Possible name change?

I'm becoming more convinced that perhaps I need to rename my blog: "Things I Wish I Could Say About Things I Read On Facebook, But Since Total Alienation Isn't Fun, I Will Blog About It Since No One Reads This Anyway."

Today, I saw somebody respond to an apparently dumb question with an equally dumb question, "Is that a question?"

Sigh.

I had to do the typing version of "bite my lip", which is in fact pointing my fingers in the opposite direction of the keyboard while having an internal conversation with my brain cells that want me to unleash torrents of sarcasm (that conversation can be concisely summarized as "shut up!").

But really, what I wanted to say in response to the exchange was that given the use of the question mark at the end of the sentence and the inquiring nature of the words, yes, that was in fact a question, according to standard grammatical and punctuation usage rules and regulations. Whatever those may be. And clearly the user has a firm grasp of the concept of the question because the answer was also in question form. What is this, Jeopardy?

And now, I have displayed my personal grasp of the concept of the question. And with that, my job is done here.

Let's leave the Bible out of this, OK?

Get a load of this douchebag.

This guy is the leading figure of a project that is re-translating the Bible because it is too "liberal" and needs to be reworked for "contemporary conservative sensibilities". Apparently, he and some other exhaustingly annoying and overly pious political types are fed up with the Bible containing things that "the liberals" put in, such as Jesus praying "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do" as the book of Luke states.

Sigh.

My favorite quote of this story is from the square pictured above, explaining why this translation had to happen: "Professors are the most liberal group of people in the world, and it's professors who are doing the most popular modern translations of the Bible."

Wow. Really? This is driving the push for a new translation? And I'm supposed to disregard most versions of the Bible as I have read it and learned it- just because you're playing the political name game and you think liberals changed the Bible to fit their agenda??? This isn't freaking health care reform, it's God's Holy Word!!! Show some respect...

I should also add that this translation is done in a Wikipedia type format, with lots of everyday, amateur translators disgruntled with "the liberals" and those other educated types, the ones that spend most of their waking hours reading and deciphering ancient manuscripts, also known as "experts in their field". Because Wikipedia and its format of allowing people to edit information has clearly made it the most reliable source of information. Um, there's a reason I wasn't allowed to EVER use Wikipedia as a source in any assignment in nursing school.

I generally consider myself a conservative on most topics, but this makes me embarrassed to admit it- saying I'm conservative aligns me with idiots like this. And I'm OK with Christianity being "unpopular", but don't make us look like morons. I'm not a moron. But I'm pretty sure this guy couldn't find his ass with a road map, compass AND a GPS system.

Let's leave the Bible alone, people. This goes beyond the reach of "If it ain't broke, don't fix it". I fear eternal damnation for messing with the Bible.

Pinch me.

So, while sitting at the red light waiting to get on the freeway to come home from work, it hit me.

I stinking love my job.

I mean, I get to work 3 nights a week, I learn something new EVERY single time, AND I get paid for it. Good grief, this is awesome!

It's been a long time since I could say I loved my job. It's kind of weird, but I can definitely get used to it.

Chrissssst-maaaaas!

Just to make me happy, and because it has less swearing than the clip I really want to put on here, which is when Eddie is dumping the RV tanks on National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation.

Sing it Jose!

I may roll my eyes at all the Christmas furor going on all around (it's not even Thanksgiving yet, people, give poor Thanksgiving a break!!!), but deep down, I'm hyped.

I love Christmas. Love it. Love it. Love. It.

I just bought my first Christmas gift today and I'm amping because my dad is gonna love it and better yet he has no idea I'm getting it for him. Of course, he thinks I'm buying him a $250 power drill (?!?) but since that is equivalent to almost one whole shift's salary- I think this will be a great substitute.

I've been fighting the Christmas music spirit but I just gave in. I kicked off Christmas Music Nausea with "Feliz Navidad" and now I'm hooked. The Boss is now singing "Santa Claus Is Coming To Town" just to me. Damn straight he's coming to town!! You better be good for goodness' sake!

There's no stopping me now. It's cookies and homemade liqueurs (cranberry liqueur anyone?) and decorations and trees and lights from here until after New Year's.

Man, do I love the holidays.

It's getting kicked to the curb after New Year's anyway.

I'm officially over the annual ruckus over Christmas tree vs. the nefarious Holiday tree.

It's... a... tree. A cut off one, at that.

I don't care what kind of tree it is- the only thing dictating if I buy a Christmas tree or a Holiday tree is how much it costs. Don't care what the president calls it, don't care what evangelicals demand it be called, and I certainly don't care what some agnostic stick-in-the-mud wants it to be called because I'm calling it a Christmas tree and I won't correct you if you call it otherwise.

Seriously, I'm fatigued by the whole thing. Is there really nothing else to be fired up about that we have resorted to having a naming contest about the largest, most overpriced temporary potted plant ever to get lit up, decorated and tossed within a month?

Society as a whole puzzles me. But that's for another time...

It's a conspiracy.

I've just completed 3 nights in a row. I have until 9pm tomorrow to complete the open enrollment for my benefits from work. I just did this 2 months ago, but because the hospital has decided to sell our health off to the lowest bidder, I now have to make all my selections again. When I did this before, I filled out a form and turned it in. Now, it's all online. Usually, this would make me happy.

Well, it's not. And even more so after 3 nights of work.

Apparently, the site to carry out my enrollment only supports Internet Explorer 6.

@#$%. Microsoft strikes again. Damn you people, this is the reason I went to Mac in the first place! You've convinced the entire business world that Microsoft/Windows/IE is the only option out there. Some of us have managed to see the light and break on through to the brighter side. And we're being punished for it.

When will the Mac-cism cease?!? I am being discriminated against because the operational system I chose is superior and far more functional!

If I didn't need it to freaking sign up for health insurance, and maybe if it wasn't on indefinite loan from a friend, the Dell upstairs would tossed off the Capo Beach bluffs in about 5 minutes.

Heck no, I am not a PC.

Radness.

Headline from the BBC News website:

"Messenger spies iron on Mercury"

Iron, huh? You don't say. Was it a steam iron? Did it have adjustable fabric settings? Are you sure it wasn't a 9 iron? Perhaps a 7. I know- primitive life on Mercury played golf in fantastically wrinkle-free clothes while sweating the life out of themselves.

That totally explains it.

I love this headline if only for the reason that I can make up any different story how I want to fit that headline. BBC must have a rule of "5 words or less" when it comes to their headline grabbers, because half the time I guess as to what the article is about. And for that, my imagination would like to extend a hearty thank-you.

This is the Benadryl speaking, I will be heading off to bed shortly to recover from my outrageous night of work. What a night...

Um, wow?

I just read in my latest issue of Better Homes & Gardens (nerd alert... and yeah! awesome!) that the hottest non-edible alcohol-containing product is Purell. It's popular for its 60% alcohol content. Apparently, parents are now supposed to add this to the list of common household items that can be abused for their liquor.

*in a whisper* Um, isn't this just natural selection at its finest?

Or is that too harsh?

Clearly, I don't have kids.

Have some cheese with the whine...

I'm half falling asleep while typing this AND I'm super bitter because there is so much crap flying around about this that it's all I can do to bite my lip and keep from screaming.

So I'll just put it like this.

If I hear one more conspiracy theory about the flu vaccine, especially the H1N1 flu vaccine, or any other vaccine for that matter, I'm going to projectile vomit on to the person speaking. So over it. I heard someone say that they refuse to take anything "pushed by the government". I thought everyone loved the government these days, seeing as we have a brand new president and all. What if the president said he got the flu shot? Would that be cool enough to convince the haters? I so badly want to tell people to stop buying into the hype and lies and direct them towards a solid reputable organization like the CDC but hey! They're pretty much government too! Can't trust those government people!!!!

And you know, it's not even so much about just not getting the flu. What about not getting the flu so that you aren't a vector for infection? How about doing something to make sure you don't spread your sickness to others that maybe can't take it as well as you?

You know what? Fine. Forgo all vaccines, ruin decades of herd immunity and allow the return of awful, awful diseases that killed thousands of people every year. I bet a lot of those people and their families would've jumped at the chance to vaccinate against something if it had been available to them.

And if you still feel the need to be socially irresponsible and flip your nose at any sort of vaccine, do it because you've done the research from reliable, scientific sources. Don't do it because half of Hollywood says not to. Don't do it because your friend sent you a chain email crying wolf. Don't do it because you heard a vaccine has Agent Orange in it. Don't do it because you still think it will cause autism when the research is showing the opposite. Don't do it because you saw a YouTube video of someone that can only walk backwards because they got the flu shot. And my personal favorite- don't do it because you think it is the government's evil plot to depopulate the country. Really? Seriously? You believe that crap? I mean, have you seen half of Congress? Most of them are thinking with their livers or their crotches, not trying to conjure up ways to decrease their votes. And besides, given the fact that idiots and teenagers continue to reproduce at alarming and appalling rates (*ahem*, Jon and Kate... Octomom... every single teenager on MTV's 16 and Pregnant *cough, cough*), I don't think the country is under any sort of depopulation threat.

