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I Might Be A Terrible Person

Published September 24, 2014 by Malia

Tonight I was driving home from work, and had something happen that is really bothering me.

I was sitting in the left hand turn lane at a red light.  The intersection I was at is one that usually has heavier traffic, even after 10 pm when I’m usually headed home.  As I was sitting at the light, I became aware of someone knocking at my passenger side window.  When I looked over, there was middle-aged (looked to be in her mid-forties) woman standing there wanting me to roll down my window.

I’ll be honest, I got scared.  I was alone, it was late, and this woman had appeared out of nowhere.  Out of all the vehicles at the intersection, she had picked mine, which certainly couldn’t have been her first choice, especially since she had to pass several vehicles to get to mine.  Even weirder?   The intersection I was at is one that is right next to several restaurants (fast food and sit down), and gas stations; so it wasn’t like I was sitting out in the middle of nowhere leaving her with nowhere to go.  Plus, my stupid brain wasn’t helping.  All I could think about was the woman who got murdered last summer when she was on her way home from work (http://www.wowt.com/home/headlines/Andrea-Krugers-Murder-Was-Quick-and-Random-222445351.html).

My paranoia got the best of me, and I ended up pulling away from her.  I saw her walking (not running, or even walking with much haste) towards the Village Inn on the corner.  I’m hoping that the lack of haste indicates she wasn’t  in trouble.

I’m hoping that she’s okay.  I honestly don’t know what I should have done.  I know plenty of people who wouldn’t have thought anything about rolling down the window, but I’m apparently not one of those people.  I apparently assume the worst about everyone, even if I have minimal reason to.  Did I do the right thing by putting my own safety ahead of someone else, or was I just operating out of fear?  (This is more a rhetorical question, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m incredibly frustrated by the fact that I may have been wrong).

Apparently The Evil Copy Machine Was Lonely

Published July 19, 2014 by Malia

So, y’know how in Star Wars nearly every character says, “I have a bad feeling about this.”?  That’s how I felt last Friday after sitting through the 20 minute presentation, “You and Your New Phone From Hell.”  Just kidding, the presentation didn’t have a title.  But, if it had, that is totally what it should have been.

See, for some reason, we had to get rid of the wonderful, fantastic phones with decent reception, and replace them with phones that Crowley would recommend.  And do you know why he’d recommend them?  Because after you’ve disconnected the same client 3+ times in a row, when attempting to transfer them, you start seriously wondering if you’re going to have to sell your soul in a crossroads deal just to make the phones play nice.

Believe me, there is absolutely NOTHING a client loves more than constantly being disconnected.  I’m sure that the irritated, haggard tone their voice takes on is just a mask for how much they’re enjoying the whole experience.

Y’know what else is super fun about the new phone system?  The phone numbers.  None of our old phones had direct numbers.  However, each of the new phones has its own, individualized number.  In theory, this is a good idea.  What’s not a good idea?  The phone company assigning previously owned numbers to these phones.  I’ve spent way too much time this week fielding calls of people trying to reach Farmer’s Insurance.  Most people are pretty startled when they’re calling for an insurance quote, and instead get a medical reference lab.

Maybe the evil phones would be appeased if I sacrificed a chicken…

A Comedy of Errors

Published June 23, 2014 by Malia

I’m sure that this will be funny in a few days, but right now I just feel sad.  This morning, I got up and exercised.  I napped (wasn’t feeling very good, and I knew it would be a late night because we were short staffed at work), and then had lunch with my parents.  After that I showered and got ready for work.  And then I looked at my phone for the first time since getting up.  I had missed a text from the boy.

And then I was sad.

Normally, this wouldn’t make me sad, but he’s been super busy at work.  They’ve been gearing up to do inventory (which takes place this week), and so I’ve not seen him in a week.  Sadly, if I had actually checked my phone earlier in the day, I would’ve gotten to see him today.  Which is why I’m sad.  I miss him. Which is not the easiest thing in the world to admit, because I like to pretend I’m a lot tougher than I am.  Doesn’t change the fact that I miss him.

I’m trying really hard not to be an annoyance or a nag.  I know he’s under a lot of stress, and I don’t want to add to it.  I’m really happy he has a job.  I have a lot of respect for the fact that he works as hard as he does.  And I’m super happy that inventory doesn’t take place more frequently than it does.

Recovering Drama Queen

Published May 22, 2014 by Malia

Sometimes I think I should have entitled this blog, “Confessions of a Drama Queen in Remission.”  It’s true.  I don’t like acknowledging it, but I’m a drama queen in recovery.  Seriously, there should be a support group.

