Monthly Archives: May 2014

Catch Up.

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I know I’ve been doing a lot of these but I’m busy, leave me alone. I’m going to do a catch up on my life post again. So here’s the run down on what’s going on.

My chest got stared at and my butt touched, by different men, a week and a half apart and one should not have done what he did. One of my residents told me we were sisters and was disappointed when I told her my brother was married with 2 kids. I got a new computer, which I can’t get on the internet with yet because my parents don’t have wireless. I guess I’m going to Budapest now instead of the Czech Republic. My nephew graduated kindergarten, niece turns 5 next Tuesday. Today is my last shift at the nursing home for a month. I fly to training on Sunday. I’ve helped move equipment from field to field, emptied a pickup of seed bags and been under the drill helping to free it from twine.

Let’s explain some of those things now.

The company I’m working for sent me an email, that I saw yesterday because I’m busy and can’t check my email every day, and told me there’s not enough teaching spots in the Czech Republic. I’m pretty disappointed. I’ve been preparing myself, my heart for this and falling more in love with the country for 8 months and now I have to switch my thinking around in less than half that time. I mean, I’ll deal with it and the company can’t help what the schools want. But there’s been tears about this. But I’ll get over it.

I went shopping yesterday. If you’re Facebook friends with me you know I’ve started to pack for my training. I also said that I felt like I had no clothes for this. So as much as I hate it, I went shopping yesterday and spent way more than I like. You also know that MJ and I had a conversation on a post I had about going shopping. I hate shopping. I’m not a girly girl so going shopping is like pulling teeth. MJ and I have also have discussed me getting into a dress or skirt. She wants to get me in a skirt so bad. She’s trying to get me to be a girly girl. Trust me, if MJ had her way, I would be in dresses and skirts and heels all the time. I’ll take my jeans, tee shirts and boots, thank you very much. So yesterday, to torment MJ, I sent her a selfie of me in a skirt. She still doesn’t know if I bought it or not. If I knew that MJ wouldn’t be reading this post, I would give a definite answer if I bought it or not. But I’ll never tell. Is trying on a gateway drug for me being a girly girl? Hope not. I also got a computer yesterday, but like I said, can’t use the internet on it yet.

So the last post (I think the last post) I talked about the guy that said “Sooooo, you’re a woman”. I mean, I’m not a girly girl but it is kind of obvious that I am of the female gender. Caught him staring at my chest the other day. Awkward. Then he was disappointed to hear that I was leaving. I may be misreading this guy, but is he into me? I hope not. I’d most likely break his heart. No, not most likely, I would break his heart. Poor guy. Fall out of love with me. We’re not made for each other. I promise. We’re too different. I’m to aggressive for you. (It’s weird to think I’m too aggressive for someone) You can find someone better than me. No one saw that coming from me right? Me saying that a guy should find someone else. Mark that down as a significant day in history. And this guy isn’t a bad guy. There’s just enough room for one awkward person and I have that semi-down. He’s not bad looking either. I’m just not interested. Let that be known. I’m not going to talk about the other incident because I don’t want to be pissed off again because that’s what happens when you touch my but and I don’t want you to. I get pissed. And the story could get people in trouble. I’ll must be quiet about it. I know only one person that knows what this reference means but I almost pulled a Brad on him when touched me. (I almost got violent.)

So along with working at the nursing home (last shift for over a month. YAY!) I’ve been helping at home. That means I get to drive a pickup around on country roads. I don’t think people realize how happy this makes me. If I could get a job from late April to about October driving a pickup around on country roads, I would take that in a heart beat. Especially if it’s an old pickup. Makes me even happier. See. Not a girly girl. I’d rather be in an old pickup with my hair up in a messy bun or in a pony tail driving around. Further proof that I need to marry a farmer. I’d totally move back to the farm full time if I could.

The kids are growing up. The nephew is now a kindergarten grad and the niece will be starting kindergarten in the fall and turning 5. The nephew continues to break my heart every time he’s excited to hang out with me and then asks me how many days he has left with me. I’m continuing to the love the niece even though, personality wise, we’re completely different and she drives me a little crazy every once in a while.

