Archive | March, 2012

Were You Born in a Barn?

31 Mar

Do you know what time it is?  Time for a major pet-peeve!  It’s been a little while since I’ve unleashed one.  And this particular problem was really pronounced this last week.  Here goes:

Both of my doctors are adament that the door between reception and the treatment area remains closed.  All doctors are.  This is mostly so the clients don’t spot the doctors and trap them in a long conversation, or catch them off guard.  Also, it’s so no cats escape from the back, and so the owners don’t see restraint or procedures.  It makes sense that the vets are all over this.  What doesn’t make sense is how neither of them seem to give a FUCK whether the surgery room doors are open.

The surgery room can never be too clean.  The surgery room is a place for cleanliness, as sterility needs to occur here.  You don’t want a bunch of people/house-cats (that are notorious for inappropriately urination) traipsing in and out, hair or nail clippings, grime or dirt in that room.  Even one open abdomen or orthopedic surgery gets compromised because of those things is completely inappropriate.  As such, staff (usually always me) has to scrub the walls, surfaces, and floor with bleach once a month at a minimum.  But more if we are using the room often or if it is compromised in some way.

Firstly, I get annoyed, because pretty much everyone, leaves the door open.  Also, our tech has made the surgery room her personal office so not only will she sit in there, she eats in there (a big no no), and she’ll prop open both doors while she’s in there–and when she isn’t.  The biggest headache though, the one that makes me positively IRATE is when the vet (you can guess which one) puts a God-damned chicken in there.  She will put a bird (in a carry crate) with all the bedding, feathers, seed/food, and poop in that room.  And inevitably little pieces will spill out of the kennel.  Also, the birds can make a room smell.  Sometimes (like last week) she’ll put one in there immediately after I’ve already scrubbed the walls/floors/surfaces.

I think that is really 1) dumb, considering she of all people should know that the surgery room is a place to minimize contamination. 2)  Inconsiderate, since she NEVER cleans in there–not even a quick sweep after the bird mess.  And especially not in a timely fashion if the quick sweep does occur.  3)  Hypocritical, because I KNOW she would be the first one to chew my a$$ if we had some emergency surgery to do and the surgery room was a flippin mess at the time.

And to wrap this pet-peeve up, you would think someone would lay down the law if a culture plate grew up something from the surgery room (but nowhere else). . .

Who Wants a MORE Difficult Exam?

30 Mar

Well, I guess I do.

I NEVER once felt this way in undergrad.  If a test was easier than I had anticipated, I was mostly thankful.  But to be fair, I never had adequate preperation time in undergrad.  I ALWAYS had to work at Noah’s Ark so much extra that attending all my classes and their associated labs was a feat in itself.  Studying or reading were, well, brief.  To say the least.  But now?  I HAVE to make time.  There’s a lot at stake, and I am determined not to put work first and repeat those patterns, only to end up.  Here again.

I have to say I was a little. . .  Mad(?) when I saw Exam #2.  It was just. . .  easy, simple, abridged.  Our instructor had handed us 3 pages (front and back) the class session before the exam and told us to know them (at the last minute!).  So I learned them to the point I could write out the pages from memory–just as she had typed them.  Plus, all the other info from exam 1 (all our exams are comprehensive) and the class notes that were supposed to be tested.

And this was no easy feat–especially with my work schedule.  I was kept at work, sometimes scrubbing walls because there were slow moments/hours.  I suspect our bitchy receptionist manipulated the schedule in order to keep me at work (Saturday, Tuesday afternoon and evening and late on Wednesday), but I guess that’s a story for another post.   We had the vet that makes me crazy too, and there are many posts stemming from that to come.

I was waking up at 5 AM and studying up until it was time to get ready for work.  I would come home from stressful days at work.  And Study.  Which is the last thing I like to do after a hard day.  I had to forgo my normal Wii-Fit routine, which I hated.  I missed out on Sunday’s beautiful 65 degree weather, because I had to be inside studying.  I missed out on ANY fun on my half day and the entire morning off from work was spent.  Studying.  You get the picture–I worked hard.

So when the exam had 5 short blanks that said something like, give one piece of info for each stage, when just one stage looked something like this:

Stage 5–> 10 mo & up–> jargon w/intonation, rhythm, and pausing–> vocoids (vowel-like segments)–>13-14 mo–>/E, I, ^/–> contoids (consonant-like segmants)–> /b,t,d,g,m,h,w/

You can see that’s at least seven pieces of info.  Add four more stages and you can see how much info was NOT tested.  And that was just one page of information, not included in the 3 last minute pages.  Well, you can see why I’m annoyed that I wasted time learning it when any fool could guess the correct answer.

