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vikingkitten
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Name: Naomi
Interests: God; People; Medical Shtuff; Horses; Firearms; Music; Freedom...
Expertise: Getting [un]lost
Occupation: God chaser and big sister
Industry: Life
Message: message meEmail: email me
Member Since:
5/26/2004
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| I miss my blog, so I'm writing here.
I've tried switching over to blogger, or blogspot, or whatever you call it. I write over there sometimes; for a while, I linked that blog to Facebook. It didn't feel right, so I stopped that  Actually, I'm kinda mad at Facebook. Before Facebook, a BUNCH of people actually WROTE about what was going on in their lives, rather than periodically updating their status and playing quizzes that send annoying invites and notifications and whatnot. *sigh* I originally joined because it was a handy way of photo sharing. Now it's one of the mainstays of keeping in touch with people. Bleh 
[ok, I will take this moment to admit, rather pathetically, that this emoticon: is one of my favorite parts of Xanga. That face is just SO appropriate. It pops into my head as the expression I wish I could replicate in emails and IM conversations quite frequently. Well, ok, not quite frequently, but on a quasi regular basis]
So this is me, writing an actual update about my actual life. Once again, I am at a sort of crossroads. Once again, I am out of a college program geared to graduation. Honestly....I know there are reasons for my academic progress (or lack thereof) but at times, I feel like the world's biggest loser. And I don't mean in the hefty TV show sort of way. I still want to get my nursing degree. If I'm totally honest, I want to go way beyond a nursing degree, but let's take baby steps, shall we? Graduating with SOMETHING would be a good place to start after nearly 7 years of "higher education."
Anyway.
Life is amazing. I'm [sort of] training for three day eventing with a friend who lets me ride for free because I'm doing her a favor by working her gelding so she can work with a couple of other horses EMS stuff is going great; I've been told that people of higher powers than myself would like to see me progress to the ALS level. Me being me, the confidence of people who know more than I do is quite a boost. School is going well - even though I'm not on track to graduate at this point, my classes are mostly interesting and I'm learning lots while getting decent grades. I consider this some degree of success. And on top of that, work is great! The crazies are crazy, to be sure, but the nurses I work with are super supportive and interested in teaching me what they can 
To top it all off, I think I'll just throw it all to heck and move to California, just to see what happens.
yeah, I really have no idea where the idea came from. I mean, I've been playing with the idea of leaving NoVA for yeeeeeears. Anyone who knows me will be well aware of that. It's just that with the end of my enrollment in the nursing program I lost the one "practical" holding me down and it became more of a probability than a pipe dream. I have quite a few friends in Cali, and I fell in love with the ocean while I was out there over spring break.... Besides that, the Norwegian wanderlust in me has always wanted to just pick up everything, move to another part of the country and plunk it down so I can find out if I fall on my face or not. Chances are good that I will in at least some degree, but hey . . . who doesn't, right?
Honestly, I need a rest. My life here in NoVA is amazing, but I am CONSTANTLY running. So much so, that I end up paralyzed and unable to move half the time. There's a mindset of "if you're not being productive EVERYSINGLESECOND, then you're not productive at all" and I've bought into it, much to my chagrin. Moving to Cali would force me to take some degree of a rest. I wouldn't be able to afford school until I could take advantage of residential rates ($13 a credit!??! yeah, ok, that's a big draw) Plus we're living an epic adventure, right? What better way to express it than to take a grand journey across the country?
*sigh*
Basically, there are a lot of things that I can see as plusses to either side of the country. Maybe I should just pack it up and go back to Minnesota? Right in the middle, that's a happy compromise - and besides that, my family's there . . . . . . .
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| Twelve, plus thirty-six, plus twenty-four...Seventy-two hours.
That's the total number of hours I'm supposed to work in a two week pay period.
It's also the number of hours I'll have spent running rescue by the time this week is over.
Right now I'm sitting at work and there is one thought taking up the majority of my mind: I. Am. TIRED.
And I don't think caffeine is going to cut it tonight. This makes me slightly apprehensive. Nine hours of a twelve hour shift to go, and I'm already wondering when I can take my break and nap for a bit, while questioning the wisdom of that move because it will mean that I have to wake myself up after a painfully short time of having my eyes closed.
I got my Christmas car accident, though. Somehow I knew that there was gonna be a massive wreck today. There was, but fortunately the injuries sustained by the vehicles were far more significant than those experienced by the people involved. That happened around 1500, just when I was thinking of falling asleep for a couple of hours so I'd be able to stay awake at work. Twelve hours earlier, at 0300, we ran a pediatric* seizure/trouble breathing/cardiac something or other primarily BLS call. I was able to get a few hours of sleep after we got back, but that was all I really got over the course of my 36 hour wonder shift.
All of my sleeplessness is beginning to make me wonder whether or not I can actually carry on a normal conversation or even thought process anymore. I think about not having sleep, or my thoughts are so scattered and ADD-esque due to lack of sleep. When I talk to friends, the honest response to their "how are you" questions is predominantly "tired"
Bad Nomi. Nomi needs to use her bed and pillow more often.
