Gas prices...

Here ya go...
Thou shalt not whine in the event that you CHOOSE to purchase a GAS GUZZLING SUV when gas prices are over three dollars a GALLON!
I don't want to hear bragging about how awesome the vehicle is, or what a great deal the vehicle was, or what amenities it comes with, followed by counting change to buy gas. I don't even care about the selectable warming/cooling cupholders, mega-changer cd-player, or how you can fit your two dogs, kids, and fiancee. By and large, you intentionally inflicted this gas pig on yourself. WHY? BECAUSE you wanted it. Therefore, don't complain about your gas bill after trading a compact, foreign, 40-45 mpg vehicle for an 18 mpg vehicle, and expect me not to brag about the 530 miles I just got on 11.7 gallons of gas. Read it and weep people. My car gets 45 mpg.
And it's 5 years old.
And has 115k on it.
And NO. YOU CAN'T HAVE IT.
MINE.

Clean your ears out people

Ok, so here's the latest...
An old lady calls, and asks if a weightloss center does testing forDementia, a crippling disease of the elderly.
The secretary informs the poor soul, "I'm sorry, this is a bariatric surgery, not geriatric surgery. "
No, this is true.
You can't make this up!

Mayonnaise

One would think, by the title, that "mayonnaise" is a condiment, used for salads, on burgers, in sandwiches, etc...
As defined by the Blue Collar Comedy Tour, it's an exclamation: "Mayonnaise alot of people in here..."
My story stems from the former.
To start, all of the condiments in the cafeteria are kept in the open, and not refridgerated. The mooseturd, the catspuke, the man-on-knees, all with enough preservatives to keep George Burns alive for a few more years.
My esteemed co-worker, Ditzy Twitsy, marched into our office, opens the refridgerator (it's a small dorm size refrigerator, that she used to store her orchid in. for two weeks. Upon it being opened, and a horrific, horrendous, ER Nurse-dropping odor eminated from the bowels of the refrigerator, was scoured) that is shared by our two offices, and peers thoughtfully into it, and says, "Do you guys have any mayonnaise?" (envision demanding teenager intonation)
OS: "No."
Helpful co-worker: "Maybe there is some in the cupboard (where the disposable utensils/stylish plates) are kept."
DT: "Ew, do you think it'll be any good?"

paper cuts...

*EDIT*
I should note that this is NOT me...but one of the actresses in my office. No, I don't work in Hollywood. I don't work in a film studio. Nope. A hospital. Where I'm sure there's a stash of "adhesive bandages" somewhere...
maybe we should let a raccoon loose in here.
To quote Stewie from the "Family Guy" "It's EVERYWHERE! It's in my RACCOON WOUNDS!"
Oh dear...
we have paper cuts.
Not just a "whoops, I sliced my finger"
NOoooooooooooooooooo
it's a theatrical production, and she's in line for the Grammy for most imbellishment placed on a paper cut.
and the (sharp intake of breath to make it sound really bad...)*very loudly* OHMIGOD, I have a PAPERCUT! And it's BLEEDING ALL OVER EVERYTHING!"
Keep in mind, her desk is MAYBE 4 feet from the closet
Where the "adhesive bandages" are kept.
For such a purpose...

News update

So for those of you who don't know...
My computer died
We had a fire and were kind of like, homeless for a while, and we moved all of our shtuff out, and then back.....
My computer is still not fixed, though it's in the process.
I forgot my password and sign in name....not like it was the highest thing on my priority list.
Spring sprung then got squashed by mother nature...she didn't get the memo about the calendar being APRIL and decided to send us some winter weather. Again.
So in the mean time, Suffice to say that I haven't been sent on any nefarious biddings to any far off places.