Don't ever, ever ask me what I think about vaccinations. We probably won't be friends again afterwards.

Bail out schools instead of business.

How unfortunate that my first blog in ages is me cranking about something. But it's just got to be said!!

So, with all this business about bailing out banks and auto makers and this and that, from what I can see, we should be more concerned with bailing out our schools because judging by the crap I read that people type and the things that come out of people's mouths- it would be money better spent.

I say this because everyday I'm on Facebook, I guarantee I count a minimum amount of five times that I see "you are" contracted into the misspelling of "your". For the umpteenth time, "your" is possessive, "you're" is a contraction of "you are". This fact is lost on countless people, and yet- didn't we learn this in elementary english?

But alas, this is not the target of my ire. Nor is it the capricious swap of then and than. Today, I read someone's comment and they used the phrase "leaning a pond God". Perhaps, this is more commonly known as "leaning upon God".

Leaning. A. Pond. Wow. Not only is this wrong, it doesn't even make sense!!!! I mean, I know what THEY mean, but really- did she even read her words to check that maybe they were borderline unintelligible in meaning?

Am I the only one going crazy here?!? Seriously, people say things all day long and yet when they commit them to print or type, THIS is the crap they think they are saying?!? And we wonder why our country has faded on the world stage- it's because our citizens talk like madness!!!

Sigh. I'm going to go lean my head UPON my pillow because I have a headache from the stupidity and the fact that I work tonight.

Tune in next time, where I will explain for all doctors to read the difference between castor oil and castrol oil and how one makes you poop and the other keeps your car running smoothly.

Love in our household.

The Tall One and I have very interesting ways of expressing our love for each other. In the interest of not making people vomit, I'll refrain from listing them all. However, the Tall One frequently shows his love by harassing me or giving me a hard time about things. In return, I like to loudly (and jokingly) state that he is not loving me like Christ loves the church. This usually inspires a more hearty display of the original action. And so on.

I never really thought much about my statement until I've recently noticed other people referring to their husbands and their actions as truly representing love as Christ loves the church. And they meant it.

And for the 1,567,392nd time, it hit me.

I'm a jerk.

Deep Thought For The Day

I'd love to bust out a Jack Handy quote from Deep Thoughts, but I really do have something nice to share.

My manager sends out these weekly notes and she gave the following tidbit in our last installment: Remember to enjoy this time of life whatever this you are at.

I'm going to let my inner grammar wizard stay away from this one because I get what she's saying and I totally agree.

For me, this is learning how to be a night shift RN and still have enough in me to live life on my days off. Yesterday, I was pretty much a pile and only had about 2hrs of sleep inbetween Friday at 5pm and Saturday 5pm, which is funny when you realize church started at 5pm yesterday. I don't remember a whole lot. I think it was good. But then I pretty much slept about 10 hours last night without waking up. It felt good, but I'm still not motivated for today.

And I work tomorrow night.

So, I'm trying to enjoy the weirdness of my life right now. The oddity of leaving for work when most people are ending their work. Walking out for a break at midnight and it feeling nice and cool out. That funky window of time between 3:00-5:00am when my eyes feel like they want to explode out of my face. Going to bed at 9 or 10am and PRAYING I can sleep until 4 or 5pm. Not physically seeing the Tall One from Wednesday morning until Saturday morning. I should, given my track record, be freaking out on this. But mostly I'm totally amused by the whole situation and just hoping it gets better.

What day is today?

Am I the only one?

So, does anything about the following headline grabber from BBC.com strike you as funny?

"Ancient Wall Found In Jerusalem."

Why I Went Into Nursing- Reason #752

My "work" attire is essentially monochromatic pajamas, drawstring pants and all.

And while I'm in the mood...

Good freaking heavens. This country is in dire, dire need of a grammar overhaul. I refuse to wade into the "lie, lay, lied, laid" waters (although I'd say that at my age, I've finally mastered who and whom), but a simple grasp of the proper use of "your" and "you're" would make things easier to read.

I realize that I just got done railing against people thinking it's all about themselves. While the proliferous abuse of you're/your bugs the @#$%! out of me on a DAILY basis, I know there are many that share my view. So therefore, this not about appeasing me and my grammar fetish. This is about being a literate member of society.

So, for the record, since about 98% of Facebook users miss this 99% of the time:

Your- is possessive, as in "your poor use of grammar", thereby highlighting you possess a poor use of grammar.

You're- is a contraction, a lovely English way of shortening words because "you are" is apparently 1 syllable to many to say, as in "you're an English language killer" which is 1 syllable short of the amount in the phrase "you are an English language killer". (In defense of the contraction- I do it all the time. I talk fast, contractions are almost a speech defense mechanism of my muscles trying to keep up with my thoughts.)

Bad days at work drive me to this.

Until next time, when I will tackle the egregious misuse of the triple whammy their/there/they're...

The 173rd edition of "It's Not All About You".

If I ever find out that someone I know is one of these pathetic imbeciles that calls 911 for something totally benign (yes, ALWAYS benign) like the sniffles, a headache or a toothache- I'm going to smack them across the face on both cheeks, kick them in the shins, verbally abuse them and then disown them as even an acquaintance- thereby giving them almost, ALMOST, plausible cause to utilize the 911 system.

The following are absolutely unacceptable reasons for using 911 for things similar to those listed above:

1) You don't have health insurance. 911 is not health care reform on speed dial.

2) You have the sniffles but you have a hot date/party/fishing trip/(insert totally unmissable event here). Try washing your hands more often if being sick interferes with your social life, because shockingly enough, hand washing is pretty effective in stopping the spread of infection. Who knew Semmelweis knew what he was talking about way back then?

3) Your tooth hurts? Call your DENTIST. Chances are, in this economy, he or she has some open spots in their schedule and can fit you in. Tooth pain may be excruciating, but it's NOT AN EMERGENCY!!!!!!

You may think something like these little things is the biggest emergency of your life. But when you're clogging up the system because you just think your sniffles are the most life-threatening case ever but some poor soul having a heart attack can't get through because your sorry ass can't handle snot- you're an idiot.

Dear 911-caller with a minor health problem: Let 911 save some real lives, while you go out and wonder where in the hell you left yours and how you can get it back. Signed- the shrinking minority of rational thinkers.

I'm not OK with this.

After 3 glasses of white, I feel I'm ready to spill my guts on church last night. It didn't settle well with me and 3/4 of the way through I shut my Bible and did the cross-armed stonewall.

I'm a little leery of guest speakers at church anyway, mostly because I'm noticing a trend towards only having speakers of the Master's College kind, and while that doesn't mean they're bad, I sense a fear of anything BUT Master's people. Just a little hint, people that go to those "inferior" places like Fuller and Talbot have some pretty good things to say, but I think that may be lost on this crowd.

So, last night was on the rapture, using the last chapter of 1 Thessalonians as home base. I was hanging in there until I was given the distinct impression that if I have any sin in my life that is being worked on, if it isn't resolved than I am not ready for the rapture.

And it was at this moment that I shut my Bible and crossed the arms. I was done after that.

I recognize that if I have a sin in my life, like, oh say, my IMPATIENCE, and I was not actively bringing it before God and eliminating it from my life, then yes, I agree. But to tell me or anybody that if they have something that they struggle against and bring it before God and do daily that if this is a problem then they are not "ready" for the rapture... I have to disagree. And I don't like it.

I thought I was alone until I mentioned it to a friend tonight and she let me know how she felt on that. It felt good not to be alone on it. Sometimes, I think my misgivings on some of these sermons is me being convicted of things in my own life and I'm just fighting it. But not on this one.

I've been feeling very rebellious (for lack of a better term) when it comes to things that are being said at this church sometimes. I chalk it up to me being slightly rebellious in all things and that this is just yet another item in a long list of things I need to work on. But I can't shake this. Not this one.

This church is awesome and I really, really enjoy the lead pastor. It's the "other" speakers that make me do the "golden retriever". You know, that look goldies give you where they prick their ears up, look at you all serious and cock their heads to one side.

If I'm way off base, somebody please tell me. And show me where in the Bible, because I need to know. But after all my years of Christian school, church and youth group, this just isn't resonating as familiar.

I go to church to learn, drink it in and occasionally get a butt kicking. I don't like walking away wondering if I heard something right.

What if that was my first night? What then?

The sunlight bores the daylights out of me.

Mick Jagger sang it many, many years ago and in about 3 weeks, it will apply to me. But not in an overstimulated, strung out rock star sort of way.

Unbeknownst and but much to my skin doctor's delight, I will starting night shifts a whole 2 weeks ahead of schedule. The week following Labor Day Weekend, I will be starting my first night job ever. I'm a little worried about this.

