Raindrops keep fallin'...

I walked out of work today into a thunderstorm in progress. I smiled and my eyes lit up, like those of a small child really excited about a new toy. Rather than standing under the shelter, I took a few tentative steps out into the rain and breathed in deeply. Immediately, memories of summer camp and being out in nature flooded my mind. I looked around at the other people waiting for the bus (who were various degrees of soaked) and was surprised to discover that no one looked unhappy about being wet. Instead, people seemed to be enjoying some relief from the oppressive heat of the past few days. The bus arrived, and the wet passengers climbed on.. everyone giggling and grinning sheepishly to each other as they acknowledged that yes, they knew their clothing was drenched, and no, they did not care. As the rain intensified people quickly reached to shut the bus windows and pull the roof hatch closed, involving some team work. Rather than impatiently waiting for the bus to arrive at its destination, I found myself mesmerized by the sounds of thunder and pounding rain on the bus roof. In the middle of a busy city during rush hour, I managed to find a few moments of relaxation. While being stuck in the city for the summer certainly isn't ideal, at least I can still enjoy the storms.

Troubled Sole

Last week I saw a single shoe lying by the side of the highway. Today, I saw a different shoe sitting all lonesome in the playground. There is something about lost single shoes that invites questioning.. there must be a story behind each one. How did shoe wearer person manage to lose just ONE shoe? Didn't their foot feel cold, or wet, or at the least different from the shoed foot?
I find it troubling, to say the least.

That's One Interpretation...

In high school, I was very involved in my synagogue's youth group. The year I was graduating, the dress code changed, and a new rule was proclaimed that all skirts worn must be "fingertip length". We pondered what this could mean, and soon found out the skirt length had to equal or surpass the point at which one's fingers hit the legs, when the hands are placed at one's sides. As you may imagine, depending on one's arm length, this could end up being either quite short or rather long! Nonetheless, it was quite amusing to watch both the guys and the girls measuring how long "their" skirts needed to be.

Fast forward 5 years. The trend of (very) short pleated skirts for girls is all the rage, though I doubt I'll ever be seen sporting the look. I'm walking through the subway station last week on a rather hot day and see a girl pass by wearing said short pleated skirt. And suddenly a new interpretation of "fingertip length" skirt occurs to me... The length of your skirt must measure no longer than the distance from your wrist to the tip of your finger. And I giggled to myself and kept walking.

Strange Phenomena

I've recently taken note of a strange phenomena. Over the past year when people have asked me about my plans in life, and I told them I had applied to medical school, many people have had this sudden urge to share their most terrible and disturbing doctor stories with me. I've heard about mis-diagnoses ("they told me, go home, you're fine... and 2 days later I found myself in the ER needing surgery!"), rude doctors ("This won't hurt... I lied"), test results not shared ("..and for some reason they didn't feel a need to tell me I had had a stroke!"), and a whole slew of other tales of "bad medicine". After sharing these stories with me, the individual will look at me and say, "if you become a doctor, don't be like that". "Okay", I say, seems fair enough.

What I've started to become curious about, is whether or not this is a phenomena shared with other professions. When someone tells you they want to become a teacher, do you suddenly share your horror stories of your psychotic high school English teacher? If they tell you they want to be a lawyer do you tell them about the lawyer that you once had to deal with who was a real jerk? Or when people share their career goals with you, do you just smile and say "well, good luck with that. I'm sure you'll be great."

I could certainly use some encouragement :0)

Some People!

Tonight I made the mistake of being in a grocery store on a Thursday evening in my neighbourhood. Now, while it only took me 10 minutes to search the store for my various items, it took double that to check out. The express lane had a ridiculous line-up, as did all of the "regular" checkout lanes. I opted for my usual choice, the self-serve checkout. There's something that makes me feel like I'm on a game show as I quickly scan each item, toss in into my bag and push buttoms on the screen. I joined what appeared to be the shortest self-serve line, judging both by how many people were in the line, and how many items were in each cart. I neglected one important detail: competency. Having practically grown up on a computer, I view the self-serve aisle as a convenience. Some adults appear to view it as a challenge to overcome. I painfully watched as one woman, with an overflowing shopping cart, got very frazzled and confused as she attempted to scan each item. (Really, the only trick is items that have a code on them, like fruits and vegetables.. but even that is pretty straightforward). With much assistance from the clerk, she finished her purchase and carried along her way, looking quite proud. In the meanwhile, a lady waiting in the lineup next to mine was getting quite agitated that due to the long waitg. After all, all she had was a bag of potatoes (which she repeatedly stated to deaf ears). The lady angrily asked the clerk if there was any way the process could be sped up. "Why don't you help them?" she asked. Well, in fact the clerk had been helping. The lady then rudely and loudly said "well, then YOU should do it for them". Right. So much for SELF serve. The lady eventually got so agitated, she threw down the potatoes on the floor and stormed out of the store. Seriously, some people. At least I had free entertainment while I waited in line.