The veggies were nestled, all snug in their beds...

Apparently, there's a frost advisory for tonight.  And I'm a dork and heeding it.

Tonight's weather forecast is calling for a low of 33 degrees in the world's best climate otherwise known as San Clemente.  I don't know about you, but any climate where I can see a bit of ocean from my patio (if I'm standing on my planter and looking at the right angle) or ride to it on my bike in less than 10 minutes AND has to tolerate an occasional frost advisory is not the world's best climate.  Pretty awesome?  Maybe.  Almost favorite?  Close.  World's best?  You're smoking crack.

And so, in my brand new boots that I just bought with Christmas $$$ (if you think about a possible purchase at least twice a day for almost a week straight and it's reasonably priced, you just go ahead and pick it up- it'll be worth it) and my new Roxy jacket (I paced around Hobie Sports for about 20 minutes trying to talk myself out of it and failed) I headed out into the garden with some old sheets and towels.  The lettuce patch, the cucumber, my two potted plumerias and any potted herbs and cherry tomato plants that could fit under the plumerias are now covered and armed against frost.  

I can't wait for the Tall One to get home and see the patio.  He's already pretty much convinced I'm insane, this will push me over the edge.  But I'm providing food!!!  This is how I rationalize my behavior.

And, I predict a 60 degree inside the house temperature in the morning.  Stay tuned...

Christmas cheer, brought to you by...

So, I just told off a rude customer at Starbucks.

I know, just when I'm starting to get a handle on smarting off and having patience, I regressed.

I was at my local Starbucks to get my new fave- Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha.  It's a busy Sunday morning and there is a line to the door and wrapping through the merchandise area.  There are only 2 registers, the one I'm ordering at and one occupied by a woman wearing a bright red fleece, brown hair piled up on her head and she's berating what turned out to be the manager.  Apparently, she was wanting to purchase something that had an incorrect price tag.  When she was informed of the mistake, she hit the roof- she wanted the tagged price, it's against the law to do what you're doing, I'm calling corporate.  She's the poster child for bad people that have learned to pitch a 4-yr old fit and call corporate offices with their complaints knowing full well the offices will throw product or discounts at her and make her feel like a million bucks because they want her to a) shut up and go away because she's an annoying pestilence and b) they want to keep people happy.  

In the time it took for me to walk in, wait for two people to order, place my order and pay, and then pick up my drink- this woman was monopolizing this register.  And she wasn't being Christmasy.  I take offense to this.  And besides, the staff at this 'Bucks is so nice, I was mad at her for being rude to them.  Cue up the vigilante response!!!

While I was walking out, she stomped out right in front of me.  I couldn't take it anymore.  I told her in the most disarmingly sweet and charming voice, "Thank you so much for clogging up the line just so you could be insolent!"  Wince.

That pile of a woman whirled around and looked at me and said, "Ex-cuse me?"  So I told her again the exact same thing in the same tone of voice, smiled and walked away.  She called after me and told me no problem, anytime.  

The best part is: I really don't think she knew what insolent meant.  I'm sure she knew I had insulted her in front of a line of strangers by calling her out and using the words "clogging the line", but she looked a little confused and insolent isn't exactly a word people use a lot.  My greatest hope is that when she got home, she googled "insolent" and found out its true meaning.

And deep down, I feel triumphant.  She's never going to change, she's always going to be that sort of person.  But, I got to use an intelligent word, used it properly, and hopefully made her think.  Kill 'em with knowledge!!!!!

And that's why I like big words.  They make stupid people a little bit more aware of their stupidity.

I'm a jerk.  

Please don't make me shake hands...

I have a confession.

I really don't like shaking hands with people when I walk into church.

It's really one of the only things that makes me cringe about Saturday nights (when we go to church).  Every week, there is the nicest, nicest person greeting everyone coming in for the service.  They give you a warm, genuine smile... and then put out their hand to shake yours.  Eeeek.

It's such an inviting and friendly gesture.  And yet, ALL I can think about is how many people walked in before me and shook that same hand and what had that person been doing before they walked in? Did they use the bathroom before coming to church and did they bother to wash their hands?  Is it a stereotypical south OC family with 2-4 kids, half of which are carrying at least 3 cold viruses each?  Does that person up there think he's over the flu and feels up for church but is still coughing and sniffling?  These are the things I think about!!!!  And it's awful!!!!  And it's all nursing school's fault!!!!!!

