Once I know who I'm not, then I'll know who I am....

The Insanity That is My Life.....

2009-12-24T04:38:48Z

Jesus Christ, I feel like a fucking maniac....I don't even know where to start.....

Lefty (the three legged bastard cat) managed to fry Cliff's desktop PC, so for about a month and a half, we've had no computer access. I have no idea how the cat screwed it up by walking on the keyboard, but there you go....

I swear all of our clients at work have gone bugshit insane. I've never heard such stupid shit. "I didn't know my dogs couldn't eat chocolate, I didn't know they would drink anti-freeze, You mean dogs can get hypothermia, too?" Seriously people, pull your heads out of your asses once in a while....

I've had a puppy off and on that someone's dog had and wouldn't take care of. The lady, despite repeated lessons from myself and Dr. Martinez, doesn't seem to get the point that puppies, just like baby people, need to eat more than once a day. The scary thing about all of this is that the woman is pregnant....

Speaking of pregnant....I'm not, thank God.....but Poodle is. At least according to Henry. She and I had one awkward diner and it just felt horrible. Her son still has not come home from the hospital and now she's reproducing again.....wtf??

Thanksgiving was good. I managed to escape from the hell hole that is living with my mother for a week. She was major pissed, but fuck her. I made those plans months in advance and all but whored myself out at work to get the week off.

She's pissed at me right now anyway. Somehow it's my fault that the water lines down at the barn are brittle (from freezing and thawing over and over for like seven years) and, guess what?, broke. We ended up having a screaming match when I asked her to drive half a block and shut off the main water line for the property and get my debit card out of my wallet and run to HomeDepot and get a length of pipe. She threw a faucet at my head and told me to get it my fucking self. By this point, there was nothing we could do that night, as the pipes were under a foot of water, it was dark and cold as fuck. I had to work all day Tuesday, but Cliff went and bought a bunch of supplies and spent most of the day re-doing the section of pipe that busted. I managed to con my way out of work early and helped him finish it. We turned the water on and it blew one of the joints out.

This morning, when he got off work, he picked up more pipe and told my mom and I that we could fix it, he was done. He then went to bed for the first time in two days. Mom and I manged to get it fixed without killing each other. Working with her is like working with a slightly retarded angry monkey. She forgets what she's doing: things like, don't step on the pipe we're trying to fix, don't put cement on the hose spiget. The good news is, i got to take a shower today for the first time since Sunday night. I'm sure you wanted to know that.

So, long story made only slightly shorter, she basically said she wanted me and Cliff out because we don't "pull our weight". I told her that was a great fucking idea and have since come up with a kind-of-plan. I'm giving Baxter and Sugar (the horses), Colby (my show ram), and Maggie and Angie (the goats) to April, one of the nurses at work who has a really nice place. I'm selling everything else. Then I'm getting the fuck out of dodge, folks.....

Life (I know my entry titles should be more original, but)

2009-11-18T04:11:07Z

Work has kind of calmed down. I don't feel like such a fucktard...Still stressful though. My supervisor was out last week so I was about ready to rip my hair out. I hate being left in charge. I managed to reconnect with Poodle. It was...odd. She's still with Bruce, but her little boy's doing better. Apparently, I give off an evil "I'm gonna steal your girlfriend" vibe. The list of my friends boyfriends who are convinced of this: Rebecca, Poodle and Jeeves. What the hell? Seriously, guys, how insecure are you? In other news, I'm freaking about something on the personal front, but don't wanna go into detail yet. Suffice it to say, I'm going nuts right now. Good news: I get most of next week off work so hopefully that will help with some of my stress. I'm also going to make an effort to update more often. Anyways, I'm off to try to get some sleep. Oh, almost forgot. Jenna Jameson was on Oprah today. I have it taped and it should be interesting...

Life....recently

2009-10-21T02:37:00Z

So, work sucks...more than usual. Rebecca is starting all kinds of shit with people. She's now engaged to her new boyfriend and her mother found out because Becca's ex's mother was keeping an eye on her (Becca's) myspace page. Becca posted something about it and Paul's mom called Opal (Becca's mom) to ask when the wedding was. She's not the same person I met four years ago. That sounds really shitty, but it's true. I guess I should take my own advice and step back and let her make her own choices....

Twylia's also starting to grate my nerves....I swear she complains about EVERYTHING! She's also developed this really pissy attitude (which is also driving me nuts).

Add constantly fighting with my mother to the mix and my life is now officially a roller-coaster. Can I get off, please??

I'm so angry and I really don't know why....Angry and frustrated, tired, worn out.....I know I'm heading down a bad road....I know these symptoms....I pull into myself, get really irritable, quit sleeping well, quit eating even half way decently, isolate myself from everybody and everything....The anger and frustration just builds and builds....

I know this is the opening act of "Sara's Semi-Annual Breakdown" and I know I don't wanna go through all that, but I can't seem to stop it. If I just knew why I was so angry and stressed and irritated with everyone, maybe I would feel better. The fucked up thing about it is that I know it's nothing they've done, it's me. I'm the one getting pissed with no reason, I'm the one letting petty bull-shit at work fuck with my head, I'm the one pulling away.

I just hate feeling like I want to go to sleep and not wake up. I don't want to do anything drastic or crazy, but sometimes the idea of just "not being" seems attractive. I long to just not exist for a while. Drop into a black hole, hide under the covers, something. I need a break, I just don't know what from. My mom? My job? Me?

I sometimes think this is what hamsters or goldfish feel like. Doing the same thing, over and over and over, and not knowing why. Your entire universe is a little cage or tank, and you think it's the most important damn thing in the history of everything. But really, your tank or cage does not mean shit. In the grand, big scheme of things, you're nothing. A blip on the radar, nothing more. There's so much more outside the confines of your tank or cage or mindset. I sometimes think I should envy people who never figure that out, the people who can never see or think past the confines of their universe. Thinking about the fact that in the long run, we're just an evolutionary fluke is enough to drive you mad. So, you don't. You push it away, ignore it. Go back to running on the wheel, swimming around the plastic plant, whatever. You get up, you go to work, you come home, you eat, you sleep, repeat.

Hell, the only break in your routine that sticks out is when you run out of milk.

God, I just went back and read that and realized how utterly depressing it is....That's a sample of the shit that bounces around in my head, aren't you glad you're not in there?? I need a vacation from me....

It's been an odd, odd week.....

2009-08-26T03:49:46Z

So, they let me out of the hospital. My arm is still messed up from the IV. When they give you phenergan IV and don't dilute it enough, it burns your veins (and leads to blown IV's) and the vein that starts in my right hand and goes up my arm feels like it's on fire if I use that hand too much....

It's also official that anytime I make plans to take a road trip with Karen, something tragic happens. Not her fault, just crappy timing in my life. Thursday last week, my grandmother got her slippers tangled up and fell on her 17 year old Dachund named Gretchen. Grandma is fine, the dog broke her fall. We got her situated and then I looked at Gretchen. I couldn't really tell if anything was wrong, but I didn't want to just dash her up to the clinic. I gave her a Benadryl to calm her down and an NSAID pain reliever. Took her in the next day and got some x-rays in the afternoon. Her back looked all right, but she had 6-10 really badly broken ribs. We decided to put her to sleep. It wouldn't have been fair to her to coax her along with heavy duty narcotic pain meds on the slim chance that they would heal. I sat outside under the tree with her while Dr. Martinez gave her the injection. The only good thing is that the creamatory service we use does employee pets for nothing, so I was able to get her creamated. I told my grandma if it hadn't been this, it would have been something else. She was blind, deaf and senile. She would have fallen off the porch or wandered into the street or something. It's been sad around here, though. She was a fixture in my life and I do miss her. But I also know that she doesn't hurt anymore, and she can see and play and run. I know it sounds corny, but I comfort myself by thinking that she's playing with Brandy (my toy poodle, a wonderful little dog) and Sophie (my min-pin who contracted lymphoma when I was 17). Rest in peace, old girl. We love you and miss you.....

