Friday, August 31, 2007

Two Roads Diverged...

I read a book today that I recommend everyone read. It was called Girl With a Pearl Earring. It's by Tracy Chevalier. They made a movie of it last year, I believe. Anyway, in this book the main character, Griet, talks about an 8-pointed star set into the ground in the city. Each of the points, obviously, leads a person to a different part of the city and a different occurence in Griet's day and life.

I feel as though I'm standing in the middle of this 8-pointed star. I have so many choices in front of me right now, and yet I have no idea which direction I want to take. This isn't necessarily a choice between right or wrong, good or bad, pass or fail. This is more a matter of good, better, or best. None of the paths from my star are a wrong decision, it's about deciding which right choice is the best choice for me.
None of the paths are strewn with rose petals. They all will require some hard work, elbow grease, the need to get a little dirty, and possibly some heavy lifting to clear obstacles out of my way. This doesn't scare me. I was raised not to fear hard work, but to embrace it. The part that scares me is that once I start something I don't give up on it. My purely stubborn nature won't allow me to admit defeat, turn back, and try another path. Whichever one I take I will devote myself to 100%.
So I stand in the center of my star, turn slowly in a circle, and wonder...
Which way do I go?

Thursday, August 23, 2007

I have a patient tonight that I have not-so-affectionately named The Vampire. She's one of those emotionally needy people that sucks the life right out of you. Now, a certain level of neediness I can handle, but this woman just takes...and takes...and takes. I fear by the time 7 am rolls around I won't have anything left to give.

I learned today that I'm a red personality. Now, considering the above paragraph, and how well the 3 or 4 people that read my blog know me, this shouldn't be a surprise to any of us. The woman leading the class seemed shocked, and somewhat appalled, at my test results. She said that generally reds go into the business world. They apparently make fantastic real estate agents, CEO's, and managers. I love it when I throw off people's perceptions on how things should be.

There was a woman in the cafeteria tonight with fuschia hair. Now, she wasn't just any woman...she was a nurse. And it wasn't just any kind of fuschia was fuschia grandma-poof. Pretty much amazing. I wonder, though, just how professional that is. I know if I showed up to work with fuschia hair it would raise a lot more eyebrows, and complaints, than this particular woman. Maybe she works somewhere like the nursery where the patients don't know any different.

I'm currently listening to my favorite song in the whole world. It makes me feel all gushy inside. I'm such a girly girl sometimes. It actually makes me want to be proposed to in a cute way. Hell, it actually makes me want to be propsed to. Weird.

I need to remember not to eat a full meal in the middle of the night. I couldn't help it, though, the bacon cheeseburger looked so good. Yes, children, despite eating like that I've still managed to lose 10 pounds since I moved home.

I need a vacation.

Well, that's all for tonight, friends. Until next time.
Much love.

Friday, August 17, 2007

My List of Demands

I want to say something important but I don't know what it is.

I want to take care of those around me, but sometimes people need to take care of themselves.

I want to wear hot shoes as often as possible.

I want to use music to tell others how I'm feeling.

I want people to look at me and think, "She's not perfect, but she's beautiful anyway."

I want to make my mark on the world.

I want to deliver babies in a third world country.

I want to laugh, or cry, whenever I feel so inclined.

I want to cook for my friends.

I want to hold hands.

I want to dance in the rain.

I want to climb mountains.

I want to wake up next to the man I love everyday.

I want to experience holding my newborn child in my arms.

I want to sing along, even if I don't know the words.

I want to be the kind of person others can rely on.

I want to eat pasta in Italy.

I want to jump out of an airplane.

I want to say "I love you" and not feel ashamed about it.

I want to be a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

I want to see those I love happy.

I want to be a great nurse.

I want to get flowers on Valentines Day.

I want to be a teacher, both by word and example.

I want to be the kind of person that others love to be around.

I want to write a book.

I want people to know I care.

I want to hug and be hugged.

I want to live near the ocean, at least for a little while.

I want to document my whole life through photographs.

I want to not take my life for granted.

I want to be comfortable in my own skin.

I want to paint every room in my house a different color.

I want to be the best me I can be.

I want to live, laugh, and love everyday.

