Saturday, March 31, 2007

A House Is Not a Home Until People Pass Out In It

Thursday night was the big Housewarming party. I went to a lot of trouble in preparations. I provided burgers, dogs, buns, and a shit ton of beer. I have a shit ton of beer left. What the hell am I going to do with a shit ton of beer?? There's only so much beer I can put on my hair to make it soft and shiny.

Surely I can find a home for a case of Bud Lite. Will trade for Dr. Pepper!!

I told people to bring side dish, dessert, or some other beverage in the event they didn't like beer. Most people like beer, which is why I provided it. I wanted to be a good hostess and be accommodating. So, when I went to the store before the party to buy said beverages, naturally the elderly couple standing in front of me at the checkout were Mormon missionaries from Utah. They glanced back at my cart, eyeing my contents.

Lite Beer
Wheat Beer
Fruit Salad
Frozen fish sticks
Blue Curacao
Diet Dr. Pepper (free with coupon!)
fingernail file

I could tell by the look on their faces that they were sizing me up as a Midwestern Lush and were debating whether to hand me a Book of Mormon or not.

So, party time arrives and so do people. Fortunately, it stopped raining for my party so we were able to grill out. Everyone brought food, and there was TONS of food. More on that later.

Party winds down so there is only a handful of night shift nurses there. Someone notices the unopened bottle of tequila and thinks shots are a fine idea. After half the bottle is consumed, music is played and said nurses decide to dance in my living room. And the window shade was open.

I'm pretty convinced I've been branded the neighborhood lesbian. As if my dating life sucked before...I'm never going to land another date until I'm in a nursing home and the only guy who is interested is senile...and impotent. His only attraction to me will be my big hooters...which will be hanging down to my knees by then.

Eventually, the rest of the tequila bottle is drained, and three of us remain. I hide the keys of one who is entertaining the thought of driving home. She passes out on the couch. Red and I sit on the back deck and lament at how lame relationships are before she adjourns to the spare room, and me to my room.

I'm pretty sure I called Paul's house, but I don't know what sort of message I left.

Then, I proceed to vomit with the force of a F-16. Feeling better about life, I went to bed.

The next morning, I tried the throw up my pancreas, but all that came out was stomach bile and water. That taste was hideous, so then I was just tossing air. I was clinging to the toilet lid for support because when I throw up, I put my whole body into it...which is why I would never make a good bulimic.

Still in good hostess mode, I went downstairs and made my guests each a breakfast sandwich (I washed my hands first). They went home, and I went back upstairs and threw up the breakfast sandwich. By this time, I have popped all kinds of little blood vessels in and around my eyes and I look like someone has beat me in the face. Life isn't so great anymore, so I fall asleep by the toilet.

So, I've been going between extreme nausea, and extreme vomiting all day. Remember all that food my guests brought? Well, they left it all here. Whenever I would open the fridge for a Sprite or some Gatorade, the sights and smells would hit me, and off to the bathroom I would go.

Serves me right, I know.

I'm never, ever, ever going to touch tequila again. The mere thought of it makes me want to go visit my porcelain best friend. My stomach has a memory, so if someone tries to give me a drink with tequila in assured they are going to be barfed on.

Next time I have a gathering, I'm drinking Crystal water.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

A Conversation on Elections

Paul: Your new mayor is rather ugly.
Me: Oh, so Funkhouser won?
Paul: I bet he's tall. He looks like he would be tall.
Me: (singing) We want the Funk!
Paul: Oohh...that McFadden Weaver lost big.
Me: Because she's corrupt.
Paul: What?
Me: She's crooked.
Paul: She looks pretty round to me.

Nurse Follies: Scheduling

On my floor, we practice the fine and rare art of self-scheduling. What this means, is that a blank draft schedule gets posted on the bulletin board and each staff member has almost two weeks to fill in which shifts they want to work. All nurses are required to work at least two weekend shifts within a four week schedule period. Most nurses are good about adhering to this requirement. However, there are some nurses who feel that going out and partying every weekend takes priority and simply will not willingly sign up for any weekend shift. This is where I come in.

Myself, along with another nurse whom I dub Red, do the scheduling for nights. What this means, is that after the two weeks are up and everyone has signed up for their shifts, Red and I sit down with the schedule and try to balance it out. When we have enough staff, it's cake. When we are working with a skeleton crew because everyone has hit burnout and quit, working on the schedule becomes as desirable as a root canal, and it take much longer. You will have one day where twelve nurses sign up to work, then only two nurses for the following day.

