Meme-a-licious

This is for your entire life:

Smoked a cigarette Not even once. Almost took it up when drunk and in a foreign country.
Drank so much you threw up Uh... yeah. A few times. Not for years though.
Crashed a friend's car No

Stolen a car No
Been in love Yes.
Been dumped Yes.
Shoplifted No.
Been laid off/fired Laid off when a restaurant closed.
Quit your job Yes.
Been in a fist fight Not so much...
Snuck out of your parent's house We sneaked out of my friend's parents' house when I was in high school a couple times, to go to the Rocky Horror Picture Show. And once as an adult we left my Dad's house in the middle of the night when we were mad at him, and he didn't know we'd left until morning. We'd told him and my evil step mother that I was pregnant and their reaction was... weird.

Had feelings for someone who didn't have them back Gah, who hasn't.

Been arrested No.
Gone on a blind date No.
Lied to a friend Do little white lies count?
Skipped school Only once or twice.
Been to Canada Several times, and driven through it twice to get to Alaska as well.
Been to Mexico Only as far as Ensenada.
Been on a plane Too many times to list.

Been lost Here and there...
Been on the opposite side of the country Many times.
Gone to Washington DC? Flew there a few years ago to see the Smithsonians etc.
Swam in the ocean A few times.
Felt like dying I could see that from where I was so I understood what that was all about, but didn't really want to go there, not for reals.
Cried yourself to sleep More than once.

Played cops and robbers Yes!
Recently colored with crayons Yes, I have a 3-year-old...
Sang karaoke No. Oh, God, no.

Paid for a meal with only coins Once as a kid..

Done something you told yourself you wouldn't Yes.
Made prank phone calls Not that I can remember.

Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose Think my brother did.
Caught a snowflake on your tongue Yes.
Danced in the rain No.

Written a letter to Santa Claus Of course.

Been kissed under the mistletoe Yes.
Watched the sun rise with someone you care about No

Blown bubbles Again, I have a 3 year old.
Made a bonfire on the beach Ages ago.

Crashed a party Nah. Wasn't much for parties.
Gone roller-skating Used to go a lot.
Ice-skating Hurts my feets.

Booksale!

Almost couldn't attend the Megopolis library used-bookstore booksale due to ice, but managed at the last minute on my way to work. (I live in Bedroom Community but Megopolis is just across the river). They give you a paper grocery sack, the tall kind with handles, and you fill it up with books, and it costs you ten bucks. There was supposed to be a limit of ten bags, but I heard a guy talking with the staff at the register and he had sixteen. I can only aspire to that kind of greatness, but then again I haven't got that kind of shelf space and would hate to break up the family owing to the divorce that would surely ensue if I brought home sixteen bags of books.

Well, I'm a rank amateur at these things, in that I didn't stand in line before the store opened or anything, but I did get me a bag of books. It was pretty picked over by the time I got there but I got a bunch of books for Delia, a book-on-cd for when she's older ("Misty of Chincoteague" by Marguerite Henry, a favorite of mine as a child), and map book and fishing guide for J. For me, a Russian language course on tape for all that spare time I have. And the satisfaction of getting a bazillion books for ten bucks, of course, and supporting the library.

I kicked its scaly little BUTT

I spanked that module test! I showed it who was boss!

Okay, I got a 90. I'm sure somebody else did gooder than me... but at least it wasn't a 75!

Oh, and also

I discovered that my local purveyor of expensive coffee drinks opens at FIVE IN THE MORNING!

You have no idea how happy this makes me. I can get a delicious beverage on clinicals mornings!

Clinicals

So on Thursdays we have to get up at four-dark-thirty. Not only must we get up, but we must then appear, clean, neat, and chipper, by no later than 5:45am, at the Clinicals site assigned to us, where we must then try to worm our ways into our assigned CNAs' hearts, lest they spurn us and leave us to wander the halls, alone and friendless. This morning I followed instructions to the letter, donning for the first time my uniform: white scrub top with Euphemism College Indentured Nursing Servitude Program on left shoulder, white lab jacket with Euphemism College Indentured Nursing Servitude Program on left shoulder, navy blue "Cherokee" brand scrub pants (for conformity's sake, that we might all match nicely one another), and white shoes, no clogs, no Crocs. Naturally all of the CNA's were wearing adorable multicolored scrubs and Crocs. Sigh. At least the pants are blue now and not white which was the requirement until just this term. Thank you, Student Nurse Association of Euphemism College, for successfully lobbying to change the pants color! "At least now we don't have to give you The Underwear Talk," says the program director.

I was compelled upon arrival to ask the kindly, if slightly amused, nursing staff for something with which to cover my one visible tattoo. "But why?" they asked, and I explained that we were told in no uncertain terms to cover our tattoos so as not to offend the largely elderly population we will be working with. They fairly shook with laughter as they found me a gauze pad and clear sticky thingy (which has a name but I forget what it is) for the offending body art. Then I had to ask for a bandaid to cover this weird thing on my inner elbow that I am fairly sure is ringworm.

Yes, ringworm.

I have placed a call to my doctor about it and await further instruction.

If it is indeed ringworm, then the only really plausible explanation for "why there, in such an odd place and not on your hand or scalp or something more typical" is that perhaps I picked it up from the cat at work. She loves me. She loves to sit on me. She loves to stick her wet little nose in the crook of my elbow and try to bury her head under my arm.

Great. Now I've got mange.

At any rate, once we were thoroughly scolded by our instructor for clinicals, who is frankly a bit of a prick, for any tardiness (past present future real or imagined) we were taken to the shift change meeting where the CNA's mostly ignored us. They go through this every three months so one can hardly blame them for failing to break out the brass band, but still, I felt leprous and untouchable for most of the morning. And not just because of my ringworm.

Once we were set free upon the unsuspecting populace, the CNA's loosened up a bit and even put us to a bit of work here and there. In my case, mostly to fetch linens or throw dirty ones in the hamper. But not icky soiled ones, so I'm fairly sure my CNA doesn't hate me. I also got to do exciting things like encourage a patient to eat and fill ice water cups for each patient. Whoopee. I'm paying big money and getting up at the butt crack of dawn for this privilege. (Not to denigrate the importance of caring for our elders, nor to look down upon the work of the CNA -- I just mean it's a bit anticlimactic when you have a shiny new important uniform and a badge that says, "Student Nurse.")

At any rate, as we get more comfortable we will be required to do more tasks, so next week my goal is to actually take the vital signs of two or more patients and perhaps even assist one or more of them out of bed, dress them, etc. Woot! Look out, here I come! I might even warm my hands up first!

Anyway, our instructor was laboring under the misconception that we had to be at library training at 12:30pm, a misconception that interestingly none of us felt the urge to correct him on, and we were out of there by noonish, at which time I sped into town to pick up the larger be-wheeled bag that my sister-in-law brought for me. She lives an hour out of town but happened to be in town for A Day of Beauty. I was also able to eat some lunch while sitting in my car listening to Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire on CD, (a pastime which I find soothing so stop calling me a dork behind my back. I'm looking at you Mel.) Then to the Euphemism College library for training by a truly marvelous reference librarian about the APA publication style which we will be using for our paper this term, and all terms henceforth forever and ever in perpetuity, and the mistakes that previous students made and which were noted in painful detail to her by the program director, that we might be instructed more carefully this term. She kept saying things like, "Why do they do it like this? Who cares. Just do it this way." I puffy hearted her by the end of the training. I wonder if there is some kind of nurse-librarian hybrid career?

After the training I and my cohort in crime, future roommate Michelle, hung about the library printing the reams and reams of stuff we need off of Blackboard. Another classmate who Michelle finds particularly irksome decided that he would print a powerpoint presentation from one of our classes, using the same shared printer as we were using. One slide per page. Forty nine slides. Oh, and here are some more powerpoints I need to print! The printer was so buggered up from this that I turned to him and said, "You can't seriously be printing these up in this format. It's like two hundred pages and each one is taking forever." At first he failed to see the error of his ways but the dirty looks that other users were giving him soon prompted him to cancel his print jobs, log off and bail from the library altogether, leaving one job still printing, which we managed to get a staff member to cancel. I'm starting to understand why he gets on Michelle's One Remaining Nerve. He's without malice, but utter clueless.

