Got my registration email today. The first term you don't get to pick your schedule at all, they send you your email about it and you take it and be happy. After a few false starts I managed to get it all done online so now it's official: I am a nursing student. Or will be come January 7th.
Up next: I need shoes. They have officially veto'ed Crocs (even the Bistro model which I currently wear in brown) so I have to try to find shoes that fit similarly but have a traditional closed heel -- no strap.
Also, books. The booklist for first term is about 850 bucks plus another 90 or so for a tote of practice materials. Yikes.
And, I ordered my pda! My snappy lil' Palm TX should be here... eventually. The (very reputable) company I ordered it from said it was "IN STOCK" on the website, and on the thingy I printed out when I ordered it, but then afterward it sent me an email saying the item was an "advanced sale" item which means they first must get it from someplace else blah blah blah a bunch of crap I don't remember so the bottom line is it'll be shipped from them in 5 to 7 days from the date of order. So I guess I won't see it for a couple weeks. The price was dirt cheap, it came with a free infrared folding keyboard, and shipping was free, so I can't complain. And then once it comes I can get three of my reference books on pda software, thus eliminating the need to carry around -- shudder -- actual printed matter.
Actually I am a slavish fan of printed matter, but the opportunity to not have to carry around a bunch of stuff as a harried student appeals to me greatly. Once I get proficient with my Palm, I'll be able to just whip that baby out right on the spot and look all kinds of stuff up. And look super geeky and like a total student, but it's all good. I'll still not have to haul a bunch of heavy tomes. :)
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
Committed
So a few weeks ago a tiny client pushed me around at work, not harming me but freaking me out a wee bit, and tomorrow morning I have been subpoena'ed to a commitment hearing for her. She evidently has not settled down while hospitalized and is still aggressive, and now they are looking to commit her to the state hospital.
I don't like participating in these things. I don't like being part of the process that sends a person to the hospital against their will for what could be months. Then again, this is a person who assaulted me (albeit rather mildly), scratched, pushed and chased another staff member out of the facility altogether, and was also being taken advantage of, financially and probably in other ways, by a slimeball she considered to be her "boyfriend." So perhaps the hospital isn't the worst place for her.
Still, it's not something I'm happy or proud to be doing. This is not my first commitment hearing, but I hope it's my last.
I don't like participating in these things. I don't like being part of the process that sends a person to the hospital against their will for what could be months. Then again, this is a person who assaulted me (albeit rather mildly), scratched, pushed and chased another staff member out of the facility altogether, and was also being taken advantage of, financially and probably in other ways, by a slimeball she considered to be her "boyfriend." So perhaps the hospital isn't the worst place for her.
Still, it's not something I'm happy or proud to be doing. This is not my first commitment hearing, but I hope it's my last.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Uncle Craig
Delia spent the weekend at my brother's last week, and recently my sister-in-law remembered to tell me a little story about a trip to Costco that they made while she was there.
It seems that my brother separated from them and was elsewhere in the store and Lisa (his wife, my SIL) asked Delia, "I wonder where your Uncle Craig went?" and Delia said in response, "Where's Uncle Craig and his imaginary buttcheeks?"
I am still laughing. My brother is such a sport.
Albeit one with no ass to speak of.
It seems that my brother separated from them and was elsewhere in the store and Lisa (his wife, my SIL) asked Delia, "I wonder where your Uncle Craig went?" and Delia said in response, "Where's Uncle Craig and his imaginary buttcheeks?"
I am still laughing. My brother is such a sport.
Albeit one with no ass to speak of.
Katastrof!
So last Wednesday in the early evening the small person in our household took herself to the restroom. This was a positive thing as often times she puts off taking any action until it is just a bit too late, and so it’s a good thing my mother enjoys buying many pairs of tiny little underpants for her. And that we are in possession of reliable laundering facilities.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Ah, the holidays.
So we're having Thanksgiving here. Should be around 12 adults and 6 children (ages 7.5, 7.5, 5, 3.5, nearly 3, and 2.5).
The house is mostly clean, just a bit of dusting and last minute tidying to do. Sometime in the next 24 hours the following will take place (in semi-chronological order):
Baking of two pumpkin and two apple crumb pies, from scratch including crust, by yours truly (okay, the pumpkin is in a can, but other than that)
Brining, stuffing and roasting of Da Bird
GRAVY! Delicious, delicious gravy.
Peeling, cutting, boiling, mashing of Da Spuds
Preparation of Ye Olde Holy Green Bean Casserole (yes the mushroom soup and french fried onion kind and I LIKE IT!!)
Saucing of the cranberries
The Ceremonial Spurning of the Relish Tray*
Filling of Relish Tray with M&M's and Kisses
Placing Relish Tray out of reach of six children under the age of 8
Setting tables
Eating
Groaning/discreetly unbuttoning pants/surreptitious napping
Enduring of houseful of in-laws
Endgame cleaning of kitchen
Collapsing from exhaustion
*The Ceremonial Spurning of the Relish Tray
(This is from a blog entry of two years ago, about my mother-in-law. I have excerpted it here because the original post is very long and nobody should have to wade through it.)
"The final straw for me was when she spurned my relish tray. That's right: she spurned my relish tray. She had insisted on bringing the pickles and dilly beans and olives, and you know it's much easier to dodge a charging rhino than to stand your ground, so we concurred. But she also brought the World's Ugliest Relish Tray to put it all in, a sort of dull putty colored swoopy thing. We showed her the really very pretty, if slightly smaller, ceramic one given to me by a friend but she scoffed -- and this was the first time I can recall consciously identifying a scoff on the fly, so you can see why I'm so eager to blog it -- and said it wouldn't hold anything."
The offspring stirs, so it looks like my day has begun. Good luck and Happy Thanksgiving, Internets!
The house is mostly clean, just a bit of dusting and last minute tidying to do. Sometime in the next 24 hours the following will take place (in semi-chronological order):
Baking of two pumpkin and two apple crumb pies, from scratch including crust, by yours truly (okay, the pumpkin is in a can, but other than that)
Brining, stuffing and roasting of Da Bird
GRAVY! Delicious, delicious gravy.
Peeling, cutting, boiling, mashing of Da Spuds
Preparation of Ye Olde Holy Green Bean Casserole (yes the mushroom soup and french fried onion kind and I LIKE IT!!)
Saucing of the cranberries
The Ceremonial Spurning of the Relish Tray*
Filling of Relish Tray with M&M's and Kisses
Placing Relish Tray out of reach of six children under the age of 8
Setting tables
Eating
Groaning/discreetly unbuttoning pants/surreptitious napping
Enduring of houseful of in-laws
Endgame cleaning of kitchen
Collapsing from exhaustion
*The Ceremonial Spurning of the Relish Tray
(This is from a blog entry of two years ago, about my mother-in-law. I have excerpted it here because the original post is very long and nobody should have to wade through it.)
"The final straw for me was when she spurned my relish tray. That's right: she spurned my relish tray. She had insisted on bringing the pickles and dilly beans and olives, and you know it's much easier to dodge a charging rhino than to stand your ground, so we concurred. But she also brought the World's Ugliest Relish Tray to put it all in, a sort of dull putty colored swoopy thing. We showed her the really very pretty, if slightly smaller, ceramic one given to me by a friend but she scoffed -- and this was the first time I can recall consciously identifying a scoff on the fly, so you can see why I'm so eager to blog it -- and said it wouldn't hold anything."
The offspring stirs, so it looks like my day has begun. Good luck and Happy Thanksgiving, Internets!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Am I naive?
I saw a thing about agencies using GPS units in their vehicles to track where and when employees were driving the vehicles, using it to plot better routes among other things, resulting in all kinds of benefits to the agencies such as decreased fuel consumption etc. And, a few people have gotten in trouble for misusing vehicles, going shopping or to the gym when they were supposed to be working, going home early, etc,, even some cases being terminated from their jobs. Naturally, more than a few people have gotten up in arms about "Big Brother" type complaints, including unions.
