Mollie and Eli stopped by en route from Pensacola to Miami via Tallahassee on Friday and took me out to dinner at Don Pablo’s. I got to see about half of their honeymoon pictures from Peru and do a little catching up.

Saturday was a styling workshop followed by a social at Unified. It was a BLAST. I wore my showstopping blue dress and the famous silver stilettos. Amazingly I danced for 4.5 hours before surrendering and putting on my WAY less sexy buy WAY more comfy flats and heading home. I met several new dance partners including Tony and Curt. But my favorite was Javy, who I had seen dance at Pontiac and was told “he’s incredible – you have to be really good to dance with him!” So when he asked me to dance I was understandably nervous. But he was really sweet when I told him I was a beginner and told me “doesn’t matter how good you are. We dance ’cause it’s fun!”

And of course there were disproportionately more dances with Gordon, my PDC (that’s Personal Dance Coach) than anyone else. He had me doing some crazy advanced moves and taught me to dance bachata and double spin. I don’t know if it’s because I’m more familiar with his leads or if he’s just really good at it, but he makes me look good. If you didn’t know better, you might actually think I know what I’m doing when I’m dancing with him.

Yesterday Wendy and I drove down to Orlando and had an only mildy productive shopping trip at the outlets and malls. But we had a really productive dinner at Smokey Bones with Justina, my internmate and future roommate for next year. She seems very laid-back and cool. I think it will work out well. She’s not sure she wants to do a residency or anything (unlike certain other crazy types) and that might be cool because it won’t be two gung-ho super driven types together. One of me is probably plenty!

Mollie and Eli stopped by again tonight for a repeat of our nice but very abbreviated visit on their return trip. We didn’t have time to break out the pictures because they were already running late. And Eli didn’t get to meet Maverick and Sam this trip. Maybe next time they can come see my little farm.

No, really. I didn’t have a choice. What was I supposed to do, keep sticking to the floor? Plus they were reduced to 60% off and it was a deal, as Don Corleone would say, I couldn’t refuse. And it doesn’t hurt that they just might be the hottest pair of shoes I have ever seen.

Now I just have to figure out how to dance in 4 1/2 inch stilettos, including spinning, without killing myself. Actually I have been practicing at home in them and my balance is fine. But the balls of my feet get sore faster than in the shorter heels. Saturday there’s a styling workshop (for all levels, yay!) followed by a salsa social. I am trying to get brave enough to wear the sexy shoes.

At Pontiac last night after class, I danced the first song, a merengue, with Ganesh. I have learned leads better, so it went more smoothly until he tried to get way fancier than I can follow and knocked me in the face with my own arm! I danced a few songs with Kenji, who taught me some “suave” moves as he calls them. He is a fantastic dancer and very sweet with us clueless types.

But mostly I danced with Gordon, who has appointed himself my own personal dance coach. He is full of tips and also encouragement when I do something well. He also told me that if I go to class every week and “dance EVERY practice dance” (he adminoshed me because I wasn’t) and go to Pontiac EVERY Thursday I can be at the top levels in three months. This, and my amazing teacher Carine telling me that I have talent, make me wish I’d started sooner.

Most of my hobbies, as far back as I can remember, I have engaged in with considerably more enthusiasm than ability. Tee-ball, basketball, softball, horseback riding, surfing, rock-climbing, kayaking, pottery, drawing, painting, sculpting. I have loved doing many things over the years but not because I am particularly good at any of them. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I’d say this about any kind of dancing, let alone salsa. But for the first time ever, I feel like I really might have the potential to be GOOD at something. Fun. Not school, which is really the only other thing I’ve ever been good at.

So, see, I HAD to buy those shoes. It’s an investment!

And really, what other kind is there? I am completely falling in love with dancing despite the fact that I often feel goofy, clumsy or confused and occasionally all three. Because other times I feel like a hot mama. I’ve been to a few classes now and learned the basics of two different styles of salsa, casino and L.A. My timing and coordination is improving every time. And – get this – I’m dancing in heels!