So, I got home around 4:30pm having been gone some eleven hours, and promptly fell asleep on the couch. Now I must write up the various things from today which are due tomorrow by 11:30am (necessitating a trip to campus, grr) and study for the last module test of the week which is also due tomorrow. Only to begin again next week. Yay!

Wednesday afternoon

I'm so effing sore. Helga, my sadistic East German personal trainer, put me through my paces yesterday, and now I can barely lift my arms. Thanks, Helga! ...I'm only kidding; her name is Connie, so far as I know she is not East German, and she's totally nice. But she is tough, and I'm so sore! But I am already registered for the Livestrong Ride this year, the 70 miler, and the Danskin Triathlon registration opens in February. This time, I'm taking hostages friends with me!

Today I had class from 8:30-10:30am, then stayed after to take some module tests. I did well on two of them, a 95 and a 100, then not so good on the third one. They did tell us that we wouldn't always do well, that we should take it in stride, blah blah blah, but it is not in my nature to accept anything less than a nice, solid B. So when I got a whopping 75 percent on that module test today, well... it was like giving me a nice paper cut and pouring lemon juice in it.

I have one more to take, which I'd hoped to do today but ran out of time and/or motivation to do, after that soul-sucking, life-draining, hope-stealing 75 percent hit me upside the head like a smelly dead fish. So, I did some reading today and I'll take it on Friday.

An Update as to my Progress Through Life

So it's Tuesday. Yesterday I spent lounging around sleeping in until 10am, courtesy of J. She came to see when I might like to get up (surely the finest way to be awakened, by someone gently inquiring how much longer one might wish to sleep) but when I pointed out that she had to leave pretty much right this minute for an appointment that she had forgotten about, she bolted out the door, so I had to get up then anyway.

Then I speed cleaned strategic parts of the house. My classmate/future roommate Michelle was coming over for a study session and although she will soon know exactly what kind of pigs we are, one does still like to try to make a good first impression. Actually I was more concerned about Pavel, another classmate, who was possibly also coming over. Being as we are female here, we don't often lift the toilet seat, and I know from gruesome experience that often things are just Not Right on the backside of the seat even if the rest of the toilet looks reasonably clean. So, I cleaned the hall bathroom and the bunny cage and part of the kitchen and I vacuumed and the list goes on and on. So, at least the house is kind of not oppressively horrifying.

Then Michelle came over, met the household, admired the bunnies, ogled the chickens, etc. We studied, after a fashion... I was interrupted literally almost every five minutes at times by one thing or another, usually child-related. Still, we slogged through the material for one of the modules in good time and will meet again on Wednesday after class, at school, with Pavel, with the objective of studying for and then taking the three (!!!) module tests that are due this week.

Today was class day, health assessment, we covered skin, hair and nails, the Braden pressure sore risk scale, that sort of carefree pursuit. I wanted very badly to nip into the testing center to knock out one of the module tests but the teacher ran overtime. She always does. And I had to leave as soon as we finally DID finish, in order to make it to the gym for a personal trainer appointment. So I was a bit cheesed about the time crunch.

Xenu questions

These are the weird Scientology questions that have been circulating, thought I'd take a crack at 'em.

"The internal church document was developed by Scientology founder and onetime science fiction writer L. Ron Hubbard for use during "auditing" sessions—you know, the ones designed to identify your trapped "thetans."

The "thetans," or alien ghosts, were implanted in Earth's volcanoes 75 million years ago by the evil intergalactic ruler Xenu, until the nasty buggers escaped and invaded the bodies of each and every one of us. New recruits like Katie Holmes, or "preclears," answer the questions while hooked up to an E-meter—a crude, polygraph-like contraption—as a Church-sanctioned auditor records the subject's responses for further expensive inquiry. Radar excerpted the best of the list's 343 questions. Here's a verbatim sampling."

• Have you ever enslaved a population?
I have a drawer full of squirrels and I make them knit me socks, because I can't stand to wear the same socks twice. There, I finally confessed. I feel so much better.

• Have you ever debased a nation's currency?
Yes, just to hear it scream.

• Have you ever killed the wrong person?
Countless times. Mom said that I am not allowed to kill the wrong person anymore.

• Have you ever torn out someone's tongue?
Wanted to? Yes. Actually did it? No, because they are so damn slippery. Next time I'm getting some tongs.

• Have you ever been a professional critic?
I was personally responsible for the downfall of New Coke. Let the truth be known.

• Have you ever wiped out a family?
Before the squirrels, I had mice, but their paws were so small that they took bloody ages to knit the socks, so I had to, er, "find them a new home" so I could move the squirrels in.

• Have you ever tried to give sanity a bad name?
Yes, first I tried "Chester," then "Melvin," and finally "Festus," but against all odds it managed to evade my efforts.

• Have you ever consistently practiced sex in some unnatural fashion?
Oh, thousands of times. And then I stopped wearing the clown shoes and the thong underpants and it was a lot better after that.

• Have you ever made a planet, or nation, radioactive?
It wasn't easy, but using only a rubber band, a microwave oven, and a spam email generator, I finally got 'er done.

• Have you ever made love to a dead body?
You'd have thought she was dead, but no. (And: eeeuw!)

• Have you ever engaged in piracy?
There were no witnesses, and you can't prove a thing. No further comment, me hearties.

• Have you ever been a pimp?
No, I've never had much interest in practicing law.

• Have you ever eaten a human body?
I can quit anytime I like. It is an acquired taste.

• Have you ever disfigured a beautiful thing?
I like to sing in the car, and each song I desecrate dies a sad and horrible death.

• Have you ever exterminated a species?
Mmmmm.... species.... *drool*

• Have you ever been a professional executioner?
No, I haven't yet managed to attain pro status, I'm still just an amateur.

• Have you given robots a bad name?
Quite the contrary. My robots are wonderfully named. Here, meet Sebastian, Leonardo, and Benedict.

• Have you ever set a booby trap?
I rarely have to trap my boobies. They are generally right where I left them.

• Have you ever failed to rescue your leader?
"Rescue," that's so codependent. I prefer to give him the tools to rescue himself.

• Have you driven anyone insane?
Why drive, when it's such a short walk? (Ba dum bum)

• Have you ever killed the wrong person?
Who wants to know? You look kind of wrong to me. Hold still, I'm just going to the wall safe to get my, uh, newspaper.

• Is anybody looking for you?
Why, who's been calling? *shifty eyes* Uh, I have to run to the store for some, uh, graham crackers. Back later. *squealling tires*

• Have you ever set a poor example?
No, except for that one time when I voted for Bush.

(...Okay, bear in mind that this is humor, I never voted for Bush. Some things are just not funny! My bad!)

• Did you come to Earth for evil purposes?
Didn't we all?

• Are you in hiding?
I told you never to call me here!

• Have you systematically set up mysteries?
Usually I'm unsystematic, which throws them off the trail. That and my tinfoil hat.

• Have you ever made a practice of confusing people?
I don't need to practice anymore, I am quite proficient.

• Have you ever philosophized when you should have acted instead?
Only a few times. It took forever to get the bloodstains out of the carpet, so I don't make that mistake anymore.

• Have you ever gone crazy?
Why, who have you been talking to? *shifty eyes again* Don't listen to the TV people, they totally lie.

• Have you ever sought to persuade someone of your insanity?
It's pretty evident to anyone who cares to look.

• Have you ever deserted, or betrayed, a great leader?
We haven't had one in a while, so no.

• Have you ever smothered a baby?
I smothered a new baby potato in gravy once. It was totally asking for it.

• Do you deserve to have any friends?
If you have to ask, then no, you cannot be my friend.

• Have you ever castrated anyone?
Actually, yes. I assisted at the castration of my cat. (True story!)

• Do you deserve to be enslaved?
Resistance is futile!

• Is there any question on this list I had better not ask you again?
Not so far. Is this the best you can do?

• Have you ever tried to make the physical universe less real?
Every time I pass a WalMart.

• Have you ever zapped anyone?
How did I know it was loaded? Sheesh.

• Have you ever had a body with a venereal disease? If so, did you spread it?
Don't ask, don't tell. :)

Nursing School Update!

