Saturday, April 25, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
My weekly words come from a site called 'Save the Words' and you can adopt your own by visiting them. (www.savethewords.org/)
This week's word is veprecose
Veprecose: adj - full of prickly shrubs or bushes
Making love in the veprecose field behind the old warehouse proved to be a poor idea, as I ended up with a thorn in my arse!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Room 121 B – Martha French… Is a German lady with a feeding tube who is bedridden and rarely speaks. She said ‘Hi’ to me, and laughed when I spilled a can of Nutren Glytrol on myself. (a sticky nutritional supplement) It’s our running joke that I am the messy nurse. She was having a good day.
Room 122 B – William the pervert…was out with his wife during my shift . Yeah!
Room 123 A – Ellen Anderson…was not having such a good day. Wanted to go out and buy her daughter a Christmas present. “I had the strangest dream…and you were in it! You were giving me pills.” Um… that wasn’t a dream, but okay.
Room 124 A – Sally Caron… 10:45 PM “Honey, have they served breakfast yet?” Actually, yes, although it was some time ago! I got her some cereal and decaf, she went back to bed.
Room 125 – Mr. and Mrs. Martin… “Our son that has MS had to have back surgery today,” a teary eyed Mrs. Martin told me. “He is so sick. He fell down a flight of steps at work fifteen years ago and hasn’t been the same since, and now, with the MS…”
Room 126 B – Marvin Borders… Was running around with his lady friend as usual! They are so cute together!
Room 127 A – Louise Zimmer… Upon returning from a visit with her huband, hands me her hearing aides, and states “Finally! I can get some peace and quiet! That man never shuts up!”
Room 128 – Margie Guisen… “Did you run the numbers for the Allen account?” (She was reading them off her bed spread) Of course I did, and we will discuss them over dinner tomorrow.
Room 129 A – Janet Wones…Her electric recliner decided to short out while she was up in the air. It took myself and two of my aides to get her safely into her bed.
Room 129 B – Esther Williams… “Honey, is my husband dead?” I tell her that he is (this is a conversation we have often) and ask her to tell me something about him. I have found that the best way to deal with this is to ask her to tell me a story about him, and of course give her a big hug and a kiss and cover her up tight. Let me add that her daughter – an only child – is a worthless piece of shit that moved out of the country and quit paying to have her mother’s hair done. I make sure she gets it done at least once a month. I would love to knock that daughter out! (Ooooh! Do I sense a little hostility?)
Room 130 A – Margaret Ashworth… returned from the hospital. I am glad to have her back safe and sound.
Room 130 B – Edna Owens… Was a very active 96 year old woman before a fracture in her right hip left her bedridden a few weeks ago. I have been very concerned about her mental health, but she seems to be doing well. I contacted her church group and some of her friends on campus and encouraged them to visit. They have been, and she was very excited to tell me about someone who brought her a tape player and books on tape. She always keeps peppermint patties on hand for me. Yum!
Room 131 A – Betty Salyer… Went home on Thursday. Normally this would be a good thing, but she is living with her son and about fifteen cats and was not cared for very well. The son is a little questionable… maybe a little ‘slow’. I was sad to see her go.
Room 132 A – Ruby Wentworth… Is about 65 and was admitted after a stroke. She has a hard time getting her words out, but I have learned to communicate well with her and usually know what she is trying to say. She enjoys hearing about my dates, and I enjoy telling her.
Room 133 B – Josephine Flannigan…Is known across the whole campus as ‘The Drug Queen’ . Most nurses dread working with her. I have actually had her open doors to other patients rooms looking for me. I have learned just to give her whatever she wants (within reason) and we get along famously. She knows my work schedule better than the staffing office!
A few notes
*The nursing facility where I work is very large. We house approximately 800 residents in independent homes, apartments, and in the skilled (nursing home) area. That’s why they call it a campus. We have our own water tower and post office even!
*I have 25 patients all together. These were just the most interesting tidbits from last night.
*Obviously there is much more to my job, but the rest of you would either find boring or gross, so I left it out.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Hormones never help. Many people who have never experienced any type of clinical depression tend to think I should just cheer up. I wish it was that easy. I know this is only temporary. I go through it several times a year. Probably a few more weeks. Maybe more, hopefully less. In the meantime, I put on my fake smile and prance about. It makes everyone feel better.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
*I…had a second date with Greg Monday night! It was quite lovely, we went to a local crafts store and walked around to kill time before we went to a movie. We are both crafty people, myself being a painter, and him doing a little of everything, mainly woodburning. We went to see ‘The Last House on the Left’, a slasher flick, which was pretty good, but I was having a hard time giving it my full attention! Hmmm… We then went to dinner at a wings place. We both had wings. Eat em’ with your fingers, greasy, messy, dripping, wings. No room to be shy there! AND we both had garlic wings to boot! I am so very proud of myself, as I again kept my legs crossed on the advice of Mummy Nat! This is getting difficult!
*I …had a great birthday! Saturday, (the 4th)I had dinner at my dad’s house, then joined my friends at a pub for drinks, then my best friend Ricky invited us all back to his place to finish off the evening! All my fave girls came, and as usual, we danced the night away listening to vinyl, and my friend Alicia’s ipod on which she put together a special playlist for me! Sunday, my mom and step dad took me out to dinner at one of my favourite BBQ joints. Monday found me relaxing, and on Tuesday, my actual birthday, my friend Alicia took me out for wings (I really like wings) and then to the local watering hole where we were joined by the rest of our group!
*I…have a birthday celebration theory. If your birthday falls on a weekday, you may celebrate for your birthday the weekend before, the week of, and the weekend after. If your birthday falls on a weekend, (you lucky duck!) you may celebrate the weekend before, the week leading up to, the weekend of your birthday, the week after, and the next weekend! After that, may the force be with you!
*If…you are a parent and yes, I mean YOU! You have the hardest, most important job in the world! Go aisy on yerself! As long as you are doing the best you can, that’s all anyone can ask. If they ask for more, shoot them with a laser beam!
Monday, April 13, 2009
Lady of the laundry
Lover of the land.
Teacher of the Divine,
Seeker of wisdom.
Wonderful womanly witch,
Golden gossamer Goddess.
Sharing sacred secrets,
Writing soulful songs.
What a wonderful soul!
Happy Birthday with
All my love-
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
As of 4:17 this morning, I am thirty years old. I still sleep with my teddy bear. My mom bought him for me when I was born, and I slept with him and a blanket she had crocheted. Despite many attempts to tear them away from me, I slept with both until I was twenty years old when my ex moved in with me. That was a hard thing to give up, but was also a terribly embarrassing habit.
In 2005 I had a ‘mental breakdown’ and spent a week in the behavioral health unit (read: looney bin lol!) of our local hospital. On day two, my mom brought Teddy with her on her visit. It was one of the loneliest and most frightening times of my life, yet my dear stuffed friend didn’t judge me and didn’t hold it against me for ditching him for my ex.
Returning home was almost equally as frightening as being admitted to the hospital, and I slept with Teddy for a good six months after my return before he went to the closet.
When my ex and I started having severe problems, Teddy was again glad to comfort me. When my ex started traveling for work, staying gone for weeks or months at a time, Teddy was there to step up and take his place. When I kicked my ex out last July, Teddy was GLAD TO SEE HIM GO!
I did not fall off the face of the earth. Feeling kinda blah and uninspired lately...weather changes tend to do that to me. It was in the 70's last week, and is snowing today!
