Back in NYC for.... what?

Sadly, I'm writing this post at midnight having already been back home in NYC for a couple days. Tomorrow morning I jump on yet another flight, this time back to SLC for the family Thanksgiving basketball tournament and the holiday celebrated to provide such an occasion. It's good to be back in NYC and seeing old friends, but I'm already a little nostalgic for the morning bikerides in the early sunlight, quiet paddings-about in the Finns home, and the daily wondering if the S.F. peninsula holds some part of my future. Now unfortunately I'm already getting a little cabin-feverish in my apartment and the reality of sparse Rad Onc interviews is beginning to set in, but that's another story.

A quick summary of my last week in P.A. along with the latest and last of the pictures:

Saturday - Went to ward temple day with the P.A. YSA folks. In the CR had a good visit with Ms. W. and met a girl that I'd home taught at BYU. Later that night, a trip to S.F. for some Karaoke.

Sunday - Church followed by dinner + Settlers of Cataan with T.B. and his woman.

Monday - Stayed at work until 11:30 PM working on my presentation. That's pretty tame by NYC standards, but when you're riding your bike home through the black silent hills, it's another story. After relishing a tasty meal the Finn's had left for me and a perusal of the Christian Science Monitor, continued working until... well, too late to want to admit.

Tuesday - Gave my presentation. Got good feedback on it, but you never know for sure. Regardless of whether it pushed me one way or the other in terms of getting an interview, I learned a lot and felt good about what I made of it. Later on that night, S. O. came by to share some Pinkberry-esque frozen yogurt and chat in a pleasant farewell sort of way. What a good soul. One of the several new friends here (right up there with the Finns and Prosecutor W.)

Wednesday - Date night! Of course, having no car, I had to ride my bike to the restaurant in downtown P.A. where we were meeting. Generously, I was offered her brother-in-law's wetsuit for surfing that weekend.

Thursday - Hmmm...

Friday - The residents bought lunch for me and the other med student, B.T., and let us have the afternoon off. I was planning on going down to Big Sur to do some surfing for T.B.'s bachelor party, and was still trying to secure a ride (and a full-length wet suit--see above). B.T. offered to give me a lift on the way down to his home in Fresno (another good soul), but things ended up working out with me getting a ride down with P.J., my roommate W.D.'s cousin, and a guy from my freshman ward, R.G. We got to the campground where we sat around sharing T.B. stories and drinking home-made root beer made by his brother (we all convinced ourselves that the funky taste we couldn't put our fingers on was due to a benign non-Word of Wisdom-breaking byproduct of the yeast). I spent a lot of time looking up in the sky at the stars.

Saturday - Woke up sore from a deflated mattress and cold from the damp late-November air. After feasting on pancakes, steak-flavored eggs, bacon, and crazy-tasting root beer, we slid into our wetsuits and ran down to the beach with boards under-arm. It was a little strange not wearing anything underneath some other guy's wetsuit, but I quickly got over it. The beach was beautiful:

Awesome beach. (Unfortunately, it was also REALLY rocky in the shallows, and my feet ached for a day afterwards accented by the pain from several cuts)

Me from a strange angle.

Man of the hour waxing his board.

As cool as I felt with my wetsuit and long-ish hair hanging out with a bunch of surfer dudes, it was definitely a beginner's performance on my part--but a lot of fun. I ended up riding most of the waves on my stomach with occasional attempts to stand up. These were always quickly followed by my longboard becoming a high-velocity missile shooting out from under my feet.

After some lazying around in the sun back at camp, I had to head home with R.G. while the others went back out in the late afternoon. Back at The Ranch, it was time for the sad task of packing my things and saying goodbye to the Finns--such good folks:

The Red Eye flight back was quiet. I slept the whole way.

The Evil Eye that Lead to the Gates of Hell (now you have to read this...)

So on Monday afternoon, I had the opportunity of working with The Boss (residency program director), who is as fiery as they come. In between patients, I got to hear stories of her near-miss accidents on her bike over the weekend and various other panicky encounters. Hilarious. My favorite quote of the day was while talking to one of the patients, and upon hearing that the patient (a little girl) liked to swim, immediately asked, “Do you open your eyes under water?” “No”, came the reply. “Neither do I.” Well, at least we’re all on the same page.

Anyway, throughout the day I noticed that my eye was becoming progressively itchy, teary, and goop-producing. Great, I thought. You see, I’ve had a low-grade cold/sore throat for a week, and on top of feeling kind of spacey, I now was self-conscious that whoever I was talking too was thinking, “Does he know he has that goop coming out of his eye?” Including the Boss. Of course, no one said anything. But when I woke up the next morning, I couldn’t open my left eye. After cleaning it all off, I looked in the mirror and saw a nasty Pink Eye glaring right back at me. Pink eye! The disease of diseases that makes day care center directors shriek in horror and start wiping down plastic Fischer Price slides with Clorox wipes. Unsure of whether I should call in sick or not, I finally decided to head into work since I knew my resident might be too busy to see our first patient on-time. Of course, on seeing me he freaked out and called the ophthalmology resident. I did, however, see some patients that morning, which probably wasn’t the best idea. It wasn’t until the afternoon that I finally was able to see an ophthalmologist who told me that I couldn’t have any patient contact until it cleared up. I think he was serious, since after shaking hands, I saw him wiping his pen with an alcohol swab.

