Episode Twenty: Single in the City does Bay-to-Breakers

What does a responsible pharmacy student do after coming home from a debauchery-filled vacay in Miami? Why attend Bay-to-Breakers the next day, of course! First day of acute care rotations be damned!

My friend Kat, his boyfriend Mark and a few of their co-workers and friends had decided weeks ago that we were all going to "participate" in Bay-to-Breakers. We ended up deciding that "Jersey Shore" would make a timely and appropriate theme for us to coordinate to. Kat and I decided that we were going to be "Snooki". As a preface, I have never watched a single episode of "Jersey Shore" nor do I intend to. But for the spirit of doing justice to Snooki, I researched a few photos/video clips of hers, and apparently, she's really into having her hair styled in what could only be described as a hideous camel-hump-like contraption, apparently called "the bump".

I got in late from Miami the night before, and so I didn't really have that much time to get supplies to make the "bump". I thought I had left over mousse/hairspray/gel from when I used to have shorter hair; it may be hard to believe, but once upon a time, I did have shorter hair (and if you look at my driver's license photo, it's WAY shorter). Lacking the supplies, and the necessary things to tease my hair (flat iron and blow dryer; I forgot that I've always borrowed them from people), I decided that we were going to forgo the bump, and instead, to just wear something skimpy. That's still in line with Snooki's essence.

It was a bit nipply outside (a cool and crisp mid-50s was the high), especially when you are meagerly dressed, but when you're surrounded by throngs and throngs of people, it doesn't seem to be so bad. The EtOH doesn't hurt either.

Seeing that I lived a half a block near the parade turn on Divisadero and Hayes, I decided that I was going to join our crew at this juncture. I wasn't about to wake up at the crack of dawn to make it in time to Embacardero by 7:15am. Also, the Hayes Hill can be quite unforgiving (at its steepest, it's about an 11% grade), though I have been always amazed as to how the gigantic floats (which are pulled uphill manually by equally inebriated fellows) make it up the hill without rolling back and smashing the sloshed people behind it.

You had your staple costumes: the pirates, the lifeguards, the cross-dressers and the naked men, though I would have to say, I only saw five of them (which is a bit lower compared to previous years in my experience). There were a couple of standouts for me. I really liked the bikers in their Elvis-like get up, though I would have to say that my favorite costume/theme was the shuttercock/badminton group; it's so random and well put together.

In my years of doing Bay-to-Breakers, I had never gone past JFK and Conservatory West Drive in Golden Gate Park, and as I had found out, there was a good reason why; the floats exit the parade here. When you're walking that far, aside from the EtOH, the thing that keeps me going is the music coming from these floats. It's like a giant moving-street-block-party, with the locals (and the voyagers) dancing along to the same beat, if only temporarily. However, this year, my friends' after party was at their brand new pad near Ocean Beach, on 42^nd Avenue, so we trekked through the park and made it almost to the finish line, and I'd have to say that the crowd was a little bit more subdued; perhaps it was due to the alcohol wearing off or if the fatigue was setting in. However, I'd say the clam dip made it worthwhile.

Here's to hoping that next year's Bay-to-Breakers would be a bit on the warmer side and as salacious as ever. Fist Bump!

Episode Nineteen – Bienvenidos a Miami

It's been a trip that I've been looking forward to for weeks, the light at the end of (actually it's more an 1/8^th) the rotations tunnel. I've never been to Miami, much less Florida, and I was beyond stoked when we finally settled on Miami as our break destination. I have a friend who lives in West Palm Beach, but she was going to be in Tampa the same week, so I wasn't going to be able to meet up with her.

The Company

Aside from me, Krystal and Nikolai (also known as Krystolai), Sara Nik, Amy and Walter, Jeremiah, Francis (Jeremiah's friend), Trevor, Devon (Trevor's friend), and Kirtan (Devon's friend from NY) made up our liver-wrecking crew as we hit Miami Beach by storm! We haven't seen each other, at least all of us, since we went our separate ways for rotations.

