SPF: Rainbows

Color, originally uploaded by scoobers1.

This week Miss Kristine said she would like us to show her a rainbow.

This rainbow sits, neglected, on the easel in my dining room. It beckons but I simply ignore it since the last disaster. When I get over the hideousness of the thing I created I shall give it another shot. Until then, the easel, the palette... my rainbow of colors shall remain an accent piece, unused.

Since reading the subject of this week's assignment, I have a song stuck in my head and it will not go away. It's not completely unrelated because the original version does mention rainbows. However, it's the angry version that I have stuck in my mind, for some reason.
Remember those clapping games we girls used to play at recess?
Bo-Bo-Ski-Watten-Tatten? Miss Mary Mack? Miss Lucy (had a steamboat)? Yes, I know you are all singing them in your heads now. You're welcome.

We used to sing one at the YMCA that went something like this:

Say-Say oh play mate
Come out and play with me.
And bring your dollies three,
Climb up my apple tree.
Slide down my rainbow,
Into my cellar door,
And we'll be jolly friends
Forever more. More. One, two, three, four!

We used to follow it up with this little ditty,

Say say oh enemy
Come out and fight with me
And bring your pistols three
Climb up my thorny tree

Slide down my razor blade
Into my dungeon door
And we'll be enemies
Forevermore - More - More, One, two, three, four!

Nice, eh? Did you play?

What a sexy... blister you have!

My less than sexy, unmanicured, flakey, blistery foot.

I went to the Mill Avenue Borders again tonight to do some shopping. Thinking the H.P. guy would be there, I was hoping he would autograph my copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban, for shits n' giggles. He was not there. A girl who kind of looked like a red-haired version of him helped me instead.
Anyway, after cruising around and picking out several books (see Jennsylvania for this little gem), I stopped by the cafe to pick up a latte. As I was handing the girl behind the counter my card, a strange man sidled up beside me, so close that he was touching my arm. Some people seriously have no sense of personal space. I moved over a bit to give him some room and took my card and receipt from the girl. Again, he was touching me. Then in a half whisper he said, "I'm sorry. I was looking at your feet. So small. Pretty." UGH! Completely creeped out, I side-stepped away from him again. He said, looking down at me feet, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Foot fetish... ", and then something garbled and trailed off. At this point the girl behind the counter, hearing this, tripped over something and redirected his attention to her. I used this as my get-away. Armed with scalding hot latte in one hand and my keys in another, I dashed towards the door, eying that guy the whole time.
I have never been so nervous walking to my car and all the way there the blister on my foot was screaming, "How do you like me now, FREAK?!"

One Down...

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, originally uploaded by scoobers1.

I finished book one tonight and decided to head over to Borders for The Chamber of Secrets and a latte. At the counter, the guy (who, in all honesty, LOOKED like H.P. himself) called me a late bloomer. True enough.
I started reading Sorcerer's Stone in 2002, when I lived in Texas, and decided to give it another shot. I started reading last Wednesday, so it took me a week to read it. Well, it took me five years and one week to read it.

Hopefully, I will make better time on this one and I will be back to Borders to buy book three before 2012.

Monsoon, Come Hither!

Dust Storm, originally uploaded by scoobers1.

Getting ready for work, I took a shower and could not dry off, was sweating despite the AC set at 70 and wished I had turned the water to COLD. A beep and a ticker flashed across the bottom of the evening news. The National weather service has issued a severe thunderstorm warning. Yay!
I got in my car and the temperature registered 107 degrees.
There was a red wall of dust headed my way and I have sand in my eyes and nostrils.

So, weather woman, you say the monsoons are coming. Day after day the dew point creeps closer and closer to the real thing. You say we need three consecutive days at a specific dew point to get there but each day on what should be day three, we start back at square one. Drat!
Half of the Arizona desert rose into the atmosphere last night and was followed by a sad attempt at a rain storm. The lightening from the 12th floor was impressive. I wish I had my camera.
When I left work in the morning, the sun burned out my retinas and I was dripping with sweat again. When I got to my car I could barely see through the mud on my windshield.

What happened to the deluge that we were threatened with?

That's it, weather woman. If I want it done right, I will do it myself!

I will do a rain dance! I will play a rain stick! I will pray to the Rain Gods. Consult a rain-maker...

I WILL WASH MY CAR!

My Childhood Home

Me, Laura & Christine, in front of our house

We moved from Illinois to Tucson, Arizona in the summer of 1976, when I turned three years old. Grandma Mary, my mom's mom, had lived there for a few years and we stayed with her until my parents bought the three bedroom house on Towner Street.

