I'm only Moody on days that end with 'Y'

It's been a while

2010-09-02T21:05:00.002-04:00

So so much has happened over the past several months I don't even know where to start, but there will be some blogs coming soon explaining my lack of posts.... stay tuned.

Words of wisdom

2010-05-03T22:15:00.005-04:00

I entered the room, prescription directions in hand. Two 80-something year old men occupied the tiny room. I veered to the left to speak with the lucky gentleman who was getting to go home on Saturday and possibly salvage what was left of the weekend.

"Do you mind if I take a seat next to you while I explain your medications?" I asked.

"Only if you keep your hands to yourself," he smiled.

I promised him I would be on my best behavior and started into my med education lecture. "Your doctor has only given you one medication to take home today. It has hydrocodone and tylenol in it and it should help with the pain." Quickly assessing the surgical scar on his neck, I assumed he'd be thrilled.

"You can keep it, I don't need that stuff," he stated.

"Yeah, my fiance hates that stuff too. He says it always makes him feel worse," I said referring to Adam who would rather suffer through pain than take a Lortab.

"Fiance?" the two men said almost in unison. They looked at each other and laughed, sharing a secret of which I wasn't aware.

The patient placed a hand on my shoulder. "Miss, my wound will heal - I don't need medication for that - but a fiance is one pain that you can never get rid of." The patient across the room emphatically nodded.

Thanks for the hot tip, guys. ;)

Have you seen it?

2010-03-21T17:43:00.000-04:00

Since the engagement, I have lost my mind. At the very least, the parts of my mind that allowed me to be a fully functioning member of the human race have gone into hibernation.

I have become a moron.

From the time I wake up in the morning to the time I go to sleep, I think about wedding planning. This leaves little time during the day to remember how to do things such as walk up the stairs properly (without falling) or park in the parking garage (without hitting big, green, support columns). And yes, I have done both.

Normally I am the one who has the common sense. Not so much any more. Last night, after I took a bath and had drained the tub, Deming decided she wanted to investigate the empty, semi-wet bathtub. Adam says to me, "What do you think would happen if I turned on the spa jets?" Normally I would have said, "No way. Do NOT turn on those jets." This time, I say, "I dunno, try it." He pushed the button and from 4 different directions, a combination of not just air, but loud water and air sprayed the cat. We had a soaking wet cat who couldn't get traction on the slippery tub to get out and she was pissed. Why on earth would I have said ok to that?

Today I lost my contact waaaaaaay up in my eyelid while at Target. Not sure how that happens. My eye was tearing up like crazy and I was blindly trying to find it with no luck. I looked at Adam and said, "HELP ME!" He looked confused (and rightfully so). I'm not even quite sure what I expected him to do. Was he supposed to dig around in my eye in the glassware aisle?

At this rate, I am afraid that I may forget to put on pants in the morning before work or may attempt to put two pairs on. I may need (daily) gentle reminders to keep me in line. Hopefully soon enough I will get back to normal and no longer have to ask "What on earth did I just do that for?"

The engagement story

2010-02-11T21:07:00.008-05:00

December 25, 2009: Christmas paper strewn across the living room, I thought all of the gift-giving was done for the day. Adam disappeared upstairs and brought back down with him a several pairs of Christmas socks and underneath those was a stack of ring pamphlets. He asked me if I would help give him some ideas for a certain sparkly purchase he was looking to make. I was ecstatic. Not long after that we went shopping together and we found a ring I loved.

Then I waited.

I was looking forward to January 22nd. We have erratic schedules that don't allow us much time off together and it was the first day off that we were going to have off together since Thanksgiving. Clearly (in my head) it was the perfect opportunity to pop the question. I was ready - hair straightened, makeup on, cute outfit. The weekend came and went. No proposal. It was quite funny, really; how "ready" I was for something that was never specifically slated to occur over that weekend.

Fast forward to the weekend of February 6th. From beginning to end Saturday was the perfect day starting with couples massages and ending with a lovely dinner, Wii boxing, and watching Ultimate Fighting. (Yes, I actually enjoy Ultimate Fighting.) I could not have asked for a better day, but still no proposal.

Sunday morning started off like many other Sunday mornings have begun by making breakfast together. We made a big hash brown and eggs meal and then sat in the living room to catch up on our DVRed shows.

After we ate, we were finishing up How I Met Your Mother and he asked, "How was breakfast?"

"Good," I replied.

"You wanna do this again some time?" he asked.

"Sure, see you in two weeks," I laughed.

The next thing I knew, he was on his knee with the ring asking, "How about for the rest of our lives?"

I never thought I would be the type to cry when I was proposed to. Yeah, I was so very wrong about that assumption. Adam says I turned shades of red he had never seen before as I just sobbed and nodded.

When I imagined the proposal in my head, it did not involve pajamas, messy hair, and no makeup. Turns out, I wouldn't have it any other way. It was absolutely perfect.

Operation Tiny Pants - Update

2009-12-25T08:06:00.001-05:00

After months of self sabotage, broken promises, and disappointment upon trying to squeeze into pair of pants that I swear I could fit into last month, I finally had enough of my own BS.

At work I was instructing patients how to eat heart healthy and yet I was eating my way through life without regard for what it was doing to my body and mind. The realization that I had not been doing many of the things I was teaching, made me feel like a complete hypocrite.

So I started practicing what I preached.

In no particular order:

I drank water like it was my job
I made one plate for dinner and refrained from heading back for seconds (or thirds in some cases)
I cursed
I bypassed the Italian buffet at lunch and opted for the salad bar (with dressing on the side)
I walked to and from my car instead of taking the shuttle - about a ten minute jaunt
I cursed while I was walking to and from my car

For a while I wondered what I was doing. Perhaps I could blame the weight gain on my aging metabolism and slink back in to the comfort of my sweatpants.

But then I saw results. At first it was half a pound. Whoop-de-doo-da.

Then it was one pound. Better, but still nothing to write home about.

Then two.

I got overly excited and tried to put on a pair of pants that hadn't seen the light of day in quite a while. It wasn't pretty. I couldn't even pull them all the way up. Bad plan.

So I worked harder. It was frustrating, difficult, and if I saw a small child with a milkshake I may have tried to fight them for it. It got bad.

Today I'd like to report great success. I am 8 lbs down and feel better than I have in a long time. This morning the pants that mocked me for years actually fit.

Now my biggest challenge is complacency. I need to sustain the willpower that for two months has kept me from covering everything with cheese.

Today I will give myself a high five. Tomorrow I start the battle all over again.

Happy holidays!

(And don't forget to keep voting! Y'all have gotten me from 3000th place to 94th in just a few days! THANK YOU!)

Fabulous Pet Names

Sponsored by The Limited

Vote for Deming's story!

2009-12-22T19:39:00.004-05:00

The Limited is sponsoring a contest for pets and how they got their names. I figured it was only appropriate to enter Deming!

From now until December 28th, you can vote for Deming's story on The Limited's website once a day per computer or cell phone. I only have to be in the top 250 to have a shot at winning.

The winner gets a $500 gift certificate to The Limited, an iPod, some music, a photo shoot, and the best part is that they donate $5000 to the ASPCA .

Just click and vote. Then get your co-workers to vote. And your grandma.

Fabulous Pet Names

Sponsored by The Limited

Thanks for all of your support!

Christmas Kitty

2009-12-19T12:07:00.001-05:00

Well, it's been a year since Deming came into our lives. For those of you who don't know the story, here it is as I wrote it one year ago:

"A few months ago at our apartment complex in Savannah, Georgia, a little cat began to come around. Those who are from there know that there are stray cats EVERYWHERE and they normally are just obnoxious.

I don't usually like cats much, but this one was cute. The neighbor across the hall started feeding her. And with that, came all of the other strays in the area. She said she would take her inside, but her dog wasn't having it.

Adam shook his head every time we walked by the kitty area in disagreement with cat-lady's tactics. Meanwhile I would sit on the cement outside of our apartment and play with her occasionally. Adam would ask me, "You know she can't come inside, right?" I always nodded in agreement.

I resorted to calling her "kitty." I couldn't give her a real name because I knew that she wasn't my cat and she would never be my cat. In fact, we were leaving Savannah soon and I wouldn't ever see her again.

Adam chose to call her names that I shouldn't repeat here. She was always in his way. Between his feet, on his truck, in his truck. She drove him nuts.

Fast forward to December 19, 2008. We were moving out of the apartment and trying to shove everything we owned in our two vehicles. Kitty was having a great time. She was running around us, playing in the leaves, just all over the place. Adam had to remove the cat from the backseat of his truck at one point and I had to shoo her from inside our apt.

We packed up, and head out to Phoenix, Arizona. I have the radio cranked up so I stay alert. I thought to myself, thank heavens no one is here to hear me sing off key. We stopped in Alabama, then again in Abiliene, Texas (where it was sooooo cold). We left in the morning and somewhere along the first part of the day, I walkie talkied Adam and asked him if he was making weird noises. Like a baby crying. He thinks I am bonkers.

Now it's about 5:30 pm. I turn my radio down for some quiet time. And I hear that noise again. This time it sounds more like a cat. Again, I radio Adam and ask him if he is making noises. When he tells me no again, I say, "Ok, we HAVE to pull over, I think I am going crazy."

In Deming, New Mexico we stop at a gas station. I'm looking in the back seat. Then I pop the trunk. Adam opens it and we both jump back. A tarp fell out. I start laughing and then Adam looks closer. There was something moving behind the carpet on the side of my trunk. He peels it back and Kitty is peering at us through the darkness.

I take off like a bat out of hell to get this poor thing some food and water from the gas station. Adam's holding on to her. We couldn't just leave her there. So I volunteer to just let her go in my car. We've got about 5 hours til Phoenix. Poor Kitty. She has no idea where she is at and now while I am driving, she wants to explore. The steering column seems like the best place to be. As well as the dash board in front of my face. And my shoulders.

