soul food

My nephew and I, wearing our LiveStrong bracelets. 

Laughing with my nephew.

I haven't updated in over a week, because I went up North for 7 days to visit family. I needed something to yank me out of this rut and reinvigorate me. I spent lots of time with family, my nephew, mentors and friends, and kids. It was just what I needed to restore my soul and fill up my heart. I had dinner with the family I used to nanny for, visited my former coworkers (and really realized how much I've missed them), met with 2 mentors......And now I'm back in Chapel Hill, and trying to figure things out. 

I won't be going to UNCG. When I was in NJ, several people asked me why I wasn't looking at oncology nursing.....I guess I just always felt like it was so gender-stereotyped, and I didn't want to be shoved into that mold. So UNC chapel hill has an MSN oncology nursing program....but you have to have a BSN, and they have an accelerated program. It's a thought. We'll see. 

One of my new obsessions is the brand lululemon. It's a brand of yoga wear that just seems so neat. Expensive, but their stuff is reeealllly cute. 

lululemon stuff

Latest Obsessions

Music: A Fine Frenzy, Gillian Welch

Food: Haribo gummy bears

Soda: diet Sunkist

Lipgloss: Stila cherry crush

by the way, has anyone else seen that "cotton: the fabric of our lives" commercial with Zooey Deschanel? So weird. I can't believe she did that commercial. 

ghosts of memory

It is a small, small world. I am watching the Bravo tv show, the infamous NYC Prep.....believe me, it is NOT a stellar show, and honestly, no real Upper East Side established family would ever let their kids be on it. Anyway, one of the girls on the show was interviewing voice coaches, and I realized that one of the voice coaches was the mother of someone I went to middle school with. Namely, the boy who had AML (acute myelogeous leukemia) and passed away when he was 13 and I was 12. I could not believe it. That was a pivotal event in my life, one whose shockwaves still reverberate today. When I think of why I want to be a pediatric oncologist, Erik is one of the first things that goes through my mind. 

i BLEED Carolina blue, damnit.

Today ended up to be one of those quintessential Chapel Hill days....a kind of day that I would really miss if I moved to NY. I ran some errands in the morning, and then my friend L called me to see if I wanted to go to the organic co-op, sit outside, and "work on job applications". Instead, we got organic sodas for 75cents a can, and yummy cookies, and sat outside and just talked. And I killed some bugs, one of which was very bloody and got all over my MCAT chem book. good times. I'm not exactly a nature lover, if you haven't noticed. In fact -- and this is true, just ask my mother -- I was never even a Girl Scout. The reason why? I didn't like their uniforms, I thought they were ugly. I told this to L and she laughed and said that was a "very Jaime thing to say". Anyway, we ended up walking to the local farmers market, where I got 3 decent sized potatoes for less than a dollar, and ended up making potato slices with butter, rosemary, salt, and pepper. And it's one of those days where it's warm, but not too warm to comfortably sit outside for hours. L and I talked about jobs, possible relocations.....and she even said I love NY.....but honestly, I really love my life here, too. It's so much less pressurized, and relaxed....but would I be willing to sacrifice an amazing career move for that? I don't know. I honestly don't know the answer to any of these questions I have right now. 

And when I got home, I got a nice letter from UNCG, telling me that they are refusing to classify me as in-state tuition. Mind you - I moved here in August 2007. To be considered a resident, you need to have lived in NC for 12 months prior to applying. I sent them proof of my NC drivers license, registration, car insurance, income taxes, property taxes paid, voting registration -- and got a nice letter telling me I needed to have a bona fide (they italicized it) domicile residence here for at least 12 months. I'm not quite sure what the problem is, but I do know this: if I don't get in-state tuition, I'm not going to UNCG. The difference between instate and out of state is more than $20k a year, and as bad as this sounds, I really don't think UNCG is worth $30k a year. I'm not doing that, that's ridiculous. In which case...........I'm not sure what my life is turning into, actually. 

In search of a good Philly pretzel....

