Rescuer. That is who I am. Rescuing nearly every member of my family out of whatever crisis they may be enduring has been a constant in my life since as far back as I can remember. Be it money, babysitting, advice, moral support, or a place to stay. I rescue because A). They need rescuing and B). It feels good. Like Phoebe from Friends said, "There is no selfless good deed". She argued that people do good deeds for the sole purpose of feeling good, therefore concluding that even doing good is selfish.
And really, what is wrong with that?
By making myself feel uplifted, the receiving people reap the benefits so its a win-win situation. Full circle you might say.
But there is a downside of being the hero. With that comes expectation that the receiver will succeed in that if you help them out, they will flourish. As in the case with the Touhy family from the Blindside movie where they took in a homeless teen who went on to become a professional football player. He strived because of the opportunities the Touhy's provided, their belief in him, and his own will to succeed.
Though that was a "true story", real life doesn't always work out like Hollywood.
Finding a box of needles and a vial of an unknown fluid in my niece's belongings the other day just about crushed me. Sure I was concerned for her safety, but really, it was more about me. I felt like a failure. I provided her with a place to stay when her own parents would not welcome her. And beyond that, I laid down some pretty strict ground rules which she not only agreed to, but also welcomed. I couldn't "save" her.
Then I put my work hat on and reminded myself that it wasn't me. It was her. Her choices, her decisions. I can provide the opportunities, but she needs to have Michael Oher's will to succeed. I can only do so much, and like I said before, the rest is up to her.
Now, that vial is in being tested to find out what that fluid was (methadone?, morphine?). Nikki claims it was water which she used to flush out her needles when she was using. She says she hasn't used in several weeks, and that this box happened to be in her belongings when she moved her stuff here. When she found it in her belongings, she "freaked", didn't know what to do, and put them aside. She says this with sincerity, and I want to believe her. However, I am also realistic and skeptical of this crafty drug user who is residing in my home.
We're still waiting for the test results of what that fluid was. If it is water, I will continue playing rescuer. If it isn't water, well, I may have to hang that hat up on this one.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Learning to Share
My whole life I have never really had to share. I had my own bedroom growing up, and having 3 brothers, I never even had to share clothes, belongings, or even toys really. Never have I had a roommate let alone a house guest if only for a week or so. What's mine has always been, well.......mine. And I like it that way.
So now that my niece has moved in, I have to learn to share. Its an adjustment for sure. For example, I came home from work today intending on doing laundry only to find the dryer full of all of her clothes. She is not even here to remove them. So I can either remove them myself or wait a bit longer to do my own clothes. At least it is a good excuse to postpone the laundry :)
Sharing is not easy when I have spent 37 years doing what I want to do when I want to do it. However, sharing my stuff is far easier than sharing my space. Gone are the days of bathing (and peeing) with the door open.
On the upside, my cats have a buddy when I am not home. I have an extra body to help with shoveling or hauling in groceries. Selfishly, it gives me peace of mind knowing I am doing the right thing by helping out a struggling family member.
And, if I die or take ill, I have someone who will be right here to find my lifeless body so the cats don't eat me.
So now that my niece has moved in, I have to learn to share. Its an adjustment for sure. For example, I came home from work today intending on doing laundry only to find the dryer full of all of her clothes. She is not even here to remove them. So I can either remove them myself or wait a bit longer to do my own clothes. At least it is a good excuse to postpone the laundry :)
Sharing is not easy when I have spent 37 years doing what I want to do when I want to do it. However, sharing my stuff is far easier than sharing my space. Gone are the days of bathing (and peeing) with the door open.
On the upside, my cats have a buddy when I am not home. I have an extra body to help with shoveling or hauling in groceries. Selfishly, it gives me peace of mind knowing I am doing the right thing by helping out a struggling family member.
And, if I die or take ill, I have someone who will be right here to find my lifeless body so the cats don't eat me.
Friday, December 23, 2011
Stands to Reason
My parents are the most difficult people in the world to buy gifts for, but I think my dad even has my mom trumped in that department. Buying gifts for him is extremely difficult. Every year at this time I get a call from my brother who asks me for ideas. Of course I keep the good ideas for myself, and by the time those are used up, I am fresh out of good ideas.
So when that predictable annual call came this year, I, naturally, had no ideas. My brother called my mom, my aunt (my dad's sister), and me all for advice on what to get Dad. We all came up empty.
Then my brother informs me that he is going to call on someone he sought advice from last year. Someone who gave him some pretty decent ideas.
The local Bartender.
My brother and I chuckled at the absurd reality that the Bartender knows our dad better than anybody in our entire family. But the fact is, he has always spent more time at the bar anyway, so it stands to reason I guess.
So when that predictable annual call came this year, I, naturally, had no ideas. My brother called my mom, my aunt (my dad's sister), and me all for advice on what to get Dad. We all came up empty.
Then my brother informs me that he is going to call on someone he sought advice from last year. Someone who gave him some pretty decent ideas.
The local Bartender.
My brother and I chuckled at the absurd reality that the Bartender knows our dad better than anybody in our entire family. But the fact is, he has always spent more time at the bar anyway, so it stands to reason I guess.
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Giving Birth
I did something I never thought I'd do today. I gave birth. Well, not to a bouncing human baby or anything, but rather to a rectangular piece of technology. Otherwise known as a cell phone. An Iphone 4 to be exact.
After months of contemplating the inevitable, I decided to join the modern times, abandon my stubborn ways, and purchase this new appendage.
An acquaintance warned me against getting one insisting that it would be the equivalent of getting a child. Indeed it is.
Like a child, I must protect it. Before leaving the house, I now have to take notice of where my phone is, and bundle it up to take along for the ride. When it is in my presence, I must always be mindful of where it is, what it is doing. When it is not in my care, I will, certainly, be wondering what it is doing.
And tonight, while washing dishes, my new "child" cried for me. I debated whether or not to abandon my household duties to answer its cries, but decided it could wait. Afterall, I don't want to spoil it, and my dishes had to get clean.
That brings me to my pledge. I vow to not be a cell phone snob. I won't make my new phone my priority when I am hanging out with buds. Certainly I will become adept at hitting the "ignore" button. My phone will not venture with me on most hikes (or at least be on SILENT) as I want to experience nature without the intrusion of technology. I vow I will put my physically present friends above my technology texting friends remembering that the texters can wait. It does not have to be much different than having a land line in that messages can be left, texts can be returned, and there is no law that says a phone MUST be answered (though I think some people believe that law does exist).
Much like a new baby requires an adjustment period, so does this new rectangular child of mine. For the next few days, I will want it within my sight at all times, be scared to leave it when it comes time to go to work, and be eagerly anticipating when I can pick it up once again.
Also, like a new baby, It was love at first sight.
After months of contemplating the inevitable, I decided to join the modern times, abandon my stubborn ways, and purchase this new appendage.
An acquaintance warned me against getting one insisting that it would be the equivalent of getting a child. Indeed it is.
Like a child, I must protect it. Before leaving the house, I now have to take notice of where my phone is, and bundle it up to take along for the ride. When it is in my presence, I must always be mindful of where it is, what it is doing. When it is not in my care, I will, certainly, be wondering what it is doing.
And tonight, while washing dishes, my new "child" cried for me. I debated whether or not to abandon my household duties to answer its cries, but decided it could wait. Afterall, I don't want to spoil it, and my dishes had to get clean.
That brings me to my pledge. I vow to not be a cell phone snob. I won't make my new phone my priority when I am hanging out with buds. Certainly I will become adept at hitting the "ignore" button. My phone will not venture with me on most hikes (or at least be on SILENT) as I want to experience nature without the intrusion of technology. I vow I will put my physically present friends above my technology texting friends remembering that the texters can wait. It does not have to be much different than having a land line in that messages can be left, texts can be returned, and there is no law that says a phone MUST be answered (though I think some people believe that law does exist).
Much like a new baby requires an adjustment period, so does this new rectangular child of mine. For the next few days, I will want it within my sight at all times, be scared to leave it when it comes time to go to work, and be eagerly anticipating when I can pick it up once again.
Also, like a new baby, It was love at first sight.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Up to Her
My niece Nikki and I have always had a close bond. Her circumstances were not the greatest being raised by an alcoholic father and a drug addicted mother. Her parents eventually separated which led to her mom being in several unhealthy and abusive relationships, which Nikki was witness to and probably victim of. Her mom lost custody so Nikki went to live with her alcoholic father. There, her life wasn't horrible, but it certainly wasn't perfect. Nikki basically had no supervision from a very early age (she even landed in the hospital for malnutrition since she lived off of Doritos and soda).
Enter me. As a child, I took her on special vacations to Wisconsin Dells and Valleyfair. She spent days (and even weeks) at my house in the summer. I was able to provide her with a little bit of stability, if even for a few days. We were buds.
Then life happened. Nikki became a victim of her past, blamed her parents, and began acting out. She spent time in several treatment facilities, but none seemed to impact her. In fact, she began cutting on herself, drinking, using drugs (including needles), and was quite promiscuous (with girls so at least no risk of pregnancy....whew!). And she never completed school.
Recently she finished treatment for drugs and alcohol, but weeks after, ended up with a DUI and domestic assault charge against her then girlfriend.
She is now homeless. Not welcome at her mom's house, and not willing to live with her dad, she is now staying at the local homeless shelter.
She phoned me last night to get a ride to the shelter. By the time I got back to her, she found her own ride there. Since she had inquired earlier about living with me, and being denied, she did not inquire again. And I did not offer. Part of me wanted her to experience the shelter, see where her life is going, where her choices have got her. Part of me was upset, disappointed, and a bit disgusted with her. I had high hopes for that girl and wanted her to be successful.
But then I couldn't sleep last night.
After careful consideration, I decided to offer my home to my niece. Oh, there will be rules. Strict rules. After 19 years of not having any rules, this may come as a bit of a shock to her, but if she doesn't abide by them, she will be evicted. At least I attempted. At least I tried. The rest is up to her.
There will be a contract (including rent) and basic expectations (including getting a job and obtaining her GED). It will be clear that I am not here to provide entertainment for her, but rather as a stepping stone to a better life.
Like I said, I will provide the tools, the rest is up to her.
Enter me. As a child, I took her on special vacations to Wisconsin Dells and Valleyfair. She spent days (and even weeks) at my house in the summer. I was able to provide her with a little bit of stability, if even for a few days. We were buds.
Then life happened. Nikki became a victim of her past, blamed her parents, and began acting out. She spent time in several treatment facilities, but none seemed to impact her. In fact, she began cutting on herself, drinking, using drugs (including needles), and was quite promiscuous (with girls so at least no risk of pregnancy....whew!). And she never completed school.
Recently she finished treatment for drugs and alcohol, but weeks after, ended up with a DUI and domestic assault charge against her then girlfriend.
She is now homeless. Not welcome at her mom's house, and not willing to live with her dad, she is now staying at the local homeless shelter.
