All the f-ing time in the world

Today is Sunday. Next Thursday is Thanksgiving. I would kill and eat the turkey with my bare hands if I could just hear SOMETHING by thanksgiving. Like, honestly, at this point, a rejection would be better than just waiting and waiting and waiting... It's inhuman is what it is. When I have my own med school, we will meet right after we've interviewed the applicants, decide within 24 hours (because it's not like you are waiting on new information at that point!), and then send notification within 4-5 days of the interview. I mean, really, why does it have to be 6-to-8-to-26 weeks? rrrgls. UVA actually notifies applicants within like a week of their interview. How reasonable - if only some of the schools I interviewed at had as much humanity!

It's just driving me nuts - either my life will be set on a really cool and rewarding course, or else I have to start from square one and figure out wtf I will do with my time on this little rock hurtling through space.

Ugh... yup pretty much going crazy. Creative/enlightening/hilarious blog posts will resume when my mind is not in a constant state of suspended torment.

Wait (More) Like a Boss

My apologies for the long absence. Things have been very much in limbo since I completed my last med school interview. I am, in essence, working and waiting. But I am determined to wait like a boss! So far, I have not heard anything, good or bad, from any of the schools. I suppose that, as they say, no news is good news, but it is frustrating to have to wait for decisions (having waited to GET interviews) (having waited to GET secondaries) (having waited to GET MCAT scores) (etc)...

But I suppose this is as good a chance as any to recap what has gone on up to this point:

1) I f-ed up my college transcript with shitty grades, due to a lack of effort (or at least, a lack of effort in class. I put plenty of effort in to my guitar skills!). That was circa 2007.

2) I went out in to the real world (NYC) and got reamed by life/ my terrible job/ being poor/ trying to be a musician.

3) I rebooted my life. Left NYC and moved to Philly where I got a master's degree in biotechnology (and got reamed by student loans). Applied to med school unsuccessfully (sort of). Met my woman in Philly, and we moved to...

4) The Desert Southwest. Had a great year working in a lab. Retook the MCAT and pwned it. Reapplied to med school.

5) Got 6 interviews. Moved to New England.

Which brings us to today. The interviews occurred between 1 and 8 weeks ago. And now, we wait...

Also, I have been playing a lot of guitar again. Listening to lots of music, including:

Alter Bridge: AB III
Protest the Hero: Scurrilous
Winger: Karma
Mr. Big: What If?

So yeah... I haven't gotten in to med school yet, but I am close...so close.

Interviews done...Hammerzeit

Today I completed my last med school interview - and I am quite relieved. It has been a crazy month, and now I have 6 interviews behind me. Did I nail the interviews? Will I get an offer of admission? Should I have offered my body to the interviewers? (and if not, oops)

I have no effing idea, but now there is nothing more I can do - and that's a good thing. Pressure is off. I might possibly get a couple more interviews later this year, but for now, the die is cast. I sit, and I get really really good at waiting.

Although I am somewhat exhausted from all the travel/working full time/working my other job, I will share one quick story from my interview today.

I was at the school in Boston(ish...), and the interview was in the dreaded Massively Multiplayer Interview format where you have like 10 interviews, each of them 10 minutes long, and each involving some role-playing or ethical dilemma or philosophical question etc.

So one of the interviewers was this guy who was pretending to be a patient telling me his history, and every 2 minutes, he'd pause and ask me to recount as many details from the story as I could. I rocked the first two minutes, and did pretty good in the next couple minutes, and then basically deteriorated from there. By the end I was totally information-overloaded, and couldn't retain anything he told me.

Him: "OK, go ahead and tell me what you remember from that last section of my patient history."

Me: "Ummmm... pretty sure you said something about...words...and there was a...um...you had some coughing and pain in your...balls? And/or face."

The following comic perfectly expresses how I felt that interview ended perfectly. Enjoyez-vouz. (P.S. @HeavyMetalVixen, don't worry, this is almost entirely a dramatization for entertainment purposes only, and actually I think the interview went very well overall).