Well, we Euphemism College student nurses have successfully negotiated two WHOLE weeks of nursing school. I have turned in two assignments (no grades back yet) and completed a "practice test" (to get us used to using the testing center and taking zillions of multiple-guess tests, presumably) and my first real! actual! test! I was nervous going into it but evidently I sucked it up enough to think reasonably clearly. The good thing is that you get your score immediately; the bad thing is that it doesn't tell you which ones you got wrong. Um, hey now, how am I supposed to learn from my mistakes if I don't know what they are?! Anyways, I got a 95 percent. :) Yay me!

My goal here is not perfect scores, or even A's. As they say, "B's get degrees." Certainly I will shoot for A's, because it is in my nature to do so, but realistically, it may not happen. So I decided to really shoot for perfect attendance. Barring catastrophic illness, it should be possible.

Yesterday we toured the facility where we'll be doing our clinicals, and so we got to troop around in our lab coats feeling all student-nursey. My particular group is going to be at a skilled nursing center which is an offshoot to a Governmental Hospital (mentioned more fully in this post, which I discovered I had forgotten to post but merely saved as a draft, so there it is at last) so we'll be working with mostly men of a certain age. Next Thursday we'll have to show up there at (cringe) 5:45 IN THE MORNING, wearing our uniforms and being all eager and stuff. Gah.

The Highly Recommended Rolling Backpack has indeed been an essential part of my not becoming a hunchback, and just yesterday I got to buy a fancy clipboard for clinicals which I can keep my Important Student Nurse Papers in. Mostly just assessment forms and stuff like that, but still! A neat clipboard that opens up! And has a place for your pen! But mine's a frosty purple and white instead of boring gray like that one in the link. I took Delia with me to pick it out and she chose purple over blue.

In other news, my classmate who plays World of Warcraft (on a different server, and she plays ALLY! EEEUW!) is probably going to crash with us for a couple of months. It could be quite cool. Hopefully it will at least not suck. :)

At Least He's Decorative

.... if he can't be smart.

Our cat Ringo, the fluffy white and gray doofus cat, likes to leap up onto the bed and throw himself down in the center of it when he sees that we are about to make it up. This is what we call "being helpful." As in, "That Ringo, he sure is 'being helpful' tonight." (roll eyes)

Tonight we performed the blanket toss with him on one of the blankets on the bed. You know, where one person grabs two corners of the blanket and the other grabs the other two corners (assuming that your blanket has four corners, as most do I suppose, but one can't be specific enough in this global community), and you fling the blanket up in the air on the count of three, and whomever is on the blanket (in this case, young Ringo) is thrown up in the air in an exhilarating fashion.

Generally, a cat who has prior experience with the blanket toss will make itself scarce if threatened with it a second time, or even with just a second toss. Not so our Ringo! We tossed him ceiling-ward several times and although he looked slightly peevish, he stayed put on the blanket despite having every opportunity to escape. He figured out how to attach himself with his claws on the first toss and thereafter used this to limit his trajectory.

Say what you will about his intelligence (or lack thereof), he is at least a good sport.

Tired of Eating Boiled Walrus????

Then try a recipe from the University of Alaska Cooperative Extension Service's pamphlet, "Walrus in the Cooking Pot."


My friend Elizabeth sent me this when she was living in Nome (where we visited for New Year's 2004, when I was pregnant) and I have actually made one of the recipes, "Walrus Meat Loaf", although owing to the scarcity of walrus meat in our local supermarket I substituted the more pedestrian ground beef. It's quite good, hardly tastes like walrus at all really...

I was lunching at school today, having some leftover Walrus Loaf from last night, and a classmate passing by told me that it smelled good. I told her I'd bring her a copy of the recipe booklet so I decided to share the cover of it, at least, with you all as well. Enjoy!

Army Nurses

So on Monday the Army plied us nursing students with pizza and sodas, for which we paid by viewing a powerpoint presentation as we ate. Ah, the glories of the military life!

I don't doubt that there are many opportunities one might enjoy in being an Army nurse, but until they start offering domestic partner benefits, I'll stay in the private sector, thank you.

At any rate, it got me to thinking about my own glory days. And so I give to you this tiny memento of my brief, yet illustrious Army career. I am all of 18 years old in this photo, and washed out of basic not too far before graduation because my feet, which are as discussed previously in this blog not actual weight bearing structures, began to trouble me. They had never before bothered me but what with the Army's delightful boots, by about week 8 I could hardly walk. I was sent home in a blaze of anonymity, never to darken the Army's doorstep again.

It's time

To come clean to the few non Multiply friends I have...

A while back I started using Multiply to blog. I was sucked in by a longtime blog friend and now that I'm there, I'm hooked. The problem is that when I imported my existing blog from blogger, it came in all scrambled date-wise and that really annoyed me. So I can't let go of my old blog, yet I only keep it hanging around for sentimental reasons.

So, old blog pals, come on over to my new site! I'll continue to cross-post but I notice that pictures aren't enlargeable if you click on them with cross-posting, and links don't always work. So come on down for the real deal!

Scritchy has LEFT THE BUILDING!

So this morning I took off early and went and sat in Starbucks and read textbooks (like reading for enjoyment, except not enjoyable in any way whatsoever) and after a bit I checked my phone -- saw someone called from home -- called back and talked to my brother-in-law who is kinda camping out with us for a bit, and he told me HE CAUGHT THE RAT! He'd fashioned some kind of humane trap from a paint stir-stick, a kitty-litter bucket, a big chunk of 2x8 lumber, and some tasty peanut butter. Evidently the idea was that the rat would climb into the bucket to get at the peanut butter which was smeared on the stick and somehow that would release the big board which would then come down on top of the bucket and cover it up. And it worked! With no harm to Scritchy!

Sure enough, I got home and we trooped out to the garage and there was Scritchy, very unhappily ensconced in a kitty-litter bucket. We tried to get a picture but he kept randomly leaping upward at us and going "SQUEEK!" which freaked me out so I gave it up. I'd rather we got him the heck outta my garage safely without a picture than keep trying to get the pic and end up accidentally letting him go free. Although maybe he would have been so traumatized that he would have left for good... At any rate, it's all academic now as at the very moment he is being released at a big swampy park a few blocks away, hopefully never to return.

Naturally, it started raining like mad as soon as Doug left to release the rat, so I'm sure they are both dampened. What price freedom, even for a rat!

Tornado!

Okay, so we live in a part of the country that is not prone to tornados. Every few years there is a small one that doesn't cause any damage.

Yesterday, though, we had a Real! Actual! Tornado! It even demolished a mobile home! In the time honored tradition of tornados worldwide! And tore the roof off a KFC, and some other stuff, but thankfully no one was injured.

I was at school and the tornado passed a bit to the north of us there, we saw the lightning and heard the thunder and the rain just dumped everywhere, but we didn't know it was a Real! Actual! Tornado! until our program director stopped by the skills lab to let us know.

Yep, we'll be talking about that Real! Actual! Mobile-Home-Destroying! Tornado! down t' the general store for a right smart time to come, by cracky!

Argh

So now I'm in the office working on school stuff (that's code for "wasting time blogging") and I keep having to shove Wilbur, the small black cat, off the desk. She's quite tricky, waits until I start to think, "Ah, she's forgotten about me and is off bugging the crap out of someone else," and then she STRIKES LIKE THE COBRA! It's worse if I've recently eaten toast and have neglected to take my plate to the kitchen. I have never met a cat more drawn to toast crumbs.

This afternoon I took the small fry to the library for a bit of fun, knowing as I do that I won't have much time to do such things in the near future. I'm sad thinking about how much time I won't be spending with her in the coming months.

But! To make up for it, okay more like to have something super cool to look forward to at the end of summer, I am in the preliminary planning stages for a fabulous trip to Disneyland in September!

I mentioned to my brother and sister-in-law that I would like to take Delia there soon, despite my better half's objections that it would be better to wait until she's 6 or 7. I say, take her now and then take her again when she's 6 or 7 or whatever. She'll have a ball no matter what. So anyway when I mentioned that, my SIL said, we're overdue for a trip to Disneyland, let me know when you're thinking of doing it and we can all do it together. I made that call yesterday, out of nowhere I just decided to do it, and today we started discussing various game plans and preferences. So far it looks as if we will drive down, soon after Labor Day most likely, and there is a possibility that we might stay at BetterHotelChain because my nephew works there and can get us cheap rooms. We will stay for five full days, if not longer.