The Accommodation

We wanted to have a reasonably affordable hotel and at the same time, be as close to the "South Beach" scene as possible, and so we settled on Hotel Shelley, and it wasn't a bad choice at all. Sure, the hallways smell a lot like urine, or that the showers don't have a door and every time you take a shower, you create a mini-puddle. True, the rooms were a bit small, especially when you're cramming in 4-5 people to a room, but it wasn't too bad. Hotel Shelley is an Art-Deco building close enough to all the hotspots in SoBe. But the best part about Hotel Shelley, aside from its convenient location? Open Bar from 7-8pm every night, which we took full advantage of. We immediately bonded with JC, the 40 year old bartender (who looks like he's in his late 20s/early 30s) father of two (22 and 17 years old) and Gladys, who also bartends across the way at Lily's.

The food

Apparently, Miami Beach is known for its burgers! Actually, they were not, but it would seem that way, since I'm pretty sure I ate a burger (or four) a day while I was there; Krystal even brought some FatBurgers on the plane ride home. But the best burger EVER (yes, even better than In n Out – I know, sacrilegious!) has to be Five Guys Burgers and Fries! The meat is delicious, plus you get to put a lot of good toppings (grilled mushrooms, grilled onions, jalapeño peppers, and others) for free, and the fries were amazing!

We only really ate out as a group twice, once when we got lunch at a pita place (which was awesome) the day after we got in, and the other time was when we went to Sushi Samba Dromo. Coordinating feeding time with eleven people is a bit hard, especially when you wake up at different times of the day. That and achieving steady state of inebriation throughout the day was apparently higher on the agenda for the week.

The leisurely activities

The weather was quite balmy, mostly in the mid 80's, with a relaxing breeze from time to time keeping things nice and cozy. My only slight complaint was that at times, it was a bit cloudy. But for the most part, it was perfect beach weather. Relaxing in the afternoon while soaking up the rays, with a cold brewsky and checking out the scenery: a guy can get used to this.
And speaking of the scenery, man, was it a sight. There wouldn't be such a thing called a "South Beach Diet" for nothing, right? Like my friend said, when you live in a beautiful beach town like Miami beach, there's that internal and external pressure to look your best, whereas if you live in a colder area, evolutionarily speaking, you're probably more inclined to have "insulation". But what a beautiful sight! There are guys showing off in the pull up bars doing god knows how many pull ups to impress the adoring crowd. Not that I'm the one to complain.

The Life Lessons Learned

1. Be careful of your belongings – South Beach can be particularly treacherous when it comes to belongings. Case-in-point: someone from my group got their purse stolen, while another lost their phone while cavorting around the beach at night.
   
2. The best way to cure a hangover is to drink another drink – hahaha
   
3. Though to prevent wicked hangovers, it is probably wise to eat something beforehand, and especially avoid anything longer than a 12-hour fasting period.
   
4. Having things open until 5am can be a lifesaver
   
5. Along the same topics of a lifesaver, don't underestimate the life-saving power of a floatie
   
6. Sometimes, the best conversations you'll have with your friend is while eating questionable Cuban food at the airport.
   
7. It doesn't matter where you are – Miami Beach or Beaver Meadow, PA, as long as you surround yourself with good company, you're bound to have a good time.
   
8. What happens in SoBe, stays in SoBe, except if you took photos/videos. Those ridiculous photos/videos will live on in digital format forever in ignominy.
   

 

I live for the nights that I can't remember with the friends that I will never forget. Can't wait until our next week break in August. Did anyone say EuroTrip?

Episode Eighteen: To want and to have: one in the same or a dichotomy?

Nothing ventured, nothing gained
New horizons, ready to paint…
We'd only find ourselves by
Losing all control

Beyoncé – "Control"

In life, nothing worth having comes easily; nothing worth having comes without putting some sort of effort. I'm not cynical enough to think that someone who is "too good to be true" might really just be really good, and not "too good". Though if I were a betting man (and I'm not, I'm more of a shopper/people-watcher/pool-dipping kind of guy when I go to Vegas), I'd say that yes, he is a mirage.

