26 May 2007
Before I go further, I want to acknowledge that this is my 401st post here in the Lettuce. Who would have thought?
It's 2am and I'm awake. At just after 8pm tonight I will be on a plane headed for Manchester where Simon and his sister will be waiting to pick me up tomorrow morning. I should be asleep, but then I also should have packed my bags, cleaned the house, and had the dogs semi-ready to go stay with Krista several days ago.
Load songs on iPod. Finish packing "non-clothing" checked luggage. Snuggle with Daisy. Dash by grocery in the morning for last minute doggie food. Dash back by grocery on the way to the airport for last minute things I could very well be packing right now.
It's all so surreal...
25 May 2007
Me: I'm sorry, I missed that.
Irritating Self Important Co-Worker: I was talking to HER.
Me: I know that, and I can't interpret what you said to her if I didn't HEAR it. What did you say?
Irritating Self Important Co-Worker: (rolls eyes) Right.
She then repeated herself. GAH! Y'all, it's not a complicated thing. Person A is deaf, Person B is not. Does Person B REALLY think that Person A is just going to magically be able to HEAR because Person B has something to say?
Tick tock, tick tock, y'all. 2 hours more and my vicarious trauma ends...at least here in Alabama, right? I'm still an interpreter after all...
23 May 2007
Don't stare me down in the hallway. What you might have heard in my voice was not my message. Those weren't my words. I have no use for the daggers that you hurl at the back of my head with your eyes when you think I'm not looking, the head waggling and giggling with your co-workers when I walk down your hall, nor do I have use for the curt tone when I interpret for you.
And yeah, I said for you, because as I stated before I'm not even sure that you have a firm grasp on the English language, so I'm positive you can't sign.
Don't tell me that you didn't lose your temper when I clearly heard you yell. I'm one of three people on this ward that can hear, so trying to split me on that issue doesn't work so well. However, if you keep up that volume much longer you may have your way.
Screaming in my ear does not make me understand you better. If it doesn't work for the deaf staff I'm pretty sure it won't work for me.
Looking smug when you are able to "translate" a document written in Deaf English doesn't make you look anything but stupid when you still "translate" it wrong.
And for the gazillionth time, snapping your fingers at me to get my attention is not going to be any more effective for me than it would be for a dog, which must be what you think of me. I have a name, ya know? It's on the huge nametag on my chest.
And further, to the Finger Snapper, if you see that I'm involved in doing something with a patient it is NOT the right time to demand that I help you find a staff person. Ever heard of "patients come first?"
Ugh. And yet, the thought that in two days I'll walk out of here for the last time and not see some of my co-workers again fills my eyes with tears if I dwell too long...
This, gentle readers, is what happens when Nancy is forced to wander through a MALL while waiting for the oil to be changed and the new windshield wipers to be installed on her Honda. This howling mass of orange and fuschia and yellow. This tangerine colored shirt that can only be described as possibly having its own power source or "something that can double as a night light." Even Daisy is simultaneously shocked and awed by Mommy's getup, and can only stand by, gazing in cornea-ripping horror at the sheer Bright-Ness of my clothing.
Yeah, I've got NO room to comment on MCD's Lelli Kellys now. None.What.So.Ever.
Did I mention the skirt is twirly? It's twirly. Very. I'm off now to see what happened to the REAL me.
17 May 2007
A 10 month old baby from Chicago is granted a gun permit after grandfather gave him a shotgun as a gift.Linky courtesy of the BBC.
This Message was undeliverable due to the following reason:Yeah, I know, I probably just opened my self up to a flood of either abuse or virus laden email. Thank God for my sardonic wit and Norton Anti-Virus.
Each of the following recipients was rejected by a remote mail server.
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--- Forwarded Message ---
> Do not ignorbeb me please,
> I found your email somewhere and now deacided to write you.
> I am coming to yoaur place in few weeks andb thought we
> can meet each other. Leat me know if you do not mind.
> I am a nice pretty girl. Don'at reply to this email.
> Emabil me direclty at qqcei@SpringMailSite.info
Date: [Thu, 17 May 2007 10:31:16 -0500]
From: Nancy A. Lassiter
Subject: Re: Would like to chat with. you
Hi there, Cora!
Unfortunately I can't meet you until you learn how to spell, work on your
grammar, and stop emailing people that you don't know just to earn some money
off someone or try to plant a virus in someone else's computer.
Have a nice day.
Nancy A. Lassiter, BA, CI/CT
"Forecast for tomorrow; a few sprinkles of genius with a chance of doom!"
