Well, here I am again, pausing for a moment in the whirlwind of activity that is my life. It sounds rather exciting, put like that, doesn't it? It sounds like the amazing transformations occurring on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition (I adore that show more than you know). Thousands of excited, altruistic people bustling about creating a better tomorrow for the waifs, freaks and sad-sacks of the week. And I mean that in the very nicest possible way. Or maybe it sounds more along the lines of reruns of This Old House, where some absolutely exquisite Victorian is being refurbished to the glory she truly deserves. Where are all these home improvement references coming from? The world may never know. Wherever they're from, the whirlwind of activity in my life is not going to wind me up in an exquisitely cool new (or old) home. Nope. So then where, you ask, is my whirlwind going to place me? Well, how 'bout you meet me here in a month because guess what?! I'm not going anywhere! That's right pals, my whirlwind is going to carry me up to the very edge of a nervous breakdown and back again. Essentially, it's taking me nowhere.

Perhaps it's time to elaborate a touch. I basically have two full time jobs, work and school. Unfortunately it isn't quite that simple though because I work more than full time at work, so really it's like a job and a half. And then there's school. School where I'm just reaching the point of giving up hope of continuing my 4.0 this semester.

Now you may be wondering why on earth I work so much in addition to a full load of somewhat heavy (or at least labor intensive) classes (trigonometry, abnormal psychology, American Sign Language, and english). Good question, you're very astute. I work so much because I'm in a financial hole, and recently my car has decided to start falling apart at the seams. The really fascinating bit of it all is that regardless of how much I work, how exhausted, stressed out, and sick I make myself, these two financial constraints never improve. Niiiice.

As for school, if I don't make the grades I want to, then this semester of toil and misery is for nothing as well. And it's looking like it's leaning in that general direction.

So to recap, I'm killing my mental and physical well-being through:
a.) Work-that's getting me nowhere
b.) School-that's getting me nowhere

Special!



In other, much less bitter news....

-My friend Stacy Without an E was telling me tonight that he's itchy. He said some people are smelly, some people are dirty, he is itchy. So naturally I asked what I am. He says "you're Joolie." Sweet. What a damn good answer!


-Jorge told me I should be happy because someone loves me. It isn't true, but I said "no one loves me!" He's like "that isn't true, I love you." *sigh*

-My little gas station pal formally introduced himself to me tonight. His name is Carlos, and he has a nifty piercing or two. I love that name, I always have. I think if I ever have a son I may name him that, Carlos Vincent or something like that.

*Tonight we got the call we've been waiting for. Mae's husband Bob called and let us know that she had passed away half an hour before. Safe travels, Mae, we'll miss you.

I hate everything

I had a stupid day. Actually, I believe hellish is more the word I'm thinking of. This absolutely revolting, obnoxious patient yelled at me, threatened to punch me, and then went and complained to my boss threatening to file a grievance with our corporate offices. Why, you ask? Because I followed a procedure he's been warned of like 17,000,ooo times by myself and others. Fabulous. It was stressful as hell. It gave me a headache, of course, so I was just trying to stay afloat the rest of the night, and I did my best damnit. At the end of the night, to top off such a smashing day I was told that everyone had decided I had Jaynightis. Well that's just fucking lovely, really. Jaynightis is a term we came up with for someone who is lazy, incompetent, and just an all around pain in the ass to work with. It's named after the original. Look, I like to fuck with people as much or more than the average person. Probably more. But you know what?! I still have compassion. I can give people hell all day, but as soon as I see that they're genuinely sad, stressed out, or otherwise distraught I stop tormenting them. In fact, egads, I will sometimes even try to help. Crazy, I know. I do this because I know what it's like to hurt, to suffer, to stress. I know what it's like to feel alone and miserable. And so I try to help other people feel like they aren't completely alone sometimes, and I certainly try to not torture them when they feel like hell. Well evidently others aren't into that. Evidently I am alone. Haha!

One of the patients that witnessed the aforementioned fiasco is my friend Jorge. I love Jorge, I really do. At first I laughed it off. Cruel, perhaps, but it was funny to see a stupid old man really flip out, especially when it was his fault, it had been coming to him for a long time. Jorge's like "are you okay?" And I was like "heck yeah I'm okay, I'm great!" Later though when I found out how screwed I might be I wasn't so okay. It was my turn to be upset. Sweet Jorge kept saying "ohhh, you poor girl..." Yup. And then he asked what I was going to do...

-"Ohhh God, I'm going to off myself" I said sadly...

-worried look from Jorge....

-"nooo, I'm joking. I'll just go home and cry"

-"oh, okay. Well I'll go there and hold you"

Has someone ever said exactly what you wanted to hear from them, but you knew it couldn't be? I mean almost like they knew exactly what you needed and wanted in the depths of your heart, and they offered it? Well, it woulda been nice. But ultimately here I am and it sucks. I still love him though for making more of an effort in a few moments to care for me than anyone but my family (that includes Rachel) does in a year. I wish things were different there...