And to continue

Now that I can get to the meat and potatoes of the blog...
My Job:
I am a Trauma Registrar. No, that doesn't mean I stand by the bedside every time a trauma patient comes through the door. No, That's what the Trauma Nurse 1 and 2, Radiology Tech, ED Doc, and Trauma Surgeon do to blurt out stuff to the Recorder standing over in the corner taking mad notes on a piece of paper that is, of course, 4 copies thick.
I get the piece of paper.
Which is the bottom copy.
Which, a lot of times, are very difficult to read; for a multitude of reasons ranging from:
Poor Penmanship
Not pressing down hard enough
Foreign language (this does not include chicken scratch)
Or, forgetting to turn 'dem pesky hearin' aides.
Nothing glamourous, nothing mysterious.
Ultimately, the information about the accident and ensuing injuries that were sustained, that I extract from the patient record, gets sent to a national database where it's analyzed by highly trained professionals with math degrees to find out what percentage of what age range and what population are sustaining which injuries so they can tell other people what NOT to do so they don't get hurt. Confused?
Good.
So my boss has an office connected to mine (I have like an "anteroom" office)
Batt in the comp is dying...time to shut down...more to follow

ah, and from the beginning

So...where to begin...
Well, I work at a hospital
In an office
Which may seem relatively normal to most.
And, given my education and training, would lend itself to being sort of predictable.
I graduated from high school, and then college (while working in retail, a costume shop, camp counselor, middle school doing tutoring, and living on a farm). While in college(for community health), I took an EMT course, and given my familial history (my mother wore a uniform and army boots to work at an ambulance service) it seemed kind of a natural progression. Well, I also decided that I was going to attempt to go to college, for round two. I was going to go for my bachelors degree in nursing. And I decided that I could work 40-60 hours a week while trying to go for my bachelors degree. Well, why not? I worked like 40 hours a week while getting my first one, it should have been fine! Especially in EMS...I could go to school, and do homework while I was at work, cuz everyone knows that EMS stands for Earn Money Sleeping. Life was PERFECT!
HAHAHA...
so, that didn't work...
My grades stunk, i was pooped all the time, and I had a record of staying up for 41 hours, straight, before collapsing into a pile of drool on my computer.
So I decided that I needed to work more than I needed to go to school.
And this really intriguing guy started to work at my job. He was anEMT- intermediate. And seemed like he was pretty cool. We talked, exchanged phone numbers, and had some interesting conversations about family, society, work and education, but nothing that ever would suggest a romantic relationship.
He called me up one night and asked me to share a bottle of wine. I never did drink very much alcohol, and I wanted to spend an evening with a cool guy, have some alcohol, and stay in a safe place. I'd talked to him, I knew him, so I didn't think anything would happen. My naive little self talking...
I got drunk *very very*
Things happened that should NOT have happened, that had some questionable legality to them, but hey, he was a co-worker, an EMT, someone who served the community, so what happened, it was MY fault...I got drunk, i should have been more forceful when i said no, i should have...made different choices...It was my fault
So I retreated into my own little world.
Though, that didn't work either.
So eventually, i kind of spiraled down into my own dark hell
And didn't know how to find my way out.
So I decided to leave my job in the city and the country as an EMT
For a job in the woods. Working with troubled, hormonal teenage females. Taking them hiking and canoeing and camping. It was the 'perfect' job!
HAHAHAHA.
dream on.
If the kids had actually WANTED to be there, it would be one thing
They had no desire to be there
and they tried to run away
and fight each other
and escape on their way to the OUTHOUSE
and it was over 3/4 of a mile to the nearest phone...It wasn't like we were in the city.
We were an hour from the closest walmart
5 miles in on a dirt road
Do you get the picture?
So I decided that wasn't the way to go. And I had heard about the Intermediate class that was being offered by one of my EMS employers. I was bored as an EMT-B.
Mostly through my intermediate class, I was terminated from one of my jobs...that was a bit of a problem. So I went back to work cor the same company that the less-than-desirable co-worker worked for. But it was a job. And he'd left. So it was fine!
And then he decided to come back
And I couldn't handle it
SO I talked to my boss and told him what happened, and i was told "well, we can't do anything because there is no police report".
So I went through the whole legal riddle...Come to find out that there was nothing that could be done.
And then my boss made me get a protection order.
And I applied for a job at a hospital that was closer to home, and paid better, and was more brain work.
And I had an arguement with a supervisor
And I met Dustin
And I had an interview
And got the job at the hospital that was closer to home, and paid better, and was more reliable.
And that's kind of the beginning...