Jan 21, 2009

Things I love about being a nursing major

I feel like I complain a lot about being a nursing major. But today I encountered a couple of things that made me realize I love my major.

The nursing office is sort of like a spa. They burn candles that smell like fresh rain or chocolate chip cookies. They sometimes play music with waterfalls. They have, in fact, had a waterfall at one time. There are flowers and statues of angels and inspirational posters. It all is very funny to me because so many nursing majors seem to be one test away from an emotional and mental breakdown. And yes, we complain a lot and yes, it is bad sometimes. And yes, we are overly dramatic a lot of the time. But yes, sometimes it really is THAT bad.

But when things get that bad and I think "I can't walk into this classroom again." - I walk into the room hearing "The Way You Make Me Feel" and a dance party began. We didn't get much accomplished in class, but it reminded me that being a nursing major is actually really great sometimes.

We have Operation in our study area. We have our own computer lab. We become good friends with each other. And seeing people in class today was a small sort of reunion.

So, for today, I think nursing is fun. I will check back tomorrow.

Jan 18, 2009

An Ode to Molly

I just got off the phone with one of my besties. Her name is Molly. She is really neat. She is going to Central America tomorrow morning for the semester. There is a high likelihood that I may not see her until August. I have rarely cried in a goodbye - but saying goodbye to Molly ties for first place with when I left the Clader's to move to Kansas.

We have talked every day of break, even if for five minutes to say hello and that we miss each other. I feel like it is typical to have friends for a season, that you get closer with some friends and some friendships fade with circumstances. However, if you are lucky enough, you have one, two, or maybe even more friends that are significant people in your life. I was fortunate enough to make one of those friends when I was very young, and I am convinced that Molly is a friend for life.

Molly is a beautiful person. She is humble, content, deep, intentional, hilarious, committed, unique. She makes me laugh a lot. When I am overly dramatic she laughs at me. She's realistic and rational. She cares deeply for people. She would go run on treadmills with me late at night, sing Kelly Clarkson, dance, then go to her room and eat applesauce with me. She listens well. One of the first things I noticed about her when we were becoming good friends was that she has an immense amount of wisdom. Molly is a beautiful person to be around because she seems to put you at ease because she is at ease with herself. She rests in the person she was made to be.

She is also extremely adorable.

I hope you have a friend like Molly. I think everyone needs a friend like Molly who loves you, grounds you, and enriches your life.

Here's to adventure Molly - go be Molly to all your friends waiting in Central America. Then come home and live down the hall or in the same room as me.

Jan 15, 2009

Bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb, bomb

First, click on the title of the post for some hilarity.

I generally enjoy airports. I usually enjoy flying. I even like turbulence. However, there have been some experiences in my flying home from Washington yesterday that made me sit back and question "what on earth was the appeal?"


Flight 1 (Pasco to Seattle - 6:30 A.M.)
The man who sat next to me was very kind. He immediately sat down and struck up a conversation. Great with me. Except - his voice was at a decibel that was a tad inappropriate for the inside of a 14 row plane at 6:30 in the morning. He also felt the need to repeat every answer I offered to his questions...whispered by me to be courteous to the fellow passengers. I was pretty sure everyone else didn't want to know that I lived in Kansas City, that it was supposedly 12 degrees there, that I am in nursing school, etc. Ah well, he eventually drifted off to sleep - have a great time in Honolulu sir.

Flight 2 (Seattle to Denver - 11:00 A.M.)
I had a three hour layover in Seattle. It was a highlight of my day. I ate a bagel and drank coffee and browsed the bookstore. I played solitaire and read my book. I tried to learn the words of Jay-Z's interlude on Coldplay's Lost+. About 40 minutes before my plane was supposed to board, I had my next encounter. The girl who sat next to me in the airport chairs tapped my arm and asked if I had a napkin. I responded "No I don't, I'm sorry" and went back to my book.

