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.
Monday, March 12, 2007
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.
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!
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: No...it'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?
Mom: I'll tell him mushi-mushi at the next party.
Me: Don't do that.
Mom: Why? It's a real phrase.
Me: No...it'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 gold...fo 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.
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 gold...fo 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
Wanted
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 world...by association.
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 world...by 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 that...how 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.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Carpet Clean!
The carpet cleaner called and asked if he could come over earlier than appointed because he had a cancellation. Sure! I was ready, and that would free up the rest of my afternoon for a nap.
Thirty minutes later, he shows up. A nice guy, with bad teeth. I always notice teeth first on anyone. I've seen some pretty bad grills (not the "blingy" ones) in my day, and I always wonder how they function with them. The meth heads are easy to pick out, then followed by the folks who probably have never owned a toothbrush in their day. Some people can't help crooked teeth, but everyone can help tartar buildup.
I could never kiss a guy with bad teeth. The mere thought of it makes me want to go vomit, then brush my teeth for an hour. Bad teeth is not sexy, and it doesn't even matter what your packing in your shorts.
Anyway, the carpet guy shampoos the carpets. I mentioned that I visited the website and got $20 discount, PLUS the coupon I found in the Yellow Pages for an additional $29 off. Sometimes, my own awesomeness astounds me.
Now, my house smells like oranges...which isn't bad, just different. The carpet remained wet for the better part of the afternoon, which made descending the stairs to the hardwood floor somewhat perilous. While carpet guy was doing his thing, I was poking outside the front yard in the flower beds that are buried under two-years of dead leaves. I discovered flowers!! And newly sprouted flower-looking plants that I have no idea what they are, but will find out when they bloom. This is exciting to me because not only are they added perks that came with the house, but that means less planting I have to do later. As it stands, I'm going to have my hands full with the backyard.
Plus, I suspect that the big bush next to the house is a lilac bush. Well, maybe more hoping than suspecting. Keep your fingers crossed!
Thirty minutes later, he shows up. A nice guy, with bad teeth. I always notice teeth first on anyone. I've seen some pretty bad grills (not the "blingy" ones) in my day, and I always wonder how they function with them. The meth heads are easy to pick out, then followed by the folks who probably have never owned a toothbrush in their day. Some people can't help crooked teeth, but everyone can help tartar buildup.
I could never kiss a guy with bad teeth. The mere thought of it makes me want to go vomit, then brush my teeth for an hour. Bad teeth is not sexy, and it doesn't even matter what your packing in your shorts.
Anyway, the carpet guy shampoos the carpets. I mentioned that I visited the website and got $20 discount, PLUS the coupon I found in the Yellow Pages for an additional $29 off. Sometimes, my own awesomeness astounds me.
Now, my house smells like oranges...which isn't bad, just different. The carpet remained wet for the better part of the afternoon, which made descending the stairs to the hardwood floor somewhat perilous. While carpet guy was doing his thing, I was poking outside the front yard in the flower beds that are buried under two-years of dead leaves. I discovered flowers!! And newly sprouted flower-looking plants that I have no idea what they are, but will find out when they bloom. This is exciting to me because not only are they added perks that came with the house, but that means less planting I have to do later. As it stands, I'm going to have my hands full with the backyard.
Plus, I suspect that the big bush next to the house is a lilac bush. Well, maybe more hoping than suspecting. Keep your fingers crossed!
Tuesday Blather
This morning, I decided to be daring and venture up into the attic. I've never been in my attic, so imagine my surprise when my mother told me it's practically another finished room.
So, I dropped the little door from the ceiling and a ladder popped down. I climbed the ladder, almost fearful of attic/spaghetti monsters. Wouldn't you know...mom was right. There's a floor, light switch, electrical outlets, and one ginormous attic fan. Not to mention a shit ton of room for extra storage, or a place for my brother to stay in the event his house is foreclosed upon. The threat has loomed twice now within the past 12 months, so it is a possibility.
My little adventure made me think of that scene from National Lampoons Christmas Vacation where Clark is in the attic watching old movies. A classic!! Thankfully, I didn't fall from the ceiling.
I'm currently waiting for the carpet shampoo people to get here...which should be in about an hour. The carpets are gross, and I wanted to wait to have them cleaned until I was moved in and settled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What kind of friend wimps out of stopping by to visit citing "I'm tired" and "You're sick"...only to go out to Happy Hour and karaoke later that night? Too tired to check on a sick friend, but not so tired to go out for Long Island Ice Tea and get felt up by your coworkers.
Some friend.
I don't know why I even bother anymore.
I'll just sit here and be mad, because it's a lot easier than admitting your feelings are hurt.
So, I dropped the little door from the ceiling and a ladder popped down. I climbed the ladder, almost fearful of attic/spaghetti monsters. Wouldn't you know...mom was right. There's a floor, light switch, electrical outlets, and one ginormous attic fan. Not to mention a shit ton of room for extra storage, or a place for my brother to stay in the event his house is foreclosed upon. The threat has loomed twice now within the past 12 months, so it is a possibility.
My little adventure made me think of that scene from National Lampoons Christmas Vacation where Clark is in the attic watching old movies. A classic!! Thankfully, I didn't fall from the ceiling.
I'm currently waiting for the carpet shampoo people to get here...which should be in about an hour. The carpets are gross, and I wanted to wait to have them cleaned until I was moved in and settled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
What kind of friend wimps out of stopping by to visit citing "I'm tired" and "You're sick"...only to go out to Happy Hour and karaoke later that night? Too tired to check on a sick friend, but not so tired to go out for Long Island Ice Tea and get felt up by your coworkers.
Some friend.
I don't know why I even bother anymore.
I'll just sit here and be mad, because it's a lot easier than admitting your feelings are hurt.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Adventures in Homebuying: My Bedroom
I've always been smitten with all things Asian. The colors, the sounds, the traditions, the tranquility that they aspire to. Yeah, I understand that Asian men are mostly perverts, but I am willing to overlook that as long as none of them go motorboating in my dirty pillows without permission.
When I bought the house, the master bedroom was this awful dark mustard color. Hideous. Not to mention, the ceiling fan was one of those ugly white wicker ones left over from the 80's. Also hideous. The only redeeming thing about the room was the new carpet.
This wall hanging was brought back from Korea by my brother when he was stationed there. It's some sort of mask play. I'm not up on Korean stuff, but I thought it would look appropriate in my room. I have an incense burner under it. I also put up mahogany-colored bamboo shades in the windows to finish the whole look.
And that is my bedroom for now. Just talking about it makes me want to go take a nap.
I think I will do just that.
That being said, I've always wanted Asian influence in my bedroom. I spend a lot of time in my bedroom, so I wanted it to be a place that was relaxing, sensual, and peaceful at the same time. A place to meditate, and most importantly, sleep without any distractions.
When I bought the house, the master bedroom was this awful dark mustard color. Hideous. Not to mention, the ceiling fan was one of those ugly white wicker ones left over from the 80's. Also hideous. The only redeeming thing about the room was the new carpet.I selected a nice, calming green for my room, but first, I had to prime to walls to get rid of that baby-poop color. The primer was a sea foam green that made me think back to the days when sea foam green was popular, and every bride wanted it for their bridal party. I had never painted before, so I am sure painting this room took me a lot longer than it would take a professional painter. One day to prime the room, the next day, I painted.
This is what my room looks like now. A bought the red Thai silk duvet set from Target at their World Bazaar. I paid full price for it, only to have them discount the set two weeks later by 30%. I know this because Paul likes to remind me whenever it presents itself in conversation, which is almost weekly. I found the silver lamps at Lowes on the clearance table, and the red lampshades at Walmart two months later. My sheets are gold, and 800 thread count. This has made it rather difficult to get out of bed sometimes.
I have a lot of candles in my room, my favorite ones being the soy candles I order online from The Fuzzy Bean Candle Company. The Tea Leaf and Jasmine is my favorite. I discovered them when I went to the KC Home Show last year. My brother gave me the fake bonsai tree. I had nowhere else to put it, so I put it on the dresser for the time being.
These two pictures I also found at Target. Chinese characters for things like Peace, Love, Happiness, etc. The gold sheets match the gold in these pictures. And the red matches the other red items.
I know you guys are thinking this is something naughty. It's not. In fact, it's a daruma. You color in one eye and set a goal, or make a wish, and when that goal or wish is realized, you fill in the other eye. As you see, my daruma has only one eye filled in. I'm not saying what my goal/wish was. But let's just say that I've had this daruma for a long time.
This wall hanging was brought back from Korea by my brother when he was stationed there. It's some sort of mask play. I'm not up on Korean stuff, but I thought it would look appropriate in my room. I have an incense burner under it. I also put up mahogany-colored bamboo shades in the windows to finish the whole look.And that is my bedroom for now. Just talking about it makes me want to go take a nap.
I think I will do just that.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Saturday Blather
I'm still feeling like crap, and sounding like it. The doc said I should feel better by the weekend. She lied.
Yesterday, I had to drive to the vet's office to pick up food for George. He routinely gets a clogged up peehole, so he has to eat special food so his peehole doesn't get plugged up. I'd rather spend $30 on a bag of food instead of $500 to get his plumbing cleaned by the veterinarian. Besides, the food bowl was empty, and George's cries are so loud (he hates having an empty food bowl) that people have accused me of skinning him alive when they heard it.
So, I drive to the vet's office (which is still by where I used to live). The drive was really weird. I had to keep reminding myself where I was, and where I was going, and how I needed to get there. Sort of like my brain was floating around in a huge bowl of pudding.
I made the purchase, and came straight home...reminding myself how to get there, and I only needed to drive in one lane on the highway. By the time I got home, I was so exhausted, it was all I could do to climb up the stairs and climb into bed. I cut a hole in the bag of food and left it on the kitchen floor and told George to have at it.
I called in sick to work last night. I could have called in for the entire weekend, but I want to take it on a day by day sort of thing. This morning isn't showing much more promise than yesterday did. Although, yesterday I was able to cough up lung cookies in varying colors of the rainbow.
Being confined to home has sucked. I planted some tomato seeds in a small portable greenhouse, and that took about 30 minutes of my day. I've already cleaned the house. I've done all my laundry. I don't want to camp out in front of the television. Law and Order even has lost it's appeal for the time being. No one wants to come visit because they don't want to catch what I have. Where's the love, people!?!
I'm bored. Bored enough that going to work even looks like fun. I've downed a glass of orange juice and a diet lemon-lime soda. I don't feel any better.
Being sick sucks.
Yesterday, I had to drive to the vet's office to pick up food for George. He routinely gets a clogged up peehole, so he has to eat special food so his peehole doesn't get plugged up. I'd rather spend $30 on a bag of food instead of $500 to get his plumbing cleaned by the veterinarian. Besides, the food bowl was empty, and George's cries are so loud (he hates having an empty food bowl) that people have accused me of skinning him alive when they heard it.