Don’t get my wrong, I’m glad I know all the info on the exam, because I WANT the A+ in this class–I just wish I could un-do some of my studying.  You just can’t get that time/stress/annoyance with work/brain-space back.  Sigh–can I EVER catch a break?  Either I’m under-prepared and bomb tests (one of the WORST feelings in the world) or I study enough and the test turns out to be. . .  Easy.

Obligatory Hiatus

22 Mar

I am stressed!  And I was all day–poor Cool.  And it was her happiest mood of the year.  No kidding, she keeps track of these things.  I did not rest well last night, and when I did manage to sleep it was all horror-dreams about horrid work days.

I have an exam next Thursday, a stressful next four days at work with Dr. Noncommunication (maybe this will be the nickname I settle on?), and a big semester project due very soon.  Not to mention EVERY person at work going on vacation next month, meaning I have to forgo normal time off–there will be a blog-pause.

Even though I have a ton of great ideas in que.  We’re talking one about a pet-peeve, some scholarship starts, a great idea, and even some physics.  BUT I really cannot waste ANY time.  It’s sleep, hygiene, food, work, studying, and other neccessary pursuits only for me.  For an unknown amount of time.  However long it takes to get that A+ in school, keep my job (and make loads of extra cash), and hopefully sleep.

So look up some history, click on the tag-cloud, do a search.  There are over 500 past posts to keep you busy while I’m buckling down hard-core.  I’ll be back as soon as I’m not insane.

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21 Mar

Here’s a short and funny story about grammar and Facebook:  I wrote the title of this post (exactly as written) as a status update on Facebook.  Since I meant Cool, (as in my mate) got a job, I guess I should have included a comma.  And I suppose the all-caps was deceiving.  Cool looked like a superlative instead of a name.

People misconstrued what I said.  And I really got inundated with well-wishes.  People thinking I had gotten a job, apparently.  Even though my Facebook clearly says where I am employed (and have been since 10/10/10).  I’m not certain where people think I’m working now that I got this “job.”  I didn’t get in to vet school–that’s pretty evident from my updates–and even if I had it would have been four years until I would have gotten a job.  And I have most certainly not been unemployed all this time.  And if I was–let me tell you, my Facebook friends would have heard  a LOT  about that!

It just makes it all the more obvious that Facebook friends aren’t actual friends.  It’s nice that they wish me well–but they are SO out of touch with what’s actually going on with me.  If they really knew me they would be just as happy, because Cool, (empahsis on capital C for proper noun on comma) got a job!!!!!!!  She was unemployed for less then a week.  And this new job is not call-center work that she hates and that makes her super-anxious.  It isn’t customer service either.  It’s stalking shelves.  So she can be low-stress and get buffed out too.

I suspect it’s “the finger” (of God) at work.  I came home for my half day and Cool wasn’t here.  There had been no prior plans so I didn’t know what the eff.  I guess the job called her TODAY, interviewed her TODAY, and hired her TODAY.and she’s been unemployed.  It was awesome, because, truly, Cool and I were going to be absolutely screwed if she was without an income for long.  She would have had to move in with her Mommy to pay her bills.  MY bills would have doubled, and I would not have been able to continue with school.  It would have been the end of US.  So I’m glad things worked out.  And fast.

Run Away from Obese Bird Horder

20 Mar

I had a really random dream last night:

Cool and I were walking, and ended up in this really sketchy part of town that I am afraid of.  This part of town has shown up repeatedly in my dreams, and only since we moved to Spokane.  I think it must represent Spokane or maybe be a real place I saw once in Spokane.  Don’t get me wrong, Spokane is beautiful, but I have mixed feelings about it, because everywhere you go, you can see the economic struggle.  The trains tracks are all graffitied-up.  It’s hard to go even into a nice part of town without seeing a dilapidated house, boarded-up business, or remnants of a fire.  There is litter on streets, homeless and meth-ed out people about, and grubby kids anywhere.  Anyway, the dream place induces fear and paranoia.

We were walking fast trying to get through there and somehow (I don’t know

why) ended up sneaking into some horder’s house.  Maybe we had to go in to escape something/someone outside?  I don’t remember.  Anyway, It was an obese guy with a bunch of dark-colored birds.  I didn’t actually SEE the birds, but knew they were there (and large, dark in color).  And there was dust, seed, pieces of bedding, and feather bits everywhere.  I couldn’t breathe that well.

Almost as soon as Cool and I were inside (in a hallway when the obese home/bird owner was in the living room with door separating us) some real-estate lady (wearing a red suit jacket) or someone like that knocked on the door wanting a tour.  There was urgency as we knew we couldn’t get caught inside the horder’s house.

