Yup

Christmas Eve is my favorite holiday by far and this year only solidified it's spot on top of my 'favorite holiday' list. I love being able to drive down to see my family after work (well, the actual drive was a team effort). It's wonderful to not have to drop several hundred dollars and try to plan several months in advance. It was fun to introduce Mr.Wonderful to my extended family. He was a hit and fit right in. I knew he would be well received, everyone he encounters loves him.
We hit the road back to Seattle around 9pm on the 24th and got home around 1am. Mr. Wonderful--er "Santa"-- had one more gift for me and I opened it here. We were so excited about our new toys and stayed up until 3ish playing!
While I wouldn't trade playing with Christmas toys in the wee hours of the morning for the world, waking up Christmas day for work was no easy task! I worked 5 of the next 6 days, and needless to say I'm pooped. Work has been particularly exhausting lately and I worry that I'm starting to feel burnt out. Our patient acuity has been insanely high over the past couple of months and it just creates a very tense working environment. I am grateful for the next week, as I don't work again until Thursday! Then I'll work a couple of long stretches again, then will seek reprieve in LA! We found some super cheap tickets on Southwest awhile ago, and said "why not?" So January 14th (coincidentally, the 6-month mark...), we'll escape the dreary, cold, wet winter here and embrace a warm and hopefully sunny southern California, where I am sure that I was meant to live in the first place.

No crazy exciting things to report. I could go on and on about work, but it's frowned upon. I need to find an outlet for all that tension and stuff... it's driving me nutty! I am starting to dislike working long stretches of days in a row because I don't have time or energy to think about anything BESIDES work or do anything but recover from the day. It thwarts my cardiovascular comeback, it drains me of motivation to do anything fun. I love my job, I promise.. but too much of a good thing is never a good idea. I need to figure out a better way to schedule myself.
Hopefully I can figure that out in the next week and also reflect on the past YEAR and all its goodness and lessons learned.

Text Twist (sit, wit, wits, its, twit, twits...), etc.

So this whole dentist thing... I am quite conflicted! The entire staff is really very kind and personable and very welcoming. But I just cannot get over the shaky hand. I'm sorry! I really don't want to go back to this place, but I really should get my teeth cleaned! They keep CALLING ME about the damned appointment to bulk up my molars. Not only do I need the cleaning, but the original filling that Lipstick fixed still hurts. I would say it is getting worse, not in a dramatic fashion, but I feel it more and more often. It's probably just that the cavity underneath the filling she replaced is slowly growing. Sigh.

I feel comfortable telling them that I don't want to to the molar-bulk right now, but don't know how to say somethings wrong with that filling, but I want to get it fixed elsewhere.

I need to figure out how to get my records from this place (x-rays and such) because insurance will only cover so many x-rays so often. I don't want to be mean and say "You're nice, but your hand shakes so I'm taking my business elsewhere..." but that is what it ultimately boils down to. I've thought about how I can skirt around it... tell them that I'm moving far away or something... but I hate lying (especially to such nice people!) and it always ends up far too complicated. Boo!

In other news, Text Twist (warning, click on this link with caution, as it is a game that WILL take over your life), is my new favorite hobby. (Don't judge me.) My mind is constantly thinking of what words I can make out of the six letters in a different word, what six letters would make a up a good tricky word for the game, etc. I can't walk down the street without seeing a STOP sign and thinking 'stop? top..tops..pot..pots..opt..opts..spot.....etc' It's getting to be quite ridiculous. In conversation even I find it hard to focus on what the person is saying because the second they drop a six letter word, I feverishly start mentally rearranging the letters to get as many points as possible. I might have a small problem on my hands.

I'm slowly and anxiously getting back to the g-y-m. I'm hesitant to even acknowledge it for fear of jinxing the whisper of a comeback I'm approaching. On December 17th they're opening the new gym with the pool and classes, etc. I'm looking forward to that, and hope that some cross training will make getting back to running more practical and fun. There's a guy at my church (the pastor's father no less.. (...biological, not Heavenly...)) that is/was a running enthusiast. We met him early on when we started to get involved in this church and I always admired his wisdom and soft spoken nature. Last Sunday he asked how my recovery was coming and I didn't know what he was talking about-- then I realized, o yea I had surgery. Durr. I told him I feel pretty good but admitted that getting back to running is a really big challenge, and he offered some great advice. It was nice to hear from somebody who gets it... somebody who had been there... and who has come back! All encouragement is always appreciated, but there's something about hearing it from someone who truly understands where you're at that makes it that much sweeter. So, we'll see I suppose!

I can't wait to get home for the holidays and see my family. When I moved a year ago, I thought I'd see everyone so much more, but am shocked and disappointed (in myself) that the frequency of visits is still low. Maybe that should be a new years resolution. Either way, I can't wait to see everyone! I am also excited to introduce Mr. Wonderful. :) It's about time I bring someone to these family gatherings, shoot. I get to work Christmas Day (7am to 730pm, love me some day shift!), so we'll be driving back to Seattle late at night on the 24th. I'm praying for good weather... 'they' keep saying that towards the end of the month, the weather will get snowy again. Seattle with snow? Wtf. I don't really care, it will take a natural disaster to prevent me from going home. Wheather or not I get back in time for work... I'll try my darndest, but I will not miss family Christmas for it. Here's to the holiday spirit! (trip..trips..spit..pit..pits..its..sit..rip..rips..tip..tips....)

White Elephant-- I mean super fancy stuff.

Preface
The way the legend of the white elephant was explained to me went something like this: in some far away land, long long ago, a white elephant was a super rare animal that only the highest people of the highest class might ever dream of owning. It was a status symbol, and the best possible one to have. A white elephant also brought prosperity and good fortune, suggesting the owner was wise and just. Upon the rare occasion someone got a white elephant, they were initially thrilled. However they soon realized it wasn't as great as they'd imagined. Since this animal was so rare and so important, it required delicate and around the clock care and it was insanely high maintenance. They could not be sold, slaughtered, be put to work, or given away. Soon enough the white elephant became a horrible and costly burden, and the owner no longer wanted it. Nobody wanted it.

So with modern day white elephant gift exchanges, I was under the impression you're supposed to bring something that nobody really wants. Something random, funny, off kilter a little bit.

So my small group decided to do a white elephant gift exchange. I couldn't think of something good... I consulted with people, googled ideas, but ultimately resorted to stopping by the clearance rack at Safeway. I pondered going to Goodwill, but there isn't one super close by so, that ruled out that option. Safeway failed me, so minutes before it was time to go, I was scrounging around my apartment. I ultimately found a touch light (where you just push the light and it turns on-- I think it's kinda cool, I won't lie), some sterile gloves from my "Nurse Kit" I got in nursing school, alcohol swabs, a loofah and some other exfoliating glove. Random, but that's okay, right? It's a white elephant exchange! I found an empty box in the recycling-- Golden Graham Treats. I stuffed it full and wrapped it in record time.

Flash forward to the exchange. I was excited. I was hoping to get something relatively cool-- someone else's junk could be my treasure! There were 9 people present, I drew number 8. The first person opened a gift and it was fancy-- two big martini glasses with a pomegranate martini mix. Yowzer, someone missed the white elephant memo... The next gift someone opened was a gift box of different fancy teas. What?! Who are these people!?! The next thing was a brand new fancy pants Mr. Potato Head. Really?! People spent REAL money on this?!?! Next was an ice cream topping set complete with cute bowls and everything. Oh shit. Some poor soul who put some real $$$ into this is going to get my touch lamp, loofah and alcohol swabs. How embarrassing! I prayed that no one would choose my box and I could just choose it myself and save someone from getting cheated (and save myself from mortification). However, the second I said "amen," the next person grabbed my modestly wrapped box off the table. I have to leave. I have to get out of here. I cannot watch this happen. But I was paralyzed and unable to sprint to the door like I so badly wanted to. Mr. Wonderful sat next to me, gleefully chuckling at my horror. Box unwrapped, the recipient was like "Awesome! Golden Graham Treats!!" Phew! They didn't open the box! As the next person chose their gift, I subtly made my way over to the unfortunate soul that got my box. I explained its contents and to not worry, that I'd steal it from him so he could get something awesome. He erupted into fits of laughter, far better than the response I expected: getting kicked out of small group. My plan worked marvelously and the only person who didn't get something super fancy was me, which was well deserved as I was the only person who didn't drop an entire paycheck on this shenanigan.

