Just saw an Amish woman - in full Amish gear - chatting on a cell phone.
Lemme get this straight. She doesn't have electricity but she has a cell phone?
My kind of girl!
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Are You Drunk Or Just Stupid?
The good news is I taught Mother how to text, which has ended her incessant calls to me every time a thought popped into her head.
The bad news? When Mother texts her sister, her mother, her best friend or her neighbor, she instead texts me. I receive texts daily that make absolutely no sense whatsoever. Which is only mildly annoying until one starts, "Don't say anything to Regan, but...."
The bad news? When Mother texts her sister, her mother, her best friend or her neighbor, she instead texts me. I receive texts daily that make absolutely no sense whatsoever. Which is only mildly annoying until one starts, "Don't say anything to Regan, but...."
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Saturday, July 16, 2011
Big, Fat Crybaby
I have a cousin who cries at everything, even baptisms. Seriously. At every family gathering we can count on Dae to bawl at least once (usually during the prayer before the meal.) Her crying starts my aunt crying...and starts me rolling my eyes, further convinced I'm adopted. But something changed in the last decade or so, and I turned into a big, fat crybaby.
Growing up, I wouldn't cry for anything - not even funerals. I'd feel sad and want to cry but I fought to hold it in. Even at my dad's memorial service when I was 12 years old, I held it in. NO WAY was anyone going to see me cry!
Then I had my son. In the days that followed, my hormones were raging and I cried at everything - tv shows, greeting cards, the Mastercard commercial with the guy and his injured dog...everything.
After the hormone flood subsided I got tough again. I didn't cry for almost a year. And then my grandfather died. It was sad but I didn't cry at his funeral. It was just before Christmas so it was blistery cold and windy outside. We caravaned to the gravesite, and everyone huddled tightly together in the tent with the coffin. Mouth fell asleep on the way, and I didn't want to wake him so I left the car running and stood by it. I couldn't hear anything because of the wind so I just hunkered down and waited for the service to end.
Then I noticed five little old guys in military caps lining up outside the tent. My grandfather was in the Navy so I figured they had something to do with the ceremony. When the service ended (which I couldn't tell because I couldn't hear anything) the five little guys raised their rifles and simultaneously fired three shots.
Oh. My. God.
Here I was, in a desolate snowy field with the chilly wind whipping around me, watching these men solemnly salute my grandfather. I EFFING SOBBED. I think my cousin (who was stuck outside the tent as well) and I were the only ones who witnessed it because none of our family heard or saw anything. I looked at her, and she was sobbing, too. I will never, ever forget that moment.
After that day, something changed in me. I started crying at more things (no commercials but I will admit Extreme Home Makeover got me a few times.) Then a close friend of mine died. She just didn't wake up one morning. She left behind a husband and teenage twins. I went to her funeral and just couldn't stop crying.
Two years later, another one of my friends died. She also didn't wake one morning. She was only 28 years old and was one of the funniest people I've ever met. I was sobbing so hard at her funeral I think the pastor wanted to bitch slap me!
After that, I frikkin' cried at just about everything. I had some shitty bosses at my old job who would chastise me (and others) for every little faux pas. I would go into my manager's office thinking, I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry. Sonofabitch, I would cry every time! You would think they would be afraid I'd go postal on them or something and would stop making me cry!
I left that toxic environment (or rather, they laid me off) and I moved on to the hospital. I see a lot of death and grief in the ER but I haven't once cried. I've consoled widows and hugged sobbing men. I even saw a 9 month old baby die and witnessed his mother fall to pieces over his body. Didn't cry. It was so, so sad but I didn't cry.
I think that's one of the many reasons nursing feels right for me. I think I've turned a corner and am ready to start a new chapter.
God, I hope so because if I start crying at baptisms I'm TOTALLY committing myself.
Growing up, I wouldn't cry for anything - not even funerals. I'd feel sad and want to cry but I fought to hold it in. Even at my dad's memorial service when I was 12 years old, I held it in. NO WAY was anyone going to see me cry!