Until Jesus Enters You

So my interview in Boston was sweet. I LOVED the school (in downtown beantown), and I could totally see myself there. 100%. It was a good feeling. They accept 1 out of 3 interviewees, so the odds are kind of against me, but, you know, its a crapshoot.

The interview itself was very chill and conversational, except for one part, where I was asked to role-play an ethical situation about religion. It was rough, but it turns out the dude was a total atheist, which was cool. Good times.

She's What!?

Headed to Beantown tomorrow for an interview on Friday. It's going to be... an interview. Haha - at this point, I really just want an acceptance. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not. Ugh.

I cook all the time because my girlfriend is in med school. I long for the good old days... [sigh] Back in the kitchen female!

iiiin West Philadelphia born n' raised

So I am in an airport again, this time headed to West Philadelphia, my old home. I lived in Philly for a couple of years, and I am actually kind of excited to visit. I'll try to get to some of my old stomping grounds, and some of the awesome restaurants. I'll be hanging out with a couple of friends today, and tomorrow I'll be hitting up my 3rd interview.

It has come to my attention that I cannot remember the last time I had a true day off from life, and that I have no idea when the next one will be. I get 2 days a week off from work, and for the last...4 weeks? I have had shit to do. All of October is booked with travel (interviews and visiting family), and so my current hope is that November will bring a day where I can sleep in till 2pm, crawl to the couch in my superman pajamas, and watch TV till I get hungry, at which point I will slither to the kitchen and grab some Doritos with hot sauce... yesss....

Not that I am complaining! Interviews are going well, and I am excited to do these last 3 interviews in October, and I am super excited that I might get in to med school before xmas. Having said that, I need to plan for 2 scenarios:

Scenario 1: I Get Accepted to Med School

Should this scenario come to pass, there will be revelry. Said revelry will begin with me running balls-naked down Main st. in Metalton screaming like a madman and waving my Golden Ticket high in the air. In the unlikely event that my acceptance arrives in a form other than a golden ticket in the mail, I will print a golden ticket on my printer with the word "Accepted" on it). I will then arrive at Metalton Town Hall and burst spontaneously in to a big Broadway rendition of "I Got the World on a String" backed up by a cast of 200 chorus girls and men in tuxedos. In the unlikely event that my spontaneous cast of 200 is completely unprepared and/or non-existent, I will do the number alone. And then find some clothes and get dressed.

Scenario 2: I Do Not Get Accepted to Med School

Should this scenario come to pass, a sobbing, despaired, enraged, lunatical rampage will most likely ensue. Said rampage will begin with me running balls-naked down Main st. in Metalton screaming like a madman and crying like a fat kid whose last slice of cake was just smashed by Gordon Ramsay. I shall then...oh hell, I shall then pick myself up, dust myself off, and start all over again!

Red Eyes, Long Flies, Empty Guts and Full Butts

I hate those people who are like, "Boo hoo I hate interview season because there is just SO much traveling. I have to go from New York to Boston to LA to Chicago to St. Louis to LA to bla bla bla I have so many interviews every med school is lining up to give me scholarships." And then they post every place they go on facebook. Shut your cake-hole, douche!

So having said that, traveling sucks. I am very very happy to be returning home from my second interview, but I am not very happy to be sitting in the Denver airport at 11pm waiting to catch my red-eye to Newark to connect to a flight to Boston at 6:30am so that I can catch a bus to Metalton, where I won't even have time to go home, and instead will go straight in to a 7 hour shift at the Filthy Gunslinger.

When will I even poop!? When will I eat!? I haven't been in a private area since I checked out of my hotel this morning at 10am, and won't be home till 8pm tomorrow. No changing clothes, no showering, no sleeping, no pooping. (Edit - No, I am not one of those people who can't poop in public, but come on, airports? Do I really need Larry Craig peeping at me through the glory hole while I'm trying to drop a deuce? Come on...)