I am pretty annoyed to tell the truth. Am I completely wrong about the white elephant gift exchange??? Who are these clowns... how did they not know that you're not supposed to get ridiculously awesome things?! At the end of it, everyone got a good laugh from my misunderstanding, but I still maintain that they're the ones who misunderstood.

Dental Dilemma

Within the past couple of weeks, I have had some insanely bizarre dental encounters. What sparked everything is something got stuck in my teeth one night so I decided to floss, which is an activity I very rarely participate in. While flossing something violent happened in my mouth and a tooth felt really funny. I learned the next day that if I chewed on that side, I would know what excruciating pain really feels like. For a solid five days I just chewed on the other side. I hate going to the dentist... if I could just be a unilateral chewer, that was a fine enough solution for me. However, I kept forgetting, and even brushing my teeth was uncomfortable, so I decided that since I have the insurance (even though I've learned that it's CRAP) I might as well use it and get this taken care of.

I looked up a dentist on 1800-dentist and made sure he was covered by my insurance. I was particularly drawn to this DDS because it had a blurb about how they're good with "high anxiety patients." I think I mentioned I hate the dentist, and I get VERY anxious when I'm there. This guy sounded like a good fit. I called and was surprised they could see me the very next day. I went to their website to print off the new patient paperwork, and microscopic part of me felt good about going.

I walked in at 8:18am and was quickly whisked to the back where they started x-raying (EACH INDIVIDUAL TOOTH!!! talk about extensive...). Then the lady said "I'll go get the dentist." I waited patiently and within a minute or two, in walked a younger middle aged Asian woman with poorly applied lipstick. This was shocking to me. On the website, the dentist I made an appointment with was pictured as an old balding white man. Who was this impostor? There were no other dentists listed at the practice. Baldy was IT. The website is even http://www.baldy'sname.com! Being non-confrontational, I rolled with it and just kept thinking 'You'd better be covered by my insurance!' She found the filling that I had shattered with my flossing escapade and fixed it. They even gave me the laughing gas so it wasn't too bad. Among the top 5 things I hate in life are those oral Novocaine shots. MAN they HURT! She finished and told me there was another cavity they found on the bottom that needed to be filled a different day. She started motioning for me to go to the front desk to get it scheduled, but I thought I was getting a teeth cleaning out of this deal too. Afterall, when I called to set up the appointment I didn't really mention the immense pain that I was in... I just asked for a new patient appointment and I assumed that a teeth cleaning would be part of that. However, I was wrong. Lipstick then informed that I would have to schedule the cleaning as a separate appointment and that the hygienist is very busy, so it might be awhile.

I think that's bizarre. In my short 24 (almost 25 thank you very much) years, every time I've gone to the dentist they clean first, fix second. They never just bypass the cleaning. I shrugged my shoulders, kind of eager to leave anyway, so I scheduled the cavity for early the next week and left.

Bizarre #2: I was still weirded out by the whole first visit. Strange dentists... no cleaning... just an off feeling. My mom suggested I just get this whole shenanigan taken care of, then the next time I need a dentist I look elsewhere. Good advice. I walked in and got situated in the same dentist chair only to be greeted by Baldy! I felt a small sense of relief. Phew, this is how it was supposed to be. He started getting situated and made some small talk. Seemed like a nice old man. He asked me to open my mouth and he put his thumb on my bottom teeth and I felt it. A very strong tremor. My dentist has a shaky hand. The man who would be drilling into my molar was unable to control his fine motor movements. Then I remembered that huge Novocaine needle. His hand was still in my mouth and my eyes BUGGED out as I frantically searched for a fire escape or something to get me OUT. It was a very small little room and there was no escape! My heart rate increased and I'm positive my blood pressure was through the roof. I was sweating. Tears formed in my eyes. I pleaded with God to send Lipstick back. There was nothing I could do. He swabbed the topical numbing stuff on a Q-tip and put it where the deadly needle would be. No assistant was in sight. Maybe someone with a steady hand would rescue me and do the injection. Within seconds that torture device was ready and he even SQUIRTED IT INTO THE AIR BEFORE COMING AT ME WITH IT! I hoped I was having a nightmare. I couldn't breathe. Tears were streaming down my face at this point (so much for handling the anxious patient, eh??? I didn't even get gas this time!! I needed a stiff drink...) He started moving towards my mouth in what felt like uber slow motion and the needle went closer and closer to my teeth. I heard it clink against my pearly whites as he shook. I felt faint. It went in my gums and it hurt like nothing I've ever felt before. It went deeper and deeper and as sharp white pains went from all different directions in my face. As he worked he mumbled "there are several nerves that connect to this tooth... so we'll have to go from three different angles..." That meant two more injections. He finally pulled the first needle out and I felt like I had run a marathon. I was panting, my hoodie concealed the sweat drenched t-shirt underneath it. I felt pale and kind of shaky myself at that point! The same thing happened TWO MORE TIMES.
I eventually surrendered to my fate and that I might have to sacrifice a molar. At least it was in the back and wouldn't be too obvious.

After what felt like eternity, he was finishing up. At this point, Baldy told me that my back teeth are moving and that there is space between my molars that will allow food to get stuck and cavities to form. He said he wants to "bulk those teeth up" to prevent it. I looked at him with the fear of God in my bloodshot eyes and feebly asked "when does that need to happen?" He told me he took care of one already (I am 90% sure I blacked out during that filling...) and that I needed to come back for the other side. I must have replied... a gurgle of some sort came from my throat. My whole face was numb. Not just one side, the entire thing. On the right side of my face it went all the way to my ear. I was certain I would never regain feeling in part or all of my face ever again and I entertained ideas of what to do with the $$$ from the law suit settlement.

I reluctantly scheduled a "buffering" appointment. I felt a teensy ray of hope when she said it would be with Lipstick, but still vowed to never return to that place again.

Bizarre #3: At 9:50pm that same night, Baldy called me. I didn't recognize the number, so I let it go to voicemail. His message sounded so creepy. His purpose was just to follow up to make sure that as the Novocaine wore off (twelve hours later...) that my bite felt okay blah blah blah. On the surface his intentions seem quite noble, but I just think it is SO WEIRD to call that late at night if it isn't... emergent.

Bizarre #4 (YES THERE IS MORE!): At work one day I noticed I had a voicemail so I listened to while eating lunch. Lo and behold it was the dentist's office. The receptionist (who is so nice, by the way) said that Baldy wanted to be the one to do the buffering so I needed to reschedule for a time that he would be in the office. Hell no. I didn't call back until the day before the scheduled appointment. I just called to confirm that I wasn't going to show up and that I would call later to reschedule. I have no intention of rescheduling.

While I want to swear off dentists, I know they're necessary. The original filling that Lipstick fixed still hurts. Not nearly as bad, but it's far from comfortable. Anyone know of a good dentist in Seattle???

Strike one, Seattle

It snowed. A lot. Now it's very cold.

On Sunday as church was ending, I heard squealing from people standing near me and looked at them, curious why they were creating such a commotion. I saw that they were pointing out the window at giant white flakes floating from the sky. NOOOOOOOOOOOO. I could have cried.
Fortunately, that nonsense stopped before anything stuck and I breathed a sigh of relief and refused to listen to anyone trying to warn me that it was coming back soon.

On Monday, Mr.Wonderful and I delivered a meal to a fellow small grouper who just had surgery. As we drove to Queen Anne, that pesky white stuff came down again. He giggled like a school boy with glee as I glowered in the passenger seat. We chatted with our friend for about ten minutes. I wanted to stay longer and play; she has FUN kids that I got to briefly babysit on the day of her surgery. However, there was no denying the fact that the weather was turning quite fiercely and it'd be wise to get home sooner than later.

I was shocked at how quickly it got 'bad.' It was the kind of snow that you see at the ski lodge... tiny white flakes, super strong wind... When you look at it under the street lamp you think "holy blizzard!" It stuck to the ground at an alarming rate. The roads started getting slick and traffic started going painfully slow. I was quite tense and so relieved I wasn't the one driving. We were almost back to my apartment. There is one sick hill before you can turn to my parking lot and we prayed as we inched up it. About halfway the wheels started slipping. We fishtailed and then just stopped. A horn honked behind us--- really, Toyota Camry??? Can't you see we're slipping?! Mr. Wonderful did an awesome job at being patient and safe and doing everything possible to get up that hill. We tried to go where there was snow (not just ice) to get some traction, but it was to no avail. We decided to park on a side street and walk the remaining way. Once on the side street, however, he wanted to try to get up the hill one more time on a parallel residential street. We couldn't make it a block. After three valiant efforts (and a lady watching us out her window...), we surrendered and parked six blocks away. We scurried to my apartment, cranked the heat.

