I am dying to write more about my forbidden romances (once I get an idea about something to write about I think about it every day), but I haven't had one moment of time to blog! 'Tis the busiest time of year. So here's a quick re-cap: I worked 6 shifts in 8 days leading up to Christmas, and boy was it crazy. For some reason at this time of year people get depressed, suicidal, severely ill, etc. The ICU was packed. Depressing, I know, but it's true. I also attended at least 4 Christmas parties, played in two Christmas concerts, went caroling, and attended more gatherings with friends and families than I can even remember. All in about two weeks.
And get this... how lame am I?? 1. I did not get a Christmas tree 2. I did not put up a single holiday decoration 3. I did not wrap a present for Joshua to open (his grandparents gave him lots anyway) 4. I did not play Christmas cd's this year (although I did play Christmas music on my piano when I had time). While you may all say "Bah-humbug" to that, we truly had a great Christmas despite my lameness. Neither Jake nor I are prone to "getting into it" around the holidays anyway, so we got ourselves in the Christmas spirit by helping family members in need and by reflecting upon how blessed we are right now in spite of how crazy this world is these days. We spent a lot of time with family and relished our relationships and friendships. That's how we celebrate.
We went very simple on the Christmas presents this year and only bought each other one item. It was great. Because our real present is that tomorrow we are flying to SAN FRANCISCO for a week!!!!! We will visit family and friends, see the Redwoods, the Golden Gate Bridge, China Town, and do all the other essentials of the New Year holiday. We'll probably shop til we drop and stay up way too late with our nieces and nephews watching movies and playing games. I can't wait!!!!
In the meantime, Joshua is doing great. His recent discoveries include how to drink the water in the toilet bowl, how to unscrew a bottle of eyedrops and then stick it in his eye, how to open the garbage can and add/remove items (I have fished out his blanket, his teddy bear, my cell phone, and other valuable items from the kitchen garbage can), and how to give high-fives. He has left his baby days behind for toddlerhood, and it's an entirely new adventure for all of us! He's the sunshine in our lives.
Anyway, I have to go pack. Thank goodness we are FLYING and not driving to Cali. We've had enough road trips this year to last a loooooooooong time.
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Forbidden (Part I)
Against my better judgement, I am going to take some time to blog. I worked for 11 hours today and then had orchestra rehearsal for 2.5 hours. I really should be getting ready for bed or winding down by reading "The Host" or "The China Study," both of which I desperately want to finish reading. Or I should be cooking food so that we can eat tomorrow since I will be gone from 6:45 am until 10 pm. Like I said, against my better judgement.
But... I actually have a big laundry list of things I've been wanting to blog about. I had better get started before all my good ideas get lost in all the other things I have to remember in order to function during the day. And with no further adieu...
I had an epiphany two weeks ago while driving to work and rocking out to track #2 of the Twilight soundtrack: I know exactly why I love the Twilight series. The story is about forbidden vampire love, foridden lust, foridden love triangles, forbidden you-name-it. It is saturated with all things forbidden. Incidentally, I have always harbored a certain attraction toward the forbidden. It seems to be fairly innate and subconscious, although in recent years I have become more aware and accepting of this tendency. As I drove to work that day, I realized that my life has been marked by one forbidden romance after another. So I hope you will humor me as I blog about the forbidden love life of my past (unfortunately it does not include any vampires).
8th grade. I can't remember if I noticed his tight pants or his country accent first. Either way, he stuck out like a cow amongst a flock of chickens. (I had to use that stupid analogy since he was a complete hick.) He was the new kid in my class, and besides swapping stories with the other hicks in the class about artificially inseminating the cattle on his farm (at the time I did not know what that meant), the only other thing he did during class was stare at me. For some reason I also found him to be attractive, although it could have just been the tight pants. Anyway, soon he got my number, and when he called my house it caused a rather violent reaction from my father (I was only 13 at the time-- far below the legal dating age of 16). He never called again. Soon I managed to sneak away to a school dance from a "sleepover," where we had planned to meet each other. We danced to a song by Aerosmith. It was really long and I had never stood so close to a boy before. I felt extremely awkward and also completely enthralled. Everything about this was forbidden. My parents didn't even know! ...yet.
He asked me to be his girlfriend that night, but the butterflies in my stomach combined with my intensifying guilt and spilled out into a response that sounded like, "Why don't you sneak over to my house sometime when my family is gone and I am all alone?" Yes, far less dangerous than being someone's girlfriend at school. "Hey strange new hick in class, how about I just be your booty call sometime?" Wow, I was naive. But it was forbidden and I couldn't resist.
That weekend was Halloween. Somehow, without the aid of cell phones or driver's licenses, we timed it just right. He hid his bike in the bushes by the house and was waiting in the shadows by the time my family left for trick-or-treating. And then it all happened so fast.
Gotcha! Hahaha. We sat on the couch and talked about whatever awkward 13-year olds talk about. And you thought we were going to make out! Anyway, my family came home about 10 minutes into our deep conversation. He sprinted out the back door. I said a terrified "hello" to my family and snuck outside the first chance I had. Out in the backyard, he kissed me. I don't even think we said anything. I can't say that I kissed him back; he really just planted one on my tightly pursed lips while I stood there in shock.
Anyway, to make a long story short, my family had come home early that night because they had seen his bicycle in the bushes and gotten suspicious. They confronted me when I came back inside, so I told them the truth and to their credit, they invited him to come inside. We sat in the living room and talked for a few tortuous minutes. Somehow he managed to jokingly mention something about the artificial insemination of his cattle again, and I have never forgotten the look on my mother's face. She invited him to leave shortly thereafter. For years to come I have thanked my lucky stars that my dad was out of town on that fateful night. If he had been there, I think someone would have gotten hurt. Needless to say, I "broke up" with my "unboyfriend" the next day. It was just way too dangerous for a 13-year old. I figured I'd put things on hold for a few years.
Fast forward to my 16th birthday party. Of the 52 kids that attended, 44 of them were guys, many of them a year or two older than me. It kept my parents just overwhelmed enough to stay out of the festivities that night, which were held at my house. Many of the guys brought gifts to celebrate my rite of passage as a legally datable young woman. As I was opening them and doing my best to flirt like a real 16-year old, I noticed that a guy was setting up an amp and a guitar out in the backyard. I recognized him from Spanish class. He wore a backwards baseball cap and an earring. We made eye contact and he motioned for me to come outside and join him. He announced to me (and the gathering audience) that he had a very special gift for me. To my utter amazement, he proceeded to play/sing my favorite song, "With Arms Wide Open." I must have mentioned that song sometime during class! How did he know how much I loved that song? There was something magical about it that night, and there was something about him that drew me in.
We began corresponding with each other, and I soon abandoned all the other guys who took me on first dates during the weeks after I turned 16. He came to visit me on one particularly hot August afternoon (yes, I remember the exact date). He parked his huge blue truck ("Big Betty," I believe he called it) in front of my house. We talked and laughed beneath the blazing sun for quite some time. I had been trying to be discreet about how hot the pavement was on my bare feet-- I felt as if they would blister, but I didn't want to venture away from this attractive boy and his big truck. Suddenly he burst into laughter. He had a deep laugh that seemed too manly for his age. He reached down and pulled me close to him so that my feet balanced on his boots. He had just returned from a shift of work at a construction site, and he wore dirty jeans and a dingy tank top. I could feel his sweat as I clutched my hands around his neck, and he smelled like musk and sawdust. He said something about being sorry that my feet were getting burned on the pavement. Our faces were inches away, and the fervor of sun and summer lust enveloped us completely. Soon the August heat was indistinguishable from the feeling of his warm lips on mine. We melted into each other for a moment, and then I stood there in a daze of fever and first love as the rumbling of his truck faded into the distance.
We were never too far from each other after that August day. My parents noticed how much time we were spending together, and they issued their official declaration of disapproval. It did absolutely nothing to sway our affection for each other. Our summer love gained momentum into the fall and the start of a new school year. It wasn't long before we were viewed "together" by our classmates, although we maintained a distinct level of separateness... boyfriend and girlfriend, steady, exclusive, etc., were all forbidden terms for the sake of being truthful to my parents, who maintainted their unrelenting disapproval as our affection for each other grew. We never held hands or kissed at school (with the exception of a few secret places we knew of), although throughout most of our relationship this was difficult for him. He didn't want to hide how he felt for me, nor did he enjoy my unwilling attempts to withold my feelings for him in front of others. He wanted to love me freely, and if I could do it all over again I would have allowed it. After all, our non-boyfriend/girlfriend relationship caused enough drama that terms and titles mattered little in the long run.
So, you want to know the rest of the story, eh? Well, you'll just have to keep checking my blog. :) Truthfully, I am exhausted (although energized by transforming my memories into rhetoric) and I need to call it a night before I get too carried away. There is still much to write about, and if you stick around long enough you might be lucky enough to learn to full story of how my forbidden loves led me to the love of my life. While I hope you enjoy reading all of this, I'm mostly doing it for my own sake-- to relive and remember this part of my life. More to come soon. :)
But... I actually have a big laundry list of things I've been wanting to blog about. I had better get started before all my good ideas get lost in all the other things I have to remember in order to function during the day. And with no further adieu...
I had an epiphany two weeks ago while driving to work and rocking out to track #2 of the Twilight soundtrack: I know exactly why I love the Twilight series. The story is about forbidden vampire love, foridden lust, foridden love triangles, forbidden you-name-it. It is saturated with all things forbidden. Incidentally, I have always harbored a certain attraction toward the forbidden. It seems to be fairly innate and subconscious, although in recent years I have become more aware and accepting of this tendency. As I drove to work that day, I realized that my life has been marked by one forbidden romance after another. So I hope you will humor me as I blog about the forbidden love life of my past (unfortunately it does not include any vampires).
8th grade. I can't remember if I noticed his tight pants or his country accent first. Either way, he stuck out like a cow amongst a flock of chickens. (I had to use that stupid analogy since he was a complete hick.) He was the new kid in my class, and besides swapping stories with the other hicks in the class about artificially inseminating the cattle on his farm (at the time I did not know what that meant), the only other thing he did during class was stare at me. For some reason I also found him to be attractive, although it could have just been the tight pants. Anyway, soon he got my number, and when he called my house it caused a rather violent reaction from my father (I was only 13 at the time-- far below the legal dating age of 16). He never called again. Soon I managed to sneak away to a school dance from a "sleepover," where we had planned to meet each other. We danced to a song by Aerosmith. It was really long and I had never stood so close to a boy before. I felt extremely awkward and also completely enthralled. Everything about this was forbidden. My parents didn't even know! ...yet.
He asked me to be his girlfriend that night, but the butterflies in my stomach combined with my intensifying guilt and spilled out into a response that sounded like, "Why don't you sneak over to my house sometime when my family is gone and I am all alone?" Yes, far less dangerous than being someone's girlfriend at school. "Hey strange new hick in class, how about I just be your booty call sometime?" Wow, I was naive. But it was forbidden and I couldn't resist.
That weekend was Halloween. Somehow, without the aid of cell phones or driver's licenses, we timed it just right. He hid his bike in the bushes by the house and was waiting in the shadows by the time my family left for trick-or-treating. And then it all happened so fast.
Gotcha! Hahaha. We sat on the couch and talked about whatever awkward 13-year olds talk about. And you thought we were going to make out! Anyway, my family came home about 10 minutes into our deep conversation. He sprinted out the back door. I said a terrified "hello" to my family and snuck outside the first chance I had. Out in the backyard, he kissed me. I don't even think we said anything. I can't say that I kissed him back; he really just planted one on my tightly pursed lips while I stood there in shock.
