2012 Movie List

The Iron Lady – Meryl Streep plays Margaret Thatcher, Oscar nod for sure

Coriolanus – Starring and directed by Ralph Fiennes (aka Voldemort). I love a modern spin on Shakespeare.

We Need to Talk about Kevin – Stars Tilda Swinton (love) and John C. Rielly (tolerate).  It’s an odd pairing but it might work in this artsy drama.  Most of the film was shot in a day in one room.

Albert Nobbs – Glen Close plays a woman playing a man in 19^th century Ireland.  Probably an Oscar nod for her as well.

Man on a Ledge – I like Sam Worthington and have been fond of Jamie Bell since he danced his way into my heart as Billie Eliot.  Elizabeth Banks and Kyra Sedgwick’s roles should be flipped.  Banks is the detective and Sedgwick the news reporter, WTF?  Oh, and Ed Harris plays the villain. 

Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters – Yup. They’ve twisted a Brother’s Grimm story to jump on the supernatural moneymaker bandwagon.  Could be fun, might be a rental.

The Raven – John Cusack plays Edgar Allen Poe in a Sherlock Holmes-like mystery movie.  Who doesn’t like Poe?

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen – Not a big fan of gooey romadromedies but I LOVE Ewen McGregor and Emily Blunt (finally forgave her for The Adjustment Bureau).  This movie will either be thought-provoking or pointless.

Hunger Games – YES!  I read this series long before they ever announced turning it into a movie.  Read it!

The Avengers, The Amazing Spider-Man, The Dark Knight Rises – Considering how often I talk about super heroes I don’t feel the need to explain these three.

Dark Shadows – Um, Johnny Depp as a vampire, naturally.  Directed by Tim Burton, need I say more? 

Snow White and the Huntsman – I love that Snow White is no longer a pale damsel in distress.  She’s a strong, bold fighter who happens to live with little men.  Now, when I think of strong young women I don’t think of Kristen Scott Thomas but I’ll give her the opportunity to prove me wrong. 

Prometheus – I must admit I don’t know much about this film but it’s directed by Ridley Scott so I have to include it.

Stay tuned for my Summer 2012 Must See list!

A Christmas Miracle

Statistics show that CPR has a success rate of 3-7%.  Why even bother with it then?  Chest compressions are hard to do (think cardio kickboxing hard) and they’re no picnic for the recipient.  Even if the dead person comes back to life, her chances of having proper brain function are decreased and heart disease greatly increased.  Worse still, a broken rib (which happens A LOT) could puncture a lung and then out wheels the ventilator – or what I like to call the balloon pump.  And sometimes people die, get CPR and come back just to die all over again.  So, I still ask you, why bother? 

Here’s why:

Today I witnessed a miracle.  I can’t divulge much information due to HIPAA violations.  But trust me it’s an AMAZING story; some might even call it a Christmas miracle.  Today my patient, who until recently had a very poor prognosis, held my hand and said “Thank You.”  It gave me goose bumps. 

The fact that 93-97% of us may never be brought back to life, but a small percentage could die (three times even) and come back with little to no morbidities is, well, a fucking miracle!

So, if you are reading this and are not yet CPR certified then shame on you.  I’m thinking of making that a requirement for friendship now.  No one wants to drop dead next to a friend who all they can do is stand there crying for help while they soil themselves.  Be useful; make me one of the 3%, dammit!       

Bring it on streets of G-bury

My goal was to start out slow and jog for 20 minutes.  Somewhere between minutes 17 and 20 I got lost.  More like I wasn’t in the location I had intended to be.  It’s not that I’m directionally challenged (I’m not, thank you very much) I just don’t pay attention.  I daydream A LOT and forget to look at street names.  It also doesn’t help that I’m new to the neighborhood. 

So, I ended up jogging for 31 minutes instead of 20.  Seems like getting lost works for me.  In fact I think that will be my new lose weight/get in shape plan for 2012.  No more safe and boring treadmill or mapping out my jogs.  I will just head out blindly, have no regard for street signs and see where I end up.  This could either be brilliant or dangerous.  Brilliance and I are close friends and danger’s never held me back before.  Bring it on streets of G-bury.

Age ain't nothing but a number

I’ve never danced with a 90 year-old man, but I did last night.  We did the twist.  He moved around better than most 60 year olds.  

