Wounds and Pressure Ulcers

I was given the most phenomenal opportunity today.   I got to shadow the nurses on wound rounds at a long term care facility in Delaware.  This makes some people queasy, but I LOVE this kind of stuff!  I was always the one who flipped ahead to the pictures of pencils jammed in peoples’ eyes in my CPR and First Aid training classes.  It’s not that I enjoy watching people suffer, I just find the process of caring for these kinds of situations fascinating. 

Most of the wounds I saw were typical for nursing home residents.  Sacral region- stages 1 and 2 (redness and broken skin that barely penetrates the dermis).  However, I was able to see one or two stage 3 wounds, which, I’ll admit, was a little alarming to see in person at first.  Pictures are one thing, real life is another.  It was still incredible to observe the damage, and the care that the nurses provided. 

Some of the wounds were easy to treat, with minimal damage to the underlying skin.  Some of the wounds were inches wide and deep, craters that bore so deep you swear it touched their soul.  (The nurses used Q-tips that they stuck in the wound to measure how deep it was).  Some wounds were hidden to the naked eye, nestled in crevices long neglected.  Others were in the healing process, weeks in the making, but on the way towards full recovery.  And here the nurses were, doing what they could to provide comfort and healing.  I never saw one of them wince.  Not once.

These physical wounds I saw today were concrete.  I could see them, touch them, care for them.  Internal wounds, however, are not tangible.  We can’t see or touch them, but they ARE there, and they can be cared for.  Some people bear wounds that have barely penetrated the surface- haven’t had too much of a negative impact on their life.  Some have wounds that feel miles wide and deep, affecting their soul even when they have done all they could to shake the memory of it.   

Most internal wounds are unknown by others.  Their owners hide them in the crevices of their folded, tucked away secrets.  Others found their wounds and have given them the care they needed, leaving them with minimal scarring and a reminder that obstacles can be overcome.  Not an easy process, they say, but absolutely necessary to living a better life. 

We may not all have excruciatingly deep wounds, but that doesn’t mean we are immune to them.  We might find ourselves with one down the road, we just don’t know it yet.  We all have the potential to acquire one.  But we also have caregivers, family, and friends that, if given the chance, will be right there by your side to assist in the healing process.  With their attention and care, you will heal faster than if you were to take it on alone.  You just have to give them the opportunity, the chance. 

Words for the Wise

-- Don’t lay unfortunate, life altering news on someone at 5 AM in the morning.  They’re likely, due to lack of sleep, to lash out in anger.  They’ll want to hit something, so protect your face.

-- Things are never as great as they first appear.  It’s either better than you imagined, or much much worse.

-- Shut your mouth while at work.  I don’t care if you despise your coworkers because they were honest and told you your ideas weren’t logical.  Speak your mind, and approach all issues with sincerity.  Then, stop pissing and moaning about what happens afterwards.  You did your best and gave it your all.  Now it’s time to move on, and with a positive attitude. 

-- Be considerate of other peoples’ pocketbooks.  Don’t pressure them into doing something and then think poorly of them if they can’t participate because of money.  They are conscientious of their spending and are probably debt free, or desperately want to be in the near future.  Enjoy doing things that don’t cost a lot of money.  You might even pick up a few pointers in the finance department.    

-- If people        a) look at their watch,

b) yawn,

c) look aimlessly around you, or

d) b. and c. simultaneously

                while you are talking to them, sorry, but they are not interested in what you are saying. Stop talking.  Ask them a question about themselves.  Engagement, and their impression of you, will likely improve if you focus your concentration on them.   

-- Know when to let go.

-- Stop procrastinating.  And stop using the “I work better under pressure” excuse for it.  The only reason you use that excuse is because you HAVE to….you have waited too long, and there are no more excuses left.  Man up, set a schedule, and get your stuff done.   

Things You Don't Miss Until They're Gone

The availability of authentic ethnic food

Dark chocolate covered anything

3 hour coffee dates

Sleeping under a down comforter

A loved one’s laugh

Long chats with childhood friends

Your favorite lounge pants

Cell phone/ technology free atmospheres

Singing favorite songs while on family road trips

Shopping with mom

Waking up to the whisper of a child instead of an alarm

Hugs from cherished ones (I’m talking about the real hugs.  Not those fake, half-assed, I’m barely going to touch you ones)

Second chances

Thank you to all my family and friends that made this 2012 holiday season one of the greatest I’ve ever had.   I love you all, and you have each held a special place in my life.  I am who I am because of you.

