And did I mention 2 bathrooms for 10 girls? It could have been so much worse. As it was there was remarkably little conflict over use of the facilities. The setup definitely was reminiscent of summer camp. When I met the two externs that were staying with friends in town I was at first envious. Peace and quiet, a real bed, space in the fridge. A small sacrifice, I learned, for the chance to visit seedy bars en masse, stay up until the wee hours of the morning playing Truth or Dare, and commiserate about the world’s least friendly intern. By the time I departed I knew I would be a little lost back home in the quiet of my farm. No one else will ever understand what’s so funny about 1-Stroke (2 minutes?) or where to put the trash (right next to the squeegee) or how to hose the floor (let me show you a little trick. . . )

So many great memories from a trip I almost didn’t take.

The side trip to Churchill Downs – where I learned that Sam’s maternal grandsire (Spend A Buck) was the 1985 Kentucky Derby winner, that playing the ponies is pretty dang complicated, and that you should never ever try to save money on parking by following a cross-eyed Kentuckian down a narrow road to her driveway.

Discovering hidden treasure at the tack and leather shop tucked into the Thoroughbred Center – custom belts and bracelets at an insanely great price. Buying the exact same belt as Melinda (other than the name plate) after ordering the exact same thing for dinner (other than the beer) the night before at DeSha’s. Buying the bracelet I’ve always wanted but could never find (brown leather, wide but not overwhelming to my short little arm) with my boys’ names on the plate. Registered names, thanks to Carl’s advice. 

Several trips to the Kentucky Horse Park, first to check out the mini show (quite the spectacle if you’ve never seen one), then the cross-country, then on my last day the Park proper. Dusty the trick horse. Posing with the girls on the giant chair. Museums and shows.

Sara, a fellow bookworm, introduced me to Joseph-Beth’s. It defies description – the word bookstore doesn’t even come close. I found prints of my friend Jorge’s photographs. He is truly talented. Sara and I shared the discovery of the adjoining art gallery, Artique, filled with amazing expressions of creativity. Movie, schmovie. We’ll be in here for a while.

I in turn introduced Crystal to I Ching and Joe Bologna’s, two of Lexington’s best places to fill the tummy. The two of us then introduced Kirsten to Victoria’s Secret and the whole concept of sexy underwear. Kirsten’s face vascillated between intrigued and appalled. By the end of the shopping spree, Crystal and I had been reduced to tears and giggles and were perilously close to being banned from Vickie’s forevermore. Fortunately the sales staff had a sense of humor and an appreciation for a substantial purchase.  

I expected to make friends with my housemates, at least to some extent. The other friendship I found came completely out of left field. And by left field I mean Barn 2. Cameron made me smile the first time I saw him and continued the tradition for the entire two weeks. He introduced me to the saddlebred world, Redmon’s, Napoleon Dynamite, and his circle of friends. He reminded me that I am in fact Hot Stuff. He also reminded me that I think too much and sometimes I need to just let go and be. His appearance in my life was nothing short of serendipitous. I hope that I gave to him at least a little of what he gave to me – a light shined into a dark place in my soul, when I needed it most. I sincerely hope our paths cross again. 

Knowledge is indeed invaluable, but friendships are beyond priceless. I gained both in the span of two incredible weeks. What I should have written in the book at the end of the visit is this:

Amy, Melinda, Sara, Heidi, Veronica, Kirsten, Australia, and especially Crystal and Cameron – you guys made the good parts of this trip exceptional and the bad parts hilarious (at least in retrospect)! Someone very wise once said “We do not remember days, we remember moments” Thank you all for two weeks of great moments. Take the best possible care of yourselves.

Until we meet again.

I’m finally back home after almost a month of being everywhere else. After spending the aforementioned week in Ocala, I packed it up and headed north for a week in Lexington, KY. After a less-than-stellar trip in October to one major clinic up there I had negligible hopes for the other rock star clinic in the neighborhood. I had come to the conclusion that the gigantic super-clinics were just not for me. However, I have two reliable sources at school that did internships there and loved it. One is my mentor, so I thought I’d at least check it out so that I could tell him I did, and it just wasn’t for me.

So on a Sunday afternoon I got a VERY late start after participating in Operation Catnip that morning. Catnip is a program to trap, spay/neuter, and return feral cats to try to make a dent in the feral cat population. I spayed 5 cats with only one minor problem, and learned a new phrase courtesy of Carl, the surgery resident helping us. When I asked “how much?” in response to his instruction to extend my incision so I could find the ovary I’d dropped, he grinned and said “Go big or go home!!” Thanks, Carl. That’s a keeper! Carl also refused to glove up and made me solve my own problem (cheeky bugger!) hence I came out of this particular Catnip exponentially more confident, having actually encountered a problem and fixed it myself with tech support. Thanks again, Carl. That’s invaluable!

