Little Latina. Vents.

I've been in a post-COMP slump.  One would think I would still be riding the high from comp-scores, but that elated feeling lasted all of... oooo I don't know... a day? maybe two? It's like my brain and body were all "awesome! we did our job. namaste-and-peace-out-muthaf****aaaa".  And the one gyri of my brain that I have left is all "please noooo come baaaaack!!!! We aren't done!! that was just the freakin dress rehearsal!!!! doooon't leeeeeave!"

and you know how the rest of my brain has responded to that desperate plea?

With silence and abandonment. That's how.  

What. An A-hole. 


So you know how the people in my class suck? and for some reason don't see me for the bright-shining-star that I am? Well, it turns out that 5th semester has way too much free time, and seeing as I have no friends here and my own brain/personality is on a *temporary* hiatus, it consequently turns out that an American-portion size of loneliness follows suit.  So while I may have a shell made of many-many types of bulletproof material, I have discovered my shell free zone...

Zumba.

I went for the first time here a few weeks ago.  I show up early, and already it was packed.  But I found myself a lovely spot and quietly stood there, minding my own business as everyone else had their spanish social fest.  [have I noted before that I live in an area where 99.9% of everything is spanish? well now I have.]  But then the music started.  o.m.g.  1 hour of non-stop intense shimmy-ing, salsa-ing, cha-cha-ing, and letting these hips go wild.  I. die.  I have a perma smile on the whole time and reach my socializing maximum by smiling at my dance neighbor and use gestures that say "wow I'm sweaty" [*wipe sweat from brow and fan face with hands] and "this is fun!!" [*2 thumbs up + big smile].  I totally become one of those sexy latinas.  I *totally* fit in.  Before I know it I'm shouting "ARRRRIBA" with them and chanting for "meringue la proxima".  I can "para bajar" like nobody's business.  And at the end I was clapping and saying "gracias! gracias! gracias!"


Now let me tell you a little bit about my living situation right now.  While there are wonderful aspects to the arrangement, such as nice/safe area, I'm going to bypass talking about that - because that's boring. So here's the situation: this is Candice's Great-Aunt's apartment.  Great-Aunt is like, 80, and still runs a newspaper in the Bahamas, and even when she does come to Miami she stays in a hotel because it's not worth opening up this condo for her 1-2night stay.  Great-Aunt has a son. Candice's 2nd cousin.  Let's call him douchenozzle.  He also lives/works in Bahamas for the newspaper.  He is the epitome of a spoiled brat.  So he knows Candice is going to stay in the condo, knows I'm going to stay as well.  All is fine. However, then he has a hissy-fit because he doesn't want anyone to use his room.  Um yea, it's a 2-bedroom condo.  He assumed Candice and I would share a room.  Um yea, he's in his 40s.   Comes to the condo all of 2-3 times a year.  But God-forbid someone use his room.  So, greataunt informs Candice of this objection from douchenozzle, but even she knows hes an effing brat so she's all "your friend can use the room and if douchenozzle does end up coming I'll give you a heads-up and she can move her stuff into your room". 

"My" room has 2 single beds. like the ones you had when you were 6 and had to share a room with a sister.  Whatever, I can deal with a single bed.  But, I can't use the bathroom or closet in the room. Instead I have the hallway coat closet for all my clothes.  and the foyer-ish bathroom. Still.  whatever.  I can handle it.
In the 4 weeks that I have been here, effing douchenozzle has said he was coming 5 different times.  so 5 times I have had to pack up the shit that I did have in the room, and be ready to move my bags into Candice's room (king bed). Each time, he never ended up coming.  He was supposed arrive yesterday, but greataunt calls and is all "he decided to stay for dinner in london (UK), but he says he will for sure arrive tomorrow".  So Candice is all "okay he for sure has ticket". 

I pack up my shit today. Move my bags into Candice's room and she's all "what are you doing!?" I'm like, what does it look like. duuurrrr.
She laughs and is all 'he might not even stop by the apartment now".
I'm all "well this is a fun game".

*SO* from fun-game to fun-fact, he has gone from poking-the-bear to waking-the-bear. and she is effing pissed.

Dear spoiled-bratty-prince-douche-of-doucenozzleland.  should you ever meet me.  watch your 40-something-year-old-balls.  they are about to get kicked in by this QUEENbitch.


latina. out.

xoxo

Dear Comp. Suck It.

5th Semester so far...
I will begin by stating the obvious - life/school off the island is a completely different experience.  They are dichotomous worlds.

Since my last over enthusiastic and sleep deprived entry I have gone from Alberta to North Dakota to California to Florida.

