Conglomerate coffee is a good thing. People talk about how they kill the culture of independent coffee houses. I don't care, because as far as I'm concerned, independent coffee house owners only employ their village idiot cousins. All Starbuckses have exactly the drink I want. It's like the "hidden menu" at In-'n-Out. They don't post it on the menu but when you tell the cashier, he knows exactly what you mean and there is even a pre-programmed key on the register that rings you up for that exact item. (Try your next burger "animal style.") My drink is called a "Misto." It means "mixed" in Italian. Quite apt that I should go for a drink called "mixed." But anyway, it's a very simple drink. It's also one of the cheapest things you can order and sip on for hours while you take up space in their establishment. It's about half the price of a mocha, and considering how much time I spend studying at cafes, that comes out to quite a bit of savings. It is made of half hot chocolate and half drip coffee. I like regular coffee, because espressos make me destroy the bathroom and the chocolate I like, just a little bit, to take the edge off the bitterness. Anyway, still with me? Fill your cup halfway with hot chocolate, then add coffee to fill up the other half, and -voila!- you have a misto. Not so hard.
However, apparently it is an impossible drink to make for anyone that hasn't earned the title of "Starbucks Barista." I never realized what a strenous entrance exam Starbucks administered until I started trying to order my drink at random, independent coffee houses. At other coffee chains like Peets or Tully's, I meet with success half the time. Which means I don't the other half of the time. In the manner of Darron's blogs, his is how a typical experience in a NON-Starbucks coffee shop goes:
Cashier: Hi, can I help you?
Me: Yeah, hi. I don't see my drink on your menu, but what I'd like is a small cup of half hot chocolate and half drip coffee, please.
Cashier: *quizzical look on face, long pause*
Me: It's kind of like your Cafe au Lait, only with one pump of chocolate in it.
Cashier: *long pause* Okay, so you want...?
Me: Half hot chocolate, fill up the rest with regular coffee.
Cashier: *cock head slightly, glazed look, silence, then pick up cup and start writing. Drink Maker wanders over.*
Drink Maker: What did you want?
Me: Half hot chocolate, and half coffee. Like a Cafe au Lait with chocolate. Or a Mocha with drip coffee instead of espresso.
Drink Maker: Oh, okay. No problem.
Me: (silently) Thank God.
Cashier: *calls to Drink Maker* So what do I ring it up as? Is it a hot chocolate or a coffee? *discussion ensues, minutes pass*
Drink Maker: Okay, ma'am. You're drink's ready.
Me: Thank you! *take a sip, realize that he has given me half a cup of pure chocolate syrup (!) and mixed a little coffee into it*
Insert your own variation on this conversation and I can guarantee that it's happened to me. Now, I can see the argument that you shouldn't get upset if you're doing all this special ordering and changing everything around. I used to work at McDonald's, and you should have seen the things we did to the stuff people special-ordered! So I have sympathy for the poor inbred at the counter, too. One should be happy with what one gets. We all know the type, at restaurants that have to modify every ingredient of the dish. Well, I don't like being That Person either. But if I'm paying for something, I would prefer that it not give me diarrhea. So for anyone who has wondered why I'm such a Starbucks fan, and also for the rest of the world that doesn't care, that is why I love Starbucks. Because I don't have to be That Person AND I still get the drink that I want AND I don't crap my pants while sitting in class or traffic.
Go Starbucks!
August 25, 2006
August 22, 2006
Med Students Study Hard
Okay, so I would like to amend the impression I left with you, that the doctors cutting up your heart and giving you magic potions never studied. These kids do study. We had our first week of constant partying, but it's slowing down. Starting next week, we have weekly exams on Monday mornings. Talk about a good way to get your whole weekend shot! So apparently we shall all learn how to party on Monday nights from now on. Where there's a will, there's a way. It's about having conviction.
