Audiosalve

What do I got to do to get a break around here?

2008-10-21T10:23:00.000-07:00

After 13+ years together, me and my lipoma separated this past weekend. At first, I didn't know what it was called. It was merely a bump on my back that continually grew and grew. It has been with me through many events in my life like: college graduation from pharmacy school, an experiment with acupuncture, learning rock climbing, learning yoga, hiking in parts of the grand canyon, hiking in Flagstaff, meeting & marrying my wife, trips to Hawaii, a trip to Brazil, purchasing my first home, and owning multiple bicycles and automobiles.

It's not that I miss the thing though. It grew to become way too demanding. At first it merely an anomaly that I didn't really pay any attention to. Then on one of our Havasupai trips I realized it was growing. I eventually had it checked out at the hospital I worked at and was given a name. Apparently lipomas are pretty common and the surgeon whom I consulted about the thing ended up showing me that he had some as well. The advice I got from two physicians was to leave it alone unless it interfered with my lifestyle.

Ignore it? Heck I can do that! So I went on my merry way for a few years until I realized it was starting to give me some pain as it kept growing. Then it started to bother me when I drove for long distances or on taught suspension because it would be pressed into my back as I sat in a car. Still, I ignored it and drove my MINI anyway.

Then I begun to realize that it started to affect my sleeping habits. I usually sleep on my back and I was now forced to sleep on my side. For me, this was the last straw. I got another consult and scheduled a visit to have it removed.

It was very strange to be on the other side of the hospital experience. Usually I am one of the health care providers so when I became the patient, it seemed a world of difference. Thankfully, everything went very well although I did not get to take it home in a bottle filled with formaldehyde (you know, as a bilobular squishy souvenir).

So as part of my recovery, I stayed home for a few days. This is rare because I've always gotten bored easily and taking a break from work is a big deal due to the horrible schedule we are currently pulling. My mother will attest to the many times I whined to her, "Mom, I'm bored".

On day one, I slept quite a bit because I felt behind on my rest. On day two I tried to take it easy but ended up helping my wife clean the house because we were expecting company. On day three, boredom really started to set in along with a quite sense of desperation. Would I be able to survive all of my days off without going mad with cabin fever? On day four I watched a couple of strange movies and took a hacksaw to our bar stools because they were just too tall. I am now in day five and I've driven 1 and 1/2 hours away in order to visit the supermarket and have lunch at a sandwich shop just because it would get me out of the house.

Now I have one more day to go at home and then it's back to the daily grind for a couple of days. Of course, I'm already wondering when I can get back on the climbing walls. Now that I have a few less ounces to care up the routes, perhaps I will improve. Yeah, one could always hope.

August 16th 2008

2008-10-20T20:59:00.000-07:00

What do Hugh Jackman, Maya Angelou, and Clint Eastwood have in common? They were all at our wedding. Friends and family, some with famous names or similarities to famous faces, attended a small ceremony in Flagstaff to watch us wed. It was an exhausting, multi-cultural, exhilarating, complicated to organize, surprisingly easy to perform, whirlwind of an experience where we were so glad that we could have family and friends together. It was such a full day that we are still trying to figure out what entirely happened. While a few things didn't go as planned, the purpose of the entire day was accomplished because we said "I will" and our guests got to eat. Everything else was icing on the cake or in our case, carabiners and water bottles. The pictures are done but we must work at choosing among the many, many pictures for a book. Meanwhile, people keep asking us how married life is. We have not miraculously morphed into something else and have seen no extreme differences in our relationship so we really don't know how to answer except by saying...it's good.

Got Sugarhigh?

2008-10-20T20:19:00.000-07:00

The monsters are coming! We are considered the "rich folks" in our small town because we work at the hospital so people from all around bring their kids up to the compound to do some trick-or-treating. I guess status is all a matter of perspective. The first few years of this holiday I would turn off all my lights, lock all the doors, and cower in candlelight waiting for the madness to subside. The draw is so great that hospital security had to get involved and direct traffic in order to avoid mass chaos and avoid costumed little ones competing with automobiles for space. As we are all health care workers in the neighborhood, some people try to give out other things besides candy but most succumb to the overwhelming demand for candy. I've seen pencils, tooth brushes, little toys, and play dough given but the sheer number of items required to survive the night makes giving candy the path of least resistance. When my wife arrived on the scene, she altered the course of my all-hollows-eve experience by organizing candy pools every year. This brought people together to carve pumpkins and give out candy in one large pool in order to have enough sweet sacrifices for the onslaught of children that line up at the door for hours. Indeed the demand is so large that some years a candy pool is inadequate to quench the thirst for candy. One year when we ran out of candy, we were reduced to handing out artificial sweetener packets, individual potato chips, and anything else we would think of. We even debated giving out canned goods. Sometimes kids don't even have a costume and they run around the housing trying to get as much sugar as they can. In this fever pitch, they seem to not notice at all the chill in the air and the possible dusting of snow. I'm not sure who invented this holiday but it sure helps out candy manufacturers, costume designers, dentists, and the tooth fairy. Considering the high level of obesity in the country and the high incidence of diabetes in this area, I would like to say that I will be giving out something healthy but that wouldn't exactly be accurate. The truth is that I need to stop writing and go stock up on some candy. Why? Well, didn't I explain...the monsters are coming!

Still

2008-10-20T17:11:00.000-07:00

Somedays I imagine that I am something else. A writer? A poet? A professional mountain biker or volleyball player or basketball player or some other sport in which I am physically challenged. Perhaps a free lance photographer able to travel to distant lands eating exotic foods, bringing back award winning photos, and somehow not becoming jaded or overweight. Perhaps a TV show would follow on satellite TV. Perhaps someone would pay me to give my opinion about nothing at all.

Somedays I can't believe I am who I am. Sometimes I reflect on the amount of hard work and sheer luck that has allowed me to be where I am now. The ladder is not easy to climb. There are those days when you feel like you really help someone. Those days when you see people in their most scared and darkest times and reassure them that things will get better. Once in a great while you hear a sincere "Thank You" and it all comes back to me. I remember the early days when I felt like I learned something everyday and taught someone something every day. Somedays I wonder what happened to that naive energy I used to carry with me to work.

Somedays I see myself in others. In the fresh faces just out of school trying to take on the world. Those amazed at the clumsy system in which we participate on a daily basis. The well meaning goal that gets bogged down in red tape, the government kind that needs 3 copies of everything but still manages to lose all of them year after year. You begin to recognize the faces of those that have worked with the system for awhile. You share with them the stories and learn to pick your battles.

Somedays dare to dream about how the operation could run so much smoother if we had more staff, more space, more automation, updated technology, and the means to maintain it all. Usually, I am brought back to earth by the daily grind. The survival mode we are currently in that turns that bright-eyed energy into a quiet, desperate wish to just make it through the day. Survival becomes your mantra. You rearrange your outlook on life once in awhile but the core remains the same: defining the lines between yourself and work to keep your sanity.

Still, I am here.

Still, I don't know where else I would be.

Still, this place has become part of my identity

Still, I believe in what we are doing.

Still, our world keeps turning and I roll up my sleeves to play my part.

Happy CC Day

2008-03-25T19:31:00.000-07:00

I tried to listen to them all day at work but was annoyingly interrupted with people who wanted drugs all day.

Don't these people know that I've all been waiting years for this? Counting Crows releases their new double album today.

Unfortunately, I'm 2 1/2 hours away from the music store and I'm on call so I can't really go anywhere until Friday. I guess I could download it through the internet but I'm still pretty old school because I still like to physically buy the CD and enjoy unwrapping the cellophane in delicious anticipation while I walk to my car.

I still have to wait for a few days. Patience, patience... it's a dumb virtue.

Paper-thin

2008-02-24T19:44:00.000-08:00

Some days, my skin is paper-thin
And what people say affects me.
Some days, I want to say what I think
But my tact prevents me.
By the grace of an unknown strength
I get through those days
When I feel like I could explode
Leaving burnt bridges in my wake.

Other days, I brush off the world,
Freeing my shoulders with ease.
Other days, the waiting demands
Are easier to please.
I recall that my hard times
Are another’s best days.
Sometimes, my perspective
Is all that gets in the way.

10-10-10

2008-02-22T10:10:00.000-08:00

“10 years, 10 months, 10 days”, that’s how long my electronic file says I’ve worked here. Sometimes I wonder how I’ve survived the madness. Some days it seems like forever, like the addition of the many, many rings on a Sequoia tree. Some days it all seems like a blink of an eye. It seems like it was yesterday that I was the newbie here. Today, things seem to go extra slow as I ponder the intersection of time and events. Eleven years will mark how long it took for me to buy property. I have a home inspection tomorrow and if everything goes well, I will have property in Flagstaff in a month. Six months will mark how long I’ve been the Acting Pharmacy Chief. We have an interview next week for the position so, hopefully, I will be relinquishing those duties soon. Within the last 4 years our pharmacy has seen less people come than go and the next few months don’t look any better. Some people want to retire, some people want to go back to school, and some people just want to go somewhere else. Still, after 10 years, 10 months, and 10 days, I should have learned that no matter what the staffing situation is, the pharmacy wheel somehow keeps on turning.

Oysters

2008-02-07T12:40:00.000-08:00

People keep telling me

that the world could be my oyster.

I keep telling people

that I don't care for oysters.

Besides,

what do you do if you're allergic?

What if you like shrimp?

Maybe I just haven't made up my mind.

she likes

2008-02-06T22:41:00.000-08:00

she likes baseball and I don't watch sports

she orders the steak while I have the salad

she lifts weights while I do yoga

she plans parties while I'm the recluse

but it all works out

she sleeps in while I get up early

she likes angry white boy music while I listen to the blues

she would give the shirt off her back while I trust very few

she washes dishes while I cook

but it all works out

she likes to watch cartoons while I go for a run

she uses brute strength while I try finesse

she likes McDonalds and I like Wendys

she goes for hikes while I like my bikes

but it all works out

she spends money while I like to save it

she likes to worry while I don't care to

she likes to believe and I like to to question

she likes Pooh bears and I like guitars

but it all works out

and my world is a better place

because of what she likes

Pigs, the blues, and unicorns

2008-02-06T20:07:00.000-08:00

hey, I put some new shoes on and suddenly everything's right

I said hey, I put some new shoes on and everybody's smiling, it's so inviting

oh, short on money but long on time

slowly strolling in the sweet sunshine

and I'm running late and I don't need an excuse

'cause I'm wearing my brand new shoes

Paolo Nutini

Maybe if I got some new climbing shoes, the world would be a better place. Maybe I'd fly up those 5.11s instead of muddling and sweating through, taking a break with every move. Maybe my feet would be feather light and my soul would be fancy free of gravity, free of the restraints of physics, free of the constraints of the mind. Maybe I could fly!

Maybe....and maybe pigs will grow wings and fly. Maybe unicorns will come into my back yard, maybe I will learn to play guitar like Stevie Ray Vaughn and I'll start touring with Buddy Guy, maybe the world will pay me to have me take their picture, maybe I'll invent the next iCoke, and maybe I'll win a million dollars and promptly give it away because it's just chump change.

Regardless of the truth....I may still dream a little dream and get the shoes.

Sideways (an ode to a bagel)

2008-02-03T20:27:00.000-08:00

Oh bagel of Biff's,

I know not what they put in you

that makes you taste so good.

Should I compare thee to a summers day?

As we drive up on in a cold winter,

we know your breakfast warmth will welcome us in.

Is it addiction? I'm not sure,

but we buy 2 baker's dozens

and 2 breakfast sandwiches whenever we go.

That's 28 bagels between the two of us.

All we know is

Assiago Cheese is good,

Salt is good but very strong,

Pumkin is good,

Blueberry is good,

Cinnamon Raisin is good,

Cranberry Walnut is one of my favs,

and my girl loves the Sesame.

Oh bagels of Biff's

you have made us turn up our noses

at those bagels from supermarkets,

at those bagels from warehouse stores

who are lackluster in comparison.

They are the Yugo to your Rolls Royce,

the 5.4 to your 5.12c,

the JcPenny to your Prada,

the Shasta to your Coke,

the Sizzler to your Morton's Steakhouse

the country to your blues....

It's all the fault of our last homeboy and boss

J Dawg Player

who asked us to go to Biff's Bagels in Flagstaff

one weekend to get him a little bit of heaven.

Little did we know that we would be returning

there every chance we got.

Oh bagel of Biffs ,

I am a little afraid to know

what they put in you that makes you so good

but we will eat you anyway

with smiles on our faces so wide,

that we have to walk out the door sideways.

a chili pepper

2008-01-21T19:08:00.000-08:00

i've been so busy with life that I've forgotten how to live

good intentions wait at my door with their tails wagging

a bike that's made for cycling,

a bow that's made for flexing,

a mat that's made for posing,

but i'm out shopping for new experiences

with money that's made for spending

and shoes that made for climbing

looking for wit,

a little peace,

and perhaps an expansion of the limits set by my mind

what does this all mean? i don't even know myself

much like the lyrics of a Chili Peppers song,

the true meaning is hidden amongst

a stream of seemingly random words

yet words that flow together

they are a babbling brook

that slowly turns into a waterfall

by virtue of it's determination and direction

the 5.11 i keep throwing myself at doesn't like me anymore

because i've also been flirting with a 5.10 lead

it's crimpy holds spit me off and enjoy watching me fall

but in all honesty it shouldn't worry

because the roof moves on that 10 lead still scare the crap out of me

still trying to push those limits but they keep pushing back

trying to get that "wicked" climb but time doesn't seem to be on my side

dude,how much time do we have anyway?

dude, who's that old guy that keeps trying that climb anyway?

the thick,cold winter air cleans my head of cobwebs

and but makes me cough

there always seems to be some good and bad

the blanket of snow covering the ice underneath

the beautiful columns of ice reflected in the morning sun

before they crash onto the concrete

waking me from daydreams

the dreams are coming back again,

dreams of enjoying work the way I used to,

dreams of visiting a far away island,

dreams of tying the knot,

purchasing a home in Flagstaff,

the New Year palpably young and optimistic,

making funny faces and high pitched screams of excitement

as it learns to walk before it can run

on little, cold, bare feet

it takes my dreams

and threatens to make them come true

be careful what you wish for

and have faith that it will all turn out OK

welcome to a new day

"Hustle, bustle and so much muscle awww

Cells about to separate

And I find it hard to concentrate and

temporary this cash and carry

I'm stepping up to indicate

the time has come to deviate and

All I want is for you to be happy and..."

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Learning to walk

2008-01-17T20:59:00.000-08:00

Like a bad cliffhanger, the pharmacy was saved at the very last moment.

We had to get our hospital's Chief Executive Officer involved but eventually the pharmacy contract payments were pushed through our financial system and our pharmacists were paid.

All of our permanent pharmacists were finally able to take a breath and relax a little.

Eventually, I ended up calling the owner of the company and thanking him personally for putting up with our crazy financial system and not pulling his pharmacists although he had every right to.

The madness ended on a good note as our financial system seems to be getting on it's feet and taking a few steps. Like a toddler we all hold our breath and hope that it doesn't fall again as it staggers, regains balance,and finally learns to walk.

Hey buddy, can you spare $80,000?

2007-12-31T19:18:00.000-08:00

That's about how much we need to keep our pharmacists, and we have 7 days to pay it.

In October, our company decided to go with a new financial management system which has failed miserably. It still is not working after 3 months and the bills are pilling higher and higher as our organization has decided to pay things manually (translation: by paper). Welcome back to the stone age!

So time is flying by as paper is being shuffled from this office to that. Signatures here, forms to fill out, new forms to fill out, old forms to fill out again, papers get lost, papers get copied, new instructions come out, more forms to fill out , more copies to make, papers being shuffled again...finally, these companies that we hire temporary health care professional from had had enough. Finally, they decided they are pulling out. Who can blame them really, after not being paid for 3 months, I would have a hard time with having my people working with our company.

So, we have a week to pay in full or our pharmacists get pulled. These pharmacists are 1/2 of our staff and they do 60-80% of the daily work in our pharmacies so we can attend to other stuff, like go on vacation, do projects, go to trainings, do administrative things, etc....

The latest word is that they will indeed get paid by Friday but I've have been told this before so I'm not so a small part of me is not convinced yet.

If I had the money, I would just pay them myself. I think they have earned it. Of course, if I had that kind of money that I could give away, I probably wouldn't be working where I am.

Anyhow, if anyone out there has money to burn...perhaps you can loan me some.

S.A.

2007-12-29T21:25:00.001-08:00

Hello, my name is....and I 'm a shopaholic.