She phoned me last night to get a ride to the shelter. By the time I got back to her, she found her own ride there. Since she had inquired earlier about living with me, and being denied, she did not inquire again. And I did not offer. Part of me wanted her to experience the shelter, see where her life is going, where her choices have got her. Part of me was upset, disappointed, and a bit disgusted with her. I had high hopes for that girl and wanted her to be successful.
But then I couldn't sleep last night.
After careful consideration, I decided to offer my home to my niece. Oh, there will be rules. Strict rules. After 19 years of not having any rules, this may come as a bit of a shock to her, but if she doesn't abide by them, she will be evicted. At least I attempted. At least I tried. The rest is up to her.
There will be a contract (including rent) and basic expectations (including getting a job and obtaining her GED). It will be clear that I am not here to provide entertainment for her, but rather as a stepping stone to a better life.
Like I said, I will provide the tools, the rest is up to her.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Leggings
Just as I entered the 21st Century by updating my hair style, I am edging closer to the 80's again with my wardrobe. But its the "new" style now so I'm good.
Yesterday I bought my first pair of.....leggings.
Yes, leggings. They were my standard style of dress in the 80's. Remember the stirrup pants? I always felt like going out and riding a horse when I wore those (though I have never been on a horse before). Do people who ride horses actually wear stirrups or did I just feel like riding a horse because of the name "stirrup"? Things that make ya go "hmmmm"......
Anyway, I forgot how comfortable legging are!! Wow! So cozy, soft and flexible. The complete opposite of jeans. Then of course, a person can get the best of the leggings world AND the jeans world and wear the ever ambiguous "jeggings". No, I don't think I will go that far, but Yes, yes, I may start wearing more leggings.
However, I am not completely comfortable in them yet so not sure I will wear them around my work crew just yet. For now, they will be my day off attire.
So, moving forward with the hair and backward with the clothes :)
Yesterday I bought my first pair of.....leggings.
Yes, leggings. They were my standard style of dress in the 80's. Remember the stirrup pants? I always felt like going out and riding a horse when I wore those (though I have never been on a horse before). Do people who ride horses actually wear stirrups or did I just feel like riding a horse because of the name "stirrup"? Things that make ya go "hmmmm"......
Anyway, I forgot how comfortable legging are!! Wow! So cozy, soft and flexible. The complete opposite of jeans. Then of course, a person can get the best of the leggings world AND the jeans world and wear the ever ambiguous "jeggings". No, I don't think I will go that far, but Yes, yes, I may start wearing more leggings.
However, I am not completely comfortable in them yet so not sure I will wear them around my work crew just yet. For now, they will be my day off attire.
So, moving forward with the hair and backward with the clothes :)
Friday, December 9, 2011
The Energy of the Moon
Bundling up on a frigid Winter night to face the bitter cold is a fun challenge. There is just something about putting on enough layers to feel toasty warm when the temperature says 2 degrees. Sure, a person might feel a bit like Ralphie's brother, Randy, in the movie "A Christmas Story", but its like an act of defiance.
Mother Nature, or maybe Jack Frost, dares you to get out and experience the chilly air. Add to that a full moon and cloudless night, and its an unavoidable temptation.
A temptation I succumbed to tonight. The moon was crazy gorgeous as it was rising so I put on my snow pants, my down jacket, hat, boots, mittens, and all the necessary winter gear and ventured out for a full moon experience. Last year I wanted to experience every full moon of the winter, but succeeded in only enjoying about 3 full moon lit nights.
Off to Enger Tower I went, good buddy in tow. Peering down over our beautiful city under a full moon was awesome. The silvery moon shone down on the calm Lake, perfectly highlighting a single ship waiting to enter the Harbor. Just below, the lights of Bentlyville (a Christmas light show spectacular) twinkled and blinked to unheard Christmas carols.
Spooky shadows danced upon the frozen ground as we made our way back to the vehicle. Though it was brisk, we took refuge beneath our furry hoods which served as a wind shield for our faces. Yes, we beat the cold. We won. The cold did not prevent us from taking in the beautiful sights our city has to offer. And, in fact, we stayed warm.
Each full moon brings about a new found energy. Rumor has it nursing homes and.....mental health units....are a bit more unsettled during the full moon. I certainly feel how this could be true since I become exhilarated from soaking up the energy of the moon.
Like last year, I again intend to appreciate each full moon of the season.
Mother Nature, or maybe Jack Frost, dares you to get out and experience the chilly air. Add to that a full moon and cloudless night, and its an unavoidable temptation.
A temptation I succumbed to tonight. The moon was crazy gorgeous as it was rising so I put on my snow pants, my down jacket, hat, boots, mittens, and all the necessary winter gear and ventured out for a full moon experience. Last year I wanted to experience every full moon of the winter, but succeeded in only enjoying about 3 full moon lit nights.
Off to Enger Tower I went, good buddy in tow. Peering down over our beautiful city under a full moon was awesome. The silvery moon shone down on the calm Lake, perfectly highlighting a single ship waiting to enter the Harbor. Just below, the lights of Bentlyville (a Christmas light show spectacular) twinkled and blinked to unheard Christmas carols.
Spooky shadows danced upon the frozen ground as we made our way back to the vehicle. Though it was brisk, we took refuge beneath our furry hoods which served as a wind shield for our faces. Yes, we beat the cold. We won. The cold did not prevent us from taking in the beautiful sights our city has to offer. And, in fact, we stayed warm.
Each full moon brings about a new found energy. Rumor has it nursing homes and.....mental health units....are a bit more unsettled during the full moon. I certainly feel how this could be true since I become exhilarated from soaking up the energy of the moon.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
My Favorite Night of the Year!
Cozy Pajamas.
Paper hats.
Delicious food.
Hearty laughs.
Hot Cocoa.
Christmas lights.
Fun Friends.
Make for one Fun Elf Night!
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Feeling the Spirit
Pissed as I am about having to work on yet another Christmas, I keep reminding myself how unforgettable last year's Christmas was which eases the amount of anger even if for a little while. As an act of rebellion, I vowed to not put up my tree or any decorations. That would sure show them! Besides that, it somehow seems pointless to put up a present-less tree for the cats. They just undecorate it and chew on the power cords anyway. Its just a bunch of unnecessary work putting up a gawdy tree in a teeny tiny living room. So no tree or lights for me this year.
Then something happened after listening to some Christmas songs on the radio (Little Drummer Boy, anyone?) Perhaps like the Grinch, my "heart grew three sizes" after hearing that song, but the spirit came over me.
The Spirit of Christmas and the Spirit of Elf. Yes, Elf. Its time for my annual Elf party on Tuesday. Usually I like to decorate for my buddies to help us get into the Spirit of Elf. I was going to consider not decorating, but I am just so excited to host Elf that I decided to decorate!
First, it was just going to be lights. Then, I figured "what the hell" and got out the tree. Then the ornaments. Then the shelf of snowmen and Santas. Yes, it looks a little like Will Ferrel vomited Christmas in here :)
I am more excited for Elf Night than I am for Christmas, so why NOT decorate? Yet another newcomer will be making an appearance making the grand count at 5 humans, 3 felines, and one overgrown Elf.
Then something happened after listening to some Christmas songs on the radio (Little Drummer Boy, anyone?) Perhaps like the Grinch, my "heart grew three sizes" after hearing that song, but the spirit came over me.
The Spirit of Christmas and the Spirit of Elf. Yes, Elf. Its time for my annual Elf party on Tuesday. Usually I like to decorate for my buddies to help us get into the Spirit of Elf. I was going to consider not decorating, but I am just so excited to host Elf that I decided to decorate!
First, it was just going to be lights. Then, I figured "what the hell" and got out the tree. Then the ornaments. Then the shelf of snowmen and Santas. Yes, it looks a little like Will Ferrel vomited Christmas in here :)
I am more excited for Elf Night than I am for Christmas, so why NOT decorate? Yet another newcomer will be making an appearance making the grand count at 5 humans, 3 felines, and one overgrown Elf.
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| Tino had to help me decorate :) |
Saturday, November 12, 2011
Out of Care and Concern for my Brother
My brother called me up frantically asking if I could pick up a prescription for him. Since he had to pick up his girlfriend from the airport, he would not be able to make it to the pharmacy before it closed. Whatever medication it was, he could not wait until the next day to get it. So I obliged, and agreed to pick up his prescription for him.
Before calling me to get it for him, my brother called my parents' house to get my phone number. Of course, my mom questioned why he wanted my number so my brother told her about the prescription.
Now, my mom was unaware that my brother was on any kind of medication and was rather curious what he was taking especially because he has a reputation for misusing prescription medications. As any mother would do, she phoned me up and told me to be sure to let her know what this medication was that my brother needed so urgently.
After I picked up the prescription, I immediately wondered how on Earth I was going to tell my mom what I had discovered.
Would I be breaching my brother's confidence?
Would he want his mom to know (let alone his little sister)?
Could I keep a straight face when I told my mom that my brother was taking........
Viagra?
Before calling me to get it for him, my brother called my parents' house to get my phone number. Of course, my mom questioned why he wanted my number so my brother told her about the prescription.
Now, my mom was unaware that my brother was on any kind of medication and was rather curious what he was taking especially because he has a reputation for misusing prescription medications. As any mother would do, she phoned me up and told me to be sure to let her know what this medication was that my brother needed so urgently.
After I picked up the prescription, I immediately wondered how on Earth I was going to tell my mom what I had discovered.
Would I be breaching my brother's confidence?
Would he want his mom to know (let alone his little sister)?
Could I keep a straight face when I told my mom that my brother was taking........
Viagra?
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
My Momma and Me
Who would have thunk that such a tiny critter could cause such a huge scare for my family.
This is the culprit
Not the penny. The tick on the penny so shown to illustrate the size of the tiny creature who caused havoc on my momma.
My mom got sick. Real sick. So sick she called me to bring her to the ER on Saturday. After tests and more tests, they found "nothing" and sent her home with a "stomach ulcer" and prescriptions for Maalox and Prilosec.
Whatever.
Three days, 2 CT Scans, 1 Ultrasound, 2 Chest X-rays, 1 EKG, 3 urine tests, and about 30 vials of blood later, we have our answer. Erhiculosis. A tick borne illness similar to Lyme's Disease treatable with antibiotics. WHEW!
Though it isn't all hunky dory. In addition to Erhiculosis, she has pneumonia complicated by Emphysema, and another bacterial infection called H. Pylori. Other possibilities thrown around are concerning words like "diabetes" and "oxygen tank". Though the last two are unlikely, it remains scary stuff, but overall that news is way better than what could have been.
Yes, we thought she could be at death's door, and wow, did it age my ever youthful mom. Weak from dehydration and not eating for 4 days can do that to a person, but to see it done to my mom is petrifying. A glimpse into what the future could hold. Giving my mom a shower in the hospital is not something I ever thought I would be doing. Seeing her so weak and vulnerable saddened me. She is still in the hospital, but hopeful to be home soon with added strength and usual humor.
