The Lie of Omission

I hate lying. Well, more specifically, I hate being lied to. I hate it when lies affect my life. I hesitate to choose one particular form of lying over another as my most abhorred, but if I were forced to pick I would probably say The Lie of Omission.

One of the biggest fights KC and I got into before we broke up was an epic battle over him wanting to hang out with his ex girlfriend. I actually wrote a sulky, emo post about it at the time. Ugh. Makes me queasy just rereading it. I remember how hurt and upset I was, and also how confused and embarrassed I felt because I just couldn't figure out WHY I had such a huge problem with it. KC was discussing it with me before he hung out with her, so what the hell was my deal? Like most of my emotional issues, I assumed it had something to do with my Crazy Ex. After you're with someone like that train wreck into crazytown, I think it can be particularly difficult to distinguish what are actual Valid Concerns and what is related to having PTSD from dating an emotionally abusive sociopath.

I was uncomfortable with the idea of KC spending time with his ex girlfriend. I tried to talk to him about it, and he got angry and accused me of not trusting him. Then he revealed that while she was in town, his ex girlfriend and had an "extra ticket" to a show on Saturday night and wanted him to go with her. And, by the way, he had been talking to her on the phone regularly and hadn't told me because he knew it was upset me.

And then I was like woah woah pump yo brakes, dude. Because THAT RIGHT THERE is exactly why I HATE HATE HATE The Lie of Omission. He didn't bring up the fact that he was doing something that would upset me because... he knew it would upset me. Here I was, puttering along, thinking we had an open, honest relationship, and KC was actively keeping something from me-- something that he thought would upset me. Whether or not the thing being kept from me WOULD HAVE upset me becomes irrelevant at this point, because I will always always ALWAYS be seventy six GABILLION more times upset when I discover that I was lied to about something and then found out the truth later.

KC's response? "Well, you never asked."

Which brings me to my point, four hundred words in: The Lie of Omission is a sneaky, manipulative lie.

The Lie of Omission turns the tables and makes you feel like it was somehow YOUR fault for not asking the SPECIFIC QUESTION that would bring it to light. The burden of truth is shifted to the LIEE instead of the LIAR. Apparently it was MY responsibility to ASK KC, "Hey, any chance you've been chatting with your ex girlfriend recently?" I CALL SHENANIGANS.

I'm going to be thirty this year, and it has taken me THIS LONG to pinpoint exactly what bothers me about The Lie of Omission. And yet I have been omission lied to for so many BIG DEALS, that now I have a categorically insane list of questions I feel like I have to ask any guy I date:
Are you married?
Have you ever been married?
Do you have a girlfriend?
Do you have a job?
Are you homeless?
Do you have any kids?
Is there a lady out there currently pregnant with your child?

Most guys look at me pretty strangely when I come out straight out gate with that litany of queries. But trust me, it wouldn't be on my list IF IT HAD NOT HAPPENED.

I dated my Crazy Ex for a FULL MONTH before he told me he had a two year old child. I didn't find out that he was married (and cheating on his wife) when we first met until after we broke up (and they were divorced).
I had another dude tell me he didn't have any kids, and two weeks later I found out that he had a pregnant ex girlfriend.
His excuse? "Well, you didn't ask."

And this past weekend, apparently I made another grievous error. I went out to a club with my lovely lady friends, we ended up joining in with some gentlemen there for a dude's bachelor party. There was one guy in particular who spent the entire evening flirting with me, dancing with me, and generally being rather touchy-feely. At the end of the night, he said "Yeah, sorry you got the wrong impression, but I'm engaged." Not sorry IF you got the wrong impression, sorry YOU GOT the wrong impression. Burden of truth: SHIFTED TO ME. Silly little woman, you thought the dude trying to rub his body all over you was available? Tsk tsk.

I told the dude "Hey, if you're engaged, you might not want to grind up on girls at the club. Just an idea [sarcastic jazz hands]. Also, I feel kind of sorry for your fiance." And then I tossed my hair and got the hell out of there before I burst into furious tears. I felt embarrassed and angry and like I had made a huge error in judgment. But then my friends assured me that, no, our flirtation WAS NOT all in my head. I had witnesses to the fact that he had been CLEARLY pursuing me and chatting me up. AND, I remembered later, when the DJ said "All the single people put ya hands up!" HE PUT HIS HANDS UP.

But his douchey "Sorry you got the wrong impression" comment had made me feel like it was somehow MY FAULT that I didn't know he was engaged. Because The Lie of Omission is sneaky and manipulative.

Are you engaged? has now been added to my list of questions. Because I don't care how ridiculous I'm going to appear as long as it means that I have some defense against The Lie of Omission. There won't be another "Well, you didn't ask" situation if I can help it. So help me, I WILL ASK.
Because the best defense against manipulative douchebaggery? Being one step ahead of the douchebags.