There are certain variables that come into play when we create the master schedule. Vacation time, request days off, specialized training, and skill level. Approved paid time off gets priority because that is handed down from the bosshole. Request days off are simply a way of saying, "I would really like to have this day off, but I don't want to use up my PTO. So, could you really not put me down to work on this day, mmkay?"

The understood rule is that while we try to honor the requests off, there is a risk of being moved to that shift if there is no other alternative. The second understood rule is that while we will also try to keep a nurse on the shifts she/he signs up for, they will be moved if it is needed...but only as a last resort. However, to make it fair, we make a list and keep track of who has been moved. That way, no one nurse is moved more than another.

This is why self-scheduling is a rare art. People are inevitably going bitch, and no one wants to listen to it. Every. Single. Month.

But I am an asshole (Red is coming along nicely in her asshole training), and I really don't care if people bitch about their schedules or not....which might be why I got the job of doing scheduling in the first place.

Usually, things work out so much that no one has really complained. Most all the nurses on nights are pretty grown-up about how scheduling works. In the land of hospital nursing, you work weekends, you work holidays, and sometimes, you work during your kid's Little League game. This is the sacrifice of being a nurse. If you want a normal 9-5 job, go to a doctor's office...a boring, quiet, doctor's office.

But as you know, there is, and always will be, one bad apple to upset the cart. Bad apples piss me off. They work hard to undermine the peaceful balance the rest of the apples have worked hard to establish.

Since she was hired, it seems that every month she complains to the bosshole if we move her just once. If her schedule isn't exactly what signs up for, she goes apeshit. She once trapped me in the clean supply room so she could complain about it without the risk of me running away. Even after Red and I both insist other nurses are moved equally, Bad Apple still persists in her effort to show that we are persecuting her by not giving her the days she wants. After a while, this gets pretty old, especially after the bosshole emails us each month about it, wanting a comment. We're not going to give her a set schedule, because it wouldn't be fair to the other nurses who have to work all the other shifts Bad Apple doesn't want.

Most times, I feel like telling her, "You don't like it, call in sick because you always call in sick whenever you don't want to work and you have to crappiest attendance record to show for it. If your job is that much of an inconvenience to your personal life, I suggest you go find a different job. One that allows you ten smoke breaks and a nap each shift because that's what you do when you're here anyway..."

Good help = hard to find.

So, I'm starting to get annoyed with all the bullshit. I wish the bosshole would grow a pair and tell her to quit whining. He should because when I tell her, he's going to have to listen to her complain about that, in addition to the scheduling issues. So, it's in his best interest to tell her to shut her cakehole.

But in a professional, managerial sort of way, of course.

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

32! 32! 32! 32!

I can't recollect the one time I had my face buried in another woman's hoo-hah. I probably can't recollect because it was 32 years ago today, and that other woman was my mother.

She was giving birth to me...for those of you who were starting to get excited.
Today was like any other day.
Somehow, a rumor got started that I don't ever like making a fuss or anything on my birthday. Since then, I've been lucky to get a card. On my 30th birthday, Paul (not dating!) built me a favorite of yellow cake with chocolate frosting. I didn't know what to make of it...but the cake was pretty damn tasty.
I think this rumor is the direct result of someone not wanting to buy me a present...or give me cake. Bastards.
So anyway, in honor of my birthday, I took a nap. Then, I watered the lawn, grilled a pork chop, painted my nails, and had some cake batter ice cream. It's not a real cake, but good enough.
However, I'm open to belated birthday celebrations if anyone has any ideas.

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Extreme Makeover: Dumbass Edition

Would I be the only person in the northern hemisphere to think that ABC is ran by a bunch of retards?

Like most everyone else in KC, I was glad to see the EM crew go away. I was tired of hearing about it. Really. You'd be watching TV when late breaking news would cut into whatever show you were watching, to announce that Ty Pennington installed the bathtub. OHMYGOD! Ty Pennington installed a bathtub...RIGHT HERE IN KANSAS CITY!!!!

So, we have a family that would more than likely meet the criteria for what would constitute "poverty level" considering their size. They are also caring for a truck full of other children who belong to a relative who for whatever reasons I'd be curious to know, has lost custody of said children. I can commend the family for stepping up to the plate to take the kids in. Most people, if faced with that same situation, would do likewise. I'd do the same for my brother's kids...after I beat my brother for being a moron, and bad father.

Dad works a blue collar job...overworked and underpaid, I'm sure. Mom stays at home and cares for 12-person household. They live in a house that is 900 square feet (the average size of most apartments). It's probably safe to say that size of the house, while problematic, was probably not the most pressing matter in their lives. Twelve people on one income, and more than likely some government assistance tossed in.