Me: Hi, my name is Malia, and I’m a drama queen.  It’s been three days since my last episode.

Readers: Hi, Malia.

Yeah, I try not to let that side of me out very often, but it happens.  And, unfortunately, it’s like a snowball, once it gets rolling, everything in my sphere of reality gets super dramatic.  I end up freaking out about everything.

To my horror and embarrassment, the drama queen side of me resurfaced over the last weekend.  It was awful.  I didn’t even realize I was being a drama queen until Tuesday.  I’m absolutely terrified of spiders, and last fall a coworker put a fake one on my computer keyboard not realizing this.  I screamed, and as soon as I realized what it was fake I felt humiliated.  That was six months ago.  Tuesday, it happened again, but this time the fake spider was hidden under my keyboard.  Again, I screamed, and then I ran to the bathroom because I was so angry and humiliated (and I honestly thought I was going to start crying, and didn’t want my co-workers to see that).  I know being scared of spiders is a stupid, irrational fear.  Doesn’t stop me from being scared of them.

Now, there were plenty of other things that happened that led up to the realization that I was being a drama queen.  The fake spider was just the breaking point.  The point where I realized how much of an idiot I was being.  So, now I’m trying to mentally prepare myself to be calm, no matter what (much easier said than done).

Throughout my week of being a drama queen, the boy kindly put up with me.  He never once made me feel worse about it, and he was overall just pretty wonderful.  And now having not seen him since Sunday I miss him a lot.  Being a girl totally sucks sometimes.  It’s not that I’m clingy, I just genuinely miss him.  Thank heavens this isn’t a long distance relationship.

The Dentist Curse

Published May 7, 2014 by Malia

I’ve not written in a couple of weeks because there hasn’t been much to talk about.  The most interesting parts of my life are work and the boy.

I would write about work, but there’s this whole “HIPPA” thing that I don’t want to be in violation of.  So, all the entertaining/irritating/funny/wtf moments that happen there are going to continue to remain confidential.

I could write about the boy, but I’m relatively certain most people do not want to read yet another post talking about how fantastically wonderful he is.  The fact that he puts Gravity Falls on the DVR for me so I can get caught up, and then willingly watches it with me (even though he’s all caught up) kind of makes me melt inside.  And that’s just the tiniest tip of the iceberg of how awesome he is to me.  He actually listens to me, even when I’m rambling on and on about something completely ridiculous.  He was even willing to go as the Dread Pirate Roberts for Free Comic Book Day just so I could go as a princess (I put in a showing as a very brunette Buttercup.  Realized to my horror, after the fact, that I was doing a better Sansa Stark cosplay than a Buttercup cosplay).  I’d be lying if I said I’m not feeling some very deep emotions regarding the boy.  But like I said, I doubt people really want to read another post about this kind, gentle, patient, sweet gentleman.  (In case you think I’m laying it on really thick, I’m barely doing the man justice.  He really is amazing.)

So, apart from those two things, life has been pretty quiet.  However, yesterday something finally fell into my lap that I thought, I should totally write about this.  See, yesterday I learned that I am apparently cursed when it comes to my dentist.  To begin, let me give some background information.

Back in 2008, I had a dental emergency, and found myself visiting a new dentist (the one I had gone to previously was absolutely awful).  The new dentist, we’ll call him Dr. G, was brilliant.  From then until 2010, I saw him anytime I had a teeth emergency, and he was always awesome.  Always worked with me and my budget, and did everything in his power to not make it such a terrifying experience.

In 2010, I had a tooth that needed work, and went to see him.  He came up with a treatment plan, and I needed to save some money before I could have the work done.  When I went back a month later, I learned to my horror, Dr. G had left the practice.  Another dentist ended up completing the work.  He was nice enough, but just not as good of a dentist.

In 2012, my parents needed to go to the dentist, and they actually found out that Dr. G had moved to another practice in town.  They went to see him and all was well.

When I had to have my root canal, back in March, Dr. G was who I went to see.  He did an amazing job (the root canal was over with before I even realized it had been officially started).  I had an appointment 2 weeks ago to have the temporary crown removed and the permanent one placed.  The day of my appointment, I showed up to the clinic, and was informed that Dr. G was out of town and Dr. S would be seeing me.  I was nervous about this.  Dr. S did a quick check and found that Dr. G did his crown prep differently.  Dr. S told me that since I wasn’t having any problem with the temporary, it would probably be better to wait until Dr. G was back in town to have the permanent applied.  He was concerned that since his way of setting the crown was different, I might start having problems with the permanent wanting to come loose.  I was okay with this, and really glad for the honesty.