But the interview at the University in the Desert was great. It was fun being back - I got some good burritos, went to some of my old haunts, and I think the interview went great. As they say, I will only know how great (or not great) it went in a few weeks when I get (or do not get) an acceptance!

Also, I came across this, and just had to share it with you:

WORST. GLORY. HOLE. EVER.

Protest the Gyro

Ho. Lee. Shit.

Today is a good day. Sorry HMV, but it's time for a metal-related post. Today I discovered my new favorite band - Protest the Hero. They are from Canada, like proto-prog rockers Rush, and they are astounding. Perfect. Just perfect. Technical but tasteful. Virtuosic but hooky. Perfect. I will listen to their entire catalogue over the next day or two, and report back.

Today is a good day. Sorry HMV, but it's time for a beer-related post. Today a new friend of mine gave me a home-brewed beer. I was impressed enough that he was able to brew a beer at home period, but this beer is perfect. Dark but springy. Chocolatey but rich and serious. Totally badass.

Well, tomorrow I'm off to Maine to hang out with some college friends of mine - there will be debauchery, which is sorely needed after all this work and applications and Kaplan and stuff. Then on Tuesday, it's back to the desert for my second interview of the season. THEN, its HMV's white coat ceremony! Very sweet.

Adios amigos!

Unimpressed baby is unimpressed.

So the interview in or near or not so near to Detroit Rock City was great. I had a blast - they treated us really well, and the group of kids was really chill. There was a noticeable lack of gunners, which was great, cause that meant there was a good deal of camaraderie and revelry. There was also a noticeable lack of Asians, which concerns me somewhat... but I guess there aren't that many Asians who want to live in Detroit...? I feel like the # of Asians interviewing at a given medical school is directly proportional to the quality of the school... Asians flock to good schools like teenyboppers to a Twilight midnight showing. I don't know. But what I do know is this - may I present for your consuming pleasure:

Axl's New Mathematical Law of Chillness:

[gunners] α -[chillness]

or, in English, "The concentration of gunners in a system is inversely proportional to the concentration of chillness in that system." Copyright.

OK, so this mathematical truth might not be super original or surprising, but I just felt that it was time to codify this in an immutable law of nature. And copyright it so that if anybody suggests this in the future, I can gets some royalties, and then buys me a ferrari and a plum orchard. Yes, those are the two things that I want above all.

Oh, there was this ONE gunner, who was hilarious. He looked like he was about 12, literally, and I was like, "How's the interview season going for everybody, is this everyone's first one?" Everybody's like, "Yeah, this is my first one, really enjoying it" blah blah blah and then Gunner McChode-Face goes "Actually, I've already had a bunch, but whatever [yawn]." Literally, just like that. And he just looked bored to tears the whole day. I was like, dude, have you been to the beach recently, cause you need to get that sand out of your mangina.

The interviews themselves went well - there were 2 half hour ones. The first one was with a member of the adcom. It was very conversational, and I am pretty sure I made a good impression. The second one was with a baldy, wrinkly physician at the local hospital, and it was a little tougher. The guy was not very responsive or interactive at all, so I was left to prattle on about how awesome I was, which is kind of uncomfortable. You know, because I was having so much fun talking about myself that I had difficulty hiding my rager. The physician kind of looked like a giant unimpressed baby for the whole interview, which is not ideal... whatevs, he was probably just jealous of my awesomeness. Or my rager.

Anyways, it was a good day. How good? I'll tell you in 6-8 weeks when they get back to me! I am now in an airport on my way home to Metalton. Will be glad to be home, although it will be a short-lived relief since I have a shift at the Filthy Gunslinger starting at noon tomorrow. That pole aint gonna dance itself. Back to the grind!

Detroit - Rawk Citay!

Little known fact - there are over 3 medical schools in the state of Michigan! Well, at least that was little known to me.

