the world as I think I know it

Midwifery books, Pregnancy books, anatomy & physiology books

2009-05-21T20:29:00.002-05:00

Those are on my table right now. And we're not talking 3 or four books. We're talking ten. On one table. Because that's how many I need to get through my homework that's due tomorrow.

And they aren't even cutting it.

None of us are quite sure how we were supposed to get our work done, because we're all having a hard time getting answers. And it's not like I'm bad at researching. I'm pretty good (if I do say so myself... and I do). Google, Wikipedia, random online journals. Ten textbooks. Not helping.

We all hope for some clarification this weekend.

And now I'm off to create a costume of a seven month old embryo. Yay!

Photos! Yay!

2009-05-15T20:26:00.004-05:00

I love mail-order photo companies. I don't really have a preference. Any place where I can order prints and get them mailed to me for half the price I like. Because I like photos. I like printing lots of them and putting them in albums and pasting them on my walls. Almost free self-made art, yay.

Here are some of the new additions:

Underside of a bridge, taken while on one of the super-cool architectural boat tours.

The Trump Tower, almost done. A big shiny building.

A pretty little butterfly.

So -- yay, photos! I spend most of my afternoon putting these on the wall instead of working of Meredith's wedding dress.

(Note to Meredith: I was totally working on your dress all day. Don't believe the lies.)

And... that's all. I like photos.

Food and dogs.

2009-05-13T21:14:00.001-05:00

Well, I guess that title is misleading. It connotes that I will be writing about how food and dogs relate to each other, or how they are somehow connected in some way. Although they are related (that is, dogs do in fact eat food), I won't be speaking about their connections here today.

I will be talking about bread. Wonderous, beautifully edible bread. Finally. The only attribute I could have wished on this bread was for it to have had a slightly crispier crust. But it was soft, yes. Tasteful, yes. Risen just enough but not so much that it ever even thought about falling.

It was so good that it was completely eaten in 48 hours. Yes -- that good. Mmmm... bread. Yum.

As for the dog part of the post: I gave the dog a bath. Which is good, because now he doesn't smell. ...as much, anyway. He's an old stinky mutt. And his ears are pretty grimey sometimes, they need all the help they can get.

Bad: because I, too, got a bath. (I already had one today, thankyouverymuch).

My method is to fill up the tub with halfway soapy water, make him sit in it, and scrub him with soap. Scrub him GOOD with soap. His fur is somewhat water resistant, so I figure the more he is immersed in the water, the more clean he will be. The problem was that Baloney seemed to think I was trying to drown him when I made him lay down in the tub for the first time. He was SO freaked out. So I have to hug him around his wet, soapy neck while I hold him down. I've given up on staying dry.

Here he is, freshly bathed and still somewhat damp.

The other part I hate about giving him baths? The fact that he feels he must bathe himself afterwards. He licks his paws (and everything else) until he's... I don't know. Dry, maybe? But this is obviously a very important part of the process.

What you may not know is that Baloney is pretty much deaf. So he can't hear himself as he NOISILY BATHES HIMSELF. It drives me nuts. If he does this for too long, I throw something at him -- not rocks or anything, just small pens or bottle caps or something lightweight -- so that he stops.

But I would rather him be not smelly. Uck on dog smell. Blech.

Bathe regularly, folks.

Cheap Eats

2009-04-27T20:44:00.007-05:00

So, did you hear the economy is/was/still might be tanking? Yep, most people are trying to slim down their budgets.

Finally, I say. Too many people have been living past their means for too long. Sheesh. ...of course, not that I was that much better until about a year or two ago. It took me FOREVER to learn that my economic status was not the same as my parents' status (imagine that, a theatre grad not having the income of a family who had been working for decades, who'd a thunk). Anyway, I figured it out, paid off the bills, slowly (I mean slowly) got a budget, and have been getting better gradually ever since. Took me long enough. But my husband has always lived frugally ("It's like Monopoly," he says, "you can't spend more than you've got!"), and I've been doing pretty well for a while, so I got a head start on the people who just started getting cheap last fall.

Anyway, I'm now at a point where I can look at an item in a store and know whether or not it's a good deal. That's important, and not as easy as it seems if you're not used to it. Here in Chicago, you're lucky to find ground beef for less than $2.50/lb, boneless chicken breast for $3/lb, and apples for less than $1.50/lb. Add in all the fancy stuff that "people are supposed to eat", and the grocery bill can add up fast. I swear, when I was in college, I would sometimes spend $100 a week on food. A WEEK. For one person. It was in the name of it's-healthy-for-me, but it was WAY out of budget. Kinda dumb. I'd love to eat all natural free range organic happy everything, but I just can't afford $10/lb meat. Or oranges for $1.50/lb. Or a box of cereal that's less than a pound for $5. It's just not possible. I feel bad for the animals and the earth, I know it's not as good for us, but there's just nothing to be done about it.

So, let's look at what I've prepared over the past week or so:

Beef roast with mashed potatoes and salad: Beef, buy one get one free, $2.50/lb. Potatoes, $.50/lb for a 10 lb bag. Salad with tomatoes and cucumber, about $1.50. Per serving: $2.00.

Tuna salad sandwich: Tuna, $.59, mayo/mustard, $.25. Croissant, $.60. Apple, 5 lbs/$3, about $.55. Total: $1.99. (The croissant did me in.)

Pasta with tomato-beef sauce: Pasta, $1. Beef, $2/lb. Tomatoes in a can (2), $1.50. Onion & other, $.50. Per serving: $1.75.

Chicken Rice & Spinach casserole: Chicken (breasts, frozen from before I realized I shouldn't buy the easy kind), $2/lb. Spinach, $1.50. Rice, $.50. And some other stuff. Per serving: $1.50.

Beans, cornbread, and salad: Beans, $1/lb. Cornbread, about $2 homemade. Salad of tomatoes cucumber, $1.50. Per serving: $1.25.

Eggs & toast: Eggs, $2.50/18. Bread, homemade, $2.00. Per serving, $.50.

So I'm doing alright, I think. I'm finding meat on sale, buying a lot, and freezing it (wrapping in foil and writing the date on it first). I can get chicken leg quarters for $.75/lb at the corner store normally, and sometimes on sale for $.50/lb. Heavy produce (apples, potatoes, oranges) have better prices by the bag. And although I don't typically buy onions by the bag (why not, who knows), I think I'll start. Since we're chocaholics we always have some choclatey sweet stuff around, and my husband likes the good stuff -- Ghiradelli. It's hard to go back to store brand chips... so that's our splurge item. It's typically $3.89 for an 11 oz bag of chocolate chips, I can find them for 2 for $5 every month or two. So I stock up, and we go through a bag every 2 weeks or so. Cereal is SO expensive here, normally $4-5 a box, depending on what you get, so that gets passed up for eggs and bread. Or oatmeal. And I fill a casserole or pasta/rice dish with beans to pack in more protein and fiber, and that allows me to be able to serve a little less meat. Any little bit of healthy filler helps. And it also helps that Matt likes pretty much everything I've made, or I'd be totally frustrated with trying to please him and our wallets.

I normally shoot for a $5 per person per day food cost. That's $250 - $300 per month for the two of us. I guess that's not too bad depending on who you ask.

And tonight: I'll make oven-roasted fries for later this week (have to do *something* with the potatoes) and some sort of baked sweet. It's been 48 hours since we've had baked goods in the house, I might get divorced if I don't correct that soon. Since I found 500 bijillion tons of nuts while rearranging the kitchen this evening, I think it'll have nuts in it. And chocolate. (But that goes without saying.)

Shop on.

Food, Glorious Food

2009-04-25T11:14:00.001-05:00

Oh, food is good. I like food. I will tell you more about my food, since I KNOW you are anxiously awaiting to hear what my diet has been lately.

[cricket noises]

Right. Um... moving on.

So. The other night: Whole Grain Capellini with a delicate Bolognese.

And by that, I mean whole wheat spaghetti with ground meat and canned tomatoes. But it was really good, so I figured it could have a fancy pants name.

I was actually pretty impressed. I sauted up some onion with ground beef (on sale for $1.50/lb!) and basil and oregano (can't omit the oregano in a Greek household, I think the punishment is death, or having to constantly roll a ball of herbs up a hill for eternity, or something like that). And then I poured in a can of petitely diced tomatoes (preseasoned with garlic, $1 each, yay), and half a small can of tomato paste. and I stirred it and let it simmer for awhile. (We can never use a whole bottle of prego before it molds, so a can is just easier and less wasteful for us.)

How long did I let it simmer? I don't remember. I let it simmer as long as it took me to mix and knead this beauty:

Yep. Bread. Good bread. ... Well, kinda good bread. It looked really good after the first rising, I was excited. It looked glorious and full after the second rising, I was elated. Then, in the ten minutes it took the oven to come to full temperature, it fell. And didn't even do that fancy "oven rise" thing that bread does when it cooks. ...it had so much potential. [sigh]

And naturally, the second loaf from this batch that I made the other day did the same dumb thing. You'd think bread was hard. [sulk]

And... let's see. Spinach pie, yay!

I love spinach pie. But I always conveniently forget until 8:30pm on a work night that it really takes a long time to prep, what with all the phyllo layer-butter-phyllo layer-butter-phyllo layer-butter-phyllo layer-butter business. At least it's yummy.

Let the good times roll.

I want to be a midwife SO BAD

2009-04-15T16:20:00.006-05:00

But I'm gonna hafta wait. [sigh] It's just not my time, sad as I am to say so. Why do I say so?

As you may or may not know, I just barely missed getting a spot in the glorious but life-sucking UIC Master's in Nursing program that I would have started last January. (I was actually closer to being in than I thought, but I'm not going to post about that here.) Anyway, although I was dead-set on that program before I was married, I later decided I was glad I didn't get in. I would have made a pretty bad wife if I were in that program. I would have been at the school all day, and home just enough to sleep. I would do that to me, but I can't do that to Matt. Some people do, and that's totally fine if it works for them, but I just don't want to do that anymore. So... school option number 1, nixed.

After I got the "You're-not-in-yet" letter from UIC, I started a dozen or so files on the other nursing schools in the area. Many were accelerated Bachelor's programs, where I'd get my degree in a year. But this would bring me back to the same problem I had with the UIC program -- too much time in school, not enough time to actually be the wife I want to be -- so those are out. Besides, I'm trying to make it through school without loans, and those programs are 20k - 50k. That's a bit more than I have managed to save up. And although there are loan payback programs from the government and hospitals upon signing contracts, you have to pay all that upfront. And amazingly enough, a white girl from the burbs with a good upbringing making an okay amount of money that already has one degree can't get any scholarships. Go figure. So anyway, the other fancy accelerated programs are out. Option 2, nixed.

Last fall, while taking a Microbio class at Truman College, I found out that they had a nursing program -- I could get an Associates and be able to sit for the exam and get my RN in 2 years. Huh. That wasn't too bad. So I got my info together, kicked some major bootie on my placement tests, and just found out last week that I'm in. YAY! I'm in somewhere! I'm on my way!!! Or something. So this starts this fall. And it seems that it's only about $5000 for the whole 2 years. Good, gives me something to do other than my accounting job I can't stand. And it's pretty marketable, that's good, too.

And then, a month or two ago, a friend from my Biology class two years ago told me that if I had free time, I should complete a nurses aide training program. She said that all the girls at Marquette that had been nurses aides were much more comfortable when they got to clinicals. And it gets you a bit of networking at hospitals, so that can't hurt. It's only $1000, so that's not too bad for a certificate that will get me experience and a job that I can have while getting my RN. Anyway, I got into a CNA program at Truman, and that's an 8 week program that starts in June. So, yay! Another start! Woo-hoo!

And then... early this year, after talking to Kim, I found out about a great midwifery training program. It was for Certified Professional Midwives, training for homebirth. I would love to get my hands into homebirth -- I think homebirth midwives have a far greater knowledge of birth as a normal process, and really want to learn that. And tie that in with my RN that I'll be getting, and I'd be doing pretty well. So I called the head of the program and got myself in. Yay! Midwifery, here I come! YAYYAYYAY!

And then... in February I went with many of us midwife-wanna-bes to Springfield with the Coalition for Illinois Midwives to lobby for the Homebirth Safety Act. This would legalize the CPMs, and allow us to be regulated. That whole legal thing would be nice, let me tell you. Being an underground is no fun. So we all went down there, and it was kind of a rush. Getting involved with the lawmaking process, all the networking and persuading. Yeah, it's politics... politics, blech... but it's gotta be done.

And after realizing a number of things about me and my life right at this moment and where I am in this world, I realized that maybe working for the coalition on this new bill may be the best use of my time, rather than working towards my own midwifery training.

It took me 2 months to make my decision final... I only just sent the email breaking the news to the head of the program. That was a really hard email to write. And it took me a while to finally send it.

[sigh]

I want to be a midwife SO MUCH. I want to help moms. I want to support families. I want to spread my knowledge, and encourage women to look for their own answers to their questions. I want to empower and enlighten and embrace women and their experience and their health.

It almost makes me wish I had not gotten into theatre in undergrad, wasting my time with acting when I should have been on my way to being a midwife. I would be one by now, making my way, making waves. ...But I'm not. And I loved the work I did, and I don't regret it. But it's still hard.

I'll be a midwife one day. It may be a long time from now. But I will be a midwife one day.

Find your dreams, everyone.

On the Road Again

2009-04-13T11:55:00.000-05:00

Ah, Ohio. Home of my parents. Home of my husband's parents-in-law. Source of joy and only minor annoyances now that I don't live there anymore. We love Ohio. My husband told me a great joke when he was courting me:

"Oh yeah, Ohio is always wonderful! And Cleveland -- the best! Want to know when it looks the most beautiful? ...When you're seeing it in your rear view mirror! Badda-boom-ching! HAHAHAHAHA! ...so where are you from again? Oh, Ohio, really. ...so where in Ohio? ...near Cleveland? ... ah. Right."

Then he went on to make fun of liberal arts degrees, and found out after he finished that joke that I had a theatre degree. The poor boy had lost all hope of marrying me. But then I made some chili for him, so he figured I liked him enough to marry him anyway.

But back to the topic at hand, Ohio. It was a good time. While I talked midwifery and all that the future holds with Mom, Matt was locked in the computer room, looking at stuff like this (courtesy of Wikipedia, of course):

Well, maybe not quite like this. His stuff for his physics class was a little different. At least, I assume so. I wouldn't know the difference between this and what he was actually looking at if it hit me in the face. Although I guess I wouldn't be able to see it if it hit me in the face, that's happened before. So maybe it's better to say I wouldn't know the difference between this and Matt's homework if I had had a chance to see both items walk slowly up and down a catwalk, turning gracefully, showing me all they got. Then at least I would have a better look.

I would still have no clue.

Anyway, that was really all that happened last weekend on our trip to Ohio to see the 'rents. We ate lamb (any respectable Greek eats lamb), communed with family, watched some movies (Working Girl with Melanie Griffith - yay! - and The Saboteur, an old Hitchcock film). Mom bought us yummy chocolates and chocolate cupcakes from the lovely local bakery (that boy of mine is spoiled by two women!). I drove halfway back, and for someone who hates driving a stick shift, that sure was a painful experience in Chicago traffic. But we got back at a respectable time, and all was well.

Then Matt got back to his Physics. Blech. Four more weeks until the semester is over. Not sure which of the two of us are more excited. We'll get through.

Hope everyone's Easter was full of happy!

Bread is good. Unless it's bad.

2009-04-01T20:44:00.010-05:00

Sparked by all these wonderful blogs I've been reading lately, I decided to make all our own bread from now on. Why?

1. It's cheaper (unless you buy wondersuperyuck bread, which doesn't count)

2. It's healthier (no more weird preservatives that will keep my digestive system in tact 736 years past my death)

3. It's such a wonderful, house-warming past time which will make my heart feel more whole (no promises there, folks)

Well, I am quite the baker. And I have baked bread before. Nothing to it, right? Just a little bit of work -- and if I use the bread attachment on my kitchenaid, I don't even have to do that horrible awful kneading for ten mintues. Yay, bread!

Well, it didn't quite work out that way.

This is a photo of my husband feeding my first, second, and third loaves to the birds -- I have no idea how he was even able to tear those chunks of bricks into small pieces. Oh -- sorry, I just remembered he didn't throw the second. I didn't even bother to bake that loaf, I just (sadly) threw out the lumpy dough, I was so angry. Nothing rose. Not at all. Not after using brand-new yeast, active or quick, thermometers to test the temperature of the water, good kneading... nothing. I am normally SO much better than that. [pout]

So I read up a bit, found out that you can salvage a bread that didn't rise the first go around by mixing a bit more yeast into it, and tried that with the 4th loaf. It came out... edible.

As you can see, it's only slightly brick-like. There are some air bubbles, but you can see the marks from the knife. You shouldn't see knife marks in bread. [sigh]

So I tried again. I read a science of cooking book, and learned a bit about the whole flour-protein-yeast mixture (I will spare you the scientific details). I bought some wheat gluten and decided to let it rise for extra time just to be sure it came out right... but perhaps I should have been checking it. That wheat gluten... boy. It sure makes bread rise somethin' fierce.

Here is my lovely, well-risen bread. Look at that rise.

Look at that gorgeous crumb. So fluffy. So soft. Ah, bread. How I do love thee.

I pulled it out of the oven, my husband salivating. Mmmm.... We tasted it.

Hmm. Kinda tasteless.

Then I remembered -- I didn't add salt. Not ANY. No wonder it had no flavor and rose like the dickens. It rose so much, it caved:

So, yeah -- bread. I plan on making more. One day, I may even get it right.

(stupid bread)

You Can Have Whatever You Like

2009-03-30T15:51:00.008-05:00

(In case you're wondering, no, I don't like TI, who wrote the above lyrics. He just got arrested for weapons or something related to them. But my coworker's cell phone rings with the above lyrics, and so I frequently have the song in my head.) [shrug]

With the recent craziness of our small household, I've lost myself in a little bit of thought of what I want for our future. Most of it is different than most peoples' wants, I suppose.