I asked him for his secret to living to be 90.  I never got a straight answer from him though.  This guy was genuine Zen.  He never turned the TV on or whined or complained.  When people walked into his room his face would light up and he’d smile.  I’m pretty sure he even smiled in his sleep. 

How the hell did this man get to be so happy?  It wasn’t an eccentric fake happiness but the content with life kind of happiness.  I want that.  I’d like it now please.  But I’m guessing that kind of Zen only comes with several decades under your belt.  

Perhaps I should start my journey to happiness right now.  Instead of thinking of each passing year as just an increase in age, maybe I could see it as one step closer to my kind of happy.  Maybe I’ll try that as 2012 approaches.  Maybe.

Today I Learned

TIL
- I’m probably nocturnal.  I had way too much fun and clarity working the night shift last night into this morning.

- Oompa Loompas are just little people with liver failure.  Not only do people with advanced liver failure glow orange but all their excretions are orange (or neon yellow) and they smell like the fake butter they put on your popcorn at the movie theater. 

- My gag reflex does have its limits: orange liver failure patient and butternut squash for dinner DO NOT MIX!

-In my new town, when an older woman rings your doorbell and asks to “use an outside electrical outlet to recharge your elderly neighbors’ powered wheel chair to take to him in the nursing home,” it really means she wants to use the electrical outlet, not rape, rob or murder you.  Although, if the latter were the case, I was prepared, I had my sword on me.  Turns out to be a sad story, the guy next door is dying and he’s been gone from home so long that the electricity has been shut off.  I also think I saw some squirrels casing the joint.  I guess we could do worse for neighbors (the squirrels, not the dying guy, oh that sounds bad, you know what I mean).

I know it's early but I'm all set with learning for the day.

I DID IT!

Did you feel that?  A slow steady breeze that made your hair stand on end but put you at ease at the same time?   That was me sighing.  Months of hard work, dedication, fatigue and fear were all carried away on that breath.  I passed my state’s nursing exam and am officially an RN.  I cannot stop smiling even as I sit here typing.  I don’t know exactly how to verbalize what I’m feeling right now.  I could say something about feeling like a million bucks or like I have an armful of puppies…None of it would get to the heart of the matter.  All I can say is thank you for thinking positive and for your encouragement.   

Foot-In-Mouth

Ever have a bad case of foot-in-mouth disease?  I know some of you are afflicted with the issue on a regular basis.  Well, the other day I was on the other end of the situation: I got foot-in-mouth shat on by a coworker.  I almost don’t want to share what was said…but I will.  During some down time at work I decided to seek advice for a Halloween costume (for a certain ghoulish wedding coming up).  I was presented with some pretty lame ideas but the worse was when someone said “Oh, you should go as Whoopi Goldberg, you look just like her.”  To which I snapped my head around and said “[Expletive] you!”  It was the first time I ever spoke like that at my new job.  Ah, who am I kidding, it wasn’t the first time.  Still, I think I startled the girl because she tried to backtrack with “I mean when she was in Sister Act with her hair down.”  Another expletive was about to drip from my tongue but instead I kindly told her that I was no longer entertaining suggestions from her.  So, as a lesson to us all, when making new friends and acquaintances, try thinking before speaking.  Consider the rule about not asking a woman about her due date until you’ve confirmed actual conception.  Now add to it don’t tell someone they look like another individual who is unattractive and has no eyebrows. 

I’m just sayin’. 

Tweet Me

I'm on twitter now!  (whyiamhme) Seems like so long ago that I was satisfied with just a phone call or an email.  Now I'm blogging and tweeting, which sounds like a euphemism for something dirty.  But I understand it's how all the cool kids talk these days.  As for Facebook, I'm still a no, just can't bring myself to do it.  I think I've put myself out there enough for 2011.  I will probably write an actual book before I join Facebook.  Sorry to hate.

Have a great day!  Oh, and follow me so we can tweet!

Flash mob, anyone?

No, this is not a political statement, rather an expression of absolute funkness.  I’ve been watching Laurieann Gibson’s Born to Dance (don’t judge) and feeling out the steps to Lady Gaga’s Poker Face routine.  I know the song is sooo 2008 but you have to admit it’s pretty catchy, clever and the dance routine is HOT.  Give me a few more weeks and I will have it down and you will be amazed.  All I ask is that you join me and make a flash mob of it.  Come on, it won’t be hard; we can modify it if need be kind of like they do for those group exercise classes.  It’ll be fun…pu-leeeze!!!!

