Monday, October 31, 2005

battle cry

RAAAAAAAAAAA!

day one. done.

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Sunday, October 30, 2005

also gross

a trip to walgreen's is always just a slice of life for me.

inside the drugstore today i experienced and witnessed tiny little old ladies having accidental reunions, tiny little old ladies running the checkout lines, carabiner flashlights, an intense internal debate on which #2 pencils to buy for my upcoming exam (settled on the mirado black warriors; hopefullly i won't regret that because they're a little too smooth for filling in circles), and teenage boys looking down each aisle for something to do (at walgreen's?).

all that aside, this time it was the parking lot that held today's noteworthy item: a pair of sweatpants with a college name emblazoned across the butt.

i get riled up about this. how can women complain about being objectified by men when they wear pants like these? it's ridiculous for a girl to walk around in, say, juicy brand sweatpants, and expect guys not to stare at her caboose, read the word, and think, "juicy."

bah, i said to myself. then the real kicker.

the wearer of these sweatpants was some white-haired dude. looked to be in his late fifties.

now THAT just ain't right.

3 Comments:

Blogger Joshua said...

I'm thinking the women who complain about being objectified and the women who wear t-shirts that say things like "skank" right across their chest might be different groups of women, but I could be wrong about that.

The fact that you went off about this and it turns out to be some old guy wearing the pants cracks me up. Did they give you cause to objectify him?

I never had that much fun at Walgreen's, myself.

10/31/2005 12:12:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

oh, it isn't fun prima facie. it's all in how you look at it. the things you see can be very depressing, or bizarre, or, as it is for me, funny.

for some reason walgreen's is a venue where all of life's little quirky situations are exaggerated, and i can't help but look around as though through a documentary camera lens. maybe it's because i work in health care, and seeing all the bogus and wacko health treatments and ridiculous products amuses me. maybe it's the abundance of variety of the products (do you know how many kinds of lip balm they have to choose from?) in pretty colors all in a row. or maybe it's because i only go when i need something, or when i'm sick or bored or depressed.

or... it could be the candy section. caaaaaaaannnnnnnndyyyyyyy! just kidding.

the old dude? i could not objectify him. my eyes were too violated (and i myself was too shocked and appalled when i realized i had just been forced to notice an old guy's butt) for me to be able to see straight for a couple seconds. instead i tried to label him. he's either the clueless fuddy-duddy parent of a college student, homosexual, or so inobservant he didn't realize he put on his daughter's sweatpants that day.

10/31/2005 05:04:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

or maybe, just maybe he had a big blonde wig and some fake boobs in his car and it was all part of his halloween costume.

10/31/2005 05:13:00 PM

 

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Saturday, October 29, 2005

gross

maybe it's the time of year, for it really was like a scene set up for halloween.

i walked down the stairs of my empty apartment and turned into the kitchen. there i stopped dead in my tracks. something wasn't right. i scanned the room. the refrigerator hummed contentedly. the drip, drip, drip of the faucet was the only other sound to be heard. i started over to tighten the fixture but then, out of the corner of my left eye, i saw a small, dark flicker of movement.

no. my heart slithered downward into my stomach, and my stomach clenched around it. i took a deep breath and turned to focus my eyes on the moving thing.

upon a single slat of the vertical blinds crouched a tiny figure, black and imposing. the shadows of his minions moved about in a loathsome dance behind him, shrouding him in a most disturbing grey aura.

i wanted to scream, but i could not.

cockroaches. one had found its way in. the others crawled about on the other side of the glass door, waiting to invade.

bum BUM BUM!
(insert climactic tremolo chord here)

i am now preparing for battle.

update: the sun has set, cloaking the army outside my door in darkness. inside, however, the kitchen is immaculate, and i have blasted their leader with potent neurotoxin. as he dies, legs flailing about in the air, i wonder—what will their response be? i cannot know. as the hum of the enemy platoon crescendoes in my ears, i wait, rubber gloves and bug spray in hand.

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near-miss

i was almost on tv last night.

the unit secretary said to me, “i need to ask you something.” we don’t talk like that around here unless it’s personal, so i was a little worried about what he had to say.

“i’ve got media relations on the phone. did you hear about that kid who dropped dead at school? the news wants a doctor to comment about her condition. it was a heart thing. just to tell the public about it. i asked dr. k and dr. s. they told me to ask you. dr. s said, ‘she’s smart as a whip, and she’s got the face and the look for it.’”

WHAT?

fuss fuss fuss! no time for attempts to re-establish humility! hi, nurse r, i don’t know, dude, but thanks for the compliment. hi, other nurse r, i’m not sure, but thanks too. nurse m, you’re so sweet to say so, i’m not so sure if i’m excited....

no time for explanations; media relations is on the phone. you want me to do what? don’t you want a cardiologist? i am not familiar with this patient. i see. well, i could try, if it would help people in general. okay. oh, she wasn’t a patient here. oh, she never made it to a hospital. i see. what did the autopsy show? uh-huh. oh. you don't know if that's even the right word? why don’t you spell it for me? okay it's probably close, but it’s not a diagnosis, that’s just a finding. it’s not specific enough for me to be able to make any comments that would be informative to anyone. right. sorry! let me know if they make a diagnosis.

hey dr. s. what the heck, dude— me? you’re disappointed? hi nurse m. you’re disappointed too?

i guess i’m a little disappointed now that they mention it. but i’m mostly relieved. i really really could have made a big fool out of myself.

2 Comments:

Blogger Dean said...

The Aging Service Project is conducting academic research for the purpose of improving services to the elderly.

www.medio.us

The Institute of Medicine (IOM) has made a call to action in Crossing the Quality Chasm. This project aims to show one way we can take a step with integrated continuing care for the aging.

The project can use your help. The results are confidential and the report will be published at the site.

10/29/2005 09:31:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

BOOOOOOO! SPLOGGER! BOOOOOOO!

my academic and realistic practice of medicine is already on the other side of the quality chasm, buddy. i am quality! i am an embodiment of quality! i have been literally the posterchild for quality in health care! i work with that stuff first hand with the people who need it most!

take your m. h. stinkin' a. and your m. b. freakin' a. and stick 'em where the sun don't shine! the last thing we need is people who pretend to know about what real health care is about because "we studied it in school" telling us how to do our jobs better and calling themselves "healthcare workers." when you have slaved away at all hours of the day and night for over eighty hours a week for ungrateful people for a few years then you might have some room to talk.

yes. i could have simply removed his comment. but i wasted my one token on being gracious to advertisors on sam freedom, and there's no reason to be hospitable in camobunny's corner. i wanna make an example of dean. and i'm going to erase anything more he may add. DOWN WITH SPLOGGERS!

and I AM NOT A NURSE!

