Thursday, November 12, 2009


I somehow had this crazy delusion that as soon as I graduated I'd be working 3 days a week and have all this time on my hands to, you know, not be in freak out panic mode like I have been the last 4 or so years.

Right now I have shots, jobs, resumes, babies, anniversaries, weddings, money, puppies, friendships, and student loans swimming through my head.

But they're all good things. Minus the job search and student loan parts.

But there's gotta be some bad thrown in with the good right? That makes the good stuff seem even better?

It sounds cliche but if I had to use someone else's words to describe my life right now, I'd use this.

"Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others
even to the dull and the ignorant; for they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, for they are vexations to the spirit.

If you compare yourself to others, you may become vain or bitter
for there will always be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble, it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is.
many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love, for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings,
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars
and you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

With all it's sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful, and strive to be happy."

So that works. And sums it up adequately. Now I need bits and pieces of that taken apart and applied to different aspects of my life.

Is there an app for that?

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

No I will not buy you a fish.

For unknown reasons, Dean likes to ride in my car. Maybe because it's blue. Or because his car seat is cowprint. Who knows.

I'm a good driver, I swear. So it's not for the roller coaster effect or anything.

He wanted to go somewhere, so for lack of anything great to do, we went to Petsmart to look at the fish and frogs.

Guess it was the time of day, but for some reason the shopping center was filled with kids. Like, the annoying kind. Somewhere between 7th grade and freshman year....the awkwardness, the braces, the complete disregard for others around you.

There was a huge group of them in Petsmart, posing for a camera phone picture in front of the homeless cats. And screaming. And running around the store. Cats: "If we could claw your obnoxious eyeballs out, we would."

Dean and I were excitedly squealing over the fish (okay, Dean was, I was mentally calculating how long I'd have to hold one of those kids' heads underwater to drown them) when a girl in way too tight pants, hooker blue eyeshadow, and neon pink braces walks up.

"Hey, like, if I give you some money will you, like, buy me a fish?"
"Uh, why don't you buy your own fish?"
"Because I'm not 18."
"Then you need to come back with your parents and have them buy you a fish. I'm not lying and giving you a living creature for your entertainment purposes."

She proceeds to have a hissyfit. What are you, 12? Oh, yeah, you are.

Seriously! Go home! What the hell are you doing hanging out in Petsmart and Target after school on a Tuesday? Shouldn't you be at someone's house whose parents are at work, experimenting with weed and sex like everyone my age did? If you're not gonna do those things, then kudos to you. Go do your homework or volunteer somewhere. Or, better yet, get a job! So you can buy a fish when you turn 18!

When I have kids I wonder if I'll be looked down on for paying someone else to have them between the ages of 12 and 19. 

On that note, I do kind of find it humorous that while I've been asked many times to buy kids alcohol, I've never been asked to buy one a fish. When I was in high school, it was all about late night beer runs from Circle K. Now it's middle of the afternoon fish runs from Petsmart.

Tuesday, August 11, 2009

Lucky Thursdays.

An interesting turn of events occurred in Tempe tonight and we all ended up at a palm reader. Those places give me a weird feeling because first, I'm not sure if I believe in them in general and second, the idea that someone is able to "read" what really goes on inside my head/life is creepy and weird and invasive. But I tend to like creepy and weird things.

So. I got my palms read. And I had to made sure I only looked at my palms because the lady had this massive HAIRY HAIRY HAIRY wart on her chin that was drawing me in. Like, I couldn't tear my eyes away from it. It was like a small furry animal was comfortably nestled in the folds of her chin.

Tangent. A hairy one. Anyway.

So I couldn't look at her. She told me a lot of stuff and I'm still not sure if it sounded right because it's generic or if it was eerily true. And apparently I'm not supposed to share it with others. But I will say that she told me that most of the good things in my life happen on Thursdays.

Watch out Thursday, I have high hopes for you. Don't let me down!

Afterwards we went to Oreganos and I ended up with a slice of cheese pizza from the kids menu because the pizza our table ordered was a vegetable pizza and I have a love/hate relationship with veggies. Okay, no love at all actually.

At least now I know I won't get bombarded with vegetables on Thursdays.

Saturday, August 8, 2009

Lonely nametags.

Old men in a singles group with their nametags stuck in an earnest and hopeful manner across their shirt pockets sitting all alone at a table with crestfallen expressions break my heart.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

The world is crashing.

People are mad. Fighting. Killing eachother. Starving. Stabbing. Crying. Hugging.

A few minutes ago some guy was outside in the street staring up at the sky and screaming an unintelligible babble of cuss words. He is crazy, dirty, homeless, and probably on drugs.

