Tuesday, September 29, 2009

She's Here!

After many false alarms, and great discomfort to the mom-to-be, my little niece was born last week. Naturally, I was at work and had to miss her big debut. Mom got a special invite for the birthing room, so she was calling me (when I wasn't calling her) for updates. And I, in turn, was making announcements to my coworkers. Yeah, I could have called in, but I had just called in from my barotrauma (dive issues), and I didn't want to push my luck with the Bosshole.

But I had to work the ENTIRE weekend, postponing my meet and greet with the new beebs because I was coerced into picking up an extra shift. That Smo is a hardass. My training in the fine arts of hardassdom is coming along nicely.

So, last night, I finally got to meet her. She's so tiny. I don't remember Peanut being so small, but I guess she was. My joy at my new niece can only be eclipsed by watching Brother interact with her. She's like a little planet, and he's a moon that orbits around her.

Brother, having been under the disinct impression that he could not produce children, is beside himself with the new hybrid. Covered in tattoos and piercings, people's first impressions of him are generally not favorable. But when people get to know him, they discover that he's probably one of the most generous and friendly people you could ever meet.

He's using words like adorable, and beautiful, and precious. Words I don't ever remember him using, to describe his daughter. His daughter. He holds her like she's made of fine china and regards her with a reverence I've never seen him exhibit. I feel sorry for the boys who come calling for her when she's a teenager. She's definitely going to be a Daddy's Girl.

It seems like yesterday he was riding around the neighborhood on his bicycle, and I was vigilent, making sure Redneck Brother didn't pick on him. My baby brother. It speaks volumes to a person when the baby of the family is having babies of his own.

As for me? Holding little Kaylee, it made me think of my own biological clock. I don't really hear it, so it's not like I'm one of those child-driven women. I'm 34. Is having a family of my own still possible? I'm not even dating anyone seriously. Is it something I even want? Mom suggested I just find a donor and have one, but I still consider myself old-fashioned that I'd really like to have the Dad present. Marriage and all that stuff...if I decide to go that route.

So, while I remain perched on the fence, I will just enjoy having nieces and nephews. At can at least spoil them and then send them back to their parents house. As for the latest addition to the clan, she's a night person. Sleeps all day, howls all night.

She takes after her aunt that way.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Random Things That Make My Head Asplode

Go Daddy Girls. If I see another one of those lame Go-Daddy commercials, I'm going to lob my 25lb Huskers rock at the television. You know those commercials, usually featuring Danica Patrick and someone from the pool of Dumbest Bimbos on the Planet. Just what does web hosting have anything to do with scantily-clad women writhing everywhere sounding like they were all dropped on their heads at birth? Unless GoDaddy is for hosting porn sites. Birthers. If you rounded up the dumbest people in the country, I'd be willing to bet that over 90% of them are card-carrying idiots of the Birther movement. Their sole purpose, the remove that Muslin, Nazi, Kenyon-born guy from office. But don't make any reference to his color, because that's racist, and Birthers aren't racists (even though you would be hard pressed to find a minority in this group). Given proof of Obama's citizenship, they refute it because it doesn't tell them what they want to hear. You can give them mountains of proof all wrapped up in the U.S. Constitution, and their mob mentality will simply not allow them to concede that every single one of them apparently skipped American Civics class in high school. And to top of this train wreck of a sundae, is the woman who apparently leads the movement....Orly Taitz. She's a Jewish lady who lives in California who is a dentist, a real estate agent, and has a GED in law for the state of California only, and the driving force of the Birther movement. I only remark of her Jewish roots because most of the people she is whipping into a mass hysteria are of the white redneck demographic. She wasn't even born in this country. Neither of her parents are American. Did I mention that she leads a movement of people who are rabid about getting a black man out of office by claiming he's not American??

