Playing House

Fair warning: I had this entire post done last night on a computer that isn't mine (mine died, very sad) and then somehow instead of publishing it it just reverted to only the pictures. I didn't have the energy to do it again, so I'm attempting now :)

Amidst the chaos that has been my life the past month with vacations and vacation planning and graduation (something I still need to talk about ...maybe when I have my own computer back) I've spent a couple weeks house-sitting for friends. A couple weeks ago I spent a week at a dear friend, Janice's house. Janice has three dogs. And three horses. I grew up with neither dogs nor horses. But she left me excellent instructions and I'm a quick learner so I figured I'd be fine. Did you ever see The Simple Life with Nichole Richie and Paris Hilton?   ...Well... The first night I brought my friend Siobhan with me for moral support. We were on our way to a farewell party for a friend at work (Read: we were in skirts and sandals)  but came to feed the animals before we went.  So we pull up in front of the house and Duke, the outside dog, began barking furiously. When we left the car and crossed the gate into the yard it became a ferocious bark and growl at the intruders on his space. I jumped back ready to run away crying, but Siobhan (who has a dog) saved me from the ferocious beast and we soon became good friends after a little food (not me thank goodness ;) ) and scratching of the ears --his, not mine. We met the other two dogs, fed them, and let them out to play while we ventured out to feed the horses. On our second guess we found the hay shed. It turns out there's a lot of sheds/lean-tos on a farm. Janice had explained to me what a flake is (a chunk of hay that a horse eats) and told me that she'd leave the scissors in a bale so I'd know about how big it was. Perfect. I had been assured that the hay would just fall right apart into the flakes, so it shouldn't be a big deal. I pulled on one end of a bale and nothing happened. Hmmm. So I pulled harder. Still nothing. I glanced at my surroundings and saw a pitchfork. I could use this! I stabbed the pitchfork over my head into the chest-high bale of hay, nearly whacking my friend with the stick end in the process. Sorry. The only thing the pitchfork helped us accomplish was tipping the entire bale up and almost on top of ourselves. At this point it occurs to me that perhaps the bale of hay is tied together with something. and that maybe the scissors served dual purpose. Aha. Those of you with horse/farm experience are getting quite a chuckle right now. So let's review. Lessons I leaned on my first day on the farm: Flip flops --not great farm-wear apparel. Dogs bark. Loud. And finally, bales of hay come wrapped in strings of twine, and will come apart much easier after you cut the twine.  Fortunately, I survived the rest of the week without incident and adjusted quite well to life on the farm. I quite loved it! Apart from the allergic rash on my arms and constantly runny nose from the hay. But the animals I loved. And I even got used to making every step with three dogs underfoot, because they followed me everywhere I went. Inside and out.  Here's two of my cuddle buddies from Janice's house, Lucy and Koda:

and here's Noble with a carrot fresh from Laury's garden ...this helped me get in her good graces :)

This week I'm house-sitting for another coworker who's on a sailing/camping/wedding extravaganza.  Only one pupae to take care of this time. Not really a puppy, but a beautiful 13 year-old golden retriever named Saba. I'm in love already.  She's just so sweet!! Never makes a sound, loves to play, and just needs to be in the same room where you are so she can make sure you're in good company.  I'm quite smitten.

Her favorite spot to walk in is right between your legs. She just wiggles herself right in there and could stay there for blocks if you let her. I myself don't have the coordination to do this for a long time without tripping and falling, but it does make me giggle :)

She's 13 and has arthritis and I still get worn out of playing fetch before she does!

She does poop our eventually though... at least kind of :)

I prefer to unwind in the very giant bathtub.... The view from this place doesn't suck either. Yes, I have it quite rough this week :)  In fact, if I wasn't going to Greece in a couple days it may be slightly awkward when Scott and Shelby come home to find that I'm not leaving and have commandeered their dog :)

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!!!

What's in your purse?

So I saw this on My friend Jill's blog. Apparently someone named Stacy Julian challenged people to dump the contents of their purses and take pictures and blog about it. I thought it was cute, but I didn't (don't) know who Stacy is, and quite frankly, I just couldn't see myself doing it. Then today I went to Target. It was payday and I had been needing a long list of routine items for a while. It was rainy today ...weird in Seattle, I know. But I jetted down the street to Target and got a front row parking spot ...in the rain. Score! I ran in and got my cart full of items. I walked straight up to the check out counter. The only one without a line. Score! Again... Anyways... Unloaded my cart onto the counter, and reached in my purse to get my debit card.