I say this because the anonymity retainment consultants I hired to shield me from prying adcoms advised me not to disclose the names of schools that I am interviewing at, due to the sometimes often almost always crass and sophomoric nature of my blogging. But as it turns out, I can tell you that I am flying to...

DETROIT, ROCK CITY!!

since there are in fact more than 3 medical schools in that area, thus you can never deduce exactly where I am interviewing, and my crass rants can continue unabated on this blog.

But for now, I will just say that I am super excited to be going to Detroit - the rock city. I never thought I would ever be in Detroit, but the school I am interviewing at in/near/a long drive from Detroit is really cool.

Tomorrow, we feast on the...broken dreams of... adcom members who voted against me 2 cycles ago!!!

We RIDE!

Waiting: like a chump or like a boss!

Waiting for secondaries or interview invites or interview days or final decisions is a marathon. A waiting marathon. It's basically the Olympics of waiting.

Sometimes, we forget that. Today is one of those days for me. Up until I got my first interview invite a few days ago, I was totally relaxed - I basically forgot that I was waiting for anything (which is the pro way to wait!). But then I got that invite, and then another one, and now, I'm jonesing for more! I was all up on SDN today just trying to figure out what schools were sending out invites, what schools weren't, what were the trends from last year etc. It's easy to lose your cool like that because there is so much riding on getting these interviews.

But then I was like, wait, I'm a pro waiter! I'm the Leonardo Davinci of waiting. Last time I applied to med schools, I waited 11 months just to find out that I didn't get in anywhere! This one time, I waited for like 12 years...for my 12th birthday to come, beotch! I aint no chump, I'm going to not even know that I'm waiting for anything! I'm gonna wait like a boss!

The Dog Days of Purgatory (feat. Sassy Moses)

People sometimes ask me how I know that I will like being a doctor. Let's play a little quiz game:


Q: Wanna know how I know that I'm going to like med school and being a doctor?

A: Because I'm going through hell to get there. And after hell, well shit, even purgatory looks like the tits.


OK, maybe I'm not going through hell, but this period of my life will forever be known as... the Bummer Summer. No, the Acrimonious August. The Time Not So Sublime? The Dog Days of Dog Turds? The Before-Fall's Walls-to-walls Punch in the Balls? The Pre-Autumn Smacked-Bottom?

I don't want to turn this totally awesome and metal blog in to a sissy little bitchy diary, but August has been really tough. HMV and Bobbins Magellan Mouse-Destoryer 3000 have moved to New England ahead of me and started med school (the HMV has, not Bobbins. He's deferring a year). That has left me alone in the great American Southwest, with no car, no cat, no girlfriend, no stuff in my apartment, and no money (moving expenses I guess). So I've basically been subsisting off ramen, pasta, rice, eggs, frozen pizzas, and whatever else I can dig up. I'm working two jobs, and trying to sell the last of my shit in my free time. If I want to go anywhere I have to take the shitty bus system or walk. I've walked more this month than fucking Moses did in his whole life.

However, there's a purpose to all this. Literally everything I've done in the last 3 years has all been towards one goal: getting in to med school. And now I am nearing the finish line (again), and honestly, the day I get the call that I'm in... I don't even know... that will be a good day. And if I don't get in anywhere, it will be a kick in the nuts, and I'm not sure where I'll go from there. Hopefully, we won't have to find out.

Anyways, I scheduled my two interview invites for mid-September and early October. Let the games begin.

Invasion of the killer interviews from another dimension!

Score! Second interview invite, this time closer to home, in my old stomping grounds - Philly!

Karma, thou art a saucy bitch

Karma is a bitch, Newton's third law reigns supreme, and the Ying-yang twins creep me out a little bit.

This morning, I got an email telling me that my bank account got overdrafted. This happened because the geniuses at Comcast told me they were going to do one thing and then did another. Comcast is officially a choad. Is that libelous? I hope so. Come get some Comcast.

