All At Sea

The morning started off with breakfast (delivered by room service, of course, because it’s free, so to speak). There was a Port and Shopping presentation scheduled for 10:30, and I went, assuming that there would be discussions of how to navigate the port towns and find quality, local wares. There wasn’t. I felt like I was in a taping of some QVC or Home Shopping Network program. The people around me were whooping and hollering over diamonds, jewelry, and handbags, and whenever the host said, “If you see it, and you like it, BUY IT!!!” the crowd shouted the last part in unison…well, most of the crowd. I was too busy lying on my bench, trying to fend of the sickness and headache caused by either the motion of the boat or what I deemed to be crass consumerism. Don’t get me wrong…I’m a consumer. I consume every day. I love me some Crate and Barrel, and don’t you dare go to an old bookstore or architectural salvage shop without me. I don’t know…it just feels different.

Did I mention that there is an art auction onboard the ship today? They are selling works by Rembrandt, Goya, Renoir, Picasso, Miró, Dürer, Chagall, Lichtenstein, and more. Wait a minute, people can still buy this stuff? It’s still for sale to the general public? The rabid, crazed desire to have it as my own, a desire which filled the hearts of many at the Port and Shopping presentation not an hour earlier, now begins to intermingle with my love of art museums. The thought of having just a slice of these masterpieces in my own home nearly sends me over the edge.

Lunch at the Orion Restaurant found me dining with a group of new folks and setting out on a bit of an internal existential thought process. I feel so out of place on this ship. The stateroom attendant comes in and turns down my pillow at night, leaving a chocolate where my head will soon rest. Room service is free. I dine with cloth napkins and an arc of polished cutlery is neatly arranged around my many plates. Everyone else seems to be above me in social class. It’s like I’m afraid they’re going to find me out, to discover that although I was able to pay for my trip, my current income level puts me just above the poverty line prior to taking into account student loans. But I wasn’t being lavish or foolhardy with my income; I just needed to get away. Away from the oppressive Chicago winter, to somewhere warm. Away from the thought that in a few short weeks, I’ll be finding out the seemingly life-or-death results of an exhaustive process of internship applications. Away from the feeling that because most of my clients’ lives are so entangled in community violence, poverty, and racism or xenophobia, I can’t possibly make a difference. Away.

My thoughts carry me out onto one of the ship’s many decks. There is no land in sight. None. The deep blue water crests in tiny, white-tipped waves on all sides as a deeply penetrating sun bares down on skin that hasn’t been kissed by the sun’s warmth in months. I decide to forgo the quest for skin cancer and retire to my pitch black stateroom for a please-go-away-Mr.-Motion-Induced-Headache-and-Mrs.-I’m-Going-To-Tip-Overboard-with-All-This-Rocking nap, followed by a hey-there’s-a-sushi-and-sashimi-bar-from-5:30-to-8:30 binge. It’s all about excess on a cruise ship. Or so they say.

The Sky Deck

Water, Water, Everywhere, and Not a Drop to Drink

The formal dinner seating arrangement for the duration of the cruise began tonight. My tablemates are composed of a quiet, red-faced German man, two German women, and a husband and wife from Ohio. The German fellow didn’t seem too keen on talking, and when I tried to strike up a conversation with the youngest of the two German women, she got that “deer in the headlights” look that I get when someone says something in Spanish that I don’t understand but am expected to answer. By process of elimination, I ended up conversing loudly across the table (due to the music overhead) to the couple from Ohio. Come to find out, they have done a lot of work with the Red Cross and other relief organizations in the Gulf Coast area. They seem nice.

Foods of the Day: Apple Tart with Butternut Ice Cream and Calvados Sauce & Chilled Melon and Mint Soup

Come, Sail Away

I elected to board the ship early today in order to get settled and explore. Prior to departing for the pier, I felt a jolt of that kid-on-Christmas-morning feeling. I haven’t felt that since, well, I was a kid. A bit of uncertainty, a sprinkle of magic, and a generous dollop of excitement (with a pinch of “Me! Me! Me!” thrown in for good measure).

This is my first cruise. Have you ever been on one? If not, I suggest you do so immediately. My inner cabin, though somewhat small, was just right for what I needed. I unpacked my clothes and such, putting them in their respective drawers. I never unpack when I stay in a hotel. But I figured that since I was going to be here for nearly two weeks, it made sense. Plus this is a hotel on water, so that’s totally different from one on land. Right?

