June 7th

So yesterday was my "last day of semester".  Well, not really. Its my last day before I go on my "working holiday" to Sydney next week. (I will have my proper holiday, after my working holiday.)

I was schedule for my hospital rotation yesterday. We all reported in on time, but the receptionist was clueless why we were there (as always). We've been going to the hospital for over a few months now, but they're still not sure which doctor we will be training under for that day.

The receptionist knows nothing, the nurses run around trying to sort things out, and eventually a senior doctor had to come in and help sort out the administrative mystery. (I would have thought it was a simple task of "oh yes, Dr. A is expecting you in room 21")

But anyway, it was all worth the wait, because after about an hour, I was introduced to a very camp ophthalmologist. Blonde hair, blue eyes, tight aqua blue polo. He said hi with a tone that made my gaydar ring alarm bells- it might have been a false alarm, but we will never know.

He quickly changed into scrubs, and we started seeing patients. His cross-leg really just confirmed it so much more.

Here comes the confusing part. During break, which he calls "Mrs. Brown" (isn't that gay?), the nurses were asking him about his girlfriend. He then chats about how he's broken up with "the girlfriend from Christchurch" and has a new one now.

I was of course a little disappointed, because really, he should be my boyfriend. 

So I'm left wondering if he's using girlfriend as a synonym for boyfriend. These two words have the same core meaning- i.e. partner; which of course can be mixed around to keep ones private life discrete (this is especially important in a hospital situation, where nurses live on gossip).

So Dr. A, if you're reading this, I hope you drop a line and clarify this confusion. 

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Yesterday night, GB and I went to watch Sex and the City. 

The whole cinema was filled with giggling girls and very few couples.

This movie was OK. I can't say I found it absolutely entertaining. I felt this movie was really meant for girls only. The shoes, the wedding, the dresses, the straight men. It just didn't click for me.

However I did have a favourite scene, and that is when Samantha walks out of the fashion show from Bryant Park and got spilled by an animal activist with red paint chanting "fur!, animal killer" (or something along those lines).

I was expecting Samantha to say "Fuck", but instead she smiled and said "This is why I love New York".