oooh spooky

So it has been "one of those nights"... in probably a worse way than I thought it would be.

I left Lauren's shower 5 minutes behind my self-imposed schedule, just as she was opening presents. GRR. I finally had a bunch of people in the same room that I liked AND there were lots of cute kids AND Lauren had a cute shirt on I wanted to get a picture of AND she was just getting down to business... when I had to leave. Natch.

Since the shower was at Steve & Leah's (and in utero baby S), I drove through d-town on my way into the "dubc". And there is traffice. Lots of it. And kids. Everywhere. Apparently there was either a parade or trick or treating or something... but the families were out in droves. I called work to let them know I would be 5 minutes late.

I pulled into the parking lot at 3:02, perfect timing to get into the lab at 3:05, except there were no parking spaces. I had to park in a space that may or may not result in my car getting towed. I do not *think* it will get towed... but with how everything has proceeded, it would not be a total shock if it did.

When I got in, the first shift person told me that she had a crazy day and that with everything she did it felt like 1 step forward, 2 steps back. (We come together cuz opposites attract an' you know!) So that was not the thing I wanted to hear, feeling rushed as I was. She left me some coags, two slides, and a poop to look at.

As I got settled in, I grabbed the baby monitor to take on the first shift of answering the pneumatic tube. Quite literally, it rang off the hook. It was suddenly 5. Then, nothing happened for almost an hour. I sat on my butt and read. I decided to go get dinner around 5:45.

As I walked out of the lab, I looked at the fire alarm and thought to myself, that will go off. And then I thought about how many exits there were to the lab and that the likelihood of a fire being actually under the lab was pretty slim... most of the hospital activity at night is in other wings. I kept walking.

I got my dinner, came back, sat on my butt again... and then things started getting busy. And then one of my co-workers, Anne, walked halfway in my room, blurted, "My dad died!" and ran away. I dropped what I was doing and followed her down the hallway where she proceeded to sit on the floor while talking on the phone with her mom.

Anne's dad has been battling incurable lymphoma for about 2 years now. At age 76, he decided to try chemo, even though it was somewhat of a losing battle. It was extremely rough and he has been quite depressed over the state of his health. His wife found him collapsed in the back yard today, where he was doing some yard work. Anne felt it was better to go this way than to go of cancer, but she just kept saying, "I cannot believe he is gone, my dad is gone." My heart goes out to her.

We called our lab supervisor and she came in. While waiting for her, another tech and I cleaned up things in microbiology, even though technically I am not supposed to be working in there. We found a ride for her to get home, and she left. Her parents live near Harrisburg, so she will be driving out there tonight with her boyfriend and staying the week. Since she left, things have been crazy.

First, I got another poop. Then I got a spinal fluid. I got a bunch of regular specimens (way more than usual for this shift) and then some mislabeled things. The pneumatic tube is ringing and ringing and beeping and ringing and we are rushing back and forth to get more and more specimens...

And then the fire alarm goes off!

No, really, it does. I guess it was a good thing I was mentally prepared?! All we do in the lab is basically shut the door and keep working, which I did. But it makes me wonder, how did I know? And if I could know that, then why not know things like, someone is going to die?

It is now 8:00 and things are steady.... not terrible, just steady.

But I would have to say that my occurance of "predictions" has risen quite a bit in the past 2 weeks, so I have to wonder if it is psychosomatic or someone is trying to show me something.

Example 1: fire alarm

Example 2: Jon and I were talking to someone about my crazy dreams maybe a week ago and I remarked that I was overdue for a waking up sobbing in the middle of the night dream. Which I had last night.

Example 3: On our way to teach Sunday School last weekend, I said to Jon, "You know, if people want us to continue teaching, I sort of want them to tell us what a good job we are doing and ask us to keep doing it." And that day, one parent stopped in before class to tell us how much she appreciated us. Then like 3 more adults stopped us on our way out to tell us what a good job they were doing. Then a few days later, we got an email from another parent telling us that her daughter was actually excited to go to Sunday School and she was not having as hard a time waking her up in the morning. Okay, God, I get the hint!



It does seem that I get sort of these premonition type things a bit more frequently than most people... but I might just have a strong sense of intuition. Though thinking the fire alarm would go off and then having it go off is a little strange... I think in my 7 years here I have only heard it go off once? Odd.

