Once upon a time...

Why I could never be a politician

2011-05-03T00:29:00.002-04:00

The election today was full of surprises, suffice to say. Some were pleasant (the rise of the NDP and the fall of the Bloc) and one was thoroughly unpleasant (one guess). A group of us gathered tonight to watch the results and I don't think any of us were prepared for what unfolded. The tone of the evening started off light but as we saw the election results unfold, there was a palpable sense of doom. The prospect of a Conservative majority for the next 4 years certainly put us all into a state of disbelief and I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared. Alas, this is democracy and the people have spoken...though a lot of it is unintelligible.

However, I think what resonated with me was how hard it was to be a politician. Michael Ignatieff gave a heartbreaking speech in defeat and amidst all the mudslinging that unfortunately accompanies politics, you sometimes forget that they're just people with dreams and a vision. I even felt badly for Gilles Duceppe even though I don't agree with the views of his party (at all). Going through medical school, you open yourself to a lot of scrutiny in the process of learning to become a doctor. Though it's a necessary part of medical training, you do often feel about two feet tall and I can't imagine what it would be like to be publicly lambasted on the news, in the papers and in really stupid smear campaigns (Stephen Harper, I am looking squarely at you - if you do nothing else, hire a new marketing team and make commercials that don't insult the intelligence of 98% of Canadians).

The Collateral Damage of CaRMS (aka applications to residency)

2010-11-25T23:42:00.005-05:00

Number of personal essays = 8
Number of personal essay revisions = 27 +/- 9483
Water bottles lost = 2
Pairs of gloves lost = 1
Daily servings of caffeine (on average) = 4
Number of trips to Black's to get a stupid photo for the application = 3
Boxes of Tim Tams consumed = 1
Pounds of chocolate consumed = too many to count
Number of Gilmore Girls episodes watched in procrastination = 30
New grey hairs = 10
Hours of sleep lost = what is this sleep you speak of?

21 kilometers later...

2010-10-20T21:58:00.003-04:00

I can't believe that I haven't written in 2 months...

Well, I finally ran the half marathon on Sunday. I'm not sure what I was expecting to feel afterwards. I was definitely exhausted and had that feeling of knowing I had nothing else left to give. It was also somewhat surreal that I actually did it. It was a bit of a far off, almost mythic goal for me and I wasn't sure I could run over over 2 hours straight...but here we are.

I woke up a little after 5 to catch a bus into Toronto and all I could think of was the insanity that accompanies waking up while it was still dark and cold to go run for a couple of hours. However, as the sun rose, it was apparent that it was going to be a beautiful day. Clear skies, shining sun...there wasn't more that I could ask for in terms of the weather. It was funny because I wound up missing the mass of runners going across the start line because I was waiting in line to use the washroom. It was incredibly odd to be starting the race with noone around me and it was almost settling when I found myself in a mass of people again.

As for the rest of the race:

Start Line: Started running in the opposite direction after missing the gun start by 10 minutes. Fortunately someone sent me in the right direction after I ran about 10 meters.

Km 1-4: Feeling great. I was actually running faster than normal but I think that was the adrenaline.

Km 5: Monster epic hill. Miraculously, I kept running throughout it.

Km 6-11: Still feeling okay but definitely not moving as fast. Still, there is something most epic about running towards the CN Tower and seeing it get progressively bigger.

Km 12-16: I feel like death. I ponder why I decided this would be a good idea. This part of the race was off Yonge Street and there weren't nearly as many people cheering so there wasn't quite that race atmosphere on this stretch. Also, my hands and jaw started to cramp up, which was a little freaky. My hands had cramped sometimes during long runs in training but my jaw never did. I might need to see a doctor about that at some point. Also, Power Gels are disgusting.

Km 17-19: Things started to feel a little better once we were back in the downtown core. I'm still slow but not in pain.

Km 20-21: I decide to pick up my pace with 2 km to go...big mistake. I settle back into my pace and decide to only run hard when I can see the finish line...because I wasn't sure it was going to arrive. I cross the finish line and I get a medal, as proof of my insanity.

I think I ran the half mostly to prove to myself that I could do it and I did have that nice sense of accomplishment at the end (amidst the leg cramps). However, there's that part of me that wonders how much faster I could be if I trained harder (and didn't have to apply for residency in the midst of it). I'm in the process of suppressing the Type A part of my personality that wants to do this again...but faster. I am fairly content with being a bum for the better part of this week as I get into my obstetrics rotation before I start to get too ambitious.

A Half Insane Decision...The Half Marathon

2010-08-17T23:02:00.004-04:00

I decided to run a half marathon in the fall a few months ago. After not playing team sports of any kind for half a year, I decided I needed some sort of athletic goal...hence, the half marathon. I will be the first to admit that I'm not a "runner" runner but I've dabbled in running since starting med school, largely because it seems like EVERYONE in medicine runs. On top of that, my rotations in the months preceding the half marathon were somewhat conducive to following a training schedule (i.e. no surgical or internal medicine rotations).

I went to the gym on Sunday to do my long run since it was ridiculously humid outside and I really did not want to put myself through that, having already had a disastrous experience with humidity and long runs a few weeks ago. 12 kilometers later, I was still alive (sweaty but alive) and I was doing a slow walk on the treadmill to cool down. There was a guy on the treadmill next to me also doing a long run and as I got my breath back, he asked if I was running the marathon (there was a poster for the marathon conveniently located in front of my treadmill). He asked what my goal for the half was and he said that if I ran at the pace that I was running at, I would definitely break my goal. It was a funny moment because I don't see myself as a runner and he was talking to me like I was a serious runner. Serious soccer/field hockey player, yes, but runner? This might take some getting used it.

The Components of a Great Evening on Call*

2010-08-10T23:13:00.003-04:00

Being able to spend the night on call at home.
Having pizza for dinner.
Having ice cream for dessert.
Watching the newest episode of Australia's Next Top Model.
Making a London Fog latte and sitting on your balcony, watching the rain.
Watching a DVD once it looks evident that you won't be called in.

*In writing about this, I realize I have now jinxed my calls for the rest of my psych rotation...

Gah, insomnia

2010-07-20T22:29:00.002-04:00

I'm in Toronto right now on an elective placement and for whatever reason, I've been having trouble sleeping. Normally (and especially since clerkship started), I've never had issues falling asleep. I'm out like a light most nights and sometimes wind up falling asleep on the couch before I mean to. I've tried to identify most of my typical triggers (caffeine too late in the day, stress, having a lot going on) and I've ruled out most of them. My usual surefire ritual of warm milk and a shower has even been failing me. The insomnia is admittedly not ideal when you're trying to put your best foot forward but it's even more inconvenient when you're only working in the morning (but working mornings only = awesome). I feel by the time I finally wake up and am alert, my day is over.

I had dinner with a few med friends last night and I was discussing my insomnia. One of them brought up that it wasn't that surprising considering how much we've been moving around in clerkship. So far, I have spent 18 weeks away from my apartment and there's also the issue of having a first day of work every 3 to 6 weeks which tends to wreak a little havoc on your stress level. I do find it surprising how quickly you can become accustomed to new apartments and new cities and new systems. You have that initial awkward day and then everything falls into this nice routine. That being said, sometimes you just miss your bed. And your kitchen...I feel like I haven't been able to cook or bake the way that I normally would since I've been out of my apartment. There really is no point in stocking up a kitchen that you're only going to be in for 3 weeks, only to have to move it back with you (which is definitely not a good idea when you're as packing-challenged as I).

That being said, I will be very sad to leave my current digs and Toronto at the end of this week. It's been a pretty great set-up and I've gotten used to my commute to work, walking past the CHUM building and then hopping on the subway and streetcar (though the smell of hot garbage in 40 C weather has caused me to almost lose my lunch on a few occasions). I think I am really considering doing my residency in Toronto, just to get that big city experience for a few years. I love the endless food possibilities and my credit card has taken quite a hit from the recent shopping splurge I've undertaken (which I'm attributing to my time in cities with subpar shopping). There's just that feel in a city where it seems to be in a state of perpetual motion that makes you feel a little more alive.

Parents 1, Me 0

2010-07-04T00:41:00.004-04:00

My inability to speak Punjabi beyond the level of a 2 year old has always been a point of contention between my parents and I. Most of my friends that do speak it either had grandparents living with them while they grew up or they visited India for an extended period of time when they were young. Neither of these things happened to me and though I can understand the language pretty well, I have trouble stringing words together to form a grammatically correct sentence. I did attempt Punjabi classes when I was younger (or rather, was forced to by my parents), but these did little other than lower my self-esteem (being a 7th grader amidst a bunch of 3rd graders tends to do that, particularly when they can kick your butt at speaking). It was funny, we had family friends visiting us from India a few weeks ago and they were telling my parents that they had fantastic kids and that the only possible flaw that someone could point out about us was the language issue.

I wanted to be a doctor when I was little, before I even really knew what that meant. My parents picked up on this and every now and then as I grew up, their argument for learning to speak Punjabi was my foreseeable inability to communicate with Punjabi patients that didn't speak English. I pshawed this...until I was on call a couple weekends ago with my preceptor and I found myself in this situation. I could manage a few words but I definitely cursed my younger self for not trying as hard. I have one more thing to add to the infinite list of things to do now...

Thoughts on American Standardized Tests...

2010-05-21T12:00:00.001-04:00

They suck.

You know medicine has taken over your brain when...

2010-05-10T22:53:00.002-04:00

I was reading a medical chart today and there was a note about "left AMA". I wracked my brain and couldn't think of which blood vessel that was...because it is all too common to refer to blood vessels as acronyms (e.g. RCA = right coronary artery, IJV = inferior jugular vein). Not wanting to feel stupid, I did not decide to clarify that with the resident on call but then I realized that AMA did not stand for something like "Anterior middle artery" but rather, "against medical advice", as in the patient left against medical advice. Sigh.

Also, I am totally in awe of the fact that a weekend of some enjoyment (and some studying) can be negated by a 14 hour day in the hospital. I feel like it is Friday...and it's only Monday. Double sigh. It's time for some chocolate...

The Joys of Call...Not

2010-05-02T15:56:00.002-04:00

I was blissfully spared call* this weekend and had huge ambitions to sleep in. However, what sleeping in now means apparently is 8am. I did manage to fit in a sizable nap yesterday, which partially compensates for the lack of real sleeping in (defined as waking up at or after 10am in my world).

I was on Friday-Sunday call for emergency consults last weekend, which is arguably as brutal as call gets (the only thing worse is being on Friday-Sunday-Tuesday call, meaning you really don't get a chance to recover before you have to be on call again). I managed to get an hour of sleep here and there on both nights but nothing that amounts to a good night of sleep.

It's funny because though I've not done a huge amount of call, I already have this whole routine. I wind up packing enough for a weekend trip which involves books pertaining to medicine, books not pertaining to medicine, clothes and food. Lots of food. I also almost always look at my bed longingly before I leave my place and think "Sadly, I won't sleep in you tonight". It's just a weird feeling knowing you won't be going back to your place that night. I usually start counting down the number of hours left around midnight. I think I usually feel worst at about 4am (provided I'm awake) when I just want to sleep and I curse people for coming in. However by 6am, I start to perk up in anticipation of getting to leave the hospital soon and then can feign some level of alertness...and honestly, going home post-call even when you're stinky and sleep deprived is the greatest thing ever.

*Call: when you're on duty at the hospital after your normal hours...usually this means overnight call and a good chance that you won't see a bed for about 24 hours but you usually get the following day off. Usually.

Note to Self: Do Not Book Electives During the Olympics

2010-02-25T23:44:00.002-05:00

I've been in Halifax for the past couple weeks on my first elective rotation in pediatrics. It's been pretty nice working with kids and not getting yelled at by 80 year olds. The doctors that I'm working with have been really great about making sure that I get to see a lot and are good at teaching without making me feel really stupid. I've been staying with this incredibly sweet woman that makes all of my meals so I feel rather spoiled and also just a wee bit fat. There's a resident and med student also staying with her and I feel like I'm coming home to this pseudo family every night, which has been really nice (particularly in contrast to my first rotation where I would come home at 7:30pm, defrost something out of the freezer and then pass out in front of the tv...sometimes with food still in the oven). We've carved out this nice niche of working out, eating, drinking tea and watching tons of Olympic events.

I thought that having the Olympics in Vancouver would be nice because I wouldn't have to deal with a huge time zone difference. It turns out that 4 hours is actually quite a bit of a difference because it's small enough that you wind up watching most things live but large enough that you feel it at work the next day. I tried to be somewhat disciplined about going to bed early but that lasted all of two days and then I got officially sucked into the Olympic vortex. At least they only happen once every two years so I won't have to worry about this again until I'm a resident.

I don't call you out on eavesdropping, now do I?

2010-01-31T23:10:00.002-05:00

I had this weekend off (woooo!) and so I took the opportunity to catch up with one of my friends over breakfast today. We used to talk a lot and though I see her in passing at the hospital, we haven't had a chance for awhile to just talk. Naturally, we had lots to say and the conversation was non-stop. There was an older couple sitting at the table next to us and as we got up, the woman made a comment about being smugly amused by my use of the word "like". To be honest, I was a little stunned about this uninvited commentary and frankly I found it condescending. If I was in a snarky mood, I would have replied with an observation on people that eavesdrop on other people's conversations...but I wasn't.

Not that I need to defend my use of the word like, but I limit my use of the word when I'm in the hospital (which amounted to 66 hours this week). I'm usually a little more deliberate about my word choice because you don't want to put your foot in your mouth while talking to a patient (or you want to at least limit those incidents). However, when I'm talking to a friend that I don't see as often as I like, and I'm happy to see them and we're having a fun conversation, I don't expect the speech police to be there, ready to critique me. I don't know which pseudo-intellectual deemed that profuse use of the word like was equal to having an IQ of 50 but I really resent that assumption. Frankly, if the alternate is talking slowly and pausing frequently to find the right word and being boring (and eavesdropping on other people's conversations because my own conversations suck), I will take my rapid and enthusiastic speech peppered with the word like.