Anyway, to make a long story short, my family had come home early that night because they had seen his bicycle in the bushes and gotten suspicious. They confronted me when I came back inside, so I told them the truth and to their credit, they invited him to come inside. We sat in the living room and talked for a few tortuous minutes. Somehow he managed to jokingly mention something about the artificial insemination of his cattle again, and I have never forgotten the look on my mother's face. She invited him to leave shortly thereafter. For years to come I have thanked my lucky stars that my dad was out of town on that fateful night. If he had been there, I think someone would have gotten hurt. Needless to say, I "broke up" with my "unboyfriend" the next day. It was just way too dangerous for a 13-year old. I figured I'd put things on hold for a few years.
Fast forward to my 16th birthday party. Of the 52 kids that attended, 44 of them were guys, many of them a year or two older than me. It kept my parents just overwhelmed enough to stay out of the festivities that night, which were held at my house. Many of the guys brought gifts to celebrate my rite of passage as a legally datable young woman. As I was opening them and doing my best to flirt like a real 16-year old, I noticed that a guy was setting up an amp and a guitar out in the backyard. I recognized him from Spanish class. He wore a backwards baseball cap and an earring. We made eye contact and he motioned for me to come outside and join him. He announced to me (and the gathering audience) that he had a very special gift for me. To my utter amazement, he proceeded to play/sing my favorite song, "With Arms Wide Open." I must have mentioned that song sometime during class! How did he know how much I loved that song? There was something magical about it that night, and there was something about him that drew me in.
We began corresponding with each other, and I soon abandoned all the other guys who took me on first dates during the weeks after I turned 16. He came to visit me on one particularly hot August afternoon (yes, I remember the exact date). He parked his huge blue truck ("Big Betty," I believe he called it) in front of my house. We talked and laughed beneath the blazing sun for quite some time. I had been trying to be discreet about how hot the pavement was on my bare feet-- I felt as if they would blister, but I didn't want to venture away from this attractive boy and his big truck. Suddenly he burst into laughter. He had a deep laugh that seemed too manly for his age. He reached down and pulled me close to him so that my feet balanced on his boots. He had just returned from a shift of work at a construction site, and he wore dirty jeans and a dingy tank top. I could feel his sweat as I clutched my hands around his neck, and he smelled like musk and sawdust. He said something about being sorry that my feet were getting burned on the pavement. Our faces were inches away, and the fervor of sun and summer lust enveloped us completely. Soon the August heat was indistinguishable from the feeling of his warm lips on mine. We melted into each other for a moment, and then I stood there in a daze of fever and first love as the rumbling of his truck faded into the distance.
We were never too far from each other after that August day. My parents noticed how much time we were spending together, and they issued their official declaration of disapproval. It did absolutely nothing to sway our affection for each other. Our summer love gained momentum into the fall and the start of a new school year. It wasn't long before we were viewed "together" by our classmates, although we maintained a distinct level of separateness... boyfriend and girlfriend, steady, exclusive, etc., were all forbidden terms for the sake of being truthful to my parents, who maintainted their unrelenting disapproval as our affection for each other grew. We never held hands or kissed at school (with the exception of a few secret places we knew of), although throughout most of our relationship this was difficult for him. He didn't want to hide how he felt for me, nor did he enjoy my unwilling attempts to withold my feelings for him in front of others. He wanted to love me freely, and if I could do it all over again I would have allowed it. After all, our non-boyfriend/girlfriend relationship caused enough drama that terms and titles mattered little in the long run.
So, you want to know the rest of the story, eh? Well, you'll just have to keep checking my blog. :) Truthfully, I am exhausted (although energized by transforming my memories into rhetoric) and I need to call it a night before I get too carried away. There is still much to write about, and if you stick around long enough you might be lucky enough to learn to full story of how my forbidden loves led me to the love of my life. While I hope you enjoy reading all of this, I'm mostly doing it for my own sake-- to relive and remember this part of my life. More to come soon. :)
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Blahhhhh
It is ridiculous trying to find time to blog now that I don't have the internet at home. However, I did take the time to update all my pictures on facebook, so for a photo update (well, not that recent, I guess) you'll have to check out my profile. For some reason facebook still comes before blogging when I only get to the internet for 5 minutes at a time every couple days. Oh well. I still enjoy surfing through everyone else's blogs when I have a spare minute at work (which doesn't happen much). So keep updating your blogs, everyone! I love reading them, even if I never update mine anymore. :) On the bright side, I find that I do have more time at home for more "productive" activities... such as playing my new piano, practicing my french horn, reading books, playing with Joshua, cooking dinner the night before I work so I actually have something to eat the next day... and so forth. Anyway, gotta go. :)
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
I Might As Well Be 80...
We don't have the internet anymore. We figured since Jake is at his brother's all day long and has full access to it, we can live with that until it drives us crazy. Of course that means I will rarely be blogging until that changes. Just giving a fair warning. :) The worst part, though? Not being able to watch all my favorite online episodes... we don't have a TV, either. And my computer recently self-destructed so we can't even watch DVD's on it. And did I mention that we also do not have a dishwasher, garbage disposal, or microwave? At least we have running water and indoor plumbing. :) But really, I do love our new place. It's cozy and nice. Lots of storage. Big yard. Lots of cupboard space. New carpet. I can deal.
I started work at the hospital. WOW it is so BUSY. It's so easy to forget how insane a shift at the hospital can be. I was up to my armpits in diarrhea yesterday, and today was sputum day. Gotta love it. Anyway, gotta run. Oh and my baby is doing great and Jake is doing great and life is hunky dory. :)
I started work at the hospital. WOW it is so BUSY. It's so easy to forget how insane a shift at the hospital can be. I was up to my armpits in diarrhea yesterday, and today was sputum day. Gotta love it. Anyway, gotta run. Oh and my baby is doing great and Jake is doing great and life is hunky dory. :)
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Where I've Been
Blogging has been dead last on my list of priorities lately. Here is where I've been since I last blogged before Going West:
Siesta Beach
AMAZING. White sand, gentle waves, partly cloudy sky, warm ocean breeze. It was paradise. I am seriously experiencing Florida withdrawls.
Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, Illonois, Missouri, Kansas, Colorado, Utah.
Luckily, the trip went smoothly. Joshua was an angel and handled the road trip just fine. We did manage to run out of gas about 50 yards from a gas station in Atlanta in the rain. We pushed the car the rest of the way and gassed up for $3.99/gallon. A few days later we drove past $2.79/gallon in Missouri! And that was weeks ago! It must be close to $2.00/gallon now. We also memorized the alphabet backwards (we can say it fast!), got pulled over for taillights that didn't work (we had no idea) and luckily just got a warning, my cell phone died and never came back to life, listened to the worst thriller novel ever that we picked up at a truck stop, and otherwise had a great time being cramped up together in a loaded-down Jetta for 3 days.
Apartment hunting
Blah. I hate apartment hunting. This time it was slightly more discouraging... the state of the economy has a lot more people looking to rent, so we found ourselves having to compete with a lot of other potential renters for all the good rental properties. After our top 3 choices got snatched away from us, we finally found a cute little duplex to rent from a young married couple. They have made a lot of improvements on it (new carpet, cabinets, floors, vanity, toilet, etc.), so even though it's a tad small for what we wanted it will be a great place to live. Now we just have to move in on Saturday. Yikes. Send all the able-bodied men our way!!!
David's Garage
At the beginning of the year, Jake's brother David got a piano for free from KSL. They stuck it in their garage with the intent of refinishing it. David's wife, Michelle, was pregnant at the time, and she told me, "If I don't have the piano refinished by the time this baby is born, you can have it." So, I patiently waited for her to have the baby, secretly hoping that she would not have time to do anything to it. Sure enough, the piano was forgotten with the hubbub of baby #4 and moving to a new home. They left the piano in their garage for me to have!!! Jake and I decided to fix it up since we have some time before we move and before work and school pick up in a few months. Not having the slightest clue of what to do, we headed to Home Depot, determined to transform the neglected piano into a work of art. 3 days, 13 hours of labor and $175 later, the piano is almost finished! It is now a beautiful black color and all that remains is to fix the legs and a wood panel on top and to get it tuned and I will have a piano!!! I studied classical piano for 12 years and I can't wait to brush up on my musical abilites again.
Driving, Working, Driving
Alas, we have but one car these days. Since we live in P-town and Jake works in the other P-town and I work in AF, all we do is drive all over Utah county. We wake up, I drop Jake and Josh off in P-town, then I drive to AF for work, then I pick them up in P-town and then we drive back to the other P-town. So, about 100 miles a day. Yeesh. DOES ANYONE HAVE AN EXTRA CAR THEY WANT TO GIVE AWAY??? I'm completely serious. We desperately need a second car. It's only going to get crazier.
Celebrating
Life, with all its craziness, is wonderful. Joshua is now 1 year old and walking all over the place. He says "mama" and is learning all kinds of things every day. We are again surrounded by friends and family here in Utah, and we've enjoyed catching up with everyone. We love each other and can't wait to see what this new phase of life will bring. Rock on. 
Monday, October 6, 2008
Go West, Go West
It's 2:22 am, and we are almost finished packing up our belongings in preparation to drive across the country for the third time this summer. (Note: for us, it is still summer. We have been living in this denial for some time now.) My blogging has been sparse lately because we have been adventuring in the Florida Keys and otherwise busying ourselves with life. The Keys were amazing!! We went on a 4-hour snorkeling trip to the barrier reef off the coast of Key Largo. We put Joshua in a little floaty device and took him onto the reef with us! It was perfect: we didn't have to trade off watching him on the boat and miss out on precious snorkeling time, and Joshua was lulled to sleep by the ocean. We saw countless varieties of tropical fish, and at the very end we even saw a shark and a huge stingray! It was the highlight of the trip. We also ventured all the way down to Key West, where we watched the sunset from the famous Mallory Square and then observed the nightlife on Duval Street. Fortunately that part included dancing to a live salsa band! Joshua was a good boy and sat cooperatively in the stroller while we danced in the warm evening. (The picture of us was taken during the sunset, but the photo doesn't do it justice! It was absolutely beautiful.)
Anyway, for our last hurrah, we will spend a day at Siesta Key, home of the Whitest Sand on Earth. It should be lovely. :) And then the real fun begins, as we attempt to make the 2500+ mile journey to Utah in 3 days. Goodbye, Florida!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Monopoly Is The Worst
There are few board games I enjoy playing less than Monopoly. During the handful of times I have forced myself to endure an entire game, it usually proceeds like this: I go about my merry little Monopoly life, earning paper money, buying a property here and there, letting other people pay me rent from time to time, getting money for passing Go, and occasionally winning some extra money by landing on Free Parking. Of course Monopoly life has its setbacks-- the occasional trip to jail, paying extra taxes because you drew a bad Chance card, or paying another player rent when you land on their property. But all in all, it's not so bad at first. All the players get along, everyone makes money, and Monopoly life carries on in relative peace and happiness.Then someone-- usually my brother or another savvy male player-- manages to trick me into allowing them to obtain a monopoly. They sweeten the deal by trading me some worthless property or by giving me cash, but they assure me it is for my benefit. The next thing I know, I'm broke, stuck in jail, and forced to watch while the other player gleefully purchases the entire board, builds hotels everywhere, and then laughs hysterically while the rest of us go bankrupt. And then Monopoly life as I knew it is over; one person wins everything, and all the other players lose everything. I do not understand how this game is ever supposed to be enjoyable.