Turning '3' at Gramma Mary's House

Exercises with Gramma

The Interior

Mommy and Daddy made a pretty, cozy, 1970's home. Each room was painted a different color that was no doubt inspired by the times. We had a lime green living room; a yellow kitchen with an orange vinyl diner booth; yellow, pink and orange bedrooms; and a bathroom wallpapered in bamboo with orange beaded window treatments. The best thing about the bathroom, hands down, was the toilet seat cover that was the color of golden-rod with a picture of an owl on the inside lid. My mom collected owls at the time and they were everywhere! We used to play 'Bloody Mary' in the bathroom mirror with the lights off. We also used it to make 'The Haunted House of Horrors', where we tape recorded SCARY sounds and screams, then guide one another through.

Carving Pumpkins

That's me in The Bamboo Bathroom

Despite disciplinary actions, my sisters and I were notorious for leaving chewed gum on tables, not putting our dishes away and spilling various dark juices just about everywhere, including behind end tables and couches. In order to protect the carpeting we had large, shag area rugs in the colors of rust-brown and lime green. Lime green was apparently a popular shade back then.
We were not a family that ate at the dinner table. Instead, we would all park ourselves in front of the television to watch holiday claymation shows and the annual broadcast of 'The Wizard of Oz'. My parents & Grandma Marcy sat in their respective recliners and the girls on the shag carpets with our TV trays.
Grandma Marcy, my dad's mom, used to fly out during the fall and we got to keep her all through the holidays! She was an expert crocheter, UNO player, puzzler and cookie maker. Peanut butter and "Melting Moments" were her forte, as I recall. After my parents bought their own chairs, she had dibs on the olive green, rocking recliner with the vibrating back massager. We used to sit in her lap and she'd do "the spider" and we'd play with the "worms" on her hands. I loved rocking in that chair with her.

Christine and Gramma Marcy in the chair

My dad and us in the chair

Gramma Marcy in the kitchen

We were left in Gramma Marcy's charge when my parents went to work. Me and my sisters would stand on the couch in the front window and wave to my parents when they left in the morning. The big blue Chevy Impala would back down the driveway, pull out into the street and they would honk at us waving, smiling kids. Every morning she would have breakfast on the table. To my mother's disdain, Gramma would pour our cereal, sprinkle the sugar and pour the milk. She would also pick up after us, make our beds and give us pretty much what we wanted. She spoiled us rotten and made us lazier children, in the eyes of my mom. Don't get me wrong, Gramma could put her foot down when she needed to but this is how I choose to remember it.
Our dining room & living room have hosted many holiday meals, birthday parties and sleep overs. They have doubled as a stage for dance routines, plays, magic shows and housed blanket forts. Our dining room table was where we would play Trivia and help Gramma with her puzzles.

The Nativity Scene, 1978

Birthday Sleep-over, 1985

Our bedroom saw many changes through childhood and adolescence. Laura, being the oldest, had her own room (the pink one). Christine and I shared. It was a love-hate relationship between two girls, only eleven months apart. My parents painted it yellow and decorated it in a Raggedy Ann motif. There were two poodle lamps that changed colors whenever the walls got a new coat of paint.
I recall a few broken windows (I'll have to ask C about the details, but there was a rubber alligator involved), playing tennis with apples against the wall and a Bandaid that stayed stuck to the ceiling for at least 10 years.

Our room.

Laura moved out after high school and Christine and I immediately moved into separate rooms. This didn't last very long and crisis struck the household when Laura decided to move back in. There was no way either of us were giving up our own room. The solution? We moved all three beds into one room and everything else to the other, dubbed 'the hole'. This was where I sat to listen to music and do my homework in High School. It was also where most of my friends snuck in to visit 'after hours'. The arrangement worked out pretty well and we lived this way in relative harmony until Laura got married and moved out. I was so sad that day. I laid on the couch in 'the hole' and cried. I was sad because she wasn't just moving out, she was moving to California. My big sister would be so far away.
But, just like everything else, life moved on and Christine and I had our rooms back.

Our Backyard
Our backyard was a haven for little kids. The tree house was its best feature. My sisters and friends played up there and in the sandbox beneath it, slid down the 'fireman's pole' and pushed each other on the swing. The mulberry tree that it lived in would shed its leaves every fall. We would rake them up and jump in them until they were spread over the yard again. Once, Christine was running in the tree house and fell through the trap door (see 'Walking Catastropies' picture below).

Us Three In the Tree

Daddy also put up a swing set for us. This was not your average backyard, chinsey, plastic swing-set. It was big, heavy, metal and looked like something you'd find in a school playground. Or maybe I was just little and it seemed big. Anyway, one day, I decided I wanted to swing by my legs from the very top. Of course, down I came, face first. It's amazing that, to this day, I have not broken my head or any bones (*knocking on wood right now*). Again... see "Walking Catastropies" picture below.
I believe that Laura got beamed in the chin with a soccer ball. Just look at us. Is it really less stressful to have three girls rather than three boys? I wonder.