Potpourri: Recently

Today marks one month since I started my new job. And can I just point out that from an external perspective of someone who perhaps doesn't know me that well or read my blog, it might appear that I graduated, took my test, and WHABAM had a job within days. I'm thinking of reframing my memories and living in THAT reality. Because I am still pretty excited that I have this job.
This is my last week of training before I go solo with my responsibilities next week. I am nervous. I told my sister that and she said "Eh, don't worry. In six months you'll feel like you've been there your whole life."
Thankssss.... ?
I really like my job, so far. There are some quirky things about it that I particularly enjoy and since I'm not going to talk about my patients (hi HIPAA!), I'll share them:
- You can't eat anywhere except the conference room and there are usually people working or having a meeting in there. So a couple times a day I open the door, step in and stand there awkwardly eating my emergencheese (the cheese sticks I carry in my pockets for emergencies. GET IT? Emergencheese for emergencies!). People sometimes ask "Uh. Did you need something?"
- There is a passcoded, locked door that opens to, no joke, a six foot drop into the street. It's not a loading dock. It's not an exit. Or, at least it's not an exit NOW. It might have been one at some point when they were planning to build stairs.
- My office is the size of a stall shower. I actually like it. It's more of a nook. It doesn't have a door. With a six foot drop or otherwise.

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I went to Hawaii. HOT TIP: If your best friend says "Hey, I wanna go to Hawaii in March. You should come." You really should. Evidence:

The cool thing about the time difference is getting to the beach at 7AM when it is EMPTY.

We are SERIOUS about our sun protection. I don't stay this lily white by accident.

Gabey liked the pool best.

We snorkeled. I had to forcefully talk myself down from having a panic attack because SNORKELING IS FUCKING SCARY what with all the listening to my own heavy loud breathing and seeing the sandbar drop off into giant chasms and having to adjust my mask in the open ocean and swim back to shore AGAINST THE TIDE.

We got the feeling that people thought we were a couple on vacation with our adopted son. Because the first thing you think when you see two women and one kid together is never, 'Ah. They must be friends.'

I found a flower THE SIZE OF MY HEAD.

We swam, we lounged about, we got lost in our books, we loosely supervised Gabriel at the pool while he made friends with other kids and turned into a fish, we had fancy drinkies, we ate lots of chips and salsa.

I'd say that about sums it up.

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Last weekend somebody asked me what I would buy if I had $500 to spend at Target. "Only at Target, though." he stipulated, as if that might slow me down. "Groceries!" I said, "New sheets! Nice towels! Bins for organizing my things! Packing tape! Wait... this makes me sound really boring. I don't care! Laundry detergent!" Best game ever.

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Unrelated to any of the above: I bought myself a jackelope for Easter.

I got it from a flea market! Just kidding. It's from Modcloth. Sigh. That would have been the MOTHER of all flea market finds, wouldn't it?

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I've found that I can basically get one productive task done per day after I get home from work. One day is cooking. One day is laundry. One day is vacuuming. One day is paying bills. One day is buying groceries. Today's task was blogging.

Throwback(?) Accent Vlog

(Sometimes I say words a certain way because it's fun.)

Regional Dialect Video Meme
Say these words: Aunt, Route, Wash, Oil, Theater, Iron, Salmon, Caramel, Fire, Water, Sure, Data, Ruin, Crayon, Toilet, New Orleans, Pecan, Both, Again, Probably, Spitting image, Alabama, Lawyer, Coupon, Mayonnaise, Syrup, Pajamas, Caught
Now answer these questions:
• What is it called when you throw toilet paper on a house?
• What is the bug that when you touch it, it curls into a ball?
• What is the bubbly carbonated drink called?
• What do you call gym shoes?
• What do you say to address a group of people?
• What do you call the kind of spider that has an oval-shaped body and extremely long legs?
• What do you call your grandparents?
• What do you call the wheeled contraption in which you carry groceries at the supermarket?
• What do you call it when rain falls while the sun is shining?
• What is the thing you change the TV channel with?

Worky Weeky

First week at work and GAH. Work is hard! Not just the work itself. But it's been about four years since I had one of these all day every day full time all year long jobbers and, oof, it is taking some getting used to.
I am the tired.
I don't know how you people do it.
That's right, I said 'you people.' What of it?

So uh. How's about I just post some photos of the outfits I've worn this week and we call it a post?


Monday:

Pants: Uhh Ross maybe? Or maybe a thrift store ages ago? Can't remember. Shirt: Marshalls. Cardigan: Target. Scarf: Timberland. Glasses: Zenni Optical.

Monday was Orientation day, in the main building of the Large Institution that umbrellas my Smallish Clinic. I was orienting with a whole crew of new employees, some medical, some not. So it was a lot of general information about policies and HIPAA and unions and safety. And they gave me a gym bag.