It makes me think though about instincts and how much we really trust them. I know I have blogged before about thin-slicing and the book Blink. It argues that our millisecond "snap judgement" is often just as valid as a well-thought, debated, and reasoned conclusion. I wish there were a way to know just how much we can actually trust them, since those instincts are still based largely on sum total of our history, including our biases and prejudices. For example, when a cop racially profiles, is it fair to say that he or she is really doing that? Are they biased because of their past history, or are they just trusting an instinct? If 9 out of 10 times they are right... or even 5 out of 10... is that enough to say it is not prejudice? Very tough to truly know.

I know I have also mentioned Oprah and how she had on some rape specialist (uh, not really good at rape, really good at preventing it!) and he was saying to trust your gut and do what feels natural and to fight fight fight! When you watch a movie and you know the killer is in the room, but the bimbo with the big boobs and a white shirt who just happens to walk through the rain coming through the gaping hole in ceiling decides she MUST go see what that noise is... she is obviously a class a idiot and ignoring all of her instincts. Even YOU feel like running away in those moments, and you are just sitting on your couch watching a movie. Everyone has heard those stories as well of people who feel like they should not get on a plane or ride the bus that day and, lo and behold, it crashes and everyone dies. How do you know what to trust? How do you know what is total paranoia??

My mom slept over on Thursday night because I HATE when Jon is away for work and I sleep really poorly when I am alone in the house. Just having someone there eased my fear. But why am I afraid? Do I really think I could not talk or maim myself out of a invader situation? No. Am I scared of being shot or raped or hurt? No. Do I really think someone is going to come get me? Not really. Do I worry about dying? Strangely, not at all. But I am still scared. Why? Why do I wake up at every sound in the house? Paranoia or instinct? Me being a psycho or my mind preserving itself? Hard to tell, but I am leaning towards a wee bit of psycho.

Anyway, my mom was saying to me that she did not want me to read any books about babies. While we are not pregnant yet, she said that the best thing I can do is to a) trust my instincts and b) ask women that I know and trust and have seen raise great kids for advice. And in fact, most of the women I know who have kids seem to do this pretty well. They are reasonably laid back and their kids all are pretty awesome so far. I guess there is merit to it... though seriously someone is going to have to remind me how to change I diaper. I have avoided that task since babysitting when I was 13. It's sort of like driving stick shift... I know how to do it, and I could do it if I had to, but I am really not all that interested.

Anyway, I apologize for what has turned out to be a stream of consciousness type of post. Whatever, it makes sense to me. And if you are the praying sort, send a couple up for Anne and her family.

bye bye blockbuster

Blockbuster video filed for chapter 11 bankruptcy this past week. Truly, I feel more like a chapter of my youth has closed.


When my family first moved to the area, there was nothing. And I mean nothing. In fact, the strip where Target / Applebees / Giant now is did not even exist. It was just forest.

When they started building that strip, it was VERY exciting. There was a westcoast video store AND a 10 room movie theatre and a Clemens, making it the closest food store to my family, despite it being a 15 minute drive. Before then, the only theatre within driving distance was in Exton. It had 2 screens and showed Rocky Horror at midnight. Too seedy for kids and families.

Anyway, the strip was built and I actually spent a lot of my youth in that area. Whether going with my family to pick up a movie at West Coast, working at Clemens, or seeing a movie at the Regal, I was there quite often.

I remember a *very* special privilage given to my girlfriends and I on the last day of 9th grade. We were allowed to walk from the junior high over to the Regal to watch a movie and our parents would pick us up there afterwards. I recall talking with my friends over how excited we were to do this on our own and cross a very busy street to do so. Being 15 in 1995 was much different than being 15 in 2010.

I remember getting a job as a bagger at Clemens. I worked two or three times a week for 4 hour shifts. I never aspired to check out person and was quite satisfied with my brainless $5.75/hr position making sure people's eggs were not smooshed. A lot of my friends worked there and so it was fun. I always looked forward to having to do "putbacks"... did you know that when you decide you do not want something at the check out counter, it all goes into a cart, and some poor high school student has to walk around with it and put everything back where it came from? It is true. And it was the best job, actually, because you could wander the store aimlessly for hours and people expected you to be sort of gone for good when you did the putbacks.

I remember some time in college when Sarge was visiting from Westminny. He and Jon and I went to West Coast to rent a movie for the night. When you walked into West Coast, they had a turnstyle. I walked through first and spun it a bit quickly before Sarge could walk though. Well.... it hit his milkshake, which proceeded to splatter all over the floor. Oops. The 16 yr old at the counter could care less though.

Maybe that was the whole charm of the strip... each store was run by an army of apathetic high schoolers who were there to get money to put gas in their car and hang out with friends. Naturally, it was a fun place for kids to be.

