"table for one" no more

People often say the best time to meet that special someone is when you weren't looking for him. Since moving out here, I've been perfectly happy being the mid-twenties, single girl, hitting up the town with my roommate, flirting comfortably, dating sporadically, or even just curling up alone on my couch at home with a movie and a bowl of salt and pepper popcorn. I certainly wasn't on the prowl for a boyfriend. In fact, committment was kind of a daunting word for me. Then it all began.

I can't really remember exactly when it started. I was a new student in my surgical rotation at a small community hospital. There were multiple PA's who worked in the OR. Everyone I'd met so far had been welcoming and friendly. None of the intimidation I'd heard about and expected for this kind of high intensity rotation. But there was one PA that irked me. Our first full conversation started off with him throwing out a total pimp question("Pimping" is what happens when med students are pelted with hard questions in front of everyone by the attending doctor).

"So, what's the difference between dementia and delerium?" he asked me.

"You suck" was my first, and luckily internal, reaction. "Hmm... the onset delerium is usually faster?" I responded.

"Delerium... is reversible." Damn, I thought. And that was that.

Here's the thing about pimping. As much as it sucks to be asked questions you don't fully know the answer to, it's one of the most effective ways of learning. I'll never forget the answer to that question now, but I suppose I'm also prone to remember this conversation because of whom it was with. After that day though, I decided I was intrigued, but I had other things to focus on. Better to write him off than to let him distract me.

The problem was, I wasn't distracted. As a matter of fact, it was quite the opposite. I studied harder because I wanted to be prepared the next time we spoke. When he left for a week to volunteer in Central America doing free orthopedic surgeries, I had to admit I was a little bummed... and a little more taken. Over those eight weeks, we would chat about our weekends while checking out the board where they scheduled the day's surgeries (kind of like the OR water cooler). Our paths didn't cross that often, but when they did, he would show me a patient with an interesting disease, or go over a cool x-ray. Occasionally, we would finish the day at the same time and coincidentally end up walking to the parking lot together.

Then, one night I took call on the same night he was on. We ended up working multiple cases together and not finishing until 1am. We must have been delerious (note: a delerium only reversible by food), because he suggested he, the anesthesiologist, and I grab a bite to eat at Denny's, while I, not caring that I had work at 7am the following morning, I agreed. For that hour, we met for the first time out of our scrubs and as people, not students or teachers or PAs.

As the end of my rotation neared, I didn't really know what to make of this friendship if it even was one. But on my last day at the hospital, he handed me a book we'd discussed earlier that week, The Last Lecture. It being my last day, we would have to speak to each other again outside of work if he ever wanted his book back. However, on my way out at the end of the day, all I could do was pop my head in to each OR and say a quick goodbye to the PAs since they were all still working. I poked my head into David's room and thanked him for a great rotation. He managed to pull one hand away from the surgery to make a "phone me" sign with his hand. I went back to the PA office and packed up my bag. I searched the office, but could not find the contact info for any of the PAs aside from my own mentor. Oh well, I guess he'll have to find a way to contact me if he ever wants his book back.

Ok, I wasn't going to make him do ALL the work. A few days later, I emailed my preceptor and mentioned the book loaning and hence the need for David's phone number or email. Before I could get a response though, I received a text... from David. I don't remember what he said, but I do remeber the following weeks of texts back and forth were witty and captivating. We discussed the book he'd loaned me and admitted our childhood dreams (mine was jumping in a huge pile of leaves, something you miss out on with West Coast autumn). We bet on our dancing skills. I recall speaking to my friend in Cali and telling her with guarded excitement that I may have just found (as she calls it) my "verbal sparring partner".

One weekend, there was a huge rally on the National Mall in DC and it turned out both of us were planning to attend. We decided to meet up. Unfortunately, we were not prepared for the cell phone jam that occurs when thousands of people gather in one place. I managed to get a text through to him later that day: "care to join me for a pumpkin carving contest/chili cookoff?" I left out the minute detail that the location of this even happened to be at a homeless shelter in a not-so-awesome part of town. I met a bewildered David at the metro station. He took it in stride when I explained that we were actually going to the place I volunteer. He got extra points for talking it up with some of my favorite residents. The chili by the way... incredible.

After that, we started seeing each other more often. Dinner here, an episode of Dexter there... our first kiss. Now that I will not try to describe here, but I would like to make it known that I... yes I made the first move.