Now, I believe that unions certainly have their time and place. And this is not union bashing. My response to anyone, union or no, that has an issue with this: But seriously. If I own an agency and I want to use GPS to ensure that my vehicles are being used properly, that my staff are not using them to do non-job-related things on my dime, then I'm the bad guy here?
Personally, it is my belief that as long as you are on the clock and driving a vehicle supplied by your employer for work related duties, then (unless you're just stopping at the minimart for a soda or in some other non-impactful way taking care of an errand that lies along your route), your employer has every right to take you to task for misusing the vehicle. That's not Big Brother. Big Brother is when I care what you do when you're OFF the clock and driving your OWN damn vehicle.
We had a staff member at one of our houses who had a small business on the side, and she regularly used the office computer to print up her flyers. We went through ink like mad and she jammed up the printer and locked up the print manager many times before I finally had to tell her that there was a five-item limit and that the copy center was down the street.
And, at the local public utility, it is common knowledge that the entire (job type concealed to protect me from lawsuits) department gets in their service trucks, goes to a restaurant for breakfast on company time, takes lengthy lunches, and clocks out at quittin' time right on the dot. And these guys make (insanely high wages) per hour, for working maybe half the day. Your utility dollars at work, folks...
Am I just naive for having this viewpoint?
Now, I believe that unions certainly have their time and place. And this is not union bashing. My response to anyone, union or no, that has an issue with this: But seriously. If I own an agency and I want to use GPS to ensure that my vehicles are being used properly, that my staff are not using them to do non-job-related things on my dime, then I'm the bad guy here?
Personally, it is my belief that as long as you are on the clock and driving a vehicle supplied by your employer for work related duties, then (unless you're just stopping at the minimart for a soda or in some other non-impactful way taking care of an errand that lies along your route), your employer has every right to take you to task for misusing the vehicle. That's not Big Brother. Big Brother is when I care what you do when you're OFF the clock and driving your OWN damn vehicle.
We had a staff member at one of our houses who had a small business on the side, and she regularly used the office computer to print up her flyers. We went through ink like mad and she jammed up the printer and locked up the print manager many times before I finally had to tell her that there was a five-item limit and that the copy center was down the street.
And, at the local public utility, it is common knowledge that the entire (job type concealed to protect me from lawsuits) department gets in their service trucks, goes to a restaurant for breakfast on company time, takes lengthy lunches, and clocks out at quittin' time right on the dot. And these guys make (insanely high wages) per hour, for working maybe half the day. Your utility dollars at work, folks...
Am I just naive for having this viewpoint?
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Bedtime for Chickens
Yesterday we performed the annual Wintering-In of the Chickens. This year, instead of just covering the chicken hut with a tarp because it was leaky and damp inside, we moved it to under the porch roof. The chickens had been avoiding the hut since the summer when various wild critters had taken to nocturnal visits, so yesterday I not only stowed various summer accessories, and cleaned the windows, and hosed off the porch, but cleaned out the interior of the hut, installed a light, filled the feeder, and piled a thick layer of pine shavings inside.
And then stuffed the birds inside and shut the thing up tight, because we were afraid that they would still eschew the hut. The perfectly nice, snug little hut that we provide for them and for which they are obviously not the least bit grateful.
Oh, but first I had to stand on a step stool and use a broom to swat one of the chickens down out of the trusses that support the roof, because she had found a way to get up there.
So, this morning I went out and opened up the little chicken door so they could strut down the little chicken ramp, and was underwhelmed by the response. They sat inside and beady-eyeballed me and utterly refused to come out. "We're warm," they implied with their disapproving clucks and grumbles, "and the wind is a-blowing outside, and there is food here. Also, soft clean shavings which we must befoul very quickly. Begone, freakish giant, and leave us to our important chicken duties." Which I did.
Later I took some leftover grilled cheese sandwich out to fling in the grass for them. Normally when I step outside and shrill "CHICKCHICKCHICK!" at them, they literally come running as fast as their scaly little legs can carry them from wherever they have been loafing, but today? Nothing. Not so much as a peep. I looked into the hut. There they sat, suspicious and still disapproving. It was not until I waved the sandwich plate around inside the hut that Beatrice grudgingly came out, followed by Elizabeth who was making the BOCKBOCKBOCKBOCK!!! sound that she usually only makes when the cat is staring at her through the window, thereby substantially harshing her trip. Naturally once they found the sandwich in the grass they got over themselves.
I was gone when it was time to put them to bed but I am told that they took themselves inside to bask in the glory of their Holy Bulb of Warmish Goodness, so it was a simple matter to shut their little door.
Fixing up their house in the fall makes me feel all good inside.
And then stuffed the birds inside and shut the thing up tight, because we were afraid that they would still eschew the hut. The perfectly nice, snug little hut that we provide for them and for which they are obviously not the least bit grateful.
Oh, but first I had to stand on a step stool and use a broom to swat one of the chickens down out of the trusses that support the roof, because she had found a way to get up there.
So, this morning I went out and opened up the little chicken door so they could strut down the little chicken ramp, and was underwhelmed by the response. They sat inside and beady-eyeballed me and utterly refused to come out. "We're warm," they implied with their disapproving clucks and grumbles, "and the wind is a-blowing outside, and there is food here. Also, soft clean shavings which we must befoul very quickly. Begone, freakish giant, and leave us to our important chicken duties." Which I did.
Later I took some leftover grilled cheese sandwich out to fling in the grass for them. Normally when I step outside and shrill "CHICKCHICKCHICK!" at them, they literally come running as fast as their scaly little legs can carry them from wherever they have been loafing, but today? Nothing. Not so much as a peep. I looked into the hut. There they sat, suspicious and still disapproving. It was not until I waved the sandwich plate around inside the hut that Beatrice grudgingly came out, followed by Elizabeth who was making the BOCKBOCKBOCKBOCK!!! sound that she usually only makes when the cat is staring at her through the window, thereby substantially harshing her trip. Naturally once they found the sandwich in the grass they got over themselves.
I was gone when it was time to put them to bed but I am told that they took themselves inside to bask in the glory of their Holy Bulb of Warmish Goodness, so it was a simple matter to shut their little door.
Fixing up their house in the fall makes me feel all good inside.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Sunday, November 11, 2007
House
I totally swear this post will be shorter than the previous one which went on forever.
So my Better Half's brother swooped into town a little while back and performed various Home Repair services for us. He did this last spring and thus we have a shed. This time he crafted a garage organizer/canoe stand, mostly from scrap that he thriftily obtained from the builder's supply place we frequent (not a BigBoxO'HomeImprovement but a smaller place with better prices and no patio furniture etc). That being done, he then threw together an awesome arbor for our back patio.
I'd go into a long, boring explanation of how the sun pounds down on that side of the patio and makes it inhospitable in summer, but you don't care. Really, you don't. All you care about is the arbor, and well you might, because it is indeed awesome. Considering the materials cost less than a hundred bucks, and 30 of that was paint.
So without further ado, and kindly disregard the mess that is our pre-winter-cleanup patio, I give you The New Arbor:
It is our intent to plant viny things like perhaps grapes or wisteria on either side and let it grow up the sides and meet in the middle, but of course we can't plant til spring.
That lumpy brownish thing to the right of the center of the photo, up against the house, is a fantastic clematis that grows from a few sticks in the ground in winter to become the rampaging behemoth you see there. It blooms giant dark purple flowers all summer. It came with the house so I can't take any credit.
What else did J's brother do for us, you might ask? He fixed the front and back doors which both had deadbolt issues, repaired the sagging gate on one side of our fence, installed a new light fixture in the dining room, and shored up a light fixture in the baby's room that we installed but one screw was stripped or something so it kind of drooped.
Did I mention how much I like it when he visits?
We do pay him for his time but it's very casual and we all like it for the fun we have together too.
As if all this was not enough, he took J fishing and here is what she caught: an 11 pound silver (or Coho) salmon!
Internets, we ate it for dinner and have three packages in the freezer! And two of them are big enough to make for company! It was the yummiest salmon ever.
