but I just can't take this anymore.

My parents told me not to get a new roomate or even think about it until surgery is done. If I want to live alone, I can. My mom actually wants me to live alone so she can sleepover occasionally. I felt better.

My sister called me and gave me an exact outline for my presentation. How to present, what to say, everything. Phew!

Now that I have calmed down enough to think, I can't help but still feel like I'm getting slapped in the face. There is still a long road ahead of me and my group of friends is dwindling.

I think I need an ice pack.

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Being Ignored

Do you ever notice how the second a guy stops paying attention to woman he is suddenly desirable? How the unavailable guy is more interesting? I always wonder why women get so caught up in needing and wanting the attention.

Now don't get me wrong. Mama LOOOOOVES attention. I enjoy the stares, the gawks, the undressing me with their eyes. I can't get enough of it.

BUT... I'm a predator. If a man doesn't pay me enough attention, whether it's one night at a bar or after several dates, he might as well not exist. If it's because he is shy and awkward, that sucks for him. If it is because he is hoping it will give him an edge, then he is going to attract needy women.

I'm pretty simple. Give me attention if you want to date me. Call me, email me, communicate. Because if you don't communicate OR you don't respond to my attempts (and trust me I don't try that hard), then you're on the way out.

I say this because RedSox has been paying less attention lately, not ridiculously so, but I have noticed fewer emails and a lack of the daily phone call. There could be a number of reasons (stress, surgery clerkship, business sales) from both of our ends.

BUT... I am a predator. I feel like I've already got a lot on my plate, so why should I even be caring about this?

Maybe I care because RedSox is not just one night at a bar or just a few dates. Maybe I'm not such a predator after all.

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Better Off Alone

I don't think I am relationship material. More and more lately I miss going out, flirting with whomever and trying to hook my friends up. I can't do that anymore... not while in a relationship.

Last night, I went out with a couple of med school friends. I'm half-way through surgery and others had finished a 6 week block. It was party time. I was really happy because I never get to go out anymore. Either I'm tired or anyone I ask is not in the mood.

When Madge asked me to meet up for drinks, I was excited! We were going to a popular place where there were tons of guys and great dancing...

But I had RedSox with me. He is not much of a dancer, so that kinda puts me out of the mood. He wasn't feeling very social, so that again puts me out of the mood.

I finally perked up when my girl Ems wanted a guy. She was being shy and that immediately gave me a mission: I'm gonna hook Ems up. It turned out the guy she wanted was a buddy of one of our friends.

Perfect! I jumped in between the two and started chatting up our friend. That left the guy wide open for Ems to come in. She was holding back so I decided to introduce them. I had to keep our friend away, though, so I kept chatting with him.

RedSox did not like this at all. He took it as me flirting away with another man and got super jealous.

I hate jealousy. I do not flirt with other men to make my man jealous. I flirt with other men to get their friends to flirt with my friends.

I explained this to RedSox, but his feelings had already been hurt. He didn't get it and accused me of being too drunk. That is when I lost it.

There was no screaming match. I'm never interested in public battles. I didn't say goodbye to anyone. I just walked out of the bar and headed back towards his car. He followed. Neither one of us said a word until we got back to his place. I jumped into bed, and that's when he asked if we could talk.

We had a good discussion. I understood his view, and what things looked like to him. I hope he understood my view. I guess we resolved everything. I don't quite remember the convo.

But the whole experience just fuels my desire to go back to being single.

As much as I love RedSox, the thought of being alone doesn't upset me. I have never wanted a boyfriend. I have never needed a relationship.

PLUS, I don't know where residency is going to take me, but I know I'm hoping for NYC, Chicago, DC or Seattle... not Boston.

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Behind a face mask

Most of my patients are in their 40s or above, so when I saw a mid-twenties male on my OR schedule today I was secretly excited, hoping he would be hot.

There is very little eye candy at my hospital, and I desperately wanted a hottie to brighten my day.

The Lord answered my prayers. MetMan was gorgeous. Totally the preppy JCrew type. PERFECT for me. The only thing that could have made him better looking is blond hair. (But then I don't know if I could have controlled myself in the pre-op area).

I spent PLENTY of time doing my history and physical exam. I helped wheel him into the operating room, and I stood by his side as he went under general anesthesia. I am SUCH an awesome medical student.