So, here comes ABC with their trucks and video cameras. The family is sent away to some vacation in Florida...all expenses paid. The house is demolished, a 5,000 square foot house thrown up in it's place. It's fully loaded with all new crap, electronics, furniture, and a shit-ton of stuff that most normal people don't have in their own homes.

Oh yeah...a brand new Mustang, Expedition, and pick-up truck sit in the driveway. We've gone from humble to gluttony in the matter of 96 hours.

Now, here is the part that baffles me.

Nothing has really changed with the family dynamic. Still one income that hasn't changed, still 12 people living off it. While the most ugliest new house I've ever seen is nice, big, shiny and everyone has space to spare, the big problem...the one problem that I am sure everyone has overlooked is that this family is now going to have to pay taxes and maintenance on all of this. House, cars, vacation. More money involved in maintaining this new lifestyle. I'm pretty sure there's a big difference in the gas bill between a 900 square foot house and a 5,000 square foot house.

I'm certain that ABC will step in and pay for it, just the way Oprah paid the taxes on all those cars she "gave" away. Oh wait...she didn't.

Now, I'm reading that donations are being solicited so the family can keep this house. Are you kidding me?!? Thousands have already been collected. Call me an asshole, but I'm not going to be whipping out my checkbook anytime soon. ABC created this monster, they should be the ones who exclusively deal with it. In the long run, it seems to me that they might have made this family's life worse instead of better. Instead of maybe teaching the family a better way to fish, ABC just gave them a brand new frying pan, no pole, no instructions on how to catch fish, plus a short deadline as to when they had to have dinner ready for Uncle Sam.

Eventually, people are going to stop donating when they have to tighten their own budgets, and really can't see why they should pay for someone elses house when their own house is at risk of being foreclosed upon. When this happens, and there is no more money coming in, the family of 12 will have to sell. And when they have to sell it, who's going to buy? The price will be inflated because it was an Extreme Makeover house, but no one is going to buy because A. The market sucks and B. So does the neighborhood it was built in.

Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go turn my thermostat down and have a bologna sandwich.

Tuesday Blather

I didn't sleep well last night, so I ended up sleeping until noon today. Dreary day, so it's not like I'm going to get any yard work done.

I did, however, take the car to get a couple new tires. The back ones, if memory serves, were on the car when I originally purchased it over two years ago. I was pretty certain they needed replacing. Whenever the car would shimmy, I was always reminded of this. After the tires were placed, the tire guy drove my car around the parking lot a couple times in an "8" configuration. Everyone stopped to watch. We were that bored.

While I waited, I watched "Heroes" on my iPod until the battery croaked. I'm only to the third episode. At this rate, I might finish season1 before season 3 is aired.

Paul is sick. He started feeling crappy Sunday night, and all he could say was, "I feel like ass." Sometimes, I think the ass is short-changed. Can't ass be a good thing sometimes?? Anyway, he claims he caught it while reading my blog about me being sick. Whatever. I think it's just a ruse so he can get out of doing anything for my birthday.

Only a couple more weeks until Kant comes to visit. I'm very excited about this. I also think I am going to be hosting the family for Easter dinner on the Saturday before Easter. There will be an egg hunt in my backyard. Hopefully, Sam won't get to the eggs before the kids do.

A relatively quiet day. I think I will go take a nap now.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Friday, March 16, 2007

And Now for Something Truly Disgusting

I've come to the conclusion that there are varying degrees of nausea. There's the nausea you get after seeing something really gross and you don't want to eat anything for at least two hours after you've seen it. There's the nausea you get when you know something bad is about to happen (like finding out your boyfriend has been cheating on you). There's the nausea you get after riding a roller coaster (for some). There's even the nausea pregnant women get, usually in their first trimester, due to the massive storm of hormones raging in their bodies. I've never had the pleasure of experiencing this last nausea.

Some nausea are relevant to bad feelings, bad food, or sights so hideous that your stomach churns. Some people get all that nausea rolled into one...usually the direct result of a full night of drinking green beer.

Then, there is good old fashioned nausea. The warning you get when everything you have eaten that day is going to be revisited, because there is something in your stomach that your body refuses to pass on. The sphincter muscle in the bottom of your stomach recognizes there is a traitor in the midst, and locks down for the remainder of the day, until the offending party leaves from the front door. The great bowel protector!

That, my friends, is the nausea I experienced last night. I hate to blame the sushi, because I LOVE sushi, especially the Vegas roll, but I am afraid the sushi was the culprit because I was belching up fish for the rest of the afternoon. Had a chicken pot pie for dinner and things were okay...until I got ready to go to bed. That's when the first wave of nausea hit. More than a stomach pang, it was was a clear signal from my stomach to my brain that there was going to be action before the night was done.