NEVERMIND!!! It's called Ambient Luxe, and the song I'm thinking of is called Bosse Per Due. Smashing. Found it on the Starbucks site, God love 'em. You know? Ever since K and that first trip to Tahoe, I don't care if Starbucks is evil and soulless. It's like the music, sometimes the quality creates a loophole. TY anyway K! That song is like the Lambie theme song, huh?

starbucks driving music

Okay....since we've established a periodic lapse in the no communication policy through blogging (we never were good at following rules, were we?) can K do me a huuuuge favor and tell me the name of the Starbucks driving music we used to listen to? You know the song I mean? There were a few, but one especially... What cd was that? I know you know what I mean... Thank you....

I got the 80's cd finally...ahhh driving music....

I know, I know, I'm breaking all my own rules...but sometimes terribly important things such as music can create temporary loopholes.

One part of me just wants to tell you everything
One part just needs the quiet
And if I'm lonely here, I'm lonely here
And on the telephone
You offer reassurance
I will not take these things for granted
How can I hold the part of me that only you can carry
It needs a strength I haven't found
But if it's frightening, I'll bear the cold
And on the telephone
You offer warm asylum
I'm listening
Flowers in the garden
Laughter in the hall
Children in the park
I will not take these things for granted
Anymore
To crawl inside the wire and feel something near me
To feel this accepting
That it is lonely here, but not alone
And on the telephone
You offer visions dancing
I'm listening
Music in the bedroom
Laughter in the hall
Dive into the ocean
Singing by the fire
Running through the forest
And standing in the wind
In rolling canyons
I will not take these things for granted

Jenkeys!!!

I seem to have forgotten to add the most delicious quote. And I have to add a Craigism while I'm here...

"...I started a list of things that were wrong with me a long time ago. And I kept adding to it.....I've spent thousands of dollars...trying to look prettier, because I grew up believing that pretty girls had happier lives. I'd be a lot happier now if I had that time and money back."
Ilene Beckerman

"oh we sooo know we don't need anyone else to complete us..."
Craig a.k.a. Sweety-Ums no. 467

Bunny Butt Day

I love blogs. It's always something of a thrill to see a new post on your favorites. Some blogs are a way of reaching out to someone you are no longer able to communicate with directly. It isn't the only purpose, presumably, but it makes its way in every now and then. Sometimes the person you're reaching out to knows exactly what you're doing. And sometimes they want to respond, but know better. My blog is generally not like that, it rarely addresses one person. But once in a while I noncommittally respond to the one who reaches out. I just started to, but I changed my mind.

Ugh. I sooo completely don't want to go to work tomorrow. You know what I'd like? I'd like to wake up and find that the requisite patch o' ground had miraculously (and silently) tilled itself overnight while I slept. I'd wake up, drink my tea or coffee, depending on my mood, then head outside, plant the much hallowed heirloom tomatoes, plant the daisy and morning glory seeds, shower away the icky dirt, collect the dog and the one I'm smitten with, and head for the beach. Later, we'd all head back home, curl up on the couch (minus the dog I think), and perhaps watch a movie. Nice, quiet, mellow.

*sigh*

So usually I pull my hair back on top or put it in pigtails...anything to get it out of my face. Argh. But since I've been putting it back it's straightened out some. So today since I had nothing horrific to attend to, I left it down. I delight in informing you, pals, it's still just as curly as before. Yes, we can all rest easy tonight. Yeah, yeah, I know no one cares, but I like the curls, I just don't want 'em in my eyes. The good news of all of this is that my hair is finally grown out again to the point of functionality. Smashing! In fact, I think it's nearly as long as it was when I got my a-line before. I thought that was rather on the cute side. I remember that day so clearly. Fabulous haircuts like that were hard to get in Oakdale. I still love that town, I'd move back if Annie wouldn't hang me. Bitch. Sorry, that's another blog. Anywho. Oakdale had one really nice salon, in a small town sorta way. It was called Pamela's I think. There was this absolutely adorable girl who cut my hair once, she was of the generation that understood styles existed beyond bleach bottle blond and fluffy perms. The girl even had tattoos I think. Yikes. Well, when I went for the a-line, she was on maternity leave. So I had to go to another place, Pamela's was very hard to get into. And it took I swear to you three hours to get the new chick to understand what exactly a sharp a-line was. Truthfully, she never did. Some young kid came over and did her very best, which was good enough. I remember thinking, how weird! This must be what the midwest is like!

The cut was cute as hell, I'd rather like to get one now, actually. Sadly though I think I'm going to keep going as planned. God, I can't wait 'til I can braid it again, none of you'll ever see my hair down again.

Haha! A blog almost entirely about my hair! (Or was it? *raises eyebrow mysteriously*) Is anyone still here?! *crickets chirping* Hrmm...evidently not. ACK! I just said hrmm!!! I'm going to go email Gregor Dahhlink!

music: Funeral March, Chopin

My mind is in a dreamy state...it has been nearly all evening really. In an attempt to come back to the sad state of reality that is my life, here I sit blogging and listening to Beck sing "Loser." Ohhhhh yes, songs of my reckless youth. Which album was it? It was Mellow Gold re-mixed basically. Ohhh it was fabulous. Rachel, you should know, although how either of us could remember after the days and nights spent in the paint shed revelling in...well we remember that part anyway. ;-) We used to listen to The Presidents of the United States of America, Beck, White Zombie, all sorts of smashing stuff. Ohhh, those were the good old days. You know? I can still smell the paint shed and feel how cold it got at night. Odd that I remember it so vividly, huh?