My life has been flip-turned upside down

2010-01-18T23:39:00.002-05:00

So, I could have sworn that 3 weeks ago, I had a life. I used to work out and sleep in and revel in food and actually saw my friends. Now...life is different:

My birthday kinda sucked. I was in the hospital from 7:45am on my birthday until 1:30pm the following day. Sleep did not factor in there. I was half tempted to fall down a flight of stairs so that I could go to the emerg and get some sleep. I went for a dinner with a bunch of friends that night after sleeping for 4 hours and that was actually quite nice. However, I then proceeded to deal with Norwalk for the rest of the weekend. I got to know my toilet much better than I think I ever wanted to. I want a birthday do-over. Seriously.
I have worked out once in the past 15 days. I was going to go today because I left the hospital at a reasonable hour (i.e. before 7pm) but then I realized that laundry was more pressing.
I really really miss sleep. That being said, it alarms me that I can semi-function after 24 hours of no sleep.
I also miss my family and friends. I better see some of them when I come home for this weekend...if I get out of the hospital.
I go to bed before midnight now...that in itself is very whoa.

That being said, all is not bad:

I am thankful for residents* who remember what it was like to know nothing and are happy to teach, even at 3am. I also commend those who understand that my ability to speak after a night on call is basically nil.
Some patients are in remarkably good spirits and that in itself can help me forget that 5 seconds ago, I was nauseous/cranky/sleepy.
Somehow this all seems okay because you're going through it with your friends.

*Residents are in the land between med students and full-fledged doctors

Soo...this is clerkship

2010-01-06T21:35:00.003-05:00

Well, I have finished 3 days of clerkship so far and what amuses me most is how I can be so ineffectual, feel so insignificant, know nothing and yet still be in the hospital until 6:30pm. It's a lot of learning as you go in terms of how to write up things and what the myriad of acronyms stand for. My attending is actually quite fantastic and British (when we told him we were his clerks on the first day, we had a group hug) and the residents are also helpful and patient. However, I'm finding it hard to fake confidence when you feel so completely out of your element - I have a tendency to answer questions like I know I'm wrong, even when I happen to spuriously be right.

I have a hard time remembering when I last felt so tired. I catch myself doing things, like putting things in the fridge that don't belong there, wearing things that don't match, walking into rooms and then forgetting why I went there...and then I realize that this is only week 1. I've also been having trippy dreams at night and waking up at odd hours before my alarm (such as 4:23am). I'm determined to be in bed before 11pm in anticipation of my first night on call...coincidentally also the day I turn 29. Let the good times roll...

Braving the Boxing Day Crowd: A Sure Sign of Insanity

2009-12-29T13:16:00.002-05:00

Though I have a soft spot for certain stores (e.g. Simon's in Quebec, which many of my med friends will attest to), I don't consider myself a huge shopper. Having a debt in a constant state of growth may have something to do with that...Anyway, typically Boxing Day is a time for me to revel in the quietness of my house while my sisters do the rounds and give their credit cards a workout.

Last winter break while in Australia, I went Boxing Day shopping with my cousin in Melbourne to determine if it's only Canadians that go insane the day after Christmas. It turns out we're not, as I witnessed people makeshift parking on grass, getting into rifts over parking spots and of course, swarms of people picking over marked down clothing. I did come out with a few good deals but it was an overwhelming experience, though I attribute part of that to seeing Christmas trees in 30 C weather.

This year, I volunteered to drive my sisters to the mall on Boxing Day and then figured that I would do a bit of shopping seeing as I was already there. My purchases weren't overly exciting - dress socks and bath products (I realized after the fact that I can't wear anything scented in the hospital so I will not be getting quite the use out of the bath products that I hoped) - but I found the whole process strangely soulless. People just seemed to be mindlessly pinballing from store to store in search of deals and not necessarily things that they actually needed. It makes you wish that people could be as passionate about things having actual bearing on their lives as they are about the sale at Aritzia.

The Trusty Sony CFD-540

2009-12-24T01:44:00.003-05:00

I think a solid 4 days of doing nothing and allowing medical knowledge to seep freely from my brain has finally enabled me to embrace being on break. The flip side of this is that I do actually have to start contacting people about getting together or yet another break is going to go by where I do nothing to counter the claims that med school has actually swallowed me whole.

Periodically, I wonder what exactly we did before the internet (despite the fact that I managed about 18 years without really using the internet). I have a rather ancient Sony minisystem (AM/FM, TWO tape decks and a CD player) that I bought in grade 9, which make it about 14 years old. Surprisingly, it still works but the CD player is incredibly finicky and only reads about 1% of my CD collection (for the other 99%, I would get a "No DISC" message). It got to the point where it couldn't read a lens cleaner disc so I googled possible solutions. That's when I discovered that a cotton swab and some rubbing alcohol on the lens would make my CD player less snobby about what it would play. To be honest, it's a little strange now being able to put in a CD and not have to try 3 times to get it to play.

Just don't look down...

2009-12-18T22:44:00.002-05:00

So exams have come and gone and are hopefully a thing of the past* and what is a little unusual for my post-exam state of mind is that instead of having my stress levels drop to nil, there's still a bit of stress going on, wondering about how properly incompetent I will be in clerkship** and whether I'll be able to sort out electives***. I realized that I have call on my 29th birthday so I will be in the hospital from about 7:45am on my birthday until 8am the following day. The lone plus side is that I wind up with a 3 day weekend so if I theoretically wished to escape to Montreal, I could. However, I have a feeling my glaring lack of knowledge will convince me to spend the weekend reading and be semi-responsible.

We had a prep week for clerkship this week which wound up being pretty exhausting (I still haven't managed more than 6 hours of sleep in a night yet). Between finishing exams, this week and a class trip to Tremblant where people couldn't help but go over exam questions (which I can't, for the life of me, understand - people, we're in a veritable winter wonderland, could we not discuss diarrhea?), I think I was feeling a little maxed out on medicine. I decided to opt out of a med social on Tuesday to go rock climbing with a few friends. I hadn't climbed since I was 16 or 17 and it was funny because on my first climb, I made it up about 4/5 up the wall, looked over my shoulder, realized how high off the ground I was and decided I needed to come down post haste. I don't think I'm scared of heights so much as I'm afraid of plummeting from said heights. It took a bit of time to get over that fear and to not freak out when I couldn't figure out where to go next. However, I think I will definitely be doing more climbing in the new year, to fill the void of no longer playing soccer/volleyball/ultimate frisbee.

*Contingent on passing exams
**Clerkship is when we move into the hospital and see patients (and possibly get yelled at by various members of the medical team)
***Electives are clinical rotations that you get to choose and usually do at other schools

10 Reasons Not To Quit Med School

2009-12-07T14:51:00.002-05:00

Exams are such a rollercoaster of emotions - I can go from feeling confident to clueless to hysterical to angry in a matter of minutes. I'm currently in a mood downswing and decided to look up a list of reasons why I shouldn't quit med school. This was originally written back in September 2007 when I started med school and found I didn't like it...at all. Fortunately, I had a fateful conversation on a park bench with someone that is now one of my closest friends here, and we mutually resolved to stay in school and fight the good fight.

10 Reasons Not To Quit Med School

One acronym: OMSAS.* We survived it.
If we quit here and get into another school elsewhere, it could be worse than this.
We would have to get a job at a fast food joint to start re-paying our numerous loans.
We would have to move all our crap again.
We're here to become doctors, not to be med students.
We did manage to survive high school.**
We would wonder "what if I never dropped out of medical school?" for the rest of our lives.
What else would we do with our lives?
Writing the MCAT would not have been in vain.***
It may get better from here on it...and if not, it might be fun to be the Daria of our class and make sarcastic remarks and witty observations.****

*OMSAS is the website through which you apply to Ontario med schools
**Med school often bears a striking resemblance to high school
***The MCAT is a horrific standardized test, designed to weed out pre-med keeners
****In my humble opinion, one of the only decent things to come out of MTV was the hilarious cartoon Daria.

The Past 2.5 Years

2009-12-04T17:47:00.004-05:00

After I went to India a few years ago, I found myself periodically checking The Times of India website (an English language newspaper which, according to Wikipedia, has the highest circulation of any English language paper in the world - who knew?). However, I stopped after getting annoyed by all the pop-ups that managed to evade my pop-up blocker. After my Australia trip last Christmas, I found myself very nostalgic for all that is Oz and started to read the Sydney Morning Herald online to get a little taste of that Aussie wit and cheekiness. It has since morphed into a daily habit, which a few of my friends find rather amusing. I was reading one of the blogs by Sam deBrito where he talks about how people seem to waste so much time doing nothing. He comments on one of his former flatmates who decided to go to China for 2.5 years to learn to speak Chinese and how incredible an accomplishment that was. Usually when I read stories like this, it makes me feel somewhat inferior and I think of all the amazing things I could be doing with my life. I started to ponder what I had been doing for the past 2.5 years and then I realized, "Oh wait, you've been in med school, trying to learn how to be a doctor...surely that's as epic as a blond dude going to China to learn Chinese...right?" However, I must say that this whole becoming a doctor business feels like a bust on the brink of exams - I am convinced I must have spent the better part of the term daydreaming for all the knowledge I can currently recall at the drop of a hat.

The Exam Time Grind

2009-11-23T00:17:00.003-05:00

Each exam period, I feel as though I hit the point of loathing studying sooner and sooner. Things have only been moderately intense for about 2 weeks (a slew of clinical skills in November hasn't helped me find a studying groove) and already I am frustrated and daydreaming of the things I would rather do than spend quality time with my notes. I spent around 7 hours at school studying, though the last 2 hours were rather weak because I was hungry and had neglected to pack enough food (I finished my food about 4 hours in). I also realized that I didn't see a single person that I know today and am almost looking forward to class tomorrow, if only to have physical contact with people. It's a fine balance between being able to follow your own schedule without getting lonely and studying with friends without letting your respective anxiety levels negatively affect each other. I'm still not entirely sure I have the balance right (which is a little funny, given the number of years I've spent in school where I have had the opportunity to perfect this) but I think playing it by ear is as good a strategy as any.

Go Away Dr. Oz

2009-11-20T17:01:00.003-05:00

Initially, I didn't think too much when Dr. Oz decided to pull a Dr. Phil and have a spin-off show of his own after paying his dues on the Oprah Winfrey show. I never really objected to his presence on Oprah's show - he seemed to be giving medically sound advice and actually wasn't annoying (unlikely Dr. Phil).

However, after catching snippets of his show, I find myself really irked by it. Instead of continuing to provide medically sound advice, he seems to be engaging in a lot of fear mongering. For instance, today he's talking about bed bugs. He was narrating a bed bug attack and it was like he missed his calling by going to med school instead of theatre school. His message: NOONE IS SAFE FROM THE THREAT OF BED BUGS. In fact, noone is safe from anything anymore. I understand that the risk of getting bitten by bed bugs increases when you travel and stay in hotels and decided to pick up couches from curbsides, but it feels like instead of making people more savvy, this information overload is making people feel more paranoid. And this paranoia-inducing approach is not reserved to bed bugs - he tends to tackle a lot of issues like this. Then there's the touchy-feely empowering stories of plastic surgery (where the idiotic audience applauds like this woman cured cancer instead of getting a tummy tuck). I seriously hope this show doesn't last more than a few episodes. Unfortunately the equally unpalatable show, The Doctors, is still on the air so that's not exacting promising news for my future.

In other news...Oprah decided to lay the facts out today about her show coming to a close in 2011. What was particularly eery about it was that it felt like she was giving a presidential address. She looked straight into the camera and spoke about the support she received from people over the years and I swear you could have dubbed over with a presidential speech (okay, maybe nothing from the Bush era) and the facial expression and body language would not have been inappropriate at all.

Sad and beautiful and adorable all at the same time

2009-11-05T14:25:00.003-05:00

I read this article in The Star and found it incredibly sweet:

http://www.parentcentral.ca/parent/newsfeatures/article/721390--dying-6-year-old-girl-leaves-love-notes-behind

Hasta La Vista Vista...and Running

2009-10-22T09:22:00.002-04:00

On Sunday, I woke up early (well, early for a Sunday) so that I could go run 8km.

Yes, this may be a sign of clinical insanity.

I hadn't really trained for the race (save for running twice in the preceding 2 weeks) and was anticipating the worst - cramping, pain, maybe a little N&V (nausea and vomiting). However, it was actually a great race - the trail ran along a lake and the sky was clear and blue. I usually try to run 6 minute kilometers (read: slow) but I managed to do the race in 47 minutes and change. I also usually feel like crap afterwards but it was incredible. You could have gotten me to commit to running a marathon (however, the post-race euphoria may have also been a result of the coffee and cookies I had consumed - there was honestly a bake sale worthy spread of food after the race). I think I do want to attempt a half marathon but I will definitely have to do some sort of training for it, just to avoid dying and/or passing out partway through.

And finally...Vista is being replaced by a (hopefully superior) Windows 7. However, I feel like Microsoft should give everyone that was forced to buy Vista a free copy of Windows 7 as compensation for their trouble. I have loathed Vista in a way that I have never loathed a computer platform before. Between the general slowness, multitude of messages asking permission for EVERYTHING and lack of intuitiveness, this new fix could not arrive fast enough.

Butternut Squash Soup

2009-10-17T12:01:00.005-04:00

One of my friends, Jess, decided to organize a soup exchange, which is arguably one of the greatest ideas ever. In a nutshell, you make a big pot of soup and give each person participating a serving size of soup...so you wind up with 6 different kinds of soup that you can freeze and then eat during exams when we're too tired/stressed/sleep-deprived to cook. I've been meaning to try making soup from scratch for awhile but I figured this would be an ideal opportunity. I attempted butternut squash soup and I was quite happy with how it turned out - hopefully everyone else will concur.

Periodically, I realize the extent of my immersion in the med school bubble...One of the girls on my soccer team gave me a lift to the game and I was telling her that I was expecting clerkship to be crazy and when she asked what clerkship was, I realized the downside of hanging out with fellow meds 24-7 - thinking that everyone will automatically know what clerkship (and other fairly med-specific terms) means. For the record, clerkship is when we get flung from the relative security (and ennui) of lectures in the classroom to the hospitals where we are at the mercy of physicians, nurses, residents and patients. In all seriousness, I think most of us are looking forward to this because this is why we decided we wanted to be doctors (i.e. not to sit in lectures for hours at a time). It won't be pretty but pretty is thoroughly overrated.

I finally finished reading Other People's Love Letters. I've been reading a few every night before bed and it has been surprisingly life-affirming in that amidst the hate, corruption and deceit that runs rampant, there is still an abundance of love and compassion and trust in the world. Some of the letters are cheeky, others are wonderfully brave and some reflect a love that has already weathered many a storm. At the back of the book, there are back stories about some of the letters and it is touching to see how many of the authors of the letters wound up marrying the object of their affection. I definitely want to pick up a copy of this for myself for those days when life seems rather bleek.

