13 posts tagged “2008”

I can't post the years after this.... since, by a freak of nature, or rather this computer, I lost the subsequent playlists when I was copying and pasting. I hate myself right now, but in a few weeks I'll probably find a way to compile them all over again.

High School (Note: This is where it gets worse):

1. The Dope Show by Marilyn Manson
2. Santeria by Sublime
3. 素敵だね by Rikki
4. Buddy Holly by Weezer
5. The Distance by Cake
6. Head Over Heels by Tears For Fears
   
7. D'yer Mak'er by Led Zeppelin
8. I Will Survive by Cake
9. Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger by Daft Punk
   
10. Never There by Cake 
11. Everything by Lifehouse
12. Crazy On You by Heart
13. La Llorona by Chavela Vargas
14. Thank You by Dido
15. Mad World by Gary Jules
16. Light My Fire by The Doors
17. Paradise City by Guns N Roses
18. Dock Of The Bay by Otis Redding
    
19. Because by The Beatles
20. Schism by Tool
21. Lightning Crashes by Live
22. Ain't No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell
23. You Got Me by The Roots
24. Killing Me Softly by The Fugees
25. Big Poppa by Notorious B.I.G.
26. Karma Police by Radiohead
    
27. Gin And Juice by Snoop Doggy Dog
28. California Love by 2Pac & Dr. Dre
29. Thugz Mansion (Acoustic) by 2Pac feat. Nas
30. Enter Sandman by Metallica
31. Take Me Out by Franz Ferdinand
32. Virtual Insanity by Jamiroquai
33. No Such Thing by John Mayer
34. Eternal Flame by The Bangles
35. Father Of Mine by Everclear
36. Inside Out by Eve 6
37. Closing Time by Semisonic
38. Bittersweet Symphony by The Verve
39. Freshmen by The Verve Pipe
40. If You Could Only See by Tonic
41. Say My Name by Destiny's Child
42. In The Meantime by Spacehog
43. Teenage Dirtbag by Wheatus
44. Lola by The Kinks
45. Jane Says by Jane's Addiction
46. Dammit by Blink 182
47. To Be With You by Mr. Big
    
48. Fat Lip by Sum 41
49. Under The Bridge by The Red Hot Chili Peppers
50. Scar Tissue by The Red Hot Chili Peppers
51. Paranoid Android by Radiohead
52. Guerilla Radio by Rage Against The Machine
    

Middle School Years:

1. Satellite by Dave Matthews Band
2. Down by 311
   
3. Good Riddance by Green Day
4. This Is How We Do It by Montell Jordan
5. Danse Macabre by Camille Saint-Saens
   
6. Crossroads by Bone Thugs n' Harmony
7. Hook by Blues Traveler
8. Celebrity Skin by Hole
   
9. Transcendental Studies for Piano by Franz Liszt [note: No. 4]
   
10. Take A Bow by Madonna
11. Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin
12. Ironic by Alanis Morrisette
    
13. Black Hole Sun by Soundgarden
14. Don't Look Back In Anger by Oasis
    
15. Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd
    
16. Sleep To Dream by Fiona Apple
17. Kashmir by Led Zeppelin
18. You Oughta Know by Alanis Morrisette
    
19. No Rain by Blind Melon
20. Wonderwall by Oasis
    
21. Swallowed by Bush
22. Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana
23. Everlong by The Foo Fighters
24. Creep by Radiohead
25. Tonight, Tonight by The Smashing Pumpkins
26. Spiderwebs by No Doubt
27. Zombie by The Cranberries
28. Lovefool by The Cardigans
29. Only Happy When It Rains by Garbage
30. Adia by Sarah McLachlan
31. Never Let You Go by Third Eye Blind
    

I can't remember a time, even when I was a child, when I wasn't in love with music. I loved playing instruments, singing, and listening to different types of it -- the good, the bad, the ugly. I loved it all. Of all these songs I've heard, or played through my lifetime the ones that stand out as being most vivid are those associated with certain memories of people/events. I decided one week I'd try to piece together playlists of what I used to listen to... The week turned into a few weeks, and has finally come to fruition (It's sad what I do with my free time, huh?). Every song here, has at least one story and is pretty characteristic of the phases I went/am going through.

