Shelli Armstrong's Blog, page 11
October 8, 2012
Secretary
The other day I was talking to a friend who had mentioned that she had a superior at her company encourage her to finish school because
That being said, when I have been job hunting in the past, there are plenty of "Office Manager" positions, "Executive Assistants", etc. that require, or prefer, applicants to have four-year degrees. But, regardless of desired education level, they all offer about the same amount of money when you are starting out.
I didn't go to college to be a secretary. But that's where I have found work. That's where all my experience is. So if I tried to find another position, it would likely be as an administrative something. Technically, I am much more than a secretary at my job, but try telling that to anyone else. And it really isn't what I want to do with the rest of my life. I don't want to be 65 and a secretary. I don't want to be 35 and a secretary.
So now what?
That statement has negatively resonated in my head for nearly a week, and I'm no closer to deciding what I should do about it. Apparently, I went to college to be a secretary.
No one goes to college to be a secretary.We were discussing her career, so I know that it was nothing meant towards me that she brought it up. And it's probably true, no one really goes to college to be a secretary. You don't often have to. A lot of secretary and receptionist positions require little more than a high school degree.
That being said, when I have been job hunting in the past, there are plenty of "Office Manager" positions, "Executive Assistants", etc. that require, or prefer, applicants to have four-year degrees. But, regardless of desired education level, they all offer about the same amount of money when you are starting out.
No one goes to college to be a secretary.I certainly didn't. Granted, I don't know what exactly I went to college to "be". I didn't want to be anything. I just really liked my classes. I had been told that as long as I had a degree, I could make money. And now I have a degree, and I have a steady paycheck, but I wouldn't exactly classify it as "money".
I didn't go to college to be a secretary. But that's where I have found work. That's where all my experience is. So if I tried to find another position, it would likely be as an administrative something. Technically, I am much more than a secretary at my job, but try telling that to anyone else. And it really isn't what I want to do with the rest of my life. I don't want to be 65 and a secretary. I don't want to be 35 and a secretary.
So now what?
That statement has negatively resonated in my head for nearly a week, and I'm no closer to deciding what I should do about it. Apparently, I went to college to be a secretary.
October 4, 2012
Maui is for Lovers
Remember that one time I went to Hawaii?
I. Loved. It.
In no particular order, I loved these things the best:
The weather -- sometimes it rained in the morning, but mostly, it was sunny and a little cloudy. Never really too hot, never too cold. Always lovely. Sometimes breezy. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.The views -- The ocean. The sunsets. The sunrise. The trees. The flora and fauna. The food -- Fish! (In particularly, Mama's Fish House. Pricey. But totally worth it. Twice.)The drives -- Road to Hana is awesome. So much that we did it three times. Sort of... more like, we attempted it, turned around, attempted it, somehow started at the beginning again, and then finally made it. After that, any time we had to go on Hana Highway, we considered it an attempt. By the 15th time, we were total pros. But I loved the twists and turns. The waterfalls. The bridges! The dirt road. The random picture adventures. The secreted beaches.The beaches -- need I say more? Every one of the beaches had their own appeal for different reasons. We visited at least seven different beaches, including: The Black Sand Beach, Koki Beach, Makena Beach, which were all my favorites. I loved the sand under my feet (except, as sand does, it gets everywhere) and the waves (unless they were knocking me over) and the sunsets on the beach, the people watching, and the reading on the beach! (I could do that everyday, for forever.)The sun -- It kept me warm and it didn't burn me. And despite what people say, I'm at least one shade darker than when I left. (As long as you don't look at my legs.)The diversity -- Between the beaches and the jungles, everything was so so so great.The hidden gems -- We stumbled upon Koki Beach on accident. We also discovered a charming little garden highlighting the different cultures that populate Hawaii today. We went off-roading into a giant field of sugar cane, which was a little scary and not very advisable in our economy car, but totally awesome until we stumbled across a few other