A few months back, I was having a conversation with one of my friends over dinner and among the topics we discussed, aside from news and current events,(the impending Greek financial doom was just bubbling under the surface then) was our recent dating adventures. I was bemoaning the idea of dating, and how hard it is to find a suitable person to date in this city, in spite of what everyone else tells me. In a city that has been historically renowned for its tolerance and that features enclaves like the Castro, Noe Valley, Folsom Gulch/SOMA, and Polk Street Gulch, the common prevailing wisdom suggests this city is teeming with potentials. The next person that tells me this will get a comprehensive metacarpal impression in the jugular vein. Ok, well maybe that's a bit hyperbolic, but you get my drift.

She astutely reminded me that I can't complain about how there's no one out there for me when I haven't put the time and effort to find that person. To which I answered, touché.

There is a palpable disconnect between my actions concerning my love life versus the rest of my life. Like I've mentioned before, I'm a bit reticent when it comes to the affairs of the heart, which is a complete departure from how I approach other things in life. Maybe it's that when it comes to love, I'm ceding some control of my happiness to another person, and that's unnerving. There is that sense of vulnerability and that inescapable feeling that I might get hurt.

Frankly, as a student, I really don't have THAT much time to be raking through the proverbial haystack for that needle. But we'll never find that person sitting around idly twiddling our thumbs. If I have one more person tell me that "it will happen when you least expect it" or "you'll find someone when you're not looking", or any variants of these phrases, I might actually implode. Oops, there's that hyperbole rearing its ugly head again.

So taking her (and my own) advice, I have been putting myself out there a bit more. I'm trying to come out of my clammed-up shell and experience the joys and pains of dating. As Beyoncé said, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

However, just because you put yourself out there, doesn't guarantee that you'll actually get what you want. There are no absolute guarantees in life (except death and taxes). Inevitably, yes, I'll get hurt. And yes, recent experiences certainly hadn't gone the way that I want them to be, to the point of me rethinking this whole strategy. But then again, isn't that just part of life? We're so afraid of getting hurt, but sometimes, the actions that we take only shield us from continued growth as a person; losing all control may be the prescriptive solution to cure our hearts' ailments. And besides, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, right?

Alexander Pope said it best on his "Essay on Man": hope springs eternal. What makes us go through life's trials and tribulations is the prospect of a better life ahead. So you kiss a few toads along the way, but isn't it life more about the process than the final destination?

Next week, get a double dose of Single in the City! I'll be visiting Miami Beach with a few friends this upcoming week, and one of my favorite only-in-San-Francisco-lunacy Bay-to-Breakers is this weekend, and so I will be doing some on-the-field reporting. Finally solved the Vitamin-D-deficiency plague that seems to be affecting pharmacy students, but poor, poor liver; such is the joy of life.

PS: Congratulations to my esteemed colleague, Jed Wolpaw, for finishing medical school, and for many thanks for all of his wonderful insights and perceptive commentaries that he's provided over the years as the "Lub Dub" guy. We'll miss you! Happy trails!

Episode Seventeen : Restaurant Review - Bisou

Bisou
2367 Market Street
San Francisco, CA 94114
Neighorhood: Castro
415-556-6200
$$$ (out of $$$$$)
Five out of Five Stars

The lovably-huggable Chef Nick Ronin (of Chou Chou fame) does it again with Bisou, the newest restaurant in the heart of Castro. Bisou or "petit baises" means "little kisses" in French. It's about time that Nick infused his infectious and incredible persona in this neck of the woods, where pretentiousness and overpriced meals rule this fiefdom.