I have not been to Disneyland in over ten years, J has not been since she was about Delia's age (3ish), and of course Delia has never been. I'm terribly excited. :)

So, now to hit the books. Good night, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Day Two in the life of a nursing student

So yesterday was the long-anticipated First Day of Nursing School. I barely slept a wink the night before, so anxious was I. I had spent Sunday cleaning the office out, (which involved about five hours worth of long overdue filing and where I now sit in very tidy and studious splendor), and failed to get to bed at much of a decent hour, what with all that World of Warcraft I had to play to quell my anxiety.

Anyway, yesterday morning I headed up to Euphemism College's building on the campus of Hyperbole University, a shiny new campus with shiny new buildings and shiny new Extremely Cold Weather up there on its little hill above Bedroom Community. I parked using my spanky parking pass, hiked across campus pulling my Highly Recommended Rolling Backpack, and settled into a spot outside the classroom to read a bit before going in at the appointed hour. Around me I recognized several other students from the orientation (or, as I like to think of it, The Butt-Numbing Marathon of Confusion) last month, all trying to read our incomprehensible text, and all struggling along at roughly the same page I had given up on myself. This made me feel much better.

Class was more like another orientation, this time introducing us to The Module System of Learning, by which they mean things like Now That You are Adult College Students You Must Be Self Directed, and Here is the Testing Center Where You Are Forbidden To Speak Or Ingest Anything, and If You Cheat We Will Banish You to a Special Circle of Hell in Which You Will Flip Burgers For All Eternity And So Will Your Children, Forever And Ever Amen. Then we were made to review endless reams of Course Outlines, Syllabi, and Modules. Oh my. We are very nearly assimilated, I think. Resistance is futile.

We then had an hour off to get some dinner, the very limited cafe having closed inexplicably at 3pm, after which we had to come back for another class. I spent my break eating Drive-Thru Crap In A Sack and listening to a Harry Potter book-on-cd in the car. Once again we were further Oriented, more documents were reviewed in extreme detail, and the instructor very kindly let us out a bit early after telling us we all were "looking a bit crispy."

I went home, avoided anything that smacked of schoolwork, and again could not sleep.

Today I went to the first session of yet another class, became yet further Oriented, and made the acquaintance of a classmate whom I witnessed playing World of Warcraft on her laptop on the break the night before. Hallelujah. Let there be gaming.

After a bit of a nap today, I trotted on down to the Euphemism College Seriously Overpriced Campus Monopoly Bookstore and purchased what surely must be the world's ugliest tote bag, which comes filled with supplies for use in the Skills Lab and therefore costs ninety bucks. We have been warned time and again that we are NOT to open any of the supplies until bidden to do so in class, and furthermore that Supplies Are Not For Use On Any Living Human, and are for Practice Use on Manikins Only. Therefore, I merely fondled the packaging and did not open my Foley Catheter Tray or any of my various and sundry Syringes.

Tomorrow we learn how to draw up medications from ampules and vials, which we must do with at least 80 percent accuracy. (Does anybody else find that a bit scary?) Thursday we will orient further, I imagine with three more hours of informative presentations about our clinical placements (where we will trail along after others trying not to look like student nurses) and then we will spend the afternoon practicing our CNA skills on the hapless manikins in the skills lab. Good times!

More about Todd

I still cross-post to my original blog site on blogspot, and today I got a comment about the post I made about my Christmas tree, which ended with a memory of my friend Todd.

Maria said...

I found your blog today when I was doing a web search for Todd. We were friends in high school and though we lost touch, I'd wondered about him so often over the years. I then heard the terrible news about his loss when his body was found.

Yep, everything you say of him was true. Funny, talented, and so much more.

Just wanted to say it was nice to hear another memory of him.

I wanted to add that once a year or two after his disappearance, I was talking about him to a mutual friend, another gay man named Bart. I had had a dream that I was in Las Vegas, someplace I have never been in real life, and I was at some kind of conference or seminar or something with a group of people, like co-workers. We were walking across the hotel parking lot in the very early morning -- it was very vivid, this dream -- to a white van that we were going to get into to drive to wherever it was we were going, and here walking toward me, grinning and bright eyed and big as life, came Todd. He was wearing his jean jacket and looked just fine, as good as I'd ever seen him. I said to him, "Todd! What are you doing here? Everybody thinks you're dead!" And he said very animatedly, "Oh, I'm not dead! I'm in Las Vegas!"

When I told Bart about this dream, he got a very odd look on his face and told me that he had also dreamed that Todd was someplace hot and sandy.

Now I am pretty sure that when drag queens die, they go to that Great Vegas in the Sky.

New Year's Eve

We went to the zoo on New Year's Eve. We typically don't really do anything special for New Year's Eve since we don't really drink much and aren't the partygoing type. Usually we stay home and watch a movie or something like that. But, this year we thought, oh what the heck, let's splurge. Let's wander around a mostly closed zoo in frigid weather.

First we went to Delia's favorite restaurant, Red Womster. We went there last Mother's Day with J's family and Delia became enamored of the big tank of doomed lobsters in the lobby, and since then it has been the watermark for fine dining. "We're going to a restaurant for dinner tonight," we'd tell her. "Is it RED WOMSTER?!" she'd yell with the type of enthusiasm most people reserve for topics such as DISNEYLAND or maybe MILLION DOLLAR LOTTERY PRIZE. "No," we'd say, "it's the Mexican one with the big bell." (This is a local place located in an old church, not Taco Bell, though we do go there from time to time. Okay, a lot. It's cheap and she likes burritos! Gah!) "Oh," she'd say, somewhat crestfallen. She couldn't be completely bummed since she does love the Mexican place too, but RED WOMSTER is clearly the paragon of restauranty perfection in her book. Such is her deep, enduring love for it that my mother made her some flannel pajamas with lobsters all over them for her birthday. (Who makes lobster print flannel, and why? Lordy.)

Anyway, after a fine meal, and some obligatory lobster-gazing, we headed off to the zoo, which features a sort of festival of lights this time of year. We had bundled up fairly well and were prepared for the sticker shock of spending probably twenty five bucks to walk around looking at essentially a bazillion LED lights strung all over. However once we got to the zoo we discovered a couple of surprises: first, that we'd each neglected a crucial area of bundling, (more on that in a moment) and second, that entry to the zoo was completely free! We had only to pay for the train ride, a total of $4.50 for all three of us. Now, if there is anything that I do love, it is an unexpected bargain, or as we call it (loving it as we do, we have a name for it) the secret sale. Having paid our tiny train fare, we bounded joyously into the park, prepared to enjoy every cent of our good fortune. Okay, most it was just me that bounded. Okay, I walked, but with a bounce in my step and a wiggle in my walk. Or something.

Once inside, we strolled around with reckless abandon. My, it was chilly. Oh dear, and a bit breezy. Glad I brought gloves.


Sadly, I do not have photos of what to me was one of the two surprise highlights of the trip (besides the secret sale!). While much of the park was off-limits, entry was permitted to a few of the animal exhibits, among them the penguin house. The viewing area was dimly lit so that we could see our way around, but the actual penguin living space was not, so it was quite dark in there. When we entered, I saw people holding their cellphones up to the glass, which attracted the penguins. Lucky for me, while my cellphone is quite antiquated and hardly has a lighted display of any kind, I do have a tiny keychain LED light, which I then shined up against the glass, and huge numbers of penguins, (okay, maybe four or five), immediately swam up to the light. And followed it when I moved it around, like goldfish in a tank at the pet store when they think you're going to feed them. It was extremely cool and I wanted to stay there all night, but eventually I had to bid them a fond adieu and move on.

We ambled around, shared an elephant ear, that sort of thing, then headed over to the train just in time to meet up with our good friends Karen and John, and their offspring Baby Katie, which was Surprise No. 2. I mean meeting up with them. (Baby Katie was indeed a lovely surprise, but that was over a year ago.) There are two trains that run the loop, one a tiny diesel engine and one a miniature steam engine, and we were fortunate enough to get on the steam engine one. (But not fortunate to get into a car with solid sides. More on that in a moment.) By now it was fully dark, and it was pure fun to chuff-chuff-chuff around the the park looking at the multitudes of lights and waving to the other park-goers.


