I have, officially, worked my last scheduled 6p to 6a shift as of yesterday. So come Monday at 5:45 in the AM, I will start the day shift schedule I put a bid in on TWO YEARS ago. Now, I am aware that I am the worst morning person in the world - except, of course, for my husband- to whom you may not speak to for the first two hours that he is awake unless you have an extra set of life and limb you want to give up. I'm not any more unpleasent (than I usually am) in the morning, well, because I am ususally only minimally awake, if at all. Everyone that knows me well can tell you stories of phone conversations I've had with them while I was fast asleep.
I haven't the heart to tell everyone I know that they are all THAT BORING TO TALK TO. I sleep so soundly that it usually takes 2 or 3 alarm clocks to bring me to the surface, and then there is nothing that says I won't lay back down after I turn them off. So I guess what I am saying is that I may only have a job for about another week...

My favorite story on this subject is from ages ago when I was a waitress at O'NEAL'S bar and grill. I was suppose to be a work at 10am to set up for lunch, so I got up and showered by about 8:30 like I always did. The next thing I know I wake up, confused as hell, at 2:oopm, wearing my bathrobe with the towel still wrapped around my wet hair - here comes the good part- I was in a position where it is obvious to me that I just sat down on the edge of the bed and eventually just flopped backward, with my legs still hanging off the side. I don't remember being especially tired that morning, but apparently I thought a five hour nap was in order, right then.


"I've always wanted to try soup, but there was the fear of drowning"

Ari- my padna' in crime.

X-mas Group Foto:
Those of you that are missing, and you know who you are, just narrowly escaped having your heads superimposed into this picture as Connie's jaunty new earrings.

Today is my 28th birthday, which offically makes me closer to 30 than to 25 and therefore I believe that I am allowed to send a message to the world...

Screw you guys! I'm going to play BINGO with the rest of the old ladies!!!

And now, I will win the JACKPOT...

The holiday will be in full swing tonight when Gin and Juice both come in from out of town, although I have no idea what time to expect everyone. I suppose now would be a good time to get up off my ass and clean my house, but I am really enjoying just sitting here while Jack Johnson sings to me. He's not really what I call "motivational" music. What we need here is some Jonny Cash...
Nuthin says Christmas like Jonny Cash ... well, maybe this...

For some, it is just the end of another countless semester.
For April, it is the beginning of a great future...

Congratulations April. You Rock!

8:00 AM - Wide awake replaces previously passed out cold. Ouch, what is that? Oh, its my head. Was it always this big and thumpy-like? I’ll just roll over and ask Jason what happened last night. Yes, good idea. My mouth opens, but the big piece of beef jerky that was my tongue no longer functions. It went on strike; can’t work under these conditions. My contacts are in and feeling as crunchy as expected. My teeth feel like I had them textured. Shoes are off, so I guess I made it that far. The black smudge on the back of my hand, I suspect, formed a word at some point. That smudge sparked a few memories, which swirl around in my head and slowly exit my body in a loud groan. Waking up hung over is like a game of Clue for about the first ten minutes, then there is usually a few minutes of forehead slapping when you finally do remember all the dumb things you did. I remember that I wrote some things down on a napkin last night in anticipation this posting. Ya, I’m a dork. Here it is, just like it was written, word for drunk word.

Got cut off at Graham’s.
Danced with Morgan.
Contemplated getting a tattoo with Carrie-Anne.
Got reprimanded by Jack for saying that a guy with full sleeve tattoos looked cool- Jack is wearing vampire teeth and black contacts @ this time.
They let me use this pen, but not buy a drink. Go figure.
Hey, Morgan knows important people.

I remember being totally creeped out when I saw Jack wearing those teeth, black contacts and all black clothes. By the end of the night, I was dragging him out on the dance floor and making him dance to Usher. He may have odd style, but at least he is a good sport.

As a matter of fact, I seem to remember trying to get everyone to dance with me. All of the sudden I’m the Rat King from the Nutcracker. Oh, my. I seem to have molested quite a few of my husband’s friends last night- And some other people to whom I was not properly introduced.
There is a bright side to all this: I’m pretty sure I didn’t puke on my husband in a cab, this time. Unmarried women, listen up! Get the guy, and when the question of “How am I sure he is the one for me?” pops up in your brain, remember this pearl of wisdom:

Find a man that will still love you after you have puked ON HIM in a cab. That’s how I was sure.
(Ah, my favorite New Orleans story- In retrospect, I can’t believe I missed an opportunity to puke on that other guy, Krey-bigdumbass. There is still time, and its on my list.)