On a lighter note (I just went back and re-read that second paragraph...it's almost enough to make someone drive their car off a bridge), I went to Austin on Saturday with Karen and her neice. I FINALLY SAW WICKED!!! *end of fangirl moment*. Sarah (K's neice) was a bit daunted by the fact that K and I picked over every little aspect of the show: the lighting, the stage direction, the costume changes (which were done to perfection), the actor's voices, etc. Marcie Dodd was Elphie and she was great. A bit short IMHO, and her face seemed a little to plump (I think Elphaba's face should be more hard, but, ehhh) but she has an amazing voice and great stage presence. We got the second understudy Glinda, who had an amazing voice. She was a little unsure of herself though, and Dodd's voice tended to overpower her's during the duets. She was amazingly spastic. During "Popular" she did a back bridge and pulled herself back up to her feet (to a great round of applause) and managed to break one of the straps on her dress, which proceded to smack her face for the rest of the number. Random Observation Time: She had AMAZING legs. I usually don't notice legs on people, but damn, her's were very, very nice. The concensus among us was that she must have done gymnastics. The lighting guy sucked, and the stage was awfully small (so they were a bit limited on how much wire work could be done) but all in all, it was a good trip.

The bad thing: Karen's car (the ever perky VW bug) decided not to cooperate and died on the way to my house. So we were stuck with her parents insanely large Caddy. None of us could figure out the A/C, we didn't bring any CD's, and the passenger side mirror was really, really ghetto. The A/C would get absolutely fridgid for ten minutes and then blow hot, humid air for fifteen. We stoped in West and bought baked goods at the Chezch bakery there. That's all that town is known for, BTW.

Work has been....work. It's getting to the end of dental month and it's finally picking back up. I did seven in three hours on Monday and six today.

Oh, yeah...Monday was my birthday. It was odd. The dogs started going ape-shit at about 3:30 am so I got up, let them out and noticed head lights in the drive way. I poked my head out the door and saw Cliff (well, I didn't see him, I didn't have my glasses on) and went back to bed. I sent him a text and asked why he was home three hours early. He said he forgot someting, and I went back to sleep. Went out to the truck Monday morning and discovered a dozen peach roses and a birthday card. Got to work, realized I had no lunch money. Not really a big deal. I don't eat much anyway. Tara usually takes us out for lunch on our birthday, but since she was gone for four days, her check was a bit short. She said she'd take me out on Friday. I occupied my time by sitting under the tree and reading. Dr. Tabone came out and told me happy birthday and asked what I had eatten for lunch. I explained that I was broke and we had no sandwich stuff at the house and he gave me ten bucks and told me to go eat something. "Everybody should get lunch on their birthday!" he said. He's actually a really good boss. I've worked for much worse.

Anyways, one last random observation: Best first line in a book, EVER: "The man in black fled across the dessert, and the gunslinger followed." Not counting Cliff, if you can guess what book that's from, you get extra-special brownie points.....

So basically....

2009-08-13T00:23:40Z

This week has sucked ass. Tara (my supervisor and head-technician at the clinic) is out of town from today until Friday. That means I'm in charge. Which basically means, I'm the medical director's bitch til Tara gets back. So, last night, I decided I needed to get a decent night's sleep, so I took an Ambien. I didn't know that if take Ambien with Cymbalta (the wonderful anti-depressant I'm back on) it does bad, bad things. At least to me....I always get weird side effects from Ambien, but this was a whole nother level. I spent all but like four hours thinking something big and black was on my ceiling trying to get me. Fun times, right??

So, I get to work at like 6:15 this morning, trying to be all "go-getter" and instantly became confused. Twylia was there. The reason I was confused was: she wasn't supposed to work this morning. Margaret was there, okay, cool. Becca was there, normal. Twylia...not so much. I thought, "Hey, maybe she got the schedule mixed up because of all the shift switches". Oh, no...It can't be that simple. Apparently, last night, Twylia and April had a...miscommunication and a patient was given a double dose of it's heart medication. This...is....not....good....AT ALL. It's one of HIS (ie: the medical director's) clients and he told Twylia that since she had given the second dose of meds without checking the chart, she had to stay at the clinic all night and very carefully monitor the patient.

She had consumed about eight Mountain Dew's and was wired as fuck. She explained the situation, which took a bit to penitrate my still-sleep muddled mind, and then explained that she had done basically everyone's job overnight. This was a good thing. The bad thing was, he (again, the medical director) hit the door in a bad mood and took it out on everyone there. The client is disappointed in him and won't return his phone calls. He punched the wall, and threw his stethescope across the treatment area. He got pissed that his dental this morning canceled, through a long convoluted phone conversation, and the other dental ended up being a mass removal. This dog also has a condition called "Cushing's Disease". It causes all kinds of problems, but the big one is that it makes surgery more risky. The dog took forever to go down and somehow that was my fault, I shaved too much hair off the dog and somehow that's a big freakin deal.

Rebecca complimented me on not crying or quiting, so I guess that's something. I just keep telling myself that it's only for three days, it's only for three days.

I got home, went to do the barn and managed to slice the fuck out of my left hand. So, I'm gonna take a shit ton of Benadryl and try to get some decent sleep....

Long Entry=Lots'O'Shit...

2009-08-08T05:12:36Z

Well, I got my week's vacation from work, but it wasn't quite the way I'd planned it....Hurt really, really bad on Sunday right after "spending time" with Cliff. He literally had to carry me out to the car. So we went to big Baylor (the main Baylor University hospital, for all non-Dallas folks), explained to them that it was endometriosis pain....if you don't know what that is, look it up and pray to whatever God you believe in you never develop it. I gave them the long, long list of drugs I'm allergic to (Codene, Dilaudid, Toredol, Zofram, Reglan, and Morphine). Those are all narcotic pain killers or anti-nausea drugs. I discovered all of these wonderful allergies back in 2003-2005 when I had about five surgeries and the grand tour of every Dallas ER. So, if you ever find yourself in Dallas and you need an ER, I'm the one to ask. I've been to Methodist Dallas, Big Baylor, Baylor Waxahachie, Parkland, UT Southestern, St. Paul, and the Ennis Regional Medical Center. Like I said, really long list. Anyway, Baylor sent me home, still hysterical because I finally agreed to endure the agonizing stomach cramps I get with Morphine.

Monday, I go to work like a good little girl, even though I still hurt like hell. Ended up spending the whole day throwing up and sitting at the desk making phone calls. Finally, Dr. Martinez, God bless her, had the bright idea of calling my family doctor. I did so and was told to come in as soon as I got off work. They had warned me that I may be hospitalized, so I went home, changed out of my grubby scrubs and took a shower. I figured if I was gonna go into the hospital I didn't want to smell like dog spit from doing four dental cleanings that morning. Sure enough, back into the hospital I go.

They basically just needed to keep my hydrated and mange my pain until it went back to a manageable/liveable level. Demeral and Phenergan every two hours IV...I was a happy camper...Until the first IV blew. The called a nurse from the ER and he managed to get another one in.

The OB/GYN told me I could either try these new birth control pills or I could have a hysterectomy. Sorry, not at 24...you are NOT taking away my uterus. So, I went home Thurday night. I'm pretty sure I lost some weight. Hospital food is...odd. I'm sorry, if I can't tell what the meat is, I'm not eatting it. I managed to convince my mom to bring me Burger King one night though. And they let me go outside to smoke.