So my Better Half's brother swooped into town a little while back and performed various Home Repair services for us. He did this last spring and thus we have a shed. This time he crafted a garage organizer/canoe stand, mostly from scrap that he thriftily obtained from the builder's supply place we frequent (not a BigBoxO'HomeImprovement but a smaller place with better prices and no patio furniture etc). That being done, he then threw together an awesome arbor for our back patio.
I'd go into a long, boring explanation of how the sun pounds down on that side of the patio and makes it inhospitable in summer, but you don't care. Really, you don't. All you care about is the arbor, and well you might, because it is indeed awesome. Considering the materials cost less than a hundred bucks, and 30 of that was paint.
So without further ado, and kindly disregard the mess that is our pre-winter-cleanup patio, I give you The New Arbor:
It is our intent to plant viny things like perhaps grapes or wisteria on either side and let it grow up the sides and meet in the middle, but of course we can't plant til spring.
That lumpy brownish thing to the right of the center of the photo, up against the house, is a fantastic clematis that grows from a few sticks in the ground in winter to become the rampaging behemoth you see there. It blooms giant dark purple flowers all summer. It came with the house so I can't take any credit.
What else did J's brother do for us, you might ask? He fixed the front and back doors which both had deadbolt issues, repaired the sagging gate on one side of our fence, installed a new light fixture in the dining room, and shored up a light fixture in the baby's room that we installed but one screw was stripped or something so it kind of drooped.
Did I mention how much I like it when he visits?
We do pay him for his time but it's very casual and we all like it for the fun we have together too.
As if all this was not enough, he took J fishing and here is what she caught: an 11 pound silver (or Coho) salmon!
Internets, we ate it for dinner and have three packages in the freezer! And two of them are big enough to make for company! It was the yummiest salmon ever.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
Assaulting Nuts
Okay, so as some of you may know I work in mental health. I used to run a group home for "persons with severe & persistent mental illness who also had medical issues that made them difficult to place in traditional community care settings," i.e. schizophrenics with diabetes and that sort of thing. I found myself in that lofty position after years of working my way up through the ranks from the lowest of the low -- part time on-call direct care working night shifts and the like.
By the way, the pay is for shit, even at Administrator level, and the stress can be outrageous. Mental health funding waxes and wanes according to the political climate, so from year to year you're never sure what to expect. Hence nursing school. At least now I will make a living wage.
So anyway, I started at TinyLittleMentalHealthAgency in 1991. Other than taking a couple years off for the purposes of not losing my own mind, and then having a baby (thereby losing it anyway), I have been there ever since. However, TLMHA has ingested other mental health agencies in Metropolis, growing ever larger and more unwieldy. Think "Jabba the Hutt." Now it is BigBloatedCorporateMentalHealthAgency. But that is fodder for another post.
I've gone back to work weekends at one facility, just for some extra dough and something to do. And I work a bit of on-call, so I ended up at yet a different facility for Friday swing shifts in November. Last night I show up for my shift and find that one of the clients, who had been absent last week, is there. I have not seen her in about, oh, 8, 9 years. She used to live at the first facility I worked for, back in the day. She recognizes me and calls me by name.
So now I'm making dinner (Swedish meatballs, which evolved into Swedish meatloaf due to some logistical issues, and turned out damn fine if I do say so) and she keeps coming over and nudging my arm with her knuckle, saying, "Let me help. I'll make the dinner." I politely rebuff her offers. She does this a couple of times. I ask her not to touch me please. Then she asks me to help her. I am sympathetic and eventually suggest she might need a prn (as needed) medication if she is having a difficult time with her thoughts. She goes and gets one from the other staff.
Five minutes later, she is back in the kitchen and this time she nudges me as before, but pretty firmly. I spin around and ask her to stop touching me. She says nothing but drives her knuckles into my ribs and propels me across the kitchen. I holler for the other staff, who comes and asks the client to leave the kitchen. Perhaps the client should go lie down on her bed. The other staff accompanies her to her room upstairs, reminding her that she is safe here and that if she needs to go to the hospital, we can help with that.
Moments later the other staff comes down the stairs yelling for me to call 911. The client chases her down the stairs and out of the house. I call, the police are on their way, I step outside to find the client returning to the house. The other staff has gone in the back door. The client goes back into the house and locks me out. The other staff unlocks the door and goes back to the staff office with the phone in her hand. She calls the Mental Health Team that comes to assess and assist with escalating clients. I keep an eye out for the police, stepping in every few seconds to see what's going on with the client. Another client informs me that they are "struggling." The client is now at the office door, reaching over the half-door to unlock it, shoving the door inward as the staff tries to keep her out. I go to assist and the client moves away from the door. I tell the other staff to feel free to lock herself in the office if she needs to. She calls the Administrator while I go again to see if the police are coming. At last they arrive.
Pretty soon we have two officers, two Team workers, the Administrator and us two staff all milling around. The client is asked to sit in a chair which she does occasionally. She gets up and tries to head out of the room several times, very purposefully (perhaps to finish the ass-kicking), only to be gently restrained by the officers. Information is exchanged, the client is interviewed, we are interviewed. Finally they take her to the hospital.
Dinner is late, but the other clients are understanding and the meatloaf is complimented all around.
As assaults go, this was small potatoes. The other staff got the worst of it (the client scratched her arm and shoved her more forcefully than me, not to mention the chasing), and it was over with quickly. But having someone become so unpredictable is stressful, the adrenaline rush is quite interesting, and we both found ourselves crashing a bit later on. I yawned uncontrollably for the last hour and a half that I was there.
This was the first time I had ever had a client lay hands on me in anger (or delusion) in all those years of working in mental health.
Oh, and the thing that really sucks? If you are assaultive and must be taken away in a cop car, you must be handcuffed. Even if you are mentally ill and can't help it, and go willingly.
By the way, the pay is for shit, even at Administrator level, and the stress can be outrageous. Mental health funding waxes and wanes according to the political climate, so from year to year you're never sure what to expect. Hence nursing school. At least now I will make a living wage.
So anyway, I started at TinyLittleMentalHealthAgency in 1991. Other than taking a couple years off for the purposes of not losing my own mind, and then having a baby (thereby losing it anyway), I have been there ever since. However, TLMHA has ingested other mental health agencies in Metropolis, growing ever larger and more unwieldy. Think "Jabba the Hutt." Now it is BigBloatedCorporateMentalHealthAgency. But that is fodder for another post.
I've gone back to work weekends at one facility, just for some extra dough and something to do. And I work a bit of on-call, so I ended up at yet a different facility for Friday swing shifts in November. Last night I show up for my shift and find that one of the clients, who had been absent last week, is there. I have not seen her in about, oh, 8, 9 years. She used to live at the first facility I worked for, back in the day. She recognizes me and calls me by name.
So now I'm making dinner (Swedish meatballs, which evolved into Swedish meatloaf due to some logistical issues, and turned out damn fine if I do say so) and she keeps coming over and nudging my arm with her knuckle, saying, "Let me help. I'll make the dinner." I politely rebuff her offers. She does this a couple of times. I ask her not to touch me please. Then she asks me to help her. I am sympathetic and eventually suggest she might need a prn (as needed) medication if she is having a difficult time with her thoughts. She goes and gets one from the other staff.
Five minutes later, she is back in the kitchen and this time she nudges me as before, but pretty firmly. I spin around and ask her to stop touching me. She says nothing but drives her knuckles into my ribs and propels me across the kitchen. I holler for the other staff, who comes and asks the client to leave the kitchen. Perhaps the client should go lie down on her bed. The other staff accompanies her to her room upstairs, reminding her that she is safe here and that if she needs to go to the hospital, we can help with that.
