Thought Keeping Me Up Tonight

Ok, its not so much keeping me up, that was probably my evening nap. But the memory does flit through my mind from time to time... That's just too long of a title. My third grade teacher, Ms. Crescent, told my parents once at a parent-teacher conference that while I was a delightful student to have in class, sometimes I needed to follow the rules. She showed them a piece of writing I had done and pointed out that while it was actually correct in the way I used it, she had taught us that day that sentences shouldn't start with"and." I did it right though! I'm still bitter about it. I don't know why. I can even tell you where her classroom was, where we were sitting in the classroom when she told us that, and that I was wearing hot pink pants and a hot pink and white striped button-down shirt. I need to learn to let things go.

Ooh, look! Something shiny!!

I have kind of a lot going on right now. Who doesn't, right? But I've got a Senior Portfolio due in two weeks that I haven't started yet. I am throwing a friend/coworker a baby shower in a month. I have three upcoming vacations. I need to schedule maintenance for my car. I need to call my dentist because my tooth feels weird. Justin Bieber's voice has been in my head for approximately 13 hours singing, "And I was like, Baby, baby, baby, Oh!" On repeat. I am trying to arrange for time off for my graduation from school. In six weeks-ish.  Still scheduled to work all weekend. I really need to take care of that. I'm trying to figure out how I'm going to get time off for two weddings coming up this fall. I also really want to go to Chicago sometime this year. Remember how I still haven't been to a game in the new Yankee Stadium?  I need to change my FTE at work. I don't want to work so much!!! I need to somehow make it to a friends bridal shower and another friend's jewelry party while I'm going to be in a different time zone. The feeling of cotton balls bothers me. Like, nails on a chalk board irritates me. I'm going to be on my last pair of scrubs tomorrow and have no willpower to do laundry. Wagner and Turbin are both coming to Seattle?! That's pretty awesome. I wonder if either of them will be in need of some good ol' USU cooking? I need a new phone, but I should wait until I get back from Greece, just in case it ends up in the ocean. Do I want to keep renting my apartment or rent a house? Can I rent a house for cheaper? When can I buy a house? Oh yeah, that's right, when I stop spending money. I wonder when my new iPad is going to get here. I really need to call and schedule the interior/exterior auto detail I bought a while ago. Ugh, and my windows still need to be tinted.  I need to call my dear friend Mercy. And I haven't talked to Serena forever. I have a parking ticket that I need to have the university void. I don't know what to get my sister for graduation. She graduates in four days. Crap, mother's day is coming up and I haven't thought about that yet either. Sorry mom... it'll be great, I promise.

 All of these things are milling about my brain, but ya know what's keeping me awake tonight?  Grad school. Do I go to Johns Hopkins or Georgetown? Do I really want to get my CNS? Do I do it online or do I move? Georgetown has such a great tuition reimbursement program... Georgetown would be a stellar school, their program is wonderful. Johns Hopkins is Johns Hopkins though, so there's that. But also, Georgetown is Georgetown.The idea of moving to DC sounds heavenly; the physicality of it is a bit daunting. If I did go to Johns Hopkins and if I didn't do it online, I'd still move to DC and just commute. Do I move to DC anyway? I could do either program online from DC as well. And then I'd be in DC. Worrying about the what/when/where of grad school is already keeping me up and I won't even be starting it for a year and a half... at the soonest. Which reminds me... What if I don't get in? Sigh. My brain needs to be quiet. Or at least think about things going on in the next six months. Ok, just think about things this week. Or tonight. Just be quiet brain!

Wisdom of Old Age

I'm a worrier. I worry a lot. I worry that I'm not good enough. I worry about how my failings and shortcomings affect other people. I worry that when I tell my dad I'll call him the next day but then I forget until long after he's asleep --I worry that he thinks I forgot him, I worry that he waited and waited and waited and I let him down. I worry that I've deprived my parents of walking me down the aisle and of grandchildren, and that I've let them down, do they really know that's what I yearn for most one day? I worry that I worry too much and can be a drain on my friends and family. I worry that I'll wear them out and will be left ultimately alone.  I feel bad on a personal level when I can't fix things. And so, I worry. And many may say that my worries are unfounded; That my dad clearly had more to do in his day than sit around waiting for me to call; that I'm still young; that it's not practical to fix every problem of everyone else that you come across in life.  It eats away at me for hours when I miss an IV attempt on the most difficult of patients (even if I had just got the IV on the chubby dehydrated six-month old that four other people were unable to get).  I know that some say that it's impossible to be perfect always, but still, I worry. And I cry, and I have a hard time sleeping. So sometimes I make lists. I make lists of all the worries swimming in my mind preventing it from silence and rest. I write them down and it sets them free.  At least for the night. Sometimes I write the same thing consecutively for many days. Sometimes I write nothing, because sometimes I'm at peace with me.  And that's what part of my New Year's Resolution is about. Being a more kind person --especially to myself.  So I try. I try every day to trade in my worries for thoughts of accomplishments and happiness. For thoughts of blessings and good fortune.

Along those lines, I'm quite enjoying my classes this quarter. I'm taking an elective class on the assessment of the older adult. The first week of class we were assigned to read a book written by K. Eileen Allen, a 90 year old woman from Seattle, entitled "I Like Being Old." I was surprised by how much I enjoyed and related to the book.  It wasn't just about how to age gracefully and avoid dependent living, it was about life lessons applicable to all ages.  She states that for her happiness is finding the balance between reaching out to people and spending time with herself. I like that. She says that happiness is getting rid of the "oughts." She no longer fees bound by other people's ideas of how she should live her life or even by what she thought she "had to do" earlier in her life. What a beautiful philosphy is that?! And why do we have to wait until we're 90 to figure that out?  She spends some time talking about being grateful to be aware that she's happy, and that happiness is an "inside job" after all. Love. She says, "A dazzling sunrise offers it's glory for only a few moments, and I miss the joy it brings if I don't acknowledge it right then and there."  She's also realistic. I love that she no longer believes that every cloud has a silver lining --because quite frankly, sometimes, they don't. She speaks on the importance of meditation, something I'd really like to implement into my life, and perhaps this quote spoke the most to me:

                    "It feels good to quiet myself, be in the here and now, and not worry about what 
                     happened yesterday or will happen tomorrow. Old perfectionist me often feels 
                     I'm not doing a good enough job... But when I stop stewing over what's wrong, 
                                         I'm able to see my virtues more than my faults."