Listen up, womenfolk, and ask yourself this question

Are you a Twilight Zone toy? 

What is this contraption, you ask?  I’ll explain in further detail, but, according to Laura Schlessinger, it’s the epitome of what some women become when they date or long to be with a man. 

So many women lose their identity when they meet “the man of their dreams”.  They become interested in the things he likes…EVERYTHING he likes.  The girl begins watching Game of Thrones and takes up bowling, when that is the last thing she’d be caught doing before she met him. She drops everything she used to do just so she can be the perfect girl, the girl she thinks he wants.    

She’s become a Twilight Zone toy.  If someone is holding her or is with her, she changes and becomes animated and full of life. If they put her down and leave the room, she becomes an inanimate object.  The man becomes the “battery” that gives the woman life.  She has no identity without a male figure there next to her.  She feels that approval, purpose, safety, and security can only be had through him.  That she's only worth something if she is with him. 

 …My eyes are bulging.  WHYYYY!  Why do women do this?!  We’re worth more than that.  YOU are worth more than that!

Men cannot be the sole reason for our existence, nor do they WANT to be.  Men are often burdened with the task of being the source of affirmation and approval for the woman’s self-esteem. They are drawn to women who exhibit self-confidence and set goals for themselves. A man wants to share a woman’s life, not BE her life.

So please, please, please, if you find yourself acquiescing to everything your man wants and does, know that you are your own individual.  You can earn money, travel, make decisions, and have fun all on your own. I find it helps if you make a list of things you want to accomplish for yourself, even if it is the smallest of all accomplishments.   Learn a new language, take a pottery class, go to a movie by yourself.  It all works. 

Know that you are capable of forming a healthy relationship where you and your significant other have separate identities and personalities. It makes for a much better, longer lasting relationship. 

Morning Fog

Morning fog.  The period when much of what lies ahead is hazy, sometimes completely indistinguishable.  

Looking at it from your bedroom window it appears mysterious, even alluring.  Standing in it is a bit different, though.  It doesn’t seem so bad at first.  But after awhile you begin to feel trapped, not knowing which way to go or what you’re walking towards.  At times you barely feel as if you’re moving because you cannot see below yours knees.  You feel stuck in one spot, even though your feet are taking you somewhere.

Sometimes my life feels this way.  I get trapped in this type of state that is so strange it doesn’t even have a name.  It just reminds me of the fog. 

That state, where your thoughts become cloudy and fragmented.  Where you think about all the things in your life that are uncertain.  That state, where you cannot comprehend the patchiness of your circumstances and how you got to where you are. That state that you know won’t last forever, but that you never thought you’d be stuck in this long.  

Stress amplifies this state.  Periods of distinct loneliness, made apparent by the miles between family and friends, amplify this state. That feeling of freedom and independence turns to fear when you know you have no one to physically run to for comfort.

You realize you’re trapped for awhile.  

But only for awhile.  Like the fog, the state will dissipate. Your days will eventually clear and become visible. 

The hardest part is waiting out the fog. 

People Watching

Baseball games.  Malls.  City parks.  All great places to watch people.  My favorite, however, has to be the airport. 

When I say “watch people”, I do not mean creepily staring them down.  It implies casually observing the everyday happenings of others.  You’ve done it, too, so don’t try to hide it.

It’s so intriguing because we want to see if other people act the same way we do.  We want to see if they handle stress in similar ways, how they dress, and if their personalities match up with the stereotypical norm. 

In airports it’s pretty easy to pick out the first time flyers.  They fidget.  Frantically tapping their foot, they can’t keep still for the life of them.  Then there are the frequent flyers, a simple briefcase and look of annoyance on their face.  The distressed parents, all wide-eyed and yelling “NO (insert child’s name here)” as their kid climbs all over the chairs and accidentally nudges an aggravated neighbor.  The beauty queen, reapplying bright pink blush and lipstick 6 times while waiting at their gate.  And, my favorite, the comfort seekers.  Dressed in sweatpants, Uggs, and a see-through tee, they can’t pull themselves away from their cell phones. 

What a mix. 

I can’t help but think about all of the people in the world when I’m awaiting a flight at the airport.  How many people pass through here every day?  Thousands.  Each with a history and a background.  Each with their own story to tell. 