Yesterday, I got a call to remind me about the appointment I had for today.  The call started with me being told, “Um…Dr. G has left our practice with no warning, so you’ll be seeing Dr. S.”  Fortunately, Dr. S had called Dr. G and found out how best to place the permanent.

So, if you’ve managed to follow all that, you’ll see that I have managed to have the same dentist bail on me twice now.  The boy referred to the situation as a sign.  And I’m afraid I have to acknowledge that he is probably right.  I’m going to just have to let Super Dentist go bye-bye (he really was the most amazing dentist I’ve ever encountered.  Even my parents would agree and they’ve had loads more dental work done than I have).  Fortunately, I really liked Dr. S, so here’s hoping he doesn’t quit the practice before he’s supposed to do my filling.

Otherwise, I’ll have to assume I’m cursed…

What’s in a name?

Published January 31, 2014 by Malia

Call me Malia.

No, seriously, I want you to.  That’s my name.  I happen to be one of those lucky few with a name that I actually like.  Scratch that.  I adore my name!  My name was selected carefully by my parents, and I’ve always loved how different and unique it is.  The year I was born, the most popular names for girl babies were names like Jennifer, Ashley, and Nicole (just to name a few).  While those names are fine and lovely, I always felt pretty special because I had such a wonderful name.

Today I had to call my dad at one of his jobs.  I told the receptionist my name, who I was, and who I was calling for.  In fact, I ended up saying my name twice.  Now, when she went to transfer my call, she said, “Okay, Maria, I’m going to put you on hold.”  Really?  I said my name twice, I have excellent enunciation, and it was a clear phone line.

Why do people have so much trouble with my name?

Growing up, I always had people telling me, “I just can’t ever seem to get your name right.”  My high school superintendent had to have me tell him the proper pronunciation at graduation rehearsal; because after 3.5 years of me being in his school, heavily involved in music and drama, he still had no idea how to say my name.

My name is always getting spelled strangely as well.  Meleah, Melea, Milia, and Maila are just a few of the versions.  And I’ve heard as many different pronunciations.  And yes, I realize that technically there are several different accepted pronunciations.

Last summer, I had one of the worst experiences with my name.  I had only been at my job a few months, and I had taken a specimen to another department.  The woman I took it to (who has since retired), asked me what my name was.

Me: Malia

Her: How do you spell that?

Me: M A L I A

Her: Oh, (this is how she pronounced it) Maul-ee-Uh

Me: (trying to remain calm and polite) *nervous laugh* Um…No…It’s (me pronouncing it) Muh-Lee-uh.

Serioulsy?  Who in their right mind does that?  If I tell you my name, I expect that you aren’t going to try to tell me how you think it should be pronounced.  If you tell me your name is pronounced Jenny, Phil, or Raxacoricofallapatorius, I’m going to accept that.  I won’t call you Genie, File, or Raslkdfjpqoiwfen.

It really does baffle me why it is such a challenge for people.  It’s five short letters, and it’s pretty easy to say.

So, if you’ve got a name people constantly butcher, let me just say, “I know those feels.”

I Think The Weather Needs Some Mood Stabilizers

Published January 21, 2014 by Malia

The weather over the last 24 hours has been truly bizarre.  Last night, I was able to sleep with my windows open.  Tonight, I’m wondering if I should use my Pac-Man blanket along with my TARDIS blanket.  The day was fairly nice when I went to work, but in the middle of my shift it suddenly got very dark (like it does before a thunderstorm) and there was a large amount of snow getting blown around.  When my shift ended there was no snow, but the temperature had dropped to near zero.  By the end of the week it’s supposed to be back up in the forties.

And, I’ve now achieved the lowest point of blogging.  I’ve actually started a post dedicated to the weather.  Okay, maybe not the lowest point, but not one of my best.  I guess I’m feeling a little frustrated tonight.  No guessing about it, I am feeling frustrated.

I love my job, and I would be devastated without it.  It’s one of the few jobs I’ve ever had that I’ve actually enjoyed.  Physically, it’s not a difficult job.  Mentally, though, it’s exhausting.  I spend over 8 hours a day doing my best to be 100% accurate.  I read and match names and dates and tests and tubes all day long.  By the end of my shift my brain is usually working on the same level as those stupid “Doge” memes.  (Very tired.  Much thirsty.  Such driving.  If you don’t think that makes sense, you’re right.)

What’s frustrating me is the fact that by the time I hit the weekend, I’ve got about enough energy to sit in a quiet room and make a scarf while watching PBS.  I’m young!  I’m healthy!  I hate that I seem to be turning into the little old spinster lady (complete with cat).