I helped drive Double L to the big city in order for her to fly out to her yearly bigger city New Year's events with her family.

Of course, the wheels of consumerism are running full steam because it is that time of year. My perceptions of this are even more acute because I've come from a town of a few thousand to what seems like a few thousand people in each store. The lines snake through the stores. The parking lots have no asphalt to offer. The carts are all in use. People run past you to get into the store before you as if they've read your mind and realized that the one thing you want is the one thing they want. The sales people keep requesting for help over the intercoms but it's all in vain.

You would think that I would avoid the whole thing altogether but I've spent the day getting in the middle of it. REI was packed and I spent over an hour there trying things on, looking at sales, checking out sizes, in short, admiring the designer camping gear. Not only am I an admirer, I am also a member, so the REI stores around here feel quite comfortable. Still, I spent a whole lot of time looking and not actually purchasing anything. What would seem, at first, a testament to my frugal willpower will later be revealed as merely information gathering for an internet spending spree. That's the usual method to my madness.

Of course, I checked out the competition as well, although this sorta city doesn't really have much to go head-to-head with REI. Still, the other smaller shops didn't have anything better.

What was amazing was the sheer amount of people shopping. The buzz is in the air, it fills your lungs, and gets absorbed into your bloodstream. I found myself staring at things that I already have. OK, maybe it's the newest version of what I have, but what I have fulfills my needs. Nonetheless I had visions of purchasing quite a few items that I knew I didn't need:

Patagonia shoes, jackets, and pants (even though I have more than enough)

REI laptop computer bags (although I just got one recently)

Barnes & Noble writing journals (although I have blank ones at home)

Fleece sweaters (although I have more than I ever wear)

Apple anything (ipod, iphone, ijustspentmyentirecheck)

A Canon camera (even though I have many cameras)

Climbing shoes (even though I have quite a few pairs)

Watches (although I only have two wrists)

I keep looking for that deal that I just couldn't pass up but it never came. I guess it's a good thing I'm headed back to my small town tomorrow because I would be broke if I stayed in this environment too long.

Still, there's always the internet and I can do that from home.

Time, time, time, see what's become of me..

2007-12-29T21:05:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I want to leave it all behind. Maybe I'll become a writer, a poet, a musician, a professional climber, a photographer, something-that-has-nothing-to-do-with-the-stress-of-my-life sort of profession. In my mind I'm having great success writing novels, composing poems, performing songs, climbing in all parts of the world, taking pictures and living the life I dream of having. Critics love my novels, universities teach my poems, crowds cheer for my songs, climbers test themselves against the climbing routes I put up, museums make space for my photos, and I have no worries.

The problem is, success only comes to a small percentage and many times luck has more to do with it than the quality of your artwork. I just don't know if I am ready to suffer for my art.

OK, maybe I just need a simpler job. Something that I can blissfully ignore the world and still feel a sense of accomplishment. Washing cars? Mopping floors? Make wooden toys? Carpentry? I don't know. I guess that one can argue that filling prescriptions could be one of those jobs. I guess it comes down to giving up the weight of responsibility. Maybe I just need to go back to days when I knew nothing of upper management.

I guess I'll start working on a time machine with what little free time I have.

driven to drink

2007-12-26T19:22:00.000-08:00

The stress of work has driven me to drink.

Now I consume 2 cans of Coke Zero instead of 1 in a day.

All those endless meetings.

All those leave slips to approve.

All the issues that come up,

who's mad at who,

who's not doing their job,

who's wanting my time,

who's trying to get more than their dime.

It's a wonder I having gone off the deep end

of a hard liquor pool.

Instead,

I just enjoy another can of Coke.

Ahhhhh........

Run!!!

2007-12-19T06:15:00.000-08:00

As the New Year approaches,
I close my eyes and brace myself,
moments later,
the anticipation forces me to take a peek
which makes me lose my nerve
so I turn around and run the other way.

Sadly, I can't run very far.

Never mind how many decades

2007-12-03T19:13:00.000-08:00

I just couldn't do it.

A couple of days ago was my high school reunion (never mind how many decades it marked). Even though I did receive a phone call from a dear friend from long, long ago and I ended up getting in touch with another friend whom I hadn't talked to since high school graduation...I still couldn't bring myself to go. While the location of the reunion was only a few hours from here it was a lifetime away. A lifetime I felt like I couldn't span.

I got email updates about how people were getting together to raise money in order to have entertainment. I got emails regarding submitting pictures and biographies, about basketball tournament fundraisers and bingo... I got emails that indicated who might actually be there but I still couldn't do it.

What was it? Was high school really that bad?

Well YES, it was. I don't think I could go through the emotional torture again. I saw high school as a portal to the next world, which was college. That's not to say that I did not have great friendships and lessons learned that shaped the rest of my life. Everything that's happened to me has gotten me to this point so there wouldn't be a me without high school but I just couldn't go back. Not in time, not in my mind, and not physically to the reunion.

Hopefully all of those that went had a blast. I just knew that I would not.

Would you go?

"Sonny sits by the window and thinks to himself

how it's strange that some rooms are like cages

Sonny's yearbook from high school is down from the shelf

and he idly thumbs through the pages

Some have died, some have fled from themselves

or struggled from here to get there

Sonny wonders beyond his interior walls,

runs his hands through his thinning brown hair.."

The Obvious Child - Paul Simon

What's the best way to clean up confetti?

2007-12-02T19:33:00.000-08:00

Madness erupts as you open this website. Kool & The Gang start singing "Celebration", confetti spews up into the air, firecrackers go off, balloons start their ascent into the lower reaches of the atmosphere, the major arrives to make his speach, ushers come to take you to your place on the lead car in the parade....

Welcome to my 100th blog entry! What have you won? Not a whole lot I'm afraid. Unfortunately, I really don't have much to say right now so you should probably move onto my 99th entry below.

PS - sorry about the confetti and the band will need to be paid.

It's good to be king?

2007-12-02T19:05:00.000-08:00

Lately I have been reminded of a song by Tom Petty from his Wildflowers CD:

It's good to be king if just for awhile
to be there in velvet, yeah to give them a smile.
It's good to get high and never come down
it's good to be king of your own little town.

Yeah the world would swing if I were king.
Can I help it if I still dream time to time?

It's good to be king and have your own way,
get a feeling of peace at the end of the day,
and when your bulldog barks and your canary sings,
you're out there with winners, it's good to be king.

Yeah, I'll be king when dogs get wings.
Can I help it if I still dream time to time?

It's good to be king and have your own world,
it helps to make friends, it's good to meet girls.
A sweet little queen who can't run away
it's good to be king, whatever it pays.

Why is this song running through my head?

Well in these United States of America,
it this state of Arizona,
in a small town on the Navajo Reservation,
in an Indian Health Service hospital,
in the medical staff room,
there hangs a picture of me
with the following caption,
"All hail the drug king."

Someday I want to sneak into the med staff room and add this to the caption, "Well go ahead, start hailing!"

I find it all amusing. Probably because I am smart enough to avoid illusions of grandeur and a swelled head. The reason I am where I am is because of unfortunate circumstances. Basically, our boss left and they needed someone to fill his shoes until they could find a replacement. I believe it was someone on the med staff who, while everyone else was congratulating me, offered me his condolences for becoming the head of my department. In fact, it may be the same person who put up that picture of me. Hmmmmmm...how do I respond to this?

27 times

2007-11-24T18:04:00.000-08:00

I'm not usually a melancholy romantic fool but...OK, OK, I am a closet romantic. Please don't tell anyone but I actually listen to Rod Stewart sometimes and I know words to quite a few sappy love songs by people like Chicago, Air Supply, Sade, and Nine Inch Nails. OK, maybe not NIN.

Anyway, Double L has been gone to Chicago since Monday to visit her family. The house just isn't the same. I've been doing more eating out than I should, which get very repetitive when you're in a small town with limited food choices. I'm usually pretty good at cooking for myself but I just didn't feel like it. In fact, I haven't felt like doing much at all. At first I thought it was the stress of work but it didn't take long for me to realize. You know, I used to be one of those guys that had no problems with going to dinners and movies alone. My,how times have changed. I would have to say that it has been a change for the better.

I keep thinking of that song by Bill Withers (1971) "Ain't no sunshine." I will admit that I had to look up who sang the song but the song itself keeps running through my head.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone

it's not warm when she's away

ain't no sunshine when she's gone

and she's always gone too long

when she's gone away...

Of those of you who know this song, there's a part where he sings "I know" 27 times. Apparently, he was going to add more lyrics there at some point but decided to leave those 2 words repeating when he got to recording the song. 27 times...wow, I wonder who's job it was to count them.

I recently heard a Sting version that's really, really good. Of course all of the Sting fans knew it would be a great song..."I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know..."(well, you get the point).

Relativity + Sheryl = Turkey Day

2007-11-21T20:14:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I see how other people live,

sometimes I wish I had things better,

until I realize that I do.

Life is hard,

and many times harder than mine,

for a majority of people out there.

I think it was a Sheryl Crow song

that said

"it's not getting what you want

but wanting what you've got."

Sometimes I forget that wealth,

like time and space,

is relative.

I must make time

to appreciate what I have

on this day and others to follow.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

the comfort of denial

2007-11-16T20:19:00.000-08:00

the keys to my life are sitting on the kitchen counter

and a sad song is coming in from outer space

work seems desperate these days

I'm hoping it's a phase we are going through

because there is this sick feeling in my stomach

that it may not be

in my head, I get all melodramatic,

run around waving my hands

yelling that it's the end of the world

as everyone ignores me in favor of the comfort of denial

in actuality,

it's the end of the world every single day

the only difference today is that I am seeing

what happens behind the curtain

the Great and Powerful Oz

has been revealed to be an ordinary man

and ignorance has been revealed to be bliss

I wish for the best

expect the worst

and live somewhere in the middle

trying to find my balance

amongst slippery contracts

and teetering schedules

this is the new life

that I'm not so certain that I enjoy

sometimes I fantasize

about how it used to be

as it turns out,

there is something to be said

about having your head in the sand

So I went to the post office today.....

2007-11-15T11:48:00.000-08:00

Tis' the season to get catalogs,

Fa la la la la, la la la la

Now I have to go to recycling,

Fa la la la la, la la la la

when will they stop sending me these?

Fa la la la la, la la la la

They won't stop until we run out of trees.

Fa la la la la, la la laaaaaa laaaaaaaaa

At least it's not ___________________

2007-11-14T20:12:00.000-08:00

I'm obsessed with mouthwash.

It started with Listerine

but it burned my mouth so much

that it hurt

and I actually took the pain until

I nearly finished the huge bottle

that I foolishly bought.

Then I moved onto Crest

which did not burn

because of the lack of alcohol

but it had this incredibly strong aftertaste.

Said aftertaste would last 16 hours or more.

I know this because it tainted my taste of food

the day after I would use it.

I may be obsessed with a clean mouth

but I was more obsessed with working taste buds,

so I moved on.

Next came Scope

which still has the burn

but less alcohol than Listerine

and does not seem to interfere

with my taste buds.

This trial period is still ongoing

and there are so many brands to try.

They say that that admitting you have a problem

is the first step to recovery

but I say, it's mouthwash

perhaps if we were all obsessed with it,

we would put dentists out of business.

At least it's not something harmful

like....

(insert foolish, mind altering obsession here)

The smell of fresh ground coffee

2007-11-10T13:29:00.000-08:00

The smell of fresh ground coffee is enticing. People come by and order espresso, iced coffee, debate the expense of the beans, chit-chat with the woman behind the counter, take their hot drinks, and leave a tip. I don’t drink coffee. I had a bad coffee experience when I was younger because of the thick coal tar sludge that my mother used to drink. The amount of sugar, milk, and yet more sugar that would be needed to make it palatable would hardly define it as coffee anymore. Still, it smelled good.

A couple of musicians, presumably preparing to perform, are tuning up their acoustic guitar and violin which blends into the sounds of the espresso machine, the phone ringing, and the cash register. A few feet away from the counter, five college youths crowd around a small chess table and intently watch each other’s moves. They seem to be trying to unlock ancient secrets hidden somewhere in the chess pieces as they move them from square to square. At the next table people are relaxing, resting, telling jokes, laughing hysterically, and going over their day so far. It is all very interesting and quite a world away from my usual life of prescriptions to fill, schedules changes to approve, complaints to address, meetings to attend, and deadlines to ignore until they bite you in the a$#.

I am sitting in a local bookstore in Flagstaff, taking advantage of wireless Internet, and taking a break from moving all day. It’s been a 2 1/2 hour drive to get here but I’ve done it so many times that it doesn’t really seem all that far to me anymore. I like Flagstaff. I like it so much that I’ve considered buying property here. Soon I may be cruising the local neighborhoods to get a sense of noise levels from the interstate and the intermittent but ever-present train whistle. Where to live? What to buy? What would suit me? Am I a condo with a golf course, swimming pool, and recreation center available? Or am I just a condo by itself sitting in the woods. I can’t decide.

Still, this is all hypothetical so I don’t really have to decide now. I figure that it will come to me at some point. Of course, I’ve been debating this for over a year now and the debate goes on and on.

The musicians have gotten in a couple of songs by now and it’s quite relaxing. Some people stop and look for a few minutes before going on with their shopping. Some people ignore them completely. Some people clap politely at the end of each song. I’m not quite sure what kind of somebody I am. Maybe I'm a somebody that hides behind their laptop watching the world go by. Maybe. But that is one of those questions you can spend your whole life answering. Instead, I just let the sounds and the smells of the bookstore take me away.

Hmm...maybe I should check out the Blues section of their used CDs... so much for relaxing.

Attack of the killer goatheads

2007-11-02T21:44:00.000-07:00

Goatheadius Horribilius,
they are everywhere,

there's just so many of them,

on our shoes they hitch a ride where they can plant another seed,

on the sidewalk they stick out their thorny thumbs,

in my bike tires they cause me anguish as they slowly let the air out,

they've been a name of a local frisbee football team as the Flying Goatheads,

while not on me, they've been the inspiration of at least 1 tattoo that I know of,

they are a pain in our bare feet as somehow they end up in the house

(mahalo for taking your shoes off),

they are like a bad horror movie

trying to take over the world

one painful barb at a time.

sometimes

2007-11-02T20:07:00.000-07:00

sadness happens everyday

thinly veiled behind the usual routine

loved ones

get sick

suffer

sometimes pass away

we are left feeling powerless

stumbling through the day

seeking the comfort

of the path well worn

we must step gently sometimes

we must talk softly sometimes

because

thinly veiled behind the usual routine

sadness happens everyday

(for a coworker who lost a loved one)

Joshua Lilly

2007-10-28T15:15:00.000-07:00

We went to Joshua Tree recently. While we had a great time... although it was not quite what I expected.

The Joshua Trees are not really trees at all. Apparently, they are from the Lilly plant family. This really doesn't mean much to me except that it's not a tree! They are spectacular though. The sight of masses of J Trees growing amongst piles of huge, rounded granite boulders is a sight to behold. The J Trees did have some competition though...the yucca are huge, the needle-less cactus are very strange, and the red barrel cactus are very....well, very red.

Still, the whole reason I really wanted to go was for the climbing. That didn't really turn out so well. We were warned that the climbing in J Tree was rated by standards that arose before rock climbing became so mainstream so they were rated a lot harder than what people are now used to. We were also warned that we would have to make our own climbing anchors but I foolishly and blissfully ignored the warnings and went anyway. I told myself that it even if the climbing didn't work out, the park would be awesome. Well, the climbing didn't work out and the park was very nice... but I would not say that it was awesome.

JT Climbing Day 1 - Retreat!

This was our call after the first day. I had gotten up all excited to finally do some climbing after a 7 1/2 hour drive to get to J Tree. We all got ready and headed to a very intermediate cliff only to find that there were literally a dozen people there already. So, I figured that while we were there, we should probably see how they were doing the anchors so we have some idea of what we were getting into. Yeah, we didn't have the cams and 30 foot webbing needed to set anchors at that particular area. Our party was used to sport climbing where anchors were already bolted into the rock. This was a whole new ball game.

So we headed over to another set of boulders to see about setting up an anchor so we could all top-rope something. We did find a way to the top but didn't feel comfortable with the gear we had to set an anchor. Since none of us had any real experience with setting traditional climbing anchors, we felt like we probably shouldn't risk our lives on something we were sketchy about.

After lunch and bouldering around for a little bit, we decided to try a 3rd spot. There we actually did get an anchor set but it was not long enough. One of our party of six got to climb but could not get lowered on the rope because the rope did not completely clear the very rounded edge of the cliff. Fortunately, there was a way to walk off the rock so he was not stuck up there.