Haha, amazing what a Beck song can bring back, huh? Remembering those times, it seems like a whole other life. Another person, even. No cares, nothing dragging me down, no pain searing the soul, not yet.

So I'm reading Anais Nin, did I already blog about it? She is amazing. It seems she had some lezzie tendencies. Fascinating....

She is an absolutely exquisite, lovely author. Everything she says is quoteable, and she somehow manages to capture me in single lines. Incredible.


So we said goodbye to Mae last night. *sigh* It was very difficult. I was proud of myself, I managed to relay a message from a coworker without crying. This nurse told me to tell her she'd miss her, to wish her a good journey, and that she'd see her again. What a beautiful, tragic message to relay. It was well received, and it was an honor taking care of her for the last time. It was really an amazing experience. She's so at peace, so surrounded by love. We all hugged and kissed her goodbye, said all we wanted to say, and then she left. We nearly all wound up outside smoking, but we got through it.

I told Mae I'd see her when I see her. Marisol said she hoped she'd get there. Mae smiled up at her and said "you know dear? all you have to do is believe." And you know what? She's right.

Here's to Mae...
*raises the cosmopolitan I wish I had*

music: Omaha, Counting Crows

and we're back to the unrequited love...

Games, changes and fears
When will they go from here
When will they stop
I believe that fate has brought us here
And we should be together
But we’re not
I play it off but I'm dreamin of you
I'll keep it cool but I'm fiendin.
I try to say goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near
Goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it, it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near

I may appear to be free
But I'm just a prisoner of your love
I may seem alright and smile when you leave
But my smiles are just a front
I play it off but I'm dreamin of you
I'll keep my cool but I'm fiendin
I try to say goodbye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near

Here is my confession
May I be your possesion
Boy I need your touch
Your love kisses and such
With all my might I try
But this I can't deny
I play it off but im dreamin of you
I'll keep my cool but I'm fiendin
I try to say good bye and I choke
I try to walk away and I stumble
Though I try to hide it it's clear
My world crumbles when you are not near

I'm so stressed out I could cry. I just am, damnit, don't ask why. My landlord called and told me my rent bounced even though my bank is saying it didn't. School is overwhelming when paired with regular overtime at work. I'm exhausted. The dog woke me up in the middle of a deep sleep this morning and I haven't recovered, obviously. I feel like a loser because I'm never home with said dog, he needs to get out for walks and to play the ever important game of ball and I just don't have time right now. I'm fucking burned out at work but once again I'm working on my day off, trying to make more money. This isn't working however because...I don't know, it just isn't. I feel like hell because of the endometriosis, I've been sick all week with it. Next week I'm getting this crazy serious drug, Lupron, to attempt to temporarily help. I'm freaked out about getting it though, it's burly stuff. Nice.

from this side of the white coat...

I'm beat. Today was my fourth day in a row. For those of you with normal jobs, you're thinking "and?" Dialysis, hell, patient care in general, is not a normal job. Between work and school I'm exhausted, burnt to the core.

So tomorrow my co-workers and I are preparing ourselves for a sad and uncommon event. We have a patient that has been on dialysis with us for literally almost as long as I've been alive. She is this divinely kind, gentle, and loving creature, and we all adore her. She's basically the night shift's grandmother. She is so full of peace and light, I've begun to wonder if she isn't an angel. I've never met another person like her. None of us have, actually. Well, for the past few months she has become sicker and sicker. For a while we thought she'd get better, then we started to worry she wouldn't. And she hasn't. She has been suffering for a long time now, and she has decided that before she gets worse, loses more quality of life and more independence, she is going to discontinue dialysis. With the exception of a very few anomalies, patients that discontinue dialysis will die, usually within a couple of weeks at the very most. Older, sicker people make it hours or days without a treatment. Tomorrow is this patient's last treatment. After nearly 20 years she won't be coming back anymore. This is such a momentous occasion we've been getting phone calls and visits from people that don't even work there anymore. It's so strange to talk with someone about their death when we both know it's only days away. She is going into it with her eyes and her heart wide open. It's bizarre, really. Most people that know roughly when they will be dying are either suicidal and as such not worth discussing or are terminally ill and are either too sick to talk to anyone or are too sad, scared, miserable. And understandably so. But my patient talked to be about it yesterday, as if we were talking about...I don't know, anything. She said that she was really going to miss everyone, that she was terribly spoiled to have all of us. I asked her is she was okay with it all, even though I knew she was. She said "I'm really looking forward to feeling better. And it's a new adventure, I've never died before!" Can you imagine? I am so accustomed to people who cling to life not because they want to, not because they have even a shred of quality of life, but because they are terrified of death. They fight it for months or years, suffering as a result. I have never encountered what I am encountering with this patient. She has a large, wonderful, totally devoted family, a life that she works to remain active and entertained in. And she succeeds. She has more than I have by far, more than I probably ever will have, and she is not clinging to it. She loves it, don't get me wrong. She loves her family very, very much and she loves life in general. But she does not want to torture herself or her family. She wants quality over quantity and she is going for it. It's like although she's very sad to be dying, she's not afraid, she's looking forward to a new adventure like she said. I don't know, I can't even explain it. It's just such a strange thing, planning for a death like this, having the chance to say everything you want to say, knowing exactly the last time you'll see a person. I've certainly never had that experience before. And to be able to speak so openly about it with the person... It's cool, it's like a rare glimpse into something you really never encounter until your number is the one that's up. *smile* She's so open, so fearless...it's incredible.

