Bingo, PT

This is my moms' dog, Bingo. He is half Border Collie, half Standard Poodle and mom got him from one of her patients when she was a home health RN. He was an outside dog until my Dad left the house. Bingo moved right in and remembered that pee-pee-pottying is for outside, not the floors. He is one of the most gentle dogs I have ever seen. I don't remember when exactly Moms got the idea, but she decided he was a pet therapy dog. No, he did not have any formal, training and she doesn't claim he has any certificate or anything. He is just so good with people, like he was put on this earth to comfort. Now he does get quite demanding in the petting category by constantly nuzzling your hand towards his body. He stops if you blow in his face though. He is also well traveled. He joined Moms in her trip across the country and back living in Oakland and PA. He did just fine as a city dog.

But back to the pet therapy part. Moms is now a Nurse Practitioner and worked in some nursing homes with her last job. She started to bring Bingo and he went to work! After a few visits she let him loose and he has his own schedule beginning with greetings to the administrative offices, then right to the little old lady who always throws her eggs in the floor. There he has a little breakfast and it is off to let other residents pet him. They just love it! He would wear a tag on his neck that would ring an alarm if he tried to escape, but mostly it served as an introduction every morning. On the loudspeaker someone would announce "Bingo is here!" and all those old people would get so excited. Some days he just lounges around in the main office out of where Moms used to work. He lets them know when he needs to go outside and acts exhausted when he gets home. (I know his job must be soooo difficult!) Recently Moms started a new job, but once or twice a week Bingo still goes to the old job as he hasn't stopped working there. He has a name badge and everything! I must say I have seen the smile Pet Therapy can bring and I think every health care facility should offer this service for those who wish to partake. Pets are amazing, aren't they?

Gephyrophobia

I was in a patient's room doing an assessment last night when his wife turned the TV up. We all watched the breaking news for a moment in disbelief. A huge bridge like that could just fall? WITH PEOPLE ON IT?! The first words out of the wife's mouth was that she hoped it wasn't an act of terrorism. The next words out of the newscaster's mouth was that is was not thought to be due to terrorism. I watched for a few minutes, but had to get on with my rounds. I caught bits and pieces of the news the rest of the night.
Can you imagine going about your business on any old day going to work, home, running errands-whatever normal thing you always do and suddenly BOOM. In the water, or crushed by some huge structure, or teetering over the side of a split in that bridge. I imagine the confusion of those who survived even for a moment afterwards--of what in the world just happened. I saw an interview with a lady who was the first 911 call. She claims it was so quiet right after the collapse. I wonder if it really was silent, or if it was just her mind-silent with the realization of what just happened, trying to grasp the enormity of it. . There are a few horrible things I have witnessed in my life where I could swear to the "silence" as well.

What I don't get is why action was not taken in the past two years when that bridge got poor ratings upon inspection. Why weren't the levies in New Orleans fixed the first time they knew it needed repair? System failure. Red tape. The cost. Not a priority. Believe me I know all about this. Say there is a problem with something, and it doesn't get taken care of due to policy and procedure, or needing approval from 10 thousand different people, or because it is deemed a low priority, etc. It takes something really bad to happen in order for a long needed change to come about. In my mind it seems so simple--something is not right here, so let's fix it. Unfortunately, it usually is complicated by bullshit. I wonder if all the cities are checking their bridges like crazy right now. I also believe in most instances not restricted to bridges or levies, but anything,. if people just do what they are supposed to do, be it because it is their job, or even ethically, a lot less complications would arise. Just do your job people,-the right way. The correct way. The moral way.
I have known people throughout my life who are scared to cross bridges. Gephyrophobia is the fear of bridges. I have always thought this was silly. I don't think I will develop this phobia, but I will probably think about this disaster every time I cross one. Please pray (or think about or whatever you believe in) for these victims and their families and friends and try to make a conscious decision to be thankful for your life because you never know when it will end. Sometimes it only takes a second and that's all for this life we know here.

MBT update

So I wore my new shoes to work last Friday night. They said you are supposed to wear them for short periods of time at first, but I didn't feel like lugging my size 10s along with my back pack to work. My toes hurt so bad by 02:00. Then I came to a conclusion. I had not cut my toenails in a while. They are usually longer than they could be due to the fact that I like to have them french-pedicured. I was wondering about this aloud when a fellow nurse said she had a pair of clippers in her bag. I went outside for a break and chopped them off and it felt much better! I Like the way it feels on my body to walk around in them for sure, but my dawgs were barkin by the end of the shift. After the toenails were chopped down, my only trouble is I can't seem to get the bottom of my feet comfortable when I am sitting down charting. Guess I need to get used to them some more. I have 3 more days before I can't take them back anymore. Maybe tomorrow night will be fine.

