She's playing my song...

which I can't get out of my head today. Because I'm ALL about that bass (no treble).

In other news, I'm gearing up for the semester (my LAST, w00t!). Which involves fretting and stressing out about stuff I probably shouldn't be worrying about. Plus, I'm busy getting one child settled at a nearby university and finding her a place to live, and helping her twin with the enlistment process, which seems to take A. LONG. TIME.

I'm still waiting to hear from my preceptor, which probably is the biggest source of my anxiety. I can't give my work and volunteer organization my availability, and it's only a few weeks away, dammit! Hello, Preceptor...email me, willya? Please? Who knows, I might be doing night shifts this semester!

So, anyway, that's all that's been going on here with me. Nothing much, basically. I'll keep you posted.

Sporadically. :D

Unusual Compliment

Here's one I've never heard before, that I got from a client the other day:

"You're awakening my soul!"

Allrighty then...I'll take that.

Rude!

We were sitting in a restaurant celebrating SCI-FI's birthday the other day, and I noticed a couple at a nearby table who appeared to be on a romantic-type date. There was some snuggling before the male half of the couple moved to the other side of the table, lots of intimate looks and smiles, but what stood out the most to me is the smart phone resting on the woman's lap. Even while eating she'd glance down at it and even text occasionally (or type, who knows?).

Is this acceptable behavior now? I found it incredibly tacky and rude. My daughter Chaos played devil's advocate and reasonably pointed out that perhaps the lady had something urgent going on at work and needed to keep working on it through dinner.

Hmph. Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but I think it's wrong to focus so much of one's attention on a digital device while out on a date. Put it in your purse or pocket, in silent mode or off.

YAY!

I have a child (Hi, TalliahAngel!!) who is in the process of enlisting in the US Air Force.

She took her ASVAB today (Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery) and scored 94!!
I'm so proud of her!

Now it looks like she's set to take the DLAB (Defense Language Aptitude Battery) next week, which is the next step in becoming a Cryptologic Linguist...like mother (and father), like daughter!

Proud mother is proud.

Identical Twin Humor

As a mother of (identical) twins, I've had to learn to tolerate the sometimes inexplicable humor my girls share.

Take yesterday, for example. We're driving down the highway, and one twin (who is wearing the same hair accessory and (almost) identical glasses as the other, which is NOT a common occurrence) says to her sister,
"You're so DUMB. Look at your dumb BOW, and your dumb GLASSES, and your dumb FACE!"

Immediately her sister ripostes, "No, YOU'RE so dumb! Look at YOUR dumb bow, and YOUR dumb glasses, and YOUR dumb face!"

Cue uproarious laughter from the girls, but not from me. I'm too busy trying not to crash the car as I simultaneously facepalm and roll my eyes.

Oh and the most inexplicable thing about all this is that my twins turn 21 this year...and they're STILL making jokes like this (and finding them funny!)

Quote of the Day

My daughter Chaos, outraged upon hearing that there's no McDonald's in Terminal 7 of LAX:


How can there be no McDonald's?! This is the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave!!!


Welcome home, Honey! 


 

For some reason...

I get a kick out of my two pups simultaneously lifting a leg on opposite sides of a tree/post/hydrant. Anytime this happens, I admonish them with

Don't cross the streams!!

I'm VERY easily amused.

To all the good ones out there...

Hopefully you know who you are and are valued!

Happy Fathers' Day!!!!

Quote of the Day

"Starbucks coffee tastes like heartburn. Or dragon piss. And Starbucks espresso tastes like vodka plus heartburn."

Missed the date...

Looking at the calendar, I realize that a few days ago was the 12th anniversary of the date my divorce was final. Now I've been divorced the same length of time I was married.

Make of that what you will, I suppose.

So...

I now have this fairly cushy spa gig, where I'm the only massage therapist on duty during my particular shift. It's a really nice spa which mainly focuses on skin care, so massage is almost an afterthought, but I'm working really hard to shift that perception, one massage and client at a time. ;)

So far it's not been very taxing, except for my first day where I subbed for the call-out and got thrown in with no prep. Business has been slow and I don't mind.

What gets me is my volunteer work.

Two hours a week I go into Boston and massage people from a pretty marginalized population. I'm sorry I'm being so vague, but I really can't go into detail without potentially giving away the organization I volunteer for, which defeats the purpose of this whole "anonymous blogging" gig, not to mention it risks violating my clients' privacy.

Physically the work is generally very easy, I've only had a couple of clients who've wanted deep tissue massage, but emotionally...it's been harrowing.

I've had clients experience emotional breakdowns during the massage session, sobbing and covering their faces. I've had clients relate traumatic events to me. I had a client tell me that he feels more comfortable talking to me than his therapist.

Touch is a powerful force, and I will never abuse it. And as difficult as these sessions might be for me, my clients are the ones who have lived through experiences I hope I never will, and are dealing daily with problems I can only view from the outside, for which I'm truly grateful.

All I can do is give them the best massage I possibly can, listen empathetically, and offer tissues, not platitudes. Hopefully that's enough.

FINALLY Part II

My grades for this semester FINALLY posted...

Yay, straight A's! I've not managed that in a couple semesters now, so it's about frickin' time.

I'm so happy. Now it's time to relax a bit. Headed to the movies soon for (possibly) a double feature, definitely Amazing Spiderman 2, possibly Godzilla, and who knows? I really want to see X-Men: Days of Future Past, too...

Memorial Day

Thank you for your sacrifice. I hope we who were left behind prove worthy of it.

 

FINALLY!

Last final completed, last major project plus paper finished and turned in (attheverylastminute!).

I am exhausted but yet I FEEL FANTASTIC! Summer, here I come!

And you know...next semester is my LAST semester in nursing school, w00t! Can't wait to be completely done.

When squirrels attack!

We live on an acre of land, and the neighbors have about the same size lot. There's no fence, and they don't care if my dogs are roaming around over there because 1. my dogs ignore the chickens and 2. more poop=more fertilizer.

After the incident of Tucker getting tagged by a car while attempting to get into a garbage bag left by the side of the road, I've been much more diligent about always going out with the dogs and keeping them within sight while they're doing their business (which includes scrounging under the neighbor's rabbit hutches for dropped food).

This morning, while half awake, I was standing in my jammies in the shade of a tree while observing my pups water the flowers (so to speak), when suddenly I was nearly beaned in the head by a bagel.

Yes, a bagel. From the sky.