As much as I hate the game, apparently you can learn a lot from Monopoly. Sometimes, you can even watch it be played out in real life. These days, all you have to do is glance at the headlines. Not too long ago, saying our economy was headed for financial disaster was considered doomsdayish. Now that the state of our economy is a little more socially acceptable to speak of, I feel a little freed up to share my opinions on the matter. :)
I personally think that massive government "bailouts" (purchases) that rival the likes of interventions made during the Great Depression are like putting a band-aid over a hemorrhaging wound. It remedies the situation only temporarily, and it does absolutely nothing to alleviate the real problem... which in this case is massive inflation, a toxic subprime mortgage industry, record-breaking debt at both consumer and national levels, and an ever-weakening dollar. Bailing out giant financial corporations with Monopoly money (literally... the dollar is backed by nothing but thin air) and passing the $1 trillion bill down to the consumer in the form of higher taxes will do little to cure the ailing economy. These days, the average family can barely afford to buy food and gas after they have paid their mortgages and monthly bills, much less cover the bill for a desperate corporate bailout. Why should the poor have to bail out the rich?
What we have here is a life-sized game of Monopoly: the savvy Feds are purchasing "properties" right and left while the rest of the country wallows in debt, high taxes, and an inflated dollar. In terms of Monopoly, the rest of the country is still broke, stuck in jail, and waiting to be bailed out. The more the Feds own as a result of their bailouts, the closer they come to owning a Monopoly and the closer free capitalism comes to its death. They already own the majority of American mortgages and they are well on their way to owning most of the financial giants in the country (Countrywide, Bear Sterns, Lehman Brothers, AIG, etc etc have all been bailed out with more coming soon to a headline near you).
It does you little good to have a Get Out of Jail Free card if you step out into your freedom to find that you don't really own anything anymore, you have no borrowing or trading power, capitalism is dwindling away, and you can't buy much with what little money you have. Now, I'm not saying that the goverment will gleefully wreak havoc once it owns a Monopoly; however, the idea of that much "property" and power being in the hands of a single entity is rather disconcerting to me. The entire purpose of free capitalism is to spread the wealth into the hands of the American people, to ensure a free market, to check and balance the economy, and to check and balance the power of the big players. Instead, debt is being spread to the American consumers, free market principles are being violated, the economy is hanging by a thread, and the big players are getting bailed out.
Usually by this point in Monopoly, when I am irritated that my brother is winning and I am losing, I look on the bright side: the insufferable game is almost over. In real life, I'm still frustrated that my Big Brother isn't exactly doing me any favors, but I look on the bright side: he just bought me some time. (Well, I just bought myself some time, since I am a taxpayer.) Instead of complete economic collapse, the Feds have bailed us out yet again with a Get Out of Jail Free card. It is what we do as we step outside into our freedom that is crucial. We have been given another chance to get our finances in order and to prepare ourselves in every way to be self-sufficient. There may not be a band-aid big enough to contain the hemorrhage, but sometimes a blood transfusion and some thick bandages can do the trick for a while as you try to stop the bleeding.
I'm trying to stay positive and to focus on creating a future of wealth and abundance for myself and my family. I've been given more time to prepare, and I'll take it. I will do what I can.
What do you think? What are your opinions?
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
The 6 Most Disgusting Things I Have Seen and Done as a Nurse
(WARNING: this post contains graphic content and is not for the faint of heart. If you are prone to throwing up, read this at your own risk. I'm serious.)
(WARNING: this is also a very long post.)
I began working in the field of healthcare 6 years ago this month. Something happened the other day (more on that incident later) that made me reflect on all the nasty, disgusting, vomit-worthy things I have seen and done as a CNA/nurse. It's a wonder that despite all those things, I have never once in my entire healthcare career even come close to vomiting on the job. I've never even gagged, dry heaved, or passed out. So, in honor of my 6 years in healthcare and with no further adieu, here is a list of The 6 Most Disgusting Things I Have Seen and Done as a Nurse (they are numbered for convenience and not really ranked because they are all winners):
6. On my first day of CNA clinicals, the nurse told me she needed my help with something. With no hint of what she needed me for, I followed her into a room that smelled like poop. Sure enough, a sickly hispanic man was lying in his bed... which was completely saturated with liquid fecal matter (diarrhea). He was literally lying in a bath of his own excrement. He also happened to be delirious, and he had managed to smear the poo all over his body. The nurse methodically stripped him naked (which was also the first time I ever saw a naked male patient) and told me to put on some gloves. After that point, I have little memory of what happened, except that the entire time I wished I could plug my nose (but couldn't, because my hands were covered in poo) and I hoped I wasn't staring too much at the man's nakedness (it didn't take long after that to be able to tune it out). This item represents not only this incident, but all of the other times that I have entered a patient's room to discover they are lying in a diarrhea bath in their bed. It's happened more times than I can remember.
5. On my second day of CNA clinicals, a nurse approached me and asked if I would like to help with a dressing change. "Sure," I said. What else was I going to say? I barely even knew what a dressing change was at that point. He handed me a gown, mask, and gloves, and snickered, "This is a bad one. You're not going to want to eat a cheeseburger tonight after this one." He continued to snicker as I clumsily donned the isolation attire. He was clearly looking forward to watching me throw up.
We entered the room and joined a group of about six other people who encircled the bed. At first I honestly didn't even know what I was looking at. The nurse who had recruited me explained, "This is a bed sore." I was confused; I learned in class that a bed sore was a skin ulcer that typically formed over a bony prominence such as the hip, the heel, or the elbow. This was a bed sore to end all other bed sores. The patient was lying on his belly with his back side exposed. The bed sore extended from a few inches below his shoulder blades and all the way down to his upper thighs. The nurse pointed at a whitish thing and said, "That is the sacrum." I gulped. Bone? He pointed again, "And that is the anus." It was only then that I noticed the hole where his butt cheeks should have been. As I watched in horror, poo oozed from the hole and a nurse across from us wiped it away with a washcloth. About 30 seconds after she wiped it, the hole oozed again, as it continued to do for the duration of my observation.
It is difficult to describe what a bed sore of that size looks like; however, those of you who understand how disgusting even a small bed sore can be will probably be able to imagine it. This one, naturally, was infected with probably every nosocomial superbug known to man. The saddest thing about it? The patient was a quadriplegic and had developed the ulcer as a result of negligence by his caretakers.
4. Melanie and I worked with each other as CNAs at a certain nursing home that shall remain unnamed. It was a rare occasion that we worked with each other on the same unit for the same shift, but it was on one of those rare days that this lovely experience happened. We have reminisced about it ever since. :)
We had a patient for quite some time who was a paraplegic and had developed a bed sore on his butt (ischial tuberosities) as a result of his own neglicence and poor hygeine. The sore grew until it had eaten away the depth of the tissue on his butt, creating an oval-shaped, infected, gaping hole. From there, a phenomenon called "tunneling" occurred, in which the infection spread to the adjacent tissues and ate away the flesh under the skin. It might be hard to picture it, but basically the sore extended under the skin in both directions away from the hole on his butt... up to his lower back and down his legs to his knees. That means that if you were to put your finger in the sore, you would eventually have to reach most of your forearm into the sore in order to reach the end of it. That is "tunneling." It's pretty much what it sounds like. The infection makes a tunnel under the skin.
The pus and fluid of his massively infected bed sore would accumulate in the tunneled space of the backs of his legs as he sat in his wheelchair and watched TV. Then, when it was time for a dressing change, he would swing himself onto the bed, subsequently squirting the fluid out of the hole on his butt and all over the bed and everything near it. We had to layer multiple towels and absorbent pads on the bed in order to catch most of it (and it still inevitably spilled over onto the floor). The smell of the fluid is absolutely indescribable. I have never, ever smelled anything worse. That is saying a lot, because I have smelled a great deal of nasty smells. This smell went beyond nasty and beyond any rotten smell my senses can conceive. It was this smell that sent another CNA (on a different day) running from the room to vomit.
So the story goes as follows: the patient's doctor came to assess his wound. He had Melanie and I position the patient on the bed (squirt, splash) so he could remove the guauze from the tunneled flesh. After he removed it and assessed the wound, he went to find the nurse to come and repack the wound. He returned and reported that the nurse was nowhere to be found (she had a tendency to disappear at crucial moments). "Well," he said matter-of-factly, "just repack the wound yourselves. Tell the nurse I stopped by." Then he threw his gloves in the trash and quickly left the room. Melanie and I just stared at each other in shock. After a moment we simultaneously shrugged our shoulders and began repacking the wound, shoving the gauze down, down, down his legs as far as we could shove it. It was so disgusting. What more can I say?
It is only in hindsight that we have realized how many laws we violated in following the doctor's orders to dress the wound. "Scope of practice," anyone? haha. Good times.
3. As a nurse in the burn unit, I saw a lot of nasty stuff. One in particular stands out in my mind as much for its uniqueness and absurdity as anything else. I was heading into the "tank room" to assist with a dressing change. The head wound care nurse walked beside me and whispered, "This is a really bad one. He has gangrene on his groin. Are you sure you want to help out?" I was pregnant at the time, and everyone was overly concerned that my gag reflex was weak. I assured him I was fine, now more curious than ever about the wound.
Once the dressings were removed from the "groin wound," I could only stare. I knew what was supposed to be there and what it should look like, but I was at a loss for explanation. It took me-- no kidding-- the entire length of the dressing change to figure out what had happened to the patient's "stuff." The gangrene had completely eaten away his scrotum, leaving his raw testicles exposed, not to mention every other tendon/muscle/tissue that exists down there. The outer layer of skin on his penis was also completely gone. I basically saw a man's groin with the flesh eaten away from it. I'm just gonna end this one now.
2. On the burn unit I once helped give post-mortum care to a patient who had died from a rare skin infection. The infection had eaten away most of the skin, even the eyelids and most of the nose, etc. As we began washing the body, we removed the dressings that covered nearly all of the patient's body. Since I was pregnant at the time, I had not worked with this patient much because the infection was so severe, and had therefore never seen the full extent of the infection. I was horrified to see, as we carefully removed the dressings, that the infection had eaten away not just the skin, but most of the flesh beneath it. All that remained was dead, rotten, gray-green tissue. Everywhere. Even the fingers and toes were black and shriveled. Dead. Everything was dead. And the smell of rotten flesh was almost unbearable. I couldn't eat that night. I had to block that one out of my mind for a long time. Even now I shiver just remembering it.
1. As a new CNA in a nursing home, I often got delegated the most undesirable tasks by the rest of the staff. One morning, a veteran CNA motioned for me to follow her down the hall. "I have something for you to do," she whispered, trying not to smile. We stopped at an open door to a room at the end of the hall. A morbidly obese woman sat in an oversized, automatic wheelchair at the center of the room. I raised my eyebrows in question, and the CNA just said, "Look closely." It was then I noticed the trail of diarrhea leading from the floor where we stood to the back of her wheelchair. My eyes followed the poop trail up the back of the wheelchair to where it was oozing out from between the woman's obese rear end and the cushion of the chair. "Oh," I said, having no idea where to begin. The only thing I knew about this patient was that she weighed over 400 lbs. and could barely stand on her own.