My dad has more important things to do, like keep the bar stool warm, so I have been running two households: my own, and my mom's. Dogs, cats, and fish to be fed and exercised. Never mind my dad; he can fend for himself. Though in his attempts to be helpful, he did unload the dishwasher. Too bad the dishes were dirty and needed to be returned to their original position in the dishwasher. It was a good attempt I guess.
If all of this has taught me anything, it has taught me that I am capable of handling a crisis situation. In fact, I do pretty darn good in the midst of a crisis, and take charge when other's won't. Especially when it comes to my mom.
See, she is more than my mom. She is, in every sense of the word, my Best Friend.
This is the culprit
Not the penny. The tick on the penny so shown to illustrate the size of the tiny creature who caused havoc on my momma.
My mom got sick. Real sick. So sick she called me to bring her to the ER on Saturday. After tests and more tests, they found "nothing" and sent her home with a "stomach ulcer" and prescriptions for Maalox and Prilosec.
Whatever.
Three days, 2 CT Scans, 1 Ultrasound, 2 Chest X-rays, 1 EKG, 3 urine tests, and about 30 vials of blood later, we have our answer. Erhiculosis. A tick borne illness similar to Lyme's Disease treatable with antibiotics. WHEW!
Though it isn't all hunky dory. In addition to Erhiculosis, she has pneumonia complicated by Emphysema, and another bacterial infection called H. Pylori. Other possibilities thrown around are concerning words like "diabetes" and "oxygen tank". Though the last two are unlikely, it remains scary stuff, but overall that news is way better than what could have been.
Yes, we thought she could be at death's door, and wow, did it age my ever youthful mom. Weak from dehydration and not eating for 4 days can do that to a person, but to see it done to my mom is petrifying. A glimpse into what the future could hold. Giving my mom a shower in the hospital is not something I ever thought I would be doing. Seeing her so weak and vulnerable saddened me. She is still in the hospital, but hopeful to be home soon with added strength and usual humor.
My dad has more important things to do, like keep the bar stool warm, so I have been running two households: my own, and my mom's. Dogs, cats, and fish to be fed and exercised. Never mind my dad; he can fend for himself. Though in his attempts to be helpful, he did unload the dishwasher. Too bad the dishes were dirty and needed to be returned to their original position in the dishwasher. It was a good attempt I guess.
If all of this has taught me anything, it has taught me that I am capable of handling a crisis situation. In fact, I do pretty darn good in the midst of a crisis, and take charge when other's won't. Especially when it comes to my mom.
See, she is more than my mom. She is, in every sense of the word, my Best Friend.
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| My mom and I at my Aunt's Hawaiian themed wedding. |
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| At yet another wedding |
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Becoming Pinocchio
My emotions have been front and center lately. This is very peculiar for someone who had to force tears at a Make-A-Wish Foundation training session while watching movies of children with terminal illnesses. Don't get me wrong, I'm not cold hearted by any means. Its just that my emotions are pretty stuffed controlled, and I tend to choose when and where to let them loose. That occurs usually only once or twice a year.
Lately, that is not the case.
Just today, I found myself in tears on three separate occasions, and more seem to be at the brim. Overall, I am rather happy, but certain images or stories will elicit strong emotions within me where normally I would think, "oh, how touching", and move on with my day. Unless its a Disney cartoon with a human/animal or animal/animal bond, I remain pretty dry-eyed in the most heart wrenching movies. I shed not one tear during Stepmom or My Sister's Keeper (But throw in Ice Age or Brother Bear and I sob uncontrollably).
So it was rather odd to feel the tears travelling down my cheek after watching J.R Martinez's performance on Dancing With the Stars. A Dancing show made me cry! Me! Very strange.
http://www.thehollywoodgossip.com/2011/10/jr-martinez-on-dancing-with-the-stars-an-inspiring-tear-jerking/
Then, while watching a video clip of a young woman hear for the first time after getting hearing implants, the tears fell again.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsOo3jzkhYA&feature=player_embedded
Most would agree that both stories are touching, and most would even shed a tear. Its just a little out of the ordinary for me. And just the other day, my mom informed me that she was saying nightly prayers for a friend of mine. Good thing I had my sunglasses on because my eyes welled up with tears and that familiar lump surfaced in my throat.
Perhaps its because my life has been a little more emotional. Not necessarily my life, but several of those who are close to me.
Or perhaps, like Pinocchio, I am becoming a real girl.
Lately, that is not the case.
Just today, I found myself in tears on three separate occasions, and more seem to be at the brim. Overall, I am rather happy, but certain images or stories will elicit strong emotions within me where normally I would think, "oh, how touching", and move on with my day. Unless its a Disney cartoon with a human/animal or animal/animal bond, I remain pretty dry-eyed in the most heart wrenching movies. I shed not one tear during Stepmom or My Sister's Keeper (But throw in Ice Age or Brother Bear and I sob uncontrollably).
So it was rather odd to feel the tears travelling down my cheek after watching J.R Martinez's performance on Dancing With the Stars. A Dancing show made me cry! Me! Very strange.
http://www.thehollywoodgossip.com/2011/10/jr-martinez-on-dancing-with-the-stars-an-inspiring-tear-jerking/
Then, while watching a video clip of a young woman hear for the first time after getting hearing implants, the tears fell again.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LsOo3jzkhYA&feature=player_embedded
Most would agree that both stories are touching, and most would even shed a tear. Its just a little out of the ordinary for me. And just the other day, my mom informed me that she was saying nightly prayers for a friend of mine. Good thing I had my sunglasses on because my eyes welled up with tears and that familiar lump surfaced in my throat.
Perhaps its because my life has been a little more emotional. Not necessarily my life, but several of those who are close to me.
Or perhaps, like Pinocchio, I am becoming a real girl.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
My Little Secret
I now know why Superman wears his underwear on the outside of his clothing:
He swaggers down the street with a calm confidence. He is definitely "all that and a bag of chips". His shit certainly does not stink. And nobody is gonna mess with a dude like that.
I get it now. I really get it.
One of the best things I did on my vacation was to purchase new underwear. I cannot stop talking about my undies. I'm telling coworkers, men and women alike, all about how I have robots on my butt. They are so fun and, like I do with most new things, I have now become obsessed with my panties.
I get out of bed in the morning with a bit of excitement for picking out a new pair of underwear to put on for the day. As I slide them on, I peek in the mirror, say "oh yeah", and give my booty a love tap! Oh, my God, I cannot believe I am blogging about my underwear.........times are slow for blogging topics I guess.
Still, my undies are on my mind all day long. I choose my panty of choice based on my activity of the day. For example, my favorite pair of underwear are grey with pink robots all over them. I mindfully chose not to wear them to work one day in case I had to work on another floor. I did not want to "waste" them on people I don't care about. So I saved them for a day I was certain I would be working with my usual coworkers. Does this sound a bit messed up to you?
Nobody sees them. Or at least, they are not supposed to see them. But that day I forced at least two coworkers to take a peek at my robot undies. And last night at a bonfire, I showed the whole crowd (only they weren't the robot ones this time). I was sober mind you.
Yes, this may seem all a little too obsessive and extreme, but wearing my novelty panties makes me feel happy. I, too, walk with a little more confidence (I admit my shit does indeed stink, and I don't believe I come with a bag of chips....) all because of the simple pleasure of my little secret under my pants.
OK, that sounded dirty.... ;)
I get it now. I really get it.
One of the best things I did on my vacation was to purchase new underwear. I cannot stop talking about my undies. I'm telling coworkers, men and women alike, all about how I have robots on my butt. They are so fun and, like I do with most new things, I have now become obsessed with my panties.
I get out of bed in the morning with a bit of excitement for picking out a new pair of underwear to put on for the day. As I slide them on, I peek in the mirror, say "oh yeah", and give my booty a love tap! Oh, my God, I cannot believe I am blogging about my underwear.........times are slow for blogging topics I guess.
Still, my undies are on my mind all day long. I choose my panty of choice based on my activity of the day. For example, my favorite pair of underwear are grey with pink robots all over them. I mindfully chose not to wear them to work one day in case I had to work on another floor. I did not want to "waste" them on people I don't care about. So I saved them for a day I was certain I would be working with my usual coworkers. Does this sound a bit messed up to you?
Nobody sees them. Or at least, they are not supposed to see them. But that day I forced at least two coworkers to take a peek at my robot undies. And last night at a bonfire, I showed the whole crowd (only they weren't the robot ones this time). I was sober mind you.
Yes, this may seem all a little too obsessive and extreme, but wearing my novelty panties makes me feel happy. I, too, walk with a little more confidence (I admit my shit does indeed stink, and I don't believe I come with a bag of chips....) all because of the simple pleasure of my little secret under my pants.
OK, that sounded dirty.... ;)
Thursday, September 8, 2011
What I Did for Week 3 of my Vacation/Staycation
Only one more day of bliss. One more day to do whatever whenever however. No time table to keep to, no alarm to wake to, no kids to strap down on a bed. I was blessed to have very good weather for the duration of my vacation and I certainly made the most of each day.
Week 3 was a little more of the same, but the following is the remainder of the list of what I Did on My Summer Vacation:
Week 3 was a little more of the same, but the following is the remainder of the list of what I Did on My Summer Vacation:
- I totally forgot to mention on my first list that I mastered the technique of peeing in the woods. I'll spare you the details, but I successfully tinkled several times without splashing pee all over myself.
- See #1 above....I peed on Park Point today....
- I got some Mom Time in which is always a blessing
- I mourned the loss of my 80's bangs, but grew to embrace and enjoy my side sweepers.
- Walked bare foot on the beach.
- Sat on a rock overlooking the city contemplating how little grasshoppers look like tiny robots.
- Snuggled with Tino on the chillier mornings under the blankies.
- Part way winterized my garden
- Appreciated each and every second and gave thanks for the sunshine.
- Mentally prepared for the return to work.
- Plucked 235,123 grey hairs from my head....man oh man, they popped out like whoa recently
- Finished yet another book. Ahhhh.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
What I did for Week 2 of My Vacation/Staycation
I am now officially beyond the halfway point on my vacation. Less than a week left and I have to return to work. The only bad thing about being on vacation is that it makes it that much more difficult to return. Well, here is a list of my second week of vacation activities:
- I called 911. Yup, on my neighbors who were having a domestic dispute. However, the real motive for the call was to phone up my friend who could give me the play-by-play from her 5-0 radio (police calls). It was pretty uneventful.....
- I officially entered the 21st century. Though I am still getting used to my new do, I am growing fonder of it by the day.