As someone who values her sleep and is physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, religiously attached to her sleep- this is going to be a tough one. I'll still be sleeping, but it will be in the middle of the day, in a house that is used to being lit up and active during the day when I'm home. Instead, when I'm home sleeping, this place will have to be stone silent.

This should be interesting. Especially when the Stair Slayer decides I should be paying attention to him when I should be sleeping. I will prevail. It's me vs. dog and I will win.

WIN!!!!!

Christian Buzz Word Overkill.

Sigh. Perhaps I'm just a little punchy after back-to-back day shifts but I have another astoundingly cynical observation to make.

Just so you know, if you include more than 3 Christian/churchy cliches or buzzwords in your Facebook update, I'm over it. Can't even finish the update to the end. No joke, I came across one today that had 5 of them. FIVE!!!

The cynic in me just doesn't see the need to be so... effusive. I'm all for giving all glory to God and it's more than due. But excessive combinations and wordings of things like, "brother/sister of the faith" and "example of Christ's love" don't come across as glory to me. It comes across as trying to sound super duper Christian-y and pious.

One or two? Awesome! In the spirit of things, Praise the Lord (or if you're into murdering the written English language- PTL)! But more than that? I think you're compensating for something. Say it, but don't go on and on and on. Because usually, you're not making sense because you're trying to force multiple cliches into one cohesive thought.

So in conclusion, I am not mocking your praise unto the Lord. I am appalled at your abhorrent sentence construction and wordiness. It exhausts me.

Crap, I need to sleep.

Not a friend of mine. Your's?

@#$% dog.

My first 2 weeks of real life nursing.

I love my job. How many people get to say that?!?

My first week was orientations and computer classes. Each day, we got out earlier than scheduled. By far the best day was the first, which was hospital orientation. They told us all about the hospital, its history, things like that. Their mission statement goes like this: "Our mission is to extend the healing ministry of Jesus in the tradition of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Orange by continually improving the health and quality of life of people in the communities we serve. Our vision is to care for the medically underserved, to create healthier communities, and to alleviate conditions which limit access to basic health services."

How's that? Their mission is to extend the healing ministry of Jesus?!? And I get to work here? So this is why no other hospitals were calling me or interviewing me. I'm supposed to be here.

Since I have a whole 2 days under my belt as a true RN (yikes!), I've learned a few things the last couple of days, but I realized a whole lot more. I give you the highlights:

-magically attached to my license (which is curiously the same size as a credit card, but without the benefits) is, I think, the ability to remember to do things when you're supposed to, like rotating boots that prevent foot drop and cleaning out someone's mouth every 4 hours when they're on a ventilator. I always wondered how I would remember. All I have to say is it's in the plastic.

-apparently, when everyone pitched a fit about BPH in plastic and they took it out, IV bags went from being nice and pliable and quiet to squeaky, loud and crinkly. Thanks a lot, like my patients needed something else to wake them up. Oh wait, they're heavily sedated and totally unresponsive... you're lucky on this one, that's all I got to say.

-in my first conversation with a doctor on the floor, it was a neurosurgeon, he was nicer than nice and when I told him my patient was swelling like a tick because of his excessive IV intake and could I take his IV fluid rate down a notch, he wrote me orders to fix it. I was scared to do this in school?!? Which leads me to...

-as soon as you're not in freaking all-white nursing school scrubs, you are seen in a different light. Almost like you're part of "the club". It's awesome! I've had 2 doctors just talk to me and ask me questions about my patient and not only did I answer them correctly, they believed me! I'm not kidding you, this is just amazing.

-I look HOTTT (yes, with 3 T's) in all navy. So slimming. So bootcut. So the exact opposite of all white and tapered ankles. Hallelujah.

-after giving my patient 5 different things to make him take a crap (including 2 enemas within 5 minutes of each other), he unloaded about 2 liters of poo. The way I described it to the Tall One was like this: you know on those trauma/ER shows where the dude comes in with a gunshot wound and blood is just dripping onto the floor into huge puddles? That was me yesterday. With poo. I can safely say that the 2 liters is a good guess because we used a suction catheter and a canister to vacuum a lot of it up to make it easier to clean up and that was at least a liter there. It took 3 of us 45 minutes to clean up, but when we were done, it was like nothing had happened in there. But we knew...

-I watched CSF (the nice, sterile, clear fluid surrounding your brain and spinal cord) burble out of a lady's incision when she coughed. A nurse said let's clean the area with sterilizing solution and then put a clean bandage over it. Um, I'm pretty sure I learned that is the WRONG thing to do, but since it wasn't my patient, I'm new AND a grunt, I kept my mouth shut. Nobody likes an overeager new grad spouting textbooks. I still don't know if that was the right decision.

-checking a patient's blood sugar and then giving insulin based on the result is so much easier than when I was a student! Before, I had to do the test, show the nurse, get the insulin, show it to my nurse, get ANOTHER nurse, show her, then give it. Now? I AM the nurse! I show one other nurse and bam!- give it to my patient. Nursing school is so complicated.

-two days on the floor, and I'm already going home with medications. In my shift report, I told the oncoming RN that I hadn't given a 5mg tablet of a med because the order called for 10mg and the pharmacy had only sent me one 5mg tablet. They never sent me the second tab, so I put it back in my patient's med drawer. Or so I thought. I raced home a half hour late, showered and we were off the the OC fair. Before leaving, I took all my nursey stuff out of my purse- and that included the 5mg tablet. Pissed. So I dropped it off on the way to the fair.

I like nursing!! I love my job!!!

The end of the proverbial rope...

...can be found at my house because the freaking dog managed to, within the first 10 minutes of me coming home from working out, grab all 3 of my new scrubs and roll around with them on his dog bed and rip tags off.  I haven't even worn these, and now I have to wash them again.

I've been trying really hard to be diplomatic and understanding and compassionate.  But I can't hold it in any longer.

The dog is on my freaking nerves.  The last one to be exact. 

People look at him, remark how cute he is and then ask me if I just love him. And since 80% of south Orange County has a dog (to go along with their SUV's and 2.5 kids), it's therefore out of the question to really speak my mind and reply with, "No."  I can't even really say that beyond making sure he has water, food and a warm place to live, there is no attachment.

Do you realize that with company over last night, he decided that he had to pee and started on the patio and then came inside and peed from the patio door, across the living room and to the front door, a distance of at least 15 feet?  While everyone is hanging out, I'm mopping up dog piss and Swiffering the floor with wet mops.

I have to go put my scrubs back in the wash now.  

OVER IT!!!

Egghead Crush.

So, I'm pretty convinced that if Albert Einstein was alive today, I'd have an egghead crush on him. I only say this because some of the things he said were absolutely classic.  

"Only two things are infinite, the universe and human stupidity, and I'm not sure about the former."

"God may be subtle, but He isn't plain mean."

"I do not believe that civilization will be wiped out in a war fought with the atomic bomb. Perhaps two-thirds of the people of the earth will be killed."

"Intellectuals solve problems, geniuses prevent them."

"The hardest thing to understand in the world is the income tax."

"The difference between stupidity and genius is that genius has its limits."

Go, Albert, go.

Chowdah.

I generally refrain from posting recipes because this is not a cooking forum and it just sounds boring typing and reading a recipe.  But every now and again, something makes it on that is just a little special and would be nice to be shared.  That specialness is usually attained by being freakishly easy to cook, can be ready in less than 30min, and can be made with ingredients you most likely have around the kitchen.

The Tall One is predictably sick, since he leaves Thursday morning for a 4-day houseboat trip, so last night I wanted to make him a nice mellow dinner.  I got the idea from Kaylani to make a corn chowder of sorts and serve it with grilled cheese.  Easy!!  He loved it and I'm having it for lunch in about 2 hours.  Maybe earlier because I'm so excited about it.

You need: 

1- 14.75oz. can of cream corn 

2 potatoes, peeled and cubed

4 cups chicken broth

1 med onion, chopped

Saute up the onions until soft (you can do this while bringing the broth and potatoes to a boil), add the onions to the broth mixture and cook until the taters are soft and mashable.  Drain the taters, reserving 1c. of broth.  Add salt and pepper (I even added some parsley flakes), and mash everything together, using the reserved liquid to desired consistency.  Add can of corn, mix, taste, season more if you like and serve.  (I added a couple slices of bacon and it was great).

Chowdah, yo.

Trying.

Any form of the verb "try" is a cop out.  It covers a wide variety of all ills and I'm calling crap on it.

"I'm going to try working on that."

"I'm sorry!  I'm trying!"

"Trying" isn't "working" for me anymore.

Passing the buck.

It really was inevitable.

When friends that work with youth tell me things like the kids send thousands of text messages a month, sit next to each other and talk in electronic messages with bastardized english and ignore the outside world while fingers of fury fly, it truly was inevitable.