10/30/2005 01:09:00 AM

 

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Friday, October 28, 2005

you know what is not cool?

all-out man-bashing. most women who man-bash spend too much time complaining about situations and not enough time doing worthwhile things to make those situations better.

what is also not cool is the "girl power" movement. i mean, please. it does nothing to create respect for our gender to take little flowers and ruffles and bows or cutesy cartoon characters and pretend that they're powerful or cool. there is no power in declaring that you have power. when you're truly powerful, you don't need to tell people for them to know.

oh! and women with fake squeaky voices! they sound like they deserve to be squished! ugh! (shudder)

lastly for today, what is not cool is freakin' "grey's anatomy." usually dumba** medical shows earn simple disdain from me, but this one seems so stupid it makes me want to hurt things. i think i may actually hate it. i got your real-life medical professional soap opera drama right here, baby. and sandra oh is not an attractive asian woman, i don't care what you asian fetishists say.

2 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

are you "p"ing on my blog?

i have now had all potty functions applied to my blogs, from the eschemo survivor passing gas here at the prickly pineapple, to all activities of the poop group, to my own personal blogorrhea.

i welcome your wonderful witty words. but can i say that i really don't want to hear any more from sam freedom?

10/29/2005 03:50:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

indeed. i cannot decide whether or not to report him to the blogger authorities. he could get booted. he has stopped by again, read my comment, and left w/o saying anything.

2 things i wanted to say but thought they'd be misconstrued, and maybe rude. 1) when a telemarketer calls you at home and is all friendly, could you really ever believe they just wanna chat? 2) i would think that "the coolest guy on the planet" wouldn't lose his temper so easily.

3) whiny crybaby!

fine, 3 things. there, i said it! couldn't keep it in anymore.

i like this word verification: jouog.

10/29/2005 09:33:00 AM

 

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Thursday, October 27, 2005

question

"are you seeing anyone?"

i looked up, startled, uncapped needle and syringe in my hand. i didn't expect that at all. his blue eyes looked into mine with an intensity that could only have been put there by hope. the wrinkles around them twitched ever so slightly.

why would he be asking me that? with all my might i struggled to keep that question mark from actually becoming visible above my head. then the words came to me.

"you mean, patient-wise?"
"yes."
"i'm about to sedate someone for a debridement, yes."
"okay. thanks."

see, i was already busy. just because it was time for dr. m to leave didn't mean i'd drop everything to take over his workload.

6 Comments:

Blogger KiltedJedi said...

how little he knows the camobunny. never ask a dangerous question when she is armed and potentially fatal.

KJ

10/27/2005 02:22:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

oh please tell me the twist in the plot is obvious.

10/27/2005 08:45:00 PM

 
Blogger Ray said...

i was hoping there wouldn't be a twist at all so, instead, there could be a conclusion about how stupid and sleazy all men are, not just the mildly inconsiderate display of one tired doctor.

those are my favorite.

10/28/2005 05:03:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

nope. despite your preconceived notions about me, i don't do that. but if you would like to speak in absolute overgeneralizations about how all men are stupid and sleazy, be my guest.

10/28/2005 09:19:00 AM

 
Blogger Ray said...

they aren't preconceived, they're ... post-conceived?

10/28/2005 11:42:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

ah. so. in that case i shall amend my statement.

nope. despite your incorrect notions about me, i don't do that. but if you would like to demonstrate how stupid and sleazy men can be, you may— just please do it elsewhere.

10/28/2005 03:27:00 PM

 

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Wednesday, October 26, 2005

apropos to nothing

but funny nonetheless.

though we adore men individually
we agree that as a group they're rather stupid


winnifred banks, in mary poppins

3 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

you have to hear it in her accent ending with those chromatic steps downward: rah-ther styoo-pid...

10/26/2005 12:52:00 PM

 
Blogger Ray said...

Ah but dearest camobunny,

"Whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest motives."

Oscar Wilde from one of my favorites, from The Picture of Dorian Gray

So could we get an A for effort maybe?

10/26/2005 11:34:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

well, you've got our individual adoration. i think that suffices.

there's that absolute again, "always." that keeps me from being able to support that quote.

i will continue to hold to my previous argument until i see evidence to prove otherwise. i hope someday i will! ;)

10/27/2005 01:04:00 PM

 

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Tuesday, October 25, 2005

lucky me

i really do feel lucky to be in the field i'm in. (dangling preposition.)

this evening i am looking at an atlas for the picture section of my upcoming exam. i cracked open the book at random and enjoyed the new-book smell. then i looked at the images to which i'd opened.

poopy diapers. a variety of different types of poopy diapers, their notable characteristics, and how to distinguish between them.

lucky, lucky me.

2 Comments:

Blogger Ray said...

being an expert in blogorrhea, you should have no problem right?

10/26/2005 03:18:00 AM

 
Blogger KiltedJedi said...

Actually, being a founding member of the PoopGroup has been foundational in your preparation for just this moment in life. At least in my humble (and silly) estimation.

10/26/2005 09:02:00 AM

 

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Monday, October 24, 2005

reserve

thank God, thank God. i've finally gotten back into studying mode. it has been so long since i have been a student. we've finally managed to wrest open the door to my brain's learning center (basically tore it off its rusty hinges) and start cramming in the information. oh, it was ugly at first, with little knick-knacks popping out and rolling out of arm's reach every time i squeezed in another factoid, but now things are falling into their respective places.

as the devoted reader well knows, i've had a severe information in:out imbalance of late. my blogorrhea has been quite persistent. now it is time for me to focus on input rather than output. the result? surprisingly, blog continence.

so when i don't post, it's not because i have nothing to say (though when i have nothing to say, i don't say anything! it's a good motto to live by). it's because i'm elsewise occupied.

worry not, for there are more camo-licious concoctions a-cookin'. they're simply steeping, simmering, and stewing for now.

the national board certifying exam's on halloween and the day after. send good vibes my way, if you get a chance. i'll be there for two days with my number two pencils and my two tiger-striped bunny ears, raring to go.

2 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

And, well you shall do. There is NO doubt. Consider vibes (and prayers) on the way. Uhhhh....what shoes coordinate well with tiger striped ears????????

10/27/2005 02:54:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

why, tiger-striped bunny slippers. of course.

10/30/2005 03:45:00 PM

 

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Sunday, October 23, 2005

resemblance


from wurmwood & gaul, strip #26

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Friday, October 21, 2005

domination

it's official, folks. i am now the dominant camobunny on the web. check any search engine and see.

not the only camobunny, but the dominant one. and isn't that what matters?

but who's surprised?

3 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

my "camobunny" is with a capital c and b, if i'm in a forum where i use caps. here caps are for deity and for emphasis.

the japanese site? basically an ad for the "goodclothing company"; evidently they have named a cap-sleeved beige t-shirt with a little pink picture of a bunny with a gun after me.

there are two more camobunnies out there. one is an inanimate object. the other calls herself camobunny because she plays paintball. been there, done that.

10/23/2005 09:36:00 AM

 
Blogger P-Zan Leong said...

And I am the dominant Ambiguous Wanderer.

10/23/2005 08:25:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

well, congrats to you too then! and thanks for stopping by.

