Big Hair Dilemma

A few years back, Mr. Misha and I were invited to a "Dick Van Dyke" themed birthday party. I spent about 3 hours in my hair stylist's chair trying to get my very thick hair into a bouffant hairdo. In order to get that little pouf in the back, she took a big hunk of my hair, ratted it up, shellacked it with hair spray, rolled it into a ball and then flopped the rest of my hair over the top of it. The final result was this:



Not bad, but not as high as I had hoped. My hair is just so heavy and there is just so much of it, I thought I would never be able to get that bump in the back! But the other night I saw this advertisement:

What a great idea! Instead of ratting up, one third of my hair and pasting to my skull, I can buy this doohickey! Now I just need to be invited to another theme party and I will be good to go.

Why We Are Better Talking In The Abstract

When I was little and asked the question that all parents dread, "Where do babies come from?” My mom told me "A boy gives a girl a seed and it grows in her tummy into a baby." That Christmas, I refused to kiss any of my male relatives for fear that one of them would burp a baby seed into my mouth and impregnate me.

A few years later, I saw my dog, Poco, giving the neighbor's dog, Pepper, a 'piggyback ride'. A few months later, Pepper had puppies and my Mom told me it was because of the piggyback ride. So, of course, I refused to give or receive piggyback rides after that.

To avoid another litter of puppies, my mom took Poco to the vet to have him neutered. She explained to me the vet was going to 'cut his balls off' so he won't make babies anymore. She called it 'getting him fixed'. I didn't question her and she didn't offer any more information, end of discussion.

Around that same time, my mom started experiencing 'womanly problems'. She went to see her 'woman doctor' and he told her she needed to have a hysterectomy. About a week before my mom went into the hospital, my mom sat me down and said, "You know Mommy has been having womanly problems, right?" I nodded. "Well, the doctor wants to remove the parts that are giving me problems so I will feel better. But that means I won't have my period anymore and I won't be able to have babies. Do you understand?" I said, "Oh, you are getting fixed liked Poco!"

I think since the first three attempts at talking to me about the birds and the bees had not turned out they way she expected, my mom just gave up. We never talked about sex in anything other than the abstract for the next 30 years.

I Had No Idea What I Was Going To Write About

So I called my mom. She is usually good for a post or two or three. But I think she had a few too many vodka tonics in her and the conversation was slurred and was mostly about her dogs and what she bought on her latest trip to Costco.

As she rambled on and on about Splenda, meatloaf and the Jack Russel's dingleberrys, I checked my email, cruised around Facebook and took pictures of my dogs sleeping on the bed. She figured out I wasn't really paying attention, so she started asking me questions.

Mom: "I have two bags of Splenda do you want one of them?"

Me: "Sure. I'll take one of them."

Mom: "I have a bunch of coupons you might want."

Me: "Like what"

Mom:” I have one for that 'Yours and Mine' stuff."

Me: "What?"

Mom: "You know, the stuff you use if you want to get intimate. You use it-"

Me: "STOP! Just stop talking. We are done. I am not talking to you about this. I am done. Good night Mom."

And I hung up. She had never given me "the talk" when I was younger. I certainly wasn't going to have it with her when I was 40 and married.

SHEESH.

Two Nurses Talking Inappropriately About Current Events*

A: Dude, did you hear about all the injuries that woman had who got attacked by the chimpanzee?

Me: Yeah, dude, that was gnarly. She lost both eyes, her nose, her bottom jaw. Yuck.

A: Her hands too! Both of her hands. It pulled off both of her hands!

Me: Really?

A: Yeah. Have you ever seen the show " Escape To Chimp Eden"?

Me: No.

A: Well, there is this really hot South African dude who runs this place with all these chimps and he was talking about how vicious chimps can get. He says the first thing they do is go for your nards!

Me: My nards? Ouch. That would be tough, since, you know, my nards are like on the inside and attached to my fallopian tubes and shit.

A: No shit. So, yeah, like they pin you down with their feet, because they have feet that are like hands, so they can hold your ass down, grab your nards and incapacitate you. THEN they start yanking out your eyes and ripping off your face and shit.

Me: Oh man, that is so gross and evil. Who knew Curious George was such a wicked fucker?

A: I know. Did you hear the tape of the woman making the call? She kept screaming, "He's ripping her face off! Shoot him! Shoot him!"

