march madness

I have not stopped smiling since my last blog post. I experienced one of the best spring breaks of my life; roadtripping down to Cali with 7 beautiful people. Never have I had such an enlightening time.

Perfect camaderie. Breaking in new chacos. Zero workouts. Zero sunburns. Breakfast at 10am.
Catch on the beach. Failed hot tub quests. Jumping into Lake Shasta in 82 degree weather. Bread bowls. Two dynamic Cali sunsets. Cuddling under shooting stars. Vitamin D. New freckles. Akon "Beautiful." Dancing around NCMOs. Head massages. PB&J "crepes" over a campfire.

Heaven.

Note of the Day: My SMC makes ridiculously good cookies.

one fine wire

I remember a time, when my balance was fine, I was just walking on one fine wire . . .

I do. I do feel like I'm walking on a fine wire. But now. Now some of my balance has returned for the moment. I have closed the door on another tough quarter, have finished more than half of my time as 1e's PA, and have come to the brink of only 40 more weeks until I get to wreak havoc in Washington with my nursing license.

Tomorrow is a start.
Start 1: 21.
Start 2: WOC09 with 7 amazing people. Washington Oregon California. 8 days.
Start 3: Beginning to wrap my mind around 2nd year PA. It's hard for me to think about the possibility of a new floor, new staff, and holding this responsibility for another year.
Start 4: You'll have to guess. [said as mysteriously as possible in order to confuse my loyal blog followers as much as possible).

Note of the Day: From experiencing this last finals week, I have found that I have the ability to study without stopping for 11 hours straight.

bah.

You spin my head . . . . what do I do?

The week ahead of me = stomach ulcers. My head, spinning. Finals. Trying to find time to keep running. Trying to remember to do crunches before bed. Drowning in a course I unfondly call "nursing everything." Respiratory system, endocrine system, millions of medications, cardiology, acid/base balances. bah.

And my head still spins. From you. What am I supposed to think?

Now: Stepping away from my 100 slide powerpoint on the endocrine system. Stepping away from a presentation on the ethical stipulations of apathy. Stepping away from a philosophical essay on faith and science. Going for a 45 minute break to sweat my troubles away. And then shower. Glorious, yes?

Stilling spinning . . .

Note of the Day: Jai ho.

a Fiore, flowery, day

After pretending to be a Nike model, a few icy laps around Greenlake, a bowl of jalapeno "stoup," and Fiore's dirty morning glory chai:

I sit before an analytical essay about fallacious arguments, an empty tin of altoids, and a (finally) sun-streaked Caffe Fiore; my coffee house of choice (despite increasingly priced espresso shots).

Note of the Day: If you wake me up out of a dead sleep at 2am, and if you asked me for $$, I would probably give it to you. Don't try it please.

Most likely to . . . round 2

- Drink a harley gang under the table.
- Date a SPU professor after graduation.
- Date someone who is married.
- Marry a famous athlete.

Thank you, Ashton staff . . .

Note of the Day: Ravi Shankar's 24 min piece from his show in San Francisco is worth the long listen.

1e/1w

Went to sleep last night to yogi ginger tea.
Rolled out of bed this morning to kona coffee and chocolate chip/banana pancakes, made by the lovely miss amy king and myself. 1st east and 1st west eventually crawled to the pancake makers with their outstretched plates and sleepy faces. 25 happy girls, 25 thank yous, 2 happy PAs . . .

You don't get much better than 1e and 1w sister-floor-amazingness.

Note of the Day: 21 in 28.

6 miles later.

I could barely keep my eyes open in UCOR. Discussing philosophy after I had already been awake for 7.5 hours is not condusive to being alert. However, since I was modeling my sweet, spandex pants, I was forced to continue with my plan to run in the gym.

I started . . . and 6 miles later . . . I finished.

It's like clockwork. Everytime I almost don't work out, but actually do in fact end up working out, I run more than I plan to. Other times, when I tell myself I'm gonna run 10 miles; in reality I run 2.

And now I sit, completely exhausted, listening to Ryan Adams, peeking out at the blue sky that I know is reflecting on an almost waveless Lake Union. On days like this, I wish I could walk down to the shellhouse with 4 other buddies, ask coach if we can borrow the Cherry, and head out for a callous-forming-finger-ripping row. When I see days like this, remember how sweet racing season is, and hear the buzz of the ergs as I walk past Royal Brougham . . . . I miss rowing. But then I remember the early mornings, and vomit-inducing erg tests. This I don't miss.

The time has come to shower and turn myself into a professional looking college student who gets the empowering task of hosting prospective PAs as they sit and sweat themselves into a nervous puddle.

Note of the Day: The needle in a hep lock is small. And doesn't really look like a needle. Be careful when you try to pull one out of a patient's arm.