Bigger or Better: Life outside of Texas

Prior to getting married and starting school, I would take vacations simply to travel. I now realize that's not normal. It's like the little old lady who swallowed a fly--we don't know why she swallowed that fly. Maybe because she was bored, and she could. I still have a little travel bug in me, but now it's a bit more escapist. Laundry to do and thank-you cards to write and a car to fix and school books to buy? Let's put that on hold and drive to Austin. This is not Austin. It's Buccees--a mega-gas-station rest stop. This was our first non-honeymoon vacation as a couple. Mark did the planning, and I provided the location and motivation. Good teamwork. Lady Bird Lake Trail! It was so much fun to introduce Mark to the Hill Country of Texas (as well as Buccee's. That was entertaining too.) Most of the time we were indoors [because it's August in Texas...] but as we drove around we got to appreciate the skyline of hills. Purple martins. They ...

My shift started with a warning from the night shift nurse: "The patient told me he was horny, so I'm interested to know how your day goes." Oh, boy. I went into his room, and he said I looked good. My response was "Well, I got dressed." [which was the WRONG thing to say; I meant it as 'didn't comb my hair, but I'm here and appropriately wearing scrubs', but he didn't take it that way.] He exclaimed "Damnit" then followed it up with calling me a tall glass of water. Such remarks can be flattering, and afterwards they're pretty funny, but in the midst of it, it's awkward. How do you play it off so that the comments stop, but still get them to agree to finger pokes for blood sugar checks? Even though he didn't make any other inappropriate remarks, for the rest of the day, I tried to put off every entry in his room--which was difficult, because I was supposed to do flap checks (a pulse check on a surgery site) every...

I just had an eureka moment. And just like Archimedes, I want to share it. Without the whole complete exposure thing. RomCom, or rather, some romance and some comedy/humor, [and I'm not referring to the movie genre] are integral to surviving relationships. Probably rather key in starting relationships, too. I base this on my relationship with Mark, and since everyone can't have a relationship with Mark [hands off, ladies], I'll give some examples. For starters, Mark and I met on a dating website. They are not romantic, but they are pretty funny. [ Like the old guy who mass e-mailed females asking for something more than platonic love. I didn't respond to that one .] Under the username soccerfan or something like that, Mark messaged me--woolbluegirl--friendly non-aggressive chatter. And so we communicated, until he found out that he was also simultaneously messaging my sister. He handled it well by offering to go on dates with both of us, and decide between us at a l...

I know I'm not a good liar. Fortunately, I'm not in a career where that comes up [and in case you're wondering how that can be when I work in a cancer hospital, the answer is I either tell the truth or tell the patient to ask their doctors]  and hopefully the people who want to be flattered don't talk to me. Actually, I usually hope that I'm not called upon to say anything. Turns out that's not enough. I am finally beginning to understand that I have an expressive face. It helps that various someones have told me that 5 or 6 times. [sometimes I can be dense. Or just inattentive.] I'm pretty sure some friends mentioned it to me in college. I know some of my co-workers have told me...usually they burst out laughing and say "your face!" and I'm assuming that they aren't talking about its general appearance. Plus there is this janitor who calls me the lady of a thousand faces; I think he often catches me when I'm frustrated with somet...

When confronted with a decision between a pet dog and a pet cat, a comfortably-sedated girl chose the cat, no question. Forget the dog. My then-fiancé and I vaguely considered the same decision as we were evaluating what changes marriage would bring, and if apartment restrictions would make us choose. How can one choose a favorite child-from-two-separate-species-not-related-to-you? We decided we'd decide later. "Later" came without my permission and without our consent when I got word that my dog had run away from the pet sitter while I was out of town. She is an odd-looking dog (hairless except for a Mohawk), so I'm not sure anyone would take her in, but she was super smart and loyal and quiet and didn't lick people and she loved me. My cat does not have those qualities. She sheds a bunch even when I comb the loose hairs out; I find cat hair clinging electrostatically to edges of tea cups and on floor mats. Yes, she's around my leg. Sometime...

To my future self: 1. You can survive detours from the planned path. Mark and I were supposed to meet my parents for lunch, but before we left we followed up on the low tire pressure signal light on my car...and found that both the back left and the spare tires were at 12psi--less than half of what they should be. Once we fixed that, we got on the tollway to get quickly up to the NW exit to Cypress. And found out on the exit ramp that the NW exit was completely closed, and that we were forced into the NE exit. Not where we wanted to go at all. Yay for Texas feeder road U-turns. 2. Some pictures are better than none. Not sure why I took this pic. But it's from the last reception! Mark. And part of Mark's parents 3. it's fine to go to someone's wedding reception even if you don't know them that well [but you should be invited. don't overlook that part]. The best time to get free food is when the hosting people are so happy that they want everyone...

The older I get, the more I realize that counting on an ideal situation is ludicrous. There are just too many factors going in--other people, the weather, etc.--and though you can remind some of them, you cannot control any of them. And don't forget that you are imperfect, too. The good news is that this makes the end result pretty hilarious. good-lookin', right? For weeks before my wedding, my mother had been worried about what to do with my hair. I long ago realized that I can't "make" it do anything, but we agreed I'd wear it in curling rags the night before. It turned out lovely, I successfully did my own makeup, and we were out the door and driving to the Salt Lake Temple for the wedding ceremony pretty much on time. And then I realized I forgot my dress. One would think, since I forgot my dress before my bridal shoot and had to drive back (a whole 12 minutes) to get it, that I would not repeat the mistake. Nope. And this time, th...