August 18, 2006
Med Students Party Hard
As a matter of fact, they party every night of the week like it's 1999. Jeez. My first week here was hectic as just before a tornado hits. But this week the overarching concepts came together and I think I've figured out my approach to med school academics. Also helps that I am now unpacked. So, I went out clubbing last night with my classmates. It was $20 cover, so you can guess that it was a shwanky kind of place. So someone got us UCI med students in on the VIP list for half price. I wanted to shout to the people in line, "See? You shoulda stayed in school!" That would have been pretty dorky, so I didn't. But I thought it. For a bunch of nerds, we sure cut up the dance floor! Some of us are really not so nerdy. I, on the other hand, have not gone clubbing in several years. I pulled out my old "clubbin' pants," the ones that were tight on me in college (the first time around) and they still fit! Very tightly, but nonetheless they fit. So I picked out probably the one appropriate top I have and did something random to my hair, slapped on some mascara and went to party with the 24-year olds. Man! Was I in for a surprise! Back in *my* day when we went clubbing, people humping each other's legs was about the limit, maybe you'd catch a couple gyrating on the floor. Last night, I saw a girl tossing some other girl's salad! And no one around them was acting surprised! The whole night was rather surreal, as if I was in a show playing a medical student who was going out with her classmates to the club. It was fun to dance, but the overall impression I had was... now I remember why I stopped going to clubs. It must have been particularly bad because this is Newport Beach, in Orange County, where everyone has to look as bored and beautiful as they can, apathetically staring past you, not at you, so you would think they were super cool and oh so hot. The Paris Hilton look, you could say. So I stayed out on the dance floor for two and a half hours and had to leave when my poor little legs gave up. Then, I got home and realized that when I took my car key off my keychain to minimize my purse contents, I'd left my housekey inside. And my roommate had locked me out. And it was 2am. And he was leaving at 4:30am on an all-weekend business trip. So I slept in my party clothes in the car until 4am, then straggled upstairs and knocked on the door, hoping that he hadn't decided to go stay overnight somewhere else after I'd left for the club. "Maybe the parties are best left up to the kids. Particularly on Thursday nights," I thought in my drowsy, confused state. I have to give everyone props though, most of the people I saw at the club were in class at 8am this morning. So my conclusion: med school is one giant party.
August 9, 2006
Overwhelmed?
That isn't the word. I just had my first biochem course today. Along with histology and cell biology and clinical correlates. It sure is a good thing I took biochemistry last summer, because we covered about three weeks' worth of last year's material in about two hours. This blog I started might be going the way of the dodo.
That being said, things might be a little less overwhelming once I am really settled in. Darron has been soooo wonderful in helping me move and trying to cheer me up in moving down here. One thing I can say: it is warm down here and you don't have to walk around dressed for summer/winter all the time. The beaches are nice. The second years put on a BBQ for us yesterday at the beach. But that's it! My heart still lives in Oakland.
Things I've learned or been told so far:
• I'm a First Year, aka MS1 (=Medical Student 1)
• But I get a fancy name tag that says I am a "Student Physician." Yay!
• You can still party while being overwhelmed.
• You need to party because you're overwhelmed.
• I unwittingly picked a great spot to live, and my commute is now 5 minutes by bike.
• People still show up to class an hour late, just like in college.
• They give you free food whenever they want you to show up for something.
• They are really friendly to you at first, just like orientation at OFD. I just hope things don't quickly deteriorate like they did at the OFD. There, they greeted us with donuts, coffee, fruit, lofty praise and congratulations from the funky podium while we were with our families. Then they separated us, still smiling, giving our family and friends the false impression that they were going to take us away and still be nice to us. In fact, the moment the door to the tiny classroom slammed shut, the torture began. I'll never forget G.W. raising his hand and asking our short-haired academy cadre leader - who happened to be a woman - if he should address her as "sir" or "ma'am." Actually, this feels like the calm before the storm. I just hope it's not a Category 5.
• My new email signature is going to be, "Gotta get going - I have to study!"
That being said, things might be a little less overwhelming once I am really settled in. Darron has been soooo wonderful in helping me move and trying to cheer me up in moving down here. One thing I can say: it is warm down here and you don't have to walk around dressed for summer/winter all the time. The beaches are nice. The second years put on a BBQ for us yesterday at the beach. But that's it! My heart still lives in Oakland.
Things I've learned or been told so far:
• I'm a First Year, aka MS1 (=Medical Student 1)
• But I get a fancy name tag that says I am a "Student Physician." Yay!
• You can still party while being overwhelmed.
• You need to party because you're overwhelmed.
• I unwittingly picked a great spot to live, and my commute is now 5 minutes by bike.
• People still show up to class an hour late, just like in college.
• They give you free food whenever they want you to show up for something.
• They are really friendly to you at first, just like orientation at OFD. I just hope things don't quickly deteriorate like they did at the OFD. There, they greeted us with donuts, coffee, fruit, lofty praise and congratulations from the funky podium while we were with our families. Then they separated us, still smiling, giving our family and friends the false impression that they were going to take us away and still be nice to us. In fact, the moment the door to the tiny classroom slammed shut, the torture began. I'll never forget G.W. raising his hand and asking our short-haired academy cadre leader - who happened to be a woman - if he should address her as "sir" or "ma'am." Actually, this feels like the calm before the storm. I just hope it's not a Category 5.
• My new email signature is going to be, "Gotta get going - I have to study!"
