A place to call "home"

There are a lot of habits that D and I have slipped in to over the years. One of my favorites is that we'll usually find ourselves in deep, soul-searching conversations during road trips. It's something we've been doing since we were teenagers, and I absolutely love it. One of us will come up with an open-ended question, and we'll spend time piecing together our thoughts by talking through them out loud. {To be fair, this is not the only way we pass the time in the car. There are frequent breaks for singing at the top of our lungs, dance parties from the waist up, and road-raging with a sailor-like mouth. Okay, so that last part is just me. I am the worst backseat driver.}

On a post-call day trip we took early last week, our conversation of choice was this: If you had to pick one place to call home for the rest of your life, what places would be in the running? And why?

This was a really tough question for me. I tend to fall in love with cities because I'm a sucker for nostalgia--once I've had a positive memorable experience somewhere, it has a special piece of my heart forever. And on the flip side, I can't really imagine living in places that I haven't at least visited.  Here are the five cities that I came up with:

City meets sea, tummy meets Mexican food.  

Sunny for 360 days out of the year? A world of yes.

After living here for five formative years, there will always be a tug at my heart to return.

 

Crisp air and clean streets.

Ridiculously fit people with a love for the great outdoors.

 I've never met a Coloradan who wasn't (a) incredibly kind, and (b) hilarious.

Dude. This place is, like... so chill, brah.

All the beachy perks of San Diego, but without the crowds or traffic.

My parents lived here in their early twenties. I can't get enough of visiting their old haunts.

The greatest city in America.

You will never have a better meal than at Girl and the Goat.

I realize both of the above are bold claims, but after four years of frequent visits, I stand behind those statements 100%.

Sailboats, seafood, and sensational people-watching.

 It practically always feels like fall weather here. Read: boots and scarves for.ev.er.

I agreed to a lifetime with Dr. D while standing in Crissy Field, so it seems only fitting that now this is the closest "big city" to visit during residency. I can't wait to explore it again and again over the years.

So there you have it! D's list was fairly similar to mine, except he included New York City and Los Angeles instead of Ventura and Denver. What about you guys--what's missing from our list of possibilities? Where do you hope you end up?

2013

{I could explain this photo, but I'll let your  imagination run wild}

So, hi.

Last time we spoke, Dr. D wasn't actually a doctor yet. And if we're going to get all technical (which we are because this is my blog and I do what I want, obvs), I wasn't a master yet. I like to joke that my degree sounds cooler, particularly when I make claims to be a doctor's master. But I digress.

When I think about the fact that I posted a whopping 3 times in 2012 (dismal!), it would appear to have been an uneventful year. On the contrary, it was rather chaotic. Yet somehow we find ourselves on the other side of that tunnel, panting from holding our breath and a little frayed around the edges from the speed of it all, but ultimately in a place that is exactly where we want to be.

But now here's the weird part: D has had to take off at a full sprint again, and I'm taking a breather (somewhat involuntarily, thanks to a tough and limited job market). I'm hoping that with some of this free time I find myself with--and I keep trying to tell myself to enjoy it while I can--I'll be able to get back into the swing of blogging and connecting with other people who are in med couples across the country.  Because let's be honest, we have some pretty great stories to tell.

With that, I say: bring it, 2013.

Dodging Stress Bullets

I had one of those forgotten-class-stress-dream moments today.

You know the one I'm talking about. You're just going along in your dream, minding your own dreamy business, when the dream-version of a kid you haven't seen since like seventh grade is all, "Man, are you ready for this calculus final today?" and you're like, "Wait, I'm in a calculus class?!" and they're like "Yeah, you've been enrolled this whole time... I was wondering why you haven't been going to class!" and then you're like (1) thanks a lot, jerk, for reminding me about this now, and (2) I have to go take this freaking final right now! And you're super stressed out and you don't even consider the possibility that you could just drop the dang class because you're just going to be a liberal arts major anyway.

And then you wake up and you're like, whew, dodged that derivative bullet.  Relief.

I had a similar experience today, except without the dreaming. I just got this overwhelming sense that there was all this stuff that I should have already done--finishing classwork in the degree program that I'm wrapping up, finding myself a job in California, figuring out where we're going to live--and I froze for a second and thought to myself, what have I been doing with my time?!

And then I realized it's only been a week since we found out we'll be moving. Breathe, self. Chillax.

Dr. D has a job. I've already applied to one of my own, and there are other prospects on the horizon. There is no shortage of places to live, for crying out loud. It's a major city. And once I write a few more papers, I'll be done with my Masters.

Yes, there's a lot to do over the next couple of months, but we will get through it.

Sometimes you just have to smack yourself awake and put things into perspective.  And something tells me I'm going to have to do that quite a bit before we move.

To those of you in a similar situation, what are some things you do to keep things in perspective?

To the future!

{many thanks to Dr. P for this artistic interpretation of our future}