Home Sweet Home?

And so it starts, this period of self denial (of all things we can and should be doing, eating, playing) for a delayed gratification of scoring well on the National Board Exams. Sixteen months of island torture (of more self denial) had boiled down to this the penultimate moment of my pathetic existence as a medical student. Now is the challenge to try to remember EVERYTHING I was taught and learn the things I never learnt on Survivor, Dominica. By the end of it, I hope I will be able to tell my head from my ass.

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Phoenix looks a little strange after this long sabatical from the cacti I hate to love and the dry desert winds that blow dust in my eyes so that if someone were to look at the opportune moment, they would think I was crying in the joy of returning "home". And, where did all these damn Asians come from? Seems like everywhere I looked, we seemed to have quadrupled in quantity. Was there some sort of mass refugee exodus I wasn't aware of? Or, worse, am I back in Dominica?!
All I can say is this: I was here first and I will start dog pissing on everything in sight to stake a claim on my territory.