Haha! Tricked you!

Ever since high school I have appeared to be younger than I am. I’ve made numerous people uncomfortable when they realized they just told a visiting 20 something year old woman walking the hallways of the church building to go to young womens (a church program for girls 12-17 years old), or were told by their JoAnn’s cashier on a Thursday morning, “No I don’t have classes today…No it isn’t a school holiday…what? No I’m not in highschool anymore.” When I was about 22 or so we had sister missionaries over for dinner and they thought my younger brother by 4 years was older than I was. I love seeing people’s reactions when they find out. Always surprise followed by awkward words to try to make up for their mistake as if trying to make me feel better about looking so young such as: “Oh! Don’t worry, you’re going to LOVE that when you’re older!” or, “Well, you’re lucky. You’re going to be carded well into your thirties” or whatnot. It’s really funny. I don’t need reassurance that I will love looking young when I’m old, because I loved looking young when I was young. To others I still appear to be younger than I am, but upon closer scrutiny you can see the fine lines and crinkles around my eyes and white hair growing in, but I seem to be the only one that sees it. The really fun awkward moments (like the above instances rather than someone just thinking I’m a few years younger than I am- which is a regular occurrence) are happening much less often, but I find they still occasionally pop up.

I must have a young sounding voice too, because I was making an appointment with a piano tuner over the phone yesterday and he didn’t ask me about when I’d be free, or home, or what my work schedule was, he asked if I had school in the mornings. Whenever stuff like that happens I kind of want to laugh and say, “haha! Tricked you!”

I went to a dinner and a church broadcast for women 18 and older last weekend and was sitting at a table with a few friends and a couple other women whom I didn’t know, but seemed to be maybe in their early 30’s (I’m a horrible judge of age myself) and young moms (one was pregnant). The pregnant lady was asking everybody’s names at our table and there were a couple younger girls sitting next to me and she asked if we were all freshmen. The first girl said no, she just graduated with a BA. They talked for a bit. She went on to the next girl who WAS a freshman. They talked for a bit. Then she looked at me and asked if I was a freshman too. I just smiled shook my head and said no. She said, “Oh, what…(slight pause here while she tried to figure out the rest of her question and finished with-) are you?” I told her I was nurse. That took her by surprise, and it took her a minute to recover and process what I said. My response probably wasn’t anywhere along the lines of what she was thinking because she seemed confused and was saying stuff like, “oh…so…you’re…” not really completing any sentence. Haha! Tricked you!

I could tell she wanted to ask how old I was, but she was too polite to do it. She finally got her next question out “But you go to the YSA ward right?” She seemed relieved when I told her I did. She was a very nice lady. I never hold it against anyone when they mistake my age, mostly because I think it’s funny, they already seem to be uncomfortable enough when they find out, and even though they wrongfully assumed something it’s not like it was an offensive assumption. They didn’t call me Mister, or ask when my baby was due. I’m not sure how much longer I can pull it off, but I have thoroughly enjoyed the discrepancy between my appearance and my age. I feel like my age is a secret to the world and it’s been fun messing with people without even doing anything.

Stoo

Yesterday I left my apartment in the morning and there was this stool just sitting there under my kitchen window in front of my door. It was still there when I got back and there it stayed all day and all night. I was going to take a picture of it, write a story about it and then move it to one of my neighbor’s doorways so they might enjoy its company as much as I had. I named it Stoo. I left this morning to run an errand, and Stoo was still there. It was still there when I got back. I went to dump my garbage a few minutes after returning and on my way back from the dumpster remembered that I had wanted to take a picture of my visiting stool. When I approached my doorway I found Stoo had disappeared. Must have been camera shy. It was a nice visit while it lasted.

Thoughts on snickerdoodles, dreams and NCMO

I’m trying to get rid of the excess parts of me. I have been keeping the things in my grocery cart healthy and go jogging/walking every morning and sometimes go for an additional walk in the evening. Then like an idiot on Monday I really wanted to bake something and made snicker doodles. I don’t know what I was thinking. Obviously I wasn’t because I added twice as much butter as I should have and when I mixed it all together and saw the greasy consistency I realized what I had done and had to double the recipe. Holy cow, I have way more snicker doodles than I was anticipating. I filled my cookie jar, filled a bag and froze it and had another smaller bag I left out. The smaller bag is gone and now I’m working on the jar. Somebody come save me because I am not strong enough to save myself.

My milk’s expiration date is today. Only once in the last 9-10 months of living by myself have I ever drank or used all of my milk before it turned bad- and I buy the smaller ½ gallon container. I like having it for when I want it, but I don’t want it that often. I just drank about 16 oz in order to prevent wasting it…and of course I had to have 2 snicker doodles to go with it!