MJ and I have still been writing. It’s our drug. I joke that I’m the puppet master of this story because I plant ideas in her head and she goes all dramatic on her sections with these ideas and it’s making our story 1,000% better because my sections are lame sauce. There’s amnesia involved now and a super lame guy. I’ve used lame to describe this guy like a thousand times. He’s so lame. This story is turning into a soap opera. I’m convinced. Now MJ is taking a vacation down south and I’ll probably have to wait for an entry…… 😦 sad face.

So that’s the main things going on in my life. It sounds like a lot and it is but it’s all non-exciting things.

So there’s this car place in the area. It’s Kupper Chevrolet. Do you pronounce it Kupper like cup-her or coop-her? I’ve been pronouncing it cup-her. I’m wrong. It’s coop-her. What the eff? I’m pronouncing it right, everyone else is wrong. Sorry that was a random tangent. It’ll happen again.

Awkwardness and Characters.

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So if you’ve been following my blog for a while, you know I have awkward encounters with men, usually awkward business encounters. They’re what make my life entertaining. So the other night, I’m working and I come out of a room with garbage and stuff and I put it in the trash thing and I go to mark something on our sheet. A male co-worker is there and he goes: “Sooooo, you’re a woman.” Why, yes. Thanks for noticing. “So you watch romance movies.” It was more of a statement than a question. Well, yeah, some. I don’t make a habit of it. I’m starting to get nervous, where this is going. I felt like we were going down this road where he was going to ask me out and I was scared. Let me explain. With me leaving soon, I don’t want to date. I don’t want to get emotionally involved with anyone. This guy isn’t my type either. We get along we can keep a conversation at work but he’s a little high strung? Worrisome? He’s to uptight. I am not to his extent but I’m similar. So I was worried. Mentally, I was like, I don’t want to say yes but I’ll probably say yes to be nice. But he goes on while I’m mentally panicking. “Have you seen ‘The Time-Traveler’s Wife’?” Yeah, books better. I’m still confused. “Well, I was thinking about time-travel. And I was thinking about time traveling in the past and living in the past. And I was trying to think about movies with that instead of time traveling all over the place.” Then there’s a conversation about ‘Dr. Who’ and ‘The Curious Case of Benjamin Button’. I wish I could get non-awkward encounters.

Talking about awkward encounters, friend-ish acquaintance got yelled at twice for picking on me on Sunday. I’m amused that he gets yelled at for picking on me and no one ever catches me giving him crap right back. I can handle crap and dish it out. But I did have to laugh. He did try to protest, but there was no winning. My hypothetical damsel in distress will always trump his jester ways.

So MJ and I were emailing yesterday and we got on the subject of sex. Actually, it started off with our characters and sex and then it sort of morphed into us in a way. We also talked about drinking and what kind of alcoholics we would be/are. It’s weird how spot on we have our characters with our personalities. MJ and her character are very stubborn and would/are entertaining drunks, if in their right mind. Me and my character are the sensible ones. On the sex front, we’ve been talking about the characters actions during and around sex. The old wounds seem to come up and affect how sex happens. We’ve also been talking about characters who were supposed to be minor turning into major game changers. This subject always gets me going on a tangent. I love when there are characters introduced and you’re like “oh, minor character.” BOOM, they’re saving your life and you want to make babies with them….That may or may not be true with one of the characters in our book and me. But I love those surprises. I’m a girl that kind of, or really majorly, predicts the end of books and am usually accurate. So when these characters come up, I get a little giddy. Sometimes, in a good book, I don’t realize that the minor character becomes a major one. I had to go back and re-read our beginning of the story to remember that a major player in the story was supposed to be a minor sidekick. But really, what greater surprise is there than to have an unexpected character that you love and grows into your heart? There isn’t one at this moment. Give me a moment or two and I’ll come up with another great thing.

