A sigh of relief

I found out today that my final video project for Surgical Prep & Assistance 3 passed. I can't say exactly how relieved I am. It was a 90 minute video of me checking in a surgical patient, performing a physical exam, discussing anesthetic agents, pain management, stages & plane of anesthetic depth, going over the parts & function of anesthetic equipment. Oh, yeah, and placing an IV catheter, performing a surgical shave & prep, inducing & intubating a patient, cleaning & maintaining all aspects of surgical equipment, demonstrating a sterile scrub, going over suture materials & patterns, etc., etc., etc. Talking & showing with a camera on me, and with no notes of any kind. It was a matter of learning the material, then writing a script, scheduling time for filming, executing the tasks at hand, and the entire project was pass/fail.

Did you read that right? Nine different task categories, separated into 4-7 sub-tasks each, and the whole of it PASS-FRICKIN'-FAIL! Meaning that despite my ace-ing Levels 1 & 2, and ace-ing all the written material in the class this semester, and having checked off all my clinical tasks at the practice, I could have failed the entire class if even a small portion of my video was deemed inadequate. To say the least, it was a really stressful semester.

But I passed; nay, my instructor Dr. Badass (I mean, Dr. Black, respectfully) even pointed out that I was very thorough in my execution and explanations. Which I'm taking to mean I didn't merely pass, but excelled.

'Cause I'm a veterinary medicine rock star, y'all. Oh, yeah, am I feelin' it.

Now, on to Food Animal Management & Advanced Anatomy. Then I have to find some horses, apply a tail twitch, draw some blood, & clean the sheath. (And, in case you are wondering, that means what you think).

Peace,
C.

Clowns and Tragedy

I found out that another former co-worker of mine (from Starbucks, this time), has passed away unexpectedly. He was most recently the manager of the Starbucks near my practice, so I saw him on a semi-regular basis. The day before I found out, I went in that Starbucks for a quick early-morning cuppa, and I do remember thinking it was weird that he wasn't there. But I figured that maybe he was just on vacation.

I recall working one night with Mark at the Wrigleyville store. Mark was one of those upbeat people, sometimes annoyingly so, but I knew by then that a lot of strife lay beneath that persona. Opera was playing on our sound system. I think I commented on one of the arias, bragging about my season tickets to the Lyric, wanting to sound so sophisticated & worldly, so much more so then the milk-stained green apron I was donning would imply. Then I thought out loud that another piece sounded like it was from La Traviata.

"Oh, no," Mark said, "This is I Pagliacci. The tragic clown." Then he talked about the opera itself, the particular production, the tenor, the history of the piece and other pieces by the composer. I was impressed, and a little embarrassed at just how little I knew, and by my presumption that he would not.

I saw I Pagliacci this past spring. It was fantastic, and I wish I had taken a minute to talk with Mark about it. It would have been a lively discussion; I can hear, in my head, his booming voice and boisterous laugh.

The tragic clown. Ironic, Mark, given the circumstances of your passing, (too sorrowful for me to state here)that I will now always associate that image with you.

-C.

Glad I was there...

I was in the middle of my fifth hour of overtime this Saturday when a client was talking to me about her dog. She & her husband had recently adopted him from a local rescue, and she was peppering me with questions about diet, nail trimming, behavior. She looked down at her scruffy little mutt, who looked up at her and licked her hand. She had never had a pet before, she said.

"And I had no idea how much joy he could bring into our lives."

Then she smiled a big beautiful smile. Her eyes were lit from the inside, and I smiled back at her, knowing exactly what she meant.

Thank God for moments like that. Really. Thank you, God.

-C.

Big Ups, Big Downs

I saw Mikhail Baryshnikov dance last night. At 62, he is still amazing. The venue was fabulous, the seats were excellent, the company lovely, thank you very much. I got a free glass of red wine & some grapes and brie to boot. I would love to wax poetic about what a sublime experience it was, because it really was, it really, truly was, but this week has been bogged down by bad news. An old friend of mine, who I once worked with as a vet assistant but recently lost touch with, has died.

She was 5 weeks away from turning 33.

The news just took the wind right out of me. She will never eat avocados again, or rock out to 80s punk, or take great care of sick doggies, or have a baby boy to name Diego, or any of the other things that she loved, loved, loved with such uninhibited passion that it makes it even harder to believe that she is gone. How can someone so young, and so full of life, just not be here any more?

I've lived long enough to know that it's pointless to look for sense where there is none, but God, the knowing of that doesn't ease the sting. I just hope that the spirits of all puppies and kitties that she cared for in this world enveloped her in her final moments, leading her soul to a peaceful place.

Goodbye, Michelle. You were so loved.

-C.

Culinary Observations

1. While I never really crave steamed veggies, once I start eating them I really, really enjoy them. The same is true of writing and going out when it is cold.

2. I follow the 3-second rule in my house. Well, more like a 5-second rule.

3. I once forgot to put the flour in my oatmeal cookie batter before I baked it. Despite the fact that it was a gelatinous mess, it nonetheless made a delicious dessert when topped with French vanilla ice cream. Proof that most mistakes can be turned around if you are creative about it. (And also, that ice cream can fix just about anything).

4. As with wine, there is a coffee, a tea, and a beer to go with just about any cuisine. And as with wine, coffee, tea, and beer, it matters less that it is "right" one than it be one that you enjoy. So if you want Folger's instead of espresso, or your red wine on the rocks with your fish, knock yourself out.