August 1, 2006
End of an Era
Yesterday was my last day at work. I've packed up all my stuff, left what I didn't need behind, and taken the tokens that I want to keep. It was a really weird day for me, not at all climactic. The guys didn't mess with me. In fact, Stew was super sweet all day long. Blue was pushing my buttons, but he made dinner for me, special request. It was so yummy! I sure am going to miss firehouse cooking. The chief came over for dinner, and they had an ice cream cake for me for dessert. This morning Lisa and Lamont gave me a goodbye gift. You'd think that with all that, I'd be crying my eyes out. I certainly thought I would be. Last night I got a little teary as I went to bed. But right now, I feel dazed more than anything. It's hard to believe that I've left. Is it really over? It doesn't feel like it yet.
I am so thankful to my crew - James Stewart, Jerry Blueford the Second, Dominic Antes - for being the best crew I could ever have dreamed for, and for making the past six months the happiest time of my firefighting career. They are a bunch of crazy guys, truly. Many of the stories are unfit to publish; some of them, you simply had to be there. Stew is the crazy Teflon Man: he can go out and talk to anyone, say anything, and he never gets in trouble for it because he is so disarmingly charming and funny. Blue is the pot-stirrer. He loves to cause problems with that devious grin of his, because he can read people so well and push their buttons for his personal amusement. I think it's a superpower. He is so sweet, and so teddy bear-ish, but he will *bleep* you up if you mess with him, or even if you're just quietly minding your own business. But he is the big brother figure and he certainly put up with me. Dom is the untameable one. He's still got that wildman 1 Truck tough truckie in him, and it shows. Sometimes I have to tell him to use his single house voice. He loves to blast bone-shattering music first thing in the morning when all I want is some peace and quiet as I slowly ease into the day. But he is one heck of a brave cook. Blue would always complain about everyone's cooking (even his own), so I couldn't handle the criticism and let Dominic take the shots most of the time. I'll chop veggies all day, but my skin wasn't tough enough for the scathing remarks that Dominic bravely withstood in my stead. He has that tough guy attitude but he is really a softie on the inside, too (I can only imagine how far they take that comment as they sit around the breakfast table). All three of them together, with their collective insanity and individual qualities, made the perfect crew. But they are also a little gullible, because I had them all believing that I don't boo-boo at work. "I don't play away games," I'd say. And for some reason, they didn't think it was at all un-humanlike to work three or four in a row and not have to go boo-boo.
So I sit amidst my boxes here at home, dazed and confused, going through the motions of packing up my stuff. I had no idea I was capable of such efficient storage, because it is amazing how much crap I have. And I'm not even moving my furniture because I'm renting my place out furnished!
*sigh*
I am so thankful to my crew - James Stewart, Jerry Blueford the Second, Dominic Antes - for being the best crew I could ever have dreamed for, and for making the past six months the happiest time of my firefighting career. They are a bunch of crazy guys, truly. Many of the stories are unfit to publish; some of them, you simply had to be there. Stew is the crazy Teflon Man: he can go out and talk to anyone, say anything, and he never gets in trouble for it because he is so disarmingly charming and funny. Blue is the pot-stirrer. He loves to cause problems with that devious grin of his, because he can read people so well and push their buttons for his personal amusement. I think it's a superpower. He is so sweet, and so teddy bear-ish, but he will *bleep* you up if you mess with him, or even if you're just quietly minding your own business. But he is the big brother figure and he certainly put up with me. Dom is the untameable one. He's still got that wildman 1 Truck tough truckie in him, and it shows. Sometimes I have to tell him to use his single house voice. He loves to blast bone-shattering music first thing in the morning when all I want is some peace and quiet as I slowly ease into the day. But he is one heck of a brave cook. Blue would always complain about everyone's cooking (even his own), so I couldn't handle the criticism and let Dominic take the shots most of the time. I'll chop veggies all day, but my skin wasn't tough enough for the scathing remarks that Dominic bravely withstood in my stead. He has that tough guy attitude but he is really a softie on the inside, too (I can only imagine how far they take that comment as they sit around the breakfast table). All three of them together, with their collective insanity and individual qualities, made the perfect crew. But they are also a little gullible, because I had them all believing that I don't boo-boo at work. "I don't play away games," I'd say. And for some reason, they didn't think it was at all un-humanlike to work three or four in a row and not have to go boo-boo.
So I sit amidst my boxes here at home, dazed and confused, going through the motions of packing up my stuff. I had no idea I was capable of such efficient storage, because it is amazing how much crap I have. And I'm not even moving my furniture because I'm renting my place out furnished!
*sigh*
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