the day after

Last night on her way home from work, my best friend Amy has a left side rear blow out. She was going about 60 MPH when the blow out happened. She fishtailed left then right then left then right one final time before coming to rest is a grove of small trees and bushes. Today in the day light I took a few shots. The back bumper is gone, as is the back window. Amy, thankfully, is rather okay. She strained her back and is off work for a few days, but I have seen similar situations go much worse. By all guesses - the car is totaled, but we'll find out later. If it is totaled, there is one silver lining - what ever junk yard gets this car is going to be rather happy. The engine is in great shape and will fetch a pretty penny.

Lessons from owning a dog

I have a co-worker who needed someone to watch her daughter and son-in-law's dog until the 1st of October. I volunteered. So for a week now, a dog has been living with us that is my sole responsibility. It has been a very educational experience. First lesson I learned was that no matter what time you get in at night or how few number of hours of sleep you get, there is a dog that expects to go pee every morning at 7 AM. So no matter if you get home at three, or if you have tonsillitis (like I did for the past several days), the dog expects to be let out to pee at 7 AM. Second thing I learned is - a dog will always have more energy than me. I took her out running today. Running!! I haven't ran since Fall Semester 2006. We ran/walked/jogged for an hour. Eventually, Lola decided she was done and crawled back into her crate. We went home, me satisfied that I had wore her out. 30 minutes later I'm napping in my lazy boy when Lola comes and jumps up on my lap with the energy of a teen boy on three Red Bulls. Always more energy. The last thing I'm learning is it does not matter how much you feed her prior to dinner, what ever you are serving is so much better and she will beg from the floor next to you. She seems to love her dog food, but not when you are having anything (pringles, pasta, slop).
Oh, and I learned one other thing. When dogs are in heat they bleed a little and so to keep her female parts clean, Lola is constantly licking herself down there. First though...eewwww!. Second thought, I'm so glad that the cave people didn't take after the dogs when they were developing in evolution. I would never kiss another girl if I knew she was lickin her self down there.

looking down on ant people.

Contra Costa County

My new office is 5 stories higher than my old office. Each day there are people standing at the huge window in the break room marveling at the sight. For two weeks I've tried to avoid looking. Today I ventured a gander - and it was just as I had assumed - a long ways down.

The Portrait Project Part 1

For about 2 months now I've been working on using my dad's camera to teach me about shooting portraits in black and white using film. Tonight I picked up the last roll of scanned film and these are the pictures. I learned a lot in the process. It started with the picture above. I was asked to do a photo shoot for a customer's Linked account. We took about 100 pictures. With digital that's okay, but film is bloody expensive, so I really wanted to learn how to shoot portraits without shooting so much. I made an announcement on Facebook and got three victims er...I mean volunteers.

Dave was the first volunteer.

This is probably my favorite from the initial shoot.

With David I tried to take a lot of different poses. I was trying to figure out how to pose a subject.
Next was Toni:

This is my favorite from the shoot.

This is Toni intimidating Dave.

Toni wanted to add a prop, which I forgot added more shadows to be weary of.

This is the one time that shadows made me happy. It looks like she has a necklace from her earrings.

Next was Steven. I shot pictures of him with the much prodding from Toni.

When I got this film developed I quickly saw the importance of lighting and using it for me benefit and not against me. Tomorrow I will show other shots and talk a little more about what I learned.

Baking is a sign of happiness

A few weeks ago I severed a deal with one of my roommates. When I first moved in, she was unemployed and I had a 55 minute commute, so I struck a deal. I would buy the food, she would cook it and we would eat together. Since then, she has gotten a job and my commute has gotten smaller. So last week I took back over the reins of cooking. Doing this means more than me that being able to have Mexican again or to be able to have pasta (two things Kristin can't cook). More than anything, my desire to cook or to bake is a sign to me - I'm happy again.

My first semester at BYUI I often didn't eat or only cooked small dishes for myself. Half way through my second semester I was diagnosed with delayed grieving syndrome. I dropped out of school and ran away to Oregon. Once I returned to school 6 months later I was still sad. I missed my mom (who had died 18 months prior) and I missed my ex-fiance (who had left me 7 months prior). I suffered through that first semester, forcing myself to use up the meal plan my father had purchased for me, and never baking or cooking. Over time I started to feel better. I joined an activities program that helped me feel loved and included and challenged me to do good for others - and activity I love and crave. Then one day during summer 2006 I decided to start baking for people in my ward. I started making bread from a box. I would find people in my ward that were stressed or unhappy and I would make them blue berry bread or cinnamon strudel bread. Then I started getting creative and would make instant cheese cake, from a box. Or I would make no bake cookies with extra sugar. I made family recipes. I made and I baked and I cooked and I was happy.

After graduation in 2007, I started to feel less happy. I was no longer needed in ways I was needed at BYUI. I couldn't find a group of friends to belong to. I struggled with housing situations. And I stopped baking. Sure I would make a cheese cake on occasion, when someone requested it, but for the most part - I didn't bake. During the spring of 2009, I became close with my friend Shell and I started to be happy again, so I started to bake again. Mainly cheese cakes, but I did begin to experiment with those cheese cakes - going from a pie crust to a spring form pan then to creating my own crusts and creations.  However, this was short lived as summer came and Shell moved away. When she would return, something was missing in our friendship. I never really felt like I belonged in the group we hung out with, again. And I stopped baking.