6. That said, you should try an espresso at least once before committing to your Folgers, and try the red wine at the proper temperature before you insist they bring you a glass of ice. Reserving final judgment until other points of view are examined is just good sense. (And please, just admit that a chocolate martini is not a REAL martini).

7. Don't be too committed to your likes and dislikes. I didn't eat salad before I was 14, didn't like broccoli until I was 22, or eat hard-boiled eggs until I was 34. Last year I tried Brussels sprouts again and love them. Giving things a second (or third) chance keeps that door open to new experiences.

8. If there is such a thing as too much garlic, I haven't gotten there yet.

-C.

Stargazing

I went to see "Stars of the Lyric Opera" at Millennium Park Friday night. Once a year, the Lyric parades out a few of their featured singers of the season with their orchestra in this free-to-the-public concert downtown. It used to be at the Grant Park venue, but since the opening of Millennium Park in '02 they have performed at the far superior Pritzker Pavillion. These concerts are always super-crowded, but I attend virtually every year. I've had season tickets to the Lyric for several seasons now, but there was a time in the not-too-recent past (Remember Bennigan's? I try not to.) when all I could afford was a free concert in a park. A big part of what brought me to Chicago was what it offered to me in the realm of the arts, and watching and listening to singers like Renee Fleming and Ben Heppner in the fresh air, grass under my toes, surrounded by a few thousand fellow Chicagoans, helped tide me over to the time when I could afford a ticket to the real deal.

I was sitting, this past Friday, on the Great Lawn of the Pritzker, under a massive metal lattice that holds the sound system, listening to excerpts from "The Barber of Seville" (one of my favorites!) and "Tosca" (which I'll get to see in November). A couple of my friends had joined me. The lawn was not too damp, and the chill in the air present but not overwhelming. At one point, as a duet from "La Boheme" rose from the stage & filled the air with the achingly sweet sounds of Mimi & Rodolfo's doomed love, I looked up at the sky, and a thought occurred to me.

I'm just about done with this place.

Because, at that moment, it wasn't the Chicago skyline I wanted to see. I've spent countless moments looking up from downtown and seeing the magnificence of the Aon Center, the Hancock Building, that curvy Streeterville high-rise whose proper name I can't ever remember (but I do know that there, a 450 square foot condo costs 1.5 million dollars), and now Trump Tower cutting its own way through that swath of steel and glass. At that moment, with Puccini's brilliance swimming through my ears, I wanted to look up and gaze at the stars, to take in the glory of the heavens, not the swaggering of man's puny creations. And do you know how many stars I could see from my spot on the Great Lawn of the Pritzker Pavillion in downtown Chicago at 9 o'clock at night?

Three. Just three. The city lights, well, they just drown them out.

I'm about ready. I've been there, done that, bought the T-shirt, got the autograph. I am just about ready to take this, all of this, the memories of concerts and ball games and cab rides and broken hearts, of museums, parks, street fairs, Lake Shore Drive, of dreams that died, dreams that rest, dreams that awoke in me new as babes, of boats and green river water and the bridges, the bridges that rose, that fell, that burned oh so bright as I lit them behind me, and carry it all with me somewhere else.

Some place where I can look up at the night sky and, without straining, take in the stars.

-C.

Restless

Feeling a little restless as of late. I think it's in large part because of school starting in two weeks. If things had gone as planned, I would be graduating at the end of this semester. But life happened, things changed. Some of it beyond my control, some of it by my saying that a compromise was worth the making. And I feel that I'm on the right track. I still love what I do and still feel like I make a positive contribution to my patients' lives.

And then there is the part of me that could walk away from veterinary medicine. Forever. The part of me that is tired of dealing with sickness, of navigating workplace egos, of continually acknowledging that however positive my contribution is, it is still a small one in the grand scheme of things. And there is another part of me that sees that I could always be doing something different, finding new challenges in other fields, trying on a new life and seeing how it fits. That restlessness keeps me moving forward and motivates me to explore new possibilities, and I've considered it a good quality to have.

But it makes it very hard for me to sit still and focus. I guess that's the price you pay for curiosity.

-C.

Still Here

Yeah, I've not been on top of this blog as late. Seems like when I have time, there isn't much of interest to report (I mean, my diabetic cat's fructosamine levels and urine glucose just isn't that exciting even to other vet folk; he's doing very well, BTW), or if something's going on I'm just too engaged to stop and take note of it all here. I manage to update my Facebook status daily (sort of my mini-blog, i.e. "(I) remember the time before email", "(I) bought a new pair of Crocs today
", etc. I am keeping reasonably on top of the photo blog; I do take a daily picture, but usually cannot post daily.

Some highlights of the summer:

-I'm down to one job. (See previous related post). It's been lovely. I've spent time with friends, watched movies & shows on DVD, crocheted, learned to knit (not very well), gone to restaurants and festivals and plays and just RELAXED, something that has been more and more difficult with the past several years' blitz of double-jobbing with school part-time. And because I eliminated my debt (see other previous related post), the finances have been well-cushioned against the loss of second-job income. I'll look into getting some part-time work in the fall (maybe at the new vet emergency practice opening soon).

