Occupy Wall Street Occupies my Heart

I'm no financial genius. I bust my ass 40 hours a week for very low pay, and go to school thanks to a state tuition waiver. My husband and I are perpetually struggling to pay off medical bills, courtesy of Cystic Fibrosis and our country's lack of socialized health care. The amount we spend every month on our health insurance premiums (mind you, I'm talking about JUST for coverage, not meds or anything else) is equal to 45% of the amount we pay for rent. Between basic health care and a place to live, that's most of our budget.

I've never invested in stock, never had a mutual fund.

I'm the 99%, clearly.

And the Occupy Wall Street protests are thrilling me. I look at the sea of people protesting that wide, wide income gap, and my heart beats faster. I feel honored that my new job is not only in healthcare, helping people, but is at a nonprofit hospital, and a union job at that.

I loved this quote from a CNN article about it: "The protest has drawn some criticism for its lack of concrete goals. But the fact that Occupy Wall Street is still going strong 19 days later means it's done what it set out to do: Draw focus to the concerns -- and anger -- many Americans have about the country's growing economic gap, plant the seed of an organized voice, and let the protest evolve naturally.

'We're showing that 'we the people' really are here, present, from all walks of life," said Tammy Bick, 49, an unemployed former medical secretary. "It's a meeting of the minds and a voicing of our issues. That alone makes it the best single experience of my life.'"

The other day, I had to go to the nearest Big Town to go get my BLS card (CPR for healthcare providers) before I start orienting at Father Sainty's. I kept Mr. Polly company when he needed to go a litle further out of the Big Town for an appointment with our accountants to get our taxes all finished up. The accountants that we use are people I've known most of my life - they work from home, and their home is on the street I grew up on.

Since we were right there, I saw my childhood home for the first time since the foreclosure. My Mother was still living there up until recently, but I hadn't been there, because of issues between me and her. I was having a very hard time setting foot in that house for the last few years, because of the condition it was in. I believe my Mother is a hoarder, although she would say differently (and does). At any rate, anyone would agree that the house was deeply in disrepair and looked obviously out of place in the neighborhood; it was the one on the block that was 'the eyesore'.

I hadn't seen it since my last visits there which were when I was cleaning and repainting the interior a few years ago.

Since it's been foreclosed, it's being renovated; pretty much gutted and redone. I wasn't sure how I'd feel about that. I think most people feel nostalgic about their childhood homes, and don't want anything changed. I found it to be a big relief to see the house being rehabilitated. I hope it turns out nicely and that the next occupants will be happy and healthy there.

I don't blame the bank for taking away the home, in this particular instance, I'm grateful that it happened. But I understand that's a rare reaction. And I would much rather that any profit from the whole transaction would be shared equally among all the workers involved.

Coming soon, Hospital CNA Polly!

I got the job!!!

I start on the 24th, it's about a 30% pay increase, and I get health insurance for myself and Mr. Polly.

For now I'm tentatively planning to still work at the GreatRep one day a week until I get busy taking more classes next semester. I'm very, very excited and nervous.

Coming soon: orthopedics floor Polly!

Ding Dong, the Witch is Dead

This is in very poor taste, but remember the guy who was threatening to come to my facility and kill his wife (and anyone who got in his way) and then himself?

He's dead!

He had a heart attack. Not that surprising since he kept checking himself out of the hospital AMA in order to go back home and threaten his wife and family and us some more.

I know, he was probably once a nice guy, and obviously was suffering from some kind of mental illness. But he refused help over and over again. And I think it's fine that I want someone off this planet that is wanting to come and shoot one of my demented little old ladies.

And now he is. I'm not sorry. It's a huge relief not to have that hanging over my head at work anymore.

Day 8: Drifting

8 - Who’s someone that you used to be really close to, but you’re not anymore?

All through middle and high school I had two close friends. One of them I'm still close to, the other I recently "broke up" with. The one I broke up with, 'Erin' has issues, y'all. She and I were both way dorky in middle school, and originally bonded over being teased and being in the gifted program together. In high school I became more outgoing, and though I was still definitely a weirdo I didn't get picked on or made fun of anymore. I didn't hang out with cheerleaders or anything, and I was still in honors classes (as was Erin) but I had my own social life and was content with it. Erin stayed a little more on the awkward end of the spectrum, and continued to catch some flak for it.