Note the irony. An internet search will reveal the mountains of batshit crazy this women is. I'll leave it to you for when there is nothing good on television. It would almost be funny, until you consider that her attitude promotes the kind of mentality that gets people killed.Jon and Kate. He's a self-centered douche bag, she's a soul-sucking bitch. Together, they make me want drive a go-cart headfirst into a semi truck. No discernible talent (unless you count having a clown-car for a vagina a talent), and yet they are celebrities. Why? WHY?? One can only hope they die in nuclear fire, and their children can be taken care of by loving people who aren't interested in whoring them out for a paycheck. And while that nuclear fire is burning hot, toss in the entire Kardashian clan, everyone who is on a reality show on MTV and VH1. And ABC. And Fox. Oh hell, just toss them all in. But save Top Chef.

Oh, and Kate, I had that same fucking hair style TEN YEARS AGO! Only I wore it better.

Glenn Beck. If you looked up douche bag in Webster's Dictionary, I'm fairly confident you would find this asshat's picture instead of a printed definition. Actually, douche bag is being too nice. They haven't created a word yet that totally encompasses what a complete tool this guy is. Until then, I will have to settle for every other derogatory adjective I can think of.

A friend of mine, the one who wanted me to have NSA sex with him in exchange for a Q'Doba burrito because he happened to have a coupon, is a hard-line conservative. Probably the only person I know who listens to Rush and Mike and enjoys it. He readily admits he likes Glenn Beck because he's an entertainer. No, Bill Cosby is an entertainer. Garth Brooks is an entertainer. This guy is an asshole. The self proclaimed voice of moral clarity and reason, he once called up a colleague's wife and made jokes about the miscarriage she had a few days prior. Yup, quality entertainment! But this guy has thousands of devout fans, even crazier than he is. Beck is also the kind of guy that promotes hysterical, ignorant frenzy amongst the redneck crowd that gets people killed.

Maybe Glenn Beck and Orly Taitz ought to take their legions of batshit crazy followers and relocate to a small island in the Pacific. With lots of grape Kool-aid.

And they can take Jon, Kate, and those Go-Daddy Girls with them.

Hump Day Blather

So, my ears finally cleared...after a healthy dose of antibiotics and prednisone. I still hear crackles sometimes when I blow my nose, but I suspect that will also go away in time. Do I still want to dive after this experience? Yes, but I will be loading up on meds before my dive.

Tonight, I went to the lovely Ms. Janet's house for a chocolate tasting party. It was so good, I booked one. I figure I can make a bunch of sangria, and if the chocolate presentation ends early enough, I can bust out a small demo of my goods.

Chocolate. Sangria. Toys. It's the Ladies Essentials Trifecta! Let me know if you want to go, I'll send you an invite.

Haven't heard much out of The Boy lately. He goes through what I have dubbed "Dark Moods", so I just let him have his space. He knows I care and am concerned, and am here if he needs an ear and a shoulder. He may not feel the same way I feel, but I just decided to own my feelings. I can still love someone without them returning the favor. I can still worry, and rejoice, and want the very best for someone else without any expectations. It's all part of my human experience.

So suck it.

I'm not afraid of much, but depression, in any magnitude, scares the hell out of me given my past experiences with family members who have been affected by it. It makes me relive painful things and touches the darkest corners of my heart, and it almost debilitates me with terror and anxiety that makes me afraid to answer the phone when it rings. I try not to think of it, I don't like where my mind goes, and it makes me go into my own "Dark Mood". Normally, I can snap out of it, but just going there, and that feeling of helplessness...

And speaking of phones, my cell phone service is not working. I'm not overly thrilled, and I've already spoken with the pinheads at AT&T. They tell me my phone should be working, but it's not. So, if you have been trying to call me (and I know everyone has been trying to call me because I'm so desirable), have patience.

I managed to snag the attention of the guy who does the lawn of one of my neighbors. He also does landscaping and offered some great suggestions of my backyard that doesn't involve grass. Because my backyard looks like Afghanistan, there's not much hope for any type of grass to grow under such large trees, a huge yard of mulch might be an option....with various flora and fauna that can grow in a desolace. I'll spend the winter trying to come up some something awesome. Meanwhile, the new Grass Man (who has a degree in horticulture ftw!), will be coming over next week to work on the front yard.