What was also inevitable?  The subsequent lawsuit for an action that might not have happened if the girl was concentrating on the world around her and not enveloped in her own fake texting world.  Staten Island residents should be pissed their tax dollars will contribute to the payout for the injuries of someone that were 100% avoidable if the girl had opened her eyes.  Once again, passing the blame when the blame rests solely on you.  Why did I go back to school?  I should just find dangerous locations, walk while texting and then wait for the settlements to pour in.  Forget the work part!!!

But who can pass up the quick buck?  

Adventure Week, Day 1.

Today I started the official countdown to the beginning of my career.  In the next 3 weeks, I'm trying to have as much fun as possible.  So, this week, I am naming "Adventure Week", and every day I have to do an activity that I deem an adventure.  Adventures are what you make of them, so even small things count.

This morning, I woke up way too early as both our smoke alarms decided to malfunction at 6am. While most people would say, "Hmmm, both at the same time might actually mean 'fire', check for smoke", I knew for a fact it was a curse and proceeded to dismantle fire alarms at rapid pace. I then slept in for a little while more, then got up, read my Bible, drank some tea, basically relaxed. And then I called Christy.

We decided a little bike ride adventure was the ticket, so I loaded up our beach cruisers and picked her up.  We parked at Trail 1 at San Onofre State Beach Campground (affectionately known as Trails) and unloaded.  We rode from Trail 1 to the outlook at Trail 6 and watched the surf and bodysurfing dolphins, then continued south.  For anyone not aware, the bike trail through the park continues even after the park ends and cuts through Pendleton on down to Oceanside.  It's nice, mostly flat and for how close you are to the freeway, the sound is shockingly muted.  We made it almost to the scenic overlook halfway between San Clemente and Oceanside before turning around, but not before heading out to the end of the random helipad on the cliff and riding around on it.  We kept waiting for a Marine chopper to appear from below the bluff ordering us out of the area.  We figured since we're big girls with licensed jobs now, perhaps some sort of trespassing on military property infraction wouldn't look so good.

And then we rode back.  It was such a nice day- sunny, breezy, and not crowded.  Afterwards, we went back to Christy's house and made homemade Pinkberry style frozen yogurt topped with blackberries and blueberries.  It's easy and freaking delicious.

The only thing to top this off will be a bike ride to the pier to hang out with the Tall One's cousins before they split out of town.  TWO cruises in one day- it's like super fun day!

Tomorrow's adventure is to surf in the morning, maybe go for a hike afterwards.  Or we might put the hike off until Wednesday.

Work is really going to suck in some ways...

(Easy Homemade Frozen Yogurt- Large (32oz. ?) container of nonfat plain yogurt, 3/4c. of white sugar, 1 ice cream maker.  Mix yogurt and sugar in bowl, get maker ready and turn on, pour yogurt mixture into maker, mix for 30min.  Top with whatever the heck you want.)

V-neck=too much neck.

Too long for a Facebook status update and potentially too polarizing a comment.  Probably too short for a blog posting but who cares.  It's my blog and only like 3 people read it.

I came to a fashion conclusion the other night.  I have these a lot actually.  Like on my run the other morning, when a roadie passed me wearing white lycra bike pants and a white lycra jersey. Men and skin-tight white is a combo that never should've happened and I think my retinas detached ever so slightly at the sight of it.  But that's another topic.

I know it's hipster/indie/emo/rock 'n' roll and totally original, but v-neck tee shirts on guys should also never happen.  That's not to say that the v-neck UNDER tee while actually being used in this fashion is included.  The Tall One owns about 4 dozen of these things and wears them under nice shirts for work.  I see them out and about and I'll sum it up like this- I just don't need to see that much of your neck.  And I don't know how to rationalize the fact that if you're not wearing a shirt at all that the amount of exposure then is not as creepy as an upside-down triangle exposing flesh and possibly chest hair.  Maybe because if someone is sans shirt, they are (Lord willing) in a setting where this is appropriate, like the beach or pool or the park playing ball.  But catching man decolletage at like church or something- kind of creepy.

And there's no discrimination here.  I don't care if you are Mystic Tanned out and hit the gym weights like it's your job or you are the poster child for skinny/scrawny/pasty indie rockers worldwide.  A v-neck tee does not look good skin tight or hanging off your skin and bones, the same color as Malibu Barbie or "the sunshine bores the daylights out of me" translucent white.

It's like the early 2000's version of the 70's disco style- polyester shirt unbuttoned down to the belly button.  All we need is some chains and medallions and we're set.

Now I'm creeped out again.  Visions of man v-necks, dancing in my head...

Cold and heartless- that's me.

I think I might be the only person in my Facebook network that is totally annoyed with the time, attention and yeah, crap, being devoted to Michael Jackson's passing.

It's always, always, always sad when a person passes away.  There is almost always a family left behind grieving and it's the end of a life.  I'm not bothered by this.  And when celebrities die, it's even more magnified because the general population holds these people up on a pedestal and spends an enormous amount of their daily lives knowing the in's and out's of these strangers' lives.

But to join a throng of people outside a hospital because a pop star died?  Or to go to their home and clog traffic and block people trying to get into the house?  What do you accomplish by that?  You want to be a part of it and celebrate his life?  And then talk on camera, oh so ineloquently, about what he meant to you?  It is still before 5pm on a weekday- don't you people have JOBS?  I know the economy sucks and all, but good grief!!  Makes me feel better about sitting on the couch watching the NBA draft!  At least I'm not standing in the middle of a multitude of strangers mourning for some guy I've never met!

And this crap is all over every major network channel, and even CNN which totally annoys me. Like I said somewhere else, I hope there isn't something else going on anywhere in the world that is actually news-worthy because nothing is getting through the news-block that is the live coverage of MJ's death.

I'm not an MJ hater.  But let's be honest- the man was a circus sideshow, peculiar and there were way too many legal problems to blame it on coincidence.  He made some great music, but I honestly can't listen to it the same way anymore.  The person managed to overshadow his music, for me.

So therefore, I'm watching the NBA draft and rooting for the adorable 18-yr old Spanish kid with the thick, long eyelashes- Ricky Rubio.  Sounds like he should be running drugs in Scarface or something.  And do you want to know what the ticker is running on the bottom? JUST the draft order and that's IT.  Thank you ESPN, thank you.

And poor Ricky, leaving some glorious city in Spain... for Minnesota.  Make sure they pay you well...

Who's boss? Me, but I wish I felt boss...

Tomorrow, in about 12 hours, I will take the biggest test of my life.  At 8am, I will sit down in front of a computer (that I'm told wants me to succeed, which always amazes me since it is an inanimate object and has no soul) that will fire questions at me in an attempt to determine if I am ready to start practice as a safe, competent, entry-level RN.  No pressure.

I have spent hours upon hours doing practice questions, between 2000-3000 questions total.  I took the review course, and brushed up on my content.  I've studied and applied test taking strategies and ways to come to an answer of a 4-option multiple choice question when you have no idea what the answer is.  I've taken a comprehensive predictor exam that says that I have a 99% chance of passing the NCLEX the first time I take it.

Why do I feel so powerless, nervous and scared?

Because I'm afraid of failure.

And because I'm forgetting to focus on the one thing that has been constant throughout this whole adventure.

I've never been alone one second of the way since I went back to school.  I have gotten into classes I had no way of getting into, I have passed my classes with flying colors and have exceeded my expectations fay beyond what I imagined when I decided to give nursing a go.  God has been with me every step of the way, meeting my needs exactly as they needed to be. Whatever happens tomorrow, it is part of plan and everything is going to work out.

"Be anxious about nothing, but in everything, though prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Phil. 4:6-7.

Sorry, just don't like it.

Not to be Negative Nancy again, but I just have to let it out.  I feel like I need to put it in print.

Use of the word "hubby" makes me roll my eyes.  I don't hold it against people (so if this is a regular vocab word in your rotation, this is not a personal attack) and it's pure preference- but I can't stand it.   Go ahead, call me a jerk.

If I was a guy, I wouldn't want to be referred to with a word that rhymes with "chubby".  And he's a husband- hubby just sounds so nauseatingly cutesy.  "Husband" sounds to me like substance.

And don't try to tell me it's a shortcut to "husband" because "hubby" is 5 letters, and "husband" is 7.  Really, those 2 extra letters were slowing you up?

And for my final argument, if I was routinely called Wifey, I'd barf.  Routinely.  I know for a fact the Tall One refers to me as The Wife.  I love it.  So strong sounding.  Someone once referred to me as Wifey to the Tall One (while I was in earshot) and I pretty much wanted to open hand slap them on the cheek.  Wifey this!!!!!