Moments later the other staff comes down the stairs yelling for me to call 911. The client chases her down the stairs and out of the house. I call, the police are on their way, I step outside to find the client returning to the house. The other staff has gone in the back door. The client goes back into the house and locks me out. The other staff unlocks the door and goes back to the staff office with the phone in her hand. She calls the Mental Health Team that comes to assess and assist with escalating clients. I keep an eye out for the police, stepping in every few seconds to see what's going on with the client. Another client informs me that they are "struggling." The client is now at the office door, reaching over the half-door to unlock it, shoving the door inward as the staff tries to keep her out. I go to assist and the client moves away from the door. I tell the other staff to feel free to lock herself in the office if she needs to. She calls the Administrator while I go again to see if the police are coming. At last they arrive.
Pretty soon we have two officers, two Team workers, the Administrator and us two staff all milling around. The client is asked to sit in a chair which she does occasionally. She gets up and tries to head out of the room several times, very purposefully (perhaps to finish the ass-kicking), only to be gently restrained by the officers. Information is exchanged, the client is interviewed, we are interviewed. Finally they take her to the hospital.
Dinner is late, but the other clients are understanding and the meatloaf is complimented all around.
As assaults go, this was small potatoes. The other staff got the worst of it (the client scratched her arm and shoved her more forcefully than me, not to mention the chasing), and it was over with quickly. But having someone become so unpredictable is stressful, the adrenaline rush is quite interesting, and we both found ourselves crashing a bit later on. I yawned uncontrollably for the last hour and a half that I was there.
This was the first time I had ever had a client lay hands on me in anger (or delusion) in all those years of working in mental health.
Oh, and the thing that really sucks? If you are assaultive and must be taken away in a cop car, you must be handcuffed. Even if you are mentally ill and can't help it, and go willingly.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Pet Noise
Recently a fellow bloggist posted a comment on my last post which read as follows: "How can you leave housepets off your list? I swear my cat saves all her grooming time for late at night. Not to mention the occasional snoring. The morning routine is no less pleasant. If you don't spring out of bed to freshen the kibble or let the beast out, there will be yowling at 5 minute intervals."
Gack, don't get me started. Our cranky Elder Cat and our fun-loving (obnoxious) Fluffy Butt Cat are constantly at it, and the early morning hours are the preferred time for skirmishing. Cat hygiene is not nearly the problem as dog hygiene, which thankfully for us is mainly limited to knuckle-chewing by one of the dogs. (I mean as far as noise goes; they do engage in hygiene, just not generally noisy hygiene.) Even noisier: dog water bowl action, especially by the larger dog who has a bit of an impairment. SLUPSLUPSLUPSLUPSLUP!
Oh, and if anyone rings the door bell, approaches the house, walks past the house, looks at the house, breathes near the house, or thinks about the house in any way, the dogs go completely apeshit berserk and bark their fool heads off until we confine them to the bedroom. They still bark there but it's muffled by the door and therefore less annoying. (But I must admit that I do feel slightly safer knowing that if any criminal types ever try to gain access to our house while we are in it, our dogs will keep them at bay for at least an extra three to four seconds, during which time we will call 911 but they won't be able to hear us for all the barking.)
Let us not forget the chickens, both hens, who occasionally go off (bock bock bock bock bock bock bock bock BA-KAWK!!!!) for no apparent reason in the early hours of the morning. Throwing them food doesn't stop them but letting the dogs out does. Must be why we own dogs. I can't think of any other reason.
Gack, don't get me started. Our cranky Elder Cat and our fun-loving (obnoxious) Fluffy Butt Cat are constantly at it, and the early morning hours are the preferred time for skirmishing. Cat hygiene is not nearly the problem as dog hygiene, which thankfully for us is mainly limited to knuckle-chewing by one of the dogs. (I mean as far as noise goes; they do engage in hygiene, just not generally noisy hygiene.) Even noisier: dog water bowl action, especially by the larger dog who has a bit of an impairment. SLUPSLUPSLUPSLUPSLUP!
Oh, and if anyone rings the door bell, approaches the house, walks past the house, looks at the house, breathes near the house, or thinks about the house in any way, the dogs go completely apeshit berserk and bark their fool heads off until we confine them to the bedroom. They still bark there but it's muffled by the door and therefore less annoying. (But I must admit that I do feel slightly safer knowing that if any criminal types ever try to gain access to our house while we are in it, our dogs will keep them at bay for at least an extra three to four seconds, during which time we will call 911 but they won't be able to hear us for all the barking.)
Let us not forget the chickens, both hens, who occasionally go off (bock bock bock bock bock bock bock bock BA-KAWK!!!!) for no apparent reason in the early hours of the morning. Throwing them food doesn't stop them but letting the dogs out does. Must be why we own dogs. I can't think of any other reason.
Monday, November 05, 2007
Sounds Not Good
A fellow bloggist posted about having sensitivity to certain sounds. This was in response to a post by another bloggist that he reads.
I don't have superpower hearing, or olfactory powers, but I am a very light sleeper. What wakes me up in the morning is not the CD playing in my little stereo -- it's the little whir-whir-whir sound of the CD when it starts to spin, just BEFORE the music starts.
Also, I'm starting to regret having a master bath because when my better half gets up to use the restroom in the early morning, she cannot remember to close the door until just AFTER flushing and the sound of it makes me just about hit the ceiling.
Close the door BEFORE you flush, dear. Like I do. Out of consideration for you and the baby, I pause and wait for the sound to die out before I slip out and pull the door closed behind me so that even the tank-filling sound is muffled.
Why can't we all be more like me?!
Also, I do not have a very sensitive sense of smell. I am thinking that this is the result of multiple sinus infections, one or two a year at least for most of my life. I am also thinking that this will only help to make me an excellent nurse.
I don't have superpower hearing, or olfactory powers, but I am a very light sleeper. What wakes me up in the morning is not the CD playing in my little stereo -- it's the little whir-whir-whir sound of the CD when it starts to spin, just BEFORE the music starts.
Also, I'm starting to regret having a master bath because when my better half gets up to use the restroom in the early morning, she cannot remember to close the door until just AFTER flushing and the sound of it makes me just about hit the ceiling.
Close the door BEFORE you flush, dear. Like I do. Out of consideration for you and the baby, I pause and wait for the sound to die out before I slip out and pull the door closed behind me so that even the tank-filling sound is muffled.
Why can't we all be more like me?!
Also, I do not have a very sensitive sense of smell. I am thinking that this is the result of multiple sinus infections, one or two a year at least for most of my life. I am also thinking that this will only help to make me an excellent nurse.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Late.
Spent an hour in my car today.
Had an appointment at 2pm and then work at 4pm. Plenty of time to get from one to the other.
But hark! What’s this? Freeway all buggered up? Accident involving a panel truck, a minivan, and two sedans? The hell you say! And no alternate route since I’m already on the approach to the bridge.
Okay, I got past it. Still plenty of time to get to work.
….Aw, crap. Is that the gas light? How long has that been on? Dammit!
Okay good, here’s a gas station. Oh wait, this whole side is closed. It’s rush hour and there’s one pump jockey working. And two others sitting around. Why didn’t I get gas in Washington where you can pump your own?
…. Um… Hey, pimply faced recreational substance using kid, would you mind putting some gas in my car? HEY! NOT HERS! I was here first!
OMG! Everybody that got here even after me is having gas pumped into their tank! He just keeps walking past my car! WTF!!!
/screechingtiresasItearthroughparkinglotinabighuff
Fine! I’ll go to the place across the street! Chuh! Whatev! Oh and don’t you EVEN give me that “omg wtf is wrong with her” look, you little greaseball!
Well, here I am… um… OMG lady, how can you be driving a car and not know how to pop the little gas door open? /tapfingersondashboardimpatiently
FINALLY! And the kid was polite. Aw!
Great. Now I’m late. At least there is a drugstore right on the corner, I can get a caffeinated beverage to drink on shift. Aaaaah, life giving elixir...
…Oh lordy. Tell me this parking lot is not a one-way emptying out onto a super busy street, right at the corner, and nobody will let the lady in front of me in? OMG!!!