Now for the fun part: Wednesday, a guy I hadn't seen before came in and said he was from the mental hospital in DeSoto. He informed me that I didn't have to talk to him. I replied that I knew if I didn't talk to him, I would be held on a 72 hour psych hold. So I answered his questions, not always honestly though. He asked what anti-depressants I'd been on, if I ever had counseling, did I have thoughts of suicide/harming myself/ others, any history of drug addiction in your family, etc, etc. I guess I convinced him I was gonna slit my wrists and that I wasn't just seeking drugs.

They sent me home on Thursday, so now all is kinda/maybe/sorta okay.

Went and had dinner with Karen tonight. Managed to talk the guy who owns (in my opinon) the best tattoo/piercing shop in Dallas if not the whole state. I got a vertical industrial (Google it, I'm sure there's photos). Jay (wonderful man that he is) said he'd never done one, so I convinced him to do the piercing (minus cost of jewlery) and give me a set of plugs for Cliff's ears. I wanted to get him something since he's spent so much time helping with things and helping me pay off the inordinant amout of money I owe the state to get my driver's licence renewed. He liked them and Jay did an awsome job on my ear. It's not rubbing my glasses or bugging my other piercing in that general area (my rooks, again Google). He seemed pleased and took several photos for his portfolio.

It didn't really hurt that bad, and anyway it was quick. The worst part was hearing the cartilage crunch when he went through. It did not hurt nearly as bad as my nostril piercings or my rooks. He (Jay) also told me if I can heal this one, he'll do the other one for the cost of jewelery. Karen was absolutly freaked out.

It was a good thing for me though. Relived alot of tension. I decided a few years ago that instead of hurting myself in a harmful maner, I'll have trained professionals do it in a "non-harmful" (ie: not 'a danger to yourself')

Anyway, Benadryl kicking in, must sleep. My supervisor Tara will be gone next week, so I'm in charge. Goodie *insert sarcasm here*.

I...AM....ANGRY

2009-07-30T17:59:11Z

And I really don't know what I'm angry at. I know that sounds stupid, but it's true. I think I'm angry at myself mostly. Mom's been sick for the past week and a half. She's having surgery tomorrow and hopefully it'll fix what ever this weird pain is she's been having. The down side is that if the surgery get messed up, she could end up in a wheel chair. While all of this is, I'm sure, interesting, that's not what's really bothering me. I know this is gonna sound selfish, but what the hell. I've been doing everything at the house: the dishes, feeding the dogs, the laundry, feeding the horses-sheep-goats-pigs, cleaning, etc, etc. No body says anything except for my mother who manages to find something to bitch about. I know she's in a lot of pain, but frankly, I almost don't care. She doesn't care when I hurt or I'm sick, so fuck it. My grandmother, as much as I love her, is just about useless. I get up this morning after getting an almost decent night's sleep, and it looks like the fucking kitchen has exploded. The stove was literally covered with scrambled eggs that had (by this point) baked on, all of the frying pans were dirty and just thrown on the counter, half the shit that was in the fridge was strewn to hell and back. And, to make everything perfect, Cliff and grandma were watching Jeopardy.
I feel like I'm on an emotional roller coaster right now. I have to come up with almost $1100 dollars by the second (which I think I've figured out how to do) so I can get my driver's license legal again. I can't sleep for more than an hour at a stretch. Work is killing me. The girl with "chronic fatigue" is back part time, being useless as ever. And, yes, before you jump down my throat, I know chronic fatigue is an actual illness. Trust me, I battled chemical depression for almost ten years and people tried to tell me that it wasn't real, that I just needed to "snap out of it". But I can't help but think that this girl's just full of shit. Our kennel girl, Debbie, is friends with Angie's (the fatigue girl) aunt and uncle, who Angie is living with. According to the story she told them, which they subsequently told Debbie, who passed it on to me, Angie has been calling work in the morning to see if she needs to come in and, supposedly, we tell her not to come in because there's not enough business. Bull-fucking-shit. She hasn't actually worked a full shift since before the fourth of July. She called in, actually no, she had her FATHER call her in sick on the 6th when we were fucking slammed with dogs going home from boarding. I'm sorry, but if you want to be treated like an adult and a valued member of the team, DON'T BE 37 AND HAVE YOUR FUCKING FATHER CALL IN SICK FOR YOU! If you're gonna call in, have the balls to do it your damn self.
Anyway, I'll get off my soap box about this. I could rant and rave for days about this girl. I'll say one more thing and then move on. A question, actually. Is it really truly necessary to take a bath in your perfume? When I can smell you outside the building and you're inside, that's too damn much smell. And I smoke, so I can't smell hardly anything and I can smell her at 40 paces.
The only positive thing so far is that I may start having Saturdays off. We're so damn slow on Saturday that we're loosing money by having three techs on the clock all day. If that's the case, I'll be ecstatic.
I'm just trying to focus on Austin on August 22. Wicked, baby. With Karen and her niece. And, hopefully, a new piercing from Tasha.
So, I'll wrap this up. Sorry for the rant, but I needed to vent before I literally tore my hair out. As it is, I'm engaged in a constant struggle not to do something stupid (I think you guys know what I mean). I'm grasping for anything, anything that'll cut through this anger, and sometimes pain seems like a good alternative. I just keep thinking that maybe, just maybe, I can do enough to release this anger but not actually do any damage. I need to break something or hurt something, but I don't want to hurt anyone around me and I can't afford to break anything. Maybe taking my anger out on myself would be the safest idea.
Consider yourself warned: I think this is building towards one of my huge, oh-my-fucking-god, breakdowns.

What do you think....

2009-07-12T01:32:58Z

So...I actually looked at the books I'm reading right now....Mick Foley's "Foley Is Good" and Dante's "Divine Comedy". Mick Foley...Champion of the death match, hard-core professional wrestler....and Dante, a middle ages poet....what...the...fuck....

I've also been in a good mood all day today because Cliff ordered UFC 100 on PPV tonight. The reason I'm looking forward to it is simple: I want to see Brock Lesnar get his ass handed to him. Lesnar, the ex-WWF wrestler....the man of no neck. He was a horrible fake wrestler and he's an even worse MMA fighter.

I think I'm a bit disturbed....what do you think??

So...yeah....

2009-07-04T01:30:10Z

I'm going to try to make an actual effort to be on here more often....I miss it...wow...that sounds kinda lame...

I feel slightly...conflicted right now, though. Not about here, but about some stuff going on in my "real life". A while (I guess about two years) ago, I got to be really close friends with someone really quickly. She was...touchy, I guess...very physically affectionate. I sort of...mis-read...this....and made the stupid mistake of telling her how I felt. I was quickly rebuked. In my defense though, she called me after she'd known me for like two days and when I asked why she called (b/c I'm not a big phone person) she said she missed me....wtf? She would also say things like "Wow, that song reminds me of you" and it would be some bubbly-romantic-pop thing...again, wtf?

So, to make a long story hopefully shorter...we had a big, knock down drag out fight about something really, really stupid and quit talking. I've been thinking about this alot b/c of all the shit that's been going on with Poodle and I got on MySpace (f'in MySpace) and found her. Sent her a message explaining why I acted the way I did and apologizing. She wrote me back and said she'd been thinking about me too and was glad to hear from me. She's comming out here for a 4th of July party tomorrow. She's bringing her b/f..who I've never met...I just don't know what to feel about all this.....I miss her as a friend, but I don't know if I can deal with all the mixed signals again.....

Anyway...can anybody give me some advice on this, please??