So, I drive to the vet's office (which is still by where I used to live). The drive was really weird. I had to keep reminding myself where I was, and where I was going, and how I needed to get there. Sort of like my brain was floating around in a huge bowl of pudding.
I made the purchase, and came straight home...reminding myself how to get there, and I only needed to drive in one lane on the highway. By the time I got home, I was so exhausted, it was all I could do to climb up the stairs and climb into bed. I cut a hole in the bag of food and left it on the kitchen floor and told George to have at it.
I called in sick to work last night. I could have called in for the entire weekend, but I want to take it on a day by day sort of thing. This morning isn't showing much more promise than yesterday did. Although, yesterday I was able to cough up lung cookies in varying colors of the rainbow.
Being confined to home has sucked. I planted some tomato seeds in a small portable greenhouse, and that took about 30 minutes of my day. I've already cleaned the house. I've done all my laundry. I don't want to camp out in front of the television. Law and Order even has lost it's appeal for the time being. No one wants to come visit because they don't want to catch what I have. Where's the love, people!?!
I'm bored. Bored enough that going to work even looks like fun. I've downed a glass of orange juice and a diet lemon-lime soda. I don't feel any better.
Being sick sucks.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Let's Take a Vote!
By a show of hands, who is sick and tired of hearing about Anna Nicole's afterlife strife??
How hard can it be to bury someone?? BURY HER ALREADY!!! I almost can smell her from here. By the time a decision is made, the only thing left of her remains will be those silicone implants.
I'm also convinced that the judge in the hearings worked his way through law school as a used car salesman. Smarmy!!!
Hell, if someone like him can make it through law school, there's hope for me yet.
AND DO A DAMN DNA TEST ON THE BABY!!
How hard can it be to bury someone?? BURY HER ALREADY!!! I almost can smell her from here. By the time a decision is made, the only thing left of her remains will be those silicone implants.
I'm also convinced that the judge in the hearings worked his way through law school as a used car salesman. Smarmy!!!
Hell, if someone like him can make it through law school, there's hope for me yet.
AND DO A DAMN DNA TEST ON THE BABY!!
Television Talent...or Lack Of
With my new acquisition of television reception via satellite dish, my world has been opened up.
However, I still have no idea why people watch reality show drivel.
Last night, I engaged in a flu-version of drunk dialing. Only the strongest thing I had been drinking was NyQuil. I called my friend Trish, thinking it was my sister-in-law, and asked her if her four-year old was reading books yet because I saw a really good deal on Dr. Suess books I thought he JUST HAD TO HAVE. Trish officially has deemed me nuts. I called my brother and I don't even remember what I asked him. I hope I didn't agree to give him any money.
One thing is for certain, though. I am the only person in the northern hemisphere that does not watch American Idol. Everyone I called was watching it. I don't understand the attraction. Since when does Paula Abdul have an authority to judge who has singing talent and who does not? She was in a video with a cartoon cat, for crying out loud! Now, she can hardly string together four words or more to make a complete, and comprehensible sentence.
Not to be outdone, the country music demographic has their own little country-version of American Idol called Nashville Star. I don't watch it either, but I have seen the commercials. Two questions always pop into my head when I see them.
1. Since when did Jewel become country music aficionado? Banging a rodeo star does not automatically make you a cowgirl.
2. Cowboy Troy? What. The. Hell. I remember the first time I saw a video with him in it. When it was done, Kant looked at me and simply said, "that sucked." Indeed.
I also don't get into why some people are so obsessed with television shows. Every time I hear a group conference about Grey's Anatomy, it makes me want to run screaming and pulling my hair out.
Any show that romanticizes extra-marital affairs needs to have their producers lined up for castration.
Die, Meredith, DIE!!
However, I still have no idea why people watch reality show drivel.
Last night, I engaged in a flu-version of drunk dialing. Only the strongest thing I had been drinking was NyQuil. I called my friend Trish, thinking it was my sister-in-law, and asked her if her four-year old was reading books yet because I saw a really good deal on Dr. Suess books I thought he JUST HAD TO HAVE. Trish officially has deemed me nuts. I called my brother and I don't even remember what I asked him. I hope I didn't agree to give him any money.
One thing is for certain, though. I am the only person in the northern hemisphere that does not watch American Idol. Everyone I called was watching it. I don't understand the attraction. Since when does Paula Abdul have an authority to judge who has singing talent and who does not? She was in a video with a cartoon cat, for crying out loud! Now, she can hardly string together four words or more to make a complete, and comprehensible sentence.
Not to be outdone, the country music demographic has their own little country-version of American Idol called Nashville Star. I don't watch it either, but I have seen the commercials. Two questions always pop into my head when I see them.
1. Since when did Jewel become country music aficionado? Banging a rodeo star does not automatically make you a cowgirl.
2. Cowboy Troy? What. The. Hell. I remember the first time I saw a video with him in it. When it was done, Kant looked at me and simply said, "that sucked." Indeed.
I also don't get into why some people are so obsessed with television shows. Every time I hear a group conference about Grey's Anatomy, it makes me want to run screaming and pulling my hair out.
Any show that romanticizes extra-marital affairs needs to have their producers lined up for castration.
Die, Meredith, DIE!!
Monday, February 19, 2007
Puff, Puff, Pass
It's not strep. It's a viral something-or-another that doesn't have a name, nor anything to kill it. As with most viruses, you can only treat the symptoms and ride it out until you get better on your own. Hopefully, you have a decent enough immune system to help you out.
So, the nurse practitioner gave me an inhaler because this virus is causing "reactive airway", meaning, my upper respiratory tract is protesting the presence of said virus and is rebelling. Incidentally, she thinks I may have got it on the airplane on the way home. That figures.
At any rate, I'm still contagious. She wasn't too happy when I told her I worked over the weekend. Oops. Had I called in, it would have left my floor horribly short, not to mention the Bosshole would have come down on me like white on rice. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
So, I've been hitting the hot tea with lemon and honey. Good thing I brought a bunch back with me from Tortola. There's something about Mango tea that makes you not want to rip the heads off the neighbor children when they come over to play with the dog.
I've been awake all day long. Actually, I haven't had sleep since yesterday. I took some benadryl earlier, and now I hear my bed calling me. Electric blanket and all. I think I will just spend the next couple days in hibernation. I've got a handful of books I have yet to read. Heroes downloaded onto the iPod, and an endless supply of throat lozenges.
So, the nurse practitioner gave me an inhaler because this virus is causing "reactive airway", meaning, my upper respiratory tract is protesting the presence of said virus and is rebelling. Incidentally, she thinks I may have got it on the airplane on the way home. That figures.
At any rate, I'm still contagious. She wasn't too happy when I told her I worked over the weekend. Oops. Had I called in, it would have left my floor horribly short, not to mention the Bosshole would have come down on me like white on rice. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
So, I've been hitting the hot tea with lemon and honey. Good thing I brought a bunch back with me from Tortola. There's something about Mango tea that makes you not want to rip the heads off the neighbor children when they come over to play with the dog.
I've been awake all day long. Actually, I haven't had sleep since yesterday. I took some benadryl earlier, and now I hear my bed calling me. Electric blanket and all. I think I will just spend the next couple days in hibernation. I've got a handful of books I have yet to read. Heroes downloaded onto the iPod, and an endless supply of throat lozenges.
Go Away World
I made it through another weekend at work. My first weekend since vacation. I was sick through the entire thing. It sucked. I'm confident that everyone I have in contact with this weekend will be sick by the end of the week.
Throat is still raw, white and streaky. My voice has left me. I'm tired and cranky. I called and made an appointment to go see the doctor today at 3:30. I tried to snag a resident before I left work so they could look at my throat and give me a prescription for some antibiotics...but all I could find were shortcoats (i.e. medical students), and they are not very helpful in matters of life and death.
Mom and the Boyfriend stopped by. I don't know why, but they took my garbage. After they left, I took a shower. While sitting in my robe, the neighbor kids came to door and rang the bell. I'm assuming they wanted me to put Sam in the back yard so they could play with him. I didn't answer the door. I'm sick and I don't have to do anything but sick here and hack up my lung. Shouldn't they be in school?? I don't ever remember getting President's Day off when I was in grade school.
I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Why can't someone just come and take care of me?? Some homemade chicken soup would be nice, and some hot tea. A little cuddling and a back rub.
And a shit-ton of penicillin.
Throat is still raw, white and streaky. My voice has left me. I'm tired and cranky. I called and made an appointment to go see the doctor today at 3:30. I tried to snag a resident before I left work so they could look at my throat and give me a prescription for some antibiotics...but all I could find were shortcoats (i.e. medical students), and they are not very helpful in matters of life and death.
Mom and the Boyfriend stopped by. I don't know why, but they took my garbage. After they left, I took a shower. While sitting in my robe, the neighbor kids came to door and rang the bell. I'm assuming they wanted me to put Sam in the back yard so they could play with him. I didn't answer the door. I'm sick and I don't have to do anything but sick here and hack up my lung. Shouldn't they be in school?? I don't ever remember getting President's Day off when I was in grade school.
I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. Why can't someone just come and take care of me?? Some homemade chicken soup would be nice, and some hot tea. A little cuddling and a back rub.
And a shit-ton of penicillin.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Heather Has an Admirer
Well, it would appear that way.
I've just been informed that someone has taken a liking to me. What can I say? I'm the complete package. This guy is just going to have to get in line and take a number.
Why not date him, you may ask? Just because I may be at a buffet doesn't mean I have to eat everything offered.
I'm a picky eater.
I've just been informed that someone has taken a liking to me. What can I say? I'm the complete package. This guy is just going to have to get in line and take a number.
Why not date him, you may ask? Just because I may be at a buffet doesn't mean I have to eat everything offered.
I'm a picky eater.
Top Ten Reasons Why Britney Spears Shaved Her Head
10. With the passing of Anna Nicole, someone had to fill the slot of "crazy-assed nutball".9. Will be venturing into the genre of "punk rock" and wanted to look the part.
8. Became a devout Hari Krishna follower and will begin her worldwide airport tour this spring.
7. Watched a Star Trek Next Generation marathon and believed she was a closet Klingon. Hab SoSlI' Quch!
6. Flea market hair extensions caused her hair to fall out.
5. Wanted the curtains to match the carpet...or lack thereof.
4. Crab migration.
3. Long lost cousin of Sinead O' Connor.
2. Ran out of Prozac and Cheetos.
1. Who really cares? She still can't sing.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
This Can't Be a Good Thing
My first night back at work, and my ass is dragging the ground. I haven't been to work since the end of last month. This isn't going well for me.
And I am in charge. And I am precepting a new nurse. God help everyone.
To top it all off, my throat has been sore, I'm slowly losing my voice, and I have red spots all over the back of my throat and tonsils. I seem to remember from my nursing school days that the red spots are indicative of something...but hell if I can remember what. I drank some hot tea earlier. I don't feel any better. We only have three nurses scheduled to work because we already have one out sick. Calling in isn't an option.