In January I moved into a new house, a new ward and a new town. I'm actually in a new county. And something began to happen. I found myself being happy. I hum more. I interact with my roommates now. I actually play games with them. And it's not just the home life. I had enough happiness to have courage to find a better job; to be more social at church; to make commitments at the house. And then I started baking. And now I'm baking every week. This week alone will be cheesecake, strawberry pie (for the roommates) and raspberry pie (for work). Last week as I baked - I danced around the kitchen listening to my new iTouch and adding ingredients. I experimented with different portions and sought the collective criticism of those who tasted. And all the while I smiled. For today I'm happy. I know because I'm baking.

Commentary for TAL - Home movies

(For some reason, I was not at all shocked to find him near the hospital and being so friendly with me. He was probably digging for pills to take home)

In what I hope will be a series, I would like to take a little time each week and comment on how "This American Life" has inspired me or sparked a thought in me. This weeks broadcast was about home movies. During the prologue prior to the first of five (!) acts, Alan Berliner talked about his research into home movies. He spent six years researching home movies and saw over half a million home movies in that time. He noticed some common themes. The one that stood out to me the most was that we film children from age negative to age 12, and then we don't film them again till their wedding. Puberty is a time for putting away the video camera. 

I found this interesting because I used to share a video camera with my brother. It was big, and bulky and attached to a VCR that had to be carried around with it. The battery life was just under an hour and so any serious taping required being near a power outlet. The Camera was a gift from my grandfather, on my dad's side. Somewhere, lost in a box, are hours of video of us grandchildren being cute and being filmed. Despite stories I've heard about my grandparents not liking being around small children, I look back and have fond memories of being taped.

This video camera I shared with my brother has one distinct memory tied into it. When I was twelve, I was really good friends with a kid named Ryan. On Ryan's screened in back porch we used to put on little shows. Once we got the camera, we filmed all of our shows. Much like the people in Act II of this weeks episode (podcast), we became some what popular. All of Ryan's siblings wanted to get in on the action. We even filmed the dog, Daisy, in several movies. There were of course many ninja scenes where Ryan directed and starred in the fighting, always beating out his younger brother, David. I stood by and filmed, where occasionally you can hear me in the distance calling out shots. 

This story doesn't end when we were 13, though. What we did with that camera started something that would turn amazing. While I went off and did sports and tech theatre, Ryan stuck with film. He went to film school and recently co-directed and wrote a documentary for the History Channel. I am always impressed with where things start.

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My other comment for this week's episode would be during the fifth act. The fifth act contains David Sedaris. I used to really love his comedy, but now I don't. The nice thing about this piece was that it didn't end in comedy. It ended in a way that was so close to home, I could see myself doing the same thing. If you only listen to one part of the episode this week - listen to that piece (and ignore all of David's swearing.)

The hospital experience

(I saw this yesterday and was so glad it was still there today, despite the May showers. I'm not sure what it is called, but I'm sure I want to plant some.)

My job consists of two locations or two types of locations. Most days I am out patient. I work with patients on a very clerical level. I schedule appointments, I get ice, I remove ice, I apply electric stem, I remove electric stem, I ultrasound, I clean the ultrasound equipment, I schedule for appointments, I bill insurance companies, I put on heat packs, I remove heat packs, I blow up balls, I change the sheets and pillow cases. 50% of my job is spent in a chair at a computer and 50% is spent running errands.

One to two days a week, I work inpatient. There are 5 levels to the hospital. I see the third, fourth and fifth floor at least twice an hour. The elevators are super slow so everyone (and it is expected of me) takes the stairs. Equipment moves between floors, often at my hand. I am responsible for stocking the Draco shoes, the Wedge shoes, the walkers, the canes, the four prong canes, and other supplies (gait belts, towels, pillow cases, and other stuff). I have separate locations scattered through out the hospital where stuff gets stored. Additionally, I'm responsible for answering assistance pages. Today I assisted an old man out of his bed into a surgery chair so he could practice sitting up. I also helped a 350 pound women sit up in bed. (she actually stopped breathing during the experience and a nurse came in and had to bag her to get her breathing again.) I helped another man in and out of a whirlpool. (oh did I mention that I'm responsible for the whirlpool as well. It takes 15 minutes to set up, 20 to 30 minutes per patient and then 45 minutes to clean.) Through the course of just today, I held onto the poo bag in my left hand while holding the urine bag in the other hand; I listened to a man tell me how great the meatballs were at lunch only to see clumps of something gray seep out of his stomach into a colonoscopy bag; I watched a man stumble from his wheelchair to a lift with blood particles dripping from his butt onto the floor below him (which I got to wipe up and some poorly paid janitor got to sanitize later). I'm so glad that I worked with little kids and their vomit for the last 2 1/2 years. My gag reflex isn't as active as it used to be. 

That all said, there are positives. First off, I have to wash my hands about every 10 minutes when I'm in the hospital. My hands have never been cleaner in my life. Secondly, unlike my last job where it was first last and always - clorox bleach is rarely used. Nearly all of the hospital uses this red topped thing that has sani wipes in it. We used these for the first 14 months of my last job before switching to bleach. At my new job I don't go home smelling like bleach nor do my clothes get ruined. Thirdly, Because of all of the time I spend not sitting down (I walk between 5-10 miles a day, half of which is taking stairs), I have lost 5 pounds since I started 2 1/2 weeks ago. Because every floor looks the same, I'm still getting lost in the hospital. (More than once I've ended up in the nursery where they get real nervous with random people wondering around.) Because of the lostness, I'm meeting a lot of interesting people and seeing things I haven't seen before. 

In summary - some days I really hate being in the hospital and other days I love it. Rumor has it, it might be my permanent home. If so, some days will be filled with me praying for a opening at my last job.

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Because today was rather stressful, I came home and made pies. If you live in the area, swing on by for some experimental berry pie.