Talking about books, trying to get through Winter’s Tale. It’s going slow. I’m having a hard time getting past the writing.

I talked about hair the other day. I had 3 residents obsess about my hair last night when I was putting them to bed. That doesn’t happen. Is there a full moon? People freak out during full moons.

Mothers Day

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Today was mother’s day. I love my mommy. But I failed. I didn’t get my mom anything. Yesterday we went to go see one grandma and we went with my sister-in-law and the kids. I was sitting in between the kids and mom was going into the store. I yell at mom to get herself a card on me. Mom and the sister-in-law roll there eyes. I woke up this morning and told mom that I was going to make her a card but obviously nothing was going to be as nice as what she would have picked out for herself. She laughed. Does that mean I was right? I can be crafty but I’m sure that my card would have been lame. Being 26 and thinking about making your mother a mother’s day card can be lame. Pretty sure. But it is her fault for not following directions.

We went to go see the other grandma today. We stopped and went to church with my aunt and uncle and then we took grandma out to eat. When I got my first pair of boots in college, she saw them and told me that since I had boots, I was going to attract all the cowboys and now every time she sees me in boots she comments about how I don’t have a cowboy. I am aware of this. So we go back to grandma’s apartment and I’m looking around because the med that I’m on for my thyroid gives me this extra burst of energy and so I wasn’t sitting still. Behind me there was a newer looking card that said something to the extent of “Happy Birthday to my wife”. My grandfather, the one married to this grandmother, has been gone for about 33 1/2 years. He died of a rare blood disease a month and a half before his first grandchild. So I was confused. It’s not grandma’s birthday for another month or so and I know she kind of has a boyfriend in this complex. I say kind of because pretty sure it’s not official and grandma gets all huffy about it. So I was like “what if it’s from this guy? Did they secretly get married? Grandma getting married right before she turns 80? No. I need to be there for that wedding.” So I ask mom and dad if they know about a secret wedding. This card looked way to knew to be from 30 plus years ago. They didn’t know. We went to my aunt and uncles place for a while and so I asked my aunt. No, it’s a card still from my grandpa. It’s an incredibly sweet thing to have. This is almost a gross cute thing. This must have been the last birthday card grandma got. But a part of me was a little upset that grandma didn’t have a secret wedding. I don’t think that would set well with grandma’s children though.

After we left we stopped at this little restaurant we used to stop at when I was little. This place hasn’t changed since I was little. Same carpets, same restrooms that say ‘cowgirls’ and ‘cowboys’ on them, same red glasses. The same red glasses. These glasses epitomized eating at this restaurant when I was little. I had a rant about how amazing these red glasses were tonight. They were amazing. I still love them. I then told mom and dad what section we used to sit at all the time and the pictures haven’t changed a bit. Still looks like 1996 in these pictures. You have to love small town diners that never change owners or workers. Lots of memories there.

Tonight my brother and his family came over to give mom her a mothers day gift. The nephew looks at me and says “you’re going to be here for 10 more days.” I was a little confused so I had him repeat it and his parents and I kind of looked at each other like “What the hell is this child talking about?” Then it dawned on me. I had explained to him a few months ago that I was going to be living at grandma and grandpa’s for awhile, or at least until he was a first grader. He graduates kindergarten in 10 days. That’s where he got that. Geesh. That kid.

So I’ve been doing some editing to the story MJ and I are telling. Do you hear that MJ? I’m editing and adding. I’m trying to pull my weight in this story. Trying is the key word there. We decided that we aren’t ready to leak this story to public yet so no one gets to read it. But it’s amazing. Because we are amazing.

Yup

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Everyone has that couple friends that are gross cute. They’re that couple that are so cute they’re gross. They don’t mean it or get handsy or anything, they just are so in love that it’s gross. They do cute little things for each other and stuff. It makes you want to puke. Gross cute. MJ and I have been talking about this a lot lately. We’re writing and telling this story and one day I was worried about the one couple being gross cute. I also told her that I never want to be gross cute. Not that I have anything against being gross cute but it’s not who I am. I’m the somewhat sarcastic girl who’s a little direct. Gross cute is not what I do. But we’ll see what happens, if that happens.

