...this obsession I have with Grey's Anatomy. Those people are my friends. Meredith is my sick, twisted big sister and McDreamy is the boyfriend I never knew I always wanted. I just watched the best Grey's episode which reminds me why I started watching Grey's in the first place.
Watch it.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
The guy in every relationship
This article is exactly why I'm not ready for a relationship. Haha...came across it and thought I would share.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Silence the cynics.
Today was a day of firsts, and in honor of those firsts, I would like to say "God Bless America."
Congrats, President Obama!
Congrats, President Obama!
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Wound Up
Sometimes I find myself in this state. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, there is no hope for me to sleep, so I find myself becoming involved in a project. Most of the time, it’s cleaning…but since I spent the night last night writing and cleaning my apartment, it’s time for a blog.
This happens after I have had an entire day of stimulation – today I worked really early until really late, on deadline and swamped with writing all day. I had physical therapy for two hours and Corey (my therapist) started me on strengthening exercises that are far more tiring than the stretching I have been doing for the past five weeks. It’s like going to the gym in the middle of the day. Then I visited with my best friends over enchiladas, beer and reality TV, talking about our lives and laughing at the crazy people on TV. I just wrapped up an hour and a half conversation with my mom and it felt great to get a lot off my chest and have her tell me that things will work themselves out.
I honestly believe it, too. I have been struggling with a few things lately, namely people who turned out to be different than what I expected. Not good, not bad – just different. I began to question myself when I was with this person, which is never something I want to do. A long time ago, I came to the conclusion that I wouldn’t compromise myself for another and in a lot of ways, I feel like that’s what’s happening in this relationship.
I admit, a lot of how I am feeling stems from guilt that I feel and the problem I have with coming out and admitting that there is a problem. Most times, I feel myself begin to tell every one but the person that I am affecting the most about the issue, which backfires and often turns into more than what I originally intended.
I guess what I am trying to say in all of this is that I have come to a certain point in my life – a point of contentment. I am content in my life as it is now – the being busy most times, enjoying friends, new and old, school, work, meeting new people and having my own things that I love to do. My only fear now is letting down my guard long enough to give another person a shot at being what I need. In the end, that’s the only way to true contentment – being comfortable with yourself enough to truly give another person what there is of you, good or bad. I guess what I need is to know that this will happen – or whether I need to MAKE this happen for myself. Do you wake up one day and decide that you will be more flexible and stop finding fault in things long enough to make yourself vulnerable to another person? When is it right? How do you know? Does something just click?
Rhetorical questions to the universe.
And my mom says I look at the glass half full. A little over the year ago, I was looking at the glass half empty with someone chugging it. I am so happy to have come so far.
This happens after I have had an entire day of stimulation – today I worked really early until really late, on deadline and swamped with writing all day. I had physical therapy for two hours and Corey (my therapist) started me on strengthening exercises that are far more tiring than the stretching I have been doing for the past five weeks. It’s like going to the gym in the middle of the day. Then I visited with my best friends over enchiladas, beer and reality TV, talking about our lives and laughing at the crazy people on TV. I just wrapped up an hour and a half conversation with my mom and it felt great to get a lot off my chest and have her tell me that things will work themselves out.
I honestly believe it, too. I have been struggling with a few things lately, namely people who turned out to be different than what I expected. Not good, not bad – just different. I began to question myself when I was with this person, which is never something I want to do. A long time ago, I came to the conclusion that I wouldn’t compromise myself for another and in a lot of ways, I feel like that’s what’s happening in this relationship.
I admit, a lot of how I am feeling stems from guilt that I feel and the problem I have with coming out and admitting that there is a problem. Most times, I feel myself begin to tell every one but the person that I am affecting the most about the issue, which backfires and often turns into more than what I originally intended.
I guess what I am trying to say in all of this is that I have come to a certain point in my life – a point of contentment. I am content in my life as it is now – the being busy most times, enjoying friends, new and old, school, work, meeting new people and having my own things that I love to do. My only fear now is letting down my guard long enough to give another person a shot at being what I need. In the end, that’s the only way to true contentment – being comfortable with yourself enough to truly give another person what there is of you, good or bad. I guess what I need is to know that this will happen – or whether I need to MAKE this happen for myself. Do you wake up one day and decide that you will be more flexible and stop finding fault in things long enough to make yourself vulnerable to another person? When is it right? How do you know? Does something just click?
Rhetorical questions to the universe.