Me: That was awful. But I just want this on the record, if we are ever together and a wicked fucking chimpanzee is attacking me and he has pulled my nards out and ripped off part of my face. Go ahead and call the cops, but don't tell them to shoot the chimp, TELL THEM TO SHOOT ME!

A: Yeah, me too. That is some fucked up shit. No nards, no eyes, no nose, no hands. Shoot me too. I am never going to the zoo again.


Please don't think that our conversation means that we are making light of the horrific ordeal the victim and her family is going through. Our hearts and well wishes go out to them. In our defense:

• Nurses see a lot of sick and horrible stuff. We tend to deal with it by using gallows humor.

• A has a back injury from work and I have a neck/shoulder injury from work and we were both on some really fun painkillers at the time of our conversation.

• It was educational; I did not know that chimps went for the nards first!

• Plus, I now have another scenario to add to my Advanced Directive For Healthcare

Ode To Mr. Misha

Why does Mr. Misha rock harder than Bon Jovi you ask?

He makes me laugh so hard that my cheeks and stomach hurt the next day.

The whole " rat in the house" incident.

When he wakes me up for work, he does it with "MY" Starbucks drink in his hand.

He purposely doesn't fart in front of me (he has farted in his sleep, but was completely apologetic/embarrassed about it).

His family is so nice, you don't say fuck in front of them. My family is so screwed up, that you have to say fuck in front of them. He loves that about my family.

He lets me pimp him out for my friends computer problems and never complains.

He didn't stare at my boobs on our first date.
If it is really busy at the hospital and none of the nurses have time to eat, I can call him at anytime in the middle of the night.....and he will go buy food for the WHOLE department.

He went to a sushi restaurant (he hates sushi) and bought food for my patient whose baby just died.

He built me a computer and gave it to me on our second date.

He likes a woman who can burp, LOUD!

He head-butted my Uncle John at our wedding to keep him from fighting with my Cousin Larry and it worked, Uncle John just laughed.

He loves kids and dogs, but is not fond of cats. Which works out great since I am deathly allergic to cats.

He composes and sings the best songs to our dogs, my mom, our friend's children and me, all of the time and on the spur of the moment!

He doted on our 86 year old neighbor, Babe. She had a crush on him and even smacked him on the ass from time to time!

He tolerates my self-diagnosed OCD.

He compliments my cooking.

His "Fanta" dance.

I once had a patient who said she did "an 8 ball a day", I had NO IDEA what that meant. So, I called him......he told me how much that weighed and about how much it would cost.

He has taken really good care of me since I was injured last April.

When he noticed that the pain medication was making it unsafe for me to walk to the kitchen safely, he gave me a tambourine to shake when I wanted something to eat or drink.

Ash And You Shall Receive

I was raised Catholic and I work at a Catholic hospital. I was working one Ash Wednesday and a Priest came by the unit and offered to anoint the staff with ashes. While I am not what you would call an observant Catholic, I decided to play along and got in line behind my co-workers. I waited patiently as each one of the nurses got a small smudge of ashes applied to their forehead, much like our Vice President, Joe Biden received today. When it was my turn, I stepped forward to get my mark and I noticed a little twinkle in the Priest's eye. I didn't get a little smudge. He took the mixture of oil and ash, smeared it from one eyebrow to the other and from my widow's peak to the bridge of my nose! I had a HUGE PLUS SIGN IN THE MIDDLE OF MY FOREHEAD. I didn't realize what he had done as I walked away. Sure, my co-workers were giggling, but we are an immature lot.

It wasn't until I walked back into my patient's room and her whole family started to snicker that I realized something was up. My patient told me to go look in the mirror. I looked. I blushed. I came back out to the patient's bedside. My patient's mother said something in Spanish and smiled. My patient chided her mother and then said to me, "My mother said the Priest, he must have know you needed some extra!"

I won't be getting ashes today.

I Caught The Stupid.

Ever have one of those days where you have to remind yourself that you are not stupid? Where you have to constantly reaffirm in your head, "I am an intelligent person"? The kind of day that no matter how much you (or others) tell you that you are smart and capable, your actions prove you (them) wrong? Saturday was one of those days. I woke up before the alarm. I ate a little breakfast; I fed the pooches, cleared out some emails, played around on Facebook and Twitter and did two loads of laundry. All of this before 8am! Not 8pm, EIGHT AYEM.