By then I'd had it. The sun, the frustrations, and the feeling that we've bitten off more that we can chew all came on at once. I was done. We tried a little more, then we decided to drown our sorrows and frustrations with shopping at the climbing gear store in the town of Joshua Tree.

At the shop we investigated hiring a rock climbing guide but thought that was too expensive for the 6 of us. We then bought some gear (they had a sale going on), a bouldering guide as a backup, and got some free advice on where to go from the cashier. He had a small list of some places where the anchors were bolted...much like what we were used to doing.

JT Climbing Day 2 - The Day of False Hope

We awoke with hope that we would be able to climb something today. We made our way into the park and saw Joshua Trees for the first time. They are spectacular in a strange and sharply pointed way. We quickly decided to rename the park "Squiggly Tree National Forrest" after seeing the seemingly haphazardly way the Joshua Trees grew.

After getting a little bit lost, we finally made it to our destination in the park. Our hope and excitement propelled us around and over rocks trying to figure out if we could reach the bolted anchors and set up a top-rope or two.

Our excitement waned as a climbing couple set up underneath a climb that we were trying to get to from the back of the rocks. They obviously had been here before, or had a lot more experience than we had. The lead climber made it look easy but it was apparent to me that we would not be able to do what they are doing. And that was the "easy" climb in this area.

After sitting around for awhile I spotted some accessible bolted anchors on the opposite side and set up a top-rope there. Unfortunately, this was on a very, very hard climb that we had no real hope of completing. By this time I just wanted to climb something, anything. So, one by one, we threw ourselves at this climb while also doing some bouldering on the side. The bouldering was pretty difficult too so I felt like I was a little fish in a suddenly very large pond.

Lunch had us watching a couple of very good climbers who borrowed our top-rope set up. The first guy made it look easy. It seemed like he just floated up that thing. The second guy did not complete the climb but still got farther than any of us did.

The easy crags at home started to look better and better. After this display, we decided we'd had enough. We drove out of the park to the visitor's center, bought a few things, and headed to dinner.

J Tree - Day 3

Everyone in our party left except 2 of us. H and I got out of the house we all rented at the crack of noon, went for lunch, checked into the quaint but strange motel we would be staying in, checked out the next town for a bit, and then headed for a hike in J Tree in the evening. The hike was actually very nice. We got to see the sun set and the moon rise over the enormous rock formations at Ryan's Mountain. We then had dinner at a BBQ joint that wasn't bad.

J Tree - Day 4

We woke and got the heck out of dodge. We'd decided we'd had enough.

So that was our trip. I learned a lot but climbed a little. Still, it beats workin!

Recycling Espionage

2007-09-16T20:32:00.000-07:00

Our recycling boxes were overflowing. We had so much recycling that we filled up the 2 boxes that we usually had and had an extra 2 large paper bags stuffed full. In fact, one of paper bags busted open and had to be taped while the other threatened to do the same. I had been putting it off...diligently ignoring the mess every time I walked to the kitchen, until now. The time had come.

I listened to see if the neighbors were home. You see, this would have to be a stealth mission. My neighbor runs the volunteer recycling center here on the compound and she is known for her recycling passion. To gain access to the recycling center whenever you want, you must be sworn into the Recycling clan. Once inducted into the recycling clan, you are expected to volunteer a couple times a month. My fiance usually goes the volunteering and I usually haul the recycling. Yeah, it's kinda lazy of me but it works out between the two of us.

Judging from the silence next door, it's all clear so I get all the boxes and bundles ready to go. Unfortunately, just as I get the first two boxes into the 4Runner, my neighbor comes out of her house. Busted! I'm sure she is going to mention that today is not recycling day and that I should be volunteering more often if I want to take recycling in whenever I want....but she does not. We make a small talk and she leaves. I consider waiting until Wednesday when recycling is actually open but I figure, the stuff is already in the car. So I continue the mission although I am a little uneasy. Besides, what are they going to do...throw me in Recycling Jail? As a passing thought I picture an enormous incarceration complex made entirely of corrugated boxes.

I get to the recycling center and it is deserted of course. Maybe they changed the combination, maybe that's why my neighbor said nothing. I try the combo and it works. I am relieved but still a little nervous. I quickly take my full boxes around the bin to throw them in.

I am separating the glass from everything else when I hear a car approaching. Is it security? Is it my neighbor? I prepare to be reprimanded. Someone else from the compound comes around the corner with their recycling. So, I am not the only one. Do I detect a look of guilt on her face? Wait, does she see guilt on my face! She throws her measly bag of recycling in the bin and heads off. I'm thinking that I shouldn't be too far behind her.

Meanwhile I'm throwing glass in the glass bin, and balancing boxes full of stuff up the ladder as I try to get out of there as fast as possible. When I'm done, I breath a sigh of relief. Recycling done and no one is the wiser. OK, except my neighbor who runs it, and another person on the compound, and probably security who patrols the compound. So much for a stealth mission.

Maybe next time I need to go at night dressed in black carrying a radio plays an espionage worthy theme song as I quickly and silently do my good deed for the day. Nah, that sound like to much work. With my luck I would actually get arrested. Perhaps I should just volunteer more often.

Lists

2007-09-16T20:18:00.000-07:00

List of things to do on Saturday:
1. get up early
2. do some yoga
3. replace shower head
4. wash my car
5. wash her truck
6. finish guitar amp shelves
7. make dinner
8. sweep and mop floor
9. attack weeds in front yard
10. play on climbing gym

List of things I actually did on Saturday:
1. got up late
2. ate breakfast
3. drank a soda
4. sat on couch for hours
5. watched 5 different home improvement shows
6. barely did some yoga
7. showered at 4pm
8. snacked
9. listened to new Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals CD yet again
10. did not leave house

Baseball by proxy

2007-09-16T19:42:00.001-07:00

My fiance is a Cubs fan. She watches Cubs games when they are on WGN (which I am told stands for Worlds Greatest Network...I thought it was some private joke like We Give Nuggies) because we actually get that network on Direct TV. When the game is not on WGN, she "watches" it on her computer. Lately though, she's been watching in on TV and on the computer at the same time. I wonder if we'll end up painting our house Cubs colors..nah, I'm just paranoid. Of course, she has a Cubs hat and wears it now and then. She also got me a Cubs hat and sometimes I am strongly encouraged to wear it.

So, for hours on end she is glued to the television and the laptop and all I hear from her is....
"C'mon Alfonso,
c'mon Derek,
c'mon Ryan,
c'mon Mark,
c'mon Aramis..."
I just think to myself...wow, every one's name is c'mon. Then I think of A League of Their Own when Tom Hanks' character yells out, "Way to go whatever-your-name-is." It cracks me up because I would picture myself at a Cubs game, not knowing player's names and yelling that out. Then getting weird looks from the fans around us until it is explained that I am a fan by proxy.

We make stadium brats and sometimes have a beer while her Cubbies are playing. I must admit that a lot of it has rubbed off on me. I know a Soriano from a Theroit. I know what the announcers are talking about when they speak of the ivy. I know that Derek Lee really reminded me of Ben Harper when I first started watching. Hey, what's Ben Harper doing on a baseball team? Shouldn't he be touring? I know she'll need Maalox when they are losing and I know it's going to be a really good day when they win. But most of all I know she enjoys it and it reminds her of home so I pull out the rally caps when we need to and we try to catch a game in person whenever we can.

Cub's Win!

clipping

2007-09-10T20:46:00.000-07:00

there is that quiet space between clips
when my inner child is smiling
and i am only worryed about
having a smooth and relaxed breath

it is reminiscent of yoga
finding your center
finding your balance
except you are on a tiny foothold
2 stories high

there is the next clip
find a positive stance
try to stay relaxed
pull on the rope to give you slack
reach and clip

the clips make such a satisfying sound
it is the sound that you have accomplished another goal
have made it to another milestone
you begin to relax again
start looking ahead again
breath again

find your breath
find your balance
on a foothold 2 1/2 stories high
look with soft eyes
and child's curious mind
what are my options?
what moves feel right?

always move ahead
be patient and insistent
be calm and decisive
let the moves come to you
and take you to the next clip

find your stance
relax
pull rope
reach and clip

breadcrumbs . . . . . ... .

2007-09-10T20:29:00.000-07:00

sometimes life is not
what i expected it to be
especially when the task at hand
seemed so much smaller from a distance

i fall short sometimes
or fail to rise to the challenge
but still get up everyday to try
that's got to be worth something
that's got to be worth something
but i'm not really sure what

can i not see the forest for the trees?
or am i too busy looking
for the breadcrumbs
that are supposed to lead me out?

Paper Does Assist

2007-09-10T19:28:00.000-07:00

Despite all the claims of a better life, my PDA did not organize my life at all. In fact it made it more complicated.

First I had to learn how to write all over again. Who knew graffiti could be so hard? Why can't it just recognize handwriting from a normal human being? Why does the user have to relearn how to write? If this thing was supposed to assist me, wouldn't it have to learn how to decipher my handwriting?

Then I kept losing the damn stylus. Somewhere in the car is the final resting place of one. I've lost another in my back pack somewhere. I, of course, bought more...only to lose them again. I even tried to bend them so they would stay in my PDA longer with dismal success. I wonder how many of them the average person goes through. I wonder how many times around the earth they would reach if put end to end. I wonder what structure could be built if everyone found their missing stylus'. The Hoover Dam? A skyscraper? Perhaps a coliseum sponsored by the creators of PDAs.

Then, my PDA decided it had had enough of me. It waged war upon me with blow after blow. First, it wouldn't sync. So, I reloaded the software and purchased a new cable. Fearing that I would lose all of the information I so painstakingly got onto my PDA, I purchased a memory stick. I never got the memory stick to work despite many an encounter with the manual and much beeping and blinking lights. I slowly began to realize that it just didn't like me. And the last straw, the last insult that divided me from my assistant was an ever decreasing battery life. A blank stare would face me every time I tried to turn it on. It really isn't all that helpful when you have to keep it plugged in to use it. Still unwilling to accept total defeat, I carried around a notepad and stuck notes to my PDA telling myself that I would eventually put my notes into it...whenever I got it to work again. This form of denial lasted longer than I am willing to admit. I never got it to work. It is enjoying a renewed life as a papeweight however.

So now I've gone happily back to sticky notes everywhere...in my pockets, lists stuck to dollarbills, stick notes with witty lines and jokes never finished folded up on my desk at home, sticky notes with people I need to call all over my desk at work, different colors that don't mean different things, sticky notes sponsered by drug companies, sticky notes from Hawaii, sticky notes with numbers, sums of numbers, equations that I don't even recall. It's sticky note heaven and I think it assists me just fine.

The surface of the sun

2007-09-10T19:12:00.000-07:00

Top Ten hints that you are somewhere that is damn hot:

10. You can only buy chocolate you will immediately eat, otherwise it will melt in the package
9. If you forget to put the sunshade up in your car, you need gloves to avoid steering wheel burn
8. You need another layer to cope with the frigid temperatures inside air conditioned buildings
7. It's midnight and you're still sweating
6. You worry that the pavement will melt the soles of your shoes
5. You dreams all have something in common...ice cream, iced tea, gelato, iced water, coke floats, ice with side order of ice, ice sandwiches, ice casseroles, iced coffee, shaved ice.....
4. You debate putting your clothes in the freezer before wearing them outside
3. You can't be outside for more than 15 minutes before you worry about your health
2. You can make sun tea with the water bottles you forgot in your car
1. You have to let the tap water run....in order to get COLD water

(inspired by a recent trip to Phoenix)

cactus in bloom

2007-06-09T17:57:00.001-07:00

Although our group arrives
in matching 4Runners,
we come from far and wide.

A pharmacy student originally from Scotland,

a dentist from Colorado,
a physical therapist from Washington DC,

another four of us from here in Arizona,

and we follow our fearless leader from Chicago

to hike to the ruins known as Three Turkeys.

...

We make our way down the canyon,

over loose red rocks and a steep trail,

blue sky in contrast to the canyon walls,

gnats in full force,

cactus in bloom.

It is a trail 2 of us know well,

but like those new to it,

we still get lost in it's seclusion

and it's beauty.

She's the hiker,

I'm the climber.

She leads us down

and up the canyon,

making sure everyone is comfortable,

picking up trash along the way.

I get lost in taking pictures,

and staring at the canyon walls

looking for viable handholds,

a place to put my feet,

maybe I should have brought my climbing shoes...

I wonder how far I could make it up here...

In the end we must return

to the impromptu Toyota dealership parking lot,

pack back into our rides

and bid the canyon farewell,

until next time.

A little daydream

2007-06-08T20:37:00.000-07:00

I was chugging along in the work week just fine until I hit the wall. Suddenly, everything seemed like a struggle. I don't want to be here. I want to be biking. I don't want responsibility, I want to be foolish and free. I don't want to answer questions anymore, don't want to have to plan anything, talk to anyone on behalf of the complaints of someone else. I don't feel like giving my advice, don't feel like dealing with the day. I guess that's what it all comes down to, I don't want to deal with anything at all today.

Amidst my silent rebellion, I begin to dream of those times I've been mountain biking in Colorado, the 26 miles of bliss where you don't think of anything else but the trail in front of you. After all, it is a trail has been known to break bikes and collarbones. Your concentration is focused on keeping you unharmed as you hurl yourself down the singletrack on a bicycle. Perhaps a song runs through your mind on an endless loop.

"Well, she was an american girl, raised on promises. She couldn't help thinking that there was a little more to life, somewhere else. After all it was a great big world, with lots of places to run to..." - American Girl, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers

Perhaps you only listen to the hum of your bike and the protest of your legs as you hit yet another hill. Perhaps you listen to the birds or the sound of the creek echoing in the pine covered valley that you are biking out of. You take in a deep breath of the fresh air, look behind you for members of the biking posse you came with, get back in the saddle and head down the trail. This is the life.

That is exactly the state of mind I want to be in right now. In that state I am farthest from deciding what to make for dinner, what to do to help get the house ready for inspection, remembering to take out the garbage, ordering narcotics for work, signing off on time sheets, working out pharmacy schedules, worrying about social engagements, looking at when I can do my narcotic audits, when to do my monthly drug inspections, when to make chemotherapy for another 2 weeks, trying to figure out who will backup the inpatient pharmacist now that our staffing is so bad, what to do about upcoming technician evaluations, when to do a pharmacy technician orientation, worrying about potential changes in pharmacy staff, when I should to my adverse drug reaction reviews, how to fit in various online trainings I'm supposed to do, what to do about pharmacy equipment that needs to be sent back, how to help dispense medications between listening to complaints of patients, coworkers, and other hospital staff.....the list goes on and on.... The weight of responsibility gets added in such small increments that it's hard to notice sometimes. But once in awhile, when you stop and take stock, you realize how heavy it really is.

So today I don't want to deal, but what choice do I have? Not much, so life goes on. I can, however, escape for a short time with a little daydream and a promise to myself to go for a bike ride later today.

So I went for a ride this evening.

In the words of a very exuberant pharmacist we used to have, "It was awesome".

However, I still didn't feel like making dinner so we went out.

Workin' on old and cranky

2007-06-07T21:32:00.000-07:00

Our ultimate goal is to be old and cranky. I think we are on our way:

Damn dogs- Some of our neighbors have dogs that bark at some pretty awful times..2-3 am, 6:30am. Unfortunately, we are light sleepers. We say to each other, "Damn dogs!" Who would let their dogs do that? How can it not bother the owners when they live in the house from which this noise emanates? How have they become immune to the noise and where can I get some of that immunity?

Crying kids- usually when we are somewhere like a restaurant or department store and we see or hear kids crying or throwing tempter tantrums, we say to each other, "Yup, time for us to leave." My mother says it's different when they are your own. We say, somebody has to be the adult in the relationship so the kid doesn't run amok. Maybe it's us but we like to play with kids but also enjoy giving the kids back to their parents when they start getting upset.

Crickets - the crickets are back and I think they have it out for me because I used to hunt them (see one of my earliest blog entries). The other day I was walking in the house when I realized that a cricket somehow made in onto my jeans. I calmly turned around and let it off outside. I suspect the cricket's plan was to infiltrate our house, set up shop, and drive me crazy with their incessant night time banter. I have noticed an increase in cricket sounds at night but it has not been enough to make me hunt them down in the middle of the night with a spray can of insect killer. Still, it's too early in the season to tell.