Break Dancing

I was driving to the book store in Phoenix one day when I came across a song I hadn't heard in a while. I caught the name of the group and made a detour to Best Buy to purchase the CD immediately. I love me some Midnight Star!




This song (No parking on the dance floor) takes me back to my days of ........break dancing! I loved it. Let's see. The movie Breakin' came out in 1984 so I was what--9 years old? I watched that movie until the tape in that VCR got thin.



I thought Ozone was sooooo "cute" as I said back then and I wanted to be that white girl in the movie whose name escapes me now because as far as I was concerned back then it should have been KATIE. (Katie and Ozone, sittin in a treee-eeee! K-I-S-S-I-N-G-eeee) OK so not the typical little I-want-to-be-a-princess-type of girl. I spent hours in the middle of my bedroom perfecting my head spins and flips, dancing my legs around each other while wallering on the floor, and doing the robot in front of the mirror so I would be ready in case I was ever challenged to a dance-off ......in ALABAMA. Of course I was ecstatic when Breakin 2 came out. (Electric Boogaloo baby!)



I was a punk rocker every Halloween like 3 years in a row and proudly wore my black parachute pants to school at least once a week. So every time I hear this song (and a few others) I get this overwhelming urge to boogy my legs around and spin on the floor making those cool faces. Can't touch my moves ---YOU DON"T WANT NONE OF THIS!

MBT

I finally broke down and bought these shoes I have had my eyes on for a long time now. When I was on assignment in San Francisco I was browsing nurses feet for an idea of what new shoes I should try next to work in. My Skechers were great, but I was itching for a new pair. I saw some interesting shoes on a supervisor's feet, so I asked about them. She raved about how great they were-how she'd tried all kinds of shoes throughout her career these were by far the best.

Apparently some people did a study on why this particular tribe of people in Africa or somewhere could walk for hours barefoot while carrying heavy things on their head and not have any musculoskeletal problems. They decided it was because of the sand they walked on. So they developed these shoes that mimic this idea. It is supposed to eliminate aches and problems with ankles, knees, hips, and lower backs for people who are on their feet all the time. So I looked them up on line and visited stores that carried them and walked around in them a whole bunch, but couldn't swallow paying that much for a pair of shoes. Recently I changed my mind and yesterday I made the purchase. I figured if I add up all the new pairs I have tried to work in, it comes to as much or more as these. I have 7 days to try them to see if they work or I can return them or get a store credit. Let's see if i am ache-free Saturday morning when I get off work. For more details you can go to www.swissmasaius.com.

Bedroom complete

Can I tell you how much I love how my bedroom turned out? My bed is so comfy and I love my tangerine wall. The other three are the chocolate color. Moms helped me figure out what colors would look good with with my comforter. Next I need to figure out what to do with the bathroom. I like decorating and all, but it is hard not to be able to do everything at once. I need to start playing the lottery.

Donate Blood!

So I was watching the news last night and they said there is a blood shortage. They like to have at least a 5 day supply stored and they only had a 24 hour supply. I was thinking oh hell-I hope this doesn't mean more work for me--having to draw serial labs all night to see how low patients' counts are dropping before they decide to give them the blood they are delegating out. (have no idea if this is how it works). And then I thought we'd be shit out of luck if there were to be a disaster of any kind around here. So I got on the net and found me a blood drive to visit today. I treated myself to some yummy Thai food before I went in case my blood leaving my body decided to make me feel faint. (Siam Cuisine on White Bridge Road--I highly recommend) There was a drive at St. Thomas Hospital and surprisingly (also sadly) there was no wait. If you haven't ever donated, they take you to a private little cubby and ask you some questions, check your blood pressure and poke your finger for a small sample. Then you get stuck with a needle in your arm for the blood..The nurse poked me with a 16 gauge and off went my cells. There was a guy across from me who had not been hooked up long and he says "HEY!.........um.......ifeeldizzyiamflushing is ..this......normal?" So 2 nurses went over and jacked his legs up, head down, and stuck a straw in his mouth to drink some coke. He felt fine in about 2 minutes. When my nurse came back to me she was like--OKOK stop pumping! My bag filled up in like 7 minutes. Now I have no idea how long it is supposed to take, but I got the idea that I have some big strong blood going on. I felt OK, went to the refreshment table and then I was out of there. It cost me an hour of my life and this bruise.



I am going to try to give every time I can. I think more people should do the same. I don't know why I haven't been. I know it is an important thing to do. I hope whoever reads this will do the same. You should also be an organ donor, but I can't get started on that right now. Maybe another blog soon. Give up some blood people! Just call your local Red Cross or go to their website www.redcross.com

An old favorite

I know I have been back since August, but I am still finding old treasures in random boxes. I recently came across one of my favorite poems. Well not really a poem. I wanted to share it an I also wanted to save it to my computer so I won't lose it again.

