Lucky Me

I am a pathetic single girl. None of this fabulous, sex-in-the-city type lifestyle for me. I work, come home late, and consider myself to have gotten "lucky" when I manage to get in a load of laundry before bed. I got a phone call from a friend around 2 am a couple weeks ago...I didn't answer, but she left a message that went something like this:

(Insert drunk, partying voice here): "Laura...you have to come out here now. There's a guy here who wants to meet you. And he has a penis!!"

Needless to say, I didn't call her back. Call me old fashioned, but I usually require just a smidge more than that. Hell, I'd be thrilled for someone just to take me to dinner and drop me off afterwards. I've started to even reconsider past relationships (not Tim, mind you, but others). I need to work on meeting people and going out more, I think. I've gotten entirely too antisocial in my old age, and I'm sure my expectations are a bit out of order. It's time to loosen up, drop all preconceived notions and have some fun in honor of the days when "getting lucky" had more meaning.

I'll keep you posted.

A True Head Case

I have had to examine my head three times in the past week, and only had a successful result on one of the three occasions. The first examination took place last week at Old Time Pottery in Florissant, MO. I had to run in the store for something, and when I came back out, I couldn't find my car. I knew I had parked near the front (got lucky with rock-star parking), yet my car was nowhere to be found. Not wanting to jump to conclusions, I walked the perimeter of the entire HUGE parking lot. Three times. Then one of the store employees noticed me, and asked me if I was lost. She soon began looking for my car as well. When she had walked the entire perimeter of the parking lot two times and my little white corolla was still nowhere to be seen, we admitted that the car must have been stolen. The first call I made was to my mother. She said she'd be there right away. The second call was to 9-1-1 to report a stolen vehicle. About two minutes after 9-1-1 dispatched the officer, my mother called me. Did I remember that I was driving her red minivan and not my car? Shit. The third call I made was to 9-1-1 to cancel the stolen vehicle report.

The second examination took place this morning. I got up bright and early (7 am) to make some coffee, let the dogs out, and have a nice, leisurely breakfast before heading off to my brother's house to clean (I do this for extra $$). Just as I commenced my morning bathroom visit, I heard pounding on the door. What the heck?? So I hurriedly finished my business and rushed to the door. It was my mother. "Work called- they said you were supposed to be there 20 minutes ago, and they couldn't reach you on your cell phone. Did you forget?" Shit. I quickly powered up my cell phone, and called the unit. Yep, I must have written it down wrong because they were expecting me there today.

And the third examination took place this evening. I hurried into work this morning to care for a little toddler who was cute as a button. By the afternoon she was really not a PICU patient at all, and I decided to take her around the unit a little, since she was going stir crazy in the crib bed. I walked her around and around the unit while holding her. At one point she put her little head on my shoulder. I even passed her to the attending physician (and ICU director) who cuddled with her a bit and then gave her back. When I was putting her back in her bed, I noticed some "stuff" in her hair. Three nurses and several quick examinations later, we determined that she had head lice. I swear, my head immediately began itching. After work, I stopped in at Walgreens and purchased some lice shampoo and went home and went to work on my own head. And I regret to say that was the only success of the three events.

Who are you again?

On my way home from work tonight, I discovered something a little disturbing about myself: I am prematurely senile (aka Penile). I was looking at the "contacts" list in my cell phone trying to figure out who to call on my way home (I have a long, boring drive home), and I discovered that I have no idea who/what some of my contact entries are. And since you have to be somewhat of a frequent contact to end up in my phone (non-frequent contacts are relegated to the "redbook"), I should know everyone in there fairly well. But I have multiple mysterious entries. For example, tonight I found:

"Marty": I don't know any Marties (is that how you pluralize more than one Marty??) I have only ever known two Marties in my life. Marty #1 was my co-host of the Marty and Lou Radio Show at Mizzou (no one ever listened, EVER). I haven't seen him since around 1999, and I didn't even have a cell phone then. Marty # 2 was my clinical nursing instructor at St. Joe's and I know I'd never put her in my phone book (too high a risk for known drunk dialers like myself).

Then there's "Eric": Again, I can't for the life of me think of a single Eric except the Eric I know in high school who always sat behind me in Pre-Calc and hit on me (and let me tell you I was not cool, so you can imagine what he must have been like).

It gets stranger from here. I have an entry for "Pasta". ?? What the hell? I've never known anyone called Pasta, I don't know any restaurant called Pasta, and I though I do love spaghetti, I sure as hell don't call it on a regular basis.

Nor do I call "Yogurt". I don't even know of any yogurt crisis hotline, so this one just defies all explanation.

And there's "Pet". I only have two pets and neither of them owns a cell phone, so I don't know what to say about this.

Last but not least, there's "Tree". I cannot recall a single time I have ever been so smitten with a tree that I put it in my phone book.

Now, I am sure there are some good explanations. I could have been drunk when I added them and, for example, entered "Pet" instead of Patricia or something (not likely because I am so rarely drunk these days). Someone could have stolen my phone, or I could have a prankster (somewhat more likely). Or, and probably most likely of all, I enter these things thinking, "Now, I'll know what this is when I see it." But I don't, which is why I am Penile.

Welcome Home

Today was a big day for me- I finally got Internet access. Nevermind that I was supposed to also have satellite TV complete with DVR (I have too many trees apparently). I am thrilled to be back and feel connected again. So, I thought I would show you guys photos of my house...it's not the cleanest right now, but you'll at least get some idea of what it looks like.

So here is the sun porch:

This is the kitchen (well, parts of it anyway) :

Now on to the living room:

Then the dining room:

Dining room, part 2 (it's huge):

And here's the bathroom:

And finally, my bedroom:

My bedroom closet:

So there you have it- my humble abode. I forgot to take a picture of the most important thing though- the computer on the desk in the bedroom which is finally all ready to go!