I had a conversation with a wonderful woman on a short hour and a half flight this past weekend.  The beauty of these chats is that you will, more than likely, never see that person again.  So what’s the harm in sharing personal struggles and stories that you wouldn’t normally tell?  There’s really nothing to lose, and only much to gain. 

It’s pretty incredible to think how much we might learn by simply listening to another’s life story.  It happened to me this weekend, and it only took an hour and a half. 

Spark up a conversation with the stranger sitting next to you.  You’ll be surprised at what you’ll get out of it.

The Appetite

Unique places, exceptional sights.  Delectable food, and new relationships.  The appeal, so great, becomes a riveting temptation.  Like a magnet drawn to its charm.  Then, dull monotony.  Not right away, of course, but over time. 

I love these new experiences.  I love being a part of it.  That is, until I find myself jaded.  The charm turns to displeasure after awhile.  No longer full of flavor, you’re left with a rather bland dish and little aftertaste.  Only can the appetite be cured with an entirely different menu, or change of scenery altogether.   

Will I ever satisfy my appetite?  I often ask myself this.  I jump from one thing to the next, only to become bored and lifeless.  How far will I have to go to find the next best thing?  Constantly yearning for more, one might call it selfishness.  Maybe it’s something more discreet, or maybe it’s something that can’t be put into exact words. 

Perhaps it’s a feeling, deep down.  An indefinable fear that is fed when one settles for something less than they deserve.  Or, maybe that appetite just wants to continue to be nurtured with established routine and contentment. 

Deep, Powerful Desire

Have you ever found yourself so drawn to something that it takes over your complete existence?  Hour to hour, day to day you think about it.  Thoughts can be entirely good or entirely immoral, but what about the ones that might be a combination of the two?  At one moment the very thought makes you feel overjoyed, and then the next it drags you down to the bottom of a dark lake, suffocating your every move. 

The feelings become apparent over time, but sometimes all at once.  Unexpected, yet so natural.   Is it wrong to think this way?  Right to some degree?  It must be if the feelings are so strong. 

I recently read a fantastic book that dropped the notion that humans stand in the middle of God and the Devil, holding the hands of each.  Too afraid to let go of either for fear of what they’d be missing, they cling.  I can’t say I disagree entirely. 

What is it that draws us, what attracts us to these situations of greed?  We could probably avoid it, easily.  Yet, it entices us with desires that fulfill what we considered implausible. 

We feel that it is our one and only chance, so we continue to pursue it.  It’s ok because it’s clearly a sign, no?   We justify.  We justify our feelings, our actions, because we know the pain and hurt of losing what we defend is too much to bear alone.  

Only when it starts to affect us this way do we realize our feelings sink much deeper.  We want something we don’t have.  And when we see the rewards reaped from those who do have it, we want it that much more. 

Where else could I find what they possess? 

Nowhere.  

So the thoughts, the actions, continue.  Sometimes unintentionally.  Sometimes not.

"Us" and "Them"

I had the opportunity to listen to this astounding speaker last weekend.  Seeing him approach the podium, his age made known by the wrinkles and graying hair, I thought I’d have to struggle to keep my eyes open.  I was entirely wrong. 

 It was amazing listening to this man.  There was so much passion behind his words, and you could tell he was speaking from the heart of a man where only wisdom and experience reside.  But he spoke about a concept that I know is familiar to everyone.

He talked about “Us” and “Them”.  “Those” people in that town are not like or associated with “Us”.  They dress differently and talk differently, and so they are not like us in any way.  Those people are from another state or country; they are not us. 

I know we’ve all thought this way before.  It’s a natural thought, and one that deserves attention.  I fell into this thought process not 4 weeks ago when I moved to Maryland.  I, being from Wisconsin, was not a Maryland resident.   Everyone I met was “different”; they weren’t like me. 

Yet, now that I’ve been here a month, I associate myself with Maryland.  “Hi.  I’m Sarah, and a proud resident of Maryland!  I smile when I see crab on a menu and I have a small place in my heart for the Oriole’s”.  Okay, I don’t say these things out loud, but I think them.  I feel like I am a small part, but a part nonetheless, of MD.  I now tell others that I am one of “them”.   But what changed my mindset?  Is it just because I’m now living in their state?  I guess.  When you think about it, though, the only thing that really sets me apart is my accent.  The people in MD still eat and breathe like the people in WI.  They work, go to church, and have parties just like the people in WI.  I now wonder why I separated them into different categories. 