She concludes that "Life is a gift and a giver of gifts to be treasured and rejoiced in each day. Life is impartial, neither singling me out for special favors nor to be a victim. Being happy acknowledges the gifts of this world and living happy is up to me."  So tonight as I get ready for bed instead of letting worries cloud my pretty little head, I'll write them down and let them go. I'll look at myself in the mirror as I wash my face and acknowledge that I am beautiful. I'll remember the beautiful picture from the drive home of the orange painted sky bleeding into the orange-hued lake --a crystal clear and still reflection of the surrounding shore and brilliant sky. The glistening snow-capped Olympic Mountains off in the distance.  And I'll pledge to be more grateful, more aware, and more happy tomorrow. Not every cloud has a silver lining, and not every day is happy, but acknowledging the little things and the little moments that we're happy is a beautiful start.

A Day in the Life

A small glimpse into my typical day off ...and a small glimpse (sans vacations) into why I'm still driving the same car I've had since high school and don't have a house yet.  So I woke up today and knew that I had to do one thing. I had to get something cute and western-ish chic for the Kenny Chesney concert I'm going to on Friday with a couple girlfriends. I got ready for the day and realized that I was nearly out of my Hope in a Jar moisturizer... fabulous stuff. So I decided that I'd stop by Sephora quick at the mall, then head to a quaint little western-wear shop in hopes of finding a cute snappy shirt and a looked-worn cowboy hat.

On the way to the mall, I realized that the easiest mall entrance to get to Sephora was through the Borders store. And I had to pick up a book for my Healthcare and Immigration class called 'Like Water for Chocolate.'  Perfect. So I park, go into Borders, pick up my requisite paperback and head toward the checkout. Past the children's books. Well, maybe I'll see if they have anything cute for my nephew since last time I was in.  They didn't. But then I had to walk back toward the cash register past the book-club favorites and staff favorites section. Always dangerous, but I did exercise some self control since I have a pile of 13 (seriously, I just counted them all) books that I've picked up and need to read when I have time to read something in addition to required reading for school.  I love books. I love book stores. I could spend hours and thousands of dollars getting lost among the aisles and piles and stacks of imagination and wonder-land of eras gone by, lands far away, etc.  But I made it through. Right into the medical reference section. And I though, "Well, they're now giving us an additional $1.35/hr raise for each certification we get at work... I have my CEN (certified emergency nurse), I'm working on my CPEN (the pediatric version) ...why not pick up a study guide for the CCRN (critical care nurse)?" So I did. Really, it was just being economical right? Since it's going to help me earn more money and be a better nurse that thing will essentially pay for itself!  Ps, I'm not the person to talk you out of buying anything...

I made it to the check-out line with my measly two items ...a rarity for me, and left the store. Down the escalator past the Auntie Anne's pretzel shop --an act of self control in and of itself --and into Sephora. Land of my needed moisturizer.  I made it all the way to the favorite mascara rack before i stopped --two feet into the store. It was also probably time for some new mascara. So I picked up my favorite DJV lengthening mascara (my fav ...after MUCH personal research). But then I saw that DJV had a new mascara out ...why  not try it?! I mean it's a thickening one, so i can always layer it with the other for going out occasions if I don't fall in love with it on it's own.  So I picked that up too.  I walked past the long display of brushes (another weakness of mine) and made it to the philosophy section where I picked up my moisturizer and my moisturizer only.  Proud of myself for only two unplanned purchases, I made my way past the toenail polish section to the checkout and left the store. Self control points for me for not going in to White House Black Marked (my all time favorite store ...like, ever. Ever. Favorite. Love.) and for not going in to pumpkin patch ...my favorite kiddo couture store to get presents for my nephew.  He still hasn't grown into the last batch of summer clothes i bought anyways, and they don't have their fall stuff in. They would have emailed me. So I made it out of the mall with only one unplanned store and four unplanned purchases ...see how I reward myself :)  Trust me, it could have been worse.

 On the way out of the mall, I drove past a Bed Bath and Beyond store and decided that I needed to go in and pick up a crock pot. I've been craving this Italian chicken that one of my college roommates used to make, and it has to cook in a crock pot.  So really, that purchase was necessary too. Done and done. A little bit further down the road away from the mall is a scrub store where I get my work scrubs. I realized that I lost my trauma shears the other day and should pick up a pair before I go back in this weekend. So I stopped. And picked up my needed trauma shears. And three new pairs of scrubs. Which I needed because some of the 16 pair that I already have are getting worn.  Yes, I already have 16 pair. And I only work four days a week. But like I said, some of them are looking slightly worn... besides, they had new stuff!

On to the western-wear store I go. Where I picked up a darling pink and grey 3/4 sleeve western chic shirt that snaps up the front with a cute lacy cami to go underneath it and a darling cowboy hat. Exactly what I was looking for. Perfect!  And I left that store ...the cami the only semi-unplanned purchase, but not really since it's part of the shirt that I was going to buy.

On the way home from my final store of the day I realized that I left my flip flops that i was planning on wearing to the concert at my friends house on the coast. Better stop by target to get some more that will match my new shirt! And while I'm at it... better get some new denim capris to complete the ensemble! And ooh ... bread sticks ...better get some for dinner!  Shopping trip complete!!!

