Kathleen thinks I should mention her more in my blog.
Unfortunately, that type of request comes with the prerequisite (that word just took me 7 or 8 attempts) of fitting into this jumble I call my quarter-life crisis. Since I didn't enlighten anyone with my wisdom tooth adventure-- and let's face it, how enlightening is 4 days on the couch, watching Man v. Food and popping pills?-- I will entertain my readers (all...3... of you) with an introspective piece about my friends.
Also, my Vicodin just kicked in.
Let's start with my high school friends. We knew each other through several different paths, whether it be through biology or band classes, through a friend who was dating a dude in a group from another school, or even from chance encounters, like sharing the same birthday.
Today, I know that most of those friends are still there for me, even though they're scattered here and there-- some back in Wenatchee, some in different states, and some even in different countries. I know who my best friends are, too, because we can pick up our friendship like we never spent weeks or years without seeing each other. The technology called social media helps alleviate the distance, but it doesn't remedy the distance.
My parents always worried that I was friends with too many boys and that I would never have a good group of girlfriends from back home. Well, I'm happy that I do have a group of friends who share silly memories from high school: Kate, Tanja, Cara, and Beth. I'm not discounting any of my other friendships, but it's good to have those girls as best friends. I also can't believe that three of them are getting married in 2010. Anyway.
To add to that, not only do I have wonderful friends from my hometown, I met amazing people in college. What would I do without Erin, Ari, Ashley, Kili, Victor, Joe, Cameron, etc.?
Actually, I know what happens when I can't be around my friends as much as I want: everything goes haywire. Last year was by far the most bleak and depressing year on file for me. I don't like to dread going back to the city in which I live, and I don't like living alone. I don't like only have phone or online contact with people. I don't even like to inundate my blogs with terrible poetry.
I made the right choice in moving to Seattle. I can deal with a commute, as long as it means I'm closer to several friends. It doesn't make me closer to all, and it makes me further from some, but it's okay. I feel alive again.
My roommate Heidi and I just walked down to Cupcake Royale and had warm drinks and apple caramel cupcakes. That was something so simple, but I value things like that much more now after experiencing near rock-bottom last year.
Anyway, I could go on and on and on about how great my friends are. But instead, I think I'll get ready for bed and take an extended Vicodin nap.
Also, Erin, I'm going to go to Spain, one way or another.
Also, Kate, you're a face.
...this whole post wasn't too trite was it?
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Wisdom Tooth Adventure
I'm back in Seattle after spending Thursday night til this afternoon in East Wenatchee. I had all four wisdom teeth taken out, and whoo-boy, was that fun.
I got laughing gas for the first time ever. I tried really hard to continue to make sense while the nurses prepped me and talked to me. I think I did an okay job, although I might have lost them when I started to talk about the multi-line phone program I have at work. They also gave me an anti-nausea medication through the IV, so there was no puking-- thanks, Cameron, for that scare. So, that was nice.
Back to the laughing gas.
I didn't think I was getting terribly sleepy or light-headed until all of the nurses, except one, left the room. Have you ever been taking a test and suddenly remembered something absolutely hilarious? And you obviously weren't in a setting where you could tell someone else what was funny or even laugh out loud? That was the feeling I got, only there was no joke or specific incident. I controlled myself enough not to burst out laughing or tell the nurse that something (and I don't know what) was really funny.
After that, I think I just closed my eyes and fell asleep for most of the procedure. The doctor, Dr. Collins, told me beforehand that even if I woke up, I would be in a place where I didn't care what was happening. I was skeptical, but it proved true. I woke up somewhere between the second or third tooth, and I was aware of everyone talking and some poking and prodding going on. I don't remember many specifics because, like the doctor said, I just didn't care. I couldn't feel anything anyway.
I do recall the crew moving on to the final tooth: the sideways impacted lower left tooth. I remember some noise and prodding, and then the doctor saying, "...we're going to have to go in at a different angle." Thanks, tooth. When I looked in the mirror later in the afternoon, I noticed the left corner of my lip was busted up. I wonder why.