I've tried lots of things to avoid "the shake".  I've tried looking freezing (easy to do lately), cramming my hands underneath crossed arms and looking like I can't even take them out for a shake.  Didn't work last night.  I still got the hand and a reassuring, "Don't worry, it's nice and warm inside."  Sheesh.  I've tried to slide in with a large family hoping that the greeter won't see me, but those guys are like greeter Jedis- no man left ungreeted!  About the only thing that consistently works is fumbling around in my excessively large hippie sack that masquerades as a purse and looking very absorbed in it.

I know.  I'm a mean person.  Sigh.

Thank goodness for the small bottle of Purell.

Home of the gnome.

"Help- I'm mired in a forest of mint!"

You and your music must leave. Now.

Bob Marley- Legend

you play it loud all day long

bought from BMG?

I'm three days into reconnecting with life since taking my final.  In that span of time, I have cleaned the house, Christmas-shopped, made a fabulous Moroccan chicken & couscous soup, ran 8.5 miles and today, the depth of my hatred for my socially inept and foul-mouthed neighbor plunged to a new, unprecedented low.  This afternoon, he decided to play my absolute total favorites, Bob Marley and John Mayer, so loud that it was shaking the pictures on my wall, making the walls audibly vibrate and could be heard from every corner of MY house.  After throwing a sandal, my shoe, and then winding up and kicking the wall... I finally decided to go over and tell him how annoying he was.  He answered the door with his toddler running buckwild in the background, a beer in hand and Bob chanting down Babylon for all of north San Clemente to hear.  I told him, "Yeah, I live next door and..." and he interrupted me and said, "Aww, sorry is my music too loud, like shaking the wall and stuff?"  

Seriously, who ARE you???  

Out of all the signs of your music being too loud, it took me coming over and uttering the first clause of a sentence for it to register?  Not only am I now utterly convinced the guy is a douchebag, he's an idiot- when your neighbor comes over to tell you just how loud you're being and you cut them off and ask if you're being too loud (thereby hitting the nail square on the head), that's either guilt or intent.  Or total stupidity. 

Since I have lot of time on my hands, rather than brushing up on my cardiac dysrhythmias, I'm writing haiku.  In honor of my crap for brains neighbor.

Waiting on the world

and your defunct hearing sense

to change, work again

(I've now heard this song three times this afternoon.  Three.)

Thank you for ruining

the best band in the world for

me, Led Zeppelin, sad

Every rose has its

thorn, shockingly I do too

it's you and your life

Ah, smells like brushfire

are the hills burning again?

no, it's your grill... again

And yes, I am 12.  Thank you for wondering.

I heard the fight last

night, lots of f-words were said

need better vocab

Thanks for taking charge

when the car crash woke all up

but it was wrapped up...

BEFORE YOU GOT THERE!!!!!!!!

The Great Wet South.

I'm handing it to our latest storm- it might be making legitimate Storm Watch status.  It's been raining all day and it's absolutely arctic outside.  I just checked out weather.com and was given this status update for San Clemente: Rain, temp- 48, feels like 42.  42?????? We pay waaay to much money to live in a semi-arid climate to endure 42-degree rainy weather.  

But if sub-50 daytime weather has taught us anything, it's where those drafts we keep feeling are coming from.  The sliding glass door.  And the front door.  And our bedroom windows.  They're from the same year I was born, rattle with the wind and once you get within 2ft of them, you can start to feel the cold creeping in from them.  We're now keeping the curtains and blinds shut in an effort to repel the cold.  And since we hate the earth, our thermostat is set at 70.  Green this, I'm cold!!!  I do feel guilty for whining about the cold though.  My mom is shivering away in Colorado where the high the over the weekend was minus 15.  Whatever, I'm still freezing.