OUTLINES
I hear Jon in the yard with his two small daughters who trace their bodies in chalk on the patio. The shapes are biomorphic, scrawled in green on pink pavement. The girls ask Jon for help. He takes the chalk. "All right, " he says, "I'll draw the outline and then you have to fill yourself in."

In the barn. The wood, the dust, and horse sweat. It all smells good like old books. We surprise and owl. It is white as moon and flies back and forth among the rafters and spangles of floating chaff. Back and forth like a trapped soul.

Why I like reading in the center of night by a dim light---only the words in the book are illuminated. Darkness around the edges of the page. Last night, reading William Maxwell at age 89, saying,"People die and then they're gone. I will never get used to it."

An autumn memory. Helping my mother gather leaves from the cottonwood and poplar. The rule was we had to catch them mid-air as they shivered off the trees. She taped the curled and yellow leaves to the limbs of a winter landscape that hung above the cat-scratched couch.

Once a blind woman, my student, asked if she could touch my face. In her reaching, I felt a bridge. Her fingertips pressed, more firm than I expected, repeatedly, in silence. Then she sighed. "That's what I thought," she said.

There was a man, a tourist from Michigan, who dies by himself in a motorcycle accident at the abandoned silver mill a mile from my home. The Sheriff said he'd been immobile but conscious for awhile. When he died I was the nearest person to him.

I recall spaces between falling leaves. Vacant air and shapes that stayed in place for only a moment.

When my mother dies, I took several pairs of her dress shoes with the idea of giving them away. But the dog got into the backseat of the car and scattered them from the cow pond to the asphalt road. I went walking in the valley and saw a magpie, black/white, in the sage-----breathless, still. I moved closer and realized it was my mother's shoe, a sleek spectator pump.

At the post office a teenage boy ahead of me, holding an envelope with the note or letter sealed inside, requests a stamp.The woman behind the counter says,"Would you like peaches, flags, or love?"

I looked for some evidence of the man's dying down by the old mill. A blood-stained rock or a chalked police-drawn body. What I found in the dust was the papery husk of a snake. Imagine that, to leave your skin without leaving your body.

by Gary Short

Hope you enjoyed. I love it.

Team USA

I went to Chattanooga to watch Team USA come together to practice and play softball in preparation for the University World Games. It is going to be in Thailand during August. Moms had called me up a couple of months ago to say she read about it in the newspaper and my junior college coach had been one of the ones chosen to help coach the USA team. I was so excited for her--what an honor!! And well deserved. The team is made up of Junior College players from around the nation. They were all flown in to Chattanooga by (I think) the Coca-Cola and Little Debbie people-thank goodness or they would have just met each other for the first time in Thailand. They are all great athletes, but it really showed that first night that they didn't know each other. They were clicking by the third night and you could see the camaraderie. It made me miss my old teammates.

I have only been to one game since I played in college. I went to watch UCLA play while I lived in LA. It was fun, Lisa Fernandez was there and all, but didn't leave me with the urge to go back to the days of playing. However this past weekend sitting there on the other side of the fence and hearing my old coach's voice made me want to run around and throw and waller in the dirt. My left hand was itching for my glove!

Coach would come up to us in between innings with comments here and there. A lot of "remember when-s" and filling me in on this player and that. It was great to be around her again. She is a very talented, modest coach who has done such a great job with the program down at Gulf Coast. She has been inducted into the hall of fame and has led her teams all the way to Nationals several times. She is one of my favorite "teachers" of all time.

I also met a new friend there. We ended up sitting beside him in our chairs right at the fence on third base line. He is 85 years old and I can see how he might get on people's nerves, but he kept me laughing a lot. The first evening I had an A&F shirt on with my on the back, so he called me "nine" all weekend. He was in the army for 36 years so I called him "general". He was a talker! He has followed softball there in Chattanooga for years and was well acquainted with all the local players. He filled me in on their highlights and where they were going to college. He also said some crazy things for example--in the stands right behind us a guy was saying he'd always wanted to go to Africa. The general turns around and says "Why the hell do you want to go to Africa?!" The guy tells him whatever it is he wants to see and the general replies "well just be sure you get your VD shot before you go". I mean, the man is 85 and I reckon he can say whatever he wants which is exactly what he did all weekend. There were many more comments, but I know I can't type them as funny as he said them. I am not sure I want to live to be 85, but if I do I hope I am able to get around well and be as sharp as the General is. Of course I had to get a picture with this character.







So that Sunday Mom and I treated some of the team to Cold Stone-the yummiest ice cream ever. The Cold Stone people gave us a sweet deal--they let us all go behind the counter and make our own! How exciting!