10/24/2005 12:47:00 AM

 

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Wednesday, October 19, 2005

?

ummmmm ...

hmm. uh ...

has someone out there been praying for me?

good things are happening inside me. it's a funny feeling.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Yep, yep!!! Key here is to continue to let the"funny" take hold (achieved by letting it be: "speaking words of wisdom"....o.k. - I'll stop). Glad to hear it, C.B. Don't be analyzin' - relax and let it flow. It's been "race day" here at ABC. VERY interesting when you have the experience of talkin' about "Livin' in America" (James Brown) with a Mongolian. I'm truly becomming an international brotha. God is good D-win

10/20/2005 05:46:00 PM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

every day, camobunny. every day.

10/20/2005 08:37:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

thank you. thank you all sincerely from the bottom of my tiger-striped, fuzzy little heart.

10/21/2005 12:57:00 PM

 

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Tuesday, October 18, 2005

riposte

OH YEAH?

well, i can, um, i can...

i can heal the sick!

so there. take (unh) THAT!

3 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

come on. any two-year old can do that.

haHA!

10/19/2005 07:22:00 AM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I.....can fly like a bird in the sky - and I can buy anythang that money can buy iiiii-iiiiiii I can change a river into a raging fire - And I can live forever, if I so desire

Plus, as I've stated before, you wear FABulous shoes (that coordinate PERfectly at ALL times)!!!! You know...sometimes I just canNOT stop myself. Props to the Temptations (some throwback to D-wins college years)

10/19/2005 05:10:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

puffintoad: two words. typhoid mary.

d-win: you might not WANT to get next to puffintoad.

10/19/2005 08:37:00 PM

 

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making conversation

i've never been strong in the social graces, but i do try to be polite and gracious.

i need help with a standard response when someone compliments me. i've never been good at receiving compliments gracefully. for example, the other day at church a nice lady told me "you are pree-tee" out of the blue. my options, as i see it, are:

1. express appreciation for the complimentor's kindness and encouragement. something like, "it is very kind of you to say so, thank you." notice one need not necessarily reveal whether or not one believes the compliment to be true.

2. reciprocate. "why, thank you. so are you." gracious, but not always truthful. risk for seeming insincere.

3. lapse into the age-old culturally specific tradition of false humility and denial. "no, please. not at all. not like you." this message is not understood in all cultures, but is the expected response in some.

4. tell how i really feel. "FOOOOOOOOOOOLED YOOOOOOOOOOU!"

i gave option number two yesterday out of my habit of reciprocating, although i believe option number one to be the best one. i'm working on getting it built into my system. number four would be really hilarious to do to someone someday.

3 Comments:

Blogger KiltedJedi said...

Or #6: Damn right I am, Sister!

10/19/2005 07:15:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

oh, maybe options for y'all, but i'd never say those things. i'm neither pretty enough nor conceited enough to be like that.

10/19/2005 01:25:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

yeah, but only because they wanted a minority female on their cover.

token minority chick. i hate it when the media uses them, then i realize i am one.

10/21/2005 01:10:00 AM

 

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Monday, October 17, 2005

toujours, toujours

you should know that i am not a fan of using superlatives and absolutes in speech.

there have been two examples of the above absolute in my life.

number one:
"il me faut surtout avoir des fleurs, toujours, toujours."
claude monet

number two was an outright lie. an outright lie that has affected me for always, always.

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Sunday, October 16, 2005

eleanor rigby

ah, look at all the lonely people
ah, look at all the lonely people

eleanor rigby
picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been
lives in a dream
waits at the window,
wearing the face that she keeps in a jar by the door
who is it for?

all the lonely people
where do they all come from?
all the lonely people
where do they all belong?

father mckenzie
writing the words of a sermon that no one will hear
no one comes near
look at him working,
darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there
what does he care?

all the lonely people
where do they all come from?
all the lonely people
where do they all belong?

ah, look at all the lonely people
ah, look at all the lonely people

eleanor rigby
died in the church and was buried along with her name
nobody came
father mckenzie
wiping the dirt from his hands as he walks from the grave
no one was saved

all the lonely people
ah, look at all the lonely people
where do they all come from?
all the lonely people
ah, look at all the lonely people
where do they all belong?

1 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

props: the beatles, of course

10/16/2005 07:45:00 PM

 

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Saturday, October 15, 2005

diva

this bothers me.

i must have hit reset or auto-adjust on my monitor or something, because nothing is right anymore. the green of my sidebar and my '897' isn't quite as yellow as it used to be, it's paler and mintier, and the blue up top is not quite right. the prickly pineapple looks sort of a dusty sour color.

maybe not. the difference is so slight i can't tell if i'm imagining it. maybe it's just that my contacts are dry and i had a margarita for claire's birthday. because i don't remember what i did to the monitor; i know i messed with the buttons a little last night. now i can't fix it and it makes me want to walk away in very mild disgust.

i didn't think i had that in me.

i know you don't care either, unless maybe you're puffintoad.

1 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

My page will probably look the same to you, since it's just my monitor settings that got changed.

Honestly, those dots are a visual assault to my sensibilities, dot by dot.

10/16/2005 06:48:00 PM

 

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Friday, October 14, 2005

work

sometime i actually enjoy the idea of being on call.

i guess i don't call it on call anymore. it's just work now.

often before working one of my sixteen hour shifts i will have the presence of mind to pack all this stuff ahead of time. first and foremost i prepare a big bag of food. i fill a plastic shopping bag with all of these things i think i might like to eat or drink while at the hospital. i always include a hot drink mix/bag of some sort. i like to think that i'll have a chance to hide away in my little hidey hole, away from all the responsibilties of this place where i'm supposed to be VERY PROFESSIONAL and do something as ridiculously personal as making a beautiful cup of flavored coffee or snacking on a star crunch while skeletonizing a quick poem idea. so yes, i also bring things to read and to write on. and a bunch of toiletries. it's like going on a little business trip, and you know how i do love to travel.

the dynamics of call are funny, especially the 1500 to 0700 shift. most of the time i arrive to relative quiet. i take signout, and then once my colleague leaves, i walk around, multiple laps to make sure i know what i'm doing. i make a list of the tasks i need to do and at what time. i put my lists in my back pocket and set my pager to go off at 2240. then i can set up in the call room. i get out the paraphernalia appropriate for my chosen task o' the day (lately it's been board review), make sure i have a drink, and get started. i don't usually get very far before getting paged. the first page is usually something stupid and trivial, like this baby has a diaper rash can i use butt cream on it. but after that i feel as though something's up and i walk into the nursery. my presence usually triggers a chain reaction of, oh, i'm glad you're here, i wasn't going to call you but... and oh there's this, and what about this, oh me too! so i do a few paperworky things and tie up some loose ends. i do another lap or two just staring at the kids at each bedspace before i leave again.

then i can get back to my personal task. just when things get rolling and i'm studying well or in the middle of a beautiful flow of phrase, i get paged. i hustle (i always hustle at work, people make fun of me for it sometimes) off to save a life.