Will be returning soon.
Love to all.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
*I…had a pity party for myself yesterday. Teary eyed, pissy, whiney, hormonal. Oh, I’m going to be thirty and I have accomplished nothing… no body loves me…I’m fat and ugly and have a big zit. My house is messy, the laundry needs done, shitty litter boxes need cleaned, and I can’t get any over time at work. Boo-hoo, woe is me, think I’ll drink some booze. Decided that wasn’t the best idea. Think I’ll drown myself in chocolate. Better alternative, but still not a good idea. Think I’ll read some blogs.
*I…read many blogs last night. Stopped crying for myself, but started crying for the pain others are experiencing. Why is life so unfair? These people don’t deserve this pain. Why can’t I help them? Why can’t I help everyone? Why can’t I make puppies, rainbows, and children’s laughter for the world so everyone can be happy and everything can be wonderful?
*I… clicked on a link from a post by Gina at From The Myst (http://blackstonemyst.blogspot.com/2009/03/this-is-beauty.html) I laughed so hard that I had to stop reading, and come back. I will definitely be following that blog!
*I…felt better. Got a new word. Had comments on my blog. Talked to Greg. Didn’t reveal that I become a psychopath once a month. That I probably have only one good week out of the month, as I suffer from pre-menstrual syndrome, during menstrual syndrome, and post menstrual syndrome!
*Today…Is a beautiful day. I have wonderful blogger friends. ‘The sun is out, the sky is blue, it’s beautiful, and so are you!” (Dear Prudence by The Beatles)
I found the website 'Save The Words' through a post at Lovely Lisa's site. Here is her post :
You can adopt your own word at the Save The Words website:
These are real words as far as I know, but are considered obsolete, and are no longer in the dictionary.
I love language, and hate to see wonderful words such as 'volgivagant' and 'vanmost' kicked out of the dictionary to make room for words like 'crunk'! (which I gather is a rap term that means crazy drunk)
Volgivagant was my first word, and you can see my original post at:
Sunday, March 29, 2009
After the person I met in January quickly turned out to be not what I had originally thought, I started talking to Greg again. “You e mailed and asked why I deleted you from my friends list. Some crazy things happened in my life very quickly, and I kinda shut myself off…anyway, I’m back if you still want to talk.” Amazingly enough, he did.
We chatted on MySpace, then exchanged numbers and started texting (oh joy!) and eventually started talking on the phone. He scared me to death. Why? Because he is so nice. He said many things to me that were similar to the things Mr. January had said. That person had me completely snowed, and I wasn’t about to let it happen again.
Besides that, Greg doesn’t have a license. A big dating no no for me. He lost it following a DUI in October. (He gets it back at the end of April) I believe people do stupid things and learn from their mistakes. God knows I’ve done plenty of stupid crap in my life. In addition, I had broken an even bigger dating no no to see Mr. January. That was my fault.
Greg continued being his very sweet self, telling me he would have his license back soon, and he could take me out. We started talking and texting all day. Every day. He couldn’t understand when I told him I was afraid of his niceness. I think he was a little upset with me when I told him I was afraid he was a player, but I was just telling the truth.
Soooo… I accepted the date with Mike last weekend, which we all know didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped. Now I’m glad.
Greg and I were talking earlier in the week when he told me he would be off Sunday, would I like to come and take him out for dinner? That must have been a hard thing to ask a girl. I would think it was very emasculating. I accepted.
Tonight, I picked him up at his house. We went to Red Lobster, which is a pretty nice (read: pricy) restaurant. Definitely not volgivagant. Nice dinner, we were there for almost two hours talking. I was so nervous I shook the whole time. He suggested a movie. A real movie in a theatre. It has been almost four years since I’ve been to the movies! The movie didn’t start until 10:15, so when we left Red Lobster, we went to a bookstore next to the theatre. We walked around and held hands, and he put his arm around me, kissed my hand, and played with my hair. (Awwww…. Do you want to throw up yet?) He leaned over and smelled my hair. “You smell so good,” he said. Now if I am going to make the effort to be all dolled up and put on my lotions and potions for a guy, he damn well better notice!
Not only do I appreciate when a guy notices that I have my stink pretty on, but it makes me more comfortable. I have a thing about smells. I love to smell things. Not everything, obviously, but I knew when he smelled my hair that he wasn’t going to freak out if I leaned into him and took a big whiff of his cologne. He smelled really good, too, by the way. He was wearing cologne he ordered from Ireland called Patrick.
We left the bookstore, and went to the theatre. He took me to see ‘The Haunting in Connecticut’. We both love horror movies. He held my hand, put his arm around me, it was all very comfortable, and my nerves eased up a little.
All night he remembered to open doors, told me how nice I looked, and how he loves to see me smile. My face hurts, and I’m STILL smiling! Then I had to take him home. The date was over. Neither of us was happy for it to end, but it was past midnight, and short of making out in the backseat there was nothing left to do. Mummy Nat will be proud, I kept my legs crossed!
I wanted to tell you all so badly, but was afraid I would jinx myself! I can’t wait to see him again, and he has called me once and texted me several times saying he feels the same way! I so hope he doesn’t turn out to be a player. My poor little heart can’t take much more breaking!
Saturday, March 28, 2009
I loved the 'Adopt A Word' Post from Lisa (http://raihndrops.blogspot.com/2009/03/1152-pm-pregnatress-adopt-word.html) that I decided to adopt my own!
YOU can adopt your own at Save The Words. (http://www.savethewords.org/)
VOLGIVAGANT (adj) pertaining to the common people
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
As he got closer, he saw that it was a young man and the young man wasn't dancing, but instead he was reaching down to the shore, picking up something and very gently throwing it into the ocean.
As he got closer he called out, "Good morning! What are you doing?"
The young man paused, looked up and replied, "Throwing starfish in the ocean."
"I guess I should have asked, why are you throwing starfish in the ocean?"
"The sun is up and the tide is going out. And if I don't throw them in they'll die."
"But, young man, don't you realize that there are miles and miles of beach and starfish all along it. You can't possibly make a difference!"
The young man listened politely. Then bent down, picked up another starfish and threw it into the sea, past the breaking waves and said- "It made a difference for that one."
How many "starfish" do you come across in a day?
- Author Unknown
I came across this on the net and wanted to share it. I would love to know and give credit to whoever wrote this. If you have any idea please let me know!
Monday, March 23, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Friday, March 20, 2009
Thank you Natalie at Musings From The Deep (http://mummypandy.blogspot.com)
It is the first day of spring here, and a beautiful one it is! I feel better already. I’m beginning to shake the winter funk, and am excited about my big weekend!
*Text from Mike when I woke up this morning…”I can’t wait until tomorrow. I can’t stop thinking about you.” Sounds promising…I am starting to get nervous!
*Found out that drug guy is MARRIED! Has been for ELEVEN YEARS! What a douche.
*I didn’t finish the painting for my best friend’s birthday gift. Guess he is getting a bottle of his favourite cherry vodka. That’s probably better than my art anyway!
*Fat cats are happy the windows are open. We all know life is all about making our pets happy!
*Decided that it was okay for me to buy something to take to the party tonight instead of making something. Cop out! **********This is me holding my friend's baby the day she was born*********************
*Found out my friend’s baby is partially deaf in both ears. Hoping it is just fluid that can be drained.