My Stateroom

There is an uber-creepy, oversized photo of a plump woman dressed in French Revolution-type clothes, complete with an overly-powdered white face, big wig, and garish red lipstick, the majority of which has found its way onto her teeth, hung outside my stateroom. No wonder the peasants revolted. The placard beside it says “Jane Kaplowitz, Mardi Gras.” I decide to lock the door…just in case Ms. Kaplowitz decides to bring her reveling into my room in the middle of the night.

A mandatory safety drill was scheduled prior to dinner. The captain came on and spoke, followed by translation into French and German. I strapped on my lifejacket, ascended the stairs, and reported to my muster station. It sounds a bit melodramatic, but I couldn’t help think, “Titanic.”

Safety Drill Through the Peephole

Dinner was open seating for the night of embarkation. The folks I ate with had just gotten married in Martha’s Vineyard and were on their honeymoon. They seemed incredibly happy and had that post-nuptial glow. They told me that I couldn’t have picked a better ship and itinerary to start out with. Apparently, some cruise lines are really terrible when it comes to food, décor, and service. Other than the omnipresent “Jane Kaplowitz, Mardi Gras,” the ship is very beautiful, classy, and well-designed. My stateroom attendant is quite helpful, and the food…oh, the food. I can’t possibly write about all the constantly-changing, diverse gustatory options available on ship, but suffice it to say that the Orion Restaurant doesn’t disappoint. For dinner, I had goat cheese quiche, a deliciously seasoned fish with quinoa, and profiteroles with hazelnut ice cream.

Toward the end of dinner, the ship’s engines started up, shaking the glasses and cutlery on the table. So commenced the second-to-last journey of the Celebrity Galaxy (the ship is being sold to a cruise line in Greece) and my maiden nautical voyage.

The Resort Deck

The Galaxy Library

Food of the Day: Goat Cheese Quiche

San Juan, Two, Three (Puerto Rico)

I flew to Puerto Rico three days prior to the cruise in order to ensure I made my cruise departure time (anyone who has flown out of or through Chicago knows that it can be notorious for its delays/cancellations during the winter). Because Da House Hotel (the artsy, life-above-a-local-music-scene-club digs I took up last time) was sold out, I bunked in the Garden Suite above a jewelry store called Bóveda. It was comfortable…a bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, sitting room, and an open-air terrace garden below. There’s really nothing like falling asleep to the sound of wind chimes, lightly falling rain on tiled floor, and a Caribbean breeze softly blowing. “Which internship matching process? Come again? What is Match Day? I’m not familiar.”

Inside the Garden Suite at Bóveda

I had grand plans to visit the Rio Camuy caves while I was on the island. Reportedly among the largest in the world accessible to the public, the caves were closed almost two years ago when a boulder fell on someone; since that time, they have worked to secure the area and now require folks to wear hardhats. It was closed when I was in Puerto Rico last spring, but reportedly, the cave system opened up a couple weeks ago. Looks like I’ll never know...the tour company cancelled the tour because not enough people had booked it. If only they had bothered to tell me that before I got up early and waited outside a hotel down the street for over an hour. Nice.

My trip to the beach was equally disheartening. After the cave incident, I decided to try the method for vacationing used by some of my friends and family: just taking it as it goes, doing whatever, whenever you feel like it. My prior tendency has been to plan things out months in advance to fit everything in. When I finally rolled out into the bus system (oh, the bus system in Puerto Rico…sigh…why do I complain about the Chicago Transit Authority again?), I ended up getting off way too early and walked nearly two hours to Hobby Beach in Isla Verde. The sun was going down, but no spectacular sunset colors emerged. Still, it was warm. Oh so very, very warm, and I got about an hour of beach time in before dark. However, given how much beach time I could have gotten if I’d started my excursion earlier in the day, I think I’ll stick with my regular vacation-going plan: get up, get going, see it, do it, and soak it up.

Hobby Beach in Isla Verde

Despite my somewhat underwhelming experience in San Juan this time around, I did manage to get my fix of mofongo, arroz y habichuelas, and fresh tropical fruit. And did I mention that it’s in the 70s and 80s outside? Ahhhhhh. Why do I live in Chicago again? Below are a few shots I didn’t manage to capture last time:

Internship Interviews...or "How Steven Spent Several Thousand Dollars Flying All Over the Country to Get a Measly One-Year Internship"

At the beginning of the internship interview circuit, I had big dreams of writing in my blog at each stop. Given that my first full week of interviews had me in five different cities in five days’ time, I guess it’s no surprise that I’m lumping the whole experience into one big entry. It’s just as well, though…I don’t know if the presupposed daily entries would have been coherent given that my two all-encompassing tasks during that time were flying in airplanes and playing the role of interviewee.