people.The solitude -- There were a few times when I felt like I could be on the island all by myself and I LOVED it.The hike -- We hiked the Papawai trail, which takes you through a bamboo forest and up to a giant waterfall (which we didn't quite reach). The bamboo is awesome. The mosquitoes are not awesome. Next time I go, I'm going fully prepared for more hiking.The sunrise -- We were awake for it twice (crazy, right?). Once we were driving. And once, we were in Haleakala Crater National Park, watching from near the summit. It was breathtaking, mostly because we were freezing. The time change -- It is not as awesome coming back to Utah, but I loved that we were going to bed no later than 10 p.m., and waking up and going out and seeing things. It was very productive. I think it almost inspired me to change my ways. Almost.Banyan trees.Luau dancers -- Listen, those boys might have been no more than 18 years old, but they were attractive. And they had washboard abs, and more importantly, massive, muscley thighs. And fantastic smiles. And weren't half-bad dancers, either. Swoooooooooon. Our condo -- It was in a great location (Lahaina), two comfortable beds for Megan and me, an excellent shower with plenty of hot water, and was stocked with all the equipment we needed: body boards, snorkel gear (which we never used), beach chairs, beach towels, etc. etc. It was a great opportunity to stay in so nice a place for so inexpensively. And I almost forgot, my very favorite thing: NO BRA -- that's right. No bra. When you are spending the majority of the day in a swimsuit, there's just no use for it. I think I wore a bra three out of the eight days we were there. Magical. Seriously.I didn't think there could be a list of things that I didn't like about my trip But there were a few things that I am glad to know:Maui is not the place for single people, except for all of the reasons listed above. Just note that while attending the luau, the submarine adventure, on the road to Hana, or literally anywhere you go on the island, you will run into newlyweds, couples celebrating their anniversaries, couples, old couples, gay couples, and more couples. Everywhere. Maui is for lovers. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that someone thought that Megan and I were somehow...involved. However, we were not there on our honeymoon. Mosquitoes. I hate them. The grumpy guy at the luau is not interested in answering questions, he wants to drop off your drink in .00001 second because he has other tables to serve and wants tips, not to be friendly. He was the worst. And as I chatted with my seat mate on the plane, she complained that the locals are not very friendly. I didn't really interact with many locals, but if that guy was any way to gauge she was probably right. That's it. Did you think this list would be long? I was in MAUI!! Of course it isn't long.And now, the reason you are reading this post:
We took a lot of self portraits.
The beaches were amazing.
The sunsets were a perfect way to end the days' activities.
Loved everything about the road to Hana.
We are fun.
I. Loved. It.
In no particular order, I loved these things the best:
The weather -- sometimes it rained in the morning, but mostly, it was sunny and a little cloudy. Never really too hot, never too cold. Always lovely. Sometimes breezy. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.The views -- The ocean. The sunsets. The sunrise. The trees. The flora and fauna. The food -- Fish! (In particularly, Mama's Fish House. Pricey. But totally worth it. Twice.)The drives -- Road to Hana is awesome. So much that we did it three times. Sort of... more like, we attempted it, turned around, attempted it, somehow started at the beginning again, and then finally made it. After that, any time we had to go on Hana Highway, we considered it an attempt. By the 15th time, we were total pros. But I loved the twists and turns. The waterfalls. The bridges! The dirt road. The random picture adventures. The secreted beaches.The beaches -- need I say more? Every one of the beaches had their own appeal for different reasons. We visited at least seven different beaches, including: The Black Sand Beach, Koki Beach, Makena Beach, which were all my favorites. I loved the sand under my feet (except, as sand does, it gets everywhere) and the waves (unless they were knocking me over) and the sunsets on the beach, the people watching, and the reading on the beach! (I could do that everyday, for forever.)The sun -- It kept me warm and it didn't burn me. And despite what people say, I'm at least one shade darker than when I left. (As long as you don't look at my legs.)The diversity -- Between the beaches and the jungles, everything was so so so great.The hidden gems -- We stumbled upon Koki Beach on accident. We also discovered a charming