Harlingen vacillates, between mid-December flip-flop weather - sunshine so bright it makes the asphalt look white and perfect strolling temperatures, and this dreary grayness that spits rain like a leaky faucet and is just cold enough to be uncomfortable. I think it's because of where we're situated geographically; the winds change frequently, and it seems like we get a different cold front coming down from the north every other week, punctuated by the regular south-Texas warmth. Today is dreary, but at least we had a nice Christmas yesterday - it was warm and sunny, and after opening present i spent the rest of the day in the kitchen, cooking up rice with pimientos, sweet potato soufle with marshmallows, green beans and broccoli (not in the same dish), roasted pheasants, white-tail deer tenderloin, honeyed ham, and wasail punch.

Now, I've got little to do but await contact from the administration. I've submitted my preliminary requests for third-year clerkships, and have been assured that all of my placements will meet Texas requirements. I suppose I should start gathering information and figuring out exactly what will be required of me, and exactly how I can go above and beyond that - I could be wrong, but based on what I've heard about some of the students, and what I've seen in my own colleagues, it will not be difficult for me to out-work the people sharing rotations with me. Perhaps the greatest advantage I have other them, though, is that I've lived with a doctor for 18 years - my father and I bonded over reviewing his procedures. That being the case, I know that it really pisses doctors off when they feel like they have something to teach you, and it's obvious you want to be somewhere else. I have done well in the basic sciences, but I am going to shine on the wards.

Running. Rumming.

Ross had this thing called "UMBR", their University Medical Board Review Course. It was conducted several evenings a week and one weekday morning throughout the 5th semester in Miami by the clinical faculty, and, in my opinion, was nearly useless - except for the fact that it was the gateway: 90% attendance was mandatory in order to be allowed to attend the final 10 days - a fantastic review of pharm and physio by Dr. Wazir Kudrath, who teaches for Kaplan. Thus, I actually sat through some of that information twice, which was a positive thing. I bring it up because, during those final few days, Nicole and I started working out in the mornings (the courses were 8 hours a day, starting at 1pm or something like that). That generally isn't my thing; my body takes a while to wake up, regardless of whether I'm doing weights, running, or something else. However, working out early gets it out of the way and frees up the day - so that's what I did today. During my year off, I had this enjoyable running route that took me down highways and over fields - around 5 to 5.5 miles. It was exciting to get back to it, but working out after a 12 hour fast is tough work, especially with unpleasantly vicious winds going against you half-way.

Nicole makes this rum cake that I absolutely love. Love. She sent two for me (one for the family - I ate that one first) a few weeks ago, and the last piece disappeared yesterday. That tragedy impelled me - emboldened me - to try my hand at my own rum cake! I googled a recipe, and actually came up with the same one she uses. So, after my run today (and before the arrival of my favorite Jamaican grandmother, who always comes down for Christmas), Caleb and I went out to pick up the ingredients. I started right after we got home - Nicole said that she'd consult for me, but that this was an incredibly easy recipe, which it was. I had the kid brother crisco the bundt pan while I took care of everything else. While it cooked, we went off to enjoy his birthday present - Halo 3:ODST. After an hour, I made the glaze and brushed it all over. I'd forgotten to poke holes so that it could permeate, but that was soon remedied. Now - I'm not an awesome cook, but I can survive; I can make a few things, and I've lived on my own and cooked for myself. I can cook, but I'm not a gourmet chef; the things I make are tasty, but few of them are as beautiful as this:

Apparently, one of my mother's friends uses the same recipe, but with coconut rum. I was only half-joking when I said I'd try it out tomorrow.

