Jules vs Nuts

notes

2012-01-31T20:00:00.000-08:00

I love giving gifties. It brings me joy to pick out a present for someone, to find something that I know they will like. For me, giving someone a gift shows the person that I care about them-- I was thinking of them, I know them, and I listen to them. I guess that makes gift giving one of my love languages, or however that's supposed to work.
Anyhow, I love giving gifts! So I would definitely continue to give my nieces and nephews presents either way, but receiving the thank-you notes they send me? Icing on the cake.

Remember the little basketty thing I bought Princess for her 11th birthday? Well she liked it!

I've also recently gotten a bunch of notes from my other nieces and nephews, for their Christmas gifties. It has been really fun for me to open my mailbox and find little kid-handwritten cards inside it.

I taped the notes up on my kitchen cabinets, and they make me smile every day. I love those kids dearly, and I love that they enjoy the presents I got them.

Sing the Blues, Dance in the Fire

2012-01-30T21:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, a certain Swistle recommended the movie Sita Sings the Blues. She said:

"This is one of the oddest movies I have ever seen (funny/accurate summary from the Wikipedia article: "It intersperses events from the Ramayana, illustrated conversation between Indian shadow puppets, musical interludes voiced with tracks by Annette Hanshaw and scenes from the artist's own life") ... It's like nothing else I've seen, a weird mix of 1920s/30s music and four kinds of animation and...I don't even know what to tell you except to try it and see if it's to your tastes as well."

I watched it last night (which you can do online for free. But I'm probably going to buy it too, since I liked it so much and I want to support the artist.), and YES it definitely was to my taste. Hello, new favorite movie! It is so, so strange, but also incredibly creative and FUNNY. And I would definitely recommend it if you are looking for a way to feel like you are a little high, without actually being high. There were some moments wherein I was completely entranced, staring at the screen with a glazed-over look and a half smile. It was great.

**The rest of this post contains some spoilers from the movie, just FYI (but they are also things that are on the web site).**

The other thing I liked about Sita Sings the Blues was the running theme of heartbreak and breakuppage, both in the Ramayana and in the artist's own life. It is the story of a woman so completely devoted to her man that she will do anything to prove her love and to be with him, to the point of being walked all over and heartlessly cast aside. Hey! There's a feeling I know! That's not meant to be a jab at KC; I'm only saying that the general feeling of the movie was something I could identify with. I watched it with a friend who had also semi-recently gone through a breakup and at one point in the movie we looked at each other, nodding. Yeah. That's what it feels like.

There was also a particular scene in the movie wherein Nina (the artist) calls her ex and begs him to take her back. Oy. I remember that about a month before KC and I broke up, KC's brother actually broke up with HIS girlfriend (Interestingly, KC's other brother was also in the midst of a divorce at the time. Draw your own conclusions.). I remember talking to KC about it and KC telling me that he was impressed by his brother's girlfriend's response, "She didn't flip out or cry or anything. She was just like 'Okay' and then she took off."
I wish I could tell you that I handled KC's and my breakup with similar ease, that I shrugged it off and instantly realized I was better off without him. But that would not be true. I DID cry, and I cried HYSTERICALLY and for a GOOD LONG TIME. And flipping out? Check. I was so blindsided by the breakup that I had to have KC explain it to me numerous times before it really sank in. I kept saying things like "Wait. You're really breaking up with me? Like, we're not going to be together anymore?" and "So you're just... moving on then? I don't understand." and "BUT WHY? [heave, sob] WHAT DID I DO WRONG? Whatever it was, I'M [choke, sob] SORRY, I'M SO SORRY." I just didn't get it. It was unfathomable to me that our relationship would end. And if someone were to make a movie of that part in my life there would definitely be a scene that involved me ~~begging~~ asking him to change his mind. If one of us had the upper hand in that breakup, it was clearly not me.
It's humiliating to think about; I'd like to just go back and reframe it so that I was in the mindset where I am NOW. I'd like to gloss over it and just say it was a mutual breakup, blah blah it just didn't work out, we wanted different things, he wasn't right guy for me. But I wasn't the one to end the relationship, even though those things are true (that we wanted different things and he wasn't the right guy for me). So I admire Nina Paley's courage to share the heartwrenching moments from her life. Everyone has pain. How we respond at the time doesn't define us.

KC may have broken my heart, but I lived and grew and healed and a hundred people put it back together.

Spot on.

2012-01-25T22:00:00.000-08:00

This is Elena (and me, obviously):

For some reason this was the only photo of her I could find on my computer, and it is from about five years ago. Not the best photo of me, but I had just graduated from my first master's program and we were out celebrating with family, friends, and pitchers of margaritas.

Elena and I met on the bus, on our way to middle school. After that first year of getting to know each other huddled around the heaters in our flimsy school uniforms, we (along with two other girls, who will get their own post sometime) spent three years carpooling, having sleepovers, and getting ready for school dances together. Elena and I remained friends throughout high school, even though she was definitely way cooler than me. We pretty much lost touch in college, but reconnected when she moved to LA. In the years that our time in LA overlapped, we would often meet up for brunch or lunch or breakfast or dinner or some other meal at any point in the day when we both happened to be hungry. Sometimes we would take her dog for a hike in Runyon Canyon or go shopping on Melrose or at the Beverly Center. Sometimes we would sneak into the fancy hotels and hang out at the pools and Elena always knew how to play it off so the management just accepted our presence. One time Elena hosted a Cinco de Mayo party at her house, complete with a piñata.

Elena is one of those girls who could ACTUALLY pull off wearing a burlap sack and look killer in it. She does improv and standup and once actually got up on a stage and read her middle school diary in front of a crowd of people.

She also made this video:

This is essentially a documentary of my life there. Ah, the endless quest for parking. Seriously, it is SPOT ON. And, weirdly, it makes me miss LA.

WELL THEN

2012-01-24T22:00:00.000-08:00

So. As I've mentioned, I've been trying my hand at online dating. It's been... interesting. If nothing else I've gotten an eye-opening lesson in the quality of single dudes out there. Not high quality, is what I've found so far. If I were to compare them to, say, dinner ingredients, I might tell you that you wouldn't want to make a formal meal with these guys as the entree. You'd boil them down to make guy stock for bullion cubes or deep fry them and dip them in ranch dressing. You wouldn't want to BRING OUT the flavor of these guys, is all I'm saying. You'd want to suppress it, and probably heavily season it. You'd probably want to have a few drinks with the meal in order to make it palatable, which, incidentally, is exactly what I've been doing on my recent dates. Not cannibalizing the guy, I mean. Drinking.

Uh, anyhow. A couple days ago I saw a profile that caught my eye. The guy seemed interesting enough and he made it through my fairly persnickety filtering system. And so I sent him a little message, just saying hi, and I think I might have also mentioned that I like his favorite book. Fascinating, I know, but I never know what to say in those messages.

Today I got an instant message from him. Perhaps you will remember that in the little section on my profile where it asks about the first things people notice about you, I wrote: "My hair, my tattoo, my wild hand gestures, my long-winded stories. My sparkling personality? I'm not going to put the thing most people REALLY notice about me on here, but if you meet me you'll know." Guys tend to be intrigued by this and often they do guess right away when the meet me, but sometimes I'll get a surprising answer like "It's your weird nose, isn't it?" Also, more than one guy has laughed and said that he thought maybe I had a wooden leg or something, no offense to any amputees out there.

This dude had a different idea.

MY PROFILE SUGGESTS THAT I HAVE BIG B00BS. I MIGHT WANT TO FIX THAT.

Annnnd, scene.

This interaction might have bothered me if I had ANY EXPECTATIONS AT ALL OF HUMANITY ANYMORE. Which I don't. I have accepted that there are no good guys left. This guy just CONFIRMED WHAT I ALREADY KNEW.

If you need me, I'll be packing.

Jaded Contingency Plan CDP

2012-01-20T00:00:00.000-08:00

Awhile back, a loverly person sent me a Crappy Day Package. She told me it was to be opened on a VERY CRAPPY occasion, that I shouldn't even open the box unless I was feeling spectacularly crappy. So I held onto the box for weeks, using it as kind of a litmus test. I would ask myself: Is today crappy? Yes. But is it crappy ENOUGH for the big CDP? Maybe not.
And so the box stayed under my desk. It was nice to know I had it around, just in case I had an exceptionally crappy day. Kind of like a security blanket.

You know what's better than a security blanket? An ACTUAL blanket.

A bright, beautiful, cozy, cuddly SNUGGLE BLANKET.

I opened the box today, right after I got home from dinner. It was so worth the wait.

I went to dinner tonight with a group of gals from my school program. They are all really nice people. Lovely, really. But tonight, I left the group feeling... well, crappy. Because although I know I shouldn't compare my life to anyone else's and although I generally feel good about myself and happy with my life, being with that particular group of people brought me down a little bit. All of those gals passed their Giant Paper Things on the first try, graduated on time, took their board exams, and most of them have jobs already or are at least living settled-ish lives. Me? I spent 2011 learning that when you ASSUME, you make an ass out of yourself in front of the entire internet. I assumed I would pass my Giant Paper Thing on the first try, and ha ha ha that didn't happen. I assumed I would graduate in June and surprise! Nope. I assumed that I would take my board exam and I would have a job at least by December or January, and sigh, no. Not yet.

(Have I mentioned that I am taking my board exam in February? I'm parenthesizing this because I feel like the Universe has been doing a bit of excessive smiting of me recently, so I'm trying to fly under the radar here. I am certainly studying my ass off and hoping that I pass the exam on the first time, but no need to smite me for being cocky, Universe, for I know now not to just EXPECT that I will pass. After I finished Giant Paper Thing v 2.0, I was cautiously optimistic-- BUT I had a contingency plan in case I did not pass the second time. So. If I don't pass my board exam the first time, well I guess I'll find out when I can take it again, study even harder, and take it again. Maybe I'll have to look for a non-NP job while I study, or even move back in with my parents, but the point here is that my life will go on and things will be okay, even if they're not exactly as I planned. Planning, it seems, is what leads me to make an assume out of myself.)

Also at dinner tonight was the necessary telling of the breakup story, since most of these gals had not seen me since 'graduation' in June. So I told them about my breakup, and about how I've been on so many bad dates recently that it's like a douchebag convention. I don't know why I didn't anticipate it, but this led to the inevitable "Oh don't be cynical, you'll find him!" and "You've got plenty of time!" and "You should just concentrate on yourself for now" comments. I love these ladies-- they are all really nice and smart and whatnot and I know their hearts were in the right place, but if there is one thing I hate it is BEING TOLD HOW TO FEEL ABOUT SOMETHING. I would like to just be allowed to feel how I feel and have that be okay. I don't need anyone to try to fix it, and I ESPECIALLY don't need anyone telling me that the way I feel is wrong.
"Maybe you shouldn't be looking so hard for someone right now." I'm not desperately searching for Mr. Right at this precise moment. Right now I'm playing the field. If I meet someone amazing, great. If I don't, that's fine. I've been a little disheartened recently by the dating pool as it seems to be overwrought with asshats, but I tell those stories because I think they are funny and entertaining, not because I need you to tell me "Just stop looking and it'll happen!"
And the kicker is that I didn't even think I sounded that emo or cynical when I talked about that stuff. Maybe it is because this group of people didn't see me when I was heartbroken, sad, and angry, so they interpret Contingency Plan Julia as jaded and woeful. I feel like I'm being smart. The last thing that I want is to be waiting around to meet someone until it's too late for me to biologically have babies. I'm not saying that I have some deadline in mind, but I'm realizing that it is possible that I won't get married and I'll be damned if that means I'm giving up on my dream of having children. If finding a dude who I can stand and who wants the same things as me doesn't pan out, well then maybe I'll have to go a different direction-- maybe once I've worked for a couple of years I'll have babies by myself or maybe I'll become a foster or adoptive mom. That's not a defeatist attitude, it's realistic. But apparently it comes across as cynical and give-uppy when coupled with a breakup story, several anecdotes about douchey guys, AND a currently not-yet-employed status.

Bah. Whatever. Maybe I am jaded. But I do have a new blankie that makes me feel nice and warm in my hollow tin chest.

Dollhouse Love

2012-01-09T21:00:00.000-08:00

My 10 year old niece got a cell phone for Christmas. I, her 29 year old aunt, got a dollhouse. No, really.

This is from a post a couple years ago that I think should illustrate why I love dollhouses so much:

My grandmother built my dollhouse and I remember it being spectacular. I think I probably remember it as more spectacular than it actually was. But that is because I loved it so much.

It lived at my grandma's house and I played with it pretty much every time I went over there. So, a lot. I would make up stories and scenarios for the dolls. I would arrange them in the various rooms. I would make extra things for the house-- a mailbox made out of a clothespin, a tiny drawing to hang on the wall. I would act out the storybooks my grandma read to me. I would take out all the furniture and things and use my grandma's cleaning products to scrub the carpet and clean the floors and then I would put the furniture back in and arrange everything nicely.

My grandmother died when I was 12 and I was devastated. I miss her more than I can accurately describe. She was really the only person I was completely myself around, when I was younger. I know our relationship would be different if she were alive today. I know that I would never appreciate her more than I did when I was a child.

I'll spare you the rest of the post, which basically describes how I was SOBBING HYSTERICALLY when I found the remnants of my dollhouse furniture mixed in with the rest of my nieces' and nephews' toys. The post was written right around the time of THIS, so I think it is safe to assume that my emotions were all over the place and I may have been expressing some displaced anguish. But. My dollhouse was a big part of my childhood. In some ways I guess I considered it a physical object that represented my relationship with my grandmother. Dollhouse = LOVE.
I was devastated when my grandmother died, devastated again when the dollhouse broke into pieces, and devastated again when I found out that the pieces had been either lost or thrown out over the years. The furniture was all I had left, and so I was happy to see it again, but also disappointed and sad that so much of it had been broken or lost.

In November, my mom and I went to the antiques faire to do some Christmas shopping. We spotted a very sweet dollhouse at one of the stands and went over to admire it.
"It's so cute," my mom said.
"I love it," I said.
We admired it some more and then went about our business. My mom bought a fancy chess set for my dad for Christmas, I bought a couple Breyer horses for my nieces.
"That dollhouse really was cute," my mom said.
"It REALLY was," I said.
"I think maybe you need a new dollhouse."
"I think maybe I do!"

And so, Christmas morning, I came out to the living room and found this by the tree:

Dollhouse = LOVE.

Winter Holiday Potpourri

2012-01-08T22:00:00.000-08:00

I say Winter Holiday not to be politically correct, but because there were two (for me): Christmas and New Year's. Well, and Kwanzaa. I always wish people a Happy Kwanzaa on December 26th; it's the first day, you know.
Anyhow!
I had a really really lovely visit with my family over Christmas. After recent endeavors, I'd been in need of a palate-cleansing couple of weeks of just good clean family fun. And family fun there was. We did all sorts of outings, eatings, and hangin at my parents' house. The kids got together and built a rather elaborate jumps course in the back yard, where they spent HOURS pretending to be horses and, well, jumping.

Most of them have Nintendo DSs and a couple have Kindle Fires, so it was quite nice to see that their favorite thing to do was playing an outdoorsy running-around-together game. There were only a couple spectacular crashing falls. And sometimes one of them would yell "Refusal!" and then skitter sideways, giggling.

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My nephew got a remote control helicopter for Christmas. It looked like this one (but I suspect it was a cheaper version).

Two of my brothers in law held and impromptu competition to see who could fly the helicopter, hover it, lower the grappling hook, and pick up the basket better. One of my bros in law flew the helicopter right into the wall and then hovered it over a vat of gravy as the rest of us, as though in slow-motion, yelled NOOOOOOO and tried to save the gravy. And my other bro in law flew the helicopter directly behind him, into the living room (which is full of breakable knicky knackies and decorative ceramic items), and impaled it in my mom's antique Japanese screen above the piano.
"That's an OUTSIDE toy," said my mom.

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I wrapped some of my gifts in Flip & Tumble bags, and some in pretty scarves from the flea market. I thought they looked very festive.

My sister was teasing me about my Hippied Out San Franciscan Eco Friendly wrapping paper and I told her I couldn't hear her ALL THE WAY UP HERE ON MY HIGH HORSE.

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I went out with Jenny and a couple of her good friends on New Year's Eve Eve. It was probably my favorite New Year's celebration of recent memory. Because: whenever I have gone out on ACTUAL NYE I've always come back semi-disappointed. It has always felt like it should be a bigger deal and more FUN than it really was. And it's hard to find a bar that is cool but that isn't overly crowded or charging a ridiculous cover. And it's a pain to get there and to get home afterward. Anyhow, going out the night before solved all of those problems-- it was lots of fun and I didn't have unrealistic expectations, it wasn't overly crowded or expensive, and it was easy to get there and get home. We had a fantastic time and Jenny managed to make some guy who was trying to hit on her cry. In her defense, he did have a chin-strap beard. A CHIN-STRAP BEARD. One of the international signs for douchebag.

On actual NYE I spent the evening at my parents' house, eating Chinese food and playing board games with my nieces. By midnight I was in a bubble bath, book in hand.

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I have finally found a game I can beat my nieces at. Good old TABOO! Every other game they wipe the floor with me. They have this one game that's about the states and capitals and whoever has the most cards at the end wins. They all end up with fifteen or so and I'm over here with my sad four little cards. They even beat me at Fact or Crap and they didn't even know how to pronounce most of the historical occurrences or famous people that the game references.

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After New Year's, I took a two-day road trip with my sister and her kids to help her move into their new house. After many hours of (me) driving we arrived at the house to find that there was no hot water. My bro in law was out of town, but he kept sending his friends over to 'fix' the water heater, which involved them doing things like... flipping the circuit breaker while I watched and exasperatedly thought I TRIED THAT. WHAT ELSE YA GOT? Other things I tried to get the water heater to work: flipping the circuit breaker multiple times, breaking into my bro in law's tool box to find a wrench and opening the panel on the water heater and pressing the red reset button, glaring at the water heater, cursing at the water heater. Two days of this and then we finally had a professional come out. He did a satisfying amount of work on the water heater-- yanking out hunks of metal and scary-looking charred bits-- so my sister and I felt justified in having a professional come look at it instead of just waiting for her husband to get back into town on Friday (aka, the day before the weekend, when they probably would have had to wait until MONDAY to have a professional come out).
My sister also ordered a new fridge, which arrived on Tuesday. The delivery man heaved the thing all the way from the truck and into the kitchen and then he told me "Oh. It's not gonna fit." Apparently my sister and I neglected to incorporate the baseboards into our measurements of the fridge's space. I had no way of reaching my sis or her husband (they were both at work) and the delivery man was about to leave me with a fridge standing in the center of the kitchen and an extension cord running to the wall, AND there wouldn't be anyone to accept the delivery of different fridge on a different day, or pick out a new fridge for that matter, since they live in a wee tiny town and stores tend to close early. So I made an executive decision and, well, nobody needs to know what may or may not have happened to the baseboards but let's just focus on the fact that the fridge fits now. It FITS.

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I participated in Doing My Best's Crappy Day Present Exchange, which was super fun all around: I had fun answering the survey questions, I had fun shopping for my little gifties and sending them off, and I had fun receiving CDPs and opening them when I had a crappy day. Apparently I was not so good at chronicling the buying, wrapping, sending, receiving, or opening of the CDPs like a good little blogger, but FUN. It was fun. And I still have one CDP that I'm holding onto for a particularly crappy occurrence.

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Bowie is an indoor cat all around, but for some reason at my parents' house he THINKS he wants to go outside. Maybe it's because he sees the birds and whatnot, maybe he's jealous of the other indoor/outdoor cats, who knows? But I can tell you that he doesn't ACTUALLY want to be an outside cat because (1) he currently lives like a king and I'm certain he doesn't want to give that up, and (2) whenever he does get out he mostly hides under the porch.
The kids have gotten better at keeping the doors closed, so Bowie hasn't gotten out at my parents' house in a year or so. On the day that I was about to leave he apparently snuck out the one screenless open window in the house and I didn't even REALIZE it until two of my nieces ran into the house and shrieked that Bowie was outside, headed for the ravine. We all leaped into action; the kids grabbed flashlights and ran out to corral Bowie before he made it to the (full of coyotes and poison oak and who knows what else) ravine, and I stomped out to front door to get my sweatshirt from the car because if I was going to be hunting for my cat all night, I was at least going to be WARM. I got my sweater out of the car, turned around, and THERE WAS BOWIE just sitting under the open window (I think he had run away from all the shouting and flashing lights). I took a flying leap at him, missed as he ran into the bushes, but did manage to bruise up both my knees and twist my ankle. He ran out of the bushes, toward the porch (of course), and I grabbed him by the tail.
As a poison oak precaution (and the girls' reward for helping retrieve him) Bowie got a bath.

Maybe that'll learn him to STAY INSIDE.

New Year

2011-12-31T22:00:00.000-08:00

A meme! Something to prompt my NYE writing! Good! Here we go.

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before?
Graduated from nursing school. Became a licensed Nurse Practitioner. Went on a medical mission. Went to an estate sale. Went to a flea market by myself. Rode the bus from San Diego to LA. Wrong number texted somebody.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I kept some of my resolutions more than others. I'll make some more for next year, but that's for another post.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Beckie! Lots of other people that I know less well.

4. Did anyone close to you die?

Family and friends-wise, no. But several patients I worked with died (most of them were hospice patients).

5. What countries did you visit?
El Salvador.

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011?
A full time NP job. A bigger apartment. Better self-appreciation.

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
The ones that I remember are for Bad Things. Let's let those dates fade away.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Writing and passing my Giant Paper Thing, graduating from nursing school, getting my NP license.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Giant Paper Thing.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Nothing major. Unless heartbreak counts.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My Silver jeans.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Yours. Yes, YOURS. I could not have made it through the year without friends, both of the know-me-in-real-life and know-me-only-on-the-internet variety. There was always someone there when I was in need of comfort, laughter, snark, help packing up my ex's stuff, or a crappy day present. I am so, so lucky.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?