Oh --and Saturday as we were walking past the stadium in downtown Chattanooga, they shot fireworks.























Sweet weekend. Yay.

Moon shot

Sooooo. This is what I saw on my very last walk from downtown San Fran back to my apartment. A friend of mine had flown out to check out the city and ride back across the country with me the scenic route. We were on the way back to my apartment, was just turning the corner from Market Street onto 3rd when I spotted a man hunkered down with his shiny ass facing the street taking a big ol dump. And I mean BIG. He was not in any kind of a hurry either and cars and people were just a passin by, most oblivious. He might as well have been squatting down reading a newspaper. So we scramble for our cameras. (OF COURSE) He had already wiped by the time the cameras were ready. He very gently dropped the TP on top of his patty, pulled his britches up and took a right around the dumpster you see here. He then crossed the street and we passed him walking the opposite way. He didn't appear to be homeless, ,or schizo, or anything crazy looking. He wasn't trying to run away from the poo, just calmly walked off as if this is normal. And with a great big smile on my face, I said, "Well I guess I am ready to go now." I had been graced with the gift of seeing my last crazy thing on the streets of San Fran. My I miss those crazy people.

Travel nursing--What is it?

This country girl has been to more places than I ever imagined, which isn't a lot to many. But to me it meant so much to go for an "atypical" life, and what I mean by that is just what my hometown society (and probably my Dad --God love him) led me to believe how a girls life should go upon high school graduation. Not knocking my hometown at all. I am so glad I grew up there and admire the ones that did the "typical" thing and are happy for it. Looking back now I think I just always felt there was a big part of me that was somewhat unsettled during my time in Smalltown USA. Like I believed there was something different in store for me and I was determined to figure out whatever it was.
So on that note, I ended up being a traveling nurse for several years.Looking back it felt like one big vacation in a sense, but I can tell you I paid my dues because I worked my butt off in those hospitals. I lived in LA, Santa Rosa (California), Oakland, New Orleans, New York, New Orleans again, Phoenix, LA again and San Francisco and tried to take full advantage of each city. I loved and hated things about each.. But mostly I loved....
SO...what is a traveling nurse?-some have asked. Well this is how it worked for me...There are a lot of companies out there that try to recruit nurses to come work for them because hospitals pay them big bucks and these recruiters get a chunk of change off their nurses. You pick a company that suits you as they all offer slightly different things, get a recruiter and pick a city. The recruiter tells what jobs are available, and you pick the ones that sound like what you might want to work. Recruiter puts in your profile with the particular unit in the hospital and you wait for a phone call from them to interview you.This part sucked for me because I work nights and for weeks surrounding my interview times I would have to leave my phone on and properly wake myself up enough to make sense for an interview during normal people's day time. I have had interviews that lasted like 60 seconds (you have good experience, please come we are desperate!) up to one that lasted an hour (why did you become a nurse? etc-life story please).While you are interviewing you let them know the dates you need/want/demand off in the assignment and you get to ask your own questions. And believe me, after the first couple of times I got screwed over, I developed many questions to ask them! Then you hang up the phone and tell your recruiter whether or not you'd consider the assignment and wait to see if they pick you.. If it is a "go", you get a contract to sign and it is off to the next city. Usually you can only arrive 48 hours before the start date. You show up at the place your company is putting you up, get the key from the office or lock box and go right into a furnished house or apartment or condo or luxury high rise or whatever. I got to live in places I would probably never be able to afford myself, ,or OK I would NOT have been able to afford along with groceries too. Since nursing is in demand there are so many needs to fill and finding assignments is pretty easy-especially in the bigger cities. And these companies have some sort of agreements with these places to live, so they put you up in crazy great places, or at least my company always did. (except for the time they put me up in Fremont, Cali, but I got that changed quickly) So it was pretty cool. Any nurses out there curious to know more comment me and I will tell you what I learned and hope it helps ya.