As I stood there stupidly gazing at the bagel lying innocently in the grass, my sleepy brain trying to process it, I heard a rustling up in the tree and quickly looked up to spy an EVIL SQUIRREL looking back at me with its beady black eyes.

"Ah HAH," I triumphantly crowed. "Behold the villain of the piece!"

Now the question is: Did the squirrel really try to hit me in the head with the bagel? Or was it trying to appease the canine brute squad by tossing the bread down to them in the hopes that it itself would be ignored ("Please, for the love of all that's holy, TAKE THE BAGEL BUT SPARE ME! I have kits in the nest that need me!").
 There is some truth to this, because my dogs did run over immediately after they literally saw manna fall from heaven, and only my sharply-spoken "Leave it!" deterred them from starting to nosh.

Of course, the most mundane explanation is that the squirrel merely lost control of the too-big-for-it-to-carry-easily food item, and the timing is just coincidence...but considering the look we exchanged as we made eye contact...

I THINK NOT!

Gonna have to wear a hard hat when walking the dogs now.

Serendipity

So, I quit my job at the spa effective March 1st, thinking that it was really time for me to find a job in a hospital, like a tech or aide position. Since then, I've been volunteering my massage services weekly, which is very rewarding in every way but one, the one needed to pay my bills!

I've applied for seven different positions at five different hospitals, and have yet to hear back from a single HR department, and when I call, I'm told the "application process takes time," and many variations of "don't call us, we'll call you."

Swell, thanks.

A couple days ago, TallyAngel and I were running errands in the neighborhood, one of which was her getting her hair cut. Her preferred salon is right next to a fairly upscale day spa, and loth to sit around and wait, I wandered next door with my Starbucks venti cup in hand, wearing jeans and a t-shirt and ratty sneakers, just to see what's what.

The lady behind the counter turned out to be the spa manager, and I casually asked her if she was hiring massage therapists. Her face lit up as she exclaimed, "Yes! What's your availability? I'm assuming you're state licensed? Can you email me your resume?"

I walked out after having had a tour of the spa, questions about commission, hours, and the like answered, and setting up a practical  (like an audition) for the next day.

Yesterday, I showed up and wowed her with my amazing massage skillz and magic fingers (and elbows!), and after speaking for a bit with the Vice President of the company (who told me that my resume was *ahem* "impressive"), I was offered a position.

I go in in an hour to fill out all the boring forms and make copies of my various certificates and licenses, then I start next week!

Serendipity-doo-dah, Bitches! Woo-hoo!
 _________________________________________________________________________________
Update:

Serendipity strikes AGAIN!

Exactly 23 minutes after this post went live, while I was in the middle of eating breakfast, my phone rang. It was the manager of the spa, and she was frantic: the sole massage therapist working Saturdays had called in sick, and would I be willing to jump in and cover her shift? With the first massage starting at 9:15?

If it involves making some much-needed moolah, then count me in!

So I came, I massaged, and I conquered. $90 in cash tips later, plus 39% commission, plus whatever credit card tip the one client left me...yeah, I'd say it was a good move to "help out". LOL...

The icing on the cake? Right before I left for the day, while I was finally filling out that boring paperwork, the manager mentioned that this was the second time in six weeks the Saturday therapist had called in sick, leaving the spa with no massage coverage. Then she said that if I wanted Saturdays, too, that shift was mine...

I'm feeling pretty good right now. Exhausted, but good!

Dream/Nightmare

I had a dream about a week ago. It starred Old NFO as a sooper seekrit spy type dude. There were all these covert operations and James Bond-type shenanigans, then he had a new assignment which required him to team up with another agent who had to pretend to be his wife...

Old NFO, you were "married" to my classmate Damarys, who's 25, from the Dominican Republic, and smoking hot. You're welcome. ;)

My nightmare was last night. Ugh.

I was lucky enough this semester to have my pediatric clinical rotation be over half-way through the semester, as we doubled up on our clinical hours every week to free up the clinical site for the next group of students. So my last Monday clinical was on March 24th. Except when I dream.

I dreamed that I woke up in a patient's room in my jammies, on a Monday morning, and it was apparently my very last clinical day. The patient was a small infant lying in a crib, and the nurse was bustling around telling me to hurry up. She told me, "He needs a blood transfusion. Take care of it."
Then she walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the sick, listless infant.

I walked over to the old-fashioned refrigerator that was inexplicably inside the room. It looked much like this one, only it was pale yellow instead of green. 

                                              source

I opened the door to find bags of blood hanging inside, so I grabbed one and turned to my patient.

Luckily, even asleep, sanity prevailed and I realized, "I don't know what the fuck I'm doing! I never learned how and I need HELP!!"

That's when I woke up; it was 3:30 AM. It took me until 5 AM to calm down enough to go back to sleep.

I think it's about fucking time this semester ended. One more week of classes, one big project, a med-calc exam, and two finals, then I'll be free for the summer. It can't come soon enough to suit me!

Ah, Spring...

where the delight of finally being able to sleep with the window open again is tempered by being woken up at 4:30 AM when the REEK of skunk wafts to my nostrils...

My new theme song...

NSFW:

H/T The Lovely Jennifer

(also, this is apparently my 1,500th post...go, me!)

*tap...tap* Is this thing on?

Hi, Everyone!

Wow, it's been awhile, huh? This semester has been the second semester from hell, and honestly, I have no energy left over to post anything here. I'm lucky if I toss something onto Facebook.

*sigh*

Also, my laptop (which is almost 5 years old now) is making life difficult for me, namely by having a VERY recalcitrant "s" key. Do you know how hard it is to write English without the letter "s"?! I've gotten creative at working around the s-deficit. Using the $-sign, for one. It seems like it takes my keyboard a while to warm up or something; when I first open my laptop or turn it on, I can't type "s" at all! Any advice or suggestions?

Anyway, what else has been going on...hmmm...I quit my job at the spa almost two months ago (good riddance!). I was done with all the bullshit, I just wanted to go to work and massage people and make them feel good and make money, but there was too much incompetence, poor management, and lack of supplies AND RESPECT. And way too much drama.

It's past time for me to find a hospital job, anyway. Gotta get my foot in that door, I'm graduating in December, after all (w00t!).