Theatre

There was a time when going to the theatre used to mean something to me.  It was inspiring and uplifting…I felt changed after being there.  All the creativity and work to bring a story to life made me feel alive as well.  I remember watching Hedwig and the Angry Inch (with Anthony Rapp) and I was in such awe.  I was right there with him the entire way lifting up my hands during Midnight Radio. When I saw Orpheus Descending with Helen Mirren and Stuart Townsend (3 times!), I knew I was in the presence of mastery.  It also made me see Tennessee Williams in a different way.  There are so many other theatrical performances that have enriched my life by providing me with much more substance than I had when I first arrived.  That being said, it’s been a while since I last felt this way.  I kind of turned away from it all.  In fact, I was dreading going to see The Crucible earlier this week for fear of it being a waste of time.  In my mind I was prepared for a drab stage with pale figures drawing out their lines to milk every single dramatic effect that the play called for.  Yes, shame on me.  Fortunately the show was exactly what theatre is supposed to be: transformative.  Sure there were some kinks in the works being opening night and all but by the middle of the first act I was hooked; I stopped expecting something and just experienced what was laid before me.  When the events unraveled in the final act I was on the edge of my seat, stomach in knots and goose bumps all over.  What an unfortunate mess – Salem, not the show.  And what a political statement to make: provocative for sure and isn’t that what theatre is for?  I got so much out of the show that I felt guilty for having arrived with such bleak expectations.  Theatre, I apologize for underestimating you.  And thank you to the cast and crew of The Crucible for bringing me back like a prodigal daughter.  

If you are in the area, go see the show and you’ll understand what I’m talking about.  

Come on Irene...

My experience with natural disasters only involves tornados and earthquakes (not the one from earlier this week).  I’ve not been in a hurricane and am feeling a bit uneasy about kill joy Irene.  I should also add that Colin McEnroe’s show on Wednesday on NPR has only escalated those feelings.  I don’t know what exactly to expect but I’m hoping it’s nothing like the tornado I experienced decades ago.  Let me tell you about it.

When I was five years old I lived in North Dakota and I can recall a few encounters with tornados (and moose stampedes but that’s a different post).  On one particular occasion I was playing at my friend Donald’s house when the sirens blasted through the air force base signifying a tornado warning.  I figured I would go down into the basement at Donald’s house and wait out the storm with his family.  However, my mother had other plans.  She called Donald’s mom and told her to send me home and Donald’s foolish mom complied.  She opened her front door to guide me outside away from the safety of sturdy shelter and into the wildness of a natural disaster.  I thought Donald’s mom was going to escort me home but, once again, I was wrong.  She simply gave me a pitiful look and pointed her finger towards my house.  As I turned away from my playmate and his careless mother, I looked towards a scene that reminded me of The Wizard of Oz (had the tornado part been in color).  The sky was crazy shades of pink, gray and green.  Papers and debris were swirling all around me.  I had to shelter my face with my arms as I treaded against the wind.  Turning back was not an option.  As frightened as I was by the thought of being swept up by a tornado, I was more frightened about disobeying my mother.  I don’t remember how many steps my short legs took during that storm but it felt like an eternity.  Still, I was determined to make it home.  At least Dorothy had friends and Toto to accompany her; I had to make my journey completely alone…and I was five!  I never let my mom forget the scars left behind from this incident.  Of course she doesn’t think it was that big of a deal and I’m sure she tells the story differently.  But I was altered that day; I had aged far beyond my five years.  I also blame that incident as the source of my determinedness, stubbornness, and superhero alter-ego.  

So, Irene, please just lay low, this year has aged me quite a bit already and I’m just not in the mood for anymore self-actualization right now.

...and we're back...

It was brought to my attention yesterday that I have not posted a blog since May.  Time seems to have gotten away from me.  Funny thing, time…

32 years = my life’s worth of experience

9 years = the length of my marriage (thus far)

15 months = enough time to earn a Bachelor of Science degree in nursing

2 weeks = the amount of time I have before starting my first job as a full-fledged nurse

7 hours = the amount of sleep I got last night (so glad school is over)

2 minutes = the amount of time it has taken to write this post

As for this blog, you best stay posted because I intend to make up for some lost time.