*Can’t wait for the party tonight…dancing all night listening to records, talking about crazy stuff, people who don’t think I’m (too) crazy!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
*Friday night is a surprise birthday party for my best friend. He will be 30 tomorrow. Funny part is, he’s gay, and the party is a girl’s nite event with him and his boyfriend! We have girl’s night parties with them all the time, and always have a ball. I’m sure this time will also be great.
*Saturday night. I have a date! A mutual friend insisted I should meet Mike, and we all ‘happened’(?) to be in the same place at the same time one night. I ran into him at one of my clubs last night, and we talked for several hours. He asked if he could take me out Saturday night. I accepted. Not only has he texted me all day, he actually CALLED twice saying how excited he is! I know it sounds like I’m just out picking guys up, but I’m not! They are suddenly coming from out of nowhere!
*And I’m wondering, is the niceness of a guy directly related to how big of a jerk they really are? My experience has been that the ‘nicest’ guys turn out to be the biggest jerks! Maybe it’s because the nicer they seem at first, the bigger the crash is when I find out they aren’t. Poor Mike has his work cut out for him with me!
One thing I have discovered after returning to dating after a ten-year relationship is that many things are considered acceptable that once were not. When did it become okay for a guy to send you pictures of his junk that he took with his cell phone? To ask what kind of panties you have on? Give me a break!
The sad part is that in the beginning I just accepted that that is the way things were, and thought that was the way I was supposed to be. I put up with and did a lot of things that I would not have normally done. Because I was trying to fit into a mold.
Fortunately, I figured out that I didn’t have to do that. It just took me too long to figure it out. So, see ya later drug guy!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
I worked yet another double shift last night and something interesting happened…
On midnight shift, we get our drug delivery. The guy comes in with a sealed tote, cuts the tags off with a box cutter, and presents us with an abundance of medications! I’m usually gone for the night when this happens and don’t see the ‘drug guy’ (our affectionate term for him) very often. Last night I was checking in the narcotics talking to him, and he asked if we had his phone number on the unit. He said he likes to make sure everyone has it in case we need anything. I told him we did not, and he wrote it down and handed it to me.
More idle chitchat, I made a comment that I wouldn’t like all the driving that his job entails. He said something about having people text or call him to keep him company. Off he went.
I went on break, and when I returned, the other nurse on the floor said the drug guy had called. She was absolutely giddy, almost jumping up and down. Apparently he called and said he ‘lost’ his box cutter, thought he may have left it there. Said to tell the nurse who checked in the meds to call him, he had given her his number. The other nurse said she offered to look for it, and he said just to have me call him.
So I did.
No, I didn’t see his box cutter anywhere. Yes, I would keep an eye out for it. Then he says, “Oh, and you can text me later if you have time.” (Again with the texting!) The other nurse was sure he just wanted me to call him. I wasn’t sold on that…like I have said before I don’t look sexy at all when I’m at work, and when he sees me I have already been there for at least 10 hours!
So, I texted him. The following is our conversation, he is D.G., and I am V.A.
V.A. This is Vevay from Newbright. Did you find what you were looking for?
D.G. Not yet. Are you keeping busy?
V.A. We have two orientees tonight, but I am still trying to finish paperwork from 3-11, so that is keeping me busy. Guess you just stay busy, huh?
D.G. Yea, I am surprised you sent me a text.
D.G. Just didn’t think you would go for it.
V.A. Did you really even lose your box cutter?
D.G. Yes, but I wanted you to text me. That’s why I gave you my number!
V.A. Thought you were being sly? That’s funny. I probably wouldn’t have texted if you hadn’t called, though.
D.G. Why not? I dropped a big hint!
V.A. You said you give your number to everyone.
D.G. I don’t really.
After this he started sending messages, Are you still there? Hope I didn’t upset you. Did I make you mad? I replied to these, but it seemed like he wasn’t getting my messages. Then it dawned on me that he was trying to get me to call him!
V.A. Either you are really not getting my messages or you are trying to get me to call you.
D.G. You got me.
V.A. Well, I do have to get back to work but maybe later today.
D.G. I will be hoping to hear from you!
And maybe I will…you have to give a guy credit for a move like that. Right now though, I need sleep. I’ve been awake for 22 hours, and my lovely bed and two fat cats miss me!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I have always had very vivid dreams. I used to have night terrors so bad that I take a medication to help me stay out of that sleep mode. I can still vividly recall the worst nightmare I ever had, which occurred when I was about five. When things with my ex were really bad I would wake up out of a dead sleep screaming and crying.
Strange how I remember the most horrifying dreams, and not the good ones. Kind of like life where, for me anyway, it seems so much easier to recall the bad than to recall the good. Why is that?
Now that I have that out of my system…good stuff!
*I have another double shift scheduled Friday! Have I told you yet how grateful I am to have a good job?
*I got new make-up! I am very girly that way, I love make-up and lotions and potions.
*I am so grateful to have a place to live. I met a homeless man last weekend. I had never actually met anyone who was homeless. My first instinct was to bring him home, but I decided that wasn’t a good idea. I have to keep myself in check over things like that.
*Books Books Books! I love to read. Just finished ‘Mockingbird’ again and have started ‘Angela’s Ashes’. This is another book I read several times a year. Many people don’t understand why I would re-read a book, but to me it’s like listening to a record you love over and over again.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
From the warmth of the enclosed porch I spied on the wintry scene outside. The wind was still, and the falling snowflakes silently joined those that had already formed a soft blanket over the landscape. Large boxwoods were swaddled in the white, giving the impression of mounds of cotton in the yard. Bright red cardinals conspicuously stood out against the otherwise colorless expanse of land, rummaging through the snow for food.
On the porch, the plastic that covered the windows rattled slightly, obscuring my view. Every winter my Papa tacked the plastic up in an effort to keep old man winter at bay, so the porch could still be used comfortably, mainly by me. At one end of the porch Granny had set up one of many artificial Christmas trees, adorned with miscellaneous ornaments collected over a lifetime. Plastic mistletoe hung from the ceiling, while a foam Santa Claus kept watch from the corner, his fuzzy trim rubbed bare from seasons of use.
At the other end of the porch was a wooden picnic table. Each year after Labor Day it was brought inside to be protected from the elements, and at Christmas it was covered by a white tablecloth decorated with red poinsettias. In the middle sat an old record player, and next to that a pile of albums. Every December the record player and albums were brought out from the back of a closet in the living room. There were collections of Christmas favorites such as Jingle Bells, Rudolph, O Christmas tree, and Bing Crosby’s White Christmas. There were albums with Away in the Manger, These Three Kings, and Joy to the World, but the best record was never left on the porch. I had to ask for it.
I’m not sure when or how, but listening to the Nutcracker became one of my most beloved Christmas traditions. I would spin around the porch pretending to be a ballerina in a tutu and toe shoes, oblivious to the outside world, but I wasn’t alone. My granny thought nothing of joining me in my make believe world, and I like to believe that she enjoyed it as much as I did. She was beautiful in her red Christmas sweater, a small red velvet bow clipped into her gray curly hair. She would pluck flowers from her artificial arrangements and tuck them behind my ear, and we would dance away into worlds where no one else existed. These were worlds covered in fairy dust, sparkling with magic, and smelling faintly of cinnamon. These were worlds where everything was good and right and beautiful.