***It was at that point that I wondered if she meant a SANITARY napkin. You know, a feminine product. If that was the case, I wish she would have asked for that by name. Because when I hear napkin, I think what came with my bagel. Definitely used that already. End tangent.***

The time came to board the plane. I waited in line for them to call my row when a woman came up to me and asked "what row are they on?", clearly in a huff and agitated. I told her as they called my row and she launched herself in front of the line that had formed, placing herself in front of the man in front of me. I got a good look at her all brown outfit.

***It bothers me when people wear all the same color - in seriousness. It's one thing if it's all black to a funeral. That is an exception. It's one thing if you wear all yellow on Halloween to be a sun. But this woman was wearing all brown - for real. She had her brown dress pants tucked into her brown UGGs, her brown fuzzy leopard print vest over her brown sweater, topped it off with her brown leather hat. It annoyed me...along with her designer bag and gold metallic rolling duffel bag. I know, I need to get over it and stop judging people. End tangent.***

When we got on the jetway, the woman dropped her duffel in the middle of the floor and bent over it to dig through the bag. The man in front of me looked annoyed, so he tried to step around her. SHE MOVED SO HE COULDN'T. After finding her book after a minute or so of searching and viciously guarding her place in line, as if her seat would be taken if she lost her place in line, she zipped up her bag and continued on.

Guess who I sat next to on the plane?

She talked a lot, not to anyone in particular, but just to herself. She made a lot of calls on her iPhone about the stonework in the entryway and spraying the lilacs. She didn't open her book once on the plane, after all the searching through the bag.

She was in the stall next to me in the bathroom and behind me in the McDonald's line. She walked behind me to and from every place, clearly annoyed that I didn't walk fast enough for her but not slow enough for her to pass me. I may have enjoyed blocking her way a little too much. She somewhat hovered over my shoulder throughout the DIA airport. She didn't continue on with me to Kansas City. Oh well.

Side note - here's a question I came up with in DIA:
Are moving walkways intended for people to rest their feet and ride their way through an airport, or are they meant to provide a means to quickly get from one end of the airport to another?

I always assumed it was the latter, but if you were to be resting your feet, you were to stand on one side of the walkway and let those moving pass on your left. Sort of like driving.

Well, the three women on the moving walkway could not be moved. They stood their ground, shoulder to shoulder, throwing eye rolls to me as they carried their luggage with cherries and designer symbols. They may not have actually rolled their eyes. But they really didn't move to the right for me to pass. So the people outside the walkway actually got to the end of the airport more quickly than I.

The joys of flying. At least I wasn't on this plane - there's one thing for which to be thankful. Who knew geese could be so dangerous???

Jan 8, 2009

Until Next Time

Tomorrow I get on a plane, to get on another plane, to get on another plane, to get to a funeral.

I'm amazed by the way the Lord has worked in my life in the last year. I would venture to say I hit the lowest point of my 20 year life in 2008. And I experienced joy in new and glorious ways in the following months.

Part of my summer in Washington included my Great Grandma. I spent Monday mornings with Great Grandma Ryel and Grandma H. I always came away with funny stories, happy feelings, and a little sadness in watching a beautiful, strong woman deteriorate. I remember saying goodbye to her in August. She said "Where are you going?" and I said "Back to school in Kansas City."

She answered, "Well that's just awful."

I hoped I would see her again - when I visited in March. I wanted a few more stories to keep with me. I wanted her to criticize the size of my big toes, or to remark on the likeliness of my face with hers, or talk about her "animals" that lived off of butter and jam packets from the dining room.

But this weekend, I get on 3 planes to go to Washington to be at her funeral. She lived 93 years, the majority of them difficult, but she came out with grace and a lot of fire. She was sassy and feisty, and I grew to love her.

So off I go, to celebrate the life of Great Grandma Ryel. She will be missed.

Jan 6, 2009

spin on

I seem to be waiting for something. Specific things. Holding my breath until they happen.

But eventually you need oxygen right? And I am sick of waiting for something.

So...I don't know where that leaves me. Things to ponder on my upcoming trip, which will provide me with much waiting and traveling alone.

Until then - want to watch this with me?