After the procedure, most of the operating team left. They took me off the gas, and I slowly regained consciousness (uh, sort of). The entire time, soothing piano music was playing, so it was kind of like I woke up during a dream sequence (that doesn't make sense, but whatever). When I left the office, a nurse and my 90-year-old father helped me out the door (that's just funny).
I spent the next several hours unable to talk, since the entire lower half of my mouth was numb. I watched Pirates of the Caribbean and tried to drink some juice. I say "tried" because the first attempt ended with half the juice on my sweatshirt. The rest of the day went like this: ice, couch, mashed potatoes, and TV.
Saturday went more like this: Vicodin, TV, 5-hour nap, and hang-out time with Tanja. We got DQ Blizzards (om nom nom), went to Hastings and Macy's, and got some potato snacks at Shari's. I chose potato pancakes; she got baked potato skins. Yay for carbs.
Sunday was a bit more exciting. I went to Old Navy and Target with my mom, and I picked up some new shirts and a set of flannel sheets. Score! Then I plopped down on the couch and watched the all-day Man v. Food marathon.
Yesterday, I watched more TV (duh) and eventually drove myself to Wenatchee. I went to Kinko's and finished copying some material for grad school applications. Afterward, I tried a new restaurant, Spring Lotus, because I was craving pho. It was excellent, and I drove home with warm soup belly (HIMYM fans, you feel me on that one?).
That brings me to today. Went to a post-op check-up, took a nap, packed up, and got on the bus back to the west side. I apparently conked out somewhere before Stevens Pass and woke up in Gold Bar. Then I drove home to Seattle and did some grocery shopping. Mundane, but necessary.
Anyway. It's time for soup and mashed potatoes. And ice cream. Oh, how I love thee, ice cream.
Moral of the story: Painkillers make me sleepy. And I love potatoes. Is that good enough? I have no insight for you, sorry.
I got laughing gas for the first time ever. I tried really hard to continue to make sense while the nurses prepped me and talked to me. I think I did an okay job, although I might have lost them when I started to talk about the multi-line phone program I have at work. They also gave me an anti-nausea medication through the IV, so there was no puking-- thanks, Cameron, for that scare. So, that was nice.
Back to the laughing gas.
I didn't think I was getting terribly sleepy or light-headed until all of the nurses, except one, left the room. Have you ever been taking a test and suddenly remembered something absolutely hilarious? And you obviously weren't in a setting where you could tell someone else what was funny or even laugh out loud? That was the feeling I got, only there was no joke or specific incident. I controlled myself enough not to burst out laughing or tell the nurse that something (and I don't know what) was really funny.
After that, I think I just closed my eyes and fell asleep for most of the procedure. The doctor, Dr. Collins, told me beforehand that even if I woke up, I would be in a place where I didn't care what was happening. I was skeptical, but it proved true. I woke up somewhere between the second or third tooth, and I was aware of everyone talking and some poking and prodding going on. I don't remember many specifics because, like the doctor said, I just didn't care. I couldn't feel anything anyway.
I do recall the crew moving on to the final tooth: the sideways impacted lower left tooth. I remember some noise and prodding, and then the doctor saying, "...we're going to have to go in at a different angle." Thanks, tooth. When I looked in the mirror later in the afternoon, I noticed the left corner of my lip was busted up. I wonder why.
After the procedure, most of the operating team left. They took me off the gas, and I slowly regained consciousness (uh, sort of). The entire time, soothing piano music was playing, so it was kind of like I woke up during a dream sequence (that doesn't make sense, but whatever). When I left the office, a nurse and my 90-year-old father helped me out the door (that's just funny).
I spent the next several hours unable to talk, since the entire lower half of my mouth was numb. I watched Pirates of the Caribbean and tried to drink some juice. I say "tried" because the first attempt ended with half the juice on my sweatshirt. The rest of the day went like this: ice, couch, mashed potatoes, and TV.
