Saturday, June 30, 2007

Question 5: PB sans J

Really, who requests that someone make up a story about or involving peanut butter? Weirdo. But, I'm a pleaser, so I find myself doing just that.

Story #1
You've heard of the Stinky Cheese Man, right? Well, if you haven't heard of him, I'm sure you've heard of the Gingerbread Man. But have you heard of the Peanut Butter Man?

No. And I'll tell you why.

"Run, run, run as fast as you can! You can't catch me, I'm the Peanut Butter Man!" It doesn't work. Because peanut butter is sticky. The Peanut Butter man cannot run away. He gets stuck.

As a matter of fact, there once was a boy named Peanut Butter. His mother was Peanut and his father was Oil. His older sister was, of course, Peanut Oil. But he was just plain Peanut Butter. Nothing exciting or exotic about him.

One day he wanted to have a fabulous adventure, so he decided to go cliff diving. He got a group of friends together and went up to a really high cliff. They decided they would throw themselves off the edge at the same time. "One, two, three!" they yelled, and dived off the edge of the cliff. All except Peanut Butter. He couldn't get his feet to leave the ground! When his friends saw that he hadn't made the jump, they all laughed and called him a chicken. (Which doesn't make any sense; he is peanut butter, goofballs.)

Ashamed and unable to live down his embarrassment, Peanut Butter decided to run away. He packed a little bag and set out late one night. He walked for miles and miles. When the sun rose, he found a shady knoll and laid down to rest, his pack under his head. At moonrise, he awoke, hungry and sticky from his travels, picked up his pack and journeyed on.

Before long, Peanut Butter was in an unfamiliar land, made more curious by the tricky light of the moon. As he walked the narrow path, he heard a sound off to his left. He ducked behind a bush until he saw a couple of boys, arguing.

"What do you mean, you forgot it?" the first one asked.

"I don't know, I just did!" the second retorted.

"What are we supposed to do now?"

"Well, make due with what we have, I guess. Might be kind of strange, but it's better than nothing."

"I guess. I wish we had peanut butter!"

Peanut Butter was shocked by the boy's exclamation. "Why do they want me?" he thought to himself.

"Well, peanut butter would really save the day." Peanut Butter gasped as he heard the reply of the second boy.

The boys looked at each other. "What was that? Did you hear that?"

Knowing he had blown his cover, Peanut Butter stepped out from behind the bush. "Maybe I can help these boys," he thought. "Maybe they will be my friends."

As he stepped into the light created by the boys' campfire, Peanut Butter noticed their small tent and a messy pile that contained fishing poles and tackle boxes. Hanging from some low branches he saw two sets of clothing dripping dry. Taking all of this in, he missed the look of astonishment followed by delight that crossed the faces of the boys. He missed the way they glanced at each other, raised their eyebrows, and smiled a smug smile.

He turned towards them. "Um, hello. I couldn't help but overhear that you wished I, that is to say, Peanut Butter, was here."

"Is that your name? Are you Peanut Butter?" the first boy asked.

Peanut Butter grinned and blushed. "That's me. I mean, I'm him."

"Excellent!" "Cool!" "This is perfect timing!"

Calming, the second boy invited Peanut Butter to sit on a large wool blanket. Peanut Butter was just getting comfortable as he saw the second boy pull two objects out of the box near a makeshift table. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Peanut Butter saw something silver glint in the firelight.

He turned to face the first boy. Immediately he noticed the knife in his hand. Deciding that this was not at all safe, Peanut Butter decided to make a run for it. He attempted to jump to his feet, but he couldn't! He was stuck on the wool blanket!

The second boy laid the bread and jelly on the table. "You ready?" he asked the first boy.

"You bet! I want me some PBJ!" replied the first, and together they tackled Peanut Butter.

So, the moral of the story is this: Peanut Butter and wool: don't mix 'em! You will probably find yourself in a sticky situation!

Okay, people, I know it was lame. That's why I wrote story #2.

Prudence sighed. She had a gut feeling about the picnic later today. Deep down she knew Tam was going to try... something. He was going to do... something. He was going to say... something. She didn't know what, but she knew it was coming. With a sinking feeling, she remembered that it was the anniversary of their first date, a month ago.