Over time, the record began to skip. I grew older, and traded in my make-believe world to search for things that were real, and the only thing I was sure of was that my juvenile fantasies were not a part of my search. I became too old for pretending to be a ballerina with Granny against the backdrop of The Nutcracker. I became too old for worlds I could only see with my mind’s eye. I drifted into an existence full of teen angst, where things were dark and dreary instead of sparkling with magic, everything seemed wrong, and life was never fair.
I didn’t know just how unfair life was until the Lord saw fit to take my Granny from this world after a lifelong struggle with Cancer. I knew she was sick, I knew she was in pain, and deep down I knew that God was being merciful. I was sixteen.
It was still years later before the heavy teenage fog would slowly begin to lift. I was able to see more clearly, and began to realize that sometimes we have to make our own joy, and that life can be dark and dreary now and then, but it is during those times when it’s okay to dance away into worlds of fairy dust, magic, and beauty.
I’m older now, a little worse for the wear, but wiser just the same. I miss my Granny – I miss her every day. As is the case with most folks, the holiday season seems to be the hardest. This is when I play The Nutcracker Suite on the phonograph and slip into a world I can only see with my mind’s eye. A World covered in fairy dust, sparkling with magic, and smelling faintly of cinnamon. This is a world where everything is good and right and beautiful. Granny is there waiting for me in her red Christmas sweater with the little velvet bow in her hair, and she is holding a flower to tuck behind my ear.
Monday, March 9, 2009
I was young when I figured out that I was different from other kids. Different in a way I still can’t put my finger on. Interested in things they weren’t. I didn’t like the music they liked, I didn’t like the clothes they liked, I didn’t like any of the things they did. I was in all the advanced classes until about eighth grade. I was bright and had high goals set for myself, I had decided that I would change the world.
My parents separated when I was about 11. The same time I was drifting farther and farther away from my peer group. I don’t blame any of my issues on my parent’s divorce. The issues are all inside me. I didn’t know how to handle being so different. Kids constantly made fun of me, and I just pushed myself away farther. I started hanging out with older kids, even though they weren’t much better. I turned inward, and found my dark side.
I had sex for the first time when I was about 12. I was spending the night with friends whose parents worked at night and we would have parties when they left. I also started smoking, drinking, and doing drugs. My thoughts and fantasies of suicide also started around this time. I cried constantly, and turned into one of those kids that only wore black and kept themselves locked in their room. My mom took me to a psychiatrist, and I was diagnosed with clinical depression, a condition I will struggle with the rest of my life. I was prescribed Prozac, which made a difference, when I took it like I was supposed to.
I was about 14 when I started cutting myself. I used razor blades, caps from ink pens, and rubbed myself raw with pencil erasers. I also hit myself. I would punch my arms and legs until they were black and blue. I fought constantly with my mom, telling her I hated her, and that I wished I were dead; I slapped her across the face one time in a crowded restaurant, a vision that haunts me to this day.
When I went to high school, things got better and worse. I started hanging out with a group that was a little bit more like me, labeled the ‘hippie’ crowd. They encouraged more positive thinking, but lots of drugs and partying. I started using hallucinogenics and pills at this time. I would go to 3 day or longer concert events and stay strung out the whole time. I drifted back and forth from that group to what would today be called the ‘emo’ group. I finally found a niche when I was about 16. These are people I am still very close to today.
Things came apart at the seams my senior year when I had a falling out with my group. I’m still not sure what happened. I went away to college for a year, and found it was no better than high school as far as the cliques went. I lost interest, my depression returned full force, and I dropped out.
I made amends with my high school group and we all moved into a house together. There were at one time seven of us in the house, different people would move in and out, but a core group of 5 of us were steady dwellers in the ‘hippie compound’. We were famous for our parties and good times. I still run into people that say “Oh! You lived in the green house! I loved partying there!” I often have no idea who they are. My mom watched all this happening and it devastated her.
My ex was living there with me, and we decided to move into our own apartment. We both got steady jobs, and I got health insurance. I started seeing a psychiatrist again, and got a new cocktail of anti-depressants. This would have been around 2000. I was still using drugs, but mostly pot and at home. I had stopped dropping acid after a particularly bad trip where I saw myself dead, and my mom screaming. One good thing that came from this was I decided I would never kill myself because I ‘saw’ what it did to my mom.
Holding a steady job and taking my meds, I started doing better. I started to see that I didn’t like where my life was going. I started becoming closer with my mom, although I still held her at arm’s length due to my drug use.
One night in October of 2001, a group of people was sitting in my living room getting high. As the joint was being passed to me and I was hitting it, I thought to myself that it was stupid, and I didn’t really want to be doing it. I quit using drugs. My life quickly changed. I began talking to my mom on a regular basis. I had a medication regimen that was working, and I adhered to it. At this point in my life, I realised what a wonderful woman my mom is.
I went to school to be an LPN in 2004. I graduated in February of 2005 in the top five. Unfortunately, I had quit my full time job to go to school and lost my health insurance. I had no meds and no psychiatrist. It would be a year before the effects of this took their toll. In the summer of 2006, I had a mental breakdown. I was having problems finding a doctor that was covered by my insurance provider. The longer I went without my medication, the harder it was to do things for myself. I went downhill fast.
One day I made an appointment with a doctor I had never seen before. Not even a psychiatrist, but a family practitioner. I was about to lose my job and myself. I had to do something. When he walked in the room, I broke down. He said, “I am not a psychiatrist. I will not prescribe you anything. Make me a promise here and now that you will leave here and go straight to the emergency room, otherwise I will call an ambulance.” I went. He saved my life.
My mom met me at the E.R. I was admitted to the psychiatric unit of the local hospital for a week. It was one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. My mom visited me every day on her lunch break. The doctors were able to stabilize me, and the social worker helped me find a psychiatrist in my network. I went back to the hospital as an outpatient 5 days a week for a month.
My new psychiatrist gave me every possible medication combination until we found one that worked. I have been stable since then. Even with everything that is going on in my life, I have found a strength that I never knew I had.
My mom is my best friend now. We talk every single day. I tell her everything. Through everything, she has always been there. She never gave up. When I was younger, I would get upset when people would say I look and sound exactly like her. Now I say “Thank you. My mother is a beautiful wonderful woman. That is a very nice compliment.”
Sunday, March 8, 2009
*My friend Elena’s birthday is tomorrow, and we celebrated yesterday with dinner at Sake, which is a Japanese steakhouse. It’s the kind of place where they prepare your meal at your table and do tricks for you. We had a good time and a good meal despite the fact that Elena’s sister was there, hung-over and bitchy. I was stuck sitting next to her. She grumbled the whole time and told us about hanging out at the strip club where she used to be a stripper. She was rude to the chef and the staff. I was glad when she had to leave early.
*I went out and saw a band at The Madison last night, as well. Be proud, I had four cocktails and drank water the rest of the time! The band was pretty good, and played music I liked. The girl I met there last time that danced with me was there again last night. We had fun dancing, and she was very impressed that I can disco. (I can disco!)
*If you read my post about being sexually harassed by an 80 year old man, then I want you to know things are better at the moment. The Assistant Director of Nursing and social worker spoke to his family. The doctor has also been consulted. I avoid him at all costs!
*I’m a little behind with reading blogs due to my work schedule. I read an entry by Natalie about there being relationships outside of blog land, and not ranting because someone might read it. Not only do I rant, but I tell some very personal information and stories from my job. Thus, you all know me as Vevay. There is only one person that I know in real life that even knows about this blog, or knows my pen name. I like to feel that I can tell anything here, and I won’t be judged. Even if you do want to judge me, which I don’t think any of you are like that, it’s not like you are going to tell it all around my town! Let it out, Nat! (Even if you have to change your name lol!)
