I am going to Utah.
In 7 months, I will drive the 38 hours almost across the country and start measuring addresses by their distance from the Temple. Yes. That Temple.
And I will know not a soul for miles and miles.
My husband will be in Philadelphia (probably with our cats, because we all know that if I take the cats he'll just get...more cats) and I will be in Salt Lake City. And with our frequent flier miles we will go to Fiji at the end of this endeavor.
We are both happy with our fellowships. Maternal Fetal Medicine at Utah is a dream fellowship, arguably the best in the country, depending on whom you ask. I wanted it, badly, and I got it because I'm good and I know the right people, and one of the guys there is from Minnesota and went to St. Olaf and has a combination of Buddhist and German Philosophie quotes in his office. And when I was there I went to the Red Butte Gardens and had a blissful nap on a bench (like drifter) and went to Red Iguana for one of the best Mexican meals I've had in a long time. And the airport has free wireless and good restaurants. And the lack of humidity means my hair was so smooth and easy to blow dry.
Brandon gets to do the prestigious health policy research fellowship he's always wanted. And that is right for him.
I know I will be happy, in part because I am the sort of person who is happy, but I am scared too. Scared because I will know no one. Scared because I will be hours from my husband. And scared because I matched to (arguably) the best program in the country and now I need to prove to them that they didn't make a mistake.
The have a yarn store and a Unitarian church. If I can find somewhere with good Zumba and good yoga, I can make do with anything. Wish me luck.