Losing the Weight

Well, if you have seen me lately, you would know already that I'm not speaking of literal "weight" as in "I weigh 130 lbs" WHICH I WISH I WEIGHED!!! I'm talking about the weight of a burden being lifted. My chubby smile is stretching across my face and my steps are a bit lighter (hehehe) because on Monday, the biggest stress of my entire life was lifted. We don't have to deal with it anymore. And I am sooo relieved. Yes, you know what I'm talking about. People may not be so horrific as I once thought. God is a God of many miracles- and I am soooo grateful for that.
As we all know "It ain't over till the fat lady sings." Laaaaa!

All I Want for Christmas

Is a laptop. Seriously, I'm sure many people have been thinking that I'm snobbish because I don't reply to facebook things anymore, no cute and whitty comments on the blogs, etc. Well, it's nothing personal. It's just that I only have 30 minutes a day on the library computer, and between the 22 minutes it takes just to sign onto the bank website and the remaining time, I usually have to resign to doing homework. :( Only like 3 more months of madness and then I may have a normal schedule. And the first thing I'm going to do with my normal schedule paycheck is to buy a laptop. Like a normal person.

Shout out to all my girls! I miss my friends! Things have been crazy with the little ones, the big one, and learning about drugs:o) But I am always reminded of my bffs in songs I hear, things I see on tv, pictures that are hanging in my house. I'm a lucky girl! I know I may be saying uncomfortably-cheesy things, but I don't know. . . I watched "A League of Their Own" today while I was folding laundry, and I got all weepy. Hope all is well with all y'all.

xoxo Sarah

Let's try again. . . snakes

I don't think I have written about this yet. I don't think I've written much about anything. We have a storage shed. Our storage shed has a snake. All of our storage stuff is now either behind our house, or on our front porch. Go ahead, laugh. I don't know what to do about this situation we are in. Who knew anyone could be as afraid of snakes as I? I have bought the snake repellent. It's sitting on the porch with all the other stuff that goes in the shed. It says to wear gloves when you spread it. I'm a little bit nervous that the snake will be angry. Or maybe if I put it in the storage, the snake will just feel trapped and die in there. I suggested we cement the little hellion in there, but that would require actually entering the storage. We're looking at week #7 here. And in another 6, the grandparents and Aunt Meg are coming, and I want them to feel proud of their granddaughter's ability to make the house look "homey", not like a joke Jeff Foxworthy would make. Am off to work.

Snakes

This is an old one posted on Oct 21 2008. Don't worry. Not important.

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Take Me or Leave Me
Monday, November 17, 2008
Chill Pills
Some people need them. Sometimes, I am some people. Let's talk about the concept of the phrase "Take a chill pill". I think the first person I heard say that phrase may or may not have been Kelly Kapowski on the 1990's super-cheesy sitcom "Saved by the Bell." Exactly what is a chill pill? Webster's Dictionary defines a chill pill as "something calming, relaxing, or reducing stress." To use in a sentence: "Wow, you just yelled at me for one minute straight. Take a chill pill." What a coincidince, I just said that exact sentence in my head to a resident's son yesterday. This man, a retired colonel (just like his father), always greets me with a side hug and a "How's my favorite lady?" when he walks in the door. We often joke. You could say we're good acquaintances. Yesterday, a new CNA was working on this hall- it was her first day passing meds and her first day on that hall. I went in early to pass meds with her. Came time to do rounds, and she went to do them while I finished her meds. After church, about an hour later, Colonel Junior comes in to get Papa Colonel, and Papa Colonel is wet. Because new CNA wasn't aware that Papa Colonel was supposed to have two attends pads on top of his brief. Which is an honest mistake, and a mistake that anyone could make, especially when new to the hall, and a little stressed under the circumstances. So instead of saying "I'm disappointed that my father is wet-" or having a mature adult conversation with me about solving a problem, he goes all "Captain Crazy" on me. Colonel Junior got in my face, and pointed his face a quarter of an inch away from my nose, and yelled and yelled. And yelled. Finally, after insulting me and making a racial slur to my coworkers, I said "you need to cool off" and we all walked out. I believe that he, at that time, needed a chill pill.