Birthday Letter

2009-10-08T10:54:00.003-04:00

Paul lent me Other People's Love Letters and this is one of my favourites:

http://thisfloatinglife.blogspot.com/2005/11/birthday-letter.html

Coming from a true soccer fan...clearly not one hypnotized by Ronaldo's abs

2009-08-08T00:14:00.003-04:00

“[Cristiano Ronaldo]’s worth every penny,” said Stephanie, of Oakville, Ont., a young woman dressed in a Real Madrid crop top wrapped in a Portuguese flag. “David Beckham was good in his prime but he’s a little done now. He’s had his moment and it’s his time and he’s the new David Beckham, he needs to shine. He’s like him, but in a newer, stronger, younger age that Beckham never had.” (The Globe and Mail, August 7, 2009)

Honestly girl, what are you trying to say? That Beckham is like an overcooked pot roast because "he's a little done now"? That Beckham was never the same age as Ronaldo? Twit.

The (Slow) Return of Soccer Mojo and Other Recent Occurrences

2009-07-25T01:11:00.004-04:00

First, I just want to say that VIA royally screwed my camping plans for the weekend. Royally. However, their discounted fares may be somewhat redeeming if they assist me in getting to Montreal this weekend. That's assuming I can actually manage to log onto their website and book tickets. Stay tuned.

I'm playing soccer on an all-girls team this summer, which feels a little weird after playing co-ed for the past few summers. Dare I say that some of the girls we play against are a little vicious, more so than some of the more evil boys I've played against? Part of that may be attributed to the fact that I'm playing in Tier 1 (and maybe people are more cutthroat as a result?). Anyway, I realized it had been a year since I've played defence for longer than 10 minutes. I've been playing goalie for my indoor teams and I think I was finally getting the hang of inhibiting the defender/midfield in me when it was necessary that I think like a goalie. However, I didn't think I had inhibited it so much that I couldn't play defense anymore.

There are some really talented people on my current team (who may or may not have played on soccer scholarships in the States) and I'm properly in awe most games. Women who've had 3 kids still dominate the field in a way that I've never been able to. My first game happened to be against the best team in the league and it was pretty painful and a little disheartening... Fortunately, after that game (and a somewhat disastrous stint in net against the same team), it feels like some skill is coming back. I still feel completely outclassed...but less so now? More importantly, I am having fun and I'd be lying if I said that I didn't like a good challenge.

A few weeks ago, I went to Joy (the only place in Kingston that plays dance music) with a few friends and while I had a great time, there were a few notable turd boys who felt that they had open invite to grind up against any woman who might have let her guard down for a second. Seriously, most women don't take too kindly to be introduced to your crotch before they know your name. It was funny because at the time, I pondered if wearing a ring on your ring finger may potentially be a deterrent (I concluded that a guy who lacks the decency to introduce himself to you would likely not have the decency to heed a wedding ring).

However, while perusing the Salon website recently, I came across this article: http://www.salon.com/mwt/broadsheet/feature/2009/07/28/mstaken/index.html. Apparently I was not alone in the pseudo wedding ring thought.

And finally...I've noticed a weird trend - being catcalled...by other women? The first such time was during a walk in suburbia. It has also happened while waiting to pick up take-out on the "main" street in Kingston and while retrieving a ball when I was playing goal last week. Somehow I don't think this is what the third wave of feminism had in mind.

Last Night A DJ Saved My Life

2009-07-06T22:17:00.003-04:00

Last summer, I picked up Last Night A DJ Saved My Life: The History of the Disc Jockey from Chapters, but I am only now getting a chance to read it. I'm liking it so far - it's very reminiscent of the Popular Music course I took in undergrad. I was on the Amazon website and I was looking for a book on DJing written by one of the co-authors. In doing so, I discovered that the authors updated the book a few years ago and it doesn't just sound like a little update - the new version of the book has 200 more pages than the previous version. Couldn't they have just published a new book? I would feel bad/wasteful buying the updated version and so I'll probably just sign it out from the library once I finish reading the first edition. I know it will drive me nuts reading it though, knowing that there are 200 more pages that I should be reading.

I love video montages

2009-06-12T23:46:00.002-04:00

Everything seems much more epic when played to a song. I just finished watching the Stanley Cup Finals and I always have to watch the games to the end (from the time they skate around the ring with the Cup to the closing credits). Without fail, CBC manages to put together a montage that captures all of these happy and sad and funny moments to an aptly picked song (well, one exception was when they decided to play hockey highlights to Diana Ross' "Love Hangover"...it is many things but a hockey song it is not - listen to it if you don't believe me) that makes me nostalgic for something that has only been over for a whopping 7 seconds. I'm the same way after the Olympics or the finals of a tennis Grand Slam - the next day, I almost feel at a loss about how to spend my time when I don't have 4 hours of sports to watch.

I digress...video montages = good.

Resenting Med School

2009-05-30T01:20:00.003-04:00

I like to think that I am appreciative of the fact that I am in med school. I remember how properly ecstatic I was when I found out I had gotten in and one of my undergrad friends told me to always remember that feeling when things were less than stellar. There are definitely the low points - lectures by pathologists who have no right using Power Point, getting pimped in front of a patient by your tutor (getting pimped = having the tutor exploit and ridicule your lack of knowledge, sometimes only for the entertainment purposes of the tutor and patient) and the 6 week grind that precedes every exam. However, there are also the high points - when you manage to perform a complete physical exam in under 30 minutes, when you actually know the answer to the question that your tutor is asking you and encountering those rare doctors who still understand what it's like to be a medical student.

I just got back from the wedding of a good friend and it was really beautiful. As an aside, more and more I realize that I do not want a 3-ring circus with 1000 attendees for my wedding (which is sadly sometimes the norm in Indian weddings these days - consider it yet another way people try to constantly one up each other). However, I think what made me sad was that I wish I could have been there for her more, even as someone to rant to, in the time leading up to the wedding.

In comiserating with a fellow med student at the wedding, I said that that I could think of at least 10 people that I've been meaning to email for quite some time, but that what these people deserved was an actual interaction and not a measly inadequate email. I hate how disconnected from people I've been and how I manage to be there for the "big" things, like weddings and parties and showers but I am missing the smaller (and sometimes more meaningful) interactions, like getting coffee or having impromptu rants or going for aimless walks. I forget birthdays, am shoddy with replying to emails and haven't sent a friend a random card in a while. I know (hope) it's a temporary stage in medical training but that doesn't make it easier to know that there are so many people that I consider close friends and I couldn't tell you an exciting thing that has happened to them in the two months because I haven't talked to them.

Everybody wants to be/closer to free

2009-05-02T01:13:00.003-04:00

It's funny how hearing the Party of Five theme song can catapult you back into the 90s. I can't help but cringe at all the plaid (a little too close to my own attempts at "grunge" back in the day) and the melodrama, but it's a nice dose of nostalgia all the same. It's also funny thinking back to all the celebrities on whom you once crushed. Matthew Fox and Scott Wolf were definitely up there for me, as was Jeremy London (sadly, I still have a rather large sketch of Mr. London that was done for a project in grade 10 art).

S&R is a bit of a Kingston institution, or at least that's been my impression for the two years that I've been here. It's a random store with an elevator AND elevator operator and pretty much everything you could need as a student, plus it's been the only place where I could find Andes mints, a beloved candy from my childhood (before I discovered that S&R carried them, I would stockpile them when I went to the States). I discovered yesterday that they are closing later this summer and it is rather sad, given that they've been around for half a century. I went by today (picking up a Toronto FC jersey) and it seemed like every other customer made a comment about the ensuing closure and you realize how much of an impact something like this has on a closeknit community like Kingston. I realize things like this are sometimes inevitable with the recession and the domination of the big box stores (I now have a mental image of these boxes marching around looking all tough), but I hope that whoever buys the building (which is in itself part of the appeal that S&R has) puts it to good use.

The other thing that sucks about Kingston right now are the mayflies. I was properly horrified last year when the beginning of May rolled around (and we were still not done school yet) and I was bombarded by these tiny flies EVERYWHERE. Running was horrible because I would look stupid waving my arms around to avoid eating them, and you inevitably manage to bring in a few into your house despite your best efforts to flick them off. They are back and the thing that I find most surprising about them (aside from the sheer number of them...there seriously has to be millions of them given their 1-day lifespan) is that they fly surprisingly high. I'm on the sixth floor and every so often, I flick them off the screen only to have them soon reappear quickly. I've been treadmilling to avoid them and can't wait until I don't have to share the sidewalks with them. Ugh, I also hope they're gone before I start up with soccer too.

Why do I only seem to want to blog around exam time?

2009-04-12T18:43:00.003-04:00

Oh wait, it's because I should be trying to maximize my knowledge of nephrology, urology, cardiology and respirology when all I really want to do is the following:

Sleep in until noon
Bake scones
Dance around my apartment like an idiot
Watch old tv series on YouTube (Side note: has anybody noticed that the quality of tv is really quite poor these days? I am definitely planning on cutting my cable when my contract is up)
Watch movies: By my estimates, I'm about 3 years behind the Hollywood scene, 5 years behind the Bollywood scene and light years behind the indie movie scene
Clean everything from top to bottom - my closeted neat freak side (which is especially closeted during exams)
Read the ever-growing pile of unread books that is accumulating on my bookshelves
Forget I am a med student

And last but not least, I want to blog without guilt. I just realized that I wrote nothing of my journey Down Under to visit a few dear friends over Christmas. In good time, that will come.

What goes around comes around?

2009-02-09T10:10:00.005-05:00

During my past two visits to the library, I've had the misfortune of being seated near rather chatty individuals. In the first instance, conversations at full volume were occurring and there was no acknowledgement that: a) they were in a library on a "quiet" floor; and b) there were people nearby who were desperately trying to study. More recently last night, there was almost an entire group of people sustaining continuous conversation in hushed tones with periodic outbursts of laughter. It was thoroughly irritating, given that nephrology and cardiology require all of my brain power and their inane antics were not helping this situation.

However, part of me couldn't get too angry since I recall instances in undergrad when I was guilty in undergrad of being obnoxious in the library. I was particularly bad in second year when I was commuting and the library just became an extension of post-class coffee time. There would be a whole group of us just being loud and I suppose this was particularly unforgiveable given that this would occur in the middle of the day. Later in fourth year when studying with a friend, we demonstrated slightly more restraint, waiting for most people around us to leave before we would abandon studying and talk instead.

Grrr on New Years Resolutions

2009-01-12T18:42:00.002-05:00

I went to the gym today, hoping to get in a solid spin class. Instead, I arrived to find that it was filled early. Ditto for the body pump class running at the same time. I had to wait to finally use a treadmill and I only managed to do arm weights. Sadly, there was no space for leg exercises or abs, unless I wanted to get kicked in the head by an overzealous boxer. Then I went home. I can't wait until people forget about their resolutions and I can get back to normal gym conditions.

Birthday Horoscope

2009-01-08T01:02:00.002-05:00

I haven't done the whole birthday horoscope thing in awhile (at least, I don't think I have), but I will do this again for my 28th birthday (courtesy of the Toronto Star):

Frustration and exasperation have become common. This year, however, a solution will be close at hand whenever a problem arises. The stars will make sure of that.

Well, I sure hope so. The stars owe me, big time.

All I Want to do is Watch TV

2008-12-08T02:06:00.003-05:00

I feel like the people that schedule television programming take into consideration the days where I need to urgently study and then put on my favourite movies. During slow stretches in the term where I feel like taking a night off and watching a good movie, there is seldom quality programming to be found. However, over the past two days, X-Men, Batman Begins and Good Will Hunting have all been on tv...and where have I been? Forcefeeding myself caffeine in a vain attempt to stay awake and cram information into my already-fatigued mind at the library with other like-minded individuals. I can almost guarantee that nothing decent will be on tv on Thursday night when I will be mentally capable of nothing else. Fortunately, I will likely find other ways to occupy myself that night...such as eating and packing for a long-anticipated vacation.

How to Create the Best Lecture Slides Ever and Make Your Students Love You

2008-11-30T17:05:00.007-05:00

Add in lots of technical terms and assume students know exactly what they mean. Don't just add one - use lots because then students will assume that they are clearly stupid if an entire slide is nonsensical to them. The more acronyms, the better.
Use black writing over radiographs because the contrast is so pronounced.
Include lots of histology pictures and neglect any written explanation - surely the pictures speak for themselves?
Neglect to have any flow - instead include any random facts that pop into mind, whether they are relevant or not. The fact that you thought them automatically makes them important.
Don't bother to spellcheck or correct grammar - students will understand that those busy saving people's lives don't have time to partake in tedious exercises like proofreading.
Post multiple versions of your lecture.
Post an outdated version of your lecture. Wait precisely 1 month before posting the most recent version.
Include lots of big tables so that when they are condensed down to 3"x2", they are illegible.

School is grand sometimes.

Standardized Torture: The OSCE

2008-11-26T02:30:00.003-05:00

Today was the second of four OSCEs that we will have over the course of our preclerkship (aka pre-sleep deprivation). An OSCE is basically the way that medical schools test our clinical skills and usually you have 5-8 stations each lasting 6 minutes. Outside each station/room, you are given a stem that is basically supposed to direct what you do at that station (e.g. take a history, perform a particular part of the aspect, drop out of medical school) and you are supposed to read it for 45 seconds before a bell rings, telling you to start.

The anxiety pre-OSCE is predictably high but once you get started, you almost don't have the opportunity to be nervous because you are so constrained for time and you have to repeatedly change your focus every 7 minutes or so. However, based on these 2 OSCEs, there appears to always be 1 station that gets everyone riled up because it's seen as pretty unfair. Let's not test something you've done a million times...let's aim for that random class almost a year and half ago and see how much you remember. It's a little frustrating, particularly if you get a station that you know you pretty much sucked at and you have to keep going. I felt okay about the OSCE right after finishing but the more people talked, the worst I felt...so I stopped listening. Only 4 more months until we get to do this all over again...woo.

Sundays...and Music

2008-11-23T02:09:00.004-05:00

I love the feel that most Sundays have...the chance to just indulge in a solid breakfast and leisurely read the news and watch Gilmore Girls on tv (sadly, this is the only time it's on tv and I miss the series dearly). I've also started a whole rotation of websites that get updated on Sundays and part of the joy of Sundays is going through these. My favourites have to be PostSecret and The New York Times wedding vows section where they describe people's weddings. Some of the stories are overwhelmingly cute and I love looking at pictures of the reception and clothes...it's one of my few girly concessions.