An eye opening kind of love...

I have a confession to make: I have a teeny little crush on my optometrist. He has children and I think he’s single, but I’m not interested in pursuing this. Although he claims I’m his most interesting patient (he told me that not long ago), I’m sure he wouldn’t know me if we passed on the street. In fact, the anonymity of the whole thing is part of what appeals to me. He’s a great guy, well traveled, and he makes good money (he just expanded his practice). But my favorite thing about him is how excited he gets when he talks about eyes. He loves them. He loves to look at them, he loves to draw them, and he loves to talk about them. What’s not to like about that? Maybe common interest is overrated. Maybe what’s really needed in passion. Passion about anything, even eyes.

Anyway, I have an appointment with him tomorrow. I’ll keep you posted.

New house, new schmouse

For those of you unaware, I purchased a house about a month ago. It wasn't the 202 Carolina that I may have mentioned, however. It's a little ~ 100 year old cottage in Alton. If I could have built a house, I probably would have built one very similiar to this so I guess you could call it my little dream house.

So what do I have to say about buying a house? It's scary. Even when everything goes relatively smoothly (of course mine didn't, but if it had), it seems like such a HUGE decision to make. And it's not something you can just get out of easily if you change your mind, either. can see what you're thinking..."why did you change your mind?" I didn't. But if I wanted to, I couldn't. Not for a while anyway. So me and this house are together for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. It gives me a near panic attack almost every evening when I'm sitting there reading or listening to NPR (can't afford cable TV or the Internet yet). But in the mornings when I wake up and go sit out on the sun porch with my coffee and look out over my back yard with the birds (and sometimes my 2 owls), I think, "yep, this is how it's supposed to be."

More later, off to pick up my new foster Great Dane Harley.

The Intriguing Possibility of the Unknown

So you may not be surprised to hear that someone wants to set me up on a blind date. I heard once that you know what your friends really think of you by the kind of person they set you up with. This has not been an uncommon occurrence in my lifetime and so far, the results have all been the same: stunning unsuccess. It seems that many people think they know someone “just perfect” for me (or vice versa)…but when it comes time for the two “perfect” people to meet and fall madly in love, something goes terribly awry. The reason I always agree, though, is because I cannot begin to claim that I am more successful if left to my own devices. Usually I go for the most unlikely candidate possible, and then am unrealistically disappointed that it doesn’t work. Let me give you some examples:

In college I dated someone 13 years older than me. We were generationally incompatible, it turns out, and though we have revisited the subject a couple different times, this past episode {post 12.29.05} has proven to me that we are altogether incompatible to be mates of any other kind than the Australian version.

I also dated a farmer 10 years older than me. He was (and is) a really decent, nice, caring, cute person. He was very sweet to me, and won me over by secretly picking peonies from his yard and putting them in my car whenever I would come to his house for “game night” (which was, and is, every Monday night). My mom loved him (I think she could see a younger version of herself marrying him). I was attracted to him, but we had such different takes on life that I wasn’t sure we were compatible. In the end I screwed everything up by running away with no explanation at all (partially thanks to the above relationship- I just felt things weren’t over yet there). To this day I don’t think he has any idea what happened. I have often wondered if he would be interested in re-visiting the subject, but feel I treated him very badly (in my defense I was young) and I am sure he wouldn’t give me the time of day, although we do still talk from time to time.

There was the resident in the PICU who completely fooled me. He spent unreasonable amounts of time in whatever room I happened to be in, he was always talking to me, asking me whether I had seen this movie or been to that restaurant, etc. I didn’t even think anything of it until about half the unit kept asking me if we had something going on. He was smart, not bad looking, funny, ambitious, and culturally versed…I started thinking about pursuing it, was convinced he liked me (after the incessant prodding of half the unit), and before I could do anything someone in the unit approached him about me (while I was in earshot, no less!!). I heard him say, “Oh, she’s really nice, I’d be happy to have her number.” The girl gave him my number and he called promptly that evening to inform me that he was in the process of undergoing an arranged marriage. Hmmm. Either that is the most creative excuse I have ever heard, or I have some really bad luck.

These experiences have left me somewhat disillusioned with entrusting myself with the job of finding my own mate, and I have given up. I pretty much operate on the principle of “things will work out” and try not to think about it too much. So far that principle doesn’t work, but one can always be optimistic. Still, I cannot refuse the occasional blind date, at least just to see what my friends/co-workers really think of me.

I'm baaaaaaaaack!

I was taking a break from us for a while. You see, sometimes I need my personal space, but I don't have the heart to tell you that. You always take things so personally, and it really has nothing to do at all with you. It' s me. I just wanted to see how it felt to be free again, not burdened by all your unrealistic expectations. And you know what?

It sucked. I like you, you demanding, greedy fools. And I guess if I'm to judge by the little incessant "reminders" to update my page that I have gotten in person, via e-mail, via the cell phone and yes, even via the blog itself, someone other than me actually reads this stuff from time to time.

So here I am, at your service. Whatever shall we discuss first?

Would you know that stupid house at 202 Carolina Ave still isn't on the market? It's starting to make me mad. Maybe I should write a letter...

I have an appointment with a mortgage broker next week. I have to tell you something kind of funny though: I scheduled that day very carefully. My biggest fear is that the mortgage broker will take one look at my pittance of a salary and how much student loan debt I have and basically tell me that it's out of the question for me to own a house. So I scheduled myself to spend the early part of the day with an anesthesiologist at work so that I can console myself with thoughts of the $160,000+ a year I could make with only two more years of school (to be a CRNA).

By the way, the consulate in Chicago will be getting the first card from me shortly. Of course I'll be sure and keep you informed should I get any sort of reply.