/gnashteeth /tearhair /shakefist
/reversegear
Screw it. Rules were made to be broken. Kiss my shiny metal ass, RiteAid! What are you gonna do, take away my birthday?
Um... hi everybody, I'm your oncall... Yeah, sorry I'm a few minutes late... Where do I put my stuff? /shakehands /feelwelcome /relax
Had an appointment at 2pm and then work at 4pm. Plenty of time to get from one to the other.
But hark! What’s this? Freeway all buggered up? Accident involving a panel truck, a minivan, and two sedans? The hell you say! And no alternate route since I’m already on the approach to the bridge.
Okay, I got past it. Still plenty of time to get to work.
….Aw, crap. Is that the gas light? How long has that been on? Dammit!
Okay good, here’s a gas station. Oh wait, this whole side is closed. It’s rush hour and there’s one pump jockey working. And two others sitting around. Why didn’t I get gas in Washington where you can pump your own?
…. Um… Hey, pimply faced recreational substance using kid, would you mind putting some gas in my car? HEY! NOT HERS! I was here first!
OMG! Everybody that got here even after me is having gas pumped into their tank! He just keeps walking past my car! WTF!!!
/screechingtiresasItearthroughparkinglotinabighuff
Fine! I’ll go to the place across the street! Chuh! Whatev! Oh and don’t you EVEN give me that “omg wtf is wrong with her” look, you little greaseball!
Well, here I am… um… OMG lady, how can you be driving a car and not know how to pop the little gas door open? /tapfingersondashboardimpatiently
FINALLY! And the kid was polite. Aw!
Great. Now I’m late. At least there is a drugstore right on the corner, I can get a caffeinated beverage to drink on shift. Aaaaah, life giving elixir...
…Oh lordy. Tell me this parking lot is not a one-way emptying out onto a super busy street, right at the corner, and nobody will let the lady in front of me in? OMG!!!
/gnashteeth /tearhair /shakefist
Screw it. Rules were made to be broken. Kiss my shiny metal ass, RiteAid! What are you gonna do, take away my birthday?
Um... hi everybody, I'm your oncall... Yeah, sorry I'm a few minutes late... Where do I put my stuff? /shakehands /feelwelcome /relax
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
100 things (A Work In Progress)
I've been kind of meaning to do this for a while but I'm not sure I can think of 100 things. I shall get started and repost when it is finished.
1. One of my legs is longer than the other.
2. When I was a child I had a black cat named Ambrose.
3. We lived in Spain from the time I was 5 months old until I was nearly 4 years old.
4. We had a gardener and a housekeeper in Spain (labor was cheap at that time) and the gardener used to cuss me out in Spanish for picking the tomatoes before they were ripe.
5. Thirty five years later my own child is picking the tomatoes before they are ripe, but I don't cuss at her, in Spanish or otherwise.
6. I do not like soft cheeses such as Brie or similar.
7. I got an A in third term calculus.
8. I am allergic to many common antibiotics.
9. Everyone in my family is taller than I am, but not by much.
10. I love Sharpies. (the pens) Especially the fine point ones.
11. I never got detention in school.
12. I can't roll my tongue.
13. There is a very dark, almost black freckle on my forehead that total strangers have tried to wipe off of me. It has been there most of my life.
14. I suffer from performance anxiety when testing, such as on driver's tests or other exams where you have to demonstrate your ability.
15. However, I enjoy written tests.
16. In 1984, I got 1300 on my SAT's, not bad considering I didn't study.
17. I was quite nervous about it and by way of encouragement, my then-boyfriend made a bet with me that I would beat at least one of his scores. I beat them both.
18. I am not particularly mechanically inclined.
19. I am good at calligraphy and can draw a bit.
20. I love to drive.
21. I do the crossworld puzzle, sudoku and jumble in the paper nearly every day. In ink.
22. I studied in Russia when it was a communist country.
23. I love rain and wind and blustery weather.
24. In high school I decided I would never become a nurse.
25. I start nursing school in January.
26. I am mildly-to-moderately claustrophobic.
27. When I was a child my brother used to occasionally stuff me headfirst into a sleeping bag while we were roughhousing. (see #26....)
28. I am a cat person, more than a dog person.
29. I love to sing.
30. I can carry a tune but I don't really have a good singing voice.
31. I secretly enjoy Renaissance Festivals and would go to one in costume but can't yet admit to that kind of geekery.
32. I love peanut butter.
33. Especially with chocolate.
34. I do not love peanuts.
35. I am deathly allergic to tree nuts.
36. I roller-skated a lot as a child.
37. I won the All-City spelling bee in the 5th grade.
38. Some friends and I went to Disneyland when I was about 27, and drank in every bar at the Disneyland Hotel (there are many).
39. Then we went into Disneyland with a glass bottle of Tropicana orange juice which we had cunningly doctored with vodka, and rode a bunch of rides drunk.
40. By the way, this is against park rules, but we didn't get caught.
41. I like to buy toothpaste in foreign countries, as a souvenir to take home.
42. I also like to buy stationery goods, such as spiral notebooks.
43. My favorite season is Autumn.
44. I don't like spicy food.
45. I have one brother and no sisters.
46. I have a tendency to try to look knowledgeable about things that I'm not knowledgeable about.
47. I have discovered that this can be detrimental so I work hard to counter this now.
48. I once had to deal with a mentally ill person carrying a deceased squirrel around in a basket for a week. (I ran a group home at the time.) She had found it in the street and thought it was "sick." She covered it up so nobody knew what was in the basket until it started to smell.
49. I secretly enjoy vacuuming.
50. I am not afraid to touch worms or rodents (safe disease free ones) but spiders totally creep me out. But only if they touch me or get too close. I don't mind looking at them from a respectable distance.
51. Once I swallowed a fishbone and it scratched my throat so bad I had to get x-rays at the ER and the next day I had to go back and get examined by an ear/nose/throat doctor because it felt like the bone was still there. It wasn't, but I got a whopping rx for codeine so at least it didn't hurt anymore.
52. I have had every single extremity in a cast at one point or another. Some more than once.
53. Stress makes me clumsy.
54. As if I needed anything to make me clumsier.
55. All clumsiness aside, I am not bad at folkdance such as contra dancing or Russian folk dance.
56. Across the street from my dorm when I studied abroad was what I was told was the newest, largest and last statue of Lenin ever erected in Moscow. Here is the actual statue, in Oktyabrskaya Square:
57. Christmas is my favorite holiday.
58. I have put my left sock and shoe on first since I was 11.
59. However, I can put someone else's shoes or socks on in any order (for instance my daughter's)
60. When "Aladdin" came out, I saw it in the theater five times.
61. Most of my stories about studying in Moscow begin thusly: "One time when I was really drunk..." or alternatively, "One time when I had this terrible hangover..."
62. I don't drink very much now.
63. I used to go to the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" every chance I got when I was in my mid-teens to early twenties.
64. As a result I had a mad, passionate crush on Tim Curry for years.
65. Perhaps I still do.
66. I once dreamt that I got into a posh, old-fashioned elevator in a fancy hotel and John Cleese was inside, along with the be-uniformed elevator operator. The doors closed, and by the time they reopened, Mr. Cleese had asked me to marry him and I had said yes.
67. I once had a dream that my father had died and it was so vivid that for several minutes after waking up, I thought he was actually dead.
68. I also dreamt once that my mother had died and that my father kidnapped me afterward and held me captive to try to prevent me from digging up her bones where they were buried in some kind of park. The bones were supposed to tell me something important. I woke up just as I was unearthing the bones.
69. I only like bananas if they are still kind of green. If there is even one brown spot, the banana is too sweet and mushy for my tastes.
70. I am a pen whore and if I find a really nice pen at work, I might be inclined to, um, liberate it. But not if it's a valuable one like something fancy.
71. I rode an elephant once at the zoo when I was a child. Most memorable thing about it: the way the elephant smelled, and the swaying. Also the bar behind me was digging into my back.