[knock, knock] "pediatrics," in a suave tone that yet means business. you have to comfort and command authority at the same time. (two knocks because three is too aesthetic, two communicates a sense of urgency, especially if you start opening the door on the second one.) grab a pair of gloves on the way in. try not to be angry that i wasn't called earlier. push the curtain aside and enter with a smile toward the laboring woman at her most vulnerable, in the most physical pain she will ever be, exposed in a most compromising position to a perfect stranger. smile sweetly, while worst-case scenarios dance like sinister sugarplums across the stage in my head. no time for words. to the ohio table! listen to the nurse rattle off what she thinks is important for me to know. ask about the things i actually need to know, in very very hushed tones. try not to be annoyed thinking that i shouldn't have to ask while the rest of my mind thinks suction: bulb, delee 80-100 cm of water; oxygen: mask inflated? check pressures, cpap, bag breaths; airway: laryngoscope, i like the zero blade but the one has its uses, screw that lightbulb in tight tight! so tiny, so hard core! e.t. tube. meconium? CRAP (literally). get the right darn e.t. tube, why don't we have 3.5's here? mec aspirator. why do you fumble with it so awkwardly? wait. wait. wait. wait. cry. cry. cry. come on, cry. CRY! cry? oh good. i half subconsciously do a little wiggly dance of relief to hear that, God, what a great sound. thank God. let's go, rub!

very well, life saved. say something honest but suave and sweet to make it seem like it was nothing because i hate making moms cry. and back to me. wait. get paged. save a life. return. repeat.

at 2240 the pager goes off. there is a slight twinge of anxiety in my chest as i leave the comfortable familiarity of stressful babyland to take on the e.r. i help clean up the crap that my colleague got slammed with and let that poor soul go home. by then it's about 0130, and of course someone else needs to deliver. i go, knowing i'll return for my nightly "nothing is wrong with me but my parents got freaked out" patient. "before i begin, i want to let you know i'm carrying the delivery pager, so if someone needs to be born i may get called away and have to run."

i can't often use the bed to sleep. i use the computer or turn on the stupid little tv and think. i go over the lists. a few times through the night i will burst into the nursery and ask, "is everybody breathing? okay. oh and butt cream for everybody, so you don't have to page me." do a quick lap and walk away. occasionally this process is stalled by a "these parents have some questions they forgot to ask during the day." about what? "oh this and that that was answered this morning or completely doesn't matter." i have nothing to add but i add it anyway, VERY PROFESSIONALLY, convincing rather than informing, closing the door to future irrelevant and unnecessarily anxiety-provoking questions.

(yesterday i arrived to pure chaos instigated by troublemaking triplets. get signout. what signout? walk around. assess. intubate. surf. extubate. assess. intubate. surf. extubate. assess. bless. who's looking sicker? assess. reassure. realize that it's gonna be crappy for a couple hours yet.)

by 0430 i'm starving. i've already eaten all my food. cafeteria is closed. i could sleep i guess. but then i'd feel all funky if i had to do something, and besides five o'clock gases will all come back at 0540. i stay up and watch the clock. i make sure i haven't left any loose ends i'd be ashamed of. i tie up each issue with a pretty little bow. and at 0630 i go get breakfast so i can signout at 0700 and leave.

sometimes all that is null and void. i can arrive to a complete disaster and then work in an all out berserker frenzy from moment of arrival to moment of replacement. that is pure torture, and probably one of the reasons i stay thin. in those situations there is no time to sit, eat, or think about oneself at all. there's barely time to go to the bathroom.

i remember that man at that party who made the ridiculous comment that oh, you're just a pediatrician? now that seems easy. i mean, they're just kids. so simple. what could you need to know? bito and ghu looked at me with these terrified looks on their faces, as if they were afraid i'd erupt and singe them too with my spewing lavastorm of correction. i just kept quiet and faked calm on my face while bito hurriedly said, "nah, dude." i knew if i opened my mouth the tirade would get more and more bitter until i made it personal. he was a personal trainer for a living.

i don't know how to end this, but i just worked a sixteen hour shift so there will be no careful consideration put into concluding gracefully. because now i am at home and i have (thus) put work behind me.

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Wednesday, October 12, 2005

food!

i was SO EXCITED about eating my last meal it was as though i were an animal, probably a dog. if i had a tail it would have been wagging uncontrollably. i was almost frantic just before i started eating. i can just see it: ears flopping everywhere, paws and claws click-clacking on the linoleum, running toward food. tongue hanging out. face disappearing into bowl. and at the end of the meal how the dog licks the bowl, then tosses it up in the air and bites it along the edge as if to make sure there's nothing left at the bottom, then places it upside down on the floor and looks at you feeling very satisfied and proud of itself—it was that sort of enthusiasm.

i ate half a large pizza.

it's great getting so much pleasure out of something so simple.

(what is wrong with me?)

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¡ojalá que!

yeah, oh if only! seriously, ¡ojalá que!

i have always had more stamina than my non-medical musician friend counterparts. given the opportunity i could sing all day long. the only time my voice has ever been fatigued was the time i had worked a busy overnight shift before early morning rehearsal and late morning service. i think my entire body and brain were fatigued because my voice was there but i couldn’t control it! i couldn’t make it make the pitches i wanted or control dynamics or vibrato. it felt like an out of body experience in a way. i will rest more before singing. but i heard k-dub worry that the weekend would be a musical marathon and i just thought, i wish! oh if only!

i don’t want to be a professional musician; that would so kill it for me. my music is mine, MINE! but cousinray (camocuz?) has a musical marathon coming up and i’m jealous.

wait, actually... hey, i’m not jealous. i’m proud in a weird cousinly sort of way. and i definitely do not covet anyone’s life if they have midterms. good luck cousinray. get plenty of sleep and fluids and study. the gigs are a night each. the grades a little longer.

now, back to banging my head against the books for pediatric boards.

1 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

qualifier: i do not have any more "stamina" than my friend the puffintoad. she didn't fatigue either.

10/13/2005 12:30:00 PM

 

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funny villains

speaking of he-man—

my brothers would occasionally get action figures as gifts. there were two really funny villains that i remember them having that i still think are hilarious.

first there was this one that smelled bad. right out of the package we lifted the figure to our noses and sniffed. it smelled like skunk. its name was stinkor. what kind of marketing strategy is that?

the other that comes to mind is this dude, mantenna. he has a lever on his back and when you push it, his eyeballs pop out on these really long stalks. so freakin' funny. i think he was from she-ra rather than he-man.

we only had a few. nothing like eric brown, who lived down the street. he was an only child. he had the full set of everything masters of the universe AND care bear. or was it strawberry shortcake?

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is there?

is there a kind of hope that lacks confidence?

i am certainly not hopeless. i have never lost hope. but i would say a lot of the time my hope is small, kind of cringing in the corner. worried. i have an image in my head of that wimpy cat from the he-man cartoon, quivering in a spotlight. wasn't his name cringer? it seems counterintuitive, that hope could be diffident, uncertain.

there's a poem rattling around in my head about it. something about how i dare not drink from this pool of hope, that i might fall, be caught up in waves of expectation and drowned in depths of disappointment. i haven't written it yet.

but i do have hope. it's small, but it's there.

i hope.