Unfortunately, tomorrow will not have that feel because it is that time of year again when we are in the throes of studying. Unless I feel that the circumstances are particularly dire, I listen to music while I study (to make the process a little less painful). However, as my brain gets more tired, I find it increasingly difficult to listen to music with lyrics and have been opting for completely instrumental music. However, that limits my current listening to Tiesto's "Parade of the Athletes" (trance) and The Field's "From Here We Go Sublime" (ambient electronica)...I'm not quite feeling any classical quite yet but if anyone has any suggestions, just send them my way.

Overheard at Union Station This Morning

2008-11-19T00:22:00.003-05:00

"Smell better at work. Your workers will like you better."

- Man handing out perfume samples

Sometimes I really miss Toronto and the GTA and the general state of chaos. I agree that there are often too many people in too small a space and that traffic is a mess and that the city planning has been shortsighted, but it just feels right. The Toronto-Kingston transition is almost jarring at times - starting a journey at Union Station at peak chaos to end at the Kingston VIA station, which is essentially a large room with a tunnel. Kingston has honestly and truly grown on me - there are aspects which I now uniquely identify with being here (beyond the jails) - but I think some degree of culture shock is inevitable. In any case, I am back in Kingston/Queen's/med school mode...and not sure of how to end this thought.

A message that was neither threatening nor idiotic

2008-11-06T01:06:00.004-05:00

It's not too often that I find a politician moves me to feel hope or inspiration. That job has recently been in the hands of humanitarians (think Stephen Lewis, Samantha Nutt or James Orbinski) and the politicians instead succeed in making me question how people have little issue with voting in the utterly incompetent.

However, last night was different. Listening to Barack Obama's victory speech was inspiring. He was not waxing poetic for the sake of hearing his own voice, nor did he promise the world outright. He acknowledged the need for change and that this change was not going to be easy but underlying this all was optimism. No threats, no catchphrases that will be mocked mercilessly (think WMD), just our current reality. It was refreshing...and the fact that I fell asleep towards the end on my pseudo couch has more to do with my chronic sleep deprivation than it does the quality of the speech. The past 8 years south of the border has been rough and it would be unrealistic to think that it can all be done within a presidential term and that it can be done independently, but I think there is a promise there that hasn't been there in quite some time.

As an aside, promising his kids a puppy when they move into the White House was one of the most adorable things I have heard in a long time.

Little ducklings in white coats

2008-10-15T01:03:00.003-04:00

I can't help but feel like medical students help provide entertainment to those who work in teaching hospitals. Periodically we are sent into the hospital with our trusty tutors who show us how medicine is truly practiced (as opposed to how we are taught in the classroom where we will hypothetically allow a patient to talk uninterrupted for 5 minutes about their condition). Our tutors lead the way, devoid of all medical equipment save for an occasional stethoscope and exuding that knowledgeable aura of being doctors. Trailing behind is a steady stream of students in dorky clerk coats armed with an arsenal of equipment, struggling to keep up while also trying not to pose a fire hazard by blocking hallways. It's not unlike lost little ducklings blindly following their mother. NOTE: I hate my clerk coat. It's like wearing an ill-fitting scarlet letter. When it is time to retire it, I will gladly ceremoniously burn the coat.

Then we collectively bombard some poor patient as one lucky student chosen at random takes their history while another equally lucky student gets to perform a focused physical exam to be scrutinized by their entire group. Some days you can get away with hiding at the back of the mob and avoid getting called on but some tutors make a point of making sure everyone has a chance at embarrassing themselves. Granted, the intent of this exercise is not humiliation but learning in the context of a group for a perfectionist is nothing short of their worst nightmare. Sigh, old habits die hard.

No more American-style political commercials

2008-10-13T23:01:00.004-04:00

On the eve of the federal Canadian election (which has been far less exciting than the activities south of the border), all I can say is that I will be glad to be rid of the lame Conservative commercials that somehow try to extrapolate a link between the current economic crisis and Stephane Dion. Then they smugly declare "Stephane Dion. Not worth the risk". Right...and I really want to take my chances with the alternative.

10km

2008-09-09T22:49:00.003-04:00

After wanting to do it for a really long time, I finally ran 10km today. There was no real build-up (the next longest distance that I had run was 7km) and I haven't been training regularly (hampered in part by the ankle, in part by my motivation). My two best friends in meds were going to run today and I figured "There's only one way to figure out if I can survive something like this". I didn't feel too bad after the run (though there was part of me that wanted to stop partway through) but now I feel totally exhausted and cannot go to bed fast enough.

w00t.

Olympics: NBC, enough of your whining

2008-08-19T23:57:00.003-04:00

It's no secret that I love watching the Olympics. Despite having authored an essay in OAC where I argued that the Olympics were no longer about the athletes but rather, that they had become a platform for commercial and political interests (e.g. the 1980 boycott, the 1972 Munich Massacre, Coca Cola and VISA everywhere), you can't help but get caught up in the stories of how athletes reached this point, the sacrifices they've made, the obstacles they've overcome. I find the successes are just as effective as the disappointing results are in evoking tears. There hasn't been a whole lot that's made me angry or annoyed, save for a few poor instances of judging in gymnastics. However, that was until I decided to watch women's gymnastics on NBC.

Few things are so frustrating as having people express their opinions as though they were fact. I admire their conviction in their beliefs but one must learn to keep this in check when they are being broadcast nationally and quite possibly globally (I do not know how widely NBC is broadcast). The American gymnasts are fantastic, no doubt, but the Chinese gymnasts are also spectacular and getting the commentators (Tim Daggett, Elfi Schegel and Al Trautwig) to acknowledge that almost seems to pain them. In addition to incessantly talking during performances (is silence really such a bad thing?), the commentators brought up the following views:

After a close-up on one of the Chinese athletes who was rumoured to be underage, the commentator said "There is no way that she looks like she's 16." While this is true, this is also the world of "women's" gymnastics where NO ONE really looks their age. Shawn Johnson barely looks like she's 13. This is nothing new.
Discussing the tie between He Kexin and Nastia Liukin on uneven bars (which was eventually settled using some convoluted calculation that decided that He Kexin was the gold medalist), the commentators argued that Liukin was robbed.
I've also lost track of the number of times when an error by an American is "a little misstep" but when a non-American athlete commits the same offense, it is "a huge mistake, that's definitely going to be a deduction. Elfi".

This is just as bad as John McEnroe waxing poetic about Andre Agassi and Andy Roddick during any tennis match where he has been known to have the audacity to not fully credit the talents of others, like Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal...even when they are in the process of royally schooling Roddick. Thank goodness for CBC - while unfortunate that Kyle Shewfelt did not qualify for floor (which he really should have), I've thought he's done really well as a commentator for the men's competition.

Life's Little Ironies

2008-07-11T14:04:00.002-04:00

My school email account was reaching maximum capacity so to inform me, the automated mail administrator sends me not one, not two but FIVE email messages.

Thank you for making the problem that much better.

You might be a freak if...

2008-07-03T01:21:00.003-04:00

...after having a subpar day, the thought of using a new toothbrush and trying new face scrub manages to improve your mood. That being said, it is one of those pro electric toothbrushes and the face scrub smells very spa-like and invigorating.

Fine, I'm still a freak.

My Skewed Perspective of Music

2008-06-30T18:29:00.002-04:00

I was reading the Toronto Star's entertainment section yesterday and apparently Tiesto (whom I love) and Katy Perry (whom I detest) were tied on the Canadian music charts for ninth place. The accompanying article said that it was surprising and I agreed - how could Katy Perry possibly compare to Tiesto? Then they explained that the spike in Tiesto's album sales was attributed to his performance in Toronto tonight.

Oh.

People are stupid...except for the ones that bought Tiesto's album instead of Katy Perry's.

Adventures in Ankle Injuries

2008-06-29T16:16:00.004-04:00

About a month ago, I made my triumphant return to the soccer and field hockey fields. After being a gluttonous slug during exams, I could not wait to get back into sports. The first few games were great - I was definitely not in game shape, but running around and being part of a team felt so good.

This lasted for all of 4 games.

During my second soccer game back, I was trying to take the ball off some guy and he shot the ball. The ball then hit my foot which promptly turned inwards and I was in extreme pain and a couple guys on my team helped me off the field. I stayed off for the rest of the first half, just trying to loosen it up and I went back on in the second half and ran around for the rest of the game. Clearly, I did not take this all that seriously.

Then I drove home and as I got out of the car, I realized that my foot was properly fat. And painful. And I could only limp. I self-diagnosed it as an inversion ankle sprain and determined that it likely wasn't broken so I followed RICE (rest-ice-compression-elevation) and hoped that it would be better in the morning...that was wishful thinking. My parents, in their parental state of worrying, made me see a doctor who told me what I had already figured out.

I took it as easy as I could for a week and then I ventured to the mall to find a dress for Mel's wedding. I was wearing an ankle brace so that my foot had some support since it was pretty unstable and honestly, the looks that I got from people at the mall made it seem like noone had ever hurt their ankle before. Even salespeople would look down at my ankle and not even say hi or ask if I needed help. So rude...

I did find a cute dress and then decided that I was going to wear my strappy heels to the wedding despite the ankle situation. Seriously, of all the decisions I have made in my life, that does not make the top ten of intelligent decisions. However, not too many things can come between a girl and a cute pair of shoes. I danced and then I paid for it the next day...still so worth it though. I'm playing sports again but the ankle isn't 100%. I'm hoping the ankle is back to normal soon...I seriously don't have the patience for recovery.

Facebook, I think I hate you

2008-06-01T23:53:00.003-04:00

About a month and half before exams, I made the decision to take another Facebook hiatus until exams were done. I know I waste a fair bit of time with all the websites that I regularly check and it seemed like the most expendable one so the decision was made. No more Facebook.

To be honest, I may have missed Facebook for a day or two and then it was like I had never known it. Life carried on as usual. It was nice to be done with my morning online routine in less than 10 minutes (check about 4 email accounts, The Toronto Star and BBC) and not get sidetracked with Facebook picture stalking. I would get periodic emails that someone added or tagged me but none of that really triggered the urge in me to start up with Facebook again.

Then noon hit on May 15 and I was given my life back again - exams were done. When I came home, I realized that I was allowed to go back on again and so I logged on. I'm not sure what I was expecting but I thought there would be a little part of me that would be glad to be on again. Sadly (or not...), I was almost let down. Facebook was just as boring, tedious and narcisstic as it was when I stopped checking.

In complete honesty, I think my decision to initially join Facebook was always very reluctant. The last thing I needed was another procrastination mechanism and it just felt very contrived. I already dislike the amount of correspondence that goes on via a computer screen and I didn't want another avenue for that. However, I did finally break down and join when I moved at the end of last summer because I knew I wasn't going to be able to see people on a regular basis. There was also part of me that was curious to see what people from elementary and high school were up to...sigh, the art of Facebook stalking.

I'll admit there are some good things about Facebook - being in the social events loop, reminders about people's birthdays (which is so great when you are slowly going senile) and knowing what happened to your best friend from 4th grade. However, there was a LOT that I didn't like (and still don't)...and I have generated a list of these qualms (in no particular order):

The random applications. Like the OWNED one which says "Hey, I just bought you. Find out how much I think you're worth!" It's like a whole new realm of useless procrastination.
The constant picture posting. I almost long for the days of pre-digital camera era. Sure, sharing photos with friends was a pain and waiting to get prints developed could be agonizing but you were not nearly as likely to take 231 photos during the course of a 4 hour event, all of which are slight variations of each other.
The shallowness of it all. To be honest, while I allegedly have 300-odd friends on Facebook, I still only talk to the ones that I always did. It's nice to reconnect with people but it's still nothing sustainable and doesn't usually last beyond a few messages.
The status messages. Maybe this is just me being a little egocentric but I really don't need a play-by-play on people's daily activities. I just don't care if you're in the Dominican, are writing paragraph 4 of an essay or if your dog peed on your rug. Seriously. It's just too much information.
Random friend add requests. Most requests do I not question - if I can recall who you are and we were on good terms when we last spoke, you're good. However, if we were last in a state of ignoring each other or one of us made the conscious decision to cut the other out of their life, should we really be friends, even if it is only Facebook friendship? This also applies if we see each other on a regular basis and do not acknowledge our mutual existence.

Karma

2008-05-04T02:24:00.003-04:00

Every time I squish or annihilate a bug into oblivion, I can't help but wonder if this is all going to come rushing back to bite me (hopefully not literally) in the future...or maybe that's it? For every bug I kill, I get bit...sort of an eye for an eye? I have never been a fan of centipedes and am quick to vacuum them up (or spray them with poison), but I used to let spiders go because I figured they would get rid of other bugs by eating them (yes, I know centipedes like to eat other bugs including spiders but they are far too gross looking for my liking). That was before I acquired a series of extremely itchy and irritating spider bites. Consequently, I am pretty ruthless with spiders.

Even if I have amassed a good deal of bad karma via bug killing, I do enjoy the concept of karma. If it works out as I understand it to, people will be eventually accountable for their shoddiness. Knowing that what goes around comes around could just be the thing to allow people to relinquish their fierce grip on grudges. Why get mad when you know the universe will do your dirty work for you?

Legg-Calve-Perthes Disease and other instances of narcissism in medicine

2008-04-16T23:48:00.004-04:00

The madness of exams is now on and the upcoming month of studying does not look too promising in terms of fun (infectious diseases, you are the bane of my existence...until I find another topic that is even more irritating to memorize). The task of memorizing endless lists of drug names, microorganisms and diseases is further compounded when dealing with conditions that have been named after the founder of said disease.

I can understand that the process of discovery is accompanied by much hard work and dedication and that if I were in the same position, I may feel inclined to christen the product of these efforts with my name. However, when a condition is named after THREE people (for example, Legg-Calve-Perthes Disease), this trend becomes a little excessive. From a position of practicality, the disease now bears an extremely long name that does little to shed light on the etiology of the condition. I know it would not appear so, but it is easier to remember a name like idiopathic osteonecrosis of the capital femoral epiphysis because it at least offers some insight into the disease instead of a string of three surnames.

My Kind of Fairy Tale

2008-04-09T00:57:00.002-04:00

This comes courtesy of Catherine.

This is the fairy tale that should have been read to us when we were little:

Once upon a time
in a land far away,
a beautiful, independent,
self-assured princess
happened upon a frog as she sat
contemplating ecological issues
on the shores of an unpolluted pond
in a verdant meadow near her castle.

The frog hopped into the princess' lap
and said: "Elegant Lady,
I was once a handsome prince,
until an evil witch cast a spell upon me.
One kiss from you, however,
and I will turn back
into the dapper, young prince that I am
and then, my sweet, we can marry
and set up housekeeping in your castle
with my mother,
where you can prepare my meals,
clean my clothes, bear my children,
and forever feel grateful and happy doing so."