Since I stopped working at the spa, I've started massaging on a volunteer basis at a Boston organization which shall remain nameless, which assists a very under-served population. I'll leave it at that. I'm having a blast and my clients are amazingly appreciative. Which *I* in turn greatly appreciate. I'll keep doing that even after I graduate and (hopefully!) start working as a nurse. I've wanted to volunteer in some capacity for quite some time and I find it hugely rewarding. 

There are other health-related things going on, which I shall perhaps in the future talk about, but right now, not so much. Except that I might have sleep apnea and I had a sleep study done. Ugh.

I'm glad that winter seems to be over (crossing fingers here). This past winter has really, really sucked. Someday I'll do travel nursing and go south for the winter, seriously.

Oh, I got inducted into Sigma Theta Tau, the international nursing honor society! That's kinda a big deal.

Otherwise, nothing much else to report. I'm in research paper/group project/presentation hell, but thankfully only have a few more weeks of the semester left. Can't wait for it to be over...

Quote of the Day

"Some people should never be parents...but Weer'd is NOT one of those people."

The possibilities for teasing are ENDLESS.

We had pediatric simlab this morning.

In the scenario where I played the patient's mother, my fellow student nurses "killed" my son.

*sob*

You realize that I will never let them forget this, right? It's far too perfect teasing material to just let it go.

10 years from now, we'll be having a reunion dinner or something, and I'll say, "Hey, remember how you two KILLED MY BABY?!"

Ah, good times...

And then there was the client...

who refused to shake my hand because of "allergies"...

I wonder if he got the memo that massage involves my touching his skin (almost) everywhere, including his hands, with MY hands.

People are weird.

Quote of the day

"I put tape over my webcam because I don't want the NSA watching me get dressed."

I guess I'm better with kids than I thought.

I took care of a 3-year-old this past week. He was in for asthma exacerbation (caused by an upper respiratory infection, so of COURSE he sneezed right in my face, *sigh*).
He was feeling quite a bit better by the time I was assigned to him, so he was bouncing off the walls. His mom had a tough time keeping him under control, but I had a blast playing with him. Listening to his lungs was a different story, and I ended up resorting to bargaining with him so that I could do my assessment.

That's why on somebody's iPhone, there's a picture of me auscultating a stuffed bunny's lungs. Scary thing is, I actually HEARD something...most likely my own heartbeat through the bunny's meager chest.

Hey, whatever it takes to get the job done!

PSA

If you should find yourself in a university cafeteria around lunchtime, do yourself a favor and DON'T EAT THE LAMB VINDALOO, should it be on the menu.

You will thank me for this.

RIP, Barkley.

Loyal, steadfast, true
Furry friend, heart full of love
Rest in peace, Dear One.

Lucky baby!

Three of us would-be nurses shared a patient at clinical yesterday, and he was SO SWEET.

A two-month-old boy with RSV and pneumonia, his folks had other children plus transportation issues, so they had to leave the hospital several times during the day. Luckily, the nurse had PLENTY of help with the baby. ;)

My classmates and I took turns in the rocking chair, cuddling and bottle-feeding the sweet boy. To keep him calm and/or sleeping, and to help me stay awake, of COURSE I sang to him. Turns out I wasn't the only one!

I bet he's the only baby in the world to have German Minnelieder and folk songs, French pavanes, American movie musicals, Beethoven, and Tibetan lullabies sung to him all on the same day. Or maybe not. But either way, he's one lucky baby!

Note to self:

If you go and pick up a bunch of condoms from student health (for a safe sex presentation later in the week, I hasten to add!), and stick them in your backpack, it's probably a good idea to REMEMBER YOU PUT THEM THERE, and to REMOVE THEM BEFORE YOUR PEDIATRICS CLINICAL.

Otherwise your classmates might get a very different view of you. You know, when you pull out your stethoscope and a whole handful of condoms comes flying out everywhere.

:facepalm:

Seen outside a local business:

an electronic sign reading:

HURRY UP, SPRING!!!!!

Amen.

After...

viewing the interior of her suitcase after I finished helping her pack for her semester abroad in Australia, Chaos (my youngest-by-21-endless-agonizing-minutes) said:

"It's like a TARDIS. You pack like a BOSS!"

Indeed, as I do many things. ;)

Pediatrics...

not my cup of tea AT ALL.

I'm pretty sure I've blogged about something like this before...

but it bears repeating:

If you have your own first name as a tramp stamp, you're weird.

I say that as a weird person, but there's weird and then there's WEIRD.

The little daisies tattooed around the name were the added weirdo touch.

Apparently...

my professor attended the Wilford Brimley School for Pronunciation.

"DIABEETUS!!!!"

I'm having a hard time not laughing.

You know you probably didn't put enough effort into your assignment...

when your instructor calls it "...worse than crap."

*sigh*

Time for a do-over.

Dork

I'm a dork. Long ago I made peace with this. I'm more than okay with it, I EMBRACE it.

Yes, I'm the person who gets super excited about seeing ladybugs or baby bunnies. I can go on and on and on about my favorite book or song or movie or graphic novel or person. I get so enthusiastic about learning new things that I automatically assume everyone else MUST be just as excited about X as I am, or want to know the entire history of Y, just like I do.

I'll never be the "cool chick" at the party. Instead, I'm the goofy one who's laughing hysterically with her friends about a lame "that's what SHE said" joke.

All that being said, I still feel hurt when I think somebody is laughing at me. Normally I can shrug it off with a "whatever", since I tell myself they just don't get my awesomeness. But when three or four people burst out laughing after I leave the room, but just before the door closes, I do stop to think, "Okay, what was it I said or did that tipped the balance for them, that made them laugh AT me, not with me?"

Luckily, this doesn't happen often anymore. And even more luckily, I'm old enough now that if it does bother me, it's only briefly.

Because I AM awesome. And there are plenty of equally awesome people out there that see that, and get me. Those other people's opinions about me just don't matter.

Overheard in the Dining Room

Mrs. SciFi and I are taking turns listening to everyone's lungs, since we're all battling various and sundry respiratory infections.

Mrs. SciFi (to SciFi, her dearly beloved spouse): Do you want me to listen to you?

SciFi: Why start now?

There might have been some beating with the stethoscope, but I saw NOTHING.

OK!

Calling various in-network behavioral health providers looking for some very specific testing, only to have a receptionist say, "We only treat sex offenders here."

Ok, thanks! Moving right along...

I fantasize about this a lot.

I daydreamed during my incredibly boring Community Health Nursing orientation session.
I was thisclose to snapping because a woman with a PhD kept saying "diagnosises" (much like my Adult Health professor two semesters ago).