This is the point that I remember that my wallet is sitting on the floor next to my bed where I had been paying some bills when I got home from work. My wallet containing my debit card, my checkbook, cash, change, and all my credit cards. Pretty much all my forms of currency. So I look at the lady with my mouth gaping open in shock and embarrassment and say "Oh, shi-oot." She paused before scanning my first item, and asked what was wrong. I told her what I did, and to my surprise she said that there was a place to keep all the items in my cart until I could come back. They have a place for that. People do this that often? I'm one of those people? Ugh. So she helped me put everything back in my cart and showed me where the 'carts-in-waiting' spot was. I drove the 5 minutes home, grabbed my wallet, placed it rightfully in my purse and went back. I collected my filled cart from the cart babysitting section. The worker in charge of the area said that she remembered which one was mine because of my cute purse that was on my shoulder. Great. My purse is cute. Super cute actually. If only I had remembered to put my wallet in it. So without further delay ...here's what was in my purse today:

The only other thing that was in my purse was my camera. Not pictured for obvious reasons. We've got my super cute bag ...my Easter present from my cute mommy, my sunglasses, my iPod (mostly used to avoid talking to people on airplanes), a bottle of eye re-wetting drops (again, used mostly to re-wet my contacts after long naps on airplanes), a pen from the hotel I stayed at last time I was in Vegas, a bottle of baby lotion I stole from work because my hands get so incredibly dry washing them 3,546 times a day, my Burt's Bees chapstick (the only kind I'll use), and varying flavors scents colors and sheens of lip gloss (because yes, Jill, girls lips do look better in pictures when they're shiny, and also, quite frankly, kissing is more fun with it ...and it makes you more memorable --the whole using all the senses thing...)

And this is everything (except camera again) that should have been in my purse today. My cute wallet included. My cute wallet carrying my debit card, Yankee mastercard, discovercard, VS Angel card, safeway card, duane reade card, my Black Book card, you're getting the point. A wide variety of cards and business cards and a bit 'o cash and change, and two tickets to the Allstar Minor League football game in Vegas that some running back gave me when I was in Vegas ...didn't end up going -clearly, since the tickets are still in my wallet. I also have a couple old Yankee tickets in my wallet, just for sentimentality :) And oh, my goodness, my cell phone!! My cell phone is at my side 24-7, so if I'm out and about I'd have that with me as well. That I would never leave by my bed.

Today of all days...

New favorite moment. So there I was. At the grocery store in my "I-just-worked-12-hours-and-then-ran-3 miles-and-am-just-running-in-and-out-of-this-store" running pants, tank top, jacket, messy ponytail hair, and greasy face. I pull into the parking lot and pull up to park behind a car where a man was getting out. I parked, and as I was getting out of my I realized the man from the car in front of me had stopped walking into the store. He looked back, did a double take, then looked at me again. He appeared confused. I was thinking that he was irritated at me for something ...parking too close to his car perhaps? (I didn't, but you never know with drivers around here) So I smiled at him and shrugged it off. I ran into the store to get rolls for a potluck tonight at work, visions of my bed looming in my head. I got the rolls and had a sudden craving for apple juice.

So I jet over to the apple juice aisle. But on my way, I get distracted by the fruit snacks. I got monster trucks, my little pony, and build your own dinosaur (I already had the build your own bug ones at home :) ). As I'm rounding the corner toward the juice, I nearly run into parking lot man. I smile an apology, and move past him. I miss my bed. As I'm passing him, I hear him mumble, "Do you..." and I start to think he's gonna yell at me. So I walk faster bee-lining it for the apple juice. I have had an awful past few weeks, have not slept well, and have dealt with hoards of stupid people at work for 76 hours this week alone. So I'm thinking if I want to keep my nursing license (you can't have one with assault and battery charges) it's in my best interest to avoid the confrontation.

Well, he starts following me. Quickly. Not in his best interest, I mean he may be a 6'4 (ish) large black man, but in my current state of mind, I'm pretty sure I could take him. After all, as I said previously, there's no one crazier than an angry nurse :) So I turn around, and he says, "Excuse me, but you are just absolutely adorable! ...I just had to tell you that." I wish I would have had a camera for the look on my face, because I'm sure it was priceless! I quickly recovered, all my aggression dissipated. I smiled sincerely and said, "Thank you! Thank you very much!" He smiled, said "You're welcome." And we both went on with our shopping. He had no idea how much I needed to hear that! And let's take into account here my afore mentioned attire, with my arms full of fruit snacks and rolls (a typical grocery shopping trip for me ...well, except the rolls ...they go bad too quickly. Substitute crackers and/or popsicles for the rolls, and that's my once every other month shopping trip :) )

Anyway, made my day! Wanted to share :)

So there I was.

I had three days off in a row this past week and I have been itching to see my friends Danielle's new baby. And I have been dying to see my bff from high school, Kristy, and her cute family. And I have been in a strange funk lately. I figured it would be great to get out in the car with just me the road and my ipod and just think a few things out --road trip therapy. To let myself think about the boys and the friends and the job and the location, and just spend some quality me time. So I decided to take a spur of the moment random road trip. Kristy and Danielle knew that I was coming, but my family did not, I thought it would be fun to surprise them by just showing up. So I leave at 0330 on Thursday morning --12 hours without sleep, planning on getting to Kristy's house at about 1300. About 100 miles into the drive, there is this most random scenic outlook post. Every time I pass it I wonder what on earth there is to scenically view, there is nothing for miles around and it's pretty flat, so I figured you could get the same effect from looking out your windows as you drive. Well, this time, since I was being random and spontaneous anyways, I decided to follow the exit and see what was up there. It actually was really pretty, especially since the sun was just coming up.