little garden highlighting the different cultures that populate Hawaii today. We went off-roading into a giant field of sugar cane, which was a little scary and not very advisable in our economy car, but totally awesome until we stumbled across a few other people.The solitude -- There were a few times when I felt like I could be on the island all by myself and I LOVED it.The hike -- We hiked the Papawai trail, which takes you through a bamboo forest and up to a giant waterfall (which we didn't quite reach). The bamboo is awesome. The mosquitoes are not awesome. Next time I go, I'm going fully prepared for more hiking.The sunrise -- We were awake for it twice (crazy, right?). Once we were driving. And once, we were in Haleakala Crater National Park, watching from near the summit. It was breathtaking, mostly because we were freezing. The time change -- It is not as awesome coming back to Utah, but I loved that we were going to bed no later than 10 p.m., and waking up and going out and seeing things. It was very productive. I think it almost inspired me to change my ways. Almost.Banyan trees.Luau dancers -- Listen, those boys might have been no more than 18 years old, but they were attractive. And they had washboard abs, and more importantly, massive, muscley thighs. And fantastic smiles. And weren't half-bad dancers, either. Swoooooooooon. Our condo -- It was in a great location (Lahaina), two comfortable beds for Megan and me, an excellent shower with plenty of hot water, and was stocked with all the equipment we needed: body boards, snorkel gear (which we never used), beach chairs, beach towels, etc. etc. It was a great opportunity to stay in so nice a place for so inexpensively. And I almost forgot, my very favorite thing: NO BRA -- that's right. No bra. When you are spending the majority of the day in a swimsuit, there's just no use for it. I think I wore a bra three out of the eight days we were there. Magical. Seriously.I didn't think there could be a list of things that I didn't like about my trip But there were a few things that I am glad to know:Maui is not the place for single people, except for all of the reasons listed above. Just note that while attending the luau, the submarine adventure, on the road to Hana, or literally anywhere you go on the island, you will run into newlyweds, couples celebrating their anniversaries, couples, old couples, gay couples, and more couples. Everywhere. Maui is for lovers. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that someone thought that Megan and I were somehow...involved. However, we were not there on our honeymoon. Mosquitoes. I hate them. The grumpy guy at the luau is not interested in answering questions, he wants to drop off your drink in .00001 second because he has other tables to serve and wants tips, not to be friendly. He was the worst. And as I chatted with my seat mate on the plane, she complained that the locals are not very friendly. I didn't really interact with many locals, but if that guy was any way to gauge she was probably right. That's it. Did you think this list would be long? I was in MAUI!! Of course it isn't long.And now, the reason you are reading this post:
We took a lot of self portraits.
The beaches were amazing.
The sunsets were a perfect way to end the days' activities.
Loved everything about the road to Hana.
We are fun.
October 2, 2012
Coat of Arms (Please Vote)
My favorite author is hosting another contest that of course I had to participate in, especially since it was a call for creativity. She asked her fans to design a coat of arms for a prickly middle aged character that is known for putting everyone, including Napoleon Bonaparte, in place with her sharp-edged umbrella.
The only requirement was to have two crossed umbrellas, the rest was up to us.
You can see the other entries, and mine, here: http://www.laurenwillig.com/news/2012/10/02/pick-miss-gwens-coat-of-arms/
And if you decide to comment, I would appreciate if you mention that you like #4 the very best.
I won third place last year for a similar contest, but I'm just as eager to win another ARC copy of Lauren's newest book The Ashford Affair.
The only requirement was to have two crossed umbrellas, the rest was up to us.
You can see the other entries, and mine, here: http://www.laurenwillig.com/news/2012/10/02/pick-miss-gwens-coat-of-arms/
And if you decide to comment, I would appreciate if you mention that you like #4 the very best.
I won third place last year for a similar contest, but I'm just as eager to win another ARC copy of Lauren's newest book The Ashford Affair.
September 19, 2012
Foot Conclusion
My dad is convinced that one of the reasons why I'm still single is because I blog. The following picture will probably only help is argument, but I just think it is too funny.
But let me explain first.