Cool and I were desperately trying to get out undetected, but we had to go out a different way then we had come in, since the guy and the lady’s tour started at the front door, and was getting progressively closer to where we were.  I was really scared, just of getting caught I guess.

We had to crawl out of some windows near the floor, and it felt all slow first crawling, then waiting for Cool to do the same.  There were 2 different windows.  When we got to the third, I could see the sidewalk of the sketchy street, and our final exit from the house.  But this window was small, and the obese guy and touring lady were RIGHT behind us, so we didn’t have time to take turns crawling.  And then some punk walking down the street saw us trying to open the window and crawl out and held it shut–just to be an a$$hole.

Luckily, there was a really small, window higher up, next to the window on the floor.  I was able to reach out and grab the “funny” guy’s sleeve and pull him toward me and away from the lower window allowing Cool to crawl out.  Then, the joker began crawling through the upper window toward me.  I hadn’t realized anyone could get through that one, and still had to escape the house before obese guy saw me in it, so I shoved the punk back through to the street and started climbling out telling him, “thank you, how can I ever thank you?”  And of course, this street hooligan assumed I was offering sexual favors, which I was not.

But before we had time to straighten it out, obese guy got into that particular room, saw the open windows and saw the street guy.  They began fighting each other and Cool and I ran, ran, ran.  I woke up coughing (from the bird dander?) and really frightened.

Abortion and Gun-Control are the SAME Issue

19 Mar

So why are the political ideologies behind both ideas opposing?

Gun Control:  Democrats are for it.  They see that guns cause unnecessary death and violence and so want to ban them entirely.

Anti-Abortion Legislation:   Republicans are for it.  They see murder of fetuses as unnecessary death and violence and so want to ban it.

Gun Control:  The republicans oppose it, because they don’t want big government regulating their every move.  Republicans want to make their own protection decisions, and do not generally advocate murder or crime.  Republicans who want to keep their guns blame individuals for gun violence–not the gun itself.  Guns don’t kill–people kill.

Anti-Abortion Legislation:  The Democrats oppose it because they don’t want big government to impede their personal rights and freedoms.  Democrats want to make their own personal child-bearing decisions, and do not advocate murder of children/babies/fetuses.  Democrats want to keep their reproductive decisions for themselves.  Sure, some individual women make poor decisions, but women’s rights as a whole are at stake.

Do you see how the issues are similar, but the party ideology is opposing?  In the advocating viewpoint, the party sees a problem of unnecessary violence and murder and wants legislation to control it.  In the opposing viewpoints, each respective party doesn’t want government intervention over individual freedom.  Really, if you oppose/support one issue, you should feel the same about the other issue.


18 Mar

I don’t want to gross anyone out, but I’m wondering if this happens to anyone else:  I always know when I’m about to menstruate, because I get bleedy.  I’m not talking about “down there.”  But my gums will bleed when I floss.  If I get a cat scratch–which happens frequently for me–it will really gush blood and maybe even make a nasty scar.  If I pick at my face (I know this post is turning into all kinds of gross TMI) it will bleed.

Does this happen to anyone else out there?  I ALWAYS know when I’m about to start my period because the regular scratches I get at work will suddenly look horrible and bloody and scar my hands and wrists–whereas normally they do not.

I guess it’s because whatever hormone or enzyme that helps the lining of the uterus slough also gets into the rest of my body?  Maybe my blood is thinner during this time of my cycle?  I’m not entirely certain since this really isn’t a topic I broach on a daily or monthly basis.  I hope this post doesn’t make me sound ignorant of normal female bodily functions.  Just an observation, I guess.

“Rape is JUST About Sex”

17 Mar

I have encountered trolls on feminist blogs that say rape is simply about sex.  They refuse to believe rape is about power, control, aggression, and patriarchy.  I challenge, that if rape is truely about sex then the places that have legalized prostitution should have lower rates of rape.  Because by all intensive purposes, no one should have to force sex, because they can just buy it.

My home state of Nevada, for instance, has legal brothels that “sell” sex.  Yet, Nevada’s rape rate is consistently higher than the national rate.  The large counties (cities within include Las Vegas, Reno, Sparks, & Carson City) in Nevada disallow prostitution, but many of the more rural counties have legalized it for economic reasons.

“Among the rural counties in the state, those with legalized prostitution have rape rates in 2007 that are over 5 times larger than rural counties without legalized prostitution. The average rape rate in rural counties with legalized prostitution (46 per 100,000 population) is also higher than rape rates in the urban counties within the state (42 per 100,000 population).”

Click to access Rape%20in%20Nevada%20v4.pdf

Let’s not even go into the situation in Asian countries such as Thailand, where prostitution is prevalent.  I think we can all recognize women (transsexuals) are not treated with respect there and rape is a massive problem.