We did a little work on his upper body, but then it was time to move down. Suddenly he was naked. This is pretty normal in the OR and everyone moved about doing their job. I observed like a good medical student... smiling the entire time.

Thank God for the face mask.

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Just end already

I am tired of being tired. Today I essentially did nothing and it was well-needed and fantastic... except for the occasional panic that I didn't study.

I did have sex today. Finally. It was pretty good, but I didn't get off... no surprise. RedSox and I used the vibrating condom that we bought over a month ago. It turned out to be a re-usable vibrating cock ring, so I guess it's good that we can try again.

Afterwards, we were relaxing and watching tv. I turned to him and thanked him for dinner last night and lunch today.

RedSox thanked me for the sex. I know he didn't mean anything by it, but it hit me that we barely have sex. I am never in the mood (even today). I used to go crazy if more than a day went by when I didn't get laid!

Tonight I celebrated a good friends birthday. Afterwards everyone was going to a club to dance. I'm home because I am exhausted.

I keep trying to tell myself that life will get better. There will be a time when I can smile again. There will be a day when I can honestly say I am happy. This whole med school process is temporary. It will be worth it in the end...

Could this please just end already?

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UDIs

I haven't had an "unidentified drunken injury" since college, but this morning I woke up to quite the scene.

Last night one of the radiologists had a pizza party. He's an awesome doctor who treats me like his daughter. He knows I love wine and always buys the good stuff for me to have.

The problem is that my tolerance doesn't really exist anymore, and I tend to drink like I still have my old one. Last night, a couple corks popped and I was off boozing with my parents and the entire department of radiology.

I remember being cornered by each resident and attending. They all had an argument as to why I needed to go into radiology and match at MGH. I hear what they're saying. It's a field that gives you a fantastic lifestyle and a ton of money. I kept nodding my head and drinking even more. At the end of the night I bid everyone adieu, and then I forgot everything.

This morning I woke up to Amy Winehouse on VH1 belting out that I gotta go to rehab... but I said NO NO NO.

I saw an empty chinese food container. I hate chinese food unless I'm in china. I got up and looked in the mirror and saw bloodshot eyes and a ton of cat scratches all over my chest. My guess is I played with cats... and they didn't like it.

I made it to surgery rounds on time. Thankfully I only had to do one patient. I dunno where the energy came from but I spent some time in the genetics clinic before going to the OR... and somehow I managed to get out of being on call tonight because I wasn't "feeling well."

I don't know how I get away with all of this... and I sure hope I continue to.

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Thank You J.K. Rowling

I told RedSox if he told anyone my boards scores, we would be done. I was half-kidding, but I did mean it when I told him if he told me the end to Harry Potter we would be done.

I know I should currently be observing my 5th coronary artery bypass grafting, but each doctor does the exact same thing. Each patient is there for the same reasons: 80% blockage of the three major heart vessels after coming into the hospital complaining of chest pain while sitting down (unstable angina... emergency).

Instead of standing in the OR "watching" I decided to do something more productive... like finish Harry Potter.

I checked the OR schedule, estimating a finish time of 1pm for the surgery. I put on my scrubs so no one could question me around the hospital. I put the book in my school bag, ventured through an empty hallway, down the steps, through the dental school building and made it safely and unseen to the med school library.

It was 7:48am and the library had only been open for 3 minutes. I ran up to the next level, pulled one of the cozy arm chairs into a private study room and planted my butt, book in hand.

I smiled, laughed, worried... and cried. Yes people. Roxy can cry. Apparently only at fiction. The last time I remember these kinds of tears I was watching the Fox and the Hound. One told the other they couldn't be friends anymore. I cried. It was discrimination! Why couldn't a fox and a dog be friends?!

All I can think to say is Thank You J.K. Rowling. Thank you for your incredible imagination. Thank you for re-awakening the kid in me, the dreamer. Thank you for brightening my current state of misery.

Simply, Thank You.

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And on the third day, she rose again

Spring Semester 2002

So after the whole sorority thing, I went into a slump because I learned that most of the sisters didn't know what was going on. Many were upset that I left, and I heard that some cried(?). But I made my decision, and I'm not taking it back.