Really long post that contains way too much information

2009-07-02T04:19:44Z

So, I saw this somewhere on MySpace and thought I'd give it a try...Just a warning though, it's a lot of pointless information...
The idea is to post 100 things about yourself...basically....

1. My name is Sara
2. I work full time at a vet clinic
3. I used to be the assistant manager of an "adult novelty store"
4. I also used to be the "Do you want fries with that?" girl at Wendy's
5. I got my first tattoo when I was 18
6. It's the one on my shoulder of a heart with three swords through it
7. I have too many animals: six dogs, 14 cats, 2 snakes, a fish, 3 chickens, 2 ducks, 2 farm pigs, 2 potbellied pigs, 5 sheep, 2 goats and 2 horses
8. I'm a HUGE theater geek
9. I basically lived in a community theater from the age of six until I was 13
10. The first show I learned all the music to was "Oklahoma"
11. I know all the lyrics to, but have never seen: "Phantom", "Les Mis", "A Chorus Line", "Miss Siagon", and (here's the shocker) "Wicked"
12. I read almost anything I can get my hands on
13. I read "Gone with the Wind" in when I was 11 and "War and Peace" when I was 13
14. I read "W&P" just so I could say I had...don't remember much about it
15. I'm a huge Stephen King fan
16. I'm still pissed at Anne Rice
17. I'm currently reading: "Zodiac: Unmasked", "A Little Bit Wicked", and the complete books of Adam's "Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy"
18. I consider myself a Christian, but some of my beliefs would make most "normal" Christians freak out
19. I think that Communism is a good idea on paper, but will never work in the real world
20. I'm a WW2 history buff
21. One of my "dirty little secrets": I used to play (on a regular basis) Magic and D&D
22. I smoke too much, but don't drink hardly at all
23. I have several nicknames: Scooter, Tater (or Tatermash), Bear (just to name a few)
24. I had a HUGE crush on John Goodman when I was a kid
25. Thus, I now have an obsession with big guys (my b/f's have gotten bigger and more tattooed)
26. I have a very, very specific type of guy that I'm attracted to, but not a specific type of girl
27. I have 7 tattoos
28. They are: the heart on my right shoulder blade, 2 snakes on my right calf, 3 number 13's (two on my left ankle, one on my right), the words "No Day But Today" around my right ankle, and a bound angle that takes up most of my left calf.
29. I would love to own a big (100+ pound) dog some day
30. I will never, as long as I live, own the following breeds of dogs: German Shepard, Lab, Chow, Sharpei, or American Eskimo
31. I no longer have an appendix or a gallbladder
32. The worst injury I've ever had I got in high school when I got slammed into a fence by my heifer and broke a grand total of 8 ribs (four on each side of my spine)
33. My family is mostly Irish, English, Welsh and Scottish....so we all glow in the dark and can't cook
34. I have two younger brothers and an older sister
35. I had hip displasia when I was born
36. I'm right handed
37. I wear tank tops constantly
38. I was about two seconds away from joining the Air Force when I graduated from high school
39. I wear glasses because I'm near sighted in my right eye and far sighted in my left
40. I had a min-pin when I was a kid and she was my best friend
41. I have made two road trips to Oklahoma this year: one to Tulsa for a book signing and one to the Oklahoma International Mozart Festival
42. I have never seen stranger billboards than on those road trips
43. I will sit at a $10 black jack table all night if you let me
44. I ALWAYS make money when I go to the horse races
45. I have tiny feet and hands
46. I'm 5'4"
47. I weight about 140-150 lbs
48. I type faster than I think usually
49. I thought about majoring in Literature in college
50. But I decided to go with this instead: double major Pre-Vet/Animal Science, double minor Biological Science and Psychology
51. I still don't know what the hell I was thinking
52. I'm friends with one of my English teachers from high school
53. I've known my friend Rachel since fourth grade
54. Karen has known me longer than my boyfriend has
55. I'm addicted to the Sims
56. I take too much Excedrin on days that I'm at work
57. I wear a ring on a chain around my neck that my grandfather gave my grandmother on their 20th wedding anniversary
58. I bite my finger nails
59. I do this because when I was 9 months old, I burned the palms of my hands and can't feel texture with the tips of my fingers
60. I have a handful of scratches up and down my arms from dog and cat scratches
61. I'm a Ford lover
62. But I currently drive a Chevy
63. I would rather drive a stick shift than an automatic
64. I tend to be a wall flower
65. I don't trust people easily
66. I can be considered clingy
67. I don't like to be touched unless I know you and trust you...
68. I recently got an iPhone
69. I've never seen the end of "Ask the Dust" even though I own the damn thing
70. The only movie I ever demanded my money back on was "House of the Dead"
71. I love the first three Saw movies...then they just got stupid
72. I've spent almost an entire day (23.5 hours) of my life in a movie theater watching Titanic
73. I have the most random music tastes
74. The first concert I ever went to was Bette Midler (when I was like 6)
75. The last concert I went to was Kristin Chenoweth
76. I've also seen: Evanescence, Seether, Papa Roach, BLS, Dope, Dexter Freebish, Alien Antfarm, The HorrorPops, Lars Frederickson and the Bastards, Nashville Pussy, Rev Horton Heat, Junior Brown, Cycle of Pain, Flogging Molly, Dropkick Murphy, Garth Brooks, The Dixie Chicks, Lit, Weezer, Orgy, Manson, and Creed
77. Manson was by far, the worst stage show I've ever seen
78. I probably own more porn dvd's than most guys
79. The only three blonds I've ever found attractive: Cheno, Sharon Stone, and Jenna Jameson
80. I know more about personal lubricants than anyone in their right mind should
81. I love Converse tennis shoes
82. I walked out of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon"
83. I firmly belived that Tarantino and Rami are the two best mainstream film directors right now
84. I convinced my mother to take me to see "Eyes Wide Shut" when I was a kid...it wasn't worth it
85. Two of my favorite movies are the Kill Bill movies
86. My favorite comedian is Eddie Izzard (YOU MUST WATCH HIM!)
87. The first time I saw the movie version of EVITA was at the first air conditioned theater in Dallas
88. RENT probably had the most impact on my life of any stage show
89. I need to write more
90. I used to be really self destructive
91. The only thing I like at Old Navy is their guy's pj bottoms
92. I used to do "shocking" things with my friend Poodle and Cherry Vodka Sours at a club
93. I grew up in the "gay" part of town
94. I went to my first Pride Parade when I was 8
95. I was baptized by the man many conservative (ie: Moral Majority-700 Club) Christians would consider the Anti-Christ
96. I work for three Catholic vets
97. My boss thinks that because I have tattoos and such that I must be a "crazy liberal"...he was surprised to find out how wrong he was
98. I'm a bit of a "gun nut"
99. I don't believe in big bussiness or big government
100. I'm a Texas native

There you have it! The complete list of useless information about me....