He kept hinting to her about how special he wanted the picnic to be. She knew he was a romantic and that he would be the kind of guy who would remember, and celebrate, things like anniversaries. She thought back to their conversation a few days back "well, if you bring the food, I'll bring the ambiance," he had said.

Seriously, he had said ambiance. What kind of guy talks about ambiance when planning a picnic? Well, the kind of guy that plans it on the beach at sunset. The kind of guy who talked about her perfections for minutes on end. The kind of guy who admitted that he had "trialed" his plan for their first date by doing all of the activities with a friend, just to make sure that nothing would go wrong... that everything would be perfect.

Sure, she like him. It was very pleasant know that her happiness was the focus of his time and energy. It was a wonderful compliment to see the great lengths he would go to in effort to ensure her pleasure. She knew he liked her a lot.

But still, she was undecided. It seemed like a little too much, too soon. Sometimes it was just over the top. And sometimes, she just felt smothered. She wasn't sure if she would continue to date him, but if he pushed her at all tonight, she was sure it she would end it. She just needed more time to decide how she felt.

One month, she though. We've been dating for one month. And he hasn't even kissed me.

With a blush, she realized what the night was going to hold. And with a grin, she knew what she was going to do. She walked into her kitchen to make their picnic dinner.

When she met him on the beach later that night, she wasn't surprised to see the blanket and the candles. The soft music seemed only natural. The hint of lilies in the air made sense when he presented her with a lovely bouquet. He took the basket from her and set it on the blanket. Before she could sit down, he whisked her into his arms, twirling her and dipping her back in time to the music. His skin was golden in the glowing sunset, and his arms felt strong and secure around her. For a minute, she felt it. For a moment, she was swept away.

And then the wind whipped her hair into her face, and she tasted the salty ocean spray on her lips. The moment was gone, and she remembered. It had been too perfect. He was trying too hard.

He moved to pull her into his arms again, but she quickly settled onto the blanket. "Let's eat," she said. "I'm so hungry!"

He complied and sat down next to her. "Prudence," he began, his tone soft and sweet.

"I made everything special for tonight," she interrupted. "I hope you eat it all."

"Anything you made will be wonderful, I'm sure!" She smiled and began unloading the basket. "Everything looks delicious!" She smiled demurely.

"Prudence," he began again, "I've really enjoyed the time we have spent together."

"Here, try this!" she said, sticking a home-made taffy into his mouth.

"Mmm." He chewed... and chewed... and chewed. Finally he cleared his throat and started again. "I think you are really wonderful."

"Try my grammy's popcorn balls! She made them just for us!" she said, handing him the treat.

"Oh, I'm sure this will be great... after dinner." She flashed him a disappointed look, and guiltily he took a big bite.

"And I made one of my all-time favorites for the main course!" she said, smiling.

He licked his lips. "What I really want to say is that I think there is something very special between us." He lifted his hand to brush the hair from her face. As he leaned towards her, she knew she was running out of time.

"Please try this, it's been my favorite since I was a child!" she insisted.

With a mild look of annoyance, he took a bite of the sandwich. As he chewed, she could see that he had finally given up his plan. Between the taffy, the popcorn ball, and the peanut butter and raisin sandwich, there was no way he was going to try to kiss her tonight. It just wouldn't be right, not with everything he had stuck in his teeth! Her dinner was one thing she was sure he hadn't considered when he planned out this perfectly romantic night.

She smiled, and took a big bit of her sandwich. Saved for one more night.

Alright, maybe that was lame, too. But I tried. I'd like to see you do better... with peanut butter as your subject. Seriously. I'd really like to see you do better. Write a peanut butter story on your blog, and leave a link in the comments! I promise I'll read it!


Can I say something?

I got a really nice compliment yesterday. Someone said they think I am a very good writer:)

That makes me happy.

Happy, happy, happy!

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Tuesday, June 26, 2007


Here is my blanket disclaimer:

When I write about work or patient situations, under no circumstances will I violate HIPAA. I will change names, ages, and circumstances to ensure that the privacy of those I serve as a nurse is protected.

So don't ask about them, okay?

Question 4: Relationship

My motto? Give the people what they want! So here it is:

If there was one thing I knew from my first day of nursing school clinical it was this: I would never date a doctor.

One night in November, I was working in a little unit on the first floor. I was working a 3p-3a shift, and my shift was going pretty well. I only had 3 patients, 2 of whom were not only kind but also easy in terms of nursing care. One of them was not... not so kind, and not so easy in terms of nursing care. I will call him "Mr. Heffalump."

