have been a bad girl. This semester for me was seriously backloaded in terms of due dates, and therefore, in the next twenty-two days, I have the following to do:
8-10 page paper on hospice care
In-class presentation about hospice care, followed by a 4-page reflection about said presentation
In-class presentation about the need to bring back professional nursing associations in Canada
Reflective practice Narrative re: something, anything I have done in Practicum
Short in-class presentation related to my practicum
10-page critique of 2 research articles
Final practicum self-evaluation
Prepare a teaching plan and teach 6 classes of high school kids about healthy relationships, birth control, nutrition, and Diabetes (not all on the same day).
Um, yikes. Where was my foresight? Wish me luck! It may be a while until you see me here again - 22 days, perhaps. Good thing I didn't commit to NaBloPoMo.
ately, I have been checking out hairstyles for The Big Day. I am definitely being drawn to pretty, wispy, 'this happened by accident and look how adorable it is' type styles.
I showed both of these to my friend and hairdresser the other night and she absolutely refused to do the second one, claiming that it 'isn't me' and would fall out in about a minute.
Dammit, woman, can't you just tell me what I want to hear? that it's perfect?
She says she has an idea for me involving 1940's pinup glamour. Which is lovely and awesome, but not exactly the whimsical wispiness I was leaning towards.
Today, I am playing with the tiltshift generator app for iphone, and realizing that good curation of items is only one-half about the items, and one-half about artfully neglecting to photograph clutter.
y first pair of slippers was given to me for my eighteenth birthday. They were pink. fuzzy inside, fuzzy outside, boot-shaped, and given to me by a friend. I feigned excitement, then put them in the corner, not really intending to wear them.
But later, my feet got chilly, as they always do (Kyle often makes me wear socks to bed because they are so cold, even though there is no feeling more bizarre and uncomfortable to me than wearing socks to bed). And I put on my new, pink, fuzzy inside and outside boot-slippers. And I have never looked back.
Since then, I have purchased and worn out at least one pair of slippers (always boot-like in nature, never slip-on) each winter. I wear them inside. I wear them in the car sometimes. I bring them to other peoples' houses so that my feet can be warm and adorable anywhere I go. I have once or twice forgotten to change from slippers to shoes and worn them in the grocery store. It was an accident, I SWEAR. I am not one of those shops-in-her-pajamas types of people.
As the weather has gotten cooler, I knew it was time to find my next pair of slippers. So, on a whim, I stopped at Old Navy on my way home the other day, and there I found a glorious array of exactly the boot-shaped booties I love. With stripes, and pom-poms. Oh, my.
And here they are. So pretty, so cozy. If with this post I can convert one, EVEN ONE non-slipper-wearing person into a beleiver, I consider my job done. Just try it! You'll like it.
*PS, in case you missed it: The letter M (and all the scripty lovelies at the beginning of my posts) is brought to you by Jessica Hische and her Daily Drop Cap Project.
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.
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.
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.
have been a bad girl. This semester for me was seriously backloaded in terms of due dates, and therefore, in the next twenty-two days, I have the following to do:
ately, I have been checking out hairstyles for The Big Day. I am definitely being drawn to pretty, wispy, 'this happened by accident and look how adorable it is' type styles.
y first pair of slippers was given to me for my eighteenth birthday. They were pink. fuzzy inside, fuzzy outside, boot-shaped, and given to me by a friend. I feigned excitement, then put them in the corner, not really intending to wear them.
olks, I have something to admit. I am so, so, SO bored.