If anyone else reads this, I'd really love to see what you throw together for your own playlist. I had to split this up into a few posts because it was too massive...

The Playlist for the first 11 years of my life, in no particular order (note: most of these were before the era of music videos, so excuse the ones YouTube has attached to them):

1. Ventura Highway by America
2. Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton
3. The Greatest Love of All by Whitney Houston
4. Kahit Habang Buhay by Smokey Mountain
5. Kailan by Geneva Cruz
6. Hindi Kita Malilimutan by Basil Valdez
7. Something Stupid by Frank & Nancy Sinatra
8. Longest Time by Billy Joel
9. Bennie and the Jets by Elton John
10. Mirroirs (Five Pieces for Piano) by Maurice Ravel [note: No. 4]
    
11. Hotel California by The Eagles
12. Tiny Dancer by Elton John
13. How Deep Is Your Love by The Bee Gees
14. Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da by The Beatles
15. Wouldn't It Be Nice? by the Beach Boys
16. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
17. Thriller by Michael Jackson
18. Make It With You by Bread
19. Tonight, Tonight, Tonight by Genesis
20. You Can Cal Me Al by Paul Simon
21. Shout by Tears for Fears

This is a cross-post from a Facebook I had read via one of my friends. Below is a post (and response) from a craigslist user in search of her 'perfect man.'

From Craigslist.org:

What am I doing wrong?

“Okay, I’m tired of beating around the bush. I’m a beautiful
(spectacularly beautiful) 25 year old girl. I’m articulate and classy.
I’m not from New York. I’m looking to get married to a guy who makes at
least half a million a year. I know how that sounds, but keep in mind
that a million a year is middle class in New York City, so I don’t think
I’m overreaching at all.

Are there any guys who make 500K or more on this board? Any wives? Could
you send me some tips? I dated a business man who makes average around
200 - 250. But that’s where I seem to hit a roadblock. 250,000 won’t get
me to central park west. I know a woman in my yoga class who was married
to an investment banker and lives in Tribeca, and she’s not as pretty as
I am, nor is she a great genius. So what is she doing right? How do I
get to her level?

Here are my questions specifically:

- Where do you single rich men hang out? Give me specifics- bars,
restaurants, gyms

-What are you looking for in a mate? Be honest guys, you won’t hurt my
feelings

-Is there an age range I should be targeting (I’m 25)?

- Why are some of the women living lavish lifestyles on the upper east
side so plain? I’ve seen really ‘plain jane’ boring types who have
nothing to offer married to incredibly wealthy guys. I’ve seen drop dead
gorgeous girls in singles bars in the east village. What’s the story
there?

- Jobs I should look out for? Everyone knows - lawyer, investment
banker, doctor. How much do those guys really make? And where do they
hang out? Where do the hedge fund guys hang out?

- How you decide marriage vs. just a girlfriend? I am looking for
MARRIAGE ONLY

Please hold your insults - I’m putting myself out there in an honest
way. Most beautiful women are superficial; at least I’m being up front
about it. I wouldn’t be searching for these kind of guys if I wasn’t
able to match them - in looks, culture, sophistication, and keeping a
nice home and hearth.”

The response: 

“Dear Pers-431649184:

I read your posting with great interest and have thought meaningfully
about your dilemma. I offer the following analysis of your predicament.
Firstly, I’m not wasting your time, I qualify as a guy who fits your
bill; that is I make more than $500K per year. That said here’s how I
see it.

Your offer, from the prospective of a guy like me, is plain and simple a
crappy business deal. Here’s why. Cutting through all the B.S., what you
suggest is a simple trade: you bring your looks to the party and I bring
my money. Fine, simple. But here’s the rub, your looks will fade and my
money will likely continue into perpetuity…in fact, it is very likely
that my income increases but it is an absolute certainty that you won’t
be getting any more beautiful!

