Vacation is a word that means work.

When I did my laundry yesterday I didn’t wash any actual clothes.  Only scrubs.  I have dreams almost exclusively about my residents.  Also had a dream that my elderly Arabic coworker borrowed my favorite scrub top and wrote “This belongs to Amy” in pen down the front so he’d remember to return it to me.   (I was surprised both that he had it without my knowledge and that he’d managed to fit into it, while at the same time not surprised at all at the fact that he’d want to wear a woman’s scrub top).

I worry that this job will kill my back and I’ll be hunched over trying to help people while bent in half.

 I don’t know if I can be a CNA for the rest of my life.

A degree in University Studies is probably pretty freaking useless.

Good things:

Holiday Pay.
Overtime Pay.
I keep overhearing people saying nice things about me, because elderly folk are bad at judging how well I can hear them.

yeh.

Conversation at work with an old man

Him:  How old do you think I am?
Me: I don’t know… 25?
Him: (laughs)  I’m ninety eight
Me: WOW, well then you’re doing pretty good!
Him:  Yup, my wife and I have been married for sixty-nine years.
Me:  … how old do you think I am?
Him:  (stares me up and down) Twenties?
Me:  Yup I’m 21.
Him:  So you’re not married hmm?
Me: Heck no.  I call that ‘The Trap’
Him:  (laughs delightedly)

———

so decided to take a 2 AM trip to Detroit Lakes with  my friend… but ten minutes out of Fargo he says, “hey have you ever been to Buffalo State Park?”  and I was thinking the stars would  be amazing so I begged him to take me there instead.

And I was right, the stars were phenomenal to the point where I could not stop smiling.  The weather was perfect.  No wind, very few mosquitoes, and warm enough with the blanket I brought.  Glad I didn’t just go to bed like I had intended.

“In fact, I am aware of the fake entities in my life.
I know that I can clear
them if I wanted to in a moment …
But all this hollowness needs my sincerity.”

-Rumi

Good skincare techniques

An old woman once told me the secret to looking young at 95

Love Everybody

—-

It’s so simple, really.  Sometimes I wonder why we even need all these religions.  I will start my own:  Throw love around like a contagion.

 As Slug said,   “I’ll make you smile from the simple fact I’m good at it, I’ll make you smile just so I can sit and look at it”

oh and my Muslim friend is trying to get me to convert to Islam… it is very unlikely that I will.  but I told him to get me a copy of the Qur’an in English, and I will certainly discuss it with him.  These are my conceptions of it (of course I have never read it, so who knows how accurate they are):

1.  It says women are inferior to men
2.  talks a lot about killing “infidels”
3.  They can’t eat pork
4.  Jesus was a prophet, not God

I will let you know what I learn.  Should be interesting.

“Will you have enough money for Korea if you go to California this Christmas?”

http://mightgetrunovermightgetshot.tumblr.com/
hit up my tumblr if ya like

I wrote this

Skinned Knees, Endless Summer
Peanut butter tastes like
grade school in autumn
my grandfather’s sweater smells
of cinnamon and is the exact shade
of a man staring down an ending
The sun’s amnesia made us
forget the existence of winter
and we only understood years
in terms of birthday cake
we laughed at your little brother
when he got stuck in the toddler swing
at the park
we tore off the huge plastic leaves
on my grandmother’s decorative tree
and pretended we were birds
funny how even though growing up
when you’re that young
is a movie on fast-forward,
we were the ones
least aware of time,
least aware of the
slow-march countdown
to the final sunset
summer’s rules:
if you swing high enough
you might fly
and if you run fast enough
you might live forever.
—-
and this is one of my faaaaaave songs.  emphasis on the a’s.

Why Would You Chase Away the Sun if You Don’t Want the Rain?

Lisa Lewis, excerpt from “February”
   This is the second month
Of the year I turn thirty-seven. Already the little fists
Of leaves are forming inside the knotted ends of twigs
All over Houston. The cold weather is over. This winter
Again there was no freeze. And tonight it’s very late,
And it’s Sunday, and no cars pass on the big road
By the house, but out there in the night
Some kids about seventeen are doing terrible things
They’ll get by with, and grow out of, and remember
The way they’ll remember what love felt like at first,
Before it stopped being the surest path to ruination,
Before it had done the worst it could and passed away.
And to them it’s as if those who lived this life before them
Moved with the jerky speeded-up gestures of characters
In old-fashioned movies, their expressions intense
And exaggerated; they roll their eyes and loll their tongues
When the heroin hits their blood. It’s as if the beauty
Of evil lives only in the present, where the drop of dope
Clinging to the tip of the stainless steel point
Catches the light like dew; and it doesn’t matter
That the light falls from a streetlamp with a short in it,
And the impatient boy with the syringe in his hand
Will touch the drop back into the spoon
So as not to waste it. It’s his instinct telling him
How much it means to live this now, before he knows
Better, while he still has a chance to survive it.
It’s the moon over his head with its polished horns
That would slip through his skin if he touched them.
It’s the trees leaping to life in his blood, greenness
Unfurling so hard it almost bursts his heart. 
 
————————————————————
I have never done heroin.  It is doubtful that I ever will.  When you think about it, I haven’t really had much experience with pretty much anything.  I haven’t seen The Titanic (The Titanic is very similar to heroin so’s you know)
I’m still young enough that I have it in me to do incredibly stupid things.   I guess age is relative anyways.  I love feeling young.  It’s almost worth not being old enough to go out dancing.  Speaking of getting old, and not having experiences, I have never been full-on drunk.  The few times I have had l’alcool, I drink so little it doesn’t do anything and there is really no point.  I just don’t like how alcohol makes me feel stupid and slow.  I have no conversational skills and I don’t get less inhibited, just confused and self conscious.  Of course I generally have enough self-confidence to fill arenas, so it’s not like drinking could really improve anything per se.
Basically.  It’s five in the morning and I can’t sleep.  Here’s some random crap that you can read I suppose.  Goodness I have poor writing skills at this time in the morning.  DON’T HATE THIS IS MY BLOG NOT A FREAKING RESEARCH PAPER.
This title and yesterday’s are from Atmosphere songs.  (gearing up for the concert in a couple of weeks) 
 
 Waterside by =AnnMarieBone of deviantart.com
 
 haven’t seen, haven’t seemed
happy, it’s gonna come to me
when it does I don’t know where I’ll
keep it at all 

Stella won’t ya take me home

 (I have no title for this)

When I am old, I will eat

whatever I want. Cake, french fries,
cookie dough, three french hens, two turtle
doves and a
partridge in a pear tree
they will not buy me a
wheelchair
(unless I request one doused in syrup
for a light
brunch)
heavens no!, I intend to roll, like a
bowling ball with a face
down the hallways
to wherever my next meal is
I shall pass serenely
well fed and satisfied
to rest, not in a grave befitting the
plebeians
but a crater
____________
I’ve been thinking about the whole “Fat American” stereotype.  and poverty.  Also the elderly, because of course that is my job.