- I got big girl underwear. Or rather, as it was clarified to me, I got teenager underwear. I had been wearing "Old Lady Undies" AKA Hanes Her Way (though the bikini style if you must know), but now I am wearing novelty panties which I LOVE! What is better than having a pair of panties with a ruffle or cute saying on the butt? I tell ya, I love my new undies. Probably the best thing I did on my vacation sad as that may be ;)
- I played some Super Mario World. I get into those games, sweat, and get pretty worked up. Its so fun!
- I rode my bike. I haven't been on my bicycle for many many years, but a nice 10 minute bike ride might just awaken that desire.
- I have been brushing my teeth with a new SoniCare toothbrush. Fun and so clean.
- I stepped out of my comfort zone hard core and went out on the town with the ladies for a bachelorette party. Good times in a Hummer Limo, more drinks than I have had in years, and belly laughs galore!
- I painted my nails!
- I went on a spending splurge and bought new clothes and a few accessories.
- Not once did I inquire how work was going, though information was offered to me unsolicited.
- Went to the movie "The Help" which was an excellent and powerful film. It takes a lot to make me cry in a movie, and this one started the waterworks on more than one occasion, but then it pushed the funny button and had me laughing.
- Helped out a friend a few different times while she struggled with some family health issues.
- Spent the day at the beach! One of my main goals was to spend the day at the beach. Too bad the water was too frigid to actually go in for too long. In fact, I could only go in while "high stepping" (running quickly with high knees). And even then, my calves and feet began to get numb.
- Continued to obsess over Words With Friends.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Letting Go is Not Easy
Dearest Poofy Bang,
I miss you so much! I cannot get used to this new intruder, the side sweeper. Desperate as I am to embrace and welcome this foreign being, I just cannot summon the same feelings I had for you. You were easy, comfortable, and made me feel polished. Though I know it was your time to go, I just had to make my feelings clear. After spending over 3 whole decades together, you are hard to let go. I'm hoping it is just a matter of time before I develop the same affection for my new found bangs.
I miss you so much! I cannot get used to this new intruder, the side sweeper. Desperate as I am to embrace and welcome this foreign being, I just cannot summon the same feelings I had for you. You were easy, comfortable, and made me feel polished. Though I know it was your time to go, I just had to make my feelings clear. After spending over 3 whole decades together, you are hard to let go. I'm hoping it is just a matter of time before I develop the same affection for my new found bangs.
Ode to the Poof
Dearest Poof, Oh how I miss you so!
It is so hard to let you go.
With your slight curl and ratty way,
Birds could play in there all day!
Full of spray and a mile high
You could almost touch the sky!
A sticky mess when you'd get wet
But to me you were heaven sent.
I'm hoping my new side sweeper
Will better show off my Peepers.
More easy flowing and care-free
I still look like Peppermint Patty.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Entering the 21st Century
An amazing thing happened this week. It may be a decade too late, but it happened. I stepped out of the 1980's and entered the 21st century. My hair style has been updated. Its been a long time coming, and something I have wanted to do ForEver, but I have never had the courage or the know-how.
My hair has been a bone of contention for me for my whole life, and I am still not convinced I love it. It is taking some getting used to. Yesterday, when I got the ever important "Mom Stamp of Approval", I sighed a breath of relief. Why my mom's opinion of my hair matters to me is a mystery, but it does.
So today I took the plunge and got an official cut. Gone is the 80's rat's nest poofy bang, and enter the side swept bang. Though I don't think she cut it exactly as I envisioned. Then again, my hair is very different from the general public's hair, and it does its own thing, is far too baby fine, and is lacking a modula (the inner shaft of a hair follicle).
So I went to my hair stylist with THIS in mind:
But I came out looking like THIS:
True facts.
I am just hoping it is a learning curve, and once I learn to style my hair better, it will look better. At any rate, I am in the 21st century now. My luck the poof bang will be back in style just I am learning how to do this new do.
My hair has been a bone of contention for me for my whole life, and I am still not convinced I love it. It is taking some getting used to. Yesterday, when I got the ever important "Mom Stamp of Approval", I sighed a breath of relief. Why my mom's opinion of my hair matters to me is a mystery, but it does.
So today I took the plunge and got an official cut. Gone is the 80's rat's nest poofy bang, and enter the side swept bang. Though I don't think she cut it exactly as I envisioned. Then again, my hair is very different from the general public's hair, and it does its own thing, is far too baby fine, and is lacking a modula (the inner shaft of a hair follicle).
So I went to my hair stylist with THIS in mind:
But I came out looking like THIS:
I am just hoping it is a learning curve, and once I learn to style my hair better, it will look better. At any rate, I am in the 21st century now. My luck the poof bang will be back in style just I am learning how to do this new do.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
What I Did on My Vacation/Staycation
Time off from work is a glorious thing, and I finagled a whopping 3 weeks off from work this summer. Believe you me, I am cherishing every single second. Here is what I have done on my vacation:
- Spent quality time with quality friends
- Roller bladed
- Helped a few friends rake in a ton of dough
- Watched the sunset over Lake Superior (Michigan!)
- Saw the night sky with more stars than I have ever seen, including shooting stars (Michigan!)
- Stayed up late and then slept in.
- Read some good books (Handmaid's Tale!)
- Brushed the cats and got enough fur to make a million pillows (ya know, if I were to make pillows out of my cats' fur)
- Became laboriously addicted to Words With Friends
- Honed my vocabulary skills (see above number 9)
- Learned what "Jimp" meant (to jizz in your pants) from above #9
- Pined for things I do not have, but relished in what I do have.
- Took an entire day off from life by not answering my phone (it only rang once anyway),not talking to anyone (other than 4 words uttered to my cat), and having no responsibility.
- Went into a bat cave (Michigan). Well, kind of a bat cave, more like an old mine shaft.
- Gave thanks for good health (mine and others).
- Thought about work, but only fleetingly
- Walked the beach of Lake Superior, both in Duluth and in Michigan
- Hiked the dogs nearly every day (except on my day off from life day).
- Went frog catching (but stopped after scaring the poor little critters so did not catch one)
- Got eaten alive by mosquitoes.
- Had an adventure for my tummy in which I tried Tofu and Mock Duck.
 |
A beautiful sunset on Lake Superior   |
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Whitewater Paddling
Today was an adventure equivalent, in my mind, to cascading over Niagara Falls in a barrel. Only, it consisted of me paddling what I have termed "a safety boat" down the "forgiving" St. Louis River. The so called safety boat is an inflatable one person canoe ("Ducky" is the more technical term). I have been down this river once before, but never on the mercy of my own power. The last time was a team effort in an inflatable raft. Truth be told, I didn't pull my own weight on that excursion.
However, this time was all me. Well, all me, with the verbal instruction of the best teacher a novice whitewater paddler could have! As I struggled to get the feel of how the Ducky maneuvered, Beth and her trusty sidekick, Kevin, kayaked beside me talking me through each step of the way.
We started out slow and easy. Paddle like this, and the boat goes like that. Paddle like that, and the boat goes like this. OK, easy breezy.
Then, we happen upon the first set of rapids (I believe called "Classroom"). My heart palpitated just a bit as I paddled through the bubbling forces beneath me. A sense of exhilaration once I reached the calmer water.
With each section of rapids, the water gets bigger! Faster! Louder! We reach the rapids known as "One Hole", my new enemy. As we approached the forceful water, waves swirling every which way, my heart again felt the anticipation of beating the rapids. Only this time the rapids beat me.
I felt my boat turning into the swirling waves, and was oblivious to know to take control and attempt to get my boat straight again. It was like slow motion in real time. I saw the swirling, brown wave coming at me, and I knew it was not good. My fight or flight response went to "flight" and I quit paddling, an error that led to my first swim in the big drink.
Before I went under, I remember yelling "Help" and I looked at my friend and instructor whose face foretold my fate.
I got flipped into the hole.
The Ducky hit the "eject" button and catapulted me into the River. Then my "fight" response kicked in and a million thoughts went through my head. I remained calm. I remembered I had a life jacket on (Thank God and Beth) and let myself rise to the top and go where ever the raging water was going to take me. I popped up, saw Beth and swam to her kayak while her husband rescued the empty boat and and paddle. I hopped back into my safety boat for more raging rapids ahead.
Because I got flipped, each set of rapids brought about a sense of fear, but also excitement. I was determined to make it through each time without being tossed into the water. We did portage over a set of rapids called "Electric Ledge" which is a mini waterfall in my eyes. Looking back at that massive force of water, I was so glad we did not go down those rapids. However, a small part, a very small part, of me was also disappointed because I wanted to defeat them! Maybe next time. Maybe.
When we successfully made it though the final set of rapids, I breathed a sigh of relief. Relief, Pride, and admittedly, Disappointment that the fun and excitement was over. But, I made it! I made it down the Louis! And I only went for a swim once, which isn't too bad. Beth tells me the St. Louis was a Class 3 river today. I might be more of a Class 1 or 2 kind of a gal, but I can certainly see why so many people have a passion for kayaking.
Sadly, there are no pictures from today's adventure (the photos posted are "borrowed"), but the images and memories will forever be in my head. And I hope to get out and paddle again sometime in the near future.
Thanks Beth and Kevin for one on my most favorite adventures!
However, this time was all me. Well, all me, with the verbal instruction of the best teacher a novice whitewater paddler could have! As I struggled to get the feel of how the Ducky maneuvered, Beth and her trusty sidekick, Kevin, kayaked beside me talking me through each step of the way.
We started out slow and easy. Paddle like this, and the boat goes like that. Paddle like that, and the boat goes like this. OK, easy breezy.
Then, we happen upon the first set of rapids (I believe called "Classroom"). My heart palpitated just a bit as I paddled through the bubbling forces beneath me. A sense of exhilaration once I reached the calmer water.
With each section of rapids, the water gets bigger! Faster! Louder! We reach the rapids known as "One Hole", my new enemy. As we approached the forceful water, waves swirling every which way, my heart again felt the anticipation of beating the rapids. Only this time the rapids beat me.
I felt my boat turning into the swirling waves, and was oblivious to know to take control and attempt to get my boat straight again. It was like slow motion in real time. I saw the swirling, brown wave coming at me, and I knew it was not good. My fight or flight response went to "flight" and I quit paddling, an error that led to my first swim in the big drink.
Before I went under, I remember yelling "Help" and I looked at my friend and instructor whose face foretold my fate.
I got flipped into the hole.
 |
| Not the exact hole I fell into, but you get the drift..... |
Because I got flipped, each set of rapids brought about a sense of fear, but also excitement. I was determined to make it through each time without being tossed into the water. We did portage over a set of rapids called "Electric Ledge" which is a mini waterfall in my eyes. Looking back at that massive force of water, I was so glad we did not go down those rapids. However, a small part, a very small part, of me was also disappointed because I wanted to defeat them! Maybe next time. Maybe.