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please

some sleepless night
if you should find yourself alone
let me be the one you run to
let me be the one you come to
when you need someone to turn to
let me be the one
to set things right
when this whole world’s turned upside down
let me be the one you run to
let me be the one you come to
when you need someone to turn to
let me be the one
for love and understanding, to find a quiet place
for silent understanding, a loving touch
come to me when things go wrong
and there’s no love to light the way
let me be the one you run to
let me be the one you come to
when you need someone to turn to
let me be the one

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Blogger CamoBunny said...

props: paul williams, roger nichols

10/12/2005 01:47:00 AM

 

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Tuesday, October 11, 2005

craving

and now i'm finally going to go and get me that falafel i've been craving for a week. thank you folks. tip your waitstaff.

... break for lunch ...

ended up with sushi and krispy kremes instead. falafel tomorrow. why? i don't know. who cares.

and now? mmmmmm. post-prandial alkaline tide. (aka "food coma".) mmmmmmm.

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uh-oh, she's losing it

bichon frise.

HAAAAAhahahaha!

1 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

nice.

by the way, it occurred to me that i could have put a picture of a bichon frise next to this post, but i thought it would detract from the insane tone i was going for. if i had, though, i definitely would have used that picture of the BF on the cheesy dog picture wesbite we found that one day.

10/12/2005 01:36:00 AM

 

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battle cry

and all i’ve got to say to you all is

boo hoo.

boo freakin’ hoo.

this is not a poem for once; this is a message i want you to hear clearly. it is meant in love, even if it is in the dour tone that i cannot seem to sweeten no matter how many revisions i make. i’m sorry, it’s my vernacular. (haha, kj!)

you feel as though you are missing something from your life because you have arranged your life around yourself. it’s hard not to do; it’s human nature. but to you all who have your spouses and children, your families, your jobs, your american security: don’t you understand what you have been given, and the power that you have to do something incredible with it?

i share my life with no one, which is difficult, but thank God that i do not lack for purpose and meaning every single day of my life. every day i know exactly why i am here. every day i know that i am still here because He has something yet for me to do. and every day i know that when i am finished the reward will not be for what i have done, but it will be because i am done. i have something definite to look forward to, but i am not waiting for anything to begin. i do not mistake the fact that i am living my life right now.

boohoo. you’re bored with your job. boohoo. your american dream has never come true; you aren’t young or beautiful or fit anymore; you haven’t written your novel or built your empire. boohoo. you are no one’s hero; you have no quest, no battle at which to cry your battle cry. boo. hoo.

you blame the changes in your life. you say that new roles in your life are so demanding that you have no time to be who you used to be, to accomplish the goals that used to be so near and dear to your heart. you are complaining about your complacency, without even recognizing it for what it is.

you don’t seem to understand the gifts you have been given. goodness, you may as well have nothing. starvation in the midst of plenty. that’s this place for you. only the rebellious dwell in a parched land, my friend. or worse, you let these things take over your life and suffocate you; you drown in all these rich blessings that are being showered down upon you.

and it’s not fair. no, it isn’t. so don’t complain about how it hasn’t happened for you. if it hasn’t, it probably wasn’t ever supposed to. if it is supposed to, then go and make it happen.

ask for your eyes to be opened. look around at what you have been given. there are opportunities all around you that you just haven’t had time or care to see. there is a place for you; there is something for you to do. are you prepared? no, i assure you, you are not. you will not be ready for what you are about to see; you cannot realize what will be required of you. it will be hard, it will be new, it will challenge you and even hurt you. but are you equipped? yes, by all means, yes.

the armor of God
finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil. for our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.
stand firm therefore, having girded your loins with truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and having shod your feet with the preparation of the gospel of peace; in addition to all, taking up the shield of faith with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
now i hope someone of you is honest enough with me to tell me when i’m boohooing too. i do it a lot.

1 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

... but sweet at the core. the core being the last few paragraphs.

it seems harsh only because i'm a girl. people don't call their football coaches "harsh" in a mid-game pep talk, do they?

10/12/2005 11:24:00 AM

 

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did you know?

it really is quite a disservice to someone, putting them on a pedestal.

from up there, you can see just how low everyone’s standards really are.

it's also simply unfair. you fall from up there, you get hurt worse.

ain’t that a kick in the head?

don’t pedestalize. it’s not nice.

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human web

i cannot extricate myself from this tangled human web they call society. i tried setting fire to certain bridges, only to find they get extinguished as soon as i turn my back.

how is a person supposed to move on? witness protection program?

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don't say it

i do not like hearing the phrase, "the heart wants what it wants".

don't even say it.

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excuses

the eschemo survivor can accurately isolate the etiology of her emotional lability, because she is naturally so even-keeled. i, however, have no excuse.

how do you tell everyone that you didn't have a good time, when they all did? you don't.

i actually did try prednisone for a little bit. just a mini-burst. a burstlet. staving off the musty spirits, you know? i don't think it's what made me cranky.

that's it. cranky. that's exactly the word to describe how i've been since the weekend. from the moment of my arrival and learning i was assigned to bunk with a bunch of silly giggling college girls, i was cranky. old and cranky.

all weekend i had to deal with prejudice too. i don't know if it's even worth trying to fight it. sometimes i can't tell if i think i'm fighting prejudice and ignorance, but really i'm just standing up for my own ego. the three things i have to say regarding that are: 1) would you ever ask a black american where in africa "home" is? you'd be flayed in a heartbeat. 2) just because i have a uterus doesn't mean i plan on leasing it out to a fetus anytime soon, or ever for that matter. 3) i AM a doctor, but if you won't acknowledge me because i'm a young woman doctor even after a life has just been saved then i can't be of help to you.

did you ever think? no one is there to support the doctor after something scary happens. you can't take it easy after someone almost dies. all i wanted was a freakin' hug. thank God for little kids.

most sadly of all, the music was lackluster. i know, everyone else seemed to enjoy it and it served its purpose, so it isn't worth discussing. i wish i could be truly as "laid back" as i try to seem. how should i explain that mediocrity doesn't sit well with me, and that i don't like participating half-heartedly? i shouldn't. but also i know that was all me. look, i made a new musician friend, but sitting down to play with her she committed two of my biggest musical pet peeves: she played everything too loud and too fast. kind of like when kids blaze through piano sonatinas as quickly as they can with no sensitivity whatsoever. not to say she isn't talented; she is. i guess i just felt it incompatible, and then i couldn't enjoy it. my loss, really.

it really isn't fair of me. i can't compare one year to another. maybe i had unfair expectations. honestly, i don't know what i was thinking. i was hoping it would be— fun. relaxing. it wasn't.

maybe it was just pms. that would make a great excuse. i hope that's it.

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unpleasant surprise

nothing like seeing a picture someone else took of you and being reminded how hideous you actually are.

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chunky


we've got a chunky blog period coming up. i can feel it.

2 Comments:

Blogger Ray said...

seems like a pretty advanced case of chunky blogorrhea.

what do you s'pose you treat that with?

10/11/2005 11:03:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

b.r.a.t. diet ...