Boathouse Row in the daytime

Boathouse Row at night

I grew up in NJ (hold the jokes, please), but not the Sopranos NJ that everyone knows - that's North Jersey. I grew up in South Jersey, about 15 minutes from Philadelphia. I root for the Philadelphia Flyers, the Philly Eagles, and the Phillies. In high school, my friends and I would go to South Street and hang out, which was a street filled with restaurants, coffee shops, tattoo/piercing shops, hippie stores, punk stores, etc. During the summer, my camp would take trips to the Academy of Natural Sciences, the Franklin Institute (which is STILL one of my favorite places), and the Art Museum. My mom and I would run the Race for the Cure every year, warming up on the art museum steps -- yes, the same ones Rocky ran up in the movie.  I interned at the Hospital of the University of Pennsylvania when I was getting my MS in clinical health psychology, and have spent more time on the campuses of Drexel University and Penn than I can even count. When I would drive home at night from classes, I'd cross the bridge over to NJ, and at night, Boathouse Row would be all lit up, and it remains one of my favorite memories. 

Of course, Philly has changed a lot over the years. My brother couldn't pronounce it right, and he once called it "Filthy-delphia"...which isn't far from the truth. Crime rates have risen, and I would never, ever go to South Street at night now. Why the sudden nostalgia? Rocky is on tv right now, and it made me laugh at first -- because Sly Stallone reminds me of my dad. A lot. But then it cut to a shot of the art museum, and it actually made me a little homesick. I miss philly soft pretzels you buy on the corner, the planetarium at the Franklin Inst, Cereality on Penn's campus, Tiffany's at the Bellevue...I haven't had a real Philly pretzel in I don't know how long. mmm. 

Anyway.....just watching Rocky and feeling nostalgic, and missing NJ a little tonight....

but I don't live in the Rocky Mountains....

Yes, I am blogging on a friday night. I've been so exhausted lately, but I might finally have a reason why. I went to the doctor's today, and have been started on prophylaxis/treatment of Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, which is transmitted by tick bites. yeah. Symptoms can take a few weeks to really develop, and I had thought I got bitten about a month ago, but it wasn't a traditional bulls-eye rash. So....fast-forward to the past few weeks, w/weird bruising, spotty rashes on my arms/feet, GI probs, sleep probs, chills, fatigue, headaches....because tests for this and Lyme Disease often come up with unreliable results, he just put me on 10 days of antibiotics, because the treatment and prophylaxis are the same. So hopefully I will start to feel better soon. THIS is why I am so not an outdoorsy girl. Give me the wilds of Fifth Ave anytime. 

Right now, I'm not sure what I am doing with my life in the fall. I am still enrolled in UNCG, but I've also been applying to jobs....so I really don't know what is going to happen. It makes me nervous, but I have to learn to deal with that. 

reflections on independence

My brother and Trey

Me being me, of course I've been analyzing my life to death lately.....I feel like I'm in a sort of emotional/physical purgatory -- neither here nor there, just sort of existing. It's a very disconcerting place to be. It's a constant effort not to stagnate at the bottom, you know? Right now, what seems to work is frequently reminding myself to take things one minute at a time, one hour at a time, one day at a time. I just have this moment. I don't have to solve my life's problems or have my new life plan by tomorrow. It will be okay. Another thing that helps is talking to my nephew, and getting pictures of him from my family on my cell phone. He brings such a joy to my life; one that is unmatched. I also find it helps to focus on my gratitude for what I have in my life. It's hard to feel hopeless or down when you're filled with gratitude. 

I applied for a job that has nothing to do with cancer....it's more education/counseling. They wanted someone with a Master's in counseling, public health, student affairs, etc - and, oh, I happen to have two. So I applied. Sometimes I find myself wondering if, despite my fascination and love for oncology, I am able to do it. The emotional component is a large part of what drives me to do this work, but at the same time, that emotional part threatens to overtake me, because of the anger and (at times) feelings of desperation and hopelessness. Most of the time I can channel these into something productive, but sometimes, it just doesn't happen. And I do miss the counseling relationships I used to have. There's something very humbling about being allowed into someone's emotional life. You're in that shared space, and sometimes the lines are blurred, and the learning and healing goes both ways.