Late nights - last weekend we went to a concert and were exhausted by the time the main act came on at midnight. Although somewhat embarrassed, we ended up leaving a little early because it was well past our bedtime of 10pm. At what point do you stop being able to go to a concert and be up until 3am? Sadly, that point may have occurred this past weekend. I just keep telling myself that it was because the sound was not very good, or that the band members have changed so much that it was not the same, or that I had seen them 3 times before so it was not that big of a deal. Denial? Self delusion? I have not completely decided.

Eating early - you know those senior citizen specials in restaurants where they start dinner at 4:30pm? Well, we are usually there. It seems like everywhere we go on weekends, we end up waiting for the place to open up for dinner. Somehow we end up on an early eating schedule which is not fun when your favorite restaurants are not open. So, we wait to eat, which makes us cranky. Me with an empty stomach is not a pretty sight.

Early mornings and early bedtimes - I've started to become an early person. Unless I've stayed up really late the night before (ll pm), I can't sleep past 6 am anymore without getting a headache or just being cranky. This, of course, makes me start to get sleepy at about 9:30-10pm. Gone are those days of staying up until 2am and sleeping in until 10am. I remember that my grandfather used to get up at 4am and start making oud noises in the kitchen. I sometimes wonder if I'll be like that.

So put a lid on those dogs, quiet those crickets, pass those children back to their parents, and head off to bed early because it will be another early morning for old and cranky.

Speaking of, it's past my bedtime...

Time to go

2007-06-02T07:06:00.000-07:00

Woohoo! I survived being the acting supervisor for the past 2 weeks. The pharmacy is still standing so I must have done an OK job even though we had such emergencies as: 6 page forms to fill out before our computer access was shut down, a 3 hour computer melt down where we were thrown back in the stone ages of typing out prescriptions on 4 typewriters (2 borrowed from other departments), various staff scheduling issues, and beginning the orientation process of the new pharmacy technician that started this past week.

Now we have a 4 day weekend and we're headed to Flagstaff to see this blues-rock band that I love to support called Indigenous. It promises to be a good show. I remember the first time I saw them when the lead singer launched into "Red House" by Jimi Hendrix. I was and am still blown away.

www.indigenousmusic.net

We are also going to get some new shoes for H's SUV and an oil change for it. Of course there is also the usual shopping and eating that we go to Flag for.

It would seem like we are moving to Flag. Our list of stuff to take for the weekend seems to get longer and longer:

Clothes and toiletries (jacket in case in rains, shorts in case it's hot, jeans in case it's not, etc)
Cooler bags to bring back perishables from the grocery store/Sam's Club
Memory Foam mattress - the hole-in-the-wall hotels don't have very good beds.
Pillows
Laptop in a travel case
Climbing rope - climbing...sweet!
Climbing gear (harness, chalk bag, shoes, ATC devices etc)
Snacks for the drive
Water for the drive
Shopping lists

A few times we've taken the MINI but find that we fill it up pretty well when we leave from here and it is absolutely stuffed when we return. So, we take the SUV more often.

Well, time to pack. Time to go.

And now a word from our sponser:

2007-05-23T18:45:00.000-07:00

Feeling a little sluggish? Feeling like you could be smarter? Tired of being called Pea Brain?

From the makers of Tough Nuggies candy bar comes a new cereal for you called Brainblast!

Brainblast! has special secret scientifically engineered ingredients which promote the growth of brain cells when eaten regularly.

Yes, it's true...scientists have discovered brain food and we have made into a delicious and nutritious cereal.

Now you can eat Brainblast! when you need it for that important business meeting or final exam. Temporal restrictions may exist, see side effects below.

When you need more brains, eat Brainblast! It's a no brainer.

And now for the fine print:
While brain blast has been shown to promote the growth of brain cells, the use of those new brain cells is not guaranteed. Brainblast! has not shown to increase "common sense". Full effect of Brainblast! has been shown to take 6-8 months with daily use. Take it as directed on box. Do not take more than directed due to side effects. Do not take with calcium products. Side effects include: nausea, vomiting, headaches, intolerable illusions of grandeur, swelled head syndrome (SHS) also known as cranium gargantuan, decreased use of common sense, use of obscure and indecipherable language, loss of fashion sense, loss of taste, loss of financial security, loss of friends, and accumulation of enemies. Caution this product may require that you acquire larger eyeglasses, hats, and other headgear.

Act now and you can get a box for the special introductory price of $200. For a limited time only, buy one box and get the next box at regular price.

Brainblast! is food for your brain. Go ahead, feed it!

Success!!

2007-05-19T16:48:00.000-07:00

Vacation Day 5: The end

Sadly, my vacation had to come to an end. This is the official last day of my vacation so I should make the most of it right? Well, no. It has taken me 4 days but I've finally run out of things that I want to do. There are of course things that I need to do but don't want to do them.

When I was younger, when I got to this stage, I would start moping around the house.
"What's with the long face?" my mother would ask.
"I'm bored", I would whine. I'm sure I got on my mother's nerves quite a bit.
"Well, you can help me clean." I think my mom cleaned when she was bored....and most other times.
Silence from me. Obviously I did not want to clean.
"Well, then you need to find yourself something to do."

Boredom has reared it's ugly head. Surprisingly, it did take a little time but it is here.

So what do I do? Pace the house a bit. Try to read. Watch mindless television until my mind demands that I stop. Play a little guitar (my backpacker) and perhaps a full sized one for awhile.

After awhile, I realized that I had done it. I had originally taken these days off to give myself a break, to not have to go anywhere or do anything, to take myself out of the multitasking and goal orientated state of mind that comes from work. In sort, to allow myself to get bored.

Success!! Well, now that it's here, I don't like it. I shall immediately make goals and tasks for tomorrow. I still have the weekend...hmmm....maybe I'll drive 3 hours roundtrip to see a movie.....

A mojito sounds good

2007-05-18T09:01:00.000-07:00

Vacation day 4: Work finds me

My only goal is to have a potluck today with my peers to discuss issues at work. Amazingly, 90% of our pharmacists came (including contracts). We ate, we talked about work (and other things) and I think it's the beginning of something good in our department.

H jokes that even when I'm trying to get away from work, it finds me.

Potlucks are awesome though. We had chicken stir fry, seafood gumbo, an asian salad, mojitos, wine, soda, brownies, lemon pie, stuffed peppers, topped off with some great conversations.

That's one of the cool things about our staff. Getting together is always fun, even if it is for work.

Ride,baby ride

2007-05-18T08:06:00.002-07:00

Vacation Day 3: I only had one goal, to ride.

7:15am Left home to got to do a mountain bike ride in Gallup, NM despite the fact that the weather predicted a 60% chance of rain in the afternoon. I had always wanted to check out the High Desert Trail system which is basically a 22 mile singletrack loop. I took apart my bike and carefully placed it into the Mini and headed down the road.

8:45am Arrive at the trailhead and perform the preparation ritual. Bike assembly, bike clothes on, sunscreen, water check, Cliff bar(s) check, tire pressure check, shoes, gloves, helmet, sunglasses, review of trail map, and lastly car key check before locking the car. Not a cloud in the sky so I take to the trail.

9am-12pm: Ride, baby ride.

Miles 1-2: Minor adjustments give way to a feeling of euphoria. This is actually very nice singletrack to ride. The smell of the trees, the sound of the bike on the trail, the nice temperature, it all reminds me of why I love off road biking. I could not believe this was in Gallup.

Miles 3-4 Still a little nervous about being on a new trail. I keep checking the mile markers as they go by. Strangely I'm the only biker out here on a Wednesday morning. Either everyone else is at work or I'm the only one stupid enough to be out here with the weather forecast as it is.

Miles 4-6 Now I'm really getting into it. The trail is well maintained. The intersections of the trails are well marked, the cairns used are impressively large, and the sculptures that are intermittently on the trail are interesting.

Miles 6-9 I'm still enjoying myself but am trying to decided how much to ride today. The trail can be 22 miles long but you can loop back at many points. I haven't been biking lately so I should probably take it easy....well, I'll decide later.

Miles 9-11 Time for a break. I should have brought a camera. I have a Cliff bar, enjoy the awesome scenery, and decide that I am having so much fun that I should see the trail to the end.

Miles 11-13 Probably the most technical part of the trail. Great switchbacks on and off the 3rd mesa get my adrenaline running as I realize I'm at the end. I'm actually getting tired so I stretch and rest a bit. I realize that I should have turned back earlier so getting back to the car will not be pretty but I am content with my choices.

Miles 13-15 Now I know I am tired. I do not even attempt the steeper climbs. I just walk. I do enjoy the downhills but realize that my legs tire from that as well. I may be in trouble. My legs don't feel like they are going to start cramping so that's good. I consider bailing off the trail and heading back to the trailhead via a dirt road but I figured that I've come this far and I still want to see the entire trail system so I push on.

Miles 16-17 My concentration starts waining. Now it's not about the beauty of the ride, it's about keeping myself going. I realize it's been about an hour since my last bar so I eat another. My legs stiffen up as I rest. I still have awhile to go so I don't let myself stay off the bike to long. Momentum is my mantra.

One moment I'm biking along...the next moment I'm eating dirt on the trail. Damn, the trail is hard. I overshot a turn which, unfortunately for me, had very sandy banks that swallowed my tires. I landed on my knee and left some skin on the trail. I am reminded of a friend of mine who said "It's not real mountain biking until you wreck." I wash off my knee with water and get back on the horse.

Miles 17-19 I don't know if it was the adrenaline, the fact that I realized I needed to concentrate, or the fact that the trail started to get a little easier, but I started to enjoy myself again. Maybe I needed a slap in the face to wake me up or perhaps it as delirium.

Miles 19-21 My legs threaten to cramp but my spirits are high as I start to recognize that the end is near. Sweet. I start thinking about where I will be going for lunch and am amazed that I have had this entire 22 mile ride all to myself.

Mile 21-22 I don't have the trail to myself. I get stuck behind a lady who has headphones on (so she can't hear anything) power walking back to the trailhead. There is not way around her and I certainly don't want to scare her so I just coast along for about half a mile, stopping here and there to let her get ahead a bit. An exercise in patience. It appears I still have some, even after about 3 hours in the saddle.

It was an excellent ride on a trail that I would definitely recommend. It was well worth it.

The Mini awaits me at the end with a first aid kit, a cold soda, a banana, and a ride to lunch.

12pm-1pm Lunch in Gallup at a New Mexican place. It was OK.

1pm-3pm Shopping at Home Depot and Safeway. The clouds start rolling in.

3pm-4:30pm Drive back to Chinle through some rain showers.

That was pretty much my day, and what a good day indeed.

Vacation, Day 2

2007-05-16T15:40:00.000-07:00

I spent the early hours of the day fixing the garage door opener. I was amused when I put the whole thing back together and tried it only to discover that it thought the door was open so it kept trying to close the already closed door. After taking the chain off, running it until it thought the door was closed, and putting the chain back on, it worked well.

Next...watch a mediocre movie on DirectTV.

Read a book a little bit.

Made dinner.

Went into work for 30 min to do a narcotic order so the pharmacy doesn't run out of them while I'm gone.

I think the vacation is working (sorta). I've got less goals each morning and spend more time on the couch. Excellent.

Now if I can just stay out of work.

In the bathroom, really?

2007-05-15T20:10:00.000-07:00

I have an outdated cell phone that I hardly use. I have been debating getting something more updated, but then again......

I was shocked and a little dismayed the first time a patient did not come into my counseling room to get her medications because she was on a cell phone. She actually motioned for me to wait for her. Of course, I did not. I had plenty of other patients to see. This occurred a few years ago in Pinon, which is even smaller than Chinle, so I knew then that cell phones had hit the rez.

More recently, I called an elderly patient into the counseling room in Chinle, started into the meds, and was rudely interrupted by her cell phone. This grandma then proceeded to answer the phone and have a 5 minute conversation in Navajo (mistakenly assuming that I did not understand Navajo) while I waited patiently. Perhaps some form of cell phone etiquette needs to be given with the purchase of one.

This past weekend I noticed a sign at Biff's Bagels in Flagstaff that said they had the right to refuse service to anyone waiting in line on a cell phone. Sounds reasonable to me.

The sign at the climbing gym we frequent in Flag is a little bit nicer...the say "no cell phones in the climbing area please." I'm not sure how you can rock climb and be on a cell phone but I guess it has been attempted. Either that or someone has tried belaying and talking on a cell phone. That would be even worse.

Of course, there are those drivers who insist on attempting to drive, talk on the phone, and do all kinds of other things while not noticing that they are cutting people off, driving 10-15 miles under the speed limit, or weaving in and out of their lane. It's no wonder that the Hands-free laws are going in effect in certain cities. I think it will take awhile for that law to get to Chinle. I can already tell that we will need it.

I am also amazed at the individuals who insist on continuing a conversation while they go to the public bathroom. Once in awhile you hear 1/2 of a conversation coming out of a stall. The first time I observed this, I thought it was an anomaly. The second time, I realized that communication technology is going too far. In the bathroom...really? You know, the guy could have had the courtesy of leaving the cell out of the stall, especially since his conversation kept getting interrupted with grunts as he did his business. Perhaps our society needs a law concerning cell phones and toilets.

With all that being said. I think I might just wait for the IPod phone, after all if it has to do with music, then I am interested. Have you seen that thing? A cell phone...an IPod...I think it'll be awesome.

I will keep it out of the bathroom though...trust me.

Relax?

2007-05-15T05:56:00.000-07:00

Vacation day 1: Relax? I can't relax...I got things to do!

7:30-10am: I decided that I can't take the weeds growing in the front yard anymore...plus it's nice and cool so I better get outside. I pull weeds, cut shrubs, rake, and bag them only to realize that I'm only about a quarter of the way done. Then it starts to get hot so I give up.

10am-12pm: My garage door opener went kaput about a month ago and have parts to replace. I start looking at the instructions out of curiosity. This leads me to working on the opener and eventually replacing the parts. Now I have to figure out what made it break in the first place and not repeat it. My garage starts to swelter so I surrender to the house.

12pm-1pm: On the way I remember that the front gate has become a pain. I discover that it has a few screws loose (don't we all) so I tinker with it until it works like a charm.

1pm: Time to eat and add to the pile of dishes.

2pm-3pm: The swamp coolers are not operational yet so the temperature is slowly rising in the house. I decide to shower to cool off.

3pm-4pm: Start thinking about dinner. Wash the dishes. Decide on tofu for dinner. Set some rice.

4pm-5pm: Open up all the doors and windows to let some cooler air in. Decide to sit down with a book and read. Finally, I start to relax.

5pm-6pm: Alternate between making dinner and reading. Apparently, I have not turned off the multitasking mode quite yet.

6pm-7pm: Finish cooking dinner. Get invited to eat out with the boss and the new temporary pharmacists that we have. H comes back so we decide that the dinner I cooked with become lunch tomorrow. We head out to meet the new faces we will have at work.

7pm-9:30pm: Dinner and conversation.

9:30pm-10:30pm: Check emails. Play with the new laptop. Time for bed.

I always find that it takes me a few days to stop being task oriented. Multitasking is a way of life at work and it bleeds into the first few days of my vacations. So I end up having to accomplish certain goals, even when I am not at work. Thankfully this doesn't last more than a few days so I should be lounging about my Friday.

It's like magic!

2007-05-12T14:51:00.000-07:00

OK, so I admit it. I am not the most techno savvy person around. My sister told me to "get with the program" when she discovered that I had a Bluetooth capable car but do not have a Bluetooth capable phone. Apparently, when you buy a MINI you also may need to upgrade your cell phone.

Don't get me wrong...it's not that I don't like technology, it's just that it can be a little invasive sometimes. Do I really want to be getting phone calls in the bathroom? Am I really on the phone THAT much? I know some people are...it's just not me.

With that being said, I am currently working on my blog via a wireless connection at a hotel in Flagstaff. At the risk of sounding 12...like, it's sooo coool.

H got a laptop with a wireless card and I bought a router so we could have wireless Internet at home. It actually took more time to set up the wireless router than it did to set up the laptop itself. So we have been running around the house with the laptop and getting online. The funny thing is that we only check a few things when we are online such as email, work email (yeah, we shouldn't be), a few blogs, our finances, and the weather. So, after about 10-15 minutes, we're done.

Still, now we can do those 10 minutes online in every room of the house, outside in the back yard, and even when we travel! Of course, this is nothing new to most of you, especially those that travel for business, but it certainly is a revelation to me.

Technology is an amazing thing.

Hmmmm, do I need to get a new phone now?

The fine line between hum and bonk

2007-02-27T20:17:00.000-08:00

I've decided that I miss it.
Creating your own breeze,
the crunch of the dirt trail,
the hum of the bike,
not just the tires, but the entire bike
as you settle into a comfortable cadence.
The scenery going by quickly
but slow enough to enjoy.