So I got hit on the other night at work by a man in his upper 80’s. Awkward. So you have to know this guy is one of the most appreciative men ever. Never a bad word to be said, even when he’s sick he’s really positive and will give you a compliment. He’s the one that called me pretty one. So tonight, I’m getting him from his recliner to his wheel chair. He was pivoting, meaning that he stands and turns instead of getting hooked up to a machine to help him turn. So I’m standing in front of him and he’s turning and when he turns he’s a little hunched and you can’t be me and a CNA and not get in people’s faces when you pivot. You can’t do that and not feel comfortable that they’re not going to fall. So he’s turning and he goes well at least I have soft breasts to lay my head on. I was so concentrated on what I was doing that it didn’t hit me what was going on. And being who he is, I know he was being nice and being positive but it was so creepy. Then later I was helping him get ready for bed and I heard the lady next door ring her bell and I was a little unnerved by what had happened so I go out and the other CNA was about to go into the neighbor’s room. So I was like “S, let’s switch” and he’s like okay the original guy was his to get ready anyway. So later S the CNA goes, “Hey, thanks for getting him started.” and I go. “No problem, he said something that made me a little uncomfortable before so I was glad to get out of there.” The man that commented to me is so sweet that S the CNA corners me going into a store room to ask me what he said. So I tell him and I was like “I know he didn’t mean it as like weird, but it unnerved me.” Thank God for S the CNA. I was at the home unofficially yesterday and walked by his room and kind of shuttered. I’ll get over it.

So yesterday, Saturday, was family day at the home. I didn’t have to work but I was there because my grandma is in the home. First, I had CNA’s telling me I need to get my scrubs on, get my name tag and start working. NO! Then we ran to the store after the festivities were done. We went in with my sister-in-law and the kids (I was sitting in between the kids in the back seat of the pickup) and my mom was going to run in. I yell, “When you’re in there, pick up a mother’s day card for yourself from me.” Mom and sister-in-law just look at each other and shake their heads. It’s not an unusual reply is it? No….Yes, I should have thought about mother’s day before the day before. I fail as a child. So, my brother and sister-in-law built a house on the home place and my nephew and I planned for me to come over and play. We get home and he says. I’ll call you when to come over. So I take my contacts out, throw my hair up and put on a sweatshirt and I’m messing around then he calls. So I go over. You expect the kid to play with me right? Yeah, for like a half an hour. The rest of the time, I help him with his subtraction homework and hang out with my sister-in-law. Lamest play date ever. We need to work on that.

MJ and I are still utterly addicted to our story. We may need an intervention. Someone want to stage that for us? So tonight I go, I’m going to go to bed. So I take a quick shower, do my toe nails, start shaving my legs with my electric shaver and it dies so I go back on the internet. This all happens in like an hour an MJ has been working on her section for like 2 hours. This is us, more so her than me because I know I can edit she edits as she goes, we spend hours on our story. Makes us epic.

Hair.

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This is going to be a girly post. If you are male, I’m not saying you won’t enjoy this but it’s a long shot.

With the exception of when I was 2 and I had a bob, I have always been a girl with long hair. Shoulder length or longer. I like it that way. That’s the way it will be for the unforeseeable future. I really don’t mind my hair. I’m used to it. I’m a hair flipper so there’s that, it helps a girl flirt when necessary and let’s face it, not much flirting going on right now. (You hear that MJ? No flirting, no boys!) There are perks to having long hair. But recently, I’ve had a problem with my hair. And this might be a little thing but it’s a thing. Trust me. Bathing.