Saturday went more like this: Vicodin, TV, 5-hour nap, and hang-out time with Tanja. We got DQ Blizzards (om nom nom), went to Hastings and Macy's, and got some potato snacks at Shari's. I chose potato pancakes; she got baked potato skins. Yay for carbs.
Sunday was a bit more exciting. I went to Old Navy and Target with my mom, and I picked up some new shirts and a set of flannel sheets. Score! Then I plopped down on the couch and watched the all-day Man v. Food marathon.
Yesterday, I watched more TV (duh) and eventually drove myself to Wenatchee. I went to Kinko's and finished copying some material for grad school applications. Afterward, I tried a new restaurant, Spring Lotus, because I was craving pho. It was excellent, and I drove home with warm soup belly (HIMYM fans, you feel me on that one?).
That brings me to today. Went to a post-op check-up, took a nap, packed up, and got on the bus back to the west side. I apparently conked out somewhere before Stevens Pass and woke up in Gold Bar. Then I drove home to Seattle and did some grocery shopping. Mundane, but necessary.
Anyway. It's time for soup and mashed potatoes. And ice cream. Oh, how I love thee, ice cream.
Moral of the story: Painkillers make me sleepy. And I love potatoes. Is that good enough? I have no insight for you, sorry.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
You Can Stand Under My Umbrella
...now that I own one.
Nothing like going to Target with the roomie, buying cheap Cracklin' Oat Bran, and buying an awesome new umbrella. I think I said, "Look! I can sling it over my shoulder! I can use it as a cane!" repeatedly. Awe. Some.
Anyway, back to work. I just wanted to share.
Nothing like going to Target with the roomie, buying cheap Cracklin' Oat Bran, and buying an awesome new umbrella. I think I said, "Look! I can sling it over my shoulder! I can use it as a cane!" repeatedly. Awe. Some.
Anyway, back to work. I just wanted to share.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Lesson Learned
Today was unremarkable. I had one thing to look forward to, and that was a book club meeting. It was a chance to meet new potential friends and start getting back into reading.
Small problem, though. I'm not good at taking the bus yet, and I didn't want to pay for a cab. I tried to drive to the meeting spot, and subsequently ended up driving around for half an hour. There were pay parking spots, cash only, for $4. I had $3. Boo.
Case in point, I missed my book club. On the upside, one of the girls should be e-mailing me with any choices they make as far as books and/or meeting times. But seriously, lame night.
I registered for an ORCA card and a library card, though. I suppose that's good.
Oh, also, I can push forward on graduate school applications because I took the GRE. Hooray!
Small problem, though. I'm not good at taking the bus yet, and I didn't want to pay for a cab. I tried to drive to the meeting spot, and subsequently ended up driving around for half an hour. There were pay parking spots, cash only, for $4. I had $3. Boo.
Case in point, I missed my book club. On the upside, one of the girls should be e-mailing me with any choices they make as far as books and/or meeting times. But seriously, lame night.
I registered for an ORCA card and a library card, though. I suppose that's good.
Oh, also, I can push forward on graduate school applications because I took the GRE. Hooray!
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Sunny Day Real Estate w/ The Jealous Sound
I bought tickets to the SDRE show the day they went on sale. How could I miss this reunion tour? And how could I miss a show at The Paramount in Seattle, SDRE's hometown? (Honestly, though, it passed me that they were a Seattle band for years and years.)
Anyway, I'll make this short. The concert was better than I hoped for. The opening band was really good, and I ended up in the front row. That last part surprised me-- Kyle and I had to slog through Everett-Seattle traffic after I got done at work, and I was sure we were running late. Guess not, though; the GA floor was still really open when we arrived at 8 or so.
One other aspect that made me smile: There were two girls who were standing in front of me for most of the first band's set, and they were both 5'1" or under. That never happens to me. Everyone who stands in front of me at concerts is at least tall enough to shove their mid-spine into my nose.
Regardless, the music was great, and the energy levels were high, both from the band and the audience. I'm still a bit in awe that I got to see this particular favorite band of mine play live. To put it in perspective, Diary, an amazingly wonderful album, was released in 1994; I was 9-years-old. The band went through line-up changes and broke up, ultimately, in 2001. I think it was around that time when I first discovered Diary.