It was a fun night... one of the benefits of living on the corner of a big intersections and having a lot of windows is you get to see some action when there is inclement weather... We bounced around from window to window... "we've got a slider!" or "here comes a BUS!" We saw some crazy people... some unfortunate car abandoning... but no one was seriously hurt or anything so I felt less guilty for watching others struggle with the elements from my warm perch.

We were stranded for a day... Tuesday morning we went searching for a sled, but everyone within walking distance was sold out. Darn! We walked all around the neighborhoods watching kids have the time of their lives as they flew down the steep hills... secretly hoping someone would offer us a ride! We walked by several sleds just SITTING in someone's yard or propped up against a fence. It took all of our strength to not borrow them... and we definitely contemplated ringing a few doorbells and asking. I wanted to find some cardboard and write "Will work for sled" on it. Worth a shot.

We finally got the guts to drive and we found a weird foam saucer for $16.99--- ripoff? Yes. But our options were SPARSE so we embraced it anyway. After greasing the bottom with vegetable shortening, we found a hill with no kids on it and went at it. It was so fun! Within no time at all there were 4 other kids there and a parent who was monitoring the intersection at the bottom! Perfect! One kid let us use his sled that was WAY better than our saucer... We had no 'tracks' on the bottom, so the saucer just kept going to the curb... it hurts when you hit the curb! The actual sled was awesome though and it went SO FAST.

It's still 20 degrees. I still refuse to drive. While I was 'stranded' for a day, I was with great company so it was far less traumatic than it could have been! Dare I say... fun! However, I still claim my dislike for snow and am quite irritated at Seattle-- I thought I escaped this nonsense when I left Chicago! They've been having weather in the 60s as the snow has fallen here. Go figure!

It's been an interesting couple of months. Several blog-worthy events.. hopefully they'll make it here sooner than later.

I get to spend T-Day tending to sick kids and embracing time and a half. I never care about working the holidays until I hear other people talking about how awesome it is to be with their families blah blah blah. Then I get a little melancholy. I suppose I will just look forward to Christmas Eve that much more!

Back in the Saddle Again

Praise the Lord, I finally went back to work. The beautiful chaos was insane, but I couldn't help but smile inside amidst it all. My legs and feet are throbbing after thirteen hours (love me some over time!) of running around like a crazy person, but it hurts so good. Wouldn't you know it I worked today, and am not scheduled again until the 12th! Another workless week ahead, but some fun activities are planned so hopefully boredom will not come back.

The past four weeks have been mind numbingly boring. It was ridiculous and I struggled with it a lot. But who can legitimately complain about being bored... especially when those you would complain to are so busy and overwhelmed. It was kind of a lonely place to be. Just makes me all the more excited to get back to normal life!

I think one of the best things about going back to work is that I'm exhausted, and I think I'll sleep through the night tonight without waking up eighteen times. Also, I hope that I'll fall asleep without taking Tylenol PM or Nyquil or tossing and turning for several hours. The whole insomnia bit does not suit me well.

Today was great, and to top it off, Mr. Wonderful surprised me by making me dinner when I got home. AND DESSERT. How'd I get so lucky? However, he proceeded to beat me (twice) at our favorite card game. Whatever, I'll take it. :)

They cut me.

So last Thursday morning my mom drove me to the Totem Pole entrance of the hospital. Approximately two hours later I was sliced open and they took out this:
SICK. 20cm, 4lbs, an ovary, one set of fallopian tubes, a lot of "holy toledo!"'s, and 20 staples later, it was over. I stayed in the hospital for one night and was discharged early afternoon the next day. I was so grateful to get my own room and to go home the next day. Honestly, I do NOT like being the patient.
My parents are insanely wonderful and my mom stayed until Sunday and was relieved by my dad who stayed until today (Wednesday). They are rock stars and I could not have recovered so smoothly without them.
The first couple of days were plagued mostly with nausea from the narcotics I got, so I quit those by Saturday night. I went to church Sunday morning, looking a little rough around the edges, but I felt so much better once I was moving and out of my apartment. I wow-ed (read: grossed out) people with my staples and had a grand ole time. I was ready to come home by the end of it. Mr. Wonderful stuck around for awhile after church and we watched (read: slept through) a movie with my dad then went on a short (three blocks, despite my begging to go farther) walk. It's been gravy since.
I have been surprised with how okay I feel. I expected it to hurt far more than it does. Sure, I can feel it... I still waddle a little bit when I walk. But on a scale of big deals, it scores very very low. Yesterday my dad and I walked around Greenlake; that's when I knew I was fine! It took us a while, but we made it around the whole lake.. and I was up for another lap, but decided to not push my luck.
This morning my dad took me to get the staples out. At that appointment I learned that the word of the day is BENIGN. Praise the Lord! I am so grateful that this cyst was actually just a cyst and nothing funky. I never had significant reason to believe it was the c-word, but even the 0.01% chance scares the dickens out of me and I am glad to put that worry to rest.

So now I have three weeks until I go back to work. I will go back to coaching on Monday, but am limited to standing. That sucks a lot because what I love about coaching is being active and playing.. but it will be good to have an activity regardless. The MD told me I get to judge when I run again, which is kind of dangerous. But this one is too messy to rush anything. It's not like my knee will hurt worse if I run.. it's my abdomen will spill open if I run. That's just messy.

While I wouldn't wish the whole shenanigan on anyone, I must say it's gone rather smoothly and the timing of it is quite ideal. I have great insurance, an employer that is working with me, and family who jumped when I said "help!" I feel really fortunate for how it's all gone down and I'm excited to get back to normal life!

Would you like some brownie with your garlic?

Yesterday, I bought box brownies to make for Mr. Wonderful and me to enjoy during our approaching adventure. I'm not much of a cook and while I enjoy baking, I still didn't have time or energy to make brownies (or anything for that matter) from scratch. So I found a box of mix for $1.25 and was so proud of myself for finding one on sale.

I went home and eventually remembered I had to still put them in the oven before they'd turn to real brownies. I dumped in the water and the egg(white)s with the powder, and then saw that it called for 1/4c. of oil. I don't have oil because as I already mentioned, I don't cook. Then I recalled I had bought (bought'n) extra virgin olive oil when I attempted cooking dinner for Mr. Wonderful on his first day in his new classroom (for the record that meal turned out pretty fantastic if I do say so myself). "Oil is oil, right?" I reasoned. So I dumped it in and started mixing. I wasn't totally mentally present, not paying 100% attention to the task at hand. However, I couldn't help but observe Man, it smells like garlic... (stir stir stir) ...maybe it's this spoon.. maybe it held on to something garlic-y... (stir stir stir)...it is REALLY strong though! And then it hit me. When I bought that damned olive oil, I mistakenly got the garlic flavored version. Ah crap.

Maybe it won't be noticeable enough to make a difference... I taste tested. So wrong! Oh my goodness it was AWFUL. I couldn't get that garlic chocolate taste out of my mouth to save my life. And to make matters worse, I had a huge bowl of the stuff just SITTING there! I had to walk away and regain my composure. I eventually made it back (clothes pin plugging my nose, I kid you not-- the whole kitchen reeked of garlic!) and scooped all that brownie batter into the garbage. Yuck. What a waste! Maybe once or twice a year do I encounter brownie batter and to waste it on garlic is just a shame.

You would think that I immediately took the garbage out to the dumpster, but you would be mistaken. It still sits in the can, and every time the lid flips open I am slapped in the face by the hand of garlic brownies once again. Another kitchen adventure for me. Aye carumba.