I would love to live in the boonies, on a little homestead, Little-House-on-the-Prairie-Style. Just, you know, with electricity... and running water... and my internet. I do enjoy Google and Wikipedia. But I'd love to make my own soap, which I can't do now for lack of time and space. I want a garden big enough to take care of at least some of our winter food, and learn canning -- again -- lack of time and space. Enough kids that we have a good sized family, but not so many that we can't have a decent lifestyle (no, I don't know what that means yet). I want to have a house that is clean and fresh, with our own home grown flowers adorning the big dining room table. I want a kitchen open enough to the rest of the house that I can be there and not cut off from friends when they are over for dinner. I want a pretty but eclectic tea set that I can haul out after dinner, with enough time to be able to actually relax and enjoy it. I want chickens (I think). I don't know if I'd like to homeschool our kids, but it's a possibility. I like baking bread -- even though I don't quite have my method down pat yet -- and want to bake more.

I never imagined saying this, but I get some silly satisfaction out of taking care of the home. I remember glorifying the 1950's housewife lifestyle when I was a kid, wishing to playact in it for a time. And I had started doing that after getting married, but thought that I had to be careful in setting up that soon-to-be-cemented expectation in Matt that this was the way it would always be. Then I realized -- this was enjoyable. I liked this. Huh.

So I've found myself enjoying that simpler life that I've talked about for years. Buying fewer things, making more of our own household supplies (baking soda is AWESOME at de-griming a bathtub), trying to keep a slower pace. I always talked a good talk, but I'm finally living it. Well... okay, kind of living it. As much as one can when living in a huge city in a small apartment working at a desk job. I've gotten rid of debt, I don't spend as much -- or when I do, I spend intelligently on something I plan on having for a LONG time.

I finally feel like my religious search has mellowed, too. I have finally settled back into a version of a mindset I had years ago, just more Abrahamic-based. I feel like I can look to God for the stability I need, but know that I can't expect any help unless I first get my own rear in gear. I'm not perfect, but no one judges me except for Him, through the eyes of the One who gave me this life I lead. As long as I'm doing the best I can -- and actually doing my best, not just faking it -- I'll be fine. I hope that I can bring light to everyone in my life.

I know that in the past I looked upon people who were "simple" and thought they were missing out; it was too bad they didn't see all that life had to offer. If only they would reach out from their small lives, spread their wings and fly! Think critically of life and of the people around them, expand from where their families came from! I've finally begun to realize how wrong I was -- not necessarily for everyone, but for me. Maybe it was a stage I was going through, or maybe it was just me trying to make good on all the good education given to me by my parents. But simple isn't necessarily less. I can't preach it to everyone, though I hope that I can subtly influence other people to make similar choices. We can have whatever we want -- and if simple we want, simple we can have.

But living simply doesn't mean you can't have and enjoy thes e every now and then (as long as you get a good deal).

I love my life. [smiles]

Yours in Simplification.

I Love My Phone… Or, The Setback after Forehead vs. Nose

2009-03-27T14:18:00.001-05:00

I think it all started with my new phone. Or maybe the fact that I'm leaving work in a month and can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Or maybe just that eating more beef is upping my iron intake and giving me more energy. Whatever. I like my new phone.

I won’t bore you with the specs, but basically it’s one of those fancy-schmancy expensive lil’ smartphones. (For those who care, it’s a Palm Centro; for those that ask, no, they certainly aren’t giving me any money for saying their name here.) I originally got it so I could get to my email or the web if I needed it, which could come in handy if I were on call as a doula or midwife trainee.

I soon found that the best part of this phone was the PDA part. I can:

1. Keep my calendar in order

2. Have an organized to-do list

3. Actually remember my grocery list

4. Recall friends’ birthdays, making me feel like a better person

You know how you have thoughts of random things that you know you have to do pop up throughout the day? I either tried really really really hard to remember them (like that ever worked) or wrote the task on a post-it (ask me how many random lost post-its fell to the bottom of my purse). So now, when I think of something, take out my handy-dandy phone, type it into my To-Do list, and no forgetting! (Unless I forget to review the list before I leave for work and neglect to buy milk on the way home… not that I’ve ever done that.)

This was working really well when I first got my phone last fall. I was figuring out that when I typed all my random thoughts into my phone that my brain – the meager organ it has seemed to be lately – could actually focus. And I wasn’t as stressed. I was getting really used to that.

Then I got mugged.

Yep – I got mugged at 6:45 on New Year’s Eve morning on the way to work by someone who decided his best instrument of destruction was his forehead. I don’t suggest this. I wasn’t knocked out, but I saw absolutely nothing and definitely fell to the ground pretty fast and stayed there for a good while... 30 seconds?... while I waited for my brain to begin working again. This was when I realized my purse was not in my hand anymore. Har-umph. I got up, walked back home, and buzzed the door for my husband to come get me (no keys – they were in my purse).

Anyway, it could have been worse. I could have been beaten or something, but the worst injury was just a slight deviation of my septum to the left. Well, and a lot of bruising and a lip three times the size it normally is. I won’t post the photos here, they’re yucky. But know that I took the day off work, and I got the following day off because it was New Year’s Day.

Yeah… we didn’t go out New Year’s Eve. I couldn’t really eat or drink well, and I didn’t want to be stared at. So I stayed at home, had dinner with friends, and kept an ice pack on my face. But we still had a good time, honest. I found a way to drink my wine without spilling most of it on myself. Yes, I can adapt pretty well, thank you.

Anyway, so the phone was gone, but because I was smart enough to get the warranty on it in the first place (thank goodness), my new one showed up at my door in two days. Yippee! But of course, life was busy, and I didn’t get it set up the way I liked it for a while. And life got stupid again. And because Matt is taking a HUGE course load (try taking two calculus classes and two physics classes and have a life at the same time, I dare you), I’m trying to pick up the slack around the house. And that slack was often dropping.

Well, last month I finally decided to get my phone organized again. I reorganized my contacts. I re-entered my calendar dates (the ones I could remember). I put a modified budget into it so I could see how much money I spend per month. I have a daily to-do list (call temp agency, pluck eyebrows), and a list for all big projects (organize wedding photos, clean up sewing area). And… really, all is well in the world again.

My apartment has never been so *consistently* clean. EVER.

The dishes are always washed – there’s just something about having a clean sink at night (thanks, FlyLady!) The dresser is no longer a catch-all for random items with no home. The floor is swept (with the help of an easy-to-use mop that I like, not a pain-in-the-rear broom that I hate). The important papers got reorganized in new expandable cardboard (not plastic) file folders (sometimes it’s just nice to buy new things to kick-start a project). And Matt helped to get the closets reorganized, that was a big help. Yay for my husband.

I do believe that because I’m able to keep my life in order, with a system that works for me, my brain is free to think about… well, nothing, sometimes, I can’t lie. But that means I’m less stressed, and I have no problem keeping up with chores and other life-tasks.

Anyway, my point: I feel like a high-maintenance ninny, since I seem to need a piece of electronic junk to keep my life in order.

But it works for me. So… fine. Think what you will. Just don’t take my phone.

However, if you must take my phone, ask nicely. And please don’t head-butt me for it.

Clean on, Personal Digital Assistant lovers.

Waterbirth is awesome

2008-11-07T20:36:00.001-06:00

Yay for more birth workshop learning. One day, I will be out there in the birth world, making birth super, one family at a time. Until then, I will learn lots and store it all in my brain.

The Waterbirth Certification workshop was run by Barbara Harper -- those of you in the birth world know that she's a pretty big deal. (Really, she is. She's awesome.) She is the founder of Waterbirth International, an organization that has brought waterbirth to thousands of US hospitals and dozens of other countries. And I got to learn about it all from her. And I ate lunch with her. Nyah - nyah. :)

Anyway, I learned a lot, about waterbirth and birth in general. There were a bunch of student midwives in there, and she presented information to us that kinda turned some of our learning up-side down... there's definitely no evidence for some of this crap that happens in the hospital... even with midwives. (Preggies: do your homework before making decisions -- or before having them made for you by your provider.)

The biggest thing we birthy people need to remember is that we have to have patience. Quit freaking out. Of course that comes with decades of experience, though, so we all get nervous when things don't go quite as planned until we have enough births under our belts that we're finally confident in our abilities and with the birth process in general. I mean, we're dealing with LIFE here. No wonder we're freaking out a little. (And then blubbering like idiots when the kid is finally born.)

And on the what-kind-of-midwife-am-I-finally-going-to-wind-up-being front: Talked to two fellow birthy colleagues, and there's a pretty awesome two year weekend midwifery program in the city. It's not nurse-midwifery (the Master's degree in nursing kind of midwife), it's for certified professional midwifery (the apprentice for a bunch of years kind of midwife). It's legally touchy in some states, including Illinois, but we'll see. I don't know yet where life is going to put me -- in homes or in hospitals. I want to serve everyone. I still want to get my RN. And then become a midwife... somehow. We'll see. Matt & I don't even know where we're going to live 2 years from now, so I have no idea what life will bring me.

Oh, and Barbara was originally an actress, and recently performed on Broadway in "Birth, the Musical". See... birth and theatre DO mix!

Birth on, everyone.

Caffeine = bad?

2008-11-05T16:44:00.001-06:00

Okay. So I have gone back and forth on the caffeine issue for a long long long time.

"Caffeine is bad, it will kill you slowly!"

"Caffeine is not so bad if you don't have too much, stop worrying."

"Caffeine in tea is just as bad -- and chocolate has it, too!"

"Chemicals in decaffeinated teas are worse than having the caffeine, drink up!"

Seriously. Let's reach a concensus, shall we?

Well, I open Science Daily today, and see this:

Consuming Even Small Amounts Of Caffeine When Pregnant May Affect Growth Of Unborn Child

Great. Here's the article. It basically says that even in small amounts, the more caffeine you have, the higher your risk for a low birth weight baby. Not so good.

Then I looked at the sidebar where they keep related news, and saw this:

Reducing Caffeine Intake Has No Effect On Birth Weight Or Length Of Pregnancy

Right. Here's that article (I'm sure you can guess what it says).

You know, I go back and forth. Here's the obvious:

1. Me on coffee: I get jittery, sweaty, my heart races, and then I crash.
2. Caffeine in diet pills = even worse. (I take no responsibility for the flaws of my past.)
3. Tea has not as much caffeine, but still has some.
4. I AM NOT EVER GIVING UP CHOCOLATE NO MATTER HOW MUCH CAFFEINE IS IN IT. (Just had to make that clear.)

Lately, as Matt drinks caffeinated tea all day, I have started drinking it again. I had it banned from my diet at one time. I don't feel worse for the wear. But if I found out tomorrow I was pregnant, I'd probably lower my intake as much as possible. (I'd still eat chocolate. Obviously.) And I'd tell my other preggies to do the same, or at least tell them no one really knows if it's bad or not and make the choice wisely.

Let's consult Wikipedia. Wikipedia knows all.

Caffeine (paraphrased): Caffeine acts as a central nervous system stimulant and speeds the metabolism. It is the world's most widely consumed psychoactive substance. It is useful for the plant as a pesticide. Its half-life in the system increases with disease or with youth (no wonder kids seem to hang on to a caffeine high for so long!). It may decrease long-term memory and impede learning.

Getting more technical: Caffeine is a competitive inhibitor of adenosine (part of the famous ATP molecule, the thing we use to store and use energy in our body). Oddly, it seems that this would cause brain activity to faulter... maybe that's why people seem to get energetic, but can't keep their thought processes under control. It intensifies and prolongs the effects of epinephrine-like drugs (read: when on meth, caffeine will make your high last longer! Hooray!). It can really screw up a spider's abillity to spin a web. :)

Okay, enough science. Well, I don't like anything that speeds up my metabolism -- our metabolisms are fast enough, thankyouverymuch, and the faster they are, the faster we die (I think). I may use it during an asthma attack to see if it helps to dialate my bronchials. But past that... well, I guess I'll head back to my herbal tea.

But I'm still going to drink some. I like Earl Gray and Chai, what can I say?

Drink up the tea, everyone.

Welcome back, Me!

2008-11-04T15:10:00.000-06:00

Here I am, back again to the world of the blog. After a year-long sabbatical so I could court and marry my husband, it's about time I come back to my readers.

Alright... so it's not so much that people have been clamoring for a blog update from me, but maybe that I feel I have stuff to talk about again. What do I have to talk about?

- babymaking (not mine, other peoples')
- hand lotion and soap (I'm making it and I want to make it, respectively)
- sustainability & the badness of consumerism
- school: mine and my husband's
- cooking yummy things
- natural-ish living & stuff
- brief notes on my husband's interests (wind electricity, guitar playing, math)

... and other things, I'm sure. I can rant pretty well if I feel like it.

I leave you with pictures of our cat and dog. Who doesn't like pet photos? :)

Baloney, Matt's dog. He's a pretty awesome dog (that says a lot coming from this cat girl). He's wearing a bow that came from a wedding gift.

Kiki, peaking out from Matt's backpack (he put her there, she didn't seem to mind). She's down 2 lives (life-threatening illness at 9 weeks, fell out of a 3 story window last month) in 7 months. She needs to start saving those things for when she's a bit older.

Keep writing, everyone!

Things just fall into place.

2007-11-21T08:37:00.000-06:00

For those of you I haven't been able to talk to yet that are wondering:

1. Yes, I'm engaged. (And excited!)
2. I got the ring last Monday night, though we talked about getting married the week prior (so he didn't have to worry about me turning him down). :)
3. We met in our Chemistry class (insert joke about "chemistry" here) at the end of August, and went on our first date in early September.
4. Yes, even though we've only known each other just over 2 months, we are sure and we do know what we're doing (as much as anyone who gets married ever does, anyway).
5. We'll have a small ceremony after the spring semester is over (May-ish). Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease don't feel slighted if you aren't invited -- we're doing a *super small* ceremony, either at our new apartment-to-be or possibly my parent's house in Ohio. We probably won't even invite our entire families. Partially because we want to keep it cozy & intimate, partially because our apartment will be not large. Please don't ask me if you are invited, I will feel really guilty, I already know who I plan to invite, and Matt & I already agreed on this. We'd rather pay for tuition or a house than a huge party for 500 of our closest friends (no offense, it's just more practical).
6. Yes, we will have a larger get-together a few weeks later for those people that we couldn't have at the wedding, which will tenatively be at my parent's place. Because I do want to be able to see lots of people and share our joy. :)

It's so weird. Three months ago I swore up and down that I wanted to move back to Ohio, and there was no point in dating anyone here. Then I decide that Ohio won't work, and at about the same time I meet a wonderful man with whom I'm excited about spending the rest of my life (though he tells me all the time that he's getting the better end of the deal).

It really does sneak up on you when you least expect it. And then it beats you mercilessly over the head until you submit. :)

Warm wishes to everyone I haven't seen in years and and to those I see often.

You probably aren't concerned with pregnancy or breastfeeding...

2007-11-01T11:11:00.001-05:00

...but this is the sort of thing that frustrates me SO MUCH. It's long, but you'll get the gist of it if you take just a minute to skim it, if you don't mind.

article.

This explains how legislators, corporations, and pharmaceutical companies don't have mothers' & babies' best interest in mind. They go against the WHO's (World Health Organization's) codes in the name of advertisement and profit.

I really hope I can make at least a little bit of a difference one day. Please, *please*, God, let me make a difference.

Wait -- was that Halloween that just passed me by?

2007-10-29T11:08:00.000-05:00

So Halloween was very anticlimactic this year. Not totally sure why, though I have a few ideas:

1. Instead of starting my costume in the summer, spending hundreds of dollars on yards and yards of fabric, allowing my sewing machine to consume hours upon hours upon days upon weeks of my life, all in the name of a beautiful historical recreation… I spent maybe 10 hours on a cute little lion costume. No, not horribly impressive from my typical costume perspective, but a very good concept of a lion. I was cute, I could move, and although my leg warmers didn’t stay up I consider it a success:

2. I only went to one party this year, as opposed to the three last year. Over two weekends. Wearing three different costumes. It was pretty fantastic. This year was much more low key, which is fine with me. I got to Amy & Dan’s by about 2:30, we chatted, I sewed my tail and ears, we got ourselves all done up, got food together, and started the soirée. Then I left by 10 pm because I was tired. But all in all, a good time, anyway.

3. What – I’ve been dating a wonderful man for the past month and a half who has been taking up a lot of my time and I haven't really been concerned with silly little things like sewing? I don’t know what you’re talking about. I deny everything.

Anyway, Halloween was still good enough to count. And I’m happy, and I got some good sleep, and I’m not really stressed out right now. I’m relearning math and music theory vicariously through Matt’s schoolwork, and my chemistry class is going as well as can be expected. I may have found a way to volunteer as a doula at a very good local hospital on weekends, which means I don’t have to worry about being on call all the time with this full time job and classes and all. I’m going home at Thanksgiving (how about that!) and bringing Matt with me. So things are good.

Hope you all had a good Halloween. Enjoy the rest of it, and give those trick-or-treaters the good stuff.

Something about the "Best-Laid Plans"...

2007-09-18T10:35:00.000-05:00

After a long month (and much more drama coming down the pipe), I’ve finally determined – it’s just not possible for me to come home to Ohio to go to school next year. My new goal is The University of Illinois-Chicago… my original goal from last year. If things go as planned, I will apply this January for admission in January of 2009.

I know, I’m kinda sad about it, too, since I was looking forward to be back with old friends and family. But it’s not the end of the world.

My reasons:

1. Only $80,000 of debt vs. almost $200,000.

2. Two more classes to take vs. five.

3. $1000 worth of prerequisite classes vs. almost $10,000.

4. More time to learn Spanish.

5. More time to work as a doula.

6. The government-subsidized tuition reimbursement jobs that are in Illinois, but not as plentiful in Ohio.

7. My Sanity (or what is left of it).

Seriously, I’m getting tired from the amount of time I need to prepare and from trying to pay for all these classes. I’m worn out, which means I’m not doing my job at work, things fall through the cracks, which creates even more stress. Everything is snowballing more than I planned. I’m a hardy gal, but you can only take so much. I really liked the idea of coming back to Ohio, but it’s just not going to be feasible or realistic right now.