That night,
as the princess dined sumptuously
on lightly sauteed frog legs
seasoned in a white wine
and garlic cream sauce
she chuckled and thought to herself:
I don't fuckin' think so.

You know when you're in med school when...

2008-03-05T09:58:00.003-05:00

...your school, notorious for NEVER having snow days, does miraculously cancel school but students in your class still show up "just in case". Worse yet, the med school decides that you should have class anyway in spite of the unprecedented bad weather.

I am staging a nonviolent protest of this by not going to class.

One Year Ago

2008-02-29T21:11:00.002-05:00

A flock of med school hopefuls heads to Kingston for the first set of interviews this weekend. As I think about it, I can't help but think about being in their shoes a year ago. I remember the anxiety that only seemed to build as the date neared, reviewing my application on the train ride in and having my nervousness override my ability to schmooze at the social events the night before. It's a terrifying time because you feel like so much is at stake during those 40 minutes and you pray that you don't say anything horribly stupid or inarticulate.

It feels a little weird to be on the other side of things, the knowledgeable and friendly first year who seems to be promising you the world if you come here. I was talking to my friend about this en route to the train station where he was picking up a billeter and it dawned on me that people will be looking at me the same way I was looking at first years last year - in complete awe. You look at them for the equivalent of the Caramilk secret so you can be in their shoes in a year.

Periodically, I do have to pinch myself to convince myself that this is all real, but then you realize how much you have changed and grown in a short time frame. My first thought whenever we are given a task is always "There's NO way I can do that!"...and it amazes me when I manage to do the seemingly impossible (most recently, this task was completely a physical exam within the alloted time).

In any case, I am excited for this weekend. I still remember the med that I had a 20 minute conversation with the night before and that discussion definitely helped centre me for the interview. I hope to pay it forward this weekend.

Does this summarize my feelings about Valentine's Day?

2008-02-14T16:21:00.002-05:00

Yesterday I saw a couple engaged in a gratuitous public display of affection outside of a building and I almost threw a snowball at them.

Poo on Winter Weather

2008-02-11T00:37:00.000-05:00

I remember when I first found out that I got into Queen's, one of the things that people tended to bring up were the cold winters. I envisioned arctic tundra and not being able to see 5 feet in front of me because of the blowing snow. In reality, the winter has not been all that much worse than what the rest of Southern Ontario is being bombarded by - strong winds, low temperatures and more-than-ample amounts of snow. I know this because everytime I curse Kingston weather, I have to check what the weather is like in Toronto as a reference point and usually, there is not a huge difference.

However, I've become more aware of the weather because it is beginning to interfer with my studying. My productivity at home is quite limited. I'm good for a few hours before my attention is diverted to more pressing matters, such as making my bed (an hour before I am going to sleep in it) and doing the dishes for the 10th time that day. I went to the library yesterday for about 4 or 5 hours and got through a good amount of material. However, when I got home, I found I was unable to pull myself away from the television, even while watching vile reality television that I will not mention here out of shame. Similarly tonight after soccer, I planned on going to the library once I had dinner and a shower. These plans were derailed when I discovered that it was -24 C (with windchill) and the thought of a 10 minute trek to the library in these conditions no longer seemed appealling...or feasible. My evening was not productive and the downsides of having a television adjacent to my work area are becoming more and more clear everyday.

Coming Home...

2008-01-19T01:23:00.000-05:00

I am working on an assignment for MSK and it is annoying me, hence I am taking a blog break.

Somewhat spur of the moment, I decided that I wanted to be home this weekend and made it happen. I got a new ISIC card and I have to say I look pastier and more tired than I did in my old picture - could med school visibly take its toll in only 5 months? I was showing my picture to Drie and she said that I would likely look really tired whenever I'd be making the trek home so it is an accurate depiction of me. Melissa and I took the train back to Toronto and then I serendipitously ran into Debika at Union Station. She was going my way and we talked it up on the ride home. I did not tell the rents that I was coming home and I would like to think they were pleasantly surprised when I rang them to let them know I was here (and not just surprised and internally thinking "oh crap, she's back").

The last time I took the train home, it was dreary and grey but I was still deliriously happy to see the highrises of Toronto as we approached Union. The weather (at least from the confines of the train) was quite beautiful today and as we were coursing by the lake, the blue sky, clouds and shimmering water reminded me of the cover for the book, "She's Come Undone" (minus the creepy floating head in the sky). Again, almost involuntarily, when I caught sight of the CN Tower, I was borderline giddy.

There is also something oddly comforting about arriving in Union at the peak of rush hour. People milling in and out in every direction with one common goal: to get home ASAP. I never quite get the same sense of bustle and commotion in Kingston...ever. Everytime I experience it, I'm reminded that I really am an urban/suburban girl at heart and that I don't think I could spend an extended period of time in a small town. You can only look at trees for so long.

Rebellion against Spandex

2008-01-15T19:29:00.000-05:00

I don't have cute gym wear. For example, today I was sporting imitation Umbro shorts and a large MSU Olympics t-shirt (and by large, I mean a men's large) as I ran on the treadmill. I don't think I ever quite noticed the absence of spandex in my wardrobe at Mac because the Pulse had rules about everyone wearing a shirt with sleeves. However, now that I frequent the local Goodlife, I see the legions of women around me decked out in spandex and Lululemon...and to be honest, I don't get the point. Not of the point of spandex per se, but the point of spending a lot of money on clothes whose sole destiny is to be sweated in. I frankly do not care about how pretty I look at the gym. I am there to get into shape and if that means it happens in oversized t-shirts and sans make-up*, that's just the way it's going to be.

*Why do people wear make-up to the gym? It will just come off or run and clog your pores...and that is not pretty.

The first week back

2008-01-10T01:03:00.000-05:00

It seems almost surreal that I am as tired as I am on day 3 of this semester. I am planning on blogging and then going to bed because I have precious little energy left. Never before have I started school with a sprint start. We had a quiz on day 2 and have had modules and readings every night. Trying to coordinate burday celebrations and school has not been easy, especially since I was already operating on a sleep deficit that I can attribute to Med Games in Sherbrooke. Med Games were fantastic but I am eagerly awaiting Saturday morning to sleep in.

We have finally entered the realm of "real" medical school and are no longer reviewing obscurities last visited in undergrad. The first unit is musculoskeletal and while it is somewhat intimidating to think through clinical cases and come up with a diagnosis, it is undeniably cool. I feel like this is what I had been waiting when I came to med school, to learn information that is part of a larger picture and be able to use that information. Plus we're working in groups and I have a great group, which makes this an even nicer departure from the never-ending lecturing of first term.

I am now 27 and the burday festivities have been excellent. The number first scared me when I looked at it but seeing people doubletake my age made me feel less conscious about it...it's just a number, right? What really matters is the fact that people still think I'm in my early 20s. :P A group of us went out to dinner and I was positively on cloud nine the whole night. The company was fantastic, the food was splendid and I laughed like mad...unfortunately, there was someone with a laugh louder than mine so I am calling for a laugh-off next year. There's also going to be class-scale going out on Friday night at my favourite (and quite possibly the only) club in Kingston, which should be a promising night.

Oh, and how could I forget? The Toronto Star horoscope for my birthday:

On certain days, toast slips through your fingers and lands butter side down. Other times, you merely think about toast and someone offers you a couple of slices. Reach out for what you want this year. It will land safely on your plate.

Maybe this is the year I become more assertive? Anything is possible.

Sorry Heidi, Iman kicks your bum

2007-12-17T22:19:00.001-05:00

I didn't really ever get hooked onto Project Runway (the American version), but the Canadian version has been strangely addictive. Maybe it was because I caught it from the beginning and I've had a chance to get a sense of the designers' personalities. Maybe it was because I think Iman is pretty awesome. Her acerbic delivery of "You just don't measure up" can only be rivaled by Anne Robinson's catch phrase "You are the weakest link." Or maybe it's because it's because I secretly have a thing for fashion.

I don't follow trends religiously (and find a lot of trends du jour cringe worthy), I find the pretension that accompanies fashion somewhat humourous and I take issue with the prepubescent-boy figure that is considered ideal. However, I have a long-standing jewelry addiction, I revel in finding a great deal and I love anything that is slightly different and unconventional. I spent a good chunk of grade 10 art drawing clothes (although nothing even remotely close to the calibre of Serena) and I do regularly check Fashion Police on E Online, not because I care about celebrities, but because I like looking at clothes. It's art that's functionable...well, maybe not some of the couture stuff, but you can still admire the way that a garment is constructed, the cloth, the lines. It can be frivolous at times, but it is definitely fun.

Thoughts on the eve of the last exam...

2007-12-14T00:23:00.001-05:00

M.D. should stand for "Doctor of Masochism" instead of Doctor of Medicine.

I am at the library with Drie desperately trying to cram information into my head for the short answer exam and I am at a loss about what to do for this last exam. An all-nighter? Get a few hours of sleep? Call it quits and hope for the best? The exam today was a complete and utter bust so I do need to do as well as I can with this last one so option c is out. It's a tie between a and b and I suppose only time (and knowledge) will make the final decision.

There is a beautiful irony in this because we are in a profession where we try to help others have a healthier lifestyle as we progressively destroy our own quality of life. Sleep deprivation, coffee addiction, elevating our cortisol levels to obscene levels with stress and neglecting exercise...are these habits that need to be shared with the world?

I choose "All of the above"

2007-12-11T11:22:00.001-05:00

Okay, so the person that said the hardest thing about medical school would be getting in:

a) was lying
b) was delusional
c) went to a school that gave regularly-scheduled exams and not one monster exam at the end of a 3 month block
d) was way smarter than I
e) All of the above

Our exams start tomorrow and I feel so conflicted in that I want them to be over now but I also want more time to cram random details in my head. I'm trying to think if I ever felt this overwhelmed by the sheer volume of material to be covered on an exam. I counted and we have 12 separate course areas that are showing up on this exam (anatomy, biochemistry, bioethics, cancer, cell biology, genetics, history, medical rounds cases, pathology, pharmacology, physiology - I'm forgetting one off the top of my head).

This is the term to get everyone up to speed but unfortunately, that has been interpreted to mean "memorize useless details about genes proteins that you will seldom use in the future" or "we are going to give you too much information right now, even though we will actually teach it to you again in a context where you will have the knowledge to make sense of it" (cough cough pharmacology). From seeing people in the library, you get the senes that many of us are ready to crack, and for good reason - most of us have been going at this studying for over a month and it's frustrating because in revisiting the material, you realize how little cohesion there is. People from different departments don't talk to each other and this opportunity to create an interdisciplinary approach has been totally squandered (how very un-Mac of them). Well, in 26 hours, I will be writing the first one...here's hoping for non-failure.

The six people you meet in med school

2007-11-21T01:19:00.000-05:00

The six people you meet in med school:

1. The already-overeducated student: Number of letters after this person's name has already surpassed the number of letters in their actual name. Is disenchanted by discovery that their own qualifications surpass those of many people giving lectures. Rolls eyes frequently during lecture covering material that was included in their dissertation.

2. The overly enthused 20 year old: Believes that medical school is another opportunity to party and relive the glory days of undergrad. Is in complete denial of existence of world outside of medical school and their university campus. Can be heard exclaiming that "Med school will be just like high school, but funner!"

3. The world traveller: Has a passport full of stamps and a body full of assorted scars and battle wounds. Has a penchant for interjecting stories about being ravaged by malaria during lectures on parasites and infection. Scoffs at those who consider a spring break trip to Cuba "travel".

4. The student that doesn't know when to stop asking questions: Was the frequent target of dirty looks in large undergraduate classes and is now the target of dirty looks in a much smaller and less anonymous medical school class. Known for their impeccable timing of asking a long-winded question exactly 43 seconds prior to the end of class.

5. The keener: Has determined that life's ambition is to become an interventional cardiologist precisely 3 weeks into medical school. Will spend the next 4 years learning random facts about the heart to "casually" drop during residency interviews. Manages to incorporate love of cardiology into all conversations.

6. The bitter med: Is appalled to find out that the students they will be spending the next 4 years with are not nearly as enlightened and cool as anticipated. Sits at back of class and frequently mutters rude comments. Goals in life now include not punching vacuous people, maintaining a homeostatic state of bitterness and avoiding all social gatherings like the plague.

DISCLAIMER: Any semblance to actual individuals, events or personalities is purely coincidental and unintentional. This is merely a cheap form of therapy for me.

The downside of being a mesomorph...

2007-11-18T11:41:00.000-05:00

Last night, I went to a friend's place where a few of us made dinner together and basically just enjoyed each other's company. Upon departing, I pulled on my Helly Hansen jacket and as I pulled the zipper up, part of the zipper broke off in my hand. I think I spent like 30 seconds just looking at the broken piece of zipper and pondering how I managed to break metal without meaning to. Sadly, I had a similar incident last year when I again broke off the part of the zipper that you pull up and down (and I was not trying to channel He-Man at the time).

To the makers of zippers everywhere: please keep in mind that mesomorphs will be buying your products and that we tend to be stronger than your average ectomorphs and endomorphs...and breaking zippers makes us sad.

Things that are irking me right now...

2007-11-03T13:12:00.001-04:00

...public displays of affection, people making Zoolander model faces in pictures, superficiality, obnoxiousness, judgemental people, being sick, messy apartments, high school drama outside of the high school setting, trying to dance to hip hop and people unwilling to give you the time of day if they don't deem you cool enough.

Enchantee: Musings on being a city slut

2007-10-23T00:50:00.000-04:00

I need to stop falling in love with cities. Honestly, I seem to be taken by whatever city I happen to be visiting...Vancouver, New York, Boston and now Quebec City (and I think I would have fallen in love with Edmonton had I ventured into the city more...although I did manage to fall in love with the U of Alberta campus). I’m here for the Canadian Cardiovascular Congress and there are certainly great forces at work that have conspired to allow me to see the city in all its glory. The weather is fantastic (it was 20 C today) and I love the European feel of the streets and the history that abounds is just wonderful.

And the people! I feel those residing in Quebec are unfairly portrayed as being surly and impolite towards other Canadians, particularly those who cannot speak French or those who mangle French quite badly in their attempts to speak. However, everyone that I have encountered has been exceptionally hospitable, charming and gracious. And I mean everyone. I feel terribly when my extremely limited French vocabulary gets exhausted and then I must revert to English (which typically occurs after “Hello, how are you?”) and I apologize profusely. Have I witnessed the slightest hint of annoyance when this happens? Non! However, after watching television shows dubbed en Francais, I would not blame them for being surly because some of it is badly done (Grey's is just not the same, nor is McDreamy as dreamy).