The sad thing? I identified with him completely at that moment.

Sometimes I'm tired of helping people. Tired of offering comforting words or giving or smiling. Tired of doing what I'm told and being a decent citizen and not stealing or killing or standing out too much.

Sometimes I want to drop everything I'm doing, tell it to go screw itself, and go outside and cuss out the sky.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Lets do this one again.

I'm going to have to take things down a notch. Brace yourselves. I'm going to get serious and angsty and scream and kick and remove my contacts to clean them five times and drink a beer and pour the beer in the sink in exchange for chocolate milk.

The problem is that it's very hard to blog when there is little to say, when one's heart is full of bubbles and brain is full of burps. It's difficult to find the words when every day they seem farther away. I am losing my mind and need a break more than anything.

If I were to describe myself to a stranger I would use this image: A computer with 23982597485 windows open, a radio, and a cell phone all going at once and a kid in my lap.

How can I do it all? What if there are days I can't go outside. Days when I have a deadline and the kiddos need me and the house is a mess and the guinea pig stinks and there are friends in need and the phone keeps ringing and there are people to call back so my friends don't disappear, so I don't become obsolete again, sucked into life and responsibility and waiting for a paycheck instead of a dream.

Advice to friends. Advice to fellow graduates in the same boat. "How do you do it all?" Crack a joke. Make it seem easy. Make everything seem easy. Make life seem easy and working and relationships and writing, keeping the faith after over two and a half years of nursing school, reminding oneself that 6 years of college counted for a lot, counted for everything. Make the bed. Make it nice. Make the people laugh when you sit down to write and if you can't make them laugh make them cry. Make them want to hug you or hold you or punch you in the face. Make them want to kill you or fuck you or be your friend. Make them change. Make them happy. Make Dean smile. Make Ava laugh. Make them lunch. Make them want to change the world.

Hold the phone, someone is on the other line. She says its important. People are dying. Children. Friends. Press mute because there is nothing you can say. Press off because you're running out of minutes. Running out of time. Put down the book, the computer, the ideas. Remember who you are now. Wait. Remember who you were. Wait. Remember what's important. Make a list. Ten things, no twenty. Twenty thousand things you want to do before you die but what if tomorrow never comes? No one will remember. No one will know. No one will laugh or cry or make the bed. No one will finish the first draft of the book I swear I'm going to write about my life. No one will remember the thought you had last night, that great idea you forgot to write down.Who am I to feel overwhelmed when Atlas is out there, floating in space with the weight of the world on his shoulders? His legs crooked and veiny like branches, his feet sinking deeper into nothing. What am I doing with pencils in my ears and ideas in my head and pacifiers in my shoes? 

How can I be everything? How is it possible? Does anyone know? You? Do you?

I'm making lists. One by one I'm checking stuff off, but on no list is there a reminder to slow down. Calm down. Put the computer away and the red pen and the broom and the candy bar and the phone and get thee to a Nunnery or at the very least outside.Thus far the mighty mystery of my life is this: How is it that doing it all feels like nothing is ever getting done.I'm hoping the answers will come with time, or at least a little liquor. Or air. Or something.

Friday, June 5, 2009

Don't mess with me, I'm menstruating.

I am so fucking sick of people blaming their race on me hating them. Seriously. You know why I hate you? Because you are trash and if it was legal for me to blow your freaking head off, I would love to. That's why. I don't give a shit where you are from or what color your skin is. I hate you because you are wasting my time and are a useless human being.

Jen, Leslie, and I went to go see Hangover today and some guy and his wife were sitting behind us. They, of course, had to be those people that speak to each other in a normal voice during the movie. Then he decides to check his voicemail, on speakerphone. I turn around and say "can you please turn that off, it's very loud". He stares me down and I continue watching the movie. Then they start kicking my chair and talking some more. They do this for a LONG time. I finally turn around and say "Be quiet. I am not asking you again". To this he leans forward and says "Sorry I'm not white little bitch".

Did I rage in his face and tell him he is the reason Indians are considered lazy ass pieces of trash that live in filth and mooch off the system? Did I tell him to go back to the rez and fuck himself? Nope. I got up and went to the manager and told him. He follows me in and tells the guy to shut up basically. Mr. Piece of Shit then says "well she keeps pushing her chair back and hitting our legs and she's been on her cell phone this whole time".

Wow. Just wow. Way to be a shady little lying asshat.

Manager leaves and Mr. Piece of Shit continues to screw around. Movie is over and he stands up and decides it's cool to lean over Leslie like he's humping her head. I turn around and say "what???" and he stares at me.