About the solid-side vs. non-solid-side issue: the doors on our tiny train car were slatted, permitting the icy wind to frolic hither and yon through and among our collected buttcheeks, plastered as they were onto hard uninsulated fiberglass seats, revealing the crucial area of bundling neglect. Note to self: next year wear some long-johns. Delia and Katie were spared as they sat in our laps, but I know I wasn't the only adult that walked away with an ass like a solid block of bifurcated ice.

Once we wrapped up the train ride, we were sufficiently chilled to want to go home, so we said our goodbyes and Happy-New-Years and off we went. Once Delia was in bed, we fired up "Pirates of the Caribbean 3" and I shivered on the couch under two blankets. We turned on the gas fireplace and before too long, J's brother was sitting at the opposite end of the dining room, barely able to see the TV, unable to take the heat. I was still cold but consented to turning off the fireplace and opening the door for a minute or two to bring the temperature back to merely tropical.

At midnight we toasted one another, watched a few fireworks out the windows, and shuffled off to bed.

Here's to 2008. Happiness and prosperity to you all, and especially good health and well being. :)

Tell me ALL about yourselves!

(Hypnotism voice, swinging gold pocket watch in front of you:) You know you want to tell me aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall about yourselves...

1.)Q. Can you cook?
A.

2.)Q. What was your dream growing up?
A.

3.)Q. What talent do you wish you had?
A.

4.)Q. If I bought you a drink what would it be?
A.

5.)Q. Favorite vegetable?
A.

6.)Q. What was the last book you read?
A.

7.)Q. What zodiac sign are you ?
A

8.)Q. Any Tattoos and/or Piercings?
A.

9.)Q. Worst Habit?
A.

10.)Q. If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
A.

11.)Q. What is your favorite sport?
A

12.)Q. Negative or Optimistic attitude?
A.

13. )Q. What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
A.

14.)Q. Worst thing to ever happen to you?
A.

15.)Q. Tell me one weird fact about you.
A

16.)Q. Do you have any pets?
A.

17.)Q. What if i showed up at your house unexpectedly?
A.

18.)Q. What was your first impression of me?
A.

19.)Q. Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
A.

20.)Q. If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be?
A.

21.)Q. Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
A

22.)Q. What color eyes do you have?
A.

Q. Ever been arrested?
A.

24.)Q. Bottle or can soda?
A.

25.)Q. If you won $10,000 dollars today, what would you do with it?
A.

26.)Q. If you could write a book what would it be?
A.

Q. What 's your favorite place to hang at?
A.

28.)Q. Do you believe in ghosts?
A.

29.)Q. Favorite thing to do in your spare time?
A.

30.)Q. Do you swear a lot?
A.

31.)Q. Biggest pet peeve?
A.

32.)Q. In one word, how would you describe yourself?
A.

33.)Q. Do you believe/appreciate romance?
A.

34.)Q. If you could spend 12 hours with me and ask/do anything you like, what would it be?
A.

35)Q. Do you believe in God?
A.

36.)Q. Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?
A.

Merry Christmas to All

It is over now. At last. And I'm not sure that it is just because I have so much to do before school starts (and ZOMG AFTER SCHOOL STARTS AHHHHHH) but I'm ready to take the tree down tomorrow. I won't, but I may spend New Year's Eve Day doing so.

Santa visited, with respectable results. Delia got many gifts and very satisfyingly played for a long time with the Playmobil My Takealong Farm that was her main gift from us. I mean Santa. She went to bed with her stuffed tiger and leopard and triceratops toys.

My mom got her about a bazillion gifts, from clothes to toys to little odds and ends. I have always felt a very strong gratitude, like an awe really, that she is so well loved not just by me but by others, friends and family.

I myself scored a few nice things, from a pearly grey fleece zip-up to a stethoscope to some cash and a few gift cards. Also a sudoku and a mah-johngg game for the Palm. J and I set a limit so we wouldn't spend outrageous amounts of money so it worked out well.

I went out ages ago, just after Thanksgiving I would say, and got J a steelhead rod and reel. Her brother was visiting us and we sneaked out (Delia in tow) and got it while J was sleeping in one morning. He's been here again since last Wednesday or so and it's been really hard not to give her the rod early because they went fishing a couple of times. But then there wouldn't have been as much for her to open Christmas morning and I would have felt bad. The wait was worth it, she was very surprised and pleased to have her own rig and she and her brother took it out today and fished again. No luck bringing home a fish but they went and got her a few of the bits and pieces of this and that to put in her tackle box, and sat around tonight tying leaders on these gigantic red hooks -- I've only ever fished for trout so I'm used to little weensy hooks, and these things look like you bring Moby Dick in with 'em by comparison.

I took Little Miss Exhausted out with me to the college bookstore today and got the three reference materials for which I bought my Palm: Taber's Cyclopedic Medical Dictionary, Davis's Drug Guide for Nurses, and Mosby's Diagnostic and Laboratory Test Reference. Let me just say right here how amazed I am, that in about a half hour's time I used three skinny little cd's to load three whole books worth of information on something that will fit in a cargo pocket. I'm not that easily amazed by technology anymore (such the jaded geek! not!) but it blew my mind that this is possible. The super bonus was that one of the items came with a free prize, a little game called Shuffle. You know, because I don't have enough ways to procrastinate. Anyway this will eliminate the need to carry all those books with me to my clinicals, and find a place to put them, and have to run back and check them, etc. Yay!

Just in case any of you are wondering: didn't hear from my Dad. Other than the Holiday Pic, that is. Which did not contain any personal greetings. To be fair, I didn't call him either. Why, WHY do I feel a pang of guilt about this? Do you think I should call him? GAH!

Scritchy

Christmas, HO! (caution: smarminess ensueth)

This afternoon we head to my Mom's for the first of the Christmas Trifecta of Gatherings. I'll be starting on chowder shortly to take with us, then we will pack up the goods and drive the hour or so to get there. We exchange and open gifts there with my Mom and stepdad, my brother and sister-in-law and their four boys. It's a lot of fun.

We'll return tonight, then of course Santa will visit tonight in the wee hours so that in the morning gifts can be opened. This is the first year of real anticipation for Delia so I'm really looking forward to seeing her reaction when she comes out to see the stuff Santa brought.

Then in the early afternoon we go to J's parents' house for the end of the festivities. We exchange more presents with her family -- six kids under the age of 8 will be racing around like little maniacs, gift wrap will literally be flying through the air, and with any luck there will be only minor drama.

So, we'll be opening gifts in three shifts. Delia will be all burned out by the end of it. I bought her waaaaaaay too many presents... It's just so hard to stop once you start! And when things are stressful I just cling tighter to all the people who mean so much to me. Sometimes that comes out in the form of gifts. :) Don't question it, just enjoy it, people...

I find myself lately being more and more overty grateful for the everyday things that I have and enjoy. It's distracting and sometimes makes me all weepy. I hope you all have the same problem.

Christmas Pageantry

Today I loaded up the small fry and hauled her off to church. My attendance has been spotty lately with the usual One Thing, or sometimes Another, but I felt pretty strongly that I should at least make an appearance today. As a courtesy.

In a departure from the usual homespun staged performance (ours is a small church without a lot of technical gadgetry, no video displays or fancy lighting etc.) they opted this year for a Pickup Pageant. Meaning, the bare bones of the cast was in place and this morning the pastor made a call for the speaking parts: Animal 1, Animal 2, Cow, Sheep, Angel 1, etc. The Voice of God part (shortened to "V of G" in the script) was passed around among the congregation to narrate different bits of the service.

I stepped forward and offered to co-Sheep with Delia, so she was bedecked in a sheep costume (of which I wore the hat with ears while speaking my part) and we huddled at the front of the church with the others. (When we got up there Delia looked around at the doll in the manger and said, “It’s all about Jesus today huh Mama?” We’re not super Jesusy people, nor is it a super “Jesus is my best friend” type church, so I found this to be rather amusing.) It was really very fun, with lots of overt coaching by the pastor and choir director, and everyone seemed charmed by the whole thing. I think it might be my favorite pageant so far.

The Long-Awaited Santa Photo, plus Bonus Redneck Xmas Pic!!

