Martinis and Medicine

A friend of mine recently convinced me to start a blog, apparently under the impression that what I have to say would be of interest to others. (A misconception I'm sure he'll come to realize in time.)

A blissfully brief introduction: years ago I went to college with the plan of going straight on to medical school. After a few surprises along the way, not the least of which being the sudden passing of a good friend during Spring Break of my sophomore year, my mid-life crisis came twenty years too early. In this time I also found a knack for playwriting, which I further explored by way of a theatre major and even now put to good (and occasionally mischievous) use. In the past few years I've gone through alternating periods of self-discovery and trials by hellfire, leaving me to question everything I had ever known about myself and the natural order of the world. Then all of a sudden, I woke up and realized I was 26 years old and no closer to reaching my life's goals than when I first dreamed them.

That's when I realized that life really is what you make from it.

So now I sit here, typing this blog post into cyberspace, groping my way blindly back to the middle of the road to find--and realize--my dreams. Whether I make it or not, at least I tried, right?

One last note: I'm uploading this photo of Alan Alda for my profile. TVLand's decision to re-air the series M*A*S*H has had an oddly profound effect on my life--maybe one of those "right place, right time" situations. I've always respected Alan's natural talent as an actor, writer and director throughout his life, but watching the show's reruns these past few months have made me painfully aware of the gap between who I am and who I want to be. For that, as strange as it sounds, I'm truly grateful.

If you're with me so far, thank you. I'll try to make this blog worthy of your patronage. If not, just head to Dunkin' Donuts for your free bagel and coffee; just give them my name--they'll know who I am.