My bikes and I have had a falling out
but we may be on the mend.
While they are the nemesis of my fiance,
(she can tell you stories of being "impaled" by one)
they've always been a friend of mine
until
I actually trained for a ride.

I did the Iron Horse one year...
a ride from Durango to Silverton in Colorado
a 3000 ft ascent and descent
from one mountain town to another.
It was 5 hours of blissful scenery
and painful agony,
the high of achievement
tempered by the daze of the bonk.
At one point my legs started to cramp
so I walked...
my legs still were cramping
so I rested and ate,
then I tried to ride again
only to end up walking (& cursing).
This was "the wall" and I did not scale it gracefully.
It was the first time I bit off something
and genuinely thought I would not finish,
but I did,
barely.

Some time after it was over,
perhaps still suffering
from the thin air on my brain,
I did a foolish thing,
I vowed that I would be back
and I would be prepared
so I started to train for next year's ride.

Then the joy started to become work,
as I put in the hours in the saddle,
I noticed the hum of the bike less and less.
Despite myself, my expectations grew
with the weeks and weeks of training.

The Iron Horse the second time was easier
and harder.
Mentally I was stronger for having done the course before,
physically I was in better shape,
but I still was not prepared for what happened.
It snowed.
Hauling ass down a mountain on 2 thin road bike tires,
with snow obscuring your path and your view
is not fun.
After all that work, all that training,
my time was actually worse.
The ride became all about the time,
somewhere along that 47 mile ride,
I had crossed a line,
I wasn't having fun on my bike anymore.

So my bikes have become dust collectors
with the occasional ride
but lately I've begun to feel that urge again
to get out on the trail,
feel the miles and bumps go by,
leaving my worries behind
as I search for a certain stillness inside
somehow reached by the rhythm of the motion,
the pedals going around,
the wheels dancing on the ground.
This is the joy that I felt from a tricycle at 3 years old,
this is the joy from learning to ride a bicycle,
this is the freedom of wheels in middle school,
this is the smile I get from Big Wheels
from Green Machines,
from Huffys,
from banana seats,
plywood ramps,
Nishiki bikes,
Specialized bikes,
Lemand bikes,
bikes with no shocks,
bikes with one shock,
bikes with two,
bikes on cars headed to Moab,
bikes on mountain trails,
bikes on mountain roads,
bikes on Albuquerque trails,
bikes in a cactus slalom,
bikes on slick rock,
bikes in Utah's Canyonlands,
bikes deep in Chinle sand,
bikes on Hawaiian lava trails,
bikes on MINIs,
bikes on Jeeps,
bikes on 4Runners,
bikes riding across Iowa (RAGBRAI),
bikes being chased by rez dogs,
bikes,
bikes,
bikes,
and yes more bikes.

So now I'm ready again,
I need to dig up my LiveStrong bracelet,
clean off my old friends,
inspect gears,
tighten spokes,
grease chains,
tune deraillers,
check shocks,
check brake tension...
all so we can find new memories
all so I can hear that
hummmmmmmmm

again.

workin' man blues

2007-02-27T06:26:00.000-08:00

I wake up too damn early
got this pain in my head
I quit my job every morning
before I get out of bed
I got these workin' blues
these workin' man blues
don't know how to get out
of these workin' man blues

The bills keep on comin'
I guess that's how it's done
I can't keep them paid
and I'm not the only one
with these workin' blues
these workin' man blues
tell me how to get out
of these workin' man blues

When I'm on the job
I wish I was at home
when I'm at home
my job won't leave me alone
I got these workin' blues
these workin' man blues
don't know how to get out
of these workin' man blues

I come home late at night
the sun's already gone down
got to get myself some sleep
because tomorrow's another round
of these workin' blues
these workin' man blues
tell me how to get out
of these workin' man blues

8 minutes

2007-02-22T21:44:00.000-08:00

My commute, if you want to call it that, is an 8 minute walk. On my way to work I pass a few chain link fenced yards. One in particular has a dog that runs back and forth ALL the time. This dog has way too much energy. How much? It's got so much energy that it's begun to wear a path into the earth along the fence because of it's constant movement.

I end up walking by this yard 4 times a day (to work, back for lunch, to work again, back from work) day after day. After awhile, I began to wonder what the dog was running for. It doesn't seem to be chasing anything in particular. It certainly was not chasing me or any other people walking by. It chases cars only once in awhile. Sometimes it tries to get the attention of the neighboring dogs but other times it will be running back and forth even when the other dogs are not even out. Is it mad? Is it training for a marathon? Has it had too much caffiene? I couldn't figure it out. Eventually I decided that, although I could not discern a reason for it's behavior, it probably made perfect sense to the dog. I left it at that.

The next day, as I made my way past the yard for a forth time, another thought occured to me: maybe I'm the one on a seemingly aimless path back and forth, maybe it's the dog that wonders why I keep walking the same old path. If that were the case, at least the dogs boundaries are physical, something he can see. Then my mind wondered off into abstract thought....what are my boundaries? Can I see them? Have I tried to overcome them or do I just turn around and run the other way?

It was a rather interesting 8 minutes.

This ain't your grandmother's phamizzle

2007-02-22T20:54:00.000-08:00

One of our contract pharmacist is a cage fighter. No, really, he's a fighter...he lifts weights, he trains, he signs himself up for matches....he's a cage fighter. He also speaks in strange tongues sometimes...you know, like that show "Doggy Fizzle Televizzle". Up to this point I never would have thought I would be using pharmacist and cage fighter in the same sentence.

The IPods are coming, the IPods are coming! One of our technicians has an IPod. That in itself is not that big a deal but once in while I will be going about my business and realize that I'm listening to Judas Priest..."I'M YOUR TURBO LOVER... TELL ME THERE'S NO OTHER" It's kind of a surreal experience to be dispensing drugs to the sounds of 80's metal. In my mind I keep picturing the huge motorcycle, black leather jacket and chaps with an array of silver spikes, a fog machine going full blast and Judas Priest rocking on. Of course, there are other notable melody makers that have tickled our ears and our brains in the pharmacy lately: Micheal Jackson, Mudhoney, an instrumental collection of theme songs to Arnold Schwarzenegger's movies, The Scorpions, Jimi Hendrix, James Brown, Elvis Presley, A Tribute to Stevie Ray Vaughan, Motley Crue, and every now and then it's interrupted by something really Popish like Christina Agullera (sp?) . IPods are popping up everywhere in the pharmacy and I love music so I find the variety of tunes very amusing.

We finally got a new Chief Pharmacist and he had only been here a week and a half before the entire hospital got an accreditation survey. Basically, it's like being audited. The hospital is literally and figuratively putting out the fancy welcome mats for the surveyors. Doctors whom we've never seen in a shirt and tie are turning up in suits. The pharmacy, as well as the entire hospital, has been a little subdued because everyone is a little nervous. The funny thing is that our new boss is really laid back so he has to reel it in sometimes. In fact, he's so informal that he calls me "bro". It's a little strange being called that at work. Usually the only time anyone calls me bro is when they want something from me, as in"hey bro, can you spare a dollar?" It's all pretty funny but we've all learned very quickly that he's a good guy.

Last week February Madness hit the pharmacy. One of our techs has this tiny boom box that sits at the only pharmacy window because it gets the best radio reception there. The boom box is a mere 7 inches long and 2-3 inches tall but it does it's job of broadcasting the Navajo area boys and girls basketball games. Apparently, a few of the high school teams around here are very good and are in state tournaments. While I really enjoyed the sight of this tiny "boom box" next to the very large picture window in the pharmacy, what I found even more amusing was the play-by-play that was being announced in Navajo. I kept thinking...only on the rez.

Yup, only in Chinle would these things happen....

Fashizzle bro, fashizzle.

The 437 blues.

2007-02-12T16:37:00.000-08:00

It's 4:37 am. I go to the bathroom and try to go back to sleep. I can't actually see the ceiling in the darkness but I can imagine what it looks like. I think about work. I try not to. I think about work anyway. I don't know how long I'm up because I resist the urge to look at my watch every 10 minutes.

The next thing I know, it's 5:53 am. Time to get up. I quit work before I even get out of bed. It's a sluggish morning and my blood feels like it's five times thicker than it should be. The one awake synapse in my brain frequently misfires. I am suddenly reminded of those old Model T Fords where you have to wind up the engine to get it started. I keep cranking until my feet get off the bed and on the floor. In my stupor I hit the shower.

I am in the midst of the morning blues. I don't want to go to work but I can't sleep anymore. I should be grateful that I am one of the few people whose commute is an eight minute walk but I still drag. So, I access my owners manual and look up 'Auto Pilot' in the Index.

Auto Pilot............................................................................page 437

I'm certainly going to utilize this feature today.

I don't really wake up until about 11-11:30. Then I start asking myself questions:
Am I in the right department? Check.
Am I working the right shift? Check.
Am I wearing the uniform correctly (nothing untucked, crooked, missing, inside-out, etc)? Check, check, check, check.
Did I brush my teeth? Check.
Did I brush my hair (preferably not with my toothbrush)? Check.
Did I have breakfast? Check.
Did I bring a cola? Check and double check.
Well then, I guess I should get on with my day....I crack open the soda and drink in the familiar. Things start coming back to me. Oh yeah, this is where I was at last week....

Thank goodness for the complex multitasking abilities of the mind. If I had to think about every little thing this morning, I don't think I would have made it, at least not without significant embarrassment.

When it's time to break for lunch, I'm standing in the parking lot with more questions. Now, did I walk or drive? If I drove, where did I park?

The Adventures of Wonder Woman (as told by The Slacker)

2007-02-11T09:32:00.000-08:00

She is able to do 2 jobs simultaneously!

1-She runs our department:
Orders stuff for us when purchasing assistant is not there.
Helps people at the window when our greeter is out.
Takes care of staffing situations when people call in sick.
Runs meetings consisting of physicians and other providers.
Looks after our budget.
Puts in requests for equipment.
Works on getting our dept ready for national recertification.
Handles all problems for our department.
Is on numerous committees and goes to endless meetings.
Handles hiring of contract and permanent employees.
Orients temp and perm employees when they come on the job.
Plus all the other details that happen behind the scenes that we don't know about.

2-She still is able to do her old job:
Run the inpatient pharmacy.
Handles all problems for the inpatient pharmacy.
Run and see patients in the Anti coagulation Pharmacy run clinic (of which she is currently the only certified provider).
Take care of all aspects of the year long Pharmacy Residency program.
Mentors pharmacy students through out the year that stay for 1-2 months.
Takes on training of other pharmacy staff members at work and on her own time.

AND to top it all off:
She doesn't let people see her sweat.
She seems to handle everything with ease.
She puts in 60 hour weeks on her own.
She is one of the sweetest people you would ever meet.
She is so even tempered, hard working, and proficient, that you wonder where she gets her super power from.

Compared to her I always feel like The Slacker. I know I would have gone crazy a long time ago if I was in her very large shoes.

At last things will change though...The Boss has arrived (not Bruce Springsteen)! We now have a new Pharmacy Director which will certainly (but not immediately) take off a lot of the pressure from our hero.

It is definitely a good thing. Here's to you Wonder Woman...I don't know what we would have done without you.

Still damp after all these years

2007-02-07T21:20:00.000-08:00

"It's raining down in Texas. All of the telephone lines are down..." - Texas Flood. Stevie Ray Vaughan.

We went to visit the old boss (not Springsteen) in Tucson only to find that it was damn cold there....but that is another story. Today's story is about what happened when we came back home.

From Tucson we made our way slowly back to Chinle over a couple days via Phoenix and Flagstaff. We had been traveling in the car and living out of a suitcase for a good 6 days when we finally hit Chinle on a Thursday afternoon and were dying to just stop moving and relax.

From the moment we opened the door and a wave of humidity hit us, we knew something was wrong. In utter disbelief, I saw that half of the house was under an inch of water. How could this happen? Water in the hallway, water leading up to the carpets in our bedrooms, water in the bathroom, water, water everywhere. Our rugs were floating in the hallway and bathroom. It was incomprehensible.

As I walked around in my stupor, H tracked down the source of the water. It was coming from the back of the washing machine. We turned of the faucet to the washer and started the clean up of the our own "Great Chinle Flood."

I guess it would be more accurate to say that H started the great clean-up as I was still a little dazed and confused. It may have been the days of traveling, the hours of driving that we had just done, the shock of stepping into water inside your home, or the combination of all of these that left me a little dazed and confused. Slowly it dawned on me what must have happened.

Chinle has brown water so we, like many residents here, filter the water that goes to our washing machine. One of the water filters had frozen, cracked, and let water loose into half the house. Why had it frozen and cracked? It must have been from a combination of cold overnight temperatures and my foolish decision to leave the heater off when we went to Tucson.

Alas, it could have been much worse. The only real casualties were some odds and ends that were boxed up in storage. While H worked on getting the floors dry, I ended up borrowing a monstrous wet/dry vacuum cleaner from the hospital which sucked gallons and gallons of water from the living room and 2 bedroom carpets. We would turn up the fans, open the doors, and open the windows daily in an effort to dry things out faster. We even used towels on the carpets to soak up even more water. It became this weird ritual of laying towels about, stepping on them to absorb the water, and wringing them out in the bathtub...repeat, repeat, repeat.

It's been almost 3 weeks now since the flood and things are slowly returning to normal. The humidity is still there but marginal, the smell of wet carpet doesn't greet you at the door, the furniture has returned it's usual places, and the enormous vacuum has left our home and returned to it's own.

I've never been happier to have dry carpets. For awhile there I thought they would be damp forever.

Surf Paradise

2006-12-12T07:56:00.000-08:00

This is where I'd rather be.

About 6 months ago, 2 dear friends of ours got married in Brasil. H&I had the honor of going to the wedding. I took photos.

I look back on these now and realize how idealic it was, how the weather was so nice on the day of the wedding, how amazing and surreal it all was.

The little cottages that we stayed in for a few days made relaxation inevitable.

Here's to:
having friends with international connections,

the hammacks,

the futebol,

the language I didn't understand,

the menus I couldn't read,

the many times I was asked if I spoke portugese,

learning how to say thank you,

learning how to order coka with no ice,

being witness to old reunions,

new family ties,

new friendships,

and most of all,

having the trip of a lifetime.

Saving Grace

2006-12-11T17:33:00.000-08:00

"I'm passing sleeping cities
Fading by degrees
Not believing all I see to be so"

Can it be? I stop doing whatever I am doing to listen to the voice. Yea, it's gotta be Tom Petty. I turn up the satellite radio to listen to the end of the song:

"And it's hard to say
Who you are these days
But you run on anyway
Don't you baby?"

"You keep running for
Another place
To find that saving grace"

"Don't you baby?"

I stand there listening for a few seconds. Just to make sure the song is over.

I guess I need to buy some music! I begin to plan where I will purchase it from. Calculate the next time I will be in a city where it will be available. I look up on Petty's website when the release date will be. I research the number of songs, the names, see some reviews in Rolling Stone online, learn that Tom Petty went through a divorce and death in the family which may have influenced the tone of the album, this and other random pieces of information find their way into my brain. Other trivia has to scoot over and make room (like the theme songs to Gilligan's Island, CHiP's, Knight Rider, Miami Vice, and the sound effects to The Six Million Dollar Man).

Somewhere amidst the madness I ask myself, "Am I a little crazy here?"

Somewhere from the back of my mind comes the answer...of course I am!

Those obsessions are still alive,
music is still the salve
to the wounds of a long day...

may it always be so.

raining in AZ

2006-08-01T18:37:00.000-07:00

It's raining in Arizona
it reminds some of our coworkers
of Florida, where they are from.

It's raining in Arizona,
lighting flashes,
thunder booming,
scaring dogs,
children,
and adults
although they don't
readily admit it,
flash flood warnings,
water running amuck
in the streets.
A red-brown slurry
runs past our houses
and we are amazed
at how much water
we are seeing.

But this is the desert
could this be?
But this will make things harder
when everything is muddy.

It's raining in Arizona
the clouds heavy and grey
blocking out the blue sky
that we usually see.
Everyone says we need it
because it's been so dry.
Ironically,
the earth has a hard time
accepting this bounty
the clay not absorbing
the rain fast enough
it pours into the streets
down the gullies
between the tires
of foolish drivers
in the rain
sticking their hands
out the windows
to feel how hard it's coming down
as if they cannot believe their eyes
as if we've never seen
moisture before.