Anyways, literally two minutes after I received that gem of an email, I got another email from a medical school in the midwest inviting me to interview. SUCK THAT COMCAST! The hypocratic oath be damned - when the CEO of Comcast comes in to my OR, there might be a little accident. "Oh you wanted your appendix removed? So sorry, what a mix up! That word, "appendix", it does sound so much like the word "hand" doesn't it? It's funny how sometimes people tell you they will do one thing and then end up doing an entirely different thing..."

Anyways, no, I will not hurt people when I am a doctor. Today is a good day, overall! Onwards and upwards. My interview will be in September, and I shall duly report the experience.

The Dreaded Massively Multiplayer Interview

The topic of the day in Pre-Med world is the NYT article about the new Multiple Mini-Interview (MMI) format for med school admissions. People are freaking out because it's new. In a sentence, in this new interview format, you have 8 or 9 mini-interviews instead of one or two half-hour ones, and each interview is a scenario or ethcal dilemma that you have 8 minutes to deal with. Then on to the next room.

I think it sounds pretty cool - way more entertaining that explaining for the billionth time why I want to be a doctor (same 4 reasons as everyone else dude: chicks, money, power, and chicks), and why this school is my fave ( "There's just no place as dope as this, mister! You have a sim lab!" I swear, when I find a school that doesn't have a sim lab, I'm giving them a frikkin prize).

Anyways, for those of you freaking out about the MMI, fear not! For your eyeballs's pleasure:

Axl Rose's Once-a-day Low-sodium Acne-fighting Blemish-Concealing One-night-only Guide to Winning the MMI!

Rule #1: Be a Dick

Counterintuitive? Sure, why do you think I wrote this guide? (For the $benjamins$, of course). You might think that being a dick is a bad thing for med school interviews. Get with the times grandma! That was in the OLD system. Wanna know who is going to win the MMI? Do you remember that frat guy who stood on the porch of the frat and blasted his douche music and, on Halloween, named eveybody's costume as they passed by, preceded by the word "slutty"? Remember that? "Slutty vampire! Slutty cow! Slutty robot! Slutty ninja!" Well not only was he strangely accurate in his evaluation of your costume, but THAT is the guy who's going to rock the MMI. This new interview format is all about being confident in your own opinion, about thinking on your feet, and being able to chill with the interviewer. If you are going to think too much, you're toast! Dorks are out, dicks are in!

Rule #2: Have sex with the interviewer, immediately.

Regular readers of my blog might recognize this step from my BAFTA-winning entry on How to Win the MCAT. Look, I understand that some people might be uncomfortable with this rule, especially since there are 9 interviews in a row. But you know what, sometimes you have to roll the hard 6 (or 6-and-a-half in my case). The medical profession is all about sacrifice - and it starts now. Do the right thing.

Rule #3: Don't punch the interviewer in the face.

Counterintuitive? Sure, why do you think I wrote this guide? You may be tempted to punch your interviewer in the face. I recommend against it...







Rule #4: Wear one of those tear-away stripper suits.

But Axl, I thought you were supposed to dress conservatively at these things? Yeah dude, you were, in the OLD system. Get with the times Larry King. In the OLD interview system, you had a leisurely half-hour or an hour to make an impression. Now you have 8 minutes. So how are YOU going to make an impression, huh? Answer the questions honestly to the best of your abilities? OH! Good idea! Good thing nobody else thought of that!

[facepalm sigh] It's ok. That's why I'm here - to guide you through this thing. You need to make a big impression in a little time? Tear-away stripper suit. Every time. I speak from experience - I don't think I've ever been forgotten by an interviewer after stripping for them. If you had more than 8 minutes, I'd recommend a regular suit, but since it's just 8 minutes and you have to do it 9 times, I'd go with the tear-away model. Oh, and if you have a bachelorette party coming up, or a bar mitzvah, or a retirement party, and you need a stripper, I offer very reasonable rates. And I have experience and photos if you need them.