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Musings on Matrimony

I took a friend to the instacare this week. We walked in and stepped up to the desk to speak to the check-in woman. After my friend told her that he wasn't feeling well, etc, she turns to me and asks if I have our insurance cards. I smile sweetly (hard for me to do) while he says, "I have my insurance cards right here." She looks confused for a moment and then it dawns on her that she's just made a wrong assumption: that he and I were married.

Lately, due to experiences like the one recounted above and some experiences in the lives of people close to me, I've been thinking quite a bit about the subject of marriage. I've come to the conclusion that I am utterly terrified of it. I don't think this is normal for a girl of my age, social position, religion, etc. Let's be honest, most of my friends from high school and college have already crossed the great divide into the state of wedded bliss. Several of them have been that way for a few years. I'm happy with my life the way it is. I've got a college degree, a great career, fabulous friends, and the time to experience pretty much anything I want to.

So why do I feel so much pressure to get married?

I know deep down inside it'll come for me, too, someday. I hope by that time I'm ready. I don't deal well with surprises... Or big changes. I only pray that the man who finally wants to settle down with me is patient enough to hold my hand and wait out the storm that's sure to come with a change of that magnitude.

Mostly I just see so many girls my age, and younger even, getting married because they think it'll solve all their problems. I pray everyday that I'm smarter than that. I even know of a few girls that, in my opinion, are getting married because it's what all their friends are doing and they don't want to be left behind. I know I'm smarter than that. I just hope that when the time comes I'm smart enough to get married to the right man for the right reasons.

So what's my point? I don't have one. I just needed to work through some of the clutter in my brain.

Much love!

Friday, August 10, 2007

Two in a row? You'd better believe it...

A new update before the regularly scheduled post: I just read that President James E. Faust passed away about an hour ago. I just want to take a moment to remember a wonderful man who had a very personal connection to my life. President Faust is the man that essentially converted and baptized my Grandma Hatch. Without this man's influence in my family my life would probably be very different today. Also, as an extremely insecure 14 year old girl, he once told me I was beautiful and to never let anyone else tell me differently. May we all remember this great and wonderful man and strive to live the things he taught and so thoroughly exemplified in his own life.

So, I don't know why I feel so posessed to write 2 days in a row, but I do, so y'all get to suffer through it with me. Ah, the joys of being my friend, eh?

My boss asked me this week to be a "unit champion" of a new program we're instituting among our staff. It's called Healing Connections and essentially it's a program that teaches nurses and other hospital staff how to interact with their patients and coworkers. She apparently thinks I've got the right personality and attitude to not only master this particular program but to effectively teach it to the other staff members I work with. When she first asked me to do this I sort of laughed and responded with, "You have met me, right?" Guess we'll see how it goes, if nothing else I'll get paid to attend some trainings and I just might come out of it all learning something new and useful. I do find it a little silly, though, that someone has copyrighted and marketed the basics of talking to a patient.

I'm wearing my hot pink scrubs again. What I realized on my way out the door for work tonight, though, is that my purse also happens to match said scrubs. I'm even wearing pink shoes. This might be a little overboard. My dad called me The Pink Lady. The pink memo apparently went out to the rest of the staff as well considering that there were 4 other girls wearing pink scrubs tonight too.

I've decided that things happen when you least expect them to. Just when you think you've got the game under control life throws you a curve-ball. I'm not saying this is a bad thing, I happen to know how to hit a home run off a curve-ball. I just find it interesting that as soon as I get too content with where my life is the changes start. This is good. I like change. I think it keeps things interesting, and keeps me from becoming lazy and complacent.

I met a nurse tonight that told me he could get me in to see the right people to get me a job in the operating room. This is my dream for my career, and I'm strongly considering using this connection in the near future. I'll have to think on this for a bit. Please, share your thoughts as well.

Butch Walker is the man. If you're not familiar with him you should become so. His music is real, simple, awesome to sing along to, not to mention he put on the best live concert I've ever been to. Someday I'll meet him and my life will be complete.

I had a patient try and grope me tonight. I never thought this would occur in my pink scrubs. They must make me look extra-curvaceous and not as pregnant as my others (Not that I am pregnant, scrubs just make me seem that way).