Without further ado may I present to you, my beloved and long-suffering internets:


Delia on Santa's lap! She's not dressed in Holiday Finery (tm) because this was totally impromptu, but that smile is genuine. She had just told him all about her Christmas list and without too much coaxing permitted a photo op for her adoring fans. Ah, how she loves the paparazzi! And how the camera loves her!

And since I had the scanner all limbered up and ready, I went ahead and captured the seasonal greetings of that elusive species, The Common Redneck.
Note the RV Wear (tm) holiday-themed sweater plumage of the female, the western-style shirt adorning the male, and of course the male's majestic Santa Hat crest, seen only in the month of December. They stand proudly before their oversized vehicle, used for migration toward the nesting sites of only the female, as this is a matriarchal species in which the male's lineage is jettisoned once the couple has bonded. Theoretically this species mates for life, although this often proves difficult for the male. Note the exhibition of the fifth-wheel trailer's pushouts, as well as the dual rear-wheels needed on the truck to haul this behemoth down the road. Happy trails, Common Rednecks! See you in a few years! Maybe!

It must be seen to be believed.

My Dad sent the world's tackiest photo Christmas card.

It's a picture of him in a green Western style shirt with red plaid yoke and a Santa hat, his wife in one of those holiday themed sweaters (you know the ones I'm talking about). They are posing proudly with their pride and joy: a huge white pickup truck with rear duallies, hooked up to an enormous 5th wheel trailer which has all its pushouts pushed out.

This pretty much says all you need to know about my father and his wife.

Done and Done

Mailed my last entry requirements to Euphemism College/Hyperbole University today. I had to send a state patrol check (basically a copy of my extensive rap sheet), proof of the incredibly painful MMR shot I had a couple weeks ago, and a signed statement from the Nursing program's Policies and Practices Handbook, wherein I agree to be a student nurse peon, refrain from mistreating my patients or divulging identifying information about them, and submit my portfolio in a timely manner or fail my classes. Whatever this portfolio is. One assumes that this will be made clear to one in due time.

I'm sure you're dying to know what's left. Well, having bought the enormous pile of books, obtained the required uniform, lab jacket, and shoulder patches, endured the several blood draws and vaccinations, submitted my fingerprints, jumped through the hoops and kissed the various assembled heinies, what could possibly be left? Just this: purchase shoes, and submit yet another set of fingerprints to Impossibly Large Governmental Hospital.

I'll actually be doing my actual clinicals at a smaller local manifestation of said Hospital, but they require a pilgrimage to the mother ship by way of introduction. They informed me of this via an email that implied that I would be doing my clinicals at ILGH, so to find out later that I must only visit there one time was an enormous relief. To submit my fingerprints (the FBI report already received by my school must just not be good enough for these folk) I must either park elsewhere and ride public transit up the big stupid hill that ILGH is perched atop, or else rely on kind friends to drop me off and pick me up. And also entertain my child whilst I am indisposed. A tremendous pain in the dark meat, to be sure, but at least it's only once. When I thought that I would be doing my weekly clinicals there, having therefore to drive half an hour into Metropolis, then park the car and jump on a bus and be there by SIX A.M., I was well and truly miffed. As it is, the Kinder Gentler Governmental Hospital is a scant 15 minutes away and there is parking in the general vicinity. Phew!

The shoe question is another story. Having been informed in no uncertain terms that Crocs or Croc-oid shoes are Unacceptable In Every Conceivable Way, I am now obliged to go out and try shoes on. These approved shoes must be white, can be athletic shoes, and must have a closed toe and an enclosed heel. No straps. Never mind that fully fifty percent of the health care workers I see on the job are wearing colorful Crocs of all sorts. We, as nursing students, may not wear them. And I am loath to bring my malformed, unsuitable, non-weight-bearing feet to the attention of anyone in a position to influence my school career, so I will not make any further issue of this, outside of incessantly bitching about it here on my blog and to anyone with ears outside of school.

And, has anyone tried to find white uniform shoes at an actual store? I tried on the one pair I found at the bookstore that looked halfway promising, but they were pinchy and horrible. If you have an insatiable curiosity about what my feet are shaped like, try this: sandwich your foot between two pieces of wax paper. Pound with a meat mallet or similar until your foot is shaped like that of a duck, goose, or other web-footed creature. Pay special attention to the arch area, whacking it sharply until it collapses completely. Now try and find shoes that are not narrow across the toes, can accomodate a full-foot orthotic, and aren't ugly. I defy you to do so. The shoes that fit and aren't ugly are along the lines of Keens and Crocs.

The Annual Christmas Photo

Okay, so tonight after some resistance (the small one can put up a bit of a fight these days), we took a few pictures tonight and even ordered them up at Costco. I love Costco for photos. You order 'em off the internet and then go pick 'em up later, or even have them mailed but I'm too impatient for that. In fact, I'm going to go pick them up after Delia goes to bed tonight so I can do up the cards and mail them by Monday.

Without further ado, here are the two I had to choose from when all was said and done:


We ended up choosing the first one, although I like them both nearly equally. We are also sending out a close-up of her, one of the ones in the album here on multiply. The one of her at the park. Not so much the one of her being a fashion plate with the plaids and the stripes and the rubber boots...

Tree time (warning: sad at the end.)

So we got the tree up Monday night and Tuesday morning Delia and I decorated it. It turned out pretty well I'd say.

My Mom made us a great tree skirt, it's a white fabric with little presents on it and she quilted it with red metallic thread and put gold rick-rack around the edge and it is just adorable.

I have highlighted a few items of interest on the tree:

First, the green rhinoceros. I bought this at a department store clearance sale when I was about 15 or 16. It's your standard shiny glass ornament but it's shaped like a rhinoceros and it's green. To me it's just not Christmas without the green rhinoceros.

Next, Wonder Woman. We bought her at a garage sale a few years back. I generally am not that fond of merchandising on my tree, i.e. no Mickey Mouse or Spongebob ornaments or whatever, but something about WW just cracks me up. Another exception to this is that we have a few ornaments featuring "Snoopy and that Wittle Pigeon," as Delia puts it. They are plastic, therefore durable, and Delia likes to play with them, so we keep them.

At the bottom is the tree skirt, which I know this is not the best picture of it but at least you see it in its natural habitat.

To the right at the bottom are some ornaments I've labeled "Todd's ornaments." Todd Asay was a friend of mine who disappeared one night in May of 1986. His stuff was still there in his apartment, his bank account intact.

They found Todd's skeletal remains years later, buried in a water-heater box under a shed in his killer's former yard. This was on Christmas Eve day in 1999. He'd been shot to death, maybe after the murderer discovered Todd wasn't a woman. (Tip to men picking up prostitutes: the ones you pick up around the gay clubs might not be women. Just FYI.) The only "good" news is that they did catch his killer. Unfortunately it was after he'd also murdered his estranged wife in a grocery store parking lot. I was at work with my latte and my paper and when I opened the paper, there was the article about Todd, all these years later.

He was a drag queen and a dancer at a female-impersonator club (Darcelle's, it's quite infamous hereabouts) and occasional prostitute. He was also a great guy, a sweet man, funny and smart. One year he and I made Christmas stockings and he made these ornaments out of the scraps. I still have my stocking. Delia plays with the ornaments. I'm not sure when, if, or what I'll tell her about Todd. He would have loved her. He should be here.

I think about him every year around this time, when I unpack the Christmas stuff. It makes the holidays rather bittersweet.

Student's Remorse

Okay, so I worked really hard to get here. I'm about to enter nursing school. I took all the prereqs, got all the shots and tests done, submitted my fingerprints, etc. etc. Now, I'm starting to have some second thoughts...

Today I went to Euphemism College and paid my tuition. That was close to a thousand dollars. Then I went to the bookstore. Maybe I should have waited a day or two, for the shock to wear off.

First I tried on a lab coat. Mmmmm, all starched and white and professional... And on sale. Yay! Then I picked up some shoulder patches, because the handbook clearly states that we must sport one on the shoulder of our scrub top and our lab coat. So far so good. Now we move on to the textbooks.

Okay. Here's a couple I need... "Required".... "First year students take one of these pieces of paper up to the register." Okay.

"Brace yourself," said the cashier, "this might sting a bit."

