Tuesday, August 31, 2010

A Good Idea

HEY! I have a good idea. How about every Tuesday (or Friday) I have a couple of beers and just write about completely random things?! Disclaimer: Don't worry, this probably won't actually happen, I've just had a few beers and thought I'd write about completely random things tonight.

So here it goes:


I sometimes wish that I was a guy just so I could wear really comfortable clothing and still be considered sexy. Like, for example, right now I would be donning a colorful pair of converse, some skinny jeans in black, an awesome hipster shirt and vest, a hoodie, and a beanie. And I'd douse myself in Aqua Di Gio because it turns me on. (It really does. I mean, seriously, I can smell it from across the room and get obviously flushed).

Ok, what else is random. Maybe my ridiculous fear or tornadoes? My recurring tidal wave dreams? My extreme love of annoying Christmas music?

I know, I can talk about my very bizarre turn-ons. Ok, first of all, you will score points if you are wearing a top hat or fedora. I don't know why, I am a very weird girl, but I gotta say a guy in a top hat is just plain sexy. Take Slash for example...just look at him! I don't care about anything except that ridiculous top hat!

Also, a guy with a guitar just makes me weak in the knees. Even better: a guy with an accordion. Not kidding. Bonus points if he is wearing hipster suspenders or a hat.

Next, Aqua Di Gio. Period.

Ok I'm getting far too excited here...and frankly, I'm sick of writing. Now I shall enjoy my blue moon and watch the office.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Why Can't We Be Friends?

Dear First Week of Grad School,

Listen, I understand that you are for "smart" people who are "critical thinkers" and all that crap, but let's just take this one step at a time. I am invested in this relationship, and I'm totally willing to meet you halfway on issues that are important to you, but I've gotta be honest here; you are making me crazy. You need to communicate, grad school, or I will have no idea what you are trying to get across to me. EVER.

It's not that I don't find you sexy, I do. It's simply the fact that you are kind of an asshole. I don't really have much more to say to you at this point other than the fact that you need to shape up, because I don't have any anti-anxiety medication and frankly, I'm already teetering on the brink of madness.

I know we both kind of rushed into this, but I know we can make each other happy in the long run.

Thank you for your time, and for my student loan check,
Angela



Sometimes, people just deserve it.

P.S. Check me out over at Mushroom Printing, where I've posted and oldie but a goody...well sort of.

Sunday, August 29, 2010

Meltdown

Ok I'm having a meltdown. I don't know how I'm going to get through grad school. Financially, emotionally, mentally, physically. What have I done??? Why on earth did I decide to apply to this program this year. I should have waited another year or couple years. Then I could have gotten my shit together. I could have saved up some money and been stable. I could have not had all the emotional shit that this year brought upon me.

I'm going to need a fricken bottle of horse tranquilizers to get through this, I swear. It's become almost a nightly thing, this crazy panicky feeling. Its not quite a panic attack, but it will be. Maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. Every time I sit down to just organize my study schedule or try to figure out due dates for these ridiculous assignments, it takes hours and my brain ends up going into overload. I haven't even done any REAL homework or studying. I'm still just desperately trying to get my shit together.

In other news, I'm being completely and totally outwitted by the mouse that is loose in my apartment. The damn thing is still here somewhere. I've named him Alfredo. I bought a real mousetrap at the hardware store today so I'm crossing my fingers (it won't kill him, just trap him).

Alfredo: 1
Grad Student Who Desperately Needs Some Xanax: 0


This is the worst.

You Will Haunt Me In My Dreams

Today I woke up from a nap with the unmistakable feeling of heartache. I don't know exactly why, but I'm guessing it's a dream I had. It's rare that I don't remember my dreams, since i dream so incredibly vividly. I'm not sure why this is or what caused it, but I have always had these lucid, intricate dreams that are sometimes so realistic that when I wake up, there is a period of a few minutes where I wonder if it was real. I've found myself feeling for the stab wounds that I sustained, or the new piercing that I got.

I've woken up screaming before, I've woken up crying, tears running down my face. I've woken up laughing, smiling, singing. It's all very bizarre and also embarrassing if there happens to be someone sleeping near me. It seems to happen more often than not when I'm alone though. When the dreams are good, they are fantastic. When they are bad, they are really bad.

On a totally unrelated note, there is a mouse that is in my bedroom somewhere that I have been trying to capture for about 4 hours. So far, no dice. At first, I vowed not to sleep in there until I caught him, but I've got to get to bed soon...this is getting ridiculous. Apparently this particular mouse doesn't like peanut butter as much as other mice. I've tried to make it very clear to him that I don't want to hurt him, I just want to catch him so I can put him back outside, but I guess it's difficult for him to understand that while I am wielding a giant spatula in his direction.

Wish me luck.

Also, I started running again yesterday...I am very sore. But! It felt fantastic. More on that later. I'm going to go again tomorrow. Probably. If not tomorrow then Monday.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

GRAWWWWWUUUGGHH

This is the exact noise I made as soon as I reached maximum capacity for information at the orientation today. It was a kind of guttural and savage cry for help that I'm sure my cave-women ancestors made every time they got beat in the head with a large club or attacked by some sort of saber-toothed cat. This, my friends, is apparently the sound of complete and utter submission to the fact that you are totally fucked.