We stopped at a KMart somewhere about an hour later and get her in a carrier. By the time I get to Phoenix, I am so attached to this stupid cat, I am about in tears when Adam tells me we just have to let her go outside. "She'll be back," he told me.

All day long I waited for her. Adam and I were outside for quite sometime playing the game, Does This Smell Like Cat Pee? She was nowhere. Then last night in the rain, she comes back. I was so happy.

Last night we named her Deming (though I will call her Demi). The litter box will be purchased today. And we now have a Christmas addition to the family.

Stupid cat. :)"

Life brings the unexpected and Deming is no exception. This holiday season as I reflect upon the things I am most grateful for, the hitchhiking kitty lands near the top of the list.

Happy holidays.

Going up?

2009-12-04T15:50:00.002-05:00

While helping staff the inpatient pharmacy last night, I got a somewhat frantic phone call from my co-resident, Virginia. "Our flight has been canceled," she said. Say what? We were supposed to be on our way to Las Vegas on late Friday afternoon for a convention and I was in no mood to reschedule flights. I went through the headache of being placed on hold forever and was told that I had 2 options: I could leave at 6:30 Friday morning or I would have to wait until Sunday. Neither option sounded fantastic. I hadn't even begun to think about packing, but on the other hand I really didn't want to wait until Sunday.

I decided to choose the super early option which meant I had a lot to do in a few hours. I flew out the door of the pharmacy and hustled to the parking structure elevator. My mind was racing as I pressed the button for level B. Was my suit clean? Did I have time to go to the bank?

The door closed and the elevator started going down. It passed level B and continued onto level C. Huh. Weird. The elevator hit bottom then started going up again. Once again it passed level B. Um, ok. This was not working out so well. I pushed the lobby button just wanting to get off anywhere at this point. Stopping was not something this elevator wanted to do and my request was denied. I was stuck on a moving elevator.

After about 2 minutes of up and down, I started to mildly panic. As I got close to the lobby level I could hear muffled voices outside. Do I yell for help? I felt kind of stupid yelling so I looked around for the emergency phone. There wasn't one. Great. I pressed the emergency alarm button. Surely someone heard that. As each minute went by my stress level increased. I started to feel really sweaty. The winter coat came off and I clawed through my purse searching for my cell phone. Success! One signal bar was flickering on and off. I prayed that it would be enough to get through to someone.

I called the pharmacy and heard the best thing ever on the other end of the line - a voice! The connection was horrible and Bonnie's voice fade in and out. I tried to keep it simple. "Bonnie. It's Bri. Elevator. Stuck. Send help." All I heard on the other end was laughter (I would have laughed at me too) and "Ok, I'll call for help." Then I waited.

A few more minutes went by and finally the elevator stopped. It was like a scene from a movie. I saw fingers come through the door seam and then it was pried open by a police officer. I burst off the elevator legs feeling like jello. I put my hands on my knees and took deep breaths. Ten minutes of ups and downs was not good for my stomach. "I have never seen that happen," said the officer. Of course he hadn't. This crap doesn't happen to most people.

The officer was nice enough to make sure I got down the other elevator safely. After getting my feet firmly planted on level B I walked to my car and then threw up. Fanfreakingtastic.

Let's hope my luck is better in Vegas.

Offensive

2009-11-21T22:30:00.004-05:00

Wednesday morning I woke up early - Not because I wanted to, but because my nose was assaulted by something akin to the smell of burning rubber. My first reaction was to blame the cat. Maybe she didn't bury something that she should have. I peeked into the litter box and Deming was cleared of any wrong doing. Walking down the stairs, I scrunched my face as the smell grew stronger. I opened the bathroom door and the same smell, but stronger this time, punched me in the face. Huh. Weird. I hollered at Adam to check it out when he woke up, then opened the door which leads to our garage. Bam. Another smell-slap.

By the time I got to work, I had concerns that:
#1: Something was wrong with my car. Perhaps a belt or something was rubbing against something else and causing a horrid stench.
or
#2: Some sort of gas was leaking into our apartment.

When I got to work, I started to think that I smelled funny as well. My co-workers (they are the best) did a sniff test, and yes, something was off. Crap. Now I was the smelly one at work and I still didn't know what the cause was.

Apartment maintenance came to the apartment to help sort out the mystery. The man took one step into our apartment and said, "Smells like skunk - you must have hit one."

Ah ha! That would make some sense - I had driven out to the airport on Tuesday night and probably ran over some roadkill. When I got home from work Wednesday night, I parked my car outside (instead of in the garage) satisfied that the problem would be solved with my car getting some fresh air. I walked to my front door and was taken aback that even with the windows having been open all day, I could still smell the offensive odor without stepping inside. Huh. Interesting.

Thursday the smell would come and go. Actually it didn't really go anywhere. It was more like it was bad and then worse. It had to subside soon, right?

Friday maintenance came by again. At this point our neighbors had complained as well. They had walked around our building looking for signs of a skunk and found nothing. Then they said, "Oh wait. What is that crevice under your porch - a skunk den?" Ah yes, a skunk den. Mr. skunk was letting off bombs at it's leisure and the smell was seeping through the entire apartment.

I woke up Saturday morning, made a cup of coffee, and decided to check out this skunk hole. Stepping outside, I first noticed the hole, then right next to it a live trap. "Cool," I thought. I leaned closer to check it out. It was mostly wrapped in black plastic (to prevent spraying, I assumed). It wasn't until I had my face 6 inches away from the trap that I noticed that something was inside of it. (Yes, I realize the fact that the trap door was closed should have been my first clue, but I hadn't had my coffee yet.) I jumped backwards and then strained to see what was inside. I saw a black and white tail. Frick. That's all I needed to see. I called maintenance and at some point today it was taken away and another trap was left in its place.

It was living in that tiny space under our stoop.

If you look closely in the red box, you can see the tip of its white tail.
I was standing on the wrong end of this animal when this picture was taken.

I hope beyond all hopes that this smell goes away before Thanksgiving. However, worst case scenario, who doesn't like to enjoy their turkey with the lingering smell of burning rubber?

Hibernation

2009-11-16T22:43:00.003-05:00

I figured out what happens to all of the bugs outside when it gets colder: They come into my apartment.

What should have tipped me off to the coming infestation were the wolf spiders that showed up a few weeks back. Need a reminder? Click here. *Shudder* If something as big as those things could creep into my house, how did I convince myself that nothing else would?

My hopes for a bug-free household were destroyed this past 5 days. It was an insect plague. Each day brought a whole new wave of creatures into my home.

Day 1: Horseflies
I wish I could say I had super skills and snatched them from midair with chopsticks, but in fact it was a whole lot easier than that. They showed up seeming intoxicated. I could just walk over to them and pick them up. No resistance. My apartment must have fly roofies? Weird.

Day 2: Ladybugs
I found the first one and it made me smile. They are a kind of cute. One kind of insect that doesn't send me screaming through the hallways. Then I found the second, third, fifth, twentieth... What tipped me over the edge was when I pulled back a curtain to let some natural light inside and one flew out and hit me in the face. I screamed loudly. Someone needs to teach that ladybug some manners.

Day 3: Millipedes
I found three of these lovelies crawling through my carpet with the help of super kitty. Sick.

Day 4: House cricket
This one was drugged as well. Just laying in the middle of my kitchen hanging out. Waiting for a friend, perhaps?

Day 5: Hornet
Ok, so this one didn't get inside of my apartment, but it wanted to. It followed me from my garage and up the stairs while I swung my arms around and screamed. I ran back down the stairs to the open air and shooed it away. My house was already at full capacity. If that hornet came in, a fire marshall would have shown up on my doorstep slapping me with a fine for letting this party get out of control.

Knock on wood, but I believe the trails of critters have stopped trying to make my home their winter bungalow. Wish me luck.

Cantankerous

2009-11-01T22:33:00.003-05:00

Today, I paused in a patient's doorway after noticing the curtain around his bed was partially closed. Generally this closed curtain indicates there is something going on behind it that I don't need/want to see. After a moment more, I realized the patient was trying to change into his street clothes, and it wasn't as easy as he anticipated. His legs were wrapped to help with swelling and the pants which fit perfectly on the way into the hospital now were extra snug around the legs and difficult to get into. A woman, also behind the curtain, was attempting to assist the gentleman and was met with some resistance.

Man: "Just take the bandages off."

Woman: "No, dear. The doctor told you to wear them and you will wear them."

Man: "I will do whatever I damn well please."

Woman: *Laughing* "You will wear these bandages. Now where is your shirt?"

Man: "Underneath that pile of s*** over there."

At that point I must have crinkled the bag of prescriptions and alerted the couple to my presence.

Man: "Come on in, join the party. I can't get my damn shoe on because of these bandages."

His wife smiled.

Woman: "You married, dear?"

Me: "No, ma'am."

Woman: Chuckling and patting her husband's shoulder, "Well, this is what you have to look forward to someday. He's a cantankerous man."

We all laughed and I proceeded to give my discharge instructions so they could get back to their shoe situation.

Me: "You listen to your wife, ok? She seems to take real good care of you."

Man: *Winks* "I suppose she does."

They shared a look that can only be shared between two people who have lived long and loved hard. She knelt down to help him with his shoe. It was clear that without question, she would take care of that "cantankerous man" and he would gladly let her.

Cobb salad, healthcare, and handguns

2009-10-26T22:00:00.002-04:00

I just got back from a whirlwind weekend back home in Nebraska. Time was not my friend - it slipped away from me far too quickly and I wasn't able to see all of the people I planned on, but I was able to attend two incredible events.

The first event, the MS Society wine walk, was a wonderful way to spend time with friends and support a great cause. (My grandfather suffered with the disease for years.) We walked, wined, and shopped with many of the stores donating partial proceeds to the society.