Random, Ranting Entry

2009-06-24T03:44:23Z

So, I've come to the conclusion that vet tech school was a load of bull-shit. They don't prepare you AT ALL for how the real world works in a clinic. They tell you nothing of how bone-weary tired you are from fourteen days of 12-14 hour shifts. They don't tell you shit about how absolutely livid you get when you see a THREE MONTH OLD PUPPY come in that has had it's ears literally cut off it's head. There's nothing in any book about how devastated you are when a patient you've known for years dies suddenly, in your arms during a "routine" teeth cleaning, or how gut wrenching it is to watch the euthanasia of your first patient. There's nothing mentioned about clients that continue to cling to their pets, watching them suffer in pain, insisting that you could-should-can do more, or the people who come in with a pet that they don't bother to vaccinate because they don't want to part with the twenty bucks it would cost at the SPCA and then claim to love the pet and despair over "what she could have been" when it dies of distemper (one of the most horrible ways to die, IMHO).
I guess, on the flip side of that though, they also don't tell you about getting to see a patient come in, mostly dead (ie: a dust mop) and within a few days be back to his usual happy self. They don't tell you about the people who stop you at a fast food place and thank you for saving their dog.
I've seen all of this in just the few years I've been in this field, and for all it's faults, I could not picture myself doing anything else. I think the perfect example is one of my own cats, Lefty. My clinic does all the medical stuff for the Animal Control of DeSoto. They brought in a box-live trap that had two very, very (about two pound) kittens in it. One (the female) was fine. The other, her brother, was not. His right leg had been shredded. Our theory (being that this occured during the first cold snap of the year) was that the two of them were sleeping in a car motor and a belt caught his leg when the car was started. I asked the doctor who was looking at them what would happen to him. She said all she could do was send pain meds and anti-biotics with him to the shelter. I then asked if he would survive. She said probably not. Sticking my neck out, I asked what would happen if one of us (the nurses) would volunteer to take him. She said that an amputation would be the best thing. I struggled with myself (I already had way too many cats at this point) and asked what it would cost me. Without thinking about it, she said if I would take him, she would do the surgery for free. I caved and agreed. Normally, I can let go...distance myself, if you will. Something about this kitten got to me. He was so calm and loving. He just wanted to be held. We scheduled the surgery for the following Wednesday.
He came through the actual procedure fine, but while he was recovering, he stopped breathing and his heart stopped. I now became frantic and hysterical. After about ten or fifteen minutes, we got him going again, but he was blind. This is common in cats that arrest like that. Two days later, his eye sight started to return and he hasn't looked back since. The missing leg doesn't seem to slow him down and he keeps up with everyone else just as well as if he'd had four legs. When I have a shitty day at work, I come home and cuddle with him. He reminds me that without me, he wouldn't be here. Although I would never have known him, I believe the world would be an uglier place without him.

In other, lighter, news....the Kristin concert was amazing. Except for the chellist falling asleep on stage. I managed to sneek into the green room and the road trip itself was a blast. Where else but on a road trip with Karen through deepest darkest Oklahoma could you find a gas station named "Mama's Get-n-Scram" that proudly proclaimed "WE NOW HAVE WORMS!". Or, and I kid you not here, a billboard advertising a scratch off Jesus lotto ticket. We actually found a resturant named "The Pie Hole" and I discovered that 15th street is like a Wicked fan-girl's dream. Oz (a head-shop, not relavent), The Emerald City (don't know what kind of store it is) and The Yellow Brick Road Pub are all right next to each other.

I've also decided the next time I go to Oklahoma with Karen, I'm not telling anyone at work about it. Last time, my grandpa died the week before. This time, one of my friends and co-workers was placed in ICU b/c of blood clots in her lungs (she's doing fine now, thank you).

That has led me to a new topic, slightly connected. I was ruminating on this entry earlier when I drove by a church with a billboard proclaiming "Prayer Brings Peace". Without any prompting that I can remember, I suddenly thought, 'Prayer brings peace because you refuse to take responsibility for something and lay it on someone else.' I felt slightly blasphemous, but the thought continued to make sense (to me anyway, so don't put much faith in that). This is what all prayers are, basically: "Dear God, there's a bunch of shit going on. I don't want to worry about it too much, so I'm dumping it on you and if something awful happens, then it's not my fault. Oh yeah, you rock, by the way". Feel free to correct me if I'm out of line here, but it seems to make sense. I'm spiritiual. Do I believe in God? Without a doubt. Do I consider myself a Christian? Not in the traditional sense, but yes, I do. I just don't see how laying your problems at someone else's feet for any other reason than venting is just passive-aggressive. "I don't wanna fuck with it; you do it."

Anyway, I'm off topic and it's late and I have another 12 hour day starting at five am...Wish me luck guys....

The rambings of an ambien rattleled brain....

2009-05-17T06:05:08Z

I'm feeling really awsome right now so I'm gonna do something I haven't done in forever....I'm gonna put my ipod on shuffle and see what pops up for the first 20 songs. I'll give title and artist. Please guess how/why i know that song. Ready? Go!

1: "She Didn't Have Time Time"- Terri Clark
2: "Tomorrow Comes a Day too Soon"- Flogging Molly
3: "People that Are Going to Hell"- The Vandals
4: "A Sentimental Man"- Joel Gray
5: "Dotted With Hearts" - HorrorPops
6: "Brightest and Best (Star in the East)"- Kathy Mattea
7: "Ghouls" - HorrorPops
8: Ohio (Come Back to Texas)- Bowling for Soup
9: "With a Wonder and a Wild Desire" - Flogging Molly
10: "Loose Control" - Evanescence
11: "The Morning of the Dragon" - Broadway Cast
12: "Origin" by Evanescence
13: "The real folk blues by Mai Yamane & Seatbelts
14: "Perfume and Promises" by Indina Menzel
15: "Tobacco Island" by Flogging Molly
16: "Finnegan's Wake" by Dropkick Murphy's
17: "You're so vain" by Carley Simon
18: "My girlfriend's dead" by the Vandals
19: "Cocaine" by Eric Clapton
20. "Wanted Dead or Alive" by Bon Jovi

My grandfather, "UP WITH TREES", and roadkill.....

2009-04-22T18:26:33Z

The title's odd, but go with it. It'll make sense in just a bit...I promise.

Easter sucked for me this year. I got up early to go to church and saw I had like three missed calls from Cindy (my other mother). I was about to call her back when she called me again and told me that my grandfather (her father) had passed away that morning.

I was (and still am, I guess) devastated. He was such a wonderful man. He and my grandmother (the one in Texas) are without a doubt my heroes. A bit about a great man, if you're so inclined...

Milton "Pudge" Hawkins was one of 12 siblings. Money was tight, so he joined the Army Air Corps. He joined awhile before the draft for WW2, so he was like the father figure to alot of those guys. He ended up stationed at Pearl Harbor and his job was to maintain 3-4 planes.

He said the great thing about the Army was that you could have two milks a day during the week and all you wanted on Sundays. This makes sense once you know one of his favorite things was to drop popcorn into a glass of milk, let the corn soak it up and then eat it with a spoon. Anyway, he got up one Sunday morning and headed to the mess hall to get a stock of milk for the day. He was walking out the door (milk in hand) when the bombs started. He said nobody knew what was happening or what the hell they were supposed to do. He just ran to the airfield and got his plane ready. The pilot showed up in his pj's and took off. His plane was one of only about 5 that could take off that day. They scored two confirmed hits on the Japanese zeros and probably took out a lot more.

After that fateful event, he was sent to Europe. There he was a top turret gunner on a B-17 bomber. Basically, he sat in a huge plexi-glass bubble on top of the bomber and shot fighters. This position had a 94% fatality rate. He managed to beat those odds, somehow. He flew on about 20-25 missions and kept a log of each one in a little spiral notebook: What the weather was, where they went, how long the mission took, the payload of the bombs they dropped, how many dog-fights he saw, how many bullet holes were in the plane when they landed.

He retired from the Army after the war and moved back to Illinois and married my grandmother. He worked in the coal mines (which were huge in Sparta) and raised five kids. He was a Free Mason and long time member of the Lion's Club. He was vitally important in getting the United Mineworker's Union into Southern Illinois and loved to golf.

He was great man who never knew it. He was fair and loved his family. He meant so much to me because he never treated me any different from any of my cousins. I got the same number of phone calls, the same birthday and Christmas gifts and the same intense hugs.