Well, I feel as though I've relieved some of my strange compulsion to write. Hope you all enjoyed this little piece of what's occuring in my mind at any given moment.

Much love!

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

A Note of Thanks

It's been an eventful week, but at the same time not particularly blog-worthy. In the style of my other friends that blog I'm just going to take a few moments and expound upon how grateful I am for good friends.

One of the hardest things for me when I moved back to Salt Lake from St. George was leaving behind my friends. I felt as though I'd found a place where I fit in, where I could be myself and be appreciated for it, where my friends were more than that...they were my family. For several weeks after I moved home I struggled with a homesickness so overpowering that I wanted nothing more than to move back to the scorching heat of a St. George summer. In the (somewhat modified) words of David Duchovny in Return to Me, "I love my Salt Lake friends, but I ache for my 'family'." A lot of this changed when I returned for a visit. As I drove the last little stretch of highway over the black ridge I knew deep down inside that Salt Lake was where I needed to be. Thank goodness for small reassurances.

Now, don't get me wrong, I still dearly love and miss my friends down south. They are irreplaceable (I'm making up words again, I know) in my heart and my mind. I learned things from them, and experienced things with them, that I know would never have been a part of my life otherwise. I doubted I would ever feel as at home among a group of friends as I did with them...until this past week.

In the past few weeks I've slowly been introduced to some new people. They are just as loving, accepting, understanding, and caring as my St. George-ians. I don't know them well yet, but I feel I get to know them more everyday, and for this opportunity I am truly grateful. My horizons have been broadened, my heart and eyes have been opened, and my life once again feels full. A 'thanks' is much in order for my new friends: Thank you for letting me love you, thank you for allowing me to be who I am and appreciating and accepting me for it. Thank you for the laughter. Thank you for welcoming me with open arms and allowing me to become part of your lives. Thank you, most of all, for being you.

And on that note I'll go dry my eyes, because after all I'm just a silly, sentimental girl.

Much love!

Friday, August 3, 2007

Forbidden love...

Okay, so the title makes this sound juicier than it actually is. In all honesty this is going to be a bit of a rant and rave session about my life (or lack thereof), so feel free to quit reading at any time.

My crush returned to work tonight. It made my tummy do a little flip when he walked through the door. I love having something to look forward to at work. My same problem as always has started again with him, though...I am the advice girl. For the first half hour or so of our shift I was nothing but a shoulder to cry on for him. Turns out his dad was really sick back in Kansas and so he flew back for 10 days to help take care of the family. Now, if you have a high opinion of me you should probably not read this next part: the whole time we were talking he was telling me about how his dad's brush with death made him come to terms with his own mortality, blahblahblah. He's getting to the point where he wants to propose to his girlfriend of 3 and a half years. He, for some unknown reason, felt the need to share all of this with me. And what can I do, really, but smile, nod, and tell him that commitment's not that scary. How's that for, the world's biggest commitment-phobe telling someone to commit. Oh, on a lighter note I found out that he has tattoos, and they're tastefully done. Now, I think a little ink on a man is sexy. Crazy? Maybe.

I'm wearing hot pink scrubs tonight. I don't know what posessed me to do this. I look like a giant, walking piece of bubble gum with wild hair. Even my socks are pink. I'm like the pepto-bismal nurse.

The woman sitting at the computer next to me just yelled at me for typing so fast. I can't help it that I'm a fast typer, it just happens. She told me that the keys were clicking too loud. Whatever. I'm typing loud on purpose now.

Speaking of which: I don't know what's made me so contrary lately. I feel the need to argue with everyone, always prove my point, and be right about everything. Someone needs to tell me to chill out.

The field trip this week was to the Clark planetarium. Honestly, don't waste your time. The old Hansen Planetarium was like a trillion times cooler. Maybe it's because I went there as a kid and most things are cooler when you're a kid. They did have these cool things in the gift shop that I wanted, though. They were little stuffed animals of all the different STD's. Slightly crude and off-color, yes, but they would've made amazing gifts for some of my nurse friends.

I feel this strange compulsion to go shoe shopping. I want to fill my world with bright, beautiful, funky shoes. I want to make my feet gorgeous.

And on that extremely random note I'm signing off for now.
Much love!