*The weather here has been warming up. I always tell myself that if I can make it through February I will be okay. March is here, and things are looking up, even though it is raining today. Makes me think of a Beatles song entitled ‘Rain’. “If the rain comes, they run and hide their heads. They might as well be dead. When the sun shines, they slip into the shade, and sip their lemonade.” I sing it every time it rains, and force myself to walk slowly in it. We’re just never happy, are we?!
*Some things you probably don’t know about me…I’m a Beatlemaniac. I love penguins. Every time I see a dead animal on the side of the road, I cross myself (even though I’m not Catholic) and say a prayer hoping it didn’t suffer. I have two fat cats named Scout and Boo Radley. They are named after characters in my favourite book, ‘To Kill a Mockingbird.’ When Boo gets in trouble, which he usually does, I call him Mr. Arthur. I re-read Mockingbird 4 or 5 times a year. I like to drive with my windows down even when it is cold. I am trusting to a fault, and am unfortunately having to correct that. I originally started blogging to help me deal with the death of my dog and how it was related to my divorce. I LOVE jewelry, but not things like diamonds. Turquoise is my favourite. The night I kicked my husband out, I did three things, in this order: 1) I took off my wedding and engagement rings and put on a large turquoise ring so I wouldn’t have an empty spot on that finger. 2) I transferred most of the money from our joint account into my personal account so it wouldn’t all go up his nose. 3) I went to my mom’s.
Monday, March 2, 2009
1) Beautiful music with meaningful lyrics. This is one of my favourites, by The Eagles. The lines are from ‘Seven Bridges Road’.
Now I have loved you like a baby
Like some lonesome child
And I have loved you in a tame way
And I have loved you wild
2) Open smiles and twinkling eyes, looking like they hold a secret.
3) Albums. As in vinyl and turntables.
4) Dancing in the living room all night with my best friend. Listening to albums!
5) The wonderful pedicure I got today!
6) Being happy for a friend who has been home for 3 months after living out of state for the past 9 years.
7) Sunshine! Had some today. Even though it was cold, I had my window down as I drove down the highway.
8) Reading blogs that make me feel like we’re all having the same kind of thoughts that day. Sometimes it’s eerie! Or maybe it’s just me.
9) The girls who work midnights. They are always trying to feed me. Even if It’s sharing their sandwich. Sometimes it’s very interesting. One night Tonya offered me a dish that included Ramen Noodles, chili and steak. I politely declined.
10) Being able to pick up double shifts! I know I say this all the time, but the economy is horrible, and so is finding and keeping a job. I’m thankful to have one!
Sunday, March 1, 2009
Some think that with the addition of computers and mobile phones it is easier than ever to communicate with the rest of the world. My personal thought on the matter is that our society is experiencing a communication breakdown.
I’ve said it many times before, all connotation and intonation is lost in text. Things quickly become twisted when you are unable to hear the other person’s voice. You are left wondering exactly what it was they meant by that comment. Was it anger or sadness? Were they being sarcastic or callous? Running through these options in your head is tiring and frustrating.
I understand that there’s not always time in our busy lives for a phone call. It’s awesome to get a text message from someone in the middle of the day when they just want to say hi, or they love you, whatever. It shows someone is thinking about you. It’s great to get a joke. It’s convenient to remind someone to pick up milk on their way home or that the party starts at eight.
Please don’t try to tell me anything deeper or more important in a text, instant message, or e-mail. Even a hand written letter is better. Ideally, I would like to talk in person so I can see your facial expressions and body language. At least call me so I can hear the inflection in your voice.
Writing lol, jp/jk, : ) or ; ) are not substitutes for laughing, joking, smiling or winking. I stand helplessly by as civilization forgets how to communicate. *SMH*.
Plastic hot against my ear.
Imagining that you are near.
Though there is no one
Late night phone calls-
The hours slip past.
Your voice grows husky
In a darkness so vast.
Lying in my bed-
The words you have said.
Late nights alone,
I hold your words tight.
The words you spoke
That kept me awake
all those nights.
Lying in the dark,
I wait for the call
To hear you tell me
That you did mean it all.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
1) Buying kettle cooked salt and vinegar potato chips and not having to care if anyone else in the house likes them.
2) Sleeping in on days when I can hear the rain on my roof.
3) Fat cats curled up around me.
4) Re-reading my dog-eared, torn, faded, crumbling, high school copy of ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’ and savouring every word!
5) Time to do something with, time to do nothing with.
6) People who are honest and don’t play games.
7) Having enough money that I can donate some. (I gave up the new makeup, but am not giving up the pedi!)
8) Beautiful blogs brimming with brilliant thoughts.
10) Me! I rock! You! You rock, too!
Things I don’t like – or – Boo! That sucks!
1) Not having closure.
2) People who lie, cheat, steal, or use others.
3) Books that don’t wrap up well at the end.
4) Animal abuse. (I agree with you Natalie!)
5) Being sooo tired from working that you can’t do anything on your day off!
His name was Jim. Vincent James Englehart was his name, to be correct. I was a new nurse. He scared everyone else out of his room. Nurses that had been there for thirty days or thirty years; I was accused of turning him against nurses who had been there far longer than I had. Maybe I was new enough to understand him, or maybe I just didn’t know any better. For better or for worse, Jim and I became fast friends. All I did was listen to what he said.
Jim was blind due to an abdominal aortic aneurysm and the sub sequential blood loss. I quickly learned that the key was letting Jim talk you through everything. He had three ostomies , which was any nurse’s nightmare. Worse yet, they always came off, resulting in his ostomy plates and bags having to be changed multiple times throughout the shift. A sheer nightmare when you have twenty-five patients to care for! Miraculously, Jim’s bags rarely fell off after I had put them on and while I was on shift!
Jim and I enjoyed watching Hannity and Colmes together. Rather, Jim enjoyed listening to the program and I enjoyed spending time with Jim. It didn’t matter if we agreed on political stances; it was merely background noise for us. He told me about his family, his favourite memories, and told me about his wife, Jackie. I told him about my life and family, probably more than what is considered professional. Jim loved to tell dirty jokes, but I soon found that I was not privy to them. Jim and I had a special saying: Vaya Con Dios. Jim told me it means 'Go with God'. We reserved it for our use only, like a little secret between friends.
Even as Jim’s nurse, I was not allowed in his room while he was using the urinal, and he didn’t want me to treat his male parts. When he had a particularly bad yeast infection, he eventually allowed me to treat it and finally decided that only I had the cure. Still, though, Jim treated me more like a daughter than his nurse.
Somehow, I hurt my back right before I was scheduled to go on vacation. I was off for several weeks and went on the vacation. On the return trip, Stacy, one of my nursing assistants, called to tell me that Jim had passed. I was silent for the remaining 6-hour drive home. My then husband didn't understand. At first I felt as though it was wrong of me to not have been there for him at the end, but came to realise it was probably better that way. In nursing, they say you should not become emotionally attached to your patients. My personal opinion is that if you do not become emotionally attached on some level, then you are not doing your job right.
