Certainty is a rare thing

Home is so good. Daily arguments with the brother who has come home from his freshman year of college with fresh ultra-liberal ideas for me to stomp on, there's also time to read and read some more, time for Counter-Strike, the World Cup, The Sopranos, and The Colbert Report. Still, this is all mixed with my research and applying to medical school. Summer is wonderful because it serves as the recharge to the severe drain that is the year, and I do not look forward to a time when this summer recess will not occur.

The roommate and I always have unpredictable but interesting conversations. Earlier today I was discussing with my roommate my desire to have children as soon as possible because of my advanced age of 20. If I were to have a child now, it'd be 18 when I would be 38, which sounds pretty good to me. Now I just have to find lucky Mrs. Othan.

I have had a growing concern with my choice of becoming a doctor being incompatible to being able to raise a child in the loving way that I've had myself. Combine that with the idea of raising a child while simultaneously being a doctor does not work with my strong desire to travel. I do not even know if I want my child to grow up in the United States, there is far too much chance that he or she would grow up to become ignorant of the world outside of the United States. I want them to learn a language prettier than English. I want them to eat different foods that are actually from the place that he or she is from. At the same time, I want him or her to enjoy the opportunities that America provides. I've decided that if dreams come true, I am going to raise my child in a different country, and suggest to him or her that they look toward America for post-secondary education. I am proud of America, but I want my children to have something a bit different.