As usual, I was accompanied by my Chou Chou partners-in-crime Meg and Kat, and we were joined that night by Nancy (Meg's mom), Robert (Meg's friend) and his Jared. And as usual, I arrived a bit later than our 8pm reservation (though to my defense, I did warn them ahead of time). The opening night was definitely busy, even when I (finally) arrived at 9pm, there were still people waiting to get tables.

Its swanky interiors will definitely appeal to the Castro crowd. The red plush velvet has that warm and cozy feeling to it. I especially liked the mirror at the end of the "tunnel"; it was a nice touch. The fully stocked bar had stacks and stacks of beautiful bottles of liqueur. There was a second level, but I didn't get a chance to check it out; I saw pictures though (from the stills that Nick showed us when he was getting ready for the grand opening), and it looked very stylish without being overpowering.

Food preparation and presentation was impeccable, from the appetizers to the entrées and the desserts (more on that later). Bisou employs traditional French cuisine techniques and uses locally and organically grown products. The Salt Spring Island Mussels were great, though I still have a soft spot for the moulles from Chou Chou. The Beef Bourguignon was absolutely perfect; marinated for 24 hours and then braised for 4 hours, the beef really soaks in all of the rich flavors coming from the red wine broth, garlic, thyme, pancetta, mushrooms, and bay leaves. The Truffle Duck Leg Confit was so full of flavor; it was near-impossible to imbue any more flavors in the poor duck. The Steak Frites and its sauce (Bercy, Béarnaise and port shallot sauce) was so mouthwatering; the sauces complemented the meat quite delectably, and at times it was hard to choose which sauce to use.

Wine selection was commendable; compared to Chou Chou, Bisous had more California wines, and sadly, to my recollection, there was not a Malbec in the wine list. Our party had an assortment of red and white wine, but the one that I liked the most was the Grenache from Shannon Ridge, a Lake County Vineyard.

The desserts were amazing! I got the chance to meet James Choplin, Bisou's pastry chef (they're making a comeback!). And no, don't let the American-sounding last name fool you (he's from France); James can make some damn good patisseries. He pretty much told me that the Bisou experience wouldn't be complete without trying his desserts, and he was right. We got two orders of the Le Bisous pour deux, a 4-piece sampler of the desserts they offer; what can I say, we're desserts people. Each one was devilishly delectable in its own right. There was the Chocolate Caresse, a milk chocolate and caramel mouse with crème anglaise which was incredibly rich without being overpoweringly sweet. Then there was L'After Height, mint Mille Feuilles with a thin black chocolate leaf; normally, I don't like mint-flavored desserts, but this one had its way with me. The Pineapple Express was a collection of seasonal fruits with yogurt sorbet and crispy banana tuile served in a sugar glass. Patrick was not kidding when he said that the "Le Macaron" was not to be missed; French macaron, light pistachio cream, and fresh raspberries were like little drops of heaven.

Service was impressive, taking into consideration that it was their opening night. It also helps that my party knows most of the waitstaff, so it wasn't too bad waiting for the food to come. Also, as a shout-out, someone from Yelp gave a review saying that the bartender (I'm guessing Antoine) looked like Beyoncé; I would have to agree.

Bisou also offers a prix-fixe menu (from 5:30 to 7pm) for $26, something that is quite amenable to a poor starving student like me. Another plus is their kitchen is open late, Thursday to Sundays, until 1am! The menu is pared down to the "late-night" menu starting at 10:30pm, however it's still a pretty appetizing lineup: pasta (around $11), pizza (around $10ish), and Croque Monsieur/Madame (around $9ish) are a good alternatives to dining options in the Castro. For a vibrant metropolis, San Francisco needs more late-night options, and Bisou is step towards rectifying the dearth of food options.

Bisou also serves weekend brunches, from 9am-3pm. Not to be undone by other brunch places in the area, Bisou also offers bottomless mimosas and Bloody Marys. And if the thumping dance music from Lime has gotten old, a live swing band will tickle your fancies during the weekend brunches. Not to mention, you'll probably want to ACTUALLY eat the food, instead of tolerating it. I'm looking forward to having my Croque Monsieur, Croque Madame, or Omelette Parisienne on lazy Sunday afternoons.