At the beginning of August I fractured my foot. I didn't realize it at the time, and I don't really know how I did it, but I have a pretty good guess. At the beginning of August, I was home in Ohio playing at being an assistant photographer for my good friend Holly's wedding. While doing that, I happened to be crawling on a few granite walls and jumping onto my bare feet on the hard cement. (I couldn't very well be doing that in heels, after all.) That was nearly seven weeks ago.
By Monday (two days after the wedding), my foot was swollen and painful. By Wednesday, I was hobbling around. There was no end to the puffiness.
By week four or five, I had had enough and went to the podiatrist. At first, he couldn't find anything wrong with it. So he sent me home with a compression sock and anti-inflammatory pills.
I happen to be leaving for Hawaii in three days (!!!!!!!!) and wanted to have some clothes to take with me. So while I was wearing this sexy compression sock (see above) I was also hobbling around the mall. Do you see this amazing outfit? I look like a total tourist of the Hawaiian islands. All I'm missing is a sun visor, fanny pack and binoculars.
On Labor Day, my doctor called and told me that he had rechecked my x-ray and had found a hairline fracture in my first metatarsal.
Since the swelling seemed to only be aggravated by wearing heels and wedges (I kept trying to make that work for me), I wasn't too concerned. But as my trip to Hawaii neared, I was a little bit worried. Bones take at least eight weeks to fully heal. Again, I'm only almost to the seventh week. So I called the doctor and he told me to come in and get a boot.
I didn't like the idea of wearing a boot. It seemed too dramatic for a hairline fracture (and that's saying something, considering it's me...) although, everywhere you read, "a fracture is a break, and no less severe." And, once you start wearing one, you can't just take it on and off, or it can reverse the good that it does when it is on. Besides that, I went to the office and played Goldilocks.
I tried on the Large boot, and it was much too big. I tried on the Small boot, and my little toesies hung over. I needed a Medium for it to be just right and the office didn't have one, and it would have to be ordered from California. The admin lady said that it would probably be in the office in two days, but it turned out to be yesterday.
By yesterday, I could see the veins in my foot. There is nothing more than a slight, dull ache. It's obviously gotten better. And there's no way I'm wearing a boot for the next two weeks, seeing as how I'll be playing tourist in Maui in three days (!!!!!!).
So, in conclusion: I broke my foot. It's getting better, and very nearly almost there. I'm not wearing a boot because my bones heal themselves. And I'm going to Hawaii.
Sans khaki shorts, Hawaiian shirts, and compression socks.
But let me explain first.
At the beginning of August I fractured my foot. I didn't realize it at the time, and I don't really know how I did it, but I have a pretty good guess. At the beginning of August, I was home in Ohio playing at being an assistant photographer for my good friend Holly's wedding. While doing that, I happened to be crawling on a few granite walls and jumping onto my bare feet on the hard cement. (I couldn't very well be doing that in heels, after all.) That was nearly seven weeks ago.
By Monday (two days after the wedding), my foot was swollen and painful. By Wednesday, I was hobbling around. There was no end to the puffiness.
By week four or five, I had had enough and went to the podiatrist. At first, he couldn't find anything wrong with it. So he sent me home with a compression sock and anti-inflammatory pills.
I happen to be leaving for Hawaii in three days (!!!!!!!!) and wanted to have some clothes to take with me. So while I was wearing this sexy compression sock (see above) I was also hobbling around the mall. Do you see this amazing outfit? I look like a total tourist of the Hawaiian islands. All I'm missing is a sun visor, fanny pack and binoculars.
On Labor Day, my doctor called and told me that he had rechecked my x-ray and had found a hairline fracture in my first metatarsal.
Since the swelling seemed to only be aggravated by wearing heels and wedges (I kept trying to make that work for me), I wasn't too concerned. But as my trip to Hawaii neared, I was a little bit worried. Bones take at least eight weeks to fully heal. Again, I'm only almost to the seventh week. So I called the doctor and he told me to come in and get a boot.