Tuesday:

Pants: Marshalls. Shirt: Marshalls. Cardigan: Target.

Tuesday was my first day in my actual clinic. I wore the same cardigan as Monday, because apparently I have a cardigan hole in my worky wardrobe. I also wore the COMFIEST SHIRT IN THE ENTIRE WORLD. It is loose and flowy and would be perfect for concealing the early stages of a pregnancy, should I ever have that need. On Tuesday it just concealed the early stages of eating too much.

Tuesday was also the day I learned that my clinic isn't as strict about certain things as the emails might have led me to believe. While the Large Institution has very specific dress policies, apparently at my clinic I can decide if I want to wear scrubs or businessy clothes. And they're not in a huge hurry to get me the uniform scrubs, so I can just wear the ones I have for now, if I want. I can also combine my break time and my lunch time into a sinfully long forty five minute stretch.

Wednesday:

Pants: Marshalls. Shirt: Marshalls. Cardigan: Marshalls. Sponsor of this post: Sadly not Marshalls.

I made Wednesday's pic a full-lengther so you can appreciate my shoes. I guess they maybe don't look as cute as they are in person, but they are indeed nice looking. And their nice-lookingness is also accentuated by how ridiculously comfortable they are. Ridiculously comfortable. They're also the perfect height, both in terms of heel (not TOO high, because come on), and in terms of, uh, whatever you call the top of your boots? They cover my ankles entirely and you can't see my socks, even when I sit down and cross my legs (this is a huge plus for the gal who likes to wear white athletic socks with everything). They're Aerosoles 'Motorcar' boots and I can't be bothered right now to find a link for them, but I bought them online and they are on sale now.


Today (Thursday):

Scrub pants: Dickies from some scrub store. Scrub top: Thrift Town. Thermal: Target. Sad-looking kitty: Bowie.

Yeah. I gave up on the whole businesswear business. Totally overrated.

Tomorrow: Purple Scrubs.
Also: Galoshes.

It has been rainy this whole week, which was fine when I was wearing my businessy clothes and Motorcars, but not so fine when I decided to wear my scrubs. So I wore my galoshes for the tromping through the rain from my car to work and then switcherooed into my sneakies. It was kind of annoying to carry something in addition to my purse, my satchel of important paperwork, and my lunch bag, so tomorrow I'm going to do the same thing, but this time bring my all the crazap I need to carry in my NEW GYM BAG. I need to start calling it something else, though.... Sneaker Bag? Worky Bag? I don't want people getting the wrong impression that I actually use the gym bag for the GYM. Just like I don't wear Yoga Pants, I wear Lounge Pants or Apartment Pants, lest I give anyone the mistaken impression that I actually do yoga in them.

Potpourri

In celebration/preparation for my new job, I went out and bought some new professionalish worky clothes. I figured that I would probably be wearing business casual plus a lab coat to work since that was what I had worn in most of my clinicals.

And then I found out that I'm actually going to be wearing scrubs to work.
So I went out and bought some cute new scrub tops... and then I found out that actually my workplace will be providing me with 5 sets of scrubs when I start and I'll have a 'scrub allowance' each year. Perhaps I need to quit going out and buying stuff before I have all the information, but, really, is that any way to live?
I was a teensy bit bummed at first, but I've made my peace with the idea of essentially wearing pajamas to work every day. And if I'm ever feeling like I want to dress things up a little I can always wear cute shoes or fun glasses. Plus, full disclosure, the new scrub tops that I bought were actually from the thrift store and only $3 each, so it wasn't a huge loss. I'll keep them, because I might need them someday.
AND I won't have my new scrubs for at least the first couple of days at work so I AM going to wear my new professionalish clothes on those days. Which means they're basically paying for themselves, or at least that's what I'm telling myself.

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I also bought a new hat. I LOVE how it looks on my accessories shelf:

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I also bought a new wireless mouse. On a related note, can somebody come over and make my wireless mouse talk to my computer? I've gone as far as I can in terms of following the directions, and now I'm stumped and they're still not speaking.

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After leaving my recent clothing purchases on the table for about a week, I decided that it was time to make some room in the closet by culling my pantular wardobe. I've been going through and getting rid of all the pants that refuse to zip and fit me like this:

There are a lot of them. Apparently it's been awhile since I've needed new worky pants.

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Also in the spirit of doing things I've been putting off and soon might not have time for, I got a haircut. I went to the esthetics and cosmetology school because it is only $25 and I had been before and liked it. And they didn't shame me when they found out that I hadn't gotten a haircut since last January.
Here's the before:

And after:

Yeahh, I guess it doesn't look like a HUGE difference. Mainly the bottom picture just looks like my hair has been combed. You'll have to trust me that they took off about 4 inches and I'm feeling rather lightheaded now. Literally, I mean: my head feels lighter.

