More awkwardness

It took me a stretch of years to feel comfortable or polite calling adults by their first names. Now, well past the quasi-adult stage, there are still times where I feel uncertain. I try to err on the side of caution, but even that can be a bit tricky. Some people are just sensitive about their age.

Having mostly mastered that awkwardness, I find myself in another strange spot. I've been noticing a trend of more older people (meaning, ones you'd expect to be retired) in the workforce. I suppose it's no surprise. There are a number of people "forced out of retirement" with current state of national affairs. I find it to be a strange interaction, though, because on the one hand they're doing you a paid service, but on the other hand, well, it's Grandma, you know?

Shopping is the hardest and the Commissary is the worst. Shouldn't we be carrying Grandma's grocery bags to the car and not the other way around? The majority of baggers are older folks working only for tips. As we walk out of the air conditioning into the sweltering Redneck Riviera heat, I feel downright shame for walking casually alongside Grandma or Grandpa as (s)he pushes my load of groceries to the car with arthritic knuckles, a gently stooped back, and a slow gait. It's a no-win situation. I mean, if I don't use them, they don't make money (they sure aren't doing it for kicks). If I do use them, it feels disrespectful, especially when it's a heavy load.

It feels wrong. Unlike reaching the age at which you can address most people on a first name basis, I think this is different.

He wasn't squawkin' 1200

The other day, Peleke and I were flying. I looked out and saw a black splat on the strut that hadn't been there when we took off, and we had been cruising at 5500 feet for quite some time. Upon closer examination, I noted that it was relatively big. I mean, a common bug wouldn't have left that sort of mark. The wings gave it away. They were pressed almost perfectly against the white metal. It had been a dragonfly!

Of all the heights, latitudes, and longitudes where we could be flying, how is it that we killed probably the only dragonfly for miles around?

Another piece of nostalgia

After graduating college, I moved home to the Midwest for (what I thought was) a good job. Initially I commuted from my folks' place. It was 45 minutes to an hour each way, and I was counting the days until the first few weeks of orientation were over. They were five day work weeks, and the commute during rush hour was killing me. Eventually I settled into the typical three day work week of nursing with its avoidance of rush hour- a perk of twelve hour shifts. But the weeks of orientation felt like forever.

Heh, gotta love The Sandlot!

One morning my usual Chicago radio station did the classic radio show first-caller-with-the-correct-answer-wins-a-prize thing. Bored out of my mind during the 5:45 am commute, I chanced calling in... and won!

I'm not one of those people who seem to have good luck with drawings and lotteries (sorry Peleke, guess the lottery as a retirement plan isn't going to work out). Offhand I can recall winning two things in my life. The second thing was some sort of drawing at a yacht club when I was young. I won a teal blue tshirt undoubtedly advertising something. I was so excited regardless of the fact that there was no hope of it fitting me.

How long does it take for blood to circulate once through the human body? That was the winning question. Now of course there are a number of variables to account for here- size, heart rate, current activity/stress, cardiovascular status, hydration status, etc. I guessed something like a minute and forty-five seconds (having looked it up since then, answers vary, but apparently it was close enough to the radio station's source). When asked, I sheepishly told them that I was a cardiothoracic nurse at Chicago Big Hospital. I didn't tell them I'd only just started taking care of patients.

I heard my voice on the radio and realized how young I sounded. Is that how my patients heard me? We've all got to start somewhere, and I got my fair share of "how old are you, have you done this before*, you're so young!" and the like. That morning, the two other new nurses and I were sent up from our regular floor, the step down unit, to the ICU. As soon as we walked through the unit doors, one of the nurses proclaimed that she'd heard me on the radio that morning. I remember it being a good day up there.

I won $100 worth of movie tickets through Fandango, by the way. I didn't have any friends yet, what with the commute and where my parents lived. I moved into my apartment in Lakeview shortly afterwards, though, so in the end I used them with friends. Sometimes I hear or see ads for Fandango these days, and it makes me smile.

*There's just no good response to this. I always told the truth (or at least I didn't lie), but given the sink-or-swim nature of that unit, it sure didn't take long before I could say yes!

Hibiscus. Hibisci? Hibiscuses!

When I picture a hibiscus, I see this:

But when I think about hibiscus, I see a verdant Hawaiian scene in my mind. A cursory Google image search comes up lacking, but I don't think a picture could do it justice anyway. My memories of Hawaii growing up are too fragrant, colorful, balmy, and happy to be captured by something as relatively simple as a camera.

Of course given that my family, like half of Alaska, went there during the cold, dark winters, I suppose the escape made the memories all the more poignant. Anyway.

Earlier this spring, I was speaking over our fence with our kindly, elderly neighbor. I complimented her on her garden and lamented that even if the dogs weren't eating our rose bush, tearing limbs off of the tree, or denuding our one (and only) flowering bush, I'm pretty sure the shade in our back yard would make a garden difficult. She agreed, but it's probably for the best with the dogs anyway. Less to destroy and less desirable habitat for those water moccasins. Ew.

Clearly familiar with the local flora, I asked if she knew the kind of tree just on the other side of our fence. She said it's a hibiscus tree. Now the flowers certainly looked like it (white!), but I'd asked because I was under the impression that hibiscuses grew on a bush. Well, apparently they grow as trees too! I enjoyed that happy Hawaii feeling for a few seconds.