After the initial meet and greet with the instructors, the orientation to the Nurse Practitioner Master's Program started with a calm explanation about what to do when you begin to have a panic attack. It started off as a light-hearted joke, and then quickly became "no, seriously...when you start hyperventilating and throwing up, just sit down and breathe. We need to take this one day at a time. Don't look at all your text books when they are stacked up all in one place" etc. (I looked at my text books all stacked up in one place and had a panic attack last week).

So, then we got an 8 hour lecture describing what we were expected to do. As all of us were reviewing the syllabus (for the ONE class...out of FIVE) and furiously scribbling notes and highlighting important dates, I glanced around the room. I could tell that people were starting to lose it. I'm glad I wasn't the only one, but at the same time, it was a terrible sight. People were chugging their coffee, grimacing, tearing up, breathing too fast. I even saw people at some points just drop their pens on the desk, slack-jawed and blank, and put their heads down on the table. I'm also 95% sure that one person ran out of the room to puke. I was somewhere in between feeling like laughing with insanity while shredding my notes into confetti, and sobbing uncontrollably while I scream "I-JUST-DON'T-THINK-I'M-GOING-TO-G-GET-ENOUGH-CLINICAL-HOURS! I DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO ANYTHING!"

During the lunch break, we all huddled in the cafe at the library shivering like we were going through delirium tremens, even thought it was about 100 degrees outside. Nobody said too much. We all just bought some coffee or tea (for me a giant-ass iced tea, which always seems to cheer me up. Today it just barely got me through).

After lunch, we reviewed the assignments, in addition to the clinical hours we were to do. The weekly write ups, the on-site evaluation by clinical faculty, the complete history and physical paper, the episodic papers, the patient logs, the text books that we need to consult nightly and whatever else there is that I'm forgetting. At the end of the day, Dr. Professor says "OK well, that's the clinical portion, I will see you all day Tuesday to have the orientation for the didactic classes. Those will be challenging compared to this".

And that's when I, along with most of the class, made the noise.

Monday, August 23, 2010

Day One: Success

Well, today marks the first official day of grad school. I haven't started the didactic portion yet (Wednesday is coming awfully fast...) but I went to my clinical rotation at the Women's Health Clinic. I'm just observing to begin and by observing I mean staring down at a whole lot of cervixes. I got to look at BV under a microscope and was able to diagnose it, so I find that to be a plus. Basically by the end of the day I was just making bets with myself about whether the carpet would match the drapes on particular patients. Mature, I know. You can take the girl out of the scene, but you can't...you get the point.

In all seriousness though, I can tell I'm going to love women's health. I mean, it's not all sweet pregnant women...trust me, things get pretty gross. However, as an ICU nurse, I'm pretty sure it won't be THAT gross. I have a really high tolerance for gross, by the way. Like, I literally cheered when I saw BV under the microscope, and I vocalized that I wished it was trichomoniasis. I'm one sick fuck. Which is why I feel like I can really excel at this job.

So tomorrow it's off to the hospital for inservices all day (yay). Wednesday I'm on campus all day, Thursday it's back to clinicals, and Friday...either clinicals or I have off. So, yeah. As long as I get my shit together (ha) I know that I can balance a social life (HA) and school and work from time to time. I just have to get on top of things and grind it out (that's what she said). Ok-give me a break, I had to wear professional clothing and a lab coat all day and pretend to know what I was doing. I'd really like a Guinness right now, but I can't have one until Thursday or Friday...boo.

Time to do the dishes, read a few chapters of my book, and go to sleep. Ah, living the dream.

Sunday, August 22, 2010

We're All Mad Here

Well, I've spent all weekend acting like a teenage boy as per normal since I have been single. Here's the the rub though: 12 hours from now, I have to suit up in my business-casual with my pressed white lab coat and name tag, wearing makeup, hair neat and shiny, and pretend to be a professional person. Technically, I AM a professional, but I feel like a total fraud. I mean, come on.

So, panic attacks about finances, school info, crazy patients, lack of social life, and just plain not knowing anything all over again, are sure to ensue again. Actually they've already started. I hate feeling like I don't know anything. I am completely terrified to do this. And this time I feel like I'm going it alone.

Also, I'm not going to be living with my parents. I just can't do it, for a number of reasons that I can't even discuss right now. I man, I love them to death but I just can't live there. So, this means that money is going to be tight. Really tight. REALLY TIGHT. So, I gotta find a new place to live ASAP. A cheap place.

Also, I figure that maybe once I finally lose my mind, maybe I'll feel better. Like, I just wont care anymore. Maybe once I finally crack, it will be almost like a state of enlightenment. I'll just sit there with a goofy grin on my face and go through the motions and I won't feel a thing.