In other news: I'm getting cut! I have an insanely huge (20cm, ~8inches!) ovarian cyst (or that's what they're "assuming" anyway... ugh). So they're cutting me open and getting it out. Too big to be done laparoscopically which means I'm out of work for 4 weeks minimum, potentially 6! (but if I have anything to say about it, it will NOT be 6.) No driving for two weeks and I will probably never ever be able to run again which is high on the scale of unfortunate because while my running progress has been PAINFULLY SLOW, progress is progress and I am doing better now than I was a few months ago. While being sliced and diced is never an ideal activity, I have to admit how insanely fortunate I am. I have great medical insurance. I have an employer that won't fire me for needing 4 weeks off (they won't give me short term disability or FMLA... but they'll gladly let me use my vacation time or take an unpaid leave...) but the take home point is that I will have a JOB to go back to, for which I'm insanely grateful. I don't have kids or anybody that is dependent upon me for their daily care. I am not in school or anything that will take a hit from my insanely long recovery period. I will miss coaching and that does bum me out. But I think I'll be able to get to it quickly so long as I don't go chasing any stray balls or jump in a scrimmage.. hmm.
I'm also grateful for my family and the handful of friends I've got up here that are willing to jump and help out in whatever way they can. I'm seriously blessed. So while I'll admit being scared spitless for all this to go down, I totally recognize that I'm not doing it alone and there are some solid people who will walk beside me. Very very very grateful.
Shoutout to my parents who heard the news and dropped everything in their ridiculously busy lives to make plans to be here the day of and several days after I'm cut. They're kind of rockstar parents, but keep it quiet. I don't want them getting a big head. :)

DAYS!

Guess who got a straight days position?!? Ding ding!! I did! I am on my knees with gratefulness that it has FINALLY happened. I really thought it might never come! I'd be lying if I denied looking up jobs elsewhere with day positions immediately available. I never actually considered quitting, but definitely toyed with the idea during those painful 2am-5:30am stretches (let's be serious 5:30am on isn't exactly a parade either..).
Anyway, I have no idea when I'll actually start the 'straight days' part of it all, but to know it's coming is exactly the boost I needed to get me through nights. I have a bad feeling in my gut that straight days won't start until after the holidays. I go back to rotating days at the end of October, then back to nights mid December. I feel like I'll have to do that last rotation of nights before I can embrace daytime with a permanence I've longed for since I started working almost two and a half years ago. Hallelujah! (that's the hardest word in the world to remember how to spell).

A Series of Unfortunate Events

This week has been something else.

1) Sunday evening I went to plug in my phone so it could charge overnight. I was perplexed when it wouldn't charge. After trying several times in several different outlets, walking away and coming back to it five minutes later, and silently cursing at the darn thing, I finally surrendered and resolved to taking it to the Verizon store the next day. I walked there early Monday afternoon, as it was gorgeous weather and just over a mile away. The biggest question I wanted answered was 'is it my phone or the charger?' Go figure it was my phone. The charger port was broken. Of course my "best" option would be to upgrade and start a new 2 year contract. I said "No thank you," because my family who has so graciously kept me on the family plan is not feeling the upgrade and renewal vibe quite yet. That means I got to just buy a new (read: refurbished) phone. The cheapest option? A Motorola something for $90. Ouch. But I had no option. My current phone had two battery bars and no way of re-charging it. I signed my hard earned greenbacks away and looked forward to my new (to me) phone's arrival via FedEx the next day.

2) Tuesday morning my phone was DEAD. Not an ounce of life to it. I was kind of excited to not be always checking my phone and wondering if that soft buzz I heard was a text message or my mind playing tricks on me. I've been (assistant) coaching this high school team and I love it. This week the practices have been on the south side of the city, down by Boeing Field. The two JV coaches and I live fairly close to each other on the north side of the city so we carpooled. Tuesday, I drove to our carpool meet up point, parked, and left with the other coaches. We got back a good three to three and a half hours later and I walked to my car-- quickly as it was raining and it had been for the past three hours-- only to find that my car was not where I left it. WTF. I walked up and down the street a few times thinking "Open your eyes, Kristin, it HAS to be here!" Nay. No matter how much I wished it to reappear, my car was very much gone. Did I get towed?! Is it STOLEN?! NOW WHAT?!?! I felt the lump rising in my throat as panic set in. As if my missing automobile wasn't enough, I remembered my phone was dead. At times like these I call my dad because he knows what to do in most situations... or I call my mom who can somehow interpret my incomprehensible sobs in times of great turmoil and strife. I also considered calling Mr. Wonderful who lives in that neighborhood (but of course who was at work in Bellevue..) to see if he could piece together where in God's green earth my car might have wandered off to. No. None of those were possible. I was 3.5 miles from home so, I started walking. In hindsight, the walk was good because I had a lot of adrenaline and negative energy that needed to be released and the long walk helped. I got home maybe an hour later and was drenched, hungry, pissed off and defeated. I found Mr. Wonderful on Facebook chat and he told me I should call the police. I thought it sounded dramatic... that's for like car wrecks and robberies and stuff. He insisted-- I'd essentially been robbed of my car. There is a pay phone at the "BEER WINE" store across the street from my apartment. I somberly walked over with my laundry quarters and the small amount of dignity I had left and tried calling people. I tried calling my dad first but that damned payphone robbed me blind. What's worse is that I kept feeding it quarters thinking "This time it will work! It just needs warming up!" Seriously-- ALL of my laundry quarters-- gone. I called 9-1-1 and that was only successful because it's a free call. Lame. I told them all my information and the woman said, "Ma'am your car has been impounded." I was silent. (truthfully I was thinking 'what?! they took it to a junk yard?!' and then I remembered impounded=towed, not demolished.) I didn't know whether to be excited or pissed off. I was glad that it was (hopefully) intact somewhere, not being stripped down by hooligans then lit on fire. But I was so mad because someone towed my car for no reason. The 9-1-1 operator must have been reading my mind because she said "There is a note here that says 'driveway,' so that means it was parked too close to a driveway." "Really?! That's... crazy." I really try to not unleash my fury on the poor souls that answer phones because they're usually not directly involved with what ever caused my wrath. She told me the phone number of the towing place, I thanked her for her help (maybe half heartedly) and moped back to my apartment.
The whole morning I'd been wondering about my phone getting delivered that day. The nature of my apartment makes it impossible to get packages that require a signature (there's no front door buzzer... FedEx doesn't have keys to the front door.. it's ridiculous). I used Skype to call FedEx and ask "where is my package?" They said that it would be delivered by 3pm (at the time it was 2:30). I was pleasantly surprised that delivery hadn't been attempted yet and that it was a short wait period. I camped out at the front door and right at 3, the FedEx lady came. I could have hugged her. I needed to hug SOMEONE. I didn't though-- don't worry. I ran back to my apartment, eventually got the new phone (which btw is short and stout and ugly... not a big fan...) activated and started calling people.

a) Towing place: I learned it would cost me $170.22 to get my car back if I picked it up before midnight, and that they were open 24 hours a day and that they were kind of far away from where I live. Boo.
b) My dad: mostly to vent.

Well... I guess that's all the people I called. I talked to Mr. Wonderful online and he offered to take me to the towing place later. We had plans to have dinner with people in our small group at church and I was supposed to make a salad to take. After the day I had, I was so unmotivated to hoof it to the store in the rain to spend money I DON'T HAVE to make a salad. So I didn't. I laid down in my bed and I pouted. Not long after my pity party started, he showed up ready to go to dinner and I still was in sweat pants without any makeup or anything. He was so nice regardless of my ridiculous nature! I found a winner, folks. He talked me almost all the way out of my funk and we went to the store then dinner. Dinner was so great and exactly the distraction I needed. I had a great time and am so excited for my very slow growing social circle.

After dinner we drove to the towing place and I forked over the $170.22. While waiting I saw a sign on the wall about paying tickets. Man, that'd suck to get a ticket AND get towed! When the lady was giving my my paperwork she said (sympathetically, not mean) "And just to add insult to injury here is your ticket and information on contesting it." I could have thrown up. SERIOUSLY?! Speechless. I left, too exhausted to be actively mad anymore. I haven't looked at that paperwork since.. I probably should.

Anyway-- it was kind of a crappy day due to getting towed and being phone-less. However, I am really grateful for the people I've found here that are so quick to help and be supportive. It's actually quite exciting. The first six-ish months that I lived here were pretty lonely, and while I would hardly call myself a social butterfly, it's nice to have people that I know and who are enthusiastic to help when I need it.

It's only Thursday. I work Friday through Sunday and go back to nights on Tuesday. Pray for me, friends. As my attitude about my social life gets better and better, I've had a harder time being excited about work. Several factors play into that, but still. Night shift will not help anything at all.

And just so you know, parking within five feet of a driveway is apparently illegal in Seattle. For the record, I think that's the most BOGUS law ever-- five feet is almost a whole parking spot. Dislike. Major.