The second event, a wedding, was heartwarming as well. There is nothing like getting all dressed up and celebrating two people in love starting their lives together. Throw in some friends and wine and I was a really happy girl.

So after an exhausting (but oh so much fun) 36 hours in Nebraska it was time to board a plane again and head to my other home. Waking up at 6:30 am to get on a plane after a long, late night isn't my favorite thing in the world to do. I struggled to throw on a hoodie and brush my teeth. To be honest I'm not even really sure if I brushed my hair.

In Chicago the airline needed to bump a person from the flight and offered a free round trip flight in return. The airline lady hadn't even finished her announcement when I threw my hands up in the air to take her up on it. Woo hoo!!! No shame there. I hear "free" and "plane ticket" in the same sentence and I am all over it.

Thinking I'd use my newly acquired 2 hour layover wisely, I headed to Chilis for lunch. As I took a seat at the bar, some guy next to me offered some hand sanitizer. I shouldn't have accepted his kind offer to kill airport germs because apparently with that I also invited conversation. The first thing he asks/tells me about is Obama's healthcare plan. Or as he saw it, the United States going to hell in a handbasket. I smiled and told him I didn't know enough to comment. (A lie, yes, but I wasn't going to get sucked into this firestorm.)

Somehow by declining to comment on the current state of health care I also provoked him to talk about our right to bear arms. I'm still not sure how his mind jumped from doctor bills to gun ownership, but I found myself shoveling cobb salad in my mouth as fast as I could to get away from his overbearing and unsolicited opinions. I was relieved to get my bill and go to my gate.

Boarding the plane, I was pleased to find that I had the emergency row. More leg room = excellent. My excitement was short lived. Guess who occupied the seat next to me? Yup. Chilis dude. He got all excited and said it was fate that we got to sit next to each other. Why didn't I feel so lucky? I spent the next hour and a half in the air with my hood pulled up over my head pretending to sleep.

I suppose putting up with some guy's rant was still worth the free ticket, but for the love of pete, just let a girl eat her salad.

A little doctor

2009-10-17T23:16:00.000-04:00

Walking onto the psych floor, wearing my white coat, and armed with questions for the nurses about a patient who was about to be discharged, I patiently waited while they finished chit-chatting amongst themselves. My questions were eventually answered and after that an unexpected comment was slung my way.

Nurse 1: "Aw, isn't that cute? You look like a little doctor."

Me: Thinking to myself that I was a doctor of sorts. I mean, a doctor of pharmacy, but a doctor nonetheless. I paused for a moment to mentally compose a response, but my momentary lapse allowed another nurse to speak up before I could say anything.

Nurse 2: "Um, she is a doctor. She's a pharmacist."

Nurse 1: "Oh. I see. Well, she looks 19."

I wasn't sure if it was supposed to feel condescending, but suddenly I felt like I was about 5 years old. Did she want to see an ID? With a smile and a shrug I walked away.

I suppose being 28 and looking 19 is probably better than being 28 and looking 37, but once again I found myself trying to prove that I was really truly a pharmacist - or a "little doctor."

*Sigh*

Better luck tomorrow, I guess. Maybe.

Birthday Fun

2009-10-12T15:32:00.004-04:00

Some people dread birthdays. I am not one of those people. I think it's a day for celebration. Another year older and wiser.

My coworkers were awesome and brought cookies and treats.

My parents sent me a cute wallet and Adam got me an awesome book. Anyone not familiar with Frank Warren and his Post Secret Project needs to check out his website. Every Sunday he posts a whole new set of secrets from people all around the country which I find inspiring, sad, and funny - sometimes all at the same time.

Adam had planned a celebratory dinner at a local Italian restaurant. When we got there it was pretty quiet. Just us and a guy playing live jazz music. I know it was supposed to play into the ambiance of the restaurant, but I couldn't help but giggle and think of the scene with the jazz flute from Anchorman. (Click here and fast forward to the 1:15 mark.) The food was amazing, and so was my company.

After that was Husker football - strange for a Thursday. I think they planned it just for me. The game didn't start until late and I struggled to stay awake towards the end. The only reason I knew we scored was when Adam cheered. I tried to pretend that I was still awake and paying attention, but I don't think I was too convincing.

It was a great day and I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who made it so special.

It's just a spider - the sequel

2009-10-09T22:32:00.006-04:00

Exhausted after 14 hours at work, I flopped down on the couch at home to watch mindless television on TLC. After about an hour with eyes drooping it was time to head to bed. I started picking up some random crap laying around the living room - a shopping bag, a stack of papers, a computer bag with a spider on it. Wait. A computer bag with a spider on it?? Nooooooooooo!

I dropped the bag and papers immediately and once again almost threw up. (I really wish my spider reactions weren't tears and vomit.) The spider just sat there.

Shaken, but ticked off, I grabbed a shoe (Adam's shoe) and held it up high in the air ready for battle. After one swat, I think it lost a leg, but it was still crawling. Gritting my teeth, I gave it one more go. The computer bag and the spider didn't stand a chance. The entire mess went straight to the garbage can - heck if I was going to clean off spider goo from my bag!

I know it's October and Halloween is coming up, but I'd rather the spiders stay inside of the haunted houses and stay out of mine. I can't handle much more of this.

**UPDATE**
An hour after I posted this, Deming found another one. It met its demise in almost the exact place it's predecessor did. Two in one night isn't even fair. It's just mean.

Frenemies

2009-10-07T22:15:00.006-04:00

About a month ago a black cat showed up on our front porch - just hanging out, begging for a belly rub. I think it's a neighbor's outside cat, but honestly I'm not sure where it came from. Thinking it would be good for Deming to have some outside stimulation, I held her up to the window so she could see. She started meowing like crazy and jumped up on the window sill.

Her new friend thought the window sill was a great idea and joined the party.

I thought it was really cute the way they were trying to communicate through the window and decided that I would crack open the window a smidge so they could have a kitty cat chat (or whatever the heck cats do).

Bad idea.

The purring and meowing turned into a hissing fit when I opened the window. Apparently Deming and her new outside friend have a love/hate relationship that leans toward hate when they can actually smell each other. Who knew?

Cats are strange.

Damn it feels good to be a gangsta

2009-10-04T23:00:00.003-04:00

Last weekend Adam and I went on a much deserved vacation to Omaha. (FYI, when you mention 'vacation' and 'Omaha' in the same sentence, people laugh at you.) We had a fun-filled weekend planned ahead of us. Family, friends, and FOOTBALL!!!

Husker gamedays in Lincoln are insane. The first thing you notice is the sense of community. Everyone is friendly and happy to be there. Red attire is a must. Each tailgate site hosts its own BBQ where marinated steaks and homemade burger patties are standard. It's heaven.

The game itself is a whole other level of awesome. Goosebumps raise on your arms when the crowd roars. Old people, college kids, and little kids alike spend 4 quarters cheering in support of their team. It is a family environment.

With all of that said, there was one guy who didn't get the memo...

The game ended and we said goodbye to Adam's dad, uncle, and cousin. Walking back to the tailgate site amongst the masses of fans leaving the stadium, we were going to meet up with my parents. We made it back to the truck before anyone else did and about 15 minutes later I spotted my mom. I turned towards the truck to grab a drink and when I turned back around, I saw one of the most bizarre things I have ever witnessed. Some kid, 20 years old at most, was in my dad's face yelling at him. Mom was trying to get my dad to get closer to the truck and away from this nutjob.

Ok, I have to explain something about my dad. He is possibly the nicest man on the planet. Truly. He's the guy who walks around whistling with a smile on his face at all times. He is the LAST person on the face of the planet that anyone would pick a fight with. Yet here I stood trying to understand why some punk in a black and white polo was attempting to fight my father.

Instinctively, and perhaps somewhat irrationally, I placed myself in between my dad and this ruffian. I will refer to him as douchebag (DB) for the remainder of the story.

Me: "Um, what is the problem here?"

DB: "Who the hell are you?" His pupils were as big as dinner plates and surely was doing a little bit more than just drinking.

Me: "I'm his daughter."

(Yes, looking back, I realize that announcing that I was his daughter was not scary, or threatening, and in fact sounded ridiculous.)

DB: Looks me up and down and sneers, "I've turned down better than you," then proceeds to yell over me at my dad. "This is 2009, bitch, I will beat an old man's ass."

I'd like to make two observations. One, I never offered anything to this guy, so I'm not exactly sure what he was turning down. Two, I didn't realize that in 2009 it was in vogue to beat up dads.

It was at this point that Adam looks over to see some dude in my face and then further notices that my dad is somehow involved. Confused, he comes and stands to my right side. My dad's friend flanks my other side and everyone is pretty quiet trying to assess the situation except for me who is still trying to figure out what on earth had happened.

I pleaded with DB's "posse" (4 other guys just standing there) to take their friend and peacefully leave. They just looked at me. Cops had been called by this point, though DB claimed that he had a police scanner and that no one had done such a thing.

Behind me, people are gathering - ready to take care of business if need be, but hoping it wouldn't have to come to that. I stood toe-to-toe with this guy thinking, "Oh my god, I'm going to get punched."

As people became more aware of the situation and the support on our side mounted we started backing this kid up. As he reversed, DB bumped into our tailgate neighbor and turned his agression on him. I took the opportunity to take off running to find some sort of security.

I found security alright - they were tearing apart a brawl on the ground about 200 feet away. Tugging on the yellow shirt of a security lady, I said, "I realize that you have an issue here, but you are about to have another one right down the way if you don't come quick." She uttered a curse word and then took off running after me.

DB wasn't afraid of me. He wasn't afraid of the growing crowd. The one thing he was afraid of was a lady in a yellow shirt. One look at parking lot security and he and his buddies took off with a quickness.

