I’ll miss you…



This weekend was med school graduation, which means a few things: first of all, it means that several people that I’ve known for way too long to take seriously are now doctors (i.e. Scary Spice in the 7th grade talent show). It also means that we have almost exactly one year left here.





This countdown elicits something different in everyone who moves around for a spouse’s job. Of course for many of us it means HOLYCRAPMYHUSBANDWILLBEADOCTOR (breath) ANDTHAT’SSLIGHTLYWEIRDSLASHKINDOFCOOL. For some med school families it doesn’t mean much other than that. They’re happy where they are and the med student will confidently apply to the program at their current school and with only slight anxiety, assume that’s where they’ll stay. For some people it’s awful, they’ll have to leave a place they’ve come to love.




Us? Well, we’re ecstatic. We hope to end up someplace completely different – a place with snow, mountains, and/or tall buildings… a place where people walk from point A to point B without getting funny looks. Maybe a place where we won’t have to explain what “Jewish” is.


As hard as it may be to believe, I don’t hate it here. No, it isn’t my favorite place in the whole world, but I was never expecting to live in my favorite place in the whole world – a patisserie in Paris, the coast of Ireland, the Met, or Epcot.


all we really need, right?



In an effort to prove this to you (and maybe myself) and to document our last year here, this week I’m going to start featuring a year’s worth of things I’ll miss. Some will be important, others will be the little things, some will probably be sarcastic. But they will all be here. And for now, they’re all home.




{1, 2, 3, 4}
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if the beatles wore gaucho pants

{image from Visit Abbey Road‘s hall of fame}




I can’t believe I’m just now coming across the Abbey Road webcam. Standing on this corner 6 years ago, I shook my head and thought to myself that this had to be one of the most ridiculous spots on Earth. This was, of course, right before whoever was holding the camera [facing the wrong way] yelled “Go!” and I walked across the crosswalk [by myself].



{if I hadn’t told you this was 6 years ago, could you have guessed the year by my awesome gaucho pants?}


If you watch the webcam during London daytime, you won’t have to wait more than a minute or so before you see a group of people trying to recreate the famous picture. The tourists are constant. The traffic is constant. It’s really very funny, and standing back and realizing I was right in the middle of such a uniquely odd place is one of my favorite traveling memories.


What’s the strangest place you’ve visited? Have you ever crossed Abbey Road?

a confession


We boarded Ike this weekend while we attended a friend’s wedding. .00001% of me was worried he’d be raptured without us, all by himself in a 3×6 foot run, with nothing but his bone, a t-shirt that smelled like me, and his bed. Doesn’t his expression above just scream, “I’m being raptured all by myself?”

scholarly ike earns his glasses

Y and I should get a prize for dog training. No, we haven’t figured out how to make Ike stop jumping on guests… or growling at other dogs… or whining for food.


But we did teach him a new phrase.


Ike now knows the ever important phrase “last one”, used most frequently when playing fetch. Here’s how I know he understands it:


Generally, when I throw Ike the ball he — like most other dogs who play fetch — runs back as fast as he can so I can throw it again. I wish I knew what was going through his little head.




“Hey guys, you lost your ball! I know you need it, so I brought it back! Try not to lose it aga– ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! BRB.”


But when I look at him sternly and say “last one” before I throw the ball, he doesn’t come back after he fetches it. He just stands there and basically pouts.


“No more? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?”

junk mail

They tell you that med students will change their desired specialty many, many times. What they don’t tell you is that each flirtation with a specialty brings a new realm of junk mail.


And those specialties don’t care when the med student moves on to a new one. Y has gone through 3 specialties, and that’s about a week’s worth of medical paraphernalia. The worst offender?


EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. there’s a new piece of mail with a brain on it. If there are any med students out there… think long and hard before you decide to proclaim interest in neurology. Do it for the trees.

nostalgia



I’ve noticed a heightened appreciation for nostalgia recently. Just this week, I’ve seen links to:

Plus, today I found this blog that collected childhood memories from its readers. I was almost in tears. AND THEN, “Too Close” by Next came on the radio. Is the universe trying to make me feel old?


On a related note, I rescued a favorite old toy from my childhood bedroom a few weeks ago:




My Talkboy — a toy invented for the greatest movie ever, Home Alone 2 — was well loved, if you couldn’t tell. But I didn’t even use it for the normal mischief it was intended for. No way, I had no brothers and sisters to torment, so my Talkboy’s main purpose was to record pretend auditions for my singing career. A LOT of Little Mermaid was recorded on that thing.


This commercial makes me happy. It reminds me of flipping through the wonderfully fat Toys R Us Christmas catalog. And strangely enough, it feels like this commercial was just on TV yesterday.






Soo… am I the only loser child who spent hours alone in her bedroom singing Part of Your World into her Talkboy? What was your favorite 90s toy?


take that, justins bieber and timberlake



3 random things:

1. I added a links page (which almost got eaten by the Great Blogger Maintenance Issue of 2011) in case you need some new reads. Medical spouses — what are some of your other favorite blogs, because I know I missed some! There’s a link at the top of the blog (next to the “about” page, which you should also read)

2. I have a Facebook page! I started it mainly because some of my relatives (hi, sister!) thought I didn’t update my blog unless Facebook said so, and I didn’t want to clog up my actual FB newsfeed. Then, I decided to beg everyone I know to join it, because I thought it would be kind of sad if the page only had 12 fans. And look, it’s already more popular than both Justin Bieber’s page AND Justin Timberlake’s page!







Oh… that’s not what that means? What does it take to make you love me, America? Curly frosted tips?

3. This is my new favorite childhood photo:







Anyone have a good caption?

Have a good weekend, friends!