I didn't like the idea of wearing a boot. It seemed too dramatic for a hairline fracture (and that's saying something, considering it's me...) although, everywhere you read, "a fracture is a break, and no less severe." And, once you start wearing one, you can't just take it on and off, or it can reverse the good that it does when it is on. Besides that, I went to the office and played Goldilocks.
I tried on the Large boot, and it was much too big. I tried on the Small boot, and my little toesies hung over. I needed a Medium for it to be just right and the office didn't have one, and it would have to be ordered from California. The admin lady said that it would probably be in the office in two days, but it turned out to be yesterday.
By yesterday, I could see the veins in my foot. There is nothing more than a slight, dull ache. It's obviously gotten better. And there's no way I'm wearing a boot for the next two weeks, seeing as how I'll be playing tourist in Maui in three days (!!!!!!).
So, in conclusion: I broke my foot. It's getting better, and very nearly almost there. I'm not wearing a boot because my bones heal themselves. And I'm going to Hawaii.
Sans khaki shorts, Hawaiian shirts, and compression socks.
Zombie Slayer
After work today, I stopped at my favorite nail salon and got a manicure and pedicure. I'm pretty sure the nail techs were making fun of the polish choice, but it is really growing on me. Luckily, nothing matches hunter orange.
Still, I like them. Also, in case you are wondering, I'm totally sold on the Shellac nails. They require maintenance, which is annoying, and if you pick off the polish yourself, it really does a number (damage) on the nail underneath. But, as long as I have the polish on, it keeps them strong and amazing and they grow long and don't break.
Then, because I have absolutely nothing to eat in my house, and I just happened to be driving next to Cafe Rio, I picked up a burrito. Delicious.
After, I got to preview a friend's film that will be submitted to the Sundance Film Festival this week.
And then I killed zombies for a couple of hours.
I have to admit, this whole zombie slaying thing never much interested in me. Nor did picking up the controller to any modern day game console. But, the boys have an Xbox and a zombie-slaying game, and even though I'm terrible at it, I can't help but slash away with my melee weapon and shoot at the chargers and boomers and whatever. I can't figure out ladders and aiming, and I easily get lost... but, there's been improvement and they haven't kicked me out of the house yet.
It's kind of fun. For a video game. I guess.
Overall, a good night.
Still, I like them. Also, in case you are wondering, I'm totally sold on the Shellac nails. They require maintenance, which is annoying, and if you pick off the polish yourself, it really does a number (damage) on the nail underneath. But, as long as I have the polish on, it keeps them strong and amazing and they grow long and don't break.
Then, because I have absolutely nothing to eat in my house, and I just happened to be driving next to Cafe Rio, I picked up a burrito. Delicious.
After, I got to preview a friend's film that will be submitted to the Sundance Film Festival this week.
And then I killed zombies for a couple of hours.
I have to admit, this whole zombie slaying thing never much interested in me. Nor did picking up the controller to any modern day game console. But, the boys have an Xbox and a zombie-slaying game, and even though I'm terrible at it, I can't help but slash away with my melee weapon and shoot at the chargers and boomers and whatever. I can't figure out ladders and aiming, and I easily get lost... but, there's been improvement and they haven't kicked me out of the house yet.
It's kind of fun. For a video game. I guess.
Overall, a good night.
September 17, 2012
Friend Zone
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It's not that hard.
September 14, 2012
The Tooth Fairy
There have been a few posts on Facebook about the Tooth Fairy visiting certain little kids today, and it made me think about my own experiences losing my baby teeth.
The first tooth I lost, I happened to be in Utah. My tooth was extremely loose, and I was nervous that it would hurt, so I refused to pull on it. I wiggled it plenty, but I didn't want it to actually fall out. We were in town for a family reunion (or funeral) and my uncles teased me relentlessly. My Uncle Allen and my grandpa chased me around my great grandparents' house with pliers and I was so nervous that they were seriously going to rip my tooth out of my face with pliers, that I hid in the bathroom and determined to remove the tooth myself.
