Land of the Interns

My first post comes from being chastised by one friend, an avid writer. But I'm not complaining because he's right, this is long overdue. So now I begin my many-fold saga.

12:15 P.M. - The PCU in Texas Children's Hospital: Houston, Texas

I flew down yesterday to visit my brother and family here in H-town. The humidity was something that I've been trying to forget while in New York, but unfortunately it was all too familiar. Connor "made history" again today as he walked all the way to the information kiosk for physical therapy. This was beyond entertaining as the scene was narrated as follows: a Thanksgiving-like procession of 6 paraded down the hallway with a wagon full of tubes and pumps. Connor deemed himself Al Roker, the physical therapists the Snoopy and Fisher-Price floats, my mom the lip-syncing celebrity and my dad the avid parade-watcher shivering inside a a holiday sweater. Mind you, Connor's actually not on drugs.

New York City: Land of the Interns

Beyond the expected celebrity sightings, the fabulous fashion, and the fast-paced days (and nights) there is a world unknown to most. This is the world as seen through the eyes of the Shoebox residents: Abbey, Paige, Courtney, and LDiva. If you haven't heard, we all sleep in a single room, two on an air-mattress, two on a full-size bed, rotating each night to ensure that each has an equal amount of back issues. We have a "full-sized" kitchen, a few overflowing closets, and a room with a couch. Though very small, I truly love it. It's our home - complete with 4 Ugly Dolls residing in the fireplace and all.

A few things I've been learning...

1. The human condition plagues the rich and the poor alike. There is no distinction.
Both the homeless and famous long to be looked in the eye for who they are. Neither of them usually are.

2. Trust God. He's got it.
The Lord has taught me to trust him with Connor and then with my life. A lesson hard to put into words. He really does have it under control.

3. We have the best group of friends in the entire world. Really. There's nothing like it.
First of all, being in New York with a cluster of us is hysterical. Secondly, I've never been loved so well.


A few more things:

1. LD's nickname, LDiva, couldn't be better. (Diva, we all can be, we admit this publicly).
2. Paige tipped a bartender in pesos Matt Pierson gave her. She didn't know. She got in trouble.
3. Matt and I end up protecting each other from interests of the same sex.

Now for some birthday commentary - It was July 6th. 21 - what up now?!

The past weekend was marked by two distinct emotions: shock and elation.
Shock: after waiting in line for Shakespeare in the Park from 5:15 am to 1 pm, Matt Pyeatt waltzed up the line shocking me with his birthday visit. For about the next 5 hours i couldn't believe that he was actually there. Once I figured it out, elation ensued. We had the best time celebrating in NYC. We explored Colombia, sat in Cathedrals, found ourselves in Harlem, and spent my 21st in a Planetarium watching "Journey to the Stars" (narrated by Whoopi Goldberg). Only Matt and Abbey.

After a 1/2 pint of Stella (I'm still a lightweight) Matt made his journey to JFK, got yelled at by a gatekeeper and helped by a stranger. I was greeted with Crumbs cupcakes, roommates, and bestie Jessie before we went to Carrera for Tapas. This being everyone else's first tapas experience i was happy to explain why they should avoid Jamon Serrado and go for the tortilla and pan con tomate. Barcelonian Stella Damm joined us for the rest of the meal as did terribly-wonderful European table service - None. We then proceeded to Hotel Jane for the bar. Friends, this is the most wonderful place - hip, old, eclectic, perfect. The kind of place that has corners for the likes of RPatt or MK&A. Though I ordered as a tribute to the Moulin Rouge, Lady Marmalade was not worth sipping- rubbing alcohol is found cheaper at Duane Reade.

A perfect 21st. Loving friends - wonderful boyfriend - and official admittance to pubs. Dark wood, I beg you, surround me soon! Oh, and Diva had to beg them to card me.

Now, the pulmonary friends summon me to my brother's report. NYC, I miss you. See you on Friday.

Abbey