I will have a lush lawn somewhere on my property!!

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Need More Oinkment!

Yes, everyone is in a lather because of the swine flu. It seems that when it's flu season, it's just called "the flu", but when the flu hits in the off season, it gets a special name, and everyone panics.

I actually know a couple people who got the "swine flu", they stayed home, they followed doctor's orders, and now they are fine. No one panicked. No one died. This isn't the Black Plague.

Mom was telling me that her work rolled out a new policy regarding the swine flu. In a nutshell, it says if you are sick, stay home. If you come to work sick, you'll get in trouble.

But at her job, you don't come in, you still get in trouble. It's like that at a lot of places. Sure, they may puff out their chests, fluff their feathers, and make a big show at how you should think of your coworkers and not come to work, infecting them with your illness. However, you get sick and actually follow their "policy", I guarantee you that a write-up regarding your crappy attendance will be waiting on your desk when you return. Not to mention, in these hard economic times, people are scared of losing their jobs. Hell, there are people who have been waiting months on unemployment for your job to open up. Employers know this. You are easily replaceable.

And this fear, I think, is why the sickness spreads. Sick people will show up at the jobs they are terrified of losing, and before the end of the day, they have left their little microbes all over the office. The company can at least say, "Hey, we told them not to come in", absolving them of any guilt.

So, people, just be smart about the whole flu thing, and take your lead from medical professionals who are NOT PANICKING. Not the media who would have you convinced you should wrap your house in cling wrap and fill it with Dial soap and Isopropyl alcohol.

Wash your hands. When in doubt, wash your hands. Bored? Wash your hands. Nothing good on t.v? Wash those hands. Carry around hand sanitizer because there are some people out there who are allergic to soap and water. Or they belong to a religion that prohibits hand washing immediately after using the bathroom (ewww). Hand washing is the number one proven method for preventing illness. Nursing fundamental 101, and I have the rough, chapped, ugly hands to prove it.

And for godsakes, DON'T PANIC!!

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Recent Developments Patch 1.2

No baby. False alarm.

You can go back to what you are doing.

I'm going back to bed.

Recent Developments

Mom just called. Brother and Co. are currently en route to the hospital. The pending beebs is engaged, the cervix is nice and soft (meaning baby ready), the water has broke, and the contractions are coming. Heh...by morning, I could have a new niece to spoil rotten. Mom is probably more excited about it than anyone...Grammas. Go figure.

I went to the doc today, and I have bilateral ear infections and possible sinus infection and my Eustachian tubes are still blocked (collapsed). Sweet! So, I got a more meds to clutter up my medicine cabinet with.

Nothing to report. Hopefully, I won't be pulling an all-nighter.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Dive! Dive! Dive!!

This past weekend, I went on my big, fat open water dive trip. Having worked the night before, I snuck in a quality 3-hour nap, packed, loaded the car, picked up Stewie, picked up my gear, and high-tailed it to Branson. We made it there in 4 hours...I don't know if this is standard.

After battled the parking lot that is weekend Branson traffic, we finally made it to our hotel. Checking in, we were given two room keys. Keys...not swipe cards. Two keys with big hug key fob that had our room number on it in large, gold print. You know, in case someone found it and wanted to come help themselves to our crap.

Hungry, we walked next door to the Fall Creek Catfish and Steakhouse. I failed to notice on the sign the phrase, "Home of the Tossed Roll".

I don't consider myself afraid of a lot of things, but I discovered my fear at flying food. I don't know if there is a phobia for this, but I sat, wide eyed and in terror whenever the guy who was missing his front teeth popped out the kitchen with this bowl of hot bread. My hands gripped the table, I avoided making eye contact with him for fear of being pelted with warm, yeasty rolls. I may have even broke out in a cold sweat.

After dinner, we decided to turn in early because we had to be at the dive site at 0830. At least we wouldn't have to get up early to shower.