My mom came in and helped me do it. It literally took seconds, because it was so loose from me playing with it the whole time, it didn't take much to get it out.
All that worrying for nothing.
The Tooth Fairy was extremely generous. I think I made something between $7 and $10. And that's because each of my uncles and my grandparents all contributed to the fund.
After that, though, I had a whole mouth of teeth, and there was just no way the Tooth Fairy could match what I had made in Utah. In fact, she never did come again. Or, I might have gotten an occasional quarter or so for a few other teeth. But she definitely wasn't consistent.
I guess the Tooth Fairy only has so much to give out, and if she happens to give it to you as an advance, you don't get any more, regardless, of how many teeth you have left.
It's funny how the Tooth Fairy allows for inflation. I swear that even though, after that first tooth, I was only getting nickels or quarters, my younger siblings got dollars. Real DOLLARS. Can you believe it?
I like some of the ideas that I have read online today about giving kids a gold dollar for their tooth. It's nothing extraneous or undeserved, but it is still special and not something that the kid would see on a regular basis. Perfect.
The first tooth I lost, I happened to be in Utah. My tooth was extremely loose, and I was nervous that it would hurt, so I refused to pull on it. I wiggled it plenty, but I didn't want it to actually fall out. We were in town for a family reunion (or funeral) and my uncles teased me relentlessly. My Uncle Allen and my grandpa chased me around my great grandparents' house with pliers and I was so nervous that they were seriously going to rip my tooth out of my face with pliers, that I hid in the bathroom and determined to remove the tooth myself.
My mom came in and helped me do it. It literally took seconds, because it was so loose from me playing with it the whole time, it didn't take much to get it out.
All that worrying for nothing.
The Tooth Fairy was extremely generous. I think I made something between $7 and $10. And that's because each of my uncles and my grandparents all contributed to the fund.
After that, though, I had a whole mouth of teeth, and there was just no way the Tooth Fairy could match what I had made in Utah. In fact, she never did come again. Or, I might have gotten an occasional quarter or so for a few other teeth. But she definitely wasn't consistent.
I guess the Tooth Fairy only has so much to give out, and if she happens to give it to you as an advance, you don't get any more, regardless, of how many teeth you have left.
It's funny how the Tooth Fairy allows for inflation. I swear that even though, after that first tooth, I was only getting nickels or quarters, my younger siblings got dollars. Real DOLLARS. Can you believe it?
I like some of the ideas that I have read online today about giving kids a gold dollar for their tooth. It's nothing extraneous or undeserved, but it is still special and not something that the kid would see on a regular basis. Perfect.
September 11, 2012
The Results Are In (from the doctor)
Summary: I spent the day at doctor's appointments and doing tests and labs and my insurance's website is crazy awesome because I already have the results posted online for me to look at. Oh. And I'm not dying; or anything like that.
You should not read further, if you don't want to know.
----------------------------------------------------------
I called the doctor yesterday because I wanted to be reassured that everything would be "in order" for me to go to Hawaii in 11 days. There are a few things that need to be cleared up, and it better happen or I'm going to be ticked.
The phone call resulted in an appointment scheduled today, and after dropping my dear Bronwyn off at the airport, that meant that I clocked in for one hour before medical stuff got in the way of the rest of my day. Because at my appointment, the doctor decided that I should probably have an ultrasound just in case. So I had to phone the office and tell them that instead of coming back, I had to go to the hospital.
I had my first set of ultrasounds when I was about 13 years old. The doctor did an internal ultrasound, and in my head up until last year when I had my second one, I remembered the wand being the size of a cucumber. It's not. I also remember going to do the regular ultrasound, with my poor father in tow, with two liters of water practically leaking out of my bladder as the technician pushed and plunged and dug around to get the images, making me hurt and so uncomfortable I wanted to cry. (And also, my DAD was there while I, a 13-year old girl, was having her uterus and ovaries examined. Traum.a.tizing. Just saying.)