Jenny's ex boyfriend. My ex boyfriend, KC. My ex boyfriend from college. My friend's husband.

Various famous people and their bad choices and secret double lives.

14. Where did most of your money go?

Living expenses. Assorted hoop-jumping for licensure.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Graduating. Glee Live. Christmas. HP7P2. My USC Trojans. Various going out adventures and shenanigans.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011?

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:

a) happier or sadder? At this moment I am happier. Overall this year I was sadder.
b) thinner or fatter? I dunno. About the same.

c) richer or poorer? Poorer.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Spending time with friends and family. Being very present in the moment. Studying.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Weeping. Feeling bad about myself.

20. How did you spend Christmas?
At my parents' house. Wrapped in new jammies and love.

21. Did you fall in love in 2011?
The opposite.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
Parks and Recreation.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

My hatred is reserved for only the WORST of the worst, so no. But there are definitely people whom I newly dislike.

24. What was the best book you read?
The Hunger Games.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
This song makes me think of my awesome road trip with Jenny.

26. What did you want and get?
A degree in nursing.

27. What did you want and not get?
A new phone. Mine is held together with rubber bands now. Technically I did order a new one in 2011, but it won't arrive until 'next year' (har har). I would REALLY like to have a better, cheaper plan but so far all of my jaunts to the Verizon store have left me shaky and angry, but without a better plan or the ability to access my account online. 2012 FTW?

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2.

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
Went out with friends on the weekend before it. Got a massage and lunch with a friend on my actual birthday. Went to lunch with my family the weekend after it. I turned 29.

30. What is one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Having a job waiting for me after graduation, instead of being in this weird limbo of studying for board exam/applying for jobs after obtaining a prestigious degree from a fine learning institution. Because I'm getting very tired of being told that since I'm a nurse it should be easy to get a job.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011?
New convert to leggings, still working out the kinks.

32. What kept you sane?
Friends, family, music, Twitter, comfort food, venting, running, reading, organizing my apartment, trashy TV.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Meh.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Planned Parenthood.

35. Who did you miss?
My LA peeps.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
All the people on my El Salvador trip, especially Monica.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011.
Things don't always turn out how you plan, even if you plan really really well and want it very badly and work really fucking hard.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
Don't stop me now.

71. memorize the 12 Days of Christmas

2011-12-22T13:00:00.000-08:00

Last year, Swistle blew my mind a little bit when she deconstructed first Do They Know it's Christmas, and then Winter Wonderland. I've been paying more attention to Christmas song lyrics this year, partly because of the aforementioned blown mind and partly because I was finally, FINALLY going to memorize the 12 Days of Christmas. Never say that I don't have goals, people.
As per my tradition, my car radio has been tuned to the Christmas music station since the day after Thanksgiving. Every time the 12 Days of Christmas comes on, I do my very best to belt it out, even if I'm in the car with another person and we were deep in conversation. "Hang on!" I'll say, "I have to do something! ON THE FIRST DAY OF CHRISTMAS, MY TRUE LOVE GAVE TO MEEE...."

I got to the point where I THOUGHT I had it memorized, but then recently I was singing along with the radio and I kept getting thrown off and tripping over the verses, like "TWELVE DRUMMERS D- oops, LORDS-A-LEAPING! ELEVEN PIPERS PI-, I mean, DRUMMERS DRUMMING!" And that didn't seem quite right. Because, as I remembered, the first seven days are all the birds, with a nice little time-out for the five gold rings. And then on the eighth day come the maids-a-milking, which makes for a good transition point from animals to humans because it is a human/animal combo verse (maid plus cow). And then the ninth day is ladies dancing, which makes sense because right after that comes the tenth day, with lords-a-leaping. If you've got ladies dancing, you must also have lords-a-leaping, and you should always have MORE lords-a-leaping than ladies dancing. And THEN of course, you round out the group with eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming, because all of this merry-making could probably use a nice pipe and drum-based soundtrack (though I suspect the maids-a-milking probably get a little irked at this point, what with all the noise and dancing and LEAPING that's going on as they are trying to do their chores).

That was the version I memorized, and the one I heard most often on the radio, but now I was getting thrown off. So then I looked it up, and you know what I found out? Apparently, it is totally acceptable 12 Days of Christmas behavior to MIX UP THE LYRICS of the last few objects. You can even SUBSTITUTE some of the people with "fiddlers fiddling" or "ladies waiting," which makes me feel like we're being set up to fail. How can a person memorize the lyrics, if they can just CHANGE at any moment? Well, I'm crossing this item off my list because technically I DID memorize the lyrics; it's just a TRICK SONG.

Further on the subject of Christmas song lyrics, I can't listen to Baby, it's Cold Outside anymore because of the distinct date-rapey vibe (SAY WHAT'S IN THIS DRINK?). I make an exception of the Glee Cast version, because it's actually kinda cute.
And, is it just me, or is anyone else completely terrified by the concept of Frosty the Snowman? The kids build a snowman, put a hat on it, and then it COMES TO LIFE. And then, what? He threatens the kids with a broomstick in his hand, so now they're forced to follow him over the hills (probably farther than their mothers told them they were allowed to go), into town, and through an INTERSECTION. And just as they're getting kind of used to the idea of it being their lot in life to chase him around, he tells them "Sorry, I've gotta peace out" AND leaves them with a menacing "BUT I'LL COME BACK SOMEDAY." So now the poor kids have to go through life wondering which storm will bring the demon snowman back around.
I guess the message here is to always bring your OWN HAT when you're going to build a snowman, don't just use one you FIND. Lesson learned.

Stages

2011-12-21T16:00:00.000-08:00

Denial

Anger

Depression

Comfort Food

Retail Therapy

Care Packages

Kind Words

Ridiculousness

Laughter.

Family, friends, love.

Happiness.

I give up.

2011-12-17T12:00:00.000-08:00

There are no good guys.
There are just no good guys left. Are there? I would like to be proven wrong here, but it is definitely starting to seem like THERE REALLY ARE NO GOOD GUYS OMG.

On my online dating profile there is a section where you are supposed to write about the first things people notice about you. I wrote: "My hair, my tattoo, my wild hand gestures, my long-winded stories. My sparkling personality? I'm not going to put the thing most people REALLY notice about me on here, but if you meet me you'll know."
I'm assuming that most of you, dear readers, know what that last sentence refers to?
Anyhow, I met up with a guy a couple weeks ago and halfway through our beers he asked me about it.

Guy: So, what's the thing that people notice about you?

Me: You can't guess?

Guy: I don't know... it's not your tattoo, right? Because you mentioned that.

Me: No, not my tattoo.

Guy: Is it your nose? Your nose is kind of weird. It's your nose, isn't it?

Me: o_O

I met another boy a few weeks ago. He seemed nice, whatever. We hung out a few times... and then I mentioned something about how I would break up with a guy if he cheated on me. And then this boy gave me a speech about how cheating isn't THAT big of a deal because everybody cheats, even good guys, and KC probably cheated on me because guys usually do and a guy wouldn't give up a relationship unless there is someone else he wants, and I just don't understand because I don't have any kids (neither does he, by the way), but when you HAVE kids you realize that you have to work things out for the sake of the family, so when someone cheats then you forgive them. *pat pat on my head*
Me: O_o

And then there was last night. I went to see the Nutcracker with my friend's boyfriend's neighbor. I don't know him very well, and neither does my friend, nor her boyfriend. But we have all hung out in group settings before and I just assumed he was, y'know, NORMAL. I did NOT think he would abandon me on the street corner in an unfamiliar area of the Tenderloin. BUT THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED.
Here's what went down: One of the times the group of us all hung out, dude said he wanted to see the Nutcracker. I offered to go with him, if he was looking for someone with whom to go. So then last weekend he texted me and said he was buying the tickets for Friday (last night). I told him that I had an interview in Dublin at 4pm and I would hopefully be back in time, and I asked how much my ticket was. He said not to worry about it.
I ended up leaving Dublin at 5:30 so it took me two full hours to get home. I changed, grabbed a taxi, and made it to the theater at intermission. Dude was standing at the stairs with a glass of champagne for me. I was feeling cranky and bummed that I had missed the first half of the show, not to mention starving since I hadn't eaten much all day (too nervous because of the interview). But I drank my champagne and started to feel better. We watched the second half of the show (which was amazing, by the way) and then afterward dude asked me if I was hungry. Yes, I definitely was. He suggested a fancyish restaurant. I said we could just go to Mel's because I was really craving a grilled cheese sandwich. He said okay and we started to walk. After a block or so he said he really wanted to go to the fancy place. I said that was fine, let's go. So we walked... and walked and walked. We got to the restaurant and it was packed. So dude said we would go somewhere else and we started walking again. The following is a transcription of our conversation as we walked.

Him: I went to a new bar in my neighborhood called [something about a goat, I can't remember the name]. I just thought that was the stupidest name, ever. Like, why would you open a new bar and name it that?

Me: Because it's funny? I dunno. I think it sounds funny. Goats are funny.

Him: There's this other bar, I think it's near Eleventh and Folsom-

Me [laughing]: Is it the Holy Cow?

Him: Ugh. No. I hate that place.

Me: Whaaat? You can't hate that place! It's a dive club!

Him: People dance on tables there. I tend to avoid places like that.

Me: Oh.

We walk for awhile in silence.

Me [noticing that we are passing restaurants left and right]: Um. Where are we going?

Him: Well, if you want to go to any of these places we can, but I want to find this one.... [looking at phone].

Me: Okay.

We keep walking.

Him: Oh, here it is. Right up there.

Another block.

Me: Um. Where is this place?

Him: What? Are you getting annoyed?

Me: Well, no. But I mean, I don't want to walk forever. Where is this place?

Him: Right up there [gestures vaguely ahead].

More walking. (And let me explain here-- I don't usually MIND walking. I enjoy it, even. But tonight I was wearing fancy boots and a fancy outfit and I also just kind of wanted to pick a place and get some damn food.)

Me: Sooo, um, IS it right up there?

Him: Yeah.

Me [laughing]: Okay! Well NOW I'm annoyed!

Him: You know what? [stops walking, turns to face me, gives me a fake smile, grabs my hand, and shakes it].

Me: Wha?

Him: I'm just getting a really bad vibe from you.

Me: Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-

Him: I was really happy.

Me: And I'm bringing you down? I'm sorry, I just-

Him: [turns and walks away]

Me: [look around, realize I'm in an unfamiliar section of the Tenderloin and I don't know how to get out]

Me: O_O

I give up. There are no good guys.

D-lightful

2011-12-16T12:00:00.000-08:00

This is D.

I met D on the first orientation day of the crazy accelerated RN part of our program. We were standing in line to get our photos taken for our name tags and I had turned away from this insufferable twit behind me and butted my way into D's conversation with another girl. I think my opening line was something about how heavy my backpack was, she agreed that hers was, too, and we've been friends ever since.
Since my specialty is Ger1atr1cs and D's is Midw1fery, we had all our classes together for only one quarter and then a few here and there for the rest of the three years. We would meet up for dinner or drinkies and I'd tell her about some 75 year old patient with a chronic illness I had seen, and she would tell me about the babies she had caught that day.

I met D when I was still with The Crazy Ex, and she was one of the first people I opened up to about how bad things really were with him. She is one of the people who never judged me, but who supported me endlessly and helped me pick up the pieces of my life after I got out of that situation. We have both gone through some rough times during our three years in school. I tend to get caught up with all the little things and stress and cry and FLIP OUT over everything, but D handles tough situations with endless grace and strength. If something is too hard to deal with at that moment she'll take a break and come back to it. "I had to put it on the shelf for awhile," she'll say. I don't think I could have gotten through the program without her.

D loves music and dances with her eyes closed. She is the girl you see at a coffee shop, studying a huge pile of books. She grows her own herbs. She'll strike up a conversation with anyone. While I tend to shy away from solo social activities and dislike most people, D will go to a concert by herself, meet a new friend on the bus ride there, and befriend the guys living in the park. She has friends named Mama Sue, Wolf, Fuzzy, and Brunch. She's the only person I know who doesn't just tolerate other people, she appreciates and, for lack of a better word, celebrates them.

She went to visit a friend a couple hours away and ended up getting LOST IN THE WOODS ALL NIGHT LONG. She'll tell you the story, which includes her getting separated from her group, losing her shoes, and sleeping in a ditch, and she'll laugh and shrug it off. "It was quite an adventure," she says. While I struggle to be open-minded and easygoing and adventurous and a light packer, D already is all of those things.

D recently moved up north to start working in a m1dw1fery practice. There was a snafu with her (out of state) license so her new workplace created a position for her to work as an RN until she could start practicing as a m1dw1fe, this week. I talked to her yesterday and she said it has been going well, but she's still nervous. I'll tell ya what, those ladies are lucky to have D working with them. Someday if/when I ever have babies, there is no question in my mind that I would want her there with me.

I miss you, girl. I don't think you know how special you are, but the rest of the world seems to. We're all lucky to have you.

For the Tots, 2011

2011-12-15T11:00:00.000-08:00

Right around this time last year, I read a couple of posts by a certain Bloggess that inspired me to start my very first Christmas tradition of my own. I went out and bought a bunch of toys for the tots. They lived under my Christmas tree for a week or so, and then I donated them all. It made me so happy, knowing I was doing something good and helping people and putting smiles on kids' faces, plus there was the bonus of my house looking especially festive for a little while.
Here is what my tree looked like last year:

And here is what it looks like right now:

Actually, I took the photo last night. But the toys are still all there.

I may have gone a little overboard. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I bought all of these toys at Walgreens, using their buy two get one free and buy one get one free deals. I enjoy shopping in general and shopping for toys in particular, and this year I'm giving my nieces and nephews mostly stuff I found at the flea market (that they'll like!), so it was fun to go out and BUY TOYS. Lots of toys!

I'm going to donate them all this weekend. Shout out to the Bloggess for inspiring me to start doing this, and Merry Christmas to one and all!

Potpourri

2011-12-13T12:00:00.000-08:00

This weekend was incredibly fun. On Friday afternoon Jenny and Gabriel came over and we hung out while we waited for Gabey's dad to pick him up. We watched my favorite Christmas movie and Gabey played with some early Christmas gifties I gave him. He was sweet and good and patient but his dad was about three hours late, which is an awful long time for a little boy to wait in a tiny apartment with next to no toys. Which means that my house transformed into a Justin Bieber-ified video watching/dance party space, as usual.
And Jenny caught these videos of me... singing?

Please take note that my cat is nearly the same size as Jenny's child.

And then we spent approximately twenty minutes attempting to pronounce the word anemone.
And then we went out! And the night was filled with shenanigans and tomfoolery, as per usual.

---

I spent Sunday at my parents' house, hanging out with some of my nieces and nephews and decorating their Christmas tree. It was the culmination of two solid weeks of me burning the candle at both ends, so to speak, so I spent a good amount of time sitting on the couch, handing ornaments to the kids and vaguely gesturing where I thought they should end up. My mom got out her ballerina Christmas tree topper that she keeps in the cabinet with her fine china and my brother in law climbed the ladder (my parents always get a really tall Christmas tree that has to be lashed to the ceiling beams) to put it at the top.

Bro in law: Here?

Me: Higher!

Bro in law: Here?

Me: Higher! It has to be higher than the mime!

My dad: Wait. Why... is there a mime on the tree?

Me: Lucky [10 year old niece] put it there. Is it really an ornament?

Lucky: It was in the box with all the decorations....

Me: But... why was it there? It's creepy.

My dad: It is sort of creepy.

My mom: It's an ornament! Everything becomes an ornament eventually. You sit still long enough, you end up on my Christmas tree.

---

I am currently making a batch of my tortilla soup. I found a variety of semi-gone-bad ingredients in my fridge so it's really not a question of IF I will get sick, but of WHICH ingredient will be the culprit. Will it be the partially-gloopy cilantro? The hard, stale tortillas? The shriveled onion? Only time will tell!

---

I realized the other day that I have a post on this site titled Balls, and a post titled Wangs. That's... a lot of innuendo for a site that rarely mentions intimate relations.

---

A movie that I surprisingly enjoyed, despite being exhausted and, er, dehydrated and the fact that I don't generally like primates? Rise of the Planet of the Apes.

---

I'm getting kicked out of my apartment sometime in the next few months. This isn't a surprise, nor is it a totally unwelcome occurrence. I've lived here for three and a half years and that was the approximate deal. I have loved living here, though. I love my apartment itself. I love that there's a courtyard with a hot tub that I can use to coax guests to come visit me. I love that I have a parking spot. I love that I never have to buy boxes because the cardboard recycling dumpster downstairs is usually full of them. This will come in handy for moving, methinks. Hopefully I will have a job before I move, but if not then maybe I'll take my sister's advice and move closer to her. I have an interview on Friday, though. Shhhh, don't jinx it.

---

The coming weeks will be satisfyingly Christmassy; full of buying toys for the tots, Christmas shopping, Holiday Tea with my mom, and Daniel's Christmas party. And I basically invited myself to see the Nutcracker with a friend of a friend. I plan to drink champagne at intermission, to help conversation flow a bit more freely and because I love champagne.
Oh, and I also went to Amber's Ugly Sweater Christmas Party last weekend.

The sweater I'm wearing is actually a sweatSHIRT. That someone intricately puff-painted and then... cut the sleeves off? For some reason?

estate sale birthday gifty

2011-12-08T08:00:00.000-08:00

My niece, Princess's birthday is rather close to Christmas. When everyone was home for Thanksgiving she handed out her bday/xmas list:

The fact that she wrote "No Broken Bones" is appropriate because she has spent many a holiday in a cast, having broken one arm twice and the other three times. I initially thought "Lite Sprite" just meant Diet Sprite which, great! Easy! You want one case or three? But, no, actually it's a gimmickey toy with a very attractive commercial, apparently. I actually got into a rather heated discussion with my relatives about what "Password Journal" was referring to. THEY thought that it meant a journal where you keep all your passwords. *I* thought it meant a journal that you couldn't access unless you had the password. I feel like there's an obvious winner of that debate, but we never did confirm with Princess.

My favorite part of the list (aside from the fact that she hand wrote copies for everybody and laminated it with tape) is the note "[Princess] will enjoy any gift, even if it is not on the list. I LOVE YOU." Awwww. Hopefully she'll enjoy my present-- I bought it at an estate sale a couple weeks ago. I had been wanting to go to an estate sale for ages but I had a hard time finding listings for ones that were NOT full of priceless antiques or fine Victorian furniture. But then I looked on, duh, Craigslist (you just go to the 'items for sale' section and type in "estate sale" into the search bar). I was nervous to go to the estate sale, because it is at somebody's HOUSE and that makes me anxious, but it was actually fun. There were tons of other people there so I didn't feel weird about rifling through this lady's possessions. Plus, it was neat to get a feel for the person who had lived in the home and owned the things. I felt like maybe she would have been happy to know that her items were going to people who wanted and enjoyed them.

Anyhow, I bought this for my niece:

It's a little basketty purse thing, with an adorable strawberry design.

And it has a red checkered interior.

(I also got her those socks; she loves long socks.)

I'm pretty sure she'll enjoy it, even though it wasn't on the list.

Christmas Cheer

2011-12-07T18:00:00.000-08:00

LOOK WHAT I BOUGHT TODAY!

Sorry for shouting. BUT I AM EXCITED! A Christmas tree! Of my very own!
I went to work today (I've been doing observations/data collection in a nursing home for the past couple weeks, as a nurse researcher on a short term project) and I learned that we're finishing up on Friday but they're going to pay us for an extra eight hours since we have been so awesome and efficient. And THEN I figured that if I bought a Christmas tree at the Delancey Street Foundation lot then I would be giving my money to an organization that does good work and that I like and support. So then, as I was driving home, I happened to pass by one of the lots and I impulse bought a tree!

Except that the lot wasn't on my way home and I had to leave and hit the ATM really quick because I hadn't realized that they didn't take credit cards. So I suppose it was premeditated Christmas tree buying after all.

When I got home, I manhandled the tree into my house all by me onesie, and then got out my storage bin of Christmas decorations.

I trimmed the tree.

I don't have a star yet, so the sparkly peace sign is substituting for the time being. Those bells are camel bells my parents brought from their trip to Israel last summer. The picture frame has a photo of Bowie in it. And the ballet slippers are a nod to my mom's traditional Christmas tree topper-- a ballerina.

And I set up the rest of the decorations.

Things are looking (and smelling) mighty festive around here. I'm so glad I talked myself into getting a tree. It was totally worth it.

Jewelry Suitcase

2011-12-06T09:30:00.000-08:00

I bought this mini suitcase at the flea market a couple months ago.

For various reasons, I'm telling you about it now! Okay, I'll tell you the reasons, too: I bought it the last time KC and I went to the flea market together, and then we came home and broke up. The next day, finding something to do with my new mini suitcase was the only productive thing I accomplished and so posting about it fell by the wayside. Until now! Isn't it cute? I heart it.

I love the wavy diamond pattern and the diamond mirror.

I never really liked my old jewelry box. It was one that a friend gave me when she was cleaning out her garage. I don't have a photo of it, so you'll have to take my word for it that it was big and clunky and not pretty. But it was functional, so it actually hadn't occurred to me to replace it until I was staring around my apartment, trying to decide which place of honor to bestow upon the mini suitcase. So I emptied it out and put it in the Goodwill pile.

Then, I transferred my baubles and jewels into the suitcase...

... and now it lives atop my bookshelf!

I couldn't neatly pack ALL my jewelry into the suitcase, so I added a supplementary Pyrex dish for my fun, more durable earrings (I already owned the necklace stand). Whaddaya think?

