On having curly hair:
I firmly believe that when you've got a full head of curly, Mexican hair, hair salons are a total scam. No, I do not want golden highlights. No, I do not want short layers. No, I do not want a style that needs to be straightened to look its very best and while I appreciate that you took all of this time to blow it out and straighten it, it's never going to look like this again. It's like the episode of Sex and the City based on The Way We Were:
Miranda: "Robert Redford is madly in love with Barbara Streisand, but he can't be with her because she's too complicated and she has wild, curly hair. So he leaves her and marries this simple girl with straight hair."
Carrie: "Ladies, I am having an epiphany. The world is made up of two types of women: the simple girls and the Katie girls."
I am a curly girl. And a Katy girl. And I am desperately seeking a great (maybe Middle Eastern?) hair salon in the Houston area.
On crying in the supply room at work:
I'm a little over a month from being 25 and I'm finally finding my stride as an RN. I'm getting a lot of experience orienting new RNs to the adult and pediatric sides of our floor. I'm comfortable taking on six patients. I'm fine with blood draws and IVs and NG tubes and straight caths and all kinds of other unpleasant procedures on tiny little people. I can handle parents and family members who are upset. But sometimes, I'm still overwhelmed and frustrated. And every once in a while, I cry in the supply room for a couple minutes until I can regain my footing. I'm learning a lot. I'm teaching a lot. I might be ready to move into a new job sooner than I expected, but this has been a positive experience overall.
On being a single girl with a boyfriend:
I am certain that my dad has been my biggest fan since the first moment he laid eyes on me. When I am lonely and depressed and homesick, he always tells me, "You are living on your own, far from home. Not everyone can do what you're doing." I miss Phoenix. And I miss California. And I miss lunch dates and happy hours and favorite restaurants. I'm still not ready to go to the movies alone and I don't like only seeing my boyfriend a few days a month. I am so happy that I have a sweet, little (sometimes tick-infested) dog who is always happy to see me and never lets me sleep alone.
Showing posts with label houston. Show all posts
Showing posts with label houston. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Friday, May 25, 2012
Restorative Yoga Made Me Cry
After my round of Power Yoga yesterday, I couldn't help but roll my eyes at Restorative Yoga. It was the only class that I could make it to today.
The instructor said that we were going to hold poses for five to ten minutes and that it would cleanse our internal organs and allow our nervous system to switch from sympathetic to parasympathetic. I mean, I'm granola, but I'm not that granola. Anyway, I was already there and ready to get a good stretch on.
We laid in cobbler's pose and I could feel my right shoulder relaxing. It cramps up if I work more than two shifts in a row. She was talking about the half-awake state you find yourself in at 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning, laying next to a pet or a loved one. And in the middle of yoga, at my way-too-fancy gym, I started crying. Like a loser. Because I moved to Texas by myself and I am so homesick, not knowing where home is at this point.
I didn't like my job in Phoenix. But I liked my life. I loved my neighborhood. I loved being able to walk to Beckett's Table or LGO or Pita Jungle with Russell. I liked having a membership to the Desert Botanical Garden. I liked being a ten minute drive from the airport. I liked tubing the river in June and monsoon season and cooking with my boy in our tiny kitchen.
I liked having a place in which I belonged, even if it wasn't quite home.
And now, it's just me. And Vegas. And a tiny apartment that feels too big and no friends to call for brunch and a job that pays the bills but isn't quite what I expected it to be. I don't hate it, but I don't particularly like it, either. There's too much chaos and not enough babies and I'm so busy that I don't have time to think, which is important when lives are on the line. I'm learning how to juggle and appease but not how to think clearly. I'm often frustrated and annoyed and I can already feel myself not caring about these people. This isn't why I became a nurse and it isn't the type of nurse that I want to be.
I'm here for a little while, until the idea of packing up and moving again doesn't seem so insane. Until I can finish a few more certifications and get a few more months at this job. Until Russell finds a job somewhere that can be a home for both of us.
The instructor said that we were going to hold poses for five to ten minutes and that it would cleanse our internal organs and allow our nervous system to switch from sympathetic to parasympathetic. I mean, I'm granola, but I'm not that granola. Anyway, I was already there and ready to get a good stretch on.
We laid in cobbler's pose and I could feel my right shoulder relaxing. It cramps up if I work more than two shifts in a row. She was talking about the half-awake state you find yourself in at 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning, laying next to a pet or a loved one. And in the middle of yoga, at my way-too-fancy gym, I started crying. Like a loser. Because I moved to Texas by myself and I am so homesick, not knowing where home is at this point.
I didn't like my job in Phoenix. But I liked my life. I loved my neighborhood. I loved being able to walk to Beckett's Table or LGO or Pita Jungle with Russell. I liked having a membership to the Desert Botanical Garden. I liked being a ten minute drive from the airport. I liked tubing the river in June and monsoon season and cooking with my boy in our tiny kitchen.
I liked having a place in which I belonged, even if it wasn't quite home.
And now, it's just me. And Vegas. And a tiny apartment that feels too big and no friends to call for brunch and a job that pays the bills but isn't quite what I expected it to be. I don't hate it, but I don't particularly like it, either. There's too much chaos and not enough babies and I'm so busy that I don't have time to think, which is important when lives are on the line. I'm learning how to juggle and appease but not how to think clearly. I'm often frustrated and annoyed and I can already feel myself not caring about these people. This isn't why I became a nurse and it isn't the type of nurse that I want to be.
I'm here for a little while, until the idea of packing up and moving again doesn't seem so insane. Until I can finish a few more certifications and get a few more months at this job. Until Russell finds a job somewhere that can be a home for both of us.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