It was 3 am by the time I reached Rood and Riddle, and of course everyone was long ago tucked in for the night. I slept on the couch that first night, and awoke to the sounds of two of the girls making breakfast. Gradually everyone else trickled in and I found myself the 11th houseguest that week. Ten girls plus Casey who shocked everyone by showing up and being male. Before you pity him for being surrounded by all that estrogen, I should mention that by virtue of his Y chromosome, Casey scored his very own room. With a real bed. I had the option of being the 4th roommate in any one of the 3 rooms inhabited by fellow females stacked into bunk beds. Casey also ditched us early, ostensibly because he missed his girlfriend. I personally think Dr. Hopper’s caustic sense of humor was more than the candy-ass could handle.

He was replaced before he even left by Mark, a visiting vet from Australia. Mark had wild hair, a cute Aussie accent, and a self-professed inability to remember people’s names. Places he could remember, for reasons unbeknownst to anyone including himself. So I became Florida, he became Australia, and likewise everyone else started answering to their state as well as their name. Except Melinda. She was always Boston, rather than Massachusetts, and we’re not entirely sure why. On his first night there, Boston, Australia and I went out to the Bluegrass Fair. Not much of a fair, really. No agriculture section to speak of. They did have a sinful funnel cake which, thank God, we split 3 ways. They also had a few rides that Melinda Boston wanted to try. After the funnel cake. A logistical mistake, we decided later, but the queasy stomach at least went away. Not so Australia’s broken rib, obtained due to his insistence that we all three share a cart on the Scrambler. Boston and I exchanged a skeptical look and then said okay, but you get the outside. Righto, he said. He then learned that 2 girls (even small ones) x 5G’s = broken rib for obstinate Aussie. Five days later we dropped him off at the airport. Wincing, he slung his bag over his shoulder and grinned. It was worth it, he said, to ride with two beautiful American girls. 

Safe travels, Australia. We missed you first.

It was back to the grind this morning as I got up early and headed down to Ocala for the first day of my externship at Equine Medical Center of Ocala (EMCO). I was a little worried about how I would function after having two whole weeks off, and if I really wanted to go back to it. I was thoroughly enjoying myself and my newfound adventurous spirit. I even briefly wondered whether I wouldn’t rather do small animal and make lots of money (well, more money anyway. . . ) and use it to go on more vacations and do things.

I realized after seeing my first horse with the vet this morning that no, I still would rather be a horse doctor than anything else. Crazy schedule notwithstanding. But I have learned during this vacation how to work in activity and adventure to my life more consistently. And I am confident that now that I know how good it makes me feel I will deliberately seek it out wherever I am, when circumstances allow. Even the crazy overachieving residency-bound types do indeed have some down time. Before, I was even more of a geek and with even fewer perceived options of what to do with myself – so I spent a lot of that time in the clinic. That’s great to an extent, but what I want now is to make the most out of life, every minute of it.

In a way I am relieved to know this. I was a little worried about that wayward small-animal thought. I have since school began defined myself by where I am (hopefully) headed. Hi, I’m Megan, Equine Surgeon Hopeful. I now realize the value in being where I AM. Now. My goal no longer defines me. It is just another aspect of me. Hi, I’m Megan, 4th year vet student who rides horses, surfs, rollerblades, kayaks, and reads JUST FOR FUN!!! And I would one day like to be a surgeon because I THINK IT’S FUN!! And I will still do all of the above, for the same reasons.

After all, life is good.

I have a poster entitled How to be an Artist by SARK, who writes many amazing things in bright bold colors like crayons or magic markers. This how-to poster includes such tips as “entertain your inner child” and “swing as high as you can on a swingset, by moonlight”. Others that make me smile every time I read them are “imagine yourself magic” and “invite someone dangerous to tea”. But possibly the best advice she offers is simple. “Read every day”.

This is a given during school. But the books I’m reading then aren’t necessarily ones I want to or particularly enjoy reading. Necessary, sure. Important, absolutely. But fun? Weeeeeeeeeell. . . sometimes. . . okay, rarely. The knowledge they bring is often exciting, but the act of reading them is most often just plain tedious.

I have been traveling some this summer. To my mom’s, to Maryland, next to Ocala, Kentucky, and Tampa. But maybe the best of my travels have been mental, with my person planted on the couch and my brain transported to wherever my latest “fun” book is set.

