Walk on the Wild Side

I just ate an expired pickle.  It expired in November of last year, but was in an unopened glass container that had been refrigerated.  I didn't think pickles expired?  I thought that pickling was another word for preserving.  If I die suddenly and soon of unknown causes, remember the pickle.  I feel so daring!

I don't walk on the wild side often, but I do know how to.  For me, mixing things up and getting crazy usually involves something like adding a tomato to my Caesar salad.  In the way of emotional outbursts, I don't remember the last time I had one.  I like being in control of emotions.  That is something I was not aware of until I moved down South.  I have been called "cold" and "snob" and multiple people have told me "you hide things better than anyone I know" (in regards to emotional issues at work).  I don't understand bringing emotional baggage to work and I don't understand getting emotionally involved with patients who you do not know and have never seen before they rolled in on a stretcher 10 minutes earlier.  Sure things are sad and difficult, but bring your game face to work.  For some reason I equate loss of emotional control with loss of sense.  How are you going to make rational decisions and do complicated medication dosing calculations if you are boo-hooing?  For the PA student that burst into tears and ran from the trauma room when we were trying to intubate the 10-year old boy who had had the swimming accident, could you have done anything more dramatic or less helpful? 

Actually, I do remember the last time I felt I had an emotional outburst, and ironically enough, it was at work.  It was a crazy New Year's eve, the ER was crowded with police, patients, nurses, doctors, security guards, state troopers, respiratory therapists and techs.  We were running around like we normally do and I saw that I had a missed call from home.  It was almost New Year's eve, so I quickly called home to see what was up.  "Honey, grandma died" were the words that I heard.  I ran to the break room and locked myself into the bathroom while my parents calmed me down.  Not completely unexpected, her death did and still feels untimely.  I still feel so guilty that I wasn't there.  After we hung up, I called the charge nurse and told him I just needed a few minutes.  The secretary came to check on me, I put my face back together, and a few minutes later went back to work.  Those were the only people that knew anything was wrong.  I was so glad I could wrap up my grief and put it away.  It might not be the best way to deal with things, but that night there were more important things to worry about, like performing open cardiac massage for the first time in a man who's life was slipping away faster than we could catch it, than my own grief. 

Maybe I am a snot and cold-hearted, but to me in my line of work, it is a disservice to everyone around you, mostly the patient, when you let emotions and other stuff get in the way.  Your boyfriend dumped you?  What does that have to do with anything we are trying to do here and now? Remember, this blog is coming from the girl who cries every time she watches Father of the Bride or goes into an animal shelter.  I thought I was a bit on the dramatic side when I moved here, but in comparison to people in the South, I have the emotional wingspan of a miller moth. 

I think I am ok with that.

J'aime dormir

I slept through the Super Bowl.  I heard Green Bay won...cool.  If the Broncos are not playing then I don't care.  Or the Colts. 

One of the after-effects of being sick that is a benefit in my line of work is the decreased ability to smell.  I didn't dry heave once last night.  Maybe the ER gods felt sorry for me since the last time I was at work I had the world's stinkiest patients. 

This morning after work I unwound by taking a bubble bath and having a glass of the most amazing homemade Kahlua and soy milk on the rocks, then I slept so hard I woke up a couple times not knowing where I was.  I really, really appreciate that I am able to do stuff like this right now.  When lots of nurses are going home to families, getting kids off to school, having to do housework, grocery shop, and do everything else that being a working mother entails, I am pretty elated that I get to come home to peace and quiet and undisturbed sleep.  Oh sleep, how I adore you. 

Speaking of sleep...I may just give it another go here.

Sweet dreams.

Slightly burnt

I am baking.  It has been raining for days, and that kind of weather always puts me in the mood to bake.  I am baking some ginger snaps to take to work.  I think I did something just a little off, however, I kept messing up the amounts and then the cookies are not 'cracking' apart on top when they are done, so my first batch is a little on the burnt side.  Oh well, they still taste good. 

Sometimes I feel like life is passing me by and I am just a spectator, but when that happens I just need to take a deep breath and enjoy where and what I am right now.  So much happens around this age, college graduation, moving, jobs, love, marriage, beginning of families, careers, that when you see friends and family going through these changes, you wonder when life will begin for you. I think it is important to remember that the every-day is important too, and that is something I struggle with.  Listening to Van Morrison while baking on a rainy Saturday morning before trying to go back to sleep before the night shift isn't epic, but moments like this make up more time in my life than the HUGE events, and probably have more of an impact on who I am as well.  I love baking.  I love my apartment.  I love peace and quiet.  Such big deals are made out of life's milestones, but those can be few and far between. It is a work in progress for me to learn to appreciate the every-day as well.

                                                                    

To be a ballerina...

I watched a documentary on Russian ballerinas yesterday.  I love ballerinas.  I made a list of pros and cons to being a ballerina.

PROS: Tutus, sparkly costumes, feather headbands, lots of pink, excellent posture, adoring fans, no boobs, stage makeup, you dance for a living, seeing muscular men in tights is part of the job, all your clothing is elastic

CONS: Too skinny, walk duck-footed, no boobs, if you don't start by age 3 your chances of making it big decrease exponentially, not much time for other things, someone always trying to get your job, high stress, career over by 40

Obviously there are more pros than cons.  I think I missed my calling, if only I had been born with a different body type and an ounce of grace.  And in Russia.  Hmmmm, I think I will take my slightly endomorphic/mesomorphic physique. And Western up-bringing.  But I still wish there were more dancing, costumes and glitter in nursing.  There is the elastic clothing though, we do have that in common.