10/12/2005 11:35:00 AM

 

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Monday, October 10, 2005

reoccurrence

i dreamed this morning that i was walking against the wind. it was really hard to get anywhere. i held on lightly to bumps in the windows and walls. a couple of times i lost a lot of ground because i was blown backwards, floating slowly and gently back for several feet. i was more fascinated than frustrated.

that reference seems obvious. that one is easier to talk about than the other one from this morning, where i was looking for two of my pairs of shoes. whenever i found one pair, i had to change shoes and leave the other pair behind for a while, knowing i'd have to come back to get them later. black patent kate spade slingbacks vs. punk diesel poser track shoes. i had to go all over this artists' area of town, in and out of playhouses, teahouses, hotels, the front seat of a brown el camino. i saw people from every sphere of my life, including my ex, who hasn't made a dream appearance in many months, and complete strangers. i got busted by cops who were telling me it was safe to come out and they opened my car door to find me holding the little boy undershirt that i was trying put onto my own shirtless little boy torso. i screamed and nobody understood why. i calmly snuck around alone while something in or near the theatre burned, creating a bizarre haze inside and outside, making the players wave towels around in the air, or just their arms. they let me in on their secret but wanted me to keep it quiet. i attended a bizarre old-fashioned full-coverage granny-nightgown belly dance wherein i guided a tiny little yellow-nightgowned person with a yellow nightcap pulled over her eyes in a wheeled walker ceremoniously and toruturously slowly around the room in a circle. i watched as a random girl who was my friend found something she'd dropped on the sidewalk the night before, her red spangly purse-bag that somehow matched tonight's outfit. i saw my friend d-win with pins in his bloody broken left arm, laughing and crying very loudly at the play he was watching. i searched for my pastor at a hotel where the political convention seemed to impress my accompanying stranger-friends in their cardigan sweater set, skirt/pearls, and suit. there's a lot more i can't recall. all the while i was looking for my shoes, neither frustrated nor tired, just slightly impatient and in wonder at it all. suddenly i realized my slingbacks were in my hand and my diesels on my feet, and i felt perplexed. at least i had friends with me helping me search there at the end. no, more like witnesses.

then, i couldn't find my car.

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Sunday, October 09, 2005

weekend off

i could see that his lips were blue from across the pool.

surely not. i always think bad things are going to happen. they usually don't.

nonetheless i found myself already halfway there, going as fast as i could, powerwalking so i wouldn't slip and hit my head on the wet surface.

"is he breathing?"

"no."

foam covered his mouth and nose. his eyes were partly open. GCS = 6 for that would have been deceptively high. he wasn't that alive. she was terrified.

"put him on his back."

he really wasn't breathing. sternal rub. nothing.

"okay, fine. wipe his face. two rescue breaths. do it. right now."

i was nervous because his chest didn't rise. after entirely too long, it moved, and his stomach did too. she lifted her head, and more foam bubbled out of his nose. i saw more belly movement.

"good. turn him on his side. recovery position. wipe off his face again."

he breathed deeply and rapidly, in and out really hard. his pulse was thready and rapid, but present. so that's a, b, and c. now what?

does he have any medical problems? seizures? did he hit his head? no one knew. just wait, then. wait. wait.

he was hyperpneic. good, but still unconscious. it seemed a long time before his eyes started moving, flitting about. his arms and hands twitched. he never did cough like they do on tv. pupils were about 5 and 5.

"what's his name?"

wait. wait. WAIT.

i was shouting. "listen to me! squeeze my hand! come on!"

squeeze.

relief. GCS = 10. unclenching of my stomach. wait. wait. wait. wait.

he tried to sit up, flung out an arm, and hollered something in french, staring at nothing in particular. GCS = 13. he trembled. i was still shouting.

"listen to me. you're fine. lay down. we're taking care of you."

stare.

"it's a dream?"

relief. did he just say it was a dream? of course it's all dreamy. your brain just took an anoxic hit and it's waking up.

"no, you're not dreaming. you had trouble in the pool. now squeeze my hand. good. stick out your tongue. good. just wait. wait."

wait. wait. wait. i felt all over his skull, just to be sure.

"you mean this isn't a dream?" GCS = 15.

"no. follow my finger with your eyeballs. good. very good."

"i feel tired."

"that's okay. we're taking care of you. don't be scared. you'll be okay."

it's fine. he's fine. he'll be fine. give him time. call someone, let's get him to a hospital.

she saved his life. i did all the talking, but she pulled him out of the pool and breathed air into his lungs.

she saved his life.

i was just there.

3 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Wow, CamoBunny! Were you called to the scene, or did you just happen to be at the pool when something bad happened?

10/10/2005 12:34:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

i, like each of the other adults on this church retreat, was assigned to one hour of "child care" that day. it just turned out that my one hour was the hour something very bad happened. the girl who did the real rescuing happened to be a nurse. coincidence? i think not.

i wouldn't have gotten called to the scene. in fact, after all was said and done, one of the men said, "go get TR! he's a doctor." i was like, ahem, I am a doctor. but there wasn't time for my ego.

it's a good thing this didn't happen in the previous half hour, where we were "supervising" paddleboats on the lake. i had been thinking that if someone fell overboard, i don't have lifeguarding skills to bring kids to shore without getting pulled under myself.

10/10/2005 12:35:00 AM

 
Blogger A. Klemmer said...

Wow. Just wow.

1/13/2006 11:11:00 AM

 

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Friday, October 07, 2005

something new

i like what i have in my description box above. it captures the essence of the camobunny as part of the original definition.

wanted to share some things that popped into my head this afternoon that seem as though they'd fit in the box too:

i am the camobunny.
cute.
lethal.


i am the camobunny.
i know how to kill you efficiently.
but i won't.

don't feel threatened; it's just me. why the inspiration? maybe it's the change of seasons. i don't know.

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Wednesday, October 05, 2005

know what i mean?

it's kind of like knowing that you're being stalked, and your stalker doesn't know you know. what do you do? OR your stalker knows you know, and you don't do anything. how's that for status quo?

ever been stalked? then you know what i mean.

you know what else? i had a silly nurse walk me to my car today.

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Tuesday, October 04, 2005

ergonomics

i never thought much about it until last night.

there was this, well, discomfort in my right wrist.

a little achey, a little tingly, a little cold, kind of sick feeling.

finally the discomfort increased until it crossed the threshold, and i noticed it.

i knew immediately exactly what it probably is. i did a quick phalen's and tinel's. nothing yet. but the discomfort is still there. kinda like the one that's been in my left pinky and ring finger for the past five days.

i hope this doesn't mean i have to stop blogging.

people, do as your mother told you. especially those of you who are young; there's still time for you. sit up straight. suck in that tummy to support your back. feet flat on the floor. shoulders back. and get a wrist rest.

doctor's orders.