BUT, as I was slowing down and turning off on the exit to go to this new scenic outlook spot, my car made a noise reminiscent of chewbbacca in the star wars movies. It was an awful grinding sound, but it was only there when I turned my wheel slightly to the left. Since it went away when I straightened out the wheel and was not there when I turned right, I figured it would be fine until I finished the remaining 600 miles. I mean, how often to you veer left while on the freeway, and besides, but check engine light wasn't on, my gas mileage was the same, and my breaks appeared in perfect working order. So I turned up the volume on the stereo and continued singing at the top of my lungs to the music. BonJovi, Kenny, and lots of good random mixes. The sound continues when I try to turn the wheel left, but everything else is wonderful. I felt instantly rejuvenated by all the clean country air and wide open spaces. And there were SO many baby cows along the way! I said hi to all of them. I am by no means a country farm girl and have never even been to the south, but I decided listening to Rodney Adkins, 'What I Love About the South' and 'These are my People' was in order. Good times.

Fast forward the rest of the morning, and into the afternoon. I pull up in front of Kristy's house and she and her two darling boys are sitting in the front yard 'watering' the plants. Kristy is actually watering, the boys are enjoying playing with the wilting flowers she had pruned out. Hugs and kisses out of the way, we sit and chat on the front yard, and got caught up like old times. This to me is the test of a true friendship. We have been friends forever, but haven't lived in the same state for years, or seen each other in ages, and every time we talk on the phone or see each other it is like no time has passed at all. There is never an awkward moment where you have to wonder how to fill the silence. So we chatted, and we ran to the fabric store so she could get new fabric for AMAZING bags and accessories that she makes... you must check them out ...go here now! Do it!! We also stop by this most amazing grocery store with aisles and aisles of the bulk bins that you thought were so magical when you were little. Turns out, they're still pretty entertaining! They have EVERYTHING in these bins!

When we were done Brady was getting off work and we all went for a picnic at the falls by their house. Pics to be posted later. We really just had an entire fabulous day of chatting and playing and making mint covered oreos... and chatting some more. I woke up and left after a yummy breakfast of muffins made from the bin mix from the grocery store ...SO good!! The nose continued in my car, but I was only 2 hours from my parents house now, so I figured it could totally wait till then. So I get to my parents house, walk in, and the surprise was priceless. Hugs and kisses out of the way, I tell my mom that I need to take Nellie (my car) to the shop down the way from our house. She follows me, I explain to the man behind the desk what was going on, and we leave. We're sitting home waiting for Cody and Chelsea to come over so we can all go to lunch, and the mechanic calls. The conversation goes something like this:

Mechanic: "So we have your car here, and the ball joint is completely shredded from one side of your car. It will take x-amount of dollars for parts and labor."

Me: "Sounds great. And it can be done today? I'm leaving early in the morning."

Mechanic: "Yeah, that will be no problem. I took it out for a drive for a couple minutes, heard the noise, and was scared that I wasn't going to make it back to the shop!"

Me: "Yeah, so it's probably not great that I drove it 700 miles from Seattle?"

Mechanic: "LIKE THAT???!!!!" *I can just see the look on his face here ...it will mirror the one on my dad's face when I tell him. Not looking forward to that* "It's a wonder you made it all that way like that. We'll get it fixed."

Me: "Thank you!"

So my family thinks I'm funny --albeit slightly retarded for actually driving my car like that, but they were really just glad to see me. We go shopping and I have dinner with Danielle and meet her beautiful new baby boy and her boyfriend. Company was fabulous, food ...not so much. I get home and repeat the same surprise scene with my dad, and then my mom tells me that when she and my sister picked Nellie up form the shop, she was making an awful squealing noise. This is not good. I have to leave at 0330 to make it back in time for a short nap before working the next day. My dad and I take it for a drive to check it out, and my dad informs me that I CANNOT drive my car with the awful squealing that is taking place on the tire that they fixed the ball joint on. Long story slightly shorter, my random road trip to surprise my family resulted in me flying home today, and my dad and sister taking a random road trip of their own to return my fixed car to me on Monday. They will stay at my apt Monday night, and leave the car at the airport when they fly home on Tuesday. This way, the car will be there for me when I fly back from Disneyland on Wednesday. Wow. Good times right?! I think I'm going to need a new car before I decide to take many more random spur of the moment road trips. For now though, I'm off to work, where hopefully someone will have a miraculous idea on how to pop my left ear that I was sure was going to explode when we started the descent into Seattle.

Fair is fair...

Whenever people ask you to share a most embarrassing moment, I am always stumped. I just never have had one. Folks, I now have a most embarrassing moment. Warning: if you are male, you do not want to read this. It will be too much information. I debated even posting about this, but despite my complete mortification, it is a pretty funny story. So I'm owning it. I was embarrassed and now I'm sharing it with all of you in full-glory-bluntly-honest detail.