I’m reminded – we can plan until we are blue in the face, but life will always throw in its own twists & turns. No, we’re not subjects in someone’s cruel chess match, but we have to be adaptable. Go with the flow. My lifepath doesn’t rely solely on the opportunities taken, chances thrown aside, or the mishaps that have occurred, but it sure does make things interesting as doors open and close.

Perhaps this extra time will give me an opportunity to travel a bit this summer, to visit as many people as I can in Minnesota and Ohio. I hope you all forgive me as I take back my plans – I miss all of you dearly.

Dream big, and keep those doors freely swinging.

Moving, take two.

2007-09-10T12:30:00.001-05:00

Ah, moving. I know all about how it goes. I do it a lot. (I just did it 3 months ago.)

Recap: a week and a half ago, I was given permission to break my current lease because of a horribly leaky ceiling that would require a torn-up ceiling. That didn’t bother me as much as the landlord’s lack of communication skills, which was the main reason to really break the lease. That and I could find a place cheap enough that I could save more for school. I found my place that night, and after a week of keeping on top of the management company, I finally got myself a signed lease. After that same week of not being able to get a hold of the old landlord, I was finally able to talk to him and get some papers signed. The scene was finally set.

Thursday before I stop to sign the lease, I go pick up my Uhaul -- a very large van that I could keep until Sunday night. I wind up being late to the lease signing because the trash pick-up truck was blocking my van. I was concerned I wouldnt get there in time to sign the lease (just something else that would have gone wrong), but I still get everything set. I get to the old place, get some things together, then Julie comes to my place to help. We load up shelves and kitchen stuff, and are on our way around 9pm. We pull up in my designated parking (an illegal parking spot directly behind a stop sign, but directly in front of my door), and I stop. Then I remember where the keys to my new place are.

At my old apartment. In my purse that I didn’t want to take with me.

So we go back to the old place, I get the keys, and go back to the new place. Julie and I get out and go to the back of the truck to unload.

That’s when I realize: I locked the truck keys in the truck with it running. Seriously.

We laugh (what else can you do at this point, I’ve been running on adrenaline for days already). We get ignored when we ask passers-by to use their cell phone (ours are in the truck). We don’t have the number for AAA anyway, and no businesses around have a phone book. Not even the neighborhood gay bar a few doors down has one.

Then, salvation -- Julie sees a tow truck coming down the road, and she jumps in front of it, practically getting killed. We stop him, ask how much it would be for him to get into my truck, and he says $25. Fine, whatever, just get my keys out of the truck. He does this, we give him money, and we’re on our way. It’s 10:45.

We unload into the hallway, pull the truck into the alley, then start hauling things into my new place. As we’re doing this, I meet my new neighbors: 3 Russian girls living in the studio apartment next door, who are on their way to the fire escape to smoke while wearing only tank tops & panties.

...What? Julie & I laughed. This is surreal. It’s like we’re in every man’s fantasy. (Which, when I told the guys at work the next day, they ALL offered to help me move. Though I’m sure they wouldn’t be all that helpful at that point.)

We got everything in and decided to call it a night. We drive back to my place, and try to find parking.

We’re looking for parking. At 1 am on a Thursday. For a HUGE Uhaul van. ...right.
We eventually find parking, a mile away, west of Ridge Rd. We walk back, and I’m in bed at 2am.

... Just as a side note, I’ve be getting to work early this week -- by 7am everyday -- because of a HUGE project that had an astronomical amount of expenses and invoicing that had to be out before I started moving. So between that and the move, it’s no wonder I’m so tired I locked the keys in the truck. But I digress.

Friday went well. Work was still busy, but Mary and I were able to move all my sewing stuff and put up shelves without a hitch.

Saturday morning I decide to take a load in before I go to my Chemistry class at 9 am downtown. I decide to take a load, drive to class, then have all my furniture donations in the van already so I can drop them off between class and picking up my mom from the train station. I get up at 5am, get things packed, and realized that moving even small furniture can be a two-person job. I’m not going too fast, but getting to class a half-hour late won’t kill me. I get to the new place, load everything in the elevator, and head up. I start unloading everything into the hallway, but the door is heavy and eventually closes. Then it goes up a few feet and stops.

The elevator just broke.

The elevator just broke with all my bedding, towels, and cleaning supplies. I’m surrounded by boxes of heavy books. And somehow, I realize I’m on the 4th floor, not the fifth, which I didn’t realize before I started unloading. I'm not sure what happened, but apparently the elevator hiccuped on its way to the 5th floor. The only phone number I have is for the management office, and I don’t even know if they’re open on Saturdays. ...I hear people up and moving in the apartment next to the elevator, and I knock on the door.

It’s three some-sort-of-asian-or-pacific-descent girls in this studio (does the management company not care about fire codes?), and I ask for a number. They have one, hooray! I call the number. I had been told that the normal building manager is on vacation until Sunday, but the calls get directed to the on-call person.

Except that the voicemailbox is full, and I can’t leave a message. Dammit.

I decide to take my books that are currently in the hallway up to my apartment (at least it’s only one floor), and then try calling again. Still no answer, with the management or the building guy. Okay, fine -- I’m going to the grocery store while I wait. I don’t know the people in this building, I’m not leaving for longer than a half-hour if I can’t watch my stuff in the broken elevator.

I go, I come back. I put things away. I call -- an answer! The management company lady said she’d at least get the freight elevator unlocked, but she couldn’t tell me if the elevator could get released sooner than Monday (Monday!!!), but she had my number, and would call when it got fixed. At least I got to someone.

At this time, it’s 11:30. I’m obviously not getting to class. (Sad -- not because I wanted to learn about chemistry, but because I wanted to see the cute boy in class with whom I’ve been email-flirting.) Anyway, I decide to clean the place with new cleaning supplies I just bought (so now I’ll have stock, once I can get my stuff from the elevator), and then unpack my kitchen. It was time well-spent, at least, and I got a lot done.

I take the old furniture to the Brown Elephant on Clark (more illegal parking), and then pick up my mom. We go to the old place, start doing a few things, and then I get a few people to show up -- Jason, Amy & Dan, and Matt & one of his friends (also named Matt, that made things easy). There was lots of beer, pizza, cookies, and ice cream sandwiches. (I know how to treat my help.) We load the van. We unload the van (Matt & Matt leave after earning their beer). We go back and load the van again (Jason leaves at this point, he earned his beer), and unload (Amy & Dan left after unloading the boxsprings, they also earned their beer).

Later, Julie comes back to help my mother & I organize a bit. I wish we had remembered to take a photo of the place before we started organizing -- it was a mess. This first photo hardly does the chaos justice. So much stuff, not much space, and it looked ridiculous. I am finally completely spent, my brain is mush, Julie leaves, and my mom & I go to sleep.

The next morning we’re up early, reorganizing so we have enough room to bring the last few items and make a Target run. We leave, go to Target, drop off Target items at the new place, pick up more donations, drop off the donations (more illegal parking), then head to the old place. We clean and pack the truck, almost forgetting a number of things in cabinets (and eggs -- we almost left eggs in the fridge). I leave a note with my forwarding address and keys, and we’re out. We unload (amongst children playing basketball with a milk crate in the alley), drop of the truck (late, so I’ll get slapped with a $25 fee plus the extra mileage fee), pick up food, and head home.

My head hit the pillow at midnight, and I doubt I was awake at 12:01.

After selecting a few items to get rid of, the place is looking okay. Not cluttered (unless you go into the walk-in closet, then all bets are off). And even with my space-utilizing skills, my mom was a huge help, I know I couldn't have gotten the place like it is without here. Sure it’s small, but I’m saving money, I’ll be forced to whittle down my possessions for when I move back to Ohio in May... and I do like the place.

Today I’ll finish getting the place together and study some chemistry. Back to work tomorrow, and I don’t want to think about how much work I’ll have after being gone, but I’ll survive.

Housewarming parties will be at the end of September. Say hi to the Russians if you see them in the hallway.

Moving... again...

2007-09-03T12:29:00.000-05:00

So those of you that didn’t get a chance to visit me and see my new apartment yet -- your time has run out. :)

As my ceiling has been leaking for a few weeks (almost 2 gallons of water came through my roof during the last big storm!), my landlord has told me I could break the lease and leave. I’m not horribly concerned about the ceiling -- it’s annoying to keep two large bins under my leak, but it seems fixable. The ceiling would have to get torn out, but that would only last a week or two. Not really something I would move for, I’m not that easily annoyed. Check out the photos. I will say, though, that it did worry me when he said I could break the lease -- landlords don’t do that. So it probably is worse than it looks.

I am taking him up on the offer, mostly just to have the chance to move to a cheaper place. (Well, that and the fact that he has crappy communication skills, even when his tenant's living space is technically violating building codes.) When I signed the lease in March, I thought I only had 3 more prerequisite classes to take to get into nursing school. I found out later that I had 7 to take, half of them being about or more than $1000 each. So I was a bit crunched, but it was still do-able. Moving to a place $150 cheaper will give me some breathing room, and I’m looking forward to it.

Where am I moving, you ask? Well as long as all the paperwork goes through on Tuesday as planned, I’ll be moving to Sheridan between Foster & Argyle. It’s a good price, and it’s a sublease with the end date of May 31st (perfect for leaving for Ohio). It’s a nice little studio. About 400 square feet. I repeat... little studio.

I hear some of you who know me say, “Hah! You? Move into a little studio? With all the stuff YOU have? No way!”

I don’t blame you, I know I have a ridiculous amount of crap. I laughed at myself when I checked the place out for the first time, I won’t lie. But I’ve got it all figured out. I did a floor plan in my anal-retentive-planner kind of way, and I think this will work. It will be a stretch (or, I suppose, a crunch), but my plan was to move into a little studio when I got to Ohio, anyway. Might as well get used to it now.

Anyway, my apartment is all boxed up again. I did love the place, but I always knew it was more than I needed. I’ll be renting a moving van next Thursday through Saturday. I want to do this over the course of a few days -- to gradually trickle my stuff into the place, and to keep me from going insane like I did last time -- and I want a smaller vehicle instead of a truck that I can park on the street while I take my time.

So here it comes, the plea for help -- anyone have next Saturday afternoon/ evening free? I’m not imposing an entire apartment full of stuff on anyone, no way. Most of it will be moved on Friday. I just need help moving the things I can’t do myself: mattress & boxsprings, small loveseat, endtables, and a small desk. And it all fits in the elevator, so you don’t even have to do stairs. We’ll probably make 2 - 3 trips, it shouldn’t be bad. And you’ll get food for your effort. It’ll be the easiest move you’ve ever helped with, I swear. Last time I had movers -- SO worth the money -- but with this being last minute, I couldn’t make it work. So... please help. [pouty face] :)

So that’s me right now. [whew] Oh, and I got my root canal -- it was fine, not traumatic, I just need to get my crown now. Maybe something platinum with a diamond, we’ll see what happens. The chemistry class is fine, a very nice, warm, quirky, grandfathery kind of guy is teaching it, and boy does he love teaching. It’ll be a good time, even if it is on Saturday mornings.

But back to the move -- they say bad things come in threes, whether that’s just how we perceive it or luck or what-have-you, who knows. And then I started thinking: I moved into the very first place Sivie & looked at when we moved to Chicago, and it seemed pretty great... until we found out that our landlord didn’t realize that being a landlord actually took work. And got some great pet squirrels and mice in the meantime. Then, instead of trying to find a place on my own last spring, I opted to take Mike’s terrific place in Rogers Park, almost sight unseen, and I loved it. And then the roof leaked enough for me to break a lease after only three months. This time, I got a call from my landlord on Thursday, was told I could break a lease, searched that day for a new place, saw two that night, and I’m going to be taking the first apartment I saw. ...I hope I’m not doomed. :)

There will be a housewarming party... correction, there may be a few housewarming parties, since my new place can seat... oh, let’s say... *five*... people comfortably. :) Yeah, no large potlucks at this place. But a few small ones can’t hurt anything. Details coming in a few weeks. Not like it’ll take me *that* long to set up the teeny place.

But all that said, I’m excited. No matter how much moving bites the big one sometimes, new beginnings are always fun & interesting.

So... I’m going to get back to packing. Hope your ceilings stay dry.

A glimmer of the new me...

2007-07-17T10:58:00.000-05:00

Oh man, was it an interesting weekend.

-- I had a drunk (but non-belligerent) 21-yr-old Loyola student practically follow me home late Friday night because the trains all had alternate routes, and he wasn’t sure how to get back home. I decided he didn’t have any reason to try to hurt me, so I let him follow me to the train. The poor thing was kinda helpless.

-- I got hit on by an African immigrant who asked if I was Polish while out wandering the neighborhood on Saturday, and we chatted for a while. Fine, he was nice & respectful, no big deal. But he wanted to date while he went to med school in Poland. (Long distance was obviously not a problem for him.) Even if that hadn’t been an issue, he thought that “I seem so intelligent, why would you want to be a nurse? I just don’t want to have to take orders all the time, so I will be a physician.” And then, “But when will you start your family? They tell us in school that we will have less and less time for our family as time goes on, we are told we should start one now.” I’m not popping out any babies for you right now, sir. And if you’re going to be the type of physician that takes on so many patients that you can’t find time to actually help them all (let alone finding time for your personal life), you are exactly the kind of doctor that made me want to enter the medical profession as a nurse. Thank you very much, no I will not meet you at the Borders down the street tomorrow, no I will not give you my phone number, have a nice day.

But the best part of the weekend? I was a doula!!! (Yes, multiple explanation points are required. I am that excited.)

I will spare you all the gruesome/emotional details, as I'm sure a summary will be just fine for most of you.

It happened so fast. I heard about the mother-to-be on Thursday afternoon, emailed her, Friday morning I got an email back, called her that afternoon to hear that she was in labor, then headed out to Geneva (WAAAY out in the west burbs) in time for the birth. I had never met her before then, so it was a weird way of bonding with someone to say the least. It was a pretty easy birth (though she didn’t think so), so it was a great first experience for me. It was so fantastic. And I even got to teach the mother to breastfeed (although, as my mother corrected me, I taught myself how to teach someone to breastfeed, seeing as I have neither taught someone to breastfeed nor have I breastfed a child myself). And the mother sent me an email:

Kate,
Thank you so much for being there for me when I was delivering! You were so calm and supportive. You really were extremely helpful to me and I am so happy that you were there. I will email the pic of us soon. If you're comfortable with it, please send me your snail mail address so I can send you an official birth announcement. I still can't believe that I actually gave birth, it was so much hard work it was difficult to maintain a positive attitude during it but you helped so much. You will be a wonderful midwife! My daughter and I thank you immensely!
Thank you SO MUCH!

I feel very warm & fuzzy. :) [sigh]

And for the next few weekends I get to sit in on a childbirth class and rub elbows with a few mothers due in the fall… hopefully I’ll be able to get even more experience! I’m so excited. I’m on my way!

Dream big, everyone.

prerequisites, tests, and root canals

2007-06-27T16:56:00.000-05:00

Imbroglio [im-BROHL-yoh] noun:
1. an intricate and confusing interpersonal or political situation
2. an complicated and perplexing state of affairs
3. a confused heap

Now that we've seen my word of the day ...moving on.

As most of you know, I'm getting ready to go back to school, essentially, to be a nurse of sorts. This requires me to take a number of prerequisite classes before I start, since I didn't take hardly any science or math classes for my undergrad theatre degree. (Surprise.) I've taken a few so far. Left to take:

Statistics
Microbiology
Organic Chemistry
Human Development

Four classes. No problem. Plenty of time to get that done between now and next August. Then I emailed the woman in charge of deciding what classes count, and checked course schedules and course requirements.

I can't take just any stats class, I have to take one specifically for nurses. And the only places that have that class require me to take a college algebra class. So I have to take algebra this year and the specific stat class at Akron U next summer, because that's the only place I can get to between now and then that only has one class requirement instead of two.

In order to take Organic chemistry, I have to take Chem I (and possibly Chem II, unless I find a way out of it, like writing a paper, taking a test, or schtupping the prof, but I'll deal with that halfway through the fall semester). So I have to take Chem I in the Fall so I can take Org Chem in the Spring. In order to take Chem I, I have to have taken college algebra. Which I have to take anyway. Except that I have to take algebra and chem both in the fall to make the timing work, so I'll have to try to test out of the algebra class for the chem class. And then still take the stupid algebra class, anyway, for the stat class.

Human Development is essentially the development of a human being, birth to grave. I found only two colleges I can get to with that specific class. One is Tri-C in Cleveland. The other is University of Phoenix Online. It does count, but is $494 a credit hour for a 3-credit class. Thanks, but no thanks. I'll take Tri-C next summer.

Microbiology must be a 4 credit hour class, and include a lab. No classes like that around here that I can get after work hours, amazingly enough. So Tri-C college in Cleveland next summer it is. Which then means that I now have to take the REALLY expensive Human Development class from friggin' Univ of Phoenix for $1600, because I don't think I can take more than 2 classes in the summer. And I have to plan on possibly having to take Org Chem then, anyway.

So, the grand total:

College Algebra
Statistics
Chem I
Chem II (or prostitution, whatever)
Organic Chemistry
Microbiology
Human Growth & Development

Seven classes between now and next August. Plus working a 40-hour week (that will hopefully allow for me to pay for all these classes). Whew. No one will see me starting August 27th unless I work with you or you're in class with me... so don't think I've forsaken you. My schedule is just a bit crazy.

Also on my list: volunteering. I figure I should at least have, you know... SEEN a birth before I decide to spend an insane amount of money on learning how to make that my career. I've tried to get some experience over the past year, and midwives are happy to help, but the mothers seem to think birth is a private event or something. And then, if the midwife works at a non-profit, there are confidentiality issues that prevent them from having an unsigned assistant. So it's not been easy. But Monday I spent a few hours after work emailing birth centers, doula services, and other groups, and I think I may have a few leads. So that's good.