I imagine Bisou being added to our regular restaurant rotation. It's just a bus ride down from my house, there are some holdovers servers from Chou Chou (makes reservations a breeze), and it's fairly reasonably priced. You've got a live one here, Ronin! May the curse of the Panam/Frisee/Crave be lifted from this amazing space! Maybe all it needed was a little Bisou!

Season Two, Episode Sixteen: The Art of Letting Go

Persistence versus wishful thinking/stupidity... When does one end and the other begin? Or are they just different sides of the same coin?

In life, how do we know when to persevere and when to give up? When do we fight on and when do we throw in the towel and wave the white flag?

For the most part, I would say I'm pretty realistic. I know my capabilities and my (ever increasing) shortcomings, and so, in most endeavors that I encounter, I can assess whether or not the task on hand is within my grasps, a bit of a reach, or has a meteor-landing-on-your-house probability of happening.

One of the things that I've learned to let go were grades. Coming into undergrad, I was that typical Honors/AP student, the go-getter and overachieving type. That big fat C in General Chemistry fall quarter of freshman year was all it took to derail me from that "straight A's" train that I was so certain I wanted to be a part of. At that moment in time, I had a realization that while grades matter to a certain extent, it wasn't the "end-all-be-all" that I thought at the time, and that learning was more important that regurgitation. It's not so much that I lost the will to persevere to get the good grades. I just came into the realization that it was displaced wishful thinking to strive to have a letter grade represent my capabilities.

These past two years, when I took on what seemingly were too many responsibilities, I definitely had my trying moments. I'm the first one to admit that there were times where I felt I was a bit over my head, overwhelmed with the responsibilities that came with each position. But I was confident in my abilities and my resolve, and even more so, I was confident in my support system. Sure, there were times when I felt like giving up, but I had my friends' and family's unrelenting support and I was able to get through some rough patches.

When it comes to relationships (or potential relationships), I'd like to think that the same axiom holds true for me. However, to me, it becomes exponentially murky and befuddling. It's always a see-saw battle of giving up versus fighting through, but when I fight through, more often than not, I feel like I'm swinging with my one of my hands tied behind my back, an eye patch on one eye and in a really foggy area in the midst of a vast quicksand.

To make matters more complex, I tend to be ATTRACTED to a lot of people, but when it comes to LIKING someone, I'm a bit more selective. So, when I actually find that SOMEONE that crossed the attraction threshold into the "like" category, I tend to pursue it like there's no tomorrow, to the occasional chagrin of some of my friends.

In terms of relationships, how do I know when to give up and when to keep pursuing someone? How often must we put ourselves in a vulnerable position to find out the answer? How often am I willing to stick my neck out and put my ego on the line? For me, I think about the potential gains versus the perceived risks, but more importantly, I think about the person that I'm interested in and see if he's worth all the "trouble". At the same time, everything is magnified, every text message overanalyzed, every Facebook status update scrutinized, every brief encounter replayed over and over searching for clues to lead me one way or the other.

I don't have all the answers; I might never do, but one thing is certain: I won't pretend that I know all there is to it about relationships, and that's where my trusted friends enter the picture. Sometimes, when we're involved with someone, we can develop myopic viewpoints and tangential conclusions; getting a different perspective from another person that you trust can only help. Not to say that I solely rely on their inputs to dictate what I do (last time I check, I still had a functioning brain), but I definitely take their opinions into consideration.

So you ask why not just ask straight up, right? As much as this is what I would do in any other situation, sadly, as I've been told by countless friends, the "games" are necessary evils, especially in a budding relationship. I'm still trying to wrap my head around that concept; the jury's still out on this one, but for now, I'll begrudgingly play along.

I'd like to say that I have the relationship quagmire as figured out as other aspects of my life, but sadly, this isn't the case. Is it worth all the trouble? I'd like to think to think that somewhere in the galaxy, there's that person that will make all that persistence worth it. Here's to hoping that I've found him already.