For my first class I wore the cute but highly sensible shoes Mom insisted on for the wedding, mostly on account of the stairs I had to go up. I was glad I listened to her when I learned that my escort was to leave me at the bottom of the stairs and I’d have to climb them solo. The shoes are stable, safe, and extremely ill-suited for salsa dancing. They completely lack spin. I stuck to the floor instead.

After my first night I was actually brave enough to go out with a group of people to the Pontiac Tavern, this cute little place downtown that plays Latin music on Thursday nights. Everyone was SO nice. There’s a group of regulars including people from the classes, and everyone dances with everyone. It was the first time I ever danced with a guy and didn’t have to worry about whether he thought it meant I wanted to go home with him! (Besides Brothers, which was great for just that reason – they didn’t want to go home with you anyway!)

After dancing with Danilo, I realized this whole idea was a stroke of genius. Given my penchant for dark-haired boys with big chocolate eyes, I wonder why I didn’t think of it sooner. What a great way to meet just such boys, many with adorable accents, and all of whom dance well. Sheer genius.

Somewhat ironic that the seed was planted while dancing with a blond, blue-eyed Jewish boy. You really just never know.

I have been recently bemoaning the copious amounts of ass-sitting I’d been doing this semester. And I haven’t really felt motivation to “seriously” ride my horses – mostly I’ve just hacked around and gone on trail rides with the girls. Enjoyable certainly but hardly any sort of workout. Then I went to Mollie’s wedding and had a blast salsa dancing with Josh. And I thought hey, what a great way to get some exercise. Especially the next morning when I tried to get out of bed and realized that four hours of dancing in heels does quite a number on your quads when you never wear heels let alone dance in them.

The kickboxing thing, I dunno. Maybe all the Bond movies Dad and I have been watching. And Stacy has gotten big into kickboxing and is very enthusiastic about it. Not to mention that she looks amazing! Again, sounds like fun and good exercise. I guess I just decided that ass-shaking and ass-kicking were infinitely preferable to ass-sitting. And I have some time right now so why not?

Some other things I’m going to do this year:

1) Not take life so seriously. It is a dance, after all. How serious could it be?

2) Spend more time with my precious family and friends before I disappear into the internship abyss. I miss them already.

3) Go to Kentucky to “be fabulous” as Wendy says. Knock the socks off Rood and Riddle.

4) Love my life. I already do, but it never hurts to include it again!

Now that they are almost back from the honeymoon. . . here, finally, are some wedding night photos.

I don’t have any wedding pictures back yet so this will have to do. They’re in Peru on their honeymoon right now, having been married 10 days at this point. I am still not sure how all this makes me feel.

I am supposed to be happy for her, and mostly I am. But along with the relief of having married off my little sister, thereby removing some of the pressure on me to get married and produce grandchildren, came an unexpected sort of emotion, still difficult for me to place. Jealousy? Not exactly. But maybe a little bit of wistful thinking.

Despite the fact that this was her day, I had several guests ask me at the wedding (I’m the older sister after all) when I’m going to get married. What IS that? I kept answering “I don’t know, maybe never”. And although I have always claimed to want nothing to do with marriage I suspect that what I really want is to fall in love with a man capable of convincing me to take that risk. And that what I am really terrified of is that I’ll never find it.

It was definitely a night of great memories. The wedding ceremony was beautiful. Mom made it through most of her reading before the tears started. And I got the train turned around without Mollie tripping over it! Nobody noticed when Sunny and I couldn’t manage to hand it off without getting in each others’ way. All eyes were on the bride, thank God!

The reception was even more fun.

Sam offering me the empty seat next to him “if I wanted”. And then asking me a few minutes later if I was his date. (We decided yes). Uncle Enoch (by marriage!) making bad jokes and worse puns and telling Sam he should stay in the Corps another 10 years. Sam trying valiantly to have an actual conversation with him and explain that he had other goals. Being saved, mercifully, by the introduction of the wedding party of which we were part.