I made it to work without incident. I would have left home earlier, but I had a hard time getting Sam back into the house. He figured out that I was going to work, so he figured that as long as he stayed outside, I wouldn't leave. Bastard.
I'm slowly getting vacation photos posted to an online Flickr account. As soon as it is ready to go, I will post the link. I'm also including pics from all the crap I'm doing to the house.
I think I will go make some more tea. This is a very long night.
And I am in charge. And I am precepting a new nurse. God help everyone.
To top it all off, my throat has been sore, I'm slowly losing my voice, and I have red spots all over the back of my throat and tonsils. I seem to remember from my nursing school days that the red spots are indicative of something...but hell if I can remember what. I drank some hot tea earlier. I don't feel any better. We only have three nurses scheduled to work because we already have one out sick. Calling in isn't an option.
I made it to work without incident. I would have left home earlier, but I had a hard time getting Sam back into the house. He figured out that I was going to work, so he figured that as long as he stayed outside, I wouldn't leave. Bastard.
I'm slowly getting vacation photos posted to an online Flickr account. As soon as it is ready to go, I will post the link. I'm also including pics from all the crap I'm doing to the house.
I think I will go make some more tea. This is a very long night.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Because Everyone Has Questions
I know everyone wants to know certain things about my trip. Not about the weather, or the beaches, but the fact that I went with a guy I obviously like, and nothing happened. I called Mom when we got back into the U.S. Naturally, Paul (not dating!) was standing nearby, so this is how the conversation went...
Mom: Did anything happen?
Me: We hit a goat on one of our tours.
Mom: No...I mean did anything happen? Like...with you and Paul.
Me: Nope
Mom: Nothing?
Me: No
Mom: No smoochies?
Me: None
Mom: No hand holding?
Me: Nada
Mom: No cuddling?
Me: Not at all.
Mom: Did you at least talk about it?
Me: Nope.
Mom: Well...shit.
Paul called one of his friends, and this was the conversation I heard from my end.
Nope
(pause)
Negative
(pause)
No
(pause)
Nope
(pause)
No
(pause)
We hit a goat.
It's good to know that I'm not the only one in the crossfire.
Mom: Did anything happen?
Me: We hit a goat on one of our tours.
Mom: No...I mean did anything happen? Like...with you and Paul.
Me: Nope
Mom: Nothing?
Me: No
Mom: No smoochies?
Me: None
Mom: No hand holding?
Me: Nada
Mom: No cuddling?
Me: Not at all.
Mom: Did you at least talk about it?
Me: Nope.
Mom: Well...shit.
Paul called one of his friends, and this was the conversation I heard from my end.
Nope
(pause)
Negative
(pause)
No
(pause)
Nope
(pause)
No
(pause)
We hit a goat.
It's good to know that I'm not the only one in the crossfire.
Welcome Home to Me!
It's just after midnight, and I am up waiting for Paul (not dating!) to call me and let me know he made it home in one piece. I told him he could crash at my house, but he wanted to sleep in his own bed. I suspect he didn't want to listen to another night of me snoring. Ten nights of listening to me snore was probably a bit much. What can I say? I snored to drown him out.
So, our ship got into Ft. Lauderdale before the butt-crack of dawn Sunday morning. We packed the last of our items, said good-bye to the cabin, ate one last time at the community trough, and debarked the ship. Standing outside until we found a shuttle that would take us to the hotel because in all my infinite wisdom, I figured that by staying an extra day, we would avoid the massive crowds of people at the airport, all returning from their cruises.
Whatever! Over the course the weekend, twelve ships rotated out of Ft. Lauderdale and Miami...but more on that later.
We stayed at the Holiday Inn at Ft. Lauderdale Beach. What a shithole! We arrived around 11am. Now, I understand that all hotels have check-in time in the afternoon, but usually, you can get a room if you happen to get there early. Not with this place. We were able to leave our luggage in the little bellhop closet and go find lunch, walk on the beach, take some pictures, etc, etc. We returned to the hotel around 2:30. No rooms were ready, and no one was getting checked in until their check-in time of 4pm. The lobby was full of luggage and cranky cruise passengers. One couple even had their emailed confirmation in hand, promising early check-in, but were told they would have to wait until 4pm like everyone else because their room was a "special room" and wouldn't be ready until 4pm. No apologies, but plenty of smartass comments from the staff at the front desk. One guest was ready to climb over the front desk and throttle the scrawny kid named Derek who was being a ginormous dickhead. Apparently, in Ft. Lauderdale, customer service is merely an option. At one point, the entire front desk staff retreated to the back to get away from the angry mob that they created.
Now, I consider myself pretty easygoing when it comes to vacations and such. I'm not nit picky as some people are who think their entire stay is ruined if they see one discoloration on the carpet. However, this place was a shithole. The floors were so nasty that Paul almost passed out when I kneeled on the carpet to dig around in my suitcase. Mold in the bathroom. Hair on the washcloth that Paul swore up and down was a pubic hair. Bad! Bad! Bad!
Needless to say, I won't be staying at a Holiday Inn again. I'm also going to post a review on Trip Advisor.
Rain began pouring down in Ft. Lauderdale that evening, so we ordered pizza to be delivered to the hotel. It sucked, too. We were starting to notice a trend.
Exhausted, we turned in around 8pm. Paul began snoring immediately. I noticed that the first person to fall asleep fared better because if you didn't fall asleep first, you would never get to sleep because the other person's snoring would prevent it from happening. In my sleep deprived delirium, I called my mother's cell phone and left a message which consisted entirely of Paul snoring. The next day, I spoke with Mom who told me she almost called her phone company to complain she was getting obscene phone calls.
Monday morning, we got up, got ready, gathered our crap, caught a shuttle, went to the airport. This is where those twelve cruise ships I mentioned come into play. Hundreds of people! Lines everywhere!! People were getting agitated and mutiny was imminent. We got there around 12:30pm, and actually made it to the gate 10 minutes before our plane started boarding around 3:20. Some people actually missed their flights.
AirTran sucks. I shall never fly with them again either. I should have listened to Kant when she told me they were awful. Their seats are roughly the equivalent of a wooden box with a thin layer of toilet paper spread over it. You try sitting on that for 3 hours straight and see how you like it.
After a layover in Atlanta, we made it home around 9:30 pm to snow. A far cry from 80-some degrees and sunshine. The ride home was harrowing. All I could imagine was us sliding into someone or something, and the airbag blowing up in my face.
So now I am home. I have a new fireplace mantle, courtesy of The Boyfriend (I'll post pictures later). Mom cleaned the house. Mom and The Boyfriend cleaned the garage so now you can park two cars in there instead of just one.
Screw unpacking...I'm going to bed. It's going to be so nice to snore myself to sleep.
So, our ship got into Ft. Lauderdale before the butt-crack of dawn Sunday morning. We packed the last of our items, said good-bye to the cabin, ate one last time at the community trough, and debarked the ship. Standing outside until we found a shuttle that would take us to the hotel because in all my infinite wisdom, I figured that by staying an extra day, we would avoid the massive crowds of people at the airport, all returning from their cruises.
Whatever! Over the course the weekend, twelve ships rotated out of Ft. Lauderdale and Miami...but more on that later.
We stayed at the Holiday Inn at Ft. Lauderdale Beach. What a shithole! We arrived around 11am. Now, I understand that all hotels have check-in time in the afternoon, but usually, you can get a room if you happen to get there early. Not with this place. We were able to leave our luggage in the little bellhop closet and go find lunch, walk on the beach, take some pictures, etc, etc. We returned to the hotel around 2:30. No rooms were ready, and no one was getting checked in until their check-in time of 4pm. The lobby was full of luggage and cranky cruise passengers. One couple even had their emailed confirmation in hand, promising early check-in, but were told they would have to wait until 4pm like everyone else because their room was a "special room" and wouldn't be ready until 4pm. No apologies, but plenty of smartass comments from the staff at the front desk. One guest was ready to climb over the front desk and throttle the scrawny kid named Derek who was being a ginormous dickhead. Apparently, in Ft. Lauderdale, customer service is merely an option. At one point, the entire front desk staff retreated to the back to get away from the angry mob that they created.
Now, I consider myself pretty easygoing when it comes to vacations and such. I'm not nit picky as some people are who think their entire stay is ruined if they see one discoloration on the carpet. However, this place was a shithole. The floors were so nasty that Paul almost passed out when I kneeled on the carpet to dig around in my suitcase. Mold in the bathroom. Hair on the washcloth that Paul swore up and down was a pubic hair. Bad! Bad! Bad!
Needless to say, I won't be staying at a Holiday Inn again. I'm also going to post a review on Trip Advisor.
Rain began pouring down in Ft. Lauderdale that evening, so we ordered pizza to be delivered to the hotel. It sucked, too. We were starting to notice a trend.
Exhausted, we turned in around 8pm. Paul began snoring immediately. I noticed that the first person to fall asleep fared better because if you didn't fall asleep first, you would never get to sleep because the other person's snoring would prevent it from happening. In my sleep deprived delirium, I called my mother's cell phone and left a message which consisted entirely of Paul snoring. The next day, I spoke with Mom who told me she almost called her phone company to complain she was getting obscene phone calls.
Monday morning, we got up, got ready, gathered our crap, caught a shuttle, went to the airport. This is where those twelve cruise ships I mentioned come into play. Hundreds of people! Lines everywhere!! People were getting agitated and mutiny was imminent. We got there around 12:30pm, and actually made it to the gate 10 minutes before our plane started boarding around 3:20. Some people actually missed their flights.
AirTran sucks. I shall never fly with them again either. I should have listened to Kant when she told me they were awful. Their seats are roughly the equivalent of a wooden box with a thin layer of toilet paper spread over it. You try sitting on that for 3 hours straight and see how you like it.
After a layover in Atlanta, we made it home around 9:30 pm to snow. A far cry from 80-some degrees and sunshine. The ride home was harrowing. All I could imagine was us sliding into someone or something, and the airbag blowing up in my face.
So now I am home. I have a new fireplace mantle, courtesy of The Boyfriend (I'll post pictures later). Mom cleaned the house. Mom and The Boyfriend cleaned the garage so now you can park two cars in there instead of just one.
Screw unpacking...I'm going to bed. It's going to be so nice to snore myself to sleep.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
Ship Happens: Visiting the Armpit of U.S. Territories
Monday we woke up late, only to realize that we didn't catch the memo about setting our clocks another hour forward, so we missed the group excursion to go down the big water slide on the cruise ship...and group photo. We also missed breakfast, which is a tragedy because anytime you miss a meal on a cruise ship, it is equivalent to of a garden-variety Catholic miss having tea with the Pope. I'm just saying, that's how serious some passengers take chow time.