Sorry, Britney and JT, I have a new favorite concert.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Mr. Walkway!
Mr. Walkdownmei'mthewalkway.
It wasn't too long ago that I feared my awkwardness was a liability. I was too random, too loud, and too involved with school. Now these qualities provide the foundation for the rest of me. What made me "uncool" years ago is just what makes me... me. And nowadays, I really like me.
On "Fresh Air" last night, the interviewee said "[my mother] told me that when I found myself, I would be beautiful."
I second that statement, with all my being.
It wasn't too long ago that I feared my awkwardness was a liability. I was too random, too loud, and too involved with school. Now these qualities provide the foundation for the rest of me. What made me "uncool" years ago is just what makes me... me. And nowadays, I really like me.
On "Fresh Air" last night, the interviewee said "[my mother] told me that when I found myself, I would be beautiful."
I second that statement, with all my being.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
8th Grade Reading Level
Out of curiosity, I ran an analysis on this blog which determined the reading level of my page. As it turns out, this blog is somewhere in the 8th grade range. I apologize for that but not wholeheartedly. In fact, I don't apologize at all. I'm going to retract my previous statement. If you want good blog reading, you should probably follow my friends, Ashley and Ian. They're both pursuing advanced degrees in English or writing or something like that.
I, however, will be pursuing an advanced degree in higher education administration. More precisely, I will be pursuing a degree in student affairs administration or student development administration or college student services admin-- you get the idea.
However, I won't say that I wasn't concerned when I saw the low grade on my page. I ran sections of my statement of purpose through the "grader" to make sure I wasn't going to cheat myself out of hundreds of dollars; what I mean is, I don't want my SOP to look like a junior high schooler wrote it. To my relief, the SOP passages came back at a much higher difficulty rating, putting me in the range of college graduates. (Phew.)
I'm pretty pooped from studying for the GRE. I would say that I can't wait until Saturday for it to be done with, but the way things are going, I may have to take the exam again. Looks like the ETS just may get another $150 out of me. For what? Proving myself against the rest of grad school hopefuls, I suppose.
I, however, will be pursuing an advanced degree in higher education administration. More precisely, I will be pursuing a degree in student affairs administration or student development administration or college student services admin-- you get the idea.
However, I won't say that I wasn't concerned when I saw the low grade on my page. I ran sections of my statement of purpose through the "grader" to make sure I wasn't going to cheat myself out of hundreds of dollars; what I mean is, I don't want my SOP to look like a junior high schooler wrote it. To my relief, the SOP passages came back at a much higher difficulty rating, putting me in the range of college graduates. (Phew.)
I'm pretty pooped from studying for the GRE. I would say that I can't wait until Saturday for it to be done with, but the way things are going, I may have to take the exam again. Looks like the ETS just may get another $150 out of me. For what? Proving myself against the rest of grad school hopefuls, I suppose.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
All About Flannel
Nah. That would be way too boring.
I generally dislike winter. Sure, snow's pretty to look at, and sometimes I even go snowboarding or sledding, but other than that, snow/ice/cold cramps my style. I'm a summer girl; I feel and look better in the summer. It's this simple fact that causes me to miss my Wenatchee summers. 90 degrees during the day! Tank top weather at night! Now that's summer weather-- none of this 70-degree, wussy stuff I've been living with for the past four years.
When fall and winter sneak back, I find myself struggling with clothing choices. I'm proud to say I expanded my cold weather wardrobe last year, and I'm continuing to do so. It's almost to the point where I look good a majority of the time. That also means I have a lot of boots. I never thought I would be a person with a boot fetish, but I have a tub of boots now. It's my treasure chest.
I suppose winter (note: I keep referring to fall and winter as just "winter." Take that, cold weather.) does give me an excuse to snuggle up in blankets. I have an electric blanket, and it's heavenly.