During my late high school years, a new theatre opened about 10 minutes down the road. It was bigger, nicer, and catered more to where the population was actually located. *MY* theatre was closed within a year or 2. A few years after that, it was razed to the ground. During that time, a Blockbuster opened 10 minutes down the road from West Coast.... and then another opened literally within 5 minutes of my parents. West Coast bit the dust as Magic Video (it's predecessor) did when WC came to town. Clemens went down the tubes as Giant moved into the area. Competative pricing put forth by a huge chain beat the family run local store into the ground. Eventually, Clemens became a Giant. Just recently, a Target was put in (why you need 2 Targets within 5 miles is beyond me) and an Applebees, which is surely a sign of the apocalypse.

In my own small town, a beautiful old saloon was knocked down and turned into a Rite Aid. What was once the only grocery store within 20 miles is now in it's deaththroes as Walmart provides fresher meats and produce due to higher turn around time. In nearby Phoenixville, the classic Val Rio diner was tossed out for a Walgreens.

But my point was not to lament the breakdown of society (though I guess I can do that too), it was more to point out how stinking fast everything is changing. Blockbuster became big in our area when I was in high school... I graduated in 1999. So, what? 10 to 15 years is all the life a media form can have now? Granted, Netflix and DVRs and the internet are awesome... but it was nice to go to the store with your family and argue over what movie to get that night. It was nice to go to the supermarket that you grew up going to, that you worked at, where you knew where everything was located. Oh, and it was certainly nice not to pay $12 or $15 or, in the case of IMAX, $17 bucks to go to a movie.

But Blockbuster is the last in the line of "stuff I did to entertain myself as a teen" to fall. Maybe it just signifies my true adulthood. Because, you know, marrying and buying a house don't. And to be totally honest, this makes me feel more adult-like than any of that stuff. Since we plan to have kids in this area, I can imagine them asking us what we did for funwhen we were kids and us saying well... none of it is here anymore.





Lately I have been feeling a bit dragged down by work. It has been an incredibly stressful year, and, as it tends to do, it has shown that to me bodily. I am tired. I have already been sick, when I have not been sick for probably over a year. My ibs has been flaring up. It just makes me blah. I keep thinking of how much I LOVE October, and how out of the 5 weekends October has this year, I am working 3 of them, including Halloween, which is one of my favorite holidays. On Friday, after we went out to dinner with my family, we got home around 10:30 and I flopped into bed exhausted. It is absolutely true that the youth do not appreciate their youth!

I remember staying up with Jon until 3 or 4 or 5 am... slipping out of his house quietly and trying to slip back into mine without waking my parents. I remember sleeping in til 11. I remember feeling at 10 pm like my night was just starting. I remember late nights at friends' houses playing games and being silly and watching movies. Who does that, now that they are in their late 20's? Why don't we? Why are we so tired now? What happened to sleepovers? What happened to making out with your boyfriend into the wee hours? What happened to feeling like life was yours and the ability to live in that very moment and not worry about the future? Does that just get outdated like Blockbuster?

Jon and I took a moment this afternoon before I left for work to cuddle up. I asked him if we would still be able to have those moments when we had a family. He said we would give them nyquil and put them down for a nap. He was joking. But it still puts forth something worth thinking about.... enjoying your time for the blessings it has.

So I guess this post is coming to this: things change. It happens. We cannot stop it. Mom and pop stores will close in lieu of megachains. Buildings that were town staples for decades will be razed to make way for a new drug store. "Convenience" will become more and more and more convenient until you do not have to leave your house (thanks netflix!). Ultimately, we have to appreciate now for what it is and use it to make good memories for the future. We have to do with what we have. Despite the sadness of old fixtures dying, new stuff crops up and I think you can only cling to the past for so long.

Still, I will have fond memories of my childhood convienences which were surely someone else's bain. I am positive that the people who lived near that strip where aghast at the new development. And so while I am disappointed with today's developments, some child is getting really excited about a new place to hang out, a new place to make fun memories.

I am not very sure on how to end this post but to go in an entirely different but related direction and emphasize the importance of making memories in places that are beyond commercialism. Go camping. Go hiking. Go kayaking. Ride your bike. Play frisbee. Do these things with friends. Get outside where there are trees and grass and bugs and birds, and do it before those places, the truly beautiful ones, are also turned into Walmarts and Targets.

the comfort of swapping spit

I know it may seem a bit strange to think about, but I actually find some comfort in "swapping spit". I do not mean kissing here. I mean the casual sharing of food with a friend or relative.