My ailing Maddie Mae

Maddie was sick this morning...vomiting and diarrhea. She was so nervous that she'd messed in the house that she was beside herself. When I let her outside she puked and puked and wouldn't come in. Finally, after she was done I made a little bed for her on the front porch (which has wipable surfaces) and left a big bowl of water for her. She has been fine this evening so far so I'm hoping she's over whatever it was. It was a crummy feeling this morning, though, having to leave her (for work) when I wasn't sure what was going on with her or if she would be okay. Kids I can deal with...with dogs I am sort of lost. I mean, how do you even know for sure if they have a fever? I doubt she would appreciate me shoving a rectal thermometer in while she's puking...I guess you gotta do what you gotta do, though.

By the way, my brother told me recently that he and his wife are pregnant again with #2. Their first is only 7 months old, so it was sort of a surprise but I'm happy for them and my brother is obviously thrilled. So soon I'll have 3 nephews or 2 nephews and a niece, depending on which this turns out to be.

I'm kind of hoping it's a girl...it would be nice, since the other 2 are boys, but my main concern is just that it's healthy- ever since I've worked in the PICU and have seen the worst of the worst genetic anomalies, I have become VERY cautious in my hopes and wants. I guess it probably just comes with the territory, I don't know.

Anyway, the garden looked great when I checked it out before leaving town this weekend. everything is growing and looking good so far...let's keep our fingers crossed that this continues.

Bike Update

Here's an update on the bike scheme: what a fabulous idea!! And I have decided that I do not need the Springer Dog Jogger device (a bicycle attachment for jogging your dog alongside) after all. Just tying her leash around my waist as we go is working out well so far. She loved it, and it was pretty fun. I saw a couple drivers smiling when they passed us (they may have been laughing, I don't know), I think it was probably kind of funny. A couple things- I bought her a harness today, as I don't like the thought of her neck getting tugged when I change directions suddenly. I also have to teach her how to recognize a verbal command for turning left and right, and to speed up and slow down. I think she'll catch on pretty quickly, and I think it would be safer than just hoping she's paying attention when I make a turn.

Overall, though, I'm pleased.

Also, my garden looks great. The peppers are blossoming, the lettuce is getting bigger, and the tomatoes are even taller now. The cabbage has new little leaves on it, and the radishes and beans are finally sprouting. Everything looks pretty good.

That's pretty much it.

202 Carolina Avenue

Well, I have found my first real house. It doesn't matter in the slightest that it's not even on the market yet, or that I have no idea how expensive it will be. It's absolutely perfect for me. If I had a way to post a photo (hint, hint), I'd be able to show you all just how perfect it is. But for now you'll have to settle for my description.

It's a small cottage size place on a short, quiet, well-kept avenue full of small, neat little houses. You'll find no grotesque, oversized and charmless goliath houses here. Instead you'll see small places with charm and character. There are fully mature trees making shady havens in the sun, and little white fences that good-naturedly divide one neighbor from the next. My house (202 Carolina Avenue) is small, with khaki colored siding, and white trim. There is a huge shade tree in the front yard just begging to have some hostas planted beneath it. Red brick stairs invite you up on the porch (which seems custom made for two giant hanging ferns reminiscent of the south). There are smaller windows to the left of the house which I imagine to be a kitchen where I could stand and look out into my front yard while I'm doing dishes. To the right of the front side of the house is another set of windows (a living room, maybe?) and a red brick chimney (you know I couldn't live in a house without a fireplace). The back yard is fenced in, which is perfect for Maddie.

I haven't been inside, obviously, so I can't say what it looks like. But I just have a feeling it will be equally adorable. I just hope it's not $80,000-90,000 adorable. $65,000 adorable is doable. So keep your fingers crossed, as I know (via a sign in the front yard) that it'll be on the market soon.

I have half a mind to forward my mail to that address as a good omen. Do you think that would be presumptuous of me?

A new bike, and a new scheme...

Well, so far the vegetable garden seems to be holding its own. But plants aren't the only things rearing their little heads into this world...Andrea and Bill had their baby Will (I don't know if they're going to call him Bill, Billy, Willy, Will, or William, so I just chose one that I like) yesterday at roughly 5pm. Andrea, of course, had as lovely a childbirth as one could possibly expect given what must take place in the natural course of the process. Both mom and baby are doing well and there's a proud new papa in Gillespie right about now. Actually, I think they all three made it home today to spend their first night together in their house. They make such a cute little family. I'll post photos if I can ever get my stupid laptop wireless connection going again. If anyone wants to send me another wireless notebook card and router, that would be great. But judging from the fact that no one ever sent me the book I requested back in March, I guess none of you love me that much.

Just kidding.

So what did I do today? I bought a bike. It's not fancy- I didn't need any of the gears or handbreaks or anything, so it's pretty basic and that suits me just fine. I still have the helmet I bought and decorated when Andrea and I decided that rollerblading would be a good workout and that we'd probably get pretty good with some practice. We never got good, and we never practiced, so the poor helmet got stashed away with all the other things I never use but can't throw away. Now I can dust it off and strap it on again. I don't care that there are foam letters and cutouts all over it. I am not easily embarassed.

So what's the plan with the bike? More physical activity that can include my dog. I have recently concluded that she must be part border collie. I always suspected, since she is such a spaz, but I thought maybe, just maybe, she'd settle down. Now I can say with some degree of confidence (since she is now almost 3 and 1/2) that this is unlikely to ever happen. What she needs is to run. A lot. Then she won't have the energy to be such a spastic ball of relentless energy. At least, that's my hope. Since there is no way that my energy level for running could ever match hers, I thought I'd add wheels underneath me and see what I could do. Initially I did consider rollerblading (quickly dismissed because I cannot see myself ever being able to go fast enough to do her any good), and building a little wagon setup so she could pull me around at high speeds (also quickly dismissed due to the ridiculousness quotient). At one point (I am genuinely embarrassed to admit this) I even considered driving my car somewhat slowly while holding a leash and running her alongside it. But that's obviously too dangerous, and I need the exercise, too, so finally I settled on biking because I can go fairly fast, and for long distances. She is in for it now, I tell you. She is going to be the most fit dog in Madison County after I'm through with her. People will comment on what a docile, laid back dog I have all the while unaware what lengths I have gone to in order to achieve what appears to be a calm temperament.