Moral of the story.  My planned shopping trip for three items totaling $130.00 ended up being a 13-item excursion totalling... $495.00. And I don't feel bad about it at all. That my folks is how it's done :)

Narcissism

Thank goodness for spell checker ...that's a tough word to spell. Anyways, my name is Toni and I am a vapid narcissist. It's true. I come to realize this more and more. The most recent case in point was the holiday weekend. I spent the entire weekend in somewhat of a melancholy state. You see, I love my mother, and I love my family, and I miss them terribly. And on holidays especially such as this one it is quite hard for me to be so far away. This was not the main reason behind my mood however. You see, I realized that the mother's day holiday is a weekend long celebration and reminder of the thing I have failed at most in life. Yes, that's right, it's always about me :) See, you thought I was kidding about the narcissism...

Don't get me wrong, I love mothers, they absolutely get their own special day and deserve so much more. I in fact find it somewhat ...offensive? That people who are not mothers are lumped in this category. Let's celebrate the day for what it is. Motherhood. A day for the most noble most challenging and most rewarding profession there is. A day for the people who are primarily responsible for the raising and nurturing of little ones, no matter what their age is. Mothers that are and mothers that were, and the mothers that have given birth and then given the gift of motherhood to someone else. I'm an aunt and an auntie, I'm a role model (of sorts, or so I'm told), I'm a friend, and I am a pretty big deal in general (thanks Mindy :) ). I'm an important person, and I do many great things and I love many people, but I am not a mother. Not yet.

I yearn for this and look forward to the day when the blessing of wife and mother becomes mine. I struggle at times to remember that I am still young and clearly not ready or it would have happened already. For goodness' sake!! I'm only 28 years old!!! Life is great, and life is an amazing adventure and I revel in the things I learn every day and in the experiences and adventures that are mine and mine alone. As a dear friend reminded me yesterday (after a text inquiring if I was the only one feeling like the weekend was a glaring reminder of my failure in the area) I have not failed. I haven't attempted yet. And I still have so many more great and wonderful experiences to discover. Many more days to prepare me to be the best wife and mother I can be. I have a lot to live up to in the example of my mother and the many great mothers that surround me, and I certainly don't want to rush.

I'm not saying I want this now, the thought of it puts me in a certain state of panic... So why the melancholy? I don't know. Cultural/religious expectations born and bred into me? Maybe just because I'm a girl and let's face it, girls are crazy :) But someday for sure. For there truly is no more noble and blessed calling than that of mother.

Ah, the power of email...

It's always amusing to me to browse through my junk-mail folder of my email every once in a while. It makes me giggle at memories and remember fun times past. You know, when you get emails from companies or places that you've visited, or more accurately from their websites that you've purchased part of your vacation through. I still get emails from the Anaheim Convention Center, Disneyland, hotel chains in Florida and Southern California, basketball arenas and concert venues across the country. Today I opened one that hit a sentimental spot of mine I've been dealing with lately. It was from a horror house. A haunted horror house. It wasn't so much the actual venue of Blood Manor ...although it was amazing and spectacular. It was the memories of the people and the location that hit the tough spot. I learned long ago that I left my heart in Seattle. The problem is, that I've left my soul in Manhattan. And my mind is definitely somewhere else entirely. I have been seriously craving New York City recently. I miss it like you'd miss breathing. I miss it always, I love Manhattan in all it's seasons, each has it's own magic. But there is no place in the world like Manhattan in the fall. There is an absolutely indescribable feeling that descends on the city come Labor Day. I miss it. I miss everything about it.

It's killing me to not be HERE this October

My soul is here.

Can you blame me?

I miss these people.

I miss this place.

The thing is, when I was here amongst all the fall colored crisp breeze scarf and pea-coat wearing glory and glamor, I was homesick. You've heard that home is where your heart is? Well, when I was in the most amazing and wonderful city in the world (it will always be so) I realized that Seattle felt like home. It was where my heart was and where I would return to some day. So when I was in NYC I yearned for this:

And now I'm in 'this' and I am having quite the identity crisis. Because as I said, my heart is in Seattle, My soul is in Manhattan, and my mind is here:

With this little guy. Again, can you blame me?! Sigh. What's a girl to do? How about vacation somewhere new and fabulous?!!! Good idea, no? I'll keep you posted! :)

Why I Don't Grocery Shop

So I was deep cleaning my kitchen the other day and had a total friends moment. Shocking I know ;) But this was literally my fridge. Thus I feel completely justified in my lack of grocery shopping. It's clearly just a waste of money. LOVE this show!!!

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 :)

SaTC Experiment

Great therapy. Sex and the City is great therapy for single gals. It reminds us that being young and single is sexy and wonderful and amazing and adventurous and that heartache happens but the next douche-bag is just right around the corner. I had caught an episode here or there on tv reruns, but a while back I watched one that really grabbed me. It was titled 'A Woman's Right to Shoes.' In this episode one of the girls that the 4 used to hang out with is having a baby shower for her third pregnancy. Long story short, Carrie has her $825 shoes stolen from the party when they had to take them off before coming into the apartment. Her friend tells her that she shouldn't have to pay for them because it's not her fault that Carrie spent so much on something so insignificant, and she shouldn't have to pay for Carrie's self-indulgent lifestyle. As the show goes on, Carrie realizes (and tells her friend) that she's spent thousands of dollars celebrating this friends decisions. Celebrating the decisions with wedding presents and presents for all three of the children. She then realizes that after graduation there is not a single occasion to celebrate the single person. Not one. So she sends her friend an announcement that she is marrying herself and is registered at Manolo Blahnik. She registered for one item, her shoes. Her friend ends up buying them, and at the end of the episode Carrie says that it's hard to walk in a single gal's shoes. That's why we have to wear fabulous ones, to make the journey more exciting.