So there I was. Saturday night. I was at a party in the home of one of the nurses I work with. We were watching the UFC fight on Saturday, playing pool, eating food and having a generally good time. Bunches of people from the hospital and various fire departments were there. All was well, the fights were good, the food was good, the company was good. Come 1:00am everyone --including the host --was passed out in rooms or gone home. Everyone except me and one friend. We were cuddling on the couch watching replays of the fights we had missed earlier while we were shooting pool. I said to this friend with a flirty smile, "I had something to tell you earlier..." He asked what it was and I wink (I am a fabulous winker) and say teasingly, "I'm not sure I want to tell you any more." He replied, "Oh, yeah?" The next thing I knew, I found myself pinned to the couch and the tickling fight began. For the record, I honestly thought I was tough enough to get away from the wrestling, football-playing, fire-fighting Hawaiian. Not my smartest moment. I am VERY ticklish, and this friend knows this and uses it to his advantage. I don't think this is fighting fair. I gave escaping a effort though --And I have the sore muscles to show it! I twisted and turned with all my might, and I still lost. And really I'm okay with it :) I twisted the two of us right off the couch, he rolled the two of us into and nearly through the large wooden chest serving as a coffee table. I pushed the coffee table across the floor in my attempts to escape, and we ended up in a laughing heap wedged between a recliner chair and the wall. We took a break (he from the tickling, me from the escaping) to catch our breath. He said, "So, are you gonna tell me?" I just laughed and said, "Mmm, no." Resume tickling and escaping. Somehow, he ended up somersaulting the two of us out of the spot we were wedged in, I flipped over the top of him.

Warning number two. If you are male and still reading, this is where you want to stop. Trust me. You don't want to hear it. It's not worth it.

So I land on my back and resume giggling after a loud "umph." My friend sits up to make sure I'm ok, and says, "Uh, did you just pee?" I sit up confused, wondering if I hit my head harder than I remembered, and said, "No!"

**Seriously boys, you want to stop reading, final warning!**

So he looks at me and says, "Well then, time out for that time of the month!" Yeah. Apparently my period decided to come two days early, and I had been so into the party that I did not realize that I had already bled through my pants. Complete mortification sets in immediately. Needless to say, this effectively ends the flirting/tickling fight. I went to a bathroom downstairs that didn't have someone sleeping on it's floor, and counted my small amount of good fortune that Deana had supplies in the guest bathroom. When I returned to the TV room, my friend had found a bag of chips and container of dip that we had cleaned up earlier, and we resumed the re-watching of the fight with a chaste amount of space between us. My face is probably still red, I was so embarrassed.

Luckily, and by some small miracle, there wasn't a single ounce of awkwardness last night when we worked together. It felt like nothing had happened, and we talked and laughed like normal.

So there's my story. And yes, I miss the days when I honestly had nothing to say when people started talking about most embarrassing moments.

Perhaps...

So a couple posts ago I wrote about how I had no idea how I spent so much money. A couple days after that I spent $200 at the salon on my hair. As I was leaving the salon I was forced into the Ann Taylor Loft store near the salon. Yes, forced. Not one of the strangers in the Mall that day said, "Toni, do not go in that store, you don't need $400 in new clothes." Well, ok, maybe I wasn't forced, but no one did anything to prevent it, what's a girl to do? I did take a 3 day spending hiatus when I went home for Sarah's wedding --I was simply too busy to go shopping ...although I did have several meals out ...hmm. Then I was really good when I got back home here because I did nothing but work and get caught up on sleep for three days. Yesterday I only went out to dinner once with a friend and to one movie. I'll get to that in a minute. Today I was terribly bored and was plucking my eyebrows when I became paranoid (due to many hours spent watching What Not To Wear and 10 Years Younger) that I was looking much older than my 26 years. This had to be fixed. Stat. So I ventured back to the mall and spent $112 on new night cream, a skin regenerating serum, and a small bottle of lotion that was near the register. I hate it when you wash your hands in public restrooms and don't have lotion in your bag, so this was really a necessary purchase. And was it my fault that I had to walk back through Nordstrom to my car? There wasn't an entrance that went directly to the store I went to. And it certainly wasn't my fault that the shoes were by the exit. It was clearly no fault of my own that the new summer line of Enzo Angiolini 4" wedge-heeled sandals were on display by the aisle. And it wasn't me that made the shoes call my name. Therefore, I am barely --if at all --responsible for the $108 I spent on the cutest pair of new sandals currently in my closet. I'm just sayin'.

Appendix I: (not the body part, but meant as an appendage to the previous body of literature) He's Just Not That Into You. The book: Wonderful. Every girl needs to read it. The only flaw is the lack of the chapters entitled 'How to make knowing that he's just not that into you okay' and 'Where to find the kind of man that we're telling you exists in this book.' The movie however is a different story. It is all fine and good until the end when Hollywood realized that the brutal reality that is the glory of the book isn't what people want to see in a movie. It doesn't make for a Hollywood happy ever after ending ...and you should all know how I feel about happily ever after. If not, there's previous posts on it. I 'm not going to rehash it here. The point is, that the ending of the movie completely un-does the lessons that we women need to hear; the lessons that were well made throughout the movie. The movie ends with the message, "don't worry, the jerk that won't marry you will eventually come around, and the guy that isn't that into you and was using you will be into you if you hang around long enough." The last line of the movie actually says, "Don't give up hope, ladies!" We shouldn't give up hope, but we shouldn't give up hope that someone who deserves us actually exists and will come along (I'm still working on it, but that's a different story :) ). We should absolutely give up hope that the douche-bag we're waiting around for is going to turn into prince charming. It's not going to happen. That's the beauty of the book. So, all in all, an okay movie if you're looking for a typical chick-flick, but not deserving of the same title as the greatest book ever written for women.

Recent Happenings...