Twin and his friends were so supportive. His big mouth of course told the guys what had happened. They were so cute. They made a big banner saying something pretty rude to my sorority, making it all pretty with hearts and bears and stuff, and they hung it on the library. Luckily the cops took it down before people even woke up in the morning.

The other sororities on campus heard the whole story from neutral sisters who no longer were neutral, and they all made me an honorary sister. I get approached by other sisters all the time asking me to come over for dinner or telling me they think I'm fabulous, but I've been avoiding them a bit because the whole sisterhood thing is too much to handle at the moment.

It was time for a break and a recharge, so I went to the bahamas with my family. It was sunny and nice and beautiful. The temperature was perfect 70's. The people are so friendly and very smily.

As for my recharge, he was 19 and he approached me in a full BRIGHT yellow suit. He was totally big pimpin, and I was so drunk that I didn't know if I was imagining a banana coming towards me. He tried to get me to go smoke up with him in his room, but my sister turned into mom and absolutely refused. I wasn't gonna go anyways.

Well I'm back to normal and ready to rock... let's see where the rest of the semester is going to take me.

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PanHELL

Spring Semester 2002

I guess I should have seen this coming. It took us into February to finally get together. BlondEngineer was upset with me after our hook-up because he didn't want to be just another kicked keg. But most of all, I was going through all the levels of hell as I took charge of my role as the VP of Panhell.

Sorority rush takes place at the beginning of the spring semester. It's a huge competition amongst the various houses AND all the girls rushing. As the VP of Panhell, this entire shebang was almost entirely under my supervision. I had to come up with the theme, organize the schedule, make sure people were where they were supposed to be, etc etc. Everything was set, and nothing was different from the prior years. I trusted the neutral sisters to do their job. I'm not a micro-manager. It's not my style.

Unfortunately this displeased a lot of my sorority sisters. I did my very best to maintain neutrality and fairness, and a couple of girls from MY house made it clear that I should be working in the best interest of MY house.

I should say that it was really just ONE girl from my house who caused all the drama. She acted like a neurotic freak, and it didn't help that her bug eyes made her look like one... maybe she has Graves Disease. I like to refer to her as BitchLaden.

Anyways, incessant phone calls. "Where is the next group? Why isn't such & such happening? What is going on with X and Y? We don't want this girl coming to our house etc, etc, etc." It was a nightmare! In reality everything was going according to plan, but this girl had to be a bitch about everything.

It hurt. It hurt my feelings. I looked really bad in front of the council. I lived with a couple of neutral girls from another sorority and they couldn't believe what was going on. Their sorority and the other one on campus were so kind to me. They only called if they wanted clarification on a rule or there was something else they were unsure of.

The night before the very last day of Rush, I snapped. I was in physical and emotional pain. This was not how my sisters were supposed to treat me. I got fed up and left an away message on AOL making it very clear that I hated my sorority and loved the others.

The next day, Superbowl Sunday, I grudgingly headed to the campus center to run the final day of Rush. When I got there, all the neutral girls got up and left the room awkwardly, giving me looks of sympathy. I was left alone with the president and rush chair. They handed me a violation letter, addressed to me... from my own sorority.

Apparently BitchLaden read my away message, and accused me of violating neutrality. Now I don't think there was any way any of the little freshman girls could have read my away message, but it was possible. Even if one of them did, all I said was that I hated a certain sorority. There was no indication that I was a sister in that sorority. More importantly, what was BitchLaden doing putzing around online when she had work to do for Rush?

Because of the letter I was asked to not to participate in the last day of Rush, to which I gladly replied "wait... so I can go watch the Superbowl???" I was also to have a hearing with the faculty advisor the following morning.

The next morning I had my trial. After a Patriots win I was feeling fantastic. This was how I was supposed to feel, and I made the choice to make sure this is how I would feel.

The faculty advisor, the president, rush chair and two sisters from my sorority were at the hearing. My sorority gave their side of the story, which sounded carefully scripted since BitchLaden was asked not to attend the trial, asking that I be stripped of my title as VP of Panhell.

Then it was my turn.

I laid it all out for everyone to hear. The phone calls, the false accusations, the overall harrassment. The president and rush chair backed me up as they were present throughout all of it. I closed by saying I felt betrayed. My own sisters didn't support me, therefore they don't deserve to be my sisters. I handed over my letter of resignation from Panhell AND my letter of deactivation from my sorority.

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