So here's my closing thought...or hers, actually. As she lay there last night in her treatment chair, obviously miserable, she smiled up at me and said "life is beautiful, isn't it?"

Hey Pals, here's part of a thingy I had to write for my stupid english class...it was sorta entertaining to write so I'm posting it. It's badly written, I know, but deal with it. It was written for a forum between students mainly, and none of them seem capable of recognizing good writing so I just sorta spewed it out. Enjoy!!! *clims up on soapbox*



When we start talking about juvenile executions and what a person had to do to wind up in a situation like that, we are no longer talking about stupid pranks. We are talking about a "child" killing another person in cold blood, and usually there is some extra bit of terrible circumstance added to the mix, for example murdering one's own family, torture, or rape. Not very childish acts, are they? Essentially anyone, adult or child, understands the gravity of taking another life. Everyone understands that it is not okay to torture and murder another person. It seems to me that before killing another person, with the acception of self defense, you'd think hard about what you could be doing to yourself, if not the other person. If someone genuinely does not understand the severity of their crimes then there is something wrong, and that's what the courts are there for.

As for helping kids see the severity of other crimes, I think that raising children with personal responsibility might be a start. Personal responsibility has been lost to lawsuits and various other forms of finger pointing.

I know as much about juvenile executions as years of listening to news radio can provide. I know that if sentenced to death during the trial it will be even more fiercely appealed than an adult's death sentence. I know that when the death penalty is sought, the vicious torturer and murderer of innocent people all of a sudden becomes a "child" with a hopeful future. Obviously I disagree. I agree with the judicial system. I believe that there are things a person can do to that in doing so give up rights. I believe that if one person murders another person, regardless of age, that person is a murderer. If a "child" kills, they cease to be a child, they become a murderer, and a monster in many cases. They have chosen to give up the right to grow up in a bright and cheery future. I believe in consequences, and I believe in second, not third chances for many criminals. I also believe that some crimes, such as child molestation, rape, and murder do not deserve a second chance. Ever. A person can choose to do enough damage and in doing so prove their total lack of worth in a civilized society to be removed forever. I believe it should be so.

*cries* I'm saaaad!!!!

I hate my stupid comp! I need more ram so I can play WoW the way it needs to be played. I can only do certain things, get to certain levels with what I have. ACCCK! Stupid 256 ram comp. Hey, I want more, how much can I have? Can I add what, 512 to it? That'd help, right? And a gig? I know I'm stupid, but how much is that? That's what I want, I know it's a lot more than I have now, but I'm not sure how much. Someone tell me?

I took Winston to Western Farms today and I have to say, I am NEVER going to do that again. Maybe it was just today, I've never seen him behave so! He was going mad sniffing everything to death! He kept pulling on the leash so badly that every few steps he'd go "ACHHHHHGHHH!!!!" loud enough to be heard across the store because he was choking himself. It was actually pretty funny. Anywho, everyone's like "Oh! What a beautiful dog! Is he friendly?" I wonder what it's like to say "no, he's actually really very vicious. In fact, funny you asked, he isn't at all up to date on his rabies vaccine!" and smile brightly. Hmm. That'd be slick. The point, though, is that he was a maniac! It isn't as though he's never been to a feed/pet store! Cripes, I always take him, it's just he's never been there, specifically. EGADS! It was harrowing as hell.

Vengeance was mine, however, because our next stop was the dog wash. Gratefully the freaky weird couple with their nasty American bulldog wasn't there. It was little consolation though, because I'd just seen 'em at Western Farms and they recognized me. Ick. If I ever see 'em again maybe I'll write about 'em. Essentially they reminded me of those icky people with the dogs that ate that woman in San Francisco. Marjorie Knoller and her husband, I forget his name. They'd adopted an arian filth in prison, involved him and allegedly the dogs in weird sex games, and then the dogs ate the innocent neighbor chick. I swear, I'm not making this up. Anyway, I've decided that the people at the dog wash were just those sorts. Eww.

So the dog wash was apparently free of unsavory characters today and Winston got his bath, much to his chagrin. Yayyy! Clean dog! I've spent the rest of my day avoiding the math homework I'm going to stress over tomorrow. I cleaned the house and it's once again ready for a week of torture. I got my grocery shopping done, laundry too. I love being caught up with housework. It makes me feel almost ready to take on everything else I'm behind on.

And a late happy birthday, K.

