October23
Once upon a time, I wore really ugly clothes. I’m not really sure why.
Part of me thought that dressing like Caroline Ingalls at the end of the 20 century was the holy thing to do. Part of me appreciated that someone, a particular someone, had given me a bunch of the clothes. Part of me didn’t have much money, time or place to shop for other clothes. And part of me wasn’t into to thinking for herself. But in the end, they were still ugly.
Fast forward to this past weekend. Some girl friends got together to do a clothing swap. Because all women have clothes they only wear part-time or once thought were perfect when the reality is that they don’t quite fit. Our solution – trade it!
And yet its all fun and games until someone gives you back the ugly thing you passed on to them years ago. A maternity dress made of a deep burgundy brown linen that flows just beautifully. How unfortunate that the cut of the dress resembles more a tent than anything else. Of course, no one wanted it – even those who needed it – and so it was almost off to the Value Village donation pile when I had an epiphany.
That fabric would make a beautiful neck scarf!
I’ll make one for her and one for me.
October20
After a four month hiatus, I am currently downloading the patch for World of Warcraft. My giddy anxiousness really cannot be described. I didn’t think I’d feel this way again.
When we de-activated our accounts – hubby and I – it was definitely for a nice long break. But after a month of being without the game, the temporary leave really felt more and more permanent. So much so that one day, in a fit of superiority to be sure, I tore out and threw away half a notebook of hand-written notes, information about my character, gear, professions, obsessions lovingly gleaned from web sources.
During that time, I didn’t think about the game or miss my friends or wonder if someone was keeping the boar population under control in my absence. I didn’t care about the guild or killing the next boss or whether I’d ever see Northrend. And eventually not missing it became a non-issue. Cold turkey quitting seemed to have worked because it was like I had never played. Almost.
So the ultimate question is: what drew me back? Wanting to be myself in a social environment where people were like me.
I’ve been delving deeper into my work environments – getting to know the girlz, having lunch or coffee after hours – and while I think there are potential friendships on the horizon, no one has appeared that talks my language. And my language is complicated – christian housewife turned university student and health-care worker turned MMORPG fanatic with a side salad of a seriously techie husband. I like me, but so far in this big city, I haven’t bumped heads with other women who are into these things. Conversations about makeup and fashion only entertain me so long.
Download almost done now. Come and see me on Sentinels server. I’ll be re-knitting some old friendships, learning how Wild Growth works in combat, LOVING that I can resurrect dead players any ol’ time I please and cutting my character’s hair for the very first time.
October18
Perhaps it is a common weakness, but one I’ve found especially prevalent in health-care is the labeling of patients as difficult, complaining or negative. Oddly enough, I think it would be easy to apply the same names to the professionals themselves.
There is, of course, always a history that needs to be acknowledged and passed on. However, humans are humans and if you continuously tell someone that they are x, it really doesn’t leave them much room or incentive to be otherwise.
Certainly there is a crunch on our time, definitely there is inappropriate behaviour, absolutely we cannot be at one patient’s beck-and-call when so many are under your wings, but it is imperative to go into each day fresh. Because, to me, there is a immense danger to the patient when you do anything but.
You will miss the complaint that needs to be listened to, you will miss the symptom that is most dangerous, you are may even harm indirectly with your complacence. But each and every day, you rob that soul of redemption and yourself the gift of friendship.
October16
Something not to be forgotten.
My shift. I was the one to find
That last breathe
That dreadful color bloom over her face
And ran.
Sisters holding
stethoscope listening
around one soul
that for days we had birthed
through a snowfall.
It covered us all.
cecilia
Kalanna
Holli