The CNA stifled another smile and began gathering supplies: a walker, gloves, a garbage can, and several boxes of wipes. She placed the walker in front of the woman, the garbage can off to the side of the wheelchair, and the gloves and wipes on a small bedside table. She bent down and removed two extra garbage bags from the garbage can and handed them to me. "Here," she said, "put these on your arms." I did as she said, still not understanding what to do as she tied the open ends of the bags securely around my upper arms. Then she handed me two pairs of latex gloves. "Put these on, too." A smile slowly spread across her face, and I realized what she expected me to do. In that moment I hated her for making me do what I was about to do, and I hated being the rookie CNA. She turned and walked out of the room, chuckling to herself as she went.
I then proceeded, grunting and straining, to assist the 400-lb. woman to stand up with her walker. Diarrhea slid down her legs and onto the floor as she stood. "Uh... lean forward on the walker," I instructed, as the woman apologized profusely for the situation. I felt bad for her, but I felt worse for me. I then removed her saturated pants and wiped down the poopy wheelchair as quickly as I could. Then I turned toward the real task at hand: her enormous rear end.
You see, the... uh, crack... of a 400-lb. person's rear end is not like that of a normal butt. It's like an 18-inch deep crevice with rolls and folds and hidden places like the unchartered territory of... oh, I don't know. It's just gross. So... I dove in, garbage-bagged arms and all. Again and again I reached in and pulled out handful after handful of poop. I was literally up to my face in poopy buttcrack.
Just as I was wiping the last of the diarrhea from her enormous bottom, she cried, "Oh no! Oh no! I have to go again! I'm so sorry-- I-- I'm going again! Oh nooooo..." and she then proceeded to poop again... all over everything I had just sacrificed my dignity to wipe clean. I could only stare in horror. I wanted to cry. But I didn't. I just rebagged my arms and did it all over again. These days, I would get paid over $20/hour as a nurse for torture like that. Back then, I only got $8/hour. At least I got a great story out of the experience. It's one of my favorites.
Most likely, all of you will agree that these experiences are utterly disgusting. If you don't, you are probably a nurse.
So, after all of this, I have still never even so much as gagged on the job. In fact, until last October, I had not vomited since I was 7 years old and had the stomach flu. An hour before I went into labor, I ate an entire frozen pizza because I hadn't eaten all day. I regretted it when, at 2 am and 4 cm, I barfed all of it into a toilet in the labor and delivery triage room. I was sad to give up my vomit-free streak of 15 years, but I was in labor and didn't really care.
Anyway, what I'm getting at is how ridiculous it is that I don't even gag over experiences like those in my Top 6, but other comparatively mild unpleasantries will nearly make me puke. Case in point: as I was composing my last post, my child crawled over to the sliding doors by the computer and began playing with the window blinds. I soon heard those unmistakable noises that always indicate he has something in his mouth. I snatched him up and opened his mouth, expecting to see a stray goldfish cracker or something. Instead, I found the large, partially-chewed torso of a dead bug!! It was large enough for me to notice the stripes on its belly and that it had only one giant leg still attached. "Ewwww!!!!" I shrieked, and flung the bug torso across the room. I gagged and considered bolting for the bathroom, but Joshua smiled widely and I saw another particle in the corner of his mouth... I plucked out another giant leg, shrieked loudly, and again flung it across the room. I could tell that he still had more bug in his mouth by the way he was still drooling and chewing, but before I could reach my finger in his mouth again he swallowed it!!!!! Ahhhhh!!! I nearly lost it. Joshua found all of this hilarious.
I must be messed up since I would prefer scooping diarrhea out of a 400-lb. woman's rear end to plucking a dead bug out of my child's mouth. Maybe I need help.
(WARNING: this is also a very long post.)
I began working in the field of healthcare 6 years ago this month. Something happened the other day (more on that incident later) that made me reflect on all the nasty, disgusting, vomit-worthy things I have seen and done as a CNA/nurse. It's a wonder that despite all those things, I have never once in my entire healthcare career even come close to vomiting on the job. I've never even gagged, dry heaved, or passed out. So, in honor of my 6 years in healthcare and with no further adieu, here is a list of The 6 Most Disgusting Things I Have Seen and Done as a Nurse (they are numbered for convenience and not really ranked because they are all winners):
6. On my first day of CNA clinicals, the nurse told me she needed my help with something. With no hint of what she needed me for, I followed her into a room that smelled like poop. Sure enough, a sickly hispanic man was lying in his bed... which was completely saturated with liquid fecal matter (diarrhea). He was literally lying in a bath of his own excrement. He also happened to be delirious, and he had managed to smear the poo all over his body. The nurse methodically stripped him naked (which was also the first time I ever saw a naked male patient) and told me to put on some gloves. After that point, I have little memory of what happened, except that the entire time I wished I could plug my nose (but couldn't, because my hands were covered in poo) and I hoped I wasn't staring too much at the man's nakedness (it didn't take long after that to be able to tune it out). This item represents not only this incident, but all of the other times that I have entered a patient's room to discover they are lying in a diarrhea bath in their bed. It's happened more times than I can remember.
5. On my second day of CNA clinicals, a nurse approached me and asked if I would like to help with a dressing change. "Sure," I said. What else was I going to say? I barely even knew what a dressing change was at that point. He handed me a gown, mask, and gloves, and snickered, "This is a bad one. You're not going to want to eat a cheeseburger tonight after this one." He continued to snicker as I clumsily donned the isolation attire. He was clearly looking forward to watching me throw up.
We entered the room and joined a group of about six other people who encircled the bed. At first I honestly didn't even know what I was looking at. The nurse who had recruited me explained, "This is a bed sore." I was confused; I learned in class that a bed sore was a skin ulcer that typically formed over a bony prominence such as the hip, the heel, or the elbow. This was a bed sore to end all other bed sores. The patient was lying on his belly with his back side exposed. The bed sore extended from a few inches below his shoulder blades and all the way down to his upper thighs. The nurse pointed at a whitish thing and said, "That is the sacrum." I gulped. Bone? He pointed again, "And that is the anus." It was only then that I noticed the hole where his butt cheeks should have been. As I watched in horror, poo oozed from the hole and a nurse across from us wiped it away with a washcloth. About 30 seconds after she wiped it, the hole oozed again, as it continued to do for the duration of my observation.
It is difficult to describe what a bed sore of that size looks like; however, those of you who understand how disgusting even a small bed sore can be will probably be able to imagine it. This one, naturally, was infected with probably every nosocomial superbug known to man. The saddest thing about it? The patient was a quadriplegic and had developed the ulcer as a result of negligence by his caretakers.
4. Melanie and I worked with each other as CNAs at a certain nursing home that shall remain unnamed. It was a rare occasion that we worked with each other on the same unit for the same shift, but it was on one of those rare days that this lovely experience happened. We have reminisced about it ever since. :)
We had a patient for quite some time who was a paraplegic and had developed a bed sore on his butt (ischial tuberosities) as a result of his own neglicence and poor hygeine. The sore grew until it had eaten away the depth of the tissue on his butt, creating an oval-shaped, infected, gaping hole. From there, a phenomenon called "tunneling" occurred, in which the infection spread to the adjacent tissues and ate away the flesh under the skin. It might be hard to picture it, but basically the sore extended under the skin in both directions away from the hole on his butt... up to his lower back and down his legs to his knees. That means that if you were to put your finger in the sore, you would eventually have to reach most of your forearm into the sore in order to reach the end of it. That is "tunneling." It's pretty much what it sounds like. The infection makes a tunnel under the skin.
The pus and fluid of his massively infected bed sore would accumulate in the tunneled space of the backs of his legs as he sat in his wheelchair and watched TV. Then, when it was time for a dressing change, he would swing himself onto the bed, subsequently squirting the fluid out of the hole on his butt and all over the bed and everything near it. We had to layer multiple towels and absorbent pads on the bed in order to catch most of it (and it still inevitably spilled over onto the floor). The smell of the fluid is absolutely indescribable. I have never, ever smelled anything worse. That is saying a lot, because I have smelled a great deal of nasty smells. This smell went beyond nasty and beyond any rotten smell my senses can conceive. It was this smell that sent another CNA (on a different day) running from the room to vomit.
So the story goes as follows: the patient's doctor came to assess his wound. He had Melanie and I position the patient on the bed (squirt, splash) so he could remove the guauze from the tunneled flesh. After he removed it and assessed the wound, he went to find the nurse to come and repack the wound. He returned and reported that the nurse was nowhere to be found (she had a tendency to disappear at crucial moments). "Well," he said matter-of-factly, "just repack the wound yourselves. Tell the nurse I stopped by." Then he threw his gloves in the trash and quickly left the room. Melanie and I just stared at each other in shock. After a moment we simultaneously shrugged our shoulders and began repacking the wound, shoving the gauze down, down, down his legs as far as we could shove it. It was so disgusting. What more can I say?
It is only in hindsight that we have realized how many laws we violated in following the doctor's orders to dress the wound. "Scope of practice," anyone? haha. Good times.
3. As a nurse in the burn unit, I saw a lot of nasty stuff. One in particular stands out in my mind as much for its uniqueness and absurdity as anything else. I was heading into the "tank room" to assist with a dressing change. The head wound care nurse walked beside me and whispered, "This is a really bad one. He has gangrene on his groin. Are you sure you want to help out?" I was pregnant at the time, and everyone was overly concerned that my gag reflex was weak. I assured him I was fine, now more curious than ever about the wound.
Once the dressings were removed from the "groin wound," I could only stare. I knew what was supposed to be there and what it should look like, but I was at a loss for explanation. It took me-- no kidding-- the entire length of the dressing change to figure out what had happened to the patient's "stuff." The gangrene had completely eaten away his scrotum, leaving his raw testicles exposed, not to mention every other tendon/muscle/tissue that exists down there. The outer layer of skin on his penis was also completely gone. I basically saw a man's groin with the flesh eaten away from it. I'm just gonna end this one now.
2. On the burn unit I once helped give post-mortum care to a patient who had died from a rare skin infection. The infection had eaten away most of the skin, even the eyelids and most of the nose, etc. As we began washing the body, we removed the dressings that covered nearly all of the patient's body. Since I was pregnant at the time, I had not worked with this patient much because the infection was so severe, and had therefore never seen the full extent of the infection. I was horrified to see, as we carefully removed the dressings, that the infection had eaten away not just the skin, but most of the flesh beneath it. All that remained was dead, rotten, gray-green tissue. Everywhere. Even the fingers and toes were black and shriveled. Dead. Everything was dead. And the smell of rotten flesh was almost unbearable. I couldn't eat that night. I had to block that one out of my mind for a long time. Even now I shiver just remembering it.
1. As a new CNA in a nursing home, I often got delegated the most undesirable tasks by the rest of the staff. One morning, a veteran CNA motioned for me to follow her down the hall. "I have something for you to do," she whispered, trying not to smile. We stopped at an open door to a room at the end of the hall. A morbidly obese woman sat in an oversized, automatic wheelchair at the center of the room. I raised my eyebrows in question, and the CNA just said, "Look closely." It was then I noticed the trail of diarrhea leading from the floor where we stood to the back of her wheelchair. My eyes followed the poop trail up the back of the wheelchair to where it was oozing out from between the woman's obese rear end and the cushion of the chair. "Oh," I said, having no idea where to begin. The only thing I knew about this patient was that she weighed over 400 lbs. and could barely stand on her own.
