red shoes, not red sox.

I have a strange obsession with Minneapolis/St. Paul. My entire life (or at least the past 3 years) I've had a burning desire to visit the Twin Cities in order to do the following:

1) Attend a live taping of my absolute favorite program, "A Prairie Home Companion," starring Garrison Keillor. It is performed weekly at the Fitzgerald Theatre in St. Paul.

2) Go to a Minnesota Twins game. The purpose of this would be two fold as my quest to visit every Major League Ballpark would be that much closer to completion and also because the Twins are arguably my favorite AL team (RIP O-Dog, good riddance Thome).

3) Visit my favorite Nelsons (that's NELSONS not NIELSONS).

Last week, one third of this goal was (partially) realized when I viewed a special live broadcast of "Prairie Home" shown in select theaters, nationwide. I sat alone in bliss watching and listening to GK and the crew up on the big screen. I'm pretty sure I was the only attendee under the age of 55, but I can assure you that it was the perfect end to an otherwise hellish week of school. Some may feel that the price was a little steep, but hey, we were supporting public radio and after all, it may be the closest I get to St. Paul for a while. Twenty-two dollars well spent.

skipop

If you go skiing on an epic powder/bluebird day, your experience will only be further enhanced when you come home and find what your roommate has purchased for only $1.25 from the local gas station (sadly, not a Mav): a huge bag of the butteriest (yes) popcorn imaginable. Here is a simple equation to demonstrate the kind of joy you can expect:

+

=

Dizzle of the most High

Upon viewing some old photos, I came across these gems and decided they must be shared with the world (and my blog readers). Please note her impeccable fashion sense (and that she's donning a doyers hat) in both shots. This is also an attempt to shame Heidi into making a comment on my blog; something she has yet to do although I KNOW she's reading...

Wizard of Aw's

Working night clinicals at the hospital is kinda awesome but also kinda awful. Awesome because you get to do stuff that you never would during the day. Awful because it throws off your whole sleep schedule. Hence, it is 2:30 AM and I'm wide awake pondering many random thoughts...

Maybe it's because I don't live in CougarTown any more, but apparently I was living under a rock and didn't realize that BYU basketball was 20-1 and ranked in the top 15. Way to go Cougs. (P.S. Did you know that Brigham Young University is the whitest college in the nation with at least 15,000 students? Interesting factoid...)

If you want an easy way to donate money to Haiti, you can simply text "Give" to 864233 (UNICEF). It is an automatic $5 donation and will just be tacked onto your phone bill, no extra charge. You can do it multiple times and 100% of the funds go to Haiti, not your phone company.

I hate shopping for clothes (ski/technical-type jackets not included in this statement), but I take great pleasure in grocery shopping. I generally allow myself one "splurge" item a week. Here's this week's delicious take home:

I've been doing some Sundancing this week, seeing as the Festival is going on and all. My favorite parts about the Sundance Film Festival are that I get to call movies "films" for a change, wear a black down coat (mandatory uniform if you want to cruise on Main Street in Park City), pretend that I live in a snowy-mountainous-Hollywood, and point out how cool I am several months later when the movies finally get widely-released to the general public. It's like saying you were into a band like "Vampire Weekend" way before they ever got popular. The films can be pretty hit or miss but I've been lucky enough to see some great ones the last few years. Some of my faves to check out: "The Visitor," and "Amreeka." This year we saw, "The Pat Tillman Story."

If the Dodgers had unlimited funds, and if these players were free agents, I would LOVE to sign the following guys: Ryan Howard, Matt Holliday, and Tim Lincecum. I know we don't need a first baseman or a left fielder but you can never have too many young pitching aces. I like these three and hate to see them continuing to play for NL teams that I vehemently oppose (actually the Cards are alright, but the Phillies and Giants should die a slow death).