I encountered a life-altering book disguised as summer fluff in Riding Shotgun, a thriller/drama/almost unclassifiable book meant as light reading. I found in the heroine a girl like me, unapologetically herself and unwilling to act otherwise in order to get the guy. She too suffered long dating dry spells, but ultimately meets her soulmate thanks to some time-travel and soul-searching. Hopefully I will too, although I lack the benefit of a clever writer scripting my life to a happily-ever-after finish.

I’ve also read some just plain fun in the form of The Big Love in which a girl’s longtime live-in boyfriend goes out for mustard and never comes back. Well, actually he does come back and she is first relieved and then realizes that she is settling for the comfortable with him when what she really wants is the Big Love. The Craggy Hole in My Heart and the Cat Who Fixed It was also a neat story, especially for an animal lover such as myself. The author begins determined never to love something that might die before her, and then caves to her friend’s insistence that she NEEDS a kitten.

After spending the last few rainy days browsing Barnes & Noble and Borders, I have flipped through many possible new next books. I finally used my 30% off coupon at Borders on The Notebook. I have heard from many sources that it’s a great read, and the time finally seemed right.

Next week it’s off to Ocala, and who knows when I’ll again have the pleasure of reading for fun? So sedentary though it may be, reading is definitely on my list of things to do!

Last night I headed downtown to check out the Gainesville Artwalk (aka GAWK). Apparently it’s a regular event held on the last Friday of each month, although I have somehow remained unaware of its existence until now. There are several “art spaces” downtown, so designated because they are not all art galleries. In fact the Hippodrome State Theater, a bookstore, a bead shop, and an office bulding are all included on the route. Doors are open to all, and food is provided at many of the stops – wish I’d known that before I stopped at the Dairy Queen on the way over!

I started off at the Hippodrome, affectionately referred to as the Hipp. There I ran into my friends Kevin and Evan (cute, huh? They rhyme. They’re also roommates). Their third roommate, Beth, is my classmate and Kevin’s loooongterm girlfriend. Beth is a small-animal girl and so I haven’t talked to her in ages. Kevin informs me that she too is touring the country at various externships and he’s only seen her for about three days this summer. This makes me feel better for not having called her in forever.

Kevin also hands me a map for the Artwalk and informs me that tonight’s movie is really good. He asks me if I want tickets, which he can comp me since he works at the Hipp. Grinning, I say sure, just need one though! The movie starts in 45 minutes, which gives me just enough time to explore some of the nearby art spaces before it begins.

The first one I walk into is amazing. John Moran is a photographer who focuses on Florida’s wildlife and wild places. He has both traditionally beautiful prints and those that are more jolting, startling, awe-inspiring. Like In the Beginning – a just-hatching baby alligator (literally – the head is peeking out but the rest of him is still in the egg) against the background of a Florida sunrise. Alligators at Dusk gave me chills. Some of my other favorites are The Sacred River, American Lotus, and I think my very favorite would have to be Bare Oak/Mackerel Sky which looks like something out of a Tim Burton movie. 

My next noteworthy stop was at the Sun Center Bead Emporium. There I found everything from jewelry by a featured artist to bin after bin of beads to design your own. I liked the stone, clay, and wooden beads best. Not so much the glass or crystal type. The chunky kind with substance and some surface irregularities that make them interesting. Perhaps the most interesting thing I saw was a sign that said PLEASE do not steal. If you do not have money, talk to me about fair trade. I thought that was super-cool, although I had money. Just the openness to the idea intrigued me.

As I was thinking I should move along so as to not miss the movie, I discovered a bowl of what appeared to be wooden earrings, fat little hoops with a sliver of a post. The shop’s proprietor informed me that they were in fact coconut, and that she had also had some made of bone from Thailand but was now sold out. We got to talking and she admired both my bracelet and my necklace – both Christmas presents. The bracelet from my sister this past Christmas, purchased on her African adventure. The necklace was from Jen several Christmases ago, other than that its origin is unknown to me. Cindy, the bead lady, says that it too looks African. We talk for a while, and as I decide to buy two little coconut earrings (for $1 each!) it occurs to me that she may not take plastic. She does not. I tell her I have only one dollar bill to my name, and I will have to put one fat little hoop back. She tells me not to be silly, that I will just owe her a dollar the next time I come in. I do it for people all the time she says. Her business seems to do well so I guess mostly they show up and pay her back. Cindy is an amazing lady and I’m glad to have met her. Plus, not only is her shop full of beautiful things but now I also owe her a dollar, so I will certainly be back!

In talking to her, I missed the first few minutes of the movie, WATER. It was really good, as are most of the Hipp’s offerings. I will probably comment more later; I am still processing it. It was a strange combination of sad and hopeful, and the happy ending I was hoping for was replaced with a tragic one.  It has definitely given me something to think about. . .