So, in economic terms you are a depreciating asset and I am an earning
asset. Not only are you a depreciating asset, your depreciation
accelerates! Let me explain, you’re 25 now and will likely stay pretty
hot for the next 5 years, but less so each year. Then the fade begins in
earnest. By 35 stick a fork in you!

So in Wall Street terms, we would call you a trading position, not a buy
and hold…hence the rub…marriage. It doesn’t make good business sense
to “buy you” (which is what you’re asking) so I’d rather lease. In case
you think I’m being cruel, I would say the following. If my money were
to go away, so would you, so when your beauty fades I need an out. It’s
as simple as that. So a deal that makes sense is dating, not marriage.

Separately, I was taught early in my career about efficient markets. So,
I wonder why a girl as “articulate, classy and spectacularly beautiful”
as you has been unable to find your sugar daddy. I find it hard to
believe that if you are as gorgeous as you say you are that the $500K
hasn’t found you, if not only for a tryout.

By the way, you could always find a way to make your own money and then
we wouldn’t need to have this difficult conversation.

With all that said, I must say you’re going about it the right way.
Classic “pump and dump.” I hope this is helpful, and if you want to enter into some sort of lease, let me know.”

My friend N is to be married in a few months, and during this past week she had arranged for all of her bridesmaids to go out for a day at the spa. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed the first couple of hours of it -- long massages, facial treatments (whose components could've included manure and eye of newt -- but you don't care because it feels buttery on your skin), and soaking in hot tubs filled with soaps and moisturizers. I'm not what I'd call a 'girly-girl' but I was definitely enjoying the grass on the other side that day.

The last things on the tour-de-spa were manicures and pedicures. Now, I can't make my mind up about acrylic nails. They look beautiful on people whose hands suit them. But I can't help but think in the back of my head, that every little bacteria in the world is rejoicing at the party that's just about to take place under what's-her-face's nails. Much like a schizophrenic, the image in my mind starts to muddle the original image of long pristinely kept nails into that of talons akin to most birds of prey. I often start to think about a cashier I once met while shopping who could barely push the buttons on the register because of the length of her acrylic nails.

Bridezilla, that day, had decided we were all going to get the same French-tipped acrylic manicure. When I had come to my senses, after my short daydream about the dark beyond, I had attempted to stave her wish off by saying, "You know, I've got work tomorrow and they don't really allow these...". "Oh COME ON! You'll ruin the group dynamic -- just get it done, and in a few days if people say something to you at work, just go somewhere and get them taken off. Simple as that." she pleaded.

Rather than imaging her smiting me with her bride-to-be wrath, I ceded to my fate and let it be done. The entire process took about 30 minutes from start to finish. Most of the time, I was talking to the little Vietnamese woman (who was diligently working on my hands) about traveling to Vietnam and other parts of southeast Asia. By the end of our conversation, I had my brand new implements of doom applied to my fingernails and N was clapping and squealing in delight.

The next 24 hours were like slow torture.

Every hand hygiene lesson that I'd sat through during my lifetime was flashing through my head. For what ever reason, this made me sweat a little. As I was on my way into work that day, I started sweating a little at the thought -- slightly paranoid that every other nurse I'd encounter on the train was going to be staring at these things on my fingers. I felt like I had to hide them from the paranoia I'd built up. Another nurse had boarded the train just after I did, and as she glossed through her morning paper I noticed that she too had acrylic nails. The thought was slightly comforting, I thought to myself, "Maybe no one will notice I have them at all."

At work, I felt like moron. All day long, I'd have difficulty doing this or that because of my claws. Typing was ridiculous -- it was a 30 minute sojourn of typing and backspacing all the mistakes I'd made because of all the sliding my fingers were doing because of these little acrylic pieces-of-shit. Drawing blood was even out of the question; I'd stick someone three or four times just to get what I normally could've in one just because I couldn't really hold the needle properly or stick around  or under my nails. By the end of the day I was resolved to get them taken off as soon as I could muster the strength and courage to find a nail place that would do so.