The CNA stifled another smile and began gathering supplies: a walker, gloves, a garbage can, and several boxes of wipes. She placed the walker in front of the woman, the garbage can off to the side of the wheelchair, and the gloves and wipes on a small bedside table. She bent down and removed two extra garbage bags from the garbage can and handed them to me. "Here," she said, "put these on your arms." I did as she said, still not understanding what to do as she tied the open ends of the bags securely around my upper arms. Then she handed me two pairs of latex gloves. "Put these on, too." A smile slowly spread across her face, and I realized what she expected me to do. In that moment I hated her for making me do what I was about to do, and I hated being the rookie CNA. She turned and walked out of the room, chuckling to herself as she went.
I then proceeded, grunting and straining, to assist the 400-lb. woman to stand up with her walker. Diarrhea slid down her legs and onto the floor as she stood. "Uh... lean forward on the walker," I instructed, as the woman apologized profusely for the situation. I felt bad for her, but I felt worse for me. I then removed her saturated pants and wiped down the poopy wheelchair as quickly as I could. Then I turned toward the real task at hand: her enormous rear end.
You see, the... uh, crack... of a 400-lb. person's rear end is not like that of a normal butt. It's like an 18-inch deep crevice with rolls and folds and hidden places like the unchartered territory of... oh, I don't know. It's just gross. So... I dove in, garbage-bagged arms and all. Again and again I reached in and pulled out handful after handful of poop. I was literally up to my face in poopy buttcrack.
Just as I was wiping the last of the diarrhea from her enormous bottom, she cried, "Oh no! Oh no! I have to go again! I'm so sorry-- I-- I'm going again! Oh nooooo..." and she then proceeded to poop again... all over everything I had just sacrificed my dignity to wipe clean. I could only stare in horror. I wanted to cry. But I didn't. I just rebagged my arms and did it all over again. These days, I would get paid over $20/hour as a nurse for torture like that. Back then, I only got $8/hour. At least I got a great story out of the experience. It's one of my favorites.
****
Most likely, all of you will agree that these experiences are utterly disgusting. If you don't, you are probably a nurse.
So, after all of this, I have still never even so much as gagged on the job. In fact, until last October, I had not vomited since I was 7 years old and had the stomach flu. An hour before I went into labor, I ate an entire frozen pizza because I hadn't eaten all day. I regretted it when, at 2 am and 4 cm, I barfed all of it into a toilet in the labor and delivery triage room. I was sad to give up my vomit-free streak of 15 years, but I was in labor and didn't really care.
Anyway, what I'm getting at is how ridiculous it is that I don't even gag over experiences like those in my Top 6, but other comparatively mild unpleasantries will nearly make me puke. Case in point: as I was composing my last post, my child crawled over to the sliding doors by the computer and began playing with the window blinds. I soon heard those unmistakable noises that always indicate he has something in his mouth. I snatched him up and opened his mouth, expecting to see a stray goldfish cracker or something. Instead, I found the large, partially-chewed torso of a dead bug!! It was large enough for me to notice the stripes on its belly and that it had only one giant leg still attached. "Ewwww!!!!" I shrieked, and flung the bug torso across the room. I gagged and considered bolting for the bathroom, but Joshua smiled widely and I saw another particle in the corner of his mouth... I plucked out another giant leg, shrieked loudly, and again flung it across the room. I could tell that he still had more bug in his mouth by the way he was still drooling and chewing, but before I could reach my finger in his mouth again he swallowed it!!!!! Ahhhhh!!! I nearly lost it. Joshua found all of this hilarious.
I must be messed up since I would prefer scooping diarrhea out of a 400-lb. woman's rear end to plucking a dead bug out of my child's mouth. Maybe I need help.
Monday, September 15, 2008
All I want for Christmas is a tandoor oven
The Indian food was a smashing success!! I feel a love affair with Indian food coming on. I can't wait to try more recipes! Jacob's only complaint was that I substituted half of the chicken with garbanzo beans (he didn't like the texture as much, although the flavor of the beans was great in this dish). I told him he should be thanking me for being so economically savvy; when a package of four little chicken breasts costs $6 at the grocery store, it only makes sense to cut the recipe requirements in half and substitute a can of beans (costing a mere 50 cents) for the protein. So here's the bottom line: garbanzo beans taste delicious with this recipe, but chicken tastes even better. It was such a tasty meal that I have decided to post the recipe for you all to try (here you go, Kaerlig). The recipes can be found on Allrecipes.com, but I did some slight variations that I think made the original recipes even better, so here is my version:
Curried Coconut Chicken
1 lb. boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1/2" pieces (original recipe calls for 2 lb. chicken)
1 can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
1/4 C extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. salt and pepper, or to taste
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
2 T curry powder
1 onion, thinly sliced and coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 (14-oz.) can coconut milk
1 (14.5-oz.) can diced tomatoes
1 (8-oz.) can tomato sauce
3 T brown sugar
1. In large skillet, stir together 2 T of the olive oil and curry powder on medium heat for 5 minutes. Reduce heat slightly and add onion, garlic, and the rest of the olive oil (or whatever amount of olive oil it takes to adequately coat the onions as they caramelize) and saute until onions are translucent and tender, stirring occasionally. Add other spices and diced tomatoes and cook 5 minutes longer.
2. Increase heat to medium and add chicken. Cook until center of chicken is no longer pink and juices run clear. Stir in coconut milk, tomato sauce, and sugar and reduce heat to medium-low, or whatever temperature keeps the sauce at a gentle simmer. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until sauce thickens. Stir in garbanzo beans and continue to simmer until beans are heated through.
3. Serve over white rice with garlic naan and mango lassi. DELICIOUS!!
(My changes: 1 lb. chicken, garbanzo beans, more olive oil, cayenne pepper, and in general cooking the dish at a lower heat and for a longer period of time. You can cook it at a higher heat and in a shorter amount of time, but the flavors will not be as rich. And the best part about this dish is that it fed Jacob and I for 3 meals!!! Oh how I love leftovers.)
The garlic naan also turned out well, although not as good as the naan I have eaten at Indian restaurants. I used the recipe on Allrecipes.com called "Naan" submitted by Mic. I just don't feel like typing it out. :) I added 1/2 tsp. of baking soda to the dough to help it form bubbles as it cooked. My suggestions are to roll out the naan as thin as possible, otherwise the weight of the dough causes the bubbles to deflate soon after cooking. I might even increase the garlic to 3 cloves next time, just because I love garlic so much. I also think I will knead in some chopped fresh cilantro when I knead in the garlic. This is a great naan recipe, but I think the only way to make a fantastic naan is to use a tandoor oven... and who has one of those??
Although I ran to the store at the last minute to buy some mangoes for the mango lassi, I decided not to make it because the mangoes were not ripe enough. I figured it would be better to be patient and have a sweet, delicious mango lassi later in the week rather than a tart, sour lassi with the Indian meal. I am planning on using the recipe entitled "Mango Lassi II" submitted by Yonna. It looks delicious!
If any of you have any great Indian or other ethnic recipes you'd like to share, do pass them along! I'm so utterly bored with my American recipe rotation that I'm making it my personal mission to introduce a variety of dishes into my weekly menu. Happy Cooking!
Curried Coconut Chicken
1 lb. boneless skinless chicken breasts, cut into 1/2" pieces (original recipe calls for 2 lb. chicken)
1 can garbanzo beans, drained and rinsed
1/4 C extra virgin olive oil
1 tsp. salt and pepper, or to taste
1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
2 T curry powder
1 onion, thinly sliced and coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 (14-oz.) can coconut milk
1 (14.5-oz.) can diced tomatoes
1 (8-oz.) can tomato sauce
3 T brown sugar
1. In large skillet, stir together 2 T of the olive oil and curry powder on medium heat for 5 minutes. Reduce heat slightly and add onion, garlic, and the rest of the olive oil (or whatever amount of olive oil it takes to adequately coat the onions as they caramelize) and saute until onions are translucent and tender, stirring occasionally. Add other spices and diced tomatoes and cook 5 minutes longer.
2. Increase heat to medium and add chicken. Cook until center of chicken is no longer pink and juices run clear. Stir in coconut milk, tomato sauce, and sugar and reduce heat to medium-low, or whatever temperature keeps the sauce at a gentle simmer. Simmer, stirring occasionally, until sauce thickens. Stir in garbanzo beans and continue to simmer until beans are heated through.
3. Serve over white rice with garlic naan and mango lassi. DELICIOUS!!
(My changes: 1 lb. chicken, garbanzo beans, more olive oil, cayenne pepper, and in general cooking the dish at a lower heat and for a longer period of time. You can cook it at a higher heat and in a shorter amount of time, but the flavors will not be as rich. And the best part about this dish is that it fed Jacob and I for 3 meals!!! Oh how I love leftovers.)
The garlic naan also turned out well, although not as good as the naan I have eaten at Indian restaurants. I used the recipe on Allrecipes.com called "Naan" submitted by Mic. I just don't feel like typing it out. :) I added 1/2 tsp. of baking soda to the dough to help it form bubbles as it cooked. My suggestions are to roll out the naan as thin as possible, otherwise the weight of the dough causes the bubbles to deflate soon after cooking. I might even increase the garlic to 3 cloves next time, just because I love garlic so much. I also think I will knead in some chopped fresh cilantro when I knead in the garlic. This is a great naan recipe, but I think the only way to make a fantastic naan is to use a tandoor oven... and who has one of those??
Although I ran to the store at the last minute to buy some mangoes for the mango lassi, I decided not to make it because the mangoes were not ripe enough. I figured it would be better to be patient and have a sweet, delicious mango lassi later in the week rather than a tart, sour lassi with the Indian meal. I am planning on using the recipe entitled "Mango Lassi II" submitted by Yonna. It looks delicious!
If any of you have any great Indian or other ethnic recipes you'd like to share, do pass them along! I'm so utterly bored with my American recipe rotation that I'm making it my personal mission to introduce a variety of dishes into my weekly menu. Happy Cooking!
Friday, September 12, 2008
I'll Have a Second Helping of That
A few months ago, I had an epiphany of sorts and began making a lot of changes in my diet. The results were instantly successful for me: I had more energy, my digestive process regulated itself, my skin started to clear up (those funky red bumps I've had on my upper arms my whole life?-- almost completely gone!), and I no longer felt like I had to take a nap every day.My dietary experimentation is still a work in progress, and I will just say this: it is so much fun!!!! I have been exploring all kinds of new recipes and trying my hand at different genres of food. Lately, my favorites have been Middle Eastern and Indian food. Last night I made Spicy Middle Eastern Beans and Rice. So easy, cheap, delicious, and healthy. Another new favorite of mine is Falafel with Cucumber Sauce. And on tonight's menu? Curried Coconut Chicken and Vegetables with Garlic Naan. I mean, I haven't even cooked it yet and I'm already so excited that I have to blog about it! Now I just need to figure out how to make a mango lassi or chai tea like they serve at the Bombay House. Ohhhh I am in heaven just thinking about all this delicious food. I don't expect to out-do a place like Bombay House, but I'll let y'all know how it turns out.
(Oh and by the way, I finally updated my playlist with some great new songs that I love right now. The first playlist was just something random I threw together when I first got into playlist.com. I like this one much better.)