I decided that I needed more of this in my life. So on a retail therapy trip to Target, I bought all six seasons of Sex and the City on DVD (and a bluray player and hdmi cable ...but that's beside the point...). I started with episode one of season one and found quickly that it was a good idea to keep a pen and paper handy for all the amazing things I was relating to. There's not much else need to explain. Here's my favorites. Those of you who will get it will just get it, and those of you who don't won't and that's fine by me. Quotes are narration or dialog by Carrie unless noted otherwise.

"I didn't understand. Did all men secretly want their women promiscuous and emotionally detached? And if I was really having sex like a man, why didn't I feel like I had more control?"

"I thought I had come to terms with my looks the year I turned 30 and realized I no longer had the energy to be completely superficial."

"The truth is, I was dying to sleep with him, but isn't delayed gratification the meaning of maturity?"

"I will not be the first one to speak. And if he never calls me again, I will always think of him fondly. As an asshole."

"Was secret sex the ultimate form of intimacy since it existed in a pure state, exempt from the judgement of the world? Or is it just another way in which we deny our feelings and emotionally compartmentalize our lives?"

Samantha: "Just be cool. You don't care. Then he'll wonder why you don't which will make him realize he does and then it's a whole new ballgame."
Miranda: "So, in your world it's always 6th grade?"
Charlotte: "I think a relationship has to be built on honesty and communication to succeed."
Samantha: "Ok, if you were 25 that would be adorable, but you're 32 now, so that's just stupid."

"Puberty is a phase, 15 years of rejection is a lifestyle." Stanford Blatch

"Let's be honest. Sometimes there's nothing harder in life than being happy for somebody else. Like lottery winners. Or extremely successful people who are 27. And then there's that hell on earth that only your closest friends can inflict on you. The baby shower."

"It's very strange when the life you never had flashes before your eyes."

"It takes half the time you went out with someone to get over them. You can't push yourself into feeling good. The only way to get over somebody is to feel really bad, cry to your girlfriends, and to replay what you hated about him over and over in your head all day." Charlotte

"I'm not drunk, I'm sedated from my pain."

"We're so over we need a new word for over."

Carries 5 breakup rules:
1. Destroy all pictures where he looks sexy and you look happy.
2. Lie. It's a lot easier than admitting that's why you invited the new Yankee to the party and why you maxed out your credit card to buy the dress.
3. Until emotionally stabilized, enter no stores.
4. Never stop thinking about him. Even for a moment. Because that's the moment he'll appear.
5. No matter who broke your heart or how long it takes to heal, you'll never get through it without your friends.

"If New York's signature food is the apple, the signature sound is the siren. But what about the injuries that don't get a siren. Whether you're falling in a hole in the street or falling back in love ...just how dangerous is a broken heart?"

Amazing, no? Now, I must admit that I did see the SaTC movie before I watched the series. Kind of like watching the movie before reading the book. It leaves you misguided and there's always something critical that is left out. Like all girls in the movie (and I thought who had seen the show as well), I was kind of endeared to Big. Who wouldn't be endeared to someone who bought you a bazillion dollar home on 5th ave --and built you your own palatial closet to boot. He did have his big freak out asshole moment when he panicked and didn't drove past instead of stopping to go to his wedding, but he was coming back for her... But every guy in every movie has a moment like that. Besides, I had heard the buzz about him when the series was on air, I figured that he was a big deal (no pun intended) and that he and Carrie were destined to be together. Like romeo and Juliet. So when the movie ended and all was happy, I was happy. No matter how much it pains me to admit it, I am a hopeless romantic.

What I didn't get from the movie that I realized watching each episode was that Big is a giant asshole. He treated her like crap repeatedly and kept stringing her along and kept coming back and being an asshole all over again. He broke her heart a couple times, and she found someone amazing. Aiden. I love Aiden. I can't wait to find my Aiden. And when I find him I won't let a married-to-someone-else Big ruin it. When my Aiden proposes to me and I say yes, I won't end up having an affair with my ex-Big who is still married to someone else. And should my Aiden find out about the affair and forgive me and still love me anyways, I will keep him forever. I will not be swayed when my ex-asshole Big gets jealous and possessive even though he's married to someone else who he won't leave. I will keep my Aiden over Big because Aiden is what every girl needs, and Big is what is out there. He makes Carrie feel insignificant and inconsequential and never good enough. Unfortunately Aiden's have gone extinct in real life. The one's that are there are blissfully married as they should be. So back to Big. For six years he was a complete douche bag with intermittent periods of actual gentlemanly behavior. All assholes have to have some redeeming moments, it's what hooks you. Holding on to those fleeting moments.

But the show was still amazing therapy. As I said before, I related completely. And it was fun to realize that I was part of all 4 characters, not just Charlotte as I thought after seeing the movie. And it was fun to realize that each of your friends is more like one of the ladies than the other three. And that somehow when you put all your friends together you end up with an even balance of all 4 characters.

The show reminded me how much I am in love with New York City. Still. That place gets inside you and becomes part of who and what you are.

And as amazing as it was, I was quite disappointed in the ending. And yet I wasn't at the same time. The hopeless romantic in me (the part created by Disney and fairytales and believing that true love conquers all when I was a little girl) was glad that she ended up with Big. The ending was dramatic and romantic and seemed fitting. And I obviously saw it coming since I had seen the movie.

But like everything else that's not reality, it ended in happily ever after. My single girl power gritty real life success therapy ended with the cold hard fact that apparently if you put up with the asshole for 6 years he will turn into a prince who's everything you ever imagined. It's a modern day fairytale come true. It's the same shit we were force fed when we were little (ok, not just when we were little, I still love Disney movies ...I watched sleeping beauty just the other day). Like in beauty and the beast ...if you stick around long enough and put up with someone holding you captive and dictating what you wear and eat and your daily activities, he will turn into a prince. The difference is this one was marketed for adults. Jaded adults even.

