“I am not young enough to know everything”

I am so, so fed up with unorganized jerkfaces. I’m scheduled to work every Monday for a class. 12 hours. 7-7. Monday I went, on time, hanging out. We get done with the pre-lunch classes. We go out to eat. We come back, and our educator says there has been a code-cart fiasco at the hospital, and he must run over there to educate everyone on the new carts before someone codes and dies. He asks that we wait on him for two hours. 1-3, we sit around and wait. About 2:30 I’m pissed, because I could be sleeping or something. So he has the audacity to show up at three, and ask us to wait two more hours, or we can go home. SOB. I could have went home at NOON and now I’ve been sitting around waiting on you? I’m going home…. that’s what I told him. So I didn’t get that upset until yesterday. I found out that he, in fact, never did educate anyone on the code carts. We were waiting for some unknown reason that he lied to us about. So now I’m mad that I had to wait, and I’m mad that he lied. Then I get to thinking. Last Monday, he had to leave at 9am because of a babysitting emergency… right. We basically sat around that day from 11-3, waiting on some guidance. If you have 9 people depending on you to be there, BE THERE. Growl. I shouldn’t complain about my job so much. How many girls get to see hot-buns firefighters parade around in their hot-buns uniforms all day? I wish I could take a picture so I could show you the glory of the Phoenix-firefighter-butt-and-abs. I may actually attempt to do so. You will be thankful if you are female or gay, I promise you that.

Here is a picture from their website until I can get some (pictures). Ignore the fanny pack. I know it is not becoming. There are a few not-so-hot ones though. Quite a few. And for you boys… there is a girl or two as well. I recommend any single women to fake injury and meet a firefighter. Although they may be pissed if you do so. They don’t want a faker. So maybe go and jump off of something, or get burned. Or become a nurse, even though we don’t get to talk to them but for about 30 seconds a day while transferring patient from gurney to stretcher. I guess maybe if you went out of your way you may be able to speak to them. I dunno. Maybe I’ll have a single nurse friend give it a try. I’ll report back.

The following is the philosophy of Charles Schultz, the creator of the “Peanuts” comic strip. You don’t have to actually answer the questions. Just read the e-mail straight through, and you’ll get the point.

1. Name the five wealthiest people in the world.

2. Name the last five Heisman trophy winners.

3. Name the last five winners of the Miss America.

4. Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer Prize.

5. Name the last half dozen Academy Award winner for best actor and actress.

6. Name the last decade’s worth of World Series winners.

How did you do?

5. Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.

The lesson: The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones with the most credentials, the most money, or the most awards. They are the ones that care.

After my tubing and subsequent car-burning experience last weekend, I’m still feeling the burn. Right between the girls. For some reason the one part of my body I forgot to sunscreen was the most sensitive part. I burned real bad (real bad), and I am now blistering. Evil Phoenix Sun (again, not basketball. the actual orb in the sky).

It was a good time with Steph and some gangsters (or not) from San Diego. Californians are an interesting breed. Not as laid back as they would like others to think. I think Texans are more relaxed than Californians any day. The more drunk I got, the more my twang got made fun of. I don’t even think I have a twang. All in all: tubing=excellent. concert=fantastic. waffle house=putrid.

Shane and Becca returned from the hole known as Lawton a few days ago. This is why I haven’t blogged. Shane says Lawton is expanding and the city people are making it nicer. I fart in their general direction. We got some hamsters yesterday for the kid. Their names are Stacy and Tracy, and we hope that they are both girls. All they do it poop and spin the wheel. Pretty dumb animals if you ask me, but she thinks they are excellent. On the way home, she said that her hamsters were the start of a new life. You can’t get much newer than being five, but I guess she did.

PS: I’ve just realized that I tremendously despise Regis and Kelly. Regis is too nasal. Kelly is just odd. You know she never has time with her family. She is a machine. An annoying machine. Not as bad as Kathie-Lee, but still horrible. She’s wearing a polka-dot dress, but the polka-dots are in fact hearts, not dots. Sheesh.

Not really. I just thought it would be cool to have a smart sounding title.

Other than eating at Del Taco and enrolling Becca in Kindergarten, I’ve gotten a lot done today. Not by going places, but by being still and forcing myself to analyze my life. Shane has told me many times that I sort of David-Lee-Roth around, not really thinking about anything. My approach to problems has always been one of turn-the-other-way-and-hum-until-it-goes-away. Today I didn’t do that. I thought. For a long time. And I’m still thinking.

I wondered for the first few hours if I really knew myself, and what I wanted in my life. Because I never really thought about things, I figured that I didn’t know. Au Contraire! The reason I Roth around (yes, Roth is now a verb) is because I do know what I want. I know what is right and wrong. I know who I am, and who I hope to become. It’s been a long time since I’ve really thought about it, but it hasn’t changed. That was good to know.

Then I moved on to thinking about success. These people all strive for a position… a title…a place…They worry and brood, always miserable because something happened. Something got in the way… they curse and complain, and they are miserable.  I’ve decided that rather than attempting being successful, I will attempt to just be. I’m doing a pretty good job of it so far. And it’s funny. The more easy going I become, the more happy I am. I feel like I have learned an art most people will never master. Acceptance. Constantly fighting your situation… it just doesn’t work… Accepting the situation and going about your business… now that’s good stuff.