After high school, Erin and my other close girl friend went to the same university, while I took a year off to work, get healthy, and save up money for college. I visited them on their campus, and Erin formed her own social circle there, which was great to see. She got a first boyfriend, and graduated school, and moved across the country for grad school. We stayed buddies thorughout all this, although Erin would have periodic freak-outs where she'd do stupid stuff like randomly send me a letter bitching me out about something I did when we were, like, 15 years old. But I'd shrug them off and she'd get over it until the next time.

We stayed buddies after I got married, and after Erin dropped out of her second go-around with grad school.

Then when she was home visiting her parents one Christmas, Erin had another one of her weird freak-outs where she said she was going to stop by and see me and my family at my Mom's house, then didn't. When I called her about it she was all twitchy and strange and defensive. I dunno. Not that out of character for her. When I told her I thought it was rude to say you would be somewhere and then not show up, she got mad, and that's pretty much the last time we talked. I tried to engage her about what it is she was upset about and what she wanted to happen, and her response was that we aren't close and the only way we would become close again is if I lived in her town (across the country) and we saw each other daily and since that's not going to happen we've got no chance.

Um, okay? Because that's how most adult friendships work, right? You live down the street from one another and go play after school I mean work? Whatever, Erin. It's entirely possible to keep friendships going after you grow up and move apart. My other close friend from high school lives about an hour away from Erin and she and I still talk often.

So yeah, Erin's little freak-out periods got to be a bit much and I didn't feel like chasing her down to apologize over nothing, so I didn't. Our other mutual friends say it's basically the same streak she's always had, plus that she's got this serious boyfriend that she apparently doesn't want to know that she was a geek in her past (I think he'll be able to figure that one out, people) and so perhaps that's why she's avoiding childhood friends. Lame.

I hate girl friend drama. I'm so glad that my other friends and I can have arguments and work things out like normal people.

Cooking every night? Just crazy enough to work.

I've been making an effort to cook healthy, especially things from my new favorite cookbook, "Appetite for Reduction". So far, everything I've made out of there has been a winner. This is saying something! I'm one of those people who writes in my cookbooks, so I can remember what I thought of a recipe or adjustments I think would improve it. I forgot that I did this until I lent out my copy of "Deceptively Delicous" (that one Jerry Seinfeld's wife wrote where you puree fruits and vegetables and sneak them into everything under the sun) where I'd written "NOT GOOD. Tastes like wet bread. Not enough marshmallows in the world to save this." on her coffeecake recipe. This was before I was vegan. Anyway, my lucky friend Jessica knew not to try that recipe, for sure.

Now I've traded in this

for this


I bought a huge amount of "great northern white beans" (aka those white beans that are bigger than navy beans) from the bulk section of my grocery store the other day, and cooked up a gigantic pot of them. I usually make hummus out of them, since they puree up easier than chickpeas and I like them that way. I got a really easy recipe for that online, and I go by it, basically, adding or subtracting whatever I feel like. Here it is, if you're interested:


Take about 3 cups white beans, 1 tsp salt, a pinch of pepper, a few shakes of thyme, 3 TB olive oil and 2 TB lemon juice, and 1-2 cloves of garlic, minced. Puree that in your blender or food processor, adding warm water as you need it to make it smoother. Usually 1/4-1/2 cups of it.

pretty easy!

Anyway, I've been coming up with ways to use all these cooked beans, now, and there's a great recipe for Pasta e Fagoli in Appetite for Reduction. I tried it out and took some pictures.

It starts with a pretty basic tomato sauce (I even found some old sherry cooking wine in my cupboard, so I did it like a big girl instead of with vegetable broth like usual - score!).


I picked tricolor shells from (natch) the bulk section for my pasta.


Added the beans to the sauce ...


and when everything was cooked, mixed it all together with a bunch of spinach while the sauce was still hot enough to wilt the greens. Hooray!


Very good, and it's got everything all in one bowl, which is awesome. Less packing for me in the morning. I'm one of those dorks that literally packs a lunchbox for work. And it's a pink one, too. I usually bring some leftovers from the night before and some fruit. I might be one of the only people in the world that works in a nursing home and actually still likes and eats applesauce. I even pack it in my lunches sometimes. Even now that I sometimes give people meds crushed into it.

Me and my applesauce are freaky like that. And me and my kitchen are BFF these days.

Day 22: How Have You Changed in the Past 2 Years?