-I took advantage of my downtime by enrolling in an intensive one-day only writing workshop at the Stage Left Theatre company, taught by my playwright friend Margaret. A group of writers got together in the early morning, did several writing exercises, each created a scene, and then turned them over to actors & 2 directors for rehearsal & performance that night. The experience was exactly what I needed. Often, I find myself discouraged when I write, because things are never as perfect as they are in my head. Here at this workshop I didn't have time for self-doubt. And it reminded me just how much I love and miss the collaborative nature of theatre. It's amazing to bear witness to a group of professionals coming together to create something bigger than the sum of its parts. Now, on to fitting this life in with the day job...

-I signed up for Zipcar. For a low annual fee, plus a variable hourly rate, I have access to cars around Chicago. I've lived without my own car for the entire time I've lived here, and I have no interest in carrying that burden. But there are times when a car is very useful, and if I am going to do time at a large-animal practice (required by my school), then I'll need access to a car to hike out to the western suburbs where these practices are located. For now, I'm just getting used to making short trips (say, to PetsMart for cat litter, or Trader Joe's for groceries), until I can get some friend of mine to help me navigate that most evil of evils, the tollways. Any takers? Oh, yeah, and where are the hazard lights in cars these days? Things are very different since I drove my '79 AMC Concord...

-School resumes in three weeks. Surgery Prep & Assistance, Level 3, which I'm taking for the second time. I'm nervous because this is the hardest course I'd taken (hence, the repeating of it). Wish me luck, as I'd hate like hell to get stuck here.

Life is good here, hope it is on your ends, loyal reader(s).

-C.

Habits

List of things I feel compelled to do every single day:

1. Journal (3 pages in the A.M.-usually takes place on the train/bus)

2. Drink coffee.

3. Eat a banana.

4. Go for a walk.

5. Crochet. (Or knit.)

6. Do a sudoku.

7. Refill my Brita pitcher.

8. Check my friends' blogs.

9. Take a picture for my "Year in Pictures" blog.

10. Update my Facebook status.

Are there 10 things you have to do every day?

-C.

Catching Up on Rest

I've meant to sit at this blog more often, and now I've actually got the time. But I'm finding myself busy with rest and relaxation-visiting with friends, enjoying the summer, watching old TV shows. And crochet. Lots and lots of crochet.

I'm around, and I'm resting. Hope you are enjoying some free time, too.

-C.

Notice

I gave notice to the green apron company. My last day was going to be this coming Thursday, but they found a transfer from the 'burbs and didn't really need me, so my last day is tomorrow. I've been wanting to write something about this latest move of mine, but I'm still punching two clocks and I'm just so tired that I'm finding myself with little energy to devote to things like this blog. That's a big part of why I'm leaving.

I'm not currently enrolled in school, and soon I will be working one full-time job and that's it. I'll be back here to write more, as I will have the time to go with my motivation.

After I get some good sleep in, of course. Goddamn, but I deserve it.

-C.

Life, Sans Rodents.

I euthanized my rat Giggle today. She had mammary tumors, very common in female rats. She developed them about 6 weeks ago, and I gave her anti-biotics and anti-inflammatory meds to help stave it off. But I knew she wouldn't last much longer; in fact, she held out longer than I would have guessed. Cancer is pretty aggressive in rats.

I think that she will be my last rodent pet. They don't live very long, and they aren't as easy to treat as cats and dogs when they are ill. Frankly, I'm looking forward to not having to clean cages on top of scooping litter boxes, too. But I'll miss Giggle. She was a good rat.

Not much else to say about that.

-C.

Happy, indeed.

Today is my birthday. I know this because Facebook reminded me that today was my birthday, and also because the Secretary of State of Illinois sent me a letter telling me that my driver's license would have to be renewed. It isn't likely that I would forget my birthday (I never have before) but still, it doesn't hurt to have a reminder here & there.

I requested the day off & got it. (Unpaid, of course, but sometimes time is better than money & more on that subject later). I woke up at 5:15 a.m. to the sounds of Chicago Public Radio, smiled, then slept for a few more hours. I made it to the DMV shortly after it opened and was blessed with a series of very short waits. I passed my eye test (barely-I need new contacts but since I only drive about 4 times a year I'm not worried and neither should you be). The man behind the counter asked if I was still at the same height & weight. I told him to add twenty pounds to the old figure, with a laugh. That number is still not accurate but I figure that I'm a voting, tax-paying, law-abiding citizen so this really is the only time I give my government the finger and screw 'em if they can't take a joke. The picture on my renewed license is pretty bad, but I'm comfortable enough in my hot-babeness to blow it off. I take comfort over vanity these days, and that is the gift of being in my officially late-30s.

I drank some great coffee and decided to forgo an over-priced steak burger (my original lunch plans) in favor of cheap Cajun in Evanston. As I trekked to my bus stop I noticed that there were blooming lilac bushes behind the shield. Lilacs are one of my favorites; in color and in fragrance they have no match. I whipped out my camera and snapped some pictures, and noted more blooming lilacs as the bus took me up Sheridan Road to Howard, as the Purple Line dropped me off on Davis Street in Evanston. I shopped for books and ate gumbo on Church Street with the scent of them in my hair. I was blessed with even more visions of lavender and violet as the Purple Line took me back to Howard, and as the Red Line carried me into downtown Chicago, past the Loop, into a diner where a friend awaited me with cake and hugs. I saw more delicate blooms as I trekked into Andersonville, shopped some more, met with another friend, walked the mile home. I'm uploading some of the pictures now, for my photo blog, and I am leaving a window open tonight as I sleep; I hope that the scent fills my nose in my slumber, slipping into my dreams as I rest and ready myself for another week of challenge and change.