I still miss Jim, and think of him often. He taught me more about nursing than fifty textbooks. He taught me about life, love, and friendship. He taught me the importance of listening and understanding. He has been gone now for almost three years. Vaya Con Dios, my friend.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Whenever I tell a man that I am a nurse, I can see the wheels in his head start to turn. They’re just sure that I wear a vinyl outfit, thigh high stockings with a garter, and boots to my knees. I don’t. I don’t look sexy at all while I’m at work. I have on white pants, a scrub top, tennis shoes, and my hair is pulled up. My make-up is usually a mess, and I am often covered in Nutren Glytrol (a nutritional supplement) chlorophyll (a nasty little pill that turns everything green) and whatever explodes on me that day.
This is why I just can’t understand William’s fascination with me. It started out with harmless flirting, which I was able to keep under control with ‘the look’. Then he started asking me to get in bed with him, keep him warm, telling me I’d have more fun in his bed, etc. This was met with “That is NOT appropriate!” He would back off and tell me he was only kidding. The next thing was he started touching me. If I were standing next to his chair, he would touch the back of my knee. He actually grabbed my ass in front of the whole dining room one day. I would tell him to stop touching me, and he would just laugh. Things just kept getting worse. One night I was fed up and told him, “William you are a dirty old man!” His reply? “Well you’re a dirty young lady and I like that.”
One night I went in his room to administer his evening medication. This man who could barely walk jumped up and backed me in a corner. He did an open palm full feel up, front and back, including squeezing my breasts. I was able to get out, he actually chased me! (At that point, I was actually worried about where his walker was!) I no longer go into his room without someone with me. I mean, I could take him, but I really don’t want to knock out an 80-year-old man!
About 2 weeks ago, I was doing the evening med pass, and was outside a room 3 doors down from his. He had just returned from his bath. I looked up to see him walking toward me (Where the hell was his walker?) wearing his bathrobe. The robe was open. There was nothing on underneath it. He had an erection. All my aides were in rooms with people. I was alone in the hallway with him. I got him turned around, and headed back to his room. “William! What is it that you need!” He told me, “I need you. I need you to take care of this problem.” (Indicating his erection) I deposited him outside the door to his room. Literally, 2 minutes later an aide entered his room and found him masturbating. I was sick.
I can handle a lot. This was way too much.
Tonight I was preparing his bedtime medication outside his door. He came out and asked when I would be bringing it to him. I told him it would be just a minute, that I was getting it ready. I went in, and had one of my aides with me. He called out for me to close the door – he didn’t know the aide was there. I walked in to find him watching PORNOGRAPHY with his hand down his pants. He said “I wanted you to see this…” looked up, saw the aide, removed his hand and fumbled with the remote. I left his meds on the table.
I'm really starting to get uncomfortable with the whole situation. He doesn't do this to anyone else. I'm very firm with him that his behaviour is inappropriate. I'm just about at the end of my rope. I have considered asking to switch assignments, but that wouldn't be fair to my other 24 patients who are actually pissed when I even take a day off.
This is just a sampling. I go through this crap every time I work. I’ve reported every incident to the social worker. She has been keeping notes. I am very reluctant to make a fuss – he has a lovely wife and children. He and his wife just celebrated 60 years. The wife would probably blame me, and there would be a scene. I don’t want that. I have considered that some of his medications could be adding to the problem, and will be discussing that with his doctor. I’d like to tell his wife to take him home for a conjugal, but there again…
I’ve decided that if messy hair and make-up combined with a stained sticky uniform is sexy, I need to write Cosmo. They’ve been giving the wrong advice for years!
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
I met a pretty cool guy last Sunday. He works out of town, and left for Orlando Monday morning. His house burned down yesterday. I’m sad for him, but grateful for my home.
I hit the daily at The Orioles! Not a lot of money, about four hundred, enough for groceries and bills. I will make it be enough for a pedicure and some good make up! (You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need!...Thanks Mick!)
I turned my paperwork for the bankruptcy in to the lawyer today. Yeah!
Why is it that loneliness creeps up so unexpectedly? You think you have a handle on things, but it sneaks in like a cat burglar in the night stealing away with your soul.
My friend Allie called to tell me about all the men she is using and how much they love her for it. SERIOUSLY, MEN! WTF?! BOO YOU SUCK! (I’m sure not all of you do.)
I’m thinking about going back to school. I’m an LPN now, it would be easy for me to be an RN, but I always saw myself doing something a little more holistic. (Actually, I saw myself touring with The Grateful Dead selling hemp jewelry, but that didn’t work out very well for me)
I’ll be thirty on April 7th. Not concerned about the number, but it’s a milestone. Am I going to be alone?
I’ll be thirty on April 7th. Yes, it’s the number! I’m quickly running out of time to be in my twenties and be a ‘younger woman’! LOL!
I’m learning the differences between friends and acquaintances. Seems I have many more acquaintances than friends. My mom says it’s because I’m growing and maturing. Me: “But I don’t want to grow and mature mum!”
I had nightmares about my ex last night. Stay out of my peaceful sleep time!
My friend Stacy brought extra lunch for me at work today. Plus she worked a HUGE knot out of my neck. She’s awesome, but I can’t understand why she treats me so well. I mean, I treat her well and appreciate everything she does, but she takes care of me.
VERNAL EQUINOX! MARCH 20th! Need I say more? :)
Wondering about a friend’s autistic nephew who recently moved out on his own…How is he doing with that?
Back to the grind for the next few days, so my writing, reading, and commenting will be a little slow.
I’m sooo thankful to have a job!
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Now…I’m declaring bankruptcy. I cannot and will not pay his debts. Unfortunately, the majority of bills, loans, and credit cards are in my name. A good credit score is something you have to work hard for. I hate to see it go down the drain, but it’s either my credit or me! Credit can be rebuilt.
My lawyer recommended I do the bankruptcy before the divorce so there will be less to fight over. Even though I paid the lawyer in full last August, I have put off turning in the paperwork. Day in and day out, I would tell myself to finish putting the paperwork together so I could get on with things.
Maybe I thought it would all disappear. The debt and my husband. They didn’t. Maybe I thought that if I didn’t recognize the bankruptcy and the divorce they wouldn’t be real. They are. As long as I put off filing for bankruptcy, I have a reason to put off filing for divorce.
Don’t get me wrong here – I don’t want my ex back, and I am done trying to save the marriage. I spent many months in shame. I was ashamed that I couldn’t dig myself out of debt, and ashamed that I couldn’t save my marriage. I felt like these things indicated a flaw in me as a person. It took a long time to figure out that instead of being ashamed, I should be proud for standing up for myself.
Today I finished putting together the paperwork for my bankruptcy. Tomorrow I will drop it off at my lawyer’s office on my way to work. In a way, it’s my first step toward the divorce…and freedom!
Monday, February 23, 2009
My stepmom Carla, my stepsister, Sheila, and my niece Becky all carry ‘Vera Bradley’ purses. If you don’t know what that is, I don’t know if I can help you. They’re all types of purses and bags that come in different patterns and the patterns are then ‘retired’, making them more valuable. (I guess) They’re cute purses, but I’m partial to mine.
The purse I carry came from a garage sale when I was in the eighth grade. It is handmade, probably from the late sixties or early seventies. It’s the only one I’ve carried for many years. It’s all leather and has served me well, considering the abuse it takes.
When I go over to my dad’s house, the girls compare their new Vera Bradley’s. “oooooh! They have placemats in that design, too!” They will LITERALLY move all their purses to a pile away from mine. It started as a joke, but after a while, it started to get to me. My purse isn’t good enough to be next to theirs. Does that mean they think I’m not good enough, either?
