iHappy...Wait Maybe iNot...

Well, I did it. This Mac girl finally jumped on the iPad bandwagon and I am blogging from it right now. My new black, sleek, user friendly iPad is my new best friend (sorry A!). This little rectangle that is only a pound or two is replacing 3 of my 4 MASSIVE science textbooks, you know the ones that weight five hundred pounds that you must lift with your legs or you'll throw your back out? Instead of those ungodly books I just download them into this great little box, and stuff it into my purse before walking out the door. And just like hardcopy books I can still highlight and annotate right in the text. Plus I can search the text for specific words, phrases, or annotations!

Better yet, with the apps available I can use this as my notebook. I can take notes that sync up the recordings of my professors,lectures so that when I click on a section of my notes I have the option of playing the portion of the lecture that was recorded while I was taking that particular section of notes. How cool and amazingly useful is that?!

So why is this blog worthy you ask (aside from the fact that it fulfills my new-thing-for-the-week requirement)? Well as it turns out, there might be a slight hitch in my giddyup... I may be returning this great little device (14 day return policy) if I cannot permanently download my textbooks. It appears that some distributors only let you RENT the textbooks for a given amount of time. Which is completely useless to someone who will be studying for the MCAT and need to refer back to old textbooks and notes. I will be calling one of the main distributors tomorrow when they are open to see what's up with that fishy business and will keep you posted.

iPad freak signing off :)

Update: Apparently the iPad does not like to format in Blogger (i.e. this was one large block of sentences) so I had to come back in on the Mac and revise it a bit. So there are limitations. But overall still very happy. Here's hoping rent-a-book is just an option for poor college students and not a requirement for e-textbooks...

A Fever You Say? Good Thing I Know My Calculus, I'll Cure You In No Time...

I was never one for math.  Truthfully, anything I couldn't conceive of as being a direct benefit usually received very little attention from me.  So you better believe when I took all my math in college (nearly a DECADE ago!!!  My god, how did I get this old!!!) I couldn't give two hoots about trigonometry.  What did I care, I was never going to use it again.

Well, consider my ass bit.  I am now looking down the barrel of a very long, dark, and terrifying quarter that involves differential calculus and what I am sure will consequently include large quantities of my hair vacating my head.  As I review trigonometry to prep for my forthcoming calculus course I find myself without the vaguest recollection of what a radian is or why the hell it is even used (among many, many other things).  I mean really, degrees make much more sense.  What self important genius decided it would be fun to stump the greater populous and come up with a completely nonsensical way to measure angles?  I would like to find myself a Delorean, go back in time, and pop him one just on principle.

Besides, at what point am I going to employ calculus or trigonometry while practicing medicine?  The most I can conceive of is using basic algebra to determine dosage amounts.  I can't see radians being pertinent to that in any way...Awesome.  Ah well, I just keep reminding myself that while it wont be helpful in life, it is needed to achieve my goal which is good enough for me!

Until next time!

Paging Fake Dr., Paging Fake Dr., We Need 3cc Of Sanity...STAT!

Ok, you are probably wondering, "RP, you've always been nuts, why are you suddenly looking for sanity now?" And I have to admit, that is a darn good question...one I should ask the team of therapists it will take to put me back together after my next decision.

I, RP, have made the most gut wrenching, terror inducing decision man (or woman) has ever known. Am I starting a family? Marrying my favorite baristo-boy from Starbucks (Hi Joe!) and running away to Columbia to start my own coffee business? Perhaps taking a page out of Blast from the Past and building my very own fallout shelter in my parents basement and locking myself in there for the next 30 years? Nope, well, the last one was close enough, but no, it's scarier. I have decided to aim for med school. Yes ladies and gentlemen, I desire to work with that gelatinous goo filled, puss oozing, fecal matter storing organism we fondly call the human body. Yummy. Nothing says pee-on med student like a 56 hour day filled with rectal exams and foot fungus.