The first "run" is tomorrow evening, and I will most definitely keep you posted. I would be happy to post accompanying photos, but someone has to send me a notebook card and router first...

Entertainment like that is surely worth it, don't you think?

Freud or Farming?

If you read the previous recent posts (before Alaska) you know that I haven't exactly been shy about how my whole family situation has affected me emotionally. I have continued to struggle with myself and my thoughts regarding the situation, and was close to making an appointment to see a counselor who could help me sort through all of it so that I could have some clarity in the matter. I may do that yet, I don't know. But I'll tell you what's helped most of all: gardening. Yep, you read right. I planted a garden in the hopes that the hard physical work and the distraction would help me sort of work through the situation a bit. It's incredible that working with dirt can really work out all sorts of frustrations. I gardened for six hours the other day, and as a result, I have planted a vegetable garden containing: eggplant, cauliflower, romaine lettuce, asparagus, cabbage, rhubarb, tomatoes, 4 varieties of peppers, cucumbers, zucchini, and yellow squash. Going back today to water and weed I just stood there looking at it with a feeling of accomplishment. Tomorrow I plan to plant my herb garden which will have: basil, parsley, oregano, marjoram, thyme, rosemary, chives, and sage.

And I have to say that things are looking up. It's not that I've reached some great understanding or acceptance of the way things are, but my frustration level with the whole thing has dramatically lessened.

So it seems that Mother Earth makes a pretty fine counselor, indeed.

Anyone?

Anyone out there ever been to/heard of Plano, Texas? Wanna tell me about it? I'm all ears...

It's all over...

Well, this is it. Our trip is done, and before long we'll be homeward bound. This trip, like nearly everything, was not what we expected. In fact, I can't even remember anymore just exactly what I did expect. But now I've been to Alaska, and I can honestly say that I know Anchorage really well. It was not a wasted trip. Over a lovely dinner of grilled fish and micro-brewed beer last night we both agreed that we'd made the best of what we were given. The skiing was really the highlight of the trip, and the scenery really is breathtaking- besides that, in April there's not much beyond the usual tourist-trap shops and some quite good restaurants. I think we're both happy to go home. Actually, I know it for a fact. And what's funny is that nothing will have changed when I get back home...but, then, isn't that the point of home?

I guess for the actual trip home, I have just one hope. I don't want to hear another announcement like the one we heard as we were flying in for our landing at Anchorage...it went like this: "Ladies and gentlemen, you're on your own. It's too turbulent for the flight attendants to be walking around in the cabin, so you'll have to prepare yourselves for the landing."
And this while the plane is rocking violently back and forth in the seconds before actually landing. If I can avoid this scenario again, I'll have nothing left to complain about.

Have a great Saturday, everyone.

Where has all the wildlife gone?

We've now been here for 8 days, and let's see what I can tell you about Alaska:

1. Alaskan drivers are almost as rude as Missouri drivers
2. This is one of the most beautiful states I've ever seen
3. There is wildlife here. At least I think there is. I mean, that's what everyone keeps telling us, anyway.
4. There are more espresso huts per capita than anywhere else I've been
5. The rate of rape in Anchorage is the highest rate rape of anywhere in the nation. Do I need to remind you that the male: female ratio is 2:1?

So we had a couple fun-packed days on Tuesday and Wednesday. Tuesday we drove to the ski resort town of Aleyaska on a mission to hike and have fun, damnit! So we picked a trail and decided to hike a total of 4.5 snow covered wilderness miles. Signs and people told us that we may encounter bears and/or moose. But we were determined to experience the great Alaskan outdoors, and so we pushed onward. I whistled for a long time to alert any wildlife to the fact that we were coming. I needn't have bothered- the wildest creature we saw was a *gasp* squirrel. And I'm telling you, we were in some pretty remote land...we didn't see another human being (or any signs that anyone besides us had been trecking around there in the snow) for the entire 4 hour jaunt. We did see a spectacular gorge that had crytsal clear water rushing through it and huge icicles hanging on the sides. And in case you're wondering: hiking in the snow is even harder than hiking in the sand- we kept breaking through the snow up to our knees and having to pull ourselves up and out. During one part, we were required to hike dangerously close to a very steep ledge covered with ice. For this, we developed the butt scoot method whereby you sit on your butt and scoot past anything remotely dangerous while whistling like a lunatic to make sure the moose and bear (or, in our case, the squirrels) know that you're coming.