So here I am, getting all caught up on my online stalking, and figured I better post something new so I have room to complain about people not posting for a while. There just hasn't been that much going on lately. I could update you on the episode of How It's Made that I'm watching --but you should just watch it yourself --that show freaking rocks!!! Fair warning to those who like lunch meats though --you may feel differently after you watch how they're made ...so maybe skip over that portion. Anywho -- so things have been good. Christmas and New Years were good. Spent them working :) Nothing earth shattering has happened so far this year, but I'm supposed to be going bowling tonight, so who knows?!! Haha, here's some recent pics.

sledding down the ambulance bay on backboards at work --yeah it was a slow night :)

Siobhan and her cute sisters on Christmas Eve --they were kind enough to let me crash their dinner!

Dr. Dave rockin the New Years shades

Latrice Me and Siobhan --Happy New Year!

Bowling at the Garage for TJ's farewell party --Karl, Me, Deana, Dill, and Siobhan

More at the Garage --Amber, Me, Brianne, and Tilliesa

Mickey and Minnie Visit the Jungle

Yeah. Next in my tales from the Jungle (aka work for those of you who missed the last story --and shame on you, it was a good one): Why Asian-IvyLeague-underage college students shouldn't drink while dressed up as Mickey and Minnie Mouse. That's right folks, once again, you can't make this stuff up! Thankfully last night at work, we were so painfully slow that the entire department was able to sit back and laugh at the hilarity that was my patient. Our friendly FDNY ambulance crew brings us a 20 year old female who had been drinking, passed out, fell down and hit her head on concrete. She was caught and assisted to the ground by her boyfriend. This is a common every night run-of-the-mill story until you take into account that the girl was a Japanese Minnie Mouse. Ears and all (including dress tights and shoes). And her boyfriend who drunkenly stumbled in behind the ambulance crew was dressed as a Japanese Mickey Mouse, spandex, ears and all. We get her moved onto our stretcher and plan to let her sleep it off since there appear to be no obvious injuries. We flop her into standard passed out drunk position, with the head of her bed elevated 30 degrees so that when she vomits she won't suck the stomach acid laden alcohol into her lungs. I start her IV, draw basic labs, and start the bolus-ing of saline --all while she is sleeping. The resident is getting the story from the still intoxicated but rather helpful boyfriend. We like the boyfriend. We feel good about clearing the girl to go home under his care asap. As the resident is talking to Mickey, Minnie --in her passed out state --vomits. For those of you who have never seen and/or smelled alcohol vomit, it's a special experience. Highlighted by rancid bits of whatever food they chose to eat in an ill attempt to sober more quickly. It's not pleasant. And since she is passed out, the vomit doesn't projectile across the room --thank goodness --I would have been in the line of fire. Instead in just oozes and dribbles down her chin and throat downward to her neck and backward in her ears and hair. Are you seeing the comedy in this situation? Is it just because I've been up for a while and had a really boring night? I've got a vomit and alcohol covered Minnie Mouse passed out drunk on a stretcher while Mickey Mouse attempts to drunkenly explain the happenings of the evening to the baby doctor. It doesn't get any better than this. One of my coworkers begins to sing the theme song to the Mickey Mouse Club in the background. I find this funny. I cannot contain my giggles. Nor can any of the other staff within ear shot. Next while we all rolled our eyes, the baby docs decide that we need to order more labs and a CT scan because the girl isn't acting right. Well, she isn't acting right because she is insanely drunk, and still being under the legal drinking age doesn't have a whole lot of experience being that drunk. She's not going to act normal. She was acting much more normal than any of the other drunks that we get. Stupid baby docs. So three hours later Minnie has been medically cleared via CT scan, meaning that when she can walk with a steady gait, she can go. She wakes up soon there-after, and is indeed ready to go. She doesn't understand why she is dressed as Minnie Mouse, nor why she is so cold. We recount the last 4 hours of her life for her, and "road test" her. She is indeed ready to go. So baby doc tries to wake up Mickey. And tries again. Turns out Mickey is passed out drunk, and doesn't want to wake up. We are contemplating giving a quick banana bag iv to mickey even though he is not technically a patient --ya know, like a buy one get one free type of deal. Minnie does not like this idea because she is cold and wants to go home. Luckily Mickey woke up, had a steady gait, and they were both able to leave. As they were leaving, Matt, the other nurse on my team turns to me shaking his head ans says, "See. This is why Asians shouldn't drink." Matt is Korean. When I look at him with one eyebrow raised, he says, "Yeah, me included, I haven't been Mickey Mouse before, but I'm not a good drunk either." I SOO wish that is wasn't unethical on so many levels to take a picture of them both passed out in full costume! You'll all just have to use your imaginations!

In other Jungle news, we were so bored last night that we had a fantastic time online. There is a great website that I don't technically remember the name of but you can get there through the website I'm about to tell you about. It's where I'm getting all your christmas presents --it's great inventions.com or something like that (that's right Kristin, you can actually see what you're getting and I won't make it be a surprise!). Back to being bored at work, last night we discovered that one of the nurses we work with was left by his wife a couple days ago. Now, the great thing about New York is that we don't sit around gossipping behind his back and telling each other how sorry we are for him, and telling everyone but him that we wished there was something we could do for him. Marvin, the charge nurse, says, (and I quote) "Well hell, John! You need another wife? I'll find ya one! C'mere!" Marvin then googles 'mail order brides' and it turns out there is a website http://www.mailorderbrides.net/. So we all (John included) laughed and joked about the pros and cons of mail order brides from various countries. This naturally progressed to finding a mail order husband website so that half of us didn't feel excluded. Ladies and gentlemen, I have found the man I'm going to marry. His name is Bertram (Sarah, I know you're proud of me already). And he's from Canada, which would make Josh proud (he remains convinced that I'm Canadian because I don't like milk or ice cream.) Unfortunately I can't copy his picture from the web page, and when I try to take a picture of it with my camera it just comes out blurry and thus does not do the glory that is my future husband justice. I can copy the personal by his picture though:

