Currently on Constant Replay

In my car, in my room, on my computer, this song is constantly blaring at top volume. It's essentially my life theme song for a moment.

Love The Way You Lie by Eminem feat Rihanna

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn,
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts.
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry,
But that's alright because I like the way you lie.
I love the way you lie.

I can't tell you what it really is,
I can only tell you what it feels like.
And right now there's a steel knife in my windpipe.
I can't breathe but still I fight while I can fight.

As long as the wrong feels right, it's like I'm in flight
High off of love, drunk from the hate,
It's like I'm huffing paint.
And I love it, the more that I suffer, the more I suffocate.

And right before I'm about to drown
She resuscitates me, she f*(&ing hates me
And I love it.

Wait, where you going
I'm leaving you
No you aint, come back.
We're running right back

Here we go again, it's so insane
Cause when it's going good, it's going great.
I'm superman with the wind in his bag.
She's Lois Lane.

But when it's bad, it's awful.
I feel so ashamed. I snap.
Who's that dude, I don't even know his name.
I laid hands on her, I'll never stoop so low again.
I guess I don't know my own strength.

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn.
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts.
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry.
But that's alright because I like the way you lie.
I love the way you lie.

And the song continues, but I'm sure you get the jest. Love love love this song.

Reaffirmation

Things I have learned this weekend:



1. Friendship is forever. And the best ones are there forever and always no matter what you say or do or how far apart you are.



2. I think I actually COULD handle having a baby... My apartrment however needs some work.



3. There is NO therapy like sunshine therapy.



4. Even after 2 years, watching the Yankees play is like being home.



5. I really like my days off. Like an unhealthy amount. I'm not sure what that means...



6. I miss living within walking distance to Pike Place.



7. I need to use the pool at my apt a lot more.



8. I'm not letting Danielle and family go home.



9. I'm going to miss my Mercy like crazy when she goes to school in New Orleans. I wouldn't let her leave either but a) I'm pretty sure they outlawed keeping Africans hostage in your house a few years ago. And b) I really want to visit New Orleans, and now I'll have my own tour guide :)

Let Freedom Ring

Erma Bombeck once said, "You have to love a nation that celebrates it's Independence every July 4th, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but at picnics where kids throw frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die of happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it's patriotism." I love it, and it's so true. The 4th of July always has been and always will be my favorite holiday. It's when we celebrate what we are. And we don't do this with big shows of strength and military muscle on our own soil. Our service men and women are busy fighting at home and abroad to keep our freedoms and ensure the cause of liberty. They do so not with a big show, pomp and circumstance, but every day. Fourth of July or not. I have two dear friends who have served several tours of duty in Iraq with the Marines, and now a friend near and dear to me is preparing to do so as a Ranger in the Army. I know this side of them. The side of them that loves to boat and play ball and joke with friends. The side that throws one heck of a summer barbecue. The side that loves life and laughter. And I've seen glimpses into the sides of them that have gotten blown up in caravans. Seen glimpses into the side of them that has held brothers as they lay fallen in sacrifice for what we take advantage of every day.

One of my favorite 4th of July moments on film is in the movie The Sandlot. When they're all our playing a game of street ball and they all stop to admire the fireworks in the sky while Ray Charles sings about purple mountain's majesty. It brings me to nostalgic tears. Every time. In the words of Rodney Atkins, "It's a high school prom, it's a Springstein song, it's a ride in a Chevrolet. It's a man on the moon, fireflies in June, and kids sellin' lemonade. It's cities and farms, it's open arms, One Nation Under God, it's America." That's why we celebrate with family picnics where kids trow frisbees and have watermelon seed spitting contests. That's why we celebrate with baseball games and fireworks and family friends and loved ones. Because that's what we fight for. That's who we are. We are beautiful spacious skies, we are amber waves of grain, we are purple mountain majesty. We are America. America is families and friends playing and enjoying the sunshine and warm summer nights. That is the heart and soul of what we are and it's why so many now and before us have shed blood sweat and tears. Thank you for those that have gone before and sacrificed so much, that we can have what we take advantage of today. You are not forgotten. You are loved.

I'll leave you with one of my favorite quotes from John Fitzgerald Kennedy. "Let every nation know, whether it wishes us well or ill, we shall pay any price, bear any burden, meet any hardship, support any friend, oppose any foe, to assure the survival and success of liberty."