Don’t get me wrong–I think legalized prostitution is the best way.  Those women are STD tested regularly, they have regulations that condoms must be used, they are safer then females working the streets, and the ranches pay the women really, really nice wages.

My mom had a student bring his mom’s W2 in for show and tell and the women at the Moundhouse brothels garner wages that exponentially exceed a teacher’s salary.  And the prostitute I knew lived on the Arnold Palmer Golf Course, drove a BMW, and had three pure-bred Bengals as well as a prominently displayed boob-job pic of herself on her fridge.  The Moonlight BunnyRanch gals are not hurting for money–that’s for sure.

And who am I to say they shouldn’t pursue that line of work.  If the women end up there (b/c NObody WANTS to become a prostitute) they have the right to stay there if it is profitable for them and if they can live with it.  I think the problem lies with the men who support those businesses.  The women wouldn’t do it if there was no money in it (and if they didn’t have other emotional, self-esteem, or addiction problems).  Society should look down at the men who go into brothels, pay for sex illegally, or rape women to get sex.  That is the problem.  And it’s a societal one.

I Need a Rich Uncle

16 Mar

OK, I have a couple of well-off family members, but not in my immediate family. And none very close to me.  The maternal side of the family is fractured with undiagnosed mental illness and general dysfunctional behavior.  My mom’s brother is a line-man and does very well for his family.  When I was growing up, they built a new house every year, had speed boats with skis, went through a auto racing phase, and always entertained and partied.  But his daughters are the cousins that weren’t allowed to play with me because I wore hand-me-downs (I was under 4 years old for God’s sake).  Anyway, both cousins are married and in their upper-20s now, and he still pays their rent/mortgage AND an allowance.  My other well-off relative is my (favorite) grandmother’s sister in Alaska.  She married rich, but has a bunch of grand-kids she just adores, so I’m not even on her radar.  They are not sharing any of it with me–let’s put it that way.

I just did my finances and need to work a minimum of 30 hours a week next fall to pay my undergrad loans, rent & utilities, insurance–you know everything I can’t get out of.  I was supposed to go part-time so I could take classes AND actually have time to study for the classes.

It’s frustrating, because lack of funds means not only will that slow my school progress, it will impede that studying. I need straight As this time. I feel like I shouldn’t bother paying for a class if I don’t have time to study for the A.  It’s such a waste–and I’ve been down that road before.  And I didn’t even count tuition, books, or other school expenses.

It makes me feel hopeless and frustrated that I can’t get into my new career because of economic reasons. To get federal student loans, I would have to take 12 credits. But the loans cover ONLY school–no living expenses until graduate school. And I need the pre-requisites to even apply for any graduate or doctorate program where I could get school funding + living expenses.  And to get a private loan–I need a co-signer. And I think we all remember what happened with Saint George’s Veterinary School and my having to walk way for lack of funds. . .

Maybe I’ll go back to my hometown over the summer and work at the Moonlight Bunny Ranch to generate funds. Prostitution sounds like my only feesable option at this point. Either that or take just ONE class this fall and apply for every scholarship that will give money to part time students (not many). Sad.

Plus, yesterday Cool got fired from her job so that creates a whole other set of financial problems.  More on this later.

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My Interpretation of “Yoke”

15 Mar

refer to the last entry for a line by line analysis of Amy Ray’s lyrics.

Amy Ray is addressing someone deceitful and closed off.  I think the someone represents all of us listeners’ dark, non-caring side.  She mentions a “she” that (I think) could be interpreted a couple of ways (or even both ways).  The “she” is nature/environment/Earth/all living creatures or the “she” could be a loving, yet naive woman in a relationship.

The main message of the song is even though it isn’t in our past history, and it may be difficult for our psyche, people need to work together, be open, and loving or “she” will be destroyed.  Depending on the listener, the “she” is different and so are the implications.  If “she” is the environment, being bad and taking advantage of her will result in Earth’s destruction and the ultimate annihilation of humankind as well.  If the person listening to the songs thinks of “she” as a woman in a relationship, trying to play upon her helplessness in order to control her will result in eventual loneliness.

Amy is telling us we are here to figure out how to overcome our greed and deceptive core to appreciate what we have, treat the “she” in our lives with openness and honesty, and return her love.  If we succeed in working together, loving one-another without manipulation and not as a means of controlling another; and if we love the beauty of the animal kingdom and land, instead of over-hunting and over-consuming them–we will reach a higher plane.

In short, the song sounds so forlorn because Amy is asking all of us to stop carelessly and thoughtlessly grasping everything of our hearts desire.  She is saying going after everything we want has consequences for loving relationships and at a higher level, our planet.  She is imploring us to yoke together like oxen in a herd of hope and hold tightly (with grubby hands) to what we already have.