Name: Bertram

Clyde seeks Bonnie to be partners in crime... I am a trouble maker! Techno-hedonist prone to psychobabble and taking stupid risks. Fun craving, riot inciting, thrill seeking geek girls preferred. Choir girls need not apply, because I plan on committing a few sins and misdemeanors in my time. I got booted off Match.com for cyber stalking but I'm better now.

It's a match made in heaven! You'll just have to check out the picture for yourself. Trust me, you want to!!! Go to www.mailorderhusbands.net/order now scroll down till you see Bertram. And my fellow single friends, don't be shy if you see one you like. Maybe we can get a package deal. They have all been assigned to teams already, Bertram is mine, but bonus points if you can guess who gets whom on who's team and why :) We really shouldn't be allowed to get bored at work.

Oh, and one more random tidbit of why I love New York. As I mentioned before with John's wife, you just say what is on your mind here. It's total blunt honesty in a way that is refreshing and impossible to find anywhere else in the country. A prime example of this was a headline in the paper that I got in the morning on the way home from work yesterday. I took a picture so you'd all be able to share :) It's pretty self explanatory.

Have a nice day :)

To Whom It May Concern:

Dear Florida Board of Nursing: How long can it possibly take to get fingerprint cards mailed from Florida to New York City? Apparently more than A MONTH!!! I could have rode my bicycle (assuming i had a bicycle) to Miami to pick them up and back by now. Send me my fingerprint cards!!!!

Dear Eye Doctor: Thank you for deciding that you needed to see me before allowing me to refill my contact perscription so that I can see. I understand that my eyes must have changed exponentially in the last 9 months since I've seen you, and it's perfectly logical for me to jet home to Logan to make an appointment to see you. Remember when I saw you 9 months ago (I know it seems like forever) and we discussed that I would be moving around the country so it would be a good idea to keep my normal two year interval between appointments, and would thus-ly need two years worth of contact lenses? What happened to that idea? I am not so much all about the risk of infection and corneal abrasion etc of wearing the same pair of contacts longer than recommended. And although I do look pretty damn cute in my glasses (see random thought #4) they get in the way at work. Which brings me to:

Dear creepy-going-to-go-postal-any-day-now-at-work-guy: Please leave me alone. It is creepy when you stand so close. When I am not friendly and outgoing toward you, I am not playing hard to get. When you are the only one not actively involved in saving a man's life, and I am forced to ask you to take my glasses off my face or risk having them drop on the bloody-vomit covered body of the man who I am doing chest compressions on, it is not a come on. It just means that I am compressing so hard that my glasses are sliding down my nose, and I would like you to remove them from my face and go place them somewhere away from the bloody vomit. This would not only save my glasses but give you something to do besides standing 2 inches behind me breathing on me as I try to save this man's life.

Dear Cute Man who hit on me on the way home today: Thank you. I know I told you I was married, but that doesn't mean I didn't secretly appreciate being asked, "Excuse me ...can we get to know each other and ...ya know ...socialize?" As I am walking home in rain drenched scrubs after working a twelve hour shift with a greasy face and messy hair in a messy ponytail.

Dear MTA: Thank you first for suspending all express train service this weekend so I can enjoy an extra 15 minutes on an over-packed subway while you maintain the express tracks. Thank you also for 'maintaining' the express tracks which always seem to run without a problem instead of the local track which broke a rail today suspending all subway service from 110th St. and 42nd St. I enjoyed choosing between a 70 block walk home in the pouring rain, or a 6 block walk to sit on a bus for 30 minutes.

Dear no-longer drunk and high on PCP and Crack 65 year old man: Thank you for buying an orange soda for me the other day at work. Although I told you no thank you, and to enjoy it for yourself, I want you to know that it honestly made my day that you would do that for me. You are a very pleasant and sweet man when you are not screaming profanities at us. You should not do drugs so you can be sweet and pleasant all the time.

Dear hot paramedic: Thank you for offering to drive me to the deli three blocks away in your ambulance at 2:30 this morning (perhaps wearing the glasses more often won't be such a bad thing :) ). I appreciated it, but I was really enjoying the nice walk. Perhaps next time you won't get sent out on another call so soon and I'll take you up on your offer. Perhaps next time when you don't have other medics in the back of the ambulance we can discuss other ways to spend my break. Call me.

PS: Dear Hot Paramedic, please send a friend hot paramedic to Utah to entertain my friend Jill on her breaks. The hospital she works at has many really big elevators and stairwells.