Peace...

...for now

Espresso, KC 101FM and 25 minutes to kill

Today I had my very first espresso.  Perhaps it seems odd that I’ve made it this far without having ever tried it.  I’m over 30 years old, I’ve lived in and visited other countries, one of my BFF’s is super Italian…still, never tried it.  In fact, I don’t even like coffee.  It’s been over 7 years since I last drank the stuff and even then I usually drowned it with sugar and milk until it was no longer identifiable as java.  I love the smell but the caffeine makes me a little crazy: I get jittery, I can’t sleep at night, I can’t stop my foot from shaking, my eyes start shifting left to right, I get hungry…oh wait, I might be recalling a different experience.  Anyway, the point is caffeine does weird things to me and I can never seem to drink enough to make myself get used to it. 

So, I bet you’re wondering what possessed me to have an espresso today?  Well, ultimately I was just being polite.  Earlier today I was in the home of an elderly Italian couple (most of the events preceding this moment have been omitted; different story for a different day).  Right, so, old Italian couple…I don’t speak Italian, they don’t speak English.  I was offered espresso and cake and I couldn’t figure out how to decline the espresso without breaking some social custom or hurting their feelings.  The couple’s daughter was there to translate but I just didn’t feel comfortable declining.  So, I drank up; thankfully it was a tiny cup and the visit didn’t last too long.  Oh, and the cake was delicious.  Between sips and bites I smiled a lot and nodded to a bunch of loud words I didn’t understand.  Lovely visit.  Really, it was fun…or funny…or that might be the espresso talking.

Driving home from my espresso encounter I found myself listening to pop radio, yes, I said pop radio.  Normally KC 101 makes me want to gag but not today.  Today I sang my heart out to the songs I knew and made up words to the ones I didn’t.  Is this caffeine and if so no wonder the youngins love coffee, red bull and bad music.     

Pensive

I believe that life is what you make of it and death befriends us all.

I seek clarity, contentment and peace.

My guess is someday I will neither feel defeated nor triumphant, I will just exist and that will be fine with me.

I see myself as still as air.  Whether I am moved or not, whether I blow cold or hot will make no difference.

I think the origin of the tree parallels that of humankind only they know something that we don’t.

I cannot control the love or hate that exists around me.

I only know my thoughts and feelings so that is where I look for truth.

I understand the mind acts as both key and trap; perhaps honesty is the only way to tell the difference.

I don’t feel the need to strike back if I don’t feel threatened, and I don’t feel threatened when I remain calm.

I used to think that the environment influences the man but what I see is the other way around.

If energy can neither be created nor destroyed, then life (in general) must go on forever.

To My Friends and Family

I apologize if this post seems a little intense but there are a few things that I feel the need to share right now.  I also apologize if some of you are sick of hearing me talk about nursing as if it’s the greatest thing since smart phones.  Well, it is.  I’ve chosen the profession because I care.  I also work hard, play hard, love hard and fight hard and I would fight to the end of days for each and every one of you.  I know I don’t get to see most of you as often as I would like and I know my not being on Facebook doesn’t make it any easier.  But please know that I am here for you, I care, I always have, and I am blessed to have you all in my life.

A superhero in the making

My question is this: are there superhero training camps for adults? And if so, how do I sign up?  I’m talking legit training though not those lame self-help workshops that pop up on Google search (yes, I googled it).  It seems to me any legit camp would be underground and off the military’s radar.  But then how do you find them?  Ah, I know what you’re thinking, you don’t find them, they find you.  Crap!  That can’t be the only way.  I’m supposed to wait around for some cloaked, masked figure to spot me in a brief act of selfless bravery layered with master-mindful badassness?  Come on, I do that every day (Ha!).  No, seriously, I have the heart and the courage, I just need the proper training, a killer outfit and an enhanced ability.  Ok, so if I’m going to talk seriously, then maybe I should look for something more like a vigilante training camp. Eh, that just doesn’t sound as cool.  Sounds more like a beefed-up neighborhood watch filled with pissed-off moms and ex-marines.  Hmmm, that could work actually.  I will continue my search.  

Fear not fellow citizens, soon I will be extraordinary and there to preserve your safety and freedom. 