72. I once saw something that I can't explain in the sky. It looked like an egg, way up high, and the only reason I think it might have been something other than a "weather balloon" is that I watched it make a 90 degree turn. And then disappear. This was on a clear, beautiful summer day, and I was not under the influence of anything.
73. My grandmother drove trucks in Guam during the war.
74. My other grandmother was a WAC and was buried with military honors when she died 3 years ago.
75. I was in the Army.
76. Did I tell you about my flat feet?
77. I wasn't in for long.
78. I got 145 on my Defense Language Aptitude Battery. The score was so high that the recruiting office kept calling the testing center back to confirm the score. They had only seen one score higher than mine. (My friend qualified with a score of around 100.)
79. I sound really impressive here but in real life I'm quite normal and uninteresting.
80. I play World of Warcraft.
81. I came out at 22. (Mel, this is why I mentioned a boyfriend! What can I say, I was young...) It wasn't pretty and in some ways still isn't and never will be, but I am fortunate to have a wonderful family. Mostly.
82. My first car was a 1966 Chevrolet Bel-Air. Four doors, an enormous metal dashboard, and a 3-dead-body trunk that opened with a screwdriver because the lock had been popped. I was 28 years old.
83. I am an enthusiastic motorcyclist although I do not currently own one.
84. I have never colored my hair.
85. I once told off a very good friend of mine via email because I was very angry at her for something and now she's not my friend anymore. I apologized and we kind of tried to be friends but it didn't work out, she was too hurt. I'll regret it forever.
86.
1. One of my legs is longer than the other.
2. When I was a child I had a black cat named Ambrose.
3. We lived in Spain from the time I was 5 months old until I was nearly 4 years old.
4. We had a gardener and a housekeeper in Spain (labor was cheap at that time) and the gardener used to cuss me out in Spanish for picking the tomatoes before they were ripe.
5. Thirty five years later my own child is picking the tomatoes before they are ripe, but I don't cuss at her, in Spanish or otherwise.
6. I do not like soft cheeses such as Brie or similar.
7. I got an A in third term calculus.
8. I am allergic to many common antibiotics.
9. Everyone in my family is taller than I am, but not by much.
10. I love Sharpies. (the pens) Especially the fine point ones.
11. I never got detention in school.
12. I can't roll my tongue.
13. There is a very dark, almost black freckle on my forehead that total strangers have tried to wipe off of me. It has been there most of my life.
14. I suffer from performance anxiety when testing, such as on driver's tests or other exams where you have to demonstrate your ability.
15. However, I enjoy written tests.
16. In 1984, I got 1300 on my SAT's, not bad considering I didn't study.
17. I was quite nervous about it and by way of encouragement, my then-boyfriend made a bet with me that I would beat at least one of his scores. I beat them both.
18. I am not particularly mechanically inclined.
19. I am good at calligraphy and can draw a bit.
20. I love to drive.
21. I do the crossworld puzzle, sudoku and jumble in the paper nearly every day. In ink.
22. I studied in Russia when it was a communist country.
23. I love rain and wind and blustery weather.
24. In high school I decided I would never become a nurse.
25. I start nursing school in January.
26. I am mildly-to-moderately claustrophobic.
27. When I was a child my brother used to occasionally stuff me headfirst into a sleeping bag while we were roughhousing. (see #26....)
28. I am a cat person, more than a dog person.
29. I love to sing.
30. I can carry a tune but I don't really have a good singing voice.
31. I secretly enjoy Renaissance Festivals and would go to one in costume but can't yet admit to that kind of geekery.
32. I love peanut butter.
33. Especially with chocolate.
34. I do not love peanuts.
35. I am deathly allergic to tree nuts.
36. I roller-skated a lot as a child.
37. I won the All-City spelling bee in the 5th grade.
38. Some friends and I went to Disneyland when I was about 27, and drank in every bar at the Disneyland Hotel (there are many).
39. Then we went into Disneyland with a glass bottle of Tropicana orange juice which we had cunningly doctored with vodka, and rode a bunch of rides drunk.
40. By the way, this is against park rules, but we didn't get caught.
41. I like to buy toothpaste in foreign countries, as a souvenir to take home.
42. I also like to buy stationery goods, such as spiral notebooks.
43. My favorite season is Autumn.
44. I don't like spicy food.
45. I have one brother and no sisters.
46. I have a tendency to try to look knowledgeable about things that I'm not knowledgeable about.
47. I have discovered that this can be detrimental so I work hard to counter this now.
48. I once had to deal with a mentally ill person carrying a deceased squirrel around in a basket for a week. (I ran a group home at the time.) She had found it in the street and thought it was "sick." She covered it up so nobody knew what was in the basket until it started to smell.
49. I secretly enjoy vacuuming.
50. I am not afraid to touch worms or rodents (safe disease free ones) but spiders totally creep me out. But only if they touch me or get too close. I don't mind looking at them from a respectable distance.
51. Once I swallowed a fishbone and it scratched my throat so bad I had to get x-rays at the ER and the next day I had to go back and get examined by an ear/nose/throat doctor because it felt like the bone was still there. It wasn't, but I got a whopping rx for codeine so at least it didn't hurt anymore.
52. I have had every single extremity in a cast at one point or another. Some more than once.
53. Stress makes me clumsy.
54. As if I needed anything to make me clumsier.
55. All clumsiness aside, I am not bad at folkdance such as contra dancing or Russian folk dance.
56. Across the street from my dorm when I studied abroad was what I was told was the newest, largest and last statue of Lenin ever erected in Moscow. Here is the actual statue, in Oktyabrskaya Square:
57. Christmas is my favorite holiday.
58. I have put my left sock and shoe on first since I was 11.
59. However, I can put someone else's shoes or socks on in any order (for instance my daughter's)
60. When "Aladdin" came out, I saw it in the theater five times.
61. Most of my stories about studying in Moscow begin thusly: "One time when I was really drunk..." or alternatively, "One time when I had this terrible hangover..."
62. I don't drink very much now.
63. I used to go to the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" every chance I got when I was in my mid-teens to early twenties.
64. As a result I had a mad, passionate crush on Tim Curry for years.
65. Perhaps I still do.
66. I once dreamt that I got into a posh, old-fashioned elevator in a fancy hotel and John Cleese was inside, along with the be-uniformed elevator operator. The doors closed, and by the time they reopened, Mr. Cleese had asked me to marry him and I had said yes.
67. I once had a dream that my father had died and it was so vivid that for several minutes after waking up, I thought he was actually dead.
68. I also dreamt once that my mother had died and that my father kidnapped me afterward and held me captive to try to prevent me from digging up her bones where they were buried in some kind of park. The bones were supposed to tell me something important. I woke up just as I was unearthing the bones.
69. I only like bananas if they are still kind of green. If there is even one brown spot, the banana is too sweet and mushy for my tastes.
70. I am a pen whore and if I find a really nice pen at work, I might be inclined to, um, liberate it. But not if it's a valuable one like something fancy.
71. I rode an elephant once at the zoo when I was a child. Most memorable thing about it: the way the elephant smelled, and the swaying. Also the bar behind me was digging into my back.
72. I once saw something that I can't explain in the sky. It looked like an egg, way up high, and the only reason I think it might have been something other than a "weather balloon" is that I watched it make a 90 degree turn. And then disappear. This was on a clear, beautiful summer day, and I was not under the influence of anything.
73. My grandmother drove trucks in Guam during the war.
74. My other grandmother was a WAC and was buried with military honors when she died 3 years ago.
75. I was in the Army.
76. Did I tell you about my flat feet?
77. I wasn't in for long.
78. I got 145 on my Defense Language Aptitude Battery. The score was so high that the recruiting office kept calling the testing center back to confirm the score. They had only seen one score higher than mine. (My friend qualified with a score of around 100.)
79. I sound really impressive here but in real life I'm quite normal and uninteresting.
80. I play World of Warcraft.
81. I came out at 22. (Mel, this is why I mentioned a boyfriend! What can I say, I was young...) It wasn't pretty and in some ways still isn't and never will be, but I am fortunate to have a wonderful family. Mostly.