And my mom says I look at the glass half full. A little over the year ago, I was looking at the glass half empty with someone chugging it. I am so happy to have come so far.
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Break is over
So school starts Jan. 14, and I have yet to accomplish the things I was supposed to accomplish over the break. In addition, I have $290 worth of books to buy this semester, which is about $200 more than I am used to spending! Add to that the $600 in hospital bills, I am a little strapped for cash.
These days, I am used to working at the Bulletin full time, so it's going to be hard to get into another routine. This semester, I am taking Comparative Politics with Dr. Harvey, Organizational Communication in the Comm department and Law and Sex with Dr. Baker. I am really excited about this semester and I resolve to work ahead of time on all the projects I will have to do at the end of the semester so I don't have another weekend of 36 hours of work straight.
These days, I am used to working at the Bulletin full time, so it's going to be hard to get into another routine. This semester, I am taking Comparative Politics with Dr. Harvey, Organizational Communication in the Comm department and Law and Sex with Dr. Baker. I am really excited about this semester and I resolve to work ahead of time on all the projects I will have to do at the end of the semester so I don't have another weekend of 36 hours of work straight.
Thursday, January 1, 2009
New Year's Resolutions
Well, it's day one of 2009. It's going to be a big year for me. Hopefully, there is a movie in my future, a change in career and a new degree to be proud of. There is so much I want to do this year - and my life is the better for it. Here are a few of those:
1. I want to run a half marathon before the year ends - which begins with actually being able to run.
2. I want to find direction and work toward a rewarding career.
3. I want to save $5,000 this year and pay off my credit card.
4. I want to make plans to travel and stick with it - even if it's just a weekend away.
5. I want to graduate with a 4.0.
6. I want to approach problems with an open mind and open heart and realize people make mistakes, including myself.
7. I want to blog more - at least once a week.
Cheers to 2009, my friends!
1. I want to run a half marathon before the year ends - which begins with actually being able to run.
2. I want to find direction and work toward a rewarding career.
3. I want to save $5,000 this year and pay off my credit card.
4. I want to make plans to travel and stick with it - even if it's just a weekend away.
5. I want to graduate with a 4.0.
6. I want to approach problems with an open mind and open heart and realize people make mistakes, including myself.
7. I want to blog more - at least once a week.
Cheers to 2009, my friends!
Monday, December 29, 2008
Text me.
Him: Can we make plans not in a text message?
Me: I like texting.
Him: Well maybe that's because I'm an adult and you're a child.
Me: Sometimes I can say something in a text that would take an hour of bullshitting to get out of a conversation on the phone.
That was the beginning of the annoyance I could hear in his voice.
Text messaging. Is there really an age where people began holding their conversations through their fingers rather than their ears and mouths? Is the birth year cut off 1982? What 27-year-old doesn't text? My DAD texts me to tell me he's in town. He turns 50 next week. Oy vey. Someone make me a drink. Or send me a text and we'll go get one.
Me: I like texting.
Him: Well maybe that's because I'm an adult and you're a child.
Me: Sometimes I can say something in a text that would take an hour of bullshitting to get out of a conversation on the phone.
That was the beginning of the annoyance I could hear in his voice.
Text messaging. Is there really an age where people began holding their conversations through their fingers rather than their ears and mouths? Is the birth year cut off 1982? What 27-year-old doesn't text? My DAD texts me to tell me he's in town. He turns 50 next week. Oy vey. Someone make me a drink. Or send me a text and we'll go get one.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Normally.
Normally, I am the Scrooge of weddings. I don't like going and watching a happy couple exchange vows that link them to each other 'til death do them part, but today, I turned over a new leaf when I attended the stellar wedding of my friend, Andrea. I guess it helps if you go with a cute boy who can dance (and when your knee feels well enough to do so).
*sigh*
*sigh*
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Exhausted....
...only a 20-page paper, 15-minute presentation and 15-page final left. The end is (almost) near.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
"This doesn't look like Grey's Anatomy..."
5:32 a.m. Thursday, Nov. 20
Mom and I woke up and finished packing up the things I would need for my five-day vacation to Deming, N.M., or as they call it "vacation for the stars..." I am anxious, thirsty and kind of ready to have this whole ordeal over with.
6:30 a.m.
We arrive at MountainView Surgery Center and I check in with Pam's friend, Selena, answering the basic questions, working out the insurance mess and signing the "I promise not to sue if I die" forms. Then, I go wait in the waiting room with a small girl and her family, as well as my mom before they call me into the surgery prep area.