Then I decided to get dressed and clean out my car. You see, Mr. Misha has been using my car occasionally, so it has become quite messy/dirty. He can't help it. If you were to strip Mr. Misha naked and stick him in an empty room and lock him up in there for 12 hours, when you came back you would find: crumpled burger wrappers, diet Pepsi® cans filled with cigarette butts (and possibly urine), empty pizza boxes, cigarette ashes, crumbs, dirty laundry (especially funky smelling socks), computer screws, every kind of electrical and computer cable you can think of, taco wrappers, No Carb Rock Star® cans, pumpkin seeds, compact and digital video discs and some pieces of RAM strew across the room. MR. MISHA SWEATS GARBAGE!

So I armed myself with a roll of paper towels, a toothbrush, some toothpicks, a couple of garbage bags, and bottles of Windex®, Armor All® and Febreze®. First I cleared out all of the clutter. Then I cleaned the leather, pleather, vinyl and plastic areas with Armor All®. I estimate that my spouse has spilled at least 5 different drinks since we got the car last year. Then I started with the windows. I cleaned the passenger's side front window just fine, but when I tried to do the driver's side, my boobs kept honking the horn. No matter how close I moved to the window, I could not prevent my hooters from honking the horn.

It was during this big clean out that I realized that I had been driving around without a copy of my registration or proof of insurance in my car. I trudged back into the house in search of the paperwork. I placed them by the door to make sure that I would not forget them when I left the house.

I made some coffee, talked with my friend Jessie and made arrangements to go to her apartment that night. The plan was for me to leave Napa at 2:30pm. At 2:31 pm, I loaded up the car and headed out. I stopped off to get some cash and grab a coffee. For some reason, the ATM would not accept my PIN number. After inputting it 3 times, the machine locked me out. I figured I would call my bank from the road and straighten it out. I went into the store and my card was declined for my purchase. Annoyed, I went out to the car and called my bank. Twenty minutes later, my card was reactivated, my PIN changed and cash and coffee in hand. I started to head out of town.

I had barely made it out the valley when I watched a CHP pull over a car. My stomach dropped. I had left my registration and proof of insurance at the house. CRAP! I turned around and retrieved them. While walking back to the car I noticed that my tags expired in January. FUCK!

That is when I realized I had caught The Stupid.

Happiness Is A Warm Puppy

I had to take my final, and much dreaded, computer class yesterday. I showed up with a big headache and a bad attitude. I was pleasantly surprised when I found this handsome young man dozing in my instructor’s office.


Meet Tanner.


Tanner is a puppy in training for the Canine Companions for Independence. A while back, one of my co-workers became a foster parent for CCI. She brought Brindy to work with her. It was always nice to come to work and see her sweet face. Later, Brindy became breeding female for CCI and started having puppies. Tanner is from one of her litters.


I am not sure how much longer Tanner will be coming to work, but it sure was a nice surprise! Nothing is better than an adorable puppy to lift the spirits.

Blog For Choice 2009

For the past three years, pro-choice bloggers have come together on January 22 - the anniversary of Roe v. Wade - to write about our reproductive health and our pro-choice values in order to celebrate Roe and to keep choice in the national spotlight. This year, NARAL Pro Choice America is asking people to blog their answer to this question:




What is your top pro-choice hope for President Obama and/or the new Congress?

There is a lot to tackle after 8 years with an Anti-choice administration. It is hard to pick just one, so I have picked three. I want the repeal the “Right of Conscience” rule. I want the “Global Gag Rule” (aka Mexico City Policy) to be abolished. I want evidenced-based sex education to be taught to our teens.
Right Of Conscience Rule

Issued by George W. Bush on December 17, 2008, the ‘right of conscience’ rule is a regulation that ‘protects’ a broad range of healthcare workers - from doctors to janitors - who refuse to participate in providing services that they believe violate their personal, moral, or religious beliefs. Federal Health officials may cut off federal funding to any state or local government, hospital, clinic, health plan or doctor’s office who do not accommodate employees who exercise their “right of conscience”

It was the Bush administration’s intention to protect workers who object to abortion. The final rule was taken to the extreme (how surprising!) and affected much more than abortion providers. The rule was aimed at Doctors and Nurses, but could be construed to include anyone, even the housekeeping staff that might have to clean up after an ‘objectionable’ procedure. Workers who did not want to dispense birth control pills, Plan B pills and other forms of contraceptives are now protected under this rule. For extremists who consider most forms of contraceptives on par with abortion, this was an answer to their prayers.