I was quite bitter in my teenage years because my parents would not let me go on the school trip to Quebec City (although they permitted the rest of my less-mature siblings to make the trek). However, part of me is glad that I visited Quebec when I was older and able to really enjoy the city. Would I have appreciated the cobblestone streets, the warm people and the fantastic history as a 14 year old? Highly indoubitable.

What I do find most entertaining is recalling all of the things that my French teachers in elementary school told me about sights in Quebec, like the breakneck stairs (les Escaliers Casse-Cou), the Chateau Frontenac, the Plains of Abraham (les Plains d'Abraham) and la rue de Tresor. The knowledge is all there in my head, it's just a matter of finding it.

Welcome to Med School

2007-10-03T01:40:00.000-04:00

Note: This is an entry I originally penned at the beginning of September and neglected to post now. Why now? I have no clue, since I feel as busy as I've ever been.

And so week one of med school has passed by...It's funny to want something so badly (like getting into med school) and not have the magnitudge of accomplishing said goal really hit you until you get there. During the welcome lecture, we were told that we were entering the medical profession, whether we liked it or not. That was enough for me to realize, "Crud, what have I gotten myself into?" Fortunately I stuck it out and had a good but exhausting week. We had class by day and orientation activities by night, which left minimal time for settling in and other unimportant matters like sleep. I know the next four years will be crazy and daunting but it feels good to finally be here.

The Way I Are

2007-08-22T23:40:00.000-04:00

Timbaland is the coolest for many reasons. He can pull off grammatically incorrect lyrics with the utmost suaveness. He makes a good song great. And finally, his video for "The Way I Are" includes dudes in dress shirts dribbling a soccer ball. A song that makes me want to dance is good but a song that makes me want to dance AND play soccer is a million times better.

Speaking of soccer, I am going to my first Toronto FC game on Saturday and am uber excited. I'm glad that Toronto has embraced soccer the way that it should...even if they play on turf. I wasn't always anti-turf but I had a game last weekend where we played on it midday and I thought my feet were on fire. It honestly heats up like sand and makes for a less than enjoyable game.

If this entry sounds like I have ADD...you're not too far off. It's just a combination of sleep deprivation and having statistics on the brain. No worries, I plan on sleeping for the next week and half (save for watching movies, packing, SHOPPING and non-educational reading).

Before Gwen became a narcissistic freak

2007-06-21T23:01:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I was at a used CD/DVD/video game store picking up a DVD I had ordered. While perusing the shelves, I spotted a copy of No Doubt's Tragic Kingdom which I originally received on my 16th birthday. To be exact, I received two copies of it and exchanged one for another CD that I can't recall. At some point during my fourth year of undergrad, I misplaced my copy and feared it was lost in the frantic move back home (I had a week to finish my last exam, move out of my place in Hamilton and pack to leave for India for two months). Three years have passed and it was safe to assume that I would never see that copy again. As a result, I picked it up and have been playing it in the car since. It's almost hilarious that I still know every word to every song on that CD and it is just as awesome a decade later. Oh Gwen, how did 'Sunday Morning' give way to 'Hollaback Girl'?

Wow, where did May go?

2007-05-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

I am shocked that May is almost over - it's definitely been a blur of activity. In a nutshell...

The new housemates have moved in and it is so nice to come home and be able to talk to people (Kathy, again you are excluded from my bitter housemate sentiments...miss you!)

I care not to discuss the state of the thesis, which almost seems to be regressing because it is moving so slowly. Three weeks ago, I was prepared to quit the Masters but then realized the futility of such actions, given that I have completed course requirements and about half the thesis. The other half of said thesis will be completed, albeit in conjunction with lots and lots of chocolate.

Soccer and field hockey have become a regular part of my life again, which is an oh-so-needed break from thesis insanity. Plus I enjoy taking out my aggression and competitiveness in a forum where it is deemed socially acceptable.

Priyanka is officially a pharmacist which means...valium for everyone! A grand party was thrown in her honour at which time I was able to reunite with the girls and consume gross quantities of naan and butter chicken.

The last noteworthy thing to mention is that I signed myself up for four more years of school after August...I am going to Queen's for medical school. It's certainly a little surreal and I'm not quite sure it's completely registered in my mind but I am looking forward to finally escaping the Hammer.

C'est tout.

It's almost over...

2007-04-19T01:55:00.000-04:00

At the end of the month, the boys are going to move out and I couldn't be happier. Living with three useless, socially inept, television hogging, inconsiderate boys has not been my idea of a fantastic time. While there was no shortage of ridiculous stories to tell about the aforementioned gentlemen (ha!), there were simply too many instances of needless aggravation to justify such comedy.

I have gotten to a point where it is easier to simply bottle my anger and release at opportune moments, such as kick boxing, rather than exert it towards the intended targets. Take this evening for instance. En route to disposing of compost and recycling, I notice they have taken the liberty of helping themselves to a bottle of Pepsi that I had left in the family room (note: NOT for them). Although my immediate reaction was to burst out in a rage, I put it into different perspective: in 11 days, I will be rid of them. As such, I intend on having quite the run tomorrow with all of this anger inside me.

Also complicating the matter is the possibility that the story of my yelling at my cousin for drinking my pop may find its way to my mother, in which case I would then be the recipient of yelling. The issue is not a bottle of pop, but rather the inconsiderateness of assuming that you may take what is rightfully others without their consent. Of course, that has been the story of the past two years...

I would like to do (in addition to giving the boys a good reaming out) is to ream out their mothers for encouraging such uselessness in their offspring. I often remark that chivalry is dead and that is certainly true in this house. No offers to help carry groceries, no open doors...hell, I am fortunate to receive a grunt in greeting as I enter the house, nevermind anything beyond social norms.

In any case, I have endured the worst of it and it will all be over soon. If there is a lesson to be learned from all of this, it is this: LIVE ALONE (and padlock your food if you live with boys).

Note: Kathy will also be moving out at the end of the month and this brings me great sadness because she is a terrific and wonderful person. She is exempt from any housemate related rants.

Keep in Touch

2007-04-03T22:07:00.000-04:00

To put it succinctly, a lot has been going on though I really don't want to get into what it has been...I am lacking the energy to do so.

Priya and I were talking today and we realized that we had become victims of that mid-20s post-undergrad phenomenon where you don't quite make the effort that you should to see people and keep in touch. There are far too many people that I have simply have not seen in a very long time. It is sad to think that you were once a huge part of each other's lives and now you don't even know what they are doing. Call it my quarter year resolution but I am going to make that extra effort to be in contact with my friends. In the end, the work will always be there but you realize that people may not be.

Long Lost Quote from Luke

2007-02-06T23:46:00.000-05:00

Luke, one of my friends from Shad, wrote this in an email once (Stephen King originally penned this. Who would have expected this from the king - no pun intended - of gory, twisted horror?) It is one of my favourite quotes:

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them - words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they're brought out. But it's more than that, isn't it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you've said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That's the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.

The Capacity to Change

2007-01-23T21:44:00.000-05:00

Events that have recently occurred have given me cause to pause and think (apologies for the rhyme). In both cases, I had dismissed individuals who then came back to surprise me (in a good way). As people in general, we tend to have a rather static view of others. Once people have defined themselves to us in a particular light, they tend to remain that way until something changes. Often when this change is for the worse, it is our cue to dismiss and write them off.

However, what I am coming to discover is that if we leave open the opportunity for people to change, we may actually be pleasantly surprised. Much as we grow as individuals, so too do the people around us and I think it's unfair to think that people won't change given their past actions. Nobody is perfect, we all make mistakes and in many cases, it's worth the effort to make amends. There are so many people embroiled in grudges whose root causes can no longer be identified and at that point, you have to question what it's all worth - grudgery for the sake of grudgery (is that even a word?). I just can't justify staying angry at someone for years when swallowing your pride for a moment and admitting your role in situation would likely bring it to a resolution.

This may be very random and out of left field but it's something that's been on my mind lately and I needed to get it out. I think people can and do change, and we should be open to that possibility. Make what you will out of it.

On Love...

2007-01-14T22:28:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I went to Sarika's mandir for something which can be best described as a hybrid of a puja and bon voyage party. She is travelling to the land of kangaroos, didgeridoos and alarmingly hot accents for two years to complete her Masters. The whole program was truly one of the most beautiful things that I have been witness to in a long time, and I must confess that I teared up on multiple occasions ( I fear I am getting soft in my old age).

The opening scene to Love Actually (a movie I have seen about 100 times) takes place at the arrivals gate at Heathrow International. Hugh Grant's voiceover describes how when the planes hit the WTC towers, the last phone calls that people made were not to tell people that they hated each other but the opposite, to send messages of love. He then says that if you look around, you may find that love actually is all around, and I was reminded of that yesterday. So many came to express their love and well wishes, and I'm a firm believer that we need to do this more often.

And so another birthday passes...

2007-01-12T00:36:00.000-05:00

I am not a high drama person. In fact, I try to stay out of its way as much as I can simply because I don't have the time for it. Nor would I consider myself a diva, although I can be a drama queen when a situation calls for it, or when it is a means to an end. However, I enjoy the attention and that accompanies birthdays. It's the one day a year that is devoted to celebrating you, which is a fun concept in itself. People make a point to call you, they send funny cards and go out of their way to make you happy.

It was my birthday last weekend (on the 7th, to be precise) and it came and went without huge amounts of fanfare. I had a couple soccer games which interferred with the possibility for plans (then again, playing soccer is not a bad way to pass the time) and I wound up consuming a lot of delicious food. Kathy introduced me to the goodness of Popeye's Chicken and I must say I was pleasantly surprised.

I was thinking back to birthdays past and I think this is the first time in about 5 years that I did not have some kind of party on the day. I didn't have the energy to coordinate anything and it still felt too early in the year to really figure things out. I will have to settle for lots of little gatherings that will likely span all of January...and that is a-okay with me.

Grad School: The 5 Stages of Not Being Able to Meet a Deadline

2006-12-30T01:33:00.000-05:00

Stage One: Optimism
The proposed deadline seems more than doable. With this distant goal weeks away, the prospect of completing the project along with daily workouts and maintaining a social life certainly seem feasible. Content with this perfect scenario in your head, you begin work.

Stage Two: Procrastination
Perhaps it is not procrastination so much as it is a noncommittal work ethic. The proposed 8 hours of work each day to be devoted to your project is whittled down to 3 hours once you account for sleeping in, catching up with friends over coffee and taking extra long lunches. After all, you are worth it. In spite of this, the deadline is still very much in reach.

Stage Three: Delusion
You begin to propose solutions to the ensuing deadline such as "Well, if I don't sleep at all this week and I perform a complete literature in a day for each topic, I should be able to get it done in time". Believe it or not, this actually seems feasible to you and so you attempt work according to this irrational plan.

Stage Four: Panic
About 4 days before the deadline, you realize that you are going to have to work at twice the speed to get your work done in time. Showering and personal hygiene become a luxury, meals are only feasible if they can fit onto the 4 square inches of room you have remaining on your desk and pajamas are worn around the clock. Occurrences like your internet cutting out are now cause for a meltdown.

Stage Five: Acceptance
A day or two before the deadline, you have accepted that your fate is sealed. This is one deadline that you cannot make and that's simply the reality of the situation. So what if your supervisor finds you grossly incompetent and consequently drops you? It does not matter at this point. Knowing that you no longer need to work like a mad person and further deprive yourself of sleep, you resolve to clean your room and tend to all those tasks that you let slide while in your panic...like bathing.

To Raid Carrie Bradshaw's Shoe Collection

2006-12-12T23:16:00.000-05:00

There is a formal coming up this Friday and I came to the realization that I have no dress shoes. Okay, I have one pair of not overly versatile wedges but I demolished my strappy heels over the summer, which are oddly my only other pair of dress shoes. I have 3 pairs of running shoes, 2 pairs of soccer shoes, a few pairs of casual shoes, sandals, a pair of boots, but no cute heels appropriate for a formal. I went to Winners and Limeridge on Sunday in the hopes of finding a new pair but alas, my efforts were thwarted. There are far easier things to do than find a decent pair of shoes for a wide size 10 foot with high arches...like cure cancer. I am returning to Limeridge tomorrow in the hopes that I discover something. Otherwise, I will sport my Havaianas to the big night.

The Encroachment of Celebrity Culture

2006-12-10T00:02:00.000-05:00

Quite frankly, I could care less about the fate of Kevin Federline (or FedEx as he is now being referred to) when I have a thesis to write. However, it's becoming harder and harder to avoid celebrity news. Initially confined to shows and websites dedicated to the celeb-obsessed, news of TomKat, Brangelina and Bennifer is now readily available on reputable news sources, including my beloved BBC. I remember when the entertainment section of the news was devoted to movie reviews and information on the musicals in town instead of a play-by-play of the demise of Reese and Ryan.

In retracing my steps, I think it was my love of E Online's Fashion Police that was my gateway into celebrity culture. I've always had a love for clothes (as my sketchbooks from high school will attest to) and I didn't even care that celebrities were wearing the clothes, just that the clothes were really neat (or hideously ugly). A few clicks on other links on the site and suddenly I found myself with more knowledge that I cared to know.

It would be difficult to really parody the current state of our celebrity obsessed culture because it has already reached an extreme level of ridiculousness that is in itself humourous. I don't care that Lindsay Lohan parties too much, that Lance Armstrong and Matthew McConaughey are best friends or that Kate Beckinsale likes to have phone sex. All of this falls into the category of "information that I could live a fulfilling life without". And yet, this is all information that is taking up valuable space in my head.

Let's not overestimate the influence of celebrities on my life. I will always eat real food (carbs are necessary to living a fulfilling life), I don't plan on having any quickie marriages to friends from high school and rest assured, I will always wear underwear. Even in the off-chance that I decide to start wearing miniskirts (which incidentally do not mesh very well with soccer thighs).

It was being overwhelmed by this bizarre phenomenon that has led me to boycott celebrity news. I was never a fan of shows like Entertainment Tonight or Access Hollywood, but I find I have to quickly turn off the news to avoid hearing about inane nonsense. Also, I find reading the Toronto Star online takes about half the time now that I am bypassing the entertainment section. I wish I could say that I am spending my newfound free time on important matters but that will be a job for my New Year's resolutions.

The Modern Woman: Smart but Stupid?