No one was hurt, just more confused than anything, and we all looked to my dad for an answer as to what started the madness. Dad said that while he and my mom were walking back to the tailgate, this kid poked my dad in the chest right where his Husker "N" was. Yelled at him, "Where is your spirit?" His buddy told him not to lay his hands on people. My dad responded the same way, "Don't touch me." Again DB asked, "Where is your spirit?" Dad responded, "Where is yours? I'm wearing red," and kept walking. The guy and his group followed my parents all the way to their vehicle after that just trying to start something that didn't need to be started.

It was unfortunate that the Husker experience was tainted by an unruly "fan," but we still had a great time over all and we got to enjoy a great meal afterwards at Misty's.

Some words of advice: Don't mess with my dad. You will get me in your face faster than you can say "Go Big Red."

It's just a spider

2009-10-01T23:00:00.010-04:00

The scene 5 minutes ago:

Deming takes of running after something in the apartment - probably nothing. I mean, she chases her own tail. She's not the brightest.

I think she wants to play so I chase her. She's making chirping noises in the kitchen. I was thinking that it was the worst game of hide and seek ever.

Turns out, she doesn't want to play with me. She's content playing with this giant arachnid on the floor:

Here is a list of things I do:

Scream for assistance if I see an 8-legged creature
Become nauseous thinking about said creature
Cover my ears and scrunch my face up while someone squishes the invader
Run away and wait for someone to magically dispose of it

What I don't do:

Kill spiders

Adam was not around to flex his man muscles and save me from this mess, so tonight I had three options: let it run free throughout my apartment, capture it, or kill it.

Option one was just ridiculous.

Option two seemed good so I grabbed a plastic cup and cried while I played capture the spider. I felt better for about a second and then realized that I had to proceed to option three - there was no way I was leaving that thing under a cup for the rest of the night.

My weapons of choice were a shoe and a few curse words that would make George Carlin blush. Of course I didn't use my shoe. (Tee hee, sorry Adam.)

That spider has since moved on to a "better place."

I'm going to go throw up now.

Lessons learned

2009-09-29T23:13:00.004-04:00

I taught my first class today. To students. Real live students.

As a perpetual student and a person generally not afraid to speak in public I thought it would be no big deal. However, when you speak to students as a teacher, you notice things that may have never crossed your mind before.

No one cares.
It gets freaky quiet when you have 40 blank faces staring at you.
No one cares.
You can hear the whispering from the back of the classroom even though the students think they are uber sneaky.
No one cares.
The jokes you tell aren't as funny in real life as they were when you were practicing in front of the mirror.
No one cares.
The right speaking speed becomes hyperspeed.
No. One. Cares.

Teaching is tough. The clock becomes your nemesis as you are fully aware that each 'tick tock' brings the class closer to its end and the students get anxious to leave . Cell phones are an evil invention - brick breaker and texting are way more important than your lecture on skin care.

Someone did ask me a question. "Excuse me, Dr. Moody....." If I were sitting down I would have fallen out of my chair. The whole 'Dr.' thing is still new and somewhat uncomfortable - Just last year I was in their shoes.

In the end, I survived and no one threw tomatoes at me or booed. Success!

Fancy coats

2009-09-20T22:36:00.006-04:00

"Wow, look at all of those people in their fancy white coats."

That's what I used to think when I saw the pharmacists and doctors around the hospital.

Then I became one of those people.

At first I felt like a stud. In putting on my white coat, there was an added pep to my step and the world was mine for the taking. I carried papers that looked important and a brand spankin' new green gel pen.

As time passed, my white coat fantasy world started crumbling. It was only a matter of time. I'm the girl who can't walk and chew gum at the same time and now I was supposed to maintain this level of super confidence at all times. Something bad/embarrassing was bound to happen.

Yesterday I strolled into work saying hello to the Saturday morning crew while wearing the magical coat that was supposed to protect me from being a moron. It wasn't until after I had been at work for 20 minutes that I realized my fly was open. Wide open. It wasn't remotely conceivable that you could ignore it if you were paying the least bit of attention. *Sigh*

It's hard to convince a patient that you are truly capable of being in charge of their medication when you can't remember to zip up your pants.

Maybe Operation Stretchy Pants isn't such a bad idea after all. At least I wouldn't have to worry about zippers...

Please tell me it's not a train

2009-09-15T22:30:00.005-04:00

I'm a great believer that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Right now, it's just really far off in the distance.

I've got research proposal deadlines looming, patients to see, a boyfriend to make happy, meetings to attend, drug information questions/consults to investigate and answer, and last but not least I've got to find some time in there somewhere to breathe. It's been stressful to say the least.

I keep having to remind myself that I signed up for this. I signed my name to a contract that locked me into a year of getting paid less (a lot less) to do more. Most of the time I love it, but there comes that moment where you hit the wall. This is my moment.

With all of this whining, comes excuses. Operation Tiny Pants has come to a screeching halt. I've adjusted my eating habits trying to gain control of my portions, but the only exercise I get right now is running up and down the hospital corridors. I keep telling myself, "Next week it will be better." Next week needs to turn into NOW.

Tomorrow I'll wake up early and put on my game face while continuing to search for that light. My only hope is that the light at the end of that tunnel isn't a train.

Compliance

2009-09-06T21:46:00.002-04:00

I am currently on rotation at a clinic for people on blood thinners (aka, warfarin clinic). My days are spent poking patient's fingers, running the blood through a machine, and hoping that the result (their INR) is within the desirable range.

When they are perfectly in range, the patient gets a high five and an appointment to come back and see me in 30 days. When they aren't, it could mean trouble. A INR that is too high means the patient's blood is thinner than we would like and puts them at a higher risk for a bleed. Conversely, a low INR can put the patient at risk for a blood clot. In clinic, we prefer a happy medium.

For some people, you can find an obvious reason for the discrepancy.

Consuming alcoholic beverages
Forgetting to take doses during the week
Eating too many or too few vitamin K rich foods (spinach, brocolli, or greens for example)
A new prescription added to the regimen

For other folks, it is more difficult to figure out what on earth is going on.

A patient came into clinic with an INR that was far higher than the previous results. I drilled the patient with questions:

Me: "Have you been drinking?"

Patient: "No. "

Me: "Have you taken your medications every day this week?"

Patient: "Yes."

Me: "Have you put on a clown suit and juggled kittens recently?"

Patient: "Not this week."

Me: "Have you done anything differently? Come on... ANYTHING?"

I actually ran out of questions to ask.

Then I had a light bulb moment. Maybe the patient wasn't doing anything wrong, perhaps he was actually doing everything right. I started a new line of questioning.

Me: "Do you usually take your medication everyday?"

Patient: "No, not usually. I made a special effort this week."

AH HA! The fact that the patient was now taking the medication as directed instead of at his own discretion made all the difference in the world. It's not often that you find compliance to be the problem.

I'm not a mind reader, people. Meet me half way. I'd even accept a quarter of the way. Anything.

At least it keeps me on my toes.

Cravings

2009-09-03T21:54:00.002-04:00

I see and hear the most random, funny things at work. It's the little things that make the day enjoyable. Things like this make me smile:

Male Patient:
"I've been craving ice cream. Lots of ice cream. Quarts at a time. Is that bad?"

Nurse:
"Maybe you're pregnant."

Male Patient:
"Well, I haven't seen the doctor in a month, so anything is possible..."

Sea of red

2009-09-01T21:25:00.007-04:00

No, not this sea of red (though I will be seeing that in about a month).

I'm talking about the wave of red stupidity that flowed out of my purse today.

When I left clinic today I was in a hurry. Something dripped on my pants after I stepped outside. Like an idiot I looked up to the clear blue, cloudless sky wondering where it was coming from. I spun around in a circle looking for the drippy culprit. Then I figured it out. Possibly the dumbest thing I have done in a while. I forgot to put the lid on my gatorade before I put it in my purse. Sweet.

Red gatorade poured through the bottom of my purse onto my tan pants. My first instinct was to hold it away from me and watch the liquid trickle out. Then I thought, "There is stuff in my purse I should probably save." I must have looked asinine laying a drippy red wallet and a semi-soaked calendar out on the sidewalk. Then I remembered my phone. Oh crap, my phone!! You know, the electronic device that doesn't like to be submerged? Yeah, that thing. In my urgency to pull it out of the wet mess, it flew out of my hand and hit the cement. Somehow the thing still worked, but it was sticky and it didn't open so well. Oops.

Way to go, me.

9 lives

2009-08-30T13:45:00.008-04:00

I've been hesitant to write about this because truth be told, I get a little tearful when I think about how it all could have turned out.

A few weeks ago I thought I killed my cat. Writing that gave me a cold chill.

We had a wooden bed frame in our room that was squeaking horribly. The kind of squeak where you couldn't breathe let alone roll over without the bed creaking and disturbing your sleep. All it needed was a washer or two to make the horrid sound stop, but our eventual plan was to move that frame to the spare bedroom so I thought I would just speed up the process and move it right then and there by myself. I'd like to note that Adam was in the shower and I could have waited 5 minutes for him to get out to help me, but I didn't. I'm stubborn and thought I could do it myself.

The cat was sitting on my desk watching my labored grunts as I tried to push, pull, and otherwise move the mattress with my mind. Finally I get the mattress to move. Inch by inch I scooted the mattress off the edge of the bed frame really kind of proud of myself. Who needs a boy to do hard labor? Not this girl. Finally I got the last bit of mattress on the very edge of the frame. There was just about 8 inches of space between where the mattress sat hovering and the floor. I shoved it off the frame and it made a loud thud on the floor.

Then it was as if I knew even before I really knew. I scanned the bedroom for the cat. Where was she? Seconds later came the most horrible sound I have ever heard: the sound of my cat in clear distress. Oh my god. She was underneath the mattress and box spring.