Although it has not yet been tested, this rule could also ‘protect’ workers who have objections towards certain types of end of life care, providing care to unmarried couples or members of the LGBTQI community.
Global Gag Rule
This policy requires non-governmental organizations to "agree as a condition of their receipt of [U.S.] federal funds" that they will "neither perform nor actively promote abortion as a method of family planning in other nations". The policy has exceptions for abortions done in response to rape, incest, or life-threatening conditions.

This policy lead to serious loss in funding for organizations like International Planned Parenthood Federation, Family Guidance Association of Ethiopia and Planned Parenthood Association of Zambia when they refused to make changes required by the Mexico City Policy. Not only did these organizations lose much-needed funds, but also their ability to distribute birth control was hampered. It prevented their access to USAID supplied condoms and other forms of contraception. The ban promotes restrictions on Free Speech well as restrictions on accurate medical information, leading to increased number of unintended pregnancies, abortions and higher rates of STIs.

According to a 2005 press release by Population Action:

Bush's Global Gag Rule Only Making Matters Worse – New Reports, Redesigned Web Site Illustrate Effects on Women in Developing Countries April 20, 2005
Four years since the reinstatement of the Global Gag Rule by President George W. Bush on January 22, 2001, the policy continues to erode family planning and reproductive health services in developing countries, according to new case studies made available today on the Global Gag Rule Impact Project’s Web site.
Key Findings Include:
* In addition to severe financial losses, the gag rule has resulted in the loss of technical assistance and contraceptive donations to key nongovernmental organizations in Ethiopia, worsening the country’s supply shortage.
* By preventing regional partnerships, the gag rule is crippling efforts in Ghana to address reproductive health and HIV/AIDS in a coordinated and effective manner.
* Nongovernmental organizations in Tanzania are struggling to sustain current levels of service since refusing to accept the terms of the gag rule; meanwhile, demand for supplies and services are ever increasing.

Evidence-based Sex Education
Teaching kids evidenced-based sex education will not make them sexually active. Educating teens about preventing pregnancy, limiting or preventing their exposure to sexually transmitted infections and the emotional impact of sexual activity will help keep them safe if they choose to become sexually active. One only needs to peruse the newspaper to see that Abstinence-only sex ed and virginity pledges don't work.
Trends Shift, With Births on the Rise
Teen Birth Rates Up in 26 States

Many Teens Don't Keep Virginity Pledges
Schools Need Programs Proven To Delay Teen Sex And Make It Safer --- Abstinence-only Isn't One Of Them

I hope President Obama will hear the pleas of many and undo the damage done by 8 years with a President who actively worked to outlaw abortion, severely restrict access to birth control and deny our children comprehensive sex education.

What's Up Her Ass?

This week my Nana would have celebrated her 86th birthday.  

When she was 71, she moved in with her nephew, Larry and his wife, Elsie, in Tampa, Florida. They spoiled her rotten. She literally had her own "wing" of the house, which was set right on Tampa Bay. They gave her a Jaguar to drive. She had an allowance. She had the best medical care she had ever had in her entire life. They bought her a laptop and had someone come to the house to teach her how to surf the net and use email. She was having a blast.

Larry and Elsie wouldn't let Nana do anything. They had a maid; they had a gardener, a pool guy, and a dog walker/groomer. They sent their laundry out and had their groceries delivered. Nana couldn't stand it! She finally convinced Larry and Elsie to let her do a few things around the house. She was allowed to do some "light" grocery shopping and a "little" laundry.

On day, Nana was washing her and Elsie's "delicates". She hadn't really paid much attention to them when they went into the washer but when they came out, she noticed something "funny" about some of Elsie's underwear. When Elsie came home from work, Nana asked her what kind of underwear they were.

Elsie calmly replied; "Aunt Ferne, those are thong underwear."

Nana raised her eyebrows and said; "What are thongs?"

Elsie explained the engineering of the thong panty as well as it's benefits; "They are great. You don't have a panty line when you wear slacks or skirts! You don't have to wear pantyhose and that is really nice in this Florida humidity."

Nana thought about it for a minutes and said; "Well, I guess that makes sense. I have been pulling my panties out of my ass for 70 years. Now I can just wear ones that are meant to be there and keep cool in the process!"

The next day, Elsie went to one of the posh shops in Tampa and bought Nana a few pair of designer thong underwear.

From then on, Nana wore her thong panties to Mass every Sunday.