Mr. H. was a middle-aged gentleman with a whole host of health problems. One of his most significant problems was that he was non-compliant with his treatment. If told that he could never eat eggs if he wanted to recover, the first thing he would do as soon as you left the room was eat an egg. Mr. H. also had a host of psychological disorders including bipolar disorder, which left him with severe depression as a side effect of treatment. So severe that it frightened me to awake the man from a deep sleep because I thought he might wake up sleeping. And sleeping was another of his issues; he couldn't sleep, but when he did, he was OUT!

Throughout the night, Mr. H. made a series of odd requests, some of which I simply could not fulfill. He became agitated, and simply demanded more. Finally he demanded something just absurd. Mr. H. wanted to take mineral supplements as frequently and in whatever dose he desired! This is not only unheard of, but unsafe, especially in light of his delicate health (the only part of him that was delicate... did I mention the man towered over my head and weighed at least double what I do?)

So, since I was clearly not getting any closer to getting him what he wanted or at least getting him to calm down, I did what most nurses would do... I called in the big guns... I called in the DOCTOR.

After explaining the situation, the doctor agreed to see the patient, and I simply attempted to stay out of Mr. H.'s way. I was at a computer typing when someone sat down next to me. He was involved in a conversation with someone else, and I soon began interjecting comments. The other person left, and I was alone with the unknown man. At that point, all the frustrations of the night (which were many and varied but related primarily to Mr. H.) seemed to erupt into one feeling, and I blurted out "What the heck is wrong with doctors!?!"

The man sitting next to me laughed, and we started a great conversation. Later, he revealed that it was that first comment (combined with my fiery red hair and my all-around feisty personality) that confirmed in that moment that he could really like me... despite my doctor despair.

And that is how I met Doctor John.

See my disclaimer.

Monday, June 25, 2007

Social Situation Review

So, the other night, Doctor John and I were at a party. Somehow, we ended up sitting around with group of guys and another girl and talking. Quite unexpectedly and unexplainedly, the guys (and by guys, I mean dudes who are all doctors and are at least 30 years old, minus John, but he's almost 30, so we will just say 30)arranged themselves in a semi-circle facing me. Someone decided that it would be a good idea to try to throw a peanut into my cup of soda. I insisted this was not a good idea and repeatedly squealed "stop it!" This resulted in significantly more peanuts being thrown at me... supposedly they were aiming at my cup, but either they have really bad aim, or the cup was not their target. This went on for quite some time, despite my protestations and my obvious discomfort and embarrassment. Also, despite the peanuts making a mess and hitting me in the face. I did eventually put my cup down (duh!) and still got pelted with the peanuts. They got mad when I blocked the peanuts with my hand. (FYI- John was equally guilty!)

During a little time that Doctor John likes to call "Social Situation Review" we discovered our opposing views of what was really occurring in this awkward social situation. I feel as though the guys involved in the pelting were doing so because they are big dorks and wanted to annoy me. The fact that it worked and that I got upset served to encourage them to continue the pelting. In shocking opposition, Doctor John feels that the guys involved in pelting me with peanuts (seriously, people, peanuts?) were in fact FLIRTING with me. Yes, I said flirting. Like how little boys on the playground pull the hair of the girl that they like. (Doctor John here. In support of my position,I offer this evidence: 1. Why else would they have moved to a higher elevation than her (it was totally for the arch on the throw, nothing to do with the boobs.)2.Peanut is very similar to another word men like to get into women's cups. 3.It wasn't pelting, it was adjusted aim. Let's just say when she jumped no one was looking at the cup.)

Yes, enough from Doctor John. Ahem. It's not like they aren't all doctors. Who have seen EVERYTHING! But I digress.

Now, perhaps these men do continue to socially exist in a pre-middle-school mindset, especially when it comes to interacting with the opposite sex. This is, after all, central Pennsylvania (but John is the only native of the area. I might point out that he found the pelting to be even funnier than any of the other guys found it to be.) So, I appeal to you... the masses. What do you think was going on? (I think you will be able to tell who wrote the options below... Cuz I certainly didn't write one of them!)


"...he still thought it self-evident that one had to do what was right; he had never learned how people could want to do otherwise; he had learned only that they did. It still seemed simple and incomprehensible to him: simple that things should be right, and incomprehensible that they weren't. He knew that they weren't."