He died at the age of 87, and his last meal was a plate of fresh-picked fried mushrooms my Aunt Christy made for him. Over 400 people turned out at the wake, and the funeral was truely touching.

He was a man of integrity and honesty. He will be sorely missed (that doesn't really describe how much I miss him still, but it's as close as I can get).

So, with that wonderful news droped on my head, I now had to figure out when/how/what I was going to get to Illinois. Cindy said I may be flying out Monday, but it would probably be Tuesday. We got a flight on Tuesday afternoon and got to Saint Louis without too much trouble. Wednesday was the viewing and Thursday was the funeral. An exausting 3 days to say the least.

Flew home Thursday night, got up at 5 am Friday to go to work. Worked like 13 hours Friday, worked 12 hours Saturday and then went home and crashed for about 2 1/2 hours before setting out for Karen's house. The combination of the Sherff's department having four people down on the concrete on the side of the road and me getting lost meant that I was a bit late (a bit here equals about fourty five minutes).

We packed into Karen's too-bright-and-cheery-at-3am beetle and took off for Tulsa, Oklahoma. Her friend Kris (who I ended up having a great time with) and I promptly fell asleep. I awoke at a Love's and manged my first smoke in about four hours. We got something to drink and snack on and were off again.

This is where the road trip becomes surreal. We were headed to Border's for a book signing. None of us had gotten more than six hours of sleep in the last three days and were a bit nuts.

Karen and tried diligently to explain Rent to Kris, but Karen's ipod had the tracks all messed up order-wise, so we were trying to explain both acts at the same time. Needless to say, it ended with the two of us throwing up our hands and exclaiming that she just had to see the movie.

About now, Kris has noticed a disturbing trend on the Oklahoma freeway. Roadkill. Lots and lots of roadkill. Massive, earth shattering, OMFG does no one clean up the roads here? road kill. We were discussing this phenom when we noticed the signs stating that were approaching a toll booth. Like idiots, we pull into the exact-change-only lane and proceed to watch Karen chunk change into the machine. Kris and are frantically searching pockets, purses and the floor boards for any spare silver. At one point, Karen ends up with a handful of pennies (that the machine won't take) and promply throws them at Kris stating "No pennies, bitches!". The lady in the booth next to us who would have been happy to take our five dollar bill and give us change looked at us like we were the window lickers on a short bus. This look complemented her two bottle of aqua net hair spray hair doo that Karen is convinced had a tape dispencer hidden in it. This came up because we contemplated tearing up the five dollar bill and chucking it at the machine. The hidden roll of Scotch tape was for her to tape the bills back together. She may have had some roadkill hidden up there too, there was an abundance of it.

We escaped the toll booth (finally) and were back on the road. Karen's way too polite GPS voice informed us that we had to make a turn onto a different freeway. This caused some confusion that I honestly don't remember.

We made it to Tulsa, finally and noticed another disturbing trend. Not roadkill (they must clean that up in the city) but odd signs stating "UP WITH TREES!" all along the roads. These were obviously sponsored by the group/family/organization who had it's name printed under the Up With Trees part, but the sheer number of them was overwhelming. The ironic thing is: THE WHOLE DAMN SIGN IS MADE OF WOOD!! From trees!! WTF?! This bothered us and it gave us enough material to occupy ourselves for about 30 minutes.

We missed the turn into Border's (because OK doesn't seem to know how to lable streets correctly) and ended up taking a little detour through a part of residential Tulsa. There we discovered a house with prison shop work modern art in the front yard, a for sale sign for a horse (which made me giggle, I don't think the others got why I found this amusing) and....the strangest damn shop sign I've ever seen in my life.

Tatermash Oilcloth. That was all it said. We sat in the parking lot for about ten minutes trying to figure it out. What the hell is Tatermash Oilcloth??? If someone knows, please tell me...It's making me nuts. We also saw Steve's Sundry's, which for some reason we decided held the first edition of the ten commandments (did I mention no sleep?) and the Villiage Inn Resturant with a sign that proudly proclaimed "WE HAVE PIE".

We got to Border's and staked out our place in line. We were probably ten people back and Karen proceeded to make everyone think she worked there. This is not a dig on Karen. She has a amazing gift of pacing around a room and talking to/making friends with everyone there. She be-friended Colten and his friend (who's name I didn't catch) and we whiled away the three hour wait talking with them.

This book signing ended up being mass confusion. The line was HUGE and people were having to wait for hours. They ran out of books, and no body seemed to know if you needed to buy your book first or get one of the ones off the table.

There was a brief Q&A which will always be remembered by me as "Christian and the panties". A young boy informed Karen that he like Kristin Chenoweth because she was genuine and wore panties in public. Karen convinced this young man to inform his idol of this fact, and when he did, he turned the brightest shade of red I've ever seen. Kristin laughed and thanked him. Colten then informed her that his deaf friend (who is actaully deaf) could only hear really high notes. She did the Cheno-note and everyone clapped. Colten's friend was amazed.

We got our books signed, took a picture and went in search of a Denny's. I had decided in my punch-drunk, no-sleep haze that I wanted Denny's and smokes and nothing else would do. The first Denny's we were directed to by the pleasently obnoxious brittish sounding GPS was closed. We set out for another one. We finally found an open gas station (on Sundays, they're like cops: never one when you need one) and ended up in the sorta-crackhood part of Tulsa.

At this point in the adventure, we were all exausted, hungry and ready to kill each other. Karen had sweet talked the manager into holding the big book placard set up behind the table at the book signing for her, so we had to go back. We waited forever to be served by a nice-in-a-catatonic-way waiter who was old enough to be my father and headed back. Turns out, our little voyage was needless. We were about two miles away from the damn book store, but the GPS had flung us all the way out and then back in to get there.

We staked out seats that had been set up for the Q&A and laughed like mental patients (prompting many the odd look from Marci, the dreaded assistant). We got our stuff signed, but Karen's poster ended up being signed to the wrong person (long story, and my hands hurt) and, once Karen was armed with coffee and I with nicotine, set off for Dallas.

We stopped for dinner just outside of Tulsa and drove in a huge circle for about twenty minutes trying to get back on the freeway in the right direction. All three of us were so out of it, so punch-drunk tired that we laughed hysterically the whole ride back. I kept getting smacked by my huge signed cover of Kristin's book and everything was hiliarious.

Got back in town around 11:30 pm and I still had a one hour drive home by myself. I rolled the window down, cranked my music up and chain-smoked to stay away. Got a couple hours of sleep and went to work Monday feeling hung over.

It was worth it though. Not for the book, or the memorabilia, but for the laughs we got in along the way. I didn't go for the chance of meeting Kirstin or to have an autographed copy of the biography, I went for the adventure, and got my money's worth for sure....

Don't hold your breath.....

2009-03-28T00:49:31Z

But I may be writing again....the weather's crappy right now....they're calling for a possibility of snow flurries tonight and it was 70 this morning when I left for work. So, the combination of good music on my pc (HorrorPops) and slightly crappy radio music in my truck (thanks to the basic model package), goofy fucking weather, lack of funds, a mind-numbing day at work, and some prodding from bsofthewest and kjnyc , I will hopefully be writing and posting something soon.

I'm hoping to have the rough draft done tonight and have it shot off to my betas...

Oh, the tripod cat is sickly...he now gets anti-biotics....

Good God...I work too much....