I started Christmas shopping yesterday.  I got to the mall about 10:30 or so and had a pleasant time.  I stayed away from Macy's and their snooty saleswenches and lurked around The Gap (thanks to the Gap for 50% off on my jeans and 2 scarves for $10 each!!!), Crate and Barrel, and BBBWorks.  While in the Gap dressing room trying on my jeans, my mom called.  I managed to get it out of her that they would like some See's peanut brittle.  I had just navigated through the throng of soon-to-be-diabetics throwing they're hard-earned money at Mrs. See while going into the Gap and was horrified at the thought of braving the line.  So I decided to get there "right when they open". That way, I can get in line, buy my pound of brittle and be gone.  Mall opens at 10am, right?  WRONG. Apparently, the mall opened at 8am.  So, the line was already 8 people deep in the store itself- 7 poor souls stuck behind some woman in sweats picking out a 2lb. custom box of chocolates one agonizing flavor at a time while cramming her free sample in her face at the same time.  Merry Christmas!!!!  Thankfully, See's forsees the inevitable riot and puts their pre-made boxes outside, kind of like an express lane.  Until the chick I was stuck behind today reaches the register.  I actually was third in line behind this woman, but the two in front of me gave me a sorrowful look when I asked if they were in line.  I think they'd been there a while.  This woman proceeded to send the cashier all over the mall grabbing boxes and boxes of chocolate.  $230 later, she somehow trucked all that sugar out of our way.  Merry Christmas!!!!

I've also got a new addiction- sparkling water.  No flavors, no additives, just CO2 and water.  It all started with a bottle of Arrowhead sparkling water after our martini party on Saturday.  And now it's all I can think about.  Yesterday, after bible study, I made the excuse to stop and buy a bottle of Perrier because gas was $1.69/gallon and how could I pass THAT up?  Today, after housecleaning, I promptly walked out the house, drove up the street to Sears and found plastic bottles of Pellegrino on sale for $1.25.  I bought 4.   And that first taste, all fizzy and ice cold- I take a big gulp and it's sooo good.  So good once it touches your lips...

At what point should I be worried?

Risk Factor Central.

My last week in OB has been a week, I'll start off with that.

Monday, I was spared the wrath of the aminotic fountain because I was put on the antepartum unit- where you take care of patients that have no business being in labor, so if you want to avoid seeing a birth it's a pretty good place to be.  They threw a postpartum patient at us, just to keep it mixed up and to remind me that the only other time I want to be on a postpartum unit is as a patient.  Not any time soon of course.  Anyway, I was surrounded by twins.  Two moms keeping their twin buns in their ovens, another mom going home with her twins- that's enough to scare me into tubal ligation.  Anyway, antepartum is nice, but I'll be moving on.  We'll mark it under the list of "Areas of nursing that wouldn't cause me to go on a vicious rampage if I was forced to work there".  

(Total side note: I like how the local 5pm NBC news anchorwoman didn't even give the disgraced Illinois governor's name anything remotely related to a try, she just referred to him as the governor of Illinois. Quitter!!!!!)

After celebrating being clinically done with OB by consuming 1/3 of a BJ's Pizza combo appetizer platter, wings and pizzookie, lecture was somewhat of a letdown.  Things were kicked off on a happy note this morning with the appearance of our professor next semester for Advanced Nursing.  Like I wasn't already nauseated by the fact that in 5 months I will be graduating nursing school and heading out into the wide world of actual nursing, now this guy shows up and scares the becrappers out of me about next semester and then exits with a "Have a nice holiday and enjoy your break!"  ???  Four weeks off isn't NEARLY enough at this point...

And then lecture just picked up the ball and kept running.  Today, I learned that I may already have an increased risk for breast cancer purely because 1) I haven't had any kids, 2) I've delayed having kids until my 30's (something I consider socially responsible given the fact that I was a loose cannon in my 20's and NOT MARRIED, little things like that... and this is how I'm rewarded???), 3) I use birth control, 4) I've never breastfed and 5) little unalterable things like I'm white and female.  Oh, and I also found out that 1 or more alcoholic drinks a day is considered excessive.  It was an uplifting 10 mintues.  I then learned that should this be part of my future, mastectomy would be recommended for me because my, ahem, "assets", are not as sizeable as most.  After waltzing through other cancers and disorders of the reproductive system, we wrapped up class with a photo essay of sexually transmitted diseases.  I almost threw up in my mouth at least twice.  If you'd like to know how they used to diagnose bacterial vaginosis, email me.  The difference between you and me is that you aren't required to know this; I, on the other hand, may be tested on this in 5 days. 