Atlas Shrugged

Ayn Rand

Question 3: Dessert

I didn't forget! So, by request, the dessert story...

Once upon a time there were two very silly and foolish girls who thought they knew much more than they truly did. They were trying to figure out what it mean to be a woman and to be a sexual creature, but what they hadn't discovered yet was that the fullness of womanhood and sexuality was meant to be a reflection of their Creator. So they stumbled around, trying to find what it meant, reflecting only their own selfish desires.

One night, these girls decided that they would take "dessert" to two boys. They picked up some cookies* from the grocery and set out on a path that surly would lead them nowhere worth going... It soon became clear that the path had certainly NOT lead them to the boys. And there they were, two vulnerable girls, far down the path of darkness, with only a small key chain flashlight (literally!) to help them find their way back.

They were scared, one of them more so than the other (she had always harbored a secret fear of the dark after watching Silence of the Lambs.) They huddled together, fighting over the small light, being silly and obnoxious to try to hide their fears. Eventually they made it back to the light, but the trip back to Light felt much longer than the trip into the Darkness.

Then they ate a few cookies and put the rest as decorations on the car of one of the boys.

The End.

*In case you are interested, these girls were all about quality, and choose only the finest chocolate chip cookies to take down the path that into Darkness. Sometimes, one of those girls wishes those cookies were available in PA.


So, I have been asked to do something that just makes me feel... odd. And nervous. And a little... trapped, maybe? And I have been asked to do it alone... without a friend next to me, without someone there for support.

It's nothing that is obviously bad or dangerous or wrong or any of those things that would automatically cause me to object to engaging in this activity. Nonetheless, it makes me feel very cautious. It makes me feel like I will have to be very guarded and protective of myself. I fear that I may be attacked (emotionally, not physically) but the truth is, I really don't know what will occur. It could turn out to be very nice and enjoyable... I JUST DON'T KNOW!

I finally came to the decision that I will, indeed, do what has been asked of me. Probably, in the long run, 5 or 10 or 20 years from now it won't even be a blip on my life's radar. But right now, nerves and anticipation are filling my vision of tomorrow's horizon. The one thing I insist upon is that it occur soon... I refuse to wait in dread for days and weeks and months until it happens. So, hopefully, within the next few days you will find out how it went.

(Wow, re-reading this, it all sounds very cryptic, doesn't it? Well, when I turn out to be the next Sydney Bristow, you can't say you didn't see it coming!)


So, yesterday I was sick. I kept waking up sweating then falling back asleep and waking up cold and shivering. And no matter how hard I tried, I could NOT stay awake for more than 5 minutes at a time. This went on for hours. It was not pleasant, and it totally messed up my sleep schedule.

Anyway, at least I got the necessary homework done.

Oh, I feel great today.

Just thought you might like to know.

Saturday, June 23, 2007

My Quotable Life

So, I realize I have not been updating very much recently, and I'm sorry to those of you who depend on this little blog to keep you up-to-date on my life.

But the truth is, between orienting at work, school, clinical, crazy over-time work schedules, and missing Abigail, I really haven't had much of a life lately. And when I do have an our or two to do something, I have usually spent it reading.

So, since I don't really have anything to tell you about my so-called life, I will leave you with a few quotes from the book I am currently reading (Only 130 pages left, which is not bad, considering the book is 1069 pages... fine print at that!)

"Degrees do not matter, he thought; one does not bargain about inches of evil."

Here's one that made me think of Josh:

"... if devotion to truth is the hallmark of morality, then there is no greater, nobler, more heroic form of devotion than the act of a man who assumes the responsibility of thinking."

And one for Justin:

"Emotions are inherent in your nature, but their content is dictated by your mind."

And one for Doctor John:

"To arrive at a contradiction is to confess an error in one's thinking; to maintain a contradiction is to abdicate one's mind and to evict oneself from the realm of reality."

And here is one that made me think about the change from high-school Moriah to the current Moriah:

"The moral is the chosen, not the forced; the understood, not the obeyed."

Kind of makes you want to read the book, no? It is an amazing commentary on life, values, morals, and corruption.... and definitely a commentary on socialism, communism, industrialism, and capitalism. And while much of it is in contradiction to personal beliefs, the author says quite a few interesting and though-provoking things.

Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand.

Thursday, June 21, 2007


They just opened up 2 full day shift jobs on my unit. I applied for both, but since I am bottom of the totem pole of seniority, I really need a miracle to get one.

But, I know a miracle worker...:)

Wednesday, June 13, 2007

Entertainment on a budget.

Lily really likes to chase bugs.

The bigger, the better.

She just chased down and pounced on and killed a big black moth. Now she is crying because she killed her toy.

I find this amusing.

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

BLT Twist

So, you know it's summer when your kitchen counters are full of ripe tomatoes, and you are trying to find a way to use them up before they go bad. Of course, some people (*cough* Moriah/Abigail *cough*) are odd and don't like tomatoes, but such is life. For the rest of you, if you are anything like me, you like the first (or the first 5, but who's counting?) BLT of the season. But after a few days, you really need a different way to eat your maters and bacon. So... I tried this today:

Twisted BLT
Pan fry 1 lb. bacon to crisp (I use turkey bacon- so much healthier!) and cut into 1/2 inch pieces
Tear 1 head of green, leafy lettuce into bite-size pieces
Cut 2 large tomatoes into 1/2 inch cubes

Toss above ingredients in bowl. Pour ranch dressing over top and toss.

Cover 1/3 to 1/2 of a Flat-Out (I use the multi-grain for the higher fiber content) or other wrap with BLT mix. Roll up and serve.

Makes 4-6 wraps.

You can also add 1/2 inch cubes of grilled/broiled chicken breast- probably about 2 chicken breasts for 4-6 wraps to make a Chicken BLT (For crunch, you can cut the raw chicken and toss in Shake-and-Bake for before baking or use cut up chicken nuggets.) Or try adding some cheddar or Parmesan cheese.

Greek Twist
Lettuce and tomatoes as above
2 chicken breasts, grilled/broiled and cut into 1/2 inch cubes
About 2 oz. Feta cheese, crumbled (to be honest, I probably use more for a serving this size.)
Sliced onion,green pepper, or black olives if desired

Toss together above ingredients. Pour on favorite Greek dressing (I like this Lite Greek dressing) and toss to coat.

Fill wrap as above.

This is a great way to use up those tomatoes as well as leftover cookout chicken. Very lunch menu at a major restaurant chain, but healthier since you can control what goes into it. Serve with some fresh fruit salad on the side...MMM!

What's your favorite way to enjoy the bounty of summer tomatoes?

I love my daytime hours!

So, the decision for me to go to full day shift pretty much rests in the hands of one person.

But really, I know that the decision is ultimately God's.

So, please pray for favor with this person and for God to have his way.

I should hopefully hear something in the next day or so.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

I stink. Literally.

So, want to smell something stinky?

Yeah, me neither.

But since I just wore my sneakers for 22 hours straight with most of those hours spent either running around being a nurse or running around shopping, when I took my shoes off, I had a nice "treat."

Doesn't seem to bother Lily, though:)


So, currently I am on a Days/Nights rotation... 4 weeks on day shift followed by 4 weeks on night shift.

The possibility of going to full time day shift has come up... much sooner than I thought it would. It is only a possibility at this point- still testing the waters. But start praying. It would mean so much to me. I truly believe I am a better nurse on days than on nights- I'm nicer and more attentive

Plus, I would save a TON of money.

So, you know what to do!

Why I became a mother...

...because saying "do you see the point I am trying to make?" to a 4 year old makes more sense than saying it to a cat.

In other words, it is easier to be "The Crazy Momma" than "The Crazy Cat-Lady."

Friday, June 01, 2007

Harry Potter DOOM!

Well, doom for me. Just watched the trailer for OOP, and ....



(it pains me to even write it...)

I think I am working on July 13!!!!!!

My anxiety and sadness is inexpressible. This will be the first HP that I will be able to see in the theater, and I planned on seeing it opening night.

If it cannot be, then I will be terribly sad.

Also, what do you think of their depiction of Voldemort? I always imagined him much... creepier. And less formed. And... well, not exactly smaller, but less substantial. Even the trailer seem so much more twisted that HP fare to date... I can't wait! AND THE BOOK!!!!!!! At least already pre-ordered mine!


Just read that they moved the US release date up 2 days to 7/11/07. There is hope that I might not have to work then! YEA!
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