Anyway, the next day we went back to the ski resort- this time to ski with the help of our faithful instructor Ruth. For two hours she patiently taught us how to ski on one foot, then the other, then both, then stopping and turning, etc. Tiffany got frustrated because instead of being allowed to practice what we'd learned, Ruth kept coming up with different things for us to try. By the end of the lesson, I was ready to go, and Tiffany was fed up. We ate lunch at the lodge, and I talked her into trying it one more time (sans Ruth). That was the trick! Without Ruth, she was able to convince her left leg to OBEY (damnit!) and turn her in the direction she wanted (instead of the left leg getting all the say). By the end, she was swooping and stopping like the best of them- and we have the video footage to prove it. One of these days we're going to send it to Ruth.
For my part, I have to admit that I never learn my lesson. I broke my knee several years ago when I was skiing for the first time after I insisted that I was ready for the bigger hill. After our lesson with Ruth this time, I skiied the baby hill again and again and was finally sure that I was ready for the ski lift (despite the fact that Ruth had not been able to show us how to get on/off the lifts). I went to ask the ski lift guy how to do it, but to do that you had to approach him and risk the danger of the lift swooping behind you and carrying you off before you're ready. That's what happened to me, and I ended up yelling to the guy that I didn't know how to get off as I was being carried up the mountain. The trip up was nice (kinda high, so a little scary), and I assured myself that I would just do whatever the person in front of me did. He got off and skiied down the little lift slope and was gone. When my turn came, I eased off the lift and promtly fell backwards and skidded down the lift hill. I looked up to see the ski lift guy trying to hide his laughter. I told him it was my first time, and that the instructor hadn't shown us how to get off the lift. Then I asked him which run I should go down (as a complete beginner). He said, "If you want the beginner slope, go that way. But if you want to go slow, take this [moderate difficulty] hill." So I decided that, above all, I needed to go slow. Down the moderate difficultly slope I went. But it was anything but slow. I was skiing at what felt like 45mph, and was dangerously out of control. I tried to make a wedge (as Ruth had shown us) to slow myself, but no matter how wedged I got or how hard I dug my skiis in, I wasn't slowing down at all. I tried so hard that I ended up on my ass and then on my back skidding down the hill at an impressive rate. I nearly took out two skiiers ahead of me, I was going so fast. But I eventually stopped, got back up and skiied VERY carefully down the rest of the way.

Needless to say, that day was finished on the baby hill.

My time is up, more later.

So this is Anchorage...

After a couple harrowing experiences flying (and some awe-inspring volcanic activity as a backdrop), we have finally arrived in Anchorage. And what first greeted us in the airport lobby? Two fierce looking polar bears (I TOLD you all there were polar bears in Alaska!!). So we're here, then. We were exhausted last night and after unpacking quickly in our very non-luxurious (but perfectly comfortable) hotel/hostel/bed and breakfast, we ate some ramen noodles and popcorn. We nearly broke the sink in the kitchen (I use the term "kitchen" very loosely here...it's quite interesting, really), and the microwave is too small to allow for the expansion of a bag of microwave popcorn, but we're happy. It works. And it's only $18 a night. We are centrally located, but we've come to learn a thing or two about what that means here. Does it really matter if you're centrally located if there's nothing going on in the center? So we've decided to rent a car, because there has to be more to Alaska than what we've seen so far (besides the Glacier Brewhouse, which we loved). So tomorrow we're going to the slopes to witness the "Big Air" competition and perhaps do a little skiing and/or snowshoeing. We may even enter the snowshoeing competition that's open to the public. After all, at this point, we may be expert snowshoers and we just don't know it. Either way, we've got nothing to lose.

More later...(maybe a trophy of some kind, even...)

Alaska, here we come!!

Tomorrow at 1:55 pm, Tiffany and I will board a plane headed to Anchorage. We have packed our bags, consulted travel guides, and sought the advice of those who've been there before. We know the weather, and we packed for comfort instead of style (this is Alaska, after all- survival, not style, reigns supreme). My ski pants looked so happy when I pulled them out of the closet for their first big trip. I packed every single fleece item I own, including my trusty LL Bean fleece from my junior year of high school (it has been on every single camping/outdoor vacation trip I have been on since that time). It sort of smugly covered the happy ski pants because it knew all along it would get to go. Then, I packed a couple pairs of jeans and a pair of courduroys, some long sleeve layering t-shirts, and a sweater. My LL Bean boots also get to go this time, but this is probably the only (flight) trip they'll ever go on since they weigh approximately 5 pounds and take up half the suitcase. They are on probation, so I hope they prove themselves useful.

We also packed a small suitcase of food items, since we've read that food prices are exorbitant in Alkaska, and we prefer to spend our money on activities instead of food. Not that we won't eat out- I'm sure we will. It's just that we can save a lot of money if we only eat out once a day at the most.

Activities on the agenda: skiing, snowshoeing, hiking, ice skating, the fur market, museums, and various interesting bars and microbreweries. We may even go whitewater rafting for a half-day, and take a couple day trips to other cities in a rental car. We hope to post some audio posts here so you can hear what we're doing each day and how it went.

Next time you hear from me, I'll be in Anchorage.

See you then!

No more Indigo Girls!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here's what I did today: I woke up at 4:30 am, checked to make sure I hadn't rolled over on any eggs in my sleep (? I think I must have had a dream about it, but all I can say for sure is that it was my first thought of the day), and headed downstairs for a shower. When I got out, I could have sworn I heard something moving in the basement and that freaked me out a little. Alas, coffee called and I had to make my way toward the back of the house in any case. I let Maddie outside to pee (very near said basement). Nothing got me, so I guess I imagined it. I drank my coffee as I was getting dressed and doing my makeup. Then I grabbed a banana and some peanut butter for breakfast and headed out to work. I got really annoyed with Sirius satellite radio on the way to work. I have been listening to one station (Coffeehouse) ever since I previewed them all {post 01.08.06}, but I have a major gripe. The variety, in general, is acceptable. But EVERY single morning on my way to work I have to hear an Indigo Girls song. I can't stand the Indigo Girls!! Wasting 4 precious commute minutes on that stuff is such a misery for me since I know there are a bazillion songs I would love to be hearing. Other artists I can be sure to hear at that time every morning: David Gray (love it), Tracy Chapman (love it), and Jack Johnson (I'm fine with it). Today on my two commutes I heard James Blunt's "You're Beautiful" twice. I just think that with the millions of coffeehouse type songs there are, I shouldn't have to hear the damned Indigo Girls every blasted day.

I could change the channel, I suppose, but I've misplaced my programming sheet and don't know which stations are which. I tried to be all random about it last week and ended up listening to Christian Rock. I won't be making that mistake again- I'd rather hear the Indigo Girls.

Then I drove home (again, another Indigo Girls song, though this one is one of the least painful to hear- it was Uncle John's Band. The most hated one is Kid Fears- it is truly atrocious).

