I'm here at the Air Force Base at Vogelweh, near Kaiserslautern, Germany, in a library. I'm trying to do some more studying for the board exam. Once upon a time, in college and at points during med school, I was a studying machine. I could sit for hours, pouring through material and books with a zen-like concentration, filtering material and rewiring neurons to memorize idea after idea until mentally numb. I've found that over the years that ability has left me somewhat. Residency doesn't require extended periods of reading and intense study as much as it requires a different kind of endurance - more physical and emotional than mental. And I'm convinced that i'm just not as sharp or absorptive as I was back in those college days.
But here I am today, like back in the good old days; pounding out some study time in a library. (Oh how I recall the many hours at the UCSD and Tulane libraries...) After this test, I won't have another reason to sit and study for a forced number of prolonged hours for many years. Maybe never. But for now, I'm sitting here trying to rediscover the old skills and cram material into my head for one more uber-test. And then the student life will officially be over.
In other news, Gwen's furniture was delivered to her apartment this past Thursday. So we now have a genuine place to stay. I checked out of the on-base billeting yesterday and basically said good riddance to the place. It wasn't that bad, but I'm glad to be gone.
One of the more vexing aspects of German living is their garbage system. There are no less than five differenct containers for things which must be put out at different times - nearly something every other day on a 2-week pick up schedule. Gwen and I sat pouring over the garbage pamphlet (all in German) with a little translation dictionary to try to figure out what the hell is put where and equally importantly, when. I keep wanting to say that the Germans are "effing Nazis" about their garbage. But...that just wouldn't be the most politically correct move out here, I think.
(I keep having these visions of myself at a party or bar (or somewhere with high-volume ambient noise) and then busting out the "Nazi" line about something and then having the record screech, the music stop, and everyone abruptly stare viciously in my direction while a cricket makes its song. I'll let you know if and when that happens.)
Gwen and I also had fun trying to figure out the instructions on the damn German washing machine - there were like 3 chambers for soap and all these weird words on the thing - apparently Germans typically wash their clothes for like 2 hours or something.
I can't believe how much Phil Collins (and Genesis) I hear on the radio out here. I'm trying to make it through a simple car trip without hearing "In the Air Tonight", "Invisible Toucher", "I can't dance" (seriously), or the Tarzan song at all. It seems that he places in multiple genres out here - I hear him on everything from soft hits to classic rock to pop stations. Ironically, I never hear "Land of Confusion", one of the few songs I actually like by the guy. Must be Murphy's Law.
Back to the books. I'm still working on getting some pics of stuff.
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