I imagined that a place that does nails is filled with nothing but a relaxing atmosphere where you can soak your hands and feet and forget your worries. Truth be told, I think the experience is just the opposite. As I entered the nail place I'd found next to the trusty gas station, I was greeted by dozens of masked women and men. Strangely enough, what seemed like an awkward entrance reminded me of my days in Japan where almost everyone wore the mask to protect you from their colds or from inhaling all the pollution. At the nail place, I couldn't figure out why they were being used. Too many nail shavings flying off peoples hands and feet maybe?

A small Asian man ushered me to his nail station and after I had told him, dramatically might I add, why I could no longer stand the acrylic nails he began clipping them off. It wasn't enough that they just snapped off however. In order to peel the acrylic from my nails, he had to wedge another unglazed acrylic nail between my own and the layer of sheet rock that had formed on top of it. The first one wasn't so bad -- it's what you'd expect having your fingernails pulled out of their 'sockets' feels like. 9 more fingers later and I was about to cry from the war-torn state my fingers appeared to be in. At that point, he whipped out and revved a small electric sander (which I imagined would be fit for electrical or more carpentry uses...) and took to my weathered nails with it. Fifteen minutes of jaw-grinding action later and he was applying a glossy shellack and the color nail polish I had thankfully remembered to bring. And so ended my first, and last, experience with acrylic nails.

I've always loved meeting new people. Lately though, I've realized that a lot of the people I meet (mainly girls) just aren't comfortable in their own skin. I sometimes hang out with a bunch of friends who jokingly like to call themselves the "jetset mafia" -- a collection of 20-something single and successful girls living in Washington D.C.. All of the girls are intelligent, gorgeous, and the kind of person any guy should be pleased to take home and later introduce to their parents.

You'd think that in this bunch of ridiculously smart, glamorous, and attractive girls that there would be at least one that just lets it all hang out and doesn't worry about "how things might look" to people on the outside.

Some fly in and out of relationships left and right always wondering where each went wrong, and what they can do to grow from the experience.

I think part of the reason these girls relationships don't last lies in the way some girls approach the whole dating process altogether. I don't know if it's just my friends, but I notice they morph into these people I don't know (e.g. -- "girl-zillas") when they decide to get together with a guy. They pretend to take on the guys interests (even if they're not interested in the same things themselves) and play at being these people they just aren't.

At the crux of every chick flick ever made is the idea that you just can't start and continue a successful relationship based on a lie.

I'm the kind of girl that can't hide the fact that I don't know what's going on at most sports games ending in '-ball.' But, the saving grace about me is that I get into games when I'm with people that love it enough to teach me about them. I fell in love with and learned about baseball because I chose to go to one game with some people while I was in Japan. Before then, I knew nothing about how it was played and didn't actually have much of a love for it. Now, I go to Nats games here in the U.S. with friends and am even a little sad that the season actually ends.

I don't think that you always have to have a ton of things in common with guys to 'work it out,' but I do think that you at least have to open your mind to them. Be honest with them, and with yourself. Don't tell a guy you like tofurkey and animals if you don't -- you'll just be miserable keeping up the charade and end up resenting him and yourself.

Let someone fall in love with who you really are; chances are, that person is much cooler than the one you're pretending to be.

My flight was a greulling 13 hours from Washington　D.C. (but not really Washington D.C. -- IAD to be exact) to Tokyo. The flight was so fantastic that I decided never to fly United again on an international flight. Ever.

The upside after being crammed into a Boeing airliner for 13 hours, was that my luggage arrived in Tokyo (for the first time) unscathed. Picked the bags up, grabbed my sim card, lost some money at the exchange counter and took the Narita Express train into Ueno.

