Lockout!

Today I locked my keys in my car, and I had to hang out in my garage for about an hour waiting for a locksmith to come let me in.

But it could have been a lot worse. It could have been like that one time in college.

I was on the swim team, and every year the team took a training trip to Florida after Christmas. Except the year my coach was about to pop out a baby. We got to stay in steamin' Bloomington, IL. Of course, we still took beach pictures:

On the second-to-last day of our "trip," Coach told us that we had earned the next day off. Winter training was done! I hadn't felt homesick since going to college, until that moment. I was exhausted, grumpy, and in pain. 


I only lived an hour away, so I packed up a few things and went out to my car. There had been an ice storm a few days earlier, and my car was coated in an inch-thick layer. Of course, my ice scraper was in my trunk, which was impossible to access. 


Being very resourceful, I quickly discovered that my big plastic comb was perfect for chipping away the ice. I cleared the driver's side door, started the car, and loaded my belongings in. I made sure that the doors were unlocked, and then started going to town on the front windshield. 

I'd been chipping away for at least 10 minutes, enough to clear half the windshield, when I heard "CLICK." I shuffled over to my door and tried the handle. For reasons that remain a mystery to me, Dorothy had locked herself.


Everything was inside the car. My dorm keys. My phone. Campus was closed and deserted. All I had was that stupid comb. And my shoulders hurt like a bitch.

I tried the handle again. Like my wishful thinking was going to magically unlock the door.

I waddled across the street to the athletic center, hoping against hope that my coach was still there. No luck. 

I was walking back to my car, deciding my next move. I would see if there was anyone at the security office. If not, I could use the phone at Walgreens. I just felt like crying. Actually, I may have. I wanted to be at home, in my warm bed, pumped up with Advil.

Then I saw a girl from my dorm unlocking the back door to the building. She was from out of state, moving back in a day early. She let me use her phone, my mom came to Bloomington with an extra key, and I made it back to Peoria for an extra day with my family. So the story has a happy ending, but it was moderately tortuous.


So, today was actually pretty good. Weather wasn't too bad. I had a phone. The locksmith was nice. And then I got to watch Arrested Development all afternoon while eating gelato.

Scamps

One year, there was a toy that I really really wanted for Christmas. Actually, that was every year.

But that year, it was a toy puppy. He had a slit in his stomach that you could use to attach him to his "leash." It was like a push toy, and it it would bark when you took the dog for a walk.

We have the video of me finding this gift under the tree. I'm hugging the dog and dancing around as I say, "At last! Santa gave me Scamps!"

It sounds like slang for some new STD.

Personal Space Issues

Conversation in the nurse's station about the long-term effects of growing up with parents who force you to give weird Aunt Gertrude a hug and kiss, even if you don't want to:

Coworker 1: "Just because a coworker asks for a hug, doesn't mean you have to give it."

Coworker 2: "But it feels rude not to. I don't want to offend someone."

Coworker 3: "No! You shouldn't have to touch people you don't feel comfortable touching. Forget if they feel offended, they need to respect your bubble."

Coworker 1: "See, this is how women get raped."

Coworker 4: "And how kids get herpes!"

Maybe I'm Not So Clumsy After All?

I routinely make fun of the fact that I trip over my own feet at least twice an hour. Coordination has never been a super strength of mine. But I pulled off quite a feat yesterday.

I'm becoming a more organized person (it's been a work in progress for about 10 years now), and I got one of those shelf things that you can put those canvas baskets into and things look all organized and beautiful like in the magazines. Of course, the people who live in magazines also have half the volume of belongings as 93% of the people who are looking at said magazines.

Anyway, the shelving unit came in a 3x1 foot box weighing about 45 pounds. This girl not only managed to hold the box while unlocking and opening the door, but also succeeded at balancing on one foot while using the other to pull the door shut by its handle.

I feel pretty awesome.

Still can't walk in a straight line....

BEEP!

I hate beeping noises. Especially microwaves that continue on with all four "I'm done" chimes even after you open the door. Yes, microwave! I know! Food's done, now shut up!

I was charge nurse the other day, and as I was checking the crash cart, I started hearing this steady buzzing noise. I tried to find the source, checking every piece of equipment I could find. I looked in the storage room, the nurses' stations, the day room TVs, the printers and fax machines, the elevators, everywhere. And I could not find the source of that stupid noise!

Finally, I gave up and had to get some work done. One of the other nurses came into the nurses' station and asked, "What's that buzzing noise?"

"I have no idea! It's driving me nuts! I've looked all over the unit, and I can't figure out where it's coming from."

"No, it's just in the nurses station...It sounds like a phone..."

I pulled out my hospital cell phone. The buzzing that had been annoying the daylights out of me for the past half hour was in my freaking pocket the whole time...

Snake in a House

I came home from swim practice one evening in high school. On my way to put my towels in the dryer, I noticed a fake rubber snake lying on the floor of the hallway. My dad likes to play practical jokes. He has fake poop and barf and all sorts of fun stuff, so I wasn't too shocked.