Thursday, September 4, 2008
No Babies Allowed
Today was the first time I have ever felt truly embarrassed as a result of the actions of my child. I was browsing around a health food store; it was really small with two narrow aisles and a small area in front of the check-out counter. To me, a health food store is roughly the equivalent of a Barnes & Noble bookstore: I can get lost in it for hours, lose track of time, and apparently lose track of what my child is doing at every moment.I was weaving up and down the aisles, pushing Joshua in a stroller, not really planning on buying anything, and pleasantly dreaming about the day when I will have my own arsenal of herbs, supplements, and other remedies in my home. A lady standing in the front of the store said, "Oh! Somebody get a paper towel!" I looked down and saw a large puddle of clear liquid and a broken bottle. Joshua looked up at me innocently-- the obvious culprit. The woman behind the counter ran over and I handed her the broken bottle. "I am so sorry," was all I could think of to say. She didn't say anything; she was obviously upset. I just stood there and said "I'm sorry" a few more times as she mopped up the liquid in cold silence. Joshua had chosen a rather expensive item to destroy-- a bottle of potassium water. It doesn't sound like much, but it's quite pricey. There was no way I was about to offer to pay for it, so I waited for the woman to pull out the "You Break It You Buy It" card. I figured it was her job to fix situations like this one, so I said nothing more except an additional apology, and I continued my browsing.
The woman was watching my every move now. Feeling slightly guilty about the accident, I decided I had better purchase something. I picked up a bottle of organic peanut butter (that stuff is delicious) and headed down the last aisle to check out a few more things before deciding what to buy. The moment I stopped the stroller, Joshua's little hands went flying to the nearest object, which happened to be a small glass bottle of an herbal extract. I saw it as soon as she did and went to grab his hand away, but the woman dashed out from behind the counter with lightning speed and stood protectively in front of the items on display. "I'm sorry," she said, in a tight voice that was choked with frustration, "but I'm going to have to ask you to leave the aisles."
Leave the aisles? There was nowhere else to go in the store! As she stared me down, still standing protectively in the aisle, I realized she was asking me to leave. I looked at the floor and walked up to the counter. I handed her the peanut butter and my debit card, but she rolled her eyes and pointed to a hand-written sign on the cash register: "No credit cards for purchases under $10." I fumbled through my wallet for a small eternity and handed her the cash. Wordlessly, she shoved the receipt toward me without giving me my change. "Thanks," I mumbled, and hurried out the door.
Maybe I was feeling particularly sensitive today, but for some reason I felt so awful about the entire experience. I know it's not really a big deal. Heck, if she really wanted me to pay for the broken item she could have asked. I would not have protested. At least it wasn't something truly valuable, like, I don't know... an urn filled with a loved-one's ashes or something. But I'm beginning to understand why my mother taught me not to judge other moms because of their children. As I grew up the oldest of 5 children, she taught me that nothing is ever really perfect or predictable after you have kids. How right she was.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Talissa
The last 36 hours have been somewhat of a drag. After making the decision to work the extended season (September) in Florida, I took the car in yesterday morning for an oil change and a tire repair in preparation for the 23 hours of driving ahead. While I was sitting in the waiting area (reading The Host; now that I've finished the Twilight series I needed to fill the void with more Stephenie Meyer), my reading was interrupted by a man in a greasy mechanic uniform who asked me how to put the car in reverse. I explained how to do it, and he laughed and said they had already tried everything they could think of but it still wouldn't work. He waved it off and told me he wanted to watch me do it after they were finished with the car.
To my dismay, I could not put the car in reverse. I also could not put the car into first, second, or fifth gear either. So I puttered home in third and fourth gears only (I didn't even stall... I must be amazing at driving stick) and broke the bad news to Jake when I arrived home: our transmission was out. Then commenced a day of car shopping, calling friends for advice about cars, crunching numbers to see what we could afford, and debating what to do in general now that we had no reliable form of transportation. To make a LONG story short, we have to drop a couple hundred bucks to fix up the car (luckily the damage wasn't as bad as we thought... we were initially told it would cost $4000 to fix it) and we will not be buying another vehicle. Those poor used car salesmen must be disappointed (they've been calling us all day).
Anyway, by tonight we were both tired of talking about cars and car payments and ready for a little comic relief. It came by way of a text message to my phone from a number I did not recognize. The text message was clearly not meant for me, and it was clearly sent by a teenage girl. Jacob's characteristic look of "this is going to be so funny" immediately lit up his face. I already felt bad for the poor girl, but I could not deny my conniving husband the opportunity for a good laugh. It's a good thing I let him have his fun, because this will certainly go down in our history of Funniest Things Ever:
Talissa: Hey its talissa why were u mad at me??
Jacob: R u kidding me?
Talissa: No why were u mad at me!
Jacob: I don't have time 4 this. how could i not be! its like... omg just forget it- it doesnt matter
Talissa: Fine jes sorry i asked!!!!!!!
Jacob: Dont be like that, youre mean
Talissa: Well then dont be mean 2 me!
Jacob: Fine! why did you sleep with my boyfriend?
Talissa: What r u talking about! R u kiding me that is so stuiped!
Jacob: im not that mad about it cause i think im a lesbian and i want you to love me
Talissa: O my god! ? what?
(Katie: JACOB!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER??? That is so mean!!! Give me the phone!!! **tackles Jacob unsuccessfully; Jacob is laughing hysterically** END IT NOW!!!)
Jacob: Talissa- you should check this number again, are you so sure that this is who you think it is?
Talissa: Ya! really r u gay or sterate
(Katie: Tell her, "Yes, I am definitely straight and you definitely have the wrong number." You better end this right now Jacob!!! I'm serious!! Do you realize what you could be doing to this poor girl?!?!?
Jacob: Okay okay okay, I'll end it now. **chuckling to himself, he turns away from me and hurriedly sends Talissa a response**)
Jacob: I just want you to love me
(Katie: Let me see what you told her.
Jacob: I said, "I just want you to love me."
Katie: WHAT?!?!?! ARE YOU CRAZY!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!??? **hits Jacob on the arm and again tries in vain to take the phone away from him**)
Talissa: Why.....
(Katie: You better end this now. **Jacob just laughs**)
Jacob: You have the wrong number talissa
Talissa: What ev gtg
(Katie: Okay, GIVE ME THE PHONE. Poor girl... **Jacob is rolling on the floor laughing... literally**)
Katie: No seriously, u have had the wrong number this entire time.
... And that was the last we heard from Talissa. I started to worry that she never responded after that, but Jacob assured me that it was a sign she had finally discovered her error and was now utterly mortified. Out of my sense of duty to protect the feelings of others (especially poor, unsuspecting teenage girls)-- the duty which Jacob seems to ignore at times of humorous convenience-- I chided Jacob numerous times for his evil doings. What if poor Talissa now thinks her friend is a lesbian and wants to love her? The possibilities for harm are endless with this one, but hopefully she learned her lesson: never rely on something as impersonal as text messaging to carry on intimate conversations.
We both had a good laugh; so good, in fact, that I had to take some time away from packing and cleaning to blog about it. Oh and by the way, all the spelling and words are verbatim from the actual text messages... which is half the reason why it was so funny. The other half being, of course, that Jacob managed to completely mess with poor Talissa's mind.
At any rate, we are off to Florida tomorrow as soon as the car is fixed. We figured if we are going to extend, we might as well go somewhere fun (because let's face it: Missouri is great, but it doesn't have any tropical beaches). I'll send a postcard. :)
To my dismay, I could not put the car in reverse. I also could not put the car into first, second, or fifth gear either. So I puttered home in third and fourth gears only (I didn't even stall... I must be amazing at driving stick) and broke the bad news to Jake when I arrived home: our transmission was out. Then commenced a day of car shopping, calling friends for advice about cars, crunching numbers to see what we could afford, and debating what to do in general now that we had no reliable form of transportation. To make a LONG story short, we have to drop a couple hundred bucks to fix up the car (luckily the damage wasn't as bad as we thought... we were initially told it would cost $4000 to fix it) and we will not be buying another vehicle. Those poor used car salesmen must be disappointed (they've been calling us all day).
Anyway, by tonight we were both tired of talking about cars and car payments and ready for a little comic relief. It came by way of a text message to my phone from a number I did not recognize. The text message was clearly not meant for me, and it was clearly sent by a teenage girl. Jacob's characteristic look of "this is going to be so funny" immediately lit up his face. I already felt bad for the poor girl, but I could not deny my conniving husband the opportunity for a good laugh. It's a good thing I let him have his fun, because this will certainly go down in our history of Funniest Things Ever:
Talissa: Hey its talissa why were u mad at me??
Jacob: R u kidding me?
Talissa: No why were u mad at me!
Jacob: I don't have time 4 this. how could i not be! its like... omg just forget it- it doesnt matter
Talissa: Fine jes sorry i asked!!!!!!!
Jacob: Dont be like that, youre mean
Talissa: Well then dont be mean 2 me!
Jacob: Fine! why did you sleep with my boyfriend?
Talissa: What r u talking about! R u kiding me that is so stuiped!
Jacob: im not that mad about it cause i think im a lesbian and i want you to love me
Talissa: O my god! ? what?
(Katie: JACOB!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO HER??? That is so mean!!! Give me the phone!!! **tackles Jacob unsuccessfully; Jacob is laughing hysterically** END IT NOW!!!)
Jacob: Talissa- you should check this number again, are you so sure that this is who you think it is?
Talissa: Ya! really r u gay or sterate
(Katie: Tell her, "Yes, I am definitely straight and you definitely have the wrong number." You better end this right now Jacob!!! I'm serious!! Do you realize what you could be doing to this poor girl?!?!?
Jacob: Okay okay okay, I'll end it now. **chuckling to himself, he turns away from me and hurriedly sends Talissa a response**)
Jacob: I just want you to love me
(Katie: Let me see what you told her.
Jacob: I said, "I just want you to love me."
Katie: WHAT?!?!?! ARE YOU CRAZY!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!??? **hits Jacob on the arm and again tries in vain to take the phone away from him**)
Talissa: Why.....
(Katie: You better end this now. **Jacob just laughs**)
Jacob: You have the wrong number talissa
Talissa: What ev gtg
(Katie: Okay, GIVE ME THE PHONE. Poor girl... **Jacob is rolling on the floor laughing... literally**)
Katie: No seriously, u have had the wrong number this entire time.
... And that was the last we heard from Talissa. I started to worry that she never responded after that, but Jacob assured me that it was a sign she had finally discovered her error and was now utterly mortified. Out of my sense of duty to protect the feelings of others (especially poor, unsuspecting teenage girls)-- the duty which Jacob seems to ignore at times of humorous convenience-- I chided Jacob numerous times for his evil doings. What if poor Talissa now thinks her friend is a lesbian and wants to love her? The possibilities for harm are endless with this one, but hopefully she learned her lesson: never rely on something as impersonal as text messaging to carry on intimate conversations.
We both had a good laugh; so good, in fact, that I had to take some time away from packing and cleaning to blog about it. Oh and by the way, all the spelling and words are verbatim from the actual text messages... which is half the reason why it was so funny. The other half being, of course, that Jacob managed to completely mess with poor Talissa's mind.
At any rate, we are off to Florida tomorrow as soon as the car is fixed. We figured if we are going to extend, we might as well go somewhere fun (because let's face it: Missouri is great, but it doesn't have any tropical beaches). I'll send a postcard. :)
Monday, August 25, 2008
I think I feel an Obsession coming on...
It all started about two hours ago when I googled "forks washington." My intent was to catch a glimpse of the vampire haven that my imagination lives in these days; Forks, Washington, has become my imagination's home-away-from-home of sorts. Turns out that Forks is quite hospitable, as it has provided the inner workings of my mind with endless hours of vampire-human-love-story fantasies (even after I finished the books).