You just can`t beat the train rides in Japan -- there may have been crappy weather, but the train ride was as smooth as a baby`s butt. It`s no wonder that almost 90% of the people I see here are asleep on the subway! While in the mix of the Ueno rush, I decided to just break down and pay for a cab to take me to the hostel that I was staying at. 1,700 yen later, I was there. Ridiculous baggage in hand and on my back, I checked in and quickly took a shower.

I met a girl that night from Singapore that I ended up hanging out with the next day. We hit up the temple at Harajuku and grabbed some photos of different weddings going on that weekend.

We headed to Roppongi for some R&R afterwards and met up with a Japanese friend of mine that I had met in the states and had a mini Hanami with papanashi and aisu (don`t even ask me how to spell this in katakana!).

 Since then, I layzed around in Tokyo and made the trip out to Niigata to the graduate school I applied to. I had arranged to visit for two days and H-san sent me back a minute by minute schedule of where I would be. We had lunch first at the shokudo (cafeteria) and she showed me to some of the MBA classes. After watching some of the professors teach, I felt reassured that IUJ was really the place I wanted to be. A few more meetings with professors later, I headed back to the creepy little Hotel Okabe by the station and took a shower. H-san was also nice enough to set me up for dinner with two of the 2nd year MBA students, H and R. 

My dinner with H and R was fun, and perhaps the biggest reason I ended up having no doubts left about whether I`d enjoy studying at the university. Perhaps though the most convincing part for me, wasn`t the conversations about their experiences, but in observing the guys interactions with one another. It reminded me of how I interacted with my classmates during my undergraduate days...

Nursing, even when you`re still in school, is always a team effort. Often times, the comeraderie that bonds you to your classmates is the saving grace that determines whether or not one can make it through difficult times. I always thought that if went to graduate school, I`d want to go to a place where I felt like I wasn`t going to have to "go it alone." Looking at the two guys relationship with one another convinced me this was a school that had that quality.

I left the next day, with the good experience in my mind and managed to meet the guys again to say good bye after lunch. I headed to Morioka.

Morioka... was a really similar to Niigata in both temperature and character. The people were warm and friendly, and quick to help you if you looked lost. I arrived around 7pm. Tired and weary after 5 hours of shinkansen travel, I looked at the map to try to figure out where my hostel was and had no luck. I broke down again, and took a taxi to the corridor of the city where my hotel was. The "Seishonen Kaikan" looked like any other hostel, but a little empty. When I finally went in, I realized, it really was empty. I was their only guest! That alone, didn't bother me though -- I left my luggage and went on the hunt for hot food. After walking about 200 meters, I realized that this town I was in wasn't going to have anything spectacular. I went into the convenience store, and in broken Japanese, asked where the closest restaurant was. Another 150 meters later, there I was -- eating hayashi omuraisu alone, and a little scared. I think the only thing I hate about traveling alone is having to eat meals alone at a restaurant in small cities. In most large cities eating alone isn't a big deal, but in a small town -- all eyes are on you. Either way, I ate my meal and went on my merry way. I stopped to buy some detergent at what seemed like the Japanese version of a Super Wal-Mart, and made my mind up that I was going to do some laundry once I arrived at the hostel. 

Once there, I looked for the essentials -- bathroom, toilet, and laundry and realized that the times for me to use all (except the toilet) was over. Moreover, I realized that there was a curfew of 10pm... Not good when you're 23 and visiting friends you intend to go drinking with. I threw in the towel and decided I'd try to go to sleep... I wandered up to my room through dark corridors, devoid of people, and settled down in my smoky smelling bed. I thought I heard something moving around in the hallway so I went out to investigate -- nothing there. You can imagine though, what was going through my mind... There I was alone in this 500 bed hostel, laying in a smoky-smelling bed staring at the ceiling. I called my mom, who was also scared for me, and I was so convinced that a jigoku shoujo was going to come and make one of those devil deals with me. I looked at my Lonely Planet book and booked a hotel close to the station (a whopping 8000 yen the first night, and 6200 the second... adding to that my laundry bill of 7200... Ugh). There I stayed for the duration of my stay in Iwate. Soaking it up in a wonderful bath and laying in nice soft beds... Ahhh!