Puke

*I recently flew to Chicago to attend and participate in the Alumni soccer game. Of course it was thunder storming as my plane from Sea-Tac to O'Hare was ready to land. I am not a big fan of storms at all to begin with, but whilst in an aircraft at 36,000 feet in the air, fear takes on a whole new meaning. The storms created turbulence like I'd never experienced it. At one point my seat dropped out from under me! My knuckles were white as they gripped the seat and beads of sweat formed on my forehead. I was sooo nauseous, but that's not entirely uncommon when I'm on a landing aircraft so I didn't think too much of it. As we bounced along for what seemed like hours but in actuality may have been ten-ish minutes, I couldn't help but laugh. I felt like a crazy person-- when crying is more appropriate, I was giggling. Wtf?? It was definitely a nervous laugh as I looked around at my fellow fliers thinking So these are the clowns I'm going down with? We continued our eternal descent and I was sure my life was about to end. I contemplated getting my phone out and calling my family and friends to say 'It's been real...' but before I could reach for it, I was PUKING. What?! I always get nauseous but I never actually puke!! It caught me so off guard! I didn't even have time to grab the little vomit bag! Nope-- right into the aisle went my breakfast and lame little lunch. Needless to say I was the most popular on that plane by the time we got off. I'll be grateful that I was in an aisle seat and not a window or (shudder) middle seat! Oh, it was just mortifying. And the turbulence was so bad that the flight attendants couldn't do anything about it until we landed and I was forbidden from excusing myself to the little plane bathroom! Seriously?! Was this happening to me?! Of course it was, this is how my life goes. All in a day.

*Despite the less than pleasant plane landing, I had so much fun in Chicago. Much better than I expected, which is always nice. Going back really assured me that I made the right decision in moving to Seattle. Now I just have to convince everyone there that is so much fun to move here with me. Honestly, I can do without the city (the whole thing smells like sewer and bus exhaust!)-- it's the people that I miss. It was so awesome how we just picked up right where we left off-- no awkwardness or weird vibes. I just can't get over how FUN it was, and I am so glad I dropped the money for the plane ticket out there.

*I started coaching here! I missed the first two days of preseason due to the aforementioned Chicago trip (totally worth it). It's a private high school downtown and I'm the assistant coach for the varsity team. I was sick to my stomach the first morning with nerves, and even into the practice... but by the end of the two hours I was loving it! Honestly when I got there I was like I should just leave and email them that I quit... I can't do this. This is so uncomfortable. My social anxieties are more and more annoying lately, but I am glad that I rarely let them prevent me from embracing new opportunities. I have like thirty new names to learn and personalities that go along with them. I'm so excited to be coaching again-- I love it.

*Back to work today after a good stretch of time off. I feel like I work an insane amount, then am off an insane amount. I appreciate the balance, but the extremes are starting to wear me down. Now that summer is coming to an end, I would be content with spreading my shifts out more uniformly over the week rather than packing them all in to try and get as many days off in a row as possible. We'll see. I go back to nights on September 5th which will make me a super pleasant person to be around. But a wise birdy (aka my boss) told me that two day positions are about to be posted. Here's to hoping that one of the two people in front of me for seniority forgets they want days or just doesn't see the opening in time...

A Picture Post

Summer 2010 has been great!

She moved in for a few weeks and we had so much fun.

I met him. :)

I went hiking to this place (Wallace Falls)-- twice in one week. It is STUNNING.

I went to my first Mariner's game...

with my new roomie!

My sister visited and we had fun! This is epic progress..

I took a spontaneous trip home to see family... including Marco..

and to eat a lot of cherries, let's be serious. Worms shmerms...

We went flying and I came this close to tossing my cookies...

Made a trip to Pacific City-- my favorite place ever.

Oh, he came too. :)

My BFF came up to Seattle for several days and we had lots of fun. I miss her SO MUCH when she's in Europe.


I went kayaking in the Sound during my spontaneous day trip to Orcas Island...

And had so much fun there. It must have been the great company.


:)

It's hard to believe summer is nearly over. I seriously feel like it JUST started. I'm finally kinda tan.. it's been warm for like 4 days in a row..I haven't worn jeans in... a while-- we just achived summer-dome, and we're nearing the end of JULY?! Crazy crazy. I guess I'll just have to squeeze that much more out of August then. Can't wait!

My First Pedicure

My best friend, Bri, is in the United States, visiting for a month. For the past two years she has been a second grade teacher at an international school in GERMANY, and is eagerly awaiting the start of her third year. She came up to Seattle on Thursday last week and it has been so great getting to visit with her! We've spent so much time with our other good friend from high school who recently moved here. I think it's really awesome how we can just pick up right where we left off. It doesn't matter that we all went to different colleges and mainly talked/visited during winter and summer breaks... it doesn't matter that we haven't lived in close proximity to each other SINCE graduating from high school. I am so grateful for both of them. I haven't had so many belly laughs in a long time.
Yesterday, Bri and I decided to get pedicures. I had been thinking about getting one for a while, as my commitment to wear flip flops after the first sunny day of the year has made me painfully aware of my less than beautiful feet. I have never had a pedicure before. I remember in high school, girls frequently got them, before dances especially. Our soccer coaches always told us not to get them though because they take away your callouses during said pedicure which would inevitably lead to painful blisters the next time you put your cleats on. I've never needed a pedicure... the whole idea does seem kind of ludicrous to me... sitting up on a giant massage chair throne while someone else pours over my feet? Weird.
Walking into the shop yesterday, I was nervous! I don't exactly love it when strangers touch me.. and here I was, preparing to PAY a stranger to touch my FEET of all places. I may or may not be insanely ticklish... but dove in to the experience with almost genuine enthusiasm regardless. I chose my nail polish color-- neon green. Might as well have fun with it, right? 99% of my toenail polish color choices in life have been some shade of red. Lets spice it up. Timidly, I walked to to the chair where my pedicure-ist (???), Ali waited patiently. I sat down and she showed me the massage chair (which I had no idea was there-- it was great!) and put my feet in the scalding hot water. As I sat down and got situated, I noticed Ali eyeing my feet. Then I noticed that she put gloves on-- which is great, I'd totally don gloves if I were touching people's feet all day too! Buuuut then I noticed she was the ONLY pedicure-ist of four that decided gloves were necessary. I know my feet are gross-- thick callouses, unkempt toenails, and cuticles to cry about... but are they so bad that she thought "Damn, better glove up for this one!"??? Maybe I should have pursued the sport of pedicure earlier in life.. She got started, trimming my toenails and doing something to the cuticles. They have so many tools! I was doing well with the tickle factor for a while; I was quite impressed with myself. I noticed the woman sitting next to me (not Bri) who had arrived a little earlier than we had. They were doing something to her feet that involved what I want to say was a pumice stone.. they took it and rubbed it all over the bottom of her feet. Ohhh snap, if they do that to me I will die. Maybe she's getting a different kind of pedicure, and they won't do that to me.. That theory was thwarted and my anxiety grew as I saw them start doing it to Bri's feet. Maybe minutes later I saw Ali whip out the pumice thing. Gulp. I tried to look away. I tried deep breathing. I tried to go to my calm/happy place. Nothing. The second she rubbed that thing on the bottom of my foot, my whole body lurched and I was sent into fits of giggles and laughter. I twisted and squirmed and tried (failed miserably) to contain myself. White knuckled, I gripped the chair in sincere efforts to not KICK poor Ali in the FACE. She kept going despite my thrashing... heads turned in the salon-- Who the hell gets a pedicure when they're so ticklish?! After what seemed like hours, but in reality was a few short minutes, Ali looked up at me and said in her awesome accent "Ticklish?" I told her that yes indeed I was, and apologized profusely. She continued to scrub down the callouses I have worked so hard to build... then she moved to the next foot. That whole scene... all over again. Tickling is crazy to me. It is like a form of torture, but instead of crying, you are laughing. It is such a weird place because you're like.. happy, you're laughing uncontrollably, but you will do anything to make the tickling stop. Including kicking your pedicure-ist in the face. Don't worry, I didn't kick Ali, but still. I was filled with relief when she was done with that part. On the second foot she asked "Ticklish?" again. I thought YES LADY I AM TICKLISH! I AM ALSO CONTENT WITH MY CALLOUSES. LET'S MOVE ON. But all I could spit out was an awkward head not and a snort as she went to town on the bottom of my foot.
The other shocking part of a pedicure is that they like massage your legs. Again, touch from strangers is something I discourage enthusiastically. So when Ali started rubbing stuff on my pudgy lower legs, my eyes bugged out and the air shot out of my lungs. What in tarnation was she doing?! I wanted my toe nails tended to and painted-- that's it! Here she goes exfoliating, massaging, lotioning... I shudder at the thought. AND I hadn't shaved my legs in a day or two, so I'm sure she was cringing as she rubbed my legs.. shoot her hands were probably bleeding. Mortifying.
She finally painted my toes. The green looks less cool than I thought it would, but it's still something new and fun and something I wouldn't have done on my own. Bri and I sat with our toes drying for a good half hour and were on our way. A pedicure is insanely expensive.. the cheapest we found was this place that charged $27 bones. If you think about it, it's a great business for them, but to me it seems asinine to pay someone for torture and toe polish. And of course there's a spot on the receipt for a tip. Don't get me started on tipping. (Don't get me wrong either-- I tip and I think I am a generous tipper-- the IDEA of tipping really irritates me). Despite the price, it was a fun activity with my best friend who is here for such a short time. And even though my toenails are alien green, I feel less ashamed showing my feet in public now. I can't say that I'll be getting another pedicure soon (..or ever..) but, this one was fun, quite the experience.

