Exercises For the Undexterous

Yes, it is a word. I know 'cause I just looked it up.

A quick review of my last post revealed something to these two-margaritas-deep, one-care-plan-behind eyes: I'm off my game. The books may add up to a great summer, but just like my nursing assessment skills, a few months off has left me a bit rusty. Heck, I still can't come up with the word I really want in the title for this post. I know there's a "medi" amongst the syllables, but that's all I've got to go on. Too bad I can't fake it the way I did my lung assessment today. "Yes Professor, I auscultated all the lung fields. There were no adventitious lung sounds, but there were diminished vesicular sounds."

So for the moment, you'll just have to listen to me practice my scales.

A Morning on the 5th Floor:

Patient: 67yo Caucasian female, Alert and Oriented to only to self, not aware of time, event, or place. Chronic history of dementia, assistance with all ADL's (that's activities of daily living in hospital speak)
Me: Dumping the contents of her bedpan into the toilet.
Patient: (In frail old lady speak) "It's like a cat box"

When I Take Off My Clothes, You'll Find Steel

The true sign of strength - according to one well-adjusted, totally okay with herself late-twenty-something - is the ability to not feel your feelings. Better yet, if you're truly awesome, you won't even have any feelings at all.

For your sake and my own, this is as much as I'm going to divulge at the moment. No one comes here for cotton balls. And more importantly than not giving you what you don't want, I've unintentionally blown this blog up. You see, in a characteristic two-month long episode of compulsive narcissism, I gave out this blog site to everyone I know. Everyone. Actually, knowing you wasn't even a requirement. Basically, if you've been given this site, you can be pretty sure it was for one or all of the following self-serving reasons:


a). I wanted to impress you.
b). I wanted to make you laugh- which would then lead to you either forgiving me for the time I got black-out drunk and puked all over your rug, or you wanting to sleep with me. Or both. In either order.
c). I wanted to a)., which would make you b).
d.) I wanted to preemptively divulge all character flaws so when I puked on the rug it wouldn't be quite such a shock to your system, and therefore totally acceptable behavior on my part.
e.) I wanted to impress you.

Prescience, obviously, is not my strong suit. My world has gotten way too small. I can't keep my lies straight. Worse, I can't even lie, because the person who got here because of b.) was fed a totally different story than person d.). I totally fucked myself. And you.

But I, being an eternal, sunny-sided optimist must admit, it's a damn good excuse for not telling you about when I felt feelings today.

(wheww! close call. Robot facade still intact)

An Accusation

"You've been a woman of few few words lately, even fancy ones."

Acknowledged, accepted, and admitted. But, as it is in my contrary nature, I will break the silence - concisely.

I've been spending the summer "collecting material." This morning, I ended my research in a blur. I hobbled my way to the first day of classes, swallowed a big gulp of mouthwash, started detoxing, and promptly gave up my New School Year's Resolution to like nursing school.

I know I've developed a bit of a reputation around these parts, and you're probably slogging through these sentences hoping for something juicy you can rub your schadenfreude button with. Well if there's one thing I do well, it's fuck things up, which happens to be in my mind, the measure of a great summer. So here goes:

Summer Bookkeeping

Tattoos: +2

Cars untarnished by drunken side-swiping: -1

Divorces caused by me directly: 2 +/- 1

Blackouts: 6 +/- 18

Inappropriate relationships with coworkers: +1

Motorcycle Accidents: 0

Healthy relationships: -2

One night stands: 4, I think

One night stands I wouldn't mind eating breakfast with: 1 +/- 1

Lost panties: -2

Times I thought a homeless man stole my panties: 1

Times I realized I just forgot them at the laundromat when I did laundry two days ago: 1

Spending binges: -$1200

Pairs of overpriced jeans made by designers who prey on my poor body image: +3

Books I've read about famous sailors: +6

Pairs of late night, 7-11 2 for $2.22 Go-Go Taquitos: +7

Go-Go Taquito Bags that I found on my pillow in the morning: +7

Go-Go Taquito stubs that I found in the bag in the morning and ate: +3

Eating Disorders: 1 +/- 1

Times I wanted to crawl in a hole and die: Six, at the very least

Weird evenings involving tattoo artists and Vietnamese Karaoke Houses: 1, thank god

Times I've had to call my boss to bring clothes to me at the hotel I woke up in naked without my clothes: Twice.....Kidding...only once, Thank God.