We leave, and the manager won't comp me the movie because I only reported the guy ONCE during the movie. Apparently it needs to be twice for them to remove him.
You sir, are the reason why I hate people. Indians, Mexicans, Blacks, Whites, whatever. I hate all of you that pull shit like that. The "sorry I'm not White" card.

Fuck you. And fuck you Harkins.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

I was in the movie theater with Ava and Dean when my phone rang. I checked my voicemail after it was over and it was a message from the pharmacist at Walgreens, saying a detective from Pinal County sheriffs office was looking for me. Apparently he had found a prescription bottle with my name on it in Apache Junction.Wtf?

I couldn't figure out what they were talking about. I don't take prescription drugs.So I call the detectives number he left the pharmacist and he kept acting like I was hiding something when I said I didn't know what he was talking about. I was starting to get upset when it suddenly hit me.

I have a prescription for prenatal vitamins from a long time ago (apparently they have a lot of iron and B12 in them and since I'm SuperAnemicGirl they were supposed to be good for me). I never filled them, but then my friend from nursing school got pregnant and didn't have a doc right away so I filled mine and gave them to her. A few days later her car was broken into and her bookbag, purse, and the vitamins were stolen. But this was last month so I had forgotten about it.

I started laughing and told the detective that and I bet the guy was driving around thinking he had some awesome drugs that were actually women's vitamins.Anyway, he said that they stopped the car for a traffic stop and they ran, resulting in a home barricade and I probably heard it on the news blah blah blah. I was like OMG, that was it? He said yup, and finding my prenatals helped them link the guys to a string of other robberies. So now the guys are being charged with 12 counts of felony burglary and a prescription drug charge (over hardcore vitamins. Ha!).I just looked up the news story. I think it's hilarious. I was watching the car chase on the news. Never thought my pills were in that car!

He said I'm considered a "victim" of theft now, whatever that means. I'm hoping that's just a label because I REALLY don't wanna drive out there for any reason to talk to them. I just thought this whole thing was kinda funny.

Monday, March 2, 2009

It starts way too early.

What Ava does instead of getting in the tub like I ask her to. I'm washing Dean so my hands are too soapy to grab her and throw her in.

She's 4 and she can work my camera phone better than I can.

But oh sweet and utter chaos, I love love love these kiddos.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Well crap.

I thought I was going to get through the day without getting all weepy but I guess not.There was an old man inside Trader Joes asking for an application. Probably in his 70's. He was saying he had lost everything with the crappy economy, and was eager to work. He said he knew he was old and he hadn't worked in several years but he was strong. He tried to flex his muscles. The manager said he'd see what he could do, and then old man slowly walked out of the store back out to the bus stop.God I wish he was in a garage somewhere, happily tinkering away on some vintage car instead of working away his golden years so he can eat and take care of his wife. Screw all this.

Wednesday, January 28, 2009

How's this for ironic?

So my grandma died on the 12th. We all know that. One of her favorite bands was Supertramp. Her favorite song was The Logical Song. For her funeral, I made a DVD and wanted to use Goodbye Stranger by Supertramp for the song. I got shot down however, since the majority of the people at the funeral wouldn't get it. So I picked another song that worked just as well and was more tear-inducing and funeral appropriate.

Fast forward to today. For our last semester we're doing a practicum, which is basically a short externship, at a hospital of our choice to help get our foot in the door to get hired when we graduate. We picked three places, and would get one of those. Well, it didn't work out that way and hospitals weren't wanting students so after some people not even getting picked, it boiled down to most of us probably getting a position we didn't really want, but we'd have to suck it up and be grateful.

We got our assignments today, and somehow I managed to get my first choice anyway, so now I get to be in the NICU at Phoenix Children's Hospital! I'm excited, but a lot of people were bummed so I felt bad. My first reaction was to get out my cell phone and call my Grandma since she's been waiting to hear where I got assigned to. She was so excited about me being in college and follows every detail of it. Then I remembered she's not here anymore, so I got sad. Got in my car, and turned it on. The song on the radio? Goodbye Stranger. I got chills.

Then, after getting gas and doing other things, I turned my car on again. The Logical Song was playing.

Coincidence? Maybe. But it makes me feel better to think that for once in my life, I had someone keeping an eye out for me and she wasn't letting it go unnoticed. That makes me happy. And I haven't been happy in a long time.

Sunday, January 25, 2009

And keeps shattering....

My cute little Kiwi died on Friday. It was totally out of the blue...well kind of. She was having heart murmurs and breathing issues I noticed on Wednesday, but seemed fine otherwise. She ate and hopped around like usual. But Friday she got worse, and when I got home from work I picked her up to cuddle her. When I put her down, she walked a few steps, then fell over, took a few breaths, and was gone.

