Ew! Ew! EW! GeT iT oFf!!!

If you've had the pleasure of reading my blogs for awhile-which let's be honest, this blog isn't popular enough to have many followers. For example, my mother (also known as "your biggest fan" and "delusional woman with four year olds the size of twenty year olds"), doesn't read my blog. BUT if you have you know Molly, my elderly cat, has accidents around my apartment from time to time.
Every once in awhile, like a minute ago, I will be on the go doing some house hold task like picking up dirty dishes from the living room or other various areas that Kyle and I end up studying and bringing them to the sink where they can be further neglected for another week- When suddenly I will step on something unusually squishy.
At this point my body freezes and my mind screams, "Ew, Ew, EW! GeT iT oFf!!!" Automatically assuming of course that I have a giant pile of poo on my foot. Thankfully this usually turns out to be a bundled up sock that escaped the laundry bin; other times it turns out to be the edge of a slipper or a plushy toy mouse.
But sometimes...like now, it's a genuine turd.

Breath In-Breath Out

Back from "vacationing" in Washington and Oregon. I told Kyle how morbid it is to be that we have only spent twenty eight days total the past two years HOME. Can you believe how many students leave out of state for college every year? Brave is all they are! How many human beings spend the majority of their year away from family, friends, and their favorite things, all left behind for education?
This had all better be worth it someday! (OK I know it will be)
The oddest feeling overwhelms me whenever I go home, it's like I've been holding my breath all year and suddenly..no matter what plans I've made for the holiday turn sour-everything is going to be alright for once.
No one is going to say my clothes are weird.-they've seen better and worse!
No one is going to make a face at me when I remind them I am a vegetarian.-they take me grocery shopping to make sure I feel at home and am well fed!
No one is going to miss my party-because everyone in the room LOVES me.
Yes once a year everyone in the room loves me. They would give me a kidney, they would let me cry on their shoulder, they would pick me up from the mall if my car died.
I am so grateful for my family and friends! I miss them so much already-I miss fitting in already.
School starts tomorrow and maybe I will meet another Erin Paulson or another Nickala Squire.
But if I don't I will know deep down that I do fit in somewhere, and that I am loved, and that in the grand scheme of things I am ok.

The Intruding Angel

Rewarding and yet disgusting at the same time: my job description.

I leave feeling dirty and self-repulsed some days, 

Proud and honored the next.

Many people tell me they couldn't do what I do regularly..

If they found themselves spraying off a urine soaked wheelchair pad or listening to Edna inquire about the date, for the third time in an hour...to put it delicately... they would be either puking or pulling their hair out.

But I do this daily. 

I am the one left to wipe your mother's ass- because you are grossed out by her incontinence.

I am also the one who explains to her over and over why she can't call you when she is scared and lonely.

When tucking her into bed at night, saying a soft prayer for her slumber, she recognizes not my face, but yours. She smiles holding my hand and tells me how much she has missed me and how very proud she is of me.

Missed you-proud of you. Well I'm not. 

Might it surprise you to know that this is the part of my job I take pride in? The parts I honor and am honored  for. 

On the other hand they don't want me- they want you, mom, sister, husband, child...

Their Alzheimer's, car crashes, epilepsy, cancer, paralysis, and handicaps took away the things they could handle. And the one thing they needed was you. Where are you?

Don't make excuses like, "They don't even recognize me anymore." They do, it's in their eyes.

"She is too hard to look at." So are you.

"He was a horrible father...why should I give him the time of day?" We are all human, he did the best he could with what he was given!

Other days I feel repulsed and awful-a true intruder, a violator.

After a straight week of refusing his shower he is dripping with sweat, dried urine, and old food fragments.

He is going to take a shower tonight...he is 'ok' until it's time to wash his intimate areas.

You offer him the wash rag and he says he can't...he needs you to do it.

Like you have done one hundred times before, with him and tons of others over the years.

He still doesn't want you to do it, but it has to be done. He can't afford another yeast infection...another rash.

You wash him and all the time he is looking at you like you raped him. Like you want to hurt him...