I wanted to jump to my feet, screaming, "ONE 'DIAGNOSIS', TWO OR MORE 'DIAGNOSES'! GET IT THE FUCK RIGHT, GODDAMMIT!" Then storm out of the room, shouting "I'm done here!" and slam the door on my way out.

Since I intend and fervently wish to graduate in December, my fantasies will have to remain safely in my head. And on this blog.

I'm BAAAAAAAACK!

And jet lag is kicking my ass.

Here's a picture from the top of Table Mountain. Enjoy.

I can't even really put into words what my trip was like, not as well as I'd like to, anyway.

I met amazing people, I saw very disturbing things, and experienced very uplifting things. I ate all kinds of different animals, and I saw baboons, ostriches, and penguins in the wild (among other animals). I found out the Cape of Good Hope is NOT the southern-most point of the African continent, i.e. NOT where the Atlantic and Indian oceans meet (who knew?). That would be Cape Agulhas.

I saw opulence and extreme poverty (on one occasion on the very same day. It was jarring.)

And I was extremely impressed by the spirit of the South African people. They were welcoming, friendly, open, and in most cases, pretty optimistic about the future. Except about the upcoming elections. The consensus is that their current president is an ass, and he's likely going to get 5 more years at the helm.

I'm really glad to be home, but I hope to go back to South Africa again, perhaps to work or study, we'll see.

More pics and posts to come.

Just a quickie...

before I leave tomorrow!

Headed to Cape Town and environs, and I'll be sure to take plenty of pictures which I'll share once I get back. I won't blog while I'm there, since I don't want to log in with my "regular" identity from an internet cafe. I'm not that trusting. Plus, I'm really not going to have much time at all.

Take care of yourselves, people! I'll see you on the other side.

My colleague Michelle is a redhead...

and when we went to the lobby of the spa to collect our clients (two best friends) for their couple's massage, Michelle's client's face lit up and she approached with her arms outstretched, shrieking,

"YAY, I GET THE GINGER!!!!!"

Some days my job is a hoot.

Almost...

only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades.

I ALMOST got straight A's this semester. I "only" got an A- in Mental Health Nursing, but whatever, I'll take it.

This was the semester from hell and I'm glad it's over.

Merry Christmas!

To all my readers out there (all eleventy-seven of you):

May you have a very merry Christmas and a happy, healthy, successful New Year!

Semester's Done!

Now I just have to wait for grades...I know I got an A in my Ethics class (by biting my tongue a LOT), but I'm not-so-patiently waiting for my Maternity, Mental Health, and International Epidemics grades. I know I got at least an A- in each class, but straight A's would be sweet. Yes, I'm THAT person.

You'd think now would be the time for me to relax, but au contraire, mon frere! I'm gearing up for the holidays, plus preparing for my epic trip to South Africa, plus I really, really need to do my continuing education units for my massage recertification, plus, plus, PLUS.

Sometimes it sucks being a grown-up.

The most awesome thing right now is that all three of my babies are here for Christmas, w00t! I've got to get a good group picture of them while they're all together...

Oh, and before I forget, this time next year I'll be  

DONE WITH MY BACHELOR'S!!!

Two more semesters of nursing school to go.

Overheard in the Car

After having to listen to screaming babies (yes, PLURAL) during our evening viewing of "Frozen" last night, we're having a discussion on baby/movie etiquette, and I mention that Silver was EASY in movies as a baby: whenever she started crying, I'd give her the boob! Chimes Silver (now 22.5) from the backseat...

"Hey, what can I say? I like my dinner WITH my movie!"

*snerk* 

Save me!

I'm studying for my Nursing Ethics final, which is online and available in two hours (I'll be taking it tomorrow morning after a good night's sleep), and I came across this gem in my textbook:

Earth health and human health are intricately interconnected, and nurses need to include ethical considerations of our relationship with Earth into nursing practice. Twenty-first century health care needs and issues require global consciousness.

I guess I need to go sky-clad and and consult with Gaia before I give someone some Tylenol or insulin.
(Oh, SHIT...that was culturally insensitive!)

Quote of the Day

"THAT'S what this game needs...this game needs BACON!"

My babies.

Twenty years ago today, I waddled into Tripler Army Medical Center's Twin Clinic for my regular check. I was 36 weeks pregnant, looked like a toothpick that had inexplicably swallowed a jumbo watermelon, was unable to wear any shoes besides men's size 12 flip-flops, and was unable to drive because I couldn't fit behind the steering wheel and reach the pedals with my foot at the same time.

I was utterly miserable, and nothing made me happier than the doc saying I would be staying at the hospital that day, because my babies had decided to make their appearance early (very common with twins). They weren't due until January 7th.

Untold agonizing hours later (I dunno, fourteen? -ish?), TalliahAngel made her appearance. The nurses immediately exhorted me to "push! push!"...uh, I just pushed one baby out...don't I get even a little break?! Apparently not. It wasn't until they started prepping me for a c-section that I decided maybe I could push a little more. Plus, I had my eye on the clock and realized if I didn't hurry up, my twins would have different birthdays, and that was just UNACCEPTABLE. A little assistance from the vacuum extractor and voila! Chaos (as she is known online) was born!

Tally was 6lbs, 1.8oz. Chaos 5lbs, 13.1oz. BIG for twins! Imagine if I had gone full term...

From all the parents of twins I've spoken with since, the 21-minute gap between my girls is the longest I've encountered! (And btw, I ALWAYS say it thusly: "21 EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL minutes later..." Gotta keep it at the forefront of my children's minds!)

My life would never be the same. I'm so grateful that they are in this world! They are the most precious, intelligent, annoying, wonderful, aggravating, delightful, yet horrible young women: I know they'll conquer every obstacle, taking no prisoners (prisoners are deadweight, after all), and achieving anything they set their minds to.

Happy Birthday, my Babies! I love you!

Public Service Announcement

Dear Oblivious Slow Drivers in the Fast Lane:

Get. The. FUCK. Out. Of. My. Way. 

Or I'm gonna shank a bitch.

Oh, hell. Why limit it to the fast lane? ALL of you oblivious slow drivers, GET OUTTA MY WAY.

Channelling Inigo Montoya

Written on a tip envelope


  "Thanks for a mollifying morning!! :)"


Somehow I don't think he really knows what that word means.

Here we go again...

Clients coming in who have colds. No. Just no.


