I live in an older white house on the south side of the city; creaking floors and recalcitrant doors are common. It's a charming house, with hard wood floors, and white walls and beams, and my favorite, a claw-foot tub. It's the kind of house that yawns and stretches throughout the day as the sun rises and the afternoon air becomes warm, sometimes humid, and when the air begins to cool, it settles. I have four windows- grouped into pairs- that take up almost two walls in my room. My room is never without sunlight, but I wouldn't dare cover them with thick curtains. The house was in some kind of disarray according to my two new roommates, but as the week has progressed, I feel we have cleaned and organized to the point that the house that they once knew is becoming that house, again.
My house is next to an elementary school. Or in other words, my house is next to a giant, brick alarm clock. This school is the reason why my street becomes a river of cars every afternoon, Monday-Friday, from approximately 3:00-3:30 PM. At the first of last week, I learned this truth, and after collecting a very rude note left on my windshield when forced to park alongside the road where I sat in a stalemate, I learned that "that" neighbor was to be avoided and that the southern hospitality of Monroeville need not be assumed here in Birmingham. However, I was almost exited to have such a rude handwritten note left on my car, and so I actually kept it to put in my journal.
Birmingham is: a city on hills, a city on wheels, a city of trees, and a big grid of streets and avenues (I've come to think of circles and drives as no-man's land between North and South). Birmingham is also a coffee cup that never empties. People drink coffee here like everyone's car must be drinking gas to get up the hills (not me though, I'm getting 35 mph in my Tucson on average). I had one of the best iced vanilla lattes that I've ever had at Urban Standard (and a honey cream cheese topped blueberry muffin). Though, I missed the cozy and warm feel of Overall Company dearly. I just don't think Overall can be beat. So if you're still in the Auburn area, make the most of that place, and those squashy couches and perfect playlists.
UAB's hospitals and centers are a hamster maze. As an intern, I'm clearly the hamster. I will be that person looking at a map desperately trying to figure out how to navigate the genius that is the second floor bridge system between hospitals. However, it is only genius when you understand it, so not only am I a hamster, I'm a stupid hamster that can't find the cheese to save my life...yet.
Orientation in a nutshell: "what have I done to myself?"
No joke, I'm pretty sure I told that to the people who called Monday afternoon.
"Hey Martha Lee Anne, how did it go?"
long pause as I tried to use my squishy brain, "what have I done to myself?"
No worries though, following the reassuring session with old interns, I realized we all start off as stupid hamsters and end up as Registered Dietitians. I'm sure that even Darwin would find that kind of transformation impossible, but I'm telling you, it happens.
Students at UAB are fancy pantsy. There's a constant stampede of high heeled shoes through the school of health profession's doors each morning as interns are being oriented. The sharpness of those black pencil skirts and patent leather shoes make me reassess my sweet dresses and belts and flats. However, I realize that after 8 hours of standing, I will still be standing, and they will be crawling, and so, I happily sip my morning coffee and ignore the allure of those four inch heels.
I ended the week at a small place called Rojo that serves Latin and American food just off of Highland Ave. I found the cluttered things on the walls interesting and the tangles of colored lights outside on the patio charming, and strangely, relaxing against the quiet of the dark park across the street. I had arugula chicken tacos with pineapple salsa and they were everything a taco should be; at least, in my opinion. We ended up meandering over to Parkside where I had a coffee stout and I tried out my x-ray vision powers to see through two fur trees in an attempt to watch the musicians play, but it seems I don't have x-ray vision, unfortunately. I liked it there. I liked watching the people there: the break dancers, the acoustic players, and my friend Hillary laugh.
Saturday, I spent all day with Alex watching movies and documentaries at the Sidewalk Film Festival. We saw: Pride & Joy, The Most Fun I Ever Had With My Pants On, Muscle Shoals, and Animals. They were all good, but Muscle Shoals was definitely the best documentary and Animals was so weird that I loved it (of course). After watching Pride & Joy (A documentary on southern farming, food, and cooking) I think the food trucks selling friend chicken tenders, catfish, shrimp, and wings at the Jazz Festival a block or two from the Alabama Theatre made bank.
Sunday, I washed dishes, tidied my new room, looked at the things that need to be hung on the walls and let them stay on the floor. I probably worked on this blog that I'm just now finishing about three weeks later.. but I still think of my roommate's words in relation to navigating Birmingham, "the grid is life."
She's right, it only takes knowing the grid to know Birmingham, but I still think Birmingham should have a sign that says, "welcome hamsters."
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