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.