Good Things

...that's all.. just good things. Really good things. :)

Nothing Exciting

I can hardly believe it is already the middle of July. Where in the world has time gone?! Maybe it's because summer weather JUST arrived. And it arrived in quite a dramatic fashion, jumping from 50 degrees to high 90s. I refuse to complain about warm weather, but as much as I dislike extreme cold, extreme heat isn't so much my favorite either. I am learning that I have a Goldie Locks Complex-- not too hot, not too cold..
Regardless of the weather on the 4th of July (rainy and in the 50s), it was by far my favorite Independence Day... ever. Last year for the 4th I was in Chicago and it was nice weather- by the time it was dark, I'd say it was in the high 70s and not super humid so some friends and I went to the top of a parking garage and since it's SO FLAT in the Midwest, we watched fireworks
all around the city from the high view point. It was pretty awesome. This year, we went to a small neighborhood park that overlooks Gasworks Park where the whole city of Seattle seems to flock to watch the fireworks set off over Lake Union (?? or some body of water... there are so many!). They were beautiful and the park was the perfect spot to watch from. I was scheduled to work that night, but signed up for a no-pay, so I ended up getting to be on call for the first 4 hours of my shift, then had to go in at 11pm. While I wish I could have just been off all together, it was SO GREAT to be able to watch fireworks and enjoy the end of the holiday. Totally worth missing the 4 hours of holiday pay.
I've been so eagerly awaiting summer for the past.. seven months, now it's here I almost don't know what to do with myself. I've been working a ton lately.. it seems like all the mandatory education and competency days happen in the summer, and during my several-days-in-a-row OFF stretches. Oh well. Nights are still killing me, but I am sincerely working on my attitude. I didn't get the most recent day position posted, and I was pretty devastated, I won't lie. I may have shed a tear or two over that one.. I was SURE I'd get it! However, my manager informed me (at 6:57am.. after working all night) that I was third in line for the next available day spot. At the time, I was holding and feeding a week old baby for one of my co-workers.. and it was good that I was, otherwise I would have lost my marbles! It took every ounce of my strength and some divine intervention to not have a meltdown right there at the nurses station! Obviously Someone still wants me on nights, so I might as well make the best of it until I can get on days. I just hope the days part happens soon.
I've been sick for the past few days. I'm at the lose-your-voice stage right now... it's really attractive sounding like a trach'd smoker.
Hmm in other news.. I am a soccer coach! A good friend clued me in on an open position to be an assistant coach for a high school varsity women's team. I applied, interviewed and got it! I'm so excited.. it starts in August and I can't wait to have a structured activity again! I'm glad it will be for an assistant coach so I can get my bearings a little bit and not go into high panic if my work schedule conflicts once in a while. Can't wait! AND-- they gave me a jacket, a hoodie, and a long sleeved thermal!
I am looking forward to my trip to Chicago at the end of August for the Alumni game at North Park. We'd better win... haha. It will be so good to see my friends in that city.. both from North Park and my old job. I miss them all quite a bit! While the social scene has picked up quite a bit here in the past month or so, I still remember my Windy City friends fondly and it will be great reuniting.
My apartment has taken a hit from me not being here and then from me being too sick to clean anything.. so I'm off to try and organize the mess... hahaha I love living alone.

gRaTeFuL

Things I Have Been Grateful for This Week:

*Sunflowers.
*Genuinely kind, funny, and compassionate coworkers.
*New friends and old friends having a great time in a new city that involved several belly laughs.
*Sun-- even if there is still a chill in the air, it's been sunny.
*Running farther this week than I have in a while.


I am ridiculously blessed and continually surprised at how much I find to gripe about. I've got it pretty good...really good... despite the few things I wish were different. They pale (to the point of translucence) in comparison to the plights of others.

"It's taken care of."

On call shifts are #2 on my list of things I seriously dislike, second only to night shift. I got called in on my call shift last night... only to FLOAT to another floor. It took all of my strength and energy (which was very little considering the time of day-- 11pm) to prevent myself from bursting into tears. My distraught-ness was potentiated by the knowledge that I have to work the next three nights in a row anyway. So, this is my first four in a row on nights stretch, and I'm pretty sure that it will be what kills me. =(

They did just post a day position and I cannot even come close to articulating how essential to my sanity getting that spot is. I am losing my marbles-- they're all pretty much gone.. and this is just the START of my second week on nights.

(I genuinely love my job. And I am genuinely grateful for employment-- especially doing a job that fascinates me and challenges me and is something I feel good and excited about doing. I am very very very fortunate in that realm, and I fully recognize it).

My sister came up last weekend to visit. We had a grand old time. Actually far better than I expected. Saturday night we decided to go out to dinner to a fondue restaurant in Bellevue. She drove up that day and I had slept half the day after working Friday night, so we were both looking slightly scrubby. We went anyway with a 'who cares' attitude. We were smart enough to call and see what the parking situation would be like, but failed to think about making a reservation. It didn't cross my mind as I don't go to places where you need a reservation.. too hoity toity for me and chances are I can't afford it. So we hoof'd it over to Bellevue, and after a lap or two around the block, finally found the mysterious parking garage that had maybe 14 parking spots. Lame! But after circling the place several times, found a spot.
So we walk into the restaurant and we were both really hungry. Nicole walked in first and the host asked "What can I help you with?" This perplexed us. Usually they ask 'How many in your party?' Nicole later put it best: "What do you mean 'what can I help you with?' You can show me my table!" But instead of speaking she just looked at him awkwardly. So I walk in right behind her and without a second thought I say "Two please," and just in case he was hard of hearing or completely inept, I held up two fingers to really drive the point home. "Do you have a reservation?" he inquired. "...Nooope." He sighed and said that it would be a 30 to 45 minute wait. I was too hungry to search for another restaurant (and we brought a coupon for this place!) so we decided to wait it out in the bar.
We shuffled over to the overflow bar area where the bar tender informed us (kindly, not mean) that reservations are a good idea when one dines at this establishment. We were apparently lucky since it was Father's Day weekend, they were a little slow and we only had to wait 30-45 minutes. We shrugged our shoulders and he talked us into an appetizer which neither of us normally orders, but we were so hungry we decided to go for it. It was really good actually-- pesto and brie cheese and they brought crackers, grapes, apples and ...something else to spread it on. I was hesitant but it was delicious. 45 minutes later our table was ready and we cashed out at the bar-- Nicole threw her plastic down before I could, and so I said "okay, I'll pay for dinner then." I hate asking them to split the check. We hoof'd to our table and embraced the menu that offered POTS of melted cheese... and goodies to dunk in it. Seriously, whoever came up with fondue is a genius and should be publicly recognized as so.
This is where it gets ridiculous.
Our waiter (name NOT known.. young looking ..21 or 22 we decided, but cute) came when we were done looking at the menu. I (for no reason) had my menu open to the ridiculously long wine list (it was seriously like four pages of the menu) because we'd been commenting on how insanely expensive the wine was. So Waiter comes up and asks "Would you like a bottle of wine?" I said "..nope," and he gestured to the fact that it was open and I laughed shut it immediately. Then Nicole told him how it was too expensive for us. Classy. He crouched down and was super chatty in the I want a good tip so I'm going to try to befriend you in three minutes way.
Waiter: "What are you ladies up to tonight?"
Me: "She's in town visiting..."
Waiter: "No way, where from?"
Nicole: "Salem, Oregon..."
Waiter: "No way, I grew up in Klamath (?) and went to school at OSU!"
Us: "Awesome."
Waiter: "What else are you going to do tonight?"
-Nicole and I looked at each other and shrugged
Me: "...this is kinda it... I have a coupon!" THROWS coupon in his direction
Waiter: "WHAAAT? You're not taking her out on the town?"
Me: "...um... well... I'm still kinda newer to the area, I don't really know what to show her. Where do you think I should take her?"
Waiter: "oooh hmm.. there's a bowling alley in Capitol Hill that's really cool... wait-- you guys are 21 right???"
Us: fits of laughter
Nicole: "Oh, bless your little heart... yes we're over 21."
Waiter: "That's a cool place, I'm newer to the area, too so I'm trying to think of places.. there are a ton of bars that are good.."
Nicole: eye roll in my direction to which waiter picks up on and gives a confused look
Me: "... yea, the bar scene isn't really my favorite."
Waiter: "oh, do you drink at ALL?"
Me: "I don't NOT drink."
Waiter: "hmmm I'm trying to think of places. I'm not a big drinker, either..."
HE FINALLY DECIDED TO TAKE OUR ORDER