Last night, my family went to the Kimberton Inn to celebrate my brother's move to Florida, my parent's 32nd wedding anniversary, and our 2nd wedding anniversary. A bittersweet night, but an extra fun one, due to running into my ex-aunt Gloria and her husband Jon, who joined us for coffee and dessert after our respective meals.

For those of you who do not live around here, the Kimberton is kind of a high-brow place. The kind that is built of stone and wood and has roaring fires in the winter. The kind with a piano player. The kind where they comb your table after your main course. The kind of place where you have to use the bathroom 3 times because the waitstaff fills your water glass every time you take a sip. We had stuff to celebrate, and our family likes to celebrate with extravagant dinners that make me embarassed over how much they cost. When I will not even buy a tank top at old navy unless its on sale for $8, a 7 ounce filet with 3 pieces of steamed broccoli and "microgreens" that is 4 times that seems a bit extreme. But hey, my family never did any "typical" family stuff like going camping or even really going to the shore. We did dinner. I am going off track here, but I will never forget the night my brother, then 12, said to the waitress at the Eagle Tavern, "I would like the bacon-wrapped shrimp for an appetizer and the filet for my main meal." Uh huh.

So we had a great dinner. When Jon and I got there, they had already opened a bottle of wine. Turns out that I am a fan of non-acid "round" wine, not the tart one they had opened. So the sommolier bantered back and forth with my mom over what else he could bring out that she might like. He brought some kind of pinot from Italy and her and I were satisfied. My mother and I both had the filet for dinner while my brother and Jon had rack of lamb. I am not sure what my dad had. For (one of) his appetizers, my brother got the lobster bisque. Yum.

Now here is where we get around to the swapping of spit. See? I got there eventually!
My brother passed his bowl over to me, and using his same spoon, I proceeded to lap up quite a bit of the bisque. It was passed on to Jon from there. He did the same, and then passed back to me. I think I ate a spoonful en route back to Chris. This passing and sharing continued until it was pretty much gone. Similarly, before the food even came, we passed around a glass of the two wines so everyone could taste what was available.

So what is so comforting about that? Well, I think I appreciate the inherant trust that comes with the sharing of food. Whether you are eating something that has been touched by someone else's hands or drinking something that surely has a miniscule amount of backwash or putting something to your lips that was just at someone else's, you are basically saying, "I trust you." It is showing you are not afraid to get a little familiar with someone else.

Today Jon and I went apple picking with Kris and Krista. What a good idea! It was a perfect day for it. We got Jonagolds, Suncrips, Crispins, and some Red Delicious. Much like the wine, copious sampling was a necessity! Try before you buy! An apple of each kind was passed back and forth and WOW they were all sooooo good.

It is comforting though to know you are on "that level" with someone. Think about it: would you offer a complete stranger a bit of your sandwich? Would you eat half a cookie that your coworker decided not to finish? If some lady working out next to you at the gym offered you a sip of water from her bottle, would you take it? I doubt you would! But there is a level of comfort with family and with certain (probably not all) friends where you are close enough that you are not afraid to swap a little spit in the process.

I also think that you can use this to read how open a person is. Despite the fact that Jon and I are obviously very close and very comfortable with each other, it grosses him out if I accidentally have to use his toothbrush. Say, when traveling, and I forget mine. Still have to brush, right? This actually does not bother me in the least. For Heaven's sake, we kiss every day, and we have done plenty of other things, so who cares about a toothbrush? But he is skeeved. He will still let me do it, but he does not like it. He just prefers that over my retainer breath. I agree.

I think though that shows a degree of difference in our openness, or at least what grosses us out. But maybe thats a poor example. When I think about most of the people I consider "friends", I would have no problem using a spoon they just used, sharing a drink, or sharing food. This gets a little grey when I think of people I sing with, because I would call them friends, but I definitely do not know them as well as the people I talk with on a daily basis or the people I have known forever like my high school friends. But if they asked, I would, and I would not think too much of it. This, I believe, is related to my degree of comfort and openness with people because I think that some people, who are more closed off, would say yes out of obligation but be secretely nauseated by it and would sereptitiously wipe the top of the bottle they just shared.

Still, the point of this writing is more to express my appreciation of the very simple indications that you are close with someone rather than to question people's openness. When you are at that level, you do not even hesitate or think about sharing, it is simply part of your nature and your relationship. You share food, you share life, and inherent in this is the trust between those two people. Today I have really been glad for that.

As my brother drives down to Florida for who knows how long, I will miss the daily presence of someone I never hesitate to share soup with.