Birthday Shenanigans

I don't know how to spell shenanigans. It's not in the dictionary --therefore, that's how you spell it! Happy birthday to me! I am getting so old!!! Seriously. Remember back in the day when you were little and high school kids were the coolest and most grown up thing that your little brain could fathom? Then you got to high school and, let's face it, nothing existed except your own little high school world. But shortly there-after you begin to look forward to all that lies ahead. You go to college, and the 22 year old Relief Society president intimidates your socks off because she is so old and mature and has everything so together. Now I'm typing 22 saying, "Gosh, that's so young!" I graduated from college, and liked it so much I graduated twice. I could have gone another 2 semesters and finished a third degree, but that might have been a bit of over kill. I spent the first month --ok 2 months. Ok, 3-6 months after graduation in a stupor wondering what to do with myself. I already had a full time job, but I'd had that for the last 2 years of school, and I didn't have a clue what grown-ups did with all the time that they weren't at work. It took a while to adjust to not having school and studying thrown into my every day life. I'm still by no means a grown-up yet ...at least not in my mind :)

This is the first birthday that I've spent away from home, so the usual birthday-day with family, and birthday-day with friends didn't have to be balanced. I worked the night before my birthday, and it was a bittersweet night. I spent the whole night in Trauma C --usually lots of fun, and my best friend was my tech, so we were all kinds of excited. The only downer was that it was our last night of working together --he left for Hawaii on vaca 2 days later, and when he gets back, my contract will be over. But enough with the sad. We got our butts kicked the entire night. It was one medic after another. I had three intubated patients, 2 medic-eval chest pains, one of whom was a cat-lab MI, and I didn't send one patient home the whole night. Wait, that's not true, I sent home an 11 year old who we thought might have a lacerated spleen, but the scans were clean. Everyone else was admitted to the ICU/CCU. I did however get a birthday hat --made from an emesis basin with a blown up glove sticking out the top. I also got 26 staples -one for every year in the right sleeve of my scrub top. And 26 paper clips attached to the cuff of my left scrub top sleeve. Why I held still and let him do this, I'm not sure --I should probably take the staples out before I have to go to work tomorrow.

Back on track. So after work, we went to breakfast. It was just the three of us, for one last time. Sad! Tears were shed. By me. But I was able to hold them off until I was in the car by myself. Breakfast was good --despite the fact that I was forced to wear my birthday hat inside the bar. I was allowed to take it off to play pool :) Then I spent a large part of my day doing one of my favorite pastimes --sleeping! I got up in time to get ready and go to dinner with my 2 best friends in Seattle. We went to the Crab Pot down on the water-front. It was awesome! They line the table with butcher paper and give you each a bib and a mallet, then dump your seafood dinner (seafood in shells, shrimp with head tails and legs still attached and all) on the table and you just go at it. Yummy! After dinner, we walked around the pier, went to Fado's then went bowling at the Garage. All in all a good day. And it still felt like I was at home when I came home and had messages from everyone either on my cell or on facebook! I have the greatest friends and family ever!!! Here's to a great year! And as a shout out to my girls back home --it's our year dammit!!!!

The Breakfast Club

Mmm, breakfast! Let me explain a couple things for those of you who may not have any experience working night shift in a ER. Your co-workers are your family. The doctors, nurses, techs, respiratory therapists, firefighters, cops, paramedics, etc that you work with are the closest kind of family there is. It's like the dead dads club from Grey's Anatomy. You can't be in it till you're in it. Lots of people can understand parts of your day and parts of your job, but you just can't know until you've been there night in and night out and seen all the best and worst that humanity has to offer. I've worked in other places, and I think that you get close to your coworkers no matter where you work or the profession that you're in, but nothing compares to the ER. Like I said, you can't know until you know, so I'm not going to sped a lot of time trying to explain. Lots of people go out to eat with coworkers after work, but it's not the same. When a group of us gets together to unwind, only we can understand the pain on each other's faces over the 9 month old we were unable to save after he was beat by his parents, The baby who died after being on a ventilator for a month after it was born at 25 weeks and weighing less than a pound. The look on the family's face who is suddenly without one or both parents because of some drunk driver, and watching them trying to deal with that while not being able to tune out the crazy drunk person across the department shouting profanities at the top of his lungs. See, now I'm getting away from the point of this post ...believe it or not, it wasn't to make you sad, or to point out what we deal with at work --it really is just another day to us. It has to be, or else it would eat us alive.

The point was, that we have a great time every Friday morning at breakfast. It's our own little breakfast club. Some of us get off at 5:30, and others don't get off till 7:30. The bar opens at six (yes, the bar ...nope, still don't drink :) ) so those of us that get off at 5:30 play pool, or just hang out and talk until our 7:30 friends get there, then we order food, play some more, and enjoy not having other people's lives in our hands. It's kind of like our own little therapy where we repress all the depression and carnage from the week before deep down inside because we can't talk about it outside of work to any one. Privacy laws. But we all know. It's part of the club. I love breakfast days! It's one of the things I'm going to miss the most when I leave this place, so I thought I'd share it with you. The following pics are from breakfast last Friday, where we said goodbye to Anne, one of the travellers that works with us.