It seems I’m not remembering my dreams as much as I used to, which is kind of sad. I have had some really interesting dreams, but the one’s I am able to remember lately are not nice. Last night I dreamt I was holding a little baby. Out of nowhere I’m suddenly in water about chest deep and I look at the baby and the level of the water was covering the baby’s mouth and nose. I immediately lifted it above the water and it was all blue. I did baby CPR and saved the baby but it scared the crap out of me and felt like it was my fault for not realizing I was holding the baby under water. It was horrible. It reminded me of another crappy dream I had in high school. I was hiding behind some bushes and watched a mother put her two kids in a big pit, gave them their favorite toys and then proceeded to bury them alive. The creepy feeling after I woke up from that one was so strong, I remember being afraid to drive myself in the dark to seminary that morning. Hopefully I’ll have happier dreams tonight.

In discussing NCMO with a friend, I have decided that everything about it makes me angry. It’s all bad. It doesn’t surprise me, but it really bothers me how common it is, even in LDS circles where standards are supposed to be high. I wish people would realize the world does not revolve around them and it is rude to risk someone else’s emotions for their own pleasure. Even if both parties are agreed that “it is what it is and nothing more,” is that the kind of person we want to be viewed as? A person with no self-control, who holds no meaning in meaningful things, and a liar? When it comes right down to it, people who participate in NCMO have no respect for themselves, or for their partners. I worry about NCMO participant’s future married relationships. What else is ok because it’s just fun? What else would the aim of their pleasure sacrifice? Would someone so apparently self-centered be able to easily consider the needs of their spouse above their own? I would never participate in an activity that would lead somebody that I am not interested in a potential or continuing relationship with to believe I was. It’s lying through action and not a kind thing for the other person to experience. I don’t know how people can be so unaware of other people, and how they must feel. Kisses are supposed to be special. How special are they if they are wasted on who ever just because one hasn’t kissed someone in a few months and they have a willing partner? They’re meaningless kisses. It’s not fair that a girl has to wonder whenever she’s kissed if the guy holds the same meaning in it she does since today kisses seem to mean nothing. I’m not saying a kiss has to mean everything, but it should at least mean I like you and want to continue pursuing a relationship. I seriously hope I am not alone in reserving my kisses for the times when they mean something.

Nothing important

Nothing important #1

My favorite month is only a few days away. Good things happen to me in April. I’m not sure if it‘s because I have the positive outlook that good things are going to happen because it’s April so they do, if they happen because I make them happen because it’s April and good things MUST happen, or if it’s because April just loves me. Either way, I love April. It’s my favorite month of the year.

Nothing important #2

I got a phone call from a girl asking for Brian awhile ago. This is not the first time I have received a phone call or text message for a person with this name. I informed her she had the wrong number to which she replied, “REALLY??”

I was thinking, “No, I’m sorry, I’m Brian. How may I help you?” Instead I told her that yes, she has the wrong number, this may have been Brian’s number before but it isn’t now. She came back with, “but I just spoke with Brian on this number yesterday. Is this 867-5309?” (She didn't really use this number, she said mine).

“Yes it is, area code 916?”

“Yeah…I must have misdialed…” Uhhhm, lady, I just told you the number you dialed was the number you got. I thoroughly expected her to call right back. She didn't.

Nothing important #4

My favorite wrong number story of all time was when I tried calling my grandma Onie probably about 8 years ago. I dialed the number and it was answered after a couple of rings by a “Hello?” and I jumped right in with “Hi Grandma, it’s Katie!” and she goes, “Hi Katie! How are you?” We had some usual start of phone greetings and she didn’t sound quite right, so I said…”orrrr, ARE you my grandma???”

And she said, “Well, I don’t know…who’s your grandma?” and I said, “Grandma Onie.”

“Oh, no. I’m Grandma Rose. But I DO have a granddaughter named Katie!”

We both laughed and I apologized for dialing the wrong number. Then I called my real grandma and told her what I just did and laughed with her too.

Nothing important #5

I had a knock at my door Friday evening. I wasn’t expecting anybody so I looked out my window and saw this young guy looking back at me. I figured he was going door to door selling newspaper subscriptions so he could pay for college- that’s who usually knocks on my door when I’m not expecting anybody. I went to my door and left it closed and locked and asked, “Who is it?”

“Uhh, I have a question for you.”

I thought, that DID NOT answer my question, and I am NOT buying a subscription to your newspaper, and I am NOT opening my door so you can refuse to willingly leave unless I buy a subscription making me feel bad that it’s my fault you will remain uneducated (that’s what happened with the last kid, I had to shut the door in his face because he wouldn’t stop after I told him no. I figured I just wouldn’t open the door at all this time). I responded with, “I don’t have any answers.”

It didn’t stop him from asking anyway. Still talking through the shut door, “uhhh, do you have any foil I can borrow? Like a little square piece of foil?...or a strip?...like, uhhh…”

Foil??? I told him yeah, I did, and to hang on a minute, which he did. I got a square piece of foil from my kitchen, went back to my door, opened it and handed it to him. He took it, thanked me, looked sheepish , then stuck his hand out and introduced himself and explained he needed something to wrap his burrito in. So random, but gosh dang it proper burrito wrapping can’t be neglected!