I'll be taking a childbirth class in August, for experience and for working toward my doula certification. It will be a good opportunity to network a bit. But it also has its last class on the weekend I was going to visit back home for a huge camp reunion... so the reunion is out. Sad. But you gotta do what you gotta do.

I need to take the GRE exam (ridiculous vocabulary and math be damned), the MAT (an exam that requires me to know a little bit about everything EVER). Hopefully I'll have given myself enough time to study by the end of August. Good luck to me.

I plan on learning Spanish in time for me to put that on my applications. I'll put some learn-Spanish-by-CD lessons on my ipod, and listen on the way into work every morning. That is, every morning I don't feel like studying for the GRE or MAT. I have a commute of an hour and a half from the new place, so there's plenty of time. :)

Ooh, and I get a root canal in August! At least I'll be able to chew on the left side of my mouth again. I hear you're supposed to be able to chew on both sides of your mouth. So that will be exciting.

We're not going to discuss the ratio of money earned to money that must be spent on classes and doctors.

This WILL all be worth it. I know it will, I'm not worried, and I'm not just saying that. The idea that I'll be helping & teaching & empowering women and their families to bring their children into the world in the safest, most caring environment possible makes me... I don't know. I just feel so good about it. I know I want to try to help bring more midwives into Ohio, that's for sure. And I really want to see if I can get involved with a program for lower income, single, or teen mothers. I think that's so important.

On an unrealated note, I'm excited to take my camera to the Taste of Chicago next week. Lots of crazy people and free music, including: Los Lonley Boys, Soul Asylum, John Mayer, and The Black Crowes. Pretty excited for that. :)

Well, anyway... that's that for now. Make it worth it, everyone.

Ugh, moving.

2007-05-25T09:05:00.000-05:00

I moved! Finally, for cryin' out loud. I feel like I've been talking about moving for months. (Okay, so I *have* been talking about moving for months... whatever.)

"So, Kate, I bet your move went wonderfully smoothly! A great experience, to be sure!"

No, not really.

Wednesday, 6 am: I get up. Get food, shower, put a few last things in a box, nothing out of the ordinary yet. I go to the Uhaul place to get my truck.

8am: The place is supposed to open so I can get my truck in time to get home and meet the movers at my place. They're not open yet, but they probably just haven't gotten themselves up front to open the door.

8:05: not open.

8:10: not open. What's going on? The sign says they open at 8.

8:15: Call the phone number of the location. No answer, surprise. Call the Uhaul 800 number to get info. Purse strap breaks, making holding the purse difficult.

8:20: While on hold with Uhaul, the guy walks up to the front door where I'm standing, unlocks it, walks in, and I follow him. Not a word. No "Sorry you had to wait", or even a "Hello". Nothing. He gets to the counter, I get to the counter, he turns on his computer, and he says, "Yeah?" Um, I'm here to get my truck that I called to confirm yesterday that was an 8am pick up. No big deal. [sigh] I get my truck, think about how much I don't like driving a 17' long vehicle, and start driving back.

8:50: The movers call me, saying they're there. I'm still trying to get home. I tell them I'll be there in 5 minutes.

9:00: Meet the movers (two kids that maybe just graduated high school -- but they look hardy, and they mean I don't have to work too hard before I get to the new place). I show them my stuff, and get them started while I tape up a few last boxes.

10:00: They're not going too fast. I start helping them.

10:30: We were supposed to be leaving for the new place by now. I mention this to one of the guys, ask how overtime works, and then they are surprised when I say that they're supposed to follow me to my new place to unload. I call the landlord to let him know I'll be there late.

11:20: I give the guys the maps, I call the landlord, and we're off. Friggin' finally. I'm tired, since I've been working just as hard as they have been. No big deal, I won't die, I'm a hardy sort.

12:00: At the new place in Rogers Park. I park across the street, where there happens to be an elementary school. I get out of the truck, tell the guys to wait there... then get yelled at by a woman from the school saying that the busses will be coming any minute. I move the truck to the corner, telling her I'll be back to move the truck to the alley after I meet the landlord. I get in, meet up with the landlord to get the keys, and get back to the truck to find the alley.

12:15: Meet the movers in the alley, and we start. I tell them I will at least pay them until 1pm (since I had them until noon), and then we'll talk from there.

1:00: There is NO WAY we will be done until after two. I am WAY too tired and annoyed to discuss this with them at this point. I call my boss, and tell her I won't be in until noon. She tells me I don't need to come in at all. I hesitate, then with her coaxing, I say I'll call in the morning to let her know. I go back to unpacking my stuff.

2:00: Still unpacking.

2:30: The last bit finally gets into the apartment, hooray! We go back to the truck to get the payment code I need to give them. I ask how we should deal with the overtime, they say normally it's a check or cash... I tell them I'll talk to Flip (the manager -- yes, his name is Flip) and ask him about it.

2:40: I'm just barely out of the alley, and Flip calls. He asks how things went, I say fine (I didn't feel like being angry right then), and I ask how to deal with the overtime. He says that if I do a credit card payment I'd have to do it online through eMove again, and it would be confusing (cancelling & reordering), so sending a check is the best way. He says it will be an extra $125. (Ha!) I tell him I'll send it in the mail tomorrow. I have no intention of doing so before I call him again -- that will happen tomorrow when I've had time to regain my brain.

3:15: Return the truck. I think the guy there just doesn't talk much. I leave, and get on the Damen bus going north.

4:00: Get off the Damen bus at Clark (the last stop) and walk over to get on the Clark bus the rest of the way to my place. I look across the street and see an Ace Hardware -- what luck, because I really need a ladder in my new place! I go in, buy the last lightweight little 6' ladder, and walk across the street to get on the bus.

4:20: Bus comes. I try to get on it, but the man looks at me with surprise, and tells me I can't ride a CTA bus with a ladder. ...are you kidding? People take bigger, more cumbersome things on the bus all the time! (I know, I've been one of those people.) I stand there, let the bus leave, and think -- a cab. I must get a cab. I finally get one. Then I try to put the ladder in. It won't fit. Crap. I'm going to have to walk home. I'm going to have to walk home. I'M GOING TO HAVE TO WALK HOME. With a ladder and a broken purse. [sigh] This is not going as smoothly as I had hoped. I'm at Clark & Thorndale. I'm going to have to walk a mile and a half. With a ladder. And a broken purse. I'm so tired.

4:50: Abigail calls. Slight drama at work -- catering for an event tomorrow hasn't been confirmed. We discuss, decide she'll call them in the morning when she gets up for work, since they are already closed for the day. I tell her that there's no way in hell that I'll be in to work tomorrow, but call if she needs me.

5:30: I'm back. Home, at last. I sit and call Amy. Explain my day. She tells me she'll be over in a little bit, after she finishes painting her new kitchen for the day. I hang my cool new bamboo ring-thingies on the living room wall because I'm really excited to see what they look like. Then I try to do a few other things. Not generally succeeding.

7:20: Amy & Dan arrive. By this time, my attention span and memory is that of a gnat's, and I can't really form coherent sentences. My parents call, try really hard to converse with them & Amy & Dan while trying to find things in boxes... really not doing a good job of it. At least I can find dishes. We order Thai food, and eat the strawberry ice cream they brought. I sit for almost an entire half hour (this does me lots of good).

8:00: Food arrives. Not bad, but definitely not impressed. I will need to find a different place to get pad thai next time.

8:30: We rearrange the living room. It's really starting to come together. Oh man, I'm going to Love this place.

9:00: Amy & Dan leave, I take a bath (I have a bathtub!), and go to bed. I sleep REALLY well.

Thursday, 6:15 am: Wake up. [sigh] Old habits die hard. :) Oh, and my throat is kinda swollen. Time for me to take benadryl so my dust allergy doesn't give me a sinus infection. (Stupid sinuses.) Fall back asleep.

7:00: Abigail calls. She can't get a hold of the caterer. We have no idea if we're getting food catered in. It's supposed to be there in 45 minutes. This could get bad. Luckily, she has the phone number for the business' second location. I tell her to call them to have them help, then call me back.

7:40: After a number of phone calls on Abigail's part, catering winds up being fine. Crisis averted.

11:00: Call Flip. Since I don't debate or complain to businesses well, I wind up paying for most of the overtime (but not all). I did have a lot of stuff, and lots of stairs. I wouldn't have minded, but if it was going to take that long I wish I had known. I told him how much stuff I had and how many stairs there were, he should have been able to tell me how long it could take. He's a mover, he knows these things. ...oh well. I don't feel like being angry about it.

Rest of Thursday: Pittering around the place, putting up shelves, putting things away, and everything else that goes with moving. Very happy. The big stuff is all in place, but not the little stuff. I need to figure out how I want to organize this place. At least I have a long weekend before my parents come into town next week.

But now I'm at work. I'm still sore, and tired. At least I like my new place. Here's my new living room:

Housewarming party: Saturday, June 9th. Be there, everyone.

Money... bah.

2007-03-02T23:42:00.000-06:00

Money sucks.

...That was a broad, vague statement. Let me explain.

So, my credit has been kind of crappy in the past. ('Kind of crappy' being a technical term for 'extremely bad'.) Chalk it up to being a poor student and artist for a while, and not wanting to own up to even my relatively small credit card bill. Irresponsible, I know. But in the past month I have managed to finish paying off all my bills, checked my credit scores, and got a secured credit card so I can rebuild my credit. Gotta get my credit score up… so I can more easily go into debt for grad school, you know.

And I have a frugal (read: cheap-ass) budget. One that I'm actually sticking to. I'm quite proud.

For those of you who are curious -- I bought ramen noodles. (Go ahead and read that last sentence again if you'd like.)

Anybody need some advice or info on building credit, you know where to go. (Me.)

Money sucks. More.

There's the stigma around us that without lots of money and stuff, we can't be happy. I mean, look at all those happy suits with their pretty sparkly stuff walking down the street during the morning commute! But then, we are told (and we preach) that money can't bring us true happiness, so we push money away to live the 'higher' life and choose our low-paying career. We live the life bohemia, and act as though living on nothing for forever is what we want.

The bottom line: we need money to survive. So if we don't start socking a lot of it away now, we'll have nothing to live on when we get old and can't work as hard any more. I don't plan on having to whine to my future children's family about how I'm broke at 80 years old because I didn't plan ahead and now they have to support me. No way.

Some of you may say – you shouldn't need to save that much! If you have more than you need, give it to those in need! Good point – but no. I'm planning ahead. If I've saved enough, I can still live frugally when I'm old, and donate in my will. And those of you who say 'donate now, people need it now, quit hoarding' – well, my hoarded money will gain interest, so I'll have more to donate if I save it for decades. I'll be able to give more away. Well -- that is, as long as I keep myself in check. If I don't, then go ahead and call me a selfish old creep when I'm 80.

On a separate note, if anyone needs to crash on a couch in town, I'll have my own place starting June 1st. Woo-hoo! (And if anyone has a couch they want to get rid of, I could use one.)

I'm kinda feeling a little adult-like. And I can't say I mind. …weird.

Happy adult-ing, everyone.

Procrastination: musings on the imminent Hallmark Holiday

2007-02-12T20:02:00.000-06:00

Ah, Valentine's Day. A day for lovers. A day for loved ones. A day for that chubby naked kid to fly around hitting people with heart-tipped pink and red arrows.

I, unlike some, do not dislike this upcoming day.

A friend once said to me: why is it always about marriage? Everytime you go on a date or talk about someone you are dating, you talk about how you can or cannot see yourself married to him. Why is that your focus? I replied: Well, it's not my total focus. But I don't want to date someone mean, disrespectful, or dumb. That would be annoying. So anyone I do date is nice, respectful, and intelligent. Which means they are decent. Which means 'marriage material', so to say, by default.

One said: I don't know how you do it. You date someone, and are unafraid to just dive in. You get great love, but when you fall, you fall hard. I just can't do that. I just can't believe that it's going to work.

Friends sometimes ask about 'the boy situation'. Last Sunday, I told my dad, "Oh, I just don't feel like dealing with it right now, putting effort or energy into that sort of thing." Because when I do date someone, it's with a purpose. Not casually. I just see no point in that.

I have had the fortune to have dated two wonderful men in my life so far. I loved them dearly, and still do in my way. I'm sure the feelings were (and still are, in their way) returned. But it's hard to crash after something like that.

What I have figured out? That two people can love each other, think the world of each other, and still not end up together. I don't get it, and don't completely understand why, but it's true. Some people think that just because they care for each other -- well, of course they should marry. But I don't think that should be the case. One person -- or both -- should be able to say 'I adore you, and think you're great, but I just can't see myself married to you'. Sure, it's hard -- for both people. It hurts to be dumped, and it hurts to know you're hurting someone you love. And although it seems like a personal attack, it's not -- though it kind of is, but kind of not... in a weird way I don't think I can explain. And it may be that neither person can put a finger on what the thing is, but that doesn't matter. You may never be able to put the reason into words. That's okay. Life will go on. And someone else will come along, because that's how it works.

But you'd better be able to say 'no' if you're not sure, because you need to live with the choice. You have to be sure when you choose. It won't always be great. There will be bad days. Horrible weeks. Off months. There will probably be entire years that seem like things aren't quite right. There will be disagreements over where to eat dinner, what color couch to buy, whose past is coming back to haunt them, how to save for retirement, who is having the mid-life crisis, how to raise the kids, whose home to visit this year during the holidays. It ebbs and flows. You have to be choosy, because you aren't just choosing someone you want by your side. You are also choosing the person you would rather most to have to disagree with. You are choosing the person with whom you will want to always work things out... even when you kind of don't want to, or you would really just rather have your own way. But you've chosen to always make things work in the end with this person. Not everyone you fall for will be that person.

I'm not going to rush myself. And I don't feel like being stressed out over finding my someone. I will not roll over and die if I'm not married with children by the time I'm 30. In fact, the idea still is a bit weird, no matter how many of my friends are jumping on the marriage bandwagon. But I will dive in when presented with an opportunity. It's the only way to find out what's ahead. As emotionally unstable a situation as it is.

Many singles hate Valentine's Day. Some wear black and sneer at happy couples on the street. I refuse to hate this holiday. I take this day to celebrate past loves, current loves, and future loves.

Cheesy? Sure. Hopeful? Of course. But true & sincere, nonetheless. ...so there. :)

Be unafraid to love, everyone.

Some resolutions.

2007-01-07T23:44:00.000-06:00

Though I normally don't care for resolutions -- they have a nasty habit of getting broken, and who says we have to wait for January 1st to decide to make a change? -- I think I will have a few this year.

I never make 'lose weight' or 'find a good man' my resolutions. That's just asking to fail. Not that I'm that pessimistic over those issues. But I think I'm doing pretty good on the health front (for the most part), and I don't want to put pressure on myself for either issue. Besides, too many people try to resolve those sorts of things, and fail, so they've got a bad rep. Better to stay away from them.

...although, my junior year of college I made a health resolution: eat less salt. I couldn't think of anything else, and I knew I had been a salt fiend -- and so that was it. And I did well -- by the end of the year, I couldn't find salt in the house for a cookie recipie. Annoying at the time, but at least I knew I had kicked the salt habit.

I'd like to make some sort of resolution about money, but I'm not sure how to do it. Too much like the about fitness and love resolutions -- very likely to fail. But very important to me this year, starting school and all. And the fact that the 19 year old receptionist at work has a better hold of money issues makes me cringe for myself. Must do something. Must do something. Must do something. Maybe just be more aware of where it all goes.

Last year, my resolution was to take better care of myself, no matter if it meant hurting other people in the process. Not that I became all Machiavellian and stepped on poor helpless souls to get ahead in life. I mean: if I am in a situation but it's not quite good for me, but I stay because it's good for someone else, and I just don't want that person to hurt -- don't do that. Be aware of what's good for me, and take care of myself before other people. I am my priority at this point in my life. No one else will look out for me like I can, so I'd better do it. And I think I did very well with that. I had my moments that I faultered, but in general I'm pretty proud of myself.

But for the new stuff: I want to figure out where I sit with religion, I want to keep my room clean on a regular basis, I want to be closer to my mother's side of the family, I want to get better at photography, I want to learn how to use my new Mac better. But too many resolutions lead to a scattered year. Don't try to do too much at once. Can't spread your attentions too far.

So here we go:

1. Pay attention to where the money goes. That's all. I want to be more careful with saving, but that's just a bonus. Baby steps here. Maybe I'll make use of my Quicken software. That's a good idea. (I think I had forgotten I even had it.)

2. Continue taking care of myself. It got harder at the end of the year, but I need to pay attention to where my thoughts are. I can't do anything about things in which I have no say in the matter, and dwelling on the bad stuff wears out the self. Staying up is hard, but that's why I have my friends to lean on.

3. Keep up with the religion issue. I don't want to put pressure on myself for making any decisions -- the slower I step in without other people's opinions, the more likely the decision will be mine alone. So just paying attention to myself is the best thing in this case.

So I suppose my resolutions all revolve around self-awareness.... and that sounds just a little 'new-age-y' for my taste. But I don't want to set myself up for failure by making broad, extreme choices. But should I make strong resolutions just to kick myself into gear? Are baby steps too easy?

Eh, I don't know. I'm feeling blah about all this. And blah in general right now, but I think that's because I'm still worn out from the holidays and travel and stress and a toothache and bits of sadness and not drinking enough water. Although this past weekend was nice and relaxing, and that helped quite a bit.

But these are the things I want to pay attention to. And so -- I will.

Resolve positively, everyone.

Apparently, I am impulsive. But now I'm also spunky.

2006-12-08T23:49:00.001-06:00

I never thought of myself as being impulsive. I think before I do things. Or before I say things. Or before I respond to something unexpected. Had to do with that fence-sitting thing.

But I think I've decided to let go and be more impulsive lately. Not bad randomly-impulsive, like impulsively running off to join the circus or anything.

No. I mean a fun, not-too-serious impulsive. Which, now that I think about it, I could spin this to be not impulsive (bad connotations on that word), but more lively & spontaneous. Yes, that sounds much better.

