867-5309

at 4.00am today i am faced with the possible life altering decision to finish reading the final 23 pages of my current novel killing yourself to live or blog about my new onset love for a no-longer mysterious girl from the step-down unit on the 9th floor of the west tower hospital across the street. love prevails.

not only am i falling asleep here at work reading this book, but ive come to the sudden realization that after i finish it i'll have nothing left to read. no new material. granted, there are books on my shelf that i have told myself i'd like to re-read, but i dont think that's something that anyone actually ever does. if they tell you they've read the same book twice, chances are they're also the type of person to not let you know of a dangling booger. and that, for one, is not the type of friend a friend would like to have. so i am in no hurry to finish the book.

that being said, i was doing a little novel searching on the internet. i think im going with a jonathon ames book next. i'll have to get up to border's tomorrow so i can have something to read tomorrow night. the variety of solitaire games may seem endless, but i assure you that once you have lost and once you have won, they are all the exact same.

so onto this girl. when they decide a patient in the ER is going to stay at the hospital, part of my job is to assign them to a certain floor by calling the nurses on that floor and giving the patients information. not surprisingly, these nurses dont want patients. more patients equals more work. so naturally, most of them answer the phone in a complete bitchy voice and act as if reading this month's new issue of Allure magazine is more important than giving a gun shot victim a room to be medically treated in. but recently on my mission to book a patient to the step down unit, i came across a young, spunky voice that was nothing short of sexy. the kind that every middle aged american male hopes to be on the receiving end of one of those 800 numbers where you can meet live local girls. as far as they or i know, this could be absolutely true. we would never know, because just the thought that the person on the other end most likely has a whiskey drinking, 25 years of cigarette smokin' dude voice has kept any of us from calling.

i hereby pledge to give one of those numbers a call one night, for curiosity's sake and the sake of all mankind to never have another lonely tuesday night.

sometimes my imagination takes complete control over my mind. which is what happens when i talk to this girl. i think of all the possibilities that could expand from the fact that initially we just flirted a little bit on the phone. most likely i was trying to book a patient with a mental status change, although i cant be sure. if anything grew from our one-sided phone love, it might be nice to know one day exactly what that patient had. i could gather all the little grandchildren on family reunions and tell them that their grandma and grandpa met because of a clincally insane person. like i said, complete control over my mind and conscious thinking.

all in all, the conversations are a relief from the noise and the sleep that comes along with this job. maybe one day we will meet. but i almost hope we dont. i think i am more infatuated with the idea of this girl. which, when i really analyze my life, seems to be a recurrent 'problem' in my life.

i am going around the corner to rest and put my head down on the desk. i'll pretend as though i am trying to clean my shoes with alcohol pads, should anyone see me. this wouldnt be an awkward thing for my midnight 'coworkers' to stumble upon, as i have become quite known for being the weirdo to keep my shoes nice and white with alcohol wipes. and that suits me just fine.

gods gift to man

im going to travel into unsafe waters this morning, get a little intimate with you all. doesnt that sound wonderful.


i read that book that i posted in an earlier entry, average american male. at first, the plot seems pretty weak. in fact, there doesnt even appear to be a plot. a sex driven guy dates a future driven girl, and they end up breaking up before a marriage that the guy never even wanted in the first place. he then starts dating a new girl, who at first is everything that his ex girlfriend is not. but then, she follows the same path. and at the end, the guy knows its not going to get any better than that, so he decides to marry her. the overall theme being to settle for less. no guy is going to date an 18-24 year old horny girl his entire life. at some point, something has to be good enough.


anyway, this book has got me thinking a lot about my own perspective as a guy, and my point of view on women. i feel like this guy is too relatable. and im not sure if thats a good thing or a bad thing.


i suppose everyone has some sort of 'standards' [god i hate that word], but is it wrong that 90% of mine are sexual? the first thought that crosses my mind is how she is going to be in the sack. i mean, looking at any given 8 on a 10 point scale on any given day, she may be an 8 on looks, but she may then drop or add a point or two after the conclusion is made.


sometimes she has an insanely obnoxious voice that i know i wouldnt be able to get off to without the secret placement of ear plugs in the dark. sometimes its her laugh that wont take me past a first date. sometimes, an absolute 10 is sitting at a table across from me, until she turns her head 45º and the bone structure of her face goes hand in hand with that of caveman. im then convinced she's the descendant of some sort of slow-evolving neanderthal who never knew the difference between sex and sniffing squirrel shit.


which ironically is sort of admirable.

Accepting Responsibility is Mandatory

well, happy new year to you all. it's been a week, but i've been pretty busy with things no one would want to hear about if they just regained their sense of hearing after being deaf their entire life. so i didnt write about it either.

this past weekend though, i came to the next step of my probation process. i went to a camp called ARM in howell, which is like an alcohol/substance awareness program. 30 dudes packed into a cabin all there for similar traits of mip's, dui's, owi's and crashing cars into houses. while drunk. idiot. casey and tyler were there too, so we had a little advantage going into the camp knowing a couple people.

anyway, it wasnt anything like i expected. im picturing drill seargants just preaching and lecturing around the clock on cruise control, giving us the privelage of eating, sleeping, taking a shit... that sort of thing.

instead, it turned out to be a vacation. i never realized how unhappy i was with my life until i had a good time at a probationary camp. who knew. but the food was delicious, the 'lectures' were completely interactive, and the staff was pretty cool too. once you know the worst legal trouble a room full of 30 guys are in, it sorta breaks the ice for everyone expecting to have a bad time. we bs'ed a lot, smoked cigarrettes, and laughed at the big ol' night babysitter we had, fatty patty. we went on this rope course which was something i almost expected. for some reason, it seems like all camps can teach life lessons by having you cross a rope tied from tree to tree, or whatever the obstacle may be. it was pretty fun.

we had recovering addicts as guest speakers, which like the obstacle course was also another thing that was expected. probation likes to show you how bad your life could be if you continue down your path., like looking at an old black and white photo of the alcoholic black sheep of the family that your mother always warned you about.

overall, it was a great time and i wish i could spend another two weeks out there, with the exception of being able to mingle with the lady group. i hated everything about the ride home. to be back in the real world. back to work and sleep. back to a little thing i call my life. this is when it really dawns on me that there are changes i need to make in order to make myself a happier, more successful person. and maybe that was the point of the camp all along. maybe it was to keep us all sober for the weekend. or maybe it was something beyond my comprehension, such as self discipline, trust, and accepting responsibilities.

impossibilities has 5 i's.