And if that doesn't top it all, I can't even get a straight answer on how many questions will be on my final.  This is crucial so I can calculate just how hard I have to study over the next 5 days. I've been told that it will be at least 75 points, but I prefer to calculate precisely.  And I can't right now.  And that pretty much sums up my class.  

Five more days, five more days...

Life in the retirement home.

This little gem here earned me a hefty dose of ridicule from the Tall One.  

I like jigsaw puzzles.  My parents learned early on that I liked these and would give them to me as gifts.  It was like gold for them, they could give me one at Christmas and they wouldn't hear from me until June.  A good friend of mine has a tradition where she and her family get Christmas puzzles and put them together.  I think that's awesome!  So, I went to Borders on Friday with my 20% off coupon and bought me a puzzle.

I came home, turned on some holiday tunes and went into the puzzle zone.  Until the Tall One came downstairs.  He stopped on the stairs and said, "What are you, a senior citizen?!?"  I told him, no, I like puzzles, they're fun.  He then told me, "Puzzles are what people do in retirement homes, when there is nothing else to do."

Sigh.

Whatever, I finished it the next morning.  While sorting through the sky and eating cereal, I heard the sound of Christmas music (not from our house!) outside and looked out our kitchen window.  There was a fire-engine red Suburban with a sleigh on top, blaring music, and a load of high schoolers proceeded to pile out.  They just kept coming.  And then they walked up to our front door.  I was dumbfounded.  They obviously knocked and when I answered the door, I was met with a carol, a plate full of these:

and a reading of the Christmas story from Luke 2.  We had been sneak-attacked by some of the Compass Bible Church high schoolers handing out treats to thank volunteers.  It was pretty funny.  I was proud of myself for just opening the door...

I'm coming down to 1 week to go until my final.  Has that done much to motivate me to study for my final?  No!!!!!!!  I'm finding lots of things to fill the time.

I'm a moonshiner!!!  Not really.  But I am making limoncello.  For the second straight holiday, I've been inundated with recipes on how to make your own lemon liqueur, so I went for it.  In that Trader Joe's juice jug is 4 CUPS of vodka and the rind of 7 lemons minus the white pithy part.  It's been marinating in a cool quiet place for 1 week now, and it's got 1 more to go.  After that, I'll add a heap of sugar, heat it up,  let it cool and then pat myself on the back even if it tastes awful.

And we got our tree.  I pretty much have to drag the Tall One out every year (for the whole two years we've celebrated Christmas together), all the while saying Christmas like the crazy chainsmoking neighbor in Better Off Dead:

 Better Off Dead is quite possibly one of the best 80's films and my favorite John Cusack movie, but moving on...

I like this picture because the way it's shot, our tree looks mini compared to the Tall One, and he looks incredibly too large for the inside of our place- kind of like anybody besides a hobbit in a hobbit house.  Did I just go Lord of the Rings geek?  Yeah!!!!!  Anyway, our tree kind of leans, kind of like our wedding cake last year.

And my new pride and joy:

I made wreaths!!!!  I stoked out the Christmas tree guys at Lowe's by asking if I could have the scraps, thereby relieving them of some work and giving me the bulk of my supplies to get crafty.  I got some floral wire, pinecones and other doohickies to make them pretty.  I then proceeded to turn on the holiday tunes, crack open a little bottle of my favorite Australian ginger beer and churn out 3 wreaths.  My fingertips are now ridiculously tender, but it was worth it.  CRAFTY!!!!!!!

And now, I'm sitting at home while Laker-time rolls on downstairs, trying to wind down and try and go to bed in about an hour and a half because I have my LAST OB clinical day tomorrow.  Amen.  I was shown divine mercy last week when clinical was canceled last week, but having two weeks without clinical is making it really hard to get my act together and get ready for tomorrow.  Thankfully, it'll be a short one and then we'll go out and have a nice late lunch together and be done with it.  Overall, this clinical was fairly painless.

But if I get showered with amniotic fluid and sludge tomorrow, I'm going on a rampage.