Then, the second wave it. Nausea so strong that my body shuddered. I hate that feeling. That's when I know that I will be praying to the porcelain Goddess. Fortunately, I had recently cleaned the toilets.

In my pajamas, I made a beeline for the master bath and let fly. Okay, so I am not the greatest aim. I ended up barfing on my feet, the little toilet rug, and all over my shirt. (Let me be the first to say that it was probably the most colorful vomit I have yet to see both on and off the clock.) Retching, retching, retching until I was certain with the next heave, my toes would pop out of my mouth.

I put all the affected items in the washer, took a shower, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed. Oddly enough, I felt TONS better.

I feel better today. I had to run to the bank this morning, stopping by the store to pick up some cabbage for the corned beef that is cooking in the crock pot. Now, I am going to go to bed and rest up for work. I hope this brief illness was a passing thing. I would hate to projectile onto my orientee.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

On Colons and Yard Work

Yesterday was so lovely, and today was chilly...and I didn't like it one bit.

Yesterday, I brought out the new yard tools, raked the front yard, spread grass seed with my new seed spreader, rigged up the new sprinkler with the new hose, and watered the front lawn for about an hour or so. Fortunately, the sprinkler has a big enough reach (and the front yard was small enough), that I didn't need to keep repositioning it.

Last week, Mom sent me a link to a site that sold some sort of colon-cleansing system. Like a dumbass, I clicked on it. (If you have a strong constitution, you should, too!) I wasn't so much disturbed by what was expelled by those who took the product (I am a nurse, after all), but the fact they fished around the toilet to catch it, then set it on their toilet bowl rim to take pictures.

At any rate...Mom wanted to know if this would be safe for her to take because the idea of something so vile residing in her colon was giving her much anxiety. Not so much anxiety that she was willing to shell out the obscene money they were asking for their product, but enough to go to GNC and find something similar.

Operation: Colon Blow has begun. Hopefully, she won't take any pictures. I'd have to disown her then.

Today, I went and had a tasty sushi lunch with Trish, stopping by my credit union afterwards. After I left, I planted face off the curb and slightly strained my ankle. The only thing injured more was my pride. No one was in the immediate vicinity that saw me, but I'm sure someone far away was laughing his ass off.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

A Day That Brings Out the Romance in Everyone

With the untimely demise of my Palm Pilot, I really have been out of sorts in terms of what day it is. I've just been out of sorts altogether since it croaked. My Palm was my lifeline. I feel lost without it.

That being said, I simply forgot that today is Steak and Blowjob Day. For those of you who don't know, you can click on the link above and read up on it.

Considering that no one bothered with me for Valentines Day, I feel no obligation to bother with anyone on this most sacred of Man-days. Your loss, fellas. I grill a pretty mean steak.

Ironically enough, I did pull a steak out of the freezer last night to grill tonight. I did this without realizing today was a holiday.

Time to marinate my meat!!

Tuesday, March 13, 2007

A Set of Matching Silverware Please!

At the urging of many friends and coworkers, I registered today for a Housewarming gift registry. Everyone at the store was excited for me, until they realized that it was a housewarming and not a bridal registry. Sorry to disappoint!

My list is somewhat small, compared to someone who is just starting out and has to have everything. Instead of someone like me, who already has almost everything. Most of the things on my list are upgrades, additionals, and a couple wishful things tossed in. Do I expect to get everything on my list? No, but it will give people ideas. The registry stays active for two years, so at least Mom will know what to give me for Christmas...until 2009.

Registering took a couple of hours, meandering around the store and scanning stuff with the little scanner gun. However, some boxes I had to tip over just to get to the bar codes. I'm here to say that a complete set of Pyrex is rather heavy.

I've set the date for my housewarming party at the end of the month. Weather permitting, we will be grilling out, and general debauchery that only nurses are familiar with.

It should be a fun night for all.

Monday, March 12, 2007

You're Uterus Is Going to Fall Out...Have a Nice Day!!

I was sleeping so good, until Monday struck. This is unfortunate because Mondays are my Fridays.

Sam started barking at a squirrel he saw in the back yard that he had to have. Never mind the fact that it's in a tree, but that doesn't deter the little white bastard from want to go bark at it further. So, I got out of bed and kicked him out. Bark all you want, you little shithead. At least it keeps the squirrels away from the house. I have a friend who had squirrels gnawing on her house to the point they actually got into the walls.