It’s weird how we distinguish between “us” and “them”.  We don’t associate people or things with “us” until we experience them, until they are a part of our everyday lives.  3 months ago I never associated the people of MD with myself, and yet here I am now.  The same is true for the people from Oregon or India.  I don’t associate them with myself…..right now.  But that’s not to say I won’t someday. 

We get caught up in who we are with and who we are connected to.  In reality, we’re connected to everyone in some small way or another.  We may never go certain places or meet certain people, but we are connected.  Think about the situations you find yourself in.  Try to look past “them”, the judgment and preconceived notions.  

You never know when “they” could turn into “us”. 

Intimidation Factor

Meeting someone new can be a very scary thing.  “Will they like me?”  “Will I meet their expectations?”  All sorts of crazies run through our minds.  Well, maybe not.  I can only speak for myself.  But I imagine the majority of you have travelled down that path at least once or twice.

It’s different in every situation.  And with every person.  Take, for instance, these types of scenarios:

MEETING WHO?	WEIRD/ AWKWARD THOUGHTS I MIGHT HAVE
A new roommate	Will they criticize the weird things I eat?  How long before I can fart in front of them without them giving me the “you’re a freak” stare?  They’ll be so much more social than me, and I’ll be the loser watching “Big Bang Theory” on weekends.
A potential mate	Are they bored with what I’m talking about? How soon should I kiss them?  And should I kiss them, or should I let THEM make the first move? The dreadful pause during a conversation…how on earth am I going to fill it?!
An instructor/ preceptor	I’ll say something and they’ll think I’m completely unintelligent/ unqualified, and that I should head to admissions and drop the class immediately.  What if my stomach growls during the only silent 7 seconds of class? What if I ask a question and they don’t understand it, and they (with an annoyed expression) go on about something they just explained?

I feel that we suffer through that intimidation factor way more than we should allow ourselves to.  It’s especially bad when we think these things before we’ve ever even met someone.  I do it.  We all do it.  I think it’s because we often feel intimidated by the unknown. 

Take a look at the bigger picture and realize that these people, no matter their title, are all human.  They all have similar feelings.  They may or may not have had more, or different, experiences than we have.  But the point is they’ve dealt with anxiety, nervousness, anticipation, heartbreak.  I can’t think of anyone who hasn’t.    I think just having that basic understanding- knowing that you’re not alone in the way you’re feeling- makes those new, intimidating situations, like those listed above, more manageable.

I do want to say this.  Don’t let yourself NOT do something because you’re afraid you’ll feel inferior.   Don’t run away because you might have to do something you’re not comfortable with, or because it’s out of the ordinary and isn’t a part of your typical routine.  Don’t let those things stop you because, chances are, you’ll regret it. 

Take a leap of faith and go for it. Ask him out, sign up for that program, or check off that item on your bucket list.  It will change you, I can promise you that.  But it will change you for the better. 

Ah Maryland

Minnesota to Maryland.  They are only 3 states apart on an alphabetized geography list, but 6 on a US map.  Doesn’t seem like much on paper, but 20 hours in a car jam-packed with 10 months worth of crap makes me appreciate truck drivers, and backpackers. 

Perhaps many of you are renowned travelers and 20 hours in a car is next to nothing.  I used to be the girl who could barely stay awake for more than 3 ½ hours of driving, so I was more than worried.  However, I was pleasantly surprised when I stepped out of my car after 11 hours the first day.  Minimal butt numbness had occurred, and it took only 1 AMP energy drink to get me from point A to point B.

I also picked up a few tips along the way.  I won’t bore you with them all, but I’ll give you this one.  If you are driving anywhere east of Illinois and the posted speed limit is 55 mph, drive AT LEAST 70.  You’ll still be the slowest on the road, but you won’t get creamed by the line of cars behind you.

If I’ve learned anything over these past few days, I’d say it’d be this:  Do not enter situations with preconceived judgment.  I heard so many things from Midwesterners about “people from the East Coast” and how crabby, selfish, and inconsiderate they are.  That I should watch my “Minnesota Niceness” because it’ll come back to bite me.  Well, so far it hasn’t.  In fact, it’s been the complete opposite. 

A nice local man started talking to me about my travels at the first gas station I hit in Maryland.  Told me that I’d have a great time being near the ocean, and that I should stop by an auto shop to have them patch the small rust spot on my car because the salt water in the air could cause further damage.  Crabby?  Selfish?  Inconsiderate was he?  I think not.