As they call me and I go in, I notice there's another child in there. It doesn't take long before I ask why so many children and the super-nice, handpicked nurse (my aunt handpicked my surgery team, lol) told me that Nov. 20 was known as "Dental Day," the day that all the children whose parents have allowed them to eat candy and crap without making them brush and floss their teeth come in to be sedated and have crowns put in and teeth pulled in an effort to save teeth that have rotted out of their heads. They were playing Shrek 3 loud enough for me to enjoy it, so I didn't mind much.
The nurse asked me a boat load of questions before telling me to get undressed and put on the hospital-ordered gown, booties and super hot hair net, then climb onto the gurney that would wheel me into surgery. At this time, my mom and aunt had joined me while we were waiting for Dr. Lindsey to get there to answer any questions we had. We joked with the anesthesiologist as she asked me many of the same questions and told me that she would give me a sedative before they wheeled me into the operating room.
8 a.m.
Dr. Lindsey arrived and I made sure I didn't have any last minute questions. Thankfully, I was born to a nurse that knows what she's doing in any given situation, so I wasn't worried about when I woke up or how the knee should look, etc.
After he answered all of the questions I had, Dr. Skinner (the anesthesiologist) gave me the "happy" medicine and I kissed my family goodbye. The rest, it seems, I blacked out, but this is what I was told happened:
On my short jaunt to the operating room, I announced to Dr. Skinner that this hospital had very sexy men in it (see my previous post about the knee incident). She asked where she could find them and I proceeded to tell her that she could find them in the E.R. and to take me to the E.R. As we reached the operating room, I also told her, "This doesn't look like Grey's Anatomy." Embarrassing? Yes.
11 a.m.
I start to wake up in the recovery room, heavily sedated, but awake enough to realize there are three screaming F****** children in the not-so-private recovery stations. I'm not talking whimpering, soft spoken children...I'm talking give-me-a-gun-and-I'll-take-care-of-it screaming children. I actually stopped my recovery nurse to ask her if we could sedate them again and to "put it on my tab." That's not a lie.
These children were TERRIBLE. They actually needed three adults to hold down a 10-year-old screaming, writhing child so they could give him pain meds. I was furious and it didn't help that I was dealing with my own issues. Where's Shrek when you need him, dammit?
11:30 a.m.
The screaming kids were finally gone and my mom was in the recovery room with me. I was so so cold and the recovery nurse was awesome and gave me heated blankets...and not electric heated ones, but the kind you take out of an oven. I took my first dose of Vicodin with some crackers so my stomach wouldn't be upset, then she begins the discharge process.
Unbelievably, I am able to get myself from my bed to the wheelchair without much trouble. My leg was wrapped in the bandages with an ace bandage over them, all the way to my toes, which were bright orange from the disinfectant they used.
They wheeled me out to my mom's car, where I didn't have much trouble getting in and laying down, starting to feel a little queasy from the medicine.
Then my mom gave me my phone and I started to call people (I am sorry if you received one of these incoherent phone calls). I quickly fell asleep on the road back to Deming, where I would be spending the next few days in recovery mode.
1:30 p.m.
I wake up to my poor mother groaning with displeasure as we drive down Country Club Road on our way home. I turn over and ask her what's wrong and she says she is not feeling well, is sick to her stomach and is going down the road at an alarming rate.
We turn onto Needles Eye Road, our road, and she says "I'm sorry, baby. I have to stop." She opened the door and got violently ill. All I could do was rub her back and hand her napkins from the glove compartment. I felt so helpless to help her.
We finally pulled in the driveway, and miraculously, she is able to help me from the car and unload everything, making sure I am settled on the couch in the den, with my knee propped and water and snacks on hand.
Then, she asked me if I needed anything and went to bed. I didn't see her until the next day at 10 a.m.
My dad was stuck as my nurse and I had to call him because I was so hungry and craving a Schwann's pepperoni pizza that I know my parents keep stocked in the freezer for us kids. He came home, heated one up for me and handed me the remote to the television. I turned it on and accidentally turned it to the channel that makes the whole satellite stick and burn out. So, I was stuck without a TV. So, I went to sleep.
More to come...
Mom and I woke up and finished packing up the things I would need for my five-day vacation to Deming, N.M., or as they call it "vacation for the stars..." I am anxious, thirsty and kind of ready to have this whole ordeal over with.