"Walking Catastrophies"

When we first moved in, there was no pool and would walk to Ft. Lowell Park to swim in the community pool. Later, my parents installed an above ground swimming pool in the shape of a circle. At birthday parties, my sister and friends would all swim in the same direction to make a whirlpool and then let the water carry us around and watch whatever dirt/grass/bugs there were gather in the center. Marco Polo was also a favorite past time but the 'fish out of water' part was a bit difficult. I recall, a few times, standing on that teetery white ledge and toppling over onto to the grass/gravel and laughing the whole time.

In the pool. In Daddy's socks.

Warming up in Gramma's afghan.

The yard started off pretty barren. Lots of gravel, dirt, prickly pear. My parents worked hard to make it look lovely and inviting. My mom has always had a way with Things Green and produced a wonderful garden. She had a grapevine, that yielded laundry baskets full. We harvested olives from the trees in the front yard. Strawberries, tomatoes, watermelons were some of my favorite things. She also grew things I did not particularly like to eat; like dill, zucchini and cauliflower. Check this out:

The Green Thumb, My Mom

During my teenage years, certain friends and I would be overcome by springtime and find it impossible to stay at school. We would come back home after lunch, swim in the pool and sunbathe on the roof. By that time, the mulberry tree had died and the treehouse taken down. I remembered I cried the day my dad took a chainsaw to it, telling us it was just unsafe and unsightly to keep. New trees went up in its place and have since grown into canopies that give us shade when we sit outside, watch basketball games and have BBQ's.

I guess that I am lucky because my parents still live in the same house that me and my sisters grew up in. Even now, when I visit and sleep in my room (now the sewing room) I feel the comfort I did as a kid. I hear the rain on the roof, the click the heater makes when it turns on in the middle of the night or the smell of the swamp cooler. The door way where we marked everybody's height through the years (family, friends, boyfriends, etc.) is still there and is the only part of the wall by the kitchen that did not get a new coat of paint during the remodel. Thanks, Mommy and Daddy.

The house looks a bit different now but continues to overflow with new memories. It still has the same red fence, two big olive trees and gravel driveway out front. Now, my parents wave as I drive away. I honk my horn, wave back and tear up a little each time I go.


*****



*** If you want to participate, please visit Owlhaven, and leave a link to your post. I'd love to learn about the childhood homes that shaped who you are today.

SPF: My Drawers

YOUR SPF ASSIGNMENT: July 20th, 2007

Your silverware drawer.

No cheating and cleaning it out. AS IS. BONUS POINTS FOR THE MESSIEST MOST UNORGANIZED. lol. I dig this game.


For some reason, Kristine at Random and Odd wants to see our silverware drawers. I get no points for this one because this is the ONE drawer in my house where you can actually find what you need. Cheese spreader... check! Wine cork... check! Corn on the cob spears... check!


Happy SPF. Did you play?

Your Childhood Home

Mary, over at Owlhaven, is hosting a blog carnival this Friday (July 20th), in which she is encouraging bloggers to write about their childhood homes and the memories they invoke. If you'd like to participate, click on the button above and join in!

A Great Week

My Old Friend, originally uploaded by scoobers1.

Last week was a great week. I turned 34, got to go to Vegas for the first time, visited with a friend I have not seen in 10 years and spent a few days with the family. How much better can life get?
Vegas was a blast. It was everything that I thought it would be and I am definitely planning on going back.
The day after we got back, I jumped in the car, picked up my niece and headed down to Tucson for a couple of days. Pretty great birthday-weekend, if you ask me.
Thirty four is not such a bad number. It's when I hit 35, my mid-thirties, that I may start to panic a bit. My friend's mom, Sandi, sent me an email last night and told me that she had seen the pictures Jenni took while she was visiting Tucson. She was shocked to see that I am 'all growed up', 'a grown woman'.
Sandi, you are not nearly as in shock as I am. I still see, in my sister, that little girl from way back when and am a little fazed when I think of the two of us as 'adults'.
Seeing Jenni as a wife and a mother blew me away. She is so grounded, mature and such a good mom but I still see my old friend, who came to every one of my birthday parties, in there.
Another reality check? It was brought to my attention that my 20 year HS reunion is coming up in 4 years!
My niece will be a TEENAGER in one year.
Time goes by so fast. I can only hope that I am spending it well and that everything will continue to fall into place.

Tagged with a Music Meme...

Little Pink Houses for You and Me

... and feeling nostalgic!