Christmas Shopping: Antiques Faire

2011-12-05T11:00:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I went to the Alameda Antiques Faire to do some Christmas shopping, and I also gave myself permission to buy holiday decoration items if I found any I particularly liked. I have decided not to get a Christmas tree this year, but I still want my home to look festive. Actually, one might say I'm still on the fence about whether or not to get a Christmas tree this year. It would probably be better not to since I shouldn't spend the money, I don't have anybody to help me with the hauling and weaving it through my entryway, and I will probably be spending a big chunk of time at my parents' house which will undoubtedly have a mammoth Christmas tree. I shouldn't get one. Shouldn't. But, man, it was SO GREAT having a Christmas tree last year. It made my apartment look so festive and cheery. Plus, I have a big cardboard box of Christmas gifties and a pile of toys in the corner of my living room which would certainly look less clutter-esque with a Christmas tree to tie the room together. But, no. I shouldn't.

Where was I? Oh, right. The Antiques Faire! For my mom, who loves wee dishes AND blue and white china patterns, I bought this.

It was made by Spode, if you are into dishware and that means anything to you.

I'm realizing it probably looks to be a regular sized gravy boat in the photo, but actually it is very wee!

For my two littlest nieces, I picked up an assortment of knicky knackies.

I gave one girl a Matryoshka doll for her birthday recently and she liked it a lot, so I figured the other girl might like one, too.

I'll probably keep my eye out for some more little animals.

From the $1 bin, I bought some pretty scarves.

I like to use them for wrapping gifts because, at this juncture in my life, buying wrapping paper feels like throwing money away. Plus, I find it easier to store a pile of small, foldable scarves than a tube of paper that will fall over every time I open my closet.

I managed to find a couple things for myself. Oops.

That's a wee little tray ($2), a decorative chicken hangy uppy thing ($4), and an enamel pot/jug of some sort ($25, down from $40). The woman who sold me the enamel... vessel (?) said she thought it was for pouring batter. I think it looks pretty on my stove. I'm going to hang up the chicken in the kitchen, because Kitchen Chicken is fun to say.

I also found THE BEST SKIRT IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD.

It's from the 70s, if you haven't guessed.

The woman who sold it to me made me try it on first, to prove I could fit into it. "I've had SO MANY people want to buy this skirt." I managed to wrestle it on by taking off my own skirt, pulling it over my leggings, and hefting it up to my natural waist.

Yesterday was apparently Rainbow Clothing Day, because I also scored this crocheted sweater thing.

The color came out kind of weird because it's a cell phone picture. I did my best to correct it to as close as the actual sweater colors as possible.

Yes, I'm still rockin the side braid.

I found a holiday wreath!

Do you spy that photo of my mom and me when I was tiny enough to fit in my own Christmas stocking?

I've always liked those fabric wreaths.

This wooden tree was marked $24, but as I was standing there admiring it the owner said all the Christmas stuff was half off. Score. I also bought four Christmassy cups, for holiday decoraty purposes.

On my ever-growing list of things to do I have "Get Xmas box" (that holds my ornaments and other festive decor items (I'll probably need a bigger box after this year)) from the storage cage downstairs. And maybe re-ponder the whole Christmas tree idea one more time.

WANGS

2011-12-02T17:00:00.000-08:00

Let's play a game. It's called Be Honest with Me. The rules are very simple: I ask you a question and you have to be honest with me, okay?
Now, take a look at this photo.

Tell me, what's your first impression? Does this look like a nice girl? Does this look like a fun girl? Does this look like an interesting girl? Or DOES THIS LOOK LIKE A GIRL WHO WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THE PRECISE DIMENSIONS OF YOUR WANG?

Let me back up.

I recently joined one of those online dating sites, because I'm single now and BY GOD I'm going to MINGLE. I'm gonna mingle the hell out of this shit. I'm gonna mingle like it's 1999. Mingle.
Anyhow! I joined the site and so far it has been surprisingly positive experience. It's been a nice little bump for my self esteem, seeing the messages pour in. Most people seem relatively normal.
There are the random weirdish messages like this:

He is very sincere and single.

And this:

You're right! There is no point.

And then there are the exceptionally weird messages.
For some reason I seem to be attracting a disproportionate number of guys want to (a) see naked photos of me, (b) tell me about their tremendous wieners, or (c) both.

I exchanged a couple messages with a dude who seemed normalish, let's call him NewFriend1. He was from out of town but will soon be moving near SF, so he's looking to meet new people around here. Like I said, he SEEMED normal. Until he started instant messaging me.
He first told me a long-winded story about how he's originally from Canada, and lived in New Zealand for awhile, but he likes living in the US now because American women are way better than those in New Zealand, and would I like to know why? He was willing to talk about it, but it was kind of a personal story.
I said sure.

Yeah, he was really reluctant to divulge the 'problem' with New Zealand ladies.

NewFriend1 then proceeded to explain that he feels really self conscious about his shockingly big wiener. It has been really DIFFICULT for him because he'll get to know a girl and like her but then she'll get scared off by the BEAST IN HIS PANTS.
I tried to give him a chance to backpedal, explaining that, hey, this is the internet.

Yeah, I know I spelled accommodate wrong.

NewFriend1 explained again that he thought I was cute and he wanted to get to know me, but this has been such a problem in his life and he just had to get everything out on the table (figuratively speaking) right away, so he doesn't get hurt again. And by the way, he wondered, do I enjoy getting pounded?
Annnnd that was the end of NewFriend1.

Unfortunately, this has not been an isolated incident.
I got message from another dude, let's call him S-Wow.

I wrote back, even I was kinda on the fence, because, well, I'm a sucker for compliments. And I asked him a few questions like where he is from and what he is doing on the dating site, since his profile was pretty much bare.

He answered with this:

I would just like to point out that when S-Wow says 'more' photos, he is referring to more than what I already had on my profile-- I hadn't already SENT him photos or something. Just want that to be clear.
Anyhow, I didn't respond to that message, because I AM NOT INTERESTED IN DISCUSSING FELLATI0 WITH A STRANGER ON THE INTERNET. I feel like that should be obvious, but maybe it's a point I need to add to my guidelines.

Anyhow, I thought my interaction with S-Wow had ended, but a few days later as I was checking the site for new emails, he sent me an instant message.

I thought I made myself clear with "you're messaging the wrong lady." Apparently not.

HE ADMITTED THIS TACTIC DOESN'T ACTUALLY WORK FOR HIM.

I almost felt sorry for the dude when he said that he wanted to do something wild and crazy for the first time in his life. BUT THEN I REMEMBERED HE'S A SLEAZY INTERNET WEIRDO.

He doesn't even HAVE the biggets wang, THANKYOUVERYMUCH.

Men of the internet! Let me make myself VERY CLEAR. Unless I ask you specifically, you can assume I am NOT INTERESTED in knowing the size of you wang. Let's all get on the same page, here, FTLOG.

Thanksgiving Potpourri

2011-11-29T00:00:00.000-08:00

We had two, count 'em, TWO turkey dinners last week. Like, with a whole new turkey and everything for the second go-round. I am very, very full.

---

I slept in the pool house at my parents' place, because all the bedrooms were taken. The downside was that it tends to get rather cold out there, since it's not actually attached to the main house. The upside is that it is quieter and I could sleep in past 6 am, when all the kids got up. The space heater out there is possibly Bowie's favorite thing, ever.

---

The whole family was home and it was lovely. [Insert here something vague about how spending time with my extended family tends to be stressful.] I'll refrain from remarking on the presence of my aunt and uncle, but suffice it to say that after Thanksgiving dinner I had to go midnight Black Friday shopping with my sister in order to UNCLENCH.

---

For the purposes of this next story, let's give my nieces some names so they don't have to go by their ages. I'll call one 10 year old niece Princess, because she put on the best puppet show in the history of the universe. I'll call the other 10 year old niece Lucky, because she just got a new pony. I'll call my 12 year old niece Sassy, because she's at that sassy age and also that's the name she gave her video game horse. The 10 year olds aren't twins, by the by, they're cousins. Are we all following along?
Okay, so. I was in the car with a couple of my nieces, driving them somewhere. They wanted to listen to different music, and I had to explain that almost everything in my car was stolen, so I only had the one CD. The asked lots of questions about the robbery and I answered them. Then, the conversation took a different turn....

Sassy: Where was your car when it got broken into?

Me: Oh, um. It was by KC's house. I was, uh, dropping off some stuff for him. When we were still together... [sarcastic jazz hands].

Sassy: Don't worry. Lucky never liked him anyhow.

Me, laughing: What?!

Princess, piping up from the back seat: Yeah she was the only one at the time, but now we all don't.

Sassy: He was nice to us, but I remember Lucky was always like "I GUESS he's okay."

Me, laughing: Wow.

Princess: He gave me the creeps once, too.

Me: Well. I guess that means I'll have to bring any new dude around you guys so you can tell me what you think before I get too attached to him.

---

You read that right, my 10 year old niece, whom I shall now refer to as Lucky, just got a new pony. A PONY!!! A whole crew of us went out to the barn on Wednesday to check her out and watch Lucky ride her. The barn people were all super nice and brought out four old, fuzzy, Western horses for the rest of the kids to take turns riding around the arena, while the rest of us gazed at Sugar.

If my sister thought she was bringing me along for a fair, level-headed second opinion, she was mistaken. I took one look at the pony and started whining that I wanted one, too.

The vet gave his opinion, the barn people, gave their opinions, my sister hemmed and hawed, and I said helpful things like "She's so pretty!" and "I love her!" and "BUY HER!!!"

There was also a RIDICULOUS pony at the barn. He was like a Corgi-- regular sized body, fat belly, and teeny stubby legs.
For reference, here is a nearly regular-proportioned horse.

And here is the Corgi pony.

!!!!

---

As part of an elaborate scheme to keep the children out of the house so the adults could have thirty seconds of peace and quiet, my parents built a tree house in the back yard. IT IS THE COOLEST THING EVER. The list of reasons to be jealous of my nieces and nephews is getting progressively longer.

---

My sister did my hair in a side braid for Thanksgiving dinner. I have since incorporated it into my limited rotation of hairdos. It makes me feel prepared to represent my district.

Or something.

---

We took the whole crew of kids to see The Muppets on Thanksgiving day. I took them all into Rite Aid beforehand to buy sodies and candy. I tried to crack the whip a little and say, hey, no you guys can't ALL get king sized candies. But that quickly fell to pieces as the line grew longer and we had to make our selections and leave because Grandpa was trying to save 11 other seats by himself. So I bought them whatever they wanted, which turned out to be pretty great. My littlest nieces both chose giant king sized candies, but Princess picked Mentos, Lucky wanted ChapStick, and my tiny nephew chose Tic Tacs.

I've had "Life's a Happy Song" stuck in my head on and off since Thursday. It makes me smile. Because it's true: I've got everything that I need. Right in front of me.

New Header

2011-11-28T16:00:00.000-08:00

Have you noticed my new header? Up yonder, there at the top!
The lovely and talented Miss Jenny made it for me, on a an apparent procrastinatey whim.

Just in case this particular header hasn't convinced you to hire her for all your photoshopping needs, here are some other things she's made for me in the past couple of years:

There's this one, from the time of all the Crazy Ex cell phone shenanigans (when he was calling Verizon and using my SSN to get my phone turned off and trying to set up passwords so I couldn't access my own account).

For awhile I had two phones.

My old header.

And this, because my elbows and I are awesome beyond compare.

Don't touch my scepter. I'm the queen.

And, last but not least, this one.

It was actually the first one she made me. My favorite.

Are you convinced now? I pay her in gossip, but I'm pretty sure she'd also accept paypal, bacon, or anything from Anthropolgie.

Fairy Tale

2011-11-21T14:30:00.000-08:00

My 10 year old niece put on a puppet show this morning.

Niece: [Long winded but properly arced story involving a prince and a princess. The cliffs notes version is that the princess is trapped in a tower and the prince must fight a three-headed dragon in order to rescue her. He rescues her, they fall in love, and get married.]

My mom and me: Yay! [clapping]

Niece: Wait wait, it's not over!

My mom and me: Oh.

Niece: So then the prince and the princess lived in a beautiful castle and the prince went to work every day.

My mom: Well that's good.

Niece: And the princess stayed in the castle. And then one day she had a baby. See? Here it is [holds up tiny doll]. A child of her very own to love.

My mom and me: Awww.

Niece: But then the prince said that he did not like the baby. He didn't like seeing the princess with a baby and he didn't like all the noise the baby made.

Me: Huh.

Niece: So the princess took the baby and moved into her own house. She started working and took care of the baby, too. And she lived happily ever after.

My mom and me: YAY!!! [clapping]

The End.

Guidelines

2011-11-18T16:00:00.000-08:00

Men of the world! I realize that navigating the world of dating can be tricky. There are certain things that I had formerly thought were obvious, but it appears that they are not. So here I am, clarifying a few things, in case you happen to find yourself interested in dating me.

1. If you are enjoying the pleasure of my company, then, by all means, let me know. If you are no longer enjoying my company then, similarly, do let me know. Because that whole 'be mean to her until she doesn't want to see me again' thing you guys do? Sucks. And it doesn't work on me. I WILL NOT take your hints. I tend to take people at their word-- if you TELL me something, I will go by this, even if you are acting the opposite way.

2. If you are divorced, in a relationship, or married, please make this clear upon meeting me. Even if you are separated I would rather know up front.

3. If you have a child or children, please make this clear upon meeting me. If there is a lady out there who is currently pregnant with your child, THAT COUNTS.

4. Please don't proposition me for sex, out of the blue, via text message. And especially don't PERSIST after I say no. That's just creepy. You can't talk me into wanting to sleep with you. I either want to, or I don't.

5. Don't lie. DON'T LIE, MOTHERFUCKER. Don't tell me lies. Don't lie through omission. Don't say what I want to hear because you think the truth will upset me. Just. Don't. Lie.

6. Please don't play games. I dislike games and I'm no good at them. If you say you're going to call me, call me. If you say you like me, don't act weird and aloof. Just be straightforward with me and I'll do the same for you.

Was that helpful? I do hope so. Please keep in mind these handy tips when wooing the lady of your choice, and particularly when considering dating me. Thank you for your kind attention.

Kisses,

Jules

Whateverishly

2011-11-16T17:00:00.000-08:00

Everything's basically super awesome over here, she says, deadpan and sarcastic. The job hunt is progressing nice and whateverishly (thank you, David Sedaris, for that word). I'm still having my ups and downs about being freshly, stingingly, single. But I'm tired of talking about my feelings about the breakup on here, so let's just slide on past that.

Last week was pretty good. On Sunday, my mom and I went to the antiques faire and she bought me a super awesome Christmas present, which I will reveal after I open it at Christmas (yes, I insisted that it be wrapped and placed under the tree, even though I know what it is. What of it?). I bought some cute little glass animal figurines for my niece's birthday. On Tuesday, I flew out to visit my sister, ostensibly to hunt for a job in her 'hood. But then I came down with a nasty cold so I spent much of the week walking around in a nice little cough syrup haze and being treated to lunches by my sister. Now I'm back in SF, enduring a much harsher reality and having to make my own lunches.

---

Have I mentioned that I'm taking a hospice volunteering class? Well, I am. And the day after my breakup I had one of said classes. We had to do this grief experiencing exercise where you write down on notecards everything and everyone that you love in this world and then slowly have them taken away from you. Because THIS IS MY LIFE.

---

Two of my close friends have moved away, I no longer have a boyfriend, one friend is moving soon, and I don't have school anymore so I don't see those people as often. My social life has taken quite a hit. I'm trying, somewhat, to rebuild it, but it is slow going. I tend to collect one friend at a time and hate everyone else, so it's not as if I have a big group of people and dozens of sparkly parties to swan about in.
I have wonderful friends and family members, but they don't all live nearby and right now it would be nice to see everybody more often.

---

Traveling last week was pretty ridiculous. I managed to get on a plane that wouldn't fly, get a ticket for a train that didn't show up, and ride a bus with wet seats and lecherous men.

---

Let's end on a good note, shall we? Today I went to the grocery store and they were selling those pre-bagged containers of food so you could just pay ten bucks and then donate that bag of food to the local food bank. I did that, and then I stopped by Walgreens to buy some more toys for the tots. And then I made tortilla soup, and THEN I signed up to help on a research project (a PAYING (part time, short term) job). I also bought a pomegranate today which is delicious, if challenging, to eat.

cautiously optimistic

2011-11-09T10:45:00.000-08:00

I wanted to write this in a much more eloquent and flowery manner, but I have a cold and my brain is fuzzy and I'm typing on an iPad, so this will have to do.

Through some magical combination of time, giving myself a break, getting rid of KC's stuff, drinkiepies, my wonderful friends, my supportive family, presents and care packages, fun activities, comfort food, music, Twitter, cute boys, retail therapy, venting, running, reading, texting, and codeine cough syrup: I am doing better.

I hope I am not jinxing anything by announcing it here, but I am feeling cautiously optimistic and even, dare I say, a tiny bit excited about the possibilities ahead.

Angry

2011-11-01T20:00:00.000-07:00

Okay! So! Last week I was sad. Weeping, whimpering, and S-A-D sad. I still loved him, still wanted him back, still thought he was the most wonderful and amazing guy ever. I couldn't believe how suddenly he was gone, after being in my arms only days earlier. I'm still sad, of course, still bursting into tears at random intervals. And, yes, still reeling.
But now I am also angry.

I'm angry at myself for not being good enough and for picking the wrong guy, YET AGAIN. I'm also angry at myself because I am such a damn mess right now and this affects me so much and I wish the hurting would stop. I'm angry because here I am 29 and single, which is so not how I wanted my life to be. I'm angry at the situation because why couldn't it have just worked out? And because for fuck's sake can't anything ever go right? OCTOBER IS FIRED. Actually, no, 2011 is fired. Clear out your desk, 2011. I've had enough of you. I'm angry that this happened and that I also don't have a job, am uninsurable, and have one CD to my name because my damn car keeps getting broken into. I'm angry at my apartment for reminding me of him. I'm angry at my phone for being stupid and lame and for not ringing and also for ringing.

Mostly, though, I'm angry at KC.
I'm furious that he broke my heart. I keep thinking in cliches like HOW DARE YOU? and WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?
I'm angry that he hasn't tried to contact me (even though I know that's probably for the best), because it feels like I was easily flung aside and he's just *poof* moved on with his life. A couple people have suggested that maybe he's not contacting me because he knows that would make this harder on me. Well, thinking of him as all calm and rational, trying to 'do what's best' for me ALSO MAKES ME ANGRY.
I'm angry that he had been thinking about breaking up with me apparently for a month (or longer?) while I was in the dark. I am enraged at his timing.
I'm angry because I don't know what happened-- what changed? I had thought he and I loved each other and wanted the same things in life but, no, ha ha, surprise! Now he wants something totally different! Or else he wants those same things, just not with me. What the fuck ever. Make up your mind and grow up.
I'm angry because I loved him and I trusted him, and now I feel betrayed.
I feel stupid and used and misled and weak and sad and ANGRY ANGRY ANGRY.

This week sucks. Tell me a story?

2011-10-27T16:00:00.000-07:00

Oh man. What an awful day. But I guess that's about on par with my week.
After another moderately sleepless night I arrived at 7:30 at an office building downtown to spend the day performing health screenings. (A lot of companies will book screenings or flu clinics or health fairs for their employees through healthcare agencies-- the company tells the agency what sort of even they want and the agency will send the equipment and personnel. I've worked for two years doing this sort of thing. It's convenient because you can be on the schedule as much or as little as you'd like. The pay is kind of crappy, though, and there's no guarantee you'll get as many hours as you'd like.)
Anyhow, my assignment today was terrible. The agency sent the wrong kind of lancets for pricking fingers so it was really difficult to get the right amount of blood so that the screening test would, you know, WORK. And all of the components of the machine I was using were tiny and delicate and hard to see and easy to drop.
Plus, the woman who was supervising me was condescending and awful and acted like everything I did I was a huge inconvenience to her. When I asked her for hand sanitizer she tried to tell me I didn't need it, and then huffed and sighed at me when I pointed out I would be working with blood so, yeah, I think I actually do need it. She brought me some, along with an eyeroll.
And I felt like bursting into tears. Or going home. Or both.

This sucks. Everything sucks. I hate everything. BAH HUMBUG.

Have you ever had your heart broken? Tell me about it?

drowning

2011-10-26T20:00:00.000-07:00

I feel okay sometimes, like I am sort of floating on top of the grief.
And then sometimes I'll have a flash of a memory or find something in the house that reminds me of him and my breath is knocked out of me and I'm just drowning in sadness. Heart-wrenching, aching sadness.

Sadness, because why whyyyyyyyyy? And because oh how it hurrrrrrts. And because he was JUST here. Sunday he was here, and we were together. And now he's not, and we aren't.

And sadness because he doesn't want me. I talked to him on Monday night, foolishly thinking he might give me some impression that he was still reeling, too, or that he still loved me but he just needs a little time. But he was checked out. Distant. Like he had become a different person overnight. He told me to hang in there and that we should work on being friends. And that's when I started to realize that 'I just need to be on my own for awhile' actually means 'I just don't want to be with you.'
He had been thinking about this for awhile before it happened. Weeks? Months? He had been figuring out his feelings and deciding what he needed to do. And so he's had time to process this.

I'm still reeling. Still hurting. Floating sometimes, but still drowning.

I'm gonna find a way to make it, without you

2011-10-25T11:00:00.001-07:00

The song is beautiful. The music video is kind of... nuts. But it does help to envision myself a superhero in that badass purple catsuit.

Heartbroken

2011-10-23T22:35:00.000-07:00

Today. Well. Today sucked.
It started out regular, usual, normal. KC and I went to the flea market and then lunch and then to the cactus store because he loves succulents. And then we came home, took a nap, and hung out for a little bit.
And then we broke up.
I still don't even know how we got from there to here, but basically he says he needs to be on his own for awhile.
Well okay then.