So, I am currently two hours ahead of everyone back home. It's around 9:30pm where I am now, still tending to my sunburn. Which means everyone is still freezing their asses off in Kansas City around 7:30pm.
Monday night, we stopped in San Juan, and were slated to remain there from 5pm to Midnight. Most all the shops had closed for the night. All the other shops that stayed open all sold the exact same thing. I must say I wasn't overly impressed with San Juan. Garbage everywhere emitting a mixed bag of smells...none of them good. We saw a guy who was stoned into the next time zone passed out in a doorway.
Our friends wanted to visit Senor Frogs...which is a drinking establishment of the most unique kind. This is the place people like to go to because they know that by the end of the night, someone is going to have their clothes off. Everything there is butt-ass expensive. You'd have to mortgage your house for a plate of nachos.
At any rate, Kristi and Kevin ducked into Senor Frogs. I didn't feel like getting tequila served to me in a squirt gun, so I decided to go back to the ship. Paul (we're still not dating) followed. We had pizza from our hangout in the back of the ship (Aft for all you nautical folks). Aside from learning that everyone's garbage looks and smells the same regardless of your nationality, it was a relatively unremarkable port.
Today, we landed at St. Thomas. Butt. Ass. Expensive. A regular bottle of Aquafina...$3. We booked an island tour which landed us on a beach, where the skies opened up and it rained. Some people ran out of the water and under the bar canopy. I suppose it was because they didn't want to get wet.
Also, folks in St. Thomas drive on the wrong side of the road. Everyone drives like they live in St. Louis, but on much more narrow roads, and a winding mountainous terrain. I feared for my life more than once.
Right now, Paul (not dating!) is back in the cabin, snoring to his heart's content. I stopped by the ship's shop and bought some really good perfume because I couldn't find a watch I liked.
Tomorrow, we are going to be in Antigua. Thursday we will be in Tortola. Two days at sea and then we are home. If you guys had snow, I hope you have the decency to have the roads clear upon my return.
So, I am currently two hours ahead of everyone back home. It's around 9:30pm where I am now, still tending to my sunburn. Which means everyone is still freezing their asses off in Kansas City around 7:30pm.
Monday night, we stopped in San Juan, and were slated to remain there from 5pm to Midnight. Most all the shops had closed for the night. All the other shops that stayed open all sold the exact same thing. I must say I wasn't overly impressed with San Juan. Garbage everywhere emitting a mixed bag of smells...none of them good. We saw a guy who was stoned into the next time zone passed out in a doorway.
Our friends wanted to visit Senor Frogs...which is a drinking establishment of the most unique kind. This is the place people like to go to because they know that by the end of the night, someone is going to have their clothes off. Everything there is butt-ass expensive. You'd have to mortgage your house for a plate of nachos.
At any rate, Kristi and Kevin ducked into Senor Frogs. I didn't feel like getting tequila served to me in a squirt gun, so I decided to go back to the ship. Paul (we're still not dating) followed. We had pizza from our hangout in the back of the ship (Aft for all you nautical folks). Aside from learning that everyone's garbage looks and smells the same regardless of your nationality, it was a relatively unremarkable port.
Today, we landed at St. Thomas. Butt. Ass. Expensive. A regular bottle of Aquafina...$3. We booked an island tour which landed us on a beach, where the skies opened up and it rained. Some people ran out of the water and under the bar canopy. I suppose it was because they didn't want to get wet.
Also, folks in St. Thomas drive on the wrong side of the road. Everyone drives like they live in St. Louis, but on much more narrow roads, and a winding mountainous terrain. I feared for my life more than once.
Right now, Paul (not dating!) is back in the cabin, snoring to his heart's content. I stopped by the ship's shop and bought some really good perfume because I couldn't find a watch I liked.
Tomorrow, we are going to be in Antigua. Thursday we will be in Tortola. Two days at sea and then we are home. If you guys had snow, I hope you have the decency to have the roads clear upon my return.
Monday, February 05, 2007
Ship Happens: Where Mondays are Good Days
Of course, any day on a cruise ship is a good day.
After having no sleep for well over 24 hours, we made it to Ft. Lauderdale. We flew on AirTran, which has the most uncomfortable seats in the entire airline industry. During my layover in Atlanta, I kept seeing people wearing Chicago Bears colors, so I started thinking I was in Chicago. That's how tired I was. Thankfully, I was able to take a nap during our Atlanta to Ft. Lauderdale flight. No one bothered to wake me up for the pretzels, leaving me propped on my little polka-dotted travel pillow I bought at Walmart on the way to the airport, drooling on said pillow, and apparently snoring. I can't verify this because people are prone to lying when it comes to me snoring.
In case you were all wondering...Paul came with me on this trip. And no, we are still not dating. Of note, he snores...very, very loudly. I've had to hit him in the head with my travel pillow on more than one occasion. At least his snoring sort of drowns out the Piano Bar that is directly below our cabin.
We are currently hauling ass at a speed of 20 miles and hour (or whatever that translates in to nautical miles), and should reach San Juan around 5pm, where we will be staying until midnight. I have no idea what we will be doing in San Juan because most all the shops will be closed when we get there. I suppose we could check out a local restaurant or something...or just meander around and hope we don't get mugged. Another couple (a nurse I went to school with and her husband), have also joined us on this trip. So, there is safety in numbers. Unless they are both shitfaced.
Current temps...somewhere hovering just above 80 degrees. A few clouds in the sky. We sat outside yesterday as it was a Sea Day, and predictably, I got sunburned...bad. I'm about as red as the lobster that graced my dinner plate last night. So much for pre-tanning before cruising. It was about as effective as the Pull and Pray Method.
Thus far, the cruise has been entertaining. I'm trying not to be on the go all the time, but instead relaxing. We're also involved in a Murder Mystery Cruise, so everyone has been asking me if I am having an affair with the Cruise Director, not to mention if I've been having sex in the lifeboats. With a name like Hedonistic Heather, I suppose I would be suspect.
We only set sail Saturday night, and already I feel like I have been on this ship for a week. I'm not ready to come home, though. I've heard about the temps in KC...and I kind of like hanging around in my swimsuit and purple boonie hat for the time being.
I'll post my pics when I get home, but I thought I would drop a line to everyone to let them know that I haven't fallen off the boat. Everyone has been really nice, the food has been great, and the company somewhat entertaining. I'll post a more comprehensive review of my trip with I get home and don't have to pay $.55 a minute to be online.
I'm now going to go drink something out of a hollowed-out coconut. The tea here is nasty.
After having no sleep for well over 24 hours, we made it to Ft. Lauderdale. We flew on AirTran, which has the most uncomfortable seats in the entire airline industry. During my layover in Atlanta, I kept seeing people wearing Chicago Bears colors, so I started thinking I was in Chicago. That's how tired I was. Thankfully, I was able to take a nap during our Atlanta to Ft. Lauderdale flight. No one bothered to wake me up for the pretzels, leaving me propped on my little polka-dotted travel pillow I bought at Walmart on the way to the airport, drooling on said pillow, and apparently snoring. I can't verify this because people are prone to lying when it comes to me snoring.
In case you were all wondering...Paul came with me on this trip. And no, we are still not dating. Of note, he snores...very, very loudly. I've had to hit him in the head with my travel pillow on more than one occasion. At least his snoring sort of drowns out the Piano Bar that is directly below our cabin.
We are currently hauling ass at a speed of 20 miles and hour (or whatever that translates in to nautical miles), and should reach San Juan around 5pm, where we will be staying until midnight. I have no idea what we will be doing in San Juan because most all the shops will be closed when we get there. I suppose we could check out a local restaurant or something...or just meander around and hope we don't get mugged. Another couple (a nurse I went to school with and her husband), have also joined us on this trip. So, there is safety in numbers. Unless they are both shitfaced.
Current temps...somewhere hovering just above 80 degrees. A few clouds in the sky. We sat outside yesterday as it was a Sea Day, and predictably, I got sunburned...bad. I'm about as red as the lobster that graced my dinner plate last night. So much for pre-tanning before cruising. It was about as effective as the Pull and Pray Method.
Thus far, the cruise has been entertaining. I'm trying not to be on the go all the time, but instead relaxing. We're also involved in a Murder Mystery Cruise, so everyone has been asking me if I am having an affair with the Cruise Director, not to mention if I've been having sex in the lifeboats. With a name like Hedonistic Heather, I suppose I would be suspect.
We only set sail Saturday night, and already I feel like I have been on this ship for a week. I'm not ready to come home, though. I've heard about the temps in KC...and I kind of like hanging around in my swimsuit and purple boonie hat for the time being.
I'll post my pics when I get home, but I thought I would drop a line to everyone to let them know that I haven't fallen off the boat. Everyone has been really nice, the food has been great, and the company somewhat entertaining. I'll post a more comprehensive review of my trip with I get home and don't have to pay $.55 a minute to be online.
I'm now going to go drink something out of a hollowed-out coconut. The tea here is nasty.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Preparing for Vacation
I was unable to go out and run any errands yesterday due to crappy streets, which forced me to engage in a sort of scramble today. I have a feeling I won't be getting much sleep between now and the time my plane takes off...which will be 7:30am tomorrow.
First, I met up with Trish and we had lunch at Applebees. From there, we parted ways and I made my way over to Zona Rosa where I did some more shopping for crap I thought I would need, but in all truthfulness, probably don't. While I was perusing through the underwear, I overheard the two girls working there making calls. Earlier in the day, one of sales girls had her credit card stolen as someone snuck into the back room and helped themselves. By the time she had realized it was stolen and called the CC company, the perps (there were three) had already made stops to Dicks, Barnes and Noble, and Toys R Us. I don't know how much they had charged, but the girl was freaking out.
I got me thinking...
Doesn't anyone bother to check ID anymore?? Any plastic I have has "CHECK ID" in black marker written on the spot where I am supposed to sign my name. Do you know how many times I have used it, and no has even bothered to ask...even after seeing that on the back of the card. And when they do ask, I almost feel like I need to thank them for asking.
There should be a rule. Stores who do not ask for identification will be responsible for the charge if that card turns out to be stolen. While this wouldn't prevent all credit card fraud, it would help decrease it. The skankmuffins who stole that card today would not have been able to make any charges because they wouldn't have had enough to time to create matching identification.
I hate people who steal like that. I hate that they steal what other people work so hard for, and have no remorse for doing it. You can't argue that they steal to survive, because last I checked, Toys R Us offered nothing that would fall under the "necessities of life" category.
At any rate, I am now preparing to go out and squeeze one last tanning session in, get my nails done, and go buy another doorknob. I got all my laundry done, so all that is left to do is pack, and prepare the house for Mom's visit. Mom is looking forward to staying at my house, but I did inform her of the cardinal rule of Case de Heather.
NO SEX IN MY BED UNLESS I AM IN IT!!
"That's okay," she said. "I'll just wait until you get home."
