Yesterday, I

attended one interview. It apparently went well, as the fellowship director casually (but informally) remarked, “I still need to talk with the other people who interviewed you, but I would welcome you to this program.” He actually looks like a significant character from The Simpsons, though I shan’t elaborate further.

One person asked me about lindy hopping and all three interviewers asked me about a Mickey Mouse webpage (the actual character; that’s not a condescending adjective) I maintained in the past. (It was rated #2 on Google, right behind Disney.com. When the hosting company I was using merged with another hosting company, all of the content was lost. That was over five years ago. But it apparently stimulates curiosity and makes for interesting conversation.)

noticed that East Coast doctors don’t necessarily dress better than West Coast doctors. That’s the rumor, anyway—East Coast is formal, West Coast is not; East Coast insists on suit jackets and ties for men, West Coast tolerates blue jeans.

Well.

There were (medicine) residents walking around this hospital in corduroys and sneakers—and not formal-looking corduroys and trendy sneakers. So all this stuff about the East Coast doctors looking pretty at work—well, not really.

observed that all the psychiatrists wear long, white coats. I suppose that this, too, is an East Coast phenomenon. (And, in my black suit, I clearly looked like a pawn on the wrong side of the chessboard.)

was surprised with the opulence of the administration wing of the hospital. Chandeliers, polished brass, dark wood, high door frame—and that’s the entrance of the wing, not the actual wing itself! Having spent time in hospitals in three major West Coast institutions, I must say that I’ve never seen administration so overtly decorated. Usually it’s just tucked away into a non-descript, concrete building.

Otherwise, all hospitals look the same. They all begin with an organized, grid-like plan, but eventually become discombobulated structures as additional wings are added, current wings are redesigned, and neighboring buildings are connected.

tolerated the thick humidity in the subway tunnels. It’s like attending a dance… but not actually dancing. Or moving. And still feeling the condensation pool on the skin.

purchased chocolate chip cookies from the outdoor market in Union Square. From O.D.B. Bakery in Chatham, New York. Made with wheat flour. It’s a good cookie.

enjoyed the sun. Not only was the sun out (unlike in Seattle), but it set later (as Seattle is at a higher latitude). I did not anticipate noticing this difference—only when I was sitting in a park (waiting for my interview) and watching the shadows of the tree limbs sway in the sunlight did I realize the extent of the grey cloud cover in the Pacific Northwest. It’s significant.

wondered if people in New York tend to be people who are interested in people. While strolling through the Union Square market, I saw a small crowd of people hovering around someone who was speaking loudly. (This small mob irritated another small mob of people who were annoyed with their deceleration as a result of this bottleneck.) I peered over the crowd and noticed an aging, balding man squatting on a crate while he slowly peeled a carrot.

“This is no ordinary peeler,” he said with panache. “This is the best peeler you will ever see.”

While walking away, I smiled. There was no question that it was an ordinary peeler. Everyone knew this. And yet these people still persisted in watching him peel a carrot. Maybe they were simply gullible. Or bored. Or maybe I am projecting my own interest in people onto other people. It’s a psychodynamic defense, you know.

had dinner with my cousin. He originally wanted to take me to a Japanese barbeque place (Gyu-Kaku), and though we had (last minute) reservations for 9:30pm, we were told at 9:00pm that the people who had reservations at 8:15pm had yet to be seated. And thus we jumped into a cab to Koreatown and wandered into Shilla. The food was delicious.

I last saw my cousin (a financial analyst) about two years ago and I remain impressed with his manners. He has also commissioned me to introduce him to female doctors for potential dates if/when I end up in New York. He’s a good kid. I guess I shouldn’t refer to him as a kid, since he’s in his mid-20s and is already making a whole lot of money. He could feasibly pay off all of my student loans with his year-end bonus. It’s a bit ridiculous.