The next day, after an unremarkable complimentary continental breakfast with bad coffee, we hauled ass to the dive site, which was a rocky beach area at Table Rock Lake. Stewie and I were assigned to Divemaster John. After donning our wetsuits, and strapping out ten tons of gear, we waded into the lake. Water pea-green and visibility about 3 feet, unless you happened onto a spot where everyone churned up the silt, then you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.

All day, we would take turns going underwater, demonstrating our skill competency, and then go on "tours", which entails your divemaster leading you around the dive area, looking at various landmarks. And by landmarks, I mean rocks covered in green slime, and little sun fish. The fish were kind of fun as they would swim up to you and take a nibble, and as a result, I have some fish hickeys on my legs and arms.

We did 3 dives that day. After all was said and done, and some Happy Helpertons lugged our gear up to the car, we went back to the hotel, showered, and decided a visit to the local Stone Hill Winery location was in order before dinner.

A short tour and three cases of wine loaded in my car later, we went and had dinner with rest of our diving group. Thankfully, no food was airborne.

Sunday morning, another mediocre continental breakfast, we met up at the dive site again. Two more dives followed by tours of green slime-covered rocks. By noon, everyone was certified to scuba dive, and I was rendered partially deaf due to the full ear blocks I experienced. Apparently, I'm special because I couldn't get my ears to clear the pressure correctly. Plus I had some sinus issues that left me, on more than one occasion, a scuba mask full of blood. My own blood. Which usually isn't a good thing if you plan on someday diving where sharks freely roam.

We made it back home in record time. Since having been back, I've acquired a nasty sinus infection and my ears are still blocked. I have purchased so many meds containing psuedofed, I'm sure CVS now thinks I have a meth lab in my house.

But I still can't hear shit. Whenever I have to talk on the phone, I'm apparently yelling. Because I have no equilibrium, I frequently get dizzy and stagger all over the house. I'm having some pretty bad ear pain, I hope I didn't rupture my ear drum. That would suck.

My doctor appointment is tomorrow morning.

But isn't diving fun?!?!?!

Wednesday, September 09, 2009

Missed Opportunities

Damn...it would appear I totally missed out this past weekend. Instead of sleeping in, playing WoW, hanging with the fam, I could have been scouring the internets for my soul mate.

E-Harmony had a promotional deal for the Labor Day weekend where you could communicate for free for the entire weekend. Then, you will meet your soul mate and bowling partner (according to the commercials, anyway).

I joined eHarmony once. I went to nursing school with a girl who had met her husband through that site, and he was a nice guy. I had been out of my serious relationship for a while, and I thought why the hell not?

How it works, is that you spend an ungodly amount of time answering a shitload of questions about you, your ideals, core values, mission statements, and all those snappy catch words that are usually reserved for work resumes. But this was your dating resume, which is much more important that any career because you are applying to be a soul mate. So, after answering a gajillion questions, the eHarmony gnomes process your answers and spits out a list of people they feel you match up with.

Now, I don't consider myself a social pariah, but apparently, eHarmony thought so. Okay, so maybe the matches didn't meet my own personal expectations, and some might argue that is why I fail at the dating scene...my standards are set way too high. eHarmony was apparently telling me to lower mine, because if I did, my dating options were limitless as long as I didn't consider good dental hygiene a priority as well as a college degree.

eHarmony, knowing that I was a nurse, apparently thought my singleness would be cured by putting me with guys who apparently needed a nurse. I had to check to make sure I didn't accidentally hit the wrong button and navigated to a private duty nurse website. Some guys have a secret desire to be with a woman who knows how to work a pole. My matches had a blatant need for a woman who could work an IV pole.

My membership with eHarmony was short-lived. I never did meet anyone from that site. The final straw was the guy who wanted to meet in person, but said I had to drive because his disability wouldn't allow for it. However, his mom would be more than willing to drop him off somewhere. I work as nurse, I don't particularly care to be one when I come home as well. Unless it calls for me to wear these...
Fuck you, eHarmony.