I could have used one yesterday too. That little incident got to me all day long, and I have been questioning whether or not I would actually accept an admin job, because I truly hate dealing with those kind of situations. And Alfredo was going to an important meeting, that I was a little stressed about. So, like a silly girl, I call him as soon as I know his meeting is thru. And it went really well. And I was relieved. And then he put his kids on the phone. The 8 year old wants to teach me drums. And he is excited to meet me. He even told me where he lives in case I want to play on a day when he is at his mommy's. Wouldn't that be fun. But after my long day of stress and emotions, I was given a really strong dosage of a chill pill. And I am so grateful for it.
Posted by sarahbrowniz at 12:39 PM 2 comments
Thursday, November 13, 2008
¡Necessito Un Médico!
Which en espagnol means "I need a doctor." I have been neglecting my blog responsibilities. I need to catch up on all the latest words of all my blogging buds, because I have no idea what is going on outside of the last crazy week of my life. I don't mean to be selfish. Just am a little preoccupied. With a man. And boy is he great. The long and short of it is- I have a 37 year old boyfriend- and I think he really likes me! :o) I don't really know what to say, I think about him and I blush. And I know that we have all spent the last years of our friendship making fun of girls like me. But I can't help it! I'm giddy. And today, I bought a set of Spanish scriptures. Because he's teaching me Spanish. And I know that it's all a bit disgusting- and I even feel a little bit sappy- but he's pretty freakin awesome. And I'm pretty freakin happy. I'm just holding on to this rollercoaster I'm on- he's moving a little faster than I'm used to. But he's 37, and he's been married before. And I'm really ok with that. I'm gonna stop now.
Posted by sarahbrowniz at 10:33 AM 3 comments
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Obrigato, Hallelujah!
Brazilian food is good. Argentinian man is better.
Posted by sarahbrowniz at 12:40 PM 3 comments
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Baby's Got Sauce
And his name is Alfredo. Yes, another small entry about this Argentinian amour of mine. He is beatiful. And he got my numba off the schedule and called me for a date yesterday. I had just woken up from a nap, and called Christin, and my call waiting was an unknown number. To my surprise, it was Alfredo. And he asked me if I would like to go out sometime. He said he has never been on a date in America, and he's not sure how its done, but he thought dinner might be nice. So as a result of this fun phone call, he is picking me up Saturday at 7. Three of my favorite things ever said:

"I know I'm a lot older than you, but I don't mind if you don't."

and

"I don't think you're supposed to say over the phone, but I really like you a lot and I want to know you better."

and

"You made my week!"

For the record, he is 37. Not 67. And he has two boys, ages 8 and 6. And he is gorgeous. I would like to advise all readers and friends, find yourself a foreigner. They do things a little bit differently than we Americans. It's kind of nice for a change.
Posted by sarahbrowniz at 3:11 PM 5 comments
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Fanny
Some think of "Fanny" as a nicer word for buttocks. i.e. "Josh, when you're in the car, you need to sit on your fanny and stay buckled in." (Actual sentence said by actual family member) I, until today, have thought of Fanny as Barbra Streisand's character "Fanny Brice" in the beloved musical "Funny Girl." I love that movie. But now, Fanny has new meaning. Fanny is a sweet little old woman of 72 pounds. And she makes my day every day when I go in her room and she sits up and kisses me on the cheek. She's always happy to see me. And I love that. And for the record it's not those kisses that you really don't want. She's a clean lady. And she smells like flowers. All that said, Fanny, I think you're so great. And as I've said before, if there was a way for me to share my weight with you, I totally would. Remember to use your walker. Thank you, Fanny. Thank you.
Posted by sarahbrowniz at 1:58 PM 1 comments
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
I'm workin' heeeah!
To all of you family members of the present and future:

On behalf of the entire health care field, I would like to invite you to contemplate the situation your mother/father may be living in now. I know that you have spent the last 60 years or so with your mother/father. He/she raised you, helped you with homework, made your dinners, made your dress for your high school prom, maybe even walked you down the aisle. No doubt he/she has been your hero over the years, and you want the best for your beloved parent. Believe me, we as health care workers want the same. Let's discuss this idea of "the best."

When Mother turns 93, and sadly, on her 93rd birthday, she has bronchitis and may sound as though a fluid-filled lung may fly out of her throat at any time; her birthday party may not be her first priority. Though I'm sure she kicked her heels up in her day, right now it would be best for her to stay in her recliner and sleep rather than raise a glass to "For She's a Jolly Good Fellow." It's not a personal insult. You are a fine daughter/son. And yes, I'm sure there were far too many dishes to wash and cakes to bake for her to even think about a nap. But trust me, she's tired. And she's 93. It's fine.

Another concern is to the family members considering putting Father on hospice. Hospice is for those who are declining due to serious illness. Serious illness is not, however, forgetting where he put his glasses when he went to bed. His memory may slip now that he's in his 80's. I'm 25 and I forget to turn the stove off sometimes. I'm not on Hospice. It's fine.

My final, yet most crucial concern is that of patience. Yes, breakfast starts in ten minutes. Yes, Mother's aide has not been in to see her. And yes, Mother needs her blood sugar taken before she eats. I know that you see all these things because you have been staying with mother for one month now. But what you do not see is that Mother's aid has been cleaning the remnants of a colostomy bag off the bathroom wall for the last 25 minutes, people in the dining room have been yelling randomly for the last hour that it "cold as hell in here" as I sweat bullets because a woman on Alfredo's hall doesn't want a man to help her so I have to run up and down the stairs every 3 minutes because she forgot her sweater, can't get the tangle out of her hair, her brief is on too tight, and then she forgot to give me a candy bar (but the small size because I "look like I'm watching my weight"); and now I have found the strips for your mother's glucometer after asking 4 times for them-and the glucometer has a dead battery. Yes, Mother needs help. But so do 47 other people in this building- and that is NOT INCLUDING ME. So next time you think to complain to either aide or administrator, remember that these people, your friends in the health care field, usually don't get breaks. We work thru the night, and wake up very early to wipe Mother's butt and make her bed. So though we may look very nice in our coordinating scrubs and our stethoscopes around our necks- remember that today at sometime, for someone somewhere, the shit may literally be on the fan.