I crawl back into bed when the phone rings, and I see it is my doctor's office. I pick up.

Caller: Hi. I'm calling from So-and-so's office. I'm calling because of your pap smear.
Me: Yeah? (thinking: What the hell? I just got a letter in the mail saying all was honky-dory in Heather's Adventure Kingdom)
Caller: I'm calling to inform you that you had abnormal cells.
Me: Uhhhh
Caller: Yes, so we will need to have you follow-up in three months.
Me: Ummm...okay.
Caller: And for 48 hours before your test, you can't have sex, use this, that or the other.
Me: Hmmm...okay
Caller: So, would you like me to transfer you to scheduling?
Me: Wait a minute! What the hell does having abnormal cells mean?
Caller: Oh. means they are not cancerous cells, but we want to watch them closely.
Me: (not feeling any better) Uhhhh...okay.
Caller: Shall I transfer you??

What. The. Hell. I've never had an abnormal test in my life, and then I get the Great Communicator calling me to tell me different. I don't know if this lady was a nurse or not, but she needs to have her ass beaten. You don't tell someone something as scary as that without giving them a little information.

After I hung up the phone, I just sat there, my mind racing with What if? What if? What if? What if? If this test was so abnormal, why do they want to wait three months? Why wouldn't they want me to come into the office and look into it further? Then, I thought about what if I couldn't have any kids, and I was destined to be one of those old ladies who never had any kids, and had twelve cats, and when I was a patient in a hospital no one would come and visit me because I had no immediate family. I feel sorry for patients like that, the ones who never had any kids, and then they die and the only family they have is a nephew that lives in Toledo that they haven't seen in five years.

I know I am not the first person to have an abnormal Pap...but it's big and scary when it happens to you...even if you have a medical background.

I need some chocolate...stat.

A Weekend in Review

Well, nothing caught fire due to Daylight Savings Time. We were there for 11 hours instead of 12. Initially, we rejoiced in the fact that we were giving it to The Man and shafting him out of an hour of our misery. Hahahaha!

Whatever. The night went by so slow, it felt like we were there for 16 hours. One of those rare quite nights where patients actually slept and no one stopped breathing. Code Browns kept to a minimum. We'd glance at the clock, do some busy work, look at the clock and let out a stream of profanities when we realized only five minutes had passed.

Two coworkers thought it would be a great idea if we all brought food. Everyone agreed and we all vowed to bring food to share. Naturally, only a couple people actually did it. I brought a veggie tray, some dip and crackers. A new nurse made brownies. However, someone failed to tell her to set out said brownies after day shift went home, and she made the mistake of leaving them on the break room table in a Tupperware container. An observer likened their descent upon the brownies like guests on Jerry Springer would descend upon a welfare check. It was ugly. The new nurse was very sad for the remainder of the shift.

I proposed that we add that to the orientation manual for new grads. Never, ever put food out that you want to eat until after 10pm. I've seen a large bag of Sunchips devoured within minutes. Bags of chocolate disappear so fast, it was like they never existed in the first place. If you put something in the refrigerator, there is a 95% probability you will never see it again. I've been told by some day shift people that if it's leafy and green or has a fiber content, it gets left alone.

I've yet to test this theory.

At any rate...

Saturday night went by slow. Sunday night it's polar opposite. We were short and short-tempered. A float nurse (of whom we refer to as Cat Lady) kept paging a doctor, then not answering the phone when the doctor would call back. After five cycles of this crappy game of tag, Cat Lady came to the desk to complain to me that she could never get a hold of said doctor. I almost threw a phone at her head. Good thing I had The Most Awesome Orientee on the Planet. That would be a bad example to set on her fifth day of orientation. I try to wait until at least the 12 day before incorporating workplace violence into the regular routine. Don't want to overwhelm!

Yesterday, I engaged in sleep-deprived dialing. I woke up around noon to let Sam out, and decided to return a phone call to Paul who called earlier. I don't remember much of what was said, but I remember something about a basketball. I also remember sitting there trying to remember why I called in the first place instead of crawling back in bed. Last time I did SDD, I actually fell asleep on the phone and started snoring. Good thing it wasn't long distance.

I'm going to go to bed now and nap. Have fun working. Hopefully, you won't have to sit next to a window and look outside at the amazing weather, lamenting that you are not out in it. I'll think about you as I am sleeping.

Saturday, March 10, 2007

Morning Drive Home

This morning, I got off work and was very excited about going home and going to bed. So, I'm tooling down northbound I-35 and prepare to get onto 70, except there's orange cones everywhere, most of them already driven over. I-70 is CLOSED. A couple cars almost drove over more cones, meanwhile, a late model Civic in 80's teal just sat there, contemplating their next move. They sat there for quite a while.