I'm reading these books, "Tweak", by Nic Sheff, and "Beautiful Boy", by David Sheff, his father. The two books chronicle Nic's drug addiction and recovery process, told from two very, very different viewpoints. And I got to thinking about my brother. My brother struggled with addiction when he was in high school, and has been clean and sober for over 7 years. I am so incredibly proud of him. He bought a house, he has a job, he is an attentive and loving father to his son, and he really has made a life for himself. School never came easy to him, and he's had to work pretty hard for everything he has. He literally hit bottom, and has journeyed so far from where he was years ago. Has it been an easy, smooth path? No; it never is. He hurt and lied to every single person in the family during his using. He was belligerant and volatile and hell-bent on self-destruction. But with a lot of work, rehab, NA meetings, a sponsor.....he did it. And I don't often tell my brother how proud I am of how far he's come, but today I did just that. I called him and told him so. 

just another summer day

Life has a funny way of working out. I'm not going to discuss specifics, but I got an interesting phone call about a possible job in NYC the day I moved into my new place here in NC. I then had a surprise phone interview yesterday and I'm waiting to hear about an in-person interview. Craziness. 

I'm watching Wimbledon right now, and it always reminds me of high school summers -- I'd watch Wimbledon in early/mid-summer, and usually the US Open coincided with tennis tryouts, so I'd come home from tryouts/practice and watch tennis. I would measure my summers by tennis. When my dad got home from work, we'd go to the tennis courts and play a few sets, and then I'd run the lines. Summer has always been intertwined with my racquet getting re-strung, buying a new grip cover, and popping open new cans of tennis balls. I still love tennis as much as I did, although I don't get to play nearly as much. But that feeling of being back on the court, thwacking a two-handed backhand.....losing myself in the flow of the game....the tennis court was somewhere I was confident, I was in my element. In the midst of confusion, it was a refuge. Tennis just clicks for me. I miss it a lot. 

In the wake of Michael Jackson and Farrah Fawcett's passing, someone also worth mentioning is Dr.Jerri Nielsen Fitzgerald. She was the doctor who was in Antarctica and diagnosed and biopsied her own breast cancer. I read her book, Ice Bound, which tells her amazing story. She had chemo airlifted and sent to her, and her cancer went into remission, but returned 5 years later, and metastasized to her liver, bones, and brain. She was only 57, and died last week as well. 

When I hear things like that, and think of everyone I know who has been diagnosed, it just reminds me why I am pursuing oncology. But if I get this job....I might have to put that to rest. I'd still be working in oncology....but not as a physician. It brings up a lot of tough choices and lots of emotion. 

everything changes.

I hate moving. I've mentioned this before. Maybe it has something to do with all the moving around during the divorce (you attachment theorists would have a field day with that one, huh). I don't know. Maybe it's just because I hate change. But of course, the only constant is change, as we all know. I took 3 Jeep-loads of stuff to my new brownstone, and mostly all I have left is a few boxes, and room stuff, like my bedside table, bed, bookcase, and drawers. Hopefully it shouldn't be too bad. Today my neighbors must have enjoyed the entertainment I provided as the bottom of my box labeled "kitchenware" fell out and dishes, thermoses, and coffee mugs went tumbling down the grass and landed on the concrete parking lot. My favorite Orla Kiely mug that my grandparents bought me broke, and a lid to a pot got nicely dented. Thankfully, my menorah and my Anne Taintor mug survived intact. 

Packing up my stuff makes me sad. Besides the fact that I love this condo, and I still have some bitterness that the PhD program didn't work out and therefore I won't be buying this place and staying in it, going through my stuff reminds me of where I've been. The blue dishes that I have are ones that my dad bought me when I graduated college and moved into my first place of my own, in Ft Lauderdale. He surprised me one night when I came home from work with a bunch of stuff for my apartment. The purple fake lilacs in a mason jar on the shelf in my bathroom have been with me since Florida -- my mom bought them for me when she helped move me in to that apartment, because she said all houses should have flowers. Those lilacs have also been with me everywhere - FL, Manhattan, NJ, NC....they've been a constant. Even the chip clips I still have from when I first moved down to Chapel Hill bring back the memory of me, my mom, and my dad (yes, the three of us) food shopping together, because they both helped move me in down here. Even at the age of 28, I enjoy having these mementos of my parents helping me become independent. And now, I have my new Orla Kiely tumblers and plates and mugs that my mom and my grandparents bought for me during graduation weekend, and numerous pictures of my sweet nephew to put up in my new room. It reminds me of the Melissa Etheridge song form the movie Boys on the Side (one of my very favorite movies EVER), "I'll take you with me..." -- wherever I go, I always have these memories. 