This post really has little direction, so I'll end my rambling with just a few more thoughts.
One: There was frost on my car last night. Not. Cool.
Two: A dear friend's wedding took place yesterday. It was so much fun-- everything about the day made me smile. (And there were funfetti cupcakes.)
Three: Flannel sheets are awesome. I'm totally buying myself another set from Target when the ridiculous holiday prints come out.
I generally dislike winter. Sure, snow's pretty to look at, and sometimes I even go snowboarding or sledding, but other than that, snow/ice/cold cramps my style. I'm a summer girl; I feel and look better in the summer. It's this simple fact that causes me to miss my Wenatchee summers. 90 degrees during the day! Tank top weather at night! Now that's summer weather-- none of this 70-degree, wussy stuff I've been living with for the past four years.
When fall and winter sneak back, I find myself struggling with clothing choices. I'm proud to say I expanded my cold weather wardrobe last year, and I'm continuing to do so. It's almost to the point where I look good a majority of the time. That also means I have a lot of boots. I never thought I would be a person with a boot fetish, but I have a tub of boots now. It's my treasure chest.
I suppose winter (note: I keep referring to fall and winter as just "winter." Take that, cold weather.) does give me an excuse to snuggle up in blankets. I have an electric blanket, and it's heavenly.
This post really has little direction, so I'll end my rambling with just a few more thoughts.
One: There was frost on my car last night. Not. Cool.
Two: A dear friend's wedding took place yesterday. It was so much fun-- everything about the day made me smile. (And there were funfetti cupcakes.)
Three: Flannel sheets are awesome. I'm totally buying myself another set from Target when the ridiculous holiday prints come out.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Vote
Today, I updated my voter registration. I will be a registered voter in King County.
Weird.
Also, Stumptown Coffee is amazing, especially on a Friday morning. And especially when coffee was out of the picture all week.
Leavenworth Oktoberfest tomorrow. They added several new beers. I'm excited for the crowds and the delicious smell of sauerkraut and brats.
Add-on:
If I were the president of the USA, and my hometown was in the running to host the Olympics, OF COURSE I would show up to support it. It isn't a question of whether I'm liberal or conservative. Heck, if anywhere in Washington was in the running, I'd go crazy! Jeez. And if my city was running against other "cool" cities and didn't get the bid, it would be absolutely ridiculous for people to tout it as a failure on my part.
Goodness. Seriously? The Olympics going to another city has become a talking point for conservatives? Get real. No way.
Also, protecting marriage does not mean blocking gay marriage. Reform the rules for anyone getting married. Or ban it all together. Do you really need me to dig up all my old debate notes on this topic? Again, get real. No way.
That's the end of my semi-political rant.
(I would be much more composed and elegant with my writing if I felt it would reach "certain people on multiple sides (C.P.M.S.)" but since "C.P.M.S." like to be immature about politics, then I suppose I can tone it down.)
Weird.
Also, Stumptown Coffee is amazing, especially on a Friday morning. And especially when coffee was out of the picture all week.
Leavenworth Oktoberfest tomorrow. They added several new beers. I'm excited for the crowds and the delicious smell of sauerkraut and brats.
Add-on:
If I were the president of the USA, and my hometown was in the running to host the Olympics, OF COURSE I would show up to support it. It isn't a question of whether I'm liberal or conservative. Heck, if anywhere in Washington was in the running, I'd go crazy! Jeez. And if my city was running against other "cool" cities and didn't get the bid, it would be absolutely ridiculous for people to tout it as a failure on my part.
Goodness. Seriously? The Olympics going to another city has become a talking point for conservatives? Get real. No way.
Also, protecting marriage does not mean blocking gay marriage. Reform the rules for anyone getting married. Or ban it all together. Do you really need me to dig up all my old debate notes on this topic? Again, get real. No way.
That's the end of my semi-political rant.
(I would be much more composed and elegant with my writing if I felt it would reach "certain people on multiple sides (C.P.M.S.)" but since "C.P.M.S." like to be immature about politics, then I suppose I can tone it down.)
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