Meanwhile I sat on the couch for a half hour bawling my eyes out and clutching my other piggie (yes I know Kiwi was "just a guinea pig", screw you.) before I wrapped her in a blankie and drove out to my parents to bury her outside in the dark next to my childhood piggie.

Godspeed Ki, you were my piggie. I'll miss your cute little hops, the way I could hear you squeal when I walked in the garage door, the way you continued squealing until I came in to say hi. I'll miss the way you squealed whenever you heard the refrigerator open in hopes you were getting a veggie treat. I'll miss the way Kevin would get so pissed at you because you and your sister would wake him up with your excited squeals. I'll miss seeing your little piggie butt scurry down the hallway when I caught you red handed out of your cage, and seeing you hop back in like you weren't up to anything. I'll miss seeing your little head peek around the corner when I called you. I'll miss how little and pissed you looked when you were soaking wet in the sink after a bath. I'll miss watching you munch on veggies on the floor with the family on Christmas morning. I'll miss burrowing my nose behind your little ears when I hugged you. Even though you were "just a guinea pig".

I still remember the day 5 years ago that I picked out you and your sister, 2 tiny fuzz balls in a baby pool with a hundred other piggies in a garage of some creepy guinea pig farm. I smuggled you in my dorm (no pets allowed!) for 6 months.

You are quite possibly the best $20 I've ever spent. It's so quiet now and your sister is looking for you still. :(

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

A first for everyone.

Today was inauguration day. And apparently the whole thing went by without a hitch. Which honestly amazes me considering the amount of hatred being spewed forth from the mouths of so many people at the idea of a Black man being president. I wanted to hurt them with my bare hands until I realized my hating them for hating others was pretty much hypocritical and nonproductive. But anyway, high five America. You didn't shoot anyone or kill anyone or scream racist comments. Good for you for being civilized for once in history. Keep it up, will ya?

And ironically enough, the day before inauguration day was Martin Luther King day. Seriously, I guess instead of focusing on the bigoted assholes that make me hate my species I should focus on the fact that two people made such history. Who ever thought that a woman that wouldn't give up her seat on the bus would be honored for all time? Who ever thought that a single man would make history with only his words? Pretty f'in cool.

Monday, January 12, 2009

and the world shattered.

I randomly woke up last night at 3:45 and was wide awake. Thought nothing of it, peed, and went back to sleep.

My phone rang at 7:16am, it was my grandpa saying my grandma had died in her sleep overnight.

She wasn't sick. I just talked to her last week. It was totally and completely unexpected.

I loved my Grandma so much. I feel so out of control and lost. I don't even know what to say except I need this screen to stare at because it keeps me from laying in my room and screaming.

Monday, January 5, 2009

Poops Ahoy!

I had Thing One and Thing Two (trust me, after this story you will understand why Dean and Ava deserve these names) in the tub the other night and I shut the curtain so they could splash and not get water everywhere. I walked into the other room to get Thing Two's jammies, and was listening through the wall so, you know, I would know if they drowned or whatever. I hear Thing One start screaming, "Aweesha! Aweesha!" and I run in there, thinking Thing Two had smacked his massive melon head on something. I fling open the curtain and Thing One yells "Dean pooped in the bath!". I look, and sure enough, there are tons of little presents floating around in the water, Thing Two sitting there chewing on a rubber duck and grinning like nothing happened. Thing One tells me she'd been playing in there for awhile, thinking the poop was pieces of her bathtub crayons (wow this kid eats WAY too much broccoli if his poop looks like green crayon). So I got paid to clean up poop. And guess what? I'm graduating in 4 months so I can get paid to clean up more poop! Along with other gross things.

Today was my first day back, and we were supposed to have our nursing "forum", which is just an hour long thing in the auditorium with the entire nursing school listening to the administration blab about how wonderful our school is despite the fact that we'll be in debt the rest of our lives from the insane tuition. We did, and it was boring. Now I don't have to go back till Thursday, which is weird because we're supposed to have Mondays and Fridays off for homework, then clinicals Tuesdays and class all day Wednesdays and Thursdays. But hey, I'm not complaining. I was only at school an hour and I'm already tired.

Maliha's mom is being induced tomorrow morning at 5 am! So I get to get up at 3:30 in the morning, drop Maliha off at daycare, and head to the hospital. Baby Mariah should be here sometime tomorrow, and it'll be exciting to actually help deliver a baby of someone I know! I'm pretty excited. I'll update in a day or two with pictures and a (hopefully) awesome birth story.