Behold the Power of Cheese

...and by cheese, I mean food. Seriously. What is it? Usually when I am in any kind of emotional turmoil (anxiety, nervousness, sad, upset, yada yada) I loose all appetite and don't eat for weeks at a time. But for some apparent reason (I'm gonna blame hormones, because that's what I blame everything unknown on) for the last three months I've been eating everything in sight. I get upset and cry then I make a pie so I can eat it. I ate a whole pie in three days. I went through an entire package of double stuff oreos (that I went on a 0200 emergency grocery store trip to buy) in 3 hours. With peanut butter on top. That's just the kind of last few months I've had. For some reason my body decided to go backwards from normal and I have become an emotional eater. My hips and my now slightly snug clothing realize this is a bad idea, and I realize that it's not the greatest coping mechanism, but it is what it is.

So for the last week I've put myself back on a diet. The thing is, excuse my french, I become a homicidal bitch if I haven't eaten all day. Seriously. I hate people (everyone) and my life and my job and ...well, everything. I realized this at work the other day when I was having a terrible day for no apparent reason. I wanted to stab people in the eyeballs (don't lie, we've all been there) and everything just irritated me! Luckily, my roommate took subconscious pity on my poor coworkers when she surprised me at work with real food. Moral of the story, it's not worth my mental health to starve myself. Running: great. Dieting: not so much. So I'll just have to strive harder to not make the key lime pie and eat the entire thing in three days time. No more midnight runs to get double stuff oreos that I can coat in delicious peanut butter and put myself in a food induced happy state. Just eating like normal and exercising. Sigh. But I might not kill anyone intentionally this way ;)

Filter Free

So, here's the thing about exhaustion. It zaps you of the energy that you have to lie. The energy that you have to fake it, to pretend, and to act. It forces you to be much more honest. When you're physically exhausted you don't have the ability to pretend like you are emotionally detatched. Or that you have any sentimentality at all over other things. Case in point: I have chosen to hang out with my friends and celebrate their achievements over the past couple days over sleeping. As a result I've slept about 5 hours of the last 48. So on the way to work today when I was completely physically exhausted, I found myself getting teary and worked up about a couple different things. Things that on a proper amount of sleep, I have the full capacity to shove down inside and 'deal with them rationally.' I also had lost the ability to appear as though I cared for people. Because the honest truth is, if you're not sick, I really don't give a tiny rats a*s whether you stay to see the doctor or not. In fact I'd rather you didn't. And let's remember, my definition of sick and your definition of sick are different. And emergencies don't wait. I also don't have the ability to act as though your 200lb obnoxious 10 year old is cute. I have no ability to pretend as though I had the patience to deal with your non sick child. I have no ability to act like the two babies that were delivered in the ER last night were sweet and special and happy and cute occurrences. They're not. Nor do I care to pretend that I didn't wish that a few of our staff would be so inspired by how 'cute' it all was that they would realize their true calling is labor and delivery. I did come to an interesting realization however. My hatred for all Boston athletic teams is outdone by my hatred for Kobe Bryant and the Lakers. Therefore I don't feel bad that I am cheering for the Celtics to win. I actually hope they slaughter the Lakers. Huh. Who would have thought :)

My Girls

Last night I was driving to work when Shania Twain's 'Any Man Of Mine' came on the radio. I literally laughed out loud. And of course I totally rocked out to the song. I had flashbacks to oh-so-many nursing school road trips with my best nursing school gals karaoke-ing away to Shania and Christina Aguillara and Billy Currington. Oh, Billy. So this is a quick shout out to my best nsg school friends (and still among my best of friends today). Together we survived the worst hell possible. We made it through all the wondering if we were ever going to actually get our heads above water, all the marathon study sessions in the library, the bachelor parties, the road trips, and a few bathroom incidents... ;) Love you girls! Together we learned how to be the amazing nurses that we are today ...6 years later. (Wow, we're getting old ;) ) (I couldn't find any pictures of us IN nsg school on my computer, so the first one is the year after we graduated... the second one was 5 years later -- last fall at Melissa's wedding)

Lucky Girl

So last night at work I had a room assignment with actual patients, as opposed to being the clinical resource nurse or triage nurse. A welcome change. My room assignment happened to be in the 'psych' patient area. Always an adventure. So over the course of an hour I had a patient who was crazy (not drunk, just crazy) tell me that as soon as he finished prosecuting his father who was the head of the KKK that he was going to save his money and come back to take me to dinner. As lead prosecutor and supreme court justice I figure he'll have his hands full for a while. He also said that he was going to remember my name so he could find my phone number. (moment of gratitude for only having first names on name tags). Then my patient who was crazy and drunk told me that I was a beautiful woman and that she would do what I said because I had a big d*ck. THEN my patient that was drunk (not crazy, just drunk) stopped mid "seizure" and says, "HOLD ON!!!" I stare at him with the same expression I had while waiting out his "seizure" ...blank boredom ...and he looks at me and says, "Do you have babies?" I said no, and he said, "Well why not?! You're too gorgeous to not have babies! I'll help if you want. You need to have girls. Probably two, but at least one. You should name her Sarah." I am a lucky lucky girl :)