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My pre-employment chest X ray (which I had to get to prove that I don't have TB) said that my heart is "unremarkable." RESPECTFULLY SIR, I DISAGREE.

Employed

So.
I got a job.

I GOT A JOB!!!

I applied and had an interview and then I took (AND PASSED, ahem) my board exam and then I had a second interview and then I went out of town to visit my sister and while I was there they called and offered me the job!

I'm a little nervous to mention it on here because, as we know, I'm a tad leery of the Universe and my recent smitings. I guess that's partly why I've been hesitant to even BELIEVE that it's true. The day they called and offered it to me I told a few people and they seemed more excited than I was. Jenny actually had to talk me down off a metaphorical ledge numerous times. I kept thinking that something would happen and they'd call me back and tell me it was a mistake. And then they DID call me back and tell me that there was an issue and I felt like okay, here it comes. But then the issue turned out to be not a big deal at all and the manager was just calling to verify everything with me. And so then after I hung up with him I ran into the garage and yelled to my sister "HEY! I HAVE A JOB!" She was like, "I... I know? I've been excited all day and you haven't for some reason!"
And now my new workplace has been sending me emails and paperwork, HR has contacted me about my sign-up meeting, and I have my pre-employment health screening set for Friday. It's looking more and more real.
This is the kind of job I wanted, but almost didn't dare to hope for because the other interviews that I have had were for much less ideal situations.
It's at a small clinic that is part of a larger healthcare organization. The people who work there all seem nice. I'll have training and support and orientations and classes.
I start in March. At my job.
I need to buy some more scrubs. For my job.
I have to get a lock for my locker at work because I have a job.
I GOT A JOB.
A job. For me. Happy. Yes. Job.

Vacation

Oh hai. I've been on vacation. Both literally and internettily.

I had been itching to get out of town and I had just passed my board exam, so I jumped on a cheap fare to fly out and visit my sister. I left for the airport on Valentine's Day, unintentionally dressed like a Valentine.

Not the best day for pink to be your favorite wearing-color.

I discovered that Valentine's Day is actually a great day to travel. There was barely a line at security, and I got a pat-down (which I requested instead of going through the creepy new X ray machines) from the most polite and respectful TSA agent I have ever met. The gate agents were cracking jokes over the intercom. My flight was less than half full and the flight attendants were jovial and friendly. AND I got a free drinkie, courtesy of Southwest.

Definitely a better Valentine's present than last year.

My sister picked me up at the airport with a cooler of what may or may not have been more beverages. And thus began my awesome vacation. It has been filled with... well... mostly just hanging out. I visited a couple of friends who live nearby. I read two books. My sister and I have gone to lunch and gotten pedicures.
I also helped my sister do some organizing. We bought bins at Target and sorted the downstairs closet and cleaned up the kids' rooms. Yesterday, I was helping my niece with her homework while my sister was organizing the playroom. When I came in, I found this:

My nieces don't mess around when it comes to Breyer Horses.

"Did you do that?" I asked my sister.
"Yep," she said.
"Wow," I said, examining the shelves. "Hey wait a second! You just wanted to organize the playroom so you could play with the Breyer Horses!"
"Maybe..." she said.
I was really just sorry I had missed it.

I've also gotten to spend lots of quality time with my nieces, which has been great. I've watched them at their martial arts and vaulting and riding classes (they have the coolest hobbies). We did some baking and cooking projects.

I've picked them up from school and helped them with their homework (sort of). We've cuddled up with the dogs and watched movies. I've laughed with them and given them lots of hugs and I've noticed that the more I get to hang out with my nieces, the more I realize just what interesting, funny, beautiful, creative, smart, amazing people they are.

I'm leaving tomorrow, which is fine. I'm not in a hurry to get back, but I guess my vacation has to end sometime. I've gotten to do basically everything I wanted to while I was here. I didn't want shop or go to the movies or visit the Usual Neat Places that people tend to flock to in town. I just wanted to enjoy spending time with my loved ones, being in a different environment from home, and not having to study. Check.

I also got to take a pony for a walk.

Not their pony, a pony at the barn.

Bonus.

Success

My hands were shaking so hard, it's surprising that the picture is in focus. I started shaking after I clicked 'End' to finish my test and then I don't think I stopped until after I skipped all the way home. I high-fived the proctor at the testing center after she pointed out that my paper said 'Congratulations,' which meant that I had passed. I PASSED! I PASSED MY TEST ON THE FIRST TRY! I STUDIED MY ASS OFF AND THE UNIVERSE DIDN'T SMITE ME AND I PASSED!

I passed my board exam.
I am now, officially, a nationally certified NP.
I am currently drinking champagne and wearing a tiara.
And it feels damn good.

notes

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.

Spot on.

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

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

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

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

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

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.