When we successfully made it though the final set of rapids, I breathed a sigh of relief. Relief, Pride, and admittedly, Disappointment that the fun and excitement was over. But, I made it! I made it down the Louis! And I only went for a swim once, which isn't too bad. Beth tells me the St. Louis was a Class 3 river today. I might be more of a Class 1 or 2 kind of a gal, but I can certainly see why so many people have a passion for kayaking.
Sadly, there are no pictures from today's adventure (the photos posted are "borrowed"), but the images and memories will forever be in my head. And I hope to get out and paddle again sometime in the near future.
Thanks Beth and Kevin for one on my most favorite adventures!
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Learning to Trust
Until recently, I never understood it when I heard people say, "God spoke to me" or "God told me.....". On an emotional night a few weeks ago, I turned to my journal as a means to sort out my emotions and thoughts on the world. This particular night, I was journaling and praying. I'm not a super religious person, but I do consider myself quite spiritual. I have had one way conversations with God, and I do pray and count my blessings most every night.
After I was done journaling on this evening, I revisited some old journal entries which sometimes brings about a greater understanding of what I am experiencing at the moment. I came across an entry from February of 2010. I was reflecting on the past year (2009) and I wrote:
After I was done journaling on this evening, I revisited some old journal entries which sometimes brings about a greater understanding of what I am experiencing at the moment. I came across an entry from February of 2010. I was reflecting on the past year (2009) and I wrote:
"2009 was the year I learned to trust.....Trust in life, trust in God."
Upon reading this, I immediately felt a sense of peace that what I was fretting over was going to be OK. With this new found sense of contentment, I wiped away my tears, smiled, and surrendered to sleep.
It was a pretty profound moment which resurfaced with me today. And then I understood. God spoke to me. For the first time, He spoke to me. Or rather, for the first time, I heard Him. He spoke to me, through my own words, and reminded me again to Trust.
Trust.
Such a big word and an even bigger concept.
But a concept I think I understand.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Nature's Song
Music is not a part of my soul like it is with so many of my friends, and so much of the world. I dig music, alright; I just don't need it. More ingrained in my soul is the songs nature produces.
When I am out and about, I see so many people who are out in nature, but not really experiencing it. Ear buds plug out the beautiful sounds of birds singing, leaves rustling, and water trickling. When I am on the trails roller blading, skiing, walking, all without ear buds, I appreciate all the sounds nature has to offer. I listen and I hear. A part of me feels sad for those unfortunate folks who could be hearing the most beautiful music ever.
Waking up in the early morning to the sounds of birds happily chirping away is my favorite alarm clock. It brings an instant smile to my face no matter how early they awaken me.
Even the quiet stillness winter brings is magical. A blanket of freshly fallen snow produces a silent sound unlike any other. The sound of peace.
I breathe it all in and peace overcomes me as well.
When I am out and about, I see so many people who are out in nature, but not really experiencing it. Ear buds plug out the beautiful sounds of birds singing, leaves rustling, and water trickling. When I am on the trails roller blading, skiing, walking, all without ear buds, I appreciate all the sounds nature has to offer. I listen and I hear. A part of me feels sad for those unfortunate folks who could be hearing the most beautiful music ever.
Waking up in the early morning to the sounds of birds happily chirping away is my favorite alarm clock. It brings an instant smile to my face no matter how early they awaken me.
Even the quiet stillness winter brings is magical. A blanket of freshly fallen snow produces a silent sound unlike any other. The sound of peace.
I breathe it all in and peace overcomes me as well.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
My Disneyland
Before there was me, there was a family of five. My 3 brothers and my parents. This family took family vacations, had a family camper, and also owned a family cabin. By the time I came into the world, we no longer had that camper, the cabin, and for some reason, we stopped doing things as a family unit. Perhaps a fourth child added one too many children; perhaps our age differences were so vast that it made vacations too difficult; or perhaps by the time I joined the family, my parents were just too worn out. Whatever the case, I don't remember one time when the entire family loaded into the car and enjoyed a family outing of any kind.
My mom never drove and my dad worked odd hours (and drank whenever he wasn't working). My Auntie Dorie kind of became my second parent, and if we ever went on a mini vacation, it always included my mom, my aunt, my best friend and me. We spent many a weekend at local beaches, local fairs, and slightly out of town road trips.
Once I got a little older (around 10 or so), my brothers were in their mid to late teens. Like most teenagers, they didn't want to hang out with the family anyway. In fact they reveled in the thought of staying by themselves, having parties, blaring their music, drinking, and smoking pot all without the parents, and especially without their tattletale younger sister (it was often said that I was actually babysitting my brothers when all the siblings were left alone together).
But I digress, back to family vacations. Or lack there of. Like I said, family vacations did not exist in my household. Then the family vacation of all family vacations presented itself. It became a "family tradition" for about 5 years or so. Once a year before school started, my mom, dad, aunt, her boyfriend, my best friend, and me would load into the car for a weekend getaway. To Da Range. Most families take off and go to Disney World, Hollywood, or the Grand Canyon. Not my family. We went less than 2 hours north to the grand area known as The Range.
We stayed in a Holiday Inn in Virginia, MN. This wasn't any old Holiday Inn. This hotel had a mini golf course, ping pong table, arcade, and not to mention the pool and hot tub. My parents allowed me to bring my best friend so that I stayed out of their hair and had someone to interact with since all my brothers were at home getting high.
It may not have been Disneyland, but it was Disneyland in my eyes. And one of my few memories of my mom, my dad, and me having so much fun together.
My mom never drove and my dad worked odd hours (and drank whenever he wasn't working). My Auntie Dorie kind of became my second parent, and if we ever went on a mini vacation, it always included my mom, my aunt, my best friend and me. We spent many a weekend at local beaches, local fairs, and slightly out of town road trips.
Once I got a little older (around 10 or so), my brothers were in their mid to late teens. Like most teenagers, they didn't want to hang out with the family anyway. In fact they reveled in the thought of staying by themselves, having parties, blaring their music, drinking, and smoking pot all without the parents, and especially without their tattletale younger sister (it was often said that I was actually babysitting my brothers when all the siblings were left alone together).
But I digress, back to family vacations. Or lack there of. Like I said, family vacations did not exist in my household. Then the family vacation of all family vacations presented itself. It became a "family tradition" for about 5 years or so. Once a year before school started, my mom, dad, aunt, her boyfriend, my best friend, and me would load into the car for a weekend getaway. To Da Range. Most families take off and go to Disney World, Hollywood, or the Grand Canyon. Not my family. We went less than 2 hours north to the grand area known as The Range.
We stayed in a Holiday Inn in Virginia, MN. This wasn't any old Holiday Inn. This hotel had a mini golf course, ping pong table, arcade, and not to mention the pool and hot tub. My parents allowed me to bring my best friend so that I stayed out of their hair and had someone to interact with since all my brothers were at home getting high.
It may not have been Disneyland, but it was Disneyland in my eyes. And one of my few memories of my mom, my dad, and me having so much fun together.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
A Cat's Guide to Ruling the World (or at Least the Household)
I stole this idea from another blogger friend who blogged about her kids and their naughty adventures. I thought I'd extend it to my cats and their naughty adventures. Thanks for the idea and sorry about the plagiarising, Julie ;)
Hey, all you naughty kitty cats out there! Humans think that we are here to provide them companionship and love, but really we are here to make their lives as miserable as possible. The following are purrfect ideas to make your human as annoyed as possible.
1. If you are an outdoor feline, be sure to bring home lots of gross presents in the form of dead animals and rodents. For good fun bring home an injured, but not quite dead, mouse or bird. Then let it go in the house to watch your human really freak out. Chances are they will rescue that critter and you won't get to eat it for lunch, but watching your human scream and chase a flying bird or scurrying mouse around is quite comical. You also might get grounded to the house for a while, but usually its worth the funny antics.
2. Be sure to wake up your human throughout all hours of the night. Walking on their sleeping bodies, sitting on their heads, and meowing obnoxiously are the best ways to wake them up. Anytime after 2 AM is the ideal time for increased crabbiness. Other strategies may include knocking things off dressers, counters, or scratching on various objects within the room.
3. Make the biggest mess possible out of the litter provided to you in the litter box. The more litter you can scatter about, the better. If you can track it all the way into the bedroom, be sure to leave little pieces of litter in between your human's sheets. This is great fun!
4. Barfing. Try to barf as often as possible. The best way to achieve this is to overeat your food and then vomit it back up almost immediately. Or you can also lick and swallow your own fur to create little fur balls in your tummy. Both options will equally gross out your human. For best results, make that throaty "glub glub" right before barfing. For added effect, barfing on the carpeting will elicit more aggravation from your human. Few things are as fun as "glub glubbing" in the middle of the night and barfing on freshly washed bedding!
5. If you are an indoor cat, try to sneak out at every opportunity. Meow like crazy at the door and scratch near any exits. If the door opens, act like you don't care, but then bolt out once you see an out. Having your human chase you in hysterics is.......well, hysterical!
6. Every cat knows that the humans take the best seats in the house. Watch it carefully. When your human stands up, immediately lay down in the spot where they were just sitting. Chances are, if you arrange yourself in a super cute curled up position, your human will let you stay snuggled up. They will likely heat up another spot for you to steal once they stand up again. Pure bliss!
7. Leave your hair everywhere around the house. If your human is wearing black pants, make sure to rub up against them repeatedly. And, if you are lucky enough to still have your nails, be sure to claw on furniture as often as possible. If your human doesn't see you doing it, they will never know!
8. Just when your human gets comfortable, jump up onto that shelf full of breakable knick knacks. Pretend you don't hear them when they yell for you to get down. Those stupid humans don't realize we won't break anything. Its only when they try to physically remove us do things get knocked over and broken.
9. If your human wants to pick you up and pet you, act like you don't want to sit on their lap at that time. Wait until they are busy reading the paper or eating food and then demand to be pet. Lay on the paper so they have no choice but to see you and pet you.
10. In the ultimate act of annoying your human, be sure to walk where they are walking. If they are going down stairs, dart in front of them causing them to stumble. Its funny to watch their faces when they think they are going to fall. This comes with caution as your human could accidentally step on you or fall on you so be careful when trying this tactic.
By following these rules, you are certain to make your human's life full of funny adventures. Yes, we will rule the world someday! For now, we'll settle for ruling our houses.
Hey, all you naughty kitty cats out there! Humans think that we are here to provide them companionship and love, but really we are here to make their lives as miserable as possible. The following are purrfect ideas to make your human as annoyed as possible.
1. If you are an outdoor feline, be sure to bring home lots of gross presents in the form of dead animals and rodents. For good fun bring home an injured, but not quite dead, mouse or bird. Then let it go in the house to watch your human really freak out. Chances are they will rescue that critter and you won't get to eat it for lunch, but watching your human scream and chase a flying bird or scurrying mouse around is quite comical. You also might get grounded to the house for a while, but usually its worth the funny antics.