Fire Friends

Something you may not know about me is that I'm not allowed to talk to other people within 15 minutes after waking up. I also have to turn off all my phones because I have been known to have answered the phone in my sleep and carry on a full conversation, which I wake up halfway through. I also have to set my alarm clock for at least 30 minutes before I actually need to wake up because by the time I equate 'alarm going off' = 'need to get up' I have hit the snooze button at least three times. I have found it's best to give myself an hour to fully be awake before attempting anything so adventurous as using the phone or getting out of bed. So imagine my surprise when the other day I woke up to the most obnoxious beeping I have ever heard in my life. I had been asleep for an hour and 37 minutes after getting home from work the night before, and I spent a good 5 minutes pushing every button on my alarm clock trying to make the noise stop. Then I half-consciously stumbled into the living room to make sure the fireplace and/or fridge and/or washer/dryer weren't malfunctioning. On my way back to bed I walked past the fire alarm and briefly wondered if that's what the noise was, but in my half conscious state I determined that since a) there was no blinking lights accompanying the beeping b) I could not see or smell smoke c) neither the floor nor the walls felt warm d) the sprinklers were not on --it could not be the fire alarm. I crawled back under the covers, plugged my ears and put a pillow over my head, and attempted to go back to sleep. After about 10 more minutes, the beeping persisted and I was awake enough to realize that I should probably really figure out what the beeping was. So I threw on a hoodie over my jammies, ran my fingers through my hair, and grabbed my glasses. I opened the door, to see my crazy neighbor from across the hall who informed me that it was indeed the fire alarm. I still wasn't awake to inquire about why she was still in the building if she knew what the sound was. I sleepily stumbled back into my apartment, grabbed my cell phone and keys (ah, the important things :) ) and dutifully locked my door on the way to the stairs. When I got down stairs there was indeed a large conglomeration of my neighbors. Apparently the water line to the hot tub that's on the roof sprung a leek and was spurting water everywhere. So, as we're all standing there sans make-up and real clothes (most of us that were home at 10:30 in the morning work nights) Up pull 3 trucks of Seattle's Finest ...Yep. That's right. Three trucks full of hot firemen --gear and all!

So eventually we were allowed back in our apartments and an hour and a half after that, they were able to turn off the alarm and I was able to drift back into a blissfull slumber for a couple more hours before I had to wake u to go back to work.

Quick update...

So the elevator company was able to retrieve my keys from the depths of the elevator shaft in time for me to go to work, I was stuck in triage for 6 of the 8 hours --which reminds me --if you are a parent and you bring your child to the emergency room for a fever (104 in this case) without giving them tylenol and motrin (why would you do this? Do you want your child to have a seizure? Do you?) and we give them said medicines in triage, it does not mean that you should leave when their fever breaks in the waiting room. This is what happens when you properly medicate your child --their fever will go down, and they will start acting more like themselves! Ah, the marvels of modern medicine. This does not however mean that your child is not sick. If you decide to leave AMA before we have evaluated your child, that is your decision. A stupid one, but your decision none the less. We will also be more than happy to rush your child through triage when you bring them back in 5 hours when the temp is back to 105, and your child is breathing at a rate of 50 breaths per minute with retractions and nasal flaring. We will also lecture you sternly on how to make better decisions regarding your child's health in the future.

Anyway, I made it through triage and 2 hours of a trauma assignment --thank goodness for good company at work! Then I made it to the airport, and I'm sitting here chilling --trying not to be too irritated by the 4yr old with the camera sending flashes in everyone's face. When what to my wandering eyes should appear but the Dalai Lama. Seriously. Entourage and all. How random is my life?!

You can't make this stuff up...

So there I was... (that's how all good stories start) I got home from work this morning, ran down to the market to get a couple presents for old roommates for when I travel home this weekend. I came home and thought I'd check to see if my accountant had mailed me my tax stuff yet. So I changed into my pj's, traded my contacts for my glasses --this was my first mistake :). So I head down to the elevator were I wait patiently for what I swear is the slowest elevator in the world. The bell dings, the door opens, a large dog runs out of the elevator into my hand that was holding the keys, and I watched in utter disbelief as my keys dropped down the elevator shaft. Seriously. Then in horror I looked up into the very pretty blue eyes of the very attractive man who owned the dog who caused the keys to go plummeting to the depths below. Both of us stared down the inch wide gap that my rather large assortment of keys and key chains had managed to slip through. I think my exact words were, "Oohh, this is very not good!" Intelligent right?! Let's remember that I'm in my jammies. We ran down the stairs, and after not seeing my keys miraculously at the ground floor of my apartment complex (and profusely apologizing) the attractive man left with his stupid dog.

To make matters even more comical, I still have to go back to work tonight, and I am leaving right from work to go the airport to leave to come home. And the keys to my car and to my apartment and to the apartment building and my mailbox etc were all on the ring that is lost in the unknown levels of elevator cables and concrete. And it's a state law that building maintenance workers can't interfere with the elevators, so the cute maintenance guy had to call the elevator company, who said that they'll add it to the list of calls they are going out on, and that if we don't hear from them today that it wouldn't be until tomorrow. Which is fine, but I won't be here tomorrow. Oh, and the spare key to my car is at my parents house in Logan, UT. You're seeing the humor right? :) And let's remember that I'm still in my pajamas!

I'm sure it will all be fine, it's not like it's a big deal to take a cab to work and a cab from work to the airport, I just found the whole situation rather funny and thought you all might enjoy a good laugh! Now I should really try to sleep for an hour or so before I have to go to work. But my recommendation for the day: Stairs. They're healthier, and should you happen to drop your keys for whatever reason, all you have to do is follow down the stairs and pick them up.