I’ve never believed in that “A smile can brighten someone’s day” phrase as much as I do now.   Yes, people in Maryland do not smile as much as those in the Midwest, but that doesn’t mean I should smile less because I’m here.   It makes me want to smile more.  Because the look you get from people- that initial “why is she smiling at me?” look that turns to “oh, she’s really just trying to be nice” look- is entirely worth it. They are truly grateful for being acknowledged.   

I feel that Midwesterners find smiling to be common courtesy, yet when so many are given they sometimes become less meaningful.   People in Maryland may not show their pearly whites as much, but they show their appreciation for a received smile much more than those in the Midwest do.

 And I think that is a concept we all can learn from. 

 

Carousels

I do realize it is the middle of August, and has been nearly a month since I last blogged.  “I’m simply too busy” is my typical excuse for my lack of posts.   While this is absolutely true, it is still a poor reason as to why I cannot sit down and write.  I do apologize, and will do my best to get back in the habit of blogging on a weekly basis.  With my dietetic internship around the corner and my big move across the country only 2 weeks away, I won’t swear my life on it.  But I will promise to try.

When I think back on this past summer, I picture myself staring at a carousel.  You know when you stand aside and watch all those creepy animals whirl past you.  Trying to catch a glimpse of them all, you inevitably miss some.  My summer wasn’t creepy by any means (aside from being proposed to by a 64 year old Vietnam vet), but it was definitely a whirlwind.  After awhile I stopped watching the carousel and just hopped on.  I stopped worrying about all the chores I had to get done, or the homework I was supposed to start.  I had so many amazing people that I wanted to learn more about- to surround myself with.  I waited too long to jump on the carousel.  I was able to see many people, but there were so many that I wish I could have seen more of.  

Talking with friends, and acquaintances alike, has continued to give me insight on the most profound meanings of life.  This summer may have been more chaotic than I am used to, but I wouldn’t trade the daily 2 hour conversations I had with friends for anything.  I stopped watching the carousel and just hopped on.  I got sick of questioning whether or not I would have time to fit in all of the chores I had to get done, or the homework I should start.  Those coffee/ drink dates meant a great deal to me, and I never imagined I would gain so much from them.  Talk of travel and music to family values and men.  I love talking with people about their insight!  It really can be fantastic.  God has GIVEN you the opportunity to gain an understanding of another’s viewpoint, and I think that is a most phenomenal gift.  You are given numerous gifts and opportunities.  Relish them.  All it takes from you is openness and a willingness to listen.   

I found myself jumping on to this “carousel” of a summer.  Spending time and talking with people and visiting new and old places on the weekends has made it fly by.  I still can’t believe it, but in a few short days I’ll be packing up and leaving wonderful people and a city that has enriched the last 3 years of my life.  It’s going to be over so fast, just like any carousel ride.  I feel like I’m being pulled off a colorful horse (or one of those crazy zebras or camels they now have), only to find myself trying to catch my balance after such a fast ride. 

Short as it may have been, I know that I can’t stay on the same ride forever.  I guess I could, but it would get old and quite boring.  My journey around life’s circus is just getting started, and I’m ready to start my search for the next best ride.  It might be calm and enjoyable, or incredibly fast and scare me shitless.  I don’t really know.  But I’m standing in line, ready to find out.          

Can I Get Your Autograph?

I’ve never been one of those girls who attends concerts on a regular basis.  One concert every year or two has been my norm.  This summer, however, has been the exception.    

Artists amaze me.  All artists.  Painters, photographers, designers.  There’s just something about singers and musicians, though, that leaves me in a state of awe.  Maybe it’s the fact that part of their talent is an innate ability they were born with.  That they sound like heaven, roasted duck, and all things wonderful wrapped together yet have had little or no formal training.  All I know is I was not blessed with such talent, so I appreciate it in others. 

The cool thing is these artists are just like you and me.  Yes, they may be famous now, but they grew up running around in mismatched outfits like you and me.  They ate the nasty chicken nuggets at school, just like us.  They’ve had similar doubts, problems, heartaches.   Which is why I don’t understand people that fret over getting their autograph. 

I just want to start off by saying that I don’t dislike people who stand in line to get someone’s autograph.  I just simply don’t understand it entirely. 

 An autograph is often used as proof that you have, in fact, “met” this famous person.   When I meet someone new I try to get to know a bit about them.  Ask them a few questions, answer theirs.  Then, if I were to see that person again someday, I’d at least have some recollection of having met them.  And I would guess they’d recognize me as well.    