Fireworks

As I sat and watched the firework show tonight I tried to figure out the best firework show I'd ever seen and decided there were 2 that tie. The first one being the time I lived in Oakland. Mom had decided she wanted to try the traveling thing so I switched companies and went with the one she got an assignment with. She'd been a nurse practitioner for a while and most companies require at least 6 months of recent nursing practice to travel. They would however let her do home health as opposed to hospital nursing. At the time she wanted to start working, the only job available for her was in Oakland. She was all gung ho so I chose to work in Berkeley. After 2 weeks our assignments we were fuming mad. The company had put us up in Fremont in just an average apartment. If you know anything about the Bay Area, you know it would be ridiculous to live in Fremont and work in Oakland OR Berkeley. It was taking her over an hour to get to work and mine wasn't much better.On top of that my manager at the hospital scheduled me for every single weekend even though when we interviewed we agreed to every other.(I even got to tell her off without cussing and ended with "Well I don't know how you do it here at {insert hospital name} but where I come from when you have a verbal agreement, you stand behind your word!".And I told her to find another traveler to take advantage of and stormed out of there---it felt so good . Anyways I unleashed the bitch and my company got me out of that assignment and moved us to possibly the phattest place I ever lived.
We were on the 17th floor of a luxury high rise right on Lake Merrit. They say some Raiders live there, but I couldn't have recognized any. We were on the corner facing San Fran and it was floor to ceiling windows and sliding glass doors with a sweet wrap around balcony. When mom and I walked in and saw it we were screaming, hugging, and jumping on the couch and all. It was like a movie or something. Hell it could be a movie-Mom driving around Oakland all through the ghettos with her Alabama car tag, and me taking care of gang bangers at the county hospital I worked at. Quick story --I was taking care of this guy that was totally not nice to the staff according to report. He tried to be mean to me as well and to shorten this story within a story, when I introduced myself he flashed some gang sign and basically told me I didn't know who all I would be messing with if I gave him any trouble. So, naturally, I did the first thing that came to mind. I flashed to him the sign language letter "S" which sort of looks like a fist and told him in my thick southern drawl that I was from the South side and he could talk all he wanted but I give the pain meds. He cracked up and was nice the rest of the night.He had to tell all his visitors about it and would call me in his room to talk to them with my accent Even asked if I needed protection while I was in town which I politely declined. Mom and I both enjoyed our assignments--we extended there.
OK to my point. Mom's best friend from high school, Miriam (yes I am named after her) and her brother came to visit us that week of the 4th. We had a little get together with them and some of our friends there. When it was firework time you could see several shows from the different cities going on. They were everywhere! I know this is super cheesy, but it was so beautiful from where we stood that I almost teared up. It was one of several of those times when I had to pinch myself. (not so I wouldn't cry, but because I couldn't believe "I am HERE doing THIS!) I wish I knew how to operate my scanner so I could share some of the pics.
Then the other time was from my balcony in San Francisco just last year. It was not the 4th. It was just some random night around maybe 10:30. I had just gotten in from somewhere and flipped the TV on when I heard what I was sure was gunshots. I thought someone had been caught this time breaking in to a car and there was some kind of retaliation happening.. My apt overlooked the street and being as I stayed up late all the time, I saw or heard about 2 cars a week get their window busted out for whatever was lying on the seat or in the trunk. (and I worked 3 nights a week) By the way I thought about doing a citizen's arrest one time--I learned that from Barney Fyffe---but didn't think that would go over well-some country girl hollering "hey you stop that! Citizen's array-est! Citizen's array-est!" So I called 911 once and left a description, but you could tell they were like-"whatever. We ain't coming over there, we got real crap going on in this city." After that I would just sneak out on my balcony and yell "HEY! I see you!" and duck inside so they couldn't spot me. I kept all my lights off of course. Sometimes it spooked them but most of the time it didn't. OK so I snatched my lamp off and quickly snuck to the balcony. Right as I opened the door, I heard another crackle that scared me half to death and the sky lit up. Apparently there was a baseball stadium like 4 blocks from me (I lived on 3rd and Folsom) and they were having their regular fireworks show. It was beautiful and so close I felt like I could almost reach my hand out and catch one of those weeping willows. Such a nice surprise!

Why?

Why does this video crack me up?I am in gay guy withdrawal. I was such a "fag hag" when I traveled and now I have been here for a year and haven't found one. :(

Bulldogs

So I recently adopted a baby bulldog. This is Atticus in the picture. I have had one in the past, but he was unfortunately not bred properly. Because he was my first, I had no idea the homework necessary to be done before purchasing. He was fairly cheap in bulldog standards. But it was a present from my Dad and the location was close to my hometown. When he was about 3 years old, my mom told me the breeder had been shut down. We don't know the details, but if there were more like mine I can understand and they deserved to be shut down. By then we already knew something was not quite right. He was mean and aggressive. I absolutely loved him though and went to great lengths to keep him away from situations to where he could hurt someone.

I was on assignment in New Orleans when he had his first seizure. It was slight, but I am an RN and was certain he was having seizures. He was diagnosed with epilepsy and I had to put him to sleep about 6 months later when it was too obvious he had something more than epilepsy. The meds weren't working anymore. One Friday night I came in from a concert and he didn't greet me at the door. I'd left the TV on for him so I thought maybe he hadn't heard me come in. I found him on the floor in my bedroom so I laid in the floor with him and tried to pick him up on to my stomach when he let out a scream that made my heart stop. I figured out something in his neck was hurting him so I carefully placed him in the bed and we slept the rest of the night. He was moving better the next day but I took him on to the vet.

