Book Face

Day: Three Hundred and Twenty Four

Photo taken on Tuesday, June 21, 2011 in the Time Out Room at 1030pm.

I don't know about you but sometimes I go on Facebook and it makes me feel awful. Sometimes I come away feeling very unpopular like when I see one of our friends throwing a party and realize we are NOT invited. Or sometimes it makes me feel like I haven't accomplished anything worthwhile like when people from high school own a house now or have popped out more than one kid. Or sometimes it just makes me flat out mad when I see everyone go on vacations all year round and I wonder, "how the hell are they paying for all these trips?!"

Facebook makes me think I've done something wrong in my life. It's that grass-is-always-greener concept but some days I don't fall for it. Some days I'm stronger than that status message that says how freakin' awesome everyone's life is right now as they're lying on a beach or going fishing, etc. while I'm at the Surge. But you know what? My life is pretty damn awesome too as I sit here with this Tagalong cookie looking at your vacation pics to Fiji. My life is so awesome that while you're posting all this, I'm posting nothing because I'm too busy living my life to stop and post something about it on Facebook.

So there.

Family Values

Day: Three Hundred and Ten

Photo taken on Tuesday, June 7, 2011 in our parking lot at 641pm.

This is Steve's car. I think his car would look ten times better with this on the back of it:

My Stick Family from WiddlyTinks.com

Don't you agree? (This is what our Stick Family would look like should we get one.)

We're not a fan of the Stick Family on the back of mini vans and quasi SUVs. I don't care about your bazillion pets and that your son skateboards and your daughter is a cheerleader. I'm not interested that there's a shopping bag in the mom's hand and her husband is carrying a briefcase. Oh how adorable! No, not really because more often than not, this car is drifting back and forth in the lane and I can clearly see the culprit on the cell phone. The Stick Family is right up there with the Honor Student bumper sticker and the ever annoying white sticker ovals with the abbreviated black letters that spell something like N-D-O and now I'm spending my whole car ride trying to figure out what the hell that means. I like bumper stickers that are funny like: IF YOU CAN READ THIS I'm not impressed. Most people can read. But I have to admit, I'm one of those self important douches with the 26.2 on the back of my vehicle so I'm just as bad as you Stick Family people.

Dad doesn't like these family stickers either and would only like them if they portrayed the family members dying in StickDeath.com fashion. So when I see this video on Tosh.0, I feel it is perfect for my father:

"Look away, I'm hideous!"

Day: Two Hundred and Forty

Photo taken on Tuesday, March 29, 2011 in my office at 1144am.

The Surge is still in ancient times with their paper charts and no website though bossdad is totally onboard with getting futuristic. Last year I finally convince them to let me start scanning medical records to free up some space (even though I have been told my medical records room should be cleared out so we can turn it into a private locker room. Yeah. Can you figure out how I feel about that?)

Anyway, this is how I put the patient numbers in order so when I'm not in the office (like that ever happens) and someone needs a number they can find it here in the marble notebook (which they won't bother to do so I'm not sure why I go through the trouble).

Though in the middle of the process James walks in and busts out laughing. "You look like a freak!" This makes me laugh too and then right on his heels, Cassandra walks in and exclaims, "You're like Edward Scissorhands!" I have to hand it to my coworkers, they take a dull moment in medical records and make in funny for me. Thanks guys!

^_\

Fork 'em

Day: Two Hundred and Thirty Five

Photo taken on Thursday, March 24, 2011 by our water heater at 1038pm.

I'm feeling a bit devilish today because apparently our water heater is leaking and causing damage to the apartment below. I take a sick satisfaction upon hearing this because I detest the people underneath us since all they do is engage in domestic verbal abuse and door slamming.

So being that I'm feeling a bit mean today this is a way I can show it to you without actually drawing horns coming out of my head (which I was going to do but thought it would be fun to tell you the story as to why I'm throwing the pitchfork instead).