I Hate SBC

I need an extra phone jack installed. As any of you who have visited my home know, my computer lives in the living room because I haven't got a phone jack in my bedroom. So after asking around to see if anyone I knew would do it for free, I grudging agreed to pay SBC the obscene price of $131 to get the damned thing installed. A lousy phone jack, $131. Lovely. Anyway, I had to wait a frickin' week to get it installed because of my schedule. So I schedule it for 4-8pm today 'cause it's all I had available. So what do they do? They book it for a guy that only works 'til 4:30. It'll take longer than 30 minutes of course, but despite the fact that I specifically told these incompetent dolts I was unavailable before 4, they took it upon themselves to tell this poor technician to get me in an earlier appointment. And they didn't allow for the fact that I, oh, I don't know, WASN'T GOING TO BE THERE! So then I was told that I had to call and stay on hold AGAIN to talk to these morons that couldn't get it right the first time. So I did. Stayed on hold. Politely, calmly explained the situation to this slob on the other end who without a word transferred me back to the very beginning of the system for me to work my way through. Nice. The next guy I got actually knew how to use his phone, because he didn't transfer me. He did, however, keep me on hold for six years while he spoke with jerks at the dispatch who told him they were going to have to send someone up at the end of their shift. And it still might not happen. And I'm still waiting for said morons to call me and let me know. Special, it's very special.

So my dvd player has a screen saver thing, right? I was watching the Shining until a few minutes ago when I stopped it. My cat Lewis is standing in front of the tv watching the dvd logo bouncing around the screen. What a life. So I'm listening to the Spencer Hughes Show, right? He's talking about good luck charms and this listener called in and said she'd had a frickin' m&m she's been carrying around in her pocket for like YEARS! How the hell does that work? Can you IMAGINE what's growing in that baby? Perhaps she lacquered it. Cripes.

So tonight I'm going to Les Miserables. I've been wanting to see this play for years, but I realllllllllllllllllly don't want to go. I don't feel comfortable with the person I'm seeing it with, I don't know what it is about him. And after the day I've had, I just want to stay home and relax. Blah.

Cool Things I've Heard People Say Recently, and whatever else I feel like talking about....

So the other day I decided to open the side door and perhaps get some fresh air for once. Craig was standing there and he was like "oooh, wouldn't it be cool if a wild animal ran through!" After I recovered from laughing so hard I was like "oh yes, all those wild animals here on North Dutton." What a psycho.

Then, later, or maybe the next day, one of my flavorite patients and I were discussing Herbie movies (egads). He's like "I'm going to send Herbie in here to rescue me!" LMAO Sooo cool.

Craig said somehing funny yesterday, too. I was like, I am so putting that in the blog. HAHA! No I'm not!!! It's gone now!

Guess I'm not saying much else, gotta jump in the shower...before my stupid 12 hour shift. 12 because our employee of the month keeps calling in sick. *raises an eyebrow*

favorite songs

What is your favorite song/group or artist of all time? Mine, as many of you know, is the Cure. My favorite song is probably hmmm, Lovesong? There are a few close contenders, but I think that's it. Well you know how sometimes your favorite songs can be sort of attached to someone you love? They insidiously associate themselves with said person. This can be a bad thing, and in Julie-Land it usually is. So once again my favorite song(s) have been associated to someone. And when I hear them, it makes me sad. The interesting thing about all of this is that it's never ever happened with the Cure. It didn't matter who the Cure was associated with in my heart, it always came out clean. It seemed that before, the person I loved never was worthy of permanent association with these songs, so all was well. But this time, the person is totally worthy. So I have to figure out a new angle to unattach those emotions from my songs. *sigh*

"Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."
Charlie Brown

SMASHING!!!!

I hung out with Jason tonight and he gave my my late birthday present. OMG!!! He got me an ipod shuffle. It is SOOOOOOOO FUCKING COOL! It's the burliest thing, and it's like microscopic. SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOL. Mmmm, music.

In other faboo news, Rachel got me the most divine canister set and matching teapot. It's soooooo pretty! And it matches the curtains PERFECTLY!! Yayyyyyyyyy!!!!! It's bizarre, I keep wondering who I'm housesitting for, 'cause this can't all be mine! Egads, imagine when I have my washer/dryer (not that it'll be any time soon!).

So I discovered that my car is leaking/burning oil. Yayyy. This makes the mitsubishi look even better. Gotta talk Lito into co-signing. Ughhhh...*keeping fingers crossed* I haaaaaaaaave to have it, it's absolutely perfect, down to the tinted windows even. *cries* MUST HAVE!!!

email forwards

You know all those email forwards you loathe getting? I like some of 'em, the funny ones, once in a while the sweet ones, I usually like ones with pictures (not THOSE kind, sickos!), but I don't like to get too many. The one kind I really like is the get to know youre friends better ones...but assuming most of you don't want to get one more forward...I'm going to point it here. If you care, copy and paste it and email it to me, I won't even scrap it! If not, whatever...

1. IF YOU COULD BUILD A SECOND HOUSE ANYWHERE WHERE WOULD IT BE? On a river in the mountains where there is snow or within view of the redwoods and the ocean.
2. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE ARTICLE OF CLOTHING? Shoes
3. THE LAST CD YOU BOUGHT? Tori Amos, Tales of a Librarian
4. WHAT TIME DO YOU WAKE UP IN THE MORNING? Usually about 9ish, if I don't have school. Otherwise around 8.
5.WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE KITCHEN APPLIANCE? my smashing old wedgewood stove.
6. IF YOU COULD PLAY AN INSTRUMENT, WHAT WOULD IT BE? Violin
7. WHAT ARE YOUR FAVORITE COLORS? Purple and Blue
8. DO YOU BELIEVE IN AFTERLIFE? Yes.
9. WHICH DO YOU PREFER SPORTS CAR OR SUV? Sports car if it's a vintage mustang, if not? An SUV
10. FAVORITE CHILDREN'S BOOK? Taxi Dog, I forget who the author is though.
11. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON? Winter
12. IF YOU COULD HAVE ONE SUPER POWER, WHAT WOULD IT BE? To be able to transform into animals or objects...
13. IF YOU HAVE A TATTOO, WHAT IS IT? I can show you.
14. CAN YOU JUGGLE? Nope.
15. NAME ONE PERSON FROM YOUR PAST YOU WISH YOU COULD GO BACK AND TALK TO: Gene
16. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE DAY? Saturday
17. WHAT'S IN THE TRUNK OF YOUR CAR? A book and a couple of newspapers...
What happened to eighteen?
19. FROM THE PEOPLE YOU WILL EMAIL THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST? Haha! No one!
20. WHO'S LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND? Everyone!
21. WHO DID YOU RECEIVE THIS FROM? Marty Pants