Which reminds me. McDreamy. The wonderful beautiful perfect McDreamy. The man that my friends and I have often pondered doesn't exist in reality. I had a moment as I was watching the beginning of season two on DVD the other day. Let's re-examine this. McDreamy does exist. He's beautiful, he has amazing hair and that McDreamy look (think elevator) that makes your knees crumble and your insides turn to mush. That makes everything he suggests sound amazing and incredible. But he also started an affair with you --painting pictures of lasting futures and homes and families-- neglecting to tell you that he is already married. Then he doesn't apologize for not telling you. Then he doesn't sign the divorce papers because he can't give up his life (wife) in "one day." Then after he rejects you he continues to give you the McDreamy look at work, and be there for you in obnoxious ways and continually break your heart and drive you crazy. He hugs you when you're hysterical over yous sick mother. He holds you silently in the closet when you need a moment not alone. You date someone else and he flies of the handle with jealousy ...while still married to his wife. But if you can endure enough of his wanting his cake and eating it too, eventually his wife will move to LA and he will be McDreamily yours forever.

What I'm getting out of all this is that Prince Charming does still exist. McDreamy does in fact exist. You just have to put up with all the crap first. So if I endure all the pain and misery and tears and heartache and wistful longing and being treated like a discard-able possession long enough, the asshole will turn into a prince. Perfect.

This post kind of turned into a pot of Gumbo. I'm not technically sure what Gumbo is, but in my brain it's like a big potluck soup. A little of everything all mixed together. I have a roommate who is moving to Louisiana to go to Tulane for grad school, so I'm sure soon enough I'll find out what actual Gumbo is. Then again, this is my temporary roommate who told me the other day, "I keep thinking that you should be from Boston. I mean, I have to remind myself that it's NY where you lived, because it just seems like you should be from Boston. I don't know what it is." So we'll see what comes of that :) But that's what came of my SaTC experiment. And now I have a lot of books I need to re-read. He's Just Not That Into You (inspired by a SaTC writer btw), If The Buddha Dated, Act like a Woman, Think like a Man ...the list goes on. Books based in reality. Pay no attention to the movie he's just not that into you. It ends with a Hollywood ending that completely undoes any good done by the book. Now, off to bed and then to read some books... And the second SaTC movie comes out tomorrow... :)

I have a problem.

Today I spent just over $275 ordering around 3,000 pictures that cover a span of 13 weeks of my life. I have a problem. A picture taking problem. And when the prints arrive at my house I will be spending countless more dollars on the scrapbooks and supplies to turn those photos into priceless memory filled books. It will all be worth it, and I will do this many times over, but I still found it funny that I spent that much printing photos to cover a mere 13 weeks of my life.

See, I'm a little behind on my scrapbooking. The last time I printed photos they were of my first time living in New York. I told myself that I couldn't print anymore until I had those ones all scrapbooked. So I haven't. And the first time I lived in New York was the summer/fall of 2007. Just recently I made a power push to get caught up and scrapbooked the entire time in 3 weeks. So now I'm on to my California adventures. Which I am SO excited to get to!!!! After that is my road trip up the PCH. I decided to make a photobook of this road trip rather than printing more photos. I figured the road trip was like a story, so a book was appropriate. Besides I would get entirely too bored of scrapbooking nothing but scenery pictures. So in addition to ordering all my Cali pics, I also put together and ordered a custom made 78 page book covering the 4 day trip. I am so excited to get it and see it and look at it that I may not be able to sleep tonight! Thank you shutterfly for indulging my picture taking problem :)

Here's a link to see the online version of the book: click here :)

Yep, still hurts.

I'm broken. Forever. There is probably no fixing me. Last ditch effort? Therapy. Giving it serious consideration. We have a pretty good deal through my insurance.

I had my palm read by a crazy patient's crazy husband a while ago at work. Yeah. It happens. We see it all in the ER. So he told me, amongst many other incredibly accurate things that I think like a man. At the time I thought this was his one mistake. The one part about me that he missed. Anyone that knows me knows what a complete emotional wreck I am. I am 100% girl and hormones and emotional drama. As much as it pains me to say it, it's true. I have several versions of myself that I project depending on the situation. The work me is absolutely not that way. The work me is an assertive, charming, intelligent, confident, witty, hard nosed bitch. The me that the majority of my family and friends/acquaintances know is a watered down version of the same. But the few people who know me best, the ones I repeatedly call/email in shambles and tears at varying times of the day/night know the true extent of my emotional nature.

So I scoffed when he told me this. But really, after processing it, he's 100% right. That is the source of most of my emotional drama. I absolutely do think like a man. My brain is 100% fact-driven logical and methodical. I am a problem solver. I want it given to me straight. Get right to the point, I don't need all the nonsense fluff. The problem is that my heart is 100% female and my heart wins every battle between it and my brain. So the logical part of me knows all the answers and solutions but my heart doesn't care and thus we have CONFLICT!! Conflict = emotional mess and drama. I may think like a man but unfortunately I'm ruled by my heart not my brain. Hmm. Remember my hippo dream? Heart vs brain ...mom vs hippo. What is someone trying to tell me? How do I make that happen? Hmm. Therapy. Thinkin' about it.

Interesting...

So I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamed that me, my brother, my mom, and an aunt and uncle had stopped at a riverbank for some reason after eating lunch. Cody and my aunt and uncle stayed in their separate cars, but my mom got out and I followed a little bit behind her. She walked toward the small calm/quiet stream and all of a sudden 2 king cobras came towering out of the water smiling and dancing in unison --disney style. Then to the left of them a hippopotamus stuck it's giant head out of the water. I watched in horror as my mom walked up to the hippo and rubbed it's nose. I screamed after her to stop, and screamed at my brother to help me, but he didn't hear me. The hippo flipped my mom in the air then back and forth into the ground. With one more giant flip, the hippo caught my mom in it's mouth and ate her while I looked on screaming. The next thing I knew I was laying in bed and my Great-Aunt Betty (who is quite alive and well in reality) was an angel and brought me two white tickets in a white envelope and said "gone," and then left. This was how I knew that my mom did not survive. I woke up hyperventilating and screaming "NO!!!!" I was almost scared to move.