Two years ago this time, I was working as a nanny for two different families; one part-time, one full-time. I commuted almost an hour each way to and from work. I lived in a large rental house, and was trying to get pregnant via sperm donor. My life was very different from what it is now.

Looking back, some things were easier; I made a lot more money back then, so that was much less of a concern. My jobs were really not physically demanding the way working as a nursing assistant is. I had more free time, and I used it to go take water-aerobics at the community center and to cook stuff from my farm-subscription box. Have you heard of those? It's called Community Supported Agriculture. You subscribe to a local farm and get a box of produce every week that's grown in your area. I used to go pick mine up at the community center but some places will bring them to your doorstep. It's pretty cool.

I'm a little wary to write much about my life as a nanny, because I still care about the families I worked for and would never want to say something online that they could find and be hurt by. But in retrospect, I took on a lot of emotional stress from that job, mainly because of a particular issue with one of the children, that I found really hard to deal with as someone that loved that little guy. And what happened to him was the reason I lost my second job with the second family, which was really sad to me, because I loved (still love) those kiddos too.

About two years ago, Mr. Polly and I uprooted ourselves and made big changes in our lives. We were living in a condo and about to close on it, and I assumed I'd stay a nanny for many years to come. Mr. P was teaching Special Ed. When we got the opportunity to move back to our college town and buy the comic book store, we pulled out of the condo right before closing (so sorry real estate agent! Truly!) and moved into a little apartment in a big historic house. I worked harder than I've ever worked, normally about 50-65 hours a week at 2 or 3 jobs at a time to keep us afloat while we tried (slowly) to close the deal on the store. I found out I'm stronger than I knew I was. I found out I'm great at interviewing for jobs, because I was offered most of the ones I applied for. I found out that change doesn't have to be that scary. And I found out that I want to be a nurse. I started out as an in-home caregiver as a supplement to my job at a daycare. And ended up as a CNA at a dementia facility, which I love.

I feel like I'm in the right place, professionally and in my life. My director of nursing pulled me aside last week to ask me if I'm interested in being trained and promoted to be a med tech (I am!!) if a slot becomes avaliable. And last night I started training a new employee for the first time, which means I'm eligible for the Mentor Program at work. I'm registered for fall quarter to start doing my nursing school prerequisites. I love living in the town we live in now. And I'm happy with Mr. Polly. We're not trying to have a baby anymore, but we'll probably start again within a year. And I think I'm under a lot less stress now than I was the first time around, which should hopefully be a good factor in making it happen.

So yep, the last 2 years have been good and hard and I think I'm better for them.

Day 19: Disrespecting Your Parents

Yep, I've done it. I've disrespected both of my parents any number of times. My relationship with each of them has had long rocky stretches at various points. But no one wants to read about that, probably, and I don't really want to dredge all that up, either.

Instead, here's a story about my Dad and how he was gloriously Chuck-Norris-like one time:

When I was a teenager, I would spend every other weekend at my Dad's house. One of these weekends, we kept hearing this odd clicking sound in his living room. All day. While I was working on my math homework ... click click click. While he watched golf on tv ... click click click. Weird. Later in the afternoon, I went upstairs to my room to take a nap. My Dad went into his office to do whatever. As I slept, he went back into the living room for some reason and saw a GIANT CLOUD OF WASPS circling around the living room! The clicking sound? Was them eating through the fricking wall like some biblical plague.

So my Dad, being the weirdo he is, doesn't go upstairs and evacuate me. He's worried that if he hesitates, the swarm will break away from their little tornado formation and spread throughout the house. So he runs to the closet, grabs the vacuum cleaner, puts on all the wand attachments to make it as long as possible, and then? Vacuums up a giant cloud of wasps. Right from the air.

I'll give you a minute to picture that.

Can you imagine my disappointment at napping through all this???

So he vacuums up all the wasps, jams the hose back into the vacuum so they cannot escape, puts the vacuum cleaner out in the yard, and starts calling exterminators from the phone book. They all were willing to come seal up the wasps chewed-through tunnel and remove the hive they were building out there. But none wanted to come pick up a vacuum cleaner filled with pissed-off bees.

So see? I may have disrespected my parents, but those wasps? Will never underestimate my Dad again.

PS I googled Chuck Norris facts about bees and here's what I got:
1. Chuck Norris catches more bees with vinegar.
2. Chuck Norris doesn't eat honey, he chews bees.
3. Before studying Chuck Norris for decades, African "Killer" Bees were simply known as "Really Annoying".
4. The killer bees stopped their northern advance at Texas, cause Chuck Norris has family in Oklahoma.
5. As a child, Chuck Norris' teachers begged him not to join spelling bees... because he would only spell D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R.