2. Be sure to wake up your human throughout all hours of the night. Walking on their sleeping bodies, sitting on their heads, and meowing obnoxiously are the best ways to wake them up. Anytime after 2 AM is the ideal time for increased crabbiness. Other strategies may include knocking things off dressers, counters, or scratching on various objects within the room.
3. Make the biggest mess possible out of the litter provided to you in the litter box. The more litter you can scatter about, the better. If you can track it all the way into the bedroom, be sure to leave little pieces of litter in between your human's sheets. This is great fun!
4. Barfing. Try to barf as often as possible. The best way to achieve this is to overeat your food and then vomit it back up almost immediately. Or you can also lick and swallow your own fur to create little fur balls in your tummy. Both options will equally gross out your human. For best results, make that throaty "glub glub" right before barfing. For added effect, barfing on the carpeting will elicit more aggravation from your human. Few things are as fun as "glub glubbing" in the middle of the night and barfing on freshly washed bedding!
5. If you are an indoor cat, try to sneak out at every opportunity. Meow like crazy at the door and scratch near any exits. If the door opens, act like you don't care, but then bolt out once you see an out. Having your human chase you in hysterics is.......well, hysterical!
6. Every cat knows that the humans take the best seats in the house. Watch it carefully. When your human stands up, immediately lay down in the spot where they were just sitting. Chances are, if you arrange yourself in a super cute curled up position, your human will let you stay snuggled up. They will likely heat up another spot for you to steal once they stand up again. Pure bliss!
7. Leave your hair everywhere around the house. If your human is wearing black pants, make sure to rub up against them repeatedly. And, if you are lucky enough to still have your nails, be sure to claw on furniture as often as possible. If your human doesn't see you doing it, they will never know!
8. Just when your human gets comfortable, jump up onto that shelf full of breakable knick knacks. Pretend you don't hear them when they yell for you to get down. Those stupid humans don't realize we won't break anything. Its only when they try to physically remove us do things get knocked over and broken.
9. If your human wants to pick you up and pet you, act like you don't want to sit on their lap at that time. Wait until they are busy reading the paper or eating food and then demand to be pet. Lay on the paper so they have no choice but to see you and pet you.
10. In the ultimate act of annoying your human, be sure to walk where they are walking. If they are going down stairs, dart in front of them causing them to stumble. Its funny to watch their faces when they think they are going to fall. This comes with caution as your human could accidentally step on you or fall on you so be careful when trying this tactic.
By following these rules, you are certain to make your human's life full of funny adventures. Yes, we will rule the world someday! For now, we'll settle for ruling our houses.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
A Carnie By any Other Name
Every time this year a carnival comes to town. A rinky dink, traveling carnival complete with fast rides, expensive games, and carnies. Our city has a sordid history with carnies that led to the hanging of 3 innocent African Americans back when lynching was still commonplace.
The carnival also marks the first time I made a vulgar comment directly to an adult.
I was in 6th or 7th grade at the time. A friend and I were at the carnival by ourselves having a grand ole time on the rides and just walking around doing what pre-teens do. We happened upon the Tilt-A-Whirl. My friend wanted to ride and begged me to join her. I protested. Rides that move in a fast circular motion results in an upset tummy for me. Hell, even riding in the backseat of a moving car gets me a little queasy. So I declined her offer to accompany her on the Tilt-A-Whirl.
The ride operator heard our conversation and offered a proposition. This nice man said, if I waved to him when I felt a little ill, he would stop the ride.
What a nice guy! So, I hopped on aboard the Tilt-A-Whirl and was happily whirling around and around and around.
Then, my stomach started feeling a little unhappy.
On the next go 'round, I waved to the nice man to signal him that I was beginning to get sick in anticipation of him stopping the ride. Only he waved back as though he were waving at a long lost friend with a goofy smile upon his face.
Huh, this nice guy must have misunderstood my wave for a hello. So, I try again and flag him when I we go around him again.
He chuckles again, waves again, and made that damn ride twirl faster. And faster. And faster. And he kept us on longer than usual too. Just to see a young girl barf.
I wish I could have barfed because I would have let loose on his shoes, or better yet, in his face. But, the contents of my stomach stayed at bay. Instead, I got off the ride, looked at the laughing carnie and called him an Asshole.
Yes, an Asshole.
Not exactly the worst thing I could have said, but at the time, I thought I was shattering the child/adult barrier. And it left a big enough impact that I remember that moment every year when the carnies roll into town.
The carnival also marks the first time I made a vulgar comment directly to an adult.
I was in 6th or 7th grade at the time. A friend and I were at the carnival by ourselves having a grand ole time on the rides and just walking around doing what pre-teens do. We happened upon the Tilt-A-Whirl. My friend wanted to ride and begged me to join her. I protested. Rides that move in a fast circular motion results in an upset tummy for me. Hell, even riding in the backseat of a moving car gets me a little queasy. So I declined her offer to accompany her on the Tilt-A-Whirl.
The ride operator heard our conversation and offered a proposition. This nice man said, if I waved to him when I felt a little ill, he would stop the ride.
What a nice guy! So, I hopped on aboard the Tilt-A-Whirl and was happily whirling around and around and around.
Then, my stomach started feeling a little unhappy.
On the next go 'round, I waved to the nice man to signal him that I was beginning to get sick in anticipation of him stopping the ride. Only he waved back as though he were waving at a long lost friend with a goofy smile upon his face.
Huh, this nice guy must have misunderstood my wave for a hello. So, I try again and flag him when I we go around him again.
He chuckles again, waves again, and made that damn ride twirl faster. And faster. And faster. And he kept us on longer than usual too. Just to see a young girl barf.
I wish I could have barfed because I would have let loose on his shoes, or better yet, in his face. But, the contents of my stomach stayed at bay. Instead, I got off the ride, looked at the laughing carnie and called him an Asshole.
Yes, an Asshole.
Not exactly the worst thing I could have said, but at the time, I thought I was shattering the child/adult barrier. And it left a big enough impact that I remember that moment every year when the carnies roll into town.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Whispers
Oprah always said that if the Universe wants to teach you a lesson, it will start like little whispers in your ear. If you don't hear the whispers, the message becomes a bit stronger until eventually a tragedy happens. All along, you realize that, had you heard the whispers, you could have prevented that tragedy.
I think I'm hearing whispers.
For a while, I have thought about getting some mace or pepper spray. I am out on the trails, by myself, all. the. time. I roller blade solo. I hike solo. I go into the depths of thick forests where there are no houses nearby, and usually no people. Once in a while I think that I could get attacked by a sex crazed maniac. So far my back up plan is to begin to pick my nose and then eat it in attempts to disgust the perpetrator. My luck, he'd be turned on.
Even more than me getting attacked by people, there are all sorts of wild life that could attack as well. I have already come face to face with a bear, and watched as an angry deer chased a friend's dog (whispers?).
And beyond my own safety is the safety of my own dogs who have now been attacked by large dogs on more than one occasion (whisper?).
Last time I went out walking, another hiker mentioned she now carries pepper spray in order to combat angry dogs since her dog has been mauled by a pit bull (whisper?).
Then, as I am starting to write my blog, on pepper spray, a character on the TV show that happens to be on right now, mentioned "pepper spray" (whisper?).
So I have been hearing all sorts of whispers. I think its time to get me some pepper spray and hope I never have to use it. But at least I would be prepared just in case.
I think I'm hearing whispers.
For a while, I have thought about getting some mace or pepper spray. I am out on the trails, by myself, all. the. time. I roller blade solo. I hike solo. I go into the depths of thick forests where there are no houses nearby, and usually no people. Once in a while I think that I could get attacked by a sex crazed maniac. So far my back up plan is to begin to pick my nose and then eat it in attempts to disgust the perpetrator. My luck, he'd be turned on.
Even more than me getting attacked by people, there are all sorts of wild life that could attack as well. I have already come face to face with a bear, and watched as an angry deer chased a friend's dog (whispers?).
And beyond my own safety is the safety of my own dogs who have now been attacked by large dogs on more than one occasion (whisper?).
Last time I went out walking, another hiker mentioned she now carries pepper spray in order to combat angry dogs since her dog has been mauled by a pit bull (whisper?).
Then, as I am starting to write my blog, on pepper spray, a character on the TV show that happens to be on right now, mentioned "pepper spray" (whisper?).
So I have been hearing all sorts of whispers. I think its time to get me some pepper spray and hope I never have to use it. But at least I would be prepared just in case.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Saying I Love You
My family never utters those three words. Its always implied and we all know we are loved. We just never say "I love you" to one another. The closest we get is the "Love ya" salutations on greeting cards.
My Dad and I aren't super duper close, but we have always had a decent relationship. His alcoholism has always been the first priority in his life which prevents our relationship from growing any deeper. Ever since I moved out on my own, I get to see my dad mostly in his sober state which has been really nice.
Today is Father's Day so I called home from work to wish him a Happy Father's Day. Our conversation was brief, and by some random miracle, I ended our conversation with "I Love You".
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Caught off guard, my dad kind of chuckled, said "Thank you, Doll" and that is how our conversation ended. No "I love you, too". Just a chuckle and a thanks. But I opened the door for more "I love you's" to be spoken and maybe the next ones won't be quite so awkward.
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My Dad and I aren't super duper close, but we have always had a decent relationship. His alcoholism has always been the first priority in his life which prevents our relationship from growing any deeper. Ever since I moved out on my own, I get to see my dad mostly in his sober state which has been really nice.
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| Me and my daddy taking a bubble bath :) |
Caught off guard, my dad kind of chuckled, said "Thank you, Doll" and that is how our conversation ended. No "I love you, too". Just a chuckle and a thanks. But I opened the door for more "I love you's" to be spoken and maybe the next ones won't be quite so awkward.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
The Oldest Brother
John, eight years my senior, taught me all I needed to know when growing up with three older brothers. He taught me how to make the motorcycle and car noises with my mouth. He taught me what a hattrick was while playing floor hockey in our basement. (I think he enjoyed smacking me with the ball more than making a goal.) Most importantly, he taught me all the names of the members from the band KISS. He loved, and still does love, music. He thought it was pretty cool that I could name all the KISS members from his poster hanging up in his room.
He also taught me the correct usage for the term "Choice". When I landed in the hospital for an over night stay due to walking pneumonia, my mom and aunt brought me a stuffed Cookie Monster. Upon seeing it, I exclaimed, "Choice!" Apparently all the nurses thought that was the cutest thing out of a one year old's mouth.
John is known to be rude, crude, and not very politically correct. However, he has a deep respect for his immediate family so much so that he doesn't even smoke in front of his parents to this day. He sees it as a sign of disrespect. Out of all the brothers, I talk with John on the phone most often. He calls me for advice on raising his daughter, he calls to hear about family gossip, and he always always makes the annual Christmas call for advice on what he should get as gifts for our parents.
John has ebbed in and out from being favorite brother to being least favorite brother. Now, all my brothers are "my favorite" each for their unique individual qualities they bring to my family.