82. My first car was a 1966 Chevrolet Bel-Air. Four doors, an enormous metal dashboard, and a 3-dead-body trunk that opened with a screwdriver because the lock had been popped. I was 28 years old.
83. I am an enthusiastic motorcyclist although I do not currently own one.
84. I have never colored my hair.
85. I once told off a very good friend of mine via email because I was very angry at her for something and now she's not my friend anymore. I apologized and we kind of tried to be friends but it didn't work out, she was too hurt. I'll regret it forever.
86.
WTF
Okay, so I'm trying this out, this Multiply thing. And the first thing that happens is that when I import my blog from blogger, it scrambles the order of the posts, and now it's all mixed up.
Plus, my stupid email is hosed again (thanks, Comcast!) and I can't access it.
ENOUGH!!! Enough of the stupid hassles, life! I am up to my NECKBONES in hassles! And I have HAD! ENOUGH!!!
Okay, that being said, um, Hi Internets! Welcome, any friends of Mel's!
And, if my blog makes NO SENSE AT ALL, please be advised that it's not my fault.
Thank you.
Plus, my stupid email is hosed again (thanks, Comcast!) and I can't access it.
ENOUGH!!! Enough of the stupid hassles, life! I am up to my NECKBONES in hassles! And I have HAD! ENOUGH!!!
Okay, that being said, um, Hi Internets! Welcome, any friends of Mel's!
And, if my blog makes NO SENSE AT ALL, please be advised that it's not my fault.
Thank you.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Google-fu Meme
Borrowed from Dr. Zeus:
"From Adventures in Ethics and Science, the Google-fu meme, originated by David Ng.
I'd like to suggest a meme, where the premise is that you will attempt to find 5 statements, which if you were to type into google (preferably google.com, but we'll take the other country specific ones if need be), you'll find that you are returned with your blog as the number one hit. This takes a bit of effort since finding these statements takes a little trial and error, but I'm going to guess that this meme might yield some interesting insight on the blog in question. To make it easier, we'll let you use a search statement enclosed in quotations - this is just to increase your chances of turning up as number one, but if you happen to have a website with the awesome traffic to command the same statement without quotations, then flaunt it baby! Of course, once you find your 5 statements, pass the meme on to others."
I had a try at this today and came up with these statements:
new motherhood gone bad
bodice 101
In the process I learned that "meeples" is actually a real term for something. Evidently there is a German tile-based board game, which I will no doubt never play because it involves strategy and not sheer dumb luck, and the chunky little "people" figures are colloquially referred to as "meeples."
This is a far different definition than my daughter's. To her, meeples are nipples.
I'm not going to tag anyone but hey, get on the good foot and do the bad thing, my blogmates.
"From Adventures in Ethics and Science, the Google-fu meme, originated by David Ng.
I'd like to suggest a meme, where the premise is that you will attempt to find 5 statements, which if you were to type into google (preferably google.com, but we'll take the other country specific ones if need be), you'll find that you are returned with your blog as the number one hit. This takes a bit of effort since finding these statements takes a little trial and error, but I'm going to guess that this meme might yield some interesting insight on the blog in question. To make it easier, we'll let you use a search statement enclosed in quotations - this is just to increase your chances of turning up as number one, but if you happen to have a website with the awesome traffic to command the same statement without quotations, then flaunt it baby! Of course, once you find your 5 statements, pass the meme on to others."
I had a try at this today and came up with these statements:
new motherhood gone bad
bodice 101
In the process I learned that "meeples" is actually a real term for something. Evidently there is a German tile-based board game, which I will no doubt never play because it involves strategy and not sheer dumb luck, and the chunky little "people" figures are colloquially referred to as "meeples."
This is a far different definition than my daughter's. To her, meeples are nipples.
I'm not going to tag anyone but hey, get on the good foot and do the bad thing, my blogmates.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Boy Is Our Face Expensively Red
So the next morning after getting GiantCableConglomerateCast phone service installed, my aunt rang me up. I answered gleefully in anticipation of crystal clear, functional phone service.
Oh, the humanity.
"Hello? HELLO? Are you there? If you're there, I can't hear you. I'll call you on your cell phone."
I don't know what made me look dumbly down at the counter, take in the two cordless units lying there, and suddenly add up the variables in my head: Intermittent service. No bandwidth issue. Two phones.
My aunt called me on my cell, we chatted a bit, and then I asked her if she could take a minute to call me back on the home phone. She did. I answered and she couldn't hear me. I had asked her to call me back again on the home phone if she couldn't hear me, so a moment later she did and I answered using the other unit. Clear as a bell.
So we just spent 120 dollars to cancel one service, installed a more expensive service, and all along the problem was the damn phone. It had just coincidentally gone teats-up right after we started service with Bonage.
I am pretty sure that it was Sunrocket's last stab at screwing us over. We got that phone free when we signed up with them.
Oh, the humanity.
"Hello? HELLO? Are you there? If you're there, I can't hear you. I'll call you on your cell phone."
I don't know what made me look dumbly down at the counter, take in the two cordless units lying there, and suddenly add up the variables in my head: Intermittent service. No bandwidth issue. Two phones.
My aunt called me on my cell, we chatted a bit, and then I asked her if she could take a minute to call me back on the home phone. She did. I answered and she couldn't hear me. I had asked her to call me back again on the home phone if she couldn't hear me, so a moment later she did and I answered using the other unit. Clear as a bell.
So we just spent 120 dollars to cancel one service, installed a more expensive service, and all along the problem was the damn phone. It had just coincidentally gone teats-up right after we started service with Bonage.
I am pretty sure that it was Sunrocket's last stab at screwing us over. We got that phone free when we signed up with them.
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
Bonage
We recently had a less than optimal experience with an internet phone service. Let's just call this company "Bonage" since that is certainly what it felt like overall. Bend over...
We used to use SunRocket, which, once we got it operating, worked great. Occasionally there would be delays in service, never lasting more than part of a day, which I was willing to tolerate given the extreme value pricing of about 17 dollars a month for the whole enchilada -- long distance, voicemail, caller ID, you name it. And the problems were always some server issue, and they were always ass-kissingly apologetic about it.
But suddenly SunRocket went out of business, and we were faced with having to get a new provider quick. A friend of ours had had good luck with Bonage so we went with them. Plus, they were having a special for former SunRocket customers. What could go wrong?
All went swimmingly for about two weeks, and then not so much. If you called us, we could hear you but you couldn't hear us. And this was maddeningly intermittent. Also, during a time that we were fielding many important calls. Gah! We went to their website and did all the things they suggested we do. Nothing helped. Then we moved on to contacting the "customer service" department via email. They repeatedly instructed us to do all the things on the website, that we had already done, and told us that the problem was on our side. They did not have suggestions as to what the problem might be other than maybe a bandwidth issue, which seemed unlikely given the ease with which I play World of Warcraft for (cough cough) at least a couple of hours a night. They did not answer direct questions.
They did send us a new device in case the original one had gotten overheated or was defective. We were required to send the original one back within a certain period of time or face a charge. We did so. It cost us ten bucks via the cheapest route. The new device did nothing to change the situation.
By now we are getting pretty bent. We have had to use our cellphones almost exclusively during this time and our cell plan, while perfectly adequate for our usual needs, is not unlimited. We will have hefty cell bills. And we're sick of all this hassle. Finally, we call and get the phone service offered by GiantCableConglomerateCast. This will be more expensive than effing Bonage, but at least we will have service that functions, plus digital cable with on-demand and faster cable internet than before. And, if anything goes wrong? Yeah, somebody comes to our house and fixes it.
We were told that we could not discontinue service with Bonage until the day of the new hookup -- today. My better half called to discontinue and it took 25 minutes. On the cell phone of course. They offered to transfer her to whatever they call the suck-up department no less than five times. Each time she had to say No. And! Here's the parting shot. Because we didn't stay with their crappy non-existent service for six months, they are charging us for the device. And for shipping. And a disconnection fee.