So why am I doing this? Obviously it isn't for the glory, something I never really understood- why are physicians glorified? If the above paragraph didn't get the message across, they have a pretty icky job when you get down to it. Rewarding but icky. Anyway, I digress. I am doing it because it feels right, because I believe in bettering the lives of others in a purposeful way, because I know the value of having a physician that treats you like a complete human being instead of a set of symptoms. I want to work in rural communities that have limited access to good health care. Heaven help me, I probably wont be making enough once I am practicing to actually pay off my massive student loan debts...why can't I be interested in becoming a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills? Ah well. Wish me luck! :-)

Edit: I thought I should clarify, since some of my dear readers (yes, one of the two) believed my decision to go to med school was influenced by my experience of being denied state funded health care (see post below).  I am not sure what the connection is there (I can't really treat myself as a physician...) but I thought I would clarify that I actually began this journey 2 years ago in 2009, but got scared away by the MASSIVE student loans needed to complete med school.

The Lap Of Luxury...And Some Sap To Go With It

Time to play which one sucks most! Are you ready?

Question: What sucks most?
a) Learning that you no longer qualify for state funded health care because you make a lavish $900 a month at your part time job that doesn't even have enough money in the bank to pay you at the end of the month...no really, they asked us to hold our paychecks for a couple weeks...for the second month in a row.
b)Learning that the 150th job application you sent in for a position opening didn't make it into the candidate pool because you were competing against people with a masters degree and 40 years experience for an entry level administrative assistant job.
c) Going out into nature to calm yourself down and try to forget about your crappy day only to get a HUGE clump of sap in your hair...you know the kind that doesn't wash out?
d) All of the above happening on the same day.

If you answered "d" than you are today's winner! Congratulations, your prize is a getting laid off and evicted from the home you've lived in for 60 years! Yay!

The best part about all of this is that the health insurance I had for 6 months, which I qualified for in last December required that I apply for unemployment (which they never required me to do before) in order to reapply (participants have to reapply every 6 months). Even after I explained to them that I did not want to because the system was already overburdened and I was making ends meet with my part time job, they said I would be disqualified if I did not. I tossed and turned for over a month, really resenting the fact that in order to have health care I was being forced to apply for unneeded unemployment...when I had a job! Then when I finally caved and applied for unemployment the state decides my $902.48 take home monthly income is just too lavish and I don't qualify. So now I get the joys of calling up unemployment (who are harder to get on the phone than the IRS during tax season) and ask them to cancel my claim.

On top of that...I can still smell the sap in my hair.

What Does The Starving Artist Have In Common With The Multimillionaire? Doggishness

So I am going on my first face-to-face date with bachelor #1 this Saturday. The photos the matchmaker sent me along with his profile are nice enough. And while I feel he isn't really my type (read: broke and jackass-ish) I figure I will step out of my box and see what happens. He has been very nice when we have talked over the phone, if not a bit direct. Side note: I have noticed there is a distinct difference between conversations you hold with someone you met on the street and are trying to see where things go, and someone you met through a matchmaker and know exactly the expectations of each interaction. It's a bit odd...

Anyway, back to the story at hand. So we have been exchanging emails back and forth and today is the second time he has mentioned that he still needs to secure a place to stay in town (he is coming from out of state). The first time I passed it off as information sharing, but now that he has mentioned it a second time I am beginning to think he is a bit of a dog. Mention it once, that is information sharing, mention it twice and your are bordering on flat out asking if you're getting lucky after the date. Unfortunately for him, needy/assuming pressuring has never been the way to go with me. So, I changed our dinner date to a lunch date so that he will have time to travel back home that same day and not need to secure a hotel.

I don't think that was the response he was expecting, but he accepted it. Of course, there wasn't a much more he could do. Moral of the story- don't be a dog, it might bite you in the ass.

Want An Ego Boost? Find A Matchmaker...And Then, Call A Shrink!

