And maybe two is better than one...

I like using song lyrics as blog titles. It makes people go "hmmm...where the heck did I see that before." And don't get any funny ideas, because I'm talking about my birthday here. Not the other thing you are thinking about.

So this girl turned 22 exactly a week ago, and now she can't tell people she's 21 any more. 21 is waaay cooler than 22, and I kinda miss being that funky age. But it was a good day. For instance, I actually opened my mouth and told people what I wanted for my birthday - new windshield wipers. That was all I ever wanted, and I got it. =) It might have helped that I was driving a car full of girls in the rain when I had the inspiration to ask for it. Perhaps they feared for their lives and decided it was safer if I could see when I drove.

What else? There was this Halloween party going on the night of my 22nd. And I went as "Inflation". Yes I'm a dollar bill with balloons all over me. If you don't get it, go stand in the corner and shame on you!

Rachel Chua, you'd be proud of the magnitude of lameness behind that costume. And thank you for the birthday call. Its always a nice surprise to get a call from a 017 number.

So using the Oreo Sandwich writing technique, I should end this blog post with a reference to my introduction: and maybe twenty two is better than twenty one...yes?

Acceptance is the first step to...

Its been over 2 months since I plunged back into the world of academia...and I dare say that I've started to accept the fact that I'm gonna be stuck in school for another 2 years - you may even be able to get me to admit that I like the life of the grad student.

No more tests. No more cramming. No more 12 hour clinicals. No more endless study sessions in the library. No more careplans. YES! NO MORE CAREPLANS!

I've exchanged all that for papers, and presentations, and papers, and presentations -all of which aren't too terrible. Except that nowadays, I get to fall asleep to journal articles. Now that's a bedtime story bestseller.

Grad School

Why do they call it Graduate School? If you have already graduated from school, why the heck do you go back? It makes no sense. People who go to grad school make no sense.

I make no sense.

4 months ago, I graduated with a shiny new Bachelors of Science in Nursing, got my license to save lives, and was all set to go out into the real world so I could poke and prod poor sick people. That was four months ago. But sometimes plans change, and there ain't nothing we can do about it...and you end up going back to school.

And you get a sneaking feeling that you have become a professional student. But no worries, folks, I'm stopping at the Masters level. I will resist the PhDeeeeeee!

So until then...I'll be treating patients via gray's anatomy. Toodlehoo!

I aint dropping no eaves!

I apologize for the 3 month hiatus. There hasn't been much to talk about besides my new found freedom from nursing school, and the revival of my previously non existent social life.

So me and my buddies were at this Asian restaurant and I overheard this conversation and instantly had an AHA I MUST BLOG ABOUT THIS moment. Here we go...


Unhappy Customer: Excuse me, my child's birthday was on June 2011. Which means he is ONLY 1 year old. Why did you charge me for his meal? He's so young.
Chinese Waitress: Oh I'm sorry, let me check with my manager.

Chinese Waitress: (in Chinese) Hey boss. That man claims his child is only 1 year old, but seriously, the kid is so big he must be at least 3 years old.
Manager: (in Chinese) Let it go, just change the order.

Chinese Waitress #2: What happened?
Chinese Waitress: (forgot to speak in Chinese) He said I charged him wrongly. His kid is so --
Manager: (in Chinese) He's standing behind you.
Chinese Waitress: (in Chinese) Its ok, I was speaking in Chinese. He doesn't understand.
Manager and Waitress #2: (in Chinese together) No you weren't.

Chinese Waitress: (turns very sweetly to the unhappy customer) I talked to the manager and fixed your order. (Big smile)


Sometimes I believe my 4 years in Chinese school was worth it. Today, was one of those moments.

Yahoo!

Kinda lazy to blog, so here's a picture that says a thousand words.

Day X

A long, long, long time ago, I had my first day of clinicals. That day, I touched, prodded and poked my first patient. 500 hours of clincals have passed since that first day, discounting all the hours spent writing care plans, brooding over care plans, screaming at care plans, burning care plans, rewriting care plans, brooding over the rewritten care plans and screaming at the rewritten care plan again.

I kid you not.

Today, I had my last clinical day ever as a nursing student. Supposedly I am ready to go out into the world to poke and prod other patients. But before that, I have to rewrite my lastest care plan, brood over it, scream at it and finally, turn it in...

FOR.

THE.

LAST.

TIME.

Amen.

Long Live the NOKIA (part 2)

Two years ago, before the horrible phenomena called NURSING SCHOOL and NON-STOP STUDYING occurred, when I was a happy-go-lucky sophomore in college, without a care in the world, and the freedom to party every night if my carefree heart so desired, I dropped my NOKIA (spelled with capitals) into the toilet bowl.

Feel free to click on the link above and read the post. It written when I was a funnier, clumsier person.

Well, that phone survived me another 6 months before the display started to die on me and I inherited another NOKIA (spelled with capitals) to replace the NOKIA that got dropped in the toilet bowl. Well the new NOKIA served me for a good year and a half before I decided to test out its rumored indestructibility. I decided to wash it.

And no. Unlike what some people think, I did not go to my sink and wash it because I thought it was dirty.

What actually happened was that I was doing laundry at midnight (what better time to do laundry), after studying all day at the library...and on my way to the laundry room, I spied my sweater on the couch and  impulsively threw it into the laundry basket. Evidently my brain was not working at that point in time because my NOKIA was in the pocket of that sweater and got thrown into the washer with the rest of my stinky clothes.

That was how it got a bath. And that's how the circuit board got roasted.

So guys, NOKIAs are sturdy phones. They survive toilet bowls, 3 foot drops and being smooshed into 352 pieces. But they don't survive 30 minute hot water spins in washing machines. It just doesn't work that way.