I shall wash, but shant ever be clean.
First, I met up with Trish and we had lunch at Applebees. From there, we parted ways and I made my way over to Zona Rosa where I did some more shopping for crap I thought I would need, but in all truthfulness, probably don't. While I was perusing through the underwear, I overheard the two girls working there making calls. Earlier in the day, one of sales girls had her credit card stolen as someone snuck into the back room and helped themselves. By the time she had realized it was stolen and called the CC company, the perps (there were three) had already made stops to Dicks, Barnes and Noble, and Toys R Us. I don't know how much they had charged, but the girl was freaking out.
I got me thinking...
Doesn't anyone bother to check ID anymore?? Any plastic I have has "CHECK ID" in black marker written on the spot where I am supposed to sign my name. Do you know how many times I have used it, and no has even bothered to ask...even after seeing that on the back of the card. And when they do ask, I almost feel like I need to thank them for asking.
There should be a rule. Stores who do not ask for identification will be responsible for the charge if that card turns out to be stolen. While this wouldn't prevent all credit card fraud, it would help decrease it. The skankmuffins who stole that card today would not have been able to make any charges because they wouldn't have had enough to time to create matching identification.
I hate people who steal like that. I hate that they steal what other people work so hard for, and have no remorse for doing it. You can't argue that they steal to survive, because last I checked, Toys R Us offered nothing that would fall under the "necessities of life" category.
At any rate, I am now preparing to go out and squeeze one last tanning session in, get my nails done, and go buy another doorknob. I got all my laundry done, so all that is left to do is pack, and prepare the house for Mom's visit. Mom is looking forward to staying at my house, but I did inform her of the cardinal rule of Case de Heather.
NO SEX IN MY BED UNLESS I AM IN IT!!
"That's okay," she said. "I'll just wait until you get home."
I shall wash, but shant ever be clean.
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Hump Day Blather
I got up late today because I didn't get to sleep until late last night. I bought an iPod last week, so I have been all about putting stuff on it. I bought the 30gig one, so I can put LOTS of stuff on it. Maybe I can toss a couple tv shows then I will have my own on-flight entertainment.
And so far, I have almost 3000 songs, mostly ripped from cd's I currently own and never listen to anymore.
So, I get up late and peek out the window to see more snow. I had no idea we were supposed to get it, but I'm happy to leave it behind come Friday. Of course, I still have to go out and get some last-minute things either this afternoon, or tomorrow. I still have to pack, and clean the house.
Last night, I was doing laundry at 10pm. Now, instead of the ceremonious Laundry day, I just go to the laundry room off the garage in my bare feet and pajamas, toss some clothes in, and turn the washer in. IT'S THAT SIMPLE!!!
So, I did just that. Only when I went to go back upstairs to the warm part of my house, I found that the door had locked behind me. Shit. I sat on the steps and tried to figure out what my course of action would be. Front door was locked. Back door was locked. No keys, not even to the car. No cell phone. I considered going to my neighbor's house at 10:30pm to ask if I could use their phone, to call my mother and have her come and let me back in...but I was in my pjs, no shoes, and it was butt-ass cold outside. Not to mention it was 10:30 at night.
Then it dawned on me. I have a crap-ton of handyman stuff in my basement, courtesy of The Boyfriend. Surely I could find something that I could use to break into my own house. A crowbar, a hammer, a battering ram...
I poked around and found something that looked as it might be able to do the trick...a rubber coated mallet. I took it to the door, eyeballed the doorknob. Then, I began to tap it. Then, I upgraded to hitting it. Then, I was full-on beating the piss out of an old doorknob, adding a Amazon woman war cry for good measure. After a couple really good swings that would make the Strongman Contest take notice, the doorknob, now bent in half, gave up it's hold on the door and the door popped open. I took my power drill and finished uninstalling the knob. It was a piece of crap and only had one key anyway.
So, a trip to Lowes will be in order before I leave. I'm going to have another key made to hide in the garage so this never has to happen again. If I don't get it installed, perhaps The Boyfriend (someday to be upgraded to Husband 3.0) can install it while I am away. He's going to be here building a new mantle for my fireplace, and he seems to enjoy all that handyman stuff.
Now, I must go and try to pack more than just a snorkel...which is the only thing that is taking space in my suitcase at this time.
And so far, I have almost 3000 songs, mostly ripped from cd's I currently own and never listen to anymore.
So, I get up late and peek out the window to see more snow. I had no idea we were supposed to get it, but I'm happy to leave it behind come Friday. Of course, I still have to go out and get some last-minute things either this afternoon, or tomorrow. I still have to pack, and clean the house.
Last night, I was doing laundry at 10pm. Now, instead of the ceremonious Laundry day, I just go to the laundry room off the garage in my bare feet and pajamas, toss some clothes in, and turn the washer in. IT'S THAT SIMPLE!!!
So, I did just that. Only when I went to go back upstairs to the warm part of my house, I found that the door had locked behind me. Shit. I sat on the steps and tried to figure out what my course of action would be. Front door was locked. Back door was locked. No keys, not even to the car. No cell phone. I considered going to my neighbor's house at 10:30pm to ask if I could use their phone, to call my mother and have her come and let me back in...but I was in my pjs, no shoes, and it was butt-ass cold outside. Not to mention it was 10:30 at night.
Then it dawned on me. I have a crap-ton of handyman stuff in my basement, courtesy of The Boyfriend. Surely I could find something that I could use to break into my own house. A crowbar, a hammer, a battering ram...
I poked around and found something that looked as it might be able to do the trick...a rubber coated mallet. I took it to the door, eyeballed the doorknob. Then, I began to tap it. Then, I upgraded to hitting it. Then, I was full-on beating the piss out of an old doorknob, adding a Amazon woman war cry for good measure. After a couple really good swings that would make the Strongman Contest take notice, the doorknob, now bent in half, gave up it's hold on the door and the door popped open. I took my power drill and finished uninstalling the knob. It was a piece of crap and only had one key anyway.
So, a trip to Lowes will be in order before I leave. I'm going to have another key made to hide in the garage so this never has to happen again. If I don't get it installed, perhaps The Boyfriend (someday to be upgraded to Husband 3.0) can install it while I am away. He's going to be here building a new mantle for my fireplace, and he seems to enjoy all that handyman stuff.
Now, I must go and try to pack more than just a snorkel...which is the only thing that is taking space in my suitcase at this time.
Nurse Follies: Beating a Dead Horse
I was somewhat disappointed to see that Barbaro got dead this week. It's not like I was one of those tards who sent bouquets of organic carrots and a Get Well card, and I had a global meltdown upon hearing the news which rendered me incapacitated for the rest of the day. But I was sort of hoping that after all that hard work, it wouldn't be in vain.
Even people with good insurance sometimes get the shaft. Someone I know went to MD Anderson for treatment. They accepted his insurance, and his family had to shell out thousands and thousands of dollars in addition to it, and the outcome was no better than if they would have just remained with their local specialists.
But, in the end, he got dead...going to the great Winners Circle in the Sky. Now, they can either cremate him and ceremoniously spray crop his ashes over some prestigious racetrack. Or they can just use a backhoe and plant him somewhere on his ranch, where thousands of people who have nothing better to do with their time can go and place flowers, balloons, and toy stuffed horses on his gravesite.
I can't really say I am heartbroken. When you think about it, this horse got better healthcare than most humans. Somewhere out there, someone without insurance is sick with something pretty awful. Unable to go to the hospital for care because they can't afford it. You should ask them how they feel about a dead horse.
The other day, I went and picked up my perscriptions, and the cost of my copay had doubled. One again, the morons in the Human Resources department fucked up my open enrollment and signed me up for the crappy health plan instead of the one I wanted.
Way to go, asshats!
On my way home, I thought about it. Paying almost $100 a month for drugs suck ass...but I can afford it (even though I can think of a million other things I could spend the money on...like socks). I'm one of the few fortunate ones. What about those who aren't so lucky? Fixed income, insurance so crappy that they may as well not have any, monthly med expenses that are out the wazoo. Somewhere out there, people, is someone who is making the choice between food to eat, and medications to keep them healthy. And speaking from my own observations at work, those people chose the food over the meds. I get to see them later when they are brought in to the hospital because the conditions their meds are supposed to treat, are staging a coup on their body. "Noncompliant" is the name they are given. Not because they want to be, but because they have no other choice.
Even people with good insurance sometimes get the shaft. Someone I know went to MD Anderson for treatment. They accepted his insurance, and his family had to shell out thousands and thousands of dollars in addition to it, and the outcome was no better than if they would have just remained with their local specialists.
Money rules medicine.
I don't have a solution to this problem. Maybe universal healthcare would work. It's an issue I will keep close tabs on this election. I really don't give a flying rats ass whether gays can marry or not when I think about major medical decisions made by some douchebag in an insurance office, and not the doctor providing the treatment.
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Make Me Pretty!
In one week, I will be leaving this cold-ass weather (today was't too bad, actually), and planting my ass on a cruise ship heading for 80 degree temps. I can smell the sunscreen already.
Feel free to envy me all you want.
In preparation for my big trip, I am turning the house upside down to find stuff I will need to take, buying new stuff when I can't find them, and most importantly, getting my hair done.
After a week or so of trying to get a hold of my hair dresser, she finally called me back. She had sold her business to two other girls working in the shop because she didn't want to deal with the stress of ownership. Then, the two girls turned around, stab her in the back, and gave her the boot. Whores!
So, Amy came to my house to do my hair. I can't complain. I got to wear my crappy, but comfy, lounge wear. Go barefoot. Get my hair done. All the while listening to the Margaritaville station on satellite.
Meanwhile, the neighbor kid comes over and asks if he can play with Sam in my backyard. I don't mind because it wears the dog out so he will just lay around the house for the rest of the night and leave the cat alone. The neighbor kid chases Sam around the yard, they play fetch, life is good, until something else catches his eye through my kitchen window...
A white lady with foil in her hair. A shit ton of foil. And the other lady who is applying the foil, well, she's covered in tattoos. As I am sitting on the stool, Amy and I both realize this 13 year old kid has stopped playing with the dog, and is just watching us through the kitchen window...and laughing.
I'm sure this will be a very animated tale at the family dinner table tonight.
Amy finishes the highlights and quick trim before departing. Now, I am basking in the glow of newly highlighted hair. I've visited the tanning salon a couple times now, so I look healthy. Not the pale, pasty girl from before.
I'm going to look smoking hot on this trip. Other people better take notice.
Feel free to envy me all you want.
In preparation for my big trip, I am turning the house upside down to find stuff I will need to take, buying new stuff when I can't find them, and most importantly, getting my hair done.
After a week or so of trying to get a hold of my hair dresser, she finally called me back. She had sold her business to two other girls working in the shop because she didn't want to deal with the stress of ownership. Then, the two girls turned around, stab her in the back, and gave her the boot. Whores!