I don’t feel that standing in line and answering the one question an award winning singer might ask (How do you spell your name?) is “meeting” someone.  I know they would never recognize me again, and having their autograph isn’t going to change how great their music already is.  I still got to see them in concert, and if someone doesn’t believe that I got to witness their breathtaking performance because I have no autograph to shove in their face, then I say let it be.  Let it be, and know that while their criticisms and verbal attacks are approaches they use to feel better about their life, you were actually out living yours. 

C. Jam and the Mystery Man

If you’re a country fan, I admit that Wisconsin is the place to be.   With more than 4 big time festivals, you’re bound to spot at least one of your favorite country artists, without fail, every year.   You’re also bound to spot at least 4 dozen drunken hooligans wearing cut off jean short shorts and t-shirts that say “I’m in the mood”.  And hey, you might even be lucky enough to spot the 50 year old beer-bellied man wearing nothing but a grin and basketball shorts. 

I was lucky. 

I absolutely LOVE country music, so aside from all of the shenanigans caused by loud, obnoxious girls attempting to sing all the words to songs but fade out because they realize they don’t, it was pretty amazing.  I could do without those beach balls they hit around, though. 

Usually when I think of live singers, I picture okay performances with unpleasant acoustics and slightly off key singers.  Country Jam 2012 was anything but.  Honestly, I have not heard that many fantastic performers in a row before.  Chris Young, Trace Adkins, Luke Bryan, and Jason Aldean were absolutely phenomenal.  Really.  It takes a lot for me to say that.  But never once were there pitchy notes sung.  In fact, all of them hit more notes than I imagined.  The best part of the whole weekend was when Luke Bryan sat down and played and sung Adele’s “Someone Like You”.  If a person could actually melt, I would have been on the floor. 

I did run across more than my fair share of lunatics, but I also met a very nice man.  It’s one of the things I love about Wisconsin.  You can strike up a conversation with just about anyone and you have more than a 60% chance of receiving a friendly reply.  That’s exactly how it was with him.  Maybe we hit it off so well at first because we knew we would probably never see each other again and telling our life stories seemed harmless.  Regardless, we talked about topics that I normally wouldn’t talk about with someone unless I knew them for at least 2 months.  It was great, and at the end of the night we wished each other luck and parted ways. 

Attending my first Country Jam concert was quite the experience.  Many good and interesting encounters.  For those of you who have attended one, you know what I mean.  And for those of you who haven’t, I’d say go.  If just for the experience.  

And to the Mystery Man that I met, I send you my support and hope that your situation plays itself out for the best. 

The Woman Behind the Lemon Drop Cocktail

I hope everyone had a joyous fourth of July.  While the 4^th is far from my favorite holiday, I was definitely entertained. 

Before I jump in, I have to preface.  My Godmother is the most respected and remarkable woman I know, and she amazes me more and more every time I see her.   She’s one of those women little girls cherish and look up to.  When you think back to your childhood, your most vivid memories are of her.  Strong-willed, animated, independent, opinionated (but in the most valued and appreciated way), and anything but boring.  I’ve always thought this of my Godmother. 

It isn’t until your 20’s that you start seeing your family members in a different light.  I knew LeaAnn enjoyed unappealing, involuntary face deforming drinks (she’d let me taste sips of her Manhattans and Old Fashions when I was little), but I didn’t know at that time that she is the most knowledgeable bartender out there!  No, she’s not an actual bartender and can’t throw bottles through the air before pouring two drinks at once, but I’m guessing it’s because she can’t stand the idiots that down liquor for the sole purpose of getting drunk.  That, and bartenders’ sloppiness.  Never would she EVER waste good liqueur.  (In fact, my family gasps when someone spills their drink not because it gets all over the expensive laptop, but because it’s a waste of good alcohol).

Anyway, she’s done her homework.  You can put various alcohols in front of her and she will whip you up the most fantastic concoction you will ever drink. 

Like her Lemon Drop Cocktail. 

I loved it so much that I had to watch/ help her make her second batch. My mom loved it, too.  My little 9 year old cousin got her to jump on the large trampoline with him.  I could never get her to do that!  I was so shocked and astonished, I took the opportunity and joined them.  