Some Help from Mr. Frost (The poet, not the guy from Batman, oh wait that's Mr. Freeze)

Soon I will have a decision to make; two separate paths…"two roads diverged…"  For me the road not taken isn’t labeled thus because no one else has followed it, but because it has been less traveled by me.  I rarely chose the path that others expect me to.  I’m sure to them my logic seems flawed or unplanned and maybe sometimes it has been.  But I’ve yet to regret my choices, most of which have enriched my life a great deal.  The fork in the road before me now seems different somehow.  One path seems obvious and ordinary, the other odd and unpredictable.  It is the second road that I would normally choose, the one less traveled by others.  But perhaps it is time to choice a path that has “wanted wear” for my lack of having trodden there.  Maybe I’m changing because I’ve aged (or because I’m tired). 

As you acknowledge that both roads seem “really about the same” I imagine you making a list (as I often do) of pros and cons to weigh each option.  They really are the same.  Which leads me to wonder when you say “I shall be telling this with a sigh…I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference” if that is a good thing?  Or is it with a heavy sigh that you look back on what your path could have been, what you might have missed?  Maybe “all the difference” it will make is based on ones happiness with his decision.  Ah, happiness, something much harder to gauge than power, advancement or money.  Yet, much more satisfying, I think.  I suppose it will make all the difference when I do finally decide.  I think, perhaps, I already have.             

Thanks Bob.

Happy to Help

Since I’ve been in nursing school I’ve had a lot of people ask me for health advice.  Unfortunately I often find that I’m more of a disappointment than a help.  There’s still a lot I don’t know and people have all kinds of issues.  I do know a few things I’m willing to share.  They’re a bit random and you probably already know most of them but now you can’t say I never offered to help.

When you’ve been exposed to someone with a cold or the flu –

Take a shot of vodka or brandy, swish and gargle before you swallow (I’m serious), do this as soon as you get home and again for the next couple of days

Unpleasant foot odor –

Maalox soak: you’ll need Maalox and two pairs of thick socks, soak one pair of socks in the Maalox then put them on your feet, cover with the other pair and let them soak for an hour.

Dry, cracked heels –

Vixx Vapo-Rub dip: slather both feet in Vixx salve, cover with socks, wait an hour

Take ibuprofen for pain but NOT on an empty stomach (causes GI bleed, which may sound innocent but is foul-foul-foul). Oh, and pain followed by vomiting is usually a bad thing and worth a trip to the ER.

Don’t get tricked into taking antibiotics for the flu.  However, do take them for strep throat and take the entire dose.  Antibiotics misuse is how you get MRSA (pronounced mersa).

Calcium is great but won’t do you any good without vitamin D

Most prescribed medications have some food contraindications, grapefruit, licorice and green tea are common culprits; always ask or look them up.

Supplying all this healthcare advice has got me thinking about writing my own How To books.  Here’s a brief list of How To books I’d like to write.  Some I might be qualified to do others not so much.

How to use the self-check-out line (qualified)

How to make churros (not so much but give me a year)

How to use your automobile’s signal light (qualified)

How to drive a getaway car (uh, qualified)

How to incorporate caramel into your day (done)

That’s all I’ve got, folks.

Thanks a lot Blue Moon

My husband has had too much beer this evening.  I just drove 45 minutes in the car with him as he rattled off all kinds of drunken "wisdom."  Don't get me wrong, I'm glad he's happy but I could do without the slobbering soliloquies.

Casting Calls

Some English dude is playing Superman?  Superman!  Henry Cavill from Jersey, Great Britain has been cast to fight for “truth, justice and the American way.”  Seriously?  He better be up to the task and get a damn good voice and diction coach.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the Brits but I also love Superman.  Ok, no one will be able to fill Reeves shoes but at least give it your best effort, Warner Bros.  Yes, I know Batman was played by a Welshman.  But the Bale films were good enough to make up for his shaky accent.  I must add that Bale’s lines were brief and his voice drastically affected when he donned the mask.  But that's okay because he’s Batman: dark, serious, and a laconic at times.  Superman, on the other hand is charming, witty, friendly; he was raised in Kansas for crying out loud! 

I’d also like to share my distaste for the casting of the latest Catwoman.  Seriously, Anne Hathaway?  The girl can’t even dance and Catwoman has moves.  She’s graceful, quick, slinky and she does it all while dressed in plastic, wearing high heels, and working a whip.  Did you see Hathaway try to dance in Bride Wars?  Poor thing, she was all limbs and elbows and she never even caught the beat.  I have much respect for Hathaway as an actress but girl is gonna need some help from a personal trainer, choreographer and a pole dancer.  Who would I rather see play Catwoman?  Jessica Biel or Rosario Dawson would be perfect.

