A trip of reunions:

1. Aviatress Rudolphi: A very technically staged mid-highway interception of this elusive creature.  The van driver had obviously not read the memo on the appropriate response to the international “honk” sign.

2. Cousin John: A chance to catch up with this long lost genius in the desert over Green Chili Huevos Rancheros.  Apparently he’s getting hitched to the lovely Elizabeth.  New cousin alert!  The highlight of the visit being the image of CJ, donned in his Canadian Tuxedo, rushing my expansive array of luggage into the medical building while I was frantically ushered on to my interview.  I just barely beat the buzzer and left the administration at UNM wondering “Who was that dapper gentleman and where on God’s Green Earth did he acquire that accent?”

3. New Mexico:  The first place I ever camped was Elephant Butte, NM.  I remember this state fondly and have heard lore about how much everyone loves Albuquerque, however I was not prepared to enjoy this trip as much as I did.  I frolicked among the mountains and cacti, and bought crazy art on the streets of Old Town.  I also met a guy who made a gigantic custom turquoise and stamped silver belt buckle for Arnold Swartzenneger.  I put in a pre-order for a replica and will be back in 2018 with my first attending’s salary to pick it up.

4. Montana Kara: My old croney from the MSU Post-Bacc Program.  She, too, was on the Emergency Medicine interview trail and had a flight cancellation in Denver.  As unfortunate an event as this was, it provided the opportunity for a meeting of the minds in Terminal B.

5. Scottie V: The gentleman who is single-handedly responsible for keeping me alive and putting a roof over my head for much of my tenure in Bozeman. This reunion was long overdue– has it really been five years?!?  After minimal contemplation it was agreed upon that neither of us have changed a bit (with the exception of our increasingly good looks) or begun to show any signs of maturity (pronounce maturity in this sentence as maToority rather than maCHurity for optimal effect).

6. Colorado:  Always will have a soft spot in my heart for this majestic place.  Just to When-In-Rome my experience I drove to Boulder and ate falafel, drank spiced chai, went on a run from Chautauqua Park up to the Flat Irons, and zenned out in the Prana store.  Ommm.  I heard that a pair of old buddies from Boze had opened a namesake bar in Denver so I headed over to check it out.  I had to luck in tracking the boys down but did have the satisfaction of seeing how successful their business has become.  I’ll be back demanding free whiskey in exchange for this shameless internet advertising- no need to send a thank you card!

The wrench in the system came, however, when I was sipping a microbrew in uptown Denver and the gentleman next to me told stories about living in Albuquerque.

I pondered the possibility that this might be a sign but dismissed the thought.  Then, I walked out of the establishment only to discover that I had been sipping my sweet barley beverage on none other than… Santa Fe Street.