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props

dr. david hathaway.

he studies the sun, man. the sun!

he’s a solar physicist. i just glanced at some of his work, and man, it’s so out there! it’s so far removed from my sphere of thinking it’s wild.

people who talk about his work end up saying cool-sounding things like “solar maximum is here.”

he is in the space foundation hall of fame.

he seems brilliant (all these puns intended). at least, after the quick 10-minute google investigation i performed he does. he also seems to have done all sorts of other crazy smart stuff. like how his technology has been put into night vision cameras in cop cars to help fight crime, making the world a better, safer place. dang.

i mention him now for some work he did back in ’95 that is near and dear to my heart. he is probably too modest to mention it to anyone, but one of his mentees (?what the heck is the word for the opposite of a mentor?) has memorialized this work on his own site. i link you in at this point because i think context is everything; you must see. if you cannot find it right away, scroll to the third mini-section of the screen. click on the familiar picture.

andersen consulting must have purchased it, for i first saw it years ago in one of their adverts— and history was made.

and here he is. i wonder how appalled he’d be if he knew his picture was on some crazy chick’s blog. i wonder if he has this look on his face because he’s been staring into the sun (note strained eyebrows). but perhaps this is artifact from the photo itself.


props, dude. props.

addendum: sir hathaway corrects me. he states the work in question came to fruition at 18:41 on 02/01/1994. isn't this exciting?

6 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

thank you for telling me that! now i know posting those things was indeed worthwhile.

d'ya think if we asked real nice he'd send us a sound clip of him saying that phrase?

10/06/2005 06:26:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

so shall we schedule it now? a solar maximum party in 2011? i thought about a solar minimum party but that sounds kind of depressing.

i'll leave this post up extra long just for you.

oh, and your comments on his protégé?

10/07/2005 02:56:00 AM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Protege? Didn't Mazda make that car?

Alas, I have strayed from the path of sunlight into the path of some pretty fast-moving electrons.

Sir Hathaway is a great man to work with. Although he'd probably be more interested
in reminiscing over the x-ray images of the sun we took back in 1991 and 1994

Thanks for the heads up on the bunny. My guess is that it came from Anderson Consulting rather than the other way 'round... but I have yet to ask.

Do good: study physics. ;-)

-Dave Gore

10/25/2005 06:58:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

sorry about the protégé label; i still don't know what the opposite of the word "mentor" is.

thanks for stopping by, dr. gore; glad you found camobunny's corner. i'm curious as to what your (and dr. hathaway's) involvement with the tigerbunny is, then, if possibly andersen's ad team came up with the image first ... did you guys just stumble across it too? do i have to retract the props i gave dr. h?

and really, how appalled do you think he'd be if he knew his picture was on some crazy chick’s blog? do you think he really would say "solar maximum is here" for us? if not, would you say it?

10/25/2005 07:31:00 PM

 
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Acutally, I do believe protege is the correct word but, hey, I'm a physicist and that's what Webster's on-line is for. :)

As you're aware, the infamous Dr. Hathaway was (and may still be) involved with a lot of image/video processing work. This is the context under which I learned of the carniverous rabbit. We played with it for a little while on the SGI 4D480 system we had at NASA/MSFC. But until now, I had not seen the Anderson advertisement (graduate students don't get out much). I may yet confront him. :-)

The funny thing about being affiliated with national laboratories with the word "Doctor" in front of your name is that you wind up getting a lot of email from random people over random things. Most of them want to tell you how they've figured out how evolution/astronomy/string theory/relativity/etc is all wrong and they have the correct answers. So I think it'd be a nice change for Sir Hathaway to see a little hero-worship.

And, if you ask nicely, I have a feeling he would give you the clip you're interested in. Trust me, after the TigerBunny incident, you can be certain he has a sense of humor. ;-)

And you'd certainly want the clip from him. He can reach deeper, more authoritative tones than I can. Especially having been mayor of Sunspot, NM.

-Dave Gore

11/09/2005 03:19:00 PM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

ah yes. this is why i never tell anyone that my name too has "doctor" in front of it.

'doh! did i just say that aloud?

11/09/2005 04:39:00 PM

 

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at a loss

oh! oh! oh!

i'm so busted, so freakin' busted!

whatever shall i do?!

1 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

i can't in public, or i'd be incriminating myself...

i plead the fifth!

("amjjrwai". very creepy.)

check your e-mail.

10/04/2005 03:27:00 AM

 

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Monday, October 03, 2005

to dream, perchance to sleep

it's been happening like this for days and days now.

each time i go to bed, i fall asleep and have a remarkably vivid dream.

ten minutes later, the dream takes on a plot twist or a funky ending, and i wake up immediately.

every night and day.

i just want a good night's rest.

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re-occurring goatee

at one point i was presented with the question, "what are your dreams usually about?" i didn't think i had a reoccurring motif to my dreams until a couple of days ago.

my dreams are often about a goal i have that i can't quite seem to achieve. usually it's some place i'm trying to go, sometimes it's something i'm trying to get done. many times it involves meeting or helping someone. and in these dreams something keeps coming up that doesn't quite allow me to get there. the situations will change so much as to be, well, you know how dreams are, non-sequitur even. people from unrelated social spheres and times in my life pop in and introduce new plots that twist every which way. somehow i manage to follow along each and every turn, stories and people accumulating, but still in the back of my dream-self's mind i have this small awareness that i still have that task i need to accomplish; i just have all these other, also important things to do first too. sometimes it gets to where i can't remember why i need to do the deed or get to the place, but i always remember that i still need to.

does that make sense? here's an example. the other night i dreamed that i was trying to meet suzanne for lunch. that's because the next day i was actually supposed to meet her for lunch in real life. i set out from a building of some sort on foot. along the way i ran into some college students whom i treated as my old college friends in the dream but in real life i could not name them. they decided to join me; they all wanted lunch. you can walk with me if you want, but i'm eating with suzanne, i announced. friends brought friends. then one steered the group toward another friend's apartment. while i waited somewhere by a low, moss-covered brick wall, i ran into jen, who was a roommate of mine for a brief stint in '96. we needed to catch up because she had had a baby and was pregnant again, belly rounding out her blue and steele blue and slate grey crocheted sweater in a very reasonable manner, at least in my opinion. i was talking to her, thinking that i need to get to suzanne but i need to catch up with jen, and people were asking, "so, where are we going?". i got on the cell phone and called someone else i needed to call. we are eating at castellano's (no such place i know of). it's tapas. and i felt it was somewhere east and south, and i had to drive to get there. but there was a casa gallardo's at the mall, where they all wanted to go (there used to be one in real life, but it closed). it went on.

so that's what i mean. many times i will share the dreams that affect me most with suzanne, who usually assigns a meaning to them. i wouldn't say that i believe in the accuracy of dream interpretation but i am afraid that hers have all been or come true. i have not yet, however, alerted her to the presence of this pattern in my dreams. i don't know that it is a good theme to have.

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Blogger CamoBunny said...

yes, steele blue was for you. it's kind of steely blue-grey, you know? but you're grossman now. and who wants to wear gross blue? gross-man group?

the interpretation would be simple—except that my life is so darn perfect. i have no goals, everything i could make happen has happened. i have power like that.

unless you want to talk about my true goal that is dying and going to heaven, and i have to get all of this life stuff out of the way first, and that's the frustration that comes out in my dreams.

10/04/2005 01:04:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

yes. mostly, though, i feel as though i have given up on the whole self-improvement thing. i don't strive to be better anymore. i really am just hangin' out, doin' my thing, waiting for the day i can ditch this rock and go be with the Lord.

i was thinking about making a blog devoted entirely to the bizarre and creepy words these verifications create and their pronunciations and madeup definitions. but i don't need ANOTHER blog. i've already got so many it makes me seem ill. but it would be funny in a nerdy way. if i were smart enough and cared enough i'd put it in my sidebar as a scrolling blogpost thingie, i can't remember the real name.

my next one is gdllz.

love you, –M–. or is it PT?