While I was there, I met up with a friend of mine and went drinking my second night. K-kun, his friend, and I talked over drinks and food at a local Morioka izakaya. One of the fun things about drinking at an izakaya is the amazing variety of weird foods you can find. I ate several things in the shape of balls and other assorted items one apparently typically drinks with alcoholic nomimono (drinks). We had jajamen as the main meal and then after more drinks, we made our way back to the station where we parted.

So, that's how I ended up here in Yokohama. Typing on a computer, doing some laundry, and waiting to meet up with a friend for dinner.

More to come later.

When I was a young(er) girl, I had dreamt of dashing guys making passionate love to me on a sandy beach... Yeah, right! But on a continued ridiculous note, I almost did dream of someone riding in on a white horse and carrying me away, and I think this 'fantasy' is what most girls dream of too.

Young girls (and even some women) dream of the guys that sweep you off of your feet -- that one guy that jumps through most all the hoops to make you happy. But for me that guy never came. What I got instead were a bunch of long drawn-out relationships involving emotional highs and lows riddled with drama that leaving me absolutely miserable. I just needed to grow up.

What I realized, after tons of loving and losing (and believe me -- I seriously did do a ton of it), was that I just needed to believe in my own happiness. I'd like to believe that this is what differentiates the women from the girls. Women are happy people that are just looking for another happy person to join the ride, while girls still search for happiness in another person.

Maybe it's the utterly hopeless romantic in me typing, but I believe good relationships are as rare and precious as diamonds. I've always believed that even though they might not always work out, they still have some value. Treasure the time you have with someone, treat them and every day you have together, as if it were the last.

MRSA

http://justmeon.vox.com/library/post/...

what cause MRSA? why r our patients coming down with this fearful virus/ bacteria? damn it... i heard that some pple are thinking that we, nurses, are spreading the MRSA to our patients! i am so angry! why would we want to do that?! *fume* com'on those whoever, lets all do a nasal swab and get us...

MRSA is a medical acronym for methicillin resistant staphylococcus aureus. It's one of the known "superbugs" that has emerged as a result of different bacterial mutations (likely in response to multiple antibiotic therapies to treat it). The hospital can send off cultures -- everything from sputum to urine -- to determine which site has been infected with MRSA. Treatment for it may come in the form of antibiotics, isolation rooms, and good old tender loving care.

Working in any setting -- you get patients with MRSA all the time; it's a fact of life that you have to gown up everytime you go into one of these patient's rooms. It may not seem like such a big deal, but after you've done it at least 40 times in a night, you can see how it gets annoying. This however, is the price we as nurses pay for not getting the bacteria all over our scrubs and spreading it to other individuals we come in contact with. With the frequency that we deal with patients who have MRSA and the not-so-full-proof barrier methods we use, most nurses and healthcare workers are likely carriers of MRSA.

Scary isn't it?

I don't doubt that if you swab tested the nostrils of every healthcare provider you knew, they'd likely be positive. For hospital politics though, staff aren't tested for it. Generally speaking though, individuals with healthy immune systems can live in harmony with MRSA and likely will never need to worry about it through their lifetime. Whether this means carriers who are non-symptomatic can't spread MRSA, I don't know.

Even if you attempted to place all the MRSA infected patients into one isolated unit it would still be difficult to stop its spread. Everything from the use of barrier techniques by the doctors/nurses/respiratory therapists to the way the room is cleaned isn't full proof. There are way too many factors to control and it's because of this that hospitals and community settings alike are having difficulty controlling the spread of MRSA.

So just relax, take a deep breath, and live with the idea that you may be living in harmony with a few superbacteria. So long as you are realtively healthy it should never be an issue -- your immune system will naturally protect you.