Happy birthday. Indeed.

-C.

Not There Yet

So in my rush to get my debt paid off, I called American Express to get the most current balance & mailed the check ahead of time, rather than wait for my statement to arrive. I had the cash, so why wait?

Alas, though the check was indeed in the mail, it wasn't fast enough. The billing cycle turned and I was charged interest. I now owe American Express...$1.98. Then I will be officially debt-free.

My friend R. said that I should write the check for $2, then ask for a $.02 refund. I'm considering it.

-C.

Ode to a Mouse (part deux)

I euthanized my other mouse, Mischief, today. Starting with her cagemate, Oops!, a few months ago, I've said goodbye to all of my rodent pets except for one. It's been a rough go, and the last rodent standing (Giggle the rat) has developed problems of her own. Her days are numbered.

Mischief was a great mouse. She was mostly black, and the black became gray on her belly and muzzle as she got older. When her Oops! became sick and was having difficulty moving from her bed inside a plastic igloo to the food dish just outside it, Mischief took food out of the dish and ran it to the igloo so that Oops! could eat. Maybe I'm over-anthropomorphizing here, but I was really touched by what appeared to me to be concern and generosity from one creature to another.

It reinforces my theory that the littlest creatures get it right sometimes, maybe more often then the bipeds with the brains. Peace, Mischief. You were a way cool mousie.

-C.

Worthwhile

All the hours put in, all the posts about how much I work, how tired I am, blah, blah, blah.

It's all been worth it. Know why? Because yesterday I wrote two checks, and with the stroke of a pen, a couple of envelopes, one bus trip, and a single postage stamp, I am completely debt-free. I don't have much, but I owe nothing, and it's a glorious feeling to have.

Hopefully soon I'll be more energetic, therefore articulate enough to really put into words how pleased I am right now. But the long work-weeks are still stretching onward, so I only have a moment to sit here and punch in a few jumbled sentences, for I've more yet to accomplish. And now that I have this moment to enjoy, I'll be doning the blue scrubs and the green apron with a renewed spring in my step, looking forward to a few more glorious moments of accomplishment yet to come.

Sometimes, all the hard work can pay off. Big time.

-C.

And the busy stay busy...

Just finished another long work stretch. I'm logging in around 57 hours a week between the two jobs, and average about 1 day off per 15 worked. The economy may be in a slump, but my finances are the best they have ever been. I just wish that it didn't take so very much to be that way, but given how many of my friends and family are struggling right now, I can't really complain.

Cubs season has begun, which means lots of green apron time. The coffee job has been my saving grace for the past 18 months that I've held it, but the big guns are making it more and more difficult to be flexible. More availability is required now than when I started back, and juggling responsibilities is getting tougher. I'm hoping that, with all of the extra time put in, I can reach my goals sooner rather than later. Fingers crossed, and support soles firmly in place, I persevere.

The demands of the jobs have also negated my taking another semester off from school. I'm looking to re-enroll come fall, with a new projected graduation of December 2010. Not what I had in mind, and my impatience is sulking in the corner, stamping her feet. But I remind myself daily that it is a marathon, not a sprint, and that I have a whole lifetime to build this career. The important thing is to see that it is done well, and if that means taking a little longer than originally thought, so be it.

My photo blog has been great fun, and a wonderful distraction for when the work-worlds bear down on me. I'm also getting into crocheting (2 dishcloths down, and a scarf in progress) and jewelry-making (I can custom-size bracelets to fit my scrawny wrists!). Next up is knitting....

As for the urban zoo, it has gotten even smaller. My hamster Kenya passed away last week; she had developed an abscess near her amputation site over a year ago, but medication had kept it at bay for much longer than had been anticipated. The night before she died she seemed perky enough, though a little slow, and ate her Cheerio treat and ran her wheel as she always did. She was inspiration in a plastic pear, and I'll always be grateful that I took her in.

My guinea pig Puppy also passed away suddenly. This happened about 6 weeks ago; I didn't post anything because, coming about so soon after the dual loss of Pickle & Panda, I just felt overwhelmed. He was seemingly quite healthy, and I was watching him like a hawk, given what had happened to my other two. He was fine in the morning, but had a distended abdomen come evening (at which time I started him on meds) and was gone the next day. A co-worker found info on something colloquially called "guinea pig bloat", a condition where bacteria can build up in their intestinal tract causing a blockage; its cause is not clear, though stress and food conditions are implicated. I'm not sure if his parsley just wasn't clean enough or what, but I miss him and his squeaky demands for attention. I'm not looking to take in any new critters for a while; I like having my urban zoo, but multiple pets mean multiple loss, and I'm feeling a bit leery at the moment.

Off to run errands now. If you can't hit a moving target, than I'm as impenetrable as Superman...

-C.

Sunday, April 5, 2009

It is the beginning of April, and it is snowing as I write this.

Chicago, you never cease to crack me up.

-C.

Just waving as I fly by....

Staying uber-busy. Work. Train. Make cash while making lattes. Learn to twist yarn into fun and hopefully useful things. The photo blog is staying afloat. So am I.

And if any one likes Monte Cristo sandwiches, the Golden Nugget on Clark south of Diversey serves a mean one. That's it for now.

-C.

...because they hold the rest of you up.

It occurred to me late last week that if I'm to spend upwards of 55+ hours a week working on my feet that I should actually buy shoes that fit well instead of settle for ones that are a half a size too small because they are BOGO at Payless.