Shouldn't have Googled that rabbit, now I am going to have nightmares

     Old scary stories that actually have a story line in them are my favorite.  None of this Texas Chainsaw Project or Blair Witch Massacre, I like the scary movies and stories that make you think and don't just try to gross you out.  I remember when I went to see The Sixth Sense in the theater.  I was about 13 and my friend and I just sat there crying and holding on to each other.  I still think that is one of the scariest movies of all time.  Also the rabbit in Donnie Darko freaks me out.  I watched that a few years ago at a friend's house and had to drive home in the dark and get out and open the gate...I was sure that psycho rabbit was going to come bounding out of the bushes and attack me.  Or just stare at me.  Either would be horrifying.  Anyways, back to good scary tales.  I really enjoyed The Others, with Nicole Kidman, and The Orphanage, which was a foreign film I think from Spain??  Both really well done. Early this morning I watched Dorian Gray, based on the story The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde.  It was fascinating, I want to read to story now.  I also enjoyed The Telltale Heart by Edgar Allen Poe, The Turn of the Screw, by Henry James I think, and even Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier was a bit creepy and Wuthering Heights' Cathy was haunting.  Sometimes a good scary tale is just what is needed, especially to balance out Valentine's Day which is coming up.  I also like scary movies at Christmas.
Just try to tell me this isn't scary...

    So, to change gears, the bridesmaid dress didn't fit.  Banana, if you are reading this and I haven't talked to you yet, well, it didn't work.  In theory the dress looked great on the 6' model and the ruffle around the collar was striking, but on me it looked like something about to swallow my head or like I belonged in a circus wearing that with a mustache or something.  So...back to the drawing board.  I know you want to keep things neutral, but what about this one?  I wouldn't have to worry about losing any weight before your big day and it would be a good icebreaker for all those family friends we will be seeing that we haven't seen since we got our permanent teeth.

 Just a suggestion....

Update on the Battle Front

     I have declared war against the bug.  Thera-flu, Kleenex, Gatorade/water, Vick's VapoRub, chapstick and ibuprofen have joined forces with me and soon we are expecting the key in the victory to end all battles: Azithromycin aka The Z-pack.  My floor looks like a forest of crumpled up tissue has sprouted up because when I am finished blowing my nose I throw the tissue overboard.  My bed is my ship, and I haven't been out of it more than 30 minutes since early Sunday morning (I did shower).  I am part-way through Harry Potter #4 for the umpteenth time on audio and have my laptop handy to keep my inbox clear of all the start-of-the-new-month bills.  For the record, if my nose does fall off like I think it is going to mid-blow here soon, I would like a replacement that looks just like my Grandma June's.  On the bright side of things, I have had time to look up stuff I normally wouldn't...like gigs in Venice...and I have fallen deeply in love with Carolina Herrerra's new Spring line.  I have also watched the entire 15th cycle of America's Next Top Model  (yay Ann!) and am at the point where I am going to need an intervention from the show Intervention.  I am officially ready to feel better, and yes that includes breathing out of my nose again.  I was ready two days ago and patience is not a strong virtue of mine.  Here's hoping that tomorrow I feel like a new person.

FYI, in case you were wondering just how fabulous Carolina Herrera's Spring '11 line is, take a peek here:
http://carolinaherrera.com/content.php?l=en

I already chose this one for the Academy Awards...her Tabea gown...(sigh), from her Resort '11 collection

love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love love

Not plausible...but semi-possible

     This morning I had to ask myself, what is keeping you from selling everything and moving to Italy and renting an apartment the size of a cupboard and working a menial job in a coffee shop or better yet, a fashion house?  It was a wonderful half-second of possibility, then the logical side of myself answered: "First, you have car payments and student loan payments.  You don't speak Italian.  You don't know anything about sewing or business, and you definitely don't know how to run an espresso machine.  You would have no health insurance. Your income would be minimum wage. You talk to you parents at least once a day and phone calls home would be bi-monthly at best.  You feel lonely surrounded by people who speak English, imagine if you were surrounded by people who did not.  You are gullible and believe anything people tell you (I am getting better at the gullible thing...now I definitely KNOW there is NO such thing as blinker fluid for my car) and if you believed a nice man asked you out to dinner, he would probably actually be kidnapping you and selling into the underground sex-slave business.  Shall I continue?  Nope.  Thanks for that flash back to reality.  The problem is I would hate to one day end up wishing I would have done stuff like this when I was younger.  I can hear the conversation between me and my future kid now:
Child: "I want to travel the world!"
Me: "Son, I know how you feel, I always have wanted to too."
Child: "Then why didn't you?"
Me: "Mainly the debilitating fear that the lack of health insurance in an emergency would cause me crippling financial ruin for the rest of my life."
Child: "Oh. Ok.  Can I go outside and play?"

Living in fear is no way to live, but neither is living in crippling financial ruin.  I guess the trick is to be smart about it and balance the two.  Now if only I knew how to begin doing that....

PS - FYI, I just googled jobs in Venice, Italy and on craigslist, under 'gigs' sub-category 'talent', this is what I found:

Bachelor party right after the New Year,
I need a few female Dancers to entertain us,
the Wilder the better. Great pay for great talent.
Email me with reusme and at least 2 pictures featuring your assets for consideration.
If liked you will recieve more information.
Location: Venice

Awesome.  Something classy for the young professional.  After reading this being sold into the sex-slave trade seems more like a realistic possibility than ever.  I did enjoy the wording of the ad, however even if the spelling and grammar were pathetic.  Ha.