Start at my arrival at home in Alberta.
J-bird picked me up and the airport, which could have been a scene from a RomCom movie (if they ever made a movie on the love of best-friends-and-happen-to-be-cousins). I busted through those final arrival doors, turned the corner, eyes locked with my J-bird, and started running towards my darling cousin.  Bags dropped.  I lept into her open arms as she steadied herself with a wide-based-stance, prepared for the fullness of my weight.  Nailed it. 
Let's just say it was a beautiful moment.  Did we turn some heads and get some suspicious looks? Sure did.  And did we stay arm-linked together as we got my bags and walked out? Sure did. 

Live out movie scene.  Check.


The next morning - when I woke up at 445am because I was so excited to be home - I saw the email telling me I now had a nephew!!  Brodie Mitchell.
Chelsa is a friggin superstar.  She does all the work, and I still get to share in the high of endorphins at the news of his arrival.  Awesome.

My time at homehome was spent studying all day then going to hot-yoga with J-bird when she got off work.  We would sweat our lives away as we opened our hips, cleared the fog from our third eye, aligned our chakras, and did whatever else is supposed to happen in yoga.  Personally, I focus so hard on not falling over or passing out, such that yoga has become the only time when my mind will STFU for a wonderful-torturous hour.
 
In addition to sweating it out at hot-yoga with J, we practiced some 'free-style' yoga at home.  This picture is self-explanatory. 




Doubles Yoga.  Check.

Nailed it again.

Of course once I got settled into my routine at home it was time to pack up and head to North Dakota.  I spent a short 3 days there with my sweet, "preth-ous" (A's form of 'precious'), beautiful nephew and niece.  Chelsa rocked my world when she decided to join me and the parents in PS with Aubrey and Brodie.


We all spent a wonderful week in PS, even though I struggled with trying to find a sliver of balance between studying and soaking up the family time.  I mostly was isolated in my office-cave doing countless practice questions/studying for the upcoming COMP exam (comprehensive of all 4 semester. which equals the first 2 years of med school). 

My cave of scieneee-wonders

Finally, I made the trek to Miami.  There was a bit of apprehension and dread going on in me because the comp exam was getting *that* much closer, but even more than that, the idea of seeing people from the island again was super unsettling.  Eugh. 


Okay, so since I got here on May 9th... moved in with the one friend I have in my class - Candice.  We studied out asses off until we finally took the comp exam May 18th.  The exam was a horrific experience.  I really felt like I was prepared enough and sat down confidently at the beginning of it.  That was quickly sucked out of me as I hit the middle of the exam, where it seemed almost every question I read and stared at and thought 'WTF ARE YOU ASKING OF ME!?!?!?'
or it was a type of question where I knew what they were talking about in the question stem, but then what they were asking you to extrapolate from it and answer in a very specific way made my brain cry and say 'wwwwhhhhhy are you doing this to me you A-HOLE!?!?'

To top off the ulcer inducing experience was the issue of time management.  This has never been an issue for me.  I have always been a relatively fast test-taker.  On average for all the exams on the island, I finished with 30-40mins left over. 
BUT. O.M.F.  I have found out when you are thinking SOOO hard and trying REALLY hard to get to the answer in your brain... time speeds up. and when this happens a lot... those 4 hours are over before you know it.  I kept looking at the clock. Panic set in when I knew I would not finish if I was to actually read the questions fully.  So I shit you not, the last 30 questions at least, my eyes would take in the last 3 words of the first sentence and last sentence then go straight to the answer choices. make a quick judgement on what the question was asking based on the answer choices. pick one. and move the hell on. 
I was shaking. I was circling in the very last question and finished Lit-cher-ally as the proctor called "pencils down".  I almost shat myself.  I had a tremor for a solid hour after the exam.  I walked around in a zombie-like daze trying to process what had happened. 

The next 10 days were a combination of bliss and torture.  (The comp was on a Friday) and 8am Saturday I was in the group that had all weekend training for ACLS (advanced cardiac life support).  However, once I got that out of the way, I really perfected my slothness/ability to watch countless episodes of movies and shows. Netflix really knows the way to my heart. 
How much are you envisioning me watching as you read that? Well, whatever it is. Double it.  I am truly amazing like that.


Okay, fast forward to Tuesday May 29th.  Release of scores day. Anxiety filled.

When I clicked on the grade page and saw that not only did I pass, but did beyond my expectations, I just sat there staring at the screen making sure I was reading it correctly.  My heart was pounding so hard and fast that every beat was palpable. That moment was probably the best so far of my schooling. 

Bascially what passing the comp means, is that I can now sign up to take the exam that actually matters - Step 1 - which is the first board exam.

So without going into more detail and boring you, I'll just leave it at that for now.

I'll leave you with some of my favorite tumblr posts.  A site that was a great source of tear-inducing-laughter.

So obnoxious. 

Pretty much universally true.

Truly my greatest fear.

Going through my med school class book.

Kids these days.

I realize this and I'm sorry. Thanks for still loving me. 

xoxo