I wonder why they (Sirius Coffeehouse people) don't play more Damien Rice?

Anyway, now I'm home and I'm checking in here before I go to bed. I hope to get called off tomorrow since the unit's kind of slow, but considering I was like 10th on the list today, that's a very remote possibility.

How's my near-depression, you ask? Well, I didn't cry today. In fact, I actually laughed a lot (I think my brain realized it was in a slump and to compensate it was coming up with the funniest stuff-I was cracking myself up a good part of the day, even when I was alone with no one else in close proximity). Overall my general mood was better, and my mind was a little clearer. I just hope it stays that way.

Hoping the weather's better in Alaska

It seems that I write the most when I am happy, and the big lapses come during times when I am either sick, or trying to deal with something. When I started this blog, I thought it would be good for me because it would be sort of an online journal where I could talk about everything that's happening to me- good or bad. Anyone else being interested in what I wrote was sort of just the icing on the cake. What I realized very quickly was that I can't possibly be 100% honest here, because other people can (and do) read this. Since I don't live in a bubble and most of my days are filled with interactions with other people, much of what I write involves other people. I am very cogniscent of the fact that you can't just write whatever you want about people who don't have a chance to defend themselves using the same forum (and I don't believe the "post a comment" section is sufficient). Also, some people just don't want their lives and experiences flung all over the web to be read by anyone who can stumble onto this page. But in between this balance of trying to be thoughtful and trying to be honest, there's real life and things that affect me in major ways, and I can't always edit out the things that involve other people which might upset someone. That's my disclaimer for today's topic anyway.

This past week and a half has been very hard for me. Hell, the last 4 years have been hard for me. My dad left my mom four years ago this April after a 32 year marriage, for reasons I choose not to discuss. For those people who say that this kind of stuff is easier to deal with when your kids are grown- don't buy that. It changed every single aspect of our family dynamic, in ways that are still revealing themselves. It left my mom alone and grieving at a time in her life when she should have been preparing to retire and enjoy the golden years of her life. In some ways it has cast a shadow over everything we do together as a family. But we're human and adaptable and moving on sometimes becomes a choice you don't get the luxury of making. In some ways I think it's made some of us much closer. But that's the only good part of any of it.

So this week I discovered, among other things, that my dad is getting remarried. It's the other things that make this so hard, but I can't discuss them here. I never would have predicted that this would have hit me so hard. For the last week, I have been really struggling to avoid a depression of some kind. I don't know if I am succeeding with that or not. I do know that my stress level has reached its max, and I am exhausted. I keep having thoughts of just moving away from my life. The other day all day long I kept thinking about moving to Georgia. For some reason, the South sounded really good. It felt like if I could just pick up and move away, I could get a fresh new start. Later that day I heard someone with a southern accent on NPR and I cried. I've cried a lot in the last week- mostly just fleeting, resigned sort of tears. I don't even have the will to respond to my dad's news at all.

I certainly haven't had the energy to post an entry here, so maybe this is a good sign. Or maybe I just needed an outlet that silently absorbs what I have to say. Either way, I just felt it fair to at least make a presence and offer some sort of explanation for my silence.

I leave for Alaska this Friday, and I've really been trying to shift gears and prepare myself- this is supposed to be fun, after all. I just don't want to be so desperate for a break from all this that I inadvertantly ruin it. My mom said last night that she already misses me. Somehow that made me feel worse.

More Super Saver Gloating

In keeping with my self-appointed Walgreens Super Saver Platinum status, I have just spend $130 buying stuff that I probably don't need (but lots of freebies in there, and I should be getting a good $70 of it back). Among the purchases this month:

Bayer low dose aspirin, enteric coated: it's never too early to be heart healthy
Women's One a Day Vitamins: see above, but delete the "heart"
Duct tape bandages: ugly as can be, but I'm sure they stick well
eye wrinkle cream: a recurrent recent fear of mine (along with varicose veins) is the fear of leathery, wrinkly eye skin. yuck.
tampax tampons and such: pretty self-explanatory
toothbrush and toothpaste: seriously, if I don't get these every time they're free, I'll break my long-standing record (probably close to two years now) of not having had to ever actually pay for them
Olay in-shower body lotion: love it, love it, love it
Dove anti-perspirant + deoderant: it does not keep me from sweating (as claimed), but I sure smell pretty when I work out
Pantene extra strength conditioner: makes my hair so silky soft
Aussie 12 hour dehumidifying hairspray: if you have curly hair and you're not using this, there's something wrong with you (and, in all likelihood, your hair)
Crest anti-gingivitis mouthwash: this is not a new fear, this is a very old, deeply rooted fear of mine.
L'oreal long lasting lipstick: I've never tried theirs, so I am interested to see how it compares to other, more tried-and-true brands


Anyway, that's basically it. I am much poorer now, but in 4-6 weeks, I'll have the last laugh.

3/13/06 First Thought

For the record, my first thought today was: "Are my mineral makeup brushes dry?"

And if anyone wants to send me the book Take it Back: Our Party, Our Country, Our Future (by James Carville and Paul Bengala) please feel free. It could be a belated birthday gift. If you're too embarassed, just send it anonymously. In the words of Train (well, sort of): "I don't care how it gets to me, just get it to me."

Happy Birthday, Stupid

Well, as you know (or maybe you don't), today is my birthday. I am 26 years old now, and this does not please me. However, optimist that I am, I was determined to have a good day of it. I scheduled myself to work just so I could be around people (if I were off today, I would have stayed at home, done laundry, cleaned something, or just sat around doing nothing) and sort of enjoy it. I actually had a decent day- I had two kids that I enjoyed thoroughly, and the pace of the day couldn't have been more perfect- I was steady so as not to be bored, but never overly busy. Some of the girls ordered Chinese for a birthday lunch. Anyway, the day was nearly over when I did something that ruined all my good birthday cheer. The conversation was as follows:

Laura to attending physician Dr. Krishnan in the conference room (joking and pointing authoritatively to a diagram of organ systems): "Oh, I'm glad you showed up, I was hoping to explain some physiology to you.."