Monday, August 16, 2010

It Only Hurts When I Laugh

So I've been skimping on the blog, for sure. But that's not all, ladies and gentlemen. I've been the epitome of lazy and hedonistic lately. A little heavy-handed with the liquor here and there, staying up all night then sleeping all day, having lusty thoughts all day about a certain handsome man, eating all sorts of delicious takeout... the list goes on.

But the hard truth, my friends, is that next week I need to be responsible again. Pretty much cold turkey. And not only that, but project getting-out-of-my-own-head hasn't been going as well as I planned (we all know what happens to "plans" in my life). So...instead I'm doing something new.

These days (especially next week when I'm forced into being responsible) I plan on doing the things that make me truly happy (in addition to school and work, which, well I made my bed and now I have to lie in it). I'm finished trying to control anything other than what I know that I can control. It's no longer settling or conformity for me, I've learned that it will actually serve me better in life.

So, the things that make me truly happy are really simple. They are:

Be around people that make me feel good (friends and family)
Having some alone time occasionally where I am not doing anything stressful
Cooking often and eating mostly healthy fresh food
Working out daily or close to daily...i.e. running/swimming/yoga
Listening to/playing more music

So, I'm sure that these are just totally obvious things, but it's back to basics, people. The things I'm going to have trouble with are balancing all this with the stress of work and school. Especially the working out. Eating healthy and cooking gets kind of hard when I'm so busy, but it's going to be even harder to drag my lazy ass out of bed. I lack motivation these days.

But honestly, the working out part is maybe the most important. Health-wise, I know the benefits. I know the benefits for my mental health and my racing thoughts and anxiety-especially in grad school. I know how good I feel after I work out. I feel happy, I feel like my problems are not unsolvable. When I run, everything else seems to slow down. I can outrun anything if I keep going long enough. When I swim, I can't hear anybody speaking. I can hardly hear my thoughts. Just the music in my head and the rhythmic sounds of my stroke and breath. When I am doing yoga, I feel strong. I feel powerful and feminine. I can lift myself, and I can breathe through any pain that may be inflicted upon my body. Everything is only temporary.

This is why it's so important for me to begin doing these things regularly again.


That and of course the fact that next year is the 100th anniversary of Bay to Breakers and I will be GOD DAMNED if I'm not running that entire race in costume and then partying it up afterward. Anyone up to join me in the centipede category?

Sunday, August 8, 2010

Reality Prevails...Until 20 Minutes From Now When I Will Be Pouring Myself a Martini

That's right invisible blog followers; I am officially back from vacation. It still makes me giggle to myself and feel a little like a fraud when I admit to having a blog, but I do that anyway...so no biggie I guess.

So, the trip was good. Relaxing for the most part. Except the "hike" I went on. Apparently the term hike encompasses full on rock climbs now...because that's kind of what this was. 8 miles. Since this is my blog (heh.) and I'm in charge (HA!) I will say that I mastered the climb in full makeup and shook my hair out when I reached the top all sexy slow-motion style, a bead of sweat glistening on my perfectly exposed cleavage as I left everyone else in the dust below me.

Clearly, this is not what happened.

Here's what it was really like: I kicked myself all the way to the top for not working out regularly, wheezing and panting like a motherfucking morbidly obese rhinocerous kicking up more dust than anybody. It was a borderline dangerous thing that I didn't bring water, even though the superhero men in my family finished the hike without complaint of any kind (my mom opted out, which is definately for the best, although it would have made me feel MUCH better about myself). I did finally reach the destination, which was some pools of water and waterfalls which are actually incredibly slippery and dangerous, but magnificently beautiful and fun to swim in. That's another thing...I didn't think I would be swimming in them, because unfortunately I didn't dress accordingly, but when I was wading in the water trying to cool off from the hell hike, I slipped on the dangerously slippery rocks and fell all the way in cartoon-syle (with much eggagerated waving of the arms and trying to regain my balance for like 5 seconds before actually going down). A couple other hikers had a pretty good laugh, and I didn't really get hurt, just a couple bruises.

By the time I got back to the lake, and I DID get back dammit, I was pretty much hallucinating from dehydration...not fun or recommended. After downing about a gallon of iced tea and water, the endorphins kicked in. It took me a few hours to recover, and I was loopy and sore, and I was covered in mosquito bites, and sunburnt...and I had a reaction to some sunscreen that left me with a mild rash...but despite all this, I have decided to do the "hike" again next year.

Now, you all must be thinking how stupid and masochistic that is, but hear me out. This year I will try to get in a little better shape (not making too many promises..), and I am going to invest in a camel back so that I may have the luxury of cold, delicious water while I am climbing. Now that I know what to expect, I can plan...so I probably won't get the shit beat out of me as much (maybe).

I am going to go ahead and pour that martini now...I have been recently reintroducing my good friends coffee and alcohol back into my life. This past week off of work has been fan-FUCKING-tastic. So fantastic in fact that I am currently toying with the notion of jetting off to Vegas tomorrow since I don't have anything else scheduled until next week. Sort of depends on if I can convince a certain AWESOME PERSON to join me. We'll see how that goes. I may not be the coolest person in the world, and I may not have had the best luck lately...but things are turning around! This is the beginning of a new and improved more awesome me...at least until late August.