My first thought was honestly what my neighbors must think. The things they must hear randomly, the people coming and going, the weird hours I keep, and now me screaming no repeatedly in the middle of the evening. Ah well. At least I'm entertaining :) My next thought was that it may be time to try a night without benadryl. I mean, I've had some crazy dreams (most of which I have kept in my nighttime notebook) but this one was particularly strange. So, as I often do, I looked it up in a dream dictionary when I got home from work this morning. Doing this is always entertaining --especially when it's something from my nighttime notebook and I can relate it to my thought before falling asleep. This one is quite pertinent to my life now as well. Interesting. I'm not going to go into great detail, but the key players are defined below. Try to get past the 'my mom died' in my dream --which is really just morbid. Make of it what you will. I love dream dictionaries!!!!

River: indicates that you are allowing your life to float away or that you are just going with the flow. It's time to take a more decisive role in directing your life. A river can also symbolize joyful pleasures, peace and prosperity.

Snake: represent healing, transformation, knowledge, and wisdom. It is indicative of self-renewal and positive changes.

Mom: represents the nurturing aspect of your own character.

Hippo: symbolizes your aggressive nature and hidden strengths.

White: purity, perfection, peace, awareness, and new beginnings

Ticket: signifies the start of a new endeavor

Today's tips...

Things that have brought me out of my latest funk:

Getting involved with something bigger than myself. This latest project was my last blog entry. Still looking for donations. Every single dollar helps you guys. I mean, seriously, who doesn't have 5 bucks to donate to cancer research. I'm a fan of the prostate and testicles :) Let's save em! In all seriousness though, please check it out and help in any way you can!! Here's the link: Toni's Mo Page. It only goes through November ...don't wait till it's too late!

Of course, chatting with great friends --as always :)

Best way to get over the post vacation blues ...plan your next vacation. December. Key West, Florida. Watch out. This serves as a double bonus since it will allow me to keep up my Hawaii tan lines :)

http://www.mylifeisaverage.com/ --hilarious!!!

From this website I also discovered mystery google!!! Hours of mindless entertainment :)

I also started a nighttime notebook. It's always been hard to turn my brain off at nights, and usually I just try and wear myself out so much physically that I can't not fall asleep. The less I sleep the more dramatic I become and the more emotional and teary, and the less I can sleep. It's a vicious cycle. Well, wearing myself out hasn't been working so well lately, so in the interest of saving at least SOME benadryl and nyquil for when I may actually get sick, I started the notebook. It's a little notebook I keep by my journal by my bed. In it I write everything I can't stop thinking about. Straight up honest feelings, things I would like to say to people, things I will do the next day, wishes and hopes ...whatever thoughts that won't let my brain be quiet. It has worked wonders!!!! It seriously is amazing how much simply writing them down does. I have yet to have the thought I've written creep back in to my brain when I'm drifting off to sleep. It's like the song "as long as I get it all down on paper it's no longer inside of me threatening the life I belong to" just Breathe ---love that song. Anyways, I highly recommend the nighttime notebook! I also started writing about the dreams I remember when i wake up. It's interesting to see the correlation between the previous nights thoughts and the nights dreams.

These things and watching less TLC and more Discovery Channel and more shows where things get blown up. More explosives, less wedding dresses and babies ...always makes me feel better :)

Just thought I'd share!

I'm at it again...

My name is Toni, and I am full of emotional drama. I hate loathe and despise drama, and I can't seem to free myself from it. I'm having to have many of the same conversations with myself over and over and over again, which is just frustrating. I'm having to remind myself that feelings are feelings. It is not ridiculous to have them. If you have them you have them. Whether their good, bad, funny, angry, or whatever. It does no good to get mad at yourself over your feelings. Recognize that you have them, meet them head on, embrace them, and let them go. Fighting the way you feel gets you no where. It doesn't mean that you need to give in and be ruled by your feelings, but recognize that you have them, and deal with them so you can do what you want. You can be angry over happy feelings that you have, you can be secretly happy that you have angry feelings, you can be disappointed in the gamut of emotions that you can't escape, but it's still what it is. Enough emotional word vomit for one day :)

Public Service Announcement

It's that magical time of year again. Flu-shot season. As a preemptive strike, I figured I'd get all my pet peeves out there to begin with. First of all, I apologize to whoever it was I was making fun of the other day for complaining that their arm ached after their flu shot. I got mine yesterday and my arm does indeed ache a bit today. So, whoever you were --I honestly don't remember --I'm sorry. Now on to the matter at hand.

You absolutely positively in no way can NOT NOT NOT get the flu from the flu shot. I assure you that it is physiologically impossible. We ask every patient who comes in the ER doors if they were vaccinated for the current or most recent flu season (thanks joint commission). I swear 90% of the people tell me that they get the flu from the flu shot. For the most part, I just bite my lip. Picking my battles if you will. As I said it is physiologically impossible. It canNOT happen. There is NO exception. I think part of the confusion comes from my second pet peeve on this topic.

The flu shot is not to prevent the stomach flu. It is to prevent influenza, the respiratory virus. Some people to get the unfortunate side effects of nausea with a possible bout of vomiting with the flu shot. This is not influenza. And quite honestly, throwing up and being nauseated for a day is much better than a week long bout of influenza where you cough up a lung, can't breath out your nose, drain rain gutters out of your sinuses, run fevers of over 101, and every muscle in your body --including ones you didn't know you had --aches.