I don’t know that there’s really any point to this meandering post, and I’m not sure how it went from boring to depressing so quickly.  I guess I just needed to get it out there in the universe.

 

 

Happy Birthday To Me!

Published January 8, 2014 by Malia

Work birthday, that is.  Today (1/7) marked my one year anniversary at my job.  This has been a year of firsts.  It’s the first time I’ve been a recognized full-time employee for more than three months.  It’s the first time I’ve had actual benefits.  It’s the first time I’ve had PTO.  Yes, boys and girls, as of today I have finally achieved PTO.  (For those of you who don’t know, PTO stands for Personal Time Off).  Now, I’m not 100% certain how PTO is different from Vacation Days, but apparently it’s different.

It’s a really good feeling to be gainfully employed.  There was a time in my life, not too long ago, where the idea of being employed full time, in a place that I truly love being seemed an impossibility.  It still kind of astonishes me.  I’m so grateful to have this job, though.

The Secret Ingredient Is…

Published December 29, 2013 by Malia

Have you seen those silly little Funko Pop! figurines?

http://www.pinterest.com

Big eyes, giant head, crazy amount of detail for a little figurine.  They really are ridiculous.  The only thing more ridiculous?  My recently discovered love of them.  It could be argued that there’s no point in owning one, and I’ll be glad to listen to your argument if you don’t mind my staring at my Legolas figure while you do.

 

trampt.com

He’s much more adorable in real life.

The point is, if I was married and had a kid or two, I couldn’t “waste” money on these adorable pieces of plastic.  I couldn’t be siting here trying to figure out how best to arrange them on my empty shelf in my bedroom.

There are so many things I am free to do because I’m single.  I can watch an episode of my favorite tv show for the eighth time and not have to worry about getting asked, “Haven’t you seen this before?  Why can’t we watch something less British?”  I can add to my movie collection whenever I want.

It’s pleasant being single.  There’s quite a bit of freedom and minimal amount of compromising that needs to take place.  I can work a job I love, one with bizarre hours and not worry about how it’s going to affect (or is it effect?  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get this grammatical rule down) my relationship with my significant other.

Even though I have all this going for me, there are still times where my heart yearns to be with someone else.  Not for there to be grand romantic gestures (although, they certainly would be appreciated), but for someone to be partners with in order to fight through the battle known as life.

Y’know, I’ve read multiple books on the subject of being single, and had chats with fellow singletons and even with some marrieds regarding being single.  I’ve heard all “logical” reasons for being single.  I’ve been given most of the pat answers offered in the following video:

And, you know what?  Tonight, I was at home,  reading a fluffly little book, and suddenly I was overwhelmed to the point of tears with feelings of loneliness.  There wasn’t any logical explanation for it, but I’ll tell you this.  As I was sobbing, I was reminded of this scene from Kung Fu Panda

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h4vbPfLd6c0

There is no secret ingredient.  There is no one magical mystical answer to this whole singleness thing.  Just because Person A needed to learn to be content being single doesn’t mean that’s why Person B is single.  Maybe Person B is single because they need to learn to be more willing to make good compromises.  Maybe Person C is single because they’ll never finish their education if they get distracted with a romance.  Every person is different, and we all have different life lessons to learn.  The best thing we can do is stick it out, cry if necessary, do things for others, and not lock our hearts away (no matter how much we may get hurt).

And, if all else fails, you can join me in creating a silly collection of vinyl figurines.

I Can Be Your Herooooooooo

Published June 1, 2013 by Malia

Today as I was driving to work, I realized that I have not updated this blog in nearly a month.  I had a few posts I started writing, but it was all awkward and slightly disjointed.  Mostly, I just haven’t felt like I’ve had much to write about.  Lately, my days consist of getting up, exercising, going to work, coming home, exercising, and going to bed.  My weekends replace going to work with puppet rehearsal and errands.  Oh, yeah, I’ve also been having mini-panic attacks.  I guess I’m becoming a grown-up.

Y’know, part of being a grown up is dealing with things.  Things like failures and screw-ups.  The counselor I saw last fall told me I have an adjustment disorder.  In case you’re wondering, that’s fancy talk for “doesn’t like change or accept it gracefully, if at all.”  It’s pretty much true.  Weirdly, I remember a time when I really enjoyed change.  Every time my  family would move, I’d be excited (unlike normal kids who pitch a fit about their lives being ruined).  I was convinced that each move was just another adventure.  I loved adventures.  I loved seeing new things, and meeting new people (I still love seeing new things, but not so much the whole meeting new people).  I’m not sure when this optimism melted into terror.  I just know that somewhere in the last ten years, I began to fear change.  Change was never good, nothing good could come of it.

