TCM-Fried Brain

Oh kittens. This adventuregrrl is worn out and so very, very looking forward to two weeks from now when board madness is at least temporarily over, and hopefully over forever. My brain is so unruly and tired, the stuff I have left to learn is just resisting being crammed in, kind of like when I try to put kitties in the box to take them to the vet and they splay their legs out in all directions so I can't fit them through the little wire door. I know this is the biggest exam I've ever faced in my life, and so none of this is really a surprise...just...damn I'm tired, and stagnant, and antsy, and drained all at the same time.

The traveling isn't making things easier, but hopefully they will help ensure a good score in the end. The mock I took in LA on Sunday didn't go so well as I had hopped (even though it was ridiculously hard, with plenty of terrible questions that are apparently par for the course). It scared me sufficiently to figure out how to get myself up to the Bay for Kokko and Bina's review intensives for the next 2 weeks, coordinate couch-surfing and hotel rooms, craigslist rideshares, etc. I'm feeling a bit better now--Kokko and Bina are amazing, and I almost wish I had made the trek up to Berkeley every Sunday for the regular review class. Oh well. I took another mock in SF last weekend, and did considerably better (the questions were clearer too...). I've been doing well on case studies and other practice tests too...I just can't seem to make myself care about arcane pointless crap like crossing points that have no clinical significance whatsoever (then again, does knowing that a surging pulse is a yin-within-yang pulse help me not harm the public? but I digress...). I'm working on needling depths, precautions, techniques and the like, since I know that will feature prominently (and it should--that's the whole point of a board). This weekend's ortho madness will be a nice departure, as Dr. Neil has promised to teach us cool stuff like some kind of super cupping and whatever else he's picked up in his nearly 30 years of practice. And it will be nice to see the little whiskered ones again, and hug them and kiss them and generally squish them good.

The car thing is also semi-sorted out, which makes me feel semi-better. I fly out to Denver on Monday morning to pick up my little blue prize and drive it straight back to SF for one more week of review, and then a week of national boards and general relaxing in sweltering fire-smoked heat up in Redding afterward. Lars still sits awaiting his fate in a tow yard in SLO, waiting for an adjuster to go and tell me what I already know, that he's a total and he's only worth his salvage value plus whatever repairs I've made recently. Sigh. Blink. Sigh. Stagnant liver qi much? Should I be dreaming of volcanos or all my teeth falling out apropos of nothing or none of the above? Groan. No wait, groans are kidney...

Then there is figuring out moving without having a definite destination or end date in mind, as I need to go on ahead and look for work and see what happens where before I plunk down the money to lease an apartment, drag the kitties with, etc. And of course my JMT epic. I do believe I have everything except the wool undies for camp, the water tx tabs and the food. And renting the Bearikade from Wild Ideas. The Jetboil goes to 9 levels of awesome--I've been cooking stuff on and off for the last 2 weeks to avoid eating out, and it's been great. The tent weighs a mere 1.5 pounds--I think I'm going to seam-seal it and try it out in my dad's back yard while I'm up there. Maybe even a trip to Marble Mtns or Warner Wilderness is in order, if I can get James on board. Shasta has no snow, and Craig's transfer to the law school in Denver was accepted so he and Jen are scrambling to get their stuff out from Vermont and settled in ready to begin L2 in about 3 weeks, so climbing Shasta or Rainier is out this summer. I'm happy they are moving though--hopefully I'll be in Boulder or Fort Collins soon and then we can play together again!

And now...back to crossing points.

Shameless Proud Mama Moment

My good friend and pro photog Leila shot this when she came over for dinner last week, and I just love it! Of course, it's small pommes de terre for Leila--if I ever get married she's definitely my go-to, and she should be yours too!

Ok, imitating the cute sleepy kittens now.

Why I Keep the Cuteness Blogroll Handy

So the rest. Class was good--Bina and Kokko were awesome. I especially appreciated the case study practice. It's anathema to me to not read a question carefully from top to bottom, but with these that's the worst thing you can do--you're guaranteeing you'll fuck your shit up. Some questions I didn't even read--I could eliminate 3 choices with tongue and pulse alone. I couldn't believe I was about 92% right in the end. So, some more confidence that I sorely need right now.