After success, I thought about relationships. It’s so hard to make another person happy. I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why. So I started to research what wise people say about happiness (wisdom is for another day). I determined a few things: a.) people can’t be happy unless they want to be. b.) happiness isn’t something that can be given. It also can’t be taken away. Things can be taken away, but not happiness. c.) Some people wouldn’t know what to do if they were happy, because they enjoy being miserable too much (subconciously). d.) happiness and acceptance are nearly one in the same. When I speak about this, I’m not talking only about the male/female thing, but with friends and family as well. So after all of this, I’ve decided that I’m going to stop trying to make people happy. I can’t. I’m just going to be nice, and honest, and true to myself. That’s all I can do.

Now I’m going to go out and live a little. I’m going to be. I’m not going to change my David Lee Roth ways, because they suit who I want to be in life. Don’t mistake me. I still care. I really care about others, and about their situations. But I’m done trying to save the world from mini-disasters, and things out of my control. I just can’t do it. What a relief it is to accept that fact and go on with my business. It feels good already.

I must make a disclaimer here. I am not philosophical, and I’m not really eloquent with my writings. I’m not trying to be deep or thoughtful, only trying to let you know what happened with my day. I know this writing isn’t exactly poetic. It wasn’t meant to be.

Off to pool-sit. The Phoenix sun is calling (not the basketball team, the actual sun). I leave you with my inspirational quote of the day:

Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.  ~Buddha

I thought Texas had a lot of spanish speaking people. Arizona… wow. I think about 50% of my patients are spanish speaking. I’m learning. I actually asked a patient today what hurt, how long ago it happened, how bad her pain was, and when was the last time she took a dump… in espanol!!

I have to learn it. I think if I do, I get paid more. Yes!

No other news. I miss the Beccinator. She is in OK, without me. I’ve become more clingy than I ever thought I would be… to a five year old.

I have a blonde joke for you: What did the blonde do when her boyfriend said he loved her?

She believed him! Haha. Maybe that’s just a girl joke, not specific to blondes. Ha. I’ll be here all night.

for London. 37 dead, and over 700 injured. I read that this is their bloodiest day since WWII. Crazy… I thought that surely something must have happened since then. Terrorists are buttholes. That’s all I’m going to say about that, lest I go on a million word rant.

In other news, I forgot to tell you that I’ve added someone to the bag. The honor goes to (drumroll please)…..

The Entire Population of New Mexico!!

I wasn’t going to bag them. Not even after the shooting. I thought maybe it was only one dumb guy and a few bad drivers. Not so. Every single person (not exaggerating) that I met in the state was either horribly rude or horribly idiotic.

Store clerks… we ask her to turn on the gas pump…. and she stands there and looks at us. She has our card, we told her how much…. and she stands there, incapable of doing what I know (or at least hope) she has been trained to do.

Jack in the Box… we order a chicken strip meal and an ultimate cheeseburger. They give us tacos. We say no, we didn’t order tacos. They say…. did you order tacos? We again say no, we had no tacos. They look at us. By this point I’m pissed, so I demand our money back. It took them at least three minutes (full minutes) to figure out how much ten dollars and 30 cents was. There is more, but I am too angry to speak of it. However, I was reading Maxim on the way out of the state and they said in the questions sections that New Mexico was indeed the dumbest state. I knew it.  

I hate my dog. He is now for sale. He peed, right in front of me, just to spite me.

Read my lips…. NO NEW DOGS.

My life the past week has been somewhat akin to a George Jones song. I will quit my job, and write country music about my week. I could get at least three songs out of it. Hits I tell you. Hits.

Shane sometimes calls me a tortured soul. Sometimes I am at my peak, and other times I want to wear all black, sit in a dark room, cry, and write poetry. My teen angst years at least seem worse to me than many others. I had many bouts of suicidal ideation and intention, I was on Paxil at sixteen, so on and so forth. But I grew out of it, and I have become (in my humble opinion) a somewhat productive member of society. What about those who never make it that far?

In my family and circle of friends, deaths always happen in threes. It’s been this way since I was young. I can vividly remember my Great Aunt passing away, and my mom mourning not only for her, but for the two more people who were soon to go. Two more always inevitably followed. Always. It isn’t always someone close to me, but it can also be someone close to a good friend…. I don’t know why death happens like this in my experience, but when it rains…. it pours. I can’t seem to say much more than that without being overwhelmed. My cousin killed himself today. He overdosed on heroin. We grew up together, and had great fun. Shortly before he graduated high school, his mother committed suicide. After that it was never the same. He was a shell, as anyone would be. Instead of turning to more productive things, he turned to drugs. The last time I saw him I told him that he was going to kill himself if he didn’t stop….. and he never did. He led a tragic life, but he always withstood until his mother passed. I don’t grieve for him being gone, because I know he can’t possibly be in a worse place than he was alive. I grieve because of the life he had to suffer through… and the father, grandfather, and family he left behind. I don’t know if some people suffer more than others, or if we all suffer in different ways. It’s such a subjective opinion.  I do hope he gets to see his mother again.

There are now two. Like my mother did so long ago, I find myself already grieving for that unknown third person. Please be careful with yourself, and be sure to tell those around you how important they really are. We never know when we won’t get another chance.