So, lively & spontaneous. Like playfully kicking at the snow because it looks fun, or... you know... dyeing my hair red. I mean really, *really* red.

I didn't plan to. I wanted a lighter red, but I couldn't do that because I'd have to use permanent hair dye. And that's just not something I like to do. So last weekend I dyed it a reddish-brown:

But I changed my mind because I wanted fun spunky hair. So there. It's really much more than I planned, and I'm sure it will fade a bit soon (red does that). But I also think it will grow on me. I kinda like it. Here it is, red hair:

Be lively & spontaneous, everyone. It can be fun. :)

**(For those of you wanting to know the color & brand... well, that was a long time ago. I'm positive I used Feria at least for one of those, if not both. Feria has some awesome red dyes. My problem was that my roots up to 6" were virgin hair, taking the dye *really* well, while the rest used to be dyed pretty dark once upon a time, so the red was duller. Made for a weird look until I changed it a year later. even highlighting the bottom layer didn't really work. But, yes -- I suggest Feria.)

I am thankful for...

2006-11-27T15:13:00.000-06:00

...my dishwasher.

Don't get me wrong. I'm thankful for many things that are less materialistic. My friends and family. My job. My ability to learn from my surroundings. The fact that I'm not a settler of the Lost Colony of Roanoke.

But my dishwasher is at the top of the list today. And my freshly-made bed is coming in right after that on the list. After cooking for lots of people (well, cooking in preparation for an unknown number though having only 3 of us), I had lots of dishes to do. And the dishwasher is very handy in these situations.

Dinner went beautifully, the turkey was perfectly cooked, tender & not dry, despite my meat thermometer deciding to stop working just as I was about to need it. I cleaned as I went, so there was no disaster at the end of the night. It was nice enough out to take a walk after dinner, so Mary & Julie & I walked around looking at all the newly-built homes and condos (knowing full well that they cost more than I could ever afford, even in my neighborhood). We came back, had some pie, and called it a night. I was able to get the turkey carcass simmering on the stove right before we sat down to eat, so the turkey soup is already started. Mmmm... turkey soup. At any rate, everything went well, and now I'm tired. So I will sleep.

And I won't be getting up to go shopping tomorrow, thank you very much. I don't feel like dealing with crowds this weekend. I don't have my list together yet, anyway. Good luck to those of you braving Black Friday.

A thought that came to me today -- even though it saddens me that early Americans killed & took advantage of the Native Americans, this holiday is about sharing and selflessness. It's not about the sorrow of the wiping out of a culture, or about the celebrating of a people that was strong enough to do the wiping out. I kept reading about people who are hung up on the history of the holiday. And things weren't optimal back then, I'm not saying they were. But I think we might as well take the good of it and celebrate that. It's about being among others. Giving. Helping. Sharing. Enjoying the company of others -- appreciating the people around you that make your life better. I'd rather celebrate what I *do* have anyday of the week.

I hope all of you had a wonderful Thanksgiving with much to be thankful for. Life offers many ups and downs, but keeping your mind on what you can be thankful for helps you keep your head up.

Keep your head up, everyone. There's a lot to be thankful for.

fate vs. free will

2006-11-12T15:32:00.000-06:00

Those of you in that were in Alt/Ex Theatre in ... oh, let's say 2001-ish... and we were in class together, you may (or may not) remember my final project. It had to do with the ideas of free will and fate. Which is it? Do we have free will? Can we really lead our lives as we please, with any door open to us? Or are we subjected to fate? We simply roam through lives, completely predetermined, and end up exactly where we were planned to... without realizing we have no choice?

I don't know if I had a stance, or if it was just a presentation to play devil's advocate... knowing me, I sat on the fence between the two. Well, folks... I think I have a stance. Watch out, everyone -- Kate has a firm idea. Better call someone. :)

I'm sure we have free will. We can lead whatever life we want to lead. We may have more than one person that is good for us, it depends on what life path we take. I may have stayed in Minnesota, continued to work for Climb, decided to do free lance acting/costuming work there, and eventually gotten my masters in theatre. Or I may have gone back to Ohio this year after a somewhat disappointing year, and taken a path there. But I'm here in Chicago. Things are playing out well, I want to go to school here, and I found a career that I think I should be in.

Along that thought, we would probably choose one of many possible soul mates. It depends on what life path we finally decide to make.

But do we have a "correct" path that we should take? Am I really on my "correct" path? I realize that I don't think I should be in theatre. I don't want to teach in schools. I really think midwifery is my place. I'm excited about it, and grow more passionate about it every time I learn something new. I think this really is it.

If that is the case, do we have only one "correct" partner? If there is one path for us that we are supposed to find, is there only one partner we should be led to?

And what does that do to free will? I think we have it. We aren't pawns in a vicious game, slaves without thought. But are we given personalities and gifts based on what we are supposed to do, and we are to try to get really close to our optimal predetermined life? Does whoever get the closest win?

So we will be happiest in our designated career or lifestyle, that I'm sure of -- someone who should be a teacher and has the capacity for it is not going to be as happy as an outside salesman, no matter his salary and beautiful car. We are given what we need to succeed in our given lives, as we are supposed to live them. But then, that should mean we will also be happiest with the person we are designated to be with. And our life will lead us to that person if we allow it to happen.

What if you don't get that person? Either because you didn't see your place, or maybe you see it but the other doesn't. So your happiness or another's happiness is based on someone else's choices as well as your own? Then do you just... lose? Too bad for you, you've missed your opportunity, but we can give you honorable mention for trying anyway. Do we get other chances along the way to right the wrong? How many do we get? And if our choice was taken away from us, can we be granted a new one to make?

I like the happy romantic idea of that one person for everyone, like in all those various sappy movies and books and songs and Disney movies. But in past years I didn..t think it was realistic. How in the world does that work? How many people are out there? What are the odds, really, that everyone will get the chance to even *meet* their one person?

But to answer that, I can't imagine that God made us, gave us our lifepaths, our gifts, our dreams, and our partner, and then just sprinkled us around without a plan to it. I think He lets us do as we please, but He has to have some sort of a say in things. He puts the correct people close enough to find each other. You just have to determine who it is.

But how do you know if you are right? How can you possibly know? Even if it seems that someone just dropped into your life in the oddest of ways, as though fate was working right before your eyes, it may just be coincidence. When you have someone in front of you, how do you know if that person is really yours or not? So many people feel that way, then change their minds later. Maybe they chose wrong, or maybe they chose right and then decided to deviate from their given path. How do we know? And how long do we wait for the person we believe is ours?

And who knows -- that person we have may not be meant to be our significant other. They may just be meant to be another important person in our lives. That just throws a whole new wrench into things.

I suppose, even if things went horribly wrong in this life, we can be reunited with our respective lives and soulmates when we reach the next world. But if we didn't follow our lifepath, there is a chance we may not get there to be reunited.

I think I just turned my brain into a pretzel. It's time to get back to Spanish.

Choose well, everyone.

hiding

2006-11-08T22:01:00.000-06:00

why must we not love
we could love and while away the years
our years together

I don't know why we won't
but we won't
but we could
I wish we could

I wish I could sort through your mind
go through the files
discard anything that keeps you from me

and yet I couldn't dispose of any part of you
but I want to
but I don't
but I do

you wrested my safety from me to replace it with warmth
when I finally let go
you were gone

I will never stop singing of you
in every step
in every thought
in every tear

I don't know where your love came from
how it grew so strong
so easily

I don't know why it must hide
why do you hide
I can't hide
I just can't hide

but I must hide

No soapbox for me... not today, anyway.

2006-10-27T12:11:00.000-05:00

You know… things are okay.

(And I mean for the word 'okay' to have positive connotations. As though I wasn't really paying attention to things, and everything around me was kind of a mish-mash of kinda-good, or not-real-great…. And then, all of a sudden… yeah. Things are okay.)

I am really excited about where my life is heading. I took the doula certification class last weekend, and loved it. Only a few middle aged hippie moms were in attendance, one even brewed her own beer and sold tye-dyed shirts…. But I was the only one who had never seen a birth. I guess I should get on that sometime and start volunteering at hospitals.

(For those of you unsure as to what a doula is: a non-clinical birth attendant. She educates, supports, and advocates for the woman in labor in order to make the birth experience the best it can be. With the medical world being as it is nowadays, with doctors having to deal with hospital regulations and not being able to take time out to emotionally care for patients, this is a really good thing for pregnant women. And yes, Dharma's mother on 'Dharma & Greg' was one. No, they aren't all hippies.)

And although I would love to get on a soapbox about how the medical system prevents even the best medical staff from caring, how Illinois is an epidural-happy state, how birth centers (happier, more natural & caring locations to give birth) are illegal in this state, and why doctors don't give options to instead tell you the choice they've made for you… but I don't feel like it. I just don't feel like getting worked up about this today. So there.

Wednesday I attended the UIC info session on the program I'll be applying for this winter. Just walking around their campus was completely energizing. It's going to be hard as hell. Think – for the first 15 months, I'm doing nothing but class and clinical practice to become an RN. That normally takes much more than 15 months. You *can't* work. The guy there said we will want to quit probably every day. It's gonna be rough – but so worth it. I am SO excited.

I've also realized that I need to save some money for this school thing. Not that I didn't know this already, but I'm just going to have to work a little harder. Do things that my parents didn't necessarily do. Like buying store brand laundry detergent. Or going back to the thrift stores for a few staple, easy-to-find garments. Or using cheaper canned veggies in soup, where you can't really tell the difference. Maybe I won't start eating ramen noodles – but lowering a few unnecessary standards won't kill me.

Anyway, I've had a surge of I'm-planning-on-conquering-the-world motivation this week. I was even so inspired that I cleaned my room. Really, I don't remember the last time I saw the floor. And I forgot how big my room can actually feel. It felt good to clean the place... very cleansing. Always a good thing. Now all I need to do is rearrange so all my sweaters fit on the shelves.

But all in all – life is okay. It's Halloween, so I get to wear lots of fun costumes. I'll go to a party or three. My grades are fine, and I don't expect that to change. I won't be able to take the GRE prep class before I have to take the thing in January, but I can study on my own and be fine. I get to go home a lot during the holidays. I got my promotion and raise before the holidays, which is convenient. The receptionist at work who was supposed to be temporary is going to stay on with us – which is great, because I love the girl.

And I can't wait for the holidays coming up. I love them. Partially because I choose to – so many people seem to *choose* to get stressed out over the holidays, and I think that's kind of sad that people can't just sit back and enjoy it all. We're supposed to enjoy the holidays. I just love the warm feeling that comes from seeing people you love and baking lots of cookies and exchanging gifts and traveling and snow.

Hmm-mmm… holidays.

Look forward, everyone.

So this Empathy walks into a bar...

2006-10-10T10:29:00.000-05:00

Oh, man.. am I tired. I normally don't go for the coffee, but this is definitely a coffee kind of day. And a long annoying anatomy class will take me into the evening. Blech. And I am obviously not working right now. Eh.. there's time for that shortly. (I have this feeling my blogs are making me sound like a huge slacker.. not studying, not working.. )

Cat Empire concert .. yeah, last night was great. There's never anything bad about those three words .. Cat, Empire, and concert -- next to each other in a sentence. I was sad that the stage was a bit small for Felix to do his signature shuffle steps, but it was a great night of music nonetheless. Only making the night better was that I got to spend time with some people I have dearly missed for quite a while.

On another happy note, I realized that it's the middle of October, and I haven't yet come down with what I have termed my own personal bout of consumption (AKA, my cough-variant asthma). The airways are slightly itchy sometimes, and so is the skin, but not hardly anything to get excited about. Thank goodness... that asthma last year kinda freaked me out. So hooray for that.

I made some damn good pumpkin chicken soup Sunday... sounds a little weird, I don't normally put pumpkin and chicken together, but everyone seems to love it. It's good. And it's soup season again, which is a happy thing.

And I have a new whiteboard at work in my cubicle (I can't believe I work in a cubicle...). That also makes me happy. Not the cubicle part, just the whiteboard.

But to the topic at hand: Empathy.

As any past or present CLIMB Theatre member knows (CLIMBers, as we sometimes call ourselves), the word empathy means: imagining how someone else feels by imagining how you would feel in the same situation. This is actually different from sympathy, which technically means to be actually sharing the same feelings; empathizing means to only imagine them.

Empathy can be good. When we think about other people's feelings before we do or say something, we may be able to steer clear of needlessly saying or doing something that may hurt the other person's feelings. While I don't think it is a good idea to always walk on the proverbial eggshells around people, I do think it's nice to be considerate of other peoples' feelings. I'm sure most people would agree with me here, at least on some level.

Not everyone uses their empathy. Even those who normally use it can be blinded by their own feelings and forget... For example: woman walks past a homeless man, homeless man says "Hey lady, spare some change," and woman gets furious, says some choice words, and storms off. Why? Let's say the woman had been in an abusive relationship where the man always called her "lady" before beating her. So her feelings of hatred overpowered her usual empathetic self. If she had used her empathy, she may have taken the moment to think about how the guy probably didn't mean any harm, he just feels sad and wants to eat (or do whatever), and she may have given him some change... or at least may not have stormed off before saying the choice words. ...okay, not the best example. Hopefully you get my point.

But empathy has the potential to be bad. Or at least, misused or suffocating. Some people are really good at empathizing.. it comes fairly easy, and they are able to constantly think about what other people may be thinking and feeling. This can be a problem if they ignore their own feelings. ...I think another example would be helpful.

Person A wants something of person B, but thinks it may hurt person B's feelings to say so, so person A stays quiet. But because A decides not to say anything, his well-being is not being seen to. So he is sad, but at least person B is feeling fine, right?.. ..not necessarily... Because maybe person B wants to say something, but decides not to worry about things because saying something may cause problems and hurt person A's feelings. So person B also is feeling somewhat crappy because his needs are not being seen to. Not good for anyone involved. [sigh]

I think this happens a lot out there. Whether the thing people want to say is mean or nice. That whole "if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all" can't be the rule, because sometimes saying something that should be good can cause feelings that are bad or painful. And so people don't say what they want to the people who matter because they are afraid of hurting those people, when really, if they don't see to it that they get and say what they need, no one is going to be happy.

But who knows... sometimes there's nothing to be said on one or both sides. The unfortunate thing about empathy is that we can never really, truly know what someone else is thinking. Even when they tell us what they're thinking, they may not be honest with us... or with themselves, for that matter. So we can never really be sure if our empathy is keeping us on track or not. So our empathy can be wrong... I guess that means empathy isn't reliable... and that kinda sucks, when we only have that to rely on when it comes to taking care of ourselves and those we love. That definitely isn't something we were able to touch on in those 40-minute classes with the elementary school kids (and it probably would have been more confusing than necessary).

So, I guess.. use your empathy, but not so much that it's stifling. Because although it's not okay to hurt other's feelings unnecessarily, it's also not okay to hurt your own. ...if that makes any sense at all, since it's a fine line.

There are a lot of fine lines out there that we tread on a daily basis. At least life keeps us on our toes.

Stay on your toes, everyone. And be careful how you use that empathy.

Kind of studying.

2006-10-08T22:35:00.000-05:00

Back at Argo Tea. Should be studying. Oh, I will... just need a few minutes of decompression first. ...don't give me that look, I swear I'll study in a moment. Honest.

Monday I definitely got caught in the rain after class at 9-10pm-ish. And I don't mean just any plain old rain. I mean torrential-monsoonal-I was-so-glad-it-wasn't-hailing-golf-balls kind of rain. That was a good time, let me tell you. At least I was able to keep a sense of humor about it. And my head stayed amazingly dry -- compared to the rest of me, anyway.

At least the rest of the week wasn't as irritating as Tuesday. Everything seemed to be irritating. The trains were very full. I ran out of soymilk at work. I realized I had forgotten to pay a bill I was already a bit behind on. I had to do the invoicing at work... which never ceases to cause problems.

The act of invoicing itself is not bad. I can handle that. I can even make my way through the easy but time-consuming task of formatting the timesheets I get from the engineers. Some of them turn their time in on time, and the time is correct, and there are no problems. Once we get to the deadline we begin to have problems. That's when the engineers have a tendency to ignore me.

They don't mean to. I know they don't. But they figure they will finish thier time in just a minute, then they'll be fine, and they won't have to worry about letting me know what's going on. But then something happens, and they get distracted, or some crisis happens with a client, and it's the end of the day. And they figure they'll get to it when they get home, or first thing in the morning, still no big deal. And they begin to avoid me so they don't have to face me until everything is in and all is right in the world again. But the same distractions and crises happen the next day, and before you know it... I'm feeling ignored. And then I'm calling and emailing, and calling and emailing their supervisors, because I can't do my job because they haven't done theirs. And it's frustrating.

It's not like I yell at them. Even when they are days behind, I still don't yell. I know their jobs are stressful, and paperwork can be annoying. I know. I give them the benefit of the doubt every time. If it goes on for months, well sure -- I'll tell them that I want their time in. And they know. But I still need to do my job. Even if they called and said -- hey, I need more time, maybe a day or two, and I'll let you know when I'm all set... that would be just fine with me.

Ah, well. I can't make them do anything. So I guess I'll just have to learn to live with that.

Anyway, Wednesday was better than Tuesday. It smelled like autumn in the morning, which I love. The trains were packed again, but I got some okay sleep. Invoicing got done (done enough, anyway). And now I'm drinking tea. And Monday I'll go back to my fairly energetic Spanish class which is now being taught by... a Jew. Not that I don't like Jews (it's a good thing I do, or I'd have problems at home), but I just think it's completely funny that the entire Spanish department is made of Spaniards and Puerto Ricans and Mexicans... and one crazy little Jewish woman. I love it.

Anyway, speaking of Spanish, I should do my online workbook. And play a little game called "lots of Spanish flash cards". There's a quiz next week, and although the Anatomy exam next week is more important, I'm a little behind in Spanish. Maybe I should try talking to myself in Spanish... well, at least when no one else is around, anyway. I don't need people looking at me funny.