Take this all with a grain of salt.  This is of course coming from the woman who looks her HUSBAND square in the eye and says "You're a..." and inserts whatever object is nearby or whatever was the last word said.  Countless times everyday.  Like every Monday when Big Bang Theory comes on and the theme song goes on about how in the begininng the universe was in a hot, dense state- the Tall One, without fail, says, "You're a hot, dense state."  There are billions of possibilities- and 99% of them are hilarious.

Ah, true love.

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

I've been sucked into a show on Discovery Health called Freebirthing.  The show follows 3 different women as they decide to forgo modern, Western medicine and take their pregnancies and births into their own hands- do things how they've been done for thousands of years.  Back, you know, when women and infants died unnecessarily of things that a hospital or at least the use of a registered midwife at a home birth can prevent.

For the umpteenth time, I know many people have given up on Western medicine because it's let them down or failed them.  Right.  Fine.  But during this show, I watched these things:

- A woman try to diagnose an abnormally implanted placenta with a fetoscope that she purchased off the internet.  A simple ultrasound would've answered that question, if she perhaps was actually getting prenatal care.

- The same woman considers her "prenatal visit" as a stop off at the local drugstore to take her blood pressure in the automated BP machine (which are notoriously uncalibrated, but whatever- free!) and then listens to the fetal heart beat with the fetoscope and has her husband measure the size of her abdomen.

- She also gave birth at home, laboring in a blow up kiddie pool, and then gave birth on a bed while her mother filmed and her 2-3 year old son watched.  Watched.  The whole thing.  They then washed scissors in the kitchen sink, used them to cut the cord and then tied it off with shoestring.  Quote of that scene: "You don't think this hurts, does it? Does it hurt the baby to do this?" Husband's answer, "I'm sure it doesn't because they do it in the hospital." *sound of me slapping my forehead with my palm*  Maybe if you'd done a bit more research and at the least had someone there QUALIFIED then you might know the answer to your profoundly stupid question.

- Some woman in Britain getting snarky because the local hospital withdrew support of her home birth and would not supply her with a free home birth kit when they found out that she was refusing to have a midwife present at the birth.  Yeah, it's called COVERING THEIR @$$ when you screw this up and you or the child dies or is permanently injured in your quest to do things "the natural way"- who wants to be known as the facility that aided you in your stupidity?  Knew what was happening and did nothing but stand aside and let you carry on?

And then, shockingly, Miss Kiddie Pool still hasn't delivered her placenta several hours after birth and must give in and go to the hospital.  Where she absolutely refused an IV (totally within her rights, I get this) and then complains that the physician treating her obviously has a distaste in his mouth for her (which she deduces from the MD asking her, "What do you want us to do?).  And I wonder why?  You show up, say you want your placenta out and when they try to start treating you to do so, you refuse their treatment.  Tell you what, your way obviously isn't working because you've still got a placenta inside you, so right about now is when you pull your head out of your butt and realize the hospital is not a hotel where you waltz in, call your own shots and sleep your delivery off and hope your placenta comes out and all the while have paid staff around to observe you.  Am I the only one taking crazy pills?  These people are having children?  And then she has the nerve to be annoyed that community health has been notified and a social worker will be nosing around making sure they're good parents.  

You know what?  Screw it.  For those of you that hate doctors, hospitals and all that- go ahead, do natural childbirth, hire a midwife/doula (or don't, like these women) and push your baby out at home with your entire extended family as an audience.  But I can't for the LIFE of me understand the logic of all this. Women hemorrhage, get infections and infants die even in the hospital- but at least the staff and equipment to fight these awful things are present.  You say you want what's best for your child- not getting prenatal care and risking their lives (not to mention yours) is best?  

One of the first things they teach you in nursing school is that in order to provide unbiased, ethical nursing care, one must first analyze their own beliefs and feelings on certain issues before they can competently care for patients because it can affect the way they deliver care. And with that, I can now safely say that I will mostly likely not be involved in women's health! Apparently, I'm just a little too judgemental for that area.

Don't you want me, baby?

I'm pretty much a sucker for good marketing and funny commercials.  Commercials suck for the most part these days, but thanks to ingenious campaigns, I will forever profess my love for Nike shoes (because of the Kobe and LeBron puppets), will always watch an e*trade ad (shankopotamus) and will never again doubt a product made by Swiffer.

I laugh my butt off every commercial where the old mops and dusters find new ways to beg for their former owners to come back.  Good times.  My favorite is the mariachi band singing Baby Come Back.  And the duster banging its head on the keyboard- that's been me for the last two years of school!  But I've always snorted at idea of the Swiffer duster being effective.  

As someone who lives in a dust vortex, there is constantly a fine layer of dust on all furniture. The Swiffer floor sheets have rocked, so I really don't know why I didn't give the duster a fair chance.  Well, yesterday, I did.

It has revolutionized dusting for me.  It picked up dust all over the house and didn't leave dustbunnies behind.  I even sang Duran Duran the whole time.  

Do yourself a favor and buy a Swiffer duster.  Some people prefer to be all green and reuse rags and stuff and use some elbow grease.  Me?  I'm totally content trashing the earth periodically with my Swiffer duster filler things.  And I just say that because I'm officially declaring that I'm fed up with being "green".  BO-ring!  And so snooty!  But that's another topic for another time.

Don't you want me, oooooohhhh? 

And this is bad how?

Apparently, Jessica Alba (proponent of recognizing Sweden as the other neutral country) is in some hot water for vandalizing a United Way billboard in Oklahoma City by covering it up with some posters that have a white shark on them.  These posters represent an organization that is committed to raising awareness about the dwindling number of great white sharks.

Great white sharks?  Those things that chomp surfers, kill people every year and can swallow sea lions whole?  You know, as a someone who surfs and uses the ocean on a regular basis, I can confidently say that I'm 100% OK with the dwindling numbers of great white sharks.

The best part is, this stunt was pulled in OKLAHOMA CITY, where there isn't an ocean for thousands of miles.  That's taking advantage of people who just don't know.  Of course people in the Midwest have no idea that ocean folk grow weak and nauseated at the thought of a great white.  So, why not play on their sympathies, tell them some ocean animal is noble (with sharp teeth), beautiful (with jaws of steel), and endangered (can I be so bold as to say, a blessing?) and wait for people to sign up with quivering lower lips and donations.  

Sharks.  Shudder....

(Photo courtesy of the National Geographic website's online photo gallery of great white sharks.  Please don't sue me.  Thanks.)

And next on the soapbox, we have...

Shocker, me again!

I have to vent about something.  I'm seeing it a lot lately, and to be honest, I don't like it.  Maybe it has something to do with the fact that it involves both members of our household, but it's bugging me.

I know Facebook is the place where friends talk, post photos, and let the whole world know what they're doing as often as they feel like updating their status.  I'm one of them.  It's entertaining to eavesdrop on people's goings-on and see fun pictures and even catch up with a long-lost friend. Good times.  What I don't like is when people start bitching and moaning about medical matters.

"Doctors don't know what they're talking about." "Stupid medications, why do I have to take them- I can't sleep!" "What I do is take a bunch of Tylenol and Advil on a regular schedule, that should help you."

Pretty much, it's a bunch of people complaining about how their doctor/clinic/nurse doesn't know anything and they know it all, won't drop what they're doing and see me, asked me a question and I didn't like it so therefore they are rude and uneducated.

(Lots of blinking, pursed lips, LOTS of unspoken comments...)

I really do have a lot to say about this, but I have to go to Day #2 of NCLEX review in about an hour and still need to shower, walk the houseguest (more on this later, but there is a labrador retriever in our house for the next 2 days) and make myself breakfast.

First of all, if you had any idea how asinine it sounds when you spout off how doctors don't know anything, you'd bite your tongue in shame.  This is usually done when the doctor tells them something they don't want to hear or when (gasp!) they really might not know what the problem is and need to do some things to find out.  Just a little inside info- doctors are human and don't know everything.  There are a few pieces of work that care more about money and less about patients, but the majority really want to make an impact and better their patients' lives.  Just because they can't find the answer doesn't mean they don't care or are stupid, there are just things that we still just don't know about.  But don't know anything?  Those 4 years of med school that follow 4 years of undergraduate work?  Not spent doing kegstands and chasing skirts!  And residency?  Most doctors I know call it the darkest time of their lives.  And what do they have to repay them?  A bunch of people that only appreciate them when medical care is on their terms and benefits them the most.  Awesome.  I understand there are people that have not been able to be helped by modern, Western medicine and I hate that- I wish there were answers and you could be treated.  But many of these comments come across as petulant response to something they just don't like or didn't want to hear.  If you don't like it, then you can just go back to being an armchair diagnostician, googling random illnesses, smacktalking people that actually hold a degree and are qualified to treat you, and overdose yourself on whatever you see fit.  By all means, carry on.  And those antibiotics?  You stop taking them when you feel better and share them with people- even though the pharmacy instructions say not to?  And you buy them in Mexico because you don't need a prescription and they're cheaper?  Fantastic. A doctor can't see you for ONE WHOLE WEEK?  Good god- are you the only person in their practice and the only person in the city?  Could it be at all possible that someone, somewhere has the same condition as you (or is just sick as well) and needs the same care?  I realize that is shocking, especially in a culture where we expect (no, demand) to be attended to on command.  The docs aren't being rude, and most likely they're not off playing golf while you sit around sick or in a cast.