A few tears streak down his face and you are as gentle as possible, but it doesn't help you know how violated he must feel.

I don't blame them, I would react the same if not worse. 

I walk to my car and bawl on my lunch break. Disgusting.
He has seen me everyday for two years and I am still a stranger every hour.

Dear God, please let them forgive me- forgive the world.

Word-....Vomit?-Puke?-Ralph?-Upchuck?-Throw-Up?-Regurgitation?-Abomination?...

I think
I have a duplicate somewhere, sharing things I never would share and caring for people who never did care.

Or maybe they cared once, but forgot in over time, like a wound drenched with lime..like a charred unsolved crime. And I pray everyday that my clone, just a drone of a clone, goes away.
                                   That she looses herself, like a book on a shelf- in a house without help.
But I know very well she won't settle, won't swell, she won't leave I believe, she is here to receive- love that's owed by the toad of a man that she loathes. So unknown by the ones long ago.
For once he too was a child- just a boy, no direction, no ploy.
No means to be coy, no dreams to deploy, no hurt to instill, and no woman to thrill. And once he used to pray-to pray not to be gay, for the bible that lay on his table at bay- just screamed at the gay to end sin and delay their unsavory gay!
...So the boy-now a man, came up with his plan to marry my drone of a clone. Once an original clone, a human girl clone...a girl named "Me".
And now I am here trying to decipher this awfulness-this nasty awfulness, sitting in my white dress wishing Me would hear my call of distress, and agree with no rest, that for sure he had blessed us with treacherous zest- of woman married at best, to a gay-without say, without knowledge or pay.
I'm a conundrum today wouldn't you say?
Touche.

Lazy Eye

Took my second nutrition exam today...after the fact I realized I got answers wrong because I neglected to recheck or reread a question/answer and got questions I knew the right answer to...wrong. It's only October and my motivation is dwindling to nothing for biology...I am studying again tonight for it but the more I study it the more confused and lazy I become. blahhhhh

Honorable Service?

What does it mean to have honorably served our country? I'm not being sarcastic, I really wanna know! I met a guy today in the Inkwell club and he was going on about PTSD and counseling and being scared of finding out whom he really is and if he can handle himself. He mentioned soldiers commiting suicide and his disabilities or injuries and recounted a few stories about children with guns and grenades...but that he wouldn't take away a minute of it. He voluntarily enlisted and would do it again. He was so proud!
Am I missing something? Last time I checked suicide, ptsd, and being chased through the sand by a 7 yr old with an AK-47 didn't sound like the poster child of a good time. So yeah I need to hear that missing piece, I need to hear what about all of that made you feel worthy of pride and honor. Where was the good? What did you do for our country? Better yet what did you do for their country? Simply following orders? Avenging the death of those murdered on 9/11 by murdering others?
I don't get it...
I called my friend Ashley, she went to West Point and she told me the most worthwhile moment was when her team sheltered a group of small Afghanistanian children to their school, because the route was riddled with bullets... I thought, "Hey that's pretty amazing, you gave those children an opportunity to education in an area where the walk was the hardest part of getting the grade."

So solders, when you speak of your service, why don't you enlighten us citizens of what you are proud of. Because from where I'm standing, war just sounds like families losing families. But that can't be true.

Sigh of Relief

My nutrition teacher, whom also happens to be Nickala's mom..small world, assigned us a 10 day nutrition journal. A tool to help students learn about their specific diet and what changes cold be made about our diets using the info she teaches in our class. I think the most relieving thing about this strange family connection/coincidence, is that I now know a little more about my teacher's lifestyle and that she probably won't be as judgmental about my vegetarian lifestyle as I had originally feared.
Not that Mrs.Moody seemed judgmental...actually she is very kind and humorous and empathetic. But the Midwest is a different culture, as I have mentioned before, and I was really worried some of my instructors would be weary if they discovered through various assignments or discussions that I am relatively an oddball here in MN/ND.
But my teacher has visited the Amazon! ...and her daughter is alot like me. So...maybe this journal won't be so nerve racking after all. :)