Two Christmases ago, my dad and Carla gave me a gift certificate to Jungle Jim’s for Christmas. Jungle Jim’s is a sort of ethnic market, selling mostly different foods. They happen to have a Vera Bradley shop there as well. I finally remembered the gift card the other day, and decided to use it. I went with the sole purpose of getting a Vera Bradley.
The designs and colours are beautiful. I looked at them for a good 40 minutes before making a decision. As I held the purse in my hands, I could feel it had no soul like mine does. (Does that make sense?) I pictured myself carrying it. The compliments I would get. I could hear people saying “Ooooh! A Vera Bradley!” and “I love that pattern!” Then I heard someone say, “Look! I have the exact same one!” My next vision was of me chucking it in the nearest dumpster.
I put the purse back on the shelf. I could tell the sales lady was genuinely shocked I decided not to get it, and I’m sure she was tsk-tsking me in her mind. I used the gift certificate to treat myself to cold medicine, vitamins, and organic tea instead. At least I won’t chuck those in the dumpster!
After I kicked my ex out, I started drinking. Daily. Heavily. A fifth of Jack in a sitting, easily. I got so used to it that I quit getting sick, and I quit getting hangovers. I also quit feeling. It was the only way I knew how to defend myself.
I filled my spare time with a parade of men, bars, parties, and wild nights. Some of the things I did were nothing less than shameful. Many of those things I did hoping my ex would find out about them and be hurt or jealous. There were times that I brought men home with me just because they were his ‘friends’. I started hanging out at ‘his’ bar. I made sure everyone there knew how much fun I was to party with, and what a great person I am. Problem is that it was fake me. I couldn’t even remember who real me was.
November and December were probably my worst months for partying. Things were spiraling out of control, and I was losing more of myself with every drink, every wild night, every man that I brought home. I knew something had to change, but I wasn’t sure how to do it. Even though I was drinking less often by this time, 2 or 3 times a week, the nights I did drink, I made up for lost time.
At the beginning of January, things changed quickly because of someone I met. It’s a long, sordid story. I’m not done examining the situation and my role in it and the story is not completely mine to tell. For now, I will save it. I let all my male ‘companions’ go, and stopped participating in certain social activities. Something good came of the whole situation: I slowed down enough for long enough to examine what I was doing.
My drinking slowed down to twice a week, now once. While I still meet men when I go out, I don’t go out for that purpose, and I don’t bring them home with me. I woke up still drunk this morning (okay, that was twice this week) and something told me I have to STOP this self-destructive behavior. I wrote a post last week entitled As of Today. One of the things I want to do is rediscover myself. I don’t think that’s going to happen while staring down a bottle of Jack Daniels.
I’m not going to say that I will NEVER drink again. It’s only Monday. I do, however need to find something more constructive and empowering to do with my time. There’s not much to do in this small town unless I want to sit home by myself. Everyone wants to drink. Because of my work schedule, I’m a night person. That doesn’t give me much time for things like walking in the park. After dark, it feels like all there is out there is partying. I know that’s not true. I know I’m laying blame and rationalizing. I’m good at that.
For now, I’ll set my goal as not drinking for the rest of the week. The hard part won’t come until Saturday, but I have between now and then to come up with something constructive to do. I know that doesn’t even sound good from where you’re reading, but it’s a step for me.
I would also like to add that some of this realization came about from reading and pondering some of the blogs here. Everyone is an inspiration, and I just wish you were all a little closer!
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Mr. Wink was texting me which thrilled my mom. My stepdad, well not so much. Mom wanted to call Mr. Wink and see if he could tell us apart. I have been making an effort to restrict my drunk dialing/texting, and restrained myself from calling. A little blurb about Mr. Wink. If you haven’t ‘met’ him yet, you can find a little background info at my entry ‘Valentine’s Day Wasn’t So Bad After All’ (http://saladsandwich.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day-wasnt-so-bad-after-all.html) Mr. Wink meets all my criteria in a man. I’m not picky.
1) He has a job. A very good job as a matter of fact.
2) He has a vehicle.
3) He has a license to drive said vehicle.
4) He has teeth.
Beyond that, he is nice, is a good conversationalist, and seems to really like me. It doesn’t hurt that he has a Harley, a boat, and likes to take vacations. He has also managed to keep himself out of any real trouble. Hard to believe considering his past. (Did I mention he played classic rock trivia with me? He likes classic rock, too!)
On the downside, he is a workaholic. He actually works out of town, and is living in Chicago right now for work. Not too terribly far, and he did allude to inviting me to come visit him sometime. He is 42, which doesn’t bother me too much. I would always be the younger woman! Having said that, he is mature and pretty settled. Good and bad. He has 2 kids and doesn’t want any more. You may be thinking to yourself, “I hope you’re not planning to run off and marry him tomorrow!” I’m not. Those are just things that I think about.
He appeared in my life and said and did all the right things. Unfortunately, that scares me a little right now. I’ve recently been put through the wringer with that situation. Some guy swoops in, makes you think he is superman, but you find out he’s really just a joker. I was really really upset about that particular situation in the beginning, but it was my fault for believing it all. I’m not too upset anymore, just hurt. He’s been out of the loop, to say the least, for the last nine years. I don’t think he knows how to deal with emotions or people any more. I am just one of the casualties.
That brings me to my big life question of the moment: How much damage can a person’s faith in humanity take before there is nothing left for the people who deserve that faith? It’s certainly not fair for someone who really is trustworthy and honest to be met with skepticism and mistrust from the beginning. They almost don’t have a fighting chance. I’ve heard that trust has to be earned, but I would like to think that trust is given and mistrust is earned. I don’t know which is harder. Trusting people or not trusting them.
I’ll stop the rambling now.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
As of today…
1) I no longer give anyone permission to make me feel bad about myself.
2) I will no longer allow anyone to use me just to make themselves feel better.
3) I will recognize my own self worth.
4) I take charge of my future.
5) I will not let anyone else tell me how to run my life.
6) I don’t want anyone in my life that doesn’t want me in theirs.
7) I will rediscover myself.
8) I will decide what is right for me, and I will do what I decide is right.
9) I will find inspiration everywhere.
10) I will be grateful.
11) I will give love freely to those who handle it with care.
Monday, February 16, 2009
I told my mom about meeting Mr. Wink. She never ceases to amaze me. I thought he was joking when he told me that she kept telling him he needed to talk to me, but she verified that she had in fact told him that! I don’t see any kind of romantic relationship with him, for several reasons, but it’s nice to know you’re still marketable. The ups and downs of dating can leave a girl feeling pretty bad sometimes. By the way, Mr. Shut Up kinda tried to apologize…I think. I wish I knew. It’s hard telling with him.
I mentioned Mr. Wink being a good conversationalist. He told me about his last two relationships. It made a lot of sense when he explained it, and I wish I could remember his exact words. It was very deep. He said the first one loved him too much, and he loved the second one too much. He wasn’t talking about being ‘smothered’ or ‘smothering’, though. I didn’t know it was possible to love too much, but as I said, it made sense when he told it.
Can two people ever love each other equally? Is it possible for one person to have too much love to give? What happens when it can’t get out? (I imagine a person just exploding and pink glittery hearts flying everywhere lol!) Love comes in so many different forms; it’s hard to know what to do with all of it.