No signs warning traffic about the close. No detour signs. All leaving bleary-eyed people like me meandering downtown looking for a way out, or a Starbucks.

Kansas City roadwork at it's finest.

So, I had to try to navigate around downtown in an effort to take me the eastern side so I could find a place to get on the open part of 70 (apparently, they were only working on the part that goes under Bartle Hall and beside the Fruit Bowl (aka Sprint Center). This was a challenge as well because everything around that area is closed, torn up...all in the name of beautification for the KC Power and Light District. I hate you, Kay Barnes.

I drove, and drove. I ended up by the Folgers Plant. Drove past the Fruit Bowl three times. Finally, I ended up on Truman road going east, crossing such delightful areas like Holmes, Paseo, Prospect. I had no fear, however. Thugs involved in that gang war were sleeping in on a Saturday. That's how it works...they shoot each other into the late hours of the night, they go to bed, sleep in, and rap about it when they wake up...which is never before lunchtime.

I finally found a ramp to get on 70, and I made it home to the warm confines of my bed.

Tonight is Daylight Savings Time, which means I will be working for eleven hours instead of twelve. The downside is that I have to use an hour of PTO to make up the difference.

Don't forget to set your clocks ahead! Hopefully, we won't have a small global meltdown.

Thursday, March 08, 2007

Tales of the Homeowner: Yard Work

Last night, I went out to Lowes (shocking, I know). With the help of Mom and The Boyfriend, we picked up my selected patio furniture set and brought it home, but not before stopping by BD's for some tasty Mongolian BBQ. Yum!

Today, after much coaxing to myself, I got out of bed and began to get down to business. I unwrapped and unpacked all the pieces to my set. The chairs didn't need assembly, but the table did, as did the umbrella. So, armed with the purple boonie hat and a wrench, I assembled said patio set in less than an hour.

Feeling empowered, I fired up the lawnmower and proceeded to mulch two years worth of dead leaves in my backyard. The Boyfriend boasted the lawnmower came with a two-start guarantee. If it took more than two pulls to start it, then they would fix it or replace it at no charge. True to his word, it started up the first time, every time.

And so I mulched. And mulched. And mulched. Then, I attached the bag to the lawnmower and tried to collect the spoils. I filled up five big 30 gallon lawn bags before calling it a day. While the mower does a stellar job of mulching and picking up leaves, it sucked at picking up those little prickly balls that fall from my two largest trees. Literally, hundreds, if not thousands of these offensive little bastards cover the yard. The mower would zing those things across the yard with such force, Sam hid under the BBQ grill until I was finished mowing. I fear that I am going to be reduced to raking the entire yard anyway to pick up all the little balls, which is what I was hoping to avoid in the first place.

I heard there might be some rain tomorrow, which is good because my afternoon activities have left a fine layer of leaf dust covering the entire neighborhood. I've inhaled so much of it, I will be coughing up black loogies until Cinco de Mayo.

As a reward to myself for all my hard work, I made an enchilada casserole.

Tomorrow night, I return to work. I have been entrusted with an orientee, so I hope I don't scare her away. She's pretty smart, and I think she will be a good nurse. Now, if she can get over the fact that the entire night shift is a herd of perverts just waiting for that sexual harassment lawsuit, then she's golden!

Tuesday, March 06, 2007

Teaching My Mother Some Culture

The Boyfriend works for a company who's boss is Japanese. Mom has been with him for a couple work-related gatherings, and there is usually a lot of bowing that's going on. Mom says The Boyfriend knows only a couple words in Japanese. Mom only knows one. I figured if I could teach her a couple useful phrases, that would definitely score big with the boss.

Mom: I'll tell him mushi-mushi at the next party.
Me: Don't do that.
Mom: Why? It's a real phrase.
Me:'s moshi, moshi...and it's the Japanese greeting for answering the phone. You tell him mushi, mushi...he's going either think you are complaining about the food, or you are retarded.
Mom: Well, what else can I say?
Me: If it is evening, you can say konbawa. It means good evening.
Mom: Corn ball what?
Me: No...kone-bah-wah
Mom: Corn ball...
Me: No! (shakes head and sighs)
Mom: What about another word?
Me: Ask him how he is...O Genki desu ka?
Mom: Oh kinky dis qwa?
Me: No! Oh-gen-ki-des-ka. Ka! Ka!
Mom: O kinki des qwa.
Me: No! There is no kinky. Why does everything have to be about sex?
Mom: What about an a different phrase?
Me: Oyasiminasai.
Mom: You did what with your ass?
Me: You know what? Don't say anything. Just bow and smile or you will cause some sort of international crisis.
Mom: Mushi mushi?