Enjoy that crisp autumn scent, everyone.

self-proclaimed fence-sitter

2006-09-30T14:55:00.000-05:00

Well, here I am at the friendly local Argo Tea near Michigan Avenue. They have good tea, and it's a place away from my own apartment where I am less likely to get homework done because of how easily I get distracted at home. Although Starbucks has comfier chairs. I would go to Starbucks for that fact, but I have to pay for their wireless internet, which I need for my online workbooks. So free internet wins over comfy butt-spot. Not that I'm all that less distracted, anyway. Oh well.

Small update: class is slighty annoying but fine, the new bookkeeping tasks at work are slightly mind-numbing because of all the numbers but is fine, the men at work are beginning to cross the line when it comes to thinking with the wrong head and I may have to deal with issues, still reading C.S. Lewis and going to church and liking it, need to actually do some laundry, and pulled out the crockpot for the first time this fall last night.

To the topic at hand. I am a fence-sitter. I always have been. I decided to actually think about this, rather than just say something that sounds correct and insightful.

It is tactful, to say the least. If you are able to see both sides of a situation, you are less likely to be so set in your ways that you are unwilling to change. It is important to be willing to change and grow, for numerous reasons. It is easier to get along with all kinds of people if you are willing to see all sides of the story. You're also less likely to piss people off.

Or to be liked by everyone.

Yeah, I know that's been my reason. I just want people to like me. So I make sure my values and thoughts are maleable enough that I don't have to worry about someone not liking my values and thoughts, and I'm more likely to be liked. I am a social chameleon, able to change to fit into any situation. There are pros to this ability.

But there are also cons. I am less myself than I'd like to be. I try not to harbor strong opinions, for fear that someone might be offended. And I'm so afraid of people saying that I'm wrong.

Oh, and look -- I'm now kinda fence-sitting about my state as a fence-sitter. [sigh] Nice.

From now on, I am myself. I do not unnecessarily bend for others' opinions. I am willing to change, but I am willing to state my opinion. Maybe less people will like me. Fine. Maybe more people will like me. Fine. I preach about being true to myself, but I don't do a good job of actually doing anything sometimes. Maybe I'll remember this time.

I don't think this was actually in response to anything -- just some new, crazy insight of mine. You know, that I'm insightful without doing a damn thing about the insight.

Grow on, everyone.

Religious Musings and Frustrations

2006-08-27T22:52:00.000-05:00

Ever felt like writing a blog because you're confused/frustrated, but not sure where to begin or how much to write?

Religion is going to start making my life kinda difficult. For a long while. I do admit, though, that it's my own doing. I could decide to not deal with the new crazy juxtaposition of my opposed-to-organized-religion background with the sudden infiltration of Lutheranism. But that would be silly. Easy, but silly.

I enjoy discussing religion. I find it interesting, especially as one who was not permitted to fully take part in it as a child. My dad wanted me to be a clean slate so I could decide to join or not join a religion when I grew up enough to make the decision for myself. I understand and appreciate this effort. I don't know much about any religion, and love learning new things, so talking about any religion is fascinating. I have read a number of books on Native American religions, researched Buddhism, explained Pagan religions to classmates, and learned about Judaism from my roommate (Jewish, although she has been known to nosh on a pepperoni pizza).

But I can't say I always had good experiences when learning about Christianity. Don't get me wrong -- I know many people who are Christians (living in America, and all), and they don't think I'm a creepy heathen who should be saved. They are normal people, and treat me like an equally normal person. My first experience (in high school), though, wasn't so hot:

- First service, okay. Second service, Ash Wednesday, I felt quite out of place. Next, Bible Study, I was told I was wrong and was going to Hell. This didn't go over well, since I didn't really like the idea of Hell, didn't know how I felt about Jesus, and didn't like being shot down without a say in the matter, so I didn't go back to that group. There was discord from then on.

Upon getting to college, I again was told by a friend that I'd go to Hell because I wasn't Baptized. ...Sorry, I'm going to experience Eternal Damnation because I wasn't dunked in water as an infant? No, that didn't work for me, either.

Then I met other people who wanted to talk to me about Jesus, but seemed too sugary-sweet to actually be real.

If you really feel like "saving my soul", don't just tell me I'm wrong.

So, as you can see, I've grown up with not the best views of the most popular religion in America.

And now I'm seriously dating a man who is going to school to be a Lutheran Pastor. This may get interesting.

I love talking with Dan about religion. But now conversations with my parents (Sunday mornings, no less) involves discussion of him, and how is this "religion thing", and why does he want to be a pastor again, and what does he say to you, and and and and. I don't have the language right now to explain anything we talk about, and it doesn't help that I've never been good with on-the-spot debates. It all is very draining, and confusing, and frustrating. I can tell that if any conversion on my part ever happens, my dad might be disappointed in me. Angry at Dan? No. But still, disappointed in me. For joining a group that he feels is closed-minded. And I can't defend it because I don't have the knowledge to yet. I think my immediate family would be more accepting of any religion other than Christian. And not even like I know I would ever convert. I may not. I don't know. I don't want to if I don't think I should. I'm not trying to turn my back on what I've been taught, but I don't want to be closed to what I might learn. I feel like this might turn into a Dad vs. Boyfriend battle, with me as the prize. I want this to be my decision, not their battle. Not that it's actually going to be like that -- I know it wouldn't be -- but that's how I'm going to feel, I think.

After getting off the phone with my parents, I curled up in a heap of pillows, because I decided sleeping was better than thinking.

I may just be getting a little dramatic and ahead of myself. But that's only because I've just started to realize how serious this might get. Still.

I'm a good person. Why isn't that enough? Isn't that the whole point, anyway? Love one another, help others, and don't be mean or stupid? Argh! I have no clue what the hell is happening. My life got so much better, and now I think it's getting hard again. Not that that's bad -- hard is good for growing and learning and changing. But it's still hard. And stressful. Can't I get a break from stress?

And classes start this week, which means any social time is going to be limited again. But it's me working toward a goal, so I can make it.

I am happy. I am. It just amazes me sometimes how much change I allow myself to go through. Life is good... I have to remind myself of that every now and then, but it is.

Thanks for reading the novel. Oh, and I'm always accepting of free advice. :)

Well, enjoy the week, everyone. Stay close to those you love.

Slap me on the ass and call me a girl!

2006-08-27T16:14:00.000-05:00

As a woman, I have 2 choices when it comes to a work environment:

1. Work with mostly women.

Women, as it usually goes, can be pretty catty and mean when it comes to group environments. They are nice to your face, then talk bad about you behind your back. They may not even realize it, since it can range from "That bitch stole my promotion" to something as mundane as "I got the same sandals for a much better price than she did". I think it has to do with some sort of innate, primal competition for the best males. Also, women rarely dress well specifically *for men* -- it's for the surrounding women. To look better in their eyes, rise to the top of the pecking order, and become liked... that way, the other women are less likely to talk bad about you -- and this allows you to get the better men. In contrast, the women who are secure in relationships never seem to be as bad about this. Note: I said secure. If they aren't secure, they are just as bad, since they have to work to keep their man.

However, there is the possibility of having good, close friendships. As you are always together during the day, these can flourish greatly with very little effort. But probably not with all of the coworkers.

2. Work with mostly men.

Men aren't catty. If they have a problem with you, they make fun of you to your face. I think this relates back to the fight-to-the-death for the right to a female. They have to compete, and the person who gets in the last, best jab to the ego gets the right to have the best woman. Or paycheck. Which then allows them to get the best woman.

Although the all-male workplace is normally free of drama, it is important to understand that you are their personal in-office-wife-substitute. They will not always clean spills, nor will they tell you if they took the last pen from the supply room. They won't do things if they don't find them important. It's kind of like babysitting -- it is automatically your job to make sure they do their homework and chew with their mouths closed. This isn't always the case, though, and some are better than others.

Is this sexist? Sure. Why? Because we are different. No... don't deny it. We are. Women are naturally more nuturing and have a tendency to go into "nesting mode" after having sex with someone we like, and men like to hunt things and go find more things to hunt after the success has been established. It's just the way it is, people.

So I guess I'm saying that I'm glad I work in an all-male office, because I don't have to worry about silly catty woman-drama. But I am a babysitter. It's annoying. It's my job, and until we get someone else in here to help (hopefully soon), I am the catch-all administrative assistant/nanny.

But I do have pretty good health insurance, so I can't complain too much.

Enjoy the weekend, everyone. Go to the park.

What a difference a year makes...

2006-07-12T16:27:00.000-05:00

Well folks, it’s been a year. Time to get all reminiscent. I moved to Chicago on August 8, 2005. My life is so friggin’ different than it was when I got here that my head is spinning just a bit. Stressful as all get-out. But I wouldn’t trade any of these changes away… all kinds of life-altering experiences. I can hardly believe all the crap I've put myself through:

Moved to Chicago. Found out that it *is* worth it to have movers help you when you have three crappy flights of stairs. And even if mattresses fit up curvy stairs, the box springs may not. And might dent the wall a bit. But besides a few squirrels and yucky carpet, things are good in the apartment.

Found a job on my first try, worked for a week, then lost the position (no one knows why... but I wouldn’t have fit in that stuffy atmosphere for long, anyway). No one wanted me for weeks because I had so little office experience, and couldn’t get past the resume screening. Had some pretty crappy temp jobs (see earlier blogs from last September). Then found a super-duper job (though yes, Yuppie Corporate America Job) that I can stand. At least the people are fine, I don’t hate it, and my boss rocks. Really. She’s great. I’ll hate leaving her. It's definitely a good place to be for now.

Decided to go to grad school for costuming. Got myself a job at a very disorganized costume shop. Then decided I didn’t want theatre as my life-sustaining career. Almost considered staying at yuppie job for the rest of my life. Thought about natural medicine, but wasn't sure what I really wanted to do and I didn’t want to fight the label of “quack” forever. Then had a life-altering doctor appointment with 2 amazing midwives who just happened to see me… and realized that’s what I wanted to do. And now I’m taking lots of classes. With any luck, I’ll get into the great midwifery program with a 1% acceptance rate. Or at least some midwife program. I'm taking a Doula Certification class in October, and I can't wait. At least people seem to think I'm "earth-motherly". I should put that on my grad school applications.

I used to only get sinus infections. Then I got pneumonia, asthma, and some other random disease-like problems. Not sure why all this happened to Little Miss Healthy, but it all wound up leading me to the above mentioned career path. So… fine.

Then there’s the subject of being man-prey. :) I moved here to decide if I could marry the man with whom I had been in a long-distance relationship for 3 years. After much stress, a number of tears, and a minor panic attack, I realized that wasn’t the best idea for me. Eh… it happens. But then I met (well, “re-met”, I suppose) the most wonderful man and have fallen faster than I could have imagined… hmm. Yeah. No words can completely express my surprise and delight. [sigh] I have no idea how it happened, but I don’t plan on second guessing how life works in its mysterious ways. I don’t know how I managed to deserve this… but I’m just going to take it and run with it. Dan -- you're the best. (They just don't understand. :)

So yes… a good year. Very hard, very turbulent, but amazing. Incomparable to past years by a long shot. Saul Bellow *did* have it right: "When the fear yields, a beauty is disclosed in its place." When you allow yourself to just go with the flow, it's amazing what can happen.

I can only wish that all the rest of you find the wonderfulness that I found.

Alright -- enough sappiness from this crazy girl.

Here’s to another terrific year, everyone.

Catching up on everything

2006-07-01T10:00:00.000-05:00

Hmmm... I'm tired. Should I complain... well, maybe not. I mean, yes, I have school, and I'm working a crazy Corporate America job, but I can't say I'm helping the situation.

School is good. I enjoy Biology -- maybe not the time it takes out of my day, but I enjoy the learning part. I forgot how much I like learning new things. Education is like speed for my brain. (I mean, I'm *assuming* it is. I've never actually done speed. I don't even know if you snort it or smoke it. Or maybe there's some other way the kids are using their drugs nowadays -- those crazy kids. [shaking the old man fist in the air])

At any rate. I like learning this stuff. Just not the time it takes to be in class. After having to get up at 6am every morning for work (okay, okay... 6:15... 6:30...), having to go straight to class at 5pm, and then not getting home until after 10pm, I am tired. Oh, and remember that "speed for my brain" comment? Yeah. I can't physically slow my brain down enough to go to sleep as soon as I get home. So I don't get to sleep until after 11pm. And for someone who's a pansy-butt about not getting her 8 hours of sleep, this has the possibility of getting ugly.

Now, I can't say I'm helping the situation at all. I could relax myself on the way home with some calm music, take a nice cool shower, and get into bed as soon as I get home. But no. I need my daily phone call with Dan. For, eh, an hour... or so. The best way to wind down to get to sleep? No. Not really. But enjoyable, nonetheless, and so I will continue to exist on caffienated black tea to get myself through my day until class is out for the summer and I have more time to actually get my sleep.

Good luck to me when I start anatomy and statistics this fall...

But it is a holiday weekend. I will go to the beach... and study. (Hey, at least I'm at the beach.) As long as rain doesn't ruin those plans like it did last weekend, anyway. And I'll go take pictures of people enjoying their holiday. (Does this say something about me?) And I'l work on my own sewing projects, as I've eliminated myself from the costume shop lineup. So not a whole lot of relaxation, but a lot of me-stuff. Which will be good for once.

Enjoy the holiday, everyone.

Taught to the tune of a hickory stick...

2006-06-06T16:17:00.000-05:00

Well, folks, I’m doing it – I’m taking a class.

That doesn’t sound nearly as exciting as it might have sounded back in the 30’s when people would mail order for correspondence classes on radio or the typewriter or something. But I think it’s pretty darn exciting. Or frightening. Or something. Whatever.

I’m taking BIO 121: Biology for pre-med majors. Not that I’m pre-med. Oh, no. Not that crazy. But I am pre-Certified-Nurse-Midwife. Yeah, I think I’m going to do it. I’m going to be a midwife. Just need a master’s degree, I can handle that. (I can hear it now: “But Miss Scarlett, Miss Scarlett, I don’t know nothin’ about birthin’ no babies!”) First I just have to take a few prerequisites. Like Biology. And, possibly even more difficult, I have to get through the enrollment process. Let me explain… imagine, if you will…

Friday:

I walk into the admissions office of the local community college. I have my college transcripts, sealed and everything, and I hand them over. They put me in the computer as a student. No problem. Then they send me to Room 204 to register for the class I need.

I get there, and she says I need to take a placement test to get out of English 101 – because I didn’t take an English class in college. I tell her I didn’t need one because I tested out of the English gen ed credit because of my AP scores and ACT scores. She tells me if I haven’t taken a class, I need the placement test, end of story. Not like I graduated from college already or anything. Grrr. Okay, fine, I say – and she sends me to Rm 407 for the test.

I get there, ask how long the test will take (since my parents are in town and are expecting me to play tour guide), and they say that there is no time limit. Since that wasn’t quite the answer I was looking for, I ask again. Again she states that there is no time limit, and I can take as long as I like. I tell her that I have my parents in town, I need to tell them when they might be able to expect me. She resigns, tells me it may take an hour, it may take me two hours, it depends on how much time I need. I say fine, okay, that’s a good enough answer. I tell my parents I’ll meet them in two hours or so, and tell her I’ll take the test. She says I need the general test: reading, writing, and math. Wait – MATH? No, no, no – the woman earlier said I only needed English. Not math. NOT math. But the woman at the placement test counter said I needed math because I’m taking a science class, so I agreed – reluctantly – to take the math test. And I began.

I had to begin with the math test. It was a very good thing I reviewed college algebra a few weeks ago, otherwise I would have had serious problems. More serious that I already had, that is. I sped through the easy algebra, finished the fraction section, did some easy geometry, and felt I may have actually gotten the functions right (though I doubt it). Then came exponents. Not the “what is 5 squared” exponents, oh no. I’m talking about negative exponents, and exponents over exponents, and exponents of exponents . I remember seeing these before, but I definitely did a lot of guessing. Then came Trigonometry. Really now – how badly did this test have to end? I actually tried to think about the first two questions about sin-cos-tan-cot and whatever else. I recognized the types of questions, I just didn’t have a clue on how to figure them out. After the first two questions, I just picked answers. There had to have been 15 trig questions, and I guessed on all of them. An hour later, I finally finished.

I moved on to the reading section, which was easier than any standardized test in high school, and I finished it in 15 minutes. I then had to write an essay about the social pressures on me at the moment, and I wrote about getting into college (you know, if I pass the test). I then handed in my test, and was told to come back on Monday. With my high school transcript.

Wait. With my high school transcript? Are you kidding me? You mean, my college transcript isn’t enough? You don’t automatically assume that if I have a college degree that I must have also finished high school? (At this point, I’m beginning to feel a bit elitist about my college level of education.) Apparently, this isn’t the case. I need my high school transcript in order to actually register for classes. You know, to prove I’m worthy to take classes at the local community college. Grrr.

So… I call my high school. Then I get forwarded to the board of education. I ask if I can get my transcript faxed, but they don’t do that because of the confidential nature of transcripts (like I care who sees my high school transcript). She says I can pick it up, though. From Wadsworth, Ohio. Ha! Right. I ask if she can fed ex it, and she agrees, as long as I pay for the next-day-Saturday-delivery. I call fed ex, arrange for a pick up, call the friendly woman back, let her know she can get it ready, and pay $5 to the local currency exchange so I can fax my transcript release authorization to the same friendly woman. Then I finally go trotting off to the museum with my parents.

This whole weekend, I dreaded seeing my test scores. I imagine the huge fight I will undertake when I try to take a science class after not passing the math placement test. I also imagine how in the world I will get decent scores on the GRE if I can’t pass a silly little placement test. Ugh.

Monday:

I go to admissions and ask for my placement test scores. She goes into the file, brings them over, and I see them – the scores. Reading: fine. Writing: fine. Math: not-so-fine. I got 91% on both arithmetic and high school algebra. But I got a 59% on the collge algebra. And a whopping 19% on the trig. Hmm. Good job, me. At least I did an okay job at guessing.