I Love Neurology (sort of)

So today I woke up with an amplified version of the migraine that began yesterday at work. Yup. It was rather on the hellacious side, if you must know. So once again I attempted to reach my contact person at the neurology department, and YAYYYY! After almost 3 weeks we managed to make contact! Smashing! So in I went at 2pm to be treated, expecting some fabulous injection that'd make the rest of my day bearable, and allow me to open my eyes fully and maybe eat, too. This is the way it works, if the injection is cool enough. Welllll...in I went. The nurse wanted to try oxygen therapy first, so I spent maybe 15 minutes in a lovely cool, dark room hooked up to a very high flow of oxygen. It was nice, but didn't help the migraine.
And so I progressed from the nurse to the neurologist. He was lovely, his main specialty is pediatric neurology, but he also treats adults. Aesthetically he reminded me of a hematologist I used to work with, a very nice man, but that's another blog. Anywho, he proceeded to tell me he wanted to treat the pressure points. This means he wanted to numb up the nerves that affect the feeling in most of my head. In order to do this (may I suggest my squeamish friends perhaps ignore this part of the blog?) he inserted a needle within millimeters of the base of said nerves (right around the base of my skull) and injected a long acting form of novacaine. Yep. He numbed up my head, somewhat. And you know what? Having needles put into your head really kinda hurts, especially with the medication which burns like hell and shoots up your head along the nerve pathway. But it was still better than the headache. Although it didn't completely take it away. In fact, in the time it took to shmooze with the doctor and make an appointment with my regular neurologist, the pain was back so badly I was in tears by the time I got to my car. It's so frustrating, you go through a crazy, painful treatment like that and it doesn't help? You feel like the pain, light and noise sensitivity, and nausea will never go away. Luckily the numbing went further into effect and I think the drug sample I was given may have helped a little too. So by the time I got back to Cloverdale I was basically pain free, and it's lasted until now, where it's just barely started to seep back. But maybe I can sleep it off.
*sigh* So that's my day.

a slacker day at work and something that won't go away

Yayyyy, easy day at work. I did transonics, a computerized test on fistulas and grafts (yes I know that doesn't make sense to almost anyone). I did them allllll day except when I was busy fooling around, shmoozing, and wasting time in general. Tonight after the last patient left Craig and I got into a biiiig waterfight that began with 10cc's of saline. And then I brought out the big guns. I've discovered that 30cc syringes make absolutely stunning water assault weaponry. Unfortunately for my scrubs, lab coat and hair, Craig learned that using the liter bag of saline is even better yet. But 'ya know what? In case you were interested, the 30's have a much better aim and pressure. Yup. I feel that we've begun a war. The other night he shot me with saline while I was taking someone off. *giggle* I was totally defenseless, couldn't react other than sticking my tongue out at him...if I'd tried I woulda wound up covered in blood. Blah. But my little friend paid dearly today. Never start a waterfight with a woman who grew up in a fire station. Very scary.

In truly unrelated news...

and before I dive in, allow me to expel any ego, presumption, or any other such misinterpretation...the person I am referring to next is not Craig, he is a great friend and that is all. It also is not my ex.

Have you ever met the person who is everything you had dreamt of in your childhood and adult life? And I'm not referring to "rich and single." I mean the kind of things you hold so dear that they remain only in your innermost heart? Your heart of hearts, as Jason would say. They remain there until you meet this person and realize: this could be it. And this person is so like you, everything you actually like about yourself, the things you manage to be proud of and thankful for, this person has these, too. And not only that, this person is what you strive to be in so many ways. And you know, regardless of what others tell you, you know once again in your heart of hearts, this is it. I'm not going to find anything more, anything better. I have found this. It's something I never thought existed, only in my dreams. But it does exist. Just not to me. My dream exists for someone else. And so I see my dream, and part of me is so happy that there is this kind of light left in the world, it's so incredibly beautiful. And part of me is sad because I can't ever have it. I don't want to believe why I was able to experience it, only to know that it can't ever be. But I have a theory. (I always have a theory.) My theory is that now I know. Now I don't have to wait any longer. Now I don't have to hope any more, and look for the one that could complete me. I don't have to look because I've already found. But you can't keep what does not belong to you, even if it was made to fit you perfectly.

