Disengaged, unenthralled, bored.

Doodle, the only productive thing I've done all week.

olks, I have something to admit. I am so, so, SO bored.

I have the last-semester-EVER at a university itch, and I absolutely cannot stay engaged. At all. I have never cared less about my education than I do right now. And I should care, since I am paying an arm and a leg for it. I should be wringing every last drop out of it, learning as much as I possibly can.

But here's the thing. And I have never, EVER complained about this before.

My program is teaching me too much in the way of critical thinking and theory. And yet I am in the final year of a baccalaureate degree in SCIENCE, for pete's sake, and I can barely describe the anatomy of the human body in scientific terms, let alone normal physiology. You want to know about disease processes? Forget about it. I feel like I don't remember a darn thing.

I can tell you a great deal about establishing therapeutic relationships, phenomenology, Nursing theory. But it has been two years now since I have learned anything about pharmacology, or nursing process.

Since I now possess excellent critical thinking skills, I know exactly where to find all the information I lack, of course. But I am about to enter into the working world, and here's the thing:

I know exactly what nursing as a profession needs, and I have learned enough that I could probably change the world if I wanted to. But I haven't learned enough about the actual job I will be performing when I graduate to be confident doing it. I never thought I'd say this, but I wish my schooling had involved just a wee bit more memorization work. Especially if it meant writing fewer papers.

I am so, so frustrated. And did you know, internet, that I am taking a class on critiquing research IN MY FINAL YEAR OF EDUCATION? Not, oh, I don't know, in first year, where I could then have used that knowledge every time I chose scientific references for my papers.

I see the value of what I have learned. I am prepared to enter into nursing practice.

But I'm not so sure I feel ready to enter into a nursing JOB.

Good Advice: Never argue with someone who works at a liquor store.

uys, there is something we need to discuss. You must never, EVER argue with a liquor store employee. Not for any reason. Because everywhere else in the world, the customer is always right. I know this. But in the liquor store, the customer is rarely right and usually just ends up looking like a giant douche.

Case in point number 1:
You had this wine the other night. You really liked it, but you got kind of drunk and now you don't remember the name. You aren't sure what grape it was, or where it came from, or even whether the person who introduced you to it bought it at this store. But it was DELICIOUS and you must have it, and will berate me until I produce it for you. Oh, and there was purple on the label, and maybe a dog.

The best possible response you will get from me is a shrug or an "I know the one you are talking about... we don't have it." Even if we do. Just for asking that silly question.

Case in point number 2:
You have already been drinking when you come into the store, and you say so. And when I say I can't serve you because you are already drunk, say "no, I'm not. I'm just high. I smoked some weed, that's all." I raise my eyebrows at you. You spend five minutes putting your money in back in your wallet. You put the wallet back in your pocket. Then you pull it out again and begin counting the money inside. I come around the counter, grab your skateboard, toss it out the door. You chase it.

Case in point number 3:
You kick the door at 10:05 and yell at me because "You still have 10 minutes! I have a cell phone, they broadcast the time from space!"

Sorry, I have trouble taking anyone seriously who claims to have anything broadcast from space. However, the time I go by is broadcast to my computer from the internet. We could argue over it all night, but since you are physically assaulting my building, I don't think I'm going to change my mind.

Case in point number 4:
You threaten that if we don't start keeping the XYZ-cheap cider in the cooler, you will just go buy it at the government store a block away, where they sell it for 40 cents cheaper. DON'T LET ME KEEP YOU.

Case in Point number 5:
You have forgotten your ID, but c'mon, I'm like 30*!

I hear this ALL THE TIME. Congratulations on being 30. I beleive you, I really do. however, the rules state that if I ask you for ID I may not serve you until you produce it. 2 peices. If you have made it to 30, what the H are you doing out of the house without ID? What if you get hit by a bus? Don't you want people to be able to identify your body and notify your family? What if you get caught in the middle of a riot?! You know they can hold you indefinitely until you can prove who you are, right? Get out of here. Look both ways when you cross the street.

*The age group most likely to throw a fit about being ID'd are those who turned 19 like six months ago, gawwd!

And now, something hilarious to enrich your day.

The wimpiest dog in the universe.