So, Amy came to my house to do my hair. I can't complain. I got to wear my crappy, but comfy, lounge wear. Go barefoot. Get my hair done. All the while listening to the Margaritaville station on satellite.
Meanwhile, the neighbor kid comes over and asks if he can play with Sam in my backyard. I don't mind because it wears the dog out so he will just lay around the house for the rest of the night and leave the cat alone. The neighbor kid chases Sam around the yard, they play fetch, life is good, until something else catches his eye through my kitchen window...
A white lady with foil in her hair. A shit ton of foil. And the other lady who is applying the foil, well, she's covered in tattoos. As I am sitting on the stool, Amy and I both realize this 13 year old kid has stopped playing with the dog, and is just watching us through the kitchen window...and laughing.
I'm sure this will be a very animated tale at the family dinner table tonight.
Amy finishes the highlights and quick trim before departing. Now, I am basking in the glow of newly highlighted hair. I've visited the tanning salon a couple times now, so I look healthy. Not the pale, pasty girl from before.
I'm going to look smoking hot on this trip. Other people better take notice.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Nobody's Answering
With the whole move and stuff, I've experienced an influx of phone calls from numbers I don't even know. It never occurred to me why this was until the other day.
I changed numbers, so I would need to re-register on Missouri's Do-Not-Call List.
So, I did. However, it won't take effect until April 1. For the next 2 months, I have to sit through countless calls of assholes trying to sell me everything from carpet cleaning to banjo shows for little retarded kids. Swell.
I'm afraid to even answer the phone. We know they don't hear you the first ten times you say no. Maybe I could answer the phone and pretend I am in the middle of having sex. There's all kinds of shenanigans one can do to get even with telemarketers.
Suggestions welcomed.
I changed numbers, so I would need to re-register on Missouri's Do-Not-Call List.
So, I did. However, it won't take effect until April 1. For the next 2 months, I have to sit through countless calls of assholes trying to sell me everything from carpet cleaning to banjo shows for little retarded kids. Swell.
I'm afraid to even answer the phone. We know they don't hear you the first ten times you say no. Maybe I could answer the phone and pretend I am in the middle of having sex. There's all kinds of shenanigans one can do to get even with telemarketers.
Suggestions welcomed.
Adventures in Homebuying: The Dining Room
Okay, I know I promised to post some pics and stuff. So, here I am...posting pics and stuff.
This is the dining room as I bought it. Allow me to point out the butt-ass-ugly 80's light fixture. The entire dining room and kitchen was painted this very blah beige color. It wasn't until I started painting that I understood why. You see, the original color wasn't this. It was something so hideous, it pains me to even acknowledge it on this blog.
This is the dining room as I bought it. Allow me to point out the butt-ass-ugly 80's light fixture. The entire dining room and kitchen was painted this very blah beige color. It wasn't until I started painting that I understood why. You see, the original color wasn't this. It was something so hideous, it pains me to even acknowledge it on this blog.
I'm not one to dis on green, but what the hell were the previous owners thinking?? Lime green?!? Judging by the old color of the great room, and the current color of the hall bath, it is entirely possible they were colorblind.
Let me be the first to say that red is a horrible color to have to paint. Most colors, two coats will do...but not red. Four coats later, I am still finding spots I need to touch-up. I originally was going to paint the entire dining room red, but after doing the top half, I said "screw it" and painted the bottom half Sauteed Mushroom. After that, I painted the trim white, it was originally cream.
Then, moving day arrived and the movers moved my stuff into the dining room. My current table and three chairs is something I have had for a while. Sometime this year, I am going to have a new dining table and chairs built to match the china hutch.
Check out the new light fixture. It's brushed nickel, and doesn't remind me at all of mall bangs.
The Finished Product!
Sunday, January 21, 2007
Mom 3, Heather 0
Mom and the boyfriend came buy to drop off stuff at Heather's U Store It. I'm housing various items until June, and I get a new mower in exchange for it. I have a big backyard, so I can't complain. It's not like I have immediate plans for the basement.
Boyfriend pulls me aside and whips out this little white box.
Uh-oh.
Boyfriend opens said box to reveal a ring who's diamonds (more than one) are roughly the size of large grapefruits. I ask if the ring means what I think it means, and he answers to the affirmative, providing my mother gets a divorce. He then asks what I think and just shrug and give the very generic, "whatever makes her happy" response.
Mom calls later that night and wants to know why I didn't tell her about the ring (apparently he presented it to her over chimichangas at the Salty Iguana). I didn't know I was supposed to tell her, but she wants to know what I think. Again with the "whatever makes you happy" response. At this point, I don't have an opinion. Okay, maybe I do, but I am just too tired to share it. I don't think this is the response my mother is looking for, but it's pretty much the answer she is going to get. I just don't care as much as I probably should. You do your thing, and I'll do mine and everyone is happy.
Would it be bad if I hoped they just ran off somewhere and eloped? My brothers don't know...what are they going to think when they find out? Probably much the same way as I am...just realize she is a grown-up and can make her own decisions, shrug and move on with life.
So, this will make my mother's third marriage. His fifth. I guess at first you don't succeed...
All this has made me pretty skeptical about marriage. Maybe I won't do it at all because no one takes it seriously anymore. Kind of sad, actually.
Looks like I'm now going to have eleven step-brothers and sisters. Crap...I'm going to have to start sending out Christmas cards.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Nurse Follies: Download This!
With the revolution of technology, the world of medicine was bound to follow. Everything is tied to computers. Surgeries are done with robotic arms. We rely so heavily on technology that some people wonder if a machine will take over our jobs someday.
Unlikely. I can't imagine any hospital shelling out millions for a machine that wipes ass when nurses are still cheaper. I can't imagine a company designing such a robot. They would see it as a waste of money because, again, nurses are cheaper. Besides, wouldn't want to get shit on a multimillion dollar robot.
Yes, we are overworked, and underpaid. Oh sure, you can make over six figures doing what I do...but you've got to work 80 hours a week to do it. I don't know of any person that has that kind of intestinal fortitude. There's a reason we only work 3 days a week. Any more than that, the number of crazy nurses in psychiatric wards would grow exponentially. In case you haven't read, the number of dedicated psych beds are decreasing as specialized facilities/hospital wings are being closed. Can you imagine a world where thousands of crazy nurses are out roaming the streets? With the knowledge we possess, you should be breaking out into a cold sweat just thinking about it.
Why else do you think cops are so nice to us?
Back to my original point...health care and technology.
My workplace is gearing up to go live with all computerized charting. Actually, everything we do will somehow tied to computers...from medications, to procedures...everything. The idea that by going to all computerized stuff, it will eliminate all things paper, whereby decreasing the chance of breaches in patient privacy and blah, blah, blah. Today, they were having a vendor fair so we could go and inspect what the nerd herd, I mean, computer committee is looking at in terms of what to put in our hands. The items up for scrutiny were various laptops/tablets being pimped out by various companies, handheld devices, and staplers (I got a free one from one of the vendors).
They were also going to be giving away door prizes: two laptops, digital camera or two, and some golf equipment. Why else do you think I'd drag myself out of my warm house into the freezing ass cold? It certainly wasn't for the fruit and cheese platter they had for vendor attendees. (But the meatballs were rather tasty...)
So, I go. I am given a clipboard and a sheet of paper and I am supposed to go around to the various vendor stations to inspect the products, ask questions, and fill out a survey as to which ones I liked the best. After the first 5 laptops, they all started to look the same. Then, I come to the Panasonic people and they have this little laptop that is all dressed up like it's about to go camping...rubber bumpers and the whole nine yards. I, with two O.R. nurses remark that it looks like a sturdy little guy, and we are invited to drop it. The other nurses decline because they are candy-asses. I shrug, pick up the laptop, and give it a heave-ho to the floor, where it bounces a foot in the air, before landing with a clatter. The Panasonic guys are impressed. The nurses are mortified. The $4,000 laptop is still running, and it immediately goes to the top of my favorites list.
I go to another station where one nurse is closely examining another laptop. It's obvious she doesn't know a whole hell of a lot about computers because all she can bitch about is that the stylus pops out of the left side of the computer, and she's right handed. I roll my eyes and the company rep tries not to laugh out loud.
The last station I visit is the stapler lady. A older female MD is in the room, and doesn't even look at me, even though I said hello. Whatever. Some women docs (not all) have attitude against nurses...like they are trying to distance themselves so far from us, that they won't be confused for one of us. Heaven forbid a doctor gets mistaken for a nurse! You don't encounter these hateful women too often, but you do encounter them.
After an hour and a half of looking at computers, I leave with my free mini stapler, a water bottle, various pens and a sticker announcing to the world that I voted on my favorite computer. No one will find out who won the door prizes until after tomorrow because the fair ends tomorrow night.
If I win a golf club, I'm going to be pissed.
Unlikely. I can't imagine any hospital shelling out millions for a machine that wipes ass when nurses are still cheaper. I can't imagine a company designing such a robot. They would see it as a waste of money because, again, nurses are cheaper. Besides, wouldn't want to get shit on a multimillion dollar robot.
Yes, we are overworked, and underpaid. Oh sure, you can make over six figures doing what I do...but you've got to work 80 hours a week to do it. I don't know of any person that has that kind of intestinal fortitude. There's a reason we only work 3 days a week. Any more than that, the number of crazy nurses in psychiatric wards would grow exponentially. In case you haven't read, the number of dedicated psych beds are decreasing as specialized facilities/hospital wings are being closed. Can you imagine a world where thousands of crazy nurses are out roaming the streets? With the knowledge we possess, you should be breaking out into a cold sweat just thinking about it.
Why else do you think cops are so nice to us?
Back to my original point...health care and technology.
My workplace is gearing up to go live with all computerized charting. Actually, everything we do will somehow tied to computers...from medications, to procedures...everything. The idea that by going to all computerized stuff, it will eliminate all things paper, whereby decreasing the chance of breaches in patient privacy and blah, blah, blah. Today, they were having a vendor fair so we could go and inspect what the nerd herd, I mean, computer committee is looking at in terms of what to put in our hands. The items up for scrutiny were various laptops/tablets being pimped out by various companies, handheld devices, and staplers (I got a free one from one of the vendors).
They were also going to be giving away door prizes: two laptops, digital camera or two, and some golf equipment. Why else do you think I'd drag myself out of my warm house into the freezing ass cold? It certainly wasn't for the fruit and cheese platter they had for vendor attendees. (But the meatballs were rather tasty...)
So, I go. I am given a clipboard and a sheet of paper and I am supposed to go around to the various vendor stations to inspect the products, ask questions, and fill out a survey as to which ones I liked the best. After the first 5 laptops, they all started to look the same. Then, I come to the Panasonic people and they have this little laptop that is all dressed up like it's about to go camping...rubber bumpers and the whole nine yards. I, with two O.R. nurses remark that it looks like a sturdy little guy, and we are invited to drop it. The other nurses decline because they are candy-asses. I shrug, pick up the laptop, and give it a heave-ho to the floor, where it bounces a foot in the air, before landing with a clatter. The Panasonic guys are impressed. The nurses are mortified. The $4,000 laptop is still running, and it immediately goes to the top of my favorites list.