Sometimes common sense ain't too common 'round here. On the up side, I really love my new Crocs.

-C.

Into What Woods

I went to a show called Into the Woods today. Two friends of mine were performing, and it was an overall lovely production in which they both did a lovely job.

Watching theatre these days is always a little bittersweet for me. I miss it, very much. I spent a lot of time very intimidated by the idea of "big city" theatre, when the truth of the matter is that it isn't any better or worse at this level, just that there's more of it. Perfectionism can be a dangerous trait to have when you allow it to keep you from trying. And trying again after that.

Then I stumbled into veterinary medicine, and I love it here. Truly I do. How blessed am I to have found multiple fields of interest (theatre, writing, vet med) that I adore and am passionate about and engaged in? I never wanted to be the person who spent 40 hours a week doing something that they hated, or even something that they were "okay" with. It's all or nothing, full-throttle big-guns passion or zilch for me. That's just who I am.

But like I said in another blog, you may be able to have it all, but not all at once. I work at a vet hospital full-time, and am working towards a degree. I'm working a second job to pay for that. That leaves little time to tread boards or even to scribble down a lot of the dialogue that rattles in my head. I hope that some day I can find the time to strike a better balance in doing all of what I love.

And that there will exist opportunities for me therein when I am ready. We'll see.

-C.

Resting in the Tiredness

Been a long week. Lots of hours put in. My feet are screaming at me. I can barely make a complete sentence, out loud or on paper.

And I love it. I love this kind of tired. The tired that comes from putting in my time, giving it my all, unencumbered by the anxiety and tension that has made the last five years of my life so painful. My eyelids are heavy, but I will sleep a calm sleep tonight.

Because I am simply tired, no more than that, and what a remarkable difference it is. And how humble and grateful am I in the now? How rested will I truly be come the morn?

-C.

Rainy Day Sweater

I have a rainy day sweater.

It is at least 12 years old, an olive-green tunic-style oversized sweater that I think I may have brought with me from Colorado when I moved, or perhaps purchased shortly after I arrived in Chicago. It is frayed at the bottom and at the ends of the sleeves, where the elastic has worn down so badly that they hang over the tops of my hands. Oversized clothing is particularly unflattering on a tall girl, and the color does nothing for me. The style is very dated and the fraying is more prominent with every washing, but I won't throw it out. It has become my rainy day sweater, and I wear it on chilly rainy days when I can sit in my chair by a window, sip coffee or tea or cocoa, stare out the window at the rain, and ponder...nothing.

It's been a week of the tying of loose ends, the catching up on things previously set aside, the looking forward to see what my future will ask of me, the getting of some much-needed rest. There is relief, excitement, anxiety, reflection, anticipation. Many tasks have been completed, and there are many remaining on my list.

But for now, I'm just a girl in a ridiculously large, badly frayed, butt ugly, old-ass sweater, looking out at the rain falling down, the puddles growing on the sidewalks, the pedestrians with their umbrellas blown out, the buses splashing gutter water onto the pavement. It's a good place to be.

-C.

Taking Stock

I cleared out my work locker yesterday. It was my last full day (though I'll be helping out a bit here and there with chart-auditing as a gesture of good will), and forgot until the end of this last day, after going over the last of my lab tech duties to delegate, after eating company-paid Jimmy John sandwiches and marble cake in farewell (thanks, all) and after paying my final vet bill (Ramona & Hazel needed eye meds and anti-B's), that I really needed to empty my locker. I've had that locker for nearly 4 years (got it a few months after I started), and I guess I was so used to having it and using it that I hadn't given much attention to leaving it.

There was a lot of stuff in that locker. I'm a pack-rat; I save just about everything and I will fill any space I'm given to maximum capacity. Here's an abridged list of what was in that locker:

-a dozen or so slip leashes.

-fat & skinny Sharpies (you need both, trust me on that)

-a spare pair of socks (because you know at some point something foul I mean FOUL will get stuck in your sock we work with animals after all)

-some articles from various newspapers that I had saved to read later

-my toothbrush, toothpaste, and contact lens solution

-a few back issues of industry magazines, like Trends and Veterinary Technician

-a can of green beans and a can of crushed pineapple (both of which I had brought in on separate occasions to go with my lunch but instead opted to do without and decided to just leave them in my locker rather than lug them back home just in case I was at work and thought that my lunch or someone else's could use either green beans or pineapple or maybe both and all of my co-workers laughed yesterday when I showed them those cans but I gotta tell you that there could have been an instance when green beans or crushed pineapple would have been useful nay even needed and then in that instance I would have been like King Arthur pulling Excalibur from the stone except the sword would be beans/fruit and the stone would have been my crowded locker oh scoff ye naysayers but if some situation comes along in life and you slap your forehead wishing you had a can of Del Monte brand no-salt added cut green beans and/or Safeway brand crushed pineapple in juice and there is none to be found oh you will think of me oh yes the image of my face cackling with self-righteous glee will dance before your eyes haunting you like a spector and you will have finally experienced humility in its purest form)

Anyway.

I sorted through this and more. What belonged to the hospital I put away in its proper place. What was good and useful to me I brought home, to be sorted through later.

And what was no longer needed and no longer useful I discarded. And so it goes.

-C.