2009-02-25T02:23:01Z

So, I've been gone for...a while now....
Things have been crazy...My supervisor at work had to go out of town so I had to cover a bunch of shifts that I normally wouldn't work. I put in close to 130 hrs in a two week period. The good thing about this is that my check will be really, really nice.
I got new glasses. First time in about ten years. NO MORE TAPE!! Thank goodness for a job with decent benefits.
The dumb girl at work "strained" her back and has to be out for four weeks of bed rest...does this strike anyone else as bullshit?? I pulled a muscle in my back and they told me that I just needed to take it easy. WTF? The drugs were nice though....
Life has just been nuts....
We had a baby lamb Saturday night...a little girl who weighs 16 lbs...and she looks like she's gonna be a keeper.
Baxter has moved down the street to live with a girl who's borrowing him to run barrels. So far, he seems to be doing good for her...It seems like something he'd enjoy and she just loves him...
Anyway, what's been up with you folks?? I miss talking to all of you!!!

An update!

2008-12-15T04:01:22Z

So, the title of this entry is un-inspired, I know, but bear with me...

I went to dinner with Karen (kjnyc for those of you not in the know) last night with Cliff. I managed to secure a kick-ass parking spot in the gayborhood and was making my way to Hunky's when I was flagged down by a large, middle aged tattooed man hollering my name. Jay (who now owns the tattoo shop I use and used to shop-rat at) came running over and told me that he heard I'd been sick. I was confused and asked how he'd heard. He told me that a friend of mine that had come into the shop with me in the past had come in and told him. I asked which friend (thinking it was Karen and wondering why the hell she was at the shop) and he told me it was Alyssa, the assistant manager at Sara's. I was livid when I heard this. Basically, what this means, is that she KNEW I was sick, told SOMEONE ELSE I was sick and STILL DIDN'T STICK UP FOR ME AT THE SHOP! I've also yet to hear from her or Henry since I got shit-canned....
Besides that, dinner was great. I bored Karen to death (I'm sure) talking about wrestling...I'm a huge fan of a wrestler named Mick Foley (I think he's cute as hell...Cliff thinks I'm nuts for this....). If you want to know what I'm talking about, go to YouTube and look for his "Cane Dewey" promo....
Anyway...I went to Barn's and Noble and spent too much money....but I needed something to read. The check out guy looked at me like I was nuts....This was my purchase: "Kiss Kiss Kill Kill" by the HorrorPops, "Bring it On!" by the same, "How to Make Love Like a Porn Star" by Jennna Jameson (another obsession of mine) and "Foley is Good" by Mick Foley.
So, that's basically all that's been going on with me. I watched "Clerks 2" and "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy" today....fun times, fun times....

The state of things....

2008-12-12T04:24:58Z

A legend died today...Bettie Paige passed away at the age of 85. That's not the shitty part though...the shitty part is that to read this bit of news, you have to scroll all the way to the bottom of a web page and it's listed third in a list of entertainment news. AmericanIdol getting a "Face lift for 2009" is somehow more newsworthy....
This woman was a fore-runner in her field. Her work and pictures have been an insipiration to many people for years. Her work has influenced popular culture, films, fashion, and art (and more than a few people's skin).
She was a true legend.

Six long days, a hole in the neck, and the loss of a job

2008-12-10T17:58:45Z

Well, Wednesday, I went to work and felt fine. I actually got a lunch break and played it safe, I went to Subway where I got my traditional ham-on-bread. Got back to work at 2:30 and started feeling like shit. My head felt hot, my body felt cold, I couldn't stop shivering, and I hurt all over. I hurt worse than I've ever hurt in my life. It was mainly my ears, my head, my lower back, my hips and my knees. I got sent home (against my protests) and was running a 102 degree fever. I spent the rest of the day in bed and got up Thursday still feeling like crap. So much for it being a 24 hr bug. Friday I figured if it was bad enough to cause me to miss two and a half days at work, it was bad enough to go to the drs. So I'm sitting in the exam room crying because I haven't been able to eat anything or sleep for three days. They decide they need to start an IV on me because I'm dehydrated, but they can't find a vein anywhere. I get admited to the hosptial where they try to find a vein and are just as successful.
So, in comes a surgeon and he tells me they're going to put in a central line. DON'T EVER DO THIS IF YOU CAN AVOID IT!!! It was without a doubt one of the most painful things I've ever had done.
They start me on fluids, and they were at least giving me good drugs (demerol, baby) and they run all kinds of tests. The conclusion that they reach is *cue dramatic music* A KIDNEY INFECTION! Granted, it was one of the worst one's the doctor's seen, but still....
I get home and Cliff calls and says I need to call my manager at the store. Then I find out I've been fired from the shop because I didn't find coverage for my shif on Monday night. I'M SORRY! I WAS IN THE FUCKING HOSPITAL! So, now I'm down to one job and I have a hole in the side of my neck.
Hope your week was more fun than mine was....

That's it..I'm done....

2008-11-14T02:38:48Z

After this past couple of weeks, I'm about ready to wash my hands of the whole damn mess. I've decided that my rib will NEVER heal as long as I work at that clinic. This Tuesday, it was actually starting to feel better. I go to work and I end up helping one of the doctors mask a dog down (put it under) so we could suture a gash on it's foot. Well, he decided he didn't like the gas and started fighting. Part of me realizes it probably isn't his fault. When an animal goes under, they go through four phases of anastesia. Stage One: normal, alert, awake. Stage Two: Uncontrolable muscle spasms and vocalization. Stage Three: where you want them for most surgery. Stage Four: umm, dead. So, he hits stage two with a vengence and starts flailing around. I'm trying to hold this seventy pound dog down, on a table, and keep the mask on his face so he'll hit stage three. While I'm doing this, I'm bascially lying on top of him and he rolls onto his left side and kicks out with his back leg, catching me right in the rib I hurt a couple of weeks ago. I don't make any big deal out of it. I'm off after this done, I'll go home, take a muscle relaxer and go to bed, I thought. We get the foot fixed, and the whole time, my side hurts worse and worse. I go outside to smoke (since I haven't had one since 6 that morning, it's now 2 pm) and when I stand up from sitting on the curb, I throw up. Not fun. I go back in and start waking the dog up. I put him on the floor and I'm just waiting for him to swallow so I can pull his ET tube. In about three seconds, he goes from not having any reflexes or swallowing to up and thrashing around, WITH A TUBE STILL IN HIS THROAT! So, I grab him by the hair on his neck with my left hand and reach to pull the tube with my right and he comes across and gashes my forearm open. I get him subdued and finally look at my arm and realize there may be something actually wrong. I have blood from my elbow to my fingertips. I hand the dog off and go clean my arm. I'm standing there like an idiot holding gauze on it and it won't stop ozing. So, Dr. Martinez slaps a dressing on it and sends me to the urgent care clinic.
They spend half an hour debating wether it needs stiches (they decided it didn't) and gave me a script for aniti-biotics and muscle relaxers. They take X-rays and send me home. I go in today b/c the MR they gave me made me sick and they tell me that I have to have a CAT scan tomorrow morning. So, I have to miss another shift at work and I know they're not gonna find anything. It's a torn muscle, it's not gonna show up!
In other news, I'm sick of being the one that has to take care of everyone else. My friends, I don't mind, but my family is wearing me out. I can't do it. It never seems to matter if I'm sick or hurt, I still have to solider on like nothing's wrong because there's no one else who'll do it. Never mind that the Dr. said not to lift anything over 20 lbs., there's two pens in the barn that have to be cleaned, 800 lbs of feed to unload, 8 bales of straw to be put up and a 70 lb. body that has to be taken to the dump. That's what I did the day I re-injured my ribs...Don't you envy my life???

A fun entry before the real one....

2008-11-14T02:24:33Z

Stolen from bsofthewest:

Okay, if you saw me in the back seat of a police car, what do you think I would have been arrested for?