PPS I realize I'm probably the only one who still likes the whole Chuck Norris facts thing, but I'm always behind the times that way. Enjoy!

Day 10: First Love and First Kiss.

I skipped this before, because it's all a little . . . icky? But after surviving 36 hours of vomiting, fever, and diarrhea, nothing seems icky anymore.

I didn't make the best choices about dating when I was younger. The only really good choice I made was to wait until I was 16 or 17 to start.

My first kiss was from an alcoholic high-school dropout. That didn't turn into a relationship, thankfully! Nice enough guy, but yikes.

Sidenote: Years later, he married a girl who I went to college with. When I was in college, I worked on the weekends at Denny's for a while. First Kiss Dude and his Fiancee came in together, which surprised the heck out of me because I didn't go to college in the same town I grew up in (same state, but a few hours away). I was so mortified that the only time I ever saw this guy again was when I was sweaty and in a Denny's uniform! Then they asked to be seated in the smoking section and I thought, "Oh, he hasn't changed, he hasn't even quit smoking" and didn't mind as much.
Side note #2: I think I still smoked at that time, so I don't know why I was so judgy about it. Oops.



My first love (first boyfriend I ever said "I love you" to, not first real, mature, lasting love) was inappropriately old for me. We dated during my senior year of high school. He was 28. I met him at a community college class I'd been sitting in on. Again, nice enough guy, but come on. No one normal and healthy that age wants to date a high schooler. I'm 28 now, and you'd have to threaten me with one-by-one finger amputations to get me to go on even one short date with a high-school boy. And if he were under 18, no way. Who does that?! Anyway, we broke up and I went away to college. Which is great! If I hadn't, I'd probably be a stay-at-home-mom with a cheating husband right now. No thanks! No child brides here.

Day 08: A moment you felt most satisfied with your life.

How about now? I'm pretty damn satisfied with my life.

Just got home from my first CNA class (good, although it's torturous to sit still for 8 hours after working on my feet for so long; I actually ache from sitting too long!). Am in my very favorite tiny apartment where it's nice and warm. Mr. Polly is in the other room watching TV and I'm about to start my homework. I've got a delicious snack:
this "crispbread" aka crackers

and chickpea salad (mash up some chickpeas, chopped celery, vegenaise, and season with salt, pepper, onion powder, garlic powder, or whatever else you like).

I've got a job I enjoy and am good at. I know where I'm trying to head in the future but happy in the meantime.

Yep, I'm gonna stick with right now for my moment.

Day 05: Suicide Day?

Wow, what a cheerful topic, huh? A time I've thought about ending my own life.

First of all, you should know this is ALWAYS my solution when watching horrible post-apocalyptic movies or tv shows. Watching Walking Dead? I kept thinking and saying "Why don't they kill themselves?". I know it gets irritating for poor Mr. Polly but I honestly don't understand why these people in movies always want to stay alive after the whole world is ruined and dead bodies are shambling along trying to eat them up. Horrible! I'd rather be regular dead than dead by zombie bite, hands down.

Just so that's clear.

Anyway, though, in real life I've been suicidal-ish, but not enough to actually have attempted it. From 12-19 or 20, I had an eating disorder (first anorexia then bulimia) and then towards the end of that, when I was starting recovery from the eating disorder, I began self-injuring. I was suicidal through a lot of those years, but apparently not too much so, 'cause I'm still alive now, thank goodness! My low point was probably the time I had to go to the ER because of dehydration, ketosis, and dangerously low potassium levels. At that point, I was vomiting 5+ times a day, and afraid to even keep down water. I was a sick, sick girl. But I got some IV fluids, potassium, and referrals for help.

Antidepressants have been a lifesaver for me. My quality of life has improved beyond words since I found the right one for me, and I've never looked back. For me, they shut off the crazy obsessive thoughts about food so I'm able to actually pay attention to the rest of my life and have a good time. It's awesome!

So, yeah. If you're suicidal because of zombies, my advice might be to go for it, but otherwise, my advice is a definite "go get some crazy pills", which is what I affectionately call my antidepressants. I like Zoloft the best.

Sorry for the downer of a post; blame the looky-loo who wrote the challenge list, and remember that I'm a happy camper now!