I understand that not everyone will get flu shots, and that's ok. But at least know why you're not getting one. If you don't want it, don't think you'll get the flu (the influenza NOT stomach variety --again, just to be clear) or just don't believe in vaccinations, that's ok. But at least be educated about what the purpose actually is.

One more thing, because I foresee it being an issue. You can still get influenza if you just get the H1N1 vaccine. And you can still get H1N1 flu if you just get the normal flu shot, although your chances are less. And for the love of all that is good and holy, do NOT wear masks!!! And wash your freaking hands! Wash your hands, sneeze into your elbow, not your hand, don't rub your eyes or your nose. Simple hygiene is the best way to prevent yourself from getting sick. From the flu and other colds coughs etc. One final tip --NyQuil. Best drug ever.

Decisions, Decisions

Do you ever feel like you're damned if you do and damned if you don't? You ponder and agonize and over analyze decisions. You think you make the right ones, and you go with what you decide is right even though it hurts like no pain you've ever felt before. It's got to get better, right? After all, you're sure this is where your life is supposed to go. So you push ahead and make the most of each day. No day but today, no time for regret. Then you realize that in spite of all that you've grown and all the great experiences you've had, that you're actually not happy. Too late to go back, you can't rewind time and change your mind. So you do what you can, you do it for you, and you're making your own way -screw the world or what anyone else thinks. And it feels good, and it's refreshing. There are still rough times, and there are still great times, but you're living for you -not for anyone else or their expectations, and that is a beautiful feeling.

Then life throws you a curveball completely out of the blue. Your head spins, your stomach fills with butterflies, and you like it. You've tied yourself down to your current path, for at least a little bit. And now you're not sure that you want that anymore. Maybe you want to be somewhere else entirely. Where you are now is ok, but you've been there for a while, and maybe you're just feeling a little clausterphobic and trapped, but maybe you really do actually want to be somewhere else. Just when you think you're settled and in the groove, you start to question decisions again. The "what ifs" drive you insane. Is this a repeat of the last decision that felt right at the time? What if you really haven't learned all that you thought you had, and you're wrong again. What's done is done. For now anyways. Only time will tell how life plays itself out. So you press forward and continue to make the most out of every moment. Make your own destiny. Forget the hauntings of perceived failures and make the most of today. Sometimes it hurts, and life is not a fairytale. Sometimes people have everything you ever wanted and they don't appreciate it. Sometimes you don't understand how people can be so terrible and careless with the treasures they are blessed with. But overall, life is better than the fairytale. It is what you make it. And no matter where you are, there are people who are worse off. There is always someone you can help, and helping others puts your focus where it should be. Keep your head in the game. This poem was written by one of my good friends, and I think it's amazing.

The playbook was written eons ago,
actions determined before my birth,
evolving over time with situations
into this new age capsule that holds
no promises of a joint tomorrow,
nor any hope for fairy dust and tales
to re-emerge as your new reality.
Instead, this new capsule is padded
with cynicism and wires of openness,
and one should swallow this capsule
with caution and buckets of pragmatism
or it will oil up your throat, choke you
and make you wish your heart had died.
Keeping your head in the game
means keeping your sanity unlocked,
this playbook does not forgive easily,
nor does it forget any lapse in judgement,
as it has no space or literature
to allow for tenderness and gentleness.
Wonderland is no longer an option, Alice,
so pack up your teacups and make haste,
readjust your head to fit the game,
reconfigure your notions of that
rainbow of joint tomorrows dusted by
those old, odd, comforting fairy tales...
this is the stuff with which dreams are killed
this playbook of life, bereft of time and nostalgia,
takes absolutely no prisoners.
--Mercy Mkhana Simiyu

New Beginnings

So I got a new phone today. Which is great. I love it. It has a fabulous camera and all sorts of stuff that I will likely never use but felt a need to have anyways. When you get a new phone the nice guys at the phone store transfer over all of your contacts and pictures and stuff. Stuff except text messages. I am very grateful that I don't have to spend hours manually transferring contacts over, and am very glad to not loose any of the pictures that I didn't have saved to my memory card. The thing that I'm having a hard time with is the inability to transfer text messages.

Years ago on the tv show Sabrina the Teenage Witch, there was part of an episode where there was this magic closet that you opened the door and on the inside was a room full of people shouting compliments at you and telling you how wonderful you were. So anytime Sabrina was having a hard day she could just open the door instantly she was met with the shouts of strangers that made her feel better. Similarly, in my high school psychology class we made little cards where we wrote genuine original compliments about three people of your choosing in the class. We wrote these compliments on the persons given 3x5 card and our teacher laminated them for us. It was really nice to have around.

On my old phone I had several text messages from various people that had things that could always make me feel better or feel less alone, or more encouraged, or whatever I needed to get through the day. I had them all saved, and I looked through them often, kind of like my own closet of complimenting people. Now I'm without those. I'm also without the "I love you" and "You're beautiful and wonderful and I can't imagine my life without you" texts of an old relationship. This is a weird sort of almost closure. The relationship ended amicably, for the most part. We're in the process of being best friends, but it's weird because we leaped right over the just friends part in the beginning of the relationship. And WOW is being just friends hard!!! I don't know that you're supposed to be able to be best friends after you break up with your first love, but I am absolutely determined that I'm going to, and we are friends ...he is still the best friend I have out here, and knows me better than anyone else, ...and this is not the point of this post... The point is, over the millions of text messages sent and received over the course of the relationship there were a precious few that I still had saved. Even now 18 months after it started and 5 months since it ended.