Post your answer in my comments, then add this to your own journal, so you can see what your friends think you would be arrested for!

Music meme borrowed from c_lover

2008-11-10T05:29:06Z

Step 1: Put your music player on shuffle.
Step 2: Post the first line (unless the first line reveals the song title) from the first 30 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing.
Step 3: Strike through the songs when someone guesses both artist and track correctly.
Step 4: Looking them up on Google or any other search engine is CHEATING!
Step 5: If you like the game, post your own.

1. I'm wakin' up and bakin' watching the parade cause today's the day I got over you
2. Lying naked, alone, on the bathroom floor
3. Can't you see I'm easily bothered by persistance?
4. I feel like a woman, I feel like I care
5. When you ask me who I am, what is my vision, do I have a plan?
6. Christmas bells are ringing! Christmas bells are ringing!
7. The enemy of the world, our greatest defeat, slave warfare
8. How do you document real life when real life's getting more like fiction each day?
9. Falling, I'm falling
10. Is it okay if I speak to you today?
11. Because I'm deluded, perfectly flawed, I shall live by passion and not by law
12. When we were young the future was so bright
13. Hey, just when you think you are the shit, well, you look down and your fly is unzipped
14. I almost got drunk in school at fourteen where I almost made out with the homecomming queen
15. End of passion play, crumbling away
16. To all you weak mc's, to all you rocker wannabe's
17. Debbie just hit the wall, she never had it all
18. What'd you forget?
19. Glida, is it true you were her friend?
20. There's a boy who works at Starbucks who is very ispirational
21. She's a killer, she's a keeper
22. You, you called me out
23. If we move in together will I still be a slob?
24. I work down at the Pizza Pit and I drive an old Hundai
25. What's the time? Well, it's gotta be close to midnight
26. Last night, I had a dream
27. I'm movin in, she's movin out
28. And all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy
29. Mark? Hi. I told her not to call you
30. Her finger traced I love you in the palm of my hand

Update!

2008-11-10T05:10:20Z

So, on life in general...
Things are good. It's so nice to finally have Cliff down here. Keeps me a bit more sane...
The three legged cat is doing well. His vision came back all the way, and he's moving around really well. I don't think he could really use that leg all that well before we took it off. He plays and romps just like a normal kitten should.
As usual, I'm working too much and not sleeping enough.
Oh! My playbills came in the mail!! I was thrilled!!!

Lefty the three legged cat

2008-11-05T04:02:58Z

So, last week, animal control brought us two kittens that had gotten caught in a live trap. One of them was fine, thin, but nothing medically wrong. The other one looks like it had gotten into a fight with a fan belt and lost...his right leg had a huge laceration all around to his toes.
I asked Dr. Martinez what we were going to do. She said that unless someone here wanted to take him, they'd just send him back to the shelter with antibiotics. I said, will he live if we do that? and she told me, probably not.
Then I asked what we would do if someone here wanted him. She said she would take the leg off. It had suffered some nerve damage and he just kind of drug it around.
So, I agreed to take him and we did the surgery today.
Everything went good at the start. We got the leg off, put the muscles back together, and closed the skin. We had him on the O2 until he looked like he was pink and breathing on his own.
I picked him up and moved him into ICU. I carried him and his IV pump (we had him on a morphine/ketamine drip) and got him settled in. I was gonna stand there and watch him. So, I was petting and loving on him. I've gotten really attached to "Lefty". I looked out at the treatment area for two seconds, I look back at Lefty and he's blue.
I grab him and the pump and run back to surgery. I get him back on O2 and start breathing for him. Dr. M comes in and says she can hear a heartbeat, but it's faint. We give him a triple dose of epinepherine and keep breathing for him. This goes on for about half an hour and he starts breathing on his own. I cried. He was back.
He's woozy...and blind. When a cat crashes, they can loose their vision for about forty-eight hours. Dr. M is taking him home tonight to keep him on fluids and to keep an eye on him.
Keep your fingers crossed for little Lefty. Life's been hard on him so far....

This post is a bit of a rant....consider yourself warned....

2008-10-06T21:31:09Z

This post isn't really about any one thing...kind of just a bunch of shit that's been bouncing around in my head lately....

So, for those of you who don't know, I hurt myself kinda-sorta-maybe-squint-your-eyes-and-tilt-your-head seriously at work Friday night. I was flipping a dog onto it's side to trim it's nails (it had become a matter of principle, and anyone who knows me will tell you that once I consider something a matter of principle, I get hurt). I've done this hundreds of times on dogs, I do it all the time with my three hundred pound sheep, and this was like a forty pound dog. Should not have been a problem. As I pulled his legs out from under him, something popped in my left side. It hurt like a son of a bitch. I just gritted my teeth and finished what I was doing. I figured I'd be fine, but the girl who was helping me told the doctors to come look at me. I was leaning against the wall catching my breath when Dr. Martinez came in and freaked out. She said I was white a sheet. She then became convinced I had a hernia. I had to fill out like a million forms and then she asked if I had anyone that could take me to the ER. I informed her that I had a friend who could take me when she got off work at midnight. Dr. Martinez said that was too long, so she took me. She's so sweet....She kept me company while they x-rayed me and poked me and told me that.....I had torn a muscle and dislocated my floating rib. That sounds fun, huh? Karen giggled and told me that I should tell people I fell through a hole....

So they've got me on heavy duty muscle relaxers and pain pills that aren't even worth my time....

I was registering to vote today and I realized I don't know who to vote for....I don't like McCain because I'm just not comfortable entrusting the leadership of the free world to a man who can't use one arm and spent almost ten years in a hole....

On the other hand, Obama talks about "Change"....what kind of change exactly?? The Nazis promised change too....

South Park was right...your choices are always between a deuche bag and turd sandwich....

Long....Ass...Update....

2008-09-30T20:59:42Z

So, my schedule has become seriously fucked up. I worked about 60 hours at the clinic and about 20 hrs at Sara's. Jesus H. Christ....I've barely had time to sleep. I begged off at the shop last night because I was so exausted, I was shaking and crying. So...that sucked...

Went and saw RENT on Sunday with Karen, her friend Jackie, and my friend from the shop Alyssa. It was odd...I didn't really get upset on the day it actually closed, but seeing it again and knowing that was the end really hit home to me. I cried like a bitch with a scraped knee. I was sobbing...I know it was just a show, but it was, and is, so much a part of who I am...

Cliff moved part of his stuff down a couple of weeks ago. I had to find space in my room for a bookcase, a huge stack of Guitar World mags, and about a billion dvd's...The good news is that he'll be down here as soon as he can get a job.

Strange cases at work: The little dog that we brought back the other day died on the way to the emergency clinic. Then, on Saturday, we had a buldog come in that the owners claimed to have found passed out in the backyard. It's temperature was around 108 (normal is 99-102) and they told us that he'd been having seizures for about six months. He'd been having about one a month, but about the day before, he'd had four in a row. The owner had looked online and read that seizures were'nt fatal. And, technically, he's right. The problem is, the SEIZURE isn't fatal...but the brain damage could be. He'd fried the control center in his brain that reguates temperature, breathing, heart rate, basic life forces like that. He died about six hours after he left our clinic. One more and then I'll stop. Someone found his pitbull on the side of the road and he'd apparently been hit by a car. They told us that money didn't matter, do what we had to do to fix him. So we took x-rays and discovered that he'd fractured his spine in two places. We send them to the neurology clinic and they ended up having to euthanize him. They discovered some major head trauma that we couldn't find. So, all in all, a fun week at work.

I've gotten to be friends with the new doctor though. So that's good....

Well, I'm still shaky tired....off to nap-land...