I go to another station where one nurse is closely examining another laptop. It's obvious she doesn't know a whole hell of a lot about computers because all she can bitch about is that the stylus pops out of the left side of the computer, and she's right handed. I roll my eyes and the company rep tries not to laugh out loud.
The last station I visit is the stapler lady. A older female MD is in the room, and doesn't even look at me, even though I said hello. Whatever. Some women docs (not all) have attitude against nurses...like they are trying to distance themselves so far from us, that they won't be confused for one of us. Heaven forbid a doctor gets mistaken for a nurse! You don't encounter these hateful women too often, but you do encounter them.
After an hour and a half of looking at computers, I leave with my free mini stapler, a water bottle, various pens and a sticker announcing to the world that I voted on my favorite computer. No one will find out who won the door prizes until after tomorrow because the fair ends tomorrow night.
If I win a golf club, I'm going to be pissed.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Another Bad Week Off to a Good Start
Working my fourth night, overtime, having only 4 hours of sleep, and I was swindled by a secretary to do it. I can't wait to call her at 2am and ask where the paperclips are.
This morning, I drove home, and the snow was coming down in big, fat flakes. Here comes the blizzard! I stopped by the store and just decided to do all my grocery shopping because I figured I would be holed up in my house for the next four days.
After driving home, putting away all my crap, and taking a quick "wash the germs off me" shower, I finally settled into bed around 10:30.
Around 2:30, a friend stops by because he happened to be in the neighborhood and wanted to see the house. Midway through the grand tour, he realizes that he's already seen this house, back in April, when he was looking to buy one. A quick visit, and he departs. I peek outside and see that the doomsday blizzard that was predicted turned out to be just the same twelve snowflakes blowing around. How typical.
A little after 3pm, the secretary from my floor calls, telling me that a nurse has called in, leaving the night crew in dire straits, and can I come in? I tell her that I can come in at 11pm. She tells me they are really short. So, I cave and agree to come in at 7pm. From there, I go back to bed thinking I may get to squeeze in an hour nap before I have to get ready for work. Whatever.
Mom then calls. Can Boyfriend bring stuff over Wednesday night to store in my basement? I agree because he's giving me a $400 lawnmower that's never been used in exchange for a few months storage space, and it has already been decided that I'm easy when it comes to appliances and power tools. Mom then blathers about him taking to her Barbados in May on a yacht because he's going to be teaching some people how to scuba. My only words of wisdom: Don't fall off the boat.
I barely close my eyes when the alarm goes off. Defeated, I shower, warm something in the oven for a quick dinner, get dressed and come to work. I enter the floor and check the staffing to see who called in. Instead of the situation painted to me by the secretary, the picture I see isn't nearly as desperate, and I could have come in at 11pm without causing any hardship to my coworkers. I give the secretary the finger and announce to the entire floor she is now on my "list".
To top it off, I get an email from my realtor: a water bill still in the name of the real estate company that sold the house, and a notice telling me that they are going to turn the water off Tuesday. When I closed on the house, I called all the utility companies to have everything transferred to my name: gas, water, electricity. The lady at the water company didn't strike me as being a mental giant, but she assured me that she had all the information needed and would get it passed along to the person who takes care of such matters. This didn't happen.
So now, I have to try to locate someone with a half a brain working in the Water Department of Kansas City (and considering it is City Hall, that might take all day) tomorrow, and rip them a new one. I'm going to be tired, cranky, and primed for delivering ass-chewings in the morning. If I did my job as crappy as they do theirs, all my patients would croak. Every. Single. Night.
But what can you expect, they are products of the Kansas City, Missouri School District.
This morning, I drove home, and the snow was coming down in big, fat flakes. Here comes the blizzard! I stopped by the store and just decided to do all my grocery shopping because I figured I would be holed up in my house for the next four days.
After driving home, putting away all my crap, and taking a quick "wash the germs off me" shower, I finally settled into bed around 10:30.
Around 2:30, a friend stops by because he happened to be in the neighborhood and wanted to see the house. Midway through the grand tour, he realizes that he's already seen this house, back in April, when he was looking to buy one. A quick visit, and he departs. I peek outside and see that the doomsday blizzard that was predicted turned out to be just the same twelve snowflakes blowing around. How typical.
A little after 3pm, the secretary from my floor calls, telling me that a nurse has called in, leaving the night crew in dire straits, and can I come in? I tell her that I can come in at 11pm. She tells me they are really short. So, I cave and agree to come in at 7pm. From there, I go back to bed thinking I may get to squeeze in an hour nap before I have to get ready for work. Whatever.
Mom then calls. Can Boyfriend bring stuff over Wednesday night to store in my basement? I agree because he's giving me a $400 lawnmower that's never been used in exchange for a few months storage space, and it has already been decided that I'm easy when it comes to appliances and power tools. Mom then blathers about him taking to her Barbados in May on a yacht because he's going to be teaching some people how to scuba. My only words of wisdom: Don't fall off the boat.
I barely close my eyes when the alarm goes off. Defeated, I shower, warm something in the oven for a quick dinner, get dressed and come to work. I enter the floor and check the staffing to see who called in. Instead of the situation painted to me by the secretary, the picture I see isn't nearly as desperate, and I could have come in at 11pm without causing any hardship to my coworkers. I give the secretary the finger and announce to the entire floor she is now on my "list".
To top it off, I get an email from my realtor: a water bill still in the name of the real estate company that sold the house, and a notice telling me that they are going to turn the water off Tuesday. When I closed on the house, I called all the utility companies to have everything transferred to my name: gas, water, electricity. The lady at the water company didn't strike me as being a mental giant, but she assured me that she had all the information needed and would get it passed along to the person who takes care of such matters. This didn't happen.
So now, I have to try to locate someone with a half a brain working in the Water Department of Kansas City (and considering it is City Hall, that might take all day) tomorrow, and rip them a new one. I'm going to be tired, cranky, and primed for delivering ass-chewings in the morning. If I did my job as crappy as they do theirs, all my patients would croak. Every. Single. Night.
But what can you expect, they are products of the Kansas City, Missouri School District.
Friday, January 12, 2007
A Fine Ending for a Fine Week
Well, it would appear that winter has finally caught up with us...and it sucks.
I had planned on leaving for work earlier than usual, stopping by the store first for a can of Reddi Whip. Paul called around five pm and insisted that I leave for work right then and there. Reddi Whip be damned.
I left closer to 5:30pm, only stopping at the gas station to fill up the car in the event I got stranded. They didn't carry Reddi Whip.
I-70 hadn't even been close to being cleared, much less salted. The MoDot trucks (five of them) parked on the side of the highway, probably having donuts and drinking coffee. Meanwhile, traffic is moving at a crawl, and sliding all over the place. I almost bought it on the Manchester Bridge, then again at the Jackson curve. My top speed was just under 30mph. Some SUV's would blow past me like I was sitting there in park. I did notice most of their plates were from Johnson county. That figures. Dumbasses.
I made it to work, and for the better part of the night, we're golden. Then, I get a patient who is, for lack of a better way of saying it, "circling the drain". I can only hope the patient's family gets here before the patient transfers to the Eternal Care Center. That's what we call a Negative Patient Outcome, people. Ideally, I'd like them to hang around and wait to expire after shift change because I still suck at filling out the paperwork, but my spider sense tells me to get my pen ready.
I spoke with Paul earlier to tell him I made it to work okay (because he's secretly in love with me and worries about me more than he would like to admit), and he was celebrating in his achievement of home made refried beans. I've never made homemade refried beans. I've never known anyone to make homemade refried beans. To me, it's just easier to open a can and scoop them out. But I'm not a hater, and I can't begrudge anyone who wants to delve into making refried beans from scratch. I get to sample the finished product this weekend as he brings them to work.
It's arctic-ass cold outside. I'm so excited for the drive home. Hopefully, the roads will be in better shape because I have no desire to bunk at the hospital for the day. I don't think the residents will be too willing to share their bunks with the nurses...but then again, I could be mistaken. From what I understand, some of the residents have already bunked with some of the nurses.
Be safe, and keep warm!
I had planned on leaving for work earlier than usual, stopping by the store first for a can of Reddi Whip. Paul called around five pm and insisted that I leave for work right then and there. Reddi Whip be damned.
I left closer to 5:30pm, only stopping at the gas station to fill up the car in the event I got stranded. They didn't carry Reddi Whip.
I-70 hadn't even been close to being cleared, much less salted. The MoDot trucks (five of them) parked on the side of the highway, probably having donuts and drinking coffee. Meanwhile, traffic is moving at a crawl, and sliding all over the place. I almost bought it on the Manchester Bridge, then again at the Jackson curve. My top speed was just under 30mph. Some SUV's would blow past me like I was sitting there in park. I did notice most of their plates were from Johnson county. That figures. Dumbasses.
I made it to work, and for the better part of the night, we're golden. Then, I get a patient who is, for lack of a better way of saying it, "circling the drain". I can only hope the patient's family gets here before the patient transfers to the Eternal Care Center. That's what we call a Negative Patient Outcome, people. Ideally, I'd like them to hang around and wait to expire after shift change because I still suck at filling out the paperwork, but my spider sense tells me to get my pen ready.
I spoke with Paul earlier to tell him I made it to work okay (because he's secretly in love with me and worries about me more than he would like to admit), and he was celebrating in his achievement of home made refried beans. I've never made homemade refried beans. I've never known anyone to make homemade refried beans. To me, it's just easier to open a can and scoop them out. But I'm not a hater, and I can't begrudge anyone who wants to delve into making refried beans from scratch. I get to sample the finished product this weekend as he brings them to work.
It's arctic-ass cold outside. I'm so excited for the drive home. Hopefully, the roads will be in better shape because I have no desire to bunk at the hospital for the day. I don't think the residents will be too willing to share their bunks with the nurses...but then again, I could be mistaken. From what I understand, some of the residents have already bunked with some of the nurses.
Be safe, and keep warm!
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Back On!
I'm offline for a week, and Kansas City goes to pot. What. The. Hell. I'm inclined to think that all the news I missed (because I get all my news online), is a direct correlation to the apocalypse.
Kansas City maybe getting a hockey team? Didn't we have one already? Didn't they suck (just like every other team in Kansas City)? Does the mere fact that hockey will be playing in a brand new arena make people want to come see them more than they did when they played in an old one?
Hockey? Zzzzz. At least KC is being consistent with the bringing in of mediocre teams. The Penguins should feel right at home here...
And it's not that I am a fair-weather fan. I think they are all a bunch of over-priced whiners all the time.