I just don't even know how to handle this.
He's the best guy I've known.
BY FAR the best guy I've dated.
Sure, we've had our issues, but I never really thought that they would result in us not being together.
My apartment is still full of him. His clothes, his hats, his photos. He is right across town but he's a million miles away.
It would almost be easier if he were a jerk. Every other breakup I have had has at least had the silver lining of relief. A feeling of WHEW. GLAD THAT'S OVER. Not this time. I don't want it to be over.
I want to hop in my time machine and wake up and start this day over again and have this not happen. A week ago we had dinner at my parents' house. He gave my nephew a guitar lesson and helped my mom water her garden. Yesterday we drank beer and watched football. Today he told me he can't do this anymore; his heart isn't in it.

I was so broken, so hurt, and so afraid when I met him. I didn't think I could trust again. He helped me heal and showed me what real trust could be. He brought out the best in me. He made me happier than I knew I could be.
He gives the best hugs.

I wish I hadn't been so needy, so sensitive, so jealous, so available, so weepy, so pushy. I wish he could be sure about me, because I'm sure about him. I wish I could be enough for him.

I miss you already, my love. I hope you find what makes you happy.

25 Things

2011-10-21T11:00:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'll play this game. Here are 25 Things that you may or may not know about me:

1. My pillow is named Lumpy. There are four other pillows on my bed. None of them have names.

2. For my middle school graduation the guys wore suits and the girls wore white dresses and all the graduates had to recite a poem. Not together, I mean, individually. You had to write a graduation poem, wait for your turn, and then go up to the podium and read it. I'm sorry, EVERYONE WHO ATTENDED THAT CEREMONY. That's an unreasonable amount of terrible symbolism to have to sit through. I don't remember (or, more accurately, I have blocked out) my poem. I only remember this one guy's that started with "June fifth, it's a beautiful day." It was a freezing cold and foggy day but now every time June fifth rolls around I STILL think "June fifth, it's a beautiful day." And now maybe you will, too.

3. I hate the texture of terra cotta.

4. In first grade I would sometimes get in trouble for playing with my toys inside my desk instead of concentrating on our lessons. There was a boy who sat next to me. I don't remember his name, but I distinctly remember the know-it-all quality of his voice when he would say "Teacher! Julia's playing with her Sharing toys!"

5. I will be forever grateful to my field hockey coach for her zero-tolerance policy on wimpy handshakes. "If I teach you nothing else this summer, every one of you will have a NICE FIRM HANDSHAKE by the end of it." And, BY GOD, we did.

6. My favorite pen is the Pilot EasyTouch fine point.

7. I never knew either of my grandfathers. They both died long before I was born.

8. In sixth grade I switched to a school that had uniforms. You had to wear your uniform except on "free dress days" or special occasion days like Halloween. I remember that Halloween I decided to be a tourist. I went all out-- goofy high up shorts, Hawaiian shirt, binoculars, big camera, travel books, fanny pack. When I tried it on at home I thought it was hilarious. Once I got to school, I realized all the other kids had worn 'cooler' costumes (I don't remember how costumes were deemed cool or not cool, only that mine fell decidedly into the not cool category). I spent the day shedding pieces of the costume. That's pretty much a metaphor for my entire experience at that school.

9. I never order chicken at a nice restaurant. I learned that from my mama.

10. I used to get grossed out by blood. Just thinking about blood going making its regular ho hum journey though the heart, lungs, and body made me start to get queasy. I got over it when I took my EMT class at age 24.

11. In my high school psychology class we had to do that thing where you carry around an egg for a week and pretend it is your baby. I named mine Conrad. It was a girl.

12. Senior year in college my two friends and I lived together in an apartment building with a strict 'no pets' policy. We had two kittens and a lizard.

13. I think Hugh Jackman is hot, but only as Wolverine.

14. I think Eddie Izzard is hot, but only in full makeup.

15. Some dumb things I remember doing as a kid: cutting my thumb because I was SHAVING a bar of soap, jumping off the stair ledge and doing a front flip onto the couch, climbing around on the bookshelves, and asking my mom was it okay with her if I stuck this piece of jagged metal into the electric socket?

16. Speaking of which, I got shocked by an electric socket on my El Salvador trip when I was trying to plug in my dad's laptop (so he could study up on the complicated surgeries he was performing). After I got shocked we still needed to charge our various electronics so we decided to try the other socket in our room. We got into an argument about who would test the next socket. His point: he was the DAD and I was the daughter so it was his job to do things like test electric sockets. My point: I was a nurse and he was the SURGEON-- his hands were far more valuable than mine on this trip. And then I shoved him aside and tested the socket. It didn't shock me.

17. I have a crease line on my nose, commonly known as the allergic salute. KC has one, too. So does my littlest niece.

18. One of the first tattoo ideas I had was a pair of wings on my back. I thought that was a super cool idea but I decided not to do it because (1) I found out it is totally cliche, and (2) it would have bothered me if the wings weren't big enough to support my body weight.

19. I had a radio show in high school. I played a lot of disco.

20. One day in second grade I brought to school this really cool set of erasable crayons that my grandma had given me. I noticed that the eraser had gone missing after recess and I had a feeling that this one mean girl had taken it. I waited until the next recess and I checked inside her desk. THE ERASER WAS THERE. So I took it back and put it in my desk. And then I chickened out and put it back in her desk so she wouldn't notice that it was missing and think I had taken it.

21. I like having long hair, but I hate having hair touch my face, or the back of my neck, or my arms, or my back. Especially when I'm sleeping. When I lie down, I sweep all my hair straight up atop my head so none of it can touch me.

22. I've always loved being read to. Still do, in fact.

23. My favorite year of college was sophomore year.

24. I have rather large and too many teeth for my mouth. My front teeth are big and my adult canine teeth grew in at the top of my gumline, like fangs. It took two sets of braces, 9 tooth extractions (some of baby teeth), a jaw widener contraption that someone had to crank every night, retainers, and lots of hours spent lying on the couch with an ice pack on my face to get this fabulous smile.

25. I'm named after my mom, sorta.

Perceptions

2011-10-14T12:00:00.000-07:00

When I am confused I make this face.

Annnnd I just figured out why people think I'm angry when I'm actually confused. Squinty angry eyes and mouth set in a WHAT BITCH line. But, no. Confused. This is the face of someone actively trying to understand what is going on, what someone said, or what something means. The wheels are turning when this face is on.

I have examples! Three, in fact. They are kind of random in that they are three very different events separated by long periods of time. I don't want you to think that these are the ONLY times I've made my confused face within the past year. No no, I make my confused face on a regular basis-- it is squarely in the rotation of frequent facial expressions. These are just examples of times I've been particularly perplexed by a stranger's apparent perception of me. You'll see what I mean....

1. A year or so ago I was hanging out at the beach with my sister and her family. One of my sister's friends showed up with her own family. My sister introduced us. Her friend said "Oh, oh you're [my sister]'s sister with the tattoos." The italics in that sentence make it look like maybe I'm exaggerating but, really, she did say it like that. Like, OH I've heard about THIS one. And I was confused. Because what... does that mean? I'm her sister with the tattoos, am I? Not her sister with the giant cat? Her sister with the master's degree? Her sister who is tall and has brown hair? Her sister in nursing school? I am defined solely by my tattoos and all that they imply (WHICH IS WHAT EXACTLY?).
Confused face.

2. About a month ago I was at the county fair with Jenny and Gabriel, wandering around that area with booths representing local businesses that were giving away information packets and freebies like pens and stress balls. Gabey wanted to play this spin-the-wheel game at one of the booths. He won a pen. Jenny also won a pen. I won a pencil sharpener. The guy running the booth told me I could trade for something else if I wanted, "Because you don't seem like a girl who uses a lot of pencils." Jenny said he was probably trying to flirt with me but... what the? What was his angle? I don't seem like a girl who uses a lot of pencils because I'm stupid? Because I'm too pretty to do math? Because I'm that confident in my writing that I go straight to pens LIKE A BOSS?
Confused face.

3. A couple days ago was my first day volunteering at a clinic. I shadowed one of the nurses and learned how to triage and discharge the patients. At the end of the shift the woman in charge was introducing me to some of the other volunteers who had arrived after I had already started working. One of the NPs asked me a bunch of questions like where I had gone to school, when I finished, and what my specialty was. Then she asked if I had done the M3PN program and I said that I had. "Oh yeah," she said. "You seem like someone who hasn't worked as an RN before."
Confused. Face.
I seem like someone who hasn't worked as an RN before? WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? And how did I seem like that in the four minutes this woman saw me? Because I was following another nurse around and asking where things were? Because I looked somewhat lost and confused? IT WAS MY FIRST DAY.
How is one supposed to interpret a comment like that? I AM someone who hasn't worked as an RN in a clinic setting before, but would I be carrying myself any differently if I HAD? I keep trying to spin it like she was giving me a compliment. Like maybe I looked out of place in my business casual clothes when most of the other nurses were wearing scrubs or jeans...? I wish I could go back to that moment and ask "What do you mean?" when she made that comment, instead of what I actually did which was say "Okayyy...," make my confused face, and then obsess about it for two days.

Purely for your reference, here is my actual angry face:

Complaints

2011-10-11T10:30:00.000-07:00

Oh, it's complainey day? Well don't mind if I do!

- While I was in school for the past three years I had the school health insurance, which is on a September to September cycle. This means that the people in my program who graduated in June got a nice little buffer of time wherein they could take their certification exams and find jobs and THEN their health insurance ended. My health insurance ended on September 7, the day after I 'technically' graduated. Which means no buffer for me, even though I could really use it since right now I am in the looking-for-a-job-and-studying-for-my-certification-exam stage. Further punishment for failing my Giant Paper Thing the first time, I presume?

- The insurance program for which I applied, that I was willing to pay for, sent me a rejection letter yesterday. I had to CREATE A USER NAME AND PASSWORD just to go on their stupid web site, download the letter, and find out that apparently I have too many preexisting conditions and I have done reprehensible things like GONE TO THE STUDENT HEALTH CENTER WHEN I WAS SICK.

- My toaster seems to have two settings-- barely heat at all and BURN-- and I'm always prepared for the wrong one. Sometimes I jump up every thirty seconds to check on the bagel and usually find that it takes four to five press-downs of the toaster button for the bagel to end up sufficiently golden brown. But when I resolve to SIT HERE DAMMIT until the toaster decides that the bagel is done then I end up with a burned bagel. Woe.

- I bought a new litter box for Bowie at the thrift store. It is much nicer (if 'nice' is indeed a word that can be used in reference to a litter box) than the old one in that it is covered and larger but still fits in the same nook. It results in fewer, ah, messes and spilled litter behind the box that I have to clean up but it also results in a small amount of spilled litter in front of the box, which means I step on it and AHHHH if there is one thing I hate it is encountering granules of cat litter with my bare feet.

- I emailed the company where I have worked seasonally giving flu shots for the past two years to ask about their schedule and when they were going to need me. They said they were sorry but it looks like all the flu clinics are all staffed already, thanks for my interest! So... they just didn't bother to let me know they were planning the schedule? They would rather hire brand new nurses than use one of their experienced employees? Great. I can't even get a job that I am hugely overqualified for, where I have worked for the past two years.

- Generally speaking, when people listen to a story I am telling and say "Oh, well *I* would have...." and then proceed to explain how they would have cuttingly told off the person who was mean to me or found a quick and easy solution to some big problem I am having. Shut up! No you wouldn't have! I don't care, just shut up!

Recent Purchases

2011-10-11T00:00:00.000-07:00

Recent flea marketing excursions have returned many lovely treasures.

I seem to have a container-buying compulsion. But, pretty! Look how pretty!

I could keep any sort of collection of tiny objects in them: buttons, toothpicks, paper clips, uh... jewelry, beads, kitty toys, ummm... other stuff.

This I will admit that I bought purely for aesthetic purposes. I don't intend to spend the time or money getting the clock to actually run because I feel like ticking of any sort would drive me into a Captain Hook-esque frenzy.

You think that's cuckoo? Maybe YOU are the cuckoo one. The clock will be right at least two times per day, ever think of that?

I fished this pot out of a jumble of assorted cooking supplies and also managed to find a lid that fits. I don't think it is the original lid, but that's okay.

It definitely goes with my retro kitchen style.

I thought this little box was cute. And bonus! It has six coasters inside.

For all of my coasting needs.

---

On a completely different note, but still falling into the 'recent purchases' category, I bought some toys today. They're for the tots.

I recognize that Christmas is a long way off, but Swistle gave me a good idea with her spreading-out-gift-card-purchases plan for the holidays. Last year I bought a whole buncha toys all at once, which was fun and I didn't have a whole heck of a lot of other options since it was already so close to Christmas by the time I decided to donate toys. This year, I'm going to try and spread it out better, for ease-on-the-wallet-and-transporting-home purposes. So I started today. The local Walgreenses in San Francisco seem to have this great toy deal every year wherein you buy two toys and then get a third for free, which works out to about $5 per toy. They seem to be pretty good quality, or at least BETTER quality than one might expect for a $5 toy. And SOMEtimes the deal switches to buy one get one free, but if I remember correctly that was a lot closer to Christmas and there was less variety of toys and more people grabbing at them. Today the store was nice and empty, with lots of different toys to choose from and plenty of room for me to stack them in the aisle while I made my decision.

Robbed

2011-10-10T13:30:00.000-07:00

On Friday my car got broken into for the second time this year, because why not?
The last time was in February so I am starting to feel like an old pro at this. I drove straight to the auto glass place and they had the window fixed in a couple of hours. They also kindly piled up the items that were strewn about my car's interior (mostly maps and papers from the glove box) and vacuumed up the broken glass. They also gave me a deal for being a repeat customer. The only real downside of this place is the fact that my old windows were tinted and these guys don't do tinting so now my car is starting to look like an odd patchwork of windows.

Despite the quick fix, this sucks and I'm annoyed, particularly since my car was JUST robbed in February. These robbers got all the stuff that the others left behind-- a bag of clothes, my phone charger, my tire iron, the REST of my CDs, and my Important Things basket. They also took some things that I had just bought but hadn't carried into my apartment yet-- some sodas, kitty litter, and toilet paper. I had thought there was nothing of value left in my car after the last time but now there REALLY isn't. These thieves have been thorough. They yanked out my change drawer and moved the seats around, presumably checking for hidden valuables. They grabbed a box from the front seat and threw it in the trunk, probably after realizing it held nothing but scrap glass (for crafting). It is creepy to think about a stranger being in my car, going through my stuff, and taking what they think is valuable. Jerks.

On the plus side they overlooked my sun shade, my picnic blanket, and my flip flops.

Also? THEY LEFT ME A PRESENT.

That? Is a Wild Turkey glove. I don't know if it was an accident or some kind of insult because you'll notice that the middle finger is cleverly marked "Give 'em the Bird." Were the thieves sloppy? Or are they flipping me off?
Either way, joke's on them because all I've got to do now is find the person with the OTHER GLOVE.
Hello, my name is Superjules. You stole my Important Things Basket. Prepare to die.

Tortilla Soup & Crispy Bits

2011-10-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

I called my sister recently to ask for her recipe for these little crispy bits she makes out of tortillas. Well, I guess you would just call them tortilla chips. But they're extra delicious and crispy and that doesn't seem to capture it entirely. Anyhow the conversation went something like this:
Me: Hey how do you make those tortilla crispy strip thingies?
Her: What?
Me: You know, those crispy tortilla strip things you make with tortilla soup?
Her: Yeah.
Me: How do you make them?
Her: You just... fry them in oil.
Me: But what kind of oil? And for how long? How do I know when--
Her: You just fry them in vegetable oil or canola oil and take them out when they're done. It's really easy.
Me: Okay. Thanks....
Her: Are you making tortilla soup?
Me: No.
Her: WHAT? You have to! It's easy! Do it!
And then she texted me the recipe. And I bought some unfamiliar spices and have since entered a new era of my life full of deliciousness.

So! If you are looking for a yummy, relatively easy, very healthy recipe then... look somewhere else. But if you are looking for a yummy, relatively easy recipe then by all means continue!

Tortilla Soup & Crispy Bits
Ingredients:
onion
cilantro
package of corn tortillas (I usually get a 30-pack)
petite diced tomatoes
chili powder
cumin
cayenne pepper
salt
chicken broth
optional- chicken, rice, spicier things
garnishes- tortilla strips, cheese, sour cream, avocado

Start by putting some rice on to cook, however much you'd like to make. I'm not here to micromanage you. I like to cook 1 and a half cups of rice along with a half cup of quinoa. Also, if you want chicken in your soup now it the time to start that as well-- cook and then shred or dice it.

Chop up an onion and then brown it in your soup pot.

Cut or tear up four corn tortillas and add them along with 1/2 cup of diced cilantro. Cook that for 4 minutes. I don't know why it is 4 minutes; I don't make the rules.

I usually tear or cut up the tortillas smaller than I did in this batch. This one turned out fine, though.

Add 28 oz petite diced tomatoes and bring to a boil.

Yah, sorry, some of these are crappy cell phone photos and some are from my camera. Because these photos are actually from two different times I made this recipe. I figured it was better to be thorough than fancy?

Add some spices:
1 tablespoon chili powder
1 teaspoon cumin
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon salt

I find it easier to measure these into a separate bowl first before I toss them in the pot with the rest of the soup-- less opportunity for the lid to fall off the cayenne pepper bottle and ruin my day.

And 2 things of chicken broth (or 8 cups). If you are using chicken add it now, too. I usually don't.

Simmer for 10 minutes. Done.

You can make your crispy tortilla bits and soup at the same time or separately. Either way, here's whatcha do. Cut up the rest of the corn tortillas from your package (you won't be sorry you used them all, trust me). Fill up a pan with canola oil (or some kind of oil). Heat up the oil. Put the tortilla strips in.

Take them out when they are crispy. Let them drain onto paper or cloth and sprinkle generously with salt.

It's really less of a "sprinkle" of salt and more of a "handful."

I throw a clump of rice in a bowl, then cover it with soup and garnishes. KC does the same, but he usually chops up a spicy pepper and adds that to his.
Really, this soup is more of a vehicle for garnishes, so here's where you want to get out your avocado, sour cream, cheese, and of course your crispy tortilla bits.

That is the photo I took and sent to my sister the first time I made the recipe. Really, my setup looks more like this:

Soup, garnishes, and beverages. I like to dip the tortilla strips into the sour cream and then float them in the soup. Annnnnd now you know why I don't call it healthy.

Potpourri

2011-10-06T10:00:00.000-07:00

I visited my sister recently and she LOVES her new tea set. She keeps it in her kitchen cupboard and uses it every day. It is pretty cute to see her kids pouring milk for breakfast out of a teapot.

Her friend came over while I was there and said "Oh I love your dishes! They look like fine china!" Then she turned a dish over and said "It IS fine china!"

Huh.

---

I got an email from Operati0n Rainb0w over the weekend-- apparently they are already scheduling their missions for next year. I'm hoping to go on one of the trips. If I do it will likely be to either El Salvador again, Ecuador, or the Dominican Republic, depending on when my dad wants to go, when my friend from last time wants to go, and if Operati0n Rainb0w, y'know, wants me back.
If I DO get to go I will bring the following:
- Sharpies
- Earplugs
- Fanny pack
Yes, apparently I have reached the point in my life wherein I wish for a fanny pack. It just would have been so convenient for running around to the patients' rooms carrying pens and meds and my notebook and my stethoscope and my chapstick. I spent so much time and energy searching for some good scrubs that fit okay and had lots of pockets and it turned out to be a waste of time since we only wore scrubs in the ORs. I had only brought scrubs for wearing in the hospital because that was what I had thought that was what I would be wearing, but since I spent most of my time in the patients' rooms and not the OR I ended up needing to wear other clothes. And the only other clothes I had brought were jeans (WAY TOO HOT) or shorts and tee shirts. I was WITHOUT POCKETS; it was tragic. So now if I do end up being able to go on another mission I think I will invest in a fanny pack, along with some of those way-too-expensive fancy traveling clothes that are meant to look nice, not wrinkle, and wick away sweat. And I definitely won't bring jeans.

---

I have been watching Toddlers and Tiaras on my computer. I am disturbed by MANY things in this show, not the least of which is their use of the word "crowning" in reference to the time in the pageant when crowns are awarded.

---

I am currently looking for a job. I am also preparing to take my certification exam, volunteering at a couple of clinics, and doing a hospice volunteer training program. I am getting a little tired of being asked how my job hunt is going. I know the asker always means well and is probably just curious and attempting to engage another human being in conversation, but I have been asked the following things so many times that I'm getting a little ON EDGE.
"Why don't you just get an RN job?"
"It must be easy to find a job since you're a nurse, right?"
And I say, as nicely as possible that yes, I am applying to RN as well as NP jobs and that no, in fact it is NOT easy to find a job just because I am a nurse since I am a nurse without experience.
What I want to say is STOP ASKING, PLEASE! WHEN I GET A JOB I WILL TELL YOU, I ASSURE YOU.

---

Flying kitties!

No cats were harmed in the making of these photos.

El Salvador, part 4- Alegria and Adios

2011-09-30T16:00:00.000-07:00

This is Leila, one of the OR nurses.

"This is the only cutting I do!"

Like everyone who was on the trip she's basically awesome-- super nice and really good at her job and obviously cares a lot about what she does.

Leila is also from El Salvador. She grew up in a little village called Alegria. She left when she was very young and hadn't been back for years. She was the one who knew how to eat the interesting local fruits the Ladies of Pediatrics Association brought us for snacks. She also spoke to the patients and I think talking to her helped them feel calmer before their surgeries. She talked to the local doctors and staff members and they would always get all excited when they heard she was from El Salvador.

Our last day in the hospital was Friday. We did rounds and saw all the patients, the doctors changed some casts, the nurses packed up all the equipment, and I went over the care plans for all the patients with one of the our doctors and one of the local doctors. After this we headed to the bus.