I found my way to Monterey, and met my dad and Sharon at the same place they took us for dinner last year. We were even at the same table. No, I didn't order the same dish. I'm not that boring and predictable. It turns out that their rental broke a pipe or something the day they were supposed to arrive so the rental company put them up in the most ridiculous house off 17 Mile Drive for a week gratis. 4 bedrooms, 4 full bathrooms, not much living space, but a back deck to die for that looked out over the steeply dropping and forested hill toward the ocean. Definitely less worse than the hostel. We spent Monday messing about at Point Lobos, where I learned that whales have really, really big vertebrae and if you were to plow up the land around the whaling cabin you'd dig up all kinds of cool artifacts. There was eve a coal-mining operation for a brief time. Who knew?

The next morning I hit the road early, got to SLO in time to study for a bit and have a coffee before meeting a friend for lunch. Almost home, or so I thought. I got on the freeway innocently enough, I checked my rearview and blindspot to change lanes, when suddenly the girl in front of me lost control and was swerving all over the place. It happened in about a second or maybe two, I really didn't have anywhere to go but straight into her passenger side as she slid around. Neither of us was hurt, but oh, poor Lars is gone! Hemorrhaging antifreeze, not drivable at all. Apparently there was a delivery truck in the #1 lane that started to veer into her and she cut right to get out of his way. He didn't stop, but presently a guy pulled over and said he had seen everything and gave us a plate number. We hugged him. Then the CHP arrived, took statements, we called insurance, and all that rot. They asked me where I wanted to have Lars towed. I told them I was 200 miles from home and I had no idea. The tow guy was really nice and said he could hold the car for 24 hours at the yard with no storage fee for me. I had an inkling that I may never see Lars again so I had to get all my stuff out, and the girl offered to drive me back into town so I could try and get my shit together at my friend's office.

Which took hours. And I was hot and tired and cranky and hungry and I ended up having to spend a night at a hotel because all the rentals cars were "sold" for that day. Argh. I must have looked pathetic with my little hobo pile of luggage, books, maps, acupuncture travel kit, emergency car tools, etc. My friend had plans with his girlfriend (did I mention it was his birthday the next day?) but was kind enough to send a friend of his who I had met once out to meet me and entertain me and generally keep me company while I had dinner and a few beers. And a scotch at this lovely and quiet bar we stopped in on the way back to my hotel. After chiding me for keeping him out late on a school night and making sure I got in ok he rode home and I swallowed a handful of Ping Wei tablets and went to sleep.

The next morning I picked up my rental, headed over to the tow yard to take pictures and sign over the papers (it's totaled for sure and I'm not paying $2500 to tow it home or storage to figure out what to do with it even if it won't be). It made me sad. I love that car, and I wasn't ready to say good-bye, and I'm definitely not happy about having to figure out how to affect a replacement all of a sudden with everything else that's happening. So it goes, I guess. Lawyer Mark is going to help me put my claim to the girl's insurance together, and he thinks it should be pretty open/shut as far as getting it paid. I sent away for the CHP report on Friday, we'll see if it turns up anything on the plate search.

On the other hand, I got my nationals go-ahead to test, ortho is more than half over, my Jetboil and new GoLite bag came yesterday, and I got the contact info for Dr. Jeff Spencer, (yeah, that Dr. Jeff Spencer) from Dr. Lerner this weekend, and my classmate Mikel was offered a job at both the ortho group and pain clinic where he observed this month (they basically told him, "Where have you been all our lives?!") which made me happy because I like Mikel and hopeful because Dr. Lerner says it happens a lot, if we acupunks would just come out of our shells and connect with other docs already.

So, maybe things are looking up. And these really are some of the cutest things I've seen in a while...

Picaresque

What a... mixed bag this week has been. This really should have been put into about 5 posts, but time is not my friend lately so the smooshing commences of past posts and present observations.