So all told, this little experiment cost us close to 120 dollars in fees (from today), ten dollars postage (old device return), and oh, it's hard to say how much in cell phone bills -- probably a couple hundred over our usual amount.
I kind of wish that Bonage sent out those "no postage necessary" postcards or envelopes like credit card companies do. I have heard that an unscrupulous person might enjoy putting them in the mail empty because once they enter the postal system, the company has to pay the postage on them no matter what might (or might not) be inside. That's just what I've heard. I'm just sayin'.
We used to use SunRocket, which, once we got it operating, worked great. Occasionally there would be delays in service, never lasting more than part of a day, which I was willing to tolerate given the extreme value pricing of about 17 dollars a month for the whole enchilada -- long distance, voicemail, caller ID, you name it. And the problems were always some server issue, and they were always ass-kissingly apologetic about it.
But suddenly SunRocket went out of business, and we were faced with having to get a new provider quick. A friend of ours had had good luck with Bonage so we went with them. Plus, they were having a special for former SunRocket customers. What could go wrong?
All went swimmingly for about two weeks, and then not so much. If you called us, we could hear you but you couldn't hear us. And this was maddeningly intermittent. Also, during a time that we were fielding many important calls. Gah! We went to their website and did all the things they suggested we do. Nothing helped. Then we moved on to contacting the "customer service" department via email. They repeatedly instructed us to do all the things on the website, that we had already done, and told us that the problem was on our side. They did not have suggestions as to what the problem might be other than maybe a bandwidth issue, which seemed unlikely given the ease with which I play World of Warcraft for (cough cough) at least a couple of hours a night. They did not answer direct questions.
They did send us a new device in case the original one had gotten overheated or was defective. We were required to send the original one back within a certain period of time or face a charge. We did so. It cost us ten bucks via the cheapest route. The new device did nothing to change the situation.
By now we are getting pretty bent. We have had to use our cellphones almost exclusively during this time and our cell plan, while perfectly adequate for our usual needs, is not unlimited. We will have hefty cell bills. And we're sick of all this hassle. Finally, we call and get the phone service offered by GiantCableConglomerateCast. This will be more expensive than effing Bonage, but at least we will have service that functions, plus digital cable with on-demand and faster cable internet than before. And, if anything goes wrong? Yeah, somebody comes to our house and fixes it.
We were told that we could not discontinue service with Bonage until the day of the new hookup -- today. My better half called to discontinue and it took 25 minutes. On the cell phone of course. They offered to transfer her to whatever they call the suck-up department no less than five times. Each time she had to say No. And! Here's the parting shot. Because we didn't stay with their crappy non-existent service for six months, they are charging us for the device. And for shipping. And a disconnection fee.
So all told, this little experiment cost us close to 120 dollars in fees (from today), ten dollars postage (old device return), and oh, it's hard to say how much in cell phone bills -- probably a couple hundred over our usual amount.
I kind of wish that Bonage sent out those "no postage necessary" postcards or envelopes like credit card companies do. I have heard that an unscrupulous person might enjoy putting them in the mail empty because once they enter the postal system, the company has to pay the postage on them no matter what might (or might not) be inside. That's just what I've heard. I'm just sayin'.
Monday, October 08, 2007
Name Meme
You all know how I love the meme. Spotted this on one of the blogs I read.
1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car)
Ambrose Protege
2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie)
Chocolate Peanut Butter -- this sounds a little odd considering I'm a pasty white girl with red hair and freckles.
3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name)
D-Rob, or (from my WoW main character name) E-Raz
4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Blue Tabby Cat
5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Lee Oak Harbor
6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first)
Robde
7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink)
"The Orange Corona (with lime)" -- evidently I squirt citrus juice in the bad guys' eyes, then pee on them (from all the beer). That'll teach 'em!
8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)
Jean William
9. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy)
Anais Reese -- I kinda like it. :)
10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names )
Andre Louise
11. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)
Nichols Nashville -- hahahahahaha, it was the only city I could think of with an N
12. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower)
Autumn Gerber (Daisy), or maybe Christmas Aster
13. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + "ie" or "y")
Mango Tie-dye. This sounds more like it should be the hippy name (below).
14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree)
Cinnamon Life Gingko
15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”)
The Triathlon Lightning Tour
1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car)
Ambrose Protege
2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie)
Chocolate Peanut Butter -- this sounds a little odd considering I'm a pasty white girl with red hair and freckles.
3. YOUR “FLY Guy/Girl” NAME: (first initial of first name, first three letters of your last name)
D-Rob, or (from my WoW main character name) E-Raz
4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Blue Tabby Cat
5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Lee Oak Harbor
6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first)
Robde
7. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink)
"The Orange Corona (with lime)" -- evidently I squirt citrus juice in the bad guys' eyes, then pee on them (from all the beer). That'll teach 'em!
8. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers)
Jean William
9. STRIPPER NAME: ( the name of your favorite perfume/cologne/scent, favorite candy)
Anais Reese -- I kinda like it. :)
10.WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names )
Andre Louise
11. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter)
Nichols Nashville -- hahahahahaha, it was the only city I could think of with an N
12. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower)
Autumn Gerber (Daisy), or maybe Christmas Aster
13. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + "ie" or "y")
Mango Tie-dye. This sounds more like it should be the hippy name (below).
14. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree)
Cinnamon Life Gingko
15. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”)
The Triathlon Lightning Tour
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Mistake
Tonight I made a grievous medication error.
I work at a group home for “severe & persistent mental illness” clients. There are more than a dozen clients, residents, whatever you want to call them. The term changes regularly what with varying forms of political correctness; at one point we called them “consumers,” as in “consumers of mental health services” but I never liked that term. It makes them sound all take and no give.
At any rate, I used to run such a house. I found it to be super stressful and was happy to give it up. Ironically, the part I liked the best about working in these types of facilities was giving medications and dealing with doctors’ offices, medical appointments, etc. Now I’m back here working a regular weekend swing shift gig, back in the trenches. I am generally well-thought-of in this agency, after a long association with it, and even got this job without having to come in for an interview.
Yeah, maybe not so much after tonight.
This client receives three types of insulin, and I gave the first of them correctly. Then I gave the second one incorrectly. Then I caught the mistake and called it in without giving the third dose.
The client will be fine. I was told, as I figured I would be, to hold the third type of insulin altogether, give him a slightly larger dinner, extra juice, and monitor his blood sugars about hourly. Fortunately his blood sugar was a bit high to begin with.
I feel like such a jerk. This poor guy. I’m so glad I caught it right away, at least. It could have been a disaster.
I hate making mistakes in general, and I especially hate that my mistake could have really hurt – possibly even killed – this client.
You can bet it will never happen again.
I work at a group home for “severe & persistent mental illness” clients. There are more than a dozen clients, residents, whatever you want to call them. The term changes regularly what with varying forms of political correctness; at one point we called them “consumers,” as in “consumers of mental health services” but I never liked that term. It makes them sound all take and no give.
At any rate, I used to run such a house. I found it to be super stressful and was happy to give it up. Ironically, the part I liked the best about working in these types of facilities was giving medications and dealing with doctors’ offices, medical appointments, etc. Now I’m back here working a regular weekend swing shift gig, back in the trenches. I am generally well-thought-of in this agency, after a long association with it, and even got this job without having to come in for an interview.
Yeah, maybe not so much after tonight.
This client receives three types of insulin, and I gave the first of them correctly. Then I gave the second one incorrectly. Then I caught the mistake and called it in without giving the third dose.
The client will be fine. I was told, as I figured I would be, to hold the third type of insulin altogether, give him a slightly larger dinner, extra juice, and monitor his blood sugars about hourly. Fortunately his blood sugar was a bit high to begin with.
I feel like such a jerk. This poor guy. I’m so glad I caught it right away, at least. It could have been a disaster.
I hate making mistakes in general, and I especially hate that my mistake could have really hurt – possibly even killed – this client.
You can bet it will never happen again.
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