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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