The vet decided to keep him over night to do some tests and watch to see what his seizures looked like. He called me the next day and was beating around the bush, trying to break something to me easy. I told him to just tell me straight up and he said he was sure it was a large tumor in his brain. They could see that it was growing down his spine. I asked if I could bring him home for one more night.

The vet shot him up with dexamethasone and gave him some morphine. We ate ice cream and sat in front of the TV. I was crushed. I cried all night and held him. My mom was visiting that weekend (Thank God) and she drove us back to the vet. She prayed during the injection. My heart has never felt such a loss. I have lost before, but this one was so different. That was 3 years ago.

But now I have another little man. We are getting along just fine. I had let myself forget how much I love having a baby around. He was born the end of March and currently we are getting better at potty training and awaiting his final vaccination/rabies shot so we can begin socializing with other doggies. Puppy class begins end of August. I hope we don't flunk out!!

Why I enjoyed my 10 year high school reunion

High School---ugh! All the labels that existed. What kind of box were you put in then? Jock, nerd, geek, fake, class favorite, pill head, rich, redneck, prep,pot smoker, goodie, best dressed, intellectual, and I could go on. I think no matter where you went to high school, there were these "clicks" that gathered together and didn't really dare to venture out or accept those that weren't almost clones of themselves. I can't say I was any different, but I don't remember being cruel about it. And lets just face it. People are typically more comfy around people like themselves-common sense-right? In high school I was a basketball and softball player, cheerleader, made good grades, dated a few hotties and a few not reallies. I went to church and youth and don't remember doing without. My freshman year I started my day early to roll my hair and pick out just the right outfit for that day and was sort of a goodie two shoes-or just way innocent as I like to say. By senior year I slept in as late as possible and maybe dried my hair and my outfit was umbros and tees or jeans and whatever was semi clean--I was so ready to get the hell out of "vegas". I wasn't exactly in a set "click" of friends but kind of visited several circles. I don't know...those of you who went to high school with me may remember it differently. I am not sure exactly what my "label" was and it isn't important for this mini-novel.
I was talking to my brother today about my 10 year class reunion and how it was just so very different than how I had always pictured it. Truthfully at first I really wasn't sure I wanted to go. I had experienced high school, had a good time and all, but I had also left it and changed a lot inside and wasn't just thrilled to revisit it. I was in the midst of my nursing travels and wasn't sure where I would even be living and didn't really want to "waste" a plane fare for a trip home for everyone to talk about weight I've gained since and ponder behind my back about why I wasn't married yet and listen to people talk incessantly and over exaggerating about their smart kids and wonderful /wives/husbands. No offense anyone, but I just didn't relate since I've not experienced the latter. And then my close friendships were with people who were a lot like me-sewing their oats and enjoying the adventures of free living, incessantly planning our next trip or outing. I'd had trouble relating to old high school friends in the past for this very reason: we just don't have much in common anymore and I just end up listening and not talking about my life because they usually don't know what questions to ask so they don't, and I always feel like I am bragging or something if I offer info about what I've been up to, but maybe I will save that subject for a future blog.With that being said, I mentioned the upcoming reunion to some of my current friends and they all gushed about how much they enjoyed theirs and that I absolutely must go. So my decision was made when I knew my assignment during that time would be in New Orleans and I could just drive home and of course I was curious to see who showed up and who had gained weight and gotten skinny and looked old and what their wives/husbands were like and wonder what was wrong with the people who weren't married-haha. But really it wasn't even like that.
OK so an old friend got in touch with me and wanted us to go together. I'll call her Diane. Diane had kept in touch with a guy friend I will call Mel who I had not really been friends with in high school. Not that we were enemies, we just never really at the same place with the same people kind of thing. Mel was single and had since settled in a huge city up north and basically had not really kept in touch with anyone else from high school either. So Diane and I have him go with us as well plus another person who Diane kept in touch with. OK cool so I don't have to show up by myself.
************************************************************** Of note I am from a pretty small town in Northeast Alabama, last I checked it was around 15 thousand people and we only had one high school. My graduating class had, I believe, 204 people. So everyone pretty much knows everyone and your mama and all your business. If they don't really know all your business they will act like they do and tell everyone about it. You know--stereotypical small town stuff. Also being a small southern town, football is huge and watching high school football was the place to be on Friday nights at Trammel Stadium. So fittingly we have our class reunions on homecoming weekend-a major holiday in my town. It is a BIG deal OK. ************************************8********************
So I drive home for the reunion. Friday afternoon the town shuts down early and kids get out of school around noon to watch the Homecoming parade. If you are part of a reunion you get to be in the parade with your fellow classmates