Not long after our melted cheese and delicious dippers (minus the moldy apple) came out and he put on a little show of mixing and melting the queso. He checked in frequently to make sure our dining experience was nothing short of delightful. The coupon I'd brought (brought'n.. hahahaha) was for a free dessert, so he knew to bring the dessert menu. We quickly decided and he brought it out within a few minutes. As he laid out all the insanely delicious things to dip in warm silky milk chocolate, he said "Enjoy, ladies. And it's all taken care of. The cheese, the chocolate.. it's taken care of." And he tossed the coupon back in my direction. Nicole and I were in a cheese coma and getting ready to embrace chocolate euphoria on top of it, so we were just like "Okay thanks..." But like two seconds after he walked away our brows simultaneously furrowed. "It's taken care of?" WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!
We spent the next ... twenty minutes trying to figure out what he was talking about as we embraced the chocolate-y goodness.

"Nicole, you need to CLARIFY what he means!" I hissed. She of course refused to do anything so logical. She insisted that means that we didn't have to pay for our meal and I was so confused as to WHY. (still am). We weren't heinous looking, but we weren't drop-dead-give-them-their-meal-free-gorgeous either.. what on EARTH made someone give us a free meal? Maybe between complaining about the pricey wine and chucking my coupon at him, Waiter decided to do his good deed for the day... I just don't know! So we were in quite the quirky mood by this point-- I'm pretty sure they spiked the chocolate, we couldn't stop giggling. It was SO MUCH FUN-- my sister and I fight far too much, and it was insanely refreshing to laugh with her for a whole night.

As we finished the chocolate fondue-- no dipper left behind, Waiter brings out slightly smaller pots of the dark chocolate and white chocolate fondue with extra dippers. Our eyes got huge as he said "And I brought you some extra goodies too!" I didn't know whether to laugh or cry-- I was SO FULL. But what sensible woman says "No thank you" to a pot full of chocolate with strawberries begging to be dunked?! So we went at it. We still didn't know what to do about "It's taken care of." Waiter kept checking in more and more frequently to see what he could get us.

As we lost steam on the second round of dessert, he came by and asked how it was blah blah blah and reiterated: "And it's alllllllllllll taken care of, you guys are set." I said "...really?" And he said "Yes, absolutely. It's taken care of." So we gave due thanks and he walked away. PERPLEXED. NAUSEOUS. STUPID HAPPY. So my genius sister convinced me (I blame drunkeness by chocolate) to leave my phone number for our generous Waiter and we left him a hefty tip. Shoot, if we were getting out of what would have been a very pricey meal, the least we could do was tip appropriately. I figured one of three things could happen:
1) Nothing at all.
2) He would call or text me and there are worse thing in the world than attractive young men calling me.
3) We totally misinterpreted what "It's taken care of" means, we walked away without paying AND they had my phone number to give to the police.

My new motto is 'without risk there's no reward,' so I made Nicole be the lookout as I scribbled my digits on a scrap piece of paper (he NEVER brought us a check!) and as I laid it on the table I insisted we leave IMMEDIATELY. The only thing more embarrassing than leaving your phone number in a public place is being caught by whoever you're leaving it for. So we scampered out like school children and burst into laughter as soon as we got out the door. We waddled to the car, decided to go bowling on a different day and made it back to my apartment without tossing our delicious fondue cookies.

It was a fun weekend and I'm glad she came up. No word from Waiter yet, but no word from the police, either. Fine by me.

SERIOUSLY: case in point.

Blinking Bug Bites

**EDIT** Shout out to David-- who introduced me to Hyperbole and a Half. I swear this person is me. When reading her posts I think "omg-- that's ME." it's uncanny.. check it out.

It is a shame that posting work-related stories on here is frowned upon.
Night shift and my ability to cope with it inevitably create situations that to the outside audience would undoubtedly be humorous.

That's all I have to say about that. Well, actually not-- I have a lot more, but will bite my tongue (...fingers...?)

I will say this:

-I have 24 bug bites. "What in the world from?" you might ask. From playing a riveting game of disc golf (aka Frisbee golf, frolf, etc). Last Sunday it was so nice out, so a friend and some friends of a friend went down by SeaTac to an 18 basket disc golf course. (Confession: I had no idea such courses existed). It took SEVERAL (read: more than five) hours to complete the course due to me not knowing how to efficiently or effectively throw a disc (don't dare call it a Frisbee..) to save my life. I was grateful for the other disc golf newbie who at the beginning shared the burden of 'that girl' who is really bad. But alas, it was her second time playing and she started to catch on about 6 baskets in. For the remaining twelve, I was the reason that each basket took a RIDICULOUS amount of time. My fellow disc golfers were pretty nice about it, though.. offering tips or showing me different ways to throw. For the record, before agreeing to go I said "I'm a kicker, not a thrower. I don't want to be a wet blanket, I've NEVER played before, and you guys are super good.." But the invitation to play stood, and I had no other plans for the sunny Sunday. So while I felt bad, I gave fair warning to at least one person in the party. ANYWAY-- those bug bites itch with FURY. Also, they blink like Christmas lights. They go from pink to white to pink to white to pink to white with my pulse. It's quite a freak show let me tell you. I am grateful that the majority of them are on my legs where my scrubs cover them for work. Wouldn't that be the treat-- the night shift nurse with blinking bug bites slinking into your room at 4am to take your vital signs. Geez louise.

-One of my good friends from high school is currently staying with me while she looks for an apartment in Seattle. She's moving here and it is SO EXCITING. I have really enjoyed having her company around and am genuinely looking forward to having an old friend here!

-I feel like I have more to say but that will have to be all for now. I need to try to squeeze a run in (no matter how half hearted it may be) before working tonight. ...night-shift is a swear word to me. But you all know how I feel about it so I will withhold my ranting for the time being.

Night Shift Blues

I am getting ready for my last day shift for six weeks. It is a tragic tragic tragic time.

I would rather have gloomy weather forever than work night shift.
I would rather eat this skin off a raw onion every day for breakfast than work night shift.
I would rather clip the toenails of a 90 year old man with a gnarly foot fungus than work night shift.
I would rather shave my head and eat all my hair than work night shift.

..Give me straight days or give me death.

I like interacting with my patients and their families. While the challenge of being a 'silent ninja' is slightly entertaining for a while, it is not enough to make night shift worth it. Yea, there are fun coworkers on night shift, but I am too beside myself due to the time of day to enjoy any of them. It is far from ideal.

Needless to say I haven't gotten any of the day shift positions I've applied for. It has been a great run on days. I made two patients my primaries and I love 'em. And I've learned SO MUCH on days-- it's crazy. Being involved in rounds makes a world of difference. Waaah, I'm really going to miss the chaos.

Please knock

My gym. Ugh.

I frequent an express version of my gym. Meaning it has less equipment and classes, no locker rooms and that, despite its name, it isn't actually open 24 hours a day. I am not sure how much longer I can grin and bear it. But, I don't know what other options are practical, especially in the financial department.
So this morning I went to the gym. I went to use the restroom before I got going (a last ditch procrastination effort...). There are four individual bathrooms in one hallway. I appreciate the individual part-- I've never been a fan of stalls. The doors have locks on them which is really good because instead of knocking on a closed door, people just wail on the handle and jiggle it furiously until they piece together that that particular bathroom is occupied.
I have a nervous bladder. If I know someone can hear me pee, I freeze up no matter how badly I have to go. This condition has taken on a new twist while at the gym. I am so terrified of two situations:
1) I forget to lock the door
2) The handle breaks (which judging by how aggressively some patrons open doors is bound to happen sooner than later).
So now, even though no one can hear me go, I get stage fright. I know that the second I let loose, some meat head is going to come barging through the door and see me in my half naked squatting glory (I'm a hover-er in public places... especially the gym, they're bad at cleaning). The anxiety of using the bathrooms at this place is enough to give one's heart a cardio workout without boarding a treadmill or bouncing along on an elliptical.
What happened to good old fashioned knocking?! This is how I approach the bathrooms:
1) Soft knock
2) If no answer, try the handle; if answer, move on.
It's really one of the simplest two step processes EVER. SERIOUSLY PEOPLE.