The Socks and Underwear Question

I went shopping yesterday. My list was simple: socks, underwear (not to be confused with lingerie-we're talking here about the most utilitarian and cheap option for every day, wear-under-my-work-scrubs-and-remember-that-I-work-at-an-ANIMAL-stop-HOSPITAL-stop use), an inexpensive sports watch (to double as a timer for taking heart/resp rates), and simple-but-still-cute earrings. I trekked over to Target after work, hopping a bus filled with Lane Tech high school kids as the time coincided with the end of the school day.

By the way, the phones that high school students now carry simply amaze me. How did I ever manage, at the age of fifteen, to get from Point A to Point B without handheld games to play, text messaging, digital camera imaging, and Web access combined with an actual working PHONE that you could gab on incessantly at any time and for any reason? I mean, Christ, I just got a cell phone myself in '05 (age: 32!), and my only real criteria was that it be a flip phone so that I could pretend that it was a communicator from the original Star Trek TV series. All of the above just goes to prove that I am a) getting old, and b) a huge nerd.

Anyway.

I found 12 pairs of socks, 8 pair of underwear, and the sport watch. No go on cute earrings, so I consoled myself with a $7 wallet that matched the purse I was carrying. I got home, unwrapped, laundered, put away. It all gave me an enormous sense of security and satisfaction. The socks & underwear shortage that has been bouncing around my "to-do" list can now be checked off. I won't have to worry about getting new ones for a while. No matter what happens in the near future, I have plenty of socks and lots of (very basic) underwear. I looked around and made a quick mental list of some other life "staples" of which I have a surplus.

1. Toothpaste-3 tubes, Crest brand (sale + coupon = happy penny-pinching me)
2. Coffee, tea, and espresso (most of which is courtesy of my part-time gig, and if any of you loyal readers out there are lumping "espresso" with "coffee" then I highly recommend getting thee to a local snobby coffeehouse and having the proprietor explain to you the vastly important difference. I would do so myself, but I am a professional barista, after all, and I'm currently not on the clock).
3. Lubriderm lotion (which should be sold by the vat come winter-time as without a twice-daily slathering my poor skin peels off in chucks. Yes, it's as ugly as it sounds.)
4. Silk brand vanilla soy milk (sale + aseptic container = happy non-dairy drinking me)
5. Batteries (AA for the flashlight, D for the radio)
6. Light bulbs
7. Clicky pens (freebies from drug reps, theatre companies, the dry-cleaner. And yes, it must be a clicky pen)

So much abundance. So much preparedness. Not ready for everything, she is, but ready for so much. And now, socks matched, underwear folded, and all of it put neatly away, she can move on to the next "to-do" list item.

Tomorrow.

-C.

Not much new to say....

....I just need a new "most recent post". That's all.

-C.

Double Whammy

My guinea pig Pickle passed away last night. I wanted to write a little something about him, but I'm afraid that that is going to have to wait. I'm still a little stunned from having lost two pets so unexpectedly and in quick succession. In contrast to Panda, who was very timid with people, Pickle was a delight to handle and didn't shy away from attention. Everyone who came into contact with him took note of that, and his unusual extroverted nature produced a number of photo opportunities of which I took great advantage.

I just can't look at any of them now. Not yet. Not for a while.

-C.

Oh, all right....

Once you have been tagged...

1. Choose the 4th folder where you store your pictures on your computer

2. Select the 4th picture in the folder

3. Explain the picture

4. Tag 4 people to do the same. No cheating!

This was from November. In it I am dressed and ready to go to Lyric Opera; I have had season tickets for a few years. I had missed the season opener (Manon) because of my going to Colorado when my Uncle Joe became gravely ill. Now I was gearing up to go to Porgy and Bess, which was really exciting for me as it is considered the greatest American opera, I had never seen it performed in full, and it was the first time EVER that it was being performed at the Lyric. I had just gotten a great haircut and was wearing my "bowtie" earrings. I had brought back a maroon sweater of Uncle Joe's with me after he passed; I decided to wear it to Porgy and Bess in his honor. Then I decided that I should have pictures to remember it all by.

So...I tag Troy, Tiffany, Melissa, & Mary (it can be your first blog entry!).

-C.

Strange Sorrow

One of my guinea pigs died last night. I'm not entirely sure what happened, but she wasn't eating well, and sometimes guinea pigs can develop serious problems if they lose their appetites. Or she could have had a problem that caused her anorexia and led to more problems. I didn't even realize that something was wrong until the situation was dire. And now her cagemate is ill, too.

Her name was Panda. She was the most adorable little black and white smooth-haired piggy I'd seen. I thought of lots of names for her but when I came up with Panda it was just too perfect. Panda was a very neat piggy, and kind of fussy, and very, very shy with people. She also squealed louder than anything whenever she heard the rustling of the bag that held her parsley, or for that matter, any bag rustling at all. She was less a companion for me than she was for my one-eyed piggy Pickle, and I'm afraid that even if he gets through all this mess Pickle will be heartbroken to have to live without her.

I'm sad that she is gone, and sadder still because in retrospect I think that I may have missed important signs that she was ill. Pet health is not just my responsibility in my home, but it is also my job, so I'm doubly hard on myself here. More than anything, though, I'm really sad because I can only find one picture of her. I lost most of my pictures when I fried my old desktop computer over a year ago, and it looks like I didn't take any new pictures of Panda since then.

I just took for granted that she would be here for a while longer.

-C.

Currently.....