Usually, I take showers because that’s what I enjoy and I never realized this, but it’s less creepy for me. I’ve been sick with a cold the past couple of days and I’ve been a little achy, so I took a couple baths. Both times, I didn’t wash my hair, I just bathed and I forgot a hair tie. Now my hair is long like about halfway down my back and I’m a sloucher so it’s gonna touch the water. It kind of grosses me out that I’m bathing so all my yuckiness is in the water and, first of all, how weird is it that it’s supposed to be relaxing to sit in your own filth but then I have to have my hair touch this water. My hair, the hair on my head that I have always been picky about. I need something for my hair in this circumstance. NEED TOO. Luckily, I live with my parents that will get me my hair ties from across the hall in my room. Everything worked out for the best…..this time.

Then here’s a second thing that bugs me. Plain old washing my hair. In the sink or in the tub. No shower, no sitting in bathing. Just me, my hair, water, shampoo and conditioner. This goes along the same lines as bathing for me. No matter how clean that area is, my hair will always go straight for the drain. It’s a proven fact. It’s going to happen. Do you realize what goes down your drain? Yeah, the filth from you bath or if you’re a shower peeing person, your pee goes down there. Or if you wash your hair in the sink, your spit from your mouth when you brush your teeth goes there and your dirty hand water goes down there and that’s where my hair goes when I wash it. To the drain. So your drain is gross and since my hair is long, it goes down the drain, not just collects there, it wants to go down the drain. The drain is the closet to which my hair goes to Narnia. When I was little, I thought the drain would like pull my hair and drag me down into the depths of the unknown. Now it just creeps me out. Here’s what happens when I just wash my hair. I don’t even go near the sink. I go in the tub, yes in because my parents’ tub is very deep, and when I’m washing my scalp, my head is under the faucet, one hand is stabilizing myself and holding my hair, (which is trailing out of the hand) and the other hand is getting all the soap out. It’s a process that I’m not so fond of because no matter how hard I try my hair goes down the drain. I’m not even sure why just these two things bug me about hair. Actually, I take that back, it makes sense. I have a certain way I brush my hair, very particular how it’s cut and everything, of course I’m going to be picky on how my hair encounters with water.

So this subject of hair has been in my head for the past couple of days. So we’re going to continue with the project. My sister and I have always had longer hair. And until the last decade or decade and a half, my mom has too. Now it’s short around the ear length. And my dad likes the traditional look. He likes mom’s short hair that’s shorter and naturally a little curly and he like my sister’s and mine long, straight hair like it is. To prove this, let me tell you a story. In college, I would come home and have my lady that has cut my hair for years, cut my hair. So I come home during spring break and she cuts it. Not really noticeable when it’s down but when I put it up, it was noticeable. I’m a girl who has a hard time cutting any amount of hair off so it’s tough when I cut a noticeable amount off and it goes up in a pony tail the second I get home. So it was up in a pony tail and that night I was on all fours in the living room looking for a highlighter or something. Dad, who’s sitting right there, pulls on my hair. Mom reprimands him and says “Don’t do that, it’s tough enough for her to cut her hair, what are you doing?” “trying to make it longer.” Here’s another story. When my sister first moved out of the house she tells me (who was 12 at the time) in confidence that she’s going to dye her hair a lighter shade of blonde. She knows that mom and dad, dad in particular, won’t like it so she tells me (like so many other times growing up) “Don’t tell Mom and Dad”. She does it and mom and dad don’t say much because she’s out of the house but pretty sure dad wasn’t a fan. So he likes a classic, natural hairstyle.

Back to the REAL story here. The neighbor girl is graduating high school this spring, which is really weird for me because I remember her bald and in diapers and babysat her in high school. She’s got a shorter hair and styles it modernly. So we get the graduation announcement in the mail the other day. I’m looking at it and dad goes. “I don’t know, the way she did her hair. Looks like she went through a wind tunnel. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t like it.” On her, I thought it was cute, but I see where dad’s coming from.

The last couple weeks I’ve told friend-ish acquaintance stories from church. Not this week. I’ve been sick and mom woke me up yesterday to ask if I was going to church and I responded with: “My face hurts.” Are you going though? “Mom my face hurts.” So you’re not going to church? “No.” Okay check the roast later. Yes mommy. I walk out a little later before she leaves and I go “My face hurts.” Yes, I get it. So no great story there. And my hand in marriage came up yesterday at work. AGAIN! There’s a CNA that keeps telling me, with people around, that I’m coming back with a guy. NO! Not what I’m going for, not happening.