Also: HAPPY BELATED THANKSGIVING. Sorry, I was in food coma for most of the day and forgot to post anything.

Today

I played Scattergories and dominoes with psych patients. Hey, every clinical should be this fun!

However, I didn't appreciate the asshat behind me who was HONKING because I didn't blithely make a left turn into oncoming traffic. Sorry that I didn't use my telekinetic powers to move the cars out of the way so that you could get home faster, Douchebag, but I'm not supposed to use them for expedience.

Quote of the Day

"Everything's better with melted chocolate!"

Typical

I had to use off-site parking at school today. Of course the only space I could score was at the ass end of beyond.

Well, that sucks, I thought. I'm going to be coming back here after dark...but wait, at least the parking space is right under a light!

Which of course turned out to be the ONLY light that was not working tonight. Everywhere else was brightly illuminated, but my car was in a pool of shadow.

*sigh*

The HORROR!

Giving a group presentation on Female Genital Mutilation (FGM) in my Nursing Ethics Class.

Showing a Youtube video using the classroom computer and campus wifi, which apparently doesn't have Adblock or anything similar.

Having ads for FUCKING RAZORS pop up during the video, where young girls and women are describing the horrible mutilation they experienced at the hands of those who should love and protect them.

Fucking insane and ridiculous and I wanted to die. ARGH.

Quote of the Day

"Knead my ass like it's a lump of dough...!"

Alrighty then...

Christina's Time-Saving Techniques...

1. Assess line at cafe; note it's really, really long.
2. Realize you only have five minutes before your next class and you NEED CAFFEINE.
3. Grab a coke.
4. Approach the young man who's second in line, ask him what he plans to order.
5. After ascertaining he's only getting an iced coffee, offer to buy it for him if you can sneak your coke in, too.
6. Pay for coke and iced coffee and go on your way.

WIN-WIN

Quote of the Day

"Is he barking through his monkey?"

Sassy Bank Sign

GO, RED SOX!
NOW GO SHAVE.

Gotta love my clients!

A client wrote on a tip envelope:

Thx for the back and butt magic!! :)

There are worse things to be known for than being a purveyor of BUTT MAGIC (said in an exaggerated fashion while doing jazz hands and spirit fingers...)

I should put that on my business cards.

Overheard in a Birthing Suite

Husband (speaking anxiously to wife in labor): Honey, are you okay?!

Wife (with a very slight smile on her face): I have a HEAD in my PELVIS.


He didn't ask her again.

It's always nice...

when the owner of the spa is within earshot when a client tells the front desk staff that the massage she just received from me was the BEST MASSAGE EVAR.

I had a dream

I dreamed that today was Sunday and I didn't have to go to work. Then I woke up.

*sigh*

It would have been a dream come true!

Off to the salt mines, Y'all.

Public Service Announcement

If you're driving in heavy traffic through a tunnel, don't become obsessed with identifying the movie the kids in the minivan in front of you are watching. It will not end well.

Note to Self: Don't Blog When Exhausted...

I had my mental health clinical today, and it was a very good day.

A gentleman complimented me on my sweater.

A lady told me after a lengthy conversation that I had "a good light." (I got verklempt!)

(...)

Edited by author to remove stuff that wouldn't have been added had she not been totally exhausted.

Driving among Massholes

You must be prepared to SLAMONTHEBRAKES at any given nanosecond. Just sayin'.

Missin' my Blogorado Peeps.

I haz a sad.

Also: Stingray without Labrat is like peanut butter without jelly. I sense a disturbance in the force.

Oh, well...NEXT YEAR I'LL BE THERE, NO MATTER WHAT!!!

Dream or nightmare?

You decide!

I dreamed I was working an overnight at the hospital, and rather than taking care of patients, the entire staff sang karaoke together, instead. LOUDLY.

The worst part is we were supposedly singing "Fernando" by ABBA, but even my subconscious doesn't know the song very well,  so it was a mash-up of "Fernando" and "Mandy" by Barry Manilow.

Fernando:

Mandy:

Yeah, I vote "nightmare". My brain is seriously fucked up.

Overheard in the Car

Washing babies is like washing dishes, only with more crying!

Idiots!

Just discovered that five SENIORS were expelled last semester for cheating on an exam. What utter MORONS. Why would they destroy their lives over a stupid grade on a test? I just don't get it.

While perusing a patient's H&P...

I came across this gem:

UDS* positive for Cannibals.

o.O


I laughed so hard I nearly peed myself. And when I showed it to my clinical instructor, SHE laughed so hard she nearly peed herself.

Ah, nursing school. Fun times.



*UDS=Urine Drug Screen

Epiphany

I had an epiphany of sorts last night as I was cleaning the treatment room at work.

All the things that FUCKING IRRITATE me, that I consider my pet peeves, can really be boiled down to ONE GIANT PEEVE:

Half-assedness.

Don't be a half-ass, don't do a half-assed job.

It's simple. If you want to stay on my good side, finish what you start and do a thorough job.

It doesn't matter if it's at work, doing chores, driving on the street, writing something, whatever. If you are thorough and do things right, I won't have to shank you or wish you to the ninth circle of Hell. Or Siberia. Or that you are staked out on a fire-ant nest after being covered in honey .

You get the picture, I'm sure.

It makes my life so much easier to have recognized this! Now I don't have to freak people out (and or annoy/irritate them myself!) by enumerating all the things that tick me off!

It's just one.

Creepy McCreeperson

Had a client today who reminded me of Joe Pesci's character in the Lethal Weapon movies, and he gave off a weird vibe. He was either mentally ill in some way or he was high.

He was one of those clients who starts getting undressed the moment they walk through the door of the treatment room. Shoes kicked off and fingers unbuttoning the shirt. I reminded him to wait until I left the room to undress, and he pulled the shirt off and said, "See, I'm wearing a t-shirt!" No, it was an undershirt, there's a difference, and it's still inappropriate. These people are so worried about not getting the full time on their massage, they usually say things like, "I'll be done so quickly, you don't even need to leave the room!"
As did my client yesterday. Yeah, no. That doesn't fly.

He never crossed the line during our session, but he said a few things that put me on high alert, and made me choose my replies very carefully.

"What can we do to help me relax?" Ew. Just ew.

After he turned over to lie on his back, and I asked him how he was, he said,

"I feel GREAT. But enough is never enough...if you know what I mean."

Also EW.