And it's hard sometimes. Because no matter how rational my theory is, no matter how much of an odd sense of peace I have in this truth, I keep wanting to scream out at the cruelty of it. But on I go.

g'nite

terribly pertinent song lyrics

I got a disease, deep inside. It makes me feel uneasy baby. I can't live without you. Tell me, what am I supposed to do about it? Keep your distance from me. Don't pay no attention to me. I got a disease.

And well I think that I'm sick. Well leave me be, while my world is coming down on me. You taste like honey, honey. Tell me can I be your only? Be, be strong
I keep telling myself that it won't take long, until I'm free of my disease. Free of my disease

Hell, when I got a disease deep inside me, It makes me feel uneasy, baby. I cant live without you. Tell me what am I supposed to do about it? Keep your distance from me. Don't pay no attention to me. I got a disease.

And well I think that I'm sick. Well leave me be, while my world is coming down on me. You taste like honey, baby. Tell me can I be your one and only? Be, be strong; I keep telling myself that it won't take long, until I'm free of my disease. Free of my disease...

Alive and reasonably well!

Well, the brother got arrested for who knows what later that night... Thank you God... I'm hoping they'll keep him forever, but I'm thinking it isn't very likely. :-P

Anywho, I am officially LOVING World of Warcraft. It's fabulous, overwhelming, addictive, and all in all cool as hell. Yay! It's incredible, the details are mind boggling. Who knew? Spencer, apparently!

So I worked some yesterday after psychology, it was easy money...egads though, I HAAAAATE reuse...ick-ickers. Bluuucchhhkkk even..

Today Rachel and Nick came up to see the house, it was divine. Winston is in love with Nick, poor Nick! It was divine seeing them, and they seemed to approve of the house. *big smile*

So guess what I did?!?!? I kind of...gardened today. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! Who am I and what have I done with ME?!?!? My lawn was so overgrown from before I moved in that I had to use a weed eater thing. *shudders* Ewwwwww. It was dreadful, dirty, tiring, blah. Things kept, like, flicking up at me. It was nearly as traumatic as moving. Yuck-o. Later I weeded some and put in some seeds. The weeding wasn't terribly fabulous but it wasn't nearly as bad as the evil weed eater. Which I should be thankful for even having at all, thank you Mom and Dad! The good news is that at least my seeds are in the ground, or at least the ones I have already, need some more I think. But it's a good start. Bizarre, I know.

*yawwwwn*

current music: Girls, by the Beastie Boys
current mood: I'll never tell

Tonight my brother flipped out. Those of you that know me well are thinking "and?" He flipped out worse than he ever has before, at least around my parents. Sean is getting more and more dangerous. Where I used to just think he was a worthless junkie, now I know he is a worthless schizophrenic junkie. Yay. The other day I walked into my parent's basement to throw some laundry in and he was making a weapon of some sort. I know this probably sounds funny to most of you. It probably would to me too if I wasn't related to Sean. And it becomes less funny no matter who you're related to when you imagine that it was in the house of two of the most loving, wonderful parents the world could offer. Parents who would die for Sean, even at his worst. Which, looking at my watch, is evidently tonight. Of course every day around Sean brings a new worst. Tonight he destroyed my parents front yard, bashed in the windshield of my dad's car, and they won't tell me what else. They never tell me the worst of it.

So here I am, back at home, doors and windows locked, praying he won't find out where I live, praying he's too psychotic to recognize my car if he walks by, and realizing that maybe the reason I'm hesitant to walk the dog late at night is not because of the stupid wanna be gang members up here. Maybe it's because I'm afraid of running into my brother.
And you know what? Those gang losers are stupid, they're below contempt, and they're worthless as well. But I'd rather run into them than my brother. At least they're relatively sane. The police are out looking for him and my parents are going for a restraining order on Monday. God I hope they don't back down. One day he'll kill someone. You know those news stories about the innocent families that are murdered by their deranged relatives? Tonight as I came home and I had to walk into my alley to get my garbage can. I felt like he could be coming for me. I wondered, is this what it's like? Waiting for the inevitable? I'm tired of this. I wish he would go away and never ever be seen or heard from again.

Ewwww!

My ex's fiancee' just smiled at me on this website we happen to both belong to! REDRUM! To smile at someone is kinda like emailing. Usually it is to express interest of some kind, but in this case I can only imagine. How revolting.

current mood: disgusted, slightly queasy

'Ya know what? It wouldn't hurt any of you people to comment every once in a while! Jeepers, I get more posts from my ex that I have no contact with than any of you that I do have contact with! Cripes. And for the record, thanks, at least someone has something to say! *rolls eyes*

So I went and saw Rachel for a minute tonight. It was smashing, I haven't seen her in forever and six months. She's coming up to see my house on Sunday. I'm so lucky to have her as my best friend...

I'm stressed because I forgot about an english assignment. ACK! I'm not sure what the points are worth but I'm screwed if it's enough to lose my A. I realllllllly don't want to retake this class. Reaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaally. I think if I have to retake this class I'd rather just drop out of school and work as a truck driver going 'round the country. Life would be a road trip...smashing. Uggggh. Everyone keep your fingers crossed please!