Finally, I’d like to share my excitement about Hunger Games jumping from the YA section of book stores to the big screen, YAY!  Well, yay if they don’t f*#@) it up.  The story is innovative and captivating and you can’t help but become invested in the characters.  So who should play Katniss?  This is hard because we don’t have many teenaged bad ass actresses to choose from.  Saoirse Ronan could do it.  She’s starring in the film Hannah due out later this year; I think she plays a bad ass in that film…  Maybe Chloe Moretz from Kickass could do it but she might be too young and incapable of meeting the acting demands.  Maybe Mia Wasikowska or Willow Smith.  Ha!  Just joking about that last one; I wanted to throw in someone of color but who am I kidding. 

That’s my opinion, folks.  

Last night's stubby follicle incident

Ever wonder what would happen if you failed to recover a fallen eyelash in your eye?  Well, last night I stayed up late reading in bed.  I was tired and, by refusing to surrender the story I was immersed in, was forced to suffer several series of yawns and eye rubbings.  Eventually the warmth of the bed mixed with the lateness of the hour (and perhaps the fact that I had been up since 5:30 am) started to take hold of me.  I returned my book to its resting place and decided to succumb to one of my own.  Seconds later I felt a tickle in my right eye.  Having the unfortunate curse of short, stubby eyelashes I knew right away what the tickle signified.  I accepted that yet another eyelash had fallen victim to being trapped on the inside of my lower eyelid.  I made an effort to guide the eyelash to freedom from the confines of my warm and toasty blanket.  However, I was not successful.  I also was not willing to get out of bed to face the cold.  The next logical step was to ignore the tickle and go to sleep, which I did.  What happened to the lash?  Did it find its own way out?  Was its presence irritating enough to make my eyes water and flush it out?  None of the above.  

It became embedded in on the inside of my eyelid! I woke up this morning and felt the same tickling sensation.  This time I went to the bathroom to put an end to the annoyance.  What I found was a thin pink layer of – cells? Tissue? Mucosa?  Whatever, the inside of my eyelid had engulfed the eyelash!  But the layer was so thin that I could still see the eye lash!  The outline was curved, purple and freaky.  Thankfully it doesn’t tickle anymore but the fact that I know it is there has been driving me crazy.  I want it out.  I’ve tried using several q-tips, saline solution, and even my fingernail but it just won’t budge.  I think it’s a lost cause.  Therefore, I would like to extend my most sincere apologies to the lost eyelash…the one I couldn’t save.  It’s like when Atreyu couldn’t save his horse from the swamp in The NeverEnding Story. 

I wish I had a flying dog.        

PS: I have a theory that short lashes get caught inside the eyelid more often than long lashes.  I need volunteers to help with the research...

Four day weekend? Yes I Can!!!

Not working, no school, no homework (well maybe a little test prep but nothing big), no strict plans, except for the fun ones: hanging with friends, homemade cookies, Pinot Grigio, and a Dr. Who marathon, Whooo-hooo!  Jealous?

To celebrate my free time I decided to take three minutes to create a bucket list.  I’ve included everything that popped into my head (this list has not been edited - except for spellcheck).  I’m certain I have much more to add but I put a time limit on it so as not to get too carried away.  As you’ll soon see I better get into gear because I have a lot to do and can’t cross any of this stuff off my list yet.  

Travel to the UK to climb castle ruins (done as a child but want to do it again)

Eat my way through Spain, France, Italy, and Greece

Go shopping in Singapore

Run a marathon at Disney World

Open a primary care clinic

Learn to play the Guitar so I can…

…be the lead singer in a jazz punk rock band (do those exist?)

Create a genre of music called jazz punk rock and call it jrunk

Play roller derby under the name Death by Chocolate

Run a cupcake truck

Turn my primary care clinic into a one-stop health food, café, healthcare center, WHAT?!

Expand my accessory line, SewChet (yeah, that’s right, because I sew and crochet, you know you love it!)