Season Two, Episode Fifteen: Intern in the City

The last few weeks have been kind of a blur. I remember taking my last Therapeutics final EVER. Then there was that 20 minute Health Economics final. Then I remember having my Therapeutics Oral Exam with Dr. Lee about a patient who has a cryptococcus infection. Then somehow, we were all done.

It was a bit anticlimactic. We had different scheduled times for the Oral Exams, and since the Oral Exams were our last final EVER, we all got done in different times. But for the most part, it was surreal. I've spent the last 8 quarters with my classmates, trudging through 8 am classes (some during our third year! How unfair is that!), frantically reviewing (or in some cases viewing) notes for an upcoming exam and having the time of our lives as we traverse through pharmacy school with a wonderful city like San Francisco as a backdrop (or in some cases, a critical co-star). And now the moment has finally come when we went our separate ways, albeit temporarily. For most of them, the next time we'll see each other will be during Graduation (in May 2011). I am one of the "lucky" ones to call San Francisco home for the next 9 months for rotations, but some of my dear friends have been assigned to the other satellite rotation sites for UCSF like Davis, Fresno (Fres-YES!), LA/OC, North Bay, and South Bay.

However, it felt good to be finally be done with didactic learning! Well technically for me, I still have a quarter left of classes (since I'm part of the Health Policy and Management pathway), so not really, but for the most part, we've all reached the point where we can apply all the theoretical knowledge that we've managed to soak up (or cram in some instance) and practice it in real-life patient interactions.

I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't nervous about this impending change. Rotations are a big deal. We're not playing with made-up patient cases anymore, so if I forget the dose on the test, in the grand scheme of things it's not that big of a deal, but now, we're dealing with actual people now, with presenting cases that are not as clear-cut or as neatly arranged for us. There's no "problem list" for us to look at and know what to deal with. For the most part though, I was very excited to start rotations. I'm the kind of person that learns a lot more effectively when I put concepts into practice.

So far, my life outside of pharmacy didactic learning is going well. For my first rotation block, I was assigned to Ambulatory Care for 6 weeks then followed by a week break, and then my General Medicine Acute Care block for 6 weeks. The last two six-week block will be my electives (Acute Care Pain Management at VA-SF, and Hospital Administration at SFGH).

After talking to a few of my classmates, I'm definitely glad that I started my rotations with Ambulatory Care. Coming into it, I've heard that it is a very doable rotation; not necessarily easy, but manageable. If this past week is a barometer, I'd say they were right on. I'm extremely happy so far with the clinics that I was assigned to. One of the things that I like about the Ambulatory Care set up is that I get to talk to patients one-on-one, and I get to manage their disease states or any acute disease they may be presenting with. Mostly though, I like the way the patients are receptive to our efforts, and that they are active participants in improving their health.

I'm partially dreading my upcoming block, because if it's anything like how my friends/classmates have described it, it'll be a seemingly impervious uphill climb a la 3^rd Avenue proportions. Heavy patient load (working up 18 patients a day is not unheard of), unreal expectations, copious amounts of stress and circling thoughts of imbecilities and uncertainties are all in a 12-hour-day's work (if not more). And you wake up early the next day for the next 5 days, and press repeat for the next 6 weeks.

But I feel as though this first six weeks will only help me prepare for the worst. I say this now, but we'll see if I'm still standing after this block.

PS: Last week's column was in fact an April Fools' Day edition of Single in the City. So, for the record, I'm still NOT engaged, and I didn't fly out to Milan. If only.

“Relapse” – Single in the City: Season Two, Episode Fourteen: Trouble in Paradise?

Last season, on Single in the City:

On Thursday, while we were enjoying the sunset at the cliffs, out of nowhere, he dropped in one knee (I know, how traditional of him), revealed this beautiful bracelet (because he knows I'm not a big fan of rings), asked for my hand and said "I'm yours forever, will you be mine?"