So the very first entry of this lovely blog illustrated my amazingly exciting love life... you know the one where I live in my parent's basement and haven't really dated in over 2 years...remember, that one? Yeah, so there appears to be a turn of events. My phone, which has seen about as much action as I have, is suddenly getting calls from men the matchmaker has set me up with (with my approval of course :-). My once empty email box is filling up with men asking if I am available this weekend (heck no, make them work for it!) and if they can fly out to see me or buy me a plane ticket to come meet them (most are out of state).

Wow, where did this come from? How did I go from dateless girl to girl wonder? I am not going to play shy and humble, I am aware I am attractive. I come from attractive stock. Yay me. But to go from catching a few eyes as I walk down the street, to setting up dates with multi-millionaires (yes, some of these guys are very affluent) seems to be a crazy turn of events. And it begs the question, why do I need a professional matchmaker to get a date with someone who isn't a complete loser?

I guess I should admit it right now, I am a sucker for the blue collar worker. If there is a starving artist, penniless grad student, or broke construction worker within a 40 mile radius I am inevitably attracted to them. They generally can't pay for a meal much less make rent on time, but for some reason, that is my type. But now, I find myself talking with men who know who the GOP candidates are and that The Economist is a magazine, not just some guy who knows about money. They know how to use a knife and a fork simultaneously rather than just hacking away at their meal with the side of a fork until it resembles ground beef. They speak 3 languages fluently and travel to Europe several times a year. Perhaps they even own a home over there.

So here I am, talking with these amazingly worldly men (who are looking to get married!) and all I can think about is how they wouldn't know how to change a flat tire. What the hell is wrong with me?! Who cares if they know how to change a tire, they can hire someone to do that! Hell they could buy their own Les Schwab and have one of the roadside trucks follow them around for the rest of eternity! How can I actually think that staying at home with the starving artist, or more accurately, going out with the starving artist and paying for both our meals, is more appealing than flying first class to Spain of an all expenses paid vacation? I think I need psychological help. Someone quick, call me a doctor!

Matchmaker, Matchmaker...wait- what did you just ask me?!

What would you do if you were shopping one day and a woman came up and asked you, "How old are you?" Let me tell you, you probably wont end up reacting the way you'd imagine. I would know, it just happened to me.

I, being the quick to annoyance person that I am, would have figured I'd come back with a facial expression that displayed my evaluation of her sanity and a retort that turned her face red. But surprisingly, in the moment, all I could say was, "Uhhh-um- 25?"

After being peppered with questions regarding my relationship status (single), my lifestyle (non-smoker, no kids, living with a beagle and a cat), and my family ties (I am close to my family) the woman introduced herself as a matchmaker. She is a headhunter for clients paying upwards of $25,000 for her to find them their next great love...or at least someone who isn't a total gold digger. In a span of mere moments I went from thinking she was hitting on me to thinking she was a pimp.

She asked me if I were interested in meeting a client of hers who was a vineyard owner. She tells me he has a great personality and a 10-year-old son who doesn't live with him. Oh yeah, and he is 51.

I politely schooled my face and let her know that while I enjoy the company of men older than myself, I prefer them not to be old enough to be my father/grandfather/great-grandfather. She merely shrugged and told me I would be a great fit for the type of men she works with and asked for my contact info. Still a bit stunned at the surreal-ness of it all, I handed it over to her. She gave me her business card and encouraged me to go onto her website and create a profile so she can keep me in mind for other clients. I smiled and said I will check it out and with that, she was gone.

Dazed and confused I googled her business when I got home. Sure enough, she was legit. Independent reviews from various websites rave about her services. I toy with the idea of filling out a profile, it feels too much like online dating for my taste. Something I never really wanted to try, but I figured, at the very least it can be my one new thing for the week. So, who knows perhaps one day I will be writing to you about a terrific date I just went on with Bill Gates' business partner... or more likely, I will write about how I was on a date with grandpa and constantly looking to find out if he was wearing the "help I've fallen and I can't get up" alert system.