You know how people talk about getting this rush of adrenaline when something bad happens? Someone may suddenly get the ability to lift a car off of a person when they could barely lift 50 lbs in the moment before that. You had better believe that I became superhuman in the moment that I knew she was under there. Without any effort I lifted both mattress and box springs. Deming was meowing and went running underneath my desk.

I grabbed her and she just kept meowing as I started crying. Oh my god... I had just dropped a bed on my cat. Was she ok? Did I break something? Did I need to take her to the vet? And what on earth would I tell them? "I'm sorry, here is my cat - I just dropped my bed on her." That sounded ridiculous - True, but ridiculous.

I was trembling and in tears when Adam came downstairs. He checked her out and thought that she seemed ok. She was still running around, didn't seem at all injured, just a little frightened. I think I was more shaken up than she was. The next 48 hours I stared at her for any evidence of discomfort or pain. She was fine.

Having come from a home where we didn't have pets growing up, I had no idea what people talked about when they spoke of such love for their animals. In that moment, I understood.

Deming has now survived 3 days in the trunk of my car and a bed falling from the sky. I bet she's grateful cats have 9 lives. I know I am.

Operation Tiny Pants

2009-08-27T20:02:00.004-04:00

For the past 3 years, I have blamed my inactivity and subsequent weight gain on school, stress, and Savannah's fried food. I told myself that when I moved and got settled, all of that would change. No longer would I be in walking distance from Sweet Potatoes restaurant where I could get the most delightful cheesy/buttery/greasy meals. Grits, shrimp, and greens would all be out of easy reach.

Fast forward to the present day. I've been in Kentucky for 2 months now and have somehow fallen even deeper into my bad habits. Now it's not southern food. It's the office snacks. So many office snacks. And I have ZERO will power. None. Whatsoever.

Before you roll your eyes, I don't expect anyone to throw me a pity party. It's not so much the number on the scale that bothers me. It is having to buy an entire new wardrobe because nothing fits. It's expensive!!!

I need support.

Co-workers, I'm talking to you. Slap the bag of Doritos out of my hand and point to my oatmeal instead. Work is where I become weak. I can spin my chair 180 degrees and I have a buffet of snacks staring at me.

I do have good intentions, as we all do, but I've decided that to be successful my quest has to have a name. My battle will now be called: Operation Tiny Pants.

Heck, I'd even settle for Operation Smaller Pants.

If I don't do something quick, I am going to be relegated to Operation Stretchy Pants. Ugh. I refuse.

No excuses anymore. There is always time for a walk and there is a free exercise center at my complex. I have fitness videos and workout clothes. It's time to put all of those things to good use. Maybe tomorrow...

The Club

2009-08-25T18:11:00.008-04:00

It's been just out of my reach for weeks, but on Sunday my bulk-buying dreams came true: We got a membership to the Club.

If you are not sure which Club I am referring to, I mean the Club that puts all other clubs to shame: Sam's Club. WOO HOO!!!!

I love a store where:

You have the option of pushing around a flatbed on wheels instead of a cart.
A box of granola bars weighs more than you do.
You can buy toilet paper that hasn't been opened.... gross, who does that?

I walked around laughing at the possibilities. We needed more Clorox, but did I need 4 containers of it? Probably not.

We settled on a few necessities:

Note how incredibly bad ass Adam is trying to look
while standing next to a tower of paper products.

The problem with buying things in mass quantities is finding a place to put it all.

If you've got a spill, I've got you covered.

So, after becoming part of the Sam's Club elite, I thought it couldn't get any better. How wrong I was. Today I had another fantastic Kroger find! This evening's find was much less disturbing than my last find.

Gummy bears for a quarter?!?! Yippie! I'll take 8 of 'em!

I promise they are not expired, open, or otherwise adulterated.... At least I hope not.

Dents

2009-08-21T20:12:00.002-04:00

Two unfortunate things happened to me this week:

1. Someone hit my car.

In the parking lot, I assume. They left a nice little dent and some paint above my front tire. No note. Thanks, jerk.

2. Someone almost hit me with their car.

My walk to and from work can be somewhat treacherous at times, but this lady took the cake. She blared her horn at the car turning in front of her. That car was stopped in front of her because they were rightfully concerned about the people in the crosswalk - aka, me and three other people. The first car safely and appropriately turned. Right after that the walk sign turned green and the pedestrians started to cross the road. Crazy lady lurches forward AT us blaring her horn. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but since I started driving I have been under the impression that pedestrians have the right of way - especially when the little walking man says so. This woman must have missed that class. She is cursing us up and down inside of her car and honking as if we are a nuisance. I was the one closest to her car and I gave her a "What in the hell is wrong with you," look and pointed at the sign that gave us the right of way. She points right back at the same sign which made no sense at all. Then she hits the gas and lurches towards us again! I jumped to the side and kept walking as she peeled out and took off around the corner.

All in all, I'm glad it was my car that was hit. A dent in my car is far more desirable than a dent in me.

Living and loving

2009-08-19T21:25:00.013-04:00

Yesterday marked 3 years of dating for me and Adam. I was super excited all day long and couldn't wait to get off of work to see him. We had a big dinner date planned that evening so I was glad when the day seemed to fly by with psych clinics and meetings. Then I got back to my office and all hell broke loose. Suddenly 4:30 seemed like it was coming much too quickly and the work that I had to complete in that time frame became overwhelming. I hurriedly attempted to type my clinic notes, then realized that 'quick' does not equal 'proficient,' so I slowed down to my normal pace which can be painfully slow at times. 4:30 came and went and as each minute ticked by I was more and more determined to get my work done and get the heck out of dodge.

At about 5pm I got to leave. (Not horrible, I realize, but
when you've got exciting plans it is agony.) I was defeated from my long day and knew that I had to put on my happy face for our night out. When I opened the door roses and a card were waiting for me. The stress from work dissipated immediately and was replaced with genuine happiness. Take note that the only 'vase' we had in the house was a gigantic beer mug (which only made me smile more).

Adam had scoped out a restaurant earlier in the day, and took me to a fantastic little Italian place. We had dinner and drinks and then decided to check out an English pub that was nearby. We had been pretty cooped up in the house since we've moved, so it was really nice to just get out and spend the evening together checking out what the city has to offer. That night it had great food and great company to offer.

I was dead set on getting a picture of our evening, but it was kind of weird asking some random person at the restaurant to take one. Self photography ensued which is always awkward. You know the kind: One of you is trying to hold the camera as far away as you can while looking graceful, but instead you bring your chin in and look like a scrunch-necked weirdo. Then you have to take the picture over again. And again. Finally a decent photo comes out where you haven't accidentally used the zoom and have gotten a close-up of someone's nose. He put up with me and we finally got this picture on our deck.

We spent the rest of the evening at home just talking and were asleep by 10:30.

Wild and crazy, I know.

I wouldn't change a thing.

Things that go bump in the night

2009-08-15T20:14:00.010-04:00

This past week has been a mishmash of fear, growth, and (eventually) triumph. Adam started his 7 night tour on the night shift last Friday. It was something I had been mentally prepping myself for since the move to Kentucky. I knew it would be odd... I have always had someone else in the house whether it was my parents, a roommate, or a really tough roommate's dog, Oliver. Alright, perhaps the dog was more of a lover than a fighter, but he still made me feel better.

I kissed Adam goodbye last Friday and did what any girl would do who is ready to take on the night at home alone - I went out with some coworkers and avoided it entirely. A girls night out with dancing and drinks was a fantastic way to spend my first night "alone."

Saturday I sent him off to work again, but this time it was a different. I didn't have any crazy amazing plans to look forward to. It was just me, myself, and I. Everything went ok until about 11 pm when I decided it was bedtime. I checked the alarm, triple checked the doors and windows, and then attempted to go to bed.

It didn't go well. My nerves got the best of me and it was a struggle to ignore the false alarms going off in my head.
"Did you lock the doors?"
"What if you missed one?"
"What if, what if, what if...."

I got up about 3 different times to check, recheck, and triple check the locks. Then I decided it was time for a weapon. The Louisville Slugger seemed ineffective in case of emergency. I finally settled on a pocket knife next to my pillow. Yeah, that's right, if you want to mess with me, you are going to mess with my 2 inch pocket knife.

After a fitful night of tossing and turning, I fell asleep about 5 am. It was a short lived victory, as my rest was promptly interrupted with a "BANG!" I sat straight up, adrenaline flowing. "Someone was in the house," I thought. I quickly realized that my life was not in danger, it was the darn cat playing with the cupboards again. I don't think I fell asleep again until the morning sun peeked around our curtains.

As the nights went by, sleeping became a little easier. Perhaps this was because each night that went by brought me closer to the night when Adam would get to stay home with me again. I still woke up throughout the night, but fell back to sleep a little quicker each time. I developed my routine of lock checks, quiet time, and a phone call home before bed. It calmed me down and made it easier to fall asleep.

The end of this 7 day stint could not come quickly enough for me and last night we had big plans to go out for a nice dinner. Things didn't go exactly as planned, however, because when I got home, I curled up next to sleeping Adam and took a 2 hour nap instead. Take out Thai food (yum) and DVRed tv shows occupied the rest of our evening. Truly, I didn't care what we did - I was just glad to have Adam back home so he could fight off the things that go bump or bang in the night.

Cheapy TP update

2009-08-09T11:22:00.007-04:00

I have not used the toilet paper yet.

It still makes me a little nervous.

People have brought up questions that I cannot answer, nor do I really want to think about in depth, but I'll share them with you and you can come to your own conclusions.

1. Was it returned? Did someone take it home, use a roll, and actually bring it back to the grocery store for a refund? Who does that?

2. Was the missing roll kidnapped? Do the police need to get involved? Do I need to plaster "missing" posters around the city and offer a reward?