All it took was a few clicks of the mouse away from the home page of Forks and I was hopelessly lost in everything that is Twilight... photo galleries, media clips, blogs, news updates... and I shamelessly indulged in all of it for two hours. While I do not feel the slightest twinge of guilt, I am starting to feel something else... feelings I have suppressed since I gave up my obsession with Hanson when I was 13. Of course, I can't really compare this to Hanson. No... Hanson was too immature, too fleating, too... blonde. This new obsession is much more mysterious, more haunting, more romantic. And it's not really an obsession. It's more like an indulgence into the part of me that will always be 17, the part of me that would rather write stories than cook dinner, the part of me that still believes in fairy tale love. Having experienced it myself (minus the intense bloodlust and inter-species complications), I feel somewhat connected to the story of Bella and Edward. So it may not be an obsession after all, but I'm not gonna lie: Twilight rocks my world.
All it took was a few clicks of the mouse away from the home page of Forks and I was hopelessly lost in everything that is Twilight... photo galleries, media clips, blogs, news updates... and I shamelessly indulged in all of it for two hours. While I do not feel the slightest twinge of guilt, I am starting to feel something else... feelings I have suppressed since I gave up my obsession with Hanson when I was 13. Of course, I can't really compare this to Hanson. No... Hanson was too immature, too fleating, too... blonde. This new obsession is much more mysterious, more haunting, more romantic. And it's not really an obsession. It's more like an indulgence into the part of me that will always be 17, the part of me that would rather write stories than cook dinner, the part of me that still believes in fairy tale love. Having experienced it myself (minus the intense bloodlust and inter-species complications), I feel somewhat connected to the story of Bella and Edward. So it may not be an obsession after all, but I'm not gonna lie: Twilight rocks my world.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Boring Catch-Up
Well, I have 2 other posts saved in my drafts folder just waiting to be published. I'm not sure they ever will be, because apparently I can't get around to finishing them (they're both long). So here's a boring catch-up post... one of the reasons that this blog is really boring except to those who know me. :)
Let's see, what have I been doing?.... hmm... oh yes, falling in love with a vampire. I have been neglecting my child in favor of Edward and Bella in the Twilight series. I'm on the third book already, and Kylee and I have had much to gossip about since she is reading them, too. Amazing how we can get so excited about a fictional story. I guess that's what happens when you stay at home for 90% of your waking hours... you have to let your imagination run wild sometimes. :) Oh, and I have decided that I want to write a novel so I can be a multimillionaire like J. K. Rowling and Stephenie Meyer. How hard can it be to create a new story that everyone and their grandmother falls in love with?? Hmmm...
Every night at approximately 7 pm I make the 20 second trip to Kylee's apartment to watch the OLYMPICS!!! I do love the Olympics. At one point it was my dream to be on top of the podium like Nastia Liukin was the other night (that dream only lasted a few years lol), so I guess you could say I'm having my Olympic dreams fulfilled when I watch athletes like her. However, has anyone else noticed how much the judges favor the Chinese????? Holy crap!!! Even the untrained eye can see that some of those Chinese gymnasts' scores were WAY too high compared to other gymnasts who were consistently performing better than they were. And they're all 13 anyway, so they shouldn't even be competing... now I DO sound like a "blogger." lol
And let's not forget the daily joys of deliberation these days. Jacob and I are trying to figure out what to do... with everything, it seems. Do we stay and work the extended season? Do we move and work the extended season? Do we sign on for next summer? Do we go back home? Where will we live when we get there? Where will we work when we get there? Does Jacob go to school when we get there? How much should I work when we get there? How will we coordinate our schedules? And on and on and on and on. Needless to say, we don't exactly have the answers to ANY of those questions at this point. Wish us luck!
In the meantime, I am trying to keep up with Joshua and his growing and exploring. I have noticed a difference in my back lately... it seems to hurt more now that I have to pick him up constantly and remove him from mischief or bodily harm. The ONLY thing he wants to do when he's awake is stand up. Stand up, fall down, stand up, fall down, repeat all day long. Of course he does take a break now and then to turbo crawl around the apartment and see what he can put in his mouth or destroy. I've got to get in better shape before he starts walking. But it's such a fun stage right now; I wouldn't trade it for anything!
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
It's Over!
The NCLEX is OVER!!!
First of all, I slept horribly last night. I woke up twice from Jacob talking in his sleep. I woke up twice from the loud thunderstorm. I woke up many times to look at the clock to make sure I hadn't overslept (I haven't woken up before 8 am in ages... well, since I graduated anyway. It feels like ages!). I tossed and turned all night long as I suffered through a night of lame dreams that mostly involved 1. forgetting to bring my ATT (Authorization To Test) 2. bringing the ATT and discovering it had been printed incorrectly and was thus unacceptable 3. getting lost on my way there and detouring into Kansas (which actually happened when I went to find the testing center last week) 4. stopping at a copy center on my way there to print off the ATT and running into Matthew McConaughey, who wouldn't let me leave because he wanted to practice his wit and charm on me, which I found to be intensely annoying and which made me even more late for the exam.
So I woke up exhausted and irritated from a night of ridiculous, exasperating dreams... but at least I woke up on time, remembered to bring my correctly-printed ATT, and found the testing center easily and in a timely fashion. I was one of the last people to be escorted to a computer for my test, and I was one of the first to leave! I breezed pretty quickly through the minimum 75 questions (well, it still took about 90 minutes) and I felt pretty good about the whole thing. I was pleasantly surprised that there were relatively few questions that contained content I had never heard of. However, I did get a ridiculous number of the "select all that apply" questions, which I despise (it's like having to answer 5 or 6 true/false questions all in one! no partial credit given!). I did feel legitimately confused on many of the questions (as a result of constantly having to choose which RIGHT answer is BEST- ugh), so I'm just going to hope for the best!!!
Tomorrow I'm off to Nauvoo with my little family and David/Kylee/Hartman/Dallin. Then Joshua and I head off to the Ozarks for a massive Geddes family reunion that has been planned for two years. Good times are ahead (but probably little blogging)!!!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
It All Comes Down to This...
I'm taking the NCLEX tomorrow!!!!!!
Much has led up to this point: 5 years of college. Burning the candle at both ends for most of those years. Busting my brains to get scholarships. Working hundreds of clinical hours worth *zero* credits (and no pay) for the sake of learning. Subjecting my infant child to 24+ hours of babysitting every week during the 3rd-6th months of his life. Eating out of the SWKT vending machines for several meals on class days. BS-ing enough "reflective writings" to substitute writing in my journal for the rest of my life. Being a zombie of a wife for at least 6 days out of the week during school. Going straight to work for a night shift after doing school all day. Going straight to school for the day after working all night. And last but not least... jumping through every hoop placed before me by the BYU College of Nursing. I don't expect anyone besides my fellow BYU CON alumni to understand that last one. :)
I've done over 5,000 practice questions (that I can remember... there's probably been more). I've pushed myself for 5 years now to be the best student I can be, so I'm going to take this stupid test and PASS IT tomorrow!!!! Yeahhhhhhh!
Thursday, July 17, 2008
The Dilemma
Every time I sit down to blog, I experience a dilemma of sorts: What the heck do I blog about?? There are a number of reasons for this recurrent scenario, and ironically enough one of them is NOT that I can't think of anything to say... it's more a matter of choosing which of my thoughts to publish in cyberspace for the rest of the world to read. Anyone who even remotely knows me can understand that I am never short of deep thoughts or random ponderings. It's just that there are a lot of things I think, feel, and believe that I just don't feel like sharing with the world.
Anyway, blah blah blah, right? So today, to solve my blogging dilemma, I going to do another tag... yet again. :) For some reason it's easier to do those than to decide which of my thoughts to publish for the day. So thanks, Jessica, for doing the tag and subsequently inspiring me to do it too. :)
10 years ago: The summer I turned 13. Oh yes, that was a good summer! I flew out to Arizona all by myself and lived with one of my best friends- Barbara- and her family for a month! We had a blast going to girls camp, going on hikes, watching movies, and doing whatever 13-year old girls do best. Later that summer, I went to a Hanson concert in Milwaukee, WI, with two of my other really good friends- Annie and Sara. I was SO fun, I'm not gonna lie. We were all obsessed with Hanson so it was a dream come true of sorts. And I really wanted to marry Taylor Hanson at the time, so to see him rocking out on his keyboards onstage was about all I could think about for the rest of that summer.
5 years ago: The summer I turned 18. I had just graduated from high school and I was working two jobs... 12 hour shifts at the nursing home on Mon-Wed, then 6 or 8 hour shifts at the waterpark Thu-Sat. I was so busy and I had a wicked awesome tan. I was also involved in an excessive amount of relationship drama with my highschool boyfriend, Matt. This resulted in more crying, DTRs, and lectures from my parents than I EVER care to experience again. Thank goodness I left for college at the end of the summer!
5 months ago: February 2008. Joshua was turning 4 months old. This month was significant because it was the first and only time that Joshua has been sick (so far), and it was also the last time that he woke up during the middle of the night. It's a beautiful thing. I was also insanely busy with my last semester of nursing school, working part time, and being a wife and mother. I am SO glad that's over.
5 things on my "to do" list:
1. Pass the NCLEX next Friday!!!!!
2. Learn more vegetarian recipes
3. Call some friends I haven't talked to in a long time
4. Pay the rest of this month's bills
5. Play with Joshua every day (as in not do ANYthing else at the same time, which I am really good at doing! What mother isn't amazing at multitasking??)
5 of my favorite snacks:
1. smoothies
2. crackers and cheese
3. Tostitos multigrain chips (soooo good)
4. Kashi cereal with Rice Dream milk (delicious)
5. carrots and ranch dip
5 purchases:
1. diapers, wipes, and formula (always)
2. windshield wipers for the car (it cost $450... you heard me right. The motor was shot. It's ridiculous, I know.)
3. rechargeable batteries (it's about time!)
4. family "portrait" at Wal-mart (I do NOT recommend this. haha. Good thing it only cost me $3.99. I refuse to pay a lot of money for pictures I could take better myself with the timer thingie on my digital camera. Now we have a gazillion copies of a "portrait" that looks horrible, with the exception of Joshua, of course. He actually looks really good. It's the ONE redeeming quality of the experience! haha I guess I could blog about hilarious stories like THAT one. Oh wow that was a good one...)
5. New pajamas for Joshua
5 places I've lived:
1. Minnesota
2. Wisconsin
3. Idaho
4. Utah
5. Missouri
5 things you may not know about me: (I might run out of these if I keep doing tags. haha)
1. I have recently become a vegetarian. I am actually really enjoying this. Probably because I will still eat salmon, which I love and crave all the time.
2. I am a fan of Ron Paul. I would vote for him if given the chance. However, this is tragically unlikely.
3. I still use an email address I set up when I was 14.
4. I snuck a boy over to my house when I was 13 while my family was out trick-or-treating on Halloween. We sat on the couch and talked, and then got caught. I know, it was so rebellious.
5. I can't remember the last time I let my toenails go unpainted. It's probably the only part of my "beauty regime" that persists no matter my life circumstance.
5 best friends throughout my life: (well, I have lots of great friends, but I guess "throughout my life" will have to narrow it down a bit.)
1. Jacob. He tops my list because I do believe in "soul mates" in one form or another. I can't really explain why or how I believe it to be true, but I feel like I've known him forever.
2. Gina. My sister and I have been so close growing up together. She is so loyal and unconditionally loving to me. I love this girl!!!