It's rainy season again here, and last night before I went to bed, I let Luna out to pee. A few minutes later, I let her back in. I go to bed with a book.

When I arise to go to the washroom before falling asleep (30-ish minutes later) I notice a smell.

Surely enough, Luna has done both number 1 and number 2 on the floor. Do you know why?

BECAUSE SHE IS AFRAID OF RAIN. So she simply stood out on the deck for the appropriate amount of time when I let her out before, formulating a plan to do her stuff on the floor when I let her back in, just as punishment for expecting her to actually GET WET. Apparently that's fine when we are playing on the beach, but this falling from the sky business is no good.

AFRAID. OF RAIN.

ridiculous.

Secret

I ordered my wedding dress the other day. You can see it here. (Kyle, don't peek!)

I have been wondering about how to accessorize the dress. I am kind of torn between two looks.

1. Ethereal, princess-of-the-woods

2. Colorful, vibrant, and fun (which, considering the vibe of the food and the invites, etc, may be more fitting with the day)

What do you guys think??

Slapsgiving weekend.

Hello, again!

This past weekend was thanksgiving weekend for those of us here in Canada who celebrate the real thanksgiving ;).

We had dinner here at our place. This was the third or fourth Turkey I have made. It was still partially frozen when I put it in the oven. It turned out delicious and tender, albeit 1 1/2 hours later than I had planned for. I was worried, because I do not have a meat thermometer (you may point accusatory fingers at me as you wish. I could kill somebody). So far, nobody has called to tell me about salmonella poisoning.

Anyway, Sunday involved a lot of boiling and testing and mashing carrots and turnips (which, let's be honest, logic dictates should not be a food, but we mash it with carrots and brown sugar and BUTTER! anyway) and cream-braising brussels sprouts until they are nutty and delicious (deemed worthy for consumption by my sixteen-year-old brother whose last vegetable was LAST slapsgiving dinner, when I last made said brussels sproups) and making pumpkin pie from scratch for the first time. By scratch, I mean that I used canned pumpkin and spiced it myself. I did make my own crust, I'm pretty good with shortcrust pastry.

But, DID YOU KNOW that there is condensed milk in a pumpkin pie filling? Well, there is. And, had you, like me, forgotten that condensed milk is totally, completely, out-of-this-world scrumptious and decadent?? WHO NEEDS THE PIE?

Also, on sunday, I got registered.

(as a sex offender. Ha, ha)

No, but actually, I meant that we registered for wedding gifts. And can I be totally, brutally honest? It was about six million times more fun that I could ever have dreamed of. Even though there are basically only two choices of store to register at. One is The Bay, and the other is Home Outfitters, which is owned by The Bay. It's either that, or ask for cash envelopes. Seriously! You think I am kidding.

We registered for a bunch of stuff, mostly small. But the size doesn't really matter for the most part, because people are going to buy it! for me! and I won't even have to pay! just because they love me, and they love Kyle, and Kyle and Me love each other! Isn't that fabulous?

We did scan just one big-ticket item, though:

Dyson Ball Animal DC-25

At $699, this is likely out of our friends' and families' price ranges. I do not expect to actually get this, unless we have some particularly generous-feeling grandparents or our friends decide to give us a group gift. The Bay does have a neat program in which we can continue to add items to our registry up to our first anniversary, then buy things off it at the best sale price it has had in the past year. Cool, yeah? makes me want to toss all our stuff to the curb, just so I can be all like BUT CHECK OUT THE DEAL I GOT ON THE NEW ONE.

I won't do that, though, because I'm not crazy.

*if you get the slapsgiving reference, you are officially awesome and can we be friends?

Curating

I spent the day reorganizing, rearranging furniture, and otherwise trying to simplify.

I didn't take any before and after shots, making me officially the worst DIY-er ever. But I did snap a couple of curation photos with the iphone.

On giving in.

yle's phone starts beeping in the middle of the night. He wakes up, listens for a minute as his sleepy brain registers the noise, looks at the screen. Junk email. He sighs.

What time is it? I ask.

It's four-forty five, says he.

Guess there's no sleep for me tonight, says I.

In forty-five minutes the alarms will go off, we will press snooze a few times, and then be up for the day.

I need to get some sleep.