And now to be personal, I had someone comment that a nurse made a statement about a medication (which was true) and because they didn't like it, they bashed about it on Facebook. And the best part?  Everyone commented about how they would've told the nurse to stick it, she doesn't know anything, that they would've PUNCHED the nurse. Really?  Again, that whole school part, while it doesn't give us the right to lord information over you, nurses are charged with caring and educating and empowering patients with information so they can better their lives.  If you don't like it, suck it up or don't ask.  But don't ask, and then complain when it doesn't fit your life or you didn't like the outcome.  

I'm not saying all doctors and nurses are perfect.  But you'd be surprised how many care about their patients and are trying to make a difference.  Think of them the next time you feel the need to slam them in a public setting.  You never know who's reading and now thinks you might be an ungrateful terd.  It won't change how you're treated (or shouldn't) because of that whole ETHICS thing, but we notice.  And it sucks when we put up with a lot and work long hours to make your life better... and you say (even jokingly) that you would punch us in the face if you were told something.  I want to pull the whole "if you lived in a third-world country you might not even get to see a nurse or doctor to even get the chance to threaten them with a slap" card, but really, that's just not going to change things.  Only realizing that nobody is perfect is going to help at this point.

I live in Mordor.

Woke up to drizzle and cool weather.  Left for San Diego at noon and it was still cloudy but no drizzle.  On the way home, hit Oceanside and it was drizzle, gloom and 60 degrees straight into our driveway.  It's May 29th for crying out loud!!!!

Summer.  Now.

The Blair Witch Surf Check.

Surfline is third in line on sites I check every morning.  First email, then Weather Channel, then Surfline.  Granted, I haven't surfed in an unmentionable amount of time, but I'm still on the lookout for that first day back.  It definitely isn't today.  Drizzly, cloudy, 1-2', AND it's Friday and let's not forget that 79% of South Orange County doesn't work on Fridays.  

So they run this 30-second video loop every day for the morning surf check.  I think they've been having a hard time finding someone to commit long term to getting up at the butt crack of dawn, stare at the surf in any conditions long enough to make an educated report AND video it. We're on round #32 of roving surf reporters and I think the qualifications for being an eye-on-the surf reporter have been drastically reduced to: 

a) must be able to write intelligently

b) don't start the report with a greeting in pidgin english

c) must have a pulse.

This is the first week of the new report and for weeks they've been apologizing for the lack of video and how they're working on it and it would be up this week with better quality.  That is up for debate.  Behold, the new video surf report.  Wow is one word for it.  Another thought is: the Trestles people must be angry.

Now, I have 101 responses to these video reports and all of them are sarcastic.  Here's the top 5:

1) I'm pretty sure my 5 yr-old niece can film better than this.

2) If people get video induced motion sickness and nausea, will they not go surf and the lineup will be less crowded?

3) One word: tripod.

4) If you're filming the surf, zeroing in on a pack of dudes bobbing in the middle of a gray, overcast ocean with no reference to shore or horizon and then losing focus and swaying like a tree branch in the breeze when a set comes in tells me nothing other than you have no idea how to work a video camera.

5) I'm pretty sure the crew of the Blair Witch Project filmed better than this, and they were running away from witches (also up for debate), not standing stationary on a shoreline.

I'm just going to stick with the written report and use my imagination on how it looks.  My brain doesn't fade out of focus or bob up and down like a buoy.

Trial run.

After the extreme negativity of my last few posts, I'm going to lamely try to redeem myself.

We might be getting a dog.  Might.

The Tall One has grown up with dogs, dogs that live on famously in family lore and create quite the benchmark for all future dogs in the family.  He REALLY wants a dog.

I grew up with (in this order): two finches, a rabbit, a cockatiel possessed by Satan and a horse. Interspersed through that were appearances by dogs: Lady the Husky was before my brain laid down the highways for memory formation, Cookie the Cocker Spaniel that lasted a whole week before we gave her back, Sheba the Queensland Heeler that was the pet of a stepsister, and my dad and stepmom went through two Golden Retrievers: Zoo and Lady.  But I didn't live full-time with my dad, so that was like part-time dog ownership.  As you can see, I'm a little concerned about this next step in life.

Backing up, I was told that when I could keep an orchid alive, we could then get a goldfish, and then a dog, and then kids could be brought up for discussion.  Now, the Tall One was setting me up for failure because I was, in fact, an orchid slayer.  Until last summer, when the orchid I decapitated grew a flower stalk... and flowered.  It just did it again, too.  Now, a goldfish is a total filibuster of sorts-  those things are genetically programmed to die anywhere from 2 days to 2 years.  But, apparently we're skipping the fish and going straight to dog.

The proposed victim is a 1yr-old yellow lab that the owners don't have enough time for and it's crated an unholy amount of each day.  The dog is housebroken but that might be it.  My mother-in-law suggested the dog to us and the Tall One took the bait.  He's been in talks with his mom about this dog.  I just found out in an email that we might be having the trial run.  I also learned that he likes to jump up, play all the time and run around the house chewing on anything that isn't bolted to the floor.  Truth be told, this sounds like my worst nightmare.  I like to sleep in and be lazy.  This thing's going to have to be run around for HOURS each day so he's mellow.  I know I'm trying to lose my "nursing school baby" weight and all, but that's not really how I envisioned it going down.  And lab=dog hair, and dog hair means I'm swiffering the floor waaaay more than I do right now.  I don't know if I'm ready to have dog hair attached to everything I own.

I really don't want to suck at the whole dog thing.  I generally avoid things I might suck at, and I'm really worried I'm going to fail at dog ownership.  Can't we just skip the fish and dog levels and go straight to kids?  I'm all for just jumping in and learning kid skills by crash course.

What if it eats my veggie garden?!?  I just got more scared.

It's going to be OK, right?  I can do this, right?

Nurse Jackhole.

No, I'm not referring to myself.

So, now that I'm done with nursing school and all I've heard for awhile is how all these medical shows totally portray nurses in the wrong light and how all these misrepresentations have negatively impacted the amount of people going into nursing.  I'll be the first to admit, the docs on House are doing their jobs AND the nurses' job, but whatever.  WHO CARES.  It didn't stop me from going into nursing or the 400+ people that applied to Saddleback this past semester, just like it probably doesn't affect thousands of other aspiring nurses.  And you know why? Because it's not a NURSE show, it's a drama pretty much centered around DOCTORS.  

Well, Hollywood's not standing for it anymore.  Some nurse advocacy group somewhere complained loud and hard enough.  Coming soon to a channel near you will be shows like Hawthorne (with the "rn" highlighted because you know, she's an "RN" and those letters are in her name... eh, eh...) and the pukefest and terd-pile that is Nurse Jackie.  You can watch a sneak preview at Showtime's website.  I predict it will be the worst 28 minutes of your life and you will never have that time back.  I know this.

The website actually pumps it up with this enticing tagline: Surviving the chaotic grind of saving lives, this sharp-witted woman of substance knows how to handle it all.  With a white lie here, a bent rule there, and a steady dose of pain relievers, Jackie does what it takes to get the job done right.  Really?  This is the answer to years of nurse misrepresentation?  THIS is going to show nurses in a positive light and draw people into the field?

I'm sure someone, somewhere will snort and roll their eyes at my sheer disdain for this show- saying I need to loosen up, it's funny, it's not real and it's just entertainment.  They'll say she's hilarious and strong and calls it like it is.  I say it's trash, disparaging and just as damaging to the image of nursing as NOT using them like they should be in House.  She's the exact opposite of the nurse I want to be and she's the exact kind of nurse I wish would just retire because she's not fun to be around and there's plenty of new grads frothing at the mouth for her job and would do a much better job and wouldn't need to snort Oxycontin just to do it. 

Within the first 10 minutes of this show, she snorted some grains of a pain killer for her sore back before going on shift (illegal), forged the signature of a dead patient so they could harvest his organs (illegal), banged the pharmacist in the pharmacy (classy!), took the Oxy her "lover" offered her for her bad back that she aggravated during their med room tryst (karma!), told her MD buddy that she'd only do the heimlich maneuver on a restaurant patron if the MD bought lunch her lunch (wench!) and was generally snarly and foul-mouthed throughout the entire thing.  Later on, after talking to her nursing student while hanging a medication for a patient, she sends the student home after a long day, looks at the IV pump and proceeds to rip the whole cartridge and line out of the machine.  She looks at the patient and says "I almost killed you", while looking actually human and sorry, kisses the patient on the forehead and walks off.  You idiot. Three things could've avoided that happening:

1) Try verifying your patient's identity.  If you're going to have a nurse show, at least try to get it right, like making sure your characters are using the 5 Rights of Med Administration.