Rule #5: Always send a thank you card after the interview...

And inside the card? Cold hard greenbacks baby. Nothing says thank-you like money in the bank-you. Whatever you can afford, it doesn't have to be much. But that's the way the system works, you know? It's not pretty, but it's the way it goes. Oh, and don't mention the word "bribe" or "kickback" in the card itself. They are a little sensitive about that kind of thing. They prefer "secondary application fee".

(Burrrrn! :)

~~~

And there you have it folks! Foolproof! Bulletproof! Axlproof!


(P.S. Props to rude-boy13 on deviantart for the slutty robot - aaawesome!)

Ride of the midnight rider at night

So on another sleep-related post, I'm actually not going to get any sleep on Friday as planned, due to the fact that there is a Kaplan make-up class on Sat at 9am. It was going to be Monday at 6pm, but then I remembered that Monday is Valentine's day, and that if I were to cancel, my life would be canceled by my gf.

Not really, she's a sweetheart, hehe..(ohgodpleasedonthurtmebaby!). Also, she has had 11 med school interviews this season. That's one-one 11. I know, right? Whatever, I too shall have 11 med school interviews this summer. My cunning plan is to trade my body for interviews - has that been done before? Hmm... perhaps not so cunning as I initially thought...must regroup and come up with a cunninger plan...more on that later.

Anyways, since I can't seem to put together 6 hours in a row for sleep (I know I know all you MD's, you'd kill for 6 hours of sleep. Frankly, I have higher standards), I think I just need to accept it and get in to a rhythm. Starting every night at 10pm, I shall become the midnight rider, charging through the wee hours, my textbooks reflecting the moonlight, my pens a-whirling, my highlighters a-highlightin', my determination striking fear in the eyes of all who behold me...which is no one since it's frikkin the middle of the night.

p.s. I've decided that having a new metal-related image on every post is setting the bar too high. I'm a low-setter (cause I got it like that), so this post simply includes a bad-ass semi-metal post-related image. From this guy, who is pretty sick: http://chrisrawlins.deviantart.com/art/The-Headless-Horseman-68110704

I dream of Dio

I am a sad sad man.

When I was a kid, I would have these crazy awesome dreams. Dragons, flying, lances, adventures, basically a Ronnie James Dio song (RIP you golden, golden god). Sometimes I still have cool dreams - I recently had a flying dream where I had to really work to stay afloat. It's all core strength - the moment you lose tension, you're down baby!

Anyways, last night, I actually dreamed about having a med school interview. Which is sad. I even remember answering the "Why do you want to be a doctor" question. I had a really good answer, I think, but I don't remember it now, which is too bad. If I could just get all my interview practice while I sleep, that would be bomb.

Of course then I'd probably show up at the actual interview:

Them: "So why do you want to be a doctor, son?" (In my mind, they are all kindly old southern gentlemen who call me son)

Me: "So that I can slay the dragon with my hypodermic needle of doom!

Them: "Good good, and what would you say is your biggest weakness?"

Me: "I have no weakness fool! Bow before Zod!"

Them: "OK great. Can you tell me about a time when you overcame a challenge?"

Me: "I need to poop, right now. Scuse me"

Them: "Oh no problem, we'll wait."



To put this in perspective, and to give you a little background on Axl Rose (I sometimes refer to myself in the third person, cause I got it like that), I have actually been to 3 med school interviews before, so I have a sense for what the questions are like. Usually the interviewers in my dream ask pretty accurate questions...

My interviews went well last time (2009), but I ended up on 2 waitlists and 1 "conditional acceptance" at a school that shall go unnamed. Suffice it to say, I did not meet the conditions of acceptance, which was unfortunate. No, I do not have a criminal record, no I am not a drug addict. It's a long story for another time. Mostly, my GPA sucks. But that was not the condition for acceptance...

I need to poop, right now.