But by far the oddest exchange happened right at the end, when I was massaging his neck and shoulders.
He looked up at me earnestly and said in a low voice,

"I apologize, Christina...and I know this is taking it too far, but do you massage...the face?!"

FUCK YOU. I'll MASSAGE YOUR FACE ALL RIGHT...WITH MY FIST!!!!

*ahem*

No, I didn't say that.

I assured him that I do indeed massage the face, and all was well in his universe.

After tipping me a measly 12 bucks and raving about my mad skillz to the front desk, he went on his way.

Hopefully NEVER TO RETURN.

Let me just say...

Nursing school is not for wusses.

Every time I think I have a handle on things, one more (additional!) assignment gets tacked on. I feel like I'm drowning.

My anxiety is ratcheting up, my sleep is fractured and poor, and I'm getting increasingly cranky.

Before the current semester, the beginning of each semester was always like this. THIS semester, though, doesn't seem to be settling into a groove. I miss the groove. *sigh*

Oh, well. Maybe if I stop stressing so much about getting an A in every class, and stop being such a fucking perfectionist about my writing, I'll be able to relax. But knowing me, I doubt it, LOL.

Anywho, thanks for letting me vent, O Bloggy Friends!

Leavin' on a Jet Plane...

in January.

I'll be going to Cape Town, South Africa for almost three weeks! I'll be traveling with my Epidemics class, and we'll be working hard while we're there.

I don't know how much I'll be able to share here, but of course y'all will be the first to know (after me, duh.)

So, any tips? Recommendations? Advice? I'm NOT going to be doing sight-seeing, etc. We're there to work.

In other news, school is kicking my ass (but what else is new?) I feel like I'm barely treading water, and it's only been four weeks since the semester started. I will eventually have some kind of routine going, but the extra class (epidemics) requires a TON of reading and a journal for each lecture (which is twice weekly), and that's on top of all my nursing stuff. Of course, it was my decision to take this class (which was by invitation/interview only), so I only have myself to "blame".

I KNOW it will all be worth it in the end, but right now I feel like whining, and if I can't whine on my on blog, WHERE CAN I?!

Well, I guess I should get back to work...

Seen on campus

A waifish young lady with Easter-Egg PINK hair, pixie cut, wearing a purple bowler hat.

Adorable!

Conversations from Clinical*

Me: So, you know the patient who sings to drown out the voices? Are you ever tempted to sing along with her?

Instructor: *blink blink*

Me: Not that I DID, but I was tempted! C'mon, she was singing "Wind Beneath my Wings"!

Instructor: You made a wise choice.



I had that song stuck in my head for the rest of the day.

*mental health clinical

So much material...

...so little time or motivation.

Things keep happening, or I see something, or somebody says something, and I think, "Wow, that would make GREAT blogfodder!" But by the time I get to a computer, I don't have the time or inclination to actually WRITE anything.

Oh, wait!  I will share this: My newborn nursing/labor and delivery/maternity clinical instructor met with us at the lab on Friday for a training session. She also handed us some lovely material pertaining to our clinical site and clinical experience, including a list of do's and don't's. At the very bottom of the list, she had handwritten ALL IN CAPS:

WEAR DEODORANT!!!

We all snickered as we read it, but quickly sobered as she went on to explain to us how awkward and mortifying it had been, for both her and the student, to have to have the discussion about body odor and hygiene with said student last semester. One thing that one must keep in mind is that pregnant women have a VERY sensitive sense of smell and cannot tolerate nasty odors. The last thing you want is to make the lady you are assisting during labor have to vomit because you STINK.

*snerk*

I also wanted to give y'all a quick update on Silver's situation. She is still sleeping on a friend's couch in Fargo, but in GOOD news, she managed to land a full-time programming gig at the university despite her non-student status. This was through some kind of manipulation/mojo/legerdemain on the part of the graduate student who worked behind the scenes to get her the initial summer gig. Apparently he feels responsible for how that turned out. Go figure. She tells me that with careful budgeting and thanks to your generosity, she'll be able to pay her outstanding balance within a few months and enroll in classes for the spring semester (yes, at UND...her options are pretty limited when it comes to school, she's so close to graduating that attempting to transfer all of her credits would likely be futile and expensive.)

So, that's that. And actually, writing this blogpost is enabling me to procrastinate, as I have some group notes from a lecture to work on and post to the class wikispace. Damn, at procrastination I'm a GENIUS, I tell you!

Three. More. Semesters.

School started today. It was actually entertaining, but to be honest, I'm feeling kinda burnt out. I want to have sleep learning like in a SF novel, where they hook me up to a machine, I go to sleep, and wake up with all the necessary knowledge. Or to get it all uploaded directly into my brain, like Neo learning kung-fu in the Matrix movie.

I love learning but I don't want to do the work.

Sigh.

The most "entertaining" thing was one of my classmates in my Epidemics class asking me for permission to date my twins. Yes, both of them. At the same time. And he wasn't joking, either.

Sigh.

I mean, at least he's not a total creeper. He was honest. He's 21, extremely bright, and extremely cute. Maybe I should ask TallyAngel if she's interested. After all, Chaos is in North Dakota anyway, and therefore my classmate's fantasies are destined to remain just that...

Well, I'm tired and off to bed. I have a paper due tomorrow afternoon (yes, ALREADY), but I guess I'll write it in between my two lectures tomorrow.

Let the Procrastination Games begin!

Silver decided to update her website...

...and the donation link got broken.

If you're still inclined to donate, and don't have an aversion to Paypal (which, if you're a gunnie, is completely understandable, btw.), direct your gaze to the right of your screen and you'll find a "Donate to Silver" button at the top of my sidebar.

Thank you all again.

UPDATE:
Link is broken, from the Paypal end of things. Her email address is now listed in place of the button. Sorry about the confusion.

Update

Yay!

Silver has now received $1175 in donations!

Thank y'all very, very much.

She's going to Fargo for a week or so while she decides where to go and what to do for the rest of the semester. She has to work and work fast to pay the rest of the bill so that she can register for classes for the spring semester.

You are all awesome, btw. :)

Silver Speaks.

She hijacks the blog to say:

THANK YOU SO MUCH :D I apologize for the lack of contact or whatever lately, I've been trying to figure out where I'm going to live and stuff (contacting relatives, getting my affairs in order, etc etc). I'll be sending a lovely e-mail to each and every one of you once I start packing up (ergo, after I'm done playing phone tag and hashing things out). Web work will start once I'm settled in where I am for the next three months. :) Again, my apologies for the lack of updates on my part, Mom's been on my ass about it (despite it being her blog...), but I've been running around trying to get things done, which I have a limited timeframe during the day for. Not everyone is up at midnight like I am!