(My eye was worse)

Well, this story is dragging on. Anyway, the next day I took off (since I woke up with pink eye x 2 – which I figured approximately doubled my risk of being contagious), and spent it lounging around the Finn’s house and reading in front of a fire. After getting a little cabin-feverish, I headed down to the campus library. After parking the car, I happened to discover the school’s own Rodin sculpture garden, with several originals, including The Gates of Hell:


The rest of the day was uneventful. Found some good articles on intracranial ependymomas and eventually made my way back to The Ranch. Random encounter: When I returned back to the Finns, their dentist was there making a house visit (who knew dentists did that?—well, this one does). It turns out his daughter knows one of the residents here through their mutual interest in competitive running. An interesting connection.

A great weekend

Saturday (11/3) was spent sleeping in, and then taking a trip over to campus to do some work. Some great shots on the way there:

What community would be complete without its own horse park?
... or its own linear accelerator and high-energy particle beam?

...or some very nice hills?

Work. Interesting work. Read here for more about the cool stuff these guys are known for. Well, that's likely to be a pretty one-side link. Look here for a more academic discussion and other related articles.

After finishing the things I needed to at work, I decided to explore the beautiful campus for a bit. I think there were no fewer than 4 weddings competing for the most stunning photo backdrops.

More Pics:

The Quad and some frisbee folks (also, W, the other Finns boarder, said she was out on this lawn at the time this picture was taken. Can't see her, though...)

Me

Trying out for photographer of next year's recruitment brochure.

Unfortunately, this great shot (the chapel where Convocation was held on my first night out here) was broken up by a tough-looking duo of electric bikers (their bikes were electric, not them--although I couldn't be so sure after overhearing their detailed conversation about dynamos and gear ratios).

I had to get a picture of those bikes:

That evening, I went with some folks from the ward here to the new Warren Miller ski film. After watching 14 year-olds traveling the globe becoming famous in stunt snowboarding competitions, and guys my age spending months on end making first tracks down their own private Alaskan peaks, I was in need for some reassurance that I didn't waste my youth doing more homework than truly amazing skiing.

Sunday: Church was good. Finally met one of the girls an NYC friend told me I'm supposed to take out, but she hustled off pretty quickly. Not sure what to make of that.

Afterwards, W and I went back to the ranch and watched an episode of Poirot (one of the few occasions the Finns tube gets turned on). Afterwards, she took a nap and I went out and relaxed on a hammock in the shade of the eucalyptus trees.

While drifiting off to sleep. S.O. (another Palo Alto flash from the past--this time from my life as a Writing Fellow in college) called and wanted to introduce me to a great park. While the Finn's have been my official patrons, S.O. has been an excellent social concierge and proposer of activities for me. It's nice to know someone in the know. The park:



Afterwards, I had dinner with my cousin M.M. and her friends at her cottage of a house (complete with a door that is split in two horizontally, allowing one to open the top half, lean out and shout to your neighbor, and then leave a pie to cool on the lower half--only to be stolen later by one of the local gangs of mischievous youngsters). It was GREAT food and company.

Monday, ... back to work.

Independent Mobility

... is something that can easily be taken for granted when you have a car or live in a city where you complain if there is more than 3 blocks between various modes of public transportation. It follows that I was in kind of a shock when I realized that the Finn's home, as homey and idyllic as it is, is not within 45 minutes walking distance of anything except other idyllic pieces of expansive (and likely expensive) property. Don't get me wrong. The Finns are great company and willing to anything for a guest, but as a 28 year-old hailing most recently from New York, I didn't feel like I needed to be bothering them every day about getting to work or going to the drug store to get a new razor.

I found the following practical solution at the campus bike shop for rent:
It's been a while since I've used a bike in a non-recreational way, and it's been fun to relive memories from my college days when I was racing to class on my iron pony in less than 3 minutes, catching my pant leg in the front gear at least 3 times en route. My shadow of helmeted biker with backpack that accompanies me on my journey to and from work also reminds me of the shadow I saw for 2 years while serving my mission. I don't feel much older now, strange enough, but that was a long time ago. Good, good, calm memories of long bike rides on the Lord's errand.

Here are some pictures from my commute:

The Finns and the Ranch

During my second week out here, we were sitting down for dinner one night and it suddenly felt as if a huge windstorm blew in--there was some shaking and a roar like a rushing wind. Mrs. F just sat there with this pleased smile on her face and twinkle in her eye and said, "Oh. We just had and earthquake", with the assurance that no danger could penetrate her haven of a home.

The next day, I decided to look up where The Ranch was in location to the San Andreas fault. I was surprised to find that while little in the way of man-made interests were within walking distance of The Ranch, the fault certainly was (from this great website):

Strange coincidences in the Finn household: her handwriting looks just like my Mom's, they have a set of plates just like ours at home, and it feels like I'm in G&G C's house--lots of books, knick nacks, and home-snapped photos on the walls.

JFK to San Jose

[text to come]
[the folks of the area]
[dinner and "seminar"]
[convocation]