Anyway, I guess with age comes a little less fear of the unknown, and a little less of the unknown, since I've been through this all before. I didn't try to drink SO much water, so I wasn't dying, and it really wasn't all that bad. Although, the tech probably thought I was a little crazy since I was insisting that the whole appointment would be a lot more fun if there were a baby to look at. Or that I was looking forward to the hemorrhagic cyst that could potentially burst at any moment.... And even though I didn't say it, I was thinking it... haha. Never mind. I can't even put it on my blog.
But the very best part, is that with online insurance portals and people being able to type of their reports and everything, I looked up the results a mere six hours later. And I knew I could do this, because when I did other lab work at my last doctor's appointment, the results were posted hours later as well. The doctor's office will probably call again tomorrow, but for the most part, I'm reading good news that will make Hawaii even better, as long as everything cooperates.
(I'm going to have to look into getting a different podiatrist, though, since he is clearly not as technologically advanced as these other offices. That being said, there should be a medium sized boot with my name on it in his office within the next day or so. I kind of wish he had posted my x-rays online, so that I could show everyone the alleged extra bone in my foot!)
*Also, do yourself a favor and do not Google hemorrhagic ovarian cyst images. Seriously. Don't.
You should not read further, if you don't want to know.
----------------------------------------------------------
I called the doctor yesterday because I wanted to be reassured that everything would be "in order" for me to go to Hawaii in 11 days. There are a few things that need to be cleared up, and it better happen or I'm going to be ticked.
The phone call resulted in an appointment scheduled today, and after dropping my dear Bronwyn off at the airport, that meant that I clocked in for one hour before medical stuff got in the way of the rest of my day. Because at my appointment, the doctor decided that I should probably have an ultrasound just in case. So I had to phone the office and tell them that instead of coming back, I had to go to the hospital.
I had my first set of ultrasounds when I was about 13 years old. The doctor did an internal ultrasound, and in my head up until last year when I had my second one, I remembered the wand being the size of a cucumber. It's not. I also remember going to do the regular ultrasound, with my poor father in tow, with two liters of water practically leaking out of my bladder as the technician pushed and plunged and dug around to get the images, making me hurt and so uncomfortable I wanted to cry. (And also, my DAD was there while I, a 13-year old girl, was having her uterus and ovaries examined. Traum.a.tizing. Just saying.)
Anyway, I guess with age comes a little less fear of the unknown, and a little less of the unknown, since I've been through this all before. I didn't try to drink SO much water, so I wasn't dying, and it really wasn't all that bad. Although, the tech probably thought I was a little crazy since I was insisting that the whole appointment would be a lot more fun if there were a baby to look at. Or that I was looking forward to the hemorrhagic cyst that could potentially burst at any moment.... And even though I didn't say it, I was thinking it... haha. Never mind. I can't even put it on my blog.
But the very best part, is that with online insurance portals and people being able to type of their reports and everything, I looked up the results a mere six hours later. And I knew I could do this, because when I did other lab work at my last doctor's appointment, the results were posted hours later as well. The doctor's office will probably call again tomorrow, but for the most part, I'm reading good news that will make Hawaii even better, as long as everything cooperates.
(I'm going to have to look into getting a different podiatrist, though, since he is clearly not as technologically advanced as these other offices. That being said, there should be a medium sized boot with my name on it in his office within the next day or so. I kind of wish he had posted my x-rays online, so that I could show everyone the alleged extra bone in my foot!)
*Also, do yourself a favor and do not Google hemorrhagic ovarian cyst images. Seriously. Don't.
September 10, 2012
Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)
Mindy Kaling has a book called Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns). I've read it. She's funny. But the title is honestly my favorite part, because I feel like it should/would be the title of my own autobiography.The thing is, I have this problem. I'm a fairly jealous friend. I think part of it stems from my elementary school days, where I spent 95% of my time with one friend, and then in the 6th grade, I began to be edged out. It was fairly traumatizing, even though I feel like I tried to save face for many, many years after that. I remember having a conversation with her, where I put myself out on the line and told her that she was my very best friend.