He also taught me the correct usage for the term "Choice". When I landed in the hospital for an over night stay due to walking pneumonia, my mom and aunt brought me a stuffed Cookie Monster. Upon seeing it, I exclaimed, "Choice!" Apparently all the nurses thought that was the cutest thing out of a one year old's mouth.
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| Looks like I have two peacocks coming out of my head :)~ |
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| My mom tells me I am pouting in this picture because I was not allowed cake until after the photo was taken. |
Saturday, June 11, 2011
The Middle Brother
Because there is such a gap between my brothers and me, I don't have a whole lot of memories that do not involve them giving me bruises. By the time I was old enough to have lasting memories, my brothers were all at the age where they were hanging with their friends and being a little more independant. For some reason, memories of Jim are hard to come by.
Jim is my middle brother, seven years older than me. Often cranky and mischievous, he filled the role of Middle Child perfectly. He demands that you walk on egg shells while in his presence even today. However, His quick temper is outshone by his quick wit. Jim is the family comedian and risk taker. Be it sending away for a ventriloquist dummy as a child to learning how to SCUBA dive as an adult, Jim is always up for the next challenge.
Jim served as the little devil on my shoulder. He encouraged me to bring out my devilish side on more than one occasion. Most of the time, the angel on the other shoulder won the fight. One time, though, Jim set up a fight between me and my neighborhood best friend. He wanted us to duke it out so egged us on until we ended up in a full blown fist fight. My neighbor went home in tears and I earned some brother bragging rights. Did I mention that the neighbor I sent home crying was a boy? My brothers sure were proud of me, but I couldn't say the same for myself.
My brothers and I used to always take baths together. You can see by Jim's little grin that he is likely withholding that blue toy thing from me probably trying to get me to cry. But as you can see, I was all smiles.
I wonder how old we were when we stopped taking baths together. At least my mom was nice enough to cover up the important parts for a photo.
Jim is my middle brother, seven years older than me. Often cranky and mischievous, he filled the role of Middle Child perfectly. He demands that you walk on egg shells while in his presence even today. However, His quick temper is outshone by his quick wit. Jim is the family comedian and risk taker. Be it sending away for a ventriloquist dummy as a child to learning how to SCUBA dive as an adult, Jim is always up for the next challenge.
Friday, June 10, 2011
The Youngest Brother
My last post gave me an idea to blog about each one of my brothers. I have favorite and not so favorite memories of each one of them. I Thought I'd take some rare photos featuring just that one brother and me while putting together a few lingering memories.
Bill is the youngest of the 3 brothers, but is six years older than me. When I was born, he was in Kindergarten and could not wait to get home to hold me. Believe it or not, The Brothers, as they were not so affectionately called, used to argue over who got to hold me. Since Billy was in half day Kindergarten, he was excited to come home and have me all to himself without having to share with the other two. This is one of my mom's favorite photos:
Once it was my turn for Kindergarten, Billy was in the 6th grade and in the same school as me. As a kid, I was a mommy's girl and did not want to go to school. In fact, I was a pre-school drop out because I would rather stay home with mommy. One day on the way to the car to go to pre-school, I fell and skinned my knee. Mom couldn't resist my bawling and let me stay home from pre-school from then on :)
My tears didn't work nearly as well once I got into the big leagues. Yes, I cried for 2 weeks straight in Kindergarten. It was my big brother's job to ensure I was doing OK on the bus ride to school. Not wanting to look like a sensitive brother, he decided to yell at me while I was sobbing on the bus. He called me a big baby which didn't help matters any. Like any little sister would, when I got home from school, I tattled on him! He got yelled at when he got home, alright. Mom told him he shouldn't yell at me, but he should comfort me instead.
The next day on the bus as I sat sobbing, my sweet brother took me upon his knee and began bouncing me as you would an infant. Well, I guess I was acting like an infant. Naturally, Mom asked me how the bus ride went, and naturally I told her that he bounced me on his knee. Poor boy got yelled at once again for treating me like a baby. Actually, he didn't get yelled at, per se, he just was informed that bouncing me wasn't necessary. He can never do anything right.
Don't tell the other brothers, but Bill was probably always my favorite. He is still the brother I am closest to, and he is the first one I run to when I need something fixed. He runs to me whenever he needs something too, which is usually money. He owes me the world right now which is why he would bed over backwards to help me however he can. He is by far the most sensitive brother and the least social of any of us. Life has been a constant struggle for him, though that is not to say he hasn't made some of those struggles for himself. I just want to see him content for once.
He once told his own daughter that he hopes she grows up to be like me. That was the best compliment any brother could ever say about his little sister.
Bill is the youngest of the 3 brothers, but is six years older than me. When I was born, he was in Kindergarten and could not wait to get home to hold me. Believe it or not, The Brothers, as they were not so affectionately called, used to argue over who got to hold me. Since Billy was in half day Kindergarten, he was excited to come home and have me all to himself without having to share with the other two. This is one of my mom's favorite photos:
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| Both babies were so tuckered out |
My tears didn't work nearly as well once I got into the big leagues. Yes, I cried for 2 weeks straight in Kindergarten. It was my big brother's job to ensure I was doing OK on the bus ride to school. Not wanting to look like a sensitive brother, he decided to yell at me while I was sobbing on the bus. He called me a big baby which didn't help matters any. Like any little sister would, when I got home from school, I tattled on him! He got yelled at when he got home, alright. Mom told him he shouldn't yell at me, but he should comfort me instead.
The next day on the bus as I sat sobbing, my sweet brother took me upon his knee and began bouncing me as you would an infant. Well, I guess I was acting like an infant. Naturally, Mom asked me how the bus ride went, and naturally I told her that he bounced me on his knee. Poor boy got yelled at once again for treating me like a baby. Actually, he didn't get yelled at, per se, he just was informed that bouncing me wasn't necessary. He can never do anything right.
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| Ready for my 9th Grade Dance. Complete with puffy shoulders, permed side pony tail, and acne. |
Thursday, June 9, 2011
A Child Called Dirt
Being the youngest, and only girl, in the family had its ups and downs. At first, I was cherished by my brothers. They fought over who got to hold me and play with me. As I got a bit older, they soon figured out I was more of a pest than a treasure. They were not very nice to me most of the time, and I had a variety of nicknames.
The nickname that lasted that longest and had the biggest impact was "Dirt Bag". So named for having dirty feet after playing outside barefooted. For several years, my name was "Dirt". Yes, even my nickname had its own nickname. When friends called for me on the phone, my brothers would summon me to the phone by calling out "Dirt! Phone!" As much as I tried to ignore them when they called me that name, getting a phone call was about the most exciting thing for a preteen girl. Naturally, I had to respond.
Before too long, all of my brothers' friends referred to me as "Dirt Bag". Even my own dad was known to call me "Dirt" once or twice. For a while, I wasn't even sure my brothers knew what my given name was, and after a while longer, I just answered to whatever they called me. "Dirt" or "Redneck" were the two most popular and longest lasting nicknames.
The power of my "Dirt Bag" nickname hit me when I went to visit one of my brother's friends who had been in an accident resulting in a Traumatic Brain Injury. He was confused and disorganized requiring a one to one staff just for him. When I first saw him and said hello, he immediately responded, "Dirt Bag? HI!" The nurse looked at me like he was really messed up, but I assured her that he knew exactly what he was talking about. And exactly who I was.
My brothers continued to call me horrible names until they started to need me. Pretty soon, they started calling me "My Favorite Sister" when they wanted a babysitter for their children or money for themselves. "Hi, My Favorite Sister. Do you have 20 bucks I could borrow?"
It was a long road from "Dirt Bag" to "Favorite Sister", but I am very glad I outgrew my childhood nickname.
The nickname that lasted that longest and had the biggest impact was "Dirt Bag". So named for having dirty feet after playing outside barefooted. For several years, my name was "Dirt". Yes, even my nickname had its own nickname. When friends called for me on the phone, my brothers would summon me to the phone by calling out "Dirt! Phone!" As much as I tried to ignore them when they called me that name, getting a phone call was about the most exciting thing for a preteen girl. Naturally, I had to respond.
Before too long, all of my brothers' friends referred to me as "Dirt Bag". Even my own dad was known to call me "Dirt" once or twice. For a while, I wasn't even sure my brothers knew what my given name was, and after a while longer, I just answered to whatever they called me. "Dirt" or "Redneck" were the two most popular and longest lasting nicknames.
The power of my "Dirt Bag" nickname hit me when I went to visit one of my brother's friends who had been in an accident resulting in a Traumatic Brain Injury. He was confused and disorganized requiring a one to one staff just for him. When I first saw him and said hello, he immediately responded, "Dirt Bag? HI!" The nurse looked at me like he was really messed up, but I assured her that he knew exactly what he was talking about. And exactly who I was.
My brothers continued to call me horrible names until they started to need me. Pretty soon, they started calling me "My Favorite Sister" when they wanted a babysitter for their children or money for themselves. "Hi, My Favorite Sister. Do you have 20 bucks I could borrow?"
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Tooting My Own Horn
Not often do I write much about my job, but today I am going to. After a potentially horrible night last night, I left work feeling amazingly refreshed and validated.
First, for some background. The night before last night was hell. I wasn't there, but the report on all the kids was not good. There was a yelling match in the hall that could have let to a fist fight. There was a seclusion and there were 2 episodes of restraining kids. One of whom stayed in restraints throughout the entire night. Beyond that, the potential of several of the other kids to "go off" is quite high as well.
So report, where we get our assignments for the evening, was stressful and uncertain. We were starting out our shift being two staff short and another staff working only from 3-7 and this staff had never even worked on our floor before, so basically we were 3 staff short. Our charge nurse was in charge of the whole unit, passed out medications, was answering phones, and would have had to deal with any admits had we not been able to divert them elsewhere. Two other coworkers were assigned 1:1 patients so their primary duty was making sure their patients stayed in control. That left me with the daunting task of making sure the evening programming and patient care went as smoothly as possible.
In addition to that, I had 4 patients assigned to me, but it really was more like 7 since the other staff left at 7:00. This was a heavy load even on a regular day, but this is my assignment on a double. Actually it was my eighth shift in only five days. The night could not have gone more smoothly. Teamwork was a must, and its nights like this that I appreciate every single person I work with. The kids were pretty decent overall and groups went without a hitch. I must say that throwing in a movie out of laziness and using the excuse of being short staffed did cross my mind, but I didn't even do that. In fact, I did a group involving scissors which is always a gamble when working with teens who cut.
By the end of the night I felt good about my group topic (anxiety/panic attacks), my group project (collage), and my patience when dealing with all of the soul sucking kids we have on the unit right now.
Then the coolest thing happened.
At the end of the night, the teenagers said some very validating things to me. One said, "You know what I like about it here? I like that we feel cared about".
Another said, "Yeah, and how do you work so much and still stay perky and happy? How come you aren't crabby?"