Dr. Krishnan (laughing): "Go right ahead, I never object to being taught something new, no matter the teacher."

Laura (more serious now): "You know, the other day I made a list of all the things I want to do before I die. On that list was retaking anatomy and physiology. I really regret that I didn't pay more attention- it would have really been useful to me."

Dr. Krishnan: "Don't do that, just go to med school. You told me you wanted to anyway."

Laura: "I don't think I'd get in."

Dr. Krishnan: "Why not?"

Laura: "It's sooooo competitive. My grades were good, but not that good."

Dr. Krishnan: "Go to the Caribbean then. You'll get in."

Laura: "Nah, that's for cheaters."

Just then, a female resident who has been seated at the conference room table looked up at me and said icily: "Hmmm, that's strange. I went to the Caribbean for med school and I don't consider myself a cheater."

Needless to say, all the backpedaling and creative explanation in the world could not make me appear any less of an ass.

I guess you could call me The Birthday Ass.

Maybe it means something...

I think I'm going to keep a log of my "First Thought of the Day". I never realized it before, but it's interesting to think about what topics are the first to pop into my (or anyone's for that matter) head every morning. This morning, I opened my eyes, adjusted to my surroundings, and immediately asked myself, "Do I have varicose veins?" A quick check reassured me that they had not, indeed, sprung up overnight. Relieved, I was off to take a shower and prepare for the day.

In the past week, my "First Thoughts" have ranged from the weather in Alaska {post 3.7.06}, to my eye doctor (admittedly this one makes sense since he's hot), to realizing that I inadvertently allowed my mom to eat from the same jar of Jif peanut butter that I use to dip my dog's heartworm medicine in (so that she'll take it- my dog, that is, not my mom). For those of you who are thinking to hurry and tell her so as to rat me out: don't bother, I already told her the good news- she's heartworm free.

Anyway, I am now keeping a notebook by my bed to see if there's any sort of pattern or reasoning behind what pops into my head first thing every morning. I'll keep you posted.

I am missed...

On msn.com today, I was reading about all the ways you should NOT break up with someone. One of them was "Don't do the disappearing act to prevent yourself from having to tell the other person how you feel." For a couple seconds, I was sure that a couple of my ex-boyfriends had written the author to complain. Little did I know that at that very moment, I did indeed have a message from an ex-boyfriend sitting in my inbox, and he was complaining (in a sense). He asked why we couldn't still be friends and hang out. It was something I had asked him shortly after I had broken up with him (the right way that time, at least according to msn) and he just quit calling me altogether like I had never existed. I had two equally strong reactions to that question:

(1) I was happy to hear that he still wanted to keep in touch (figuratively speaking, of course)
(2) I was scared to reply for fear of leading him on, lest he be thinking that things are going to resume

So I wrote him back and just said I didn't know why we couldn't still be friends, and I gave him my new cell phone number (618-540-4051 for those I haven't told yet) and told him he could feel free to call me sometime. Just a few hours later, he called me. It was a fine conversation, nothing too unusual. He asked me if I was doing anything Friday, and I told him that I'm working. We made some small talk, and that was that.

I was going to make a list of qualities I'm looking for in a significant other, but that's boring. Instead, I decided to make a list of things I want to do before I die (in no particular order):

1. go to Alaska (can soon cross this one off)
2. buy a house
3. learn how to play the guitar
4. take voice lessons
5. go to Tahiti
6. go to Seychelle
7. learn Spanish
8. become organized (am working on this one)
9. learn how to garden
10. write a book
11. see New York
12. Mardi Gras in New Orleans
13. move somewhere across the country
14. spend another summer in the Keys teaching scuba
15. have children
16. have my own horse(s)
17. own a Jaguar
18. go back to school for a masters
19. weigh 130 pounds (am getting there...)
20. become an avid runner
21. backpack for an extended period of time
22. learn how to sail
23. teach at a university
24. retake some physics, chemistry, and anatomy and physiology (I did fine in them, but I think I'd be more interested now that I have some medical experience)
25. learn how to rock climb
26. whitewater raft
27. drive across the country with someone (wouldn't be as much fun alone)
28. learn French
29. get married and stay that way
30. live in a foreign country for a while

I'll add to this list as I think of more. What are your lists? I'd be interested to read them...

That's all for now.

24 days until Alaska...

I woke up this morning, and the first thought I had in my head was, "what's the weather like in Alaska today?" I wonder how many other non-Alaskans had that thought when they awoke this morning?

So I am all excited about this trip. Do you know that the male to female ratio in Alaska is 2:1? That could be interesting, though I suppose the ratio of non-eccentric males to females would be drastically less. I cannot wait to meet the kind of people who would live there. Truly I think they must be a different breed of human being to inhabit the -70 degree F weather and not pack up and head south. I was reading online the other day, and was amused (and somewhat alarmed) to discover that many of the inhabitants of even the "large" city of Anchorage have bear stories. In fact, I was half-laughing with Tiffany just thinking about the fact that you actually have to worry about a moose attacking you. Moose, as I understand it, are very temperamental and dangerous creatures. Many an Alaskan have been killed by them, and not just in cars, either. They charge and then stomp and butt and kick you to death. How would you explain that to someone from the mainland?:

Alaskan: "You 'member old Percy Ipalook from Juneau?"
Floridian: "You mean the one who saved you from that polar bear that was chasing your dogsled that time?"
Alaskan: "He got himself killed last week."
Floridian: "Really? He was such a tough old guy. It wasn't the bear, was it?"
Alaskan: "Nah...moose got him. Family says he ain't even recognizable no more. They're gonna have a memorial 'cause the funeral home cain't make him presentable. Crying shame, it is. Second one this month, too."