2) Maybe don't TALK while you're hanging meds.  

3) Just a thought, but DON'T DO DRUGS while working!!!!!

Didn't the tagline say she does things right?  Lies.

I then paused the show so that I could write all the above stuff.  That was a good thing, because I might have forgotten all of that after being fully repulsed by the last 8 minutes of the show. In that last 8 minutes, she steals money from a patient and Ugg boots from a co-worker and gives them to the girlfriend of the dead "organ donor"; runs into the pharmacist who gives her a Dr. Pepper, a Moon Pie and some Vicodin and they share a kiss goodnight; she then goes home where she gives the Moon Pie to her two little girls; and then to cap it all off, she slips on her wedding ring and walks into the kitchen where her husband gives her a loving smile and tells her he cooked dinner.  You lying, worthless whore.  Woman of substance?  Only if that substance is poop.

Let's just cut the crap- this show sucks.  And I'm actually offended it even exists.  And I'm not just saying that because I'm a gung-ho, by-the-book new grad RN.  Nurse advocacy groups should be even more pissed off at this then they are at House, or ER or Grey's Anatomy. Nobody watches those shows for the nurses!  They watch them because Dr. House is a crank and funny, ER was a soap opera at best and had George Clooney, and Grey's Anatomy is an hour-long chick flick.

You know, if they want a real RN show, then they should just talk to me about my reality show idea.  Discovery Health, are you listening?  Follow around a group of nursing students through all 4 semesters, document all the crap they go through both studying and in clinical, how freakishly stressful it is finding a job while finishing school and end it on graduation.  THAT'S how you show real nursing.  

And on that note, can't wait to see how HawthoRNe manages to underwhelm (or better put, enrage) me.

Just turn off the TV...

Today is my anniversary.  Two years ago, I married the Tall One in what is easily the best decision of my life.

We celebrated by exchanging little gifts and then going to Mahe, a Japanese restaurant in the Dana Point Harbor that we discovered has quite possibly the most amazing happy hour EVER.  We shared a couple pieces of sushi, ate some calamari and shared a beer.  Lovely!  

And then we came home and I let him watch the Laker game already in progress.  It was on the DVR so he could watch every agonizing second of it.  I gave up early in the second quarter because I couldn't stand to watch Nuggets fans thing they're actually awesome.  So, I've been upstairs drinking wine and doing NCLEX questions.  100 questions a day, they say!

The Tall One is sitting downstairs, currently suffering through the 3rd quarter and I can hear him yelling at the TV, slapping his hand on his leg and angrily snapping his gum (we have bubble gum in this house?).  Unfortunately, I know what the 4th quarter holds for him and it's an ass-whooping that will kill the rest of my anniversary.  Damn you Denver!!!  I want so badly to tell him to just turn it off and call it a night, but I'm expressly forbidden to betray the ending.

But even worse than all that, is this:

Look at this douchebag.  You think the tattoos on this side are bad, they are only matched by the visual atrocity on the other side and the absurdity of his inner biceps that have WINGS tattooed on them because his nickname is "The Birdman".  Who the heck calls himself "The Birdman"?  This terd shows up with his hair like this for every game, and it never droops.  That's a truckload of hair product.  He's also got a soul patch flavor savor strip of hair under his lower lip, he runs like a girl, and when he does something he thinks is awesome he walks up the court flapping his arms like, you guessed, a bird.  How predictable.  Did I mention a couple of seasons ago, he was suspended by the NBA for drugs?  What a tool.

But at tonight's game, I learned how lame Denver fans are.  At the arena, there were kids that PURPOSELY had their hair styled like this guy and I clearly saw one kid with the hair and his arms covered in homemade Sharpie tattoos.  Where are the parents?!?  You're going to let your kid emulate some thugged out douche and then let them go out like that?!?  If my kid was, by an act of the devil, a Nuggets fan and he pulled this stunt- it would be shaved head, not a marker in the house and we'd for sure be canceling our cable.

I hate Denver.  Thanks for making my husband mad and ruining my anniversary.  

Now that I really didn't need to see.

Yesterday at Costco, I witnessed visual proof as to why I don't like shaking hands with strangers when walking into church.

While the Tall One waited for his pizza and hot dog combo to come up, behind him was a white, pasty dude with the moobs and fantastically bad tattoos.  I watched in horror as he stuck his hand into the back of his shorts and scratched the upper half of his buttcrack with the back of his hand.  For like 5 strokes at least.  And this was in the Costco food court on the Friday of a holiday weekend- it was packed!!!  Nobody works in south Orange County on a Friday anyway, but on a holiday Friday?!?  That place was crawling with people and ill-mannered and undisciplined children.  Just wrongness.

And then he put that arm and hand around his chick, and ordered fat food.  I just stood there frozen.  If I could say "Ew" in 73 different languages I'd have done it right there.

Dry heave, dry heave.

That's because they are, sweetie...

Not awesome is the fact that MTV is debuting a show called 16 & Pregnant.  I can't tell if it's going to give teen pregnancy a positive spin (i.e.: hey, it's OK, it happens a lot), take the neutral road or show crazed and hormonal teens just exactly what happens when they chuck the few functioning neurons in their brains out the door and start thinking with that whole region below the belt.

However, in the promo that they show religiously (and I know this because I've been sucked into a True Life marathon- how old am I?), they have this baby-faced teenaged girl declaring in the most southern drawl, "I just feel like everybody's starin' at me."  

Thaaaat's because they are.  We know what YOU'VE been up to- and it ain't studying geometry!!!!!!

My future children are already annoyed with me.  

When dorks buy cars.

Far be it from me to form a snap judgement, but I was live and in effect this afternoon while cruising through Laguna Niguel.

While driving down the illustrious Golden Lantern, I found myself behind a PT Cruiser (not my favorite vehicle) with about 5 hokey "check me out, I'm a surfer" stickers plastered on the back window, the most defining being the ubiquitous "Old Guys Surf" sticker.  But all that is minor, compared to what met my eyes when Old Guy depressed his brake pedal.

As Old Guy applied his brakes, what should've been a solid red rectangle in the top of his rear window, was this illuminated in red, "GOTSURF"  Swear on the Bible, I am not making this up nor would I EVER admit to even joking about doing this.  This doof actually took the time to get a sticker with GOTSURF cut out of it that would fit perfectly over his rear window brakelight.

Sigh.  Thing is, I've probably been out in the water with this guy at San Onofre at some point, and I'm sure he was nice.  But then again, he could've been the guy that, again, not making this up nor could I, yelled, "Cowabunga!" as he dropped into a waist-high mushburger.  Or hit me in the back with his board years ago.  Or so blantantly dropped in on me and never once looked over his shoulder (actually, that happens a LOT- look left people!!!!!).

GOTSURF.  Make me vomit...

I need a basketball in my hands!!!

Post season.  POST... season!!  Make some noise!!  Waaaoooooh!

What's better than graduating nursing school, the start of summer AND a having a job?  This commercial.  We laughed our butts off at this thing.  Awesome.  Awesome.  Awesome.

Beef and broccoli!  Waaaooooh!!!

Perhaps business clothes are not shareable...

I had an interview about a week and a half ago.  For my job searching, my friend Christy has loaned me her jacket that she used when she was looking for a new grad RN position.  Seeing as she got her dream job at her dream hospital and I have just a little to much superstition in my life for a Bible-believing church-goer, I figured perhaps it might give me a little luck as well.

So, the interview was at Christy's hospital for her department.  The interview went great, I survived, they didn't laugh me out of the building.  One of the panelists in the interview was one of the people that interviewed her when she was job searching.  Apparently something like this exchange went down a few days ago:

RN: So, we interviewed your friend, she's so great!

Christy: Right!  So how'd she do?

RN: Great!  So um, did she wear your jacket?

Christy: Um... yes.  

Honestly!!!!  Who remembers what someone wore for an interview over 6 months prior?!?  It's so awesome, I'm not even mad or bummed!  We laughed our butts off in the middle of the sale section at the Gap today!  I mean, I know we're friends, we farm together, do arts and crafts together and are slowly but surely ticking off the activities our husbands are going to forbid us to do together- but who makes the connection on a jacket?!?

Critical care nurses, that's who.  Putting those critical and observational skills to use!! 

Yeah, boy-eeeeee.

These are our citizens.

So, after watching three straight House episodes in an attempt to empty out the DVR library, normal television programming kicked in just in time for Deep Fried Paradise.

Just in time to watch some flush-faced, Midwestern good ol' boy hold a piece of chicken fried bacon dunked in gravy at eye level, stare lustfully and longingly at it while saying, "Fat on fat... heart attack waiting to happen."  And then eat it.