I’m a vet tech.  I’ve even got a license from the state of Nebraska to prove this.  This means that I clawed my way through an associate’s program.  Sure, I attended a for-profit school.  I know a lot of people look down their noses at this.  However, I wasn’t just handed a degree.  I had to learn and prove I could do things like run anesthesia on a living animal (and successfully keep it alive during surgery), take radiographs, pill a cat, draw blood from a horse, assist in surgery, perform manual CBC’s, memorize more parasite’s than House ever mentioned, and a pile of other things that involved a lot more poop, pee, and blood and a lot less playing with the cute kitties and doggies.  On top of that I had to take classes.  And pass tests.  And do a 56  hour ward care week every 10 weeks (this was frequently included holidays, and I couldn’t always get the week off from my job).  Not only did I do all this, but once I did finally graduate (test anxiety helped push my 18 month plan out to being almost 3 years), I had to face the board exam.  The board exam was 225 questions covering all aspects of being a veterinary technician.  200 of the questions were scored, and 25 were thrown out, and of course we weren’t told which were the magic questions that were getting tossed.  I passed it.

The job I mentioned above?  I hated it.  I really, really hated it.  (However, I met some amazing people, and met some pets that will forever have my heart).  Not at first.  At first I loved it.  I was working in a vet clinic, and that was fantastic.  I started as a receptionist, with the understanding that I would gradually be worked into a tech position as I got further in my education.  At least, that’s what I thought.  There were a lot of things that went wrong (and most I can’t talk about, because the clinic would probably hunt me down and send dementors to suck my soul out).  I can say that the little confidence I had was destroyed by that place.  In the early days, when I was actually enthusiastic about learning to be a tech, the doctor blew me off more than once when it came to helping.  She regularly chose to have anyone but me lend a hand.  I know I wasn’t the best tech (but believe me, I’ve seen worse).  I struggled.  Lack of feeling in my fingers made blood draws next to impossible.  Emergencies made my mind go blank.  Asking people for money while they were saying good-bye to their best friend set off nuclear explosions in my heart, and  by the time I left I was completely heartless.  There was just a void.  (And yes, I know that medicine is all about the money.  Believe me there is nothing like having to ask someone in the throes of grief  and waiting for the euthanasia med to be administered, for over $100.  And when you get someone who explodes and tears you apart for something that’s killing you inside, it’s too much.  I especially hated how everyone around me acted like I was being too melodramatic.  “Sure, we hate it too.” They’d say, as I’d get ushered in to do the unpleasantness.)

I kept telling myself that I couldn’t quit.  I needed the money.  I had to pay my bills.  I think God knew I’d stay there until I had a stroke.  The job came to a painful end, but it was truly for the best.  I’ve never regretted my decision to leave.

I spent the next year looking for a job.  Most jobs that I applied to, I got replies like this:

Thanks for your time last week.  I have hired an extern instead of a full-time tech for now.  If things don’t work out, I will keep your resume.  Again, thank you for your time and good luck.   (Yeah, because a ungraduated, unlicensed, unexperienced tech is always the better option.  I translated this e-mail to mean: We don’t have to pay them, and we’d have to pay you.)

And then there’s this little gem:

After evaluating all candidates for this position we have determined that another candidate more closely fits the requirements set forth for this position. Accordingly, you will not be considered further for this particular opportunity.  

Anyway, this has been a long meandering route to get to the heart of what I wanted to talk about.  Basically, the nearly 5 years of constant rejection did quite a number on me.  I’m not proud of this.  I should be made of tougher stuff, but I’m not.  Following leaving the clinic, I really struggled with the idea of ever working in animal healthcare again.

Today, I was at work, doing my usual thing, and as I worked, my brain started thinking about things.  Things I didn’t necessarily want to think about.  I founds myself wondering if I could ever do anything good in animal healthcare.  Then, something wonderful happened.  I got a phone call.  Well, not me personally, but I’m the person who happened to answer the phone.  On the other end of the line was a vet tech who was absolutely frantic.  (And this is about where I have to skip over a pile of details, because I’m not wanting to step on HIPAA’s toes).  Long, long story short, she had a problem, and I was able to fix it.  It was positive for her, her clinic, and the animal.

Now, no one at work got why I was excited about fixing the problem.  I had done good in animal healthcare for the first time in forever!  I got to be the hero of the story.