Fear of moose and polar bear attacks would surely add a bit more flavor to life. The frigid, blood freezing cold would just be the icing on the cake, then. But you know what you'd never have to worry about in Alaska? Snakes. So I guess the one things Alaskans have in common in choosing to live/remain there is complete ignorance of snakes. Maybe we should take a rubber snake and randomly throw it down to see what the reaction is. Would they even know what it is? This could be an interesting trip...

Anyway, we leave March 31st, and will be returning on April 8th. We made reservations today at the Caribou Inn (a very inexpensive B&B)- I think the girl who answered the phone must have been an Eskimo...

Jesus is King

Jesus Ayala, that is. And King of Mexican food, to be more specific. This little Mexican guy who makes food on a stove in the back of his van just rolled into Alton about 2 months ago (though he says he's been cooking like this for 20 years). He's awesome. Very animated little guy, very friendly and knowledgeable about Mexican food. And man, that food is something. Cheap, too. I spent $2 on a jalapeno fajita, and it was probably the best fajita I've ever had. And to seal the deal, he listens to NPR while he cooks.

Can't beat that with a stick, now can you?

Like that night we got kicked out of two bars...

Last night was a great night, one of those you end up bringing up whenever you're telling funny party stories. An old friend from Mizzou (Chirag) called Andrea last week and said that he was coming to Alton to party with us, and that he'd already bought his plane ticket. We were also going to be joined by two other old college friends, Bill and Stefanie. So Andrea called me and told me to make sure I left that weekend free because we were about to experience some serious partying. I was not disappointed.

We met for dinner at Big Muddy Pub in Alton. Chirag and Bill decided they didn't want to eat much because they wanted to be able to maximize their absorption of alcohol. So Chirag had two stuffed mushrooms, and Bill had a cup of shrimp gumbo and two small crabcakes (which he tried forcing both Stefanie and I to eat). Here's Bill with his crabcake:

At this point Andrea's parents were with us, and her dad, Andrea's husband Bill, and Bill McClain were all drinking whiskey (Bill and Bill had theirs in Coke). But they soon decided that they needed more whiskey and less Coke so the waitress began bringing them doubles with just a shot of Coke in them. Here are the two Bills with their doubles:

After a number of toasts (one every 5-10 minutes or so), it became obvious that the Maximum Absorption Theory was a success, and we were beginning to annoy the other people in the restaurant. Andrea's parents decided to leave, as her father was already tipsy from the straight whiskey he'd been drinking. The boys loved him, and that was further solidified by his, "Praise Allah!" closing remark to Chirag as he was leaving.

P.S. After this picture was taken, Bill M. came over to me and was so proud of himself because he said he could feel that he'd had a good smile in this picture.

Chirag, by this point, was at his peak and was hamming it up while trying to get our waitress to give him some action:

Bill M tried to warn Chirag that it may not work, and then resigned himself to the fact that Chirag was going to do what he wanted:

Sadly, despite the donning of his good red shirt later in the evening, a romance between the two of them was not to be...her refusal left Chirag visibly upset:Recovering quickly, Chirag turned his attention to Stefanie:

At last, Stefanie was no longer amused:

But Andrea was:

Two refusals spurned Chirag to try more familiar territory. Here, he proposes to Bill M.:

After that, it seemed as though love was in the air. Chirag and Andrea got close:

Chirag and Bill M. got close:

Chirag and I got close (after he tried to slay my head 3 times with a paper napkin, that is):

A reconciliated Chirag and Stefanie got close (note his "lucky" red shirt):

Chirag and Bill H. got close:

Bill H. and Bill M. got close:

Andrea and Bill H got very close:

Bill M and I got close (he was sure this was another great smile to be proud of):

A still lonely Chirag got close with himself:

After getting kicked out of Don and Penny's because Bill M. tried to act like a bouncer and refuse admission to a girl who looked like she could kick his butt, we found ourselves (minus Andrea and Bill H) at Mac's Time Out, where Bill M rediscovered all his old dancing moves (after nearly getting kicked out again):

After an evening of fun, Stefanie and I decided to retire at the Holiday Inn in Alton with our two very worn out Dancing Queens:

In short, a good time was had by all.

Mardi Gras Goodness

Wow. It's been a while, huh? I'll try to catch you up the best I can, starting with last Saturday (where I left off). After my dog broke my computer, I went to Mardi Gras in St. Louis. It was awesome. I was a little crabby at first because of all the people (we were all packed like sardines on the streets), and the fact that this little Asian guy on a pole ruined any chance of my getting some beads in the normal, clean sort of way (i.e. no flashing). Here he is, greedy little bead thief.

I met a couple friends of my older sister Jennifer. Turns out they were awesome, as well. Melissa has been named an honorary sister of ours because we liked her so much, and her husband Brian made me laugh so hard all day that my stomach hurt. Seriously, he was one of the funniest people I've met in a long time. Here we all are with some random guy and girl who dressed up as Captain and Mrs. Morgan.

From left to right: me, Jennifer, Captain Morgan, Mrs. Morgan, Melissa, and Brian. We were all nicely buzzed at the time due to the plentiful pitchers, as demonstrated by Jennifer below:

We eventually met up with my friend Tiffany, who lives in Soulard. At some point, I left with Tiffany to use the bathroom in her apartment, and ended up doing three jello shots with her before heading back out to catch some more Soulard action. Here we are in her kitchen after the jello shots.

This next picture is my brother in law, and our new friend Brian. They are Mardi-cool, as you can tell. Wonder how Carey got all those beads?

After Mardi Gras, we went home and ate pizza and played some Playstation. It was one of the most fun days I've had in a while.