Mollie and Eli feeding the cake to each other – both very sweetly. Their first dance as husband and wife. The rest of the bridal party joining in “with our partners” until Dad intercepted me and Sam and cut in before we even started. Dad pulling me out on the dance floor at the next slow song and gloating “sorry, Marine, the Air Force was quicker again!” Dancing to salsa and booty music with Josh, who if nothing else is one hell of a dancer – enough to get me several compliments on my dancing when I clearly had no idea what I was doing. Dancing to Fergie with Mollie (back to back droppin’ down real low). And FINALLY slow dancing with Sam to all the remaining slow songs.

Mollie dancing with our dad. Eli dancing with his mama. And Big Bob dancing with every female IN the place! Everyone in my family dancing to the Chicken Dance (Sam bailed on me for that one but did get it on film!) The men lifting the married couple in their chairs, high over their heads. Mollie looking simultaneously pleased and petrified.

And finally, saying goodnight to my newly married little sister. Tossing heart-shaped ricelike substance at them. Scott thought it was candy and had eaten most of his. He finally just threw the bag at them. Waving goodbye and blowing kisses and wishing them happy honeymooning in Peru.

And then walking across the street to McGuire’s.

It’s right in the middle of that first paragraph. Between “Congratulations on your acceptance” and the list of interns for the 2007-2008 year.

“You are the best of the best – we’ll make you better”

I keep feeling like it hasn’t quite sunk in yet and receipt of the letter confirmed that. Despite the fact that the offer was made over a week ago while I was still in Kentucky, and despite the fact that I’ve already told everyone I’m in (whether or not they cared. . . ), actually seeing it in print made me all giddy again.

At first I thought hey, anyone who quotes Viper is part of a group I’ll fit right in with. Then I thought crap, the best of the best? I think he might actually MEAN that. What if I’m not and they find me out? Suddenly my confidence that I CAN DO THIS is again replaced by the gnawing fear that I might fall flat on my face.

Luckily this has never stopped me before. I tend to just keep charging right on ahead. And remembering that while I was up there I watched the interns, REALLY watched them, shadowed them, and decided that I ABSOLUTELY CAN do it!

After months of board review on top of 8 hours at school and a class schedule that seemed like a good idea at the time but lately has seemed more masochistic than motivated, the day of reckoning was fast approaching. My buddy Mark and I made a pact at poker night at his place that we would study together the rest of the weekend. I don’t know what I would have done without him. We took turns explaining things to each other and keeping the dreaded 8-hour study sessions far less miserable than they otherwise would have been. We decided that together, we were rock stars, and if we could take the boards in pairs we’d SMOKE the damn thing. And perhaps most importantly, we served as reminders to each other that we were not alone in our suffering!

Unfortunately I couldn’t take Mark with me for the real thing, but several things we talked about were on the exam. And when I finished and nobody else was there to celebrate with me I kept thinking of him saying “I’m gonna be SOOOOOOO jealous of you on Tuesday night!” So I called him to schedule the margarita he promised me in exchange for giving him the scoop on the exam. As promised, he is highly jealous of me but he did buy me a premium margarita from OTB.  And I dished about the test. He has nothing to worry about.

I think I did pretty well. At least, I think I passed. Which is all I need. I certainly hope I did because I have told several people that already, and if I end up failing I will be one SAD SAD SACK in February when I find out that I have to retake it. I may not tell anyone if that’s the case!!!

But for now I am HAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Tomorrow I’m on call for the colic team by myself which to me is defeating the purpose a little bit. My whole desire in all this is to teach underclassmen about receiving emergencies, show them how to do procedures, etc. and then eventually turn them loose. To just go in by myself, well. . . I’ve seen plenty of colics and they don’t actually NEED my help. . . oh, well. Maybe I can get some mowing and studying done while remaining in range of the phone.

On Sunday, Kelly, her daughter Emma, and I are going down to the Tack Shack, a store in Ocala. They are having their monthly “Horsey Yard Sale” where people come bring their accumulated mess to try to sell to others. It’s fun, and I haven’t been out with them in a while. I’ve been missing our sushi dates. Then I was invited to one of the new residents’ house-warming parties. Hopefully it will be a good time.

So never fear. My sunshiny disposition has returned. All is well. Now I’m going to go see about the ArtWalk tonight. I still owe the bead lady a dollar!