3. Was it a bathroom emergency? Was someone walking down the TP aisle and thought, "Oh man, I have to go, and I have to go NOW."?

4. What if someone tampered with the remaining rolls? A terroristic attack of sorts. They'll get you when you're most vulnerable.

5. Was it simply a juice spill emergency and that was the closest absorbent item around?

I'll never know the true story. Personally, I like to think that the missing roll is on an adventure - It broke out of it's plastic jail and rolled away to a life of freedom.

Cheapy TP

2009-08-03T22:31:00.007-04:00

Bad buying habits are hard to break, but ever since I came to the realization that money doesn't grow on trees, I've tried to be thrifty. It's hard. It used to be that I would run out to Target on a whim and go crazy buying needed and mostly un-needed items. Now I don't dare tackle any store without a list. I have my old roommate, Heather, to thank for the list making.

Well, today I hit a new level of thrifty awesomeness.

While shopping at Kroger I walked by the clearance section. Most of the time there is just a bunch of random crap sitting there expired, but today was different. I found a treasure:

Yeah.... I bought a pack of OPEN toilet paper.
It was missing a roll.
An entire discussion went on in my head before deciding on the purchase. Here's how it went:

Me: "WOO HOO!!!! CHEAP TOILET PAPER!!!"

Grossed out me: "Open toilet paper?? Are you freaking serious?"

Me: "Absolutely! It's like it has my name on it!"

Grossed out me: "That's disgusting... why is it open in the first place?"

Me: "I don't know, but it is 99 cents!! "

Grossed out me: "Whatever. You're weird."

Me: "But it's Charmin!"

Grossed out me: "Ugh, go away."

So yeah, now I have oddly opened (but taped shut) toilet paper. I'm not sure how I feel about this yet, but it's in my living room.

I get by with a little help from my friends

2009-07-29T19:05:00.007-04:00

Soaring stress levels.

Out of control food cravings.

Fear.

Doubt.

Fits of laughter only brought on by panic.

I can only say thank you to my friends and family who have put up with me over the past 2 weeks. I don't even know how I put up with myself!

My co-residents were amazing and had to deal with my insecurities 8 hours a day at work. Virginia brought me homemade pickles. Mmmmmm.... pickles. Tristan brought cookies that Michelle made. Mmmmmm.... cookies. Tara and Meghan enabled my addiction to salty and sweet treats in our office. I got high fives and encouragement in the weeks leading up to my exams.

Sunday night, my paralyzing fear was briefly lifted with Amanda's revelation that she wanted this to be her future pet:

I don't think I have ever laughed so hard in my entire life. I thought the picture had been photoshopped. She informed me that this was a Maine Coon cat. Again I thought that it was a fantasy animal like a unicorn or a liger:

Deb: What are you drawing?
Napoleon Dynamite: A liger.
Deb: What's a liger?
Napoleon Dynamite: It's pretty much my favorite animal. It's like a lion and a tiger mixed... bred for its skills in magic.

So yeah, the Maine Coon is the real deal and I'm not going to lie, it would scare the crap out of me. It would need its own seat at the dinner table and I think you'd have to register it as an exotic pet.

I took the exam on Monday afternoon, went to my car and cried because I swore I just failed. Adam consoled me with PF Changs and a trip to the apartment swimming pool. And then I waited.

I wasn't very patient. I called the board of pharmacy on Tuesday morning to see if I had passed. The man on the other end sounded annoyed and told me to wait 3 business days. No way, Jose. I'd be calling the next day.

Today, I held back my insane urges to repeatedly call the board.... until lunch time. Then I made Virginia do it. :) I think I blacked out until I heard the words, "Ok, thanks, and what is her license number?" A license number means I passed!

I'm official. It feels great.

This says it all

2009-07-27T00:31:00.006-04:00

Deming has got the right idea. It's sleep time.

12 hours and counting.... tick tock.

Dreams of Parkinson's related treatments and overdose antidotes shall greet me when my head hits the pillow in 5, 4, 3, 2, Zzzzz...............

Panic sets in

2009-07-25T20:51:00.006-04:00

Walls are closing in on me and I am wearing panic like a jacket. It's not a very fashionable jacket mind you - It's uncomfortable and it's tight. I can't wait until Monday afternoon when I can take it off.

Why?
The NAPLEX (licensing exam) is in 1.5 days.
Dun dun dun.

I am mildly freaking out, but trying to control the urge to run out of my apartment screaming with several things:

The Meatloaf 'Bat ouf of Hell' CD from 1977
A bubble bath
The realization that 93% of people pass this test - I have a pulse and paid attention in class therefore I should pass
A candle from Bath and Body Works
An inhaler
Watching my cat have active dreams like a dog
Watching this video for the millionth time (it just doesn't get old)

Enough with the delays... back to studying.

Wish me luck and pray that the information which has gotten lost in the cracks and recesses of my brain somehow finds its way out on Monday.

(FYI: I did pass my law exam!)

Does she have a manual?

2009-07-19T16:03:00.002-04:00

When cat ownership was suddenly thrust upon me last December, I was kind of excited about it. Ok, that's an understatement. I was really really excited about it.

Look at this face:

Deming looks so calm.
So innocent.
I should have known better.

This was the cat who was determined to get her way and live with the people she stalked at the apartment complex. The cat who MacGyvered her way into the trunk of my car when we left Savannah for Phoenix. The cat who wedged herself in my wheel well for 3 days for a cross country road trip.

Have you ever tried to train a cat?
Bwahahahahaha.
There is no training a cat.

For the most part, she's a good kitty, but when her attention seeking switch gets flipped Deming changes from calm, cool, and collected, to LOOK AT ME!

There are a few things I've learned over the past 7 months:

If I make sure her food bowl is full before bedtime, I avoid the uncomfortable eyeball lick at 3 am. Yes, you read that correctly. If she's hungry in the middle of the night she licks my eye. Fantastic.

Paper products = catnip. You know the excuse, "My dog ate my homework?" It's true in this case. She will chow down on books, bills, and cardboard boxes. If anything is at all important, it had better be put in a drawer. In fact, as I write this, she's eating my research proposal paper.

We find the TV fascinating and so does she although she doesn't really watch it. She could care less about what is on the boob tube. Deming wants to sit in front of it. And then she wants to paw at it which thrills Adam to no end (note the sarcasm).

Cabinet doors are the best play things. I know she's bored when I hear, "Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!" She usually doesn't go inside of the cupboards, she just wants to let us know that she's around and wants entertainment. And she knows it's wrong. She'll bang on a cupboard then peek around the corner to see if we are paying attention.

Just like us, she likes to be snuggly in blankets. You have to be careful not to accidentally sit on her.

If bedroom doors aren't fully closed she will open them. If they won't open, she'll just keep trying. This results in more of the "Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!" noises we know and love.

Deming forgets where she is sometimes and falls off windowsills or backs of chairs. Then she tries to act all cool like, yeah I meant to do that. At least I know she's my cat. We're both terribly clumsy.

This cat is trouble. But we love her just the same. Most days.

(Betty, the bullet points were for you.)

Snack Happy Web Surfer

2009-07-18T11:08:00.001-04:00

Everyone deals with stress differently. Some people shop while others do productive things like exercise. Eating and avoidance top my list of coping skills.

When something important is looming over my head I can suddenly tell you EVERYTHING that is going on in the world because I triple-check every website at least 5 times an hour. I could probably give you an up to date account of the weather conditions in Sydney, tell you the makeups and breakups of celebrity couples, and also give you 21 tips for new home buyers. I can't help myself. It's a sickness.

Web surfing wouldn't be complete for me if I didn't have something to munch on. Munching = shoveling random foods into my face. You know how pregnant women get cravings? I get those too as my stress levels increase. I'll decide that a box of pasta sounds good. And some ice cream. And some olives. And a handful of peanuts. And pancakes. You get the picture. Not gonna lie, it gets crazy around here and you don't want to get in my way.

On a scale of 1 to 10 my stress level is an 11 right now (hence the blogging distraction). Two exams currently block my path to freedom: Kentucky law and the NAPLEX. These two tests will strike fear into any graduated pharmacists soul. If you pass, you are official. If you fail... well... you just don't want to do that.

I took my law exam yesterday and it was absolutely horrible. And now I wait. The state will send me a letter sometime in the next week or so letting me know my fate. I am kind of OCD about checking the mail at this point.

In 9 days I take the NAPLEX. It's the clinical portion of the exams. It frightens me. Big time. However, if you live anywhere close to me you could use this to your advantage because I am cooking up a storm. Crockpots are full and baking pans are being utilized to the max.

Don't worry, I've got Tums on standby.

I met someone today

2009-07-11T13:56:00.001-04:00

~ Humankind cannot bear very much reality. ~ T.S. Eliot

Yesterday I got paid. I stared at my bank account feeling quite giddy. I had been patiently awaiting the arrival of my first official paycheck for a long time now. Three years to be exact.

That money had plans.
Very specific plans.
Plans that had me squirming in anticipation.

Was I going to go on a frivolous spending spree?
Not a chance.

An expensive celebratory dinner?
Nope.

I was going to get a membership at Sam's Club.

There moments in your life when you realize that something has changed. I realized that I had officially become an adult the moment I found myself more excited about a membership to a store where I could buy 10lb cans of applesauce than the prospect of buying a new wardrobe.

*Sigh*

Anyhow, I figured that after I paid off my outstanding bills, I'd have a few hundred dollars left to spend at the Sam's superstore. I was looking forward to coming home with more meat than I knew what to do with and perhaps enough toilet paper to supply the entire apartment complex.

Alas, today I was introduced to someone.

Bri, meet Reality.

I thought I was ready for Reality. I had been prepping myself for this meeting for a long time, but never knew when she would arrive.