SEVEN HUNDRED THIRTY FOUR DOLLARS AND EIGHT CENTS later, I leave feeling like that bear on the nature program, the one with the dart in its butt and a big NO.8 spraypainted on it and a radio collar around its neck. Dazedly I drive to the loading dock and wait for a chipper woman of a certain age to bring the hand truck. The hand truck with boxes of books. Plural. She cheerfully hefted them into my car while telling me that they used to pack it all in one BIG box and this way is much easier.

I give you, my beloved internets, a photo of today's haul. This is not including the three titles that I will get in pda format after my Palm arrives, which should be a couple more days.



The top book on the left and the top two on the right were the ones I got off the shelf; the rest are from the boxes. I guess this is why they recommend a rolling backpack, which we were told by the students we met at orientation was absolutely necessary. I have one that I bought off the interwob but I worry now that it's not going to be big enough...

The good news (if indeed there is any) is that we will not need to buy many more books in the next two years.

Next task: shoes... The ones I hoped would work from the bookstore are too narrow in the toes. I'd be cranky and exhausted by the end of the day on clinical days. Nobody needs that. So, I'll need to get some tennis shoes or something.

What is it with the lights?

I'm putting the lights on the tree.

How is it that I put the perfectly-functioning lights away in January, all carefully coiled and in a protective box, where they remain untouched all year, and in December there is always at least one string that doesn't work? And where do all the extra tiny bulbs go? And why don't they fit, and why are they so hard to pull out?

This year I'm buying some LED lights if I can find them on clearance the day after Christmas.

I'm about two minutes away from being done with the lights but I'm weary of the scratchy needles on my arms and the lights that are burned out and the fact that I'm doing this by myself as always.

For Crying Out Loud

So this evening my cousin calls me. Here is an open letter to my Dad in response to that call.

(Backstory: my Dad called me on my 40th birthday to tell me he was moving.)

Dear Dad,

Okay, fine, you're moving across country again (which you said you'd NEVER do). Fine, I can accept that. You got rid of your whole household of stuff by offering it to other people before mentioning it to your kids. Fine, fine. Now, evidently (since I'm hearing this second hand, I can only guess), you feel that your dog is reacting badly to all the disruption and you're worried that he won't do well on the cross-country drive, so rather than act like any normal person and maybe, oh, I don't know, talk to a veterinarian? Get some medication to calm the dog? -- you've decided that you might just have to dump the stupid dog off on Grandma. Not that she's offered to take him. Or anything like that.

Dad, she's 81 years old. She lives in a small trailer and travels a lot in a small motor home, she doesn't have a lot of room. She has a limited income. Are you going to pay for the dog's food and vet bills? I sincerely doubt you've even considered any of that. She already has a well-behaved dog that comes when it's called and doesn't pee on the rug every ten minutes. YOUR dog is obnoxious, poorly-behaved, runs away if it gets off leash, and has peed on my rug every single time it enters my home. It has bitten more than once and barks at everything that moves.

If you need to find it a home, maybe you grow a pair, get off your ass, and find a rescue operation or no-kill shelter that could find it a home? It might involve writing a check, but at least you wouldn't be sticking an old lady with the world's most irritating dog.

If you won't consider that, maybe you should think about how you treated Grandma's old dog. You were watching her while Grandma was gone someplace, and the dog (with its history of terrible abuse) freaked out, so rather than, oh, I don't know? Calling Grandma? Consulting a vet? -- you took the dog out on a walk that only you returned from. The kind that involves a gun and a shovel. I'm pretty sure that around here it's against the law to kill an animal without cause, but perhaps the laws there are different. If it had been my dog, you'd have faced charges. An animal that is suffering deserves a quiet, dignified death, not to be taken on a walk and shot by some asshole with a pistol in his pocket. The only consolation is that hopefully the dog never knew what hit her and was killed instantly, without pain.

And not even your super-annoying dog deserves that kind of fate. He's only being himself, as you raised him to be.

I used to only think of you as a thoughtless, self-centered jerk who usually kind of meant well. Now I'm not so sure.

So yeah, you might hear my name mentioned as one of the many family members who opposes this great idea you've had about abdicating responsibility for your dog, who by the way worships the ground you walk on. Probably you'll get all offended and use this as an excuse to avoid me. (Like you did when I was forced to ask you to stay somewhere else the night we brought the baby home from the hospital, because I knew that it would never occur to you that we might want some privacy that night.) At one point I might have declined to get involved because I didn't want to offend you, but, like my cousin, in fact like all my cousins, I'm just tired of how everything is about you.

I'm actually pretty glad you're moving back to Maryland. At least I won't have to feel obligated to drive up to see you, or put you up as you pass through town (usually on little or no notice), or grit my teeth and say it's okay when you miss another one of my daughter's birthdays. Like you missed all of them so far. (Three for three so far, Dad! Woo!)

IT SHIPPED!

Just obsessively checked my email for about the tenth time tonight and found a message that my Palm TX just shipped! YAY!

I ordered it ages ago (okay, almost two weeks) and was notified that it was an "advanced sale" item and would ship later. Up to ten working days. Which was today. It did say that on the website but I've gotten so used to ordering and having stuff shipped immediately or within a day or two that this two week business was killing me. I kept re-reading the email as if somehow it would become clear how it was possible that I ordered something that wouldn't be shipped for weeks. Because this is America and it's the 21st Century and these kinds of things only happen to other people and not me.

But it shipped today via FedEx and eventually it will reach me! Perhaps Monday even! Or Tuesday!

Let us all celebrate! Next round's on me!

Feelin' Even More Saucy

So The Best House Guest in the Whole Wide World has consented to do the legwork for me on Monday, when parking passes go on sale at Hyperbole University (where the nursing program at Euphemism College actually conducts its classes). This means getting up pretty darn early to drive out to campus and stand in line with bleary-eyed students from all walks of life. Must be early to get cheapest price! I cannot emphasize how much TBHGITWWW has completely saved my ass this past week or two.

Anyhow, in order to purchase my pass she must bring a copy of my schedule, thus demonstrating that I am a student of Hyperbole/Euphemism and therefore qualified to own one of their precious parking passes. I'm not sure why this matters so much since the campus sits high atop an otherwise unoccupied hill, far from anything else a person might want to park near, and parking everywhere else is free anyway out that far from civilization. But I digress.

So in order to print a copy of my schedule, it was necessary for me to log on to Online Services. Enter your student ID here, it says, and then your Global Pin. I dutifully did so (ever obedient as I am) only to be told in large, shocking letters that I had ENTERED AN INCORRECT STUDENT I.D. NUMBER AND/OR PIN.

Well, crap. Now what do I do? It's Friday night and the stupid offices are all closed until Monday morning. Why did I put this off until Friday night? Now I'll have to bring three dollars in exact change every single day and hope that the daily-pay lot doesn't fill up. Crap crap crap.

So, I did what anybody would do, I re-entered my allegedly incorrect information several more times just in case. Because, um, that works sometimes? Not really, but I was running out of options.

And then! I'm pretty sure Somebody Up There sensed my distress (and self-loathing) and gave me a little assist, because it occurred to me.. dimly... as if from long ago (roughly a week), that I had been issued, via email, a "registration pin." This extra-special gold-plated four-cornered pin is used only for (heavenly choral fanfare and spotlight on:) web registration.

Web registration. Web registration...

(wait for it, wait for it... )

Um... Maybe I can print my schedule off the web registration site?

ZOMG that's too easy.

So I fired up my email, retrieved the password, logged in and -- let me hear you sing it, sisters and brothers -- I printed up a copy of my schedule! I printed up TWO copies, just in case!

So now I'm feeling extra saucy. You all want to kiss me now and you don't know why, except I just told you. Now begone, shoo, you pesty internets. Leafff me to my thoughts, darlinks.

Random stuff

I'm feeling all saucy because I went out and put up the Christmas lights yesterday. I love this time of year and I'm enjoying the anticipation of how much Delia will love getting up in the morning on Christmas day and seeing that Santa came through with the goods. We went to the mall again today (as it is where the closest library branch is) and she patiently waited to see Santa again. We have a great Santa at the mall, his beard is real and he is very smiley.

