Haikus

Biochemistry
Occurring in my body
Spontaneously

Olympic athletes
Have super hemoglobin
That could beat up yours

send me your haikus...

Med School

2 days down, 1,247 to go. Everything has been review so far. Actually, the hardest part has been the effort it takes to remember about a million new names and faces. I'm not cut out for med school social hour. I understand that meeting people is necessary in order to fit in with the rest of society, but 100 different 5 minute conversations is almost unbearable. Why can't we all just bypass all the superficial information about city of origin, previous college, and the weather that consumes casual conversation. I'm this close to opening up a conversation with, "What's the best way to relieve jock itch?" just to mix things up a bit.

On a side note, Kristin and I have cable. This is her first cable experience. It's as if hours upon hours of Oxygen, Home and Garden, and TLC have been building up inside of her until it was all released 4 days ago in what has since been a marathon of girl tv. I think estrogen is seeping out of our television. In her defense, she does watch a regular amount of Discovery and History Channel.

I will have between 4 and 7 consecutive hours of class each day. It's tough sitting in a seat that long with only a couple short breaks. My back kind of hurts. Maybe Yoga would help...

I gotta go. There's a show on with that blond chick from 90210. She just had a baby and really needs to redecorate her kitchen.

Nothing Much

I start orientation tomorrow. 7:30 am. There is supposed to be a continental breakfast.

Our goal was to get all settled and moved in by now. Half my clothes are sitting in semi-folded stacks at the bottom of my closet. The only place to sit in our apartment is a desk chair that I bought about 3 hours ago. My TV is sitting on the floor in the living room. Other than all that, our lives are and possessions are in perfect order.

I bought potatoes, beans, and eggs today. A first for all three. I wanted black beans, but couldn't find them after a solid 48 sec. of searching. Finally, I settled on some kind of hickory smoked, maple syrup infused, bacon baked beans. Something that is exquisitely Texas.

We have also been watching the olympics. Kristin does not have a single competitive bone in her body. She could care less who wins. Gymnastics, the only sport she has any interest in following, doesn't even ignite her competitive spirit. She just wants to see some good gymnastics.

go USA. Put me on the balance beam. I'll win you the gold.

The Elusive Moose of Texas

On day 2 of our trip we stopped off in Virginia Beach to have dinner with Kristin’s cousin, Tyson. Essentially, we decided on the first place we saw, which happened to be a charming little establishment called, “Texas Steakhouse.” Upon entering the “Texas Roadhouse” knock-off, we noticed the entire staff wearing wranglers, cowboy boots, bolo ties, and some kind of button up shirt with an embroidered cactus on it that is intended to fool the customer into thinking that these people know steaks. Immediately to the left of the waiting area was a beat up mechanical horse, a mini-amusement park for little kids and rotovirus.

Growing up in Texas, I thought I had become accustomed to tacky wall ornaments and decorations encompassing an overarching theme, like West Texas lore and its related stereotypes. However, Virginia’s “Texas Steakhouse” went so over the top with the western theme, which was often completely wrong, that I felt embarrassed to be associated with such a comical state. First off, everywhere you looked there were pictures of cowboys perched atop bucking broncos in the middle of the desert. There must have been at least 200 of these lining the rustic wood paneled walls. Let’s think about the practicality of this image for a second. The producers of these pictures, most likely a company based in Massachusetts or Hong Kong, thought that cowboys in mid-19^th century Texas spent hours upon hours of their time taming wild horses by strapping themselves onto the animals back. It’s as if they saw a rodeo on TV and projected a day in the life of a Texan from their observations.

In addition to the exorbitant number of Texas snapshots adorning the walls, there were also quite a few neon signs describing things that us Texans love. Such signage included, “I like country music,” “Outhouse,” and one that had a red heart with “Texas” inside it. I can’t really blame them for their choice of signs aside from the lack of creativity, because above all else, Texans really, really love Texas.

After finishing my meal, a decided to mosey on over to the “outhouse” for some good ‘ole fashioned pissin’. As I got up I noticed the coup de grace of Texan ideology hanging on the wall; the quintessential entity with which all Texans identify…the infamous moose. A giant moose head loomed over the restaurant enrapturing other diners with thoughts of monstrous creatures roaming the Texas countryside. I wanted to reassure everybody present that day not to worry about rampant Texas Moose. After all, they mainly live up in the panhandle where their natural predators, the elephant and rhinoceros, mainstays of the gulf coast, can’t reach them.

We Made It...

...44 hours and $650 gas dollars later. The packing process is now reversing itself, slowly increasing in entropy from the compact, rectangular prism inside the U-Haul to the present mess that has engulfed every inch of our apartment. The weekend will be devoted to finding space for an entire house worth of items. Well, that and the frisbee tournament I will be playing in with some people from Dartmouth. I am excited.

I have several things we saw along our trip that I would like to spend some time to ponder/rant/ridicule, but there is work to be done. Check back here over the next week for stories. I promise they will be good.

Here are a few quick-hitter observations/impressions:

-People are nicer here than in Texas
-As far as I can tell, black people aren't allowed in New Hampshire
-Northern Wal-Marts are less insufferable that those in the South and the elderly that work there seem to be legitimately happy

See you tomorrow.

Ultimate Happiness

Our new apartment is 0.2 miles from the fields where Dartmouth Ultimate practices. Literally, in my backyard. Check it out...

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&q=sachem+field,+hanover,+nh&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=69.989462,109.160156&ie=UTF8&ll=43.68291,-72.288687&spn=0.008007,0.013325&z=16

The apartment is on Sachem Circle. Sweeeeeet.

On a totally unrelated note, drive is going well. I get passed a lot. Other Honda Elements I see sans U-Haul are really laughin' it up. More churches in Clemson, SC than there are in Lubbock, TX. Believe it. On a more positive note, tomorrow we will be leaving the confederacy for good. I can almost taste it...

I Hate Moving

I do. I really do. The last 48 hours have been awful. My fingers are raw from tape (packing, masking, and duct). My back hurts. Once most of the boxes were successfully taped, it was my job to load the trailer. This particular task could only be described as a game of Tetris from Hell. But I can tell you this...I easily obtained the high score. There might not be a single square inch of free space left in that godforsaken U-Haul. It's not over. We still have to clean.

Silver Lining: I got to smash up Kristin's old hard drive. It felt gooooooood.

Bitch session over.