Overall, I applied to 20 sites and had 16 interview offers. I agreed to go on 11 in-person and complete 2 over the phone. Some interviews went well, others not so much. Some sites wowed me, some were yawners, and one made me want to run screaming from the building ten minutes in. Because everyone’s experience is different, and out of respect for the fact that sites can change from year to year, I won’t specify which of the interviews below fit into these categories. Here’s the rundown:

December 19th Harvard Medical School/Children’s Hospital Boston
January 5th Children’s Hospital Los Angeles
January 6th University of New Mexico Health Sciences Center
January 7th Oregon Health Sciences University
January 8th UCSF/San Francisco General Hospital
January 9th Children’s Hospital Orange County
January 12th Stanford/Children’s Health Council Consortium
January 14th Children’s National Medical Center
January 15th Children’s Memorial Hospital
January 16th Primary Children’s Medical Center
January 16th Spokane Mental Health (via phone)
January 20th The Children’s Hospital
January 24th Morrison Child and Family Services (via phone)

A big thanks to everyone who provided lodging, transportation, advice, food, and overall support throughout this process. I couldn’t have made it through without you. Looking back, I feel as though I grew by leaps and bounds during the process. I feel wiser, more mature, stable, and sure of myself. I never thought that such a grueling, costly, ridiculously-intense-given-the-fact-that-it’s-only-one-year-of-your-life internship application process would be one that I’m ultimately very grateful to have experienced.

My rankings have been submitted to and certified with National Matching Services Inc. I’m keeping mum about my decisions…even my mum doesn’t know which sites I ranked first. From now through the morning of Match Part One (i.e., when you find out if, but not where, you matched), I will be in the Caribbean. I really think it’s better that way, don’t you?

Below you can find some of the photographic highlights from my internship interview journeys. They might be best enjoyed while listening to Fall Out Boy’s “Folie à Deux” album, something I did before and after each and every interview. It helped me center myself and focus on holding them all in context simultaneously.

I took up fancy (yet surprisingly affordable) digs at the Boston Park Plaza Hotel while I was in town. Off to a good start!

My friend Rhea from the PCIT days now lives in Boston, and she recommended Parish Café just down the road. Parish has sandwiches created by all the famous local chefs in Boston. Hey, there she is now. Hey Rhea! Let's go eat...

I had the Regal Regis, created by Susan Regis, Chef @ Upstairs on the Square in Cambridge. It consisted of sliced flank steak and portobello mushrooms in a soy, scallion, and balsamic marinade, served on parmesan crusted French bread with a side of homemade potato salad.

At my request, our next stop was Old South Church near Copley Square...

Sweet, a bakery on Massachusetts Ave, was worth trudging through the snow and sludge. I had a chocolate peppermint cupcake...delicious!

After Rhea and I parted, I had a substandard bowl of clam chowder and a lackluster lobster at Ye Olde Union Oyster House, the oldest restaurant in the United States. While in the North End, I stopped by the iconic Mike's Pastry for (my first!) cannoli, a black-and-white cookie, and a Boston Cream puff to be devoured for breakfast the next morning.

Later that evening, I went to a phenomenal Christmas performance at Faneuil Hall...thanks, again, to Rhea for finding out about it!

While in Los Angeles, one of my former missionary companions and now good friend, Sanie, took me down to Santa Monica Beach.

Santa Monica Pier

When we got to the end of the pier, a young man was performing. The crowd wasn't very large, but he sang with feeling in one of those slightly raspy voices I like so much. I bought his demo CD but, in retrospect, he sounded better live. Maybe it was the magic of being in above-freezing temperatures (yeah, Chicago, I'm talking to you, punk!).

I shall miss Sanie's cat, Dewey. Hi, Dewey!

Los Angeles County Museum of Art (LACMA)

Newport Beach marked an important milestone.

While in San Francisco, I went to the Exploratorium with Kim, Jason, and their son, Sebastian. Kim and I worked together at B. Dalton in high school, majored in psychology at the U of U, and are now both finishing up grad school in clinical psychology. If only the current Steven and Kim could travel back in time to warn Steven and Kim in the year 2003. “Turn back! Turn back! Turn back, 2003 Steven and Kim! Too much trauma awaits!” Alas, this cannot happen unless current Steven and Kim go to the island.

Walking around on the Stanford University campus, I couldn’t help but think of Orange County.

I know it seems strange, but I find the DC Metro to be magnificent-looking.

I don’t remember which building this is, but it sure is neat.

The U.S. Capitol Building prepares for President Obama’s inauguration.

Oh, hey, it’s -40 degrees outside and there are icicles hanging from the train. Welcome back to Chicago, Steven.

No cross-country trip would be complete without an adorable little nephew waiting at the end. Hello, Ammon!