We have had The Best Houseguest in the World staying here intermittently and it's beginning to take its toll on Wilbur the Cat. While Mr. Ringo Fluffypants (he of the enormous poofitude) has consented to occasional contact, Wilbur remains in hiding when Elizabeth is in the house, making for some serious neediness after she leaves. Tonight Wilbur was downright affectionate and friendly at levels never seen before in captivity. Generally her (Wilbur is female, one of those "inexperienced veterinary students" things) idea of affection is to deign to allow you to occupy the space beneath her, but tonight there was purring, nuzzling, and even a small amount of drooling. Long live the Queen!

Photos at last

Ok, so I haven't scanned the Santa picture, but I did retrieve a few things from the camera just now.

Here is my brother with his new Unimog (a 1963 Swiss 404, I'm told). I wanted a shot of the front end of it but the camera batteries had only one shot in them.


Here's a shot of the kids' table at Thanksgiving. Delia is the one in pink (on the left) scarfing jello.


Here's a shot of part of the mantel, taken in low light with no flash so it's kind of interesting.


The small framed photos are the ones we sent out in our Christmas cards in 2004 and 2005. I need to get a frame for last year's and put it up there too. The first year she was only about 6 months old and got freaked out sitting on the chair with no one holding onto her (I was just off camera ready to pounce if she tipped) so she wouldn't smile. We will take this year's as soon as the tree is up and decorated, so around next Tuesday or Wednesday probably.

More photos soon, I swear it!

Useless Blather

Seems like there are things I want to blog but no time to blog them. This is probably not a bad thing, since a lot of it would be so much useless blather. Nonetheless, this is my blog and I can blather if I want to. Brace yourselves! You may want to put a good show on in the background so you have something to amuse yourselves with whilst trudging through this entry. Don't say I didn't warn you!

Went today to get the final vaccination needed for nursing school. Good heavens. The MMR shot is the worst ever! It stings me! While I was at it, I went ahead and got a flu shot. What the heck. As long as I am going to feel crappy, I might as well feel as crappy as possible and get it over with in one go.

We are putting up some Christmas deck-uh-way-shuns tonight, Delia and I. She is playing with the entire cast of "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" stuffed animal collection (a total score at Costco a few years back) and singing carols (and interesting permutations thereof) under her breath, punctuating this occasionally with questions: "Can we go to the McDonalds?" "Mama, is it Christmas?" "Is this one Wudolph?" etc. I am decorating the piano and mantel for now; we get the tree on Sunday.

Okay, so we have perhaps the finest houseguest ever. Or one of the top five, surely. Elizabeth is back in town after a lengthy and enviable tour of England and the Continent, and while she is getting established she is available for some child-sitting and house-sitting duties. We have to be somewhere pretty early lately for occasional appointments, so she has graciously agreed to stay the night here and be with Delia in the mornings until we get back, for two such occasions this week. This solved the issue of "Who can we get to come to our house at 5:30 in the morning?" The possibilities for such a favor are remarkably few.

So all of this already makes her my current all time favorite person, but then when we returned today from the first of these appointments, we found that not only had she gotten Delia to and from preschool in one piece, dressed and breakfasted beforehand even, the house showed definite evidence of tidying. Like, significant evidence. Now the pressure is on to recreate this tidiness before she returns tomorrow afternoon....

Today

So today the small person in my house went off to a holiday craft activity at the preschool while I, the small person's doting mother, went off to MegaToyStore and found exactly what I wanted to find for her. She saw Santa at the mall last Monday with fantastic results.

Here is a brief recap of her previous interactions with Santa:
2004: she is 7 months old, no contact with Santa as she is exactly the type of baby to scream as if she is on fire if a stranger holds her.
2005: now 19 months old, she reluctantly approaches Santa at my insistence and cries so sorrowfully that my heart tears itself out and throws itself down on the astroturfed floor of the Santa-hut. We get a photo in which her woeful eyes are red and watery.
2006: we troll past Santa at a couple of malls. I make no attempt to engage her in any Santa contact. She is observed to regard him with a combination of suspicion and longing.

2007: Pay dirt!! She sees him from upstairs and beelines down to him. When he offers her a candy cane and asks her what she wants, she tells him: "A Wittewest Pet Shop, a baby snow weopard and a baby white tiger stuffed animal, and a twicewatops." She sits on his lap and we get a great picture (which I will scan later for your enjoyment). Later as we are leaving the mall she again beelines to him and accepts another candy cane. She is enchanted. IT IS TOO ADORABLE FOR WORDS. MY HEART IS MELTING. GAAAAAAAAH!

So, because I am a doting parent, I found the snow leopard and the baby white tiger stuffed animals. The Littlest Pet Shop toy is waiting for her via Grandma, and I'm not sure about the triceratops... (specifically it is an animated Imaginext one that she wants) Santa kinda already got a boatload of Playmobil instead...

Holiday Memey Goodness!

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate?

Hot chocolate. What the hell is a "nog?" And why does it taste like crap?

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?

When I was a child, all gifts were wrapped and some of them said Santa on them. Then on Christmas Eve while we were sleeping some NEW Santa ones appeared. But nowadays Santa's presents only appear under the tree while Delia is sleeping, which makes a lot more sense really.

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?

Multicolored everywhere. White lights are kinda boring IMHO. But, they can look pretty in some applications.

4. Do you hang mistletoe?

Nah.

5. When do you put your decorations up?

Usually two weeks or more before Christmas.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)?

Cranberry waldorf salad. My mom makes the kind that has whipped cream (or as we call it, "whup cream"), minimarshmallows, tart green apples, halved red grapes, cranberries, and sugar. She sets some aside with no walnuts in it because I am allergic.

7. Favorite holiday memory as a child?

Staying at my Aunt's one Christmas (on my Dad's side, my parents were divorced) with Grandma and Grandpa there sleeping on the floor like the rest of us kids. We woke up early (of course) and sang carols until the whole house was awake. We took turns choosing carols and when it was Grandpa's turn he started to sing, in his gravelly deep baritone, "You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille..." Grandma hollered, "Oh, FRED!" and smacked him. We kids thought it was the funniest thing ever.

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?

I don't remember, really.

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve?

We go to my Mom's on Christmas Eve and open gifts with Mom, stepdad, and my brother and his family. It is a blast. Then when we get home we sometimes open one small trinkety thing at home, but usually we just hit the sack. In the morning we go to J's family thing and open more gifts. It's Delia's idea of heaven, I think, to open gifts nonstop for two days solid.

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree?

I put on the Christmas music station, or else throw in a cd (favorite is "Charlie Brown Christmas", Vince Guaraldi), and then I (and only I) put the lights on. Then we just start hanging ornaments until they are all hung up. No real system other than that.

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it?

Love It!

12. Can you ice skate?

It hurts my feet. I used to roller skate A LOT though.

13. Do you remember your favorite gift?

Last year J gave me the most gorgeous tanzanite earrings and it was a complete surprise. I had never cried when I opened a gift before that.

14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you?

Seeing my family.

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert?

Hm... fudge... pumpkin pie... sugar cookies (the kind you make yourself and frost and everything).

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition?

Going to my Mom's on Christmas Eve. It feels so intimate. We eat a wonderful meal together and then open gifts. Now I'm getting all verklempt. *grabbing tissues*

17. What tops your tree?

An angel that used to be an ornament but graduated to topper status a few years back when I realized that the tinfoil-covered star with the picture of the Lucille Ball (or something like that) on it I had been using when I was roomies with a gay man wasn't doing it for me anymore.

18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?

Both! I like finding gifts people like, and I like the thought that someone has found something for me. Presumably because they like me.

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song?

The aforementioned Vince Guaraldi album, and then I also like "Sleigh Ride" as performed by Arthur Fiedler and the Boston Pops.

Least favorite: that stupid "Sugarplum Fairy" dance from the stupid Nutcracker. I effing can't stand the Nutcracker. Also, if I never have to hear "Feliz Navidad" by Jose Feliciano, again, it'll be the best Christmas present ever.

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?

Hm.... not a huge fan. The small ones they hand out at the tree lot are okay. Bigger than that and I'm overwhelmed. I do like those chalky little peppermint puff things that come individually wrapped though. Mmmmm....

21. What do you want for Christmas?

Tough one. The older I get the harder it is to come up with something. Starbucks cards, to keep me caffeinated as I begin nursing school, I guess. And to see my family. And for my daughter to be delighted and charmed on Christmas morning when she sees that Santa brought her just what she told him she wanted.