I learned a few things about myself that day.  I don’t know all there is to know about each of my family members, and I want to continue talking with and learning about their personalities.  That, and I pee a little when I jump on large tramplines.  The alcohol, my unstoppable laughing.  Probably a combination of the two.  Whatever.  I’m not about to hide it. 

I hope you are given a chance to share a drink and a good convo with your family members.  Seek it out if you have to.  But really, if you get the opportunity, take it. 

LeaAnn’s Lemon Drop Cocktail

-Rim a large glass using a lemon wedge and raw sugar.  Fill with ice.

- Add:

 2 oz. limoncello

1 ½ oz. Absolut Citron Vodka

2 oz. Cointreau

2 oz. Sweet n Sour

-Garnish with a slice of lemon

The Pap

I am a big supporter of checkups, physicals, self-breast exams- the whole gamut.  They’re important.  The MD’s are doing their part to keep us healthy, and our stats help us stay accountable year after year.  But just because I support them, doesn’t mean I have to like them. 

I’ll do shots (I’m talking about the ones in the arm, not the ones at the bar.  Though I’ll do those, too).  Giving blood?  Piece of cake.  But there is one exam that I absolutely despise.  Ladies, you all know the one. 

…the Pap Smear (Dun dun dunn)! 

Seriously, though.  I really hate them.  Not because of the obvious embarrassment that comes with a random doctors face in your crotch, but because IT’S OUTRIGHT PAINFUL!  I don’t care who you talk to, no one can honestly tell me that that exam is nothing to worry about.  The exam where the doctor uses a speculum that looks like it belongs in a garage.  Don’t wave your hand at me and say, “Oh. It’s no big deal”.  I beg to differ.

It’s so bad I think we need to start warning the girls in middle school so they have ample time to prepare for the whole ordeal.  We spend years talking about and preparing them for menstrual periods, and those involve little to no pain.  Pap Smears- that’s what we really should be teaching them about. 

My doctor today was great, really.  She was easy to talk to, respectful, and had quite a few years under her belt .  I thought to myself, “Ok, she’s done this thousands of times.  Maybe she’ll be better than my last doctor”. 

NOPE!

I bled for 3 hours after my appointment.  Pretty sure that’s not supposed to happen.  I’m scarred now.  Literally and figuratively. 

But, like everything else that’s good for you, you bite the bullet and deal.  Nothing is as painful as finding out you have cancer or some other incurable disease once it’s too late. 

So, everyone, after hearing a story that made you want to reconsider Reiki, I encourage you to schedule your overdue appointment today.  They suck, but they’re still good for you J

Office Space

I’m currently working a summer job that reminds me more and more of the movie “Office Space”.  Not in the sense that I’m so mad at my boss I could destroy the entire company, but in the sense that my job is so boring and monotonous that, from 8-4:30, I think about …

1)      Coffee, or any other source of caffeine that might keep me awake

2)      My low vitamin D status

3)      All the things I’d rather be doing with my time 

4)    If the stapler next to me is mine or my coworkers'

It’s been a slow process, but I’m learning the ropes.  In between the 6 digit entries and “ctrl C”ing, I’m gaining insight regarding office dynamics and personality.

For instance, if you don’t get along with someone in an office, you’re screwed.  You’re sharing an enclosed space with people for 8 hours a day.  You better learn to live with and tolerate your coworkers.  Learn to love their annoying laugh, their coffee breath, and their frantic pacing when things go wrong. 

I’ve been working in this particular office for about 4 weeks now, and there are some things that I still don’t understand.  If you want to complain to or tell someone about a problem you’re having, then just flat out tell them.  Talking to your computer using run-on, incoherent sentences and blurting out “Jiminy Cricket!” is not going to do you any good.  It’s clear that you are frustrated, but when you start verbally using Disney characters’ names in place of actually discussing the problem, we get nowhere.  Tell me what happened and what you need me to do!  You don’t hear me shouting “Mufasa!” or “Mrs. Potts!” whenever I get pissed at Excel. 

I guess what I’m getting at is this-  If you work in an office, or ever find yourself stuck in an elevator/enclosed space, be mindful of what you say and do.  Other people take notice, and your actions may cause them to consider relocating, or self-hypnosis.  Or both.   

So Call Me Maybe

I heard THE song today.  Yes, the one with that annoying girl singing about how she “just met you, and this is crazy.  Here’s my number, so call me maybe”.  

I still don’t know how I feel about it. 