Nothing important #3

I just now realized in proof reading this post that I can't count, and am chronologically challenged.

Realizations

I realized today that I need:

1. Super glue.

2. To check my mailbox more often than every other week so my mail carrier doesn’t have to work so hard to jam all those ads in that little space.

3. An umbrella

4. More garbage bags

5. In person human contact. Facebook and phone calls don't cut it. I've been sick and haven’t left my apartment for 2 days (except to dump my garbage and check my mail a while ago- which was exciting). Being alone never really bothered me- probably because I’ve never had to be truly alone for any extended period of time, but I’m starting to see how solitude can lead to insanity. Last night I kept hearing these high pitched beeps and didn't know if it was in my head or my neighbor's apartment. Luckily they stopped.

What led you to your profession?

I had a person walk in today wanting to interview a nurse for a class she was taking or something. “Are you a nurse? I need to get through 5 questions”. Yep, I’m a nurse. I was busy but figured 5 questions couldn’t take that long and I didn’t want her taking up any of my other nurse’s time. She first asked me what led me to choose my profession. I told her I wanted a job that would allow me to be self-sufficient and would be something that I enjoyed learning about so I chose nursing. She looked at me blankly and said, “so… would you say helping people?” It was my turn to give her the blank look. ...Sure.

I would have liked to have taken more time to explain that helping people is just an added bonus, and my initial decision to go into nursing was 100% selfish (because I found it interesting for myself)- but I was busy and needing to get back to work and I honestly don’t think she understood much of what I had said so I didn't think it would help to repeat it. There may have been a language barrier. I still have no idea what she was trying to ask in one of her questions. I answered her after I made her rephrase it 3 times and I don’t even know if I answered it appropriately. I kept telling her I didn’t understand what she was asking. At the end of her 5 questions she wanted to know my position and I told her(after I had already told her earlier in the interview in response to the question of what kind of education and background a person needs for my job). Then she wanted to know how to spell it. I started out D-I-R… and then felt ridiculous, so I just gave her my card.

Best of luck to her in whatever she is endeavoring to do. I have no idea what she took away from that interview, because I'm still confused about some of it myself.

Random bits

Sometimes unexplainable things happen at my facility. We’ve had our expected fair share of resident’s die there. Despite the name skilled nursing facility and the excellent care we provide, people tend to die at the end of their life. It happens. Because of the death numbers and these unexplainable things (such as call lights going on when nobody is in the room or phantom call lights as we call them, charts placed appropriately on the shelf at the nursing station with no reason to fall landing on a nurse’s head while she was charting, a phone call being put on speaker when no buttons were pushed, items randomly being moved from one place to another spot that nobody would even think to put it hidden between other stuff, etc.) it is believed by many that we have ghosts. I for one love this idea. It’s fun, although for others it’s more creepy than fun. Today in our office something happened in which we blamed the ghost. I named him Barney. Then my co-worker told me that she was told there’s an application for the iphone that allows you to hear ghosts speak and she downloaded it. Turns out our Ghost’s name was not Barney after all. It was Daniel. Go figure. I guess ghost whisperer isn’t a skill I can include on my resume.

Once again, I quit candy. I feel flabby fat and lazy. Ever since I moved into my apartment my exercise habits went out the window and I’ve been stress eating sugar a whole lot more since the end of October. I put a stop to it today and successfully made it through my first day of sugar de-tox. So far so good, but there’s a good chance I may need to find a 12 step program to help me through it with or without a sponsor.

I don’t know why it is but the creepiest 8 legged critters tend to find their way into my dwelling space. I don’t like it. I hate killing them and I usually try to bargain telling them that if they cooperatively allow me to catch them I’ll release them unharmed outside. My kitchen still smells like RAID thanks to Bobby. He had a free ticket out the front door and the stubborn little bugger refused to come down to it. Perhaps he will now join Moe and Becky the black widow I killed in my living room a few months ago in spider heaven. May he rest in peace in my garbage can.

I am way ready for a hair cut. It’s grown out and has no style anymore and is not cute. I have no idea where to go to get this done. My preferred hair cutting source is an hour and 40 minutes away and works during the same hours I do.

I’m pretty forgetful lately, whether it’s plans I’ve made with someone, the day of the week, or whatever. I don’t recall having memory issues before, but I do remember a friend of mine telling me in highschool I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached. I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I can see how it applies now. It seems I always forget at least one thing whenever I leave my apartment. I always remember at some point what it was I forgot and I’m not sure if that’s less frustrating than never remembering. Sometimes I remember as I’m locking my door, other times I remember once I buckle up. The stinky times are when I remember as I’m turning onto the on ramp to the free way. Too late now! One day I returned to my apartment from my car for my forgotten cell phone, only to make it back to my car to remember I left my name badge on my table. I felt so retarded walking out to my car, back to my apartment, back to my car BACK to my apartment, then BACK to my car again. I was a few minutes late for work that day. I’m pretty sure dementia is going to be a familiar feeling for me when I get there.