6:30 a.m.
We arrive at MountainView Surgery Center and I check in with Pam's friend, Selena, answering the basic questions, working out the insurance mess and signing the "I promise not to sue if I die" forms. Then, I go wait in the waiting room with a small girl and her family, as well as my mom before they call me into the surgery prep area.
As they call me and I go in, I notice there's another child in there. It doesn't take long before I ask why so many children and the super-nice, handpicked nurse (my aunt handpicked my surgery team, lol) told me that Nov. 20 was known as "Dental Day," the day that all the children whose parents have allowed them to eat candy and crap without making them brush and floss their teeth come in to be sedated and have crowns put in and teeth pulled in an effort to save teeth that have rotted out of their heads. They were playing Shrek 3 loud enough for me to enjoy it, so I didn't mind much.
The nurse asked me a boat load of questions before telling me to get undressed and put on the hospital-ordered gown, booties and super hot hair net, then climb onto the gurney that would wheel me into surgery. At this time, my mom and aunt had joined me while we were waiting for Dr. Lindsey to get there to answer any questions we had. We joked with the anesthesiologist as she asked me many of the same questions and told me that she would give me a sedative before they wheeled me into the operating room.
8 a.m.
Dr. Lindsey arrived and I made sure I didn't have any last minute questions. Thankfully, I was born to a nurse that knows what she's doing in any given situation, so I wasn't worried about when I woke up or how the knee should look, etc.
After he answered all of the questions I had, Dr. Skinner (the anesthesiologist) gave me the "happy" medicine and I kissed my family goodbye. The rest, it seems, I blacked out, but this is what I was told happened:
On my short jaunt to the operating room, I announced to Dr. Skinner that this hospital had very sexy men in it (see my previous post about the knee incident). She asked where she could find them and I proceeded to tell her that she could find them in the E.R. and to take me to the E.R. As we reached the operating room, I also told her, "This doesn't look like Grey's Anatomy." Embarrassing? Yes.
11 a.m.
I start to wake up in the recovery room, heavily sedated, but awake enough to realize there are three screaming F****** children in the not-so-private recovery stations. I'm not talking whimpering, soft spoken children...I'm talking give-me-a-gun-and-I'll-take-care-of-it screaming children. I actually stopped my recovery nurse to ask her if we could sedate them again and to "put it on my tab." That's not a lie.
These children were TERRIBLE. They actually needed three adults to hold down a 10-year-old screaming, writhing child so they could give him pain meds. I was furious and it didn't help that I was dealing with my own issues. Where's Shrek when you need him, dammit?
11:30 a.m.
The screaming kids were finally gone and my mom was in the recovery room with me. I was so so cold and the recovery nurse was awesome and gave me heated blankets...and not electric heated ones, but the kind you take out of an oven. I took my first dose of Vicodin with some crackers so my stomach wouldn't be upset, then she begins the discharge process.
Unbelievably, I am able to get myself from my bed to the wheelchair without much trouble. My leg was wrapped in the bandages with an ace bandage over them, all the way to my toes, which were bright orange from the disinfectant they used.
They wheeled me out to my mom's car, where I didn't have much trouble getting in and laying down, starting to feel a little queasy from the medicine.
Then my mom gave me my phone and I started to call people (I am sorry if you received one of these incoherent phone calls). I quickly fell asleep on the road back to Deming, where I would be spending the next few days in recovery mode.
1:30 p.m.
I wake up to my poor mother groaning with displeasure as we drive down Country Club Road on our way home. I turn over and ask her what's wrong and she says she is not feeling well, is sick to her stomach and is going down the road at an alarming rate.
We turn onto Needles Eye Road, our road, and she says "I'm sorry, baby. I have to stop." She opened the door and got violently ill. All I could do was rub her back and hand her napkins from the glove compartment. I felt so helpless to help her.
We finally pulled in the driveway, and miraculously, she is able to help me from the car and unload everything, making sure I am settled on the couch in the den, with my knee propped and water and snacks on hand.
Then, she asked me if I needed anything and went to bed. I didn't see her until the next day at 10 a.m.
My dad was stuck as my nurse and I had to call him because I was so hungry and craving a Schwann's pepperoni pizza that I know my parents keep stocked in the freezer for us kids. He came home, heated one up for me and handed me the remote to the television. I turned it on and accidentally turned it to the channel that makes the whole satellite stick and burn out. So, I was stuck without a TV. So, I went to sleep.
More to come...
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