Knowing this might be my last night in this house makes me remember this past year.....moving in after a summer in NY, getting lost driving in Southern Village, having the recycling Nazi lady yell at me, my roommate and I comparing JCrew purchases, pink poker night, lazy Sundays watching America's Next Top Model all day, walking Izzi (the dog)....I had a good year here, overall. I had my ups and downs...sometimes more downs, but I've enjoyed my stay here. Am I jealous of the people moving in? Oh yeah. Wicked jealous. Really. But, life goes on....I guess. 

Latest obsession: Haribo gummy bears. Damn, these are good. 

Losing Everything

I'm reviewing books for Elle magazine. I've read 2 books today, and one is titled Losing Everything, by David Lozell Martin. Initially, the book didn't seem interesting to me. It's nonfiction, and details his struggles growing up and various bouts with depression, marital infidelity, and financial ruin. But I kept reading, because his words are suffused with humanity -- and by that, I mean that it is easy to relate to his writing, even if your circumstances are very, very different. His ability to convey basic human emotion is excellent. Toward the end of the book, there is a passage that jumped out at me. 

"...At the end of your life, at the very summation of your life, all that matters is what you've done....This is the thirteenth book I've published. It doesn't matter what effort it took for me to write them. It doesn't matter how far back from the pack I had to start in the race to become a writer. It doesn't matter what else was going on in my life. All that matters is that I wrote the books and they are published and people read them. I'd like to write thirteen more, but what I'd like to do doesn't count in the end. That's the latest lesson I learned -- if it's important to you, do it. Because not doing it, while having a good excuse, doesn't mean anything in the end." 

Sugarland, summer adventures, and medical musings

I am sick of buying cards for people because of cancer. I am sick of hearing that people I care about are getting surgery because of more rogue cells. I am getting tired of the heartbreak, of the helpless feelings, and of the non-answers the medical community has to give so many of us regarding cancer. But I also know that those IN the medical community are just as frustrated.....because, dare I say, I am one of those people. I have my MS, my MPH, I've been with the LAF and i2y...I think maybe I can say that. And maybe that's why this is such a double-edged sword for me. Part of me wants to bury my head in the sand and just not think of cancer ever again, but a bigger part of me wants to learn everything I can about it and DO something about it. It drives me to push myself toward more. 

It's been a busy week....in the span of 4 days, I worked over 40 hours babysitting - although, most of the time, it didn't feel like work, since these kids are awesome. I got to spend time at the pool with them, got tan/burned, went to Sugarland, one of my favorite places here in Chapel Hill, went to Starbucks with them, and had many domestic adventures, to say the least. But I came home every night, exhausted and worn out. And I'm trying to put together my schedule, but it's incredibly frustrating. And the financial aid stuff is stressing me out......I had somewhat of an internal breakdown the other day, because I thought, what in G-d's name am I doing? Can I really do this? Really? Is this all a big mistake??? And you know what, I'm terrified. I miss NY, I miss working at MSKCC, I'm scared of these science classes.....but I know that if I don't at least give it my best shot, I will always wonder, what if....and I'm sick of wondering that. I'm sick of regretting things. As Wayne Gretzsky once said, you always miss 100% of the shots you DON'T take. This is a journey....one that I am not familiar with at all,  and one that will be challenging. I've never really truly had to work at schoolwork. But I will have to work my butt off for this. This stuff does not come easy to me. I haven't been challenged like this before, and I think it will be good for me. 

I'm reviewing books again for Elle magazine, yay! I just got a shipment from them for the year-end prize thing, but I'm reviewing books for their October issue, but haven't gotten those yet. I'm looking forward to it. 

This weekend will be filled with moving and packing. I HATE moving. Always have. I want to settle down somewhere......but probably won't for a while. 

I've been thinking a lot about last summer in Manhattan. As I was there, I knew that it was an amazing summer. I knew what a great opportunity it was. Heck, I still carry around my MSKCC lanyard in my bag for luck. I miss it every day. If offered a job there, would I take it? Possibly. I would really give it considerable thought. I loved every day there. Is it worth paying exorbitant amounts of money to live in NY? maybe, for a short time. I do love it there. 

I don't know. I've never had so many emotions and thoughts and things pulling me in so many directions before. I don't have any easy answers here....I don't have any answers, actually. Does this make me uneasy? Of course. Do I feel untethered and ungrounded? Yes. But I have to have faith that the universe is unfolding as it should.....I just have to have blind faith, I think.