Maybe it's true
this, is after all, a desert
but today,
it's raining in Arizona.

plug it in

2006-08-01T18:20:00.000-07:00

Home Depot
the "man mall"
has so many things
to install.
They ask me
if they can help me
(I must appear lost).
Actually,
I am browsing,
window shopping
hand tools
and accessories,
track lighting
and necessities
(or so I choose
to see them).

I am dreaming
of the day
I will have a home
to call my own
so I can buy
such things.
Little weekend projects,
D.I.Y. instructions
that I only glance at
putting things together
to make life a little better.
This is the dream
of the white collar
who wants to make something
with his hands,
the novelty in creation
from plastic wrapped
parts & hardware
to something you can
understand.
Tab A goes into slot B,
don't forget the washers,
hand tighten the screws,
plug it in,
turn it on,
and the world
will be just fine.

1200 miles

2006-08-01T18:14:00.000-07:00

Gallup, NM
eat @ Wendys
a young Navajo girl in a Kilauea cap
reminds me of Hawaii
far away from route 666 (now 491)

I'm looking at the MINI
in between fries
thinking that I'm lucky
to have such toys.
I'm lucky
to be making the memories
I will look back upon
and relish with a smile.

A yes...
that trip to Gallup
that was about the journey
not the destination,
when I passed 1200 miles.
The break-in period done,
now I can let it all hang out,
listen to the whine of engine
as I shift up
1st,
2nd,
3rd,
4th,
5th,
and sometimes 6th
as I always forget
I have that.

Another mile down,
and many more to go.

7-30-06

IBC

2006-06-17T11:25:00.000-07:00

It all started when I was young. I collected Matchbox cars and Hot Wheels. Anyone remember the car carrying case that was shaped like a wheel? I had one of those.

There was the time when we got a new car and I didn't want to leave it. I ended up spending the night in the new car. My mother still likes to tell the story. The car was a green Gremlin hatchback.

Later on, I got into making things with my hands and tried to make a go-cart out of wood. It turns out my 12 year old construction methods did not take into account the weight of the cart and the weight of a driver. I was definately a car kid. I still enjoy cars.

It's all Clint's fault. A few years ago a friend introduced me to the MINI website and I read some things about them. At first, I was not all that impressed. They seemed impractical for where I live. But as time went on, their undeniable charm started to grow on me.

Soon I was planting my face against the glass as I drove by the MINI dealership in Albuquerque. That turned into walks around the cars in the parking lot when the dealership was closed. Then I took a used one for a test drive. All I can say is that it was FUN to drive.

At that point I knew I was interested but couldn't figure out what I wanted. In the next year I test drove a Cooper, a Cooper S (supercharged version), and an automatic before I got things dialed in.

Then my girlfriend bought me a MINI. It was not a toy but a model (see earlier blog entries for that story).

I was obsessed (just ask my girlfriend)and decided to forgo the red corvette for my midlife crisis and get a MINI for my 35th birthday. This after a couple years of being on the fence. Unfortunately, I soon realized that buying one was not so easy. I did some research...decided on the Scottsdale MINI dealership based upon their consumer service. Then had to decide what I wanted...the color was the hardest part. Then I found out that it was a 3 month wait just to order one, then a 2-3 month wait for the car to arrive at the dealership. Still, I wanted one enough to forge ahead.

Sometime in November 2005 : Got in line to order a MINI
Late Feb/Early March 06: Got to order MINI. Got a production number and access to website that would track the MINI as it was made. Thus started my obsessive checking of the website daily.
4-5-06: MINI has been made and is in England. I downloaded MINI desktops for my computer at home and work.
4-14-06: MINI is on route to distribution center in Los Angeles, CA. I downloaded the manual to the car at home for leisurely reading.
5-5-06: MINI is at distribution center. Dealer calls to ask about options I want programmed such as daytime running lights, auto lock feature, how long the lights are to say on when I exit the car, etc.
5-24-06: MINI arrives at dealership in Scottsdale. The dealer wants me to immediately pick it up but I will be in Scottsdale for a pharmacy conference in a week so I put off the 5 hour drive (one way). I get all my paperwork together and try not to forget my checkbook.
6-3-06: I pick up the MINI.

We were in Scottsdale for a pharmacy conference so we left a little early and head for the dealership. It had already been a full day but the excitement and anxiety of purchasing a car got me through the 2 1/2 hours of intro and paperwork. Finally, it was done. The car had 9 miles on it as I left the dealership.

The next day we went to the morning sessions of the conference, did some shopping in Phoenix, and headed back to Chinle. When I got the car home, it had close to 400 miles on it.

All I can say is that it is FUN to drive.

What's the name? I don't know. It may come to me at some point. So far the only things I can think of are MLC (mid life cooper) and IBC (itty bitty chitty).

Been caught climbing

2006-04-29T10:08:00.000-07:00

Is it a bad thing when you enjoy something so much?

We went climbing at Jack's canyon (near Winslow, Az) a few weekends ago.

We didn't do any hardcore stuff (mostly 5.8's and 5.9's) but it was fun nonetheless.

Well...it was fun except for the time I forgot my climbing shoes at a route and had a 30 min walk to get them.

You know you are obsessed with climbing when:

1-Your 2006 weekly engagement calendar is called "Classic Climbs."
2-You have climbing pictures as your wallpaper at your computer at work.
3-You are transfixed anytime you walk into a retailer that has climbing gear.
4-Your girlfriend says, "It seems like the only time I get to spend with you is when we go climbing".
5-You begin to organize climbing trips via e-mail with coworkers.
6-You buy books such as The Rock Warriors Way, How to climb 5.12, Advanced Rock Climbing, and you actually read them....sometimes more than once.
7-You ponder the differences in difficulty between 5.10, 5.10a, 5.10b routes, and remember to factor in if the ratings seem "hard" or "soft" at particular crags.
8-You build your own rock wall in your garage even though it's only 8 feet high.
9-You scope out climbing routes at next weekend's destination (via climbing guides) while you walk to work.
10-You start making blog entries about climbing.

I had stress for breakfast

2006-04-15T07:27:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I had stress for breakfast. It was kinda crunchy.

"There were so many fewer questions when stars were just the holes to heaven" - Jack Johnson

With our director leaving, I am becoming acutely aware of how much harder our jobs as Assistant Directors will become (there are 2 of us). As I learn more and more about my new job as an assistant director, I've begun to peer into the inner workings of the pharmacy. What's behind the stage curtain? A lot of work (reports, audits, evaluations, meetings, etc), and a lot of worry (scheduling issues, early morning phone calls regarding emergency leave, reaccreditation issues, etc). Unfortuantely for me, even with this new insight, I get the feeling that I'm only scratching the surface.

I look back in fond memory at the time when I was merely a pawn.

2006-04-01T19:14:00.001-08:00

Bita Hochee Trading Post

For some reason I've always liked old trading posts

2006-04-01T19:14:00.000-08:00

There's just something about the rusted out school bus

2006-04-01T19:13:00.001-08:00

Drive by shooting 3

2006-04-01T19:13:00.000-08:00

Bus stop. This is where I used to catch the bus to Jr High in Ganado

2006-04-01T19:08:00.000-08:00

Drive by shooting

2006-04-01T19:04:00.000-08:00

You have to watch out for sheep out here

roses

2006-04-01T18:55:00.000-08:00

H's roses '06

(I've been getting back into photography)

So there we were...

2006-03-31T19:20:00.000-08:00

So there we were at the climbing gym in Flag. I’d been going up the wall smoothly, remembering to breath, clipping in with little trouble. Then I got to my objective. My intent was to get to a certain hold and fall…but I couldn’t let go. I looked down at H who was belaying me…”I’m ready”, she says. Apparently, I was not. Time seems slow to a crawl as I looked at my hands on the holds and forced myself to let go.

“Falling!”

I had been reading books on rock climbing and found that they recommend exercises aimed at learning how to fall. The idea is, when you are comfortable with falling, you will be able to push yourself to your limits while climbing. The theory is, it’s not the falling that we’re scared of, it’s the fear of the unknown.

So, H and I roped in, checked each other’s safety equipment, and I gave it a try. H did catch me and I tried falls a little farther the next few times. I must say that it did help but it was damn scary.

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to let go.

Yesterday, our Pharmacy director told us he’s leaving. Not only is he leaving the job, but he’s leaving the Indian Health Service all together. I, along with most of his staff, were completely blind-sided.

So I’m losing a boss. That in itself is not that big of a deal. The big deal is, he’s a friend, a bit of a mentor, and he’s engaged to a friend. So not only am I losing a boss and a coworker, I'm also losing 2 good friends. This sucks.

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to let go.

So what happens now? Our department becomes a head hunter? We run around like a headless chicken? Or do we hold it together with bubblegum and duct tape until a new director arrives?

The theory is, it’s not the falling that we’re scared of, it’s the fear of the unknown.

Then H asks, “Aren’t you happy for them?” No, because it’s all about ME, not them.

Actually, I am happy for them. They are moving on to new and exciting challenges. They are taking on risk and trying something new. In the end, they are the ones facing the unknown. They are the ones letting go.

I wish them everything they're looking for.

“Falling!”

You got a package!

2006-03-28T17:52:00.000-08:00

Now that H is commuting to work, I've become the person to pick up and drop off mail. I've gotten to know Dan, the very nice guy who works the desk at the post office, and he's gotten to know me. I guess that's what happens when you see people picking up mail all the time.

I've also noticed that mail comes in 3 categories:

a-Thank you for spending your money with us, now this is what you owe..... or, if you don't pay, we will break your fingers.... (bills, bills, and more bills)

b-Check out these shiny things and please spend your money with us (of which I am particularly susceptible. Catalogs, ADs, etc)

c-You got a package! Which usually contains a catalog from the company and a bill so it's really a, b, and c.

Sometimes I walk into the post office, Dan sees me, gives me a handshake, and pulls out the package from behind the desk. He's memorized my PO Box # and already found my package. Pretty impressive.

Turning the corner

2006-03-23T05:55:00.000-08:00

I blink my eyes. The blackness starts to fade and I begin to distinguish shapes and sounds. A sheepish grin born of embarrassment comes to me as the faces above begin to come into focus. A couple of paramedics and a fireman stand over me with obvious concern. As I sit up amongst broken dishes and thrown food, I realize, in horror, that my audience is much wider. Patrons watch, kids gawk, my supervisor looks on with a worried stare, and my coworkers, nay, my brothers in arms, stand ready with jokes and grins. I will never live this down.

The only coworker not suppressing a smile is the one who knocked me out. The guilt on his face is as apparent as the marinara sauce on his white shirt. Of course, the guilt is missplaced. I did not follow protocol so it's my own fault. It’s my own fault that I got behind on my orders and was trying, in vain, to catch up. It’s my own fault that I decided to carry one too many entrees and was not paying attention as I turned the corner…

It was just a few days ago that some patrons asked me why we yell “corner!” as we entered and left the kitchen. I wonder if they were here right now…because this would explain it all.

(inspired by a restaurant in Flagstaff)

At the edge of my own existance

2006-01-16T19:10:00.000-08:00

"I done got old" - Buddy Guy from his Sweet Tea album.

I remember at 15 thinking that this is how my life would go:

18- high school graduation
21- offically legal
23- graduate from college
26- find a job, a girl, a place
35- mid life crisis

or

18- graduation
21- officially legal
23- get discovered by NBA
26- be a professional basketball star
35- mid life crisis

or

18-graduation
21-be discovered as an artist
23-graduation from world renown art/photography school
26-be a professional artist
35-mid life crisis

Unfortunately, I was too short for basketball, did not have that much talent anyway, and was unwilling to suffer for my art.

At any rate, 35 was the outer limits that I could imagine myself being. I remind you that I was 15 at the time. Why is this important now you might ask? I turn 35 in a few days and I've had more trouble with this year than any other. The 15 year old inside of me tells me that I'm getting old.

"Never ever gonna get old..." David Bowie from his Reality Album

From this point on, I venture into uncharted territory, a place in time I never even imagined that I would go.

"To boldly go where no one has ever gone before" - Picard from Star Trek Next Generation

After a few days of flipping out, I've now come to this conclusion....I've got everything I need, most of the things I want, have love, health, friendship, family, a way of supporting myself and so much more. My life is good so BRING IT ON!

A black horse is my spirit animal

2006-01-14T06:57:00.000-08:00

"Hello, my name is K. I am a concert-a-holic"

"Hello, K"

I hit bottom a few years ago. I just had to go to that Garbage concert in Albuquerque regardless of the fact that I had to be at work at 8am the next day. So there I was on a Sunday night/Monday morning enjoying the show. It was actually pretty good. The sound wasn't too bad and the venue was very small.

The concert ended around 1:30 am and I was faced with a 3 ½ hour drive home. So, bought a large coke, lined up my Garbage CD's to listen to, and headed down the endless black ribbon of road.

About 4:15 am, just outside of Ganado, I was still a half hour away from home and I hit this stretch of road that is very straight, very rural, and very boring. As far as I know, I was driving along, trying to stay awake when I saw this black horse running along with the vehicle. Was I awake? Was I dreaming? As the adrenaline kicked in, I snapped out of my stuper and realized that I was driving in the middle of the road and drifting to the left.

That horse scared the crap out of me but also scared me enough to make sure I was awake the rest of the way home.

Days later, I decided I was not superhuman, that seeing a musician in concert was not worth putting myself in harms way, and that I would have to take such things into consideration when deciding to go to concerts.

As for the black horse, I never saw it again. Was it real? Was it a dream? I've driven that road countless times since then and have always wondered. What ever it was, it may have saved me from serious harm.

Which one is mine?

2006-01-08T10:50:00.000-08:00

I realize it's my own fault. When my girlfriend was looking at getting a new vehicle, I suggested the 4Runner. I had always liked them and they had recently been revamped.

When we took one for a test drive, she was not convinced (at first). I on the other hand, knew I wanted one. A few months later, I ended up purchasing one. Silver of course.

Meanwhile, H looked around some more and decided on a 4Runner as well. As it turns out, silver was the only color available that she liked.

Now I find myself walking to her car in the parking lot (mostly at work) only to realize that it's not mine. With a slightly embarrassed and sheepish grin I look around to find my car.

It confuses many people, from friends to my family (not to mention myself).

A classic comment was from one of our long time docs who said "Just cute, matching 4Runners."

"Take me to your leader"

2006-01-04T19:50:00.000-08:00

There is the old joke about aliens who come to the planet, observe our actions, and conclude that the gas pump is our leader. That’s how I feel at work when I have to fill the 6 Pyxis machines a couple times a day every day. Pyxis is a drug storage/dispensing machine we use in certain departments in lieu of a full working pharmacy.

This got me thinking about other things that could be misconstrued as “our leader”:

office water cooler (or your office alternative)
office vending machine
office bathroom (as well as the one at home)
Coke!
computers
couch & TV (saaweeeetttt)
climbing gym (I wish)
exercise paraphernalia for fitness fanatics (say that 5 times fast!)
-mountain bike
-road bike
-running shoes (begrudgingly)
-hiking shoes, etc
drugs, drugs, and yes more drugs
Cherry Garcia (speaking of drugs)
bed (how many hours do we spend there a day? Not enough)
food (now that actually might be true)
IPods and other listening devices
CDs, cassettes, 8 tracks, albums, 45's, 78's, etc
musical instruments
the almighty dollar
wrist watches and other time pieces
the very computer screen you are looking at now
on
&
on
ad nauseam

Bubblegum anyone?

2006-01-04T18:41:00.000-08:00

Ever feel like you should have invented something? Here is a list of my woulda/coulda/shoulda inventions:

Eco-friendly Submarine: As a child, this was inspired by a toy periscope and a great number of huge cardboard boxes that came from moving. I do admit that it being echo friendly was not on my mind at all but it did turn out pretty cool. Was it a success? It was in that it sat in our garage and was great fun. It was not in the sense of being watertight which I did not test since I was in Az (and my parents probably wouldn’t let me).

“We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine…”

Wooden go-cart: About the same time as the submarine, I decided to build a go cart. It was constructed from scrap wood and had plastic lawn mower wheels. It was complete with a rudimentary steering system. The plan was to drag this behemoth up a very steep hill in the neighborhood and ride in down. I did get it up the hill but the thing collapsed to the ground after I sat on it so I ended up dragging it back home. That was when I learned that axles are a good thing.

Moonscreen: The rural southwest can have some impressively bright moonlit nights. Once I learned that the moon reflected the sun’s rays, I figured it would only be a matter of time before we would need moonscreen. This, of course, would lead to other products like moonglasses and moonhats. Fortunately for us, this is not necessary because of the weakness of the moonlight. Unfortunately for me, that also meant there would not be much of a market for it.

