YYC, YEG, YYZ, YOW, YUL

Hey Gang,

I am in transit…again. I left Calgary at 9:30, and flew to Edmonton, which is where I am right now. At 0:55am, I will board another flight which arrives in Toronto at 6:55 am. Then, I will find a taxi, or benevolent soul heading downtown. I will arrive at the hotel, and dispose of my cumbersome baggage, begging for the earliest possible check-in time. I will scrounge up some breakfast and then make my way to my brother and Turtlecats’ place. We have pedicures booked at 10am. The esthetician will undoubtedly react with complete revulsion when she sees my feet. They are battered from weeks of walking all over Calgary. A mild case of cellulitis on my right foot is almost healed up now.

I haven’t posted much lately. Truth is, I am so happy to be done this elective it’s not even funny. The past three weeks have been excruciating on the academic front. I take solace in the fact that the new elective student who came on Monday also commented that the doc I worked with for two of my three weeks seems like a weirdo. That is the understatement of the century.

Suffice it to say, over the past week, I’ve adopted a pretty defeatist attitude. There was nothing to do and everyone was preoccupied with the move to the new hospital. Imagine going to work everyday knowing that you will have no choice but to sit around with your thumb up your ass, and that at the end of the exercise, someone will be evaluating you for it.

All things considered, my evaluation was fairly good, if not a little banal. She didn’t say anything bad, but certainly was not singing my praises either. I had decided pretty early on that I wouldn’t be asking for a letter, so the fact is, I just didn’t care about her feedback. If I hadn’t had the elective student from Western to keep me company this week, I think I would’ve had a complete meltdown. He offered me a place to stay when I interview in at Western. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my soul would die if I had to move to London, Ontario for any period of time.

I did manage, while in Calgary to get a good haircut. While the haircut was good, the cosmetic results are understandably intermediate. When you’ve been terribly disfigured with a very short mullet, you need to stop by intermediate on your way back to good. I wish Brittiny could become my regular stylist in Ottawa. Her hair vision and skill were noteworthy.

So, now it’s off to McGill for three weeks of psych emergency, with a pit stop in Toronto for the wedding of the century. I’m pretty excited to see the fruits of my cupidic labours paying off so nicely. I mean what girl doesn’t dream of hand picking her sister in law. Trust me, some of my brother’s ex-girlfriends have left a lot to be desired.

I think I mentioned that I am pretty sure about psychiatry now, more so with each passing day. This may just be cognitive dissonance theory at its best, but then again who cares. As long as the decision feels good and well thought out, I don’t really give a shit.

I can’t believe that I leave for Africa in a month, and everything that has to happen between now and then. Next week is going to be the week of CARMS. I need to get all of my cover letters out to people writing me letters, and by the end of the week at least have a first draft of my personal statement. I will spend TG weekend in Sault Ste. Marie.

God….at the time that I booked my flight, it seemed so smart because it was cheaper and I would not have to book a hotel for Thursday night in Toronto. Now, as I prepare to take a nap at the airport, I feel like I should write myself a little memo about how much this sucks, and how good I’d be feeling if I were tucking into a soft warm bed with chocolates on the pillow and bottled water on the night stand.

Oh by the way, I had a long wait in Calgary after the shuttle dropped me off at the airport and I was starving, and a little parched. So I decided to branch out from my normal Timmy Ho’s dinner, and went to Montana’s where I could have a beer, burger, and fries – pure decadence.

Well, the service was probably some of the worst I have ever experienced. I came within a whisker of storming out and making a big scene. But then, I was so tired, and the beer, when it finally came, tasted like pure joy. My burger was also delicious, but the fries were grotty. So, I only got partial satisfaction after stepping so far out of my travel food comfort zone. I hope I do not suffer from intolerable flatulence on the plane. There is just nothing worse than holding in farts for like 5 hours. The pain is unbearable.

I hope all of my friends are doing well. I miss you – a lot. Hollycat, I’m sorry I did not get around to calling before I left for Calgary. I am brutal sometimes.

Xoxoxo Tabby.

ps - i saw a young woman on the bus this morning who was looked exactly like Ally Sheady in the Breakfast Club. It was uncanny.