Currently reading:

Goddesses in Everywoman: a new psychology of women by Jean Shinoda Bolen, M.D. Found it in Myopic Books, a used bookstore in Wicker Park. Claims to combine Jungian archetypes with a feminist model, using Greek mythology to illustrate such. Intriguing concepts, and for $6.50 to boot. Hey, I'll give just about anything a chance if I'm compared to a goddess. Remember that.

Currently listening to:

Awake: the Best of Live by Live. I love this band. Their second release, Throwing Copper, was in constant rotation during my college years. Very masculine sound that neither crosses the line into misogyny nor indulges in cloying sentiment. That, and I totally crush on their drummer. I'm cheap like that, it's true.

Currently watching:

Battlestar Galactica on scifi.com While a friend & I concur that consistency is not really there, BSG is still one of the best-written dramas on TV right now. Good dialogue, sweeping plot twists, strong female characters, and sci-fi nerdiness equals enthralled me.

Currently focusing on:

Relaxing. I'm not good at that. I've been working so hard on working so hard that really taking time out to read for pleasure, to listening to music I like, and to watch a TV show for kicks actually takes focus and effort. I'm in a strange position where I have to work on relaxing.

And isn't the point of relaxing to not be working?

-C.

Blatant Solicitation # ?

As I was heading to my opera this past Wednesday afternoon (Puccini's MADAME BUTTERFLY, which has some lovely arias but not so interesting characters and little for the singers to do acting-wise but that is a whole other blog entry entirely), I noticed that Brent Books (at 309 W Washington Street ) is going out of business (see A Year in Pictures blog for visual reference). It made me really sad, because I would always stop by on my way to my opera because I love books and I love indies and the prices and selections were good. The place had charm and books-what wasn't to love? And now, they are going out of business. Another indie bites it.

Hey, I do like the big "B" bookstores as much as the next Gentle Reader, and I buy about half of my pet supplies cheaply at the ginormous national pet supply chains that will remain herein nameless, and I work for the green apron company that has stores on every other block and is known for decimating their indie-coffee competition, so I suppose that I can't really rail too hard against the homogenization of American business as I contribute enough to their well-being myself, but whenever a non-big business goes belly-up the part of my soul that loves variety and hates rote just dies a little. A lot of little businesses that I've loved have gone belly-up in my time (Poor Richard's, Cafe Boost, Stone Lion Bookstore, just off the top of my head), so that's a lot of little pieces of my soul. That adds up, for sure.

So I'm thinking this week of heading over to Women & Children First (indie & feminist bookstore, www.womenandchildrenfirst.com), and to A Taste of Heaven cafe and bakery, both in Andersonville. Pause Coffee near the Berwyn station (don't tell my SB boss!). That little Indian/Pakistani place down the street whose name I don't recall but has fantastic & cheap dal makhani and is definitely NOT a chain. Maybe you could join me? Maybe, just in spirit, to an indie place in your neck o' the woods? If you're spending the bucks anyway, why not spent it local? Keep it in the 'hood, so to speak. Think of it this way-you could be helping the little business survive, contribute to your local economy, keeping the rich from just getting richer simply by virtue of being rich, AND be saving my soul. God knows, it needs it.

-C.

To the Broken Helmet Bike Guy...

...on the corner of Dearborn and Madison, at around 5:30 p.m. tonight. I saw that car hit your bike, and I saw your head hit the road. Did you hear that woman screaming? That wasn't me; I think it was the CTA worker who ran to you to make sure you were okay. I didn't occur to me to scream, as everything happened so fast that by the time I realized that a car had hit you, that your head had hit concrete, and that there was a woman screaming because of all of that, I also saw that you were getting up, that you were nodding to your friend that you were okay, and that your helmet was in bits and pieces across the intersection. Tires were already crunching those remnants of helmet by the time everything registered, and now it is that sound that's ringing in my ears as I write this.

I'm glad that you are okay. I'm glad that you were wearing a helmet. I'm glad that you were biking with a friend, and I think that he took down that car's plate number-it sounded like he got at least part of it. I hope you get how lucky you are. And I hope this stops you from veering in and out of busy traffic on your bike. Because you may be nimble and you may be quick but jumping over that particular candlestick over and over and over again only ends up burning your ass. And sometimes a helmet isn't enough. Do you get that now? Does everyone who saw you get that?

Does everyone who is reading this get that? Please say yes.

-C.

Another List

10 things that I love

1. The smell of freshly-brewed coffee
2. The sound of a purring cat
3. Baked potatoes
4. Post-It Notes
5. Drawing blood (on animals only; humans are just icky, no offense)
6. Libraries
7. The scent of aftershave
8. Purses & handbags (you don't have to try them on)
9. Stimulating conversation
10. A good night's sleep.

-C.

Two Weeks Here

A friend of mine (and fellow blogger) recently wrote a blog entitled "Two Weeks". The gist was just how much can happen in so short a period of time. Very eloquent, T.

Two weeks ago I had a gnawing feeling in my gut. It's the same gnawing feeling that has been rumbling in my belly for a few years. I was trying to figure out how to continue life as it had been, with the gnawing sensation in my belly, that I could subdue occasionally, but that never really went away, that I had come to recognize as the physical manifestation of my anxiety. The source of that anxiety was constant and unmoving, and I couldn't seem to thicken my skin or develop enough detachment to rid myself of the gnawing feeling. I realized, in a moment two short weeks ago, when the rumbling moved from my belly and into my head, flowing out of my twisted face in the form of uncontrollable tears, that the only thing that I could really change was my proximity to the source of this anxiety. And so I made a decision to move forward.