Monday, March 05, 2007

101 Things About Me

I have to credit The D for this idea.

1. My name is Heather, but my friends call me Headhurt, Head, or H-train.
2. I was born on March 21, 1975.
3. I was conceived on the banks of the Republican river (in Kansas) during a 4th of July camp out.
4. I was born without hip joints and had to wear a plaster cast for the first year of my life.
5. I have two younger brothers.
6. My parents divorced when I was 16.
7. My father was an alcoholic.
8. He died when I was 18.
9. I'm a Registered Nurse.
10. I want to retire in the Caribbean and run my own dayspa for fun.
11. I was engaged once when I was 18 to my first serious boyfriend.
12. He proposed to me over pancakes at Old Country Buffet on Christmas Eve morning.
13. I broke it off with him the following March.
14. I'm a Mormon (LDS)
15. I haven't been to church since I started nursing school.
16. I have an American Eskimo named Sam.
17. I have two cats...George and Shasta.
18. I just bought a house in November, and I love it. However, I hate the mortgage payment.
19. My favorite restaurant is Strouds.
20. My friends credit me for being painfully honest.
21. I love fried egg sandwiches.
22. I loathe onions.
23. I love to cook for other people.
24. I went to cosmetology school when I was 19. I hated cutting hair.
25. I got braces in 2003 and had them on for a year. They were shizzle.
26. I speak some Japanese, and even less Russian.
27. I wear glasses to read.
28. I know what it is like to be blind.
29. My "what if guy" lives in South Carolina.
30. I haven't had a serious boyfriend since 2004. He's still in love with me.
31. I'm going to take scuba classes...eventually.
32. I believe marriage should be forever.
33. I've been on three cruises.
34. I just booked my fourth cruise.
35. I love to travel, particularly to the Caribbean.
36. I drive a PT Cruiser.
37. I own my own boat, but it hasn't seen water since 2005.
38. I love to swim in fresh water.
39. My family disappoints me more than I would like. I love them anyway.
40. Out of all of them, I worry about my mother the most.
41. I'm taking my mother out to dinner tonight.
42. Dr. Ruth is my idol.
43. I've had reconstructive knee surgery.
44. I'm a kick ass singer.
45. My best female friend is Kathryn.
46. I've never done drugs, not even experimented.
47. I used to play drums in high school.
48. My IQ is 128
49. I high school, I used to skip lunch and read in the library.
50. My family was poor growing up.
51. I got a $75K settlement and purchased a college education...and the boat.
52. I love current events.
53. My favorite television show is Law and Order: SVU
54. I joined the high school pom-pon squad because the band sucked something awful.
55. I hated being on the pom-pon squad just as much, but I looked cute in the uniform.
56. My best male friend is Paul. He's secretly in love with me.
57. I originally was going to be a high school teacher.
58. My most favorite vehicle I've ever owned was a 1990 Ford F-150.
59. Someone tried to sexually abuse me as a teenager, but I punched him and he left me alone after that.
60. I'm smitten with Elvis Presley.
61. I still get scared when my patients crash.
62. I use sarcasm and humor to deal with stressful situations.
63. I hate slutty nurses...they discredit the profession.
64. I love kissing, and I am quite good at it.
65. I can cross stitch, crochet, and sew.
66. My favorite song is "A Song for You" by Ray Charles.
67. My favorite color is red.
68. I love going to the Farmers Market.
69. I don't like to shop for clothes.
70. My favorite activity is sitting around a campfire with friends/family and talking.
71. My favorite thing to wear is pajama pants made by Momma Lue (Kant's mom).
72. I prefer silver over gold.
73. I collect refrigerator magnets.
74. I don't let people take advantage of me.
75. I own a set of Liberator wedges.
76. I'm a natural blond with brown eyes.
77. The first thing I am attracted to is intelligence. Second, a sense of humor.
78. My mother originally wanted to name me Atlantis Marie.
79. I love perfume. My current favorites are Burberry Brit and KenzoAmore.
80. I can't get up on waterskiis.
81. I was born in Denver, Colorado.
82. I used to live in Nebraska.
83. My favorite drink is mango mohito.
84. I still have my tonsils.
85. I love music...except most hip-hop and rap.
86. My favorite past time is taking naps. Even better if I have someone to snuggle with.
87. I don't have any tattoos, but I do have some piercings.
88. I've never considered having a relationship with another female.
89. I'm going to go looking at patio furniture tomorrow. I may even buy something.
90. I have a PS2 and I love to play the Kingdom Hearts games.
91. I enjoy making people laugh.
92. I'm having a big Open House party this month.
93. I have a bad tire on my car. I'm getting it replaced this week.
94. I got to drive on the Kansas Speedway, but I'm not a NASCAR fan.
95. I almost joined the Navy.
96. I procrastinate.
97. I prefer iced drinks to hot ones.
98. I love roses and lilacs.
99. My grandfather taught me to play chess when I was a kid.
100. My father took me hunting sometimes, but I never killed anything.
101. I'm going to bed early tonight.