Times my boss let me tap out of work due to aforementioned personal problems: +2 (down one from last year)

Creepy gifts received from men that are delicately towing the line between a stalker and hopeless romantic: 5 (no significant change from last summer)

Drunk dials: Zero. That's right. Effing zero. I'm awesome. Okay- that's zero I remember, but still I'm awesome.

Number of quadriplegics I've unabashedly hit-on because at the time I found paralysis entirely novel: +1

Number of times said quadriplegic used my phone number: Zero

Number of times I fell down the stairs of the bar where I met said quadriplegic: Once

Times I watched a homeless man dry-hump a mannequin in Wet Seal: +1

Times I thought I found true-love: Zero




I think it was a pretty good summer. You do the math

Update: The Laughter of Children

For one fabulous fortnight, Doublemint and I enjoyed our little white-picket-fence apartment sans caustic shrieks from our lovely neighbor, Alternative School For Hyperactive and Generally Annoying Children. It was glorious. We lounged on our deck, barbecued, languidly reminisced, and generally enjoyed the wholesome American life we are entitled to. Until this morning, when Alternative Camp For Hyperactive and Generally Annoying Children opened its doors. To be fair, they've been around for a week, but only Doublemint has been home to hear them. Since I pretty much ignore all things not directly involving and/or affecting myself, I pretended they were still on vacation. Until this morning.

I called in sick, due to a little eating disorder slash laxative mishap, and planned to spend the morning alternately snuggling with myself and visiting the bathroom. I had a copy of Master and Commander, a glass of low-cal juice, and the laptop was all loaded up ready to play House Season 3 from start to finish. It was going to be great. All the components were in line for a what I like to call, a perfect morning.

Then.

I hear.

Thirty-six children screaming "Greasy, grimy, gopher guts" at the top of their lungs. In unison.


I am going to fucking kill myself.

*******

Or better yet, them.

I guess, since I hadn't taken my stimulants yet, I sort of drifted off during their third refrain of gopher guts. I awoke later, thoroughly disheartened, that the meeting with the school's director and subsequent calling of the cops was merely a dream. Doublemint's been having similar dreams, namely offering our deck for school functions in exchange for periodic silences of our choosing. She's always been sort a diplomat like that.

The usual solutions swam through my mind this morning: death-ray glares from the porch in my teddy, blasting Rage Against the Machine from my Bose Radio, calling the cops. Defeatedly, I resigned myself to grabbing a latte at The Local Hipster Coffee Shop. In an added touch of irony, there is a three-year old bob-haired girl vacantly staring at me between licks of her lollipop as I write this.

But seriously guys, I need some ideas here. This simply cannot be status quo. Right now, the frontrunner solution was offered by Brother. He says if we blast porno, windows open, from inside our apartment, Doublemint and I can't get pegged to the sex-offender list, and it would still be almost as gratifying as dancing around the deck in our lingerie. I have to agree. The sound of so many children simultaneously losing their innocence would pleasure me to no end.
Thoughts?

*****

P.S. Doublemint- If you are reading this, I am not ignoring the events surrounding Saturday night. Like a fine wine, that evening needs to ferment and develop a full bouquet before I can divulge to the world why we should now be charging hourly rates for our company.....

GChat With Doublemint

12:20pm Me: I am useless today

12:22pm Doublemint: Have you noticed that our somewhat odd shower set-up is perfect if all you want to wash is your vag?

12:22pm Me: mp

12:23pm Doublemint: ?

12:23pm Me: Sorry. I wasn't on home row. I meant to say no.

12:24pm Doublemint: home row. ha

12: 24pm Me: home row

12: 31pm Doublemint: But seriously, you should try it.

I Know I Can't Live Without My Sunglasses When.....

I pack them in my purse on a Saturday night in case I will be doing a walk of shame in the morning.