We would be flying out on Saturday afternoon so we had about 24 hours to get some R&R at a little beach hotel near the airport.

But! As a surprise, we stopped in Alegria for lunch on our way.

It is a very sweet little town, apparently the flower capital of El Salvador.

We had lunch.

And checked out the restaurant grounds.

There were lots of flowers and also birds.

Including cages that held one rooster by itself as far as the eye could see (so draw your own conclusions about that).

We only had about 30 minutes to explore the actual town of Alegria so Leila took us on a little mini tour and showed us her old school.

Then we walked down the road...

... to Leila's old house!

She used to live there with her grandmother and her grandmother's sister. "We used to have a bench here out front," Leila told us, "and lots of flowers."

We walked around her neighborhood for awhile. It looked like many of the houses on Leila's old street had been boarded up and there weren't many people around.
On our way back into the main square of town we passed by a little house where some people were sitting out front, including a little old woman. Leila called hello to the people and asked if they had known a woman named Gloria Lopez (her grandmother).
The little old woman sitting on the porch squinted at Leila for a moment, then she jumped to her feet and ran down the steps, crying out "Leila!" She reached Leila and grabbed her arm, holding hands with her, hugging her, "Leila Leila Leila!" She remembered Leila from when she was a little girl; she had been one of her neighbors. Soon the two of them were hugging and crying.

All of us who were watching were crying too.

The woman asked if Leila could stay for a little while but we had to leave. The coordinators wanted us to travel by day, especially since we had a police escort.

El Salvador: Two Thumbs Up

We headed off for the coast, where my dad announced "Drinks are on the docs tonight!"

We only had one day there, one day left in El Salvador, so we wanted to make the most of it. Some of us got up veeery early to watch the sunrise.

But apparently not quite early enough...

Ah well. We still managed to do lots of lounging around and having fun on our last day.

And then we had to go.

I said goodbye to El Salvador.

I said goodbye to the sun and the beach and the heat and the people and the piece of my heart that would stay there.

And I made a wish to be able to go back someday.

El Salvador, part 3- People

2011-09-29T23:45:00.000-07:00

News Flash- The people in El Salvador! They were nice! Shocking, I know.

As I've mentioned, the people on the mission with Operati0n Rainb0w were all volunteers who spent their own money and used their vacation time to come on this trip. They were all incredibly hard working people who were very good at their jobs. The surgeons performed complicated, difficult surgeries and they did it with about half the tools they were used to and they often creatively manipulated the equipment they did have in order to make it work for our particular cases.

That's a lot of plates and pins, yo.

The OR nurses worked side by side with the surgeons, on their feet allllll day lonnnng, handing them equipment, keeping instrument counts (to make sure nothing got left inside the patients), prepping the patients for surgery, getting the cast materials ready, and probably a hundred other things I didn't see.

The anesthesiologists were also in the OR all day long, giving the patients (you guessed it) anesthesia required for surgery. They would also manage some patients' pain with epidurals.

The recovery room nurses took care of the patients after surgery, making sure their vital signs were okay and that they woke up from anesthesia, and then discharging them to their hospital floor.

The physical therapist went around to all the patients post operatively and taught them exercises or how to walk with crutches or a cast shoe.

The translators ran around between everyone, helping the doctors assess patients on clinic day, helping the patients ask questions, telling them not to eat before surgery, going with me up to the floors to see the postop patients and give them discharge instructions, and helping the PT give them exercise instructions.

Notice she's wearing scrubs and a gown? That's because she also had to be in the OR and the preop waiting room. And the recovery room. All the rooms, pretty much.

The medical equipment preparer cleaned and sterilized and re-packaged up the surgical tools over and over again all day long. We used almost exclusively tools that we had brought with us and there was a two hour turnaround time for steam sterilization of equipment, which meant the surgeries had to be scheduled in such a way that all 3 ORs had enough of the proper equipment at the right times.

... Which leads me to the coordinators. One of them was an Operati0n Rainb0w employee and she worked tirelessly to coordinate the whole trip. She worked with the El Salvadorian government to allow us to be there, she coordinated with the hospital to let us use their ORs and their X ray machines, she kept us on schedule and on time and dealt with the hundreds of other things that came up along the way.

She also saw a lot of the postop patients with me, kept a master list of them, and printed out the final copy of instructions that I made with one of the docs.

There was another coordinator who was also an OR nurse so I didn't see her much during the days, but I know that she was in charge of packing all of the equipment we brought-- ALL the tools, the surgical instruments, the drugs, the drapes, the cast materials, the saw, the drill, and on and on and on. Everything was packed into thirty giant duffel bags which were labeled and listed for contents. These two coordinators (plus my dad) also came up with the final OR schedule that allowed the team to perform 42 surgeries in four days. That's... pretty awesome.

But the Operati0n Rainb0w team wasn't the only group of people in the OR area. The El Salvadorian doctors and nurses were there, too. They worked alongside our team, assisting the surgeons, helping coordinate and find equipment, and learning as much as our doctors could teach them. Our being there created lots of extra work for them and they didn't get paid any overtime.

The director of the hospital gave gave us permission to use three ORs and gave us priority use of the surgical sterilizing equipment. The surgical director took on the responsibility of following up with all 42 patients after were were gone.
The Ladies of Pediatrics Association is a group that runs a cafe in San Miguel to donate money to the pediatrics and they volunteered to host us while we were in the hospital. They cooked our lunches at home and brought them to us in the hospital. They made sure our fridge was stocked with water, gatorade, and sodas, and they also brought us snacks like pupusas and pandulces every few hours.

We gave them flowers.

And at the end of the week they threw us a party.

We walked in and thought we were in the wrong room-- it looked like a wedding or something. There was a live band and dancing and lots of speeches and the Ladies of Pediatrics Association gave us all certificates and gifts (El Salvador tee shirts!).
THE MAYOR CAME.

They demonstrated a traditional El Salvadorian dance.

Everyone was so nice to us. So nice and grateful and kind and sincere. I seriously can't find enough words to get this across. I was most amazed by our patients. They were so quiet and stoic and, well, patient. Throughout the day I would go around around to the different rooms and see all the postop patients. I would make sure they knew their care plans and when they would be discharged, that their pain was relatively controlled, and that they had seen PT if they needed to. The patients came from far and wide to see our surgeons. One even rode in on the back of a coffee truck. They never complained. Not when the waited all day long to find out the surgery schedule. Not when they waited all day for surgery. Not when they woke up from surgery in pain, with a giant cast.

There seemed to be no middle ground for their pain. They would be stoic stoic stoic and not complain once until the pain became unbearable and then they would cry. And then they would lay quietly grimacing with tears streaming down their faces until I noticed and offered them medication. They never demanded anything, never even asked. If there was pain medicine they would take it, but if not? They would grit their teeth and wait it out.

When we were leaving everyone thanked us again and again and gave us hugs and took photos with us.

"Will you come back next year?" they asked, "Please?"
"We will try."

El Salvador, part 2- Patients

2011-09-15T13:00:00.000-07:00

Seeing the patients in El Salvador was an intense experience.

There was the three day old baby with a dislocated shoulder.
There was the young man with some kind of growth problem whose radius bone stuck out an inch or so past his humerus in his elbow and his left knee bent the wrong direction.
There was a girl with bone tumors, a girl with bowed legs from Rickets, a baby with club feet, a man with shattered bones in both his legs. These people we could help.
But for every surgery performed I'm sure there were dozens more who needed help. It was completely overwhelming at times.
There were people who needed prosthetic hips or knees, which we didn't have.
There were children who would need surgery in a year or two years instead of right now because their bones needed to grow more.
There was the young girl with little turned in feet who couldn't get an operation because the skin on her feet was too fragile and the risk of infection too great.

We had our big clinic day on Sunday but throughout the week as word spread more people would come and knock on the OR doors or wait in the preop waiting area just for the possibility of being seen. Our schedule was completely booked but the surgeons still managed to find time to see the extra patients. When a worried mother shows up at the OR doors and begs you to look at her child's feet you look at her child's feet, even if you're completely booked and pulling 18 hour days. You just do it.

There was one young girl, about 15 years old, who had surgery on both her legs (for bone tumors). She was in pain and she was also very anxious the first day after surgery so we gave her some Valium and Tylenol with Codeine. The next day she felt better so the PT decided to get her up to walk. She started feeling dizzy so I asked her (with the help of a translator, of course) if she had been drinking water. She said she hadn't. I gestured to her three quarters empty water bottle and encouraged her to drink it. She said okay she would but still looked... doubtful or something. The translator pulled me aside and said "I just realized something-- I think the patients have to pay for their water. She probably doesn't have any more so she's conserving it."
OH MY GOD it it stuff like this that just makes me want to lie down on the ground and weep or start handing out money or SOMETHING I don't know. It was 95 degrees and the patient rooms were 6 to 8 beds with people lying drenched in sweat, fanning their faces and swatting the flies away.
We went downstairs and brought the girl four icy cold bottles of water from our stash in the OR area.

There was a little girl who came to our clinic day wearing a party dress. Her hip joint was frozen. It might look in this photo like she is standing up straight but I can assure you she is not.

Do me a favor, would you? Stand up and bend one hip joint 90 degrees. Now try to walk. It was a little different for this girl because she was a child so her locked bent leg didn't have as far to reach as a full adult leg, but basically she walked with her rear end sticking out and her spine all curved. And a very determined look on her sweet little face. This little girl and her mother had been brought to our clinic by an El Salvadorian missionary who was working to bring people from "very far away" so they could get medical care. I never learned exactly how far they had come, but the little girl had been born on an island somewhere so I suspect it was far.

After the surgery the little girl was put in a cast that went up her whole leg all the way to her waist (a Spica cast, it is called, but I couldn't find a good link). She was discharged from the hospital two days later (after her pain was under control and to make sure she didn't have any surgery complications) and her mother had a lot of questions. I told the mother I would go get the surgeon and he would come talk to her. When I returned with the surgeon, the little girl was wearing another party dress.

Her mother had gotten her dressed up to see the doctor.

There was a little girl who had suffered from Rickets and had bowed femur bones as a result. The surgeons straightened her bones out and put her in casts. When I saw her up in the post op pediatric ward she had tears streaming down her face, she was in so much pain.

It might look like she's smiling in this pic, but she definitely had tears in her eyes.

We found out from the nurses that she had received only Ibuprofen the night before so I gave her a dose of my new best friend, Tylenol with Codeine, then and came back throughout the day for subsequent doses. "Of course she's in pain," my dad told me when I updated him about this patient. "She had major surgery on both femurs. Imagine having a toothache in both your legs."
Oh, I see. MISERY.
Because she was in so much pain, the surgeons came to her room and split her cast (sawed up both sides of her legs and wrapped the casts with bandages so they weren't so tight) and then when she was still in severe pain they took her back to the OR and recasted her. She felt MUCH better after the recasting.

Sitting up and smiling and ready to go home.

We couldn't help everyone but we helped those we could.

That little footsie? Belongs to the girl in the photo below:

She couldn't walk before. And now she will.

El Salvador, part 1

2011-09-14T10:00:00.000-07:00

I'm back! I'm exhausted. I tried to write this post the other day but I came down with a weird post-traveling illness (?) of flu-like symptoms and dizziness which forced me to listlessly lay around my apartment and wish for waffles.
But I'm better now. Just tired, still.

And I have much to tell!
The trip was amazing and wonderful overall and also of course parts of it were rather sad and thought provoking.

But perhaps I should start at the beginning.

I've told you a bit about my dad, but have I mentioned that he is a bone surgeon by trade? He is. And he's really good.

He's also really good. As in, he uses his vacation time to fly to places like Tanzania and Nicaragua and perform surgeries for free there. He signed up for a trip to El Salvador with this organization, Operati0n Rainb0w (you can find them, I just don't want people googling them and getting this blog), and invited me to go with him and work as a nurse. And of course I said yes.

So off we went!

We met up with our group at the airport on Friday night at about 9:30 pm. We all had our various carry on bags and we had to check in as a group since our checked luggage was giant duffel bags loaded with medical supplies-- surgical instruments, medications, bandages, drills, saws, etc. Our flight left at midnight and arrived in San Salvador only two hours after its scheduled arrival because one of the passengers got sick and we had to emergency land in Mexico City and then take off again. Because, of course.
But! We arrived in San Salvador! We had made it!
Except apparently it is very difficult to enter a country with 30 duffel bags full of knives and drugs and we were missing one of the documents we needed. Operati0n Rainb0w is very experienced and organized-- they had been working with the El Salvadorian government for months, but apparently a new rule had just been enacted so we needed some extra document, which we didn't have. Which meant we couldn't leave. So we hung out at the airport for a couple hours.

We finally made it through, had a quick lunch at a nearby hotel (and picked up a couple more members of our team), and then took a two hour bus ride to San Miguel. I was very, very happy to arrive in San Miguel.

We had a late dinner that night and got to know each other a little bit. The team included 26 people. There were 6 surgeons, plus anesthesiologists, operating room nurses, recovery room nurses, a physical therapist, several translators, and a few volunteers without a specific job who were eager to learn (me). Everyone on the trip was incredibly nice, as you might imagine, given that they were all using their vacation time and spending their own money to journey to a foreign land and work for free.

This was the first mission in 5 years to El Salvador (apparently the government wouldn't let Operati0n Rainb0w go there until now because it was too dangerous) and the team planned to spend the week as follows:
Sunday- Clinic. See all the potential patients and decide which ones they could help with surgery and what the rest of the week's schedule would be.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday- Surgeries
Friday- Rounds. Visit all the patients and discuss with the local doctors the plan of care for all of them after we left (when to take the casts off, etc).

Sounds relatively simple, right? WRONG.
Before we arrived we had basically no information about the types of patients they would be seeing, which meant that the people that packed had to pretty much make educated guesses regarding what kind of equipment to bring. They brought a variety of stuff-- saws, drills, wires, screws, pins, plates-- but it was all in a limited amount, of course. Throughout the week I kept hearing stories about how the surgeons had to MacGyver together their equipment in creative ways to make it work. ALSO, we had six surgeons and 3 operating rooms, but there were certain things (like the drill and the saw) that could only be used in one room at a time. This meant that all of the surgeries of the day had to be scheduled so that the room that needed the drill had the drill and the other two rooms didn't need it. It was all sort of a logistical nightmare.

We were up bright and early on Sunday morning to hold our clinic day. This meant that the doctors saw hundreds of patients and had to assess them and decide which ones they could help with surgery and which ones didn't need surgery, or needed some other kind of surgery that they couldn't perform that week, or needed surgery but it would be too dangerous because of potential for infection.
Then, the doctors had a big discussion with the information from all of the potential surgery patients and came up with a schedule for the week.

This took a very long time and of course there were changes to it throughout the week.

Patients came from far and wide to see our team. There were children with bone deformities and club feet, people with growth problems, little old ladies with crippling arthritis, people in home made wheelchairs or hobbling in on the sides of their feet with their joints sticking out this way and that.
People traveled for hours and waited patiently, quietly, all day long just to see if their children might be able to have surgery.

Monday was our first surgery day. This was probably the day I felt most uncomfortable because I really didn't have a role yet. I put on my scrubs but then I just had to kind of wait around a lot of the morning while nurses ran around fetching supplies and the doctors prepped for surgery. I did a couple little paperworkey tasks and then in the afternoon I was able to help out (a little) and observe (mostly) in the OR.


Check out the X Rays above us-- those were the feetsies that were about to be operated on.

Tuesday I was asked to go on rounds with the doctors in the morning (to see the patients they had operated on the previous day) and to try and keep all the patients organized. I ended up mostly doing this for the rest of the week because there was actually a lot that needed to happen-- patients needed to know their care plans, some were in severe pain and needed stronger meds than the hospital had, the PT had to go see some of them and teach them range of motion exercises or how to use crutches, we needed blood tests or X rays for some patients, we needed traction for one, we needed a bed for another and on and on and on. I felt like I was kind of inventing my role at times and I wondered if I was being helpful but it really seemed like it should be somebody's job to coordinate all of these things and keeping all the post op patient care organized, especially since most of our team was in the OR all day. So I had my own little mini-team and we would go on a series of rounds all day long, checking on the (42 total) post op patients and tying up the various ends that came loose. It felt very nurse practitioney and I loved it.

Do you see those beautiful smiles? Totally worth the trip.

Part 2 forthcoming.

Packed and Ready

2011-09-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

Or maybe just packed.

I'm leaving tonight for El Salvador. It feels pretty surreal right now since I still haven't heard a whole lot about what to expect or even what the schedule will be. We're arriving early in the morning tomorrow so I'm assuming that either means we will have the day off to rest or we'll be driven straight to the hospital from the airport.
Really I just wanted to post this photo since it represents the lightest I have ever packed. Ten days, one backpack and a pursey thing. All of my toiletries are in tiny 3 ounce bottles. Everything is freezerbagged. My shorts are doubling as pajamas. I have three shirts, one pair of flip flops, a Spanish dictionary, and a plastic bag to wrap over myself in case it rains. I'm so ready. Ish. Or, y'know, not at all.

Candied Maple Walnuts

2011-09-02T09:15:00.000-07:00

This is a recipe that my mom taught me that she adapted from... somewhere else I'm assuming. Magazine? Cookbook? No idea. But she taught it to me a couple years ago because she thought I needed a thing I could always whip up for parties or give as little gifties. So now I do just that. It is a very easy recipe, which is why I am sharing it and also why I'm a tad reluctant to share it. Because either people are faking their enthusiasm or they find these VERY YUMMY and tend to be surprised that I made them. "You made these?" they ask. "HOW?" And I hem and haw and 'oh it's a family recipe' them and eventually admit it is almost shamefully easy.

Assemble your ingredients.

1. Walnuts
2. Maple syrup
3. Cooking oil or butter

Preheat the oven to 300 degrees.

Put walnuts in a bowl.

Pour in some maple syrup. The original recipe called for 2 tablespoons, to which I say HA.

I use a lot of maple syrup. I don't measure it, I just pour it until it looks like all the walnuts are nicely coated.

In this photo you can kind of get an idea of how MUCH syrup I use since you can see it pooling over there on the right.

Cover a cookie sheet with aluminum foil. DO NOT SKIP THIS STEP; you will be sorry.
I used to use butter to grease the aluminum foil, but recently I made a batch for a friend who is dairy allergic so I tried canola oil and I found it was easier to work with. So pour a little canola oil on the tin foil and swish it around with your fingers until it is coated.
Then dump the walnuts onto the cookie sheet and let the excess maple syrup drip onto them.

Bake at 300 for 20-25 minutes, or until they look kind of like this:

Scoop the walnuts into a bowl and let them cool. You can let them cool on the cookie sheet if you want, but then you'll have to pry them off the aluminum foil and sometimes they get really stuck.
PSA: The maple syrup rinses off the aluminum foil really easily with a little soapy water, so when you're done with it you can toss it in the recycle bin.

After the walnuts cool you can package them up nicely and give them as gifts! Or eat them!

I've also successfully used this recipe with cashews (because KC doesn't like walnuts), so presumably it works with other nut varieties.
Also, sometimes I add a pinch of salt either before or after I bake the walnuts (but I usually forget).

Ta da! Candied Maple Walnuts!

Tea for Two

2011-09-01T14:30:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago my sister told me that as long as I'm poking around at thrift stores and flea markets I might as well look for a tea set for her. She'd been wanting a tea set, she told me, the real china kind.
"I think it would be fun for serving tea when my friends come over."
"Oh, do you serve tea when your friends come over?"
"No... but if I had a tea set I might!"
She explained that she was looking to spend somewhere in the under twenty dollar range. She'd like a nice, grown up lady tea set with a cream pitcher, sugar bowl, teapot, teacups, and saucers. Basically, the works... for under twenty dollars.

CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.

So I've been keeping an eye out for tea serving accessories at various flea markets and thrift stores. I found standalone teapots and teapots with matching cream pitchers and sugar bowls. I found dishware sets with teacups and saucers. But I did not find a tea set with all of the elements present.
I talked to my sister again and she clarified that she wanted a teapot, cream pitcher, sugar bowl, and teacups but they did not all have to match. I could buy the different parts of the tea set separately. My GOAL was still to find a whole complete tea set, but I realized this might not be possible, especially under twenty dollars. Most of the dishware sets I had seen with teacups and saucers (with or without cream pitchers and sugar bowls) were in the FIFTY dollars and up range because they were whole sets with bigger plates and meant to be used as one's fancy dishes. Plus, the prettier they were, the more expensive they were.

I found this at a thrift store last weekend.

I was about to buy it but then I noticed that the teapot was chipped. Plus, ehh, it just wasn't quite what I was looking for.

And then, AND THEN I went back to the Barn Sale on Sunday. KC and I came away with a ridiculous amount of stuff. He selected a trunk (for his linens), a bunch of planters (for his plants) and children's books (for his nephews) while I chose some little knickey knackies for my nieces and nephew (party favors for my sister's birthday) and yet another pretty canister to feed my pretty canister habit. They also had a section of 'fill a box for five bucks' which yielded some... very interesting finds.
And then I came across some cardboard boxes on the ground that appeared to contain dish sets-- dish sets with pretty little teacups, saucers, and cream pitchers and sugar bowls. I asked the lady how much they were and snapped up the cheapest one.

The set I bought included a cream pitcher, a sugar bowl, and EIGHT teacups and saucers. It also came with some bowls and larger plates. The set is Mikasa brand and everything appears to be in good condition (no chips or cracks), and it is a pretty pink flowery pattern. And the price? Fifteen dollars. WHICH IS BASICALLY A SONG.

Wanna see?

Pretty!

Those blue plates in the back aren't part of the set-- they're my mom's plates.

The set didn't include a teapot, but I knew I wouldn't find such a screaming deal anywhere else. And I figured I could find a teapot that was sort of matchy or at least coordinated somewhere.
Annnnd I just happened to find myself at Out of the Closet the other day (in search of a battery operated alarm clock and a sweatshirt) and I found a little teapot for two dollars and fifty cents.