2006-12-04T23:25:00.000-05:00

This was the conundrum I was pondering last week after watching The Devil Wears Prada. The main character, Andie, turns down law school to pursue a career in journalism. Journalism translates into a job as an assistant to Miranda Priestly, editor of Runway magazine. Andie then proceeds to bumble her way through the job for the remainder of the movie, regaining some semblance of intelligence at the end by quitting.

Now I realize that this is a comedic movie and it does require some suspension of belief to be fully appreciated. However, it requires a quantum leap larger than I am willing to make to believe that a smart woman could be such a tool in all facets of her life. I know even the best of us made stupid decisions but there comes a point when you ponder whether you only got through your undergraduate education by copying off the smart kids.

Another classic example of this is Meredith on Grey's Anatomy. Dilia and I (may her blog rest in peace) had an extensive discussion about the apparently magnetic attraction that virtually every male at Seattle Grace Hospitals feels towards Meredith. She's a surgical intern who seemingly always has the answers to questions that are flung at her by her superiors but I'd be surprised if she could find her way out of a paper bag. Her middle names could be egocentric and clueless, and perhaps there is something magnetic about her personality that is not conveyed to the average cynical viewer. It's just truly sad that these are media representations of smart women - can't we do better than this?

Sunday Mornings

2006-12-03T11:10:00.000-05:00

It is scarcely 11am and I feel like the vibe of this Sunday has already been compromised. I've played a game of soccer (sadly in a 2-1 losing cause) and have not yet had breakfast, which both feel very out of place. Sunday mornings have their own distinct routine. You wake up late, have an indulgent breakfast and you move in slow motion. If you're lucky, this all takes place while a good movie is on tv (some favourites: Save the last dance, Serendipity, Brat Pack movies). I feel at a loss as to how to proceed but I figure that breakfast is a good place to start.

For the first time in a long time

2006-11-18T15:54:00.001-05:00

I frequented the gym today for the first time since about, oh, late August. There were multiple factors contributing to this prolonged absence and I finally reached a point where I realized I could no longer allow my physique (or lack thereof) to continue deteriorating. Perhaps the beginning of indoor soccer and field hockey seasons was a motivating factor but I think I had enough of my sedentary lifestyle.

All I can say is how disappointing it is that 2 years of working out can be nullified by a 3 month sabbatical from the gym. The cardio has always been a little troublesome but I could only do half the number of reps that I usually do. I know the first couple weeks will be painful but it's good to be back.

From the West Coast to the East Coast to No Coast?

2006-11-06T22:18:00.000-05:00

Well, it has been far too long since my last entry and I even think I was going through some form of creative withdrawl since it has been so long that I've written something not involving the phrase "cardiovascular disease". Well, I recently experienced a short-lived existence as a jet-setter, going to Vancouver for the Canadian Cardiovascular Congress and then to New York City with some of my high school friends. I fell in love with both cities for very different reasons and coming back to Hamilton has not exactly been the funnest transition.

I was going to blog about the randomness of the world today (such as news that some lunatic wanted to assassinate Hilary Duff) but instead, I will conclude this entry with the top 10 things that I liked about Vancouver and NYC.

Why Vancouver is possibly the greatest Canadian city
(I cannot make this statement definitively until I visit Montreal)

Waking up and seeing mountains
Waking up and seeing ocean...lots of it
The fact that very cool people (like Liz and Sarah) happen to reside there
West Coast cuisine - brie, chicken and apple are the greatest things to happen to ciabatta buns in a long time
Blenz coffee - you may be pricey but you are oh so good
The Aquarium - nothing makes you feel quite like you are 5 years old again than getting excited at the sight of sea otters.
The Skytrain - it's the subway that thinks it's an, er, skytrain
The chill, friendly vibe that everyone who lives there can't help but exude
Stanley Park - I am convinced obesity rates would plummet if every city could have a Stanley Park because you can't help but want to walk around
Robson Street - Picking a hotel that was on this street of endless shopping possibilities was arguably the smartest thing that I've done in awhile

My favourite (note the non-Yankee spelling) things about NYC

The vast availability of pretzel vendors (Toronto, take note)
Magnolia cupcakes, which are possibly the greatest cupcakes money can buy
Rice to Riches, a place that serves rice pudding ALL of the time
The amazing shopping - Macy's and Century 21, my wallet is not the same for having known you
The Carnegie Deli, home of the largest sandwiches known to man...at least, in my humble opinion
The museum giant known as the Met
The joy of experiencing the Olive Garden again
Central Park - there is nothing more simultaneously random and wonderful than having a giant park situated amidst the chaos of the city that never sleeps
FAO Schwarz - it really was everything I dreamed of
Seeing it for the first time with 3 great friends :)

I do have a funny story to part on about New York. We were going to see a taping of Regis and Kelly, which we were all excited about. This was true despite the fact that Claudia Cohen was going to be on the show (I had no idea who she was either, but apparently she is a gossip columnist and the most noteworthy thing she has done was getting $80 million in a divorce). We went to bed early and woke up at 6am, each adhering to a rigid 15 minute shower schedule. We made it to the studio with enough time to hit up Starbucks (incidentally, I missed Tim Horton's terribly while in NYC - American hot chocolate standards are not up to par).

Imagine our collective shock and horror upon discovering the show had been cancelled that day. Apparently, Madonna was supposed to be on the show (!) but she couldn't make it that day so they cancelled and re-scheduled for the following day. Unfortunately, we had to jet back to JFK so we could not make it. On the plus side, the next time we go to NYC, we have guaranteed tickets to Regis and Kelly...and hopefully Claudia Cohen will not be there.

"Quit being a halfwit, halfwit"*

2006-10-17T01:07:00.000-04:00

I move that participation marks be renamed as "one's desire to hear one's own voice" marks. I was in tutorial today and I was quite appalled at the way some people think it is acceptable to railroad and talk over others. They just talk and talk and talk, regardless of whether others demonstrate the slightest bit of receptiveness towards them. Personally, I have found participation marks to be the bane of my existence since entering graduate school. I just find it ridiculous that I am marked for my attentiveness in the morning. I'm sorry if I am not enamoured by the words that come out of my mouth like some of my chatty colleagues. One can't help but feel like an overeager dog wanting a treat (aka marks) for doing a trick (aka talking). At least this is my last grad school course (woo!) and then I can devote all my time to something fun, like my thesis...er, yes, thesis...

*This message has been approved by Tricia who can attest to numerous such incidences of halfwittedness in various tutorials. Hey, after 6 years of inquiry and PBL, you'd be a little ticked off too.

Signs of My Mortality

2006-10-13T01:28:00.000-04:00

I was over at Chez Tricia for Louise's birthday celebration this evening and I became aware that I am not quite as young as I once was. We feasted on not one but two cakes and pina colodas. Needless to say, I am still reeling in shock from the sugar overdose and induced nausea. I remember back in the day when I could down a hot chocolate with a candy bar and not be fazed at all. However, I now suspect my pancreas are two seconds away from jumping ship if they are subject to any more sugar antics.

For me, myself and I?

2006-10-12T00:09:00.000-04:00

One morning on my way to school, I discovered that a bus shelter advertisement near my house had changed. It now featured a grinning woman with the words "For me, myself and I". I was intrigued as to what empowering experience this very happy woman had undertaken. As I walked closer, I found my answer:

Botox.

I should have known, right? Let's not make an actual life altering decision like resolving to treat yourself better or doing something good for humankind. Instead, let's shoot our foreheads up with botulinum! What could be more fun?

I still can't fully understand society's preoccupation with youth. Do most people remember what they were like when they were young? In most cases, the reality is that they were foolish and dumb. Why would you want to relive that chapter of your life? As for help in the love department, when people who are gorgeous get cheated on all the time, beauty alone does not appear to be a predictor of success. Why can't we just be proud of every scar and wrinkle that we have and accept them as what they are - signs of a life well-lived. I can trace back many a soccer experience simply by looking at my legs which bear multiple scars of different sizes and shapes. The ambition of wanting to look like a 20 year old after 60 years of walking this earth is a little absurd.

Besides, the idea of not being able to wrinkle my forehead freaks me out a little. How does one emote shock, fear, anger and happiness without all those muscles? Frankly, it's a little amusing to see people who have been botoxed talk because only their mouths move.

Eating my words

2006-10-04T21:14:00.000-04:00

I posted earlier about how I didn't think that Entourage lived up to its hype. However, I think it is only fair to issue a retraction as I have managed to watch all 3 seasons of it over the course of a month and half. I completely got sucked into it and have now compiled a list of reasons why I think the show is so good:

On the surface, the boys have cockiness to spare. However, looking beneath that, they all have their insecurities which do eventually emerge. There's something about the fact that they don't really buy into their own hype which makes them that much more compelling.
The show is FUNNY. Some of the lines that the characters break out are hilarious ("Let's hug it out, bitch") and the dialogue back and forth is razor sharp.
The music choices are dead on. There's a balance of mainstream and low-key artists (as in, I've never heard of before), and it all just seems perfect in the way that it is used. It ranks up there with Grey's Anatomy for under the radar musicians who are awesome.
The show is not stagnant. Unlike your classic soap opera, story lines aren't played to death. Characters don't make up and break up and make up and break up (hello, OC?). Stuff happens and everyone moves on.

Let the mom and pop stores reign victorious

2006-09-24T22:58:00.000-04:00

Lately, I have been in a pensive mood, questioning everything. Capitalism has fallen prey to my thinking warpath and hence will be the topic of discussion for today. For the past year, I have been participating in more retail therapy than I think I ever have in my life. This was, in part, a consequence of not having to worry about money the way I did as an undergrad and I reached a point where I hadn't updated much of my wardrobe in awhile. So I went shopping. It's funny how it gradually became this unconscious process where I would buy and it's only been a recent development where I think twice about whether I really need something or whether it's being bought because it's what you do when you're in a store. I've been participating in a lot of consumerism for the sake of consumerism, which is beginning to feel excessive and wasteful. This is not to say that I won't buy anything ever again or that I will start sporting a paper bag instead of clothes but that I think I will be giving the debit card a bit of a vacation.

As well, I think the demise of independent stores is quite sad. I realize that this is what capitalism is all about but it doesn't make it right. There's a new place in Westdale called the Cereal House and it has become my new favourite study place. I can't even begin to explain the overwhelming cuteness of this place. The concept is wonderfully simple (cereal ALL the time), it feels like a kitchen and the owners are exceptionally hospitable. Business appears to be slow (as I suspect it usually is for most new businesses at this point in time) but I really hope that it does become a permanent fixture in the neighbourhood and holds its own against the coffee giants.

Murphy's Law in Action

2006-09-21T00:01:00.000-04:00

Dearest Blog Readers (all 5 of you),

My apologies for my current blog shoddiness. The new school year has brought with it a whole slew of work that I am working through but I should be back to ranting about life on a semi-regular basis soon enough.

I had a case of Murphy's Law yesterday where everything that was going to go wrong did - allow me to elaborate. I needed to drop off forms for my supervisor and while her assistant is at the university on Mondays, for the rest of the week, she is at the hospital across town. I had to get back for a lunch date with some friends so I opted to drive since the prospect of taking 4 buses to make the round trip sounded neither fun nor time efficient. As I sped along, traffic was moving well and I made it in good time.

That should have been my first sign that things were going a little too well.

Typically, there is much metered parking available on the roads around the hospital. That was not the case on this day where every meter was occupied and the cars were lined up bumper to bumper. Not convinced that I could go about my business in under 15 minutes (in which case I could have parked in emergency parking), I bit the bullet and parked in the garage for the price of a tea and cookie. I was definitely not impressed at this point but you accept what you must do.

I went up to the office of my supervisor's assistant, only to find the office empty. After asking around, it turns out that she was at the university all week. In the building that is adjacent to mine. Which is, on a bad day, a 5 minute trek. These are the moments in life where one is tempted to give the closest wall a solid kick and deal with the repercussions later (such as a broken foot). However, being locked up in a psych ward or arrested was not on my schedule so I proceeded back to school where I indulged in some fries and the world looked a little better after that.

Or you could just get sweaty while you get fit?

2006-09-04T18:02:00.000-04:00

I do believe it is time for my monthly feminist rant. While I only seem to be devoted to reading Jane lately (and even that is waning with their sketchy choices of cover models), I wind up reading Glow (the Shoppers Drug Mart mag) every month because my sister gets it delivered every month and as is the case in most sisterly relationships, what is hers is also mine. It's typically not a very demeaning magazine, but I certainly took offense to, of all things, a fitness article.

Entitled "Exercise is hot: Get sexy while you get fit", it described several ways to get into shape, such as pole dancing, strip aerobics and lap dancing (all within the confines of an aerobics room). The article also provided a few exercises to be performed "slowly with flirty exaggeration" with titles such as cat crawl and sexy wall slide.

Now, as a female that considers herself to be fairly athletic, I found this to be an insulting solution to being bored with your current workout. The illustrations for the aforementioned activities feature a cartoon woman wearing knee high boots and a ridiculously short skirt. Personally, I've found something liberating about going to the gym in my huge t-shirt with no makeup and having a long workout that doesn't involve a pole. Looking cute or sexy ranks pretty low on my list of gym-related priorities. Any time that I could potentially spend trying to look cute would be better spent lifting weights.

Is this boom of sexy exercise classes a result of the continued over-sexification of our culture? There not only seems to be a mainstream acceptance of this, but it's seen as empowering and a way of expressing one's sexuality. My issue with this is that it's a very contrived, narrow notion of what sexy is. It is vastly broader and more complex than pole dancing or stripping. Why can't a girl kicking butt on a soccer field be seen as sexy?

A few years ago, the president of FIFA, Sepp Blatter, made a comment that women's soccer could attract more sponsors by wearing sexier uniforms. Rightfully so, there was a backlash to such an idiotic suggestion being made by someone who is in a position of power and influence (although his credibility is certainly jeopardized by his comments). It's not enough to just be a world class female athlete - you have to be a sexy world class athlete and there's no other way that you could be perceived as such without Daisy Duke shorts.

Corpulent fools

2006-09-02T00:20:00.001-04:00

Instead of being a big "going out" night, Friday evenings have become my chill time, whether that means watching a movie, reading a book or even playing Scrabble with my little sister. Going out is just more fun when I'm not so wholly sleep deprived.

In any case, I was looking forward to a relaxing evening. I had gone to the drugstore with my sister and we were returning on our way when we were stopped at an intersection. Having been brainwashed by Young Drivers and their approach to driving, I find I am almost obsessive compulsively checking my mirrors (this is about 9 years after lessons). Everytime I check my rearview to see someone yakking on a cell phone, my blood pressure rises a little because I am paranoid that they are going to be too wrapped up in a conversation and hit me. This was the case today as the dude behind me was talking away and not even looking up. The light changed and I inched forward a little and then stopped because the rest of the traffic hadn't moved yet. Unfortunately, cell phone guy did not stop and he consequently hit me.