I think I've decided on my pre med major, thanks to my pal Spencer. I think I'm going to go for mass communications. Coooooooooooooooooool. That way if I ever gain my senses and leave medicine I could go into radio. It just seems like it must be the coolest thing ever...I've thought of it for years but never thought I could, I wanted to take courses and learn more but I didn't know exactly what to take. Hmmm. we'll see. And pediatric neurology is grabbing me more and more. I mean, what could be more perfect? We'll see, I mean I only have 17,084 years to decide.

I donated blood today at school, they were having a drive. I haven't donated whole blood in years. Anywho, as I was bleeding out (doesn't that sound shocking and nonchalant all at once?! I adore it) the kiln guy from the ceramics program came in to donate. At least I think he's the kiln guy. Maybe he's one of those freaky people that just hung 'round the studio all the time and acted like he knew what he was doing. I think it was kinda both, actually. At any rate seeing him in his clay covered apron made me miss my wheel back at the studio, all my tools, and the smell of the glazes, the raku fire, and clay under what little nails I have. *sigh* I'd do anything to be able to be in one of those classes again. All of them conflict with work or my other classes though. I soooo loved ceramics. Maybe next semester.

Oohhh, I'm going to get the World of Warcraft game tomorrow I think. Cooooooool, it is incredible thus far, I think it's only going to get far better...splendid...

I went to dinner at one of my favorite Mexican places tonight. The waiter, as always, was terribly polite, very civilized, but they had a new bus girl. I'm assuming that's what she was, I nearly had to light myself on fire to get her to acknowledge me, and rudely at that. Her lack of politesse was disappointing. I was surprised, La Bufa's always has charming people. Evidently they thought they'd try something new this time, huh?

Why are incompetent people allowed to remain by so many employers? It's interesting, I feel morally and personally obligated to not only be competent but to excel at what I do. Pragmatically speaking, I also feel required to do so. And rightfully so. But these standards are not applied to everyone. Why? I think it's unacceptable and it is leading to the deterioration of quality, capability, and distinction. Mediocrity is on a downward spiral. I hate mediocrity.

*loses balance and falls off the soapbox*

guess WHAT?!?!?!?

So I was discussing Harry Potter with a friend last night and it reminded me, I have no idea when the next book's out. Correction:had. Yay! I just checked the bbc website and it's allegedly going to be out in mid-July! The 16th, for the record. WOOOHOOOO!!! My life has purpose again!

Meetings

So yesterday was my day off, and rather than going to school and then kicking back at home doing homework or maybe even going out with friends, what did I do? I spent 4 hours and 20 minutes at a mandatory OSHA safety review meeting. Woohoo!!! Okay, now there's some groundwork to this story. Allow me to start by saying that the meeting is rather on the dull side to begin with. The first time. Same OSHA bs, different job, different year. Last year I was "priviledged" to endure it not once, not twice, but approximately 3.5 times. Once for pre-employment, once for the unit's annual review, once in tech aide school, and 1/2 of it in PCT school. Yayyyyyyyyyyy!!! I also have to say that when you have to deal with it on a work day it's actually lovely, even if dull. It's nice because rather than running 'round sweating and stressing yourself out on the floor you can sit in the conference room, sip your drink (which is no longer allowed on the floor) and sit pretty, chillin' like the proverbial villain. Sadly it isn't so on a day off. To worsen matters I had to go to the Windsor unit, because the review meetings at my unit are impossible for me to attend due to school and lack of shift coverage. Whee! So off to Windsor I rushed after math. It's a smashing unit, small, new, not dilapidated. *sigh* The conference room is tiny! Weird. There were let's see....7 of us not counting the teacher, Russ, whom I adore. Russ is my old pal from Tech Aide school. He's divine, smashing to talk to. Okay...now comes the point. There are three types of people in meetings. First, and the most frequently aggravating in my world, we find Nodders. Nodders can be seen nodding emphatically at the points presented, behaving much as if they were the ones writing the presentation to begin with, as opposed to just some office shmuck forced to be there like the rest of the shmucks. We have a nodder at my unit. His name is Jay. Jay is King of the Shmucks. He sits and nods, periodically utters an affirmative, and shakes his head sadly at issues we as a staff are being counseled on. He seems to forget that he is generally the source of those issues...must be all that head shaking. Moving on, we have the Chatty Cathys. In fact, my meeting at Windsor was chock full of self proclaimed Chatty Cathys. They'd delve into irrelevent conversations on nearly every point, they'd make childish (and not in a good way, in an "I can't believe you just said that, I feel embarrassed for you" way) jokes about terribly entertaining past experiences. They chuckle, giggle, chortle and guffaw like giddy, socially stunted schoolchildren. It was horrific! I nearly died!!!! And the clinical manager was one of 'em! My boss wouldn't (hopefully) hire people like that, God love her! Why? Because she'd find them loathsome creatures, as I do. And even if there were people employed like that, she'd put a quick end to it. God! Where was she when I needed her?! We were supposed to be done at 4, right? At 3:50 we weren't yet halfway done. My poor friend Russ kept trying to steer us back into relevence and the Cathys would roll mercilessly over him, obliterating him, poor man. He was a shadow of his former self when we had at last finished. It was un-be-fucking-lievable. Forgive the language, pets, but I assure you it was most necessary.

The Cathys stem mainly from a strange, much feared breed of women. They are of the infamous We Have No Life of Our Own so Dialysis is Our Life tribe. But that's another blog.

ttfn dahhlings!