Youth on Age

Hiking. It is something I have been longing to do for the past ...six ish years. As soon as I left the west (best) coast after high school, I came to appreciate the nature it holds, and started hating myself for not taking advantage of it for the 18 years I lived here before venturing off into the flat wasteland known as the Midwest.
A couple of weeks ago the weather was actually awesome. I googled 'free seattle hikes' and found the Issaquah Alps Trail Club. I saw "free guided hikes" and was floored-- I would love to go for a hike by myself, but I don't know any trails and I refuse to be that clown on the news who is lost for 12 days after hiking in a new place all alone. The fact that these people would guide me on a hike-- for FREE-- was very exciting.

I roped in a friend (pictured above) from college who was in Seattle, home on summer break before heading to Alaska for the summer. I packed all the things the website said were required-- even though it was mid 70s without a cloud in the sky, I put a garbage bag in my pack to act as 'rain gear.' I was so nervous they would say "you can't go" if I didn't have everything on the list. The hike we chose was described as follows: "Echo Mountain- interesting plants and views of Mt. Rainier, 5 miles, 600' gain." It was estimated to take 4 hours and have 'some climbing/difficulty.' So I was slightly nervous-- What if I'm too out of shape? What if I hold the group back? I don't want to be that kid. I resolved to try it anyway and hope at least one person was in worse shape than me. After much planning and packing, I went to bed the night before with three alarms set, so as to not oversleep.
I picked up my friend on the way, and then we got there more than an hour early. I have a serious getting-there-early problem. We found a Starbucks to pass the time-- all the while my anxiety grew. People in Seattle are kinda serious about their hiking. I've only met the kind that climb real mountains-- with ice picks and stuff. They're the crazy people who have to train for their climbs because the climbs are so insane. They're the unfortunate ones who fall in the ice crevasses and survive for days drinking their own urine and chewing the buttons of their coat. Who am I to be hiking with them? I'm just a pudgy girl escaping from the Midwest, they're going to laugh me back to Chicago. WHAT AM I THINKING?!?!? Had I been alone, I probably would have gone home and wallowed in self pity-- but I wasn't. I dragged my friend out of bed at an ungodly hour, so I had to follow through. So we left Starbucks (early of course) and arrived at the 'club house.' We got out of the car and waited. We were the first ones there. I was nervous that we were at the wrong spot or that we missed the group (which was impossible, we were still like ten minutes early). We saw another lady looking at a sign by the building and I asked her if she was there for the hike. She said yes, and I was relieved that we were in the right spot. Then I really saw her. She was in her 50s (ish?), wearing long pants-- normal pants... like khaki pants... had a heavier coat on with big boots, a hat and sunglasses. My friend and I were in shorts and at-shirts with running shoes. Hmm, she must be in good shape to go on this hike at her age. More people started trickling in and an overwhelming theme emerged: old. Everybody there was a grandparent. WHAT? This is a senior citizen event! Truthfully, I was relieved.. if these people could handle this hike, then surely I could too! I'd better be able to. An older gentleman who was somewhat in charge came and told my friend and I that our shoes would be okay for this hike, but if we planned to do more hikes with them in the future, we needed hiking boots due to the slippery nature of the trails. I suppose its a valid point, but I couldn't help thinking if these arthritic clowns can handle the slippery trails, I think I'll be fine in my running shoes thank you very much. So we congregated when Betty (pictured below), our leader (age... 70? I'm not kidding) arrived. She gave some shotty directions to the trail head (which, btw, I still don't understand why we didn't just meet there... as it was like a 30 minute drive from the clubhouse..) So we get there and Betty starts talking. She starts talking a little bit about the area. I am surprised at how knowledgeable she is about the hike and how involved she is in the preservation efforts and what not. Totally a sharp 70 year old lady-- and I can only hope that I am that spry when I age. She warns us to stay together as people have gotten lost before, but "Paul finally made it home..." What?! I had visions of some poor elderly man wandering through the forest for days on end and then finally emerging out of the forest back at the trail head only to see that his group had deserted him and he had to walk all the way home. It was so hard to contain my fits of laughter. Everything anybody said that had any potential of being comical was a MILLION TIMES funnier (is that a word?) because they were so... aged. Don't get me wrong-- I have a ton of respect for the elderly in our society and think they are very wise and have a lot to offer to younger generations. Hooray for elderly! And-- my friend and I stuck out like sore thumbs-- we looked like we were headed to the gym, while everyone else was in pretty normal clothing-- button up shirts and 'slacks,' and ...fanny packs (not that those are normal on ANY level).
Betty also announced that this was a "flower hike." A what??? Apparently we would be stopping to identify different flowers and plants along the way, and not to worry, Betty had her book so we could look up the ones we weren't sure about. A flower hike? What did I get myself into?! I exchanged looks of 'wtf' with my friend and we started hiking. Several of our hike mates whipped out their ski poles to help them along the rugged terrain. We stopped every 7th step or so to identify a new (or the same) flower. The first we saw was Youth on Age (pictured below).

(*Youth on Age)*
How ironic. How fitting for the dynamic of this group. I glanced up to the Heavens and shot a "Really?" prayer up to the Big Guy. So we continued on. Every third flower we saw was Youth on Age. "Oh there's some Youth on Age!" Betty would bellow and it'd pass along the line of hikers.
I was in a state of shock at the whole situation. I'd invested so much energy in being a nervous nellie for this hike. I was convinced I wouldn't make it and would have to borrow someone's inhaler.. or call for a rescue ranger to come escort me down the mountain when I couldn't keep up with the group. But here I was, looking at flowers with other people's grandparents.. and probably great grandparents. I was just ... flabbergasted. How did I not see this coming? But I couldn't have seen it-- that's what happens when you embrace activities you find on Google. It was all I could do to not die laughing the whole way up. Of course I'd land myself in a senior citizen hike-- it's only natural. I really had to keep my sarcasm in check though-- so many doors were flinging open all around me, begging for a wisecrack, but I was sure my comments wouldn't be appreciated. That was probably the hardest part. *(Stopping-- again-- to look at flowers) *
So in about... two hours we made it up the roughly 2 mile 'mountain.' It was beautiful-- I love nature. Trees-- lots of flowers-- sun... it was awesome. I couldn't help but think "this would be awesome to run up," and then I remembered that I can't run to save my life. We made it to the top and had a beautiful view of Mt. Rainier. We stayed up there for about 20 minutes and everyone ate their lunch. My friend and I released all the funny comments we'd been holding back on the way up and prepared for the way down. *(If you look real hard you can see Mt. Rainier...)*
This was the complete opposite of a bad day-- just so unexpected! It was gorgeous weather and the other hikers were very friendly. I met a running enthusiast and we bonded over our knee pain! Ha!
At one point someone asked my friend and me if we had the day off of school and I was like "..no I have the day off of work," and naturally they asked what I do. I hate revealing that I am a nurse in any group environment because I feel like if some medical emergency were to happen, it'd fall on me to fix it. Sure there's the oath I took that already obligates me to do so, but still I hate announcing it. NOT TO MENTION I was hiking with people who are at a prime age for medical issues to explode. Fortunately we made it down the hill without any medical event. However-- they started EATING THE PLANTS! "If it's the one I'm thinking, it should taste like black licorice," Betty rattled. I watched in horror as person after person chomped down on the strange plant trying to figure out what I'd have to tell the 9-1-1 dispatcher when they all were doubled over with abdominal pain unable to hike to their cars to seek medical attention themselves. One guy even ate a mushroom. I figure he was suicidal. * (My new runner friend. I tried to get out of him if he had any grandsons-- no dice.)*

All in all, a great day outside in nature. But also a day that caught me TOTALLY off guard. We finally made it back to our car and I was ready to peel outta there. As I put my car in reverse Betty popped up at my window to make sure we knew how to get back. She scared the living daylights outta me! Seriously-- what a day. "Oh look! Youth on Age!"