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Showing posts from 2015

When "happy" doesn't belong in front of "holidays" for you. It's ok, really.

There are some people (and I think of my Mom when I say this, because she's an awesome Christmas nut), who are abundantly happy, excited, joyful, cherubic and celebratory the moment a sniff in the air of the impending holidays comes around. They will start singing Christmas songs the moment Thanksgiving dinner is polished off, the turkey limp and sad in the middle of the table. The tree may even be up BEFORE Thanksgiving! (Here's lookin' at YOU Mom)....

But what if the moment the commercials start and the music shows up, there you are in Target, perusing the houseware section YET AGAIN when you just came in for a box of Tampax.... and a pang of dread punches you in the gut? What if awful things have happened to you during the holiday season and no matter how far you've come, what you've accomplished or how long it's been, the holidays just....SUCK for you?

For me, chilly air and the breaking out of decorations reminds me of lying face down on my bedroom floor …

Diary of a MAD, MAD Blonde Woman.

Five days ago, in the sardine-packed Ferry building in San Francisco, I came across someone's phone in the stall of the ladies restroom. Knowing that someone was either panicking--or was about to-- when they discovered their phone was gone, I asked everyone in the crowded room if that was their phone. I then asked the lady who was in a conversation in Spanish if she could ask the room in Spanish if it was anyone's phone. No one answered, so I took the phone out to the coffee kiosk next to the restroom and was turning the phone in when a harried lady walked up to me.
"Oh, you found it! Thank you for turning it in!", she said, a look of complete relief flashing across her face.

I understood. These days, the phone is the equivalent of an entire purse, file cabinet, CD collection, relationship journal (with everyone we know) and photo album all rolled into one. Some people may not like it, but our phones are IMPORTANT to us.

Mine has the candid pictures of my wedding…

The Manifesto of the Mom with a Son.

Out in public, I can spot them immediately. In the ER, the moment they are in the door, I can diagnose them. There they are, 20-40 something female, doughy, curled on the gurney like they need their last rites read. Probably clad in sunglasses. Some deer-in-headlights male in the seat beside them, probably rubbing their back. She looks up at the male, and says, "You're not doing it right." She tells me "I'm allergic to everything except Dilaudid. I have a history of chronic back pain, fibromyalgia, degenerative disk disease, depression, anxiety, polycystic ovary disease, chronic abdominal pain, nine c-sections, intractable vomiting, migraines, scoliosis, halitosis, mononucleosis and I might have tuberculosis. I've had a cough for three years."

 This woman probably has some serious issues or was NEVER EVER EVER told NO as a child. She was taught the world revolves around her, that everything should fall in line with whatever makes her happy at the mome…

33 Signs You Were An Early 90's High School Girl

You smelled like Exclamation and your boyfriend smelled like Drakkar.You wore overalls. With one shoulder strap. Over a sweater.You thought your new perm and your curled, teased and Rave level 4 bangs were hot.Janet Jackson made you realize your female power when you saw her video for "If". And you started doing 5000 crunches a day. It lasted two days.You bought your first CD. And player.You were rad if you had a mounted Discman in your car that had a cassette adapter and skipped when you hit bumps- but you didn't let it spoil your game while listening to Duran Duran.You had a gigantic bow on every formal and semi formal dress you wore to any fancy dance. Ever.Your hair was in a banana clip for prom.You had Marky Mark in his underwear plastered to your wall.Your Z Cavaricci jeans were acid washed and had a zipper on the ankle.You wore guess jeans with the tight rolled up cuff together with your Keds.You learned that wearing onesie bodysuits, while stylish, gave you self-…

When You Cause A 2319.

So a month ago I jumped right off the crazy train called the Emergency Room. If I had one more patient attempt to bite, grab, insult, slap or manipulate me I was going to lose my shit.

Like, really lose my shit.



I missed my kids. I missed evenings with my husband. I missed sleep. I missed the feeling of looking forward to work. I missed not being afraid that I was unwillingly about to put in a 14 or 15 hour day that consisted of maybe a bathroom run or two, but most likely would lack the 30 minutes that I am legally entitled to, to gather my shit, refuel and feel less, I don't know STABBY before I went out to see another patient. I MISSED FEELING HUMAN.



It took a desperate trip to a primary doctor (which I previously, of course, did not have) to discuss the constant headaches, fatigue and insomnia that were plaguing me to get me to realize:



I'M ONE OF THEM.

I'M ONE OF THE NURSES THAT IS EXPERIENCING BURNOUT. IT'S A THING. IT'S AN ACTUAL THING BECAUSE I HAVE LOST…

The Elephant in the Room

I purposely tried hot yoga today. I say purposely because after a chat with my sister in law, I realized that this is not something that some people would willingly subject themselves to. Specifically, she stated that she will never pay money to go feel like her electricity was shut off in August. I am used to hanging out in the gym the last couple of years. I have become hooked (though in some weeks "less hooked") on the process of strength and endurance training (ala a sort of Crossfit style, but I am completely sold on the concept that MY gym does it RIGHT and wouldn't associate with Crossfit--akin to the annoying cousin who KIND OF looks like you but isn't nearly as cool). Why, NO, it's NOT because my brother is one of the trainers. *Rabbit trail* Anyway, I tried Hot Yoga. I have been walking around a knotted up ball of stress for a good six or seven weeks now. Every life change possible has occurred in a few months time, and today it didn't feel like l…

An Open Letter To People That Have Been Through S**t.

It's the ending of a year, sayanara to 2014! So many of us look forward to a new year because we have a sense of starting over....of having a re-do for the things that we didn't quite get to in the previous year. A time for reflection and planning for change. But are you able to truly let go of last year? Are there things that you drag with you like tedious heavy suitcases that are wearing you down, but you insist on over packing and lugging around anyway? Are there traumatic things you experienced, life lessons you learned, spiritual awakenings that changed you on a heart level? You have an obligation. You have an obligation to those who have experienced or are about to experience what you did. Who need to hear what you have learned, how you got through something, and for God's sake, how to LET IT GO. If it involves someone else, or someone who wronged you, it's ok. It's ok to tell your story because the truth, the authentic make-you-cringe truth is sometimes th…