She told me that I was not hers. Her best friend happened to be a cousin. Which was totally fine, but it still hurt. But that has set a sort of pattern in my life, where I think I've developed this really close relationship with someone, and then it turns out that I'm the lowest possible thing on their priority list, even though they are the highest on mine.
When my elementary school best friend started introducing new people into her social circle, they were other girls that I had little in common with. And since my best friend knew that, she used that as an excuse to stop inviting me to things. "I knew you wouldn't like [this activity]/[this person] so I knew you wouldn't want to come."
I spent most of junior high and high school with a couple of close friends, but largely felt that I didn't need to worry about friends at all because I was busy doing everything I could to get into BYU. I knew I would make friends in Provo, so what did I need large groups of friends in Troy, Ohio, for anyway? I think it was largely a coping mechanism; an excuse for spending my weekend nights babysitting instead of partying.
Still, there were the few times when I did go to a party or in a group of people and realized that most of these kids didn't know who I really was. They didn't care that I was there. And they wouldn't care if I weren't. I didn't like that feeling.
It took me years in Provo to finally make an actual GROUP of friends. People that I hung out with on a regular basis. People that wanted me to attend their group activities, seemed genuinely sad when I couldn't make it because of work or other obligations. People who loved me as I was and not who they expected me to be.
But then, as tends to happen in this stage of life, they started getting married, going to grad school, and moving around the globe. So I started picking up the pieces and finding a new group of friends. And for the most part, I feel like I have succeeded in making a group of friends that know me, and love me despite my flaws. But on occasion, and within a certain sector of this group of friends, there's that old feeling that for the most part, they could take me or leave me; and a lot of the times, they do. Leave me, I mean.
In my mind, I would rather not be included at all, then feel like each invite is some sort of charity thing or place filler. If I'm not wanted, then, I don't want to be there. I don't feel like that is a completely irrational thing. But I also don't want to hear about all the fun times I'm missing out on. It's not like you have this friend in Salt Lake that you hang out with, and then come back and tell me what you did. It's like, you have a group of what, I thought, were mutual friends, and you hang out and come back and talk about everything as if I were there, or should have been there, when I had no idea anything was going on in the first place.
I can only beg to be invited to certain activities for so long, before my pride gets in the way.
But it's fine. Because in a few more months, people will have left because they've graduated, or because they are getting married, or whatever. Because that is life in Provo. And I'll start searching for a new group of people to be friends with.
September 6, 2012
Underpaid
Oh dear.I've just come back from a Relief Society activity where the first counselor of our bishopric gave a little presentation on money. You know, the standard, don't spend more than you make, put some away in savings, and for. the. love. get out of debt.
It was a good presentation, even if I have heard all of this before. Which only proved Brother Christensen's first point, that spending habits are a behavioral problem, and not an ignorance/knowledge problem. (Unless you're a Democrat? Just kidding. That's behavioral too. Ha. I'm kidding.)
Anyway, the above chart happened to be in his presentation and the data was from 2007, so I decided to look up more recent figures -- you know, ones that include recession numbers and such -- and I found that they are fairly comparable.
The thing not comparable? My own salary.
Not that I didn't know that, of course. I'd like to see....(pause while I Google this...) what the national average vs. state numbers are because I really believe that one of the reasons Utah's economy works so well, is because we don't pay our educated masses all that much. It's like outsourcing, only, with qualified people. (Two things: I didn't find a chart when I Googled. Maybe I should have Binged. But that doesn't have the same ring to it. And also, if you want to see what I'm talking about, just look at some of the job ads that they stuff like "Master's Degree preferred, but are only offering $30,000/year wages.)
Anyway, I'm making -- and this is before taxes -- the same as what this chart says someone with a high school diploma makes. Not even what a person with "some college" makes. Which is sort of depressing. But maybe they aren't taking into account the people that may have graduated but aren't working in their field. Or something.
Either way, it's pretty clear that I'm not working in a field where my education has paid. So... I know what that means I need to do. But I also don't know how to go about doing it. My first thought was that I should probably email this chart to my boss. Or, all the bosses in Utah.
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