I'm having a New Year's Eve party next week. You should come if you're in town. It'll be fun
*as an aside, of the 7 calls I've run since getting released, 4 of my patients were pediatric. Two of the remaining calls ended in waivers signed, giving me one typical adult. My normally white fluffy cloud that bestows boring shifts upon all who run with me is tainted with the hue of kidlets. How this happened, I have no idea; but it's slightly disturbing. One of the medics told my cohorts to kick me off their crew so as to avoid calls involving 6 day old patients
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| keep on breathing
keep on bleeding
though no one sees the wound
looks like a scar
but do you care
to know real life this soon
yes, keep on breathing
please stop bleeding
pain like this can't last
time will heal it
truth reveals it
shadows overcast
if i could just stop bleeding
must i stop breathing?
no, He did that once
He kept on bleeding
then stopped breathing
and kicked death's sorry...*cough*
if You kept on bleeding
so i can keep breathing
why does it hurt so bad?
i feel i don't know You
Your truths are just virtues
like life is a joke - time to laugh
but i'll keep on breathing
eventually stop bleeding
and You'll hold me close
safe
not alone | | |
| Weeding Through Weddings: why i advocate elopementObligatory Disclaimer: This is not meant to offend any of my amazing married friends who are now or about to get married, complete with white dress, cake and photographer. It's just a little bit of me being me in written form.
Weddings are little more than exercises in social obligation, and for that reason, they drive me absolutely nuts. I have seen more than one person get a massive migraine due to wedding planning and all of the convoluted reasoning that it throws into play. While marriage itself is great and wonderful and an amazing picture of God's relationship to the church, weddings have become little more than expensive excuses for an overdose of ibuprofen.
It starts off innocuously enough. There's the engagement. Shparkly shparkle bling, and the question on everyone's lips is "have you set a date?!" Thus begins the beginning of societal acceptance [and an ever increasing price tag]. The date needs to be a weekend. It can't be too soon, that would be unseemly (nevermind entirely impossible, due to overbooked venues) and it can't be too terribly far into the future, because, let's face it, the newlyweds-to-be will go stark raving mad.
So, they pick a date. Sort of. In all reality, they can't pick a date without picking a place. So they basically pick a couple of dates and hope that somewhere, somehow, a nice events coordinator says "oh yes, we can accommodate you for a mere 3000 dollars and your firstborn emu - unless you want us to clean up afterward. Then you owe us the entire emu herd."
Once the date is set and the location is pinned down, detail work commences. Bridal party. Food. Flowers. Cake. Dress. Invitations*. Favors....
All of that shouldn't be too difficult, right? I mean, it's basically just stuff. People orchestrate stuff all the time.
heh.
WRONG.
Every single aspect of a wedding is subject to the scrutiny, approval and advisement of practically every person you've known since you occupied your mother's womb. From dress styles to cake toppers, opinions are varied and definitely voiced. While this may not present a problem at first, in practice, it throws a wife-to-be into tremendous emotional tumult. How does she tell great aunt Bertha that the faded neon rose-encrusted bell cake topper really isn't all too beautiful? Or that the amazing peacock colored satin that looks GREAT on Bridesmaid #2 makes Bridesmaid #3 look like she has the plague?
Ok, so those are exaggerated examples, but there are serious emotionally traumatic experiences hidden in wedding planning. Some of them are contrived, but more often than not, the effort thrown into everything is based on trying to keep everyone else happy. Rather than attempt the impossible, I say forget it. If some guy ever decides that he wants to marry me, fine. A short trip to the courthouse, and everything's in order. You'll get an evite to my after-party when I get back from the honeymoon.
*Invitations are worthy of their own book. Seriously. They are the most annoying aspect of a wedding that I have seen thus far. First you have to comprise a guest list. Try doing that without fits of guilt, confusion and irritation. Then you have to pick a style, pay ridiculous prices for stationery, that, let's face it, is going to end up in a recycling bin or trash can eventually and THEN pay the postal service's through-the-roof prices for postage. Not only are you paying to SEND the invite, which is the wrong size and weight to qualify for cheap stamps, you pay to slap a stamp on the RSVP card. The RSVP card that half of your guests will misplace. The RSVP card that the other half of your guests will forego because they consider the squealing "ohmigosh you're getting MARRIED!!!!!!" phone call reply enough to indicate their presence at your upcoming nuptials.
[this rant focused mainly on the expense on the part of those getting married. I do not venture to explore the expenses incurred by those associated with weddings. Let's just say that gifts are expensive, parties are confusing for many of the same reasons weddings are confusing, but only because they're parties associated with the wedding . . . .and, well, I'm just not very big on obligatory social interaction.  ]
END NOTE: Like I said at the start, I love all of my friends who are married, and I don't want to offend any of them. This isn't directed at any person, it's my frustration with the way things are in general. Save yourself a headache - and a bunch of money - elope.
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| Numbness tingles slightly
Don't you find it strange?
The feeling of nothing supposedly brings
A quiver in your brain
Maybe it's less than that, really
Actually, probably more
When the depth of reality plunges too deep
And strips out sanity's core
Function and smile
Smile, survive
Obligate the obligations
Forget the meaning of alive
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