and ride on big bails of hay on the back of a long flat bed truck and pelt people with candy as you ride by. (yes--BIG BAILS OF HAY) I hadn't given it too much positive thought in the months preceding this weekend, but I found myself ecstatic to see the familiar faces from my past. We met at the truck and everyone was talking and I felt like I just didn't have enough time to talk to everyone I needed to and I NEEDED to talk with everyone at that very moment. I would talk for a second and then see someone else I needed to run over to a scream and hug to death.. (I know--pretty funny for those of you who know me now) All of a sudden my good old friend I used to play softball with as a kid and always adored her rowdy/rule-breaking self growing up shouts,"Damn Katie! Jump on here already! What are you trying to do, be a politician? We got all weekend, SHIT!" I look over and see the truck is moving forward so for split flashback second I looked around to be sure no teachers or adults heard her cuss, then reminded myself we couldn't really get in trouble for that anymore so I jump onto a spot on some hay and we were off. I thought to myself, "Oh my Lord Katie we are already having so much fun and it hasn't even been 20 minutes! I can't believe you weren't going to come". Now believe it or not for you who didn't know me then, but I was a cheerleader in 6th through 10th grades. (And by the way-not your normal cheerleader because at my school we were really good and went to National Competition every year) But my point is that we always rode in the parades and did those annoying little chants. Well......I forgot how much I loved the parades! Not the chanting parts but the looking at people as you pass by thing. See, back then it was a requirement to pick out every single person you know and make a fool of yourself getting their attention just so y'all can simply wave at each other like you haven't seen them in 100 years even when you just saw them in homeroom that morning....and everyday prior to that. Plus remember I said you basically know almost everyone, so you can understand just how exhausting this can be for a girl. Well, years later here I was (secretly) trying my hardest to pick out every familiar face I knew and well, you already know the rest. I ran out of candy early and had to resort to snatching more from various classmates. I might could have left after that parade and it be enough joy to last me until next reunion, but I had yet to talk to everyone enough and find out how great their lives were. (sincerely)
That night was of course the football game so groups of us met before going into the stadium. I still drank then so we all drank a few beers and smoked a few cigs. A high school post cheer leading tradition. I thought this part was fun because obviously I was not in New Orleans anymore and you could get in trouble for open container only post high school they'd probably do more than tell my parents. So I felt that same old thrill as we snuck sips while making sure the coast was clear. I got to see more people I hadn't either seen or been able to talk to during parade time. We hit the stadium and blabbered on and met some off springs and marveled at the likes they shared with their parents. Lots of us left after the Homecoming queen was crowned and the halftime show was performed by the bands. We all agreed the talent pool had dwindled since our days of our totally righteous band and dance team paired with OUR dancing drum major. From there it was to the local bar and grill for some honky tonk live music and mixing and mingling with each other and the other classes' reunion people. We joked a lot, drank a lot and traded stories of some of the crazy happenings from 10 to 20 years ago. I was surprised at how easily I had seemed to forget how much I enjoyed these people I grew up with. I distinctly remembered looking around and seeing that there were not any of the old high school clickiness going on. I mean there were a few who drifted back in to the old habit of only talking with their "chosen few" but that was OK--guess they were just more comfortable that way or had been out of touch and had more to catch up on. And I'd heard that a click or two were gathering at someones house, cabin, or something even though for the most part they all still lived around and hung out with each other. And that was OK too, though I felt they were missing out. But it was cool to sit back a second and watch the greetings of old friends and people who were maybe not such good friends back then, but excited now to see each other anyways. Friday night I got a ride home with an old classmate and her husband. I caught myself remembering the tiffs we had when I dated her ex-boyfriend in 11th grade.(OK I know friends' exes are always off limits so I must let you know it wasn't like we were GOOD friends then, just knew each other and didn't really hang out in the same circles) I remembered just how big of a deal our little extended tiff was then and the ensuing words and talking behind each other's backs and all that that goes a long with high school. But here we were, sharing info about that night and our lives with a mutual respect and excitement for each other just like who'd a thought it.