I waver between nausea at the stupidity of knowingly eating something that is so clearly bad for you and laughing while doing it... and wanting to thank them for my continued job security, you know, once the economy decides to stop taking a dump in my life and erasing all the job opportunities.  People will continue to eat crap, continue to not modify their modifiable risk factors and then I'll see them post coronary artery bypass surgery- monitoring their chest tubes, their mechanical ventilation, their urine output, their bandage changes, their vasoactive drips...

Nasty.

Proper mask fitting.

If you're seriously concerned about getting the swine flu and being a statistic, here are two ways to NOT avoid contracting the flu:

Oh sister.  If you look closely, one of these women is doing her own thing and that's rocking the surgical mask sideways.  Proper mask fit hint #1- gaping holes on either side of your mask do nothing to restrict the movement of airborne particles into your respiratory system.  Nice try, but you're getting the flu.  Proper mask fit hint #2- if you're not sure which way the masks go on, look around you for guidance.  Everyone else has bands around the EARS, creating a decent seal on the face.  What this poor woman should really be contemplating while sitting there is how her fellow sisters can call themselves her friends while letting her go on with this egregious faux pas in self-air filtering. 

Proper mask fit hint #3- you gotta put one on for it to work.  That's just all there is to it. Proper mask fit hint #4- not covering your nose with the surgical mask is an acceptable form of prevention only if your nasal passages are not connected with your respiratory system in any way or if you are a committed and studious mouth-breather.  But really, even then stuff's getting down.  Yeah, you have to have nasal atresia  or this just isn't working at all.

Being done with nursing school is awesome.

Please, one more swift kick in the arse while I'm down.

Debbie Downer, Negative Nancy, Bitter Betty... I don't care, call me what you want.  

So, after two back-to-back precepting shifts, I came home last night to another politely worded yet still asinine rejection letter in my email junk folder, which in hindsight is the perfect place for that letter.  The best part is, it was for a position for which I was told about a week ago that I would be contacted for an interview.  I've been contacted alright- for an interview with REJECTION!!!!

This morning, I was supposed to surf, for the first time in about 4 months with a friend.  South wind by 8am.  South winds do amazing things to the ocean, none of which are good in Orange County.  So we sat at her house and ate breakfast instead.  So much for upping the physical activity once done with nursing school.

But, and this is the kicker, before heading off to not surf, I went out into my garden.  The !@#$%!$ snails and slugs returned last night to their all-you-can-eat buffet which also happens to be my vegetable garden.  Five new lettuce plants- gone.  ONE HALF of my red bell pepper plant- gone.  I've got so much Corry's Slug & Snail Death in and around my backyard right now I'm practically a toxic waste dump.  I hate snails and slugs so much, that I go out of my way while running to kill any that I come across.  Hate them all.  What a ridiculous, ridiculous waste of DNA, cellular energy and slime.  

It's only noon, plenty of time for more disappointment...

One way to tell you're over nursing school...

I think this was intended to evoke an emotional response and make people well with pride in nursing and highlight what a noble, fulfilling and life-changing role nurses play in life.

This commercial should have a warning screen before playing, telling soon-to-be-graduated nurses to avert their eyes.  I saw it while at the local Toyota dealership getting my truck serviced, and couldn't properly guffaw due to the fact I was in a public setting and didn't want to make people uncomfortable.

From the deep end of the sarcasm pool, I chortle and laugh maniacally.  A commercial intended to recruit nurses?!?  Thank you Johnson & Johnson and www.discovernursing.com!  I have you to thank for the depression session last week that will require years of therapy, don't I?

Like I said elsewhere earlier today, the website should be more appropriately named www.discoverunemployment.com.  That would be more fitting at this point and time in history.

I think I'm the only person that finds me humorous at this point.  Everyone else fears for my sanity.

Gasp! A clue???

This afternoon, on the eve of my last nursing final, I finally received some good news.

I might actually be called for an interview.

I use the word "might" as a safety net for when they don't call because at this point, having applied for 7 different positions at 6 different hospitals without one interview (and with one lame form rejection letter from the Sisters and one of their crummy hospitals), my good attitude and motivation is pretty much gone.

I'm quite entrenched in a pool of sarcasm that is apparently bottomless and freeflowing, which I'm sure makes me buckets of fun to be around.  I've referred to myself as a resume leper, being as desireable as leprosy (I think I'm fixated on leprosy, which is now more properly known as Hansen's Disease) and probably one of the few people at graduation that will still be unemployed as I stroll across the stage May 19th to receive my dorky $45 nursing pin (I went budget; did you know it can be 14K gold, you can have a diamond put on it and it can cost upwards of $350???  Bling!!!!).  See, you're already sick of me, aren't you?

Anyway, this afternoon, after sitting on my patio trying to feebly read through my neuro notes, I checked my email.  In my inbox was a response to an email I sent a few days ago and I was downright scared to open it.  But since everything sucks anyway, how much worse could one email make things?  So I opened it and was pleasantly surprised.  I'm kind of beside myself- so much so that I saved the email and will probably read it about 9 more times tonight.  And its only two sentences.  PAAA-thetic.  See, this is what nursing school has reduced me to.

And that's it.  So, I might be called for an interview.  Which is heaps better than what I've been staring at for the last 3 weeks.  Has it only been 3 weeks?  Seems like an eternity...

I find it ironic that now, as I'm on the brink of moving on to my new chapter in life, I find myself in the same predicament as when I made the decision to even do all this crap.  Almost 4 years ago, I lost my job, there were few prospects in my industry and I was over it to boot. Nursing, huh?  That sounds great!  And they NEED me?!?  What, they'll throw money at me before I graduate to hire me?!?  HOT dang!

Not.

So here I am again, with no job, few prospects and waaay to much medical information for my own good.

Don't mention the words "nursing shortage" around me, because let me tell you, there isn't one around here right now.  That New Grad open house last week that was expecting around 200 students and got 600+ from all over the country, neighboring countries like Philippines, India, Iran, and people that graduated in 2008 and were still looking for jobs...  THAT was depressing.  600+ for a rumored 9 spots.  I'm thinking that was probably a major contributor to my plunge into the sarcasm depths.  It's a defense mechanism.  I don't handle rejection well. Some people let it roll off them and forge on.  Me- I take it personally.  It's a character flaw.

So, I read a lot of psalms.  I like the ones begging for mercy and to be saved from their current situation.  Sure, the original authors were being pursued by rabid armies of angry men and tormented for their faith... but I like to pretend that the author is trying to get a nursing job after almost 4 years of hell and can't find one.  Psalm 86 is a pretty good one.  Nothing like misinterpreting the Bible to fit your situation.

I really hope I get a call...

I'm going to go with yes, I'm graduating nursing school.

After a successful attempt at getting a good grade on my last exam, I have calculated the points I need to score on the final to pass nursing school with a certain grade.  At this point, things are looking pretty sweet.

On the final, I need to score...

To get an A: 85

To get a B: 50

To get a C: 33.

I'm liking the B.  With a wedding to attend this weekend and my 5th precepting shift on Monday, I'm thinking the B looks mighty fine.

It will all be over soon.  And then I can start my career as a waitress, because not a damn hospital within 50 miles is hiring new grads.  I'm so glad I slaved for 3 1/2 years...

The Novice Guide to How to Converse With Me Right Now.

Since retreating into the nursing school bubble and therefore alienating most friends, as I approach the end of my saga and prepare to re-enter "normal life" (seriously, what is THAT), some people may have some apprehension as to how to talk to me.  It's been awhile.  Let me put you at ease.  Here's the down and dirty guide of how to talk to me (updated 4/13/09).

- Don't ask me how job hunting is going.  There is nothing more pathetic than watching a grown woman cry after asking a New Grad RN (in 36 days, anyway) how's the job hunting.  I guarantee you will make me cry and then you will feel sorry.

- You can talk to me about the surf.  I have, of my own volition, not surfed since the week before starting my fourth semester.  That would be the first full week of January.  I am so excited to start surfing again, I can't contain myself.  Starting May 4th, I will be unemployed and ready to surf so call me if you longboard, like it waist-chest high and cool water is OK.

- The Recession- surefire way to make me vomit in 5 seconds or less.  The recession needs to seriously get over itself, because I am D-O-N-E.

- The Economy- fits into the "recession" category, but at this point, I feel like it's a catch-all for all problems.  Listen, there's always going to be sick people.  You need us new grads. Admit it.  We're going to be around for longer than the part-timers trying to bring in the dollars and the old RN's delaying retirement.  

SO, essentially, don't talk to me about the economy, talk to me about everything else, especially the surf.  I miss that.  Hopefully, my boards haven't been e-Bay'd against my knowledge for cash.  That would suck.  

Oh, and gardening.  I LOVE to talk about vegetables.  If you want a veggie, I probably have the seeds and can start you something.  It's my contribution.  Since I'm not doing much else but complaining.