Bleg

I believe this is my first official bleg, and I hesitate to do it, but it's for my child.

Silver the Evil Chao, aka SystemsReady, is in a terrible bind. You know her from the pages of my blog, and many of you have met her in real life. She's brilliant, funny, and broke. She owes her university (the University of ND) $3000 for summer housing and will be kicked out of the dorms tomorrow (Wednesday the 28th) if the bill doesn't get paid. Yes, I know this is last minute, but we've been trying to work things out with the school and through family up until now without success.

Here's what happened and why/how everything got so ugly:

Silver didn't come here for the summer because she was offered an AWESOME full-time programming job from the college of nursing at her university, and she had to be there for face-to-face meetings. She took summer housing at the university because she's used to it and she didn't have to pay up front, the charges would just be posted to her account.

Unfortunately, the nursing department dicked around for months and the start date for her job kept being pushed back over and over, until she got an email saying that the college of nursing had a new dean and all agreements/meetings/jobs were cancelled.

By this time, it was too late for her to register for summer classes, which would have enabled her to get some kind of financial aid to cover the charges for housing.

She had already signed up for housing for the fall semester and she moved back into her regular dorm room last week, only to find out they were kicking her out for non-payment of the summer housing charges and because she's not enrolled in classes yet.

She has another programming job lined up through the school, one she's done before, but she has to be enrolled in classes to get it, and she has a hold on her account because of the charges, so she can't enroll in classes. The bursar's office offered her a payment plan to pay off the charges monthly, but that hinged on her getting the university programming job.

It's a classic Catch-22, and until the $3000 are paid, she has no place to live, no job, and no chance to enroll in classes for this semester.

Some good friends of hers have offered her a couch to crash on for a few days, but that's not a long-term solution and it still doesn't address the fact that she can't take classes at the university.

So I'm blegging y'all to help her. I've done all I can, and this is my last idea for a solution.

Here's where you can donate, if you're so inclined. Silver will thank everyone personally for any donation, and anyone who donates $50 will get two hours of custom website design (and she's GOOD).

Thank you all for reading, and thank you for any prayers, good wishes, etc. It's greatly appreciated.
 ______________________________________________________________________________
UPDATE:
ZOMFG! You guys ROCK!
As of 2:33 PM today you've donated a total of $675. That's INCREDIBLE and we're grateful and humbled.
The university will be happy to get a big chunk of cash and it's wonderful progress IN ONE DAY. Wow.

Quote of the Day

"This duct tape is comfortable."

This is just typical...

...of my quirky brain.

So I'm watching "Despicable Me 2", a hilarious, over-the-top, totally unrealistic animated kids' movie, and what do I focus on?

"Oh my GOD! Is that a chicken running loose in the restaurant? That's a major health code violation, the Health Department would totally shut them down, pronto."

Yes, even *I* mentally facepalmed. The workings of my brain are mysterious, what can I say?

Really good movie, though. I highly recommend it.

Quote of the Day...

(said in a sing-song voice) "Please don't step on my testicles..."

Dear Clients:

I'm super happy for you that you are able to be outside and enjoy the absolutely lovely weather we're having.

Even though I'm stuck in the spa all day.

Naturally, that includes my joy for the fantastic day you had at the beach.

BUT FOR ALL THAT'S HOLY, TAKE A MOTHERFUCKING SHOWER BEFORE YOU COME IN TO GET A MASSAGE.

I don't relish rubbing the nasty-ass mixture of sand, salt, funk, sun block, and massage lotion all over your body. It's gross and it's gritty and I get it all over my hands and arms. Not that it appears to bother YOU.

If you're going to be inconsiderate like that, at least tip generously. Otherwise feel free to turn your ass around and go elsewhere, 'cause I'm too old and cranky for this shit.

I've lost my blogging oomph...

But if I still had it, I would blog about how AWESOME the Northeast Bloggershoot was yesterday.

Cannons were fired, Elmo was bayoneted (after being thoroughly perforated by many, many rounds of ammo), and much fun was had by all. Especially my twins, who had the good fortune of having many patient teachers on the firing line (Glenn, Les, Weer'd, and Jay G., especially), not to mention the generosity of all the gunnies who were more than willing (more like "eager") to let newbie shooters try out their firearms.

We had delicious food and EXCELLENT conversation, and the weather was simply perfect.

Many, many thanks from the LMT Clan to all the participants, but especially to our hosts, the DoubleTroubles, who put up with the yearly invasion with grace and courtesy, and to the organizer par excellence, Jay G.

________________________________________________________________________________
UPDATE:
Ehrmahgehrd! I forgot to thank WALLY for fixing my rifle and bringing it to the shoot! THANK YOU! I got to use my Precioussssss to make a reactive target dance and it was GLORIOUS.

Inquiring mind wants to know...

Would any of you date a young lady with a prominent tattoo that says "Daddy's Girl"?

Personally, I find it a bit creepy.

Seen at the Spa

Written on the whiteboard by a recently-delivered-of-her-first-child colleague:

That's not my breast milk in the fridge!

I loled.

The biggest joke?

The posted 25 mph speed limit in the big Revere rotary/roundabout/traffic circle (take your pick).

AWKWARD

A couple weeks ago on a Tuesday I did a trade with my friend A., with whom I work at the spa, and received a FANTASTIC massage. I strolled into work on Wednesday night feeling like a million bucks and greeted the usual gang. A. was there, and I immediately thanked her for the wonderful massage and mentioned that I had even posted her awesomeness on the facebookenings.

Meanwhile, as I continued my effusiveness, I observed A.'s face becoming more and more, well STUFFED looking. You might even say "constipated". My babbling trickled to a halt as I realized I must have stepped in it somehow. (Not an uncommon occurrence in my lifetime, trust me!)

I quickly changed the subject and a short while later A. escorted me out the back where we could have a conversation not likely to be overheard.
It turns out that A. had been asked by L. to do a trade on Tuesday, too. But A. had put her off, telling her "[she had] something to do on Tuesday."

Yeah, that would be trading massages with moi!

And of course when I first entered the break room and started blathering about the epic massage I had received and how AWESOME A. was, L. was standing right behind me and heard everything.