9:20 AM – Can’t get the room to hold still long enough to get out of bed. I did manage to peel my contacts out of my eyes. I stared at the saline solution for a long time before I decided NOT to drink it.

11:15 AM- Still wide awake. I guess I’ll take my giant head and roll it like a hamster ball down the hall to the kitchen. I wonder if I can get my whole body into the water pitcher in the fridge. This morning, I believe myself to be osmotic. (My blog -I can make up words if I want to).

I just finished the 2nd of my 3 shifts that are 12-on-12-off, so today all you get are pictures of my 4 landlords. They are so kind to let me live here.

What do we do when it snows in Texas? We put on extra clothes and go play catch just the same as any other day... Then we chew our clothes off and eat all the tasty morsels from the litter box, or at least some of us do.


Einstein is sending us "deathrays" from the background - so everybody play along and fall over dead so she won't feel left out, okay?

Swimming update ( as if you care, but hey, it's my blog ) : 20 laps - not all in a row. Still can't keep up with Brooke, but then again, I've got underwear older than her...

That wench was born mid 1980's and doesn't worry about things that the rest of us are concerned with, like Oatmeal vs Granola in the GottaPoop War of Sometime LastWeek .

Speaking of wars, Brooke's boyfriend is back on Texas soil as of yesterday after a year in Iraq. I guess this means I owe him a few beers or something, right? I'll do that as soon as Brooke stops continuously licking him. From the way she talks, that phase won't be over for a couple of weeks, at least.

This past Friday was the Respiratory Care Department's Christmas Party- or is it politically correct to say "Holiday Party"? Whatever ya want to call it, it sucked the big one. First of all, no booze allowed. I know what you're thinking - "and you went anyway?". Free food wins again. So we had dinner from the Branding Iron, then the City Bus Trolley's picked us up and took us on a tour of the Doctors' houses so we could see the true meaning of Christmas- which is of course, to make the largest, most vulgar display of Christmas lights on the block. The trend this year : giant snow globes that sit in the front yard. They have a blower in them that constantly circulates fake snow. Some Christmas freaks have 2 or 3 going at once. People, enough! Jason was nice enough to go with me so I would have someone to bounce my snide comments off of, but when he found out there was not going to be any booze he hung out on the back of the trolley and got "trolley jolly" from the fumes. So after we rode all over Tanglewood and Country Club we went to the Chief of Staff's house for coffee and desserts. Nice, built in the 30's, lots of beautiful archways and finely finished original wood. Then there was his wife: nice, built in the 70's, lots of beautiful archways, finely sculpted although original NOTHING. The wife was about what I expected, but the house was much less grand than I thought it would be, especially since this is the only guy that could fire us all for looking at him wrong. The house had the feel of a funeral parlor. I wonder what's in the basement... Is he keeping spare parts down there?
Here we go number crunchers - if you add up the cost of all the decorations and lights that we saw that night, even just a rough "ball park" estimate, I would safely say it would easily exceed my gross income last YEAR. Then, add the electric bill increases and POOF- there's my income this year. That doctor's wife easily spent Jason's monthly income on candles for that party. But think of all the joy... fuck that, I think the intended emotion is envy. Sorry guys, you missed it, from me you got disgust - and a sticky spot next to the chair I was sitting in where I dropped my danish when nobody was looking. Danish on a $15,000 rug is still a waste of a good cream cheese danish. Shame on me. There I go again, shittin' on Christmas.
I might as well just forget the whole thing and hang out with the middle eastern cardiology surgeons this holiday...

Faa, Allah, Allah, Lala, Lala- La?

Note: Some of you may have noticed a hint of venom in this posting. We here at the foundation for I'm Going to Have My Fucking 28th Birthday This Month and That Pretty Much Makes Me 30 (IGTHMF28BTMATPMMM30 on the NASDAQ) regret to inform you that there may be more of these kind of postings in the next coming weeks. Please be patient , as we are experiencing some emotional difficulty. We hope to have everything back to normal by... February. June, at the latest.