Reality stepped into my home this morning and smugly let me know that I had forgotten about a bill which required the remaining portion of my paycheck - and $30 more. Crap. She wasn't nice about it. She didn't sugar coat it. She wanted that money and she wanted it now.

So now Sam's club will have to wait and I will continue to eat ramen and eggs for dinner with the occasional box of Mac 'N Cheese for good measure.

Go away Reality. It turns out I'm not ready for you yet.

Do we have __________?

2009-07-07T22:19:00.001-04:00

Right now our townhouse is looking pretty darn spiffy. Most things are in their rightful place. We even splurged on a couch cover as evidenced in the photo below.

Let it be noted that this couch cover shifts every time you sit on or even just look at it. I am always adjusting it back into place, but it still beats the pepto. The chairs are still a work in progress...

I am now at the point where I find myself looking for things that I know we had at some point along the way. Things that are not hugely important, but could really help out. An air pump to inflate a basketball, for example. Why would I have just thrown that away? No idea, but now we don't have one. Same goes for the food strainer. Who on earth knows where that went.

What we do have on the other hand, are two irons. Because that seems necessary. Oh, and THREE hair straighteners. I have a feeling I am going to be making a phone call to my mom tomorrow asking her if I was a kleptomaniac when I left their house.

There are some things that we don't have yet, nor have we ever owned. Like patio furniture. We have a glorious deck with nothing to put on it.

The other day I got desperate and dragged one of the pink living room chairs out there. I am nothing but a classy lady.

Sooner or later we'll get around to buying the stuff we need and getting rid of one of the irons... unless me and Adam decide to get wild and crazy and have a head-to-head ironing competition. Then we'll be set.

I'm new - don't judge

2009-07-03T11:50:00.001-04:00

There are a lot of things I need to learn about my new surroundings. Specifically at my job. People see my white coat and assume I am the gatekeeper to all of the information they need. Let me tell you, that is not the case. When I can find my way from my office to the lunchroom without getting lost in a linen closet I silently cheer.

Usually when I walk into a room, I am bombarded with lots of questions that I cannot answer.

"When am I leaving?"
"Can I get a wheelchair?"
"Why can't I get my pain meds now?"
"Will you get me another shirt? This one is too small."

Sometimes the questions are awesomely ridiculous:
Walking onto the 3rd floor a nurse hollers down the hallway, "Who stepped in poop?!?!"
As long as it wasn't me, I am cool with it. *Quick shoe check.* Nope not me.

Seriously folks, at this point I am lucky if I can remember the code that lets me back into the pharmacy area. I have no idea what is on the patient lunch menu or why it smells funny in the hallway. I wish I did. It would make my life so much easier. But at this point, I just have to smile and shrug.

Yesterday I had to do a patient admission interview. Fairly routine at this point. I walk down the hallway and as I am ready to confidently walk into the patient's room, I am greeted with something unfamiliar: The red tape.

I don't know much, but I know that red tape in a room means, "Don't cross me without proper personal protection." Ok, I can handle this. I just need to find a gown and gloves. I do a 360 and try to figure out where I would get such items. After about 3 minutes of looking, I see a nurse down the hallway. I run up to her and ask her where I should go to get gowned and gloved. "The patient's door," she replied. Ohhhhhhh, I see. She means the door I stood in front of for 3 minutes completely bewildered.

Fantastic. I now have the gown in my hands and I open it up feeling victorious. Now was my second problem: which way does the gown go on? Crap. I have watched enough episodes of ER to figure this out, right? Hmmmmm.... do I put it on like a jacket, or like a patient gown with the open back? Once again, I run down the hallway to ask the same very nice, extremely patient nurse what I should do. "Back open," she informs me. I thanked her and went along my merry way feeling a little dumb, but at least with my gown on the right way.

Week two of my new gig is now complete. I'm learning a lot along the way, but for now I am still new, so please don't judge me. And if you do judge, please do it silently.

Nothing to do nowhere to go.

2009-06-28T22:24:00.001-04:00

Do you know what me and Adam did this weekend? Whatever we wanted to.

I didn't set an alarm, had nowhere to be, and loved every second of it.

We took the time to make ourselves a homemade breakfast (at noon) and meandered over to the pool for the afternoon.

When we got back home we took naps. Totally unnecessary naps. Because we wanted to.

We watched movies, spent time enjoying each others company, and chose to ignore the clothes that still need to be hung up from the move.

It was glorious.

Tomorrow I will wake up early, go to work, and do something productive. But tonight, in this moment, I choose to do nothing.

What do you call a guy with two black eyes?

2009-06-27T20:09:00.001-04:00

I just finished my first week as a resident at the VA. The first two days were long, drawn out days of orientation. Wednesday we (me and two other residents) actually started our work in the pharmacy.

I felt like a kid on Christmas when my boss handed me my crisp, long, white jacket with "PharmD" embroidered on it.

We also got pagers. Am I important to have a pager? Apparently someone thinks so. I promise I will try to hide my surprise and/or fear the first time it goes off.

Last but not least, we have an office... with a phone extension... you know, so people can get in touch with me if they need to. Eeeeek!

My pharmacy orientation started with learning how to process new admissions to the hospital. My job was to go over the patient's old meds, compare them with their new hospital meds, and make sure everything matched up. This includes a patient interview. I took a deep breath and took the stairs to the 3rd floor to talk to a patient. I was extremely nervous.

I walk in to the room and ask patient X if he was indeed patient X. He nods and beckons me to come closer to his bedside. I scoot closer. He motions me to come even closer. I am awaiting a question I can't answer or some fantastic revelation.

Patient X: "Do you know what you tell a guy with two black eyes?"

Me: "No, sir."

Patient X: "Nothing. He's already been told twice."

I think I am going to like this place.

Destination Kentucky

2009-06-25T22:33:00.001-04:00

“All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware.” - Martin Buber

My journey has been a long one.

It began in Nebraska where my parents never thought I would leave my undergraduate college. I did.... 6 years later.

Shortly after I graduated I got the phone call that I had been waiting on for 2 years. "Are you still interested in our program? We have a spot for you." That southern voice on the other end of the line filled me with joy. I had gotten accepted to pharmacy school. Panic set in when I realized I was going to be moving ten days later to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. With the support of my parents and friends back home I packed my tiny car full of clothes and I left.

I was goal driven when I arrived in Savannah. I wasn't concerned about finding friends or the love of my life - I wanted to get my degree and get back home to what I knew. Then I met Maria, Heather, Amanda, and Chasity. There was also a gentleman who caught my eye. Over the course of 3 years I endured stress like I had never known. I also felt support like I had never known. The network of my parents, my closest friends back home (Amina, Anna, Erica, Andrea....), my new Savannah family, and a muddle or two helped me make it through every day.

Graduation almost seemed to sneak up on me this time around. Was I headed home? Nope. Next up: Kentucky. Yes, Kentucky. Never in a million years would I have ever suggested to anyone that I would end up anywhere but Omaha. Once again, my support system kept me going, specifically my parents. I couldn't have done any of this without them. They donated so much time, energy, and funding to get me to this point.

So now I sit in Lexington, KY with the guy who keeps me sane and a cat who likes to slam cupboards open and closed. I have a fantastic new job as a resident and I am looking forward to discovering what the next few years have to throw at me.

Bring it on world, I am ready for the ride.

Sneaky rays of light

2009-06-14T21:18:00.002-04:00

Sunburns sneak up on you. Just when you think you have them figured out, they maneuver around your SPF and leave you with an evening destined for aloe and air conditioning.

Sunday afternoon I went to the College World Series and as we arrived I pointed out the fools that got into a fight with the sun on Saturday and lost. People were passing out sunblock in handy packets so I grabbed one for later - Adam would need it eventually, I thought. As the day wore on, he finally put some on. I did not.

I checked my shoulders for lines and thought I was safe from mother nature's wrath. I still didn't apply the sunscreen. Looking to my right my mom was burning to a crisp and my dad's knees were starting to turn rosy. Yet, still I was too cool for sunscreen.

I'm home now.... sunburned like the rest. Dangit!

Bittersweet

2009-06-12T18:26:00.001-04:00

Today marked my last day of clinical rotations.

5 1/2 years ago I began my quest to be a pharmacist. I interviewed at a local chain pharmacy and they hired me. (Why, I'm not quite sure - I had pink eye and looked really cool.)

They saw all of my ups and downs - When I initially applied to pharmacy schools I got rejection letters. They urged me to keep trying and I was as determined as ever. This time, I wasn't going to take no for an answer - I applied to 7 schools. The rejection letters started coming again, but they supported me and told me the right place would come along. Sure enough I was eventually accepted. After calling my parents, I called work. They could barely understand me through my excited sobs. They wished me luck and welcomed me back with open arms every holiday break.

Today I took off my original lab coat for the last time as a student. I guess it was supposed to feel like a giant weight had been lifted, but it was a little bittersweet. My co-workers had a party day complete with amazing coffee cake and pizza. At the close of the day they gifted me with some dishes so I didn't have to eat off of paper plates once I got to Lexington. I gave hugs all around and when I got to the last one I burst into tears. It's not like I will never see them again, but I closed a chapter of my life. And they were there to see all of it.

To my co-workers (you know who you are): Thank you.

Movin' on up - hand me on down

2009-06-05T14:56:00.001-04:00

Three years ago when I started pharmacy school I had all of these grand ideas about what would happen when I graduated and I was "rolling in money."

Now I am 15 days away from graduation and money is not raining down on me like my imagination would lead me to believe. It turns out that moving is expensive. Licensing is expensive. And furnishing our empty townhouse is, well, really expensive.

So, Adam and I have done some shopping at the best store ever: my parents' house.

They have been ever so generous and we are able to furnish our new place with some of the old furniture that I grew up with that has since found its home in the basement. I am trying to keep an open mind and not be picky because in my head my new home was decorated like it came straight out of a Pottery Barn magazine. Now it will just take some creativity. Cheap creativity.