Pher went to Arizona State University for both his undergrad and grad degrees and he is a total Sun Devil through and through. He teaches us their "school sign" early on in his career but until his Ireland wedding, I have never seen it thrown that many times (and I even went down there for a hockey tourney in my sophomore year and don't recall the audience throwing it but that could be because we were WINNING). Pher even stands up at the reception to tell his fellow college buddies that there is a limit at the bar, then when it's up we all have to start paying for drinks. He cleverly tells them, "This event is a marathon, not a sprint." And once he concludes his thank you speech, all the Sun Devils in the room sprint  to the bar and leave all of us on pace in the dust.

So when I polish off my first Smithwicks in a true "marathon pace" I make my way towards the bar. "I'll have another please," I politely say to the bartender, tip in my hand even though it's probably rude to tip like this out of the states but I do it anyway. The bartender places my brew in front of me and tells me it will cost me.

Like hell it will.

I make my way across the room to complain to dad. He is being "Ireland Wedding Dad" and totally doesn't care about my plight. I then bring my case to anyone who will listen, rile up the masses until I am satisfied with their belligerence, and then take it to the groom. We are only two hours into the reception and already his buddies (who, don't get me wrong, are definitely a fun time and still likeable after this) have successfully figured out a way to drink all night for free. They have designated a table to place all of the drinks they have collected from the bar and keep going back there when in need of another beverage. I am tempted to take from this table too (or knock it over) but choose to bring it to Pher's attention.

Pher really doesn't care about my dilemma of not getting to the bar fast enough for free drinks. Without having an appropriate way to release my frustration, I throw his Sun Devils sign in his face and yell, "THE DEVILS!!! BLAAAHHHHHH!" This then prompts him to get defensive. When Pher gets defensive he turns his body to the side, puffs out his chest and arms, and tries to find the words to yell back at you but usually only the F-bomb emerges with a U after it. Dad eventually sees this mature display of sibling love, gets between us, and gives me a bunch of Euros for the bar to shut me up.

It definitely works and by the early morning we are all happily [drunkenly] singing [slurring] Piano Man and all is good in the world...until we have to get on that bus to see the Cliffs of Moher four hours later and I need a Dramamine [hangover cure] badly.

New York State of Mind

Day: One Hundred and Fifty Six

Photo taken on Tuesday, January 4, 2011 in Central Park at 1241pm.

I do not get the hype of the reservoir, especially in the winter when the trees are bare and none of the flowers are in bloom. To me it looks kind of depressing. Normally I do not walk up by New York City's Atlantic Ocean but the snow has made it impossible to walk on the outside track. So now I have to suffer through the tourists in order to get in my lunch walk.

It is almost as bad as Time's Square up here. Everyone is taking pictures of themselves by the desolate trees and skimpy riverbank. They "ooh" and "aah" over the ducks in their home language and then turn around and walk the wrong way around the track. This infuriates me because no matter what language you speak, we all speak the language of arrows. There are several signs posted along the path showing you to go counterclockwise. It's pretty simple. 9 times out of 10 the person walking towards you isn't from here. The other 1 out of 10 is just a bunch of rich high schoolers that are rebelling. Both groups do not bother getting out of your way either and instead I have to step off the path to let them by and then they think this means I'm volunteering to take their picture for them. If I had a nickel for every time this happens, I wouldn't be working at the Surge anymore.

Exhibit A

Day: Sixty

Photo taken on Thursday, September 30, 2010 at 745pm in the kitchen.

There is only one key fob to get into the community gym and I will give you one guess where it is not...

Steve likes to be the keeper of the key fob even though you couldn't pay him enough to use the community gym on his own. I have asked him to put the key fob on a key chain I have provided for him yet he continues to leave it on his set of keys. Normally Steve would be home to escort me to the gym but tonight he is out visiting with Paul. This means no key fob. This also means I cannot complete my training for the night which ultimately means I'm sort of angry.