All week I have been wondering what the hell happened to 97.3. Used to play music, now they are a sports talk channel. I liked 97.3, they played a wider variety than 98.9 did...who only played interviews with D-list celebs, Buck Cherry and pandered to the Meth Crowd.
Looks like it's back to satellite radio.
Kansas City maybe getting a hockey team? Didn't we have one already? Didn't they suck (just like every other team in Kansas City)? Does the mere fact that hockey will be playing in a brand new arena make people want to come see them more than they did when they played in an old one?
Hockey? Zzzzz. At least KC is being consistent with the bringing in of mediocre teams. The Penguins should feel right at home here...
And it's not that I am a fair-weather fan. I think they are all a bunch of over-priced whiners all the time.
All week I have been wondering what the hell happened to 97.3. Used to play music, now they are a sports talk channel. I liked 97.3, they played a wider variety than 98.9 did...who only played interviews with D-list celebs, Buck Cherry and pandered to the Meth Crowd.
Looks like it's back to satellite radio.
The Things We Leave Behind
All weekend, all I could think about was making a pot of potato soup. I don't mean to brag, but I make awesome potato soup. This was going to be a special event!
I bought all the things I would need for my special potato soup, get everything home, begin to assemble my preparation tools. I reach for my trusty, lifetime guaranteed Pampered Chef stockpot, and come face to face with the horrible realization that I accidentally left the stockpot back at the apartment...along with two saucepans of the same maker, and a Fiestaware dutch oven.
I made a point to remember the stupid breadmaker, but forgot the very things that make my life worth living.
After my global anxiety attack, I calmed myself down by telling myself I would call the apartment complex in the morning and inquire about my cookware. I know for a fact that they don't even begin to turn over vacated apartments until months after the tenant has left. The River Oaks apartment complex is that crappy (don't ever move there). Not to mention they are going to have to completely gut the place oweing to all the water damage their neglected leaks had caused.
So, I called the management office first thing in the morning. The lady who answered the phone got all hateful with me because I moved out in the first place...even though I went through the appropriate channels to do so: gave them the required noticed, cleaned the apartment, and was an overall model tenant (the police were never called to my place...NOT ONCE!). How dare I buy a house and not want to live in a crappy apartment complex that has seemingly turned Section 8!
In a nutshell, I don't get my cookware back. After getting different stories about it, she finally settled on the "we already cleaned out your apartment" excuse. Bullshit. My butt-ass expensive cookware is now in the hands of some peon who has NO IDEA what they have in their possession. Do they know how I had to practically whore myself out to people to buy kitchen gadgets so I could get those pots and pans for HALF their purchase price?!?
It has made me sick. SICK. SICK. SICK!! I will replace them, there is no question, but the thought of how much money I am going to have to shell out for them...again. I'm going to have to host a Pampered Chef party so I can get them at a discount. That's also the part that makes me sick.
It doesn't help matters that Paul likes to remind me about my loss whenever he wants to see me have a nervous breakdown about it...which is almost daily.
Not a red-letter week for Heather...and it's only mid-week.
I'm still waiting for my new modem, which should arrive either Wednesday or Thursday. Being without the internet has been terrible. Especially since now I am getting down to final planning of vacation details, and I still have a ton of crap to do before I go. Even the idea of getting ready for vacation is stressing me out, and I am blaming the move for it.
I just want to curl up in the fetal position somewhere and nurse a really big Dr. Pepper in crushed ice.
I bought all the things I would need for my special potato soup, get everything home, begin to assemble my preparation tools. I reach for my trusty, lifetime guaranteed Pampered Chef stockpot, and come face to face with the horrible realization that I accidentally left the stockpot back at the apartment...along with two saucepans of the same maker, and a Fiestaware dutch oven.
I made a point to remember the stupid breadmaker, but forgot the very things that make my life worth living.
After my global anxiety attack, I calmed myself down by telling myself I would call the apartment complex in the morning and inquire about my cookware. I know for a fact that they don't even begin to turn over vacated apartments until months after the tenant has left. The River Oaks apartment complex is that crappy (don't ever move there). Not to mention they are going to have to completely gut the place oweing to all the water damage their neglected leaks had caused.
So, I called the management office first thing in the morning. The lady who answered the phone got all hateful with me because I moved out in the first place...even though I went through the appropriate channels to do so: gave them the required noticed, cleaned the apartment, and was an overall model tenant (the police were never called to my place...NOT ONCE!). How dare I buy a house and not want to live in a crappy apartment complex that has seemingly turned Section 8!
In a nutshell, I don't get my cookware back. After getting different stories about it, she finally settled on the "we already cleaned out your apartment" excuse. Bullshit. My butt-ass expensive cookware is now in the hands of some peon who has NO IDEA what they have in their possession. Do they know how I had to practically whore myself out to people to buy kitchen gadgets so I could get those pots and pans for HALF their purchase price?!?
It has made me sick. SICK. SICK. SICK!! I will replace them, there is no question, but the thought of how much money I am going to have to shell out for them...again. I'm going to have to host a Pampered Chef party so I can get them at a discount. That's also the part that makes me sick.
It doesn't help matters that Paul likes to remind me about my loss whenever he wants to see me have a nervous breakdown about it...which is almost daily.
Not a red-letter week for Heather...and it's only mid-week.
I'm still waiting for my new modem, which should arrive either Wednesday or Thursday. Being without the internet has been terrible. Especially since now I am getting down to final planning of vacation details, and I still have a ton of crap to do before I go. Even the idea of getting ready for vacation is stressing me out, and I am blaming the move for it.
I just want to curl up in the fetal position somewhere and nurse a really big Dr. Pepper in crushed ice.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
Here's to a New Year
Forgive my tardiness in blogging. I assembled my computer this week, only to find that the modem crapped out somewhere between the apartment and the house. Now, I am just waiting for my new modem, which should arrive sometime next week.
New events...
I have satellite! And being able to watch real TV is everything I thought it would be. Thus far, my happy ass is camped out whenever Law and Order is on. SVU is my favorite, but Criminal Intent ranks a close second.
New Year's Eve went off without anything too terribly exciting happening...unless, of course, you don't count your mother drunk dialing you as exciting. She did...twice.
Me: Hello?
Mom: (slurring) How's my baby girl?
Me: Uhhh...fine.
Mom: Have you got everything unpacked?
Me: No...that's what I am doing right now.
Mom: Is the fridge still in the garage?
Me: Yes.
Mom: I'll help you move it.
Me: You can't move a fridge up a flight of stairs.
Mom: Yes I can! (hiccup)
Me: Have you been drinking?
Mom: (proudly) Yes!
Me: What?
Mom: Beer
Me: How much have you drank?
Mom: Hold on...
Me: (hearing the sound of things being tossed around) What are you doing?
Mom: I'm looking in the garbage can to see how many beers I drank. (pause) Nine!!
Me: (heavy sigh)
Mom blathers incoherently for about five minutes before I begin to somewhat understand what she is saying.
Mom: My emotions are just all jumbled right now!
Me: (flatly) Why are your emotions all jumbled?
Mom: Because I fell in love again!!!
Me: (groaning somewhat loudly) Okay.
Mom: Yeah, I know you say "okay", and I know you are a strong person, and not weak and stuff...but someday you will be my age...
Me: Okay.
Mom: You'll see.
I cite the huge amount of work I have to do and beg off the phone, but not before Mom promises (threatens?) to call me after midnight to wish me Happy New Year. I secretly curse Paul for bailing on me in favor of a family gathering. As promised, she called again five minutes after midnight, and slurs her Happy New Year greeting.
Obviously, the highlight of my evening.
I didn't make any resolutions this year...unless you count unpacking, and other general home improvement stuff. I hung my very first set of blinds on Monday. It took me all day to do it, but the other three went up in a relatively short amount of time considering I knew what I was doing by then. The refrigerator has also made it's way to the kitchen with the help of three strong guys. While I measured the height and width of said fridge before I bought it, I failed to check the depth, and now that ginormous beast of ice and cold sticks out a good six inches, and somewhat blocks the doorway into the kitchen. Anyone exceeding 300lbs will have to get to the kitchen through the dining room. I should post a disclaimer for that in the house.
Now, I have to get out of unpacking mode, and get into vacation mode. I have to start pulling out clothes for warm weather, start packing, tan, and finish booking shore excursions.
I really, really need this vacation.
New events...
I have satellite! And being able to watch real TV is everything I thought it would be. Thus far, my happy ass is camped out whenever Law and Order is on. SVU is my favorite, but Criminal Intent ranks a close second.
New Year's Eve went off without anything too terribly exciting happening...unless, of course, you don't count your mother drunk dialing you as exciting. She did...twice.
Me: Hello?
Mom: (slurring) How's my baby girl?
Me: Uhhh...fine.
Mom: Have you got everything unpacked?
Me: No...that's what I am doing right now.
Mom: Is the fridge still in the garage?
Me: Yes.
Mom: I'll help you move it.
Me: You can't move a fridge up a flight of stairs.
Mom: Yes I can! (hiccup)
Me: Have you been drinking?
Mom: (proudly) Yes!
Me: What?
Mom: Beer
Me: How much have you drank?
Mom: Hold on...
Me: (hearing the sound of things being tossed around) What are you doing?
Mom: I'm looking in the garbage can to see how many beers I drank. (pause) Nine!!
Me: (heavy sigh)
Mom blathers incoherently for about five minutes before I begin to somewhat understand what she is saying.
Mom: My emotions are just all jumbled right now!
Me: (flatly) Why are your emotions all jumbled?
Mom: Because I fell in love again!!!
Me: (groaning somewhat loudly) Okay.
Mom: Yeah, I know you say "okay", and I know you are a strong person, and not weak and stuff...but someday you will be my age...
Me: Okay.
Mom: You'll see.
I cite the huge amount of work I have to do and beg off the phone, but not before Mom promises (threatens?) to call me after midnight to wish me Happy New Year. I secretly curse Paul for bailing on me in favor of a family gathering. As promised, she called again five minutes after midnight, and slurs her Happy New Year greeting.
Obviously, the highlight of my evening.
I didn't make any resolutions this year...unless you count unpacking, and other general home improvement stuff. I hung my very first set of blinds on Monday. It took me all day to do it, but the other three went up in a relatively short amount of time considering I knew what I was doing by then. The refrigerator has also made it's way to the kitchen with the help of three strong guys. While I measured the height and width of said fridge before I bought it, I failed to check the depth, and now that ginormous beast of ice and cold sticks out a good six inches, and somewhat blocks the doorway into the kitchen. Anyone exceeding 300lbs will have to get to the kitchen through the dining room. I should post a disclaimer for that in the house.
Now, I have to get out of unpacking mode, and get into vacation mode. I have to start pulling out clothes for warm weather, start packing, tan, and finish booking shore excursions.
I really, really need this vacation.
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