There's one more event that I should mention since it really sealed the deal. One day I got an invitation to see David's place for the first time. I drove over, but before he would let me in, he made me close my eyes. I noticed as he guided my shoulders that we continued somewhere outside. When he finally told me to open them, I stared out at an enormous pile of LEAVES. He had led me to his backyard where he had piled leaves acquired from a co-workers yard. There was only one thing to do: I took a running start and dove into the pile, revelling in the golden, crunchy leaves. David soon joined in the fun. We took pictures, made leaf angels, burrowed into the heap until only our faces stuck out. It was then that I was certain I'd found a keeper. David had won me over with his humor, his thoughtfulness, and, among other things, leaves.

On December 14th, he texted explaining how he wanted to tell his mom about the new girl in his life. He asked if he could refer to me as his "girlfriend". I said definitely.

on the road

Here's another one of those entries I began, but never finished. But it would be a shame to delete it all just because I didn't make it to day 3 =)...

It is still difficult for me to grasp the reality of the present moment. Here I am, sitting in my homey apartment in Northern Virginia, staring out my window towards Washington DC, insulated from the 100+ degree summer heat. As familiar as LA and San Diego felt when I was home two weeks ago, I can no longer consider myself a resident. For all intents and purposes, I am a full blown Washingtonian.

But not only did I get to return home and reunite with family and friends for a week, but I also managed to do something I have yearned to do ever since I discovered my love for driving: road trip across the country.

The details were hazy at first, but my school required me to have a car out here, and shipping it seemed like a waste of a perfect opportunity. I rounded up my team of tried and true travelers and plotted out our meandering course across the southern United States. We gave our self six days and six destinations before reaching DC just in time for fourth of July. Our must see cities included Santa Fe, NM, Austin, TX, New Orleans, LA, Savannah, GA, Charleston, SC, and Richmond VA. Our journey began when I picked up Naomi and Surleen from Los Angeles early Saturday morning.

Day1: We determined early on that we would rather spend more time on the road earlier on so we would have more time to enjoy the places we really wanted to see in the south. Hence, our first day was scheduled for 13 hours of driving. As it was a Sunday, we made good time leaving LA, however our first challange came soon enough. As we approached the freeway for Las Vegas, we were suddenly bombarded with blinking signs indicating a freeway closure at Victorville, CA. We didn't heed this warning too seriously, thinking that there would be straightforward detour signs to skirt around the closure and quickly return to I-15. No such luck. Instead, we were forced to exit the freeway at an exit with one road to nowhere and certainly no detour signs. Even my GPS didn't want to cooperate. We wound up taking a significantly slower and more circuitous route on surface streets, eventually meeting up with the correct highway 2 hours behind schedule. Thankfully, this occured on our first day. As much as our sidetracking frustrated me, I was still in hopeful spirits and with Naomi and Surleen beside me, we could not be brought down. The rest of the day was geographically uneventful (read: endless desert), although we were pleasantly surprised to find beautiful mountain scenery and greenery in Northern Arizona. Flagstaff made it to a growing list of cities in which I could actually see myself living... were I ever to require a new city =).

Day 2: We woke up in a modest inn in Santa Fe, filled ourselves with a modest breakfast, and headed out to downtown Santa Fe. The city center was quaint and beautiful, a grassy square surrounded by adobe style buildings containing galleries and artistic souveniers. One side of the square was lined with blankets displaying copious amounts of silver and turquoise jewelry. Natives sat patiently behind them in fold out chairs selling their craft.

luck be a lady tonight?

Was it a sheer luck, or total unluck? Was it a sixth sense or a sense of idiocy? I don't know, but the good news is, it could have been worse, and this was a good lesson and wake up call for me and hopefully for you. Be constantly aware of your surroundings.

After having dinner in the district tonight, I took the metro home and got off at the Rosslyn station. Having had a large dinner I made an effort to walk up the escalator and hoof it up the hill to my apartment. As I approached my apartment, headphones in and enjoying the evening, I though how nice it would be to continue my walk and burn off a litte more of that meal. I've recently gotten fond of walking, so I chose to walk to the bridge overlooking the highway about a hundred yards past my apartment driveway. I only got about twenty feet though before realizing that the streetlights had ended past my driveway and everything was very dark all the way to the bridge. I slowed and decided that I didn't feel comfortable walking that far alone at 10:30pm. I just couldn't justify it. I had this feeling that if anything were ever to go wrong, it would most likely go wrong in this short stretch of darkness. So I turned around and headed back toward my lit driveway. I only got a few feet before I crossed a man who had been walking behind me. He looked to be in his late 20s or 30s and was a big fit guy with a shaved head, but nothing really menacing. He stopped me and asked which direction the Rosslyn Metro was. I pointed back the way he had come from, and as I answered 'that way', he reached forward and grabbed my chest. I was stunned. Before I could register if he was going for my purse or my phone in hand, or me, he turned around and began running in the direction of the metro. I stood there dazed for a moment. Honestly, my first reaction was awe that he hadn't tried to steal my purse, but then it hit me what he had done. He grabbed my chest. I ran up the driveway to my apartment, shaking as I opened the gate and shut it behind me.