I realize that I really didn't do anything wrong since A. hadn't apprised me of the situation, but I was still mighty embarrassed.

Oh, well. Awkward is my middle name.

All Zumba Classes are not Created Equal

*WARNING* incredibly boring blogpost ahead, consider yourselves warned!

 So, I've been pretty proud of myself for heading to the local Y every Sunday morning for the past six weeks or so for a most excellent Zumba class. Doing the same thing over and over again at the gym gets really old, really fast, so I decided recently to mix things up a bit, taking yoga, Zumba, and a brutal weight-lifting class. I've always considered myself a fairly decent dancer (oh, hell...who am I kidding, *I* think I ROCK!), and I took ballet as a child and ballroom dancing classes as a teenager.

C., our Sunday morning instructor, is always cheerful and full of energy, and her class is always packed. I believe we've had up to 30 participants, which makes for a very crowded room. It's a fantastic over-all workout and I feel I'm getting my money's worth. So far I've stuck to the back of the class, but I think I've got most of the routines down well enough now that I could move up a row or so this coming Sunday.

Yesterday I was idly perusing the class schedule at the Y, and lo and behold: A Friday morning Zumba class! Perfect, I thought. I always drag my feet going to the gym, but if I know a class is scheduled, I make more of an effort to get my butt in gear.

Dear God, I should have known better.

My first clue should have been the relatively small size of the class, only ten or so people. My second clue should have been the lack of, well, people of a certain age, shall we say. Third would be that three of the participants were male. Further indications of the hell to come would have been obvious to a toddler, such as the minuscule, artfully torn, midriff-bearing, brightly colored, "ZUMBA"-emblazoned outfits most of the others were wearing. Not to mention the tanned, toned,
pumped, and buff bodies encased by said outfits. Did I mention the six-packs on display? No, I'm not talking about beer, more's the pity!

Speaking of pity... pity me, dear Readers!

The instructor, H., was friendly and up-beat, and she started the class at a high intensity. Then she turned it up to ELEVEN. I tried my best to keep up, and focused on the footwork, mostly eschewing the hands/arms.

You know, I've always thought that I could swing my hips and shake my ass with the best of them, but I was WRONG WRONG WRONG. I never knew that Zumba required twerking skills! (Look it up, Folks. My children enlightened me. *shudder*)

I was panting and sweating buckets within minutes, keeping my gaze glued to the instructors feet and her gyrating ass, totally acceptable behavior in Zumba class, I might add.

Every once in a while, I would catch a glimpse of a doughy, whiter-than-white, stiff and totally awkward middle-aged chick in the mirror, then I'd realize: Oh, yeah. That's me. Fuck.

But you know what? Even though I wanted to quit half-way through, I stuck it out to the end, mentally composing this blogpost as a coping mechanism, to distance myself from the torture. I also eventually realized that several of the folks who were madly gyrating along with H. were actually Zumba instructors themselves, which made me feel a bit better about my lack of coordination and grace. Not to mention my lack of booty-shaking skillz.

And you know something else? I'll be back there next Friday at 9:00. I can't possibly get any worse, so that means I can only get better!

GO, ME!

Quote of the Day from my Youngest (by 21 endless, pain-filled minutes) Daughter

Said in a sepulchral tone of deepest melancholy, while contemplating her black-on-black sneakers as we're driving to weight-lifting class:

My shoes are a reflection of my soul...

I larfed. 

Who edits these things?

I just received my mental health nursing clinical placement form, which I need to fill out and return to my school as soon as possible.

Here are the errors I found on the form:
fACULTY (minor, I know, but I'm nitpicky ;).)
DISPBUSMENT (I have no idea what this is supposed to be, disbursement maybe? Is it an acronym?)
A run-on sentence:
The following information is required in order to submit your fingerprints which will be taken by human resources as part of processing your appointment or in connection with the reinvestigation required due to the risk level associate (sic) with your position.
FOLLWINTG (following)
WIEGHT (weight)

I dunno, maybe I'm being too harsh. But this IS an official form and the errors (which not only display an underlying laziness and lack of concern, but could also easily be corrected) piss me off.

Somebody is not doing his/her job. Yet getting paid for it.

Fuckers.

Context is EVERYTHING.

File this one under "Things I Never Expected to Hear my Doctor Say to Me.":

"Good thing you don't sleep naked."

Interesting day at work.

Not only was I called The Human Rolling-pin (a good thing, trust me), but I was subjected to (too) much conversation on the brilliance of a client's child. Yeah, the mom told me how much her daughter's "photogenic memory" helped her in school. I had to bite my tongue and just nodded my head and murmured assent. Hey, I need the tip money!

Karma is a bitch!

Just ask the motorcyclist who almost ran over me and my dogs yesterday.

My pups and I were finishing our morning constitutional and were waiting for a break in the typical morning rush hour traffic to cross the busy, two-lane street in front of our house. Nicely enough, a local cop in his patrol car stopped to let us cross. Harley, Tucker, and I hustled across the oncoming traffic lane, then passed in front of the cop car and were about to make it onto the sidewalk when we had to come to a screeching halt because an impatient motorcyclist on his crotch-rocket decided that he didn't need to wait in the line of cars. Nope, he thought it was a good idea to go speeding alongside the stopped vehicles. Places to go, people to see. And apparently run over, too. Have I mentioned there's no shoulder on this road? Luckily he was able to stop in time, but not before scaring the shit out of me and my dogs and pissing me right the fuck off. Tucker even pulled out of his collar and was loose in the street.

After hurling choice invective at the helmeted bonehead, I was focused on getting Tucker leashed and all three of us off of the road. The nice police officer had a different priority, though. After courteously waiting until my dogs and I were safe, he turned on his pretty lights and siren and disabused the motorcyclist of his notion that he could continue on his merry way unscathed. They were still there fifteen minutes later when I was putting the trash by the curb.

That put a smile on my face and a song in my heart. I hope they threw the book at him.

Ah, Karma...sometimes you're on my side.

Generally...

...whenever a foreign-born (male!) client answers my question of "Have you ever had a massage before?" with "Well, not a massage like this...back home, massage is TOTALLY different," I have my suspicions on how the session is going to go. And I'm (unfortunately) usually right.

*sigh*

And to add insult to injury, he didn't tip me.

I'll have to have the front desk add a note to his file: If client calls to schedule another massage, refer him to Soong's Pleasure Palace down the road.