Personally, I have love for my family and friends. I have love for my pets, for nature, for music. What do I do with the rest of it? The love I have to share with a man? The love I have to share with children of my own? How and where do you store that until the time is right? Can I get a lock box at the bank to put it in?
I don’t want this to come off sounding frightening like I’m just ready to marry the first guy that comes along. Most of my readers are women, so I figure they will understand better. Words like ‘love’ and thoughts like ‘having children’ scare most men. I can’t help it. I’m girlie that way. I think pink thoughts of love and make-up!
She loves to cook, especially soups. Today we had vegetable soup and homemade corn muffins. We talk about events that have transpired over the last month, the books we have read, and the English Language. That is something we both have a passion for, and she is one of the few people that I can discuss proper punctuation and grammar with and not sound hoity toity! Mine is never perfect, but I think it is interesting to learn about.
I told her today that I had recently taken up painting again. She laughed and said that she had something I had painted in fifth grade and gave to her. Would I like to see it? She went to the attic and returned with a box. On top of the box was the painting, a picture of a house that said ‘Home Sweet Home’ across the top. Not very good, but I was only in fifth grade!
The real surprise came when she opened the box. She had kept copies of all the plays and short stories I had written all those years ago along with all the trinkets I had given her. Most of the plays I had written were based on whatever lesson we were working on. There was one about The Boston Tea Party, one about Eli Whitney, one about the Oregon Trail, and several others. My writing in that time was not quite as evolved as it is today, and I was a little embarrassed. We both had a good laugh though, and reminisced for the remainder of our visit.
Our visit also included an invitation to join her at church. I have nothing against ANY religion or belief. (As long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else) I personally consider myself Christian, but don’t believe in the church institution. I have had many bad (and some good) experiences with church in the past, and I prefer to do things my own way, the way I feel is right. I was able to politely decline, but she frequently invites me and I don’t know how much longer I can put it off! She is an older lady, and would be completely shattered if I told her that I just don’t do the church thing. Any advice on this matter is welcome. Maybe an outside opinion would help!
I am truly grateful for this friendship.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Valentine’s Day turned out not to be a total loss, after all. In fact, it turned out pretty well.
My first stop of the evening was the Orioles for the ten-dollar book drawing. For those of you who don’t know, the Orioles is a club similar to the Moose or the Elks. For those of you in other parts of the world, I don’t really know what to compare it to. It’s a bar that you have to have a key card to get into, and drinks are a little cheaper. Anyway, as I was en route to the Orioles, a girlfriend called and asked if I wanted to go out. I had planned to just go home, but I was looking pretty damn hot and felt it would be a shame to waste all that sexiness on myself! I told her I would call when I left the club. I didn’t win the book (boo) and called my friend. We decided to meet up at the Madison Inn.
When I got to the Madison, I went in and grabbed a seat at the bar. They were playing some horrible booty shaking music, and I nearly left. Fortunately, the band was getting ready to start, so I decided to stick around. (I’m picky about music in bars…I’ll tell that story in another post.) I’m glad I did, they were good, and played music I liked.
I am a magnet for old men at bars. Last night was no exception. He walked straight in and sat next to me when I was surrounded by empty bar stools. It was clear that he was already drunk. His breath smelled strangely fruity and I considered asking if he was diabetic, because it smelled like Ketoacidosis. I decided not to diagnose at the bar and excused myself to the bathroom.
I love to dance – it’s a very sexual thing. Usually I look around for someone standing by the bar looking like they are dying to get on the dance floor and drag them out there. I guess I was the person eyeing the dance floor last night because someone pulled me out there. We danced a couple songs, the oldest man in the place got up and tried to do some crazy grinding thing with me so I shimmied my way to the other side of the dance floor. On my way back to my drink, I noticed a handsome more in my age range guy checking me out. He winked. I smiled.
I was feeling pretty good, and was proud of myself as I was alternating ice water with my Jack. At that point the guy I had hoped to be with that night called. Quite frankly, he was a dick. I ran outside when he called so I could hear. Wherever he was the music was loud as well, and the call was really breaking up. Something about he was going to come over. Crackle crackle. I said I thought he wasn’t driving. Shut up shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP!!! Surely, he wasn’t saying that to me. He was. I hung up. I texted him twice last night and once today. I haven’t heard from him. Granted I’m not the brightest star in the sky, but I’m smart enough to know that I am too good of a person for someone to treat me that way. In his defense, I know in my heart he is not bad. He has things going on in his life none of us could fathom.
Back to the good part! I went back in and sat down. The band was on break. Mr. Wink was talking to two girls at the end of the bar. Actually, they were talking to him. He didn’t look very interested. They went to the dance floor and I walked over to him under the guise of getting the bartender’s attention. I asked which one of the girls would be mad if I talked to him. He said neither, he didn’t even know them . He asked me to sit down, and asked, “What is your name?” in a tone that I know all too well. I told him. I said my mom’s name immediately after, and he said “I knew it!” My mom and I are like the Bobsy Twins. We look alike, gesture alike, and sound alike. We sound so much alike that when we are together our nickname is ‘Sandy in Stereo’. (Sandy is my mom) It turns out that Mr. Wink and I had actually met several times before. He’s one of my mom’s best friend’s nephew.
The Madison started a new thing where they stay open after the bar closes and serve breakfast. Mr. Wink and I talked for hours. He was a perfect gentleman. No funny business. He’s the kind of guy that lights a girl’s cigarette. I’m a sucker for that crap. The conversation was great. That’s really what I wanted. An intelligent human being to conversate with. Not only was he intelligent, he was observant. He had noticed when I got the phone call and went outside. He also noticed that I was not happy when I came back. I just said it was a long story, and it is.
In case you’re wondering, my girlfriend stood me up. At least, I hope she did. I would rather that she stood me up than had something bad happen.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
1)I got a valentine from my Papa who lives far away.
2)My friends Michael and Mason both called to wish me happy Valentine’s Day.
3) My friend and co-worker Stacy brought in extra lunch for me at work twice this week.
4)I found out today that a friend’s autistic nephew was able to move to a home where he would be living semi ‘on his own.’
5)I did get asked on 3 Valentine’s Day dates, that was nice, but I turned them down for personal reasons.
6)My cats Scout and Boo Radley said they would be my valentines. (If you are not a cat person, just forget you read this one.)
7)I convinced a male co-worker to get a little something for his wife on Valentine’s Day, and heard through the grapevine today that she was moved to tears as he had not done this in at least 20 years!
8) I’ve found out that there are actually people who read my blog, and they leave very kind comments. This makes me feel really good!
9)I was able to work several doubles last week. I’m grateful to have a good job.
10) While working a double last week, I woke a patient up to give her morning meds. When she opened her eyes she said she was very lucky because I was the last person she saw before she fell asleep and the first person she saw when she woke up. This was sincere, and it made my extra effort worth while.
Turns out that this woman who I have never met or spoken to, and who lives a world away, knows me better than I thought.
I was turning those words over in my mind while lying in bed this morning, and it dawned on me that I am grieving the loss of my dream! Not my husband, but the dream of forever, the dream of having children and raising them with a man I love, the dream of growing old together and experiencing the triumphs, pit falls, and joys of life with my one and only. In my dream, there is someone to listen to and support me, just as I do for them; someone to kiss in the rain, and make love to under the stars. These are all things I still believe in. He didn’t take that away from me.
Lisa, it is a true gift to be able to give words to someone that make them realize something about themselves they didn’t know. Thank You!