10/04/2005 03:24:00 AM

 

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Sunday, October 02, 2005

assessment

he stepped up to our table, interrupting the meat lady (is that the right title?) in the middle of her shpiel that demonstrated the size and shape of the different steaks. we looked up from the tray of raw meat cuts and lobster tails at this busboy, who happened to be the meat lady's roommate and cousin.

"excuse me, i just wanted to say that you ladies are fi-ine!"

fortunately the meat lady thought this was hilarious and just started cracking up. that made it funny instead of freaky.

i suppose we had the right to feel complimented, but it made a small seed of resentment sprout inside me. you see, people of his race have a history of fetishes for people of our race.

whuh-oh. race. i'm not telling you what his race is, nor mine. i'm not going to say anything prejudiced. i am simply making observations, and i try to limit observations to those i have observed directly.

i was at work. he asked, "will your husband have dinner ready for you when you get home?" no. "what, no med school marriage for you?" no. "did you prepare supper before you came?" no, i needed a haircut, so i was at the salon. "i'll bet you spent 2 hours there." no, now that my hair is short it takes very little time to take care of it. "did you cut off a lot of hair?" yes. "see? why? why? anybody'll tell you that men like long hair." (he said it just like that, emphasizing each word separately.) well, did it occur to you that i don't keep my hair according to what men prefer? i am not truly shrewish enough to have said that. "i donated it to kids who can't grow hair of their own."

"oh. well, still." pause.

"what kind of food do you cook? do you cook food from your ethnicity? i mean, uh, culture?"

good grief. i outrank him by many degrees. he may be older than i am by 25 years, but i'm practically his boss. and he is sizing me up like a piece of exotic meat by asking about my domesticity.

AND i didn't even pick up on it until later. i wasn't bothered about it until the next morning, when i realized what he had been doing.

he was assessing my womanhood.

i don't appreciate that. not at all.

2 Comments:

Blogger Ray said...

i wonder though, what would you rather have assessed? while, he's probably never ever been right in his assumptions (the day when the girl says, "well, yes he will have dinner ready when i get home" or "well, now that you mention it, i do miss all my hair!" he probably won't even know what to do with himself), i wonder how else creepy old men start conversations with young women. perhaps not so much for you, but i find it refreshing when someone out of the blue just starts talking at me, especially when they're old, old people are so kooky. i guess old ladies aren't hitting on me, as much as they used to anyway, but i think it's far more interesting than when they're just talking about, say, the weather. or how many siblings you have.

don't take it so personal! creepy old men are here to stay and they're harmless. generation upon generation of young women will be greeted (or accosted i guess) by generations of creepy old men. circle of life or something like that. creepy old men are like little time capsules that show us the way things used to be and how much things have changed. i never thought i'd be defending creepy old men, but it's a great deal more fun, i think, than examining how asian women are objectified in a wholly unique way compared to women in general. i guess it's the creepy-old-man-to-be in me.

as for the meat dude, did that little seed sprout because of said fetishes or because of the tactless way in which he expressed them? maybe if he had pulled you aside and whispered in your ear (ewwww no even creepier!)? written you a note on a napkin? or maybe if it hadn't been right before dinner and you were cranky and hungry because all you wanted was your big hunk of steak?

which brings me back to, well, what if he had said something else? what would you rather have assessed? and don't say you'd rather not be assessed at all because first of all, that's no fun, and second, people are assessing other people whether they verbalize it or not.

didn't mean for the comment to turn into this stream of consciousness verbal diarrhea, but i was bored and playing devil's advocate on your blog, in particular, is fun!

10/03/2005 01:42:00 AM

 
Blogger CamoBunny said...

what would i rather have assessed? if i must be assessed at all (fun? this is not about fun. this is real life, youngster—heh, heh) i guess the basic things i might be more used to must be the ones i assess in others subconsciously: nice or mean, smart or dumb, honest or dishonest, useful or useless, proficient or incompetent, and christian or non-christian. i'm not saying those are better either; i wish i could put those down too. i still contend it's not our job to judge. how do you like everyone judging, say, how well you do at school, and comparing that to others? it just feels bad, and there are better things we could do for one another. there are more important things about each other that we can appreciate.

and don't take it personally? does it sound like i'm taking it personally? i'm generalizing. no self-respecting woman wants this crap. now there are those women in the world who derive their identity and self-esteem from men's opinions on these things. they're the poor girls who end up posing for porn or popping out so many babies that they can't control their bladder for the rest of their lives.

this dude's not that old; early fifties isn't really that old unless you're pretty darn young. even if he were old, that's no excuse. some people excuse old white people who say "black people are a subclass of people and it's okay to think of them as animals or property." i don't think that is excusable; they have had plenty of time to learn to keep thoughts like that to themselves if they must continue to think them. if they are totally addled, that is a different story. this man has no excuse.

at work i want a professional workplace. he really ought to have been doing his job instead of wasting time trying to size up his boss. i should have told him to go collect the urine sample from the patients in 7. or i could have scolded him when i opened the drawer and tongue depressors weren't stocked, which is his job.

having someone see how you measure up as a woman isn't a pleasant thought, but it's the markers he used that really get to me. he even brought in my weight and if i keep the house clean. he asked everything short of my bra size and whether or not i am good in bed. it would be like a woman asking men, "how much money do you make? what kind of car do you drive? how much can you bench? do you buy your girlfriends jewelry?"
i'm just glad i had my shapeless white coat on or i have had to go home from work directly to the shower to get all the slimy eyeball tracks off me.

at work, boring conversation is acceptable (because it doesn't piss me off, haha). the thing is, in our line of work there are just so many other crazy things to talk about that are hilarious and fascinating. i have gone, what 4 years now in this profession and it has only been people like him (of his specific race and station) who have found it appropriate or interesting to talk to me like this. someone needs to teach him that women can do more than cooking, cleaning, and sex. you'd think me being his boss would clue him in.

as for the meat guy, it was the fetish thing as well as and the impropriety of the comment in that setting. at a fancy and expensive restaurant we paying customers expect to be treated respectfully and professionally no matter our gender or race. such a tactless and tacky gesture was disrespectful and highly unprofessional.

by the way, even if any of them were my age and hot, it would still be wrong.

10/04/2005 02:21:00 AM

 

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is it possible?

sometimes i wonder if it's possible to get dehydrated from the extravasation of excessive amounts of fluid in the form of snot.

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Saturday, October 01, 2005

nevermind.

and folks, we have a winner.

the winner is—puffintoad! for her correct theory stated on 9/12/05.

suddenly i want to hang out with a group of women. i'm tired of dealing with men tonight.

1 Comments:

Blogger CamoBunny said...

you win... a free trip around fat albert!

it's okay, i think. the problem is i am getting a ron-ly vibe from him. we'll see.

10/02/2005 01:05:00 PM

 

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