Panicky, Judgemental Kid.

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I was recently reading a blog and the guy said in high school he was the “nice, boring, judgmental Christian kid” and his wife was the exact opposite. I realize that was me without me realizing that was me. I was the “nice, boring, judgmental Christian kid”. I knew I was the nice Christian kid that was boring. But I didn’t realize until later I was judgmental. I’ve grown out of being judgmental to a point. I still have my moments. I think everyone has those moments. Others cannot always live up to our expectations. Weather it’s the way someone looks, does their job, treats their spouse. It’s kind of a judgmental world. We just have to have a thick skin. There’s that rant.

Now is when I’m going to start going on a random tangent. If some of this doesn’t make sense, I’m sorry. You’ll understand that I’m not making sense today.

I’m obsessed with checking my email these days. There’s so much coming to me. I have training starting in a month. It’s super scary. As much as I don’t enjoy working at a nursing home, I’m unsure of myself leaving now. When I moved home in January, I wasn’t scared. It was home. I was going to be starting work at the nursing home I’d hung out at all my life. (my mom’s worked at the home for years.) Life was good. Now I’m a month away from starting the scariest chapter of my life. (living halfway across the world in a city is a scary thing for a farm kid) It also doesn’t help that I have a sore throat and I’m being super womanly. (sorry, did that come out?) So I’m a little whiny.

In the story that MJ are writing, there’s this guy named Brad. Brad always tells Jane, his counterpoint, to keep treading water and she never understood why. Jane just assumes that it’s this little encouraging thing he tells her when he bought her this cheap souvenir. One night, he takes Jane to a beach and they’re overlooking the ocean. He points out a lighthouse he used to play at with his siblings and Brad tells Jane this tragic story about how his little sister died over there when they were kids and he felt guilty about not being able to save her. Brad then explains to Jane that’s why he tells her to keep treading water. He couldn’t save his sister, but if Jane keeps treading water and her head’s above the water, he can always save her. It’s a nice sentiment. MJ has used that line on me a few times in the recent past. I almost hate when the words I write come to haunt me.

Anyway. Point being is that there is light at the end of the tunnel and there is no need for me to panic. This will all work out. I will be fine. I’ve been telling myself that all afternoon. I really wish I had some wise advice about when one panics or is having a hard time. But the problem with that is, I have problems with that myself. I panic all the time and usually it’s over nothing. I don’t even have great coping methods to it. And I’m young. I know that I’m getting older but I still feel like a kid and haven’t figured out this whole wise thing. That’s probably a reason I panic as well, youth and inexperience.

But you know, looking at this leaving thing, it can be the most rewarding thing of my life. It’s all ready been rewarding because it makes me reflect on my home and the way I’ve been raised. My whole life, I have lived within 120 miles of home. I haven’t lived out of the state of North Dakota. Yes, I love my prairie and my Badlands and the farm. It is who I am. Those things are interwoven with who I am and they will help me when I leave. If you’ve ever been to southwestern North Dakota you look for the beauty of it. It’s not always obvious. But think of it. There’s gentle, rolling hills and rough buttes. Things that are rough but gentle. Things that I think I need as a person. I have been raised by a North Dakota farmer/rancher and nurse. That means I believe in the value of tough, hard work and the value of compassion. The love I have for my home and state will bring me back here but it also has taught me that I have nothing to be worried or panicked about. It has prepared me to leave and rejoice in my victories and provided people that will cry with me in my failures. This doesn’t mean that every other state isn’t beautiful or doesn’t give lessons to people that live there. These are just things I have realized that I’ve learned while I’ve been here. I’m saying I have nothing to be worried about. As long as I don’t forget who I am, I’ll be fine. I’m treading water just fine and might be able to save myself from the panic. Or trust God to do that.