Yours Sincerely,
Sarah, CNA
Posted by sarahbrowniz at 1:59 PM 1 comments
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
What goes up must come down.
Oh what a weekend. I have had so many-(yes I am very girly today)- FEELINGS. There's been fear, disappointment, joy, more fear, exhaustion, vulnerability, anger, homesickness, worry, love. . . ah so many. And it's got me tired.

My long awaited trip to Lake Powell with my buddy Chris was this weekend, followed by my trip to Logan. Here's the play by play.

1. Saw Chris.
2. Got flat tire.
3. Jumped off cliff into water and rocks. Missed rocks. Splashed in water.
4. Climbed lots of rocks in flip-flops.
5. Saw boats and got sun.
6. Noticed something I wish I didn't.
7. Got flat tire.
8. Ate good food.
9. No sleep-due to hard cement and large hips.
10.Drove home in not 5 hours, but 8.
11.Said goodbye to Chris.
12.Went to good fireside which reminded me of my conversion.
13.Drove to Logan.
14.Saw old friends whom I miss very much.
15.Sang at work.
16.Talked to now awkward old boss Paul.
17.Saw Ada.
18.Cried.
19.Drove home to Sandy.
20.Cried some more.

And in all this emotional rucous- I worked with aforementioned Alfredo, who showed me a picture of his kids and told me that he was divorced. And one of the cute spanish ladies said "Aw so he availabulll!" and I wanted to crawl under the desk, and then pull him under with me. Oh I'm so horrible. He has a 6 yo and 8yo boy- and their names are. Wait for it. Moroni and Jacob. Now I've always found that to be a little ridiculous, but I will excuse it because he's from Argentina. And he was all "proud father"-like. And now I feel the need to cry again. Damn these hormones. And damn these men. Well, only the ones whom I mentioned

And you thought it wouldn't happen. . .

I'm goin back to schoo!! Call me crazy, but it starts a week from today! I will be your smiling pharmacy technician, and I will be making twice as much as I am now in about 9 months and three weeks. Thank you mister sam, thank you for your financial aid.

I ain't got not J-O-B.

Well, perhaps I was not very smart. But I'm sorry, when you suspend my husband for something he OBVIOUSLY didn't do, and you replace him before you actually have the balls to call him and fire him. . . screw you. Very very long story which ends in both Alfredo and I looking desperately for jobs. No es bueno.

Little Boys

I will rewrite the lyrics to that wonderful song that Carol Burnett sings in the movie "Annie." And I will then go buy a big bottle from the DI (like big poppa's), climb half-clothed into my very small tub, and sing it at the top of my lungs.

Thursday, I almost killed someone at work. Not a resident. A coworker. The Lord was on my side and inspired two people to work so I could have Friday and Saturday off, added to my normal weekend. So the past three days, we've had the little guys. It was a fairly good weekend. But MAN! I'm EXHAUSTED! They have SOOO much energy and, like little boys do, are just constantly picking on each other and getting into stuff. Moroni found the matches (in the new spot) again and almost burned the house down. And I spent 8 bucks on Pokeman cards. I'm such a sucker.

Last night, Cristina came and got the kids around 6, and we just laid on the couch and watched that one movie with Steve Martin and Queen Latifah. I can't remember what it's called. Anyway, tomato soup at 8:30 and in bed by 9:15. It really is true, being married makes you kind of boring! Oh well, I may be boring, but I'm happy anyway. Happy, and EXHAUSTED.

the 12 days of wedding

We're actually on day number 11. Perhaps I will recompose this song from hell- but today, day 11, is certainly "11 dollars in my bank account. Lucky for me payday is Friday. You know, I don't have cold feet really. But as Alfredo just informed that he owed $537 in state taxes, I am wondering from which angle Satan will "mis-aim" or maybe just throw me a bone instead of a bill, or a psychotic ex-wife. Because I cannot handle much more. I have no money. He has no money. And I don't know how we are going to pay for anything anymore. I am, literally, spent. And I know that the past few weeks I have looked like crap, and people have said "You look like you have something on your mind." IT'S BECAUSE I DO. I am constantly thinking about his kids, his ex-wife, our debt, when can I move into his place, I need to get rid of my stuff, my car needs so much work done, will we have the kids for the wedding, and there's even more. As I said before, I do not have cold feet. It's quite amazing, and a little bit gushy, that though I feel like we are both being drug through hell itself right now, I would do it again (and probably will have to) for him. And I know he would do it for me. This whole "marriage" thing becomes more real to me every day. There are days when we are giddy and flirty and foolishly giggly because "we're getting married!!" And then there are days when we cry because things just keep happening. And I realize that our problems will not magically go away on February 6. They won't even pause. But I just want that day to get here so I can at least settle into our home, and to just be with my husband. It's strange. I thought it would never actually happen. And it's happening. In 11 days.