Having not been on that side of the house in a while, I noticed a tall weed. I mean, up to my chest and straight up vertical with no branches to really speak of. Unsure what it was (pretty in its own way) and puzzled why the lawn guy hadn't whacked it with the other weeds, I asked if my neighbor could identify it as well.

You guessed it, it's a baby hibiscus tree :)

Incidentally, my neighbor said she'd always loved the single rose bush alongside of our house and asked if she could have a clipping before the dogs finish it off. She'd better hurry...

PSA

Apparently physiologists (something about the University of Pittsburgh is all I caught) now say that the amount of fluid consumed in a pop more than compensates for the diuretic effect of the pop's caffeine.

Meaning? In this summer's response to Snowpocalypse, drink whatever you can!

On a somewhat related note, I detest Gatorade. No seriously, I think it's terribly gross stuff. However, the good doc insists all of his patients pound it after surgery, and so I did. My next leg will be done in November (*whimper*), and I'm hopeful that Gatorade's new watermelon-citrus flavor will provide a little variety.

My life

Salt Life

Mud Life

Sweet Life

New Life

(and others I forgot to write down)

What's with all the defining "life" categories people plaster on their cars?

I plead guilty

Eesh. I accidentally scheduled a post to be put up on 6/31/11. Blogger told me this was "illegal." Kind of harsh, don't you think? Are the "30 days hath September..." police going to come a knockin' on my door?

In which I'm not the only one pining for someplace else

This week got off to a rocky start. Let's just say that when the beach water is like bath water, Beast #2 thinks drinking half the Gulf of Mexico is an acceptable way to cool off. My car did not appreciate the after effects. Neither did the carpet. Well, or me. Plus apparently I'm allergic to the Redneck Riviera, and it's SO HOT AND HUMID. The dogs are absolute terrors from boredom and about die if they're outside more than five minutes.

This is not fun and I'm going bonkers along with them. I don't understand why people move here of their own free will.

By Sunday afternoon I was in tears and doing what I'd promised I'd never do- telling Peleke tearfully over the phone (while he was on a work trip, no less) how much I hate the Redneck Riviera (and by extension the Air Force for moving us here). *sigh*

He'll be home this evening, so things are definitely looking up. Plus I had a really nice time at a Sunday BBQ, taco dinner with some friends last night, and tea with a friend this morning. Oh, and I can walk pretty much normally too.

By the way, here's some random Redneck Riviera trivia for you. Within a span of 50 miles, there are the following roads: Punjob Road, Billy Bob Lane, and Costaki Court. Assuming by "punjob" they meant "punjab" (not inconceivable given the region of the US and that "punjob" isn't a real word), that's an interesting smattering of locales represented.

A little of this, a little of that

Hmm, it's been a month and a half. Most of my life has been consumed by surgery and rehab up until now, though, and I'm pretty sure that's not what anyone wants to read about (and so it has been posted elsewhere) :p You'll be happy to know (at least, I hope) that I'm now drug free and walking pretty much normally. The hardware will come out in August. Hip hip hooray! Heh, pun intended. Bottom line- as far as I can tell, the soul-crushing surgery was totally worth it :)

Anyway, I'm working on getting back to this blog. One of Dr. Leap's recent posts expressed what I often felt when I worked nights, especially number seven! But night shifts for blog posts isn't worth it in my book. Or blog :)

Inane item number one- something I've often contemplated. Why do some people who are otherwise civil and follow social decorum at, say, the supermarket, act like jerks in traffic? They wouldn't rudely cut in front of you with their cart in a long checkout line, yet they rudely cut you off in traffic. It's just strange.

This next thing is totally unrelated to the point of the billboard in question, just something about the design of the ad that I find amusing (let it be known that I'm an equal opportunity tattletale about this sort of thing). There are some pro-life billboards around here that have a chubby little baby sitting down proclaiming "my heart starts beating at 18 days" with an EKG tracing running the bottom length of the sign. Upon first glance, my thought was, "not for long like that, it's not!" Dude seriously, if you're trying to show a live, strong heartbeat, at least don't make it a ventricular rhythm with a wide QRS complex! Bad news, baby, bad news.

On marriage

Admittedly, the main reason I started this post is to share two articles that I've come across recently and feel are worth passing along. At the end of this month, Peleke and I will have been married two years. Even in two years (and with many stretches of time apart), I've learned a lot about Peleke, me, and marriage.

I'm lucky to have good role models in my parents, and he likewise with his. We're also both lucky to have peers in marriages worth emulating.

Anyway, the two articles I hope you'll take the time to read are as follows:

1. Dr. Manning from the blog Reflections of a Grady Doc gives a shameless plug for marriage.

2. Dr. Leap from the blog Edwin Leap points out the importance of levity when seeking out romance and intimacy as a married couple with kids in date night romance revisited.

From time to time I run across other worthwhile posts and may retroactively come add them to this post. Like Dr. Manning said, I think there are all kind of good reasons to be married, and sometimes we need to hear them again and from different perspectives.

After all, we get it on all sides from the naysayers!