I haven't actually seen the teapot and the rest of the set together since I left the Mikasa dishes at my parents' house for when my sister comes by, but I think it coordinates nicely.

This was a fun little project-- I like having a goal when I go to thrift stores and flea markets and I like buying things for other people that they like. Also, it seems that when the shopping goal is for someone else I am more patient and less irritable. When I'm searching for something for ME it can get a tad annoying because where the hell are all the handkerchiefs and why does the universe haaaate meeeeeee?

Total price- $17.50.
Tea Set Challenge- SUCCESS.

Potpourri

2011-08-24T10:00:00.000-07:00

If you are ever at Target in search of ice cube trays, let me help you out: they're over on the other side of the store by the food storage things, NOT by the rest of the kitchen stuff.
Semi related: if you are ever in need of a jar opener for all your jar opening needs, what you are looking for is a CANNING jar opener.

---

I give a monthly donation to Greenpeace, just a small amount that I set up as an automated payment through their web site. I like that it is a monthly smaller donation rather than a LARGE feeling-guilty donation because that's easier for my budget to handle. Anyhow, so now I'm on Greenpeace's email list. I'd like to be able to unsubscribe because them emailing me about whatever iceberg-melting, rainforest-burning, whale-killing horror is happening right now only stresses me out and I'm still going to give them the exact same amount of money as I do every other month. But apparently to unsubscribe, first I have to go to the web site and 'manage my account' which means that first I have to 'create an account' so I ended up just flagging the emails as spam. Sorry Greenpeace, I still support you both in values and financially but I can only handle so much unrequested communication.

---

KC, while replacing one of my annoyingly tricky and hard to find lightbulbs, "Who was it that said 'let there be light'?"

---

Last week I received an email alert from my school about a job opportunity. Sometimes hospitals, clinics, or recruiters send these out to the school so that the school can forward them to the appropriate group of students. I emailed the contact person and he called me back within the hour. The job sounded really great and they sounded interested in me, even after I explained that because the quarter ends in September I won't have my NP license until October at the earliest. He told me to email my resume and an explanation of my timeline and that he would call me the next day to set up an interview next week (which is now this week). So I emailed my resume and a cover letter that explained my timeline and I included some information from the BRN about the application process for getting my prescribing (furnishing) license to illustrate that aspect of my timeline. I tried not to get my hopes up, but I started daydreaming about what it might be like to work in that clinic and how cool it would be to move into a bigger apartment near the site and what should I wear to the interview?
And then... nothing. I didn't hear anything the next day, which was Friday. I waited until yesterday (Tuesday) and I called. Weirdly, I got one of those automated voicemails "The party you are trying to reach is unavailable, please leave a message," so apparently the guy had called me from his cell phone?
Also, the email address was the guy's personal email, not a company email.
Also, the clinic doesn't have a web site.
I'm starting to wonder if this was a real job at all.

---

I slept in Jenny's bed on Friday night. And now I know EXACTLY how KC feels about his guitar. My bed sucks.

---

My parents got me a Kindle for my birthday. It was a very nicely coordinated gift-- they got me the Kindle and my sisters got me a Kindle cover and some Amazon gift cards. I LOVE IT. I can't believe how pleasant it has made taking public trans. It's like boarding muni with a STACK of books and I just zone out with my stories and let myself get taken to a dream world of magic.
I'm a little disappointed they don't have the Babysitters Club books for Kindle because that's pretty much my fave guilty pleasure reading and then I could read them in public (instead of just at my parents' house, where my mom politely pretends she doesn't notice) because NO ONE WOULD HAVE TO KNOW. Get on that, Amazon.

Drawer Zen

2011-08-23T08:00:00.000-07:00

I had a coupon for the thrift store yesterday. If I spent $10 or more then I got $5 off. After picking out my new old scrub tops I decided to get a couple more things and of course my total rang up to $7. Because I'm good at math (actually I hadn't accounted for the fact that some of the items I was buying were on sale... which I guess makes it still a math error).

I picked out some pillowcases and a little zippy pouch that will be good for carrying... oh I don't know bandaids or hand sanitizer or something else I'm supposed to bring to El Salvador.

I also bought this little drawer organizey thing. I thought it might be the right size for one of my kitchen drawers and even if it didn't fit, well, it was only seventy cents so what did I have to lose?

This is the drawer in question:

Eek. Not very Zen.

And here it is now:

In the back of the drawer are my membership cards for a couple casinos in Vegas (someone please remind me where those are the next time I'm packing for a trip there), some knives used to open parcels, and Bowie's leash and extra collars. On the side of the drawer is a map of my fair city.
I moved my cloth napkins to a cabinet and used the plastic organizey thing to make this more of a junk drawer-- a catchall for all those annoying little things that clutter up space but that I would be irritated if I just threw them all out. Because what if I found myself suddenly in need of a birthday candle or a rubber band or a chair scoochy pad or an entire roll of tokens for the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk? WHAT THEN?

Scrubs

2011-08-22T23:00:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned that I'm going to El Salvador in two weeks? No? That's because I keep forgetting. I'm going with a group that takes medical professionals to Central and South America to perform surgeries and provide medical care. I'm not sure exactly what I'll be doing; they said to be prepared to step outside my typical role and help with whatever they need.
I'm excited.
I'm terrified.
I keep forgetting about the trip because I haven't heard very much from the organization-- apparently they do a LOT of these types of excursions so they're tied up planning and focusing on one of the trips happening right NOW. So I haven't gotten a whole lot of info. I'll only be gone a week, so I'm not freaking out too much, though the lack of information has thrown me a little. I learned last week that I'm to bring all of my personal things in a carry on bag; my checked bag will be filled with medical supplies. That's fine, of course. I mean, I shouldn't need that much crap for a weeklong trip, most of which I'll be spending inside a hospital. But that's the kind of thing that might be good to let people know ahead of time, just in case there are any heavy packers (me) in the group.

I also learned I was going to need 3 sets of scrubs. Why do scrubs have to be so universally unflattering, may I ask? And by 'universally unflattering' I don't mean 'they look bad on everyone.' What I mean is 'ALL scrubs look bad on ME.' Which is probably an incorrect usage of the term 'universally.'
I really haven't worn scrubs very much since the first year of my program (the RN part). I've gotten away with business casual plus a lab coat for most of my clinicals and job opportunities since then. But when I do wear scrubs I've found that I tend to like the tops with maximum pockets. Seriously, the more pockets, the better. Just show me how many pockets you can sew onto a scrub top and I will wear the hell out of that sucker. The pants, though. The PANTS. They're either too short or too tight or too bunchy or have longcrotch syndrome.

I actually did once own three sets of scrubs but they were from the first year of my program and the tradition is that you pass on your scrubs to the next class of students. I hung onto one set, just in case.

But, ugh, after wearing it to clinicals that whole year just looking at it makes me feel a tad nauseous. All the days of waking up at 4 am to drive to my clinical site, the back-to-back 12 hr days, the fear of doing something wrong, the feeling I wasn't EVER going to get it. Shudder.
Would you like to see what I looked like on my very first day? Here's a photo of my clinical group (that I spent entirely too much time editing on Picnik because my fellow classmates might not necessarily want their photos up on here).

That was our VERY FIRST DAY of the RN program! We didn't know how to give meds, how how to listen to the lungs, how to insert catheters, or even how to make BEDS yet. But we sure did have some big, tense smiles!

So I still do have one set of those green and khaki scrubs, though I'd prefer not to wear that combo. Today I went to the thrift store to see if I could find some gently used scrubs. Because scrub sets aren't exactly free. Not that they would be, of course, but sometimes I feel like if they're going to be so unflattering at least they should be cheap. I did manage to score two scrub tops for a total of $3.50.

Many pockets.

And then I went to an actual medical uniform store in search of some acceptable scrub pants. These ones were okayish, and they were on sale for $10 each.

So now I'm basically ready to go! All I have to do now is learn medical Spanish.

Superjules, NP

2011-08-18T11:30:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was good. I had lunch, cocktails, and retail therapy with Jenny (and Gabriel (he didn't have any cocktails but he did get some new Legos)). Jenny talked me into buying a pretty dress and she bought a business suit for her fancy new grownup career. And then I came home and found a care package from Doing My Best which included yummy brownies AND a sweet little unicorn figurine.

And THEN I opened my email and found this:

I passed my Giant Paper Thing.
I am actually, finally, officially DONE.

Basically I rule at DIY.

2011-08-16T19:00:00.000-07:00

Due to certain events this weekend I decided I wanted to have a nice little project with which to distract myself. I have been pining for some spice rack shelves ever since I first saw them. I figured I probably shouldn't get some for my apartment because there isn't a whole lot of wall space left, what with all my flea market treasures, and I also don't want things to be too cluttered.

But then I had a idea!

I'm kind of embarrassed to post this photo because it illustrates the fact that I've been living with my stupid five dollar Target mirror for far too long. It has a bunch of sticky tabs on the back from way back several years ago when I tried to adhere it to the wall of my apartment in LA. That worked for about ten seconds before it came crashing down, so then I just leaned the mirror against the wall. Looking at yourself in a mirror leaning against the wall has two main problems: (1) it's a bad angle and (2) you can't see your topmost regions. So when I wanted to use my full length mirror for its intended purpose I would pick it up and balance it on the freezer door or on a chair. Oy.
I decided that it was HIGH TIME for a new mirror solution which would simultaneously free up some wall space in my bedroom nook for some spice rack shelves!
Time for a field trip to IKEA.

Step 1: New Mirror

I got the Bonett mirror from IKEA ($20) because it was the skinniest one I could find. It is now affixed to the tiny bit of wall space behind the bathroom door. Notice how you can see my FULL LENGTH in the photo?

Step 2: Spice Rack Shelves

I bought 3 spice racks at IKEA for $3.99 each. And this is the part where again I wonder why I tell you everything because you're just going to make fun of me.
I've recently started reading some blogs about improving one's home and organizing. And actually, that was where I first saw the idea of spice rack bookshelves come to life. My execution of it did not go quite as smoothly.
The people on those blogs are always building things and spackling things and painting things and rewiring things, and going on and on about how they and find great old crap at the Goodwill and give it a coat of paint and a new life and DIY is so easy and cheap, just try it! So I thought I would try it. These people particularly seem to do a lot of spray painting, so I thought I would give that a shot. I bought a can of burgundy paint and I had planned to do my painting while I was at my parents' house on Sunday, somewhere in their huge back yard, but then I didn't end up having time. So here I was in my apartment with my spice racks and a can of paint and a nice bare wall and ooooh I was just itching to have them up and done.

So I made a trip down to the basement for scrap cardboard and put down a layer of it on my bathroom floor. Then I started painting (I could only handle doing two of them at once).

Do you like how I cleverly arranged the cardboard in a nest like configuration to protect the bathroom?

I left them in there to dry for awhile (and to allow the fumes to be pumped out the bathroom vents).
Look how great they turned out!

(That's not my address on the box, not even close).

I was quite pleased with myself. I DIY-ed the hell out of those spice racks. And it was easy peasy! No muss, no--
SHIT SHIT SHIT.

What the hell is that? Oh, it's paint. PAINT ALL OVER THE FLOOR.

Apparently, APPARENTLY, I hadn't noticed that while I was working, tiny particles of spray paint were floating down all around me. The floor that I had covered with the cardboard was fine, but the rest was pink.
Yeah, this is why people don't use spray paint indoors. I'm an idiot. WITH A PINK FLOOR.
Although, in my defense, one of the lightbulbs in my bathroom is burnt out so it was rather dim in there and I couldn't really tell that there was so much paint on the floor until after I had moved the boxes. But I guess one could argue that maybe I shouldn't have been painting in a dim bathroom in the first place....

So I stared at the mess for a moment, feeling panicky, and then I halfheartedly opened a bottle of nail polish remover and tipped a little of it onto the floor. OH! It worked! So then I busted out the all natural cleaning spray and some rags went to work on the floor. And that worked too! The paint was actually pretty easy to remove from the floor. But I've learned my lesson: spray painting is for doing outside. After I had used my hippy natural cleaning spray on the whole floor I dumped out some more nail polish remover over the floor, too. Just for good measure. Because the thing my bathroom needed most was certainly MORE harsh, smelly chemicals.

After the shelves had completely dried, I put them together.

Okay, they really do look good, don't they? The color is nice, the paint job looks fairly even, the bathroom isn't ruined. Let's call it a success!

Oh, COME ON!

Table

2011-08-13T23:00:00.000-07:00

Let's talk about something else, shall we? How about that flea market table I mentioned?

This is my old nightstand.

Hmmm. Not very Zen, is it?
The table itself was fine. It was small enough to work as a nightstand in my wee bedroom nook, it was stable and okay to look at, and it was free (I found it on the street near my house). The problem was that it tended to get cluttered pretty easily with books and whatnot. Plus, I received two Snuggies for Christmas this year and I didn't know where to put them because they fold kind of awkwardly what with the sleeves and all. I tried them as couch throw-blankets but it was too haphazard looking so I just bunched them up and stuck them on the bottom shelf of the nightstand. No, not very Zen at all.

A couple weeks ago at the Treasure Island Flea I found this table.

I thought it was so neat-- it's like a magazine-rack table!
The lighting looks a little weird in that photo but I was so excited to put my new table in its new spot that I didn't bother to try and take a better one. It was originally $30 but the guy let me have it for $25.

And here it is as the new nightstand.

I feel like it actually looks a little odd there because it is significantly taller than the bed, but I also think it looks better than the old one since it is less cluttered. I particularly enjoy having a special area for my current books.
The Snuggies live in a cabinet now.

Dating me is not easy.

2011-08-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

I have a couple new posts in the queue. (Wait. Seriously? That's how you spell queue? How awesome and ridiculous all at the same time.)
Starting over: I have couple new posts in the queue, one about my weekend trip to Vegas and one about my new table from the flea market, but both of those are on hold for right now because last night KC told me that his ex girlfriend is coming to town this weekend and he wants to hang out with her. So the presses have been stopped in order to deal with this breaking news item.

KC wants to spend time with his ex this weekend. And. Um. I just... ugh. Ack.

It that makes me anxious and tense.

It bothers me that he's going to hang out with her, but not in the way you might think.
Despite having screwed over in the past so very much, I actually really do trust KC. He has never given off a shady vibe or made me feel suspicious. He always answers the phone when I call; he's never weirdly unavailable or secretive. He'll leave his facebook page or email signed in on my computer and I feel zero urge to go through it. And if I ever DO have an odd feeling about something he is more than willing to talk to me about it. Also, to KC's credit, he talked to me before hanging out with her, and even waited to talk to me in person about it instead of over the phone. He didn't secretly go spend time with her and tell me about it later or not at all, unlike some people.

I just want to make it very clear that I trust KC so that isn't what the issue is here.
The issue is me and my own insecurities and jealous tendencies. It's something I have written about before, something I hate about myself.

I think that part of the problem is actually MY ex, the crazy one. It's easy to blame things on him because that relationship was such a cacophony of fuckeduppedness, but in this case I feel like it's really true-- I can look back to the time BC (Before Crazy) and see how I've changed.
Basically, what Crazy Ex did was a lot of emotional manipulation, part of which included making me feel competitive and insecure about his ex (are you following?). He didn't want us to get along, probably because he didn't want her to ever take me aside and say "Hey, Jules, this guy is bad news and p.s. I'm MARRIED TO HIM."*
*No, I didn't know that until after Crazy Ex and I had broken up and they were also divorced by then. I didn't know that they had ever been married. You'd think someone in his life might have mentioned that to me during the two years I was with him.

Maybe you will want to tell me that, pshh, it isn't a big deal to not get along with your partner's ex. And that's true, they're exes for a reason and there can be a lot of complicated history and hurt feelings and why on earth would you LIKE someone who dated your boyfriend before you?
But, you see, when you are in a relationship with an emotionally abusive sociopath the regular rules are out the window because you aren't dealing with someone with normal human emotions and tendencies. It wasn't just that I didn't get along with Crazy Ex's ex girlfriend (wife). No no, Crazy Ex purposely manufactured tension between his ex and me, so that we would never get along and that he could get exactly what he wanted out of both relationships. If he hadn't done this, I might not have been her best friend but I don't think I would have felt nauseous and panicky every time I saw her. Just like all the other ways he emotionally abused me, this started slowly (a word here, an old photo there) but eventually wore me down. It got to the point where he would openly compare me to her and and list the ways in which she was better. I got to the point where I felt like I could never measure up, that our relationship would never measure up to what theirs had been.

So. With all of that as backstory, let's go back to the issue at hand. KC wants to hang out with his ex.
When KC first moved to the Bay Area it was with this girl. She was moving here so he basically followed her. And then after a year(ish?) in SF he followed her up to Marin County when she wanted to move there. And then she cheated on him, broke up with him, and left him with a 2 bedroom house he couldn't afford and a lease he couldn't break. And two cats.
So one issue is that I have trouble understanding why KC would even WANT to be friends with someone who so royally screwed him over, but then again being friends with your ex is already a difficult concept for me to grasp.
And my other issue is that, as you can see, she was a BIG part of his life. He was very committed to that relationship and, according to his friends, devastated when it was over. When I'm in the mood to drive myself insane with obsessive thought-circles I do things like wonder if KC will ever be as committed to me as he clearly was to her, or if I'll ever be as important to him as she was, or if he loves me as much as he loved her.

I KNOW that logically I should just chill the hell out and not let it bother me-- I trust KC and if he wants to hang out with his ex then fine, whatever, have a good time.
I KNOW that KC is totally different from my Crazy Ex and that it probably doesn't even occur to him to, like, compare his relationship with me to his relationship with her. To him, letting her come over and see the cats is just letting her come over and see the cats. To me and my insane thought processes, it's them reminiscing about the life they once shared.

Logically, I know it should not be a big deal and that I should hold my head high and just get over it but logic doesn't take away my anxiety.

If you have any words to share that might help me get through this weekend, I'd be very appreciative. I DO have a therapist which is very helpful for when I want to explore my thoughts and feelings. But here I know what my thoughts and feelings are, I know where they originate and why they are so bothersome, but I don't know what to do when they come up. Go shopping? Repeat a nice, positive phrase over and over in my head? Do something productive so I feel accomplished?
You've gotta give me some ideas because weeping in the shower just isn't cutting it.

___
EDIT TO ADD: I'd like to thank everyone who commented or who separately gave me words of advice or sympathy about this. I think sometimes I overanalyze myself and tend to think I'm reacting to something because of my previous relationships-- I'm messed up because of this or I'm extra sensitive because of that. I was beating myself up over this situation, but I came to realize that my reaction to it wasn't bad or wrong. It is okay that I'm not comfortable with this, even if KC doesn't understand, because my feelings actually matter.

New Glasses!

2011-08-08T18:00:00.000-07:00

For my birthday, my mom said she would by me some new glasses. The unspoken part of that sentence was more like she would buy me some new glasses if I would just finally go see the eye doctor like she'd been reminding me to do, for pete's sake. She's right of course, scary things like macular degeneration and other eye-related issues do run in my family AND at my recent license renewal appointment at the DMV the lady told me to read part of the eye chart without my glasses so I took them off and then I had to ask her where the eye chart was. She just shook her head and checked the 'must wear corrective lenses' box on my form. So, yeah, time for an eye appointment and some new glasses.
After jumping through a seemingly endless series of hoops trying to coordinate my student health insurance with someone who would take it, I went to the eye doctor.
And I got new glasses!

Don't you love them? Aren't they so much better than my old ones?

What's that? You don't see a difference? Come on, look again!

New Glasses

Old Glasses

Okay, fine. They're pretty much exactly the same as my old ones. Except they have fun green tint on the inside and also a firefly detail on the sides.

Practical and stylish with just a touch of whimsy.

I also got some prescription sunglasses for the very first time in my life.

Which, wow. Even in bright sunlight I can SEE ALL THE THINGS. Makes me sorta wonder what I've been missing all these years.

I also decided to place an order with Zenni Optical, which I first heard about here. I ordered three pairs for just under $50 including shipping. One pair was $6.95, one was $9.95, and one was $12.95, plus I sprang for the anti-reflection coating on them for $4.95 for each pair (which might have been a racket but even with that extra charge my entire order was so laughably cheap compared to every other pair of glasses I had ever owned that I decided to go for it). I have what I lovingly refer to as a pin head-- I am rather petitely craniumed-- so I decided to choose two pairs that were listed as size "medium" and one size "small." There are measurements and so forth on the site but I found myself getting kind of bogged down by it all. Basically I kept coming back to the fact that they were so cheap that even if they didn't fit OR look good I still spent less than $50 on back up glasses. Plus, since I ordered three pairs, odds were that ONE of them would be okay. So I picked the ones I liked best, typed in my prescription and pupillary distance, and they were in my mailbox less than a week later.
Enough chatter! Wanna see them?
Pair #1- Christmassy patterned red and white stripies!

It probably didn't make a whole lot of sense to order Christmassy glasses in JULY but I got very excited when I saw them.
I tried to take a photo to show you the stripies.

But my forehead kind of blends into the wall here so I tried again.

Better.
Although... it's unlikely that in real life I'll be wearing these in situations of intelligence like lectures or interviews and sort of holding my glasses halfway down my nose so I can inspect something of importance at closer range.
More likely I'll wear these at a Christmas party, so let's try that type of photo.

Here I am at your Christmas party! I'm very proper with my pinky up and also very charming!

Actually, more likely is this version of me at your Christmas party:

I'm not socializing on the couch, I'M AT THE FOOD TABLE.

Pair #2- Plasticy pink in a more roundish shape! (Why didn't Zenni hire me to write descriptions for the glasses?)


In this photo I attempted the 'looking at the camera' technique. I feel like it comes off kind of creepy.... I'M LOOKING RIGHT AT YOU.

Pair #3- Black plastic with pink accents!