The decision itself defies common sense. I get that. But I also know that the knot in my belly is gone, that every morning since the making of that decision I've woken up easily, without having to smack the snooze button a dozen times, dreading being pulled from my slumber. (Well, there was that Sunday morning last week, but I blame the wine and fondue-fest of the night before. :-) My body and heart are telling me that this is the right choice, and for once I'm telling my brain to step aside and listen to them. You know that cliche, "The weight of the world being lifted from your shoulders"? It is truth. I feel lighter and breathe easier, and so I stand by my illogical choice.

I welcomed another furry beast into my home. It had been over 2 years since I said good-bye to my Tully, and I was finally ready to find another kitty to love and care for. Three is the right number of cats for me; the three that I had in my home (Gracie, Sam, Tully) 7 years ago, when I started my journey in vet medicine, are gone now. Two of them were under the age of 6 when they died. I grieve for their departure, but weep in gratitude for all they taught me. About the fragility of life and how to live in every moment. About the simplicity and absolute necessity of joy. About the capacity that I have in my heart, that I can channel through my mind and through my hands. I make a difference in my work because of their continued presence in my soul, and as I sit here laughing over my new cat Fido's antics I am happy and oh so grateful that grief does not have to mean an end to joy. Not if you don't let it.

There are other developments. For some of us, things have gone back to normal. Sadly, normal, in these circumstances, does not equate good. I don't know what actions to take, and am wondering if maybe there is no action to take. What I can say for sure is my role in things will not be as it has been in the past. For my own sake, I will no longer sit idly by while the elephants in the room trample the furniture and suffocate me with their sheer numbers. I can find freedom from anxiety. I can invite joy into my home. And I can speak the truth of things. I will not be afraid of honesty, however painful it may be. Pain only hurts; duplicity destroys from within. I'll survive the pain of truth to see it prevail. Some of you will be on board with that.

And some of you won't be, and more's the pity for you.

-C.

The Simplest Prayer

Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Such a simple concept. Really, really tough to follow. Really tough.

What to Do with Fifty Bucks?

Remember that question from just before Christmas? Should I donate it to charity? Splurge in something for myself? Spread more good karma? I did all three at The Anti-Cruelty Society of Chicago this weekend, and his name is Fido:




(Actually, the adoption fee is $55, but my found-wallet reward did cover the bulk of that! www.anticruelty.org)

Two New Projects

I've got two new documentary-style projects in the works, both of them in blog-format. The first is entitled "A Year in Pictures". For every day of 2009, I will be posting a digital photograph. It is based on a project that I read about a while back, where a woman took a picture every single day (on an old-school 35 mm, no less). She found that, amidst the pictures of her feet and other banality, that she had captured very special moments that she would not have otherwise. Now that I have a digital camera and am in the habit of blogging regularly, I decided to create a similar project for myself. This documenting of the year will also carry particular resonance with me, for reasons that some of you are aware of and that will become public soon enough.

The second is a journal entitled "The CTA Diaries". I have wanted to explore for myself the relationship between rider and transit in Chicago as it has fascinated me since before I even moved here. Hey, the "El" is legend outside these borders, you know? This particular project, though, is on hold for a bit, as I'm still deciding on the slant, and on whether the blog will be public (as I don't think I am comfortable with strangers knowing my transit-riding schedule, just in case).

Anyway, hit the links to your right if you are curious, and leave comments at will. Thanks!

-C.

Resolution

It is Thursday morning, January 1, 2009. The dawn of a new year. I'm sitting at my laptop, which is on top of my plywood makeshift desk, in my dining room that is really more of an office, sipping Starbucks Christmas Blend coffee out of a mug that boasts a panoramic picture of the Chicago skyline. It is way early, and I'm hitting both jobs today. The Starbucks gig promises to be a bit on the hellish side, what with a full 8 hours (time & a half with the holiday, but murder on my poor back and knee) and the hockey game at Wrigley Field (please tell me that drunken Blackhawks fans behave better than drunken Cubs fans? Please?). But it's all good. It is all so very, very good.

Yesterday was the year's close, a time of reflection. Today is a new year's beginning, a time of resolution. And what is my resolution for 2009?

Simple. To enjoy it.

In looking back on the last several years, I can make lists of numerous accomplishments. I see where hard work and fortitude have served me well. I see areas of my life that need improvement, where I can endeavor to strike some balance, gain better perspective. But what I don't see a lot of is joy.

As a child, you are capable of experiencing joy in the virtually all things that surround you; much of the time that joy is brought right to your eyes and to your hands, and it is easy and carefree and without struggle. Things are different as an adult, as the necessities of living and demands of ambition make compromise necessary, and the randomness of the universe reveals to me every day that nothing, absolutely nothing, is promised us or owed us or offered with any kind of guarantee. As such, one never experiences the same kind of burden-free glee as an adult that they could as a child.

I realize now, though, that joy is like hope, in that it is a choice. You choose to feel the joy in your life just as you do to see the hope. In my efforts to improve, gain, maintain, I think I've missed out on a great deal of the joy that is being alive. You know, that whole breathing-not-being-dead thing I talked about yesterday. Well, today, on this first day of a new year, as I look forward to new challenges and to the necessity of change, I hereby resolve to choose, every single day, to enjoy the life that I have been so blessed to live.

And if a drunken Blackhawks fan pukes on my shoes today, hell, I've got a great story to tell in a bar or on this blog, right? That is the power of choice.

-C.