And another said, "You work a lot. You must like your job if you are here so much".
It was so validating that the very people I work so hard for took notice. Not always do the patients take notice of how much I really do enjoy it. Its nights like this that I remember why I do what I do and it makes one whole week of hell all worth it.
First, for some background. The night before last night was hell. I wasn't there, but the report on all the kids was not good. There was a yelling match in the hall that could have let to a fist fight. There was a seclusion and there were 2 episodes of restraining kids. One of whom stayed in restraints throughout the entire night. Beyond that, the potential of several of the other kids to "go off" is quite high as well.
So report, where we get our assignments for the evening, was stressful and uncertain. We were starting out our shift being two staff short and another staff working only from 3-7 and this staff had never even worked on our floor before, so basically we were 3 staff short. Our charge nurse was in charge of the whole unit, passed out medications, was answering phones, and would have had to deal with any admits had we not been able to divert them elsewhere. Two other coworkers were assigned 1:1 patients so their primary duty was making sure their patients stayed in control. That left me with the daunting task of making sure the evening programming and patient care went as smoothly as possible.
In addition to that, I had 4 patients assigned to me, but it really was more like 7 since the other staff left at 7:00. This was a heavy load even on a regular day, but this is my assignment on a double. Actually it was my eighth shift in only five days. The night could not have gone more smoothly. Teamwork was a must, and its nights like this that I appreciate every single person I work with. The kids were pretty decent overall and groups went without a hitch. I must say that throwing in a movie out of laziness and using the excuse of being short staffed did cross my mind, but I didn't even do that. In fact, I did a group involving scissors which is always a gamble when working with teens who cut.
By the end of the night I felt good about my group topic (anxiety/panic attacks), my group project (collage), and my patience when dealing with all of the soul sucking kids we have on the unit right now.
Then the coolest thing happened.
At the end of the night, the teenagers said some very validating things to me. One said, "You know what I like about it here? I like that we feel cared about".
Another said, "Yeah, and how do you work so much and still stay perky and happy? How come you aren't crabby?"
And another said, "You work a lot. You must like your job if you are here so much".
It was so validating that the very people I work so hard for took notice. Not always do the patients take notice of how much I really do enjoy it. Its nights like this that I remember why I do what I do and it makes one whole week of hell all worth it.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Not-So-Eensie-Weensie-Spider
When throwing my laundry in the washing machine today, a large basement spider revealed himself to me on the top of the heaping pile of dirty clothes inside the machine.
I could have rescued him.
And normally I don't take to killing things, even ugly spiders. You know that scene in "The Secret Life of Bees" where May puts a trail of marshmallows for the spiders (or maybe they were cockroaches?) to make their way safely out the door?
Yeah, that could be me.
Only it wasn't.
Instead, I quickly turned on the warm water, added detergent, and even added bleach in attempts to poison the poor critter. I laundered that little fella. Hopefully it does him in and his poor spider parts get shredded apart to be drained away during the spin cycle.
Otherwise I will be wearing the remains of an innocent spider inside my underwear.
I could have rescued him.
And normally I don't take to killing things, even ugly spiders. You know that scene in "The Secret Life of Bees" where May puts a trail of marshmallows for the spiders (or maybe they were cockroaches?) to make their way safely out the door?
Yeah, that could be me.
Only it wasn't.
Instead, I quickly turned on the warm water, added detergent, and even added bleach in attempts to poison the poor critter. I laundered that little fella. Hopefully it does him in and his poor spider parts get shredded apart to be drained away during the spin cycle.
Otherwise I will be wearing the remains of an innocent spider inside my underwear.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Dreaded Responsibility
I totally should have went to work today, on this, my day off. My day off which also happens to be Memorial Day. Memorial Day which happens to be holiday pay at work (double time and a half!), and which also happens to be crappy weather. Rainy, foggy, cold, and windy. Work called me on two occasions to go into work today and I avoided their phone calls both times despite the fact that I was on the call-in list.
Instead, I went to bed last night at 9 PM and woke up this morning after 9 AM. Actually I awoke much earlier, but once I heard the thunder, saw the wind and rain, I snuggled up more snugly in my bed and went back to sleep until I don't know when. I used to be a morning person, but lately, I am becoming more of a later morning person.
Once I awoke, that is, once I physically got out of bed, I ventured into the living room and turned on the TV where I sat for another few hours. Snuggled in with my bathrobe and pink blankie. Old movies from the 80's prove to be the perfect rainy day past time.
After I actually combed my hair and got dressed, (and by "dressed" I mean in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Putting on a bra was questionable, but on it went), I drove to my mom's where I ate a nice Memorial Day lunch and beat her in 3 out of 4 games of Scrabble.
All the while with visions of dollar signs
going
down
the drain
inside my head.
All the while with guilty feelings as the "not-doing-anything-on-my-day-off" syndrome kicks in.
All the while dreading returning to work tomorrow.
Still, laying in bed listening to the thunder and rain with Tino snuggled up underneath the covers is worth every down the drain dollar sign. In fact, I loved it so much, I wish that I could do it again tomorrow. Enter that big adult word of Responsibility. Already this year I have used up more sick days than in my entire 13 year career at this job. And its not even June. So calling in is kind of out of the question as I would just sit home, do nothing, and worry about having called in. So in to work I will go.
Sometimes I hate responsibility.
Instead, I went to bed last night at 9 PM and woke up this morning after 9 AM. Actually I awoke much earlier, but once I heard the thunder, saw the wind and rain, I snuggled up more snugly in my bed and went back to sleep until I don't know when. I used to be a morning person, but lately, I am becoming more of a later morning person.
Once I awoke, that is, once I physically got out of bed, I ventured into the living room and turned on the TV where I sat for another few hours. Snuggled in with my bathrobe and pink blankie. Old movies from the 80's prove to be the perfect rainy day past time.
After I actually combed my hair and got dressed, (and by "dressed" I mean in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Putting on a bra was questionable, but on it went), I drove to my mom's where I ate a nice Memorial Day lunch and beat her in 3 out of 4 games of Scrabble.
All the while with visions of dollar signs
going
down
the drain
inside my head.
All the while with guilty feelings as the "not-doing-anything-on-my-day-off" syndrome kicks in.
All the while dreading returning to work tomorrow.
Still, laying in bed listening to the thunder and rain with Tino snuggled up underneath the covers is worth every down the drain dollar sign. In fact, I loved it so much, I wish that I could do it again tomorrow. Enter that big adult word of Responsibility. Already this year I have used up more sick days than in my entire 13 year career at this job. And its not even June. So calling in is kind of out of the question as I would just sit home, do nothing, and worry about having called in. So in to work I will go.
Sometimes I hate responsibility.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Secret Things I Really Want to do, but Probably Never Will.....
There are some things in life that I would really like to try, but chances are I will never get the skill or the opportunity for most of them.
1). I want to draw. My whole life, I have been so amazed and a little jealous by those who can draw. People say I would be able to draw, too, if only I practiced. I disagree. Now that I am older, I think my drawing skills are impossible. Kind of like language. Use it or lose it, and I lost it long ago. A kid at work once gave me a step by step drawing manual for how-to-draw-a-stick-figure. My drawing skills have advanced since then to this:
So, yeah, to be able to draw a little more sophisticated would be nice.
2). I don't believe in having exotic animals as household pets, but I think it would be snazzy to meet that animal guy who makes appearances on all the talk shows, Jack Hannah. He'd let me pet a wild cat or hold a baby monkey. You know, one that won't tear my face apart. To feed any wild baby animal a bottle would be the cat's meow.
3). After watching Wipeout on TV, I have decided that I would like to try a Wipeout course. Not a televised version, but one that I could do so that millions of people don't see me making a fool of myself. Not sure why exactly I want to attempt something that has people doing unplanned back bends where their feet touch their heads, but I think giving it a try would be fun. Of course, I'd have to plug my nose whenever I got thrown into the the drink. Plus, it would be fun to say I survived the Big Balls.
4). Dancing. I secretly want to be on Dancing With the Stars. Only I am not a star so that remains a problem. I'd love to learn how to ballroom dance and shake what my mama gave me (which isn't much, or rather which is TOO much). Sure there are local classes that teach this stuff, but I don't have a partner to learn it with. Plus, my hands don't like to move at the same time as my feet so dancing is a huge challenge for me. I'd need a very patient tolerant teacher who could put up with my whining and moaning.
5). This is the one item on my list that could potentially become a reality. Acting. One of my favorite things to do is go to plays at our local Playhouse. Each play is outstanding and inevitably I leave there with such a lighter spirit that it inspires me to want to be a part of that feeling. Nothing in the spotlight, but just as an extra in the cast would be about the coolest thing. A small company dance number, a small company singing number, bows at the end of the performance, applause, the whole shebang. Hey, if I did a dance number IN the play, I'd kind of achieve my dancing wish as well.
When I make my first appearance on the stage, I'll let ya know.
1). I want to draw. My whole life, I have been so amazed and a little jealous by those who can draw. People say I would be able to draw, too, if only I practiced. I disagree. Now that I am older, I think my drawing skills are impossible. Kind of like language. Use it or lose it, and I lost it long ago. A kid at work once gave me a step by step drawing manual for how-to-draw-a-stick-figure. My drawing skills have advanced since then to this:
2). I don't believe in having exotic animals as household pets, but I think it would be snazzy to meet that animal guy who makes appearances on all the talk shows, Jack Hannah. He'd let me pet a wild cat or hold a baby monkey. You know, one that won't tear my face apart. To feed any wild baby animal a bottle would be the cat's meow.
3). After watching Wipeout on TV, I have decided that I would like to try a Wipeout course. Not a televised version, but one that I could do so that millions of people don't see me making a fool of myself. Not sure why exactly I want to attempt something that has people doing unplanned back bends where their feet touch their heads, but I think giving it a try would be fun. Of course, I'd have to plug my nose whenever I got thrown into the the drink. Plus, it would be fun to say I survived the Big Balls.
4). Dancing. I secretly want to be on Dancing With the Stars. Only I am not a star so that remains a problem. I'd love to learn how to ballroom dance and shake what my mama gave me (which isn't much, or rather which is TOO much). Sure there are local classes that teach this stuff, but I don't have a partner to learn it with. Plus, my hands don't like to move at the same time as my feet so dancing is a huge challenge for me. I'd need a very patient tolerant teacher who could put up with my whining and moaning.
5). This is the one item on my list that could potentially become a reality. Acting. One of my favorite things to do is go to plays at our local Playhouse. Each play is outstanding and inevitably I leave there with such a lighter spirit that it inspires me to want to be a part of that feeling. Nothing in the spotlight, but just as an extra in the cast would be about the coolest thing. A small company dance number, a small company singing number, bows at the end of the performance, applause, the whole shebang. Hey, if I did a dance number IN the play, I'd kind of achieve my dancing wish as well.
When I make my first appearance on the stage, I'll let ya know.
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