Like him or not, President Obama is a pretty darn hard worker and a compelling speaker. Maybe he did take on too much in his first year of office, but when I listened to the State of the Union this week, I was overwhelmed with a feeling that he is busting his tail for this country and that he sincerely cares. Uh-oh, I've just gone and made this blog political... I'd better lighten the moment by including this ridiculous Obamicon of myself:

on a serious note...

I may just be an emotional person, but one thing is for sure: nursing school makes me cry at least once a week. These fits of emotion are occasionally brought on because of a heavy work-load or stress (the problem there is usually my own procrastination), but more often the crying results from stories shared by professors (accomplished career nurses themselves), case studies read for homework, or being bedside in the hospital with a dying patient. I never realized the emotional repercussions this line of work would bring. In many ways I feel like I haphazardly wandered into this career path without considering how HARD it is.

The photo above is of my friend, Anjali, who recently started sessions for a tattoo to commemorate the 2 year mark since her mother's death. I initially (and rather ignorantly) opposed this idea, but the conversation that she facilitated turned out to be a great eye-opening experience. Emotions and coping mechanisms are as varied as the billions of beautiful people who inhabit the earth.

My instructors constantly remind me that we are human, and a life devoid of passion would mark us as emotionless robots, not as compassionate caregivers. I guess it is not only okay, but expected that one will have intense feelings associated with death and dying, even in the workplace. Further, these feelings will be expressed in a myriad of medias. I'm taking a palliative/end-of-life care class this semester which has brought on a greater level of reality for me.

I'm grateful for unique opportunities that have allowed me to explore my ability to express empathy and consider losses (actual or anticipated) in my own life. Confronting these issues will hopefully aide me in being not just a better nurse, but a better friend, daughter, sister, aunt, etc.

I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions on this matter!

The curious incident of the mouse in the night-time

(if you're not sure what you're looking at here, these are pictures of L.Ro and I from our old Bean Museum taxidermy days at BYU. Don't ask.)

As I was walking out of Wal-Mart at 3 AM this morning in my pajamas and slippers- during a blizzard, mind you- I decided that I definitely need to get a husband (or at least a live-in boyfriend or male roommate- sorry mom and dad) ASAP. As I swerved my way home on the snow-covered roads devoid of other cars, I envied all the other people of American Fork sleeping peacefully in their beds.

Flash back to earlier when I was laying restless in bed (and had been for hours) absolutely convinced there was either a serial killer or a small animal rustling about in my room (not sure which of these would have been more terrifying). After working up enough courage to turn on my small bedside palm light, to my sheer horror I found- a mouse (!!!!!!!!!) sitting atop a picture frame on my wall. I sat crouched on my bed, completely paralyzed, stifling back screams that would surely wake up the whole house, trying to reason with myself. Try as I might, the strong, independent, confidant woman that I had been just hours ago (before learning that there was a rodent in my bedroom), had vanished and left a weak, helpless, scared little girl in her place, longing for some manly aide to take care of this problem. Knowing that I was too wired and terrified to sleep, let alone stay in the room, I slowly moved to the door, put on some slippers (after making sure there were no mice inside), grabbed my keys and headed for any store that would sell me a mouse trap at 3 in the morning. Upon returning from the store, I tiptoed into my roommate and woke her up like a frightened 4 year old after a bad dream, asking: "can I sleep with you tonight?"

I sincerely hope that the mouse doesn't resurface (dead or alive), I would much rather him/her find a new home elsewhere so that I don't have to kill it, but for my peace of mind, the traps lay all over the house. Not sure where I'll be sleeping tonight, but I hope it is more peaceful and less eventful than the last! If there are any strapping, brave young men out there who would like to come help a damsel in distress by either trapping a mouse or running pesky errands in the middle of the night, please comment here.

Leslie, I could may soon need your expertise in stuffing mice.

:)

Today Snow Hi 30 °F

Tonight Snow Lo 21 °F

Friday Snow Hi 21 °F

Friday Night Snow Lo 12 °F

Saturday Snow Hi 19 °F

Saturday Night Snow Likely Lo 9 °F