Sunday, March 04, 2007


With everyone else getting nifty makeovers on their blog, I'm starting to feel left out. I'm html illiterate, so I can't really do it myself. Plus, I'm afraid of trying for fear of deleting the almost 400 posts I've posted on this blog.

Granted, most of my posts can be categorized as incessant rantings, they are my incessant rantings. Somewhere out there, someone is laughing at my chronic misfortune. That's making a difference, people!

But I digress...

At any rate, I want a web mistress/master of my very own. Someone who will craft me a fabulous page. I pay well in homemade chocolate chip cookies.

And that person, will also have the good feeling knowing that they helped bring joy unto the association.

Saturday, March 03, 2007

Now I'm Depressed

In southern California, a 420lb woman enters the ER complaining of a stomach ache, only to find she is 9 months pregnant and about to give birth. Shockingly, she had no idea she was pregnant.

Even more shocking, is that someone is having sex with her.

Even more shocking than is sex physiologically possible? It takes at least six nurses to put a foley catheter in a 500lb patient.

I'm experiencing a big date drought, and stuff like this happens. I am depressed.

I'm now going to go drown my sorrows in cake batter ice cream. Maybe if I gain another 300lbs, my social life will pick up.

Happy Day!

My best friend, Kant, is coming for a visit next month. She'll stay at my house for a day or two, then visit other friends.

I'm so happy she's coming to visit and to see my new house. We'll be able to stay up late and bitch about men.

Thursday, March 01, 2007

Ship Happens: Update

I know you can scarcely contain yourself as you wait for my review and pictures from this cruise. Take heart, my film is currently getting developed, and a detailed review is in the works.

Why film? I took both a digital camera and my trusty Canon SLR with me. Despite the advances in technology, I still can't seem to tear myself away from film. Call me old fashioned.

So, I will post a review and links to vacation pics within the next week or so.

Don't Like the Weather? Wait 10 minutes.

What. The. Hell.

Last night, it stormed so much that I almost expected Noah's ark to come floating up the street. It rained. It hailed. The winds blew. It rained some more. My PT remained safe and sound within the dry confines of the garage. God Bless Home ownership!!

Now, it's snowing. I wish Mother Nature would make up her mind.

Yesterday afternoon, the weather was so nice, I went outside and raked all the leaves into one ginormous pile beside the house. My mower has mulcher capabilities, so I was going to try to fit two years of dead leaves into the allotted 20 bags for Leaf Day in April.

While raking, I met the neighbor lady across the street, who was helpful in telling me just what I have growing in my yard. Hostas, tulips, various shrubberies. The big bush beside my house...not a lilac bush, but something called Rose of Sharon. Not to be defeated, I've already selected an area to plant a lilac bush at the front of the house.

Neighbor lady also told me about the previous owners, one of which was a stay at home mom who religiously kept up her lawn. If neighbor lady was hinting that maybe she would like to see the same out of me, she's in for a sad realization. At any rate, she seemed nice. She has a hubby, kids and all the trimmings. She assumed I moved in with a husband of my very own. I didn't correct her. Married women get all weird when they find out a single female has moved into the neighborhood.

The other lady who lives next door came home and watched me rake for about 10 minutes, but didn't say two words to me. I think she was making certain I didn't rake any leaves into her yard, which is kind of funny because I'm told she doesn't do much for yard work anyway. She kind of looked like a sourpuss. Hopefully, she just had a bad day at work.

Today, I had my annual Well Woman Exam. I'm still traumatized, so I won't elaborate further on that.

Last night, I made a big pot of delicious chicken and noodles. My pot overfloweth, so I am going to have to take a bunch in to work so it doesn't go to waste. I don't think I even know how to make a small pot of chicken and noodles. The same goes for chili and vegetable soup.

Now, I am done for the day. I may go out and pay a social call to some friends later. Hopefully, I won't get blown off the highway.

On a lighter note, I'm smitten with John McCain. Somehow, his informal announcement on Letterman makes the world a better place...for now.