The following night, last night, for the first time, I gave in and bought something to help me sleep. After a lifetime of lying in bed staring at the wall, I am caving. I thought maybe this problem could be squashed with chamomile tea and a good routine, but, hello? I am a nurse. There is a very good chance it will be years and years before I have a job which doesn't involve shiftwork. I can't, can't continue like this.

It never, ever takes me less than two hours to fall asleep, and hasn't since I was about five. I remember when my parents would come check on me before they went to bed, they were often shocked to find me awake, quiet, staring at the ceiling. My brother and sister, on the other hand, would give it twenty minutes and then be in the living room with an "I can't sleeeep".

Ha.

On bad days, I sleep two or three hours or not at all. I feel like I can't turn off my brain, even if I am not thinking or deliberating over anything important. It's usually making to-do lists for the following day, thinking about how I wish I had painted the bedroom when I was on that painting spree in the spring, wondering about the logistics of minimizing dust and dog hair in my home. Small, ridiculous things.

So yesterday, I bought my first bottle of melatonin, three milligrams. I will take it regularly, for a while, and later only when I have the signs of a poor night's sleep: a tight jaw, an active mind. It seemed to work last night, though that could have easily just been utter exhaustion. We will see.

I heart Mondays

ig Bang Theory and How I Met Your Mother are on tonight. Just so you know.


*the letter B is brought to you today by Jessica Hische's Daily Drop Cap project!

A lovely place to snuggle up

In the post about setting up the bed, you can see that we've got white sheets on the bed.

I just bought them the day before the bed came, and oooh, how crazy I must be. I am that person who will projectile-spill my coffee, curry, red wine, or tomato sauce past any and all dark-coloured clothing, just so that I can screw up the three square inches of white I am wearing.


I hesitated about buying white sheets. But they were cheap, they had a high thread count, and after all, white is my favourite colour! So I did it.


And I am so, so glad. I feel so clean and cozy crawling into my white-sheeted bed.


I'm now daydreaming about a white duvet. Specifically this one from Designer's Guild.


Just for one second, can we focus on the edge detail on the pillow shams and flat sheet? Come on! That's beautiful!


Thankfully, it's much more money than I am willing to spend on something that would be wrecked immediately*


I am also in love with this:


*even if not by me, directly. Remember the big black dog? The consequences of what would happen to that beautiful bed if I accidentally left the bedroom door open when I went out make me cringe.

Birthday Goals

Today is my Birthday! I have reached the ripe old age of twenty-two. Somebody get me a cane.

In honour of this, I have decided to make some goals for the coming year:

1. Write - for one short period of my life I was a writer. I ate, slept, breathed poetry. I was good at it. I was published, and not by poetry.com. Prose was not my strong point. But last night I woke up in the middle of the night and decided to write a book. That's right, you heard me. I am going to write a book. I may never have it published, may never submit it for publication, may never finish it, even. But I am going to start.

2. Self-Discipline - This is a blanket goal which ultimately includes my incredible aversion to doing anything I 'should' do. Like getting out of bed on time, going to bed on time, eating healthy foods, exercising, paying my bills, doing readings, walking the dog, writing papers. This goal could also be filed under 'laziness and procrastination'.

3. Lose some weight - I've blogged about this before, so I'll be brief. Goal weight is 145 pounds, which means I need to lose about 10% of my body weight. This is ideally a goal for pre-wedding, and also falls under the self-discipline category.

4. Let go of some control - which means not being so picky about things like how clean the house is, and leaving some space for Kyle's tastes when picking out furniture, etc.

5. That said, get rid of some stuff. - I have been posting a lot about curation of items, and I think that ultimately, what I really need is just to de-clutter and simplify. If it's not being used regularly and I don't have an emotional attachment to it, it needs to go. Yeah, this totally flies in the face of goal #4. What, have you never seen a hypocrite before?

6. Quit smoking, for good. - I am so, so very close. I am at the point where physical addiction is just not an excuse anymore, because it's not possible. I can go for days, weeks even, without smoking, and not miss it. Now to kick the social habit of lighting up every once in a while... this is harder than it sounds, apparently, and something I have been battling for a while now.

6. Finish nursing school. Get a job. Get married. Let grown-up life begin. - speaks for itself... this will be a big year!