It's one more stage of love recovery. I've lost track of how many stages there have been, which is kind of a shame, because the book could have been a best seller, but you know what I mean. Break up ...mutually ...and cry. Feel better, then cry some more. Then feel better. Then go out with someone new, then cry because you're moving on, and no one can compare quite yet. Then feel better. Then cry when he dates someone new because he's moving on, and you're not quite sure how she compares to you in his mind, then feel better when you realize it's kind of ok because you moved on too. It's like going up baby stairs. Every one is physically painful and emotionally draining, and it seems like they're never ending, but each one gets you to higher ground. It's been a LOOONG process for me. Even when I met someone new who is wonderful and fabulous and I'm pretty sure I'm falling pretty hard for. He went back home 3000 miles away. So I'm also mourning the loss of butterfly inducing texts I saved from starting a new relationship, and the yearning I miss you's of that whole new relationship. They're not on my new phone. It's like a whole new blank canvas. Exciting and scary and sad. I think I'll be hanging on to my old phone for a while. At least until I can write my favorite text messages from family friends and loves on something more tangible and permanent. And acid free.

I love my new phone and can't wait to save all kinds of new and exciting messages that make me smile laugh and cry, but I will miss my old texts a LOT!!! I suppose this is one of my crazy girly sentimental issues that I usually try to keep hidden. Oops :) it's out! Lol!

Food for thought....

Couple thoughts running through my increasingly jaded and cynical mind:

I LOVE the 4th of July. It's my all time favorite holiday ...and I actually have it off this year yay!!! So here's the thing. Why do office people need to take Friday off? Oh no, a holiday falls on a weekend when we already have the day off, we better give ourselves an extra weekday off to make up for it. We can't have a holiday pass without giving you desk people bank people and post office people an extra un-needed non-holiday day off. This would be tragic. Yes, I work nights weekends and holidays like it was any other time, any other day. I chose it, and I wouldn't trade it, but I don't understand why you all get a day off when it's not a holiday, just because you already have the actual holiday off. It makes no sense.

Also, I hate the post office. Remember the episode of Friends when Monica and Joey are discussing that Joey's mom wasn't actually invited to Mon and Chandler's wedding, but Joey told her she was, and she was all offended that she hadn't received an official invitation yet? Joey told Monica to just blame it on the post office because his parents hated the post office. I have become Joey's parents. I hate the post office. I hate going there, I hate parking there, I hate waiting in line there, I don't like it any more when there isn't a line, I hate talking to the people there, I hate mailing things, I hate buying stamps, I think its rediculous that the price of stamps keeps going up. I don't understand why I can't just send letters via ups or fedex. I have no real reason for my disdain, and I don't feel I need an actual reason. I just don't like it. And I haven't for a while. It just keeps getting worse. I think the post office knows I don't like them and as retribution doesn't deliver all my mail. This has been a problem since I moved here. The chances are about 50/50 on whether the items you send actually get here if you send them via the post office. Letters or packages --large and small. Most recently I had to wait 6 weeks to get a package that was sent and that I should have received in three days. Max. My friend who sent the package asked if I still had what she sent, and if I did -could I please take pics of it for her. This is how I figured out I didn't have it. She contacted the post office she sent it from, and they told her they couldn't do anything for 30 days. I contacted the post office here and they said there was nothing they could do. Two weeks later, what mysteriously appears in my mailbox? The missing package. I hate the post office. So, should anyone feel a need to send me packages and presents for my birthday (you still have 9 days) I recommend you send them ups or fedex.

Those are my two annoyances for the day :) On the upside I spent a lovely full day at the lake today and it was fabulous. 85 and sunny all week! :)

A different take...

So here I am. I'm sitting home wasting time online, captivated by the TV show Gangland on the History Channel. Have you ever watched it? Fascinating! Anyway, I'm trying to keep my mind off my blind date tomorrow. I need to try harder because my attempts thus far are failing miserably.

I've actually never been set up on a blind date before in my entire 26 years of existence. I have never complained about that fact, I have really been ambivalent about the whole situation. On the one hand, everyone has an awful blind date story, and I didn't feel a need to have one of my own. On the completely opposite end of the possibility spectrum, several of my friends have met their spouses when they were set up on blind dates.

I am still ambivalent about the fact that it's a blind date. And really, I don't think of it as a blind date since we've talked via facebook and myspace for the last month. One of the nurses I work with is setting me up with her married daughter's ex-boyfriend who's coming in to town this weekend from Boston. This will surprise many of you. First of all, I'm going out with someone older than me. Second of all, he's white. Third of all, he's from Boston. Some of you are now wondering why this is weird. Well, I tend to gravitate to younger men, I am very much a tall dark and handsome (dark as in ...well dark) person, and --well if I need to explain the Boston thing, you don't know me well enough to be reading my blog :) If this applies to any of you out there, I'm glad you're reading, but I'm not going to waste my time explaining. You'll have to figure it out for yourself.

So, here's the thing. I'm nervous. Not that it will be awkward, or that it will be weird, or that it won't work out. Rather, I'm nervous that it will work out. This is the over-analytical girl part of me that will analyze every possible situation before it could ever presents itself. So here's my preemptive disclaimer: I realize that this is a first date with someone who lives on the other end of the country that in all likelihood, I will never see again. I know.

But I'm moving on. And I'm nervous to move on. For the first time since my last relationship, I'm actually excited to be meeting and going out with someone new. And I'm nervous that I'm excited. In a weird twisted way, I don't want it to work out. I won't be able to handle going through that again if it works for a while and then ends. Thinking about delving into another relationship and the possibilities that that entails is exhausting, and I just don't think I'm there yet. So I'll go tomorrow and try my hardest to act like a normal person, and I'm sure once I'm there it will be fine.

I'm not sure what the point of this post is, but I needed to vent for a minute. My best friend here is my last relationship. While we're still best friends, I don't think he's my best option to talk it out with. My best girl-friend here is at work and not the biggest fan of my the just-mentioned friend, so I can give myself the speech she would give me, but I still can't talk to her about it until she's off in the morning. And Daniellita's phone is off ...I'm hoping for her sake that she's not having her baby :) So I vented to all of you online. Posting about my first blind date experience to come later ...for better or for worse :)