3. Barbara. We've literally known each other since birth, and we wrote letters for years and years since we didn't live near each other. We still don't live close by, but we have a strong friendship and a special bond that has weathered the distance and the years.
4. Annie. We were childhood best friends, growing up a few houses away and doing everything together. We are SO different in so many ways, and yet we've remained close friends.
5. Nicole. We have the "same brain," I swear. We became close friends in elementary school/middle school and when she came to visit me last month, we realized that even after not seeing each other for 7 years we still have an incredible friendship.
(I hate to end this list now because there are so many other friends I have met and grown close to in my life!! Many friends I didn't meet until high school or college and I love them dearly. Oh well, on to the next item!)
5 things I love:
1. My marriage. I am a very, very lucky girl.
2. Joshua! What can I say... being his mommy is the best thing ever. I love love love that little boy.
3. Joshua's sleeping habits. Seriously, I love being well-rested and having plently of time to myself and with my spouse. And I still spend tons of time with Joshua, so I'm pretty content with it all!!
4. Having meaningful conversations with Jacob, my family, or my friends
5. Learning new things, accomplishing things, meeting my goals, challenging myself, and thinking outside the box
Again, this list could go on and on. :) But that's all for now.
Thursday, July 3, 2008
Okay Fiiiiiiine...
I'll do an update already!!! With everything that has happened in the month of June, it's no wonder I haven't blogged in ages:
1. Jake flew to UT for his grandpa Andersen's funeral. I stayed home and got to be husbandless for a few days.
2. I shopped EVERYWHERE for little baby boy Sunday clothes and found none. Not even a white collar shirt! This was part of my preparations to fly out to UT for...
3. My sister's wedding! It was so fun to be there and watch her and Rob tie the knot. Gina was absolutely stunning and I must say weddings are a lot of fun when you don't have to plan them. (Joshua ended up borrowing baby Hartman's Sunday clothes for the wedding, which he despised wearing and which were too small anyway. He looked pretty handsome though!)
4. I spent the week after the wedding up in ID with my family. I had a blast hanging out with my two youngest sisters and my parents! And they, of course, adored Joshua and gave him all the attention he could possibly get in the week we were there.
5. I had a follow-up appointment for my Lasik surgery and found out I now have 20/15 vision! I'm pretty excited about that after wearing glasses and contacts for 12 years. Best money I ever spent. :)
6. One of my best friends from MN-- Nicole-- came to visit me for 5 days! We had an amazing time together and it's crazy how close we are after not seeing each other for 7 years. Some of the things we did... Shakespeare Festival, Bodies Revealed, drive-in movie (saw Get Smart- sooo funny!), Cheesecake Factory, Buffalo Wild Wings, River Market, shopping, lounging at the pool, etc etc. It was SO fun and I wish she would come back already!!!
7. I'm also studying for the NCLEX every free second I get (okay, not EVERY free second... obviously). :)
So there you have my excuses for ditching the blogosphere for a little while. And now it's 1:59 pm and I need to wake Joshua up at 2:00 pm so I can go grocery shopping. Here are some pictures from June! ... Okay just kidding my computer is being lame and won't let me upload any more pics than that first one. Oh well.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
A Break From Domestic Duties
I have been cooking, cleaning, and childrearing a LOT and now I need a break to blog. So I hereby tag myself from someone else's blog as an excuse to be frivolous and lazy, even if it is just for 10 minutes. Here goes.
4 Jobs I have had:
1. Math tutor
2. Life guard
3. Telemarketer
4. Nurse (by far the best of all of those)
4 Movies I have watched more than once:
1. My Big Fat Greek Wedding
2. The Princess Bride
3. It's a Wonderful Life
4. "Fruit Cocktail" (This is a home video of me throwing a tantrum as a child. Only my family really understands how funny this is.)
4 Places I have lived:
1. La Crescent, MN
2. Boise, ID
3. Provo, UT
4. Kansas City, MO
4 TV shows I watch:
1. The Office
2. American Idol
3. uhh...
4. uhh... (we don't have TV right now.)
4 Places I have been:
1. Seattle, WA
2. New York, NY
3. Puerto Vallarta, MX
4. Las Vegas, NV
4 People who text me regularly:
1. Jake
2. Nate (He never calls. Must be a teenager thing.)
3. Keri/APX wives
4. hmm... I really don't text a lot
4 of my Favorite foods:
1. grilled salmon
2. tomato basil soup (my own)
3. cheese pizza
4. dessert (I pretty much love them all)
4 Places I would like to visit:
1. Hawaii
2. Egypt
3. New Zealand
4. Italy
4 Things I am looking forward to in the coming year:
1. pursuing interests other than nursing school
2. reaching financial goals
3. road tripping after the summer is over (in other words, we don't have a place to live! It will be exciting!)
4. going on a cruise
4 Friends I am tagging:
Any of you wives and mothers who just want a break!! :)
I'm feeling especially indulgent today, so I'm going to do ANOTHER tag!
1. How long have you been married? 2 years, 1 month, and 5 days
2. How old is your spouse? 27
3. Who eats more? he does, for sure
4. Who said I love you first? he did, on our fourth date. I said it shortly thereafter.
5. Who is taller? he is, by 9 inches
6. Who sings better? we're both pretty average, but if we had to sing solos, I think I could come up with something slightly better. Well, maybe not. :)
7. Who is smarter? Academically... me. Otherwise we're pretty much on equal ground.
8. Who controls the TV remote? Actually, I do. When Jake watches TV, he endlessly surfs the channels and inevitably selects the most stupid, ridiculous show for a few minutes before moving on to more surfing. This drives me crazy, so I control the remote whenever I can.
9. Whose temper is worse? We are both very calm people, but my fuse is shorter.
10. Who does the laundry? Jake does his own laundry! I do the rest. This was established shortly after we were married when I washed his favorite hat and accidentally ruined it. It was brilliant, I know. ;-)
11. Who does the dishes? I do. But Jake always helps if I ask him to.
12. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? If you are standing at the foot of the bed and looking at it... Jake does.
13. Who cooks dinner? I do. Again, Jake will help if I ask him to, but he's usually at work anyway.
14. Who is more stubborn? Probably me again. But I'm not that bad.
15. Who is the first to admit that they are wrong? There is no "right" or "wrong" for us. As Jake would say, "There is only truth." Hard to explain. :)
16. Whose parents do you see the most? Jake's mom. Occasionally, when his dad is in the country, we see him too. haha
17. Who has more friends? We both have a lot. But Jake is better at keeping in touch with his. He also has the advantage of most of his friends living close by, so this fact probably sways the question in his favor. My good friends are all over the place, and I don't see many of them too often.
18. Who has more siblings? Jake wins this one with 7 (5 living).
19. Who wears the pants in the family? We both wear pants, and they look dang good on us. (That is both literal and metaphorical.) haha
Again, I hereby tag anyone who wants to escape into the blogosphere for a few minutes. This diversion has been fun, but now it's back to real life for me.
4 Jobs I have had:
1. Math tutor
2. Life guard
3. Telemarketer
4. Nurse (by far the best of all of those)
4 Movies I have watched more than once:
1. My Big Fat Greek Wedding
2. The Princess Bride
3. It's a Wonderful Life
4. "Fruit Cocktail" (This is a home video of me throwing a tantrum as a child. Only my family really understands how funny this is.)
4 Places I have lived:
1. La Crescent, MN
2. Boise, ID
3. Provo, UT
4. Kansas City, MO
4 TV shows I watch:
1. The Office
2. American Idol
3. uhh...
4. uhh... (we don't have TV right now.)
4 Places I have been:
1. Seattle, WA
2. New York, NY
3. Puerto Vallarta, MX
4. Las Vegas, NV
4 People who text me regularly:
1. Jake
2. Nate (He never calls. Must be a teenager thing.)
3. Keri/APX wives
4. hmm... I really don't text a lot
4 of my Favorite foods:
1. grilled salmon
2. tomato basil soup (my own)
3. cheese pizza
4. dessert (I pretty much love them all)
4 Places I would like to visit:
1. Hawaii
2. Egypt
3. New Zealand
4. Italy
4 Things I am looking forward to in the coming year:
1. pursuing interests other than nursing school
2. reaching financial goals
3. road tripping after the summer is over (in other words, we don't have a place to live! It will be exciting!)
4. going on a cruise
4 Friends I am tagging:
Any of you wives and mothers who just want a break!! :)
I'm feeling especially indulgent today, so I'm going to do ANOTHER tag!
1. How long have you been married? 2 years, 1 month, and 5 days
2. How old is your spouse? 27
3. Who eats more? he does, for sure
4. Who said I love you first? he did, on our fourth date. I said it shortly thereafter.
5. Who is taller? he is, by 9 inches
6. Who sings better? we're both pretty average, but if we had to sing solos, I think I could come up with something slightly better. Well, maybe not. :)
7. Who is smarter? Academically... me. Otherwise we're pretty much on equal ground.
8. Who controls the TV remote? Actually, I do. When Jake watches TV, he endlessly surfs the channels and inevitably selects the most stupid, ridiculous show for a few minutes before moving on to more surfing. This drives me crazy, so I control the remote whenever I can.
9. Whose temper is worse? We are both very calm people, but my fuse is shorter.
10. Who does the laundry? Jake does his own laundry! I do the rest. This was established shortly after we were married when I washed his favorite hat and accidentally ruined it. It was brilliant, I know. ;-)
11. Who does the dishes? I do. But Jake always helps if I ask him to.
12. Who sleeps on the right side of the bed? If you are standing at the foot of the bed and looking at it... Jake does.
13. Who cooks dinner? I do. Again, Jake will help if I ask him to, but he's usually at work anyway.
14. Who is more stubborn? Probably me again. But I'm not that bad.
15. Who is the first to admit that they are wrong? There is no "right" or "wrong" for us. As Jake would say, "There is only truth." Hard to explain. :)
16. Whose parents do you see the most? Jake's mom. Occasionally, when his dad is in the country, we see him too. haha
17. Who has more friends? We both have a lot. But Jake is better at keeping in touch with his. He also has the advantage of most of his friends living close by, so this fact probably sways the question in his favor. My good friends are all over the place, and I don't see many of them too often.
18. Who has more siblings? Jake wins this one with 7 (5 living).
19. Who wears the pants in the family? We both wear pants, and they look dang good on us. (That is both literal and metaphorical.) haha
Again, I hereby tag anyone who wants to escape into the blogosphere for a few minutes. This diversion has been fun, but now it's back to real life for me.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Motherhood 101, part 5
THE LITTLE THINGS
The best part of being a mom is the little things... those moments that make me smile and remind me that I am the luckiest girl in the world. These are only a few of them.
I love watching my two boys together. They are absolutely adorable. There is nothing better than having a happy family.
Joshua is always so happy to be alive and to discover the world around him. It makes me happy just to be a part of it all.
He got a kick out of Daddy's hat!
He spent several minutes trying to get this carrot out of the grass. He kept coming up with a handful of grass! It was so funny to watch him get frustrated and try, try again. He finally got the carrot and for the next hour or two, Joshua and his carrot were inseperable!!
This one is my favorite. I set Joshua down to play after mealtime. He was so content just to sit there in the sunlight and play with his toys, and he was talking and singing to himself. Then I noticed that his little buttcheeks were showing so I snuck up behind him to snap a picture. At the last moment he turned around and gave me the most pure, genuine smile. I swear, this child knows a thing or two about happiness, love, and contentment. I am very fortunate that my days are filled with moments like these. I can't get enough of my little boy!
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