Most of the stuff is great. And then there is the pink floral living room set.

They are incredibly comfortable.

But they are pink.

And floral.

Anyone have any ideas on how to accessorize these bad boys and tone down the Pepto-ness?

I'm not stupid

2009-05-29T14:59:00.002-04:00

Last night at work an older woman asked to speak to the pharmacist. She was concerned that using her inhaler was causing her blood pressure to increase. The pharmacist started asking her questions.

Pharmacist: "How are you using your inhaler?"

Woman: *Annoyed tone*
"Like I am supposed to."

Pharmacist: "Ok, I get that, but could you explain to me what you do when you use it?"

Woman: *More annoyed*
"I use it like my doctor tells me to! I think I am getting too much medication when I inhale."

Pharmacist: "Alright. How many times do you click the medication release button?"

Woman: *Raising her voice*
"I click it once and breathe in twice. I must be getting twice the medication. Something is wrong with this thing."

Pharmacist: "Ma'am, if you only click the button once, it doesn't matter how many times you breathe in, you are still only getting one dose. Are you sure you aren't clicking the release button twice?"

Woman: *Almost yelling*
"I'm not stupid!!!!!"
*Storms off*

So.... Have you ever seen the seemingly idiotic warnings on products? The warnings that say things like "Please don't drink the shampoo" are there for a reason... BECAUSE SOMEONE DRANK THE SHAMPOO! When someone comes to us in the pharmacy, we ask basic questions and also questions that may seem odd. No, I don't think you are stupid, but I have seen and heard a lot of odd situations. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if you told me that you thought that you were supposed to stick the ibuprofen tablet in your ear when you had an earache.

So give me a break and bear with me when you come to me for help. I didn't seek you out.

The little things

2009-05-21T10:29:00.001-04:00

Kids are awesome. They are honest, silly, and can make observations about their environment that as adults we often don't see.

Last weekend we had some family friends over for dinner. At 2 years old, little Halle was cracking me up all night. We were all having some adult beverages at one point and she asked, "Papa Mark gonna drink your dinner?" What do you even say to that?!

I also love the innocence of children - which is why I think this is beautiful:

Culinary genius

2009-05-19T14:40:00.002-04:00

I love to cook. It's a stress reliever for me and the results are generally pretty darn good. I feel a sense of accomplishment when a meal is perfectly executed and I pride myself on preparing different kinds of food so we don't get bored. You want homemade pesto? Done. Pork chops? Done. I try to stay away from the pre-made freezer or boxed meals because everything is just so much better with fresh ingredients.

When me and Adam moved in with my parents, Adam was introduced to our go-to family meals. Quesadilla Thursdays are always fun. Steaks are always superb. And then there is Ramen & Eggs (ramen noodles cooked with 1/2 the water, 1/2 the seasoning, then after those are cooked, crack an egg on top, cook the egg, and serve). The first time Adam had this Ramen concoction, his eyes lit up like he was just given a million dollars. He asked, "Why haven't you ever made this for me before?" as if I had been withholding the holy grail for the past 3 years.

Now he eats it all the time. He loves it.

I suppose I should be grateful. A five minute meal can come in handy from time to time. I just find it amusing that after years of cooking for him that was what floated his boat.

You learn something new every day. :)

Just a little louder

2009-05-18T23:00:00.001-04:00

Sometimes I find it astounding that in just over a month, someone is going to hand me a doctorate degree.

Case in point: A family approaches me at the pharmacy yesterday holding two boxes. They don't speak any English and anything that I learned in my medical Spanish class has now gone out the window. I assumed they were wondering which box of vitamins would be the best for the woman they were pointing at. There was actually no difference between the two products and so I took one box in each hand and said, "It's the same thing." The gentleman took the boxes back with a questioning look and pointed at the woman again and asked if it was for her ojos (I actually remembered that meant eyes), and I think something about her bones. I nodded, pointed at the boxes and again said, "They are the same thing." He holds up the boxes again as if to ask "Which one?" My response was to practically yell, "SAME!!!" at this poor family - at which point I realized that we just had a language barrier, the people were not deaf, and talking louder would not help anything.

I really hope this degree I get comes with a English to Spanish dictionary.... and some common sense.

Perhaps I am doing it wrong

2009-05-15T16:32:00.001-04:00

So my friend Betty just wrote a blog on the whole Jon & Kate + 8 possible/probable divorce happenings that have recently been in the news and it got me thinking. How do people expect to treat each other with such blatant disrespect and then expect their relationships to last? I don't claim to be a relationship genius - believe me, I've made more than my share of mistakes - but there are some things that need to happen between two people to make a long-lasting and meaningful relationship.

I do not and will not ever understand the couples who constantly fight. Privately, publicly - it doesn't matter - some people will fight just for the sake of fighting. Simple decisions like having chicken or fish for dinner will ignite WWIII. How on earth do these people think they are going to make it through the big stuff in life?! Even better is when these couples announce that they are going to get married... because that fixes everything.

This is not to say that people should not disagree. It's absolutely normal and healthy to disagree with your significant other, but doing so in a productive way will save both of you the anger and aggravation that comes along with a knock down fight.

But hey, who am I to judge? Maybe tonight I should pick a fight with Adam just for fun. Perhaps I am doing it all wrong.

I'll let you know how that works out. :)

Pants optional

2009-05-11T23:12:00.001-04:00

In December of 2008 Adam and I made the big move out of Savannah and into his mom's house in Phoenix. We were there for 3 months, then made another move to my parent's house in Omaha. In theory we were going to be saving a ton of money and were going to be able to spend quality time with our families. While both of those things are true, there was one thing I did not take into consideration....

In a house occupied by parents, pants are not optional. I don't mean to make people think that I never wear pants or I am a nudist or anything, but when you live alone you can do anything you want in your underwear. Eating Cheerios, vacuuming, or waking up at 3 am to grab a glass of orange juice can all be done in the comfort of your skivvies. This is not so acceptable when other people are in the house with you.

Today I start the 33 day countdown when I will again have a place to call home and pants are once again optional.

Excuse me?

2009-05-09T11:59:00.001-04:00

Walking into an apartment complex:

Apt Lady: "So what are you looking for in your future home?"
Me & Adam: "Somewhere that allows pets and has a nice kitchen."
Apt Lady: "Do you have a preference on which floor you would like to live on?"
Me: "Not the bottom one - I worry about noise."
Apt Lady: "What kind of noise? I live on the bottom floor and I don't hear anything."
Me: "I don't want to hear people having sex above me."

*Silence*

Adam: *Looks at me in horror*
Apt Lady: *Looks at me in horror*
Me: *Thinking to myself that perhaps I should have turned on my internal filter*

Apt Lady: "Well... I don't think that should be a problem here..."

At this point I feel the need to explain that I have lived in several places where I hear lots of things going on above my head and that was the first example that I could come up with. We had also nicknamed our last neighbor "Thud" because that is all we would hear when he came home and played with his dogs.

We didn't end up getting an apartment there. :)

Oink oink

2009-04-30T17:19:00.000-04:00

I don't hate a whole lot of things. Cooked carrots maybe. But my list is pretty short.

I hate the swine flu.

In the first 17 minutes of working last night 3 people asked me for face masks. I'm no genius, but I'm pretty sure that that $4.99 pack of three woodworking face masks are NOT going to protect you from the teeny tiny virus particles. Tie a freaking t-shirt around your face and it would probably have the same effect. But whatever folks, knock your socks off.

Blind leading the blind

2009-04-28T17:56:00.001-04:00

Adam and I are heading out to Kentucky this coming weekend to try and secure some housing. Ever tried to investigate places to live via the internet? It's so frustrating! Why do the people taking the pictures of these houses assume that I would like to see 14 pictures of the kitchen then just a handful of the rest of the house? Give me one good pic of each of the rooms, one of the outside, and one of the backyard and I'd be thrilled!

Then come the details: We'd love something with a 2 car garage (no more vehicle break-ins would be awesome) a good kitchen, and a fenced in backyard. Finding all 3 is proving to be difficult.

In our ideal world, Adam will be getting a 7-on-7-off night shift gig somewhere. I have no problem with him being gone at night BUT I would like to feel secure. That security for me = a dog. For some reason I don't think Deming (our cat) will prove to be my ultimate protector.

So here is the problem: While I would LOVE to have a fence to let a dog outside, that may not happen. Would it be completely crazy to have a dog minus a fence?

$3

2009-04-26T15:34:00.001-04:00

There are a lot of things that bother me in retail pharmacy. One of my top pet peeves is people who have no idea what they are taking, let alone what it is for, but they damn sure know that they only paid $3 for it last time.

*Ringing a customer out at the pharmacy*

Old guy: "Let me see that. $42?? I don't want that one! I want the other one!"
Me: "Which one?"
Old Guy: "The $3 one."
Me: (Shuffling over to my computer) "The Cosopt?"
Old Guy: "No, no, no... the OTHER one."
Me: "There is no other one. It's the one you have in your hand or the Cosopt. Which one do you need? What do you need it for?"
Old Guy: "I just want the $3 one."
Me: "Fine, give me a few minutes to return this one and fill the other."
Old Guy: Stands in the window and stares at me the entire time. I am pretty sure that he thinks I am inept at this point.

I finally get the guy all settled and send him on his merry way with his eye drop that may not be what he needs.

An hour later.....
Old guy: "I need the other eye drop."
Me: "You mean the one that I already filled once today?"
Old Guy: "Yeah, that one."
Me: *Sigh*

The reason

2009-04-23T00:13:00.001-04:00

Welcome!

This blog is not meant to be mind-blowing. It is my attempt to share some of the randomness that happens in my day-to-day existence.

I am currently in a state of upheaval and uncertainty, but I do know one thing: It's going to be one heck of a ride.