These are definitely my favorites of the ones I ordered from Zenni. I like the shape and I LOVE the pink accents. You can't tell in the photo but the pink goes all the around the inside of the frames so when I'm looking out through them sometimes my view gets tinted pink or has pink fuzzies in the corner. I brought them with me this weekend since I didn't want to bring my nice glasses and I experienced for the first time the phenomenon of not feeling the urge to remove my glasses before having my photo taken.
I usually buy glasses I like, but I think I tend to feel like I don't totally look like MYSELF when I'm wearing them. This time, the experience of looking through hundreds of options, clicking to 'try them on' a photo of myself, and ordering several different, colorful styles I hadn't previously tried made it way more fun. It made them more like an accessory, instead of just something I have to wear in order to see.
They aren't just glasses anymore, they're FACE JEWELRY.

aloha, cousin

2011-08-02T18:00:00.000-07:00

This is my cousin, Christopher.

We were at the beach in Hawaii, so the shaka sign is very appropriate. He was probably taking a break between surfing and skimboarding, hanging out in the shade for a little while. I think this photo is from our family vacation when I was about 8, which means he was about 16.
That vacation was pretty awesome, as you might expect. I don't remember a whole lot of details from it, just little snippets here and there... swimming and splashing in the warm ocean water... eating shave ice... collecting macadamia nuts and avocado pits from the ground... walking around downtown and buying shell necklaces... drinking big glasses of POG and playing cards or charades....

My family lived pretty far away from Chris's while we were growing up, so vacations and visits were pretty much the only times we saw each other. Chris would tease me and goof around, in a big brotherly sort of way (or at least that's what I imagine, having never had a brother). Since I was so much younger than everyone else I was treated like a baby a lot of the time. But not by Chris-- he was somehow always able to make me feel included and special.

Seven years ago we all flew out to Hawaii for Chris's wedding.
Six years ago we all flew out to Hawaii for Chris's funeral.

There's not much else I can tell you about Chris. I'd love to talk about his music and his jokes and his beautiful wife, but those stories aren't mine to share. And there are so many things about him that I don't know myself, that I'll never know and I can't ask.
I'll never truly know him. I'll never understand what was going through his mind the night he walked into his garage and ended his life. I can't tell you about his struggles, his pain, or his anguish because I never knew about any of it.
The last time I saw him he seemed like the same old Chris, lighthearted and laid-back. Joking. Smiling. Happy.

After his memorial, we buried Chris's ashes on a hill overlooking the a sugar cane field and the sea. We cried and laughed and told our favorite stories about him. No one asked those difficult questions that I'm sure we were all pondering.
Why...?
and How could he...?
and How could we not have...?

When I tell people about Chris, they sometimes ask me if we were close. It happens more often than you'd think."I was really shaken up-- my cousin committed suicide."
"Oh... were you close?"

They say it sympathetically, like it is meant as a condolence, but the words catch in my ears and infuriate me.
Was I close? To my cousin whose death makes me physically ill?
DOES IT FUCKING MATTER?

Also: It's complicated.
To say that Chris and I were close would not be true. But to say that we weren't doesn't acknowledge what he meant to me, what he still means to me.

He was my cousin.
He was the only boy amongst a whole mess of girls.
He was our grandmother's clear favorite.
He was a jokester, a buddy, a nomad.
He was a musician and an artist and a surfer.
He was... different. I remember knowing that he was different before I knew what that meant or how hard it could be to be different from your family. He was unique and unapologetically himself.

Our family is loving and supportive, but Chris was someone who truly accepted and, for lack of a better word, celebrated people and their individual choices. I don't know how to say this without making the rest of my family sound like a crew of jerks, so let me be clear: I love my family dearly and I know they love me and are very proud of me. But Chris was, as I said, different. I don't think he would have cared that I have tattoos or that I've made some mistakes and done things of which I am not proud. Even if I had done something like quit school, I think he would have been nothing but accepting and supportive.

I remember that while all of us were getting caught up and stressed out about the little things, Chris was always there to see the bigger picture, the important piece.
Until, one day, he wasn't.

So, I feel like Chris and I could have been close. But of course I'll never know.

A Year in Photos

2011-07-29T10:30:00.000-07:00

Overall, 28 was a good year. Of course there were plenty of ups and downs, plenty of mishaps and tears and visits to the therapist.
But looking back sure makes me smile.

Yes, 28 was a good year. Thank you to everyone (pictured here and not) who helped make it so. Thank you all for being a part of my life.

Sweet Pea

2011-07-27T18:30:00.000-07:00

I don't know why his favorite snack is flowers.

Julesapalooza2011

2011-07-25T10:30:00.000-07:00

On Saturday night some friends came over to help me celebrate the fact that I am (begrudgingly) turning 29 tomorrow. It was fun! I have evidence to prove this.
First we had some drinkies at my house and inspected the latest issue of In Touch magazine.

Leah requested a fancy drink, so KC garnished it with a carrot. He also may or may not have garnished Jenny's rootbeer and vodka with an olive. He was a very, er, creative bartender. And then Daniel interrogated me, "So... why don't you have any actual garnishes? Limes? Lemons? Cherries?..." He had a very thorough list of all the items my bar was missing.

We headed out to the Holy Cow, where I distributed glow bracelets.

Jenny demonstrated her multitalentedness by (1) managing to get my hair caught in a glow bracelet, (2) managing to break open one of the glow bracelets and spill the psychadelic goo on the table and herself, and then (3) imitating Gabriel's dance moves

She also made me a killer glow bracelet necklace chain thing. Here's what I looked like with it on:

While we were all on the dance floor, some dude came up and put his arm over my shoulder. "Hey," he said, "do you know where I could get some glow bracelets?"
"Nope. Sorry. No idea." Like I would give up a piece of my magical glowing birthday chain!

We also hung out in the little outside area. I think Daniel might actually be a time traveler.

He did wear a hat, as promised. It got passed around a bit.

As did KC's hat.

Hats are an important element for an evening at the Holy Cow.
As is ridiculousness.

Afterward we grabbed some food at the cafe next door. Daniel announced that he couldn't have a grilled cheese with bacon because he was doing a month without red meat. And then he ordered a cheesesteak sandwich.

We took a long walk and a short cab ride home (seriously, I don't know why it took FOREVER for us to get a cab but we did a lot of shuffling around on darkened streetcorners looking for one).

It was a good birthday celebration. I guess I'm as ready(ish) as I'll ever be to turn 29.

Flea Market, Barn Sale, Flea Market

2011-07-20T10:00:00.000-07:00

In order to break up the seemingly endless monotony of working on my paper, I gave myself permission to do one of my favorite weekend activities-- flea marketing!

KC came to my parents' house with me for Fourth of July weekend and since he tends to be my flea market partner in crime we ended up going to the one near their neck of the woods on that Sunday. KC is currently on this succulents-and-interesting/unique/strange-planters kick so he got some of those and I bought a little wooden shelfy thing (that I actually left in my parents' garage because I intend to sand and paint it). I also, well, erm, ended up paying $3 for this little guy.

For some reason I've been recently liking fake animal head art (?) pieces. It probably has something to do with the fact that I want want WANT NEED THIS and would totally buy it but alas I've emailed the seller twice and she never got back to me and probably thinks I'm a crazy stalker lady (but, come on don't say 'email me for special orders' if you don't meant it)? ANYhow. I'm going to put the little cow up on a wall somewhere. I'm not quite sure where yet-- the man who sold him to me said he was for hanging towels or jackets but I'm not so sure. I think he's meant for staring blankly and wondering why on earth I buy such wonderful~~ly tacky~~ items.

On the way back from the flea market, we kept seeing these big, bright orange signs for a BARN SALE in town. Even though we were hungry and tired and it was way too hot we decided to stop. It was actually pretty cool-- apparently several different people had decided to combine their yard sales into one big BARN SALE. There were big pieces of mismatched furniture strewn about the yard, rows of tables holding glassware, rows of boxes containing who knows what, cartons of photos, doll clothes, appliances, figurines, handmade jewelry, bedpans, you name it.
KC picked out several bowls and planters, asked if the lady would take ten for all of them, and then offered a couple extra bucks if she would let him snap off a piece of her big succulent plant. She said she would take the ten dollars and that he could have a piece of the succulent for free, as long as he didn't think it was Aloe, because it WAS NOT.
I came home with these.

I don't know how well you can make out the orange and yellow flower pattern but I am a firm believer in bright orange and yellow and I do enjoy having different canisters for my various pasta shapes. I paid $5 for the two of them, plus a wooden spoon.

Last weekend we headed over to the local SF flea market. I don't usually buy books, ever, actually. I just don't have room for any more in my shelves, plus the closest Borders went out of business and the library is now closer than a bookstore. And free books are better than books of any price, usually.
But then this one caught my eye and it was only a dollar.

Plus, is pretty and actually has a lot of good information and tutorials and I like its old-timey look.

I also picked up these two Breyer horses for $5 total.

That was probably the best deal I've gotten on Breyer horses-- usually they run between $5-$20 each, depending on whether or not the seller knows what they are and how stealthily I can check for the Breyer stamp on the underside of the horse. Also, I would like to point out that I HAVE been giving them to my nieces as gifts and they get particularly excited about the vintage ones. I buy them as GIFTS... I just happen to have a backlog of them on my shelf at home.

While KC picked up a couple of records (Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, The Sugarhill Gang), it was apparently container day for me at the flea market. I got all of these for a total of $7.50.

Six dollars for the poppy ceramic jar (with no lid) and the yellow and white metal canister, one dollar for the daisy cup, and fifty cents for the avocado and yellow canister. I've put the poppy jar on my countertop, for holding wooden spoons and whatnot (replacing the jug in this photo). I'm not sure what I'm going to do with the other canisters. I might use one of them to hold electronic cables that aren't in use (but I'm saving JUST IN CASE), because right now they're in a basket and it is kind of a tangled mess.

At $10, this matryoshka doll was the most expensive thing I purchased.

But! She has four other dolls inside her, so that's really like two dollars per doll! ... which I guess is still kind of a lot (especially since she's purely decorative). But matryoshka dolls seem to be kind of expensive, from what I've seen. Recently they had a matryoshka (if I type it enough, maybe I'll learn how to spell it) doll display at Costco and the cheapest one was $30. Although I did enjoy the fact that the really expensive big ones had many many little dolls inside them.

Looks like I'm the asshat.

2011-07-19T21:30:00.000-07:00

Now that I am at my sister's house, I am happy to report:

1. She doesn't use paper plates on an everyday basis. She uses regular dishes.

2. She recycles.

3. She uses rags for cleaning instead of paper towels.

4. She uses cloth napkins. I saw them sitting on the table tonight, all pretty and flowered and soft from repeated uses and washings and, ding!, I remembered: I started using cloth napkins a few years ago AFTER I SAW MY SISTER USE THEM AT HER HOUSE.

giant paper v 2.0, feelings

2011-07-18T18:00:00.000-07:00

I turned in my Giant Paper Thing v 2.0 (or my New Giant Paper Thing, whichever you prefer to call it) today. People keep congratulating me. The lady at the desk where I turned it in gave me a big smile and a "Good luck!"
And while I appreciate the support, really I do, I can't help but feel rather... meh about the whole situation.
The first time I turned in that paper I felt a flood of nervous relief-- I was done! Huge weight lifted! Let's go out for happy hour and celebrate! Annnnnd then it all blew up in my face.

I couldn't even begin to imagine how I might go about writing that paper ALL OVER AGAIN OMG. I met with my advisor, Peg, and basically just argued with her the whole time. She'd tell me I didn't have such and such requirement covered in my paper and I would point out that she had originally told me I didn't need it or that what I had written was fine. I left that meeting more angry and frustrated than when I went in, plus I still had no idea where to start as far as the rewrite went.

Then, on a whim, I emailed the director of my program, Sandra, and asked if she might have time to work with me at all on my rewrite. So I ended up working only with Sandra and not Peg. Which, spoiler alert, turned out to be a very good idea.

Sometime in early June Sandra calls me into her office and tells me that she figured out that the big issue with my original paper was actually the topic I chose-- all of the other problems stemmed from this one. I put my head down on the table and cried. Once I collected myself Sandra and I came up with a new topic (basically refocusing my old one), found the new articles I would be critiquing, and figured out a rough schedule for my writing. "What else do you need?" Sandra asked me as we were wrapping up.
"Um. Could you just, uh, tell me I'm not a complete idiot for writing the paper the way I did it the first time?"
"Oh!" said Sandra, "No no! You're not. There's no way you could have known that the topic wouldn't work without doing all the work you did."

But you know who probably SHOULD HAVE KNOWN that? My advisor, Peg. Apparently I had been stuck trying to do a PhD level analysis of a difficult topic when I should have just scrapped the whole thing and focused on something more straightforward. I can't even imagine how it would have gone if I had been stuck working with her AGAIN on my rewrite. Actually, I can imagine it: lots of weeping.
"But, I mean, hasn't she advised people before?" Jenny asked me when I told her that story.
I paused for a moment as I thought it over. "You know what? No, actually. She usually advises PhD students."
LIGHTBULB.

So. I had to write the whole paper all over again. And it was annoying and it sucked but it wasn't as PAINFUL a process as I thought it would be. I guess it was a lot easier since I had some real guidance and, you know, someone who actually answered my questions with a bit more than just "Well that's probably fine...."

Last week I went to my parents' house since my sisters were still in town and even though the house was loud and zooey at times with all the kiddos it was preferable to writing alone in my apartment all week and slowly going stir crazy. Plus, the kids were really cute and my sister made sangria every evening. On Wednesday night I stayed up until 4 am writing, editing, and writing some more. I was trying to get a draft of the whole paper together and email it to Sandra, since she had only seen the various pieces of it separately. I sent the email off at 4, then I ate a little snack and hopped in bed. I probably fell asleep at about 5, but Bowie woke up at 6ish, and jumped around until I put him in another room. And then kids started making noise at about 7 so I guess what I'm trying to say is that I didn't get a great night of sleep. And then at 9 am Sandra calls and asks me if I can drive an hour and a half to come meet her so that we can go over a few last things before I write my final draft. "What time should I come?" I asked. "How about 10:30?" says Sandra. Oh! Awesome! So I'll leave RIGHT NOW!
I shuffled into the kitchen, feeling cranky and sad. I whimpered at my mom for a minute. "Go take a quick shower," she said. "You'll feel better."
I took my shower and gathered my things and as I was heading out the door my mom handed me a little bag. "I packed you a lunch." She had made me a sandwich and added several little bags of nibbley foods (carrot sticks, chips) so I could much away and not fall asleep on my drive. Aren't moms the best?

To make a long story, well, longer, I finished my paper and I turned it in today.

I know that I worked as hard as I could on it and that I had good people helping me and Sandra gave the green light for everything in the paper. If it doesn't pass this time, well, I guess that's that. I got so worked up and DEVASTATED before when I didn't pass that now it just seems like a waste of energy. No, not a waste of energy. But like I used up all my Strong Feelings about this and now I'm just down to... meh.
Of course I WANT to pass. I want my degree and I have worked my arse off on this firetrucking paper TWICE, FTLOG and haven't I suffered enough just let the dang thing pass!
But if it doesn't? Life will still go on. I'll still get a job. I'll still be content with my life. I'm not letting this one stupid paper control my happiness, that's for sure.

The Giant Paper Thing doesn't own me anymore.

Paper Plates & Siblings

2011-07-08T14:00:00.000-07:00

Today, I have found myself going in obsessive thought-loops about paper plates. A few things you should know:

1. I dislike paper plates. And styrofoam plates. And those flimsy plastic meant-to-be-used-once-and-thrown-away plates. And cups and bowls made out of those materials. Basically, I dislike single-use dishware of any sort. I find it wasteful.
1a. I understand that there are some cases in which convenience trumps environmentalism-- if you are hosting a child's birthday party at the park, I'm not going to scold you for not bringing your own sturdy plastic dishes and washing them at home later. I can be a reasonable person, however it may seem!
1b. I understand that it is not always my place to ask someone to change their lifestyle. If I don't know you very well and you offer me a drink in a plastic cup or I see you serving dinner on paper plates, I won't necessarily say anything OR judge you.

2. I WILL judge you if I see you using single-use dishware on a regular basis. My Crazy Ex's dad used, I shit you not, STYROFOAM plates as his everyday dishes. He had a pile of styrofoam plates in the cupboard, SITTING ON TOP of the regular dishes. To me this just represented EPIC laziness and whenever anyone used one I felt like crying. Or yelling at him that THIS is what is wrong with the world: when people use something and throw it away and it festers in the landfill for centuries but meh, who cares, it's easier than washing a dish and I'm just one person so it doesn't matter. It DOES matter, asshat.
2a. I understand that everyone can't do everything. Some people recycle. Some people use those fancy newfangled lightbulbs to save energy. And maybe these same people are hanging on to their high-flow shower heads and driving to work every day. Not everyone can do everything, but I think we should all do something. If you're the guy who doesn't recycle AND tosses cigarette butts in the street AND waters the lawn on rainy days AND uses throwaway dishes? A pox on you.

3. At my parents' house I have seen my sister consistently reaching for paper plates when she goes to offer her kids a meal. This bothers me. I understand that they are on vacation and that she is overworked and overwhelmed, but I guess it doesn't fall into one of the 'exception' categories for me. This feels less like items 1a or 1b and more like item 2: repeated, unnecessary use. We're not talking about using paper plates for a big party or an outing, just a regular dinner.
3a. I ask her to please not use paper plates; I offer to wash all the dishes myself. And she huffs at me and rolls her eyes and says things like "They're already BOUGHT, Julia" and tells her daughter to just not use a plate AT ALL.

It's an odd scenario, when someone you love does something that bothers you AND acts like you are purposely trying to inconvenience her by asking her not to. It's a situation I'm not sure how to handle, because she seems unable to hear me out and I also don't want to make a HUGE DEAL out of this when it needn't be one. The problem is that I'm bothered by the paper plate usage and ALSO by the antagonistic response I have been getting when I make what I feel is a reasonable request. It turns the situation into a Sibling Fight rather than just two humans who disagree about something attempting to compromise. And in a Sibling Fight I will ALWAYS be the little sister, the one with less life experience. I'm the one still in school, the one who doesn't have any kids, the one with big silly ideals that will vanish once I get out in the REAL world and see how hard it is. And since I know I'm perceived that way, it is unlikely I'll come out on top in any disagreement.
But I still think I'm right about the paper plates.

every lady needs a mixer

2011-07-01T23:00:00.000-07:00

I used to say that every lady needs a Kitchenaid mixer and, well, that might still be true. Because: PRETTY! They're just so pretty! I've had my eye on one for years but I figured I wouldn't get it until I got a house or got married or had some other Big Life Event.
Recently mixers have been even MORE on my mind because several people I know are getting/have gotten married and a pretty, colorful Kitchenaid mixer seems to make it onto every registry. It's almost like it's not even a discussion anymore. No one questions the need for a three hundred dollar mixer; you just put one on your registry because that's what people do. I don't want you to misinterpret my tone here, dear reader. I am FULLY ON BOARD with the Kitchenaid mixer and its placement on one's registry. It's been on my imaginary registry for YEARS. And because of a timely blog post, I've recently found myself daydreaming about what color I might get.
Like Tangerine.

Or Buttercup.

Ahhhhh. Such bright, vibrant colors. I heart them.

And then, out of the blue today, I fell in love with this.

Pictured below its shiny new counterparts, that little mixer sure looks like a hunk o junk. I honestly don't know why I love it so much. It's a dusty, mustard yellow color with big chunky buttons and that whole top piece is vaguely reminiscent of an iron. But it caught my eye, sitting on the appliances shelf at the thrift store amongst coffee makers and food processors. I fondled it for awhile and then bought it. It was $8, marked off from $16.
It didn't come with any of its accessories (of which, according to several ebay searches, there are apparently MANY) so I had to order a pair of replacement beaters online for $10 and I'll probably just use a bowl I already have. Again, I hope we aren't misinterpreting my tone here. I'm not listing the amount of money I spent as a "neener neener my mixer was dirt cheap!" but more of a "look at the interesting vintage find I happened upon today!" sentiment. Because, again, I'm a lifelong supporter of the Kitchenaid mixer and the republic for which it stands.

But back to my drab lil mixer. I love how it looks in my kitchen. I've got a bit of a retro flava thing happening in there.

A bonus I discovered when I tried to pick it up by the handle and thought it broke: it's also a blender, apparently.

Maybe someday I'll get my hands on the blending attachment.

Also, when it turns on it smells like my grandmother's mixer. That probably means it is a fire hazard, but it gives me a pleasant grandma association: grandma baking cookies, grandma letting me lick the bowl, grandma giving me a little cup of cookie dough to eat. (It's a wonder I never got salmonella.)

14. give someone something I love

2011-06-27T22:30:00.000-07:00

This is Sunny.

I know I've mentioned this before but this girl is the human embodiment of a ray of sunshine. She's bubbly and happy and sweet and genuine. If you're feeling nervous about clinical or giving a presentation, Sunny's right there, ready with words of encouragement. "You're AWESOME," she'll say with bright, earnest eyes and a big smile, "You can do it!"
She'll tell you you're a rock star and she means it, and then you start to believe it a little bit too.

I met Sunny at in September of 2009, the very beginning of my Master's program. She was in my class, another ger1atr1cs specialty gal. I remember on our first day we were all sitting in a classroom listening to announcements and whatnot and sizing each other up. I remember seeing her then, wearing some brightly colored long-skirt-over-leggings outfit and I remember thinking maybe I'll be friends with that girl. That's pretty rare for me. I don't tend to like people I first meet, especially before I've even talked to them, and especially when I'm in a brand-new social-anxiety-inducing situation. But on the third day of school Sunny came up to me as I was just getting settled in the back row of the big, auditorium classroom for one of our 200-person classes. "Hey, Julia, do you wanna come sit down there," she said, pointing to a cluster of seats in the fifth row, "with some of the girls from our specialty?" I told her, no, I always sat in the back because I didn't like being up so close.
"Well," said Sunny, "If you want to have friends, you should come up and sit with us." She actually said THOSE words to me and THEY DID NOT COME OFF SNARKY. She was smiling and inviting and actually gave me the impression that she wanted to be my friend. Oy, I feel like I'm telling a story about preschool, not GRAD SCHOOL, but yes, this is how socially awkward I am.