Anyway, the test score lady scribbles her instructions on my score page: go see math advisor to decide which math course to take. What? Oh, no – I’m not taking a math course. But I hold my tongue, and go to the class registration, ready for a fight. I sit down with the math advisor, tell her I want to take Biology 121, and she signs me up, no questions asked.

No math test scores needed. No high school transcript needed. I don’t ask any questions. No way am I going to second guess divine intervention.

She sends me off to the finance office to pay, and I get told to go get my student ID. I survived.

Today, I paid $190 for a large used biology text book and a flimsy little lab workbook. At least classes at the community college are cheaper than anywhere else.

Well, class starts tomorrow. I have a feeling I’ll have some good fodder for writing (and plenty of time to want to procrastinate).

Good luck to me.

Like one of those annoying wind up toys... just not as annoying because the wind-up springy thingy is broken.

2006-05-19T14:07:00.000-05:00

Well, that does it. I’m sick. Ugh.

Amy asked me yesterday, “If you’re selling your van, and you won’t be paying car insurance anymore, do you really need to work at the costume shop anymore?”

D asked, “When was the last time you had two days in a row off?” Two days in a row? Ha! How about two days in a week, at all?

Nowadays I spend my Sundays, my one day off a week, sitting on my ass all day long. Those of you who know me understand what a big deal this is. I am not the person who can just sit around the house all day long. I’m too ADD for that. I always have to at least go walk to the grocery store, or bake cookies, or go to Target. But for the past month or two, I have been a lazy bum. Not that that’s bad. It’s not, necessarily. But it’s not something I have ever been able to do. I can barely sit in one place for a half-hour sitcom.

I am burnt out. And now I’m sick.

I thought it was just that I needed a vacation. So here’s me, simply looking forward to the 3-day Memorial Day weekend, and the 5-day vacation I’m taking the following weekend when my parents come into town. (Hooray!)

But now I’m sick. (Did you catch that part? Okay. Just wanted to make sure.)

So I can’t work at the costume shop anymore. I just can’t do it. Maybe once a month or so, if that works. Not that I don’t enjoy it. I do. I get paid to sew pretty dresses and help people pick out costumes. Now really—can you get much better than that? But it’s just too much. There is no point in burning myself out if I don’t have to. (Or at all, really, for that matter.) I’ve had too much going on lately, and I’ll be starting school soon. I don’t need to be burnt out *before* I get to school. Burning out is reserved for while you’re in classes. That’s what you’re supposed to do in school. Not before you get there.

Apparently I’m not invincible. Crap.

Forget your troubles, c'mon get happy!

2006-04-13T08:18:00.000-05:00

Yes, folks -- it's a good day.

I'm going home for the weekend. I plan on having a little extra money to squirrel away into my savings account (my what?) now that my car insurance has dropped. I talked to the Lovely Rita last night -- she is pretty darn great! I realize that my health is not as bad as I think. I've gained a little weight over the winter (hello, hibernation), but it will soon be summer and I'll get to snack on raw things like a rabbit. I finally got pictures back from last May (the roll of film was hiding under a table). And it's sunny and warm, meaning I get to break out the sandals, skirts, and self-tanner from a bottle.

So really, I think things are gunna be okay. Great, even! Hooray!

And a side note: I felt the above song lyrics (of which Judy Garland sings marvolously) were quite appropriate. She talks about shouting hallelujiah and going to the promised land and judgement day. Very Easter-ish and Passover-ish. And speaking of which, I found out the other day, those two holidays really have nothing to do with each other except that they fall around the same time. I never understood why my Jewish friends cared about only one of those many holy holidays in that season. But now I know. It's because Passover was when they left Egypt, and those others are Christian holidays about Jesus.

Really, everything is falling into place now. :)

Chicago-HESO (or, "Does anybody have a career they don't want?")

2006-03-30T08:24:00.000-06:00

I remembered how to do high school algebra last night.

Not like I woke up at 3 am, sat up, and suddenly recalled what the quadradic formula was. This happened in a 4-hour span of time while sitting in a coffee shop after work, drinking a green tea latte.

Yes, folks, I did this to myself. ON PURPOSE. This is so I can score higher than a 2% on the GRE and go back to school. I think I'll get a Master's degree.

In what, you ask? Hmmm... I'm thinking some sort of medical career.

What???

Yes, you heard me. I'm going into the medical field. I'm not sure how this fell into my lap, nor do I know exactly what kind of medical career I want. I want to help people be healthy, and teach them how to stay healthy so they don't need me. (No, not good business practice, but good ethics.) I don't want to be a "doctor" doctor. (What I mean by that is, I don't want to be in med school until I'm 45.) I don't want to be in the you're-sick-so-here's-a-pill field of medicine. I'm more into preventative, keep-yourself-healthy-and-quit-being-afraid-of-germs medicine. So I'm thinking I can be a naturopathic doctor, a chiropractor, or a midwife.

Yeah. I know. "Those are three very different jobs, you know, and why in the world would you want to be a midwife?" you say. Well, I don't know what I want to be when I grow up yet, so don't get all worried about me yet. I figure I have some time to decide.

First I need to relearn algebra. Which, in algebra's defense, the first half of the 300-page book was fairly easy. I whipped through my 8th grade algebra class in a few hours last night. It's the algebra II, trig, and pre-calc that I'm going to have some problems with. All I remember from trigonometry class was me with my head in my hands, my teacher looking at my work, and her saying, "How in the world did you get that?" I followed the rules, I swear. I just never did a very good job of simplifying. I always wound up making things more complicated, somehow. I don't know how. And I think that was the problem.

Hopefully I'll be able to learn all of this darned math now that I'm older and wiser. (Or something.) Then I get to move on to the year's worth of biology, anatomy, chemistry, physics, and some other math/science prerequisite junk I didn't have to learn for my theatre degree.

Maybe I should just get an acting gig on ER. I could act like a doctor.

***On an unrelated side note, my car is going back to the shop again, because she doesn't think she's fixed. But D is taking care of it for me, because he's really great. :) And it's going to be 67 degrees today, so I'm wearing sandals, and that makes for a terrific day no matter what. Hooray for being happy!

What's in a name?

2006-03-09T10:07:00.000-06:00

Some of you may not be familiar with the Roman Comedy of "Lysistrata".

First, Romans liked their comedies. They also liked blood, gore, and sex. As they were fans of the coliseum and gladiator fights, they were also fans of funny plays with lots of phalluses (phalluses? phalli?). Lysistrata is one of these plays. Here is an excerpt from one translation, at the very beginning of the play:

LYSISTRATA
But I tell you, the business that calls them here
is far and away more urgent.
CLEONICE
And why do you summon us, dear Lysistrata? What
is it all about?
LYSISTRATA
About a big thing.
CLEONICE (taking this in a different sense; with
great interest) And is it thick too?
LYSISTRATA
Yes, very thick.
CLEONICE
And we are not all on the spot! Imagine!
LYSISTRATA (wearily)
Oh! if it were what you suppose, there would be never
an absentee. No, no, it concerns a thing I have turned
about and about this way and that so many sleepless nights.
CLEONICE (still unable to be serious)
It must be something mighty fine and subtle for
you to have turned it about so!
LYSISTRATA
So fine, it means just this, Greece saved by the women!

And another excerpt...

LYSISTRATA
Yes, that is best.... Ah! here comes Lampito. (LAMPITO,
a husky Spartan damsel, enters with three others, two
from Boeotia and one from Corinth.) Good day, Lampito,
dear friend from Lacedaemon. How well and handsome
you look! what a rosy complexion! and how strong you
seem; why, you could strangle a bull surely!
LAMPITO
Yes, indeed, I really think I could. It's because I do
gymnastics and practise the bottom-kicking dance.
CLEONICE (opening LAMPITO'S robe and baring her bosom)
And what superb breasts!
LAMPITO
La! you are feeling me as if I were a beast for sacrifice.
LYSISTRATA
And this young woman, where is she from?
LAMPITO
She is a noble lady from Boeotia.
LYSISTRATA
Ah! my pretty Boeotian friend, you are as blooming as a garden.
CLEONICE (making another inspection)
Yes, on my word! and her "garden" is so thoroughly weeded too!

So yes. The Romans were quite a bunch.

This play is about a soldier's wife (named Lysistrata) who doesn't want her husband going off to war because she misses the sex. Nor does she want the rest of her friends' husbands going off to war. So they all bind together and decide that (no matter how hard it will be) they will withhold sex from their husbands. If the husbands force them, they will lay there like dead fish, since they know men don't like sex if the women don't also have a good time.

This play is one of those "I am woman, hear me roar" shows, but just with a lot of subtle (and not-so-subtle) sexual innuendo. At any rate, a rockin' good time.

I named my car Lysistrata.

I had my reasons. I wanted something that had theatrical roots. I didn't want Stella, because some Polish, working-class car would beat her up. Not Mrs. Lovett, because I don't want to drive a canniballistic car. Not Juliet, because I don't need her falling in love with a sports car and committing suicide. As she is a minivan, and therefore a female, I decided on Lysistrata. She is a woman (soccer mom van, as some call her) but don't make her mad. If you ignore her needs, she will get very angry. But if you treat her well, she will put out. I decided that would be okay.

This week, I put $1400 to her repairs. That doesn't count the hassle of getting new license plates because her old ones were stolen. And she's still angry, so she's going back to the shop tonight. Who knows how much more she will require me to spend on her.

Maybe Stella would have been better. At least she stayed loyal and fertile after she got beaten up.

Confessions of a far-from-teenage drama queen

2006-01-16T11:05:00.000-06:00

Because that's how I feel right now. Like a drama queen. Part of me just wants the drama to stop... come on, no more drama in my life! (That's right, I said it.) However, part of me is enjoying being somewhat dramatic, as always... it does give me something to talk about.

But really, people. I'm feeling like the drama really can cool down anytime now.

I know it's been a while since my last post. I've had a lot of drama. Let me update myself, in abridged format:

1. broke up with boyfriend, had psychological issues.
2. lied to family at Christmas about boyfriend to bypass questioning.
3. made new year's resolution to take care of *myself*, not necessarily everyone else around me (see #1.)
4. went back to gym (see #3.)
5. started taking voice lessons again (see #3.)
6. bought pretty, sparkly ring for myself (see #3.)
7. scored free tickets to the House of Blues on new year's eve (turns out I know people that run into band members at the airport.)
8. tried to soothe ego and psyche of the ex (wow... "ex" is hard to write.)
9. went to hospital and stood in 2 hour long pharmacy line that I didn't actually need to stand in (don't worry, I'm fine)
10. walked around a few miles trying to figure out where to actually get seen and how to get back home (see #9.)
11. plan on being in a play... somewhere... anywhere...

So there we are. My drama. Anyone wants some, you know where to go... I have extra.

Cookies, Asthma, and Turkey Soup

2005-12-01T14:25:00.000-06:00

Really, that's what's going on in my life right now. Those three things. There's more than that, don't get me wrong -- like my job (going well), dating (occasionally), and getting birthday flowers from the people from the office (well, my boss, anyway -- she's the one who has it all together). All in all, things are going rather well.

I have six large bags of Holiday Cookies in my freezer. Yes, I did listen to Perry Como -- the second, inferior tape, anyway -- while baking them. But really, I still have more cookies yet to bake. I hope everyone I know wants some cookies, otherwise I'll have them until we see 70 degree weather again.

--As a side note, my mother got me a lot of baking supplies for my birthday... how 1950's repressed housewife is that? But I don't care. I like baking. I embrace my domesticity. And I got some cool silicon baking mats that they didn't have in the 1950's, so it's okay.

I have Asthma. Yes, me, Miss Healthy. I have asthma. Now, it's not the wheeze-until-you-can't-breathe asthma, it's the have-a-twitchy-trachea-and-have-coughing-fits asthma. Why do I all of a sudden now have asthma, you may ask? I don't know. I blame Global Warming.

--Which, if you're wondering, global warming is actually a pretty good reason. It turns out that ragweed pollen levels have been through the roof the past few years because they thrive with higher levels of CO2. So, yes, global warming is a pretty good reason. Not that it does me any good to know. I still have asthma.

I have Turkey Soup. A lot of it. You know, there's only one of me (and frankly, that's a good thing for many reasons), but I always seem to cook enough soup for 10 of me. Not that I won't eat it. It's good. It's my mom's recipe, made from the turkey carcass (a happy, organic turkey I bought for Thanksgiving). Turkey Carcass Soup is always good. But I do get weary of the Turkey Carcass Soup after, oh, say, the 15th lunch I've made of it. But I still eat it. It takes a little longer to shove it down on that 15th day, but I do it.

--And in my defense (I had to make some side note, or my old high school English teachers would come back to haunt me), it's hard to make anything for just one person. What, shall I cut a quarter of each vegetable I want to put in? That's just annoying. And I do like leftovers. It's just that I always want this and this and this in the soup. Oh, and then, I should put this in. Oh, and I forgot about this. And then I have to put that in. ...And this is how I wind up with a vat of soup.

Looks like I should have formed a better bond with those high school math teachers during the lessons on fractions. Or taken another cooking course.

Or just learn to eat more soup.

Holiday Music = Perry Como

2005-11-17T13:01:00.000-06:00

So it snowed yesterday... HOORAY!!! I like snow, especially this time of year. I'm a big fan of the holiday season. So yesterday in Chicago, when it was cold and snowy, I was happy. And I had to go home, bake cookies, and break out the Holiday music. And not some new CD of something. Oh, no... I'm talking the old RCA tape I stole from my parents that was probably made when they still had 8-tracks. Perry Como is doing his thing, and it's wonderful. However... I CAN'T FIND THE TAPE!!! I was very sad last night. I found the other tape that went along with the first, but it's not nearly as good. I'm afraid that this tape was never even recorded on CD, and I'm afraid I will never find another copy. Oh Perry Como, where are you...

Which, if you'd like to know... he lived in a small town in Pennsylvania, and in that small town (in front of the City Hall/Library/Police Station Building...yes, all in one) they have a bronze statue of him. It plays music. It's like Perry Como is still there, singing all year long (and 24 hours on Christmas). ...Ah, Meredith, the things I learned from you. And speaking of music, I'd like a copy of the "Save the People, Kill the Animals" song. But I digress.

I wish I had a statue of Perry Como in my house so I could listen to him when I bake my holiday cookies.

Well, maybe not the statue. That might just get creepy. I'm not sure how the City Hall Workers/Librarians/Police handle it.

I need you to...

2005-11-10T13:51:00.000-06:00

So apparently there is a game you can play with Google. If you type in “[your name here] need”, and search, you will come up with all kinds of things! Make sure you put quotes around it.

Well, here’s what I need, in Google’s opinion. Note: some sites gave me more than one suggestion. How nice of them.

I need a shave.
Well, this is partially true. I’m letting the hair on my legs grow so I can get them waxed. So they’re close on this one.

(This website was actually rather interesting... someone named "Bubbles the Artist" is selling drawings for a couple hundred dollars each. This one was of an obese woman who was sad about how her dress fit, but no one cared because her legs were hairy. I'm not sure what to think of Bubbles. However, I have a feeling I'm going to find out she's some famous artist I haven't heard of, because she has many pictures of famous people holding her art. This is also the one site I came up with when I clicked on the "I'm feeling lucky" button.)

I to be exposed for everything evil I have done, and I need to be brought to my knees.
I’m sure everything I have done in this lifetime has not been all peaches and cream, but is this really necessary?

I need to trust Angel.
Apparently, I am on Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

I need a priest; I need to be hooked up; I need to leave everyone alone; I need to grow up; I need to know why demons are taking over.
Wow. That’s a lot. I say it depends on the priest. I have a “hook-up”, thank you. I’m sure I can be meddling at times, and could stand to leave others alone sometimes. I am trying to grow up… I have a job, at least! I don’t know about the demons, though… unless we’re talking about the demons of global warming or evil politicians, then we can talk…

I need to talk about the colour of the paint. I need one more victory. I need to meet the mayor of Israeli Arab town Umm al-Fahm.
Let me tell you, the wall color at work is seriously complicating our plans of getting our logo put on the same wall. I could use some life-victories, but I’m hoping I have more than one left. And although I am pretty good with my geography, I have no idea where Umm al-Fahm is. And I use British English.

I Need A Hand... more correctly, I need a tooth... a few teeth.
I’m not sure what happened to me. I should stop getting into fist fights.

I need to know where I am in my struggle and in my relationship with God. ... I need to hear about my victories over temptation and about my sexual ...
Hmmm…and about my sexual … what? And who said temptation is to be fought over?

I Need to be added to default find-in-files list.
I suppose I am a computer file. No worries, the company I work for deals with IT security.

Hans has disappeared, and I need to find him in order to do the deal.
Are we talking poker or drugs? I’m not sure I want Hans to reappear.

I need to get outta here. Diehard zealots abound.
This is true. They do abound. Watch out for those zealots, no matter what they’re zealotting.

All in all, a good exercise in curing boredom. I highly recommend it.

Halloween should be a National Holiday.

2005-10-31T13:04:00.000-06:00

...because, let me tell you... I think it deserves to be a national holiday. And I could really use a vacation right now.

I work at a costume shop. It's a good one, and I enjoy it there. However, the Saturday of the Big Halloween Weekend always blows if you work at a costume shop. I enjoy sewing, and costumes and all... but really. If I can give one piece of advice to anyone, it would be to

NEVER GO TO A COSTUME/HALLOWEEN STORE THE SATURDAY OF HALLOWEEN.

Really. Never. It is not worth your time. It's like trying to rent a Santa suit at 10 am Christmas Eve day. ...Okay, so maybe that's a bad comparison. Let's try this one: as bad as trying to get a rush order of Oil-Rubbed Bronze Schlage doorknobs during Parade of Homes season. ...No? Well... it's just really bad. Don't do it.

So yes, I worked. And I was sewing late at night. I was making my halloween costume -- 19th century undergarments. That includes a corset. Ever know anyone (besides me) who has made a corset -- the real kind with metal stays and everything? No? There's a reason. They suck to make.

NEVER TRY TO MAKE A CORSET.

That's also some good advice. At least I only broke two of my sewing machine needles.