Write a graphic novel with my best friend/partner/love and do my own illustrations

Rent a Winnebago for a country-wide road trip and make a documentary of my adventure

Make a second attempt at an adventure book club

Sing for money at an NY subway station

Learn to juggle while reciting Shakespeare (long-time goal of mine, I’ve only made it through “To be or not to be…”)

Play Velma Kelly just once…Community theater look out!

Time out!  Wish me luck (or give me money, hahaha).

Call me Kronos

Today I wish I had the power to control time.  I went through a lot of bullsh*! today and would have loved a fast forward feature.  If only I could have sped through my shift in the ED with all the nagging requests, foul body odors, cardiac arrests/stroke codes (seriously, after you’ve seen a few it isn’t fun anymore, it’s just sad), and the needy nurses (I so hope I don’t become one of them), how different my day would have been.  Actually, I’m thinking too small.  I could have also made my 45 minute drive to work take only 10 minutes, which would have allowed me more time to sleep.  Wait, I’m still thinking small.  I could have slowed down time while I slept and then sped through all the BS.  Damn, I could have worked a double shift with no problem at all (my wallet just said “holla”).  And that ridiculous 2.5 hour drive home in the snow could have so been a little burp instead of the major heartburn it turned out to be.  Okay, for real, can anyone tell me how I can get my hands on some super hero powers?  I’m willing to be dropped in a vat of acid, bit by a radioactive spider, and maybe even pushed out a window several flights high if the promise of super-human abilities is concrete.  I would also like to slow down time during the rest of this evening while I sit on the couch, drink too much wine, and watch movies with my hub-love.  Perhaps in the midst of all that we could take a trip to Europe and spend the remainder of the winter in the Greek Isles or on the French Riviera and not have to take  a single vacation day from work.  Oooh, I like that.  Of course I would have to use my impeccable influence on time to procure financial means for such activities.  How could I legally triple, who am I kidding, quadra-f’ing-driple my bank account using my super power to bend time without breaking the law (I am, after all, a super-human not a villain…at least I am today)?  Damn, kind of stuck on that one, any suggestions?  Anyone have a super-human power they wish they could have retained just for one day?

Ode to the Big Man Upstairs

Why are you so f*ing loud?  What are you dragging across your floor, aka my ceiling?  Surely you can hear the television because I can hear it and I’m not even in the same room or the same floor.  And it’s possible to walk without marching or is it your intention to stamp your foot through the floor, aka my ceiling?  

I am done with condo/apartment style living.  DONE.  I would like to vow, this 22^nd hour on the fourth day of the first month in the year 2011, that my next residence will be a single family home or, at the very least a free-standing condo (they do exist, found some in Hamden!).  To those of you who have known me since I moved to CT, you have heard me on countless occasions swear to not buying a house in this state on the basis of my inability to commit to staying here.  Well, I am chucking that philosophy out the window.  I still don’t know where I’ll be in two years, or five, but after my RN program ends, I will no longer be living under a poker den, above a deaf, elderly couple, beside a pot-head who loves to blast bad rap, or next to David the Gnome who makes noises I still haven’t been able to properly identify.  Okay, so I don’t live next to the David the Gnome but I used to live in a building with a guy who looked just like said gnome and who was also extremely noisy.  He made sounds that resembled something like running on a treadmill but if you ever saw the man, you wouldn’t consider that he had attempted or was even capable of such an activity.  

DONE.

Oh, yeah, and Happy 2011

Forgot to mention it earlier: Yay, 2011!  Well...I wish you all the best.  I do hope 2011 is as swift as its predecessor but perhaps with less sadness and losses.  I also wish I had something inspirational to say... I can't think of anything right now.  Rest assured when I do think of something, I will be sure to share it.

Good Luck

King George VI, aka, Prince Albert, aka the Duke of York, aka Queen Elizabeth II's daddy

If you've been mulling over whether to see The King's Speech, might I nudge you in the right direction?  Go see it!  It's an absolutely lovely film; it's brilliant really.  And I'm not just saying that so I can use British colloquialisms.  I enjoyed the experience and it was much more light-hearted than I had anticipated.  Oscar-bound for sure.  If you're an anti-Brit filmer (which is sad, really) then you might want to pass this up.  You might also give up ever acquiring an appreciation of the English language or intellectual comedy for that matter.  Oh wait, I didn't mean to type that; it was so judgmental, which isn't like me.  And yet, I can't bring myself to press the delete button.

G'day, love.