Bubble gum toothpaste: As a kid I always thought it would be great to combine bubble gum and toothpaste so kids would not have to brush their teeth in the morning. You could even have a “floss” flavor where small strings of the stuff would be in the gum. It did have a few problems. It didn’t taste good, it was difficult to combine toothpaste and bubble gum in my bathroom at home, the floss got stuck between your teeth, and it was impossible to blow bubbles.

Years later, I found out that toothpaste gum was actually available in Japan. But did it have floss in it? No.

C U @ Circuit City

2006-01-03T18:41:00.000-08:00

A few years ago I was sitting in the bathroom of the Circuit City electronics store in Albuquerque (don't you love it when a story starts that way?). I was minding my own business (doing my business) when a phone rang. It came from the stall next to me which I found quite amusing. Then my amusement turned into astonishment.

The guy answered the phone and proceeded to carry on a lengthy conversation. This of course violated guy's bathroom etiquette. Guys don't talk in bathrooms. We barely even acknowledge each other due to the seriousness of what goes on in there. It is a ritual based on years of learned code and conduct. And this guy was on a cell phone?! I knew at that point that cell phones had gone too far.

Flash forward to this past weekend. I went to Alb to pick up H who was coming back from Chicago. I was at the Circuit City to ogle a digital camera when I ended up in the bathroom again. This time I had a cell phone and was wondering if I would actually answer it if it rang. After all, H's flight had already been delayed so it would not have surprised me to get another update. I decided not to push my luck and got outta there.

Then, I went around the corner and there was "D and C McGoogle from the clan McGoogle" (the names have been changed to protect the innocent). These were college friends whom I had not seen in almost 9 years....Amazing. I had gone to college with C and her husband D had the unfortunate fate of being exposed to a bunch of pharmacy students while his wife went to school.

You know those friends where you seem to pick up the conversation right where it left off...Even if it was years ago? That's how it was. We reminisced about old times. Caught up briefly on what was going on in our lives and were amazed at how much we laughed at pharmacy/medical humor. Who could forget the joke about craniorectal fistula? Ok...I guess you had to be there. I assure you it was quite funny if not a bit nerdy.

Eventually, I left the store and headed to the airport. It's good to know that some people remain as cool and hilarious as you remember. Who knew Circuit City could be so interesting? I wonder what will happen next time.

Stormy Monday

2005-12-20T11:20:00.000-08:00

“They call it Stormy Monday
but Tuesday’s just as bad.
They call it Stormy Monday
but Tuesday’s just as bad.
Wednesday’s worse
and Thursday’s oh so sad.”
T-Bone Walker

Monday morning started out at 6:15 am with one of our technicians calling in sick. This leaves the Pinon pharmacists without typing/filling/translation help so I had this on my mind as I went to work.

Monday continued with the opening pharmacist also calling in sick. The tech who was scheduled to open was also off and somehow the person that was to cover was not informed. Then our greeter called in and said she’d be late this morning. This left the other Assistant director trying to be a greeter/ opening pharmacist/opening technician/ along with her other considerable duties which include orienting a new contract pharmacist and showing around a pharmacist interested in our residency program.

Not a good Monday… but Tuesday doesn’t look any better if people continue to be on sick leave. But what can you do besides try to heal people?

Then T-Bone came on the IPod and it just seemed so apropos.

untitled

2005-12-15T19:22:00.000-08:00

Where is your canyon?
The place in your travels where you are free
to listen
to your heart echoing on sandstone walls;
a sweet relief at being able to play.

Where is your sand?
The place where you can unfold your mind
to remember
how it feels between your toes;
the unabashed joy which it brings.

Where is your meadow?
The place so quiet you can hear your own soul
laughing,
reaching into the sky with weary arms,
breaking free from the noise and clutter.

Where is your land?
The place you can allow yourself to rest,
to recover
in the knowledge of self origin
and certainty of self identity.

KJA '98

A "How to" DSL guide

2005-12-09T05:57:00.000-08:00

I recently had to transfer my DSL service to another line. While this sounds like a relatively straightforward objective, I found it to be quite an experience.

How to transfer your Frontier DSL service in 12 not so easy steps:

1. Call up Frontier Business Office and tell them that you would like your DSL transferred from one phone line to another. Get told by Frontier representative that it will be no problem. Get told to call back a couple days before you need this done.
2. Call Frontier Business Office a couple days later and get told that it cannot be done. Get told that you will have to give up the DSL line and wait for another free slot to open up for the new line. Argue that you were told it would not be a problem 2 days ago. Get told to call back in a few hours in order for the representative to confer with her supervisor.
3. Call back in a few hours and end up talking to the supervisor who gets your information. Get told it will not be a problem and the DSL will be started in a couple of days.
4. The very next day, get called by supervisor who tells you that the phone line the DSL account is linked to will have to be shut off. Tell the supervisor that is fine.
5. Check to see if DSL is working on the appointed day only to find that it is not. Call the Frontier Technical Support line and be told that DSL was NOT added to the line but a Dial-Up service was. Get told there is not much that can be done until the Business Office opens the next day.
6. Call the business office at 8am the next day and spend 10 minutes trying to explain the situation to person A. Person A believes the entire phone line was supposed to be transferred, not just the DSL service, but she is not sure. Then get told the supervisor will call you back, as person A does not know. In the meantime, got to work.
7. Call the business office from work and talk to supervisor who gets your information all over again. Apparently, the Business Office had the WRONG NUMBER that you wanted the DSL service transferred to. Get told by supervisor that you should have DSL service in 30 minutes or so.
8. Check on DSL at lunch (2 hours after step 7 occurred) and find that it still is not working. Somehow you are not surprised. Call the Technical Support line again and explain the situation. Thankfully the Tech support people see it your way and make their own call to Frontier Business Office on your behalf. You then find out that something needs to be physically done to your line before DSL can be available which will take a day or two.
9. Receive phone call from phone technician at 4:30 that same day. They have set up DSL on the line but don’t know if your account name and password would be the same. Unfortunately, you are to busy at work and cannot drop everything to run home and try it.
10. Get home after work and try DSL. It actually works! But only for short periods of time. Call Tech Support and find out that indeed your account name and password have been changed. Hunt for new password until you find it (you vaguely remember supervisor talking about changing username and password during step 3); thank Tech Support for their help only to have DSL go out again a few minutes later. Get sick of calling people and decide to deal with it later.
11. Call up Business Office again the next day. Find out that username and password were not even close to what you thought they were. Ask if change in username and password will affect your email account with Frontier. Get told that it will not.
12. Try DSL with correct username and password and it FINALLY works. Then try to check email on Frontier account only to find out that you no longer have that email account even though you were specifically told it would not change (see step 11). Call Tech Support Line and confirm that you can no longer use that email address. At least Tech Support allows you until 8pm that day to get all messages and addresses you need off that website.
13. Enjoy your DSL service with the knowledge that it took no less than 12 phone conversations to do it (7 phone conversations with the seemingly bumbling and uninformed Frontier Business office, 4 calls to the much more pleasant and helpful Frontier Technical Support line, and 1 phone call from a Frontier Phone Technician), not to mention the inconvenience of having to change your email address. Estimated phone time is 5-10 minutes per call. This brings the grand total to 1-2 HOURS spread over a number of day that it took to get this done.

Now I ‘m no expert, BUT how does one survive while running a business this way? What happened to the concept of customer service? Most people would give up and go with another company early on in this ordeal. I wish I had that option. Being as rural as we are on the Navajo reservation, Frontier is the only company that offers DSL service. As a frustrated consumer of Frontier it looks like the answer is: we can treat consumers the lowest level of customer service because we have no competition. After all, where else are they going to go?

if they could bottle it, it would be priceless

2005-12-08T17:25:00.000-08:00

Some people wish they had more money
some people wish they had more power

ever hit that snooze button,
curl back up into the covers,
wishing away the impending dawn?

ever think you could use a 2 hour lunch?
maybe a nap in the middle of the day?
ever feel like there is no time to play?

when do I play guitar?
when do I listen to the blues?
when do I read my magazines?
when do I play on the net?
when do I research our next adventure?
when do we hike,
bike,
climb,
run,
shop
dine out,
take pictures,
see a movie,
go to concerts,
go for a drive,
appreciate autos,
appreciate nature,
make lists on the internet?

Some people wish they had more money
some people wish they had more power

I wish I had more time

A loud YAAAWWWNN

2005-12-08T17:16:00.000-08:00

The problem is, everyone is not like me:

Usually, I am an easy going person. But there is a coworker of mine who really gets under my skin. Every time he pushes off work onto someone else, it irritates me. Every time he loudly yawns like he is completely bored when everyone else is working their @sses off, it irritates me. Every time he leaves right at 5 o’clock when everyone else ends up staying 20-30 minutes longer to help with the end-of-the-day rush, it irritates me. What’s all the more irritating is that he’s been doing this for years so he is obviously being rewarded enough for his behavior to still be here.

I started to think, the problem is…he’s not like me. I’ve just got to learn that people do not change, that not everyone will have my perspective. But what if everyone did! What if we could actually change people? What if we adjust people’s work ethics (or lack thereof)? What if we could make people more efficient? What if we could make people more confident? What if we could make people ask for help when they really need it? What if we could make others learn how to figure it out for themselves? What if everyone could be the same? It sounds like the beginnings of some sort of cult or at least a science fiction cult classic.

Remember the commercial where the guy cloned himself in order to help people more? Wasn't his name Ping? That’s how it would be. I hate to admit it but I’d probably be bored if everyone was like me. In fact, I find it hard to believe that I would be the model for such “cloning”. In reality (if you can call it that), I would probably be changed to be like someone else. All originality would be gone and the problem would be different.

The problem is…everyone IS like me.

Even with this thought, it’ll still piss me off the next time I hear that loud yawn.

It's a code code world

2005-12-07T06:04:00.000-08:00

I recently had to change my passwords/passcodes at work. You know, 6-8 characters long, with symbols and numbers, changed every 3 months. I was staring at the computer for the longest time. I think I've actually run out of ideas. How can this be?

Let's see...8 years of working here...4 different codes for work...changing it every 3 months or so...that's 128 passwords that I've had to come up with so far. No wonder my brain hurts.

Then I started counting all the things that need passwords/passcodes from me and came up with around 30 of them. I'm talking about credit cards, online bills, online checking, various e-mails, the 2 systems we use at work, work e-mail, debit cards, travel websites, shopping websites, etc....

When did my life get so complicated?

That's it, I'm making all the passwords the same.

And then when I forget what it is...I'm really screwed!

KJA-FM

2005-10-06T22:18:00.000-07:00

I recently was asked to write a memo stating my interest in moving up the pharmacy ladder. I did not know what the next position was officially called so I asked. Apparently, I might become one of two Deputy Chief Pharmacists.

Not really expecting an answer, I asked “Do we get a badge?”

“Badges? We don’t need no stinking badges”, was the reply. Meanwhile, Bob Marley is running through my head….

I shot the sheriff,
but I did not shoot the deputy.
I shot the sheriff,
but I swear it was in self defense…

Later, I was thinking. So who did shoot the deputy? That information is suddenly important to me.

And now, a word from our sponser…
(insert advertisement here)
And now, back to the show…

One of the things I have to do now is be a NO (Narcotic Officer). It sounds easy enough but the headaches have already started. I was suddenly in charge of ordering enough narcotics to last us 2 ½ weeks because of fiscal year budget concerns AND this was my very first narc order. No pressure, no pressure….if anything runs out, then who will they blame? Me. How am I supposed to know how much we’ll use? I took an educated guess but found out later that my methods were based on untrustworthy information.

I did make an order, we did run out of a few items, the pharmacy is still standing, but it still felt like it was my fault.

This is when Ben Harper comes to mind:

If you’re gonna take the praise,
you’re gonna have to learn to take the blame

And just because it seems like I have a radio station playing in my head, I am always reminded of a Tom Petty song:

I can hear you calling
on my supernatural radio

So I guess I’m not the only one. Or maybe I’m just going crazy very, very slowly. But then again, one could argue that we all are.

At any rate, the soundtrack to my life plays on…

a long, deep breath

2005-10-06T21:39:00.000-07:00

I take a long, deep breath. The crisp, clear air always helps clear my head. This is the life, riding out here in the middle of nowhere, just me and the sound of my tires on the road. There is a certain comfort in cranking out the miles.

Suddenly, a biker passes me with a sign advertising some online website. I notice a car slowly passing that has a license plate with an animated advertisement for an online dating service. Although a little confused, I try to put it out of my head and enjoy the countryside.

It gets harder and harder to do so. Every vehicle has something to sell. Everyone has a shirt on that wants my money: stocks and bonds, insurance, holiday toys, travel deals, ways to make fast money, better website management…the list goes on and on.

Then I’m not biking at all. I’m standing in front of my post office box. Things slowly start to make sense as I put my key into the lock. I open my mail box with a growing sense of uneasiness. The box explodes and pieces of mail go everywhere. Patrons have to step over the mess I’ve created as I stare in wide eyed wonder at how so much mail could have come from such a small box. A postman gives me a disapproving shake of the head. Women are telling their kids not to be like me. I have become a cautionary tale. How did this happen? What have I done?

Like floating to the glassy surface of a large pool, it finally occurs to me what this dream is all about.

DAMN SPAM! Now it’s even in my dreams.

Eating at Carl's

2005-09-25T23:02:00.000-07:00

I reluctantly decided on Carl's Jr for lunch. What I really wanted was to have an O'Neils burger but this was Gallup after all, a far cry from Albuquerque. Still, I had a hankering for some bacon and green chili on a burger.

The Six Dollar Burger with guacamole costed me (or accosted me) $7.63. Does that not make sense to anyone else?

As I settle at a table with my coke to wait for my order, I start looking at my "things to buy at Gallup" list. Soon, my order comes and the interesting part begins.

A guy walks into Carl's Jr and orders a burger to go. Nothing else, just a burger. Then he waits for the kids behind the counter to fix up his order. He fidgets, looks around, fidgets some more, looks around some more, checks out the salsa, and take a little bit for himself. He obviously has somewhere to go.

When his number is called, he picks up the order and asks the kid, "So how far is the police station?"

"I don't even know where it is", replies the kid.

Visibly frustrated, the man turns around and asks everyone in the place, "Does anyone here know how to get to the police station?" "Want to turn myself in", he adds.

"I do", says a young lady a couple of tables to my right. She then proceeds to give him detailed instructions.

I'm sitting there thinking...is he kidding? Turn himself in? What did he do? Is he dangerous? And why does this young lady have detailed instructions memorized? What did she do? Is she dangerous? And by the way, will the people at Carl's Jr have to keep renaming their Six Dollar Burger as inflation rises? Will people actually buy a Six Dollar Burger for 8-9 bucks? Is this burger cooked on the premises or is it merely reheated? It's actually not bad but am I getting my 7 dollars worth? What the hell, I decide, at least it comes with a show.

With his newfound knowledge, the burger man heads toward the door but stops short of it. I can't see what he's doing but part of me is expecting him to pull out a weapon. Maybe I should have eaten somewhere else. Maybe I should have eaten earlier. Maybe I should mind my own business. Turns out the guy was just getting his burger ready. As he leaves, he takes a big bite.

Shortly thereafter, I am done. The Six Dollar Burger was just too big and it's a shame to waste the rest but I can't keep it. As I am throwing out my trash, the burger man comes back into the place.

"I forgot to get a drink", he says as he leans on the counter oblivious to the fact that the soda fountains are behind him.

As much as I want to know what happens next, I feel that it's my cue to leave.

Exit stage left.

Dear Judge

2005-09-06T20:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Judge,

I just want to thank you for having me in your court room. Thank you for sending me a Summons to Jury Duty although it was a particularly bad time for me to leave work. Thanks for having me figure out where the heck St. Johns Arizona is. Thank you for having me drive 2 hours to get to jury duty and 2 hours to get home. Thanks for having me wait in an uncomfortable wooden chair for 5 hours while you all decided on the jurors that you wanted. Thanks for the 12 dollars you gave us for spending the day there and the money you gave us for gas. But above all, thanks for not picking me to be in the jury (no really, thank you).

Sweating but relieved,
Potential Juror

Dear Potential Juror,

I'm glad to see that you enjoyed yourself. Don't thank me too much for not being selected, there's always next time.