SO there was a picnic Saturday afternoon which I skipped so I could hang with my fam and would be rested enough to stay out late again that night. Diane, Mel and the other chick and I went to my Dad's girlfriend's house for drinks and his famous yummy steaks before showing up fashionably late to the shin-dig held for just our class at a local golf course clubhouse. Mel was talking over dinner about how glad he was that he got talked into flying in for this reunion weekend. He shared some of his thoughts on his high school experience such as the never-ending torture of bullies and struggling with trying to be cool and even gave examples of some hurtful things people had done or said to him. I was surprised by the whos and whats and wondered out loud why I never concerned myself with such. But at that moment I realized that it was because I had my own trials and tribulations to deal with then and as most teens tend to be pretty self centered, I am sure I was no exception and I had my own worries though most of mine were totally petty. Like I worried whether or not I had teased my bangs high enough or put a sufficient amount of hairspray in them. My point is I didn't pay enough attention to things that didn't concern me or the latest gossip, or I wasn't secure enough to stick up for people and try to put a stop to other's cruelties. I can assure you times have changed and I am a real bitch these days. Of course maybe some thought I was then too, OK I am blabbering. Mel was also now openly gay which immediately explained to me some of what he must have been up against within himself and his plight to feel accepted back then. He also said it was very therapeutic for him to revisit his high school years and the people who were so cruel were now so friendly to him and he was pleasantly surprised and thankful for the confidence he now carried himself with. (You go Mel!)
So back to the fashionably late part....We showed up as people were finishing dinner and we caught up more with folks and had a DJ inside and the beer outside. They showed the old slide show that was seen during our Senior Memory Day and it brought back lots of memories and chuckles. I tried to speak to all, but sometimes it was kind of awkward, like I didn't want to interrupt another's conversation, or I would have been horrified to not be able to recall a name, ,or talk about an event from way back when only to find that person wasn't even there for it or something. My favorite reunion was a guy I didn't recognize at first in the dim lights outside and to be honest had not thought about much since leaving the hallowed halls of SHS. He walked up to me to say hi and tell me what he'd been up to since high school. Once I recognized him I was shocked that he was so tall. He'd always been short and quiet in high school. He'd also been my little boyfriend in 2cd grade who'd given me a glittery Michael Jackson's glove pendant on a necklace. And now he was a confident, tall guy who bragged about his life the children he is raising on his own. He seemed so comfy in his own skin and had really made a good life for himself that he was so sincerely proud of. We prob only talked for 20 minutes or so and he said he was going home to relieve his babysitter. He told me he'd hoped to see me at the reunion and thanked me for being kind to him in school. (?---I had no idea--?) Cool.
So after the bartender people ran out of beer for the 3rd time (they claimed they never ran out at any other reunion and that our class was some wild and crazy people.....duh), we moved the party back to the bar and grill and talked and laughed more. We closed that down, got shooed out of the parking lot and it was off to someones cabin on the lake. (at least I think it was on a lake). Anyways keep in mind the partyers are dropping as the night drones on. So it was funny when someone pointed out at the cabin that we all didn't exactly run around together back in high school. Which almost brings me to my point...(finally--right?)
To end this I have to tell you about this guy I'll call Carl. Carl is brilliant, but never liked to apply himself to the books in high school. He seemed air headed at times and definitely walked to the beat of a different drum. Once in English class he passed around a poem and if you read it several times and deciphered some its words and phrases, you got that it was an invitation to sit naked around a campfire at midnight one weekend night on a certain island and read poetry. That's just one example of his crazy ideas which by the way did happen because Diane and I and 2 others rowed a boat to that island in the lake just a piece from what we always called "Midget Mountain" to find naked people, a camp fire and books of poetry. They let us visit briefly but Carl said we had to go if we weren't shedding the clothes so off we rowed.
So. I ended my class reunion weekend at about 4:30 that Sunday morning riding on the back of Carl's motorcycle-(I was wearing the helmet as he only had one) as he drove 20 MPH all the way down one of the 2 main roads in my hometown and I am hysterical-giggling and screaming for him to speed up or we'll get thrown in jail for sure. No hooking up OF COURSE. Just two very different people who basically only had in common was the fact that we grew up in the same town, in the same grade but enjoyed each other all the same.
I once met another nurse on assignment while I was in San Francisco who was born and raised in New York City-or Manhattan as they call it. She told me that all her friends were very different in culture, race, background, and socio-economic status and she wouldn't have it any other way because it keeps her mind open and her life full of color. And I keep this beautiful idea with me. I tried to apply my high school reunion experience to this only on a smaller scale. I mean obviously being a small southern town you only get exposed to so much cultural and racial diversity. Though I didn't do it purposefully, some of my thoughts and ideas, and beliefs bordered on very narrow minded in high school because I didn't know any better-I had never been exposed. It wasn't until I started in my path of discovering other "worlds" with new experiences and making my own choices upon leaving high school and thereafter did I truly and FULLY appreciate people's differences. The reunion was not just a return to gather with the people I grew up with, but refreshing in the sense that what I saw were people who had at some point in time stepped out of the box/stereotypes of who we were supposed to be in high school. I thought we truly enjoyed each other. I don't recall any petty "high school shit". Of course this time around I wasn't looking for that either. And this is why I enjoyed my 10 year class reunion. Rock on class of 94! We all turned out pretty damn awesome! (I can't wait for the next parade!!)
So go to your class reunions people. And please share your experiences with me if anybody reads these things.