As I was passing it on the way out of the laundry room, I stopped for a closer look. It was the most realistic-looking fake snake I had ever seen. "Look at that!," I thought, "They must have used black beads for the eyes or something...they look so real!"

And I started wondering, "Is it really fake?" I stood there staring at it for several minutes, and it was as still as a rock. But I still had my suspicions.

So, I reached down veeeery slooooowly and lightly poked it's side. It slithered forward a few inches.

"Hey, Mom, there's a snake here in the hallway."

"What? Yeah, right."

"No, come here and look at it."

"Lauren, it's fake."

"No! I just touched it, and it moved!"

"Nice try."

"No, look! Watch!" I reached down and poked it again.

This time it decided to flee behind the refrigerator. Eventually it reemerged, and we trapped it under a plastic box. We tried to transfer it to a big glass jar so that my sister could take it to school with her the next day, but that snake was pissed and did not cooperate. So we let him go in the back yard.

House of Horrors

House on the Rock is basically an eclectic museum of collections in Wisconsin. 

We took a "girls day" trip there with my mom when I was in high school. One of the displays is a doll collection. It's petrifying. I swear to God, some of them had fangs. For real. They had teeth, and they were not shaped like squares. They were definitely sharp, menacing little mouth triangles.

Any girl that plays with old-fashioned dolls is seriously brave. Especially if she sleeps with them in her room while they stare at her all night.

Monica used to tell me that her American Girl doll, Molly, had a little knife that she would cut me with while I was sleeping. "That's what happens when you have cuts or bruises and you don't know where they came from. It's Molly. So don't annoy me, or she'll come after you."

Overloaded

You know you watch too many forensic shows when it is not an uncommon occurrence for you to recognize a crime on one program after seeing an episode about it on a different program....

And when you can recognize the voice of the Burger King commercial narrator because he also narrates Forensic Files.

Career Change?

One of my coworkers recently asked me, "Do you sing?"

"Not even in the shower." (Probably partly because of that time I was singing in the shower in high school and my little sister started pounding on the door, begging me to stop the torture).

"Because if you sing, you would have the perfect alto voice. It has a very nice quality."

Surprisingly, it's not the first time I've heard this comment.

There was a cabbie one time who insisted that I sing for him while he was giving me a ride. After 5 minutes of begging, I actually did sing. I figured, "I'm never going to see this guy again, I might as well prove him wrong..." And at the end of the ride, he gave me his digits and made me promise that I would call him in 3 days after practicing. I "lost his number" almost immediately after getting out of the cab.

And when I was a lifeguard in high school, one of the pool dads suggested that I go into broadcasting or read books on tape.

So my coworker suggested that if I ever want a career change, I should definitely consider being a professional narrator. It sounds like it could be a pretty glamorous lifestyle. Wouldn't that be great, for people to have no idea who you are until you speak and they're like, "OH MY GOD!!! I know you!!!"

I don't think I'll be the next David Attenborough, but I can dream....

Sinus Infection Cure

I've been getting this stinkin' recurring sinus infection since October.

My attempts at home remedy include the usual. Decongestants. Fluids. Humidifier. Neti pot (gag). 

Also, spicy food. As in, a 16 oz jar of hot giardiniera within a 24 hour period. Plus sushi with plenty of wasabi. Can't say that it was very effective. But it sure was tasty!

Lets hope this third round of antibiotics licks it for good...

Quotes From the Psych Unit

"You like my hair? Gracias, amiga! I put my panties on my head. You see? I wash them in the sink, and then I put them on my head."

"I feel much happier now. Maybe I can go get some pizza when I go home. I need new socks."

"Can I please have a medium-long banana?"

"I ain't no infidant!"

From a patient who was trying to find her social worker, "Hey, Christine. Are you Liz?"

"You're all a bunch %^@*@!# of Nazi Jews!"

From a patient who was planning to lead a Bible study in the day room, when provided The Book:
"Oh, thank God! I'm gonna Bible the whore out of that bitch!"

Fact of the Day

Bayer originally developed heroin as a "more effective" (faster acting) form of morphine.

Lies I Have Believed

1. "You need to eat your bread crust. It has more nutrients than the rest of the bread."

A very creative ploy to stop me from wasting half the sandwich. I had this one so drilled into my head that it wasn't until high school that I really thought about it and realized it wasn't true. But without this lie I may never have realized that edges are where it's at.

2. If you pierce your belly button, it will make your period shorter.

This is about 87% of why I got my belly button pierced when I was 16. The other 13% was because people would never expect it. In my defense, one of my sisters' friends gave me a first-hand report of shortened periods. Plus, with those vomit-inducing cramps I got, I was a little desperate.

3. "Those scratches and bruises that you get that you don't remember how you got? It's Molly. She comes into your room in the middle of the night with a little knife..." Monica frightening me with tales about  her American Girl Doll.


Here's what's not a lie: Dolls are creepy.