He wasn't moving very quickly (only about 10-20 kph) but the impact was still enough to cause me to scream an expletive (when I later apologized to my sister for corrupting her ears, she said it was so loud, she didn't actually know what I yelled). Upon surveying the damage, I discovered his car got it worse than mine did - he cut up my bumper a bit but one of his front lights was smashed, which was a bit of an affirmation that the universe does work as it should (although in my version of the universe, safe non-cell phone talking people should not get hit). This is also my plug for the not-so-massive SUVs - chances are that the damage would have been worse if I was driving a lower car.

He apologized and we exchanged insurance information. I was writing down his license plate number and car model when I asked for his name. When he gave it, I had to fight the urge to smirk. It turns out he actually went to my high school, albeit as one of its less productive members. And by less productive, I mean the extent of what he accomplished during the average day was getting high and/or dealing. Is it evident how impressed I was at this point?

Anyway, we drove away and the most frustrating thing was that as I (compulsively) checked my rearview, he was STILL talking on his stupid phone. Why do some people never learn? Oh wait, I believe it's because PEOPLE ARE STUPID...corpulent fools.

Entourage

2006-08-31T23:37:00.000-04:00

The commercials advertising the arrival of the show Entourage to City-TV this fall piqued my interest enough for me to download a few episodes. It had been billed by many as a "male" version of Sex and the City (possibly because they are both HBO shows) but that comment alone was enough for me to give Entourage a look, given my long-standing addiction to SATC.

Where to start with what is wrong with this comparison? Admittedly, both shows feature 4 main protagonists but that is where the similarities end.

While the women of SATC were savvy, sophisticated, smart and successful, the boys (deliberate avoidance of the term men) of Entourage are crude, uncultured and lacking in the intellect department.

There is nothing glamourous about the existence of a pretty-boy actor, his egomanical brother and their tag-along friends (one of whom acts as a manager and I have no clue what the other is responsible for, aside from being an idiot). They wake up, hit on girls, eat, hit on girls, spend money on something ridiculously extravagant (example: a $300 000 car), hit on girls and in the end, only the actor (played by Adrian Grenier) seems to be successful in his pick-up attempts. I should hope that guys don't aspire to emulate this lifestyle, like it seemed many women wanted to when it came to Manolo Blahniks, cosmopolitans and fabulous jewelry.

Given such unrelatable characters, why is it that I continue to download episodes? Although the show lacks the quotability of SATC, there is something undeniably compelling about watching a group of guys being doofuses. Maybe it's the promise of the next idiot act being even more stupid than the previous one that keeps me watching. Or perhaps that it's just a novel experience as most of my male friends aren't complete idiots. In any case, I have a feeling that I'll continue watching until this novelty gets old.

But what about spoiled milk?

2006-08-30T00:53:00.000-04:00

The saying goes "there's no use crying over spilt milk" but I wonder if it extends to spoiled milk as well. This morning I made some tea to bring with me to the office (Tetley's vanilla earl grey is my latest obsession) and as soon as I poured the milk into my travel mug, I knew something was amiss. The sweet smell of vanilla was quickly overshadowed by this faintly rancid smell and off went the contents of my tea down the drain. I had a similar experience a few weeks ago except the milk curdled upon impact (now that was fun). I find during the summer my milk consumption declines, which may account for the milk going bad before I have a chance to drink it. However, it is quite disheartening when you opt to make yourself some tea instead of buying it and all that effort is for naught. Admittedly, it's really not that much work boiling water, plunking in a tea bag and then adding milk, but it's the thought that counts.

I am off to rehearse a presentation for tomorrow and in the classic way that things tend to unfold, I wound up having to make half of the presentation today. For once, it was not a result of my chronic procrastination (although blogging at this hour in lieu of practicing most certainly is). I was under the impression I would be presenting research that I already had presented and hence had a wonderful little PowerPoint presentation all ready. However, I discovered this morning that my supervisor wanted me to present on my (non-existent) thesis, sending me into coronary arrest. However, we struck a compromise (or rather, she told me) that I could present both, albeit very briefly in the most general of terms. It seems that our local member of parliament is visiting the research group tomorrow to learn about the kind of research he (and the government) are funding. The plan is to not make a fool out of myself. Stay tuned for the report on how that goes.

Single

2006-08-24T20:03:00.000-04:00

Amidst the plethora of codependence anthems, Natasha Bedingfield has managed to coin a song that does not belittle single people. She celebrates it as a desirable state of being instead of a transition state to coupledom (to borrow an analogy from chemistry).

To fully grasp the magnitude of this achievement, note that 9 out of 10 songs (a statistic I have fabricated on the spot), either lament wanting to be in love, being in love, falling out of love or wishing to seek revenge on a formerly loved one. I'm not saying that being in love is an undesirable state, but that being single should not be equated with a jail sentence or the like. It's okay to just be and not necessarily as part of a "we".

Without further adieu, some of my favourite lyrics (reading an entire line of "Oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh" is less fun than listening to it):

I'm not waitin' around for a man to save me
(Cause I'm happy where I am)
Don't depend on a guy to validate me
(No no)
I don't need to be anyone's baby
(Is that so hard to understand?)
No I don't need another half to make me whole

Make your move if you want
Doesn't mean I will or won't
I'm free to make my mind up
You either got it or you don't

This is my current single status
My declaration of independence
There's no way I'm tradin' places
Right now a star's in the ascendant

Don't need to be on somebody's arm to look good
(I like who I am)
I'm not saying I don't wanna fall in love 'cause I would
I'm not gonna get hooked up just 'cause you say I should
(Can't romance on demand)
I'm gonna wait so I'm sorry if you misunderstood

Everything in it's right time everything in its right place
I know I'll settle down one day
But 'til then I like it this way, it's my way
Eh I like it this way

Make your move if you want doesn't mean I will or won't
I'm free to make my mind up you either got it or you don't
'Til then I'm single

This is my current single status
My declaration of independence
There's no way I'm tradin' places
Right now a star's in the ascendant

On optimism

2006-08-21T22:12:00.000-04:00

Is it harder to be an optimist as you get older?

This is a question I've been wrestling with for the past couple of weeks after realizing certain ugly truths about life. It feels as those of us with even the sunniest of dispositions are not immune to the constant disillusionment that accompanies becoming an adult. Life sometimes feels like one long string of disappointments, beginning with the discovery that Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy are just as ficticious as the Smurfs.

I'm not sure how this has happened. Did we simply have expectations that were too high for their own good or were we simply unrealistic? I'm beginning to think that earlier optimism was nothing more than ignorance masquerading as idealism. We were blissful ostriches with our heads in the sand, oblivious to the truths of life until one day, we couldn't hide from what was looking us straight in the face.

Or maybe I'm just having a bad day. Qui sait?

The end of the affair

2006-08-12T10:47:00.000-04:00

It was during first year of undergrad that we had our first encounter and I could see that this would be nothing but trouble. For someone who was already quite proficient in the art of procrastination, this new relationship would only exacerbate the problem of trying to keep on task. And so the love-hate relationship endured strong for 6 years despite my best attempts to stop it. It just had too strong a hold on me.

However, I've found over the past few months, things just haven't been the same. I could feel myself getting distant, drifting apart. I realized where this was headed and am finding it harder to figure out how to coexist. I think I've slowly come to the realization that this just wasn't meant to be.

I think I am over MSN.

I just can't commit to leading six heartfelt, meaningful conversations at a time. I am not always here "online" when my status would suggest otherwise. Sometimes I wander around the house or decide to investigate sounds around the house (I'll expand on this later) or go on an impromptu run. These things happen. I'm sick of people announcing the biggest events in their life through their long-winded MSN name. And frankly, instant message tag is no more fun than playing answering machine tag.

I acknowledge that MSN is a good way to occassionally touch base with people who live far away, like BC or Saskatchewan, or people that you haven't talked to in awhile. However, if I see you everyday, must we spend numerous hours frantically typing back and forth? I'm not much for phone communication and I am going to lump in instant messaging in with that. What ever happened to face-to-face interactions?

One of the downsides of grad school is spending copious hours in front of a computer and when I come home, I'd prefer not to spend even more time camped out with the pc. Plus, as much as I initially denied it in my foolish youth, multi-tasking actually does make you less productive. How do you write an essay while talking to someone on MSN? I'm still surprised IM abbreviations haven't inadvertantly made their way into my english essays.

I am still not sure whether I am ready to completely pull the plug on this or continue scaling back as I have been doing. All I know is that I am no longer as head over heels in love as I once was.

My fear was not unfounded

2006-08-10T01:01:00.000-04:00

Now, THIS is what I was freaked out over when I was cohabiting with the bat (courtesy of the Toronto Star):

Rabid bat found in baby's room

Infant getting shots as preventative measure

Aug. 9, 2006. 09:02 PM

GAIL SWAINSON

STAFF REPORTER

An 11-month-old Newmarket girl is receiving rabies shots after a rabid bat was discovered Friday in her bedroom by her frantic mother.

“The central message here is that you can be bitten by a bat while you are sleeping and not know it,” Margaret McCaffery, with York Region’s health unit, said yesterday.

McCaffery said their teeth marks are virtually undetectable, so anyone who awakens in a room with a bat, should assume they have been bit and immediately contact their family doctor and the local health unit.

The infant, who has not been identified by health unit officials, is undergoing a series of five shots, spaced several days apart, as a preventative measure.

McCaffery said any danger of such a young child receiving the shots is outweighed by the seriousness of contracting rabies, a deadly disease.

“There is always a small risk with these shots, but once you get symptoms, shots are no longer affective,” she added.

The bat was caught in the home and sent on Friday to the Canadian Food Inspection Agency, which sent it to a lab in Ottawa.

The results, which confirmed the rabies diagnosis, were received Saturday.

The family was immediately notified and the child, who was already under a doctor’s care, began receiving shots soon after, McCaffery said.

This is the second rabid bat reported in York region so far this year. The first was found in the late spring, also in Newmarket.

In 2005, four rabid bats were found in York Region, five in 2004. Anyone in contact with them at the time also underwent preventative rabies treatment, McCaffery said.

“Every year, we treat numerous people with the rabies vaccine,” she added.

Rabies is a viral infection transmitted in the saliva of infected animals. The virus enters the central nervous system toward the spinal cord and the brain, where it multiplies and travels through the nerves to most parts of the body.

Rabies symptoms develop about 3-8 weeks after exposure, and by then there is no treatment. Death almost always follows within 2 to 6 days.

Some 20 people have died of the disease in Canada since 1925, including a BC man in 2003 and a nine-year-old Quebec boy, who was bitten by a bat at camp, in 2002.

The mutilation of my name

2006-08-08T22:56:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I feel as though I have sufficient material to write a book on how my name has been horribly and terribly butchered. Having a name that is less than common in Canada has resulted in numerous mispronounciations (47 at my last count), all beginning with the fateful day that I stepped into my kindergarten classroom. Everything seems to have stemmed from that first teacher being unable to say my name (which, when pronounced properly, I do enjoy) and it started off two decades of principals, teachers and students unable to really say my name the way it was meant to be said.

This led to the anglacisation of my name and many nicknames that try to make life easier for everyone else. However, lost in that is the fact that most people identify me by a name that is not the one my parents bestowed upon me and still gets confused for "Amanda" in spite of the anglacisation. Sometimes, this gets confusing, particularly when I am introducing myself to someone of Indian descent who can say my name properly - I typically wind up giving them both versions. My elation in India bordered on humourous when I introduced myself to random people and they could pronounce my name properly.

In spite of the griping, I think I have accepted that people will verbally mutilate my name. What is harder to come to terms with is when people mangle my name when they write it out (particularly when they have access to the proper spelling). Most recently, I noticed my name was mispelt quite terribly on my research group's website, my supervisor's website and one of the people in my research group has decided to throw an extra r into my name when corresponding via email (in spite of the fact that there are no r sounds when she says my name). I really just don't get it - is it just laziness/carelessness?

Female Chauvinist Pigs

2006-07-30T13:12:00.000-04:00

When was the last time you went to a bar and two straight guys started making out to impress a group of girls? On that same note, when was the last time a male Olympic silver medalist in high jump felt the need to strip down in a women's magazine to prove they were sexy?

I initially thought I could attribute all of my feelings of disgust with popular culture to the fact that I was getting older and it was merely a by-product of a burgeoning generational gap. I just didn't understand why 10 year olds were buying thongs and no female recording artist could appear in a music video fully clothed and why anyone in their right mind would aspire to be one of Hugh Hefner's seven girlfriends.

After I read "Female Chauvinist Pigs" by Ariel Levy, I felt a little better. I wasn't two steps away from referring to the younger generation as "young'ins" or "whipper snappers" - there is legitimately something wrong with this trend of raunch culture. The author was on Oprah's "stupid girls" show and I think I went out right away to get the book from the library.

Levy states that men who treated women as sex objects were called chauvinists and it eventually became unacceptable to refer to women in such derogatory terms. However, there has been a new misguided wave where women, in an attempt at equality and being "one of the guys", have become so good at objectifying themselves and other women that it would be appropriate to now refer to them as female chauvinist pigs (or FCPs). A consequence of this deluded thinking is that women only think they can achieve equality by acting like men and not being feminine.

At the risk of going on and on about this book (which I could easily do because I think Levy brings up several interesting points), I would recommend it to anyone who considers themself a feminist or who is disgusted with the fact that a sex tape launched Paris Hilton's career (if you could really call it a career) or thinks that Hugh Hefner is a dirty old man. If you think I am being a little hard on Hugh, you may understand my point of view a bit better by this quote that was in the book (taken from an interview Hef had with Oriana Fallaci in 1967) on why he chose the bunny as the Playboy symbol:

"The rabbit, the bunny, in America has a sexual meaning, and I chose it because it's a fresh animal, shy, vivacious, jumping - sexy. First it smells you, then it escapes, then it comes back, and you feel like caressing it, playing with it. A girl resembles a bunny. Joyful, joking. Consider the kind of girl that we made popular: the Playmate of the Month. She is never sophisticated, a girl you cannot really have. She is a young, healthy, simple girl - the girl next door...we are not interested in the mysterious, difficult woman, the femme fatale, who wears elegant underwear, with lace, and she is sad, and somehow mentally filthy. The Playboy girl has no lace, no underwear, she is naked, well-washed with soap and water, and she is happy."

In my books, that quote alone makes him the scum of the universe.