15 May 2007
While out mailing a package and grabbing lunch I was listening to a local (?) call in show on one of the Montgomery NPR affiliates. The topic today was something to do with Iran or Iraq or the war or politics or...sometimes hard to tell with that show. Anyhow...I missed the first topic because they'd already started talking before I cranked the car, but I did hear them say that twin suicide bombers had driven cars into a building...and that it looked like the building in Oklahoma City. I got to the post office, went in, mailed my package and when I got back to the radio they were discussing a stand off of some sort that I think was related to the bombing. What struck me, though, was the report of an American soldier who was quoted as saying that if the insurgents got to him he'd take his own life before he'd be captured and beheaded on video for his wife to see on the internet.
Holy SMACK y'all. We thought that the psychological toll on our proud US soldiers was bad after Vietnam? I just hope that when this "war" is finally in the history books and as many of these brave men and women as can come home that some of the money that was being used to blow our fellow man to kingdom come will be spent to make sure the survivors have therapy. I mean seriously, can you imagine being faced with that choice? They are braver than I am, for sure.
Shortly after the 11 September 2001 attacks, he said that gays, atheists, civil-rights activists and legal abortions in the US had angered God and "helped this happen".Once I got back to the office and had a chance to check out today's headlines I found that Jerry Falwell had died. Again, I'm reminded of my age by this because Falwell is someone who has always been around, someone who was always making one contraversial remark or another and then quickly hiding behind the wall of conservative Christianity before the mud started a'slinging. It's just strange to think that the next state that makes it NOT illegal for two people who love each other and want a life together to be able to be married regardless of their gender WON'T have Jerry Falwell somewhere declaring them all sinners. I hope that when he arrives at whatever afterlife is afforded him that it will be what he's so clearly worked for on earth, and that his family and friends are comforted in their time of loss. Maybe now he can know if he was as right as he thought he was.
"Obituary-Jerry Falwell" courtesy BBC News
And filed under Oh My LORD, we have the story of a cyclist in Madison, WI that was run over by a TRUCK and lived to tell the tale! Apparently Ryan Lipscomb was riding down a road approaching an intersection, saw a truck turning to the right in front of him, hit his brakes, flipped over the front of his bike and landed in the middle of the intersection. The driver then RAN OVER HIS HEAD and kept going. Check out the link above...I'm not sure if that's the one where I saw the picture of his helment or not but it's quite mangled...and his head is not.
The childish part of me wants to point out that stories like that are exactly why I think that ALL states should have helment laws for riding any kind of cycle, be it BI or MOTOR...even though I know that not all agree.
Man. Must be Tuesday.
14 May 2007
I am now able to say out loud that I am leaving Alabama next month and moving back to South Carolina. The main reason is so that I can be closer to my family, but I don't think anyone that works with me here will disagree that this just isn't the best fit for me job wise...or life wise, really. It's so trite but I didn't realise what deep friendships I had in SC until I left them.
Last weekend I headed up to NC by way of my vet's office in SC for a Hunky check up. I was terrified that the lump on his gum was going to cause the vet to start screaming things like they do on television medical dramas when someone has to go directly into surgery and is at risk to die if they don't have a good enough agent to become a regular character. Nothing of the sort. When H and J go for dental work in July he will take a bit of it and test it for any kind of nasties but doesn't expect to find any. I am thankful that my Handsome Fella will be with me a bit longer at least.
As I rounded the "corner" on I-85 near the highway 25/White Horse Road exit in Greenville, my eyes filled with tears. I hadn't been there since October and the feeling that I was coming back home was overwhelming. I stopped by and saw Tressy, dear friend and former/soon to be coworker, and it was like I'd never left.
Best part? A trip to see my parents will take just under 2 hours, rather than the 4.5-5 hours that it currently takes.
I leave for the UK on the 26th of this month and I'm just plain nervous. I'll be meeting Simon's family and spending two weeks there without the dogs to distract me or keep me busy...I just hope that he is still speaking to me afterward!
My divorce will be final on 6 June and once I get back from the UK the first thing I'll do is get my name back. Nancy E. Allen, resident of Greenville, SC, is on the horizon and I'm so happy!
I bet I get hit by a truck.
The I Can't Even face. Y'all. How is it that things can go from zero to one hundred so fast when I'm not anywhere near where...
Granted, I have already published all of those books in the Proud Racer and Clobberpaws series about my dogs, but this little baby here is...
#nofilter #goodhairday Yep, that hashtag in the title means what you think it means. But that's not what I want to talk about today....