That was one of the happiest moments of my short but topsy-turvy life. The moment when Antoni Diamante asked me to be his forever. I didn't think I could feel that mushy, but in that instance I did, and every time I wear my Czech-glass-bead-adorned-bracelet, I do.

"Calm continueth not long without a storm." – Unknown, 1576

Oh, the engaged life, it can be fickle at times. On top of that, trying to live out a long-distance engagement makes life a bit more complicated.

It's been about year since Antoni and I have been engaged. For the most part, things are going well between Antoni and me. He finished his PhD Fellowship in Architecture from Sapienza Universita di Roma this past summer, and he was quite fortunate enough in this global economic climate to secure a plum position as an Associate Architect at Mario Bellini Associati (the same firm that has secured prestigious appointments such as the National Gallery of Victoria in Melbourne, the Tokyo Design Center, and the Museum of Islamic Art at the Louvre in Paris). Being a new associate to the firm, he's trying his earnest to make a good impression, and with it comes long hours, herculean tasks, and demanding clients. Needless to say, he is a bit short on time. However, he has made the effort of visiting me twice since he's moved to Milan for work. And we try to schedule a weekly Skype chat session to keep contact, though the 9 hour difference can make making time for a weekly chat a struggle at times. But again, anything that's worth having is worth all the work, right?

So you may ask yourself, what IS the problem? The last time he was in town, it was a week before my finals. I told him that I won't have much time to hang out since I would be busy freaking out and cramming for my last Therapeutics final. And also, it happened to be that the Saturday before my finals week was MHC's third monthly clinic.

Anthony is a volunteer at the clinic that I work for, MHC. He's a member of the Executive Committee (to which I am a part of also), and as such, we see each other frequently. We've also developed a friendly relationship, which would've been the source of contention as it turned out. I am the first one to admit that he's quite the good looking medical student that he is, but beyond that, there's nothing between us.

Antoni has seen a few photos of Anthony and I on Facebook (the evil big brother strikes again!) and there were some photos that were, in hindsight, a bit too friendly. Nothing scandalous or Lindsay-Lohan-esque, but viewed from a different perspective, it can be seen being suggestive and bubbling with intrigue. We'd talked about him before, and I thought we've ironed that problem out, but as I was about to find out, those pictures still bothered him.

When I told him that I have clinic that Saturday, he asked me who was going to be there. I didn't mind the question, but I answered it anyway. He asked if he (Anthony) was going to be there. I said: "yes, but why does that matter?" That's when he blew a gasket.

A simple argument turned into a full-fledged fight. That was the first time that I had ever seen him jealous. As in hopping mad, fuming-in-the-ear jealous. We had plans to spend my 11-day spring break in San Francisco, but he left for Milan 13 days early.

I thought of doing a "grand gesture" by flying to Milan during my spring break, and at first, I decided against it, mostly because of the hefty price tag that little act of love would've cost me (a shade under $1500). Was J-Lo right? Shouldn't love not cost a thing?

In the end, I ended up hopping on a redeye flight from San Francisco to Milan via Munich. When I finally tracked him down a few days later (he went to his grandparents in Tuscany), we hashed it out. He said that he needed a bit of time to think things through but that he still cares about me. Did we rush into this whole thing? Were we too blinded by that whirlwind winter romance two years ago in Paris? These were the questions that he had on his head, and the ones that he's looking for answers to in our time apart that he's requesting. He apologized for acting so brashly, but that at the time, that's how he felt. I apologize for not taking his feelings, and I understood that he needed time to figure things out.

Maybe because I was upset, maybe I was tired or maybe I thought my life my shattering, but as I was going through the security gates in the Malpensa Airport in Milan, I took off the bracelet, and as I was doing so, the bracelet snapped and the glass beads scattered all over the security checkpoint area. Was this a sign that things between Antoni and me are over? I want to believe that I can still repair the bracelet. There's still a chance of rainbow after the storm.