The Judge

It's always Thursdays that get you

2005-09-01T13:59:00.000-07:00

We work a 7 day inpatient pharmacy shift from Friday to Friday afternoon. This means a pharmacist has inpatient duties during the day and is on call at night for seven days in a row. Prior to these seven days, you still work a usual 5 day work week. So this means you work 11 ½ days in a row (we get to leave at noon on the last day to make up for being on call) then you get 4 days off.

Fridays – aka what the h@#$ is going on?
Fridays we switch with the pharmacist coming off call. Usually they have this giddiness about finally being free from the electronic leash called the pager while you're dreading the weekend. Meanwhile you're still trying to figure out who’s on what med, who has what condition, what strange meds are we making, who’s on first, what’s on second (you get the idea)...

Saturday – aka hope you brought your running shoes
During the weekends we have only 1 pharmacist and 1 tech so you run around like a head without a chicken (or a chicken w/out a head…whatever your perspective may be). People don’t want to be in the hospital on weekends so there usually is a fair amount of discharges which means the pharmacist needs to prepare meds and counsel the patient about them. Also, the Emergency Room calls you every half hour or so wanting you to fill a med written for a patient who did not get refills during the week (when they were supposed to). Not to mention the meds you need to make for the people still in the hospital.

Sunday- see Saturday
Hopefully some people have left but that doesn’t mean more have not come in overnight. Same as Saturday.

Monday – aka thank goodness outpatient is open
Now you can send discharges to the outpatient pharmacy to get meds filled and dispensed and E.R. can send patients to the other pharmacy to get meds instead of calling you.

Tuesday –aka hitting your stride
By this time you’ve got your groove back. You feel like things are going as they should. The hospital inpatient census seems manageable because of all the people that were discharged over the weekend.

Wednesday – aka winding back up
Today you are wondering why you thought it was OK yesterday. The census starts to creep back up as you notice lots of admits every morning and less discharges in the afternoons.

Thursday – aka Thursdays always get you
By now you have been working 10 days straight, have not got the best sleep for 6 nights because you carry a beeper that is on your nightstand as you sleep. Perhaps you have had a few calls in the middle of the night so you feel like a zombie surviving on caffeine. You also can start to see the light at the end of the tunnel and tell yourself “I just need to make it through 1 ½ more days.” To compound matters, all the weird meds get made at this point in the week so you can’t count on the familiarity of repetition to get you through. The people that get weekly intravenous meds come in and you get all kinds of med requests in the morning. It’s so bad that we now have 2 pharmacists in inpatient just for Thursday mornings.

At home after work, you start thinking about the upcoming weekend so you want to pack, finalize travel plans, and sleep well so it’s all that much more aggravating when you get beeped for pharmacy questions throughout the night.

Somehow Thursday seems the hardest and the most tiring.

Friday – aka free at last
You have a ½ day to get as many of the loose ends tied up as possible so the transition to the next pharmacist can go smoothly. The light is here. The shackles will be opened. As you hand over the beeper to the next pharmacist you feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. Then go back to the outpatient pharmacy and again tie up as many loose ends before noon when it’s time for you leave.

As you walk away to your well earned 4 day weekend, you feel so light, a little tired, a little delirious, like you’re walking on the moon. Sometimes you think it wasn’t that bad. Sometimes you go home to lick your wounds and start the healing process.

damn straight

2005-09-01T11:16:00.000-07:00

There are not many social contexts when you are asked to look at someone’s ear. My head was in what looked like some strange torture device as my optometrist was looking deep into my left eye with a very bright light. With my right eye, I stared at her ear. I tried to imagine any other situation where you were allowed to do so. As far as ears go, I guess hers was not bad. Still, it would be very strange if people stared at each other’s ears in other situations; dinner parties, dates, ball games…..
“Ok, now look down.”
“Now, look up…..good.”
“So, you and H are dating now?” Suddenly the conversation steered into the direction of my love life. Not a very smooth transition in the conversation but I didn’t mind. It is a pretty small community that we live in so everybody knows a little about everybody’s business. Or so they think.
“Yes we are”, I answered.
“So when are you guys getting married?” Now this I did mind. While I have gone biking with a group of people that included my optometrist and her newly wedded husband, I didn’t feel like I knew her well enough to go into the specifics of our relationship.
“I don’t know.”
“Well, you better find out”, she said. Was she chiding me? Was she teasing me? It’s hard to tell with someone you only have a conversation with about every 2 years. If my prescription lasted longer than 2 years, the intervals would be even longer. Still, if I could see into the future…Elvis would be proud.

Due to the excruciating logistics of a wedding, we would give up and have it in Vegas. You know at one of those places that has 20 weddings a day.
I would be waiting nervously. My family and friends would be there enthusiastically. H’s family would be there reluctantly while her friends would probably find it the whole thing rather humorous. My optometrist and general physician would be there with very confused looks on their faces.
“It’s now or never
come hold me tight
kiss me my darling
be mine tonight…”
H is, of course, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen (but I’m biased) as she makes her way beside me. Then Elvis makes his entrance amidst much ado. He is sort of a combination of the 60’s svelte version and the rhinestone studded 70’s version with his huge hair, enormous glasses, and gold lame suit.
Elvis is straight to the point and remembers his lip curl, “Do you take this man?”
“Damn straight”, says H.
“Do you take this woman?”
“Hell yeah”, I say.
“Then by the power invested in me by the great state of Nevada, I now pronounce you Elvis and Pricilla. You may kiss the bride.”
We have our passionate, but tasteful, kiss and proceed out of the building under a shower of sparkling gold confetti. Outside a rented pink Caddy awaits to take us to the airport for the start of our New Zealand honeymoon adventure. We take one look back for tearful and excited goodbyes. In the background, Elvis starts dancing while he announces, “The couple has left the building.”
“Well it’s a 1 for the money
2 for the show,
3 to get ready now go cat go
but don’t you
step on my blue suede shoes…”

“Well, you better find out”, she says. I’m back in the dim office of my optometrist. I say nothing and she realizes this is a cue to move on to a different subject of conversation.
“So do you still ride?”
“Yeah, when I find the time”, I reply.

The Cricket Hunter

2005-08-07T21:02:00.000-07:00

It's 11:30 on a Saturday night and I find myself crouched in the darkness of my front yard, armed with a headlamp and a spray can of insect killer, straining to hear the very cricket that has kept me up for hours. Wait, there it is to my left. As I shift my weight, the beast senses my approach and goes quiet hoping that it can hide in the darkness. It is a foolish hope for my patience is fueled by my distaste for it's shrill call and my desire for sleep. The cricket's cry burns in my memory as I wait for it to start up again. In the silence, I laugh at myself and begin to wonder how I got here.

It all started innocently enough. I was working the weekend, which meant being on call for pharmacy questions. After an 8 hour day at work, dinner, and spending some time with my lady :), I was ready for bed. Unfortunately, the calls started coming in. The hospital staff had questions about what medicatons we do and do not carry. It never ceases to amaze me that we get these calls even though there are multiple copies of the list of meds that we carry at the hospital. Basically, if it's not on the list, then our hospital doesn't have it. Still, they call. So what I do is refer to my copy of the list at home and tell them what they probably already know but just want to verify, "No we don't have that med. Yes, you will have to use something else."

It was after a couple of such calls at 10:30 and 11pm that I lay in bed staring at the darkness above me. I was not able to fall asleep because of this cacophonous shrill eminating from my bedroom window. 11 pm came and went but the sound kept going. Was it a buzzing sound? Then it was about 11:30. Was it a machine of some sort? Was it my neighbor's alarm clock? I got out of bed, opened my window and realized it was a cricket. Don't they ever sleep? Have they no respect? Haven't they heard of being on call?

Now why would the sound of a cricket keep me awake you might ask. Was this a super large mutant cricket? A cricket with a PA system? Well, this is rural Az. Other than the cricket sound, there is nothing. Plus, I am a light sleeper, especially when I have a beeper that I need to listen out for. So after careful consideration, I found my insect killer, my head lamp, turned off the light in my front yard, and headed out the door.

Welcome to The Cricket Hunter ladies and gentleman. Tonight we've got a loud one. What I'm going to do is sneak around in a crouched position, listening out for it's shrill mating call, and attack it with my trusty spray.

Oh, there it goes. And now it's stopped. So, we wait...

Oh, there goes again. Ah,it has taken refuge in a deep crack where the sidewalk meets the wall thus giving itself a natural means of amplification and protection. Very impressive grasshopper. Alas, it's very means of amplification has given itself away. Now I turn on my head lamp and whip out my spray...

The cricket didn't have a chance.

The TV pilot didn't either. The Cricket Hunter will NOT be following the likes of The Croc Hunter on an animal channel near you.

I can say that the silence was sweet when it was gone. Sleep was my reward...until, of course, the hospital beeped me again at 1:30 am but that is another story.

home

2005-08-03T21:53:00.000-07:00

home
is where you go
at the end of the day
to relax
unwind
forget about the time

home
is where you dream of
when you travel
the familiar
the comfort
of things you know
and love

home
is your face
your embrace
so when the world is cruel
and heartless
when I have had enough
I dream of you
and home

KJA 7-05

rattle and hum

2005-08-01T17:01:00.000-07:00

I went for a mountain bike ride yesterday with some friends. I felt like the new kid on the block because it had been only the second time I'd been on a bike in 3 months. I felt like I huffed and puffed up hills that wouldn't have given me a problem in the past....

just another turn of the crank
my legs burning in protest
the end never seems near
so I don't dare look up

I keep telling myself
that I accept personal challenges
in my life

I keep telling myself
it's my own fault
I allowed myself to get
in the (lack of) shape I'm in

why am I doing this anyway?
this is supposed to be fun?
has my bike gotten heavier?
why, why why?

what?
we're done with the uphill?
sweet!

i roll into the big gears
as gravity gets behind me
i start to feel so much lighter
as my bike starts to sing

i missed the sounds
the rattle of my bike pump
the hum of the tires on the trail
my rear hub whining at the speed
things going by my periphery
in a bllluuuurrrrrrr

nothing else exists
but the trail coming up fast

i smile to myself
because this is why, why, why

let it hum.

Part 1- The rug

2005-07-31T18:16:00.000-07:00

I was up for promotion last year. Basically, this meant that I had a chance at higher rank and pay and would be for the next 3 years. In the system I work for, promo is dependent upon a number of factors including your supervisors ratings, your resume, your years of service, the level of responsibility your job entails, your dedication to the organization, etc...

I was hopeful. I figured that I worked very hard and saw that others around me got there promotions without much trouble. Boy was I wrong.

I did not get promoted. I recall with vivid clarity walking into my new bosses office to discuss it. He was more surprised that I was. That was definitely not a good day. The rug was pulled out from under me.

How can it be that I could work hard, stay out of trouble and not be rewarded? Why was I being punished? It didn't seem to make any sense. A coworker of mine was promoted. The colleges that had come into this system the same time as I had were promoted.

It's times like these that make you question why you're busting your but for 40+ hours a week, year after year. It certainly isn't the money, because we could get paid a whole lot better in other settings. I started to wonder if a different setting is what I needed.

Part 2 - The aftermath

2005-07-31T17:45:00.000-07:00

So I went about trying to figure out what I had done wrong. I tried not to take things personally but it was pretty hard. Was it the promo system that I did not know? Was this whole life not for me? So many questions, so little answers.

Of course, my boss had done all he could to help my cause and that hadn't be enough. He then put me in touch with someone higher than him whom I could complain to. There are still no clear answers, just factors that had influenced the outcome of my being "passed over" which basically meant that I was recommended for promo but did not score high enough to actually be promoted. The potential reasons varied from: my prior boss not scoring me very highly probably because her and I did not communicate very well towards the end of her tenure, my ignorace of the promo system and what I needed to show in my paperwork, my resume not reflecting the amount and quality of work that I actually do, the number of slots that were available for promo that year, and the fact that I was not informed enough to even know what I was doing wrong. It still angers me that I was completely blind-sided by this. I guess I should have made it a point to be more informed.

Throughout the next few months I concentrated on changing the things I could, I was officially recognized for my contributions to the job by my supervisor, I went to trainings to figure out how I could present myself better on paper, and tried to settle in my mind the questions I had about working here.

In the end, I settled myself with the thought that I am here to help people. More specifically, to help the people of my tribe by helping to provide health care. That was and remains the important thing, everything else is just icing on the cake. So I learned to count my blessings: the fact that I have a good job, a long time girlfriend, friends and family who really care, and a coworkers (most of them) that are truely exceptional people.

But now that I had that figured out, it did not ease my mind any when the anguish and stress of promotion time came again. What would happen this time?

Part 3 - The bittersweet symphony

2005-07-31T17:24:00.000-07:00

I got promoted this year, effective July 1st. My mother congratulated me and said it meant more money, more taxes, and more responsibility. My coworkers congratulated me. My girlfriend bought me a new set of shoulder boards so my uniform would reflect the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Still, it took some time to sink in. For awhile I couldn't really even enjoy it because I was still angry. I still don't know if I've let it all go. I wonder if I really had to go through what I did the past year. Then again, it may mean more to me now than it would have a year ago. In any case, I find myself slowly relaxing at work again and being able to enjoy myself more. I'm still not sure the promotion system is all that great but it is what it is and I've learned I've got to play the game a little. It just all seems a little bitter sweet.

"'Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, this life
Try to make ends meet
Try to find some money then you die
I'll take you down the only road I've ever been down
You know the one that takes you to the places
where all the things meet yeah

You know I can change, I can change
I can change, I can change
But I'm here in my mold
I am here in my mold
And I'm a million different people
from one day to the next
I can't change my mold
No, no, no, no, no" - The Verve

PS- this is a thank you to everyone who helped me get through this crazy year

type

2005-06-30T21:24:00.000-07:00

cabs honk if you're a half second too slow
and the CTA rumbles past

I'm a type B

everybody is talking on the go
and everybody wants things fast

I'm visiting a type A world

here roses aren't free to bloom
because no one would stop to smell them

time is money

here roses only bloom
for those who can afford them

money is time

but the rumbles in the jungle
open the doors to blues clubs
to gospel served with breakfast
to a chance to meet a legend
to dinners with friends in warm places
to free music in the park
to art you've only read about
to smiling faces
and children playing

yeah, I'm a type B
yeah, time is money
but sometimes spending it
is definately worth it.
kja

Confessions of a gluttonologist

2005-06-19T12:07:00.000-07:00

This trip to Chicago has been brought to you by the letter G.

Gluttony- n. pl-tonies- the habit or act of eating too much.
Variations: gluttonize, gluttonized, glutonizing, gluttonously

I was eating at Taco Bell a few days ago and started to reminisce about all the good food that we had in Chicago:

Sat: AM-Kokopelli Deli@the Phoenix Airport
PM-Panda Express@O'Hare
Not a great start to our planned eating extravaganza but you gotta eat.

Sun: PM-Rezza's in downtown Chicago. The Hummus was indeed everything HH promised it would be, scallops were good, salmon was good, mushrooms....Ok everything was good.

Mon: Noon-Giordano's for pizza. That was the most filling personal sized pizza I've had. Service not so great but the food made up for it.
PM- Bob Chin's (not to be confused with Bob's Chin which I am told is not very good). The Alaskan King Crab turned out to be quite a bit of food which I, of course, had to finish. Nothing like fresh seafood. Something that's not readily available in Chinle, Az.

Tues: Noon-The deli at the Art Institute. Food was alright.
Wed: PM-A boat ride on the river leading to Soriso's (sp?). The lasagna was a brick. I did my best but had to leave some room for the giant meatball that came with my meal.

Wed: PM-Buddy Guy's Legends Bar. The cornbread left something to be desired but the BBQ ribs and chicken were pretty good. Not bad for bar food, plus I got to meet the man late into the evening.

Thurs:PM-Katsu for sushi. The tuna roll wasn't bad but the mango ice cream was something else. That was some good stuff.

Fri: PM-Smith and Wollenski for a 3 hour meal/eating event. I felt like I wolfed down that 14 oz steak and still helped eat the enormous...ENORMOUS...(did I mention it was enormous?) Seven Layer Chocolate Cake. I thought the cow shaped chocolate cookie on top of it was a nice touch. Seven of us attacked that thing but it still won.

Sat:PM-Emilio's Tapas. My introduction to tapas. I must say that it is quite good although that might be the raspberry sangria talking.

Sun: AM-McDonald's @ O'Hare
Noon-Quizno's just outside of Phoenix.
The fast food book ends to our journey.

Just a couple more words:

Gluttonology-the study of the habit or act of eating too much (ok, I made that one up)
Foma- that sleepy feeling you get when you eat too much, as in food coma (ok, I made that one up too).

So at the end of the week I felt like a certified gluttonologist because I got pretty good at recognizing foma.