So Sunny and I have been friends since that day. We were partners in our assessment class and I am CERTAIN that I wouldn't have gotten through that first quarter of the program without her. Sunny barely knew me but she pulled me aside and asked what was wrong the day I came to class crying. She came over to my house and taught me how to assess the lungs after I missed that day of class. For two years she's been there for me whenever I needed to vent or cry; for two years she's been telling me that I would get through this program, we both would.

Sunny says I'm the strongest woman she knows, I say I'm only as strong as my friends have made me. Because I couldn't have made it as far as I have or gotten up after falling spectacularly without people like her willing to catch me.

Today Sunny and her fiance packed up their last few things and headed off on their long drive across the country. They're moving out east and getting married in August. When you see the two of them together they just make sense.

Sunny brings out the best in everyone, but Nick brings out the best in her.

At their goodbye party on Friday Sunny mentioned that she had been meaning to buy some glitter eyeshadow like mine but had kept forgetting to ask what it was or where I'd gotten it. I had wanted to give her some kind of going away present but I hadn't been able to think of anything so I decided to give her my eyeshadow.

I would have actually bought her some but this weekend happened to also include a quick jaunt to Tahoe (if the definition of the phrase 'quick jaunt' can be stretched to include 'five hours of me driving while KC napped'). Anyhow, I didn't have time to run to the store to actually buy her the eyeshadow since KC and I barely made it back in time to catch Stealing West. Sunny's been singing backup for her bro-in-law's band for awhile now and they put on a spectacular performance at the festival last weekend and again last night, their farewell show.

Several members of the band are moving soon, so the house was packed with their friends, cheering, dancing, and getting teary-eyed. After the set KC and I said goodbye to our friends. We hugged Sunny and Nick and promised to visit someday, maybe next year or the year after that. Sunny told me I'm a rock star and I'm going to be a great NP and I gave her my eyeshadows. Now her eyes can sparkle almost as much as her personality.

I'll miss you, girl. Go light up the world.

Not that it matters. But STILL.

2011-06-24T12:00:00.000-07:00

The other day I hung out with a friend of mine from college who I hadn't seen in awhile, let's call her Chloe. We talked about this and that-- what we had been up to since we had last seen each other, what our mutual friends had been up to, etc. Being girls and all (not to sound sexist but come on), we eventually landed on the topic of boys. Now, this friend had knew me in college so she obviously knew my college boyfriend, let's call him Jerky.

So we talked about Jerky for a little bit. I told Chloe that it was funny, I had sincerely thought I Fixed him when I broke up with him. He was so sad and heartbroken about me deciding to finally, FINALLY, end that train wreck of a relationship that I thought he was Fixed. Jerky had learned: he wouldn't treat anybody else the way he had treated me, he would stop being such a douchebag, he would be nice to his girlfriend and commit to her instead of sending mixed messages and stringing her along, hell I halfway figured Jerky would marry the first girl he dated after me. But, no, it turned out that I hadn't Fixed him-- threeish years after our breakup he was still exactly the same, still acting shady and not being honest with his girlfriend.

Chloe said she wasn't surprised that Jerky was still acting like that. Then she asked me if I had heard from our other friend, let's call her Amanda. No, I said, I hadn't talked to her in a couple years.
And then Chloe told me that while I was dating Jerky he had hooked up with Amanda.

Oh, awesome.

I knew that Jerky was a shady dude. I didn't fully trust him while I was dating him, but I did believe him when he told me things. If you don't know this about me already: I DO NOT LIE. No, really. I don't lie. It is hard for me to pick up on people who are liars or fakes because I AM PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE of doing this. So, while I knew that something was amiss with Jerky, I never actually thought that he cheated on or lied to me.
After I had broken up with Jerky and I learned a little bit more about this great wide world, I started thinking that he might have cheated on me during our relationship. The clues were there, you know? Didn't want to say I was his girlfriend + didn't want me to hang out with him and his friends + secretive of his phone and emails + weirdly suspicious of me and angry about me talking to any other dudes + told me I wasn't as pretty as I used to be. Oh, what? You thought I made up this stuff?

Anyhow, I thought that he had possibly cheated on me, but suspecting that and knowing FOR SURE are two different things. Thinking that Jerky possibly cheated on me with some random girl is also very different than knowing FOR SURE that he cheated on me WITH ONE OF MY FRIENDS.

I've tried to write this post several times over the last couple of days but I have been holding back because I'm not sure I'm getting across exactly what I want to say and I keep falling into being yelly and capslocky. I'm not dating Jerky anymore. Our relationship was done years ago and I'm with somebody else now (somebody great-- love you honey, don't ever cheat on me). So on the one hand I feel kind of indignant and mad, but on the other it seems like it shouldn't matter since none of this has anything to do with the current cast of characters in my life.

But, I mean, STILL.

I just don't understand cheating. I don't get it. Why do people do it? WHY? More specifically, why do people cheat and they carry on with their lives, LYING to their significant other? HOW DO THEY SLEEP AT NIGHT? I mean, besides the fact that they're so exhausted from carrying around the charade of their double life and the great burden of their many sins.

ALSO. Why have I gotten screwed over SO MANY TIMES BY SO MANY PEOPLE? I had thought that The Crazy Ex (hereafter known simply as Crazy) was miles and miles ahead of anybody else, in terms of horribleness. He was SO horrible he kind of made Jerky seem Not So Bad. When Crazy stalked me and stole my social security number, all of a sudden Jerky started to seem like one of those okay guys with whom it just didn't work out for one reason or another. But HA HA joke's on me! Jerky cheated on me with one of my friends.

Not that any of this matters now. But STILL.

The lying, you guys. The LYING. Why are some people such LYING LIARS WHO SIT ON A THRONE OF LIES?

Being lied to in a relationship makes you feel crazy. You feel confused and suspicious but also that it might all just be in your head but why won't he just talk to you instead of yelling and making you feel stupid? If I had a nickel for every time I should have listened to my gut feeling I would probably have enough cash to invent a machine called The Gut Feeling that would analyze the situation figure out the truth for you in an objective, fair manner. If you ever wonder why I might have Trust Issues it's because I have been right far too many times.

I broke up with Jerky after several years of dating. I was exhausted and drained from the relationship and I just didn't want to try anymore, not even one more time. And I also had a crush on another guy and tried to see him a little after Jerky and I broke up. You see how I did that? I waited until AFTER I had ended my relationship to start anything with somebody new. I was in a relationship and I didn't want to be in it anymore SO I ENDED IT. Ta freakin da.
There were a gabillion and one legit reasons to break up with Jerky, but one of the reasons I did it was because I wanted to date somebody else. I didn't pussyfoot around and cheat and lie and go behind his back. No, I womanned the hell up and told him I was done with our relationship. Not that it matters! But STILL!
I don't usually get up on my high horse about things because, pshh whatever, we all do stupid things and everybody's got their own opinions and blah blah blarg. But when it comes to cheating I am very far up on my high horse. In fact, my horse is so high I'm just a DOT to you people. MY HORSE IS VERY VERY HIGH AND LYING IS BAD.

***
So, okay. Deep breath. Apparently not being yelly and capslocky was not in the cards.
The most important thing that I have to remind myself here is that this is all from long ago and that none of it pertains to my current situation. My life is good, I'm happy in my relationship, I've done a lot of healing from past hurts, etc. So that stuff from the past doesn't matter.
(But still.)

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

2011-06-22T09:30:00.000-07:00

It really is beautiful today. But I'm CRANKY.

Allow me to explain. What's that? You didn't ask? Well TOO BAD. This is ALL I HAVE FOR YOU TODAY.

Ahem.

My apartment building is situated very near... well, let's just say it's near a collection of very popular, trendy restaurants. These restaurants tend to be pretty happening sometimes and there can be large crowds of people around. It makes me very glad that I have a parking space in my building's garage because otherwise I would be spending a lot more time cursing and hollering than I already do. There are several parking garages near my street so the area around my building tends to get rather congested with both pedestrian and automobile traffic. And leaving or coming back to my neighborhood at certain times of the day or having people over can be a little tricky. Basically the situation is kind of annoying but, whatever, it's fine.

About a year ago the city repainted my street so that the two lanes became one lane plus a bike lane. That was kind of annoying but, whatever, it's fine.

About six months ago the building down the street started a large construction project. That was kind of annoying but, whatever, it's fine.

About a week ago I received a notice that a mobile food company has applied for a permit to park a food truck right outside my building. And ~~that will be kind of ann~~ OH HELL NO, MOTHASUCKAS.

When I look out my window I see traffic and confusion and pedestrians jaywalking across a busy street and bicycles zooming between cars and cones blocking off parts of the sidewalk and big construction vehicles taking up parking spaces and parts of the street. My garage entrance often gets partially or completely blocked and oh oh guess what? The food truck wants to park right next to my garage entrance! Because who cares about the people trying to see if cars or bicycles are whizzing by when they are turning onto the street? {Sarcastic Jazz Hands}

Apparently there is going to be a hearing at the courthouse about the food truck. I will probably go and I think it will be hard to voice my concerns as anything but "I'm sorry, but how could you even THINK about adding another element to this clusterfuck? COME ON."

Really, if all of those other variables weren't already in place I would probably welcome the food truck (or at least, not feel such firey rage against it). Obviously if I could have PICKED I would have chosen a food truck over months and months of dusty, loud construction. But I didn't get to pick and those other things already exist so, I'm sorry Mr. Food Truck but my displaced anger is getting saddled squarely onto your shoulders. I don't care if you are delicious, YOU HAVE BAD TIMING.*

*I think I may have just found my new catchphrase.

Hamburger Ranch

2011-06-21T09:40:00.000-07:00

On the way back from camping, we stopped at this barbecue place that somebody had recommended. We hadn't really planned to stop for a full on lunch since we took off pretty soon after breakfast, but the guy had REALLY talked this place up and it was right on the way back to SF.

"Hey," I said to KC as we pulled out of the parking lot, "Should we stop at that place the dude told us about? What's it called, The Human Barbecue?"
"What? That's not the name."
"Well I know that's not the NAME. But I feel like it's something kind of like that..."
"Hang on, lemme think. It's called, um... Hamburger Ranch! Yeah let's stop there."

(I do that sometimes-- If I can't remember the name of a restaurant or store I'll just substitute something I think might be similar. Like "What's that place in the East Bay called? Harold and Juffey's?" or "I went to this awesome vintage store called Moondoggie's or something." But, I mean, that still doesn't totally explain why I thought this place was called THE HUMAN BARBECUE which sounds like a horror movie or death trap of some kind, doesn't it?)

Anyhow! We ordered the combo plate with a full rack or ribs plus brisket, mac n cheese, and baked beans to share. And it was OMG delicious. I like ribs but often feel like they're difficult to eat because you have to wrench the meat off the bones and it all gets stuck in your teeth and the sauce gets all over your hands and face and why don't they ever bring me enough napkins? But THESE ribs were, according to the menu, slow cooked for a long time and the meat was so tender you could cut it with a fork. Not that I actually wasted my time cutting it and I didn't even care about the sauce getting all over me-- with KC around I have to be a bit grabby of the food I actually want to make it into my mouth. The rest of the meal was great, too, but the ribs were definitely the star. We also enjoyed sitting outside in the shady patio, listening to the live band, and sippin on soda pops. KC's one complaint was that the spicy barbecue sauce wasn't hot enough for him. Pshh, whiner. And the total cost for two people so full they could hardly stagger back to their car and bicker over who had to drive the rest of the way home? $31.
Hamburger Ranch: two very-sticky-with-barbecue-sauce thumbs up.

fun fun fun weekend

2011-06-20T16:00:00.000-07:00

Oh man I'm tired. Not really 'tired tired' but more like 'looking around my apartment with eyes at half-mast wondering where all this crap came from and where to put it all and OMG the laundry is spilling out of the basket and blocking the entire kitchen/hallway and I've already washed three loads of it and I still have to unpack the cooler and take my camping things and costume bins down to the storage room and I have to finish critiquing an article today and do my clinical log at some point and gah Bowie threw up in my beach glass....'

Anyhow. This weekend was REALLY FUN. I think once KC and I drove about an hour outside of SF I turned to him and said "You know what? I'm already having fun." I was happy to be out of the city and in an area with open spaces/trees. And then we arrived at the campground and spent the weekend having picnics, swimming, lounging, listening to fantastic live music, and wearing costumes. Basically a bunch of my favorite things to do all in one weekend: FUN.

Here are the things I ended up packing. I'm posting this because I'd like to have it written down somewhere and also I've never been what might be considered a 'light' or 'efficient' packer-- I usually tend to bring OPTIONS of different outfits, even if I'm just going somewhere overnight-- but THIS time I actually did a pretty efficient job of packing. It was still a ridiculous amount of stuff, but there were only a very few things we didn't end up needing/wanting.

Camping things
- tent
- sleeping bags, blankies, pillows- last year I was FREEZING at night but this year I was actually okay, probably due to the combination of the different camp site, our sleeping bags, this blanket, and KC the Human Furnace sleeping next to me.
- air mattress- the one we ended up getting was kind of ridiculous because it was so high up it looked like a full sized bed. But it was the first air mattress I've slept on that was actually comfortable.
- bug repellent lotion
- sunscreen lotion- spray things tend to bother other people.
- flashlight- KC brought his headlamp which was highly useful.
- Betsy (KC's guitar)
- folding table- we camped nextdoor to a cabin and ended up setting up the table on the cabin's porch for a makeshift bar area.

Clothes and such
- 1 skirt- I felt like maybe I should have brought more than one after I spilled coconut milk goo on it while I was helping out in the kitchen but, meh, camping.
- 4 pairs of pants (capri lounge pants, regular lounge pants, sweatpants, purple leggings). I should have skipped the sweatpants but, again, I was anticipating being COLD at night. Also, I generally don't like the idea of wearing regular clothes as jammies but I neglected to remember that when I'm camping I ALREADY feel/am grungy so wearing my clothes to bed probably isn't any more gross.
- 4 shirts
- 2 undertanks
- socks, underoos- I was particularly happy I brought THESE:

Toe socks! For wearing to bed and getting up in the middle of the night to pee and stepping out of the tent and into my flip flops with ease!

- swimsuit, towel
- hat- I just renewed my driver's license and now I must wear corrective lenses when I drive so I've been doing a lot of driving with my glasses plus a billed cap.
- sunglasses
- 1 pair boots, 1 pair sneakers, 1 pair flip flops- I'm sure this sounds like a ridiculous amount of shoes but for ME that is actually a pretty conservative number. I wanted to bring another pair of boots to go with my costumes, but I decided to just wear the boots that fit in my duffel bag since they would actually go with both costumes (western AND cosmic). I also thought about bringing a pair of slidey-on sneakers for getting up in the middle of the night to pee, and that's how I came up with the awesome toe sock ideer.
- clothes for swap- I actually brought more clothes to donate to the swap than I took home. Success!

Snacks
- beef jerky, cheetos puffs, PB&J fixins, cookies- breakfast and dinner were provided but lunches were on our own.
- cooler with ice, beer, sodas, string cheese.

Kitchen
- lemons- one of the main kitchen people had sent out an email that they needed lemons and my parents have a lemon tree so I volunteered to bring some.
- potatoes- everyone is supposed to bring a vegetable so we brought potatoes.
- cups, plates, bowls, utensils
- water bottle- there was a filling station.

Toiletries
- toothbrushes, toothpaste
- baby wipes- very useful, particularly since I didn't shower....
- hairbands, hairbrush
- deodorant
- benadryl
- makeup & glitter

Costumes and Accessories
- western outfit- long skirt, western looking sweater

The boys had pretty great interpretations of western wear.

- cowboy hat
- orange outfit- I needed an orange outfit for Saturday afternoon so I bought an orange skirt and some tall orange socks and a scarf at a thrift store.
- cosmic outfit- a zodiac print skirt, pink tube top, sparkly leg warmers, and colorful arm warmers.

- glowsticks- I brought six tubes of glowsticks. I didn't realize there were FIFTEEN glow bracelets in each tube so we had enough for both nights and plenty to share.
- magic wand
- earrings
One thing that I was really happy I did was figure out my exact costumes ahead of time and pack them in ziploc bags. Like I said, I usually like to have options, so this was a BIG DEAL.

I also brought a few things that were interchangeable. Like the purple leggings I took would work with the one regular skirt (for either driving or lounging around if it hadn't been super hot like it was) and they could go under my long western skirt or under my zodiac skirt to keep me warmer at night. I also wore my orange head scarf a lot. In fact, I'm wearing it right now.

Yes, I have showered since I've been back. I just haven't washed my hair yet....

I should have brought- a couple cloth napkins or an extra towel, hairspray or hair goo of some kind. I went for a swim on Saturday so my hair was pretty coarse from the chlorine and stuck together nicely when I put it up in my crazy cosmic hairdo.
I didn't need- so many dang jackets, book, earplugs, spray sunscreen.

Did I mention it was a lot of fun?

Sunny is moving across the country in about a week (WAAAAH) to get married and start her big grownup professional life but she said that she'll keep going to S0up, so I can look forward to seeing her again next year!

Souperjules

2011-06-15T09:40:00.000-07:00

I'm going camping this weekend and packing for this trip is... difficult. Allow me to explain. You see I'm going to this annual Bay Area festival type thing called 'S0up' that's kind of hippyish and Burning Man-esque and they rent out a whole campground/compound area for 300ish people and you camp and there's music pretty much all day long and 'playshops' (like workshops, but for fun things) you can attend or not attend as you like and everybody hugs you.
I went last year with my friend who I'll call Sunny because she's basically the human embodiment of a ray of sunshine, but if you meet her I swear you'll like her. I know what you're thinking-- you're thinking "Pshhh, I won't like her. I bet she'll just annoy me." And I'm telling you SHE WON'T. I tend not to like most people I meet but I liked her instantly and she's happy and bubbly and sweet but not in an annoying way. And I wish I could tell you her real name but it's very unique and internet-searchable so for now she'll be Sunny.

ANYHOW. Sunny invited me and our other friend T last year and we had a blast. Evidence:

That's Sunny in the middle and T on the right.

She's also good at singing (and dancing and hula hooping). You'll like her, I swear.

The food was terrific.

I'm glad I took this pic last year-- there won't be a dragon at the new campsite.

Swimming in the pond!

So since I attended last year I'm invited back and I'm allowed to bring a guest. I talked KC into coming with me and after months and months of S0up being in the distant future it is suddenly THIS WEEKEND. And we have to pack. Last year the theme was Sea (can't you tell from our costumes?), this year the theme is Cosmic. I posted my packing list last year and it's even more extensive this year, partly because I know a little bit better what I'm getting myself into and partly because the theme is different.

tent
sleeping bags, blankies, pillows
air mattress
snacks
beer
soda
bug spray
flashlight
book
flip flops
sneakers
boots
Betsy (KC's guitar)
lemons
potatoes
glow sticks
magic wand
earplugs
toiletries
baby wipes
towel
sun hat
clothes for swap
lougey clothes
jacket/sweats
underoos, socks
cups, plates, bowls, utensils
water bottle
cowboy hat
orange outfit
space outfits
GLITTER
rubber bands
cooler with ice
sunscreen
folding table

Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something?

Gradumication Day

2011-06-14T12:00:00.000-07:00

So... this happened.

Check out the awesome Ger1atr1cs specialty pin and the fake diploma. Oh yeah.

We started our afternoon in probably the diveyest (diviest?) of dive bars, The Hot Spot. It was close to the graduation ceremony location and we figured it probably wouldn't be crowded.

The gorgeous lady in the adorbs pink hat is my friend D, of the m1dw1fery specialty. She and I have been friends since our first year (the RN part of the program... it's confusing) and I don't know how I would have made it this far without her. And her hat is amazing.

That glass of champagne was free, btw.

I happened to arrive at the bar about thirty minutes before any of my friends or our families showed up. So I sat at the bar and made friends with some of the, erm, characters of the Tenderloin. Eventually everybody got there, but you'll have to take my word for it that my family was there since they're internet-shy. They were there with bells on, and they made for quite a boisterous cheering section.

Some of my favorite peeps from the 1st year of the program, outside the symphony hall where we put on and tried to figure out how to make our hoods lay the way they were supposed to and also not choke us.

More kids from my specialty, hanging out backstage before our spectacular entrance. Ger1 Gals... Unite!

We did it!!!

After the ceremony there was lots of milling around, hugs and handshakes with my professors and friends, and photo opportunities. Then it was off to Sushi Toni for delicious food and drinkies with the fam (I swear they were there), not to mention PRESENTS! And party favors! KC redeemed himself and gave me a gorgeous purse and my parents gave me a string of pearls which I think is very proper and grownup and ladylike.
A good time was had by all. But mostly me.

Letterman Jackets

2011-06-07T06:45:00.000-07:00

"That letterman jacket is pretty awesome."

"I know, right? I haven't gotten to wear it since high school! Check out all my letters!"

"What are they?"

"This one is academics. And three for track."

"Wait, I only see two for track!"

"The letter counts as one."

"Oh."

"So how many letters did you get?"

"More than you."

"No you didn't!"

"Let's see... two for field hockey, two for track, and four for diving. That's EIGHT. HA!"

"Yeah? Well where's your letterman jacket?"

"Girls didn't get letterman jackets at my school."

"Then what did they wear?"

"The guy they were going out with's letterman jacket."

"So basically you're telling me that you went to high school in the 1950s...?"