10 Point Buck

I've been back in South Texas for a few weeks now, and after a few hunting trips of watching the wildlife walk by (lots of doe, a bobcat, some rabbits, and two trespassing teenagers), I got my first shot at a buck in about 9 years. Dad and I were sitting out in a blind on his lease about 45 minutes away from Harlingen at the end of a rainy, gray week. Luckily, we didn't get stuck in the mud this time, and the weather had warmed up to the mid 60's by about 4:00pm, when we got to the blind. We were only sitting there for about 45 minutes when we saw a small doe walk out from the right side of the shooting lane just under the feeder, about 100 yards away. She moved back and forth, and was finally joined by another doe. At this point, Dad turned to me and whispered "We have meat in the freezer - you don't have to shoot a doe....unless you just really want to." On another lease last week, I'd chosen just to let the doe walk by, enjoying nature and waiting for something better. Fortunately, I made the same choice yesterday - the two doe had not even been gone for a minute, when a 10 point buck stepped out onto the lane! He wasn't out for the sparsely scattered corn; he was following the girls - and he'd have disappeared after them if there hadn't been some quick action. Dad grabbed his deer call as I set my rifle on the rest, my heart thumping a hundred miles an hour. I don't remember him blowing the call; all I remember is looking through the scope to see this buck stop, turn broad side, and look up at us - and then cross-hairs on his shoulder, and the shot. I looked up to see that he'd dropped right where he stood.

Bellerophon

I had a post a while back called "I, Dragonslayer", that dealt with the removal of a large gecko from Nicole's room in Dominica. Perhaps I should have waited until I truly killed a dragon - we received our step 1 scores today. I got a 239/99.

Ambergris Horizon

I got up to run today - getting the workouts out of the way opens up the whole day. It was chilly, though; the sky was the color of ash and a fine, ice-needle mist blew in from the north. Once that was out of the way, I stretched and watched CSI before searching for the car keys for 45 minutes. Finally, though, I got to Starbucks, and finished Carlos Ruiz Zafon's The Angel's Game - folks on Amazon didn't like this one as much as The Shadow of the Wind, partly because it was a more violent and dreary tragedy - but those were exactly the reasons I liked it more. I like my escapism - whether it's music, movies, or literature - to be slightly heavy (think Everlast's What it's Like, Will Smith in Seven Pounds, or Park Chan Wook's Oldboy), and this was exactly the right kind of heavy.

While I was sitting in Starbucks yesterday, I met my new girl - Beth Rowley. She was singing Nina Simone's "Nobody's Fault but Mine", which sounds like a little Joss Stone, a little Diana Krall, and maybe a little Winehouse (although, personally, I'd like to hear Nina's voice over Beth's instrumentals). I haven't discovered a whole lot of new music - time for searching was limited with this whole medical education and all. More than that, though, I think it's because I'm driving less - my daily commute used to provide exposure to new artists, and familiarity with the ones I already knew. I was driving yesterday, listening to Common's Finding Forever album (which is orders of magnitude better than Universal Mind Control), when I realized that, in addition to missing the music, I missed driving. It's so calming; it was like I'd snuck back into a little cocoon that I'd forgotten about. The enclosed space - empty but for myself - has been very relaxing these past few days.

Once I finished The Angel's Game, the sky darkened to marbled charcoal, the temperature continued to plummet, and the rain swelled from the ice pricks to fat dollops that hit my windshield like grapeshot. I walked through Waldenbooks in the mall, amazed at how many storefronts had closed up since I'd last been here. Some of them had simply moved to other locations, but some of them, I'm sure, disappeared forever - the whole thing felt hollow. So I left and went about collecting the things on my list, braving the gathering storm as I drove beneath powerlines covered in the big, black birds that always appear whenever the weather turns. I got most of what I needed, but after searching through three stores, I still couldn't find the tcb hair oil I usually use - it's like this town has forgotten that they have black people. I did, however, make an unexpected find - following Thanksgiving dinner, when I poured out an unfortunately tasteless Tempranillo, I'd promised my father that I'd get him a Malbec, since I'd never had one I didn't like. I was searching through the rows of HEB's wines, when I saw not just any Malbec, but Terrazas De los Andes! This was the wine Nicole and I had fallen in love with in Argentina, and hadn't seen anywhere in any of the stores in Miami.

By the time I was ready to come home, the sky was as black as the roads - it was like driving through a tunnel, along the slick floor of which spilled red and white neon glares, dragged by headlights and taillights. I opened the wine as soon as I was in the door, and it was almost as good as I remembered - almost, because the company just wasn't the same.

I'm still relishing the idleness - stuff'll have to be done soon.....but not yet.