So I was lacking my sleep already. I'm an eight-hours-a-night kinda girl, so this lack of sleep was detrimental to my brain power. Then I had to go to some parties. Yes -- had to, thank you very much. One was a costume party -- and if you think I'm not going to a costume party on Halloween, you don't know me very well. The other party was my own... but not a costume party. My roommate hates costumes. I'm not sure how long our roommate situation will work out under these circumstances, but I think we'll be able to work through our differences over time.

NEVER HAVE A HALLOWEEN PARTY THAT DOESN"T INVOLVE COSTUMES.

Okay... so that's not really advice. It's just my crazed, highly biased opinion. But costumes *are* fun. And that's a fact.

Fooled you!

2005-10-13T13:46:00.000-05:00

Okay. So, I could say something like, "Of course I knew that site was a joke, I just wanted to see what you all thought of it."

But I'd be lying. I had no idea until Mary told me that the site she sent me was a joke. I should have known. But I didn't.

My dignity has been lowered signifigantly. I suppose, with time, I will bounce back.

But I still think the FDA and the USDA are run by big business.

And the beef and dairy boards give a lot of money to them so we won't say anything bad.

So there.

But just think... the government could be worse than it already is...

Eat Well!

2005-10-12T15:17:00.000-05:00

Okay, so I'm NOT a fan of the web site that I've just been to. And yes, I can be crazy with my healthy habits, and I have my conspiracy theories that the FDA and USDA are funded by big business, but really ... there is no reason anyone should be allowed to read and believe some of this information.

Here is some the great wisdom found on My Pyramid (when you go there, submit your stats for your plan on the right side of the page):

"Make half your grains highly refined (or "processed"). Highly refined grains ease the digestion process by bypassing the pesky nutrient and fiber absorption step."

What? Don't eat fiber? Oh, that's a good idea. Not to mention that refined food is SO nutritious.

"Individually packaged vegetable items from exotic places around the globe are cleaner, more convenient, and keep our friends in the petroleum and petrochemical industries chugging along."

Individually packaged -- good for creating more trash. And let's all use more petroleum, shall we?

"While fruits may be eaten whole, buying canned, frozen or otherwise packaged fruit helps ensure the sterility of the fruit. Some fruits can be rather tart or tangy, so a smart way to make these more appealing to children is to select products with added sweetners."

Yeah, I can't tell you how many times I've had problems with my whole, raw apples not being sterile. And we all know children should have more sugar in their diets.

"Drink milk for healthy bones and teeth! Some "scientific studies" have claimed milk has no connection to healthy bone development. These studies, however, ignore the most obvious correlation - bones, teeth and milk are all white."

Anyone who knows me understands that I don't like pushing my semi-vegan and anti-dairy ideals on others. But *this* is good reasoning: because milk is a certain color, it's good for other parts of the body that are the same color. Is poo good for your hair if you're a brunette?

"Liver and other organ meats are high in cholesterol. Just so you know. But who eats those creepy parts anyways, right?"

Okay, I'm not a huge fan of those particular cuts of meat, either. But as far as I know, they are fairly healthy. And what about the people who eat them all the time? Let's call them creepy, too, while we're at it.

Okay. Am I really out-of-bounds here? I mean, really. I just don't get it. I'm speechless. (Well, almost.)

They like me... they really like me... [sigh, tear]

2005-10-10T12:55:00.000-05:00

So guess who has a job!

Um, that would be me. I have a job. *And* they even wanted me back this week. I think I found a winner.

And so have they. tee-hee. [she smiles a smile, the kind that twinkles on the second tooth]

So I'm working for an IT security consulting company. Yeah, I know... not exactly the field I planned on joining. But the people are great. I'm making money. I can wear jeans or a fancy-scmancy skirt to the office. Really, life is pretty good.

Oh, and the CEO said he liked me so much, he didn't even care to see my resume or find out if I had ever been to college.

I wonder if I can call my school and get my money back?

four years of college and plenty of knowledge have earned me this useless degree...

2005-09-22T16:31:00.000-05:00

So let me tell you about the job assignment I just finished...

I'm reminded of Meredith's comments about "staffing out" a job that no one else in the company wants to do. Remember, when the city of Bemidji didn't want to teach their second graders about good-touch-bad-touch themselves, so they had us silly Climb actors come in to do it for them?

Well, my job was like that. Except it was no where *near* as exciting as helping children figure out what do to if some stranger knocked on the door when their parents were having sex upstairs.

My job, ladies and gentlemen:

1. Look at the image of a scanned-in piece of paper on the computer screen.

2. If the image has the words going the wrong way, rotate it.

3. Move on to the next image.

4. Do this 60,000 times.

Yes, my friends, that's exactly what I did for the past two days... while standing at a tall counter... in a very cold room. I felt like I was in a sweat shop. Except for that cold part -- I didn't really sweat much. Really, trained monkeys could do this job. Of course, as my mother said, trained monkeys wouldn't *want* the job.

Anyway, I was too efficent, and got the job done in a day and a half instead of three. So they told me I was done, told me I could go, and stopped paying me. (I know -- what a deal for being amazing!)

But I have a job tomorrow checking the grammar in a stack of surveys, and if I'm lucky I'll get to transcribe some WindowsMedia sound files of... well, something. But it's a job. I also have some interviews next week with two companies who really like me, but I'm not getting excited yet.

Maybe I should just be a stripper. Who needs a college degree?

ooh, ooh, me! ME!!! pick me!! ooh, me, pick me, pick me!

2005-09-15T13:17:00.000-05:00

That's what I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs (yes, much like a kindergartener, thank you) every time I get on the internet to find a job. Really, people should want me more than they have been lately.

And today it's cloudy. Don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying the 70-some degree weather. But really. At least give me some sun, here.

But on a happy note, one of the two squirrels in our wall was trapped in a humane (kind of) cage and taken to the nearby park. Hopefully it was indeed one of the two residing in the wall, otherwise it does us no good. Squirrel babies are cute, but not when they're in my wall.

That's really all. I await the sun so I can go to the beach and draw the funny people I see there.

prisoner

2005-09-06T17:05:00.000-05:00

And when I say "prisoner", I don't mean as in the-black-and-white-stipes-with-the-bag-of-belongings-kept-for-you-until-you-leave (much like my dear roommate,sivilicious) type of prisoner. I mean by a desk.

So, as I have no permanent job right now, I take whatever the temp agency can find for me. Being a receptionist isn't too bad -- unless you're NEVER ALLOWED TO LEAVE. Okay, so that's a bit extreme. I am allowed to leave my desk from 10-10:15, from 12-1:00, and from 3-3:15. If I smoked, I would. Instead, I go outside (like the smokers do anyway) and sit outside, enjoying my freedom -- knowing full well that I have to go back inside all too soon. I'm like a 6 year old child with ADHD. And since it's a holiday weekend, hardly anyone called, so I had very little to do. I read two plays and two books in two days. Sometimes I just stand up at the desk. Sometimes I tuck one leg under. Sometimes I sit criss-cross-applesauce (thank you, elementary schoolteachers of Minnesota).

Anyway, although I am bored out of my mind, I *am* getting paid. I suppose it could be worse. I could be passing out reduced-fare bus cards to the college students of Chicago.

Oh, wait -- I'm doing that tomorrow.

At least I'll get to commune with life forms and maybe have (somewhat) meaningful conversations.

I wish I had gotten reduced-fare bus passes when I was in college. Lucky kids.

Oh, and an update on the apartment... yes, the shower is fixed. But we do have a squirrel. Think of it -- we got a free pet with the deal!

everything must go!

2005-09-02T12:43:00.000-05:00

First, an update:

Okay, so there's not much. I'm still in Chicago. I'm still in the same apartment (the one that can't seem to get a plumber to come), and I'm still trying to find a permanent job. Everyone else since the swanky receptionist job loves me, so my ego is back in place. The two women I worked with the other day said the swanky place didn't hire me because the girl who trained me was intimidated -- I knew more about the copier than she did. We chuckled over that. Anyway, it doesn't so much matter. The job is not mine. (Not that I'm bitter. I'm not. ...stop giving me that look!)

Well, folks, it's time for me to pull out my soapbox. [sound of old, wooden box being dragged against concrete]

So, we're killing the world because we aren't living within the rules of earth's society.

Yeah, you heard me. (Oh, no... she's talking about saving the earth...)

Okay, but this'll be different.

So I read this book called Ishmael by Daniel Quinn for the second time the other day. I recommend it, and his other books are probably just as thought-provoking. There is a website: Ishmael I'm not sure I love the website, but there's at least some info there for you. And now that it has soaked in a little more, I can finally talk (or type) about it and know what I'm saying.

Imagine yourself back in the early 1900's and you are getting ready to try out your new flying machine (I know you didn't realize this, but you've been working on it a long time). Although others say you're crazy, you go to the top of a high cliff and shove off. You're flying! Wow, it's beautiful. You're flying with the birds, high above the trees. Now *this* is the life. You look down and see all the remains of older flying machines and chuckle to yourself. They just weren't as successful as you. This flying thing is amazing! Then you look down again and see the ground getting closer. No big deal -- just pedal faster (you've got one of those cool helicopter-like machines that's powered by bike pedals). And then you realize that no matter how hard you pedal, the ground is still getting closer.

You were never *really* flying. You coundn't have been, because your machine didn't follow the laws of aerodynamics. You only thought you were because you were far enough away from the ground.

And our society doesn't follow those laws, either. Well, not those flying ones. The aerodynamics part we have pretty much down pat. It's the laws of how to live that we haven't got figured out yet. We think we have our society, and yeah, things aren't quite right, but if we pedal faster we'll get past the hunger and disease and everything and it'll be smooth sailing. But I don't think our way of life will ever be smooth sailing. We just think we're flying because we're still far enough above ground and we haven't hit bottom yet.

Our species (most native tribes and indigineous people excluded) is the only one on this planet that eliminates its competitors so it can get ahead. The gazelles don't kill the zebras so they can have more grass and expand their territory. And yes, we are homo sapiens, and we have great brain power, and we have opposable thumbs, but that doesn't mean that we're so great we have to kill everything that doesn't feed us or feed our food sources. Even the gazelle isn't afaid of grazing near the lion if it knows the lion just ate. Why would the lion need to kill again?

We seem to have decided that living amongst others and keeping the natural way of life isn't good enough for us. That's for savages. And why leave our lives in the hands of the gods if we can decide for ourselves if we live or die? Just because we think of ourselves as the end-all-be-all doesn't mean we actually are.

Not that I'm saying we have to go back to living in caves or trees or whatever you're thinking. I'm pretty sure there's a way to enjoy our technology and a respectful way of living (to a point, anyway).

Diversity is good. That allows our earth to keep on going in case of a large catastophe. Some creatures would survive. But we like to kill all things that are in our way (coyotes around herds, bugs around farms, tribes near settlements, etc).

Not that I know how to change things.

That's all. Just ruminate on that for awhile, will ya? Make of it what you can, and tell others what you're thinking. That's the only way to fix things.

Thanks for dealing with the rambling, the sound of the soapbox being dragged, and the run-on sentences.

the pool is closed

2005-08-30T10:47:00.000-05:00

Well... so much for the "going swimmingly" part of moving to Chicago. Well, not all of it. I think the kiddie wading pool is still open, so that's at least something.

The swanky receptionist job is no more. Well, correction: the swanky receptionist job is still there, just that I am no more in it. I have NO CLUE why. Neither does my temp recruiter. I mean, really... who can't find me loveable and wonderful?!? And they missed out -- I was going to bring them cookies. Really, it's their loss.

Yesterday, I helped out at the temp agency, proving to them that I am wonderful. Tomorrow I'll be doing the same thing. Today I'm at a swanky financial and investment company downtown... manning the desk ("don't worry about the phones, they're really confusing," she said) and shredding paper.

I've hit the high life at last.

bet your bottom dollar you lose the blues in....

2005-08-22T17:01:00.000-05:00

oh, yes, you guessed it -- Chicago! wow. what a big city. I'm offically here, so it seems. I found an apartment (the first one I visited), I found a swanky receptionist job downtown (the first one I interviewed for), and everything in my new place is organized (all my furniture fits perfectly). and, as you may see, everything is going swimmingly (okay for me, since I was a lifeguard). I'm finding some cool cafes I want to check out... that is, after I earn a paycheck or two... or ten. The natural food store is actually comperable to regular grocery stores -- maybe there's just a good enough demand. I've been to the beach a few times. the beach is free. the beach is also pretty fun... I just lay there on the sand for a while, every now and then saying, "a beach. I'm on a beach." although I'm not a huge fan of melanoma, after spending 80 hours a week this summer in a warehouse selling doorknobs and a restaurant selling burritos, basking in the sun was *wonderful*.

everything is as it should be. I only foresee it getting better.

who lives here?

2005-07-28T02:10:00.000-05:00

as I currently work for a wholesaler, I fill orders for all kinds of cities and companies with odd names. Here are some of the more interesting town names (I suppose it might be bad to put up the weird company names):

Tea, SD (do they drink a lot? do they make it?)
Winner, SD (hope it is one)
Manilla, IA (like the envelope)
Montezuma, IA (don't drink the water)
Oconomowoc, WI (not somewhere we sell to, I just like saying it)
Correctionville,IA (guess what's located there)
Ladysmith, WI (do they make them there?)
Argyle, MN (like the socks)

and the winner is...

Nimrod, MN

really, now. who was the genius who named this town? I'm sure there was a reason, but I have no idea what it was.

I'm bubble boy!

2005-07-21T15:01:00.000-05:00

someone should just put me in a bubble, really. it's apparent to me that the world is trying to make me hurt.

so the mexican polka pains eventually disappeared, a few ben gay patches later. however, I then made the decision to play softball with some old coworkers.

first, I was asleep 5 minutes before the game started, in the middle of a glorius nap. then I got a phone call saying I was late (true, I planned on being there early), so I left, half asleep. got to the game and was placed in center field 15 minutes after waking in a daze... I can't catch to save myself even if I'm *awake*. But I was able to throw to shortstop a number of times, to my surprise.

The kicker was when I was up to bat. keep in mind, I haven't done this in over a year. I HIT THE BALL ON THE FIRST TRY. that was good. then I started to run. I ran. really fast. I ran so fast, in fact, that I felt myself starting to topple forward. I hit the base and tripped over it, causing myself to sprawl out over the dirt and gravel. yeah. you're not supposed to slide at first. they asked me if I was okay, and my reply was, "am I safe?" I, indeed, was safe. my next teammate, however, managed to hit the ball right to second, so I wasn't safe for long.

my knee hurt -- I had ripped my jeans -- but it didn't seem too bad. the next day, however, I thought I might die. I actually wondered if it was getting infected, because it also looked kind of gross. and it hurt. a lot. it was red and hot and oozey. but never, fear, fellow reader -- today it appears that I will be fine, and that my leg won't be amputated after all.

I may, however, have to forgo all future physical activity. and it's a good thing my middle name isn't grace, or my life would be *really* messed up.

good for the sweat glands, not for the cartiledge

2005-07-18T13:50:00.000-05:00

so yesterday was an okay day. very good in some respects, not so in others -- hence the average score of "okay". served people food on the patio for the second of my two shifts at the restaurant (that shall remain nameless to protect... um... well, I'm sure someone needs to be protected). didn't make as much money as I should have, but that happens. they were going to close the patio and send me home. they -- in this case, the managers -- then changed their minds, and I stayed a few more hours under the understanding that life is truly unfair. then I went home. the day was going to be over by 10 pm. aaahhhhhhhh.... sleep.....

ROOMIE!!!!!

that's what I heard as I walked in the door. although screaming was not the noise I wanted to hear upon arriving, at least I knew I still had a roommate. she (of course) asked if I wanted to go out with everyone... they were going latin dancing...

here comes my mistake. against my better judgement, I decided to go with them. I figured, "I'm still young, I'm working away my summer, I should have fun, I will suck it up and go out!" I knew I wouldn't get in until after 2 am (something I NEVER do, especially now as I work 80 hours a week) and I had only ten minutes to shower and get ready. The getting ready part was the least of my worries, as all the girls in apartment were impressed at my agility in the bathroom. I got to the place in one piece, and had a good time. danced a lot -- it was kind of a mexican polka, not totally sure. fun, nonetheless. all I know was that I got to work on my not-leading-the-guy-while-dancing skills. Also got a workout that makes up for me not going to the gym this weekend. The guys all paid for EVERYTHING. (that was nice of them!) the getting home after 2 am (2:37, to be precise) wasn't even all that hard, either.

The hard part was realizing that I may be getting too old for this.
Is that possible? Me, hardly past my quarter-of-my-life mark (and that does depend on my life expectancy), am too old for *dancing*? Me, who thinks getting older is pretty cool? Me, who even likes the grey hair I have coming in (as long as it comes in a nice set of streaks or something). But also me, whose knees and hips are screaming in pain as I sit in my office chair at work.
really, I just might die tonight at the restaurant. it's time to buy some ace thermal wraps for my knees. I'd get them for my hips, but I don't think that would work well. curse my roommate for her fun activities she gets me into.
the blue hair and cartons of depends are on their way.

chicago is a big city

2005-07-11T11:45:00.000-05:00

so I discovered something this weekend: chicago is a big city.

yeah, I know. most people know this already. most of those people are city people. I am not. I realized this over the weekend. between having to grow balls on the highway in a big hurry so I could merge, to needing two people to help me parallel park, I found out how much of a child of suburbia I truly am.

"so what?" you may think. a reasonable thought, I'll admit. I will tell you "what".

this is only a situation because I'm moving there in a month.

yes, in less than a month I'll be moving there with the brilliant sivilicious and her cat. it will be good. it will be a learning experience (to say the least). I will learn to parallel park. I will learn to ride the el. (which can I tell you how glad I am to finally know it is an abbreviation for elevated! I only wish it was an acronym...) I'm sure I will learn other things that I don't even know I don't know yet. I may not even realize that I'm learning things I didn't know I didn't know, I'll just all of a sudden know them.

I hope my odds of survival are in my favor.