Then I had my son. In the days that followed, my hormones were raging and I cried at everything - tv shows, greeting cards, the Mastercard commercial with the guy and his injured dog...everything.
After the hormone flood subsided I got tough again. I didn't cry for almost a year. And then my grandfather died. It was sad but I didn't cry at his funeral. It was just before Christmas so it was blistery cold and windy outside. We caravaned to the gravesite, and everyone huddled tightly together in the tent with the coffin. Mouth fell asleep on the way, and I didn't want to wake him so I left the car running and stood by it. I couldn't hear anything because of the wind so I just hunkered down and waited for the service to end.
Then I noticed five little old guys in military caps lining up outside the tent. My grandfather was in the Navy so I figured they had something to do with the ceremony. When the service ended (which I couldn't tell because I couldn't hear anything) the five little guys raised their rifles and simultaneously fired three shots.
Oh. My. God.
Here I was, in a desolate snowy field with the chilly wind whipping around me, watching these men solemnly salute my grandfather. I EFFING SOBBED. I think my cousin (who was stuck outside the tent as well) and I were the only ones who witnessed it because none of our family heard or saw anything. I looked at her, and she was sobbing, too. I will never, ever forget that moment.
After that day, something changed in me. I started crying at more things (no commercials but I will admit Extreme Home Makeover got me a few times.) Then a close friend of mine died. She just didn't wake up one morning. She left behind a husband and teenage twins. I went to her funeral and just couldn't stop crying.
Two years later, another one of my friends died. She also didn't wake one morning. She was only 28 years old and was one of the funniest people I've ever met. I was sobbing so hard at her funeral I think the pastor wanted to bitch slap me!
After that, I frikkin' cried at just about everything. I had some shitty bosses at my old job who would chastise me (and others) for every little faux pas. I would go into my manager's office thinking, I'm not gonna cry, I'm not gonna cry. Sonofabitch, I would cry every time! You would think they would be afraid I'd go postal on them or something and would stop making me cry!
I left that toxic environment (or rather, they laid me off) and I moved on to the hospital. I see a lot of death and grief in the ER but I haven't once cried. I've consoled widows and hugged sobbing men. I even saw a 9 month old baby die and witnessed his mother fall to pieces over his body. Didn't cry. It was so, so sad but I didn't cry.
I think that's one of the many reasons nursing feels right for me. I think I've turned a corner and am ready to start a new chapter.
God, I hope so because if I start crying at baptisms I'm TOTALLY committing myself.
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This Is Gonna Get Inneresting
Many of you know I possess a bachelors degree in communications, which is proving to be about as useful as a shit covered flyswatter (and yes, my hyphen key is still broken or I would have properly hyphenated that adjective. GAWD, I'm so anal!) So I've decided to be the ultimate glutton for punishment and go back to school.
Nursing school.
I realize I pass out every time I have blood drawn but apparently all those hours working in the ER softened my heart a bit and made me want to help others. (Okay, it's mostly the table saw injuries and protruding bones. Those kick ASS!) However, I have to take a few classes to prepare me for my new career...including chemistry, which I dropped in college. Four times.
The community college where I am taking a biology and chemistry class this fall has already put me on academic probation because FIFTEEN YEARS AGO I signed up for a class during a summer break home and ended up dropping it (it was chemistry, natch) so I've already got that going for me.
Everyone buckle up and put your tray tables in their full, upright positions because we're about to have some FUN now!
*end sarcasm
Nursing school.
I realize I pass out every time I have blood drawn but apparently all those hours working in the ER softened my heart a bit and made me want to help others. (Okay, it's mostly the table saw injuries and protruding bones. Those kick ASS!) However, I have to take a few classes to prepare me for my new career...including chemistry, which I dropped in college. Four times.
The community college where I am taking a biology and chemistry class this fall has already put me on academic probation because FIFTEEN YEARS AGO I signed up for a class during a summer break home and ended up dropping it (it was chemistry, natch) so I've already got that going for me.
Everyone buckle up and put your tray tables in their full, upright positions because we're about to have some FUN now!
*end sarcasm
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