7-5-08

I'm having this weird reaction. I drove up to Berkeley for class tomorrow. As I started heading west toward Altamont Pass, and seeing the vast open expanse of rolling golden hills studded with dark green and grey oak, I started getting all sentimental about leaving. Not about leaving SoCal. Just Cali in general, I think. I mean, it's pretty uniquely cool to live in a place named for a warrior queen. Even so, I can't really think of any place I'm burning to go to live. I found myself wishing as I was bumping along the margin of the Oakland Hills that I could want to be there, but I just felt weary and overwhelmed, and like I arrived to the party about 40 years too late. As usual. Am I really this old?

I found my hostel soon enough. I even got rock star parking right in front. The beautiful 3-story Craftsman with garden in front and big porch to the side looked so inviting; I walked inside, and... kind of a dump, really. I mean, I've stayed in plenty of hostels and I certainly wasn't expecting the Ritz. But for what they were charging I was hoping for a place where I at least didn't have to unscrew the light bulb to turn off the lamp and the trash was more than a plastic grocery bag lashed to the door handle, half full of previous tenants' trash. Oh well. I found my check-in slip and discovered that my room was directly across from the front door. This would become infinitely more annoying late into the night when every late arrival woke me up from my tenuous slumber. But the place has potential, as all old houses that have been uglified to make cheap rooming houses do. The woodwork has miraculously not been painted over, the hideous oilcloth carpet covers what could be lovely wood floors, and I have one half of a once-magnificent boarded-over stone fireplace in my room. The artist and mother in me wants to undo it all and restore it to its original splendor, not for vanity but for love.

Other than that, the management is too stereotypically Berkeley for words. The check-in slip exhorted that my stay in Berkeley (and my life!) be "filled with joy and purposes." Boy is it ever. Pass boards, move, find new car, get new life. But I'll get to that later. The best part was the contact info in case of problems, reprinted here exactly except for area codes 'cuz publishing cell #'s without people's permissions is rude:

Jian (555) 464-9828
Justin (555) 849-4800
Dearl (***) ***-**** (telepathy)

I thought, if they are serious, that's pretty dorktastic. On the other hand, if they are being ironic, that's pretty brilliant. After the frat party incident though, I'm leaning toward dork.

Ah, the frat parties--goddamn kids are annoying and get the hell off my lawn! I came home from walking around at 9:30, everything seemed quiet. I got hopeful. I thought maybe since it was summer and most of the kids are gone...and maybe that giant chalk drawing of male genitalia (not to scale!) on the sidewalk (and helpfully labeled for the anatomically illiterate) was from the previous night's bacchanalia in honor of the 4th, and everyone was out late getting totally fucked up and tonight they are quietly wallowing in their own crapulent (it doesn't mean what it looks like, look it up!) wages of last night's many sins...

Sadly, no.

Around 11:30 it began with a bang and devolved from there. The most precious part by far was the withering rejoinders of the hostel staff to the oblivious reveling next door, like repeated (repeated, I say!) shouts of, "It's a quarter past Sh-h-h-h-h-h, PLEASE close your door or keep it down!" Um, yeah. You can guess how effective it was. I thought of the scene in Canadian Bacon where Rhea Perlman's character is up in the CNT with an automatic rifle and the mounties are buzzing about in helis begging her to please put away her gun and come down. Fortunately all things are impermanent, and I think most people were passed out by 2:30.

Now I am drinking a pint of coffee (that's right, served in a bona fide pint glass) with my bagel for breakfast. I love that we are listening to Bach's B-Minor Mass, one of my favorite oratorios ever. And there does seem to be a preponderance of ridiculously cute puppies here. My favorite so far is the little black lab mix who couldn't have been more than about 3 months who has tied a pretty sound tournequet around the tree to which his leash is girthed while waiting for his human to get coffee.

The Onion, Je T'adore!

Usually funny, but every so often they come up with something that blinds you and gives you vertigo with its unbridled awesome:


Bush Tours America To Survey Damage Caused By His Disastrous Presidency