Don’t lie, you’ve had the same thought.  It’s catchy!  Well, the first 2 times you hear it, anyway.  It’s got a good beat.  It’s a song that sort of grows on you, as long as you don’t hear it 4 times a day.  The lyrics, however, obviously need some help. 

She clearly just met this guy and wants to see him.  So, Carly Rae, don’t, two stanza’s later, start talking about how

“before he came into your life

You missed him so, so bad”. 

I don’t care how analytical or poetical you are, those lyrics make absolute no sense whatsoever.  You can’t miss someone you’ve NEVER met before. 

I do give her props for one thing, though.  I like that she is bold enough to stand up for herself and ask the guy out.  She makes the first move.  Not unheard of, but definitely not the norm in our society today.  Women need to stop being so scared/ shy/ timid/ (insert your insecurity here).  If you like the guy, ask him out!  Stop contemplating and fretting it.  Just do it, and then move on if it’s not meant to be. No regrets.

I’ll bet you he digs your confidence and daring personality regardless. 

Overwhelmed Much?!

Snapping  pictures in the local park.  Sipping a latte while reading a good book at the coffee shop down the street.   Hitting up area concerts in the evenings. 

This is how I envisioned the start of my summer a few weeks ago.  The entirety of my summer, actually.  I’m starting to realize that the reality of it all is completely the opposite.  Work, attempting to organize my life for my upcoming internship, weddings, and wedding planning (not for me, mind you) all while trying to maintain an appropriate budget is proving to be more trying and stressful than I had imagined.   Sad face. 

Growing up sucks as it is.  But it sucks even more when you become a full-fledged adult and have NO summer to look forward to.  Okay, that sounds a bit morbid, but there are no more free days to go to the pool.  No 5-6 days off, in a row.  Say goodbye to sleeping in or lounging around in shorts and flip flops all day long.  I mean yes, you can do some of these things on the weekends, but it’s still not the same.  Bah.

It’s true that the craziness of everyday life never ends.  I guess that’s why, I’m finding, it’s important to create your own little vacation or “escape”, even if it is the smallest of small things.  Lunch with a good friend.  Movie and popcorn night with the roommates.  Visits to the farmers market.  You get what I’m saying. 

I feel that we all need to find something that we can look forward to.  Maybe it will keep us sane, maybe it will just add to our never-ending “To-Do” lists.  Regardless, I think it’s worth a shot.  What else do we have to lose?

Things Sought, Things Accomplished, Things Learned

It’s official.  I am DONE with the figure competition! 

It’s been a few days since I stepped on stage and I can happily say that I am fully hydrated, fed, and bloated (ok, so I’m not so happy about the bloated part).  But I’ll take it because the pizza, chocolate, and ice cream that I indulged in were well worth it.  

Since I’ve been in a constant sugar coma these past three days, I’ve had a lot of time to think about the whole ordeal.  The amount of knowledge I’ve gained these past 11 weeks has been incalculable. I give those that compete in figure competitions a lot of credit.  It’s not an easy process.  However, it’s not an entirely safe process either. 

Entering a figure competition once is a great experience, as a person has the opportunity to learn more about their physical and mental abilities.  For instance, you learn that your body can function (sometimes even better) without certain foods.  Your cravings are simply that.  Cravings.  You don’t NEED that daily Mountain Dew or Skittles kick to make it to your 3 pm meeting.  Learning and adopting a “clean” diet has immense benefits. 

At the same time, adopting a “figure competition” diet is another story.  While eliminating fruits and dairy helps you appear contest ready, it is something I would NEVER recommend long term.  For multiple reasons.  Your organ function will start to decline, especially your brain and kidneys from the excess protein and low carb intake.  Your social life is put on hold, or suffers completely, because you can eat next to nothing if going out to dinner or for drinks.  You adopt the mindset that certain foods are “good” while others are “bad”, which is far from true (everything in moderation)!  And lastly, you get sucked into such a routine that life doesn’t become fun anymore.  You get up, go to work, eat the same thing for every meal, go to the gym, and sleep.   I don’t know about you, but I feel that life just isn’t worth living if you can’t be spontaneous, jump in the car, and drive 45 minutes to order an iced caramel latte and a Butterfinger blizzard with your best friend every once in awhile.  Yes, both the latte and the blizzard.  At the same time.  J

With that, I encourage you to try the things that might seem impossible to you.  Prove to yourself that you are capable and stronger than you might appear to be.  Learn about yourself.  Do so carefully and intelligently, and with your best interest in mind.