Thank God my roommate was home. By the time I told her the story I was crying, not because of what happened but because of what could have happened. A slew of other possible outcomes attacked my imagination. So many strange coincidences ran through my head. Why tonight of all nights, did I decide to pass my appartment? What would have happened had I continued on into the darkness, headphones in, oblivious to my surroundings? Why did I decide to turn around when I did? Once I got it out of my system, I took a quick shower to recompose myself and then decided to call 911 and report it. Note to self: if something like this ever happens again, call 911 immediately, not 3o minutes later. Because then there's very little they can do in terms of finding the guy, and the officer who arrived at my apartment let me know it. He took down any detail I could provide, and told me to expect a call in a few days, citing that some people recal details days later. I didn't really believe him, but nodded my head. He left.

I don't know how else to look at this experience other than as a warning. I feel like I got off easy and I need to learn from it. I will. No more headphones when I'm walking alone at night. Never again will I walk down an unlit street. Tomorrow, I will figure out where I can buy pepper spray. To anyone reading this, please be aware of your surroundings, even if it is in a relatively safe neighborhood like mine. Try to avoid walking home alone when possible, or at least take the more populated path. Don't listen to your ipod when you're alone at night. Be vigilant. Be prepared. Stay safe.

DTR

(dated 1/13/10... I just never got around to posting it til now, oops!)

Its taken six months, but I finally feel like my social life has settled into something I am comfortable and content with. At first it was hard, maybe because I was the peppy girl from Californa who didn't quite understand the East Coast conventions of how to make friends out here. I still don't think I really get how it works, but time and patient persistence has finally won out. I finally feel like I have a steady group of people from my class who I can depend upon for ordering pizza to the library at 10pm, or for going out on the occassional night when we don't have a million things to worry about for the following day, or for discussing guy issues when we've hit a DTR wall.



Last night Rupa and I decided to celebrate our friendships by throwing a potluck dinner party at our place. Once we settled on a date, it took us another week to acutally send out invites, because we had to juggle which boys (of those we'd dated or were dating) to invite to avoid the most amount of awkwardness. My biggest issue was that I wanted to invite the guy I've been dating as well as a friend who I still have a major crush on. Lets start with the basics. For the last three weeks, I've been dating this lawer who I met at New Years at his party. On each of our dates, he has been beyond chivalrous (paying for meals AND my cab) and entirely drama-less. He calls (not just texts), he brought me flowers and chocolates on the second date. Our conversation is interesting and engaging. Hes got a ridiculous knowledge of DC restaurants and bars and knows all the best places for pretty much any type of food you can think of (and is totally willing to take me to all of them). Only thing is something is missing. I hate to admit it, but part of that something is the chase. I feel like I'm being shoffered into this relationship, not walking into it on my own accord. Is it immature to still want that chase?



I hear people talk about online dating, I find the biggest underlying problem is the expectations you have are different with people you meet on the web. The most pervasive complaint is that there is no mystery or wonder when both of you have already scoured one another's profile and know that you're mutually interested with similar expectations of a fruitful and long term relationship. In that sense I feel like I'm in the same boat, except this time I fear its a little one sided. He, being much older than I (early thirties), is probably looking for something more serious than I am ready to provide. He's done all the traditional things to woo a girl, and has left nothing to doubt. Maybe in 7 years, that will be exactly what I want, but right now, it just doesn't do it for me. Theres no mystery.



Then, on the opposite end of the spectrum, there's Mr. Mystery who I've been frustratingly chasing after since I met him a few months ago. Looking back on that sentence, you'd think I'd realize my idiocy and give up already. But I can't help it. He's got the rugged charm, the cute body, and fantastic (Italian) cooking skills. Just clearly, none of the committment skills. We've hung out multiple times, though the majority of it has been under the pretext of studying, not a legitimately defined date. Yet every time we usually end up chatting and sipping our coffee instead of studying. What am I supposed to do with that? Feel free to clear up this mystery for me.

I'm stuck somewhere in the center of the frenzy that is 'dating in DC'. But hey, its fun and at least I'm putting myself out there. As for the dinner party, I took a deep breath and invited both. Don't worry, all went smoothly. If only my life could run the same way =).