First of all, I had to look up the word, "meme":

meme (mēm)
n.

A unit of cultural information, such as a cultural practice or idea, that is transmitted verbally or by repeated action from one mind to another.

I'm not sure if this definition covers what is going on when one 'tags' another with a blog post but here it is anyway.

1. Name between 5 & 10 songs that have made an impact on your life. I'll leave it up to you to decide how many you wish to describe.
2. Pass it onto five other people with a link back to your own post and this one as the original.

Only ten?! Where do I even begin? ok... I know... Memories. Most of the songs that cause an emotional response, of some sort, have a memory attached to them. Funny how most of the songs are from days long gone. I tell you... they just don't make music like they used to. Is that the truth or does that mean I'm old now?
Here are some of the songs that can still bring me back to the moment:

• "Comfortably Numb" by Pink Floyd: This has always been one of those songs I could listen to over and over on my headphones. Some how it makes me feel just that... comfortably numb. Memory association with this one... we camped out in the mountains and I could hear this song echoing through the darkness. Perfect.
  
• "Yesterday" by The Beatles: My friends and I were influenced early by 'Ch's' dad, 'GWM'. He was a Beatles fanatic and was hell bent on turning us into fans too. He succeeded. We would sit on her living room floor after school and play his records. Sentimental, emotional teens we were. We laid in the middle of the floor and sang this again and again, sometimes tearing up. Oh... what we thought we knew about "yesterday" back then. If only I could have a word with those girls.
  
• "Love Song" by Tesla: I remember the very first time I heard this song. We were sitting in geometry class in HS. 'Bill Sam' handed me his Walkman and told me to listen. I fell in love with the song right there during the guitar intro. It has remained one of my all time favorites and has become my personal ballad of late.
  
• "Hysteria" by Def Leppard: There are so many years and people associated with this one but if any one song could transport me back to a specific time and place, this is it. It was graduation night and my ex-boyfriend and I went back to the football field for one last time in the middle of the night. He brought his radio with him and played "Hysteria". We cried and danced on the field knowing our high school days were over. I'm still a major Def Leppard fan and went to the concert last year. We are planning on going to the September 2007 one, as well and I can't wait!
  
• "My Old Friend" by Tim McGraw: This is a fairly new song, but in keeping with the nostalgic flow of this post, I will tell you that it makes me think of certain people I have lost contact with. Some make me sad. Time goes on. We all move on. But memories linger and will stay as long as I keep sane in my old age.
  
• "Come Softly" by The Fleetwoods: My sisters and I used to play my parent's records on their old HiFi record player. The Fleetwoods' Mr Blue .33 was one of my favorites. It made me look at my mom and dad fondly. It still does.
  
• "These Are the Days" by Van Morrison: My sister and I sat in my car up on top of Mt. Lemmon. We just sat and talked while it rained and this song played. "There is no past. There's only future. There's only here. There's only now."
  
• "Sad Songs Say So Much" by Elton John: I can't help it. Fun songs are great but the sad ones are the best!
  
• "Margaritaville" by Jimmy Buffet: Anyone who knows me at all will tell you that there is no place that I would rather be than Mexico. Warm sun, cool breeze, flip flops, Dos Equis and friends. Muchos recuerdos maravillosos!
  
• "Small Town" by John Cougar Mellencamp: Anything Mellencamp will bring back great memories of a more simple time in life. Long, hot summers full of friends, birthdays, swimming, parks, dancing and just plain good times. I visited with one of these friends a few days ago. It has been ten years. Been too long, Jenni. It was great to see you!

I tag the following five people:
Jenni
Christine
Borracho
Jana
Kim

I hope you guys respond because I would really love to hear what you have to say. : ) Email, blog, bulletin... I don't care.
Anyone else who would like to partake in music nostalgia, leave a comment!
GawdMom? Mommy? C? L?

SPF: Protection

This week Kristine wants to know how we ward off danger, evil and anything that may bring us harm.
SPF Assignment for Friday, July 13: How do you protect yourself? from the sun? from the bugs? from all things bad? alarms? sprays?



This is a picture of the hole in my wall where my fire alarm used to live.
Last week, I was folding clothes in my bedroom when a noise I had never heard before nearly blasted me out the sliding glass door. All I can say to describe it was that it sounded like a fire truck had driven through my living room or someone had set off three of those air-horns people use at football games. So deafeningly loud.
I was totally freaked out thinking that the dryer had caught fire or that I'd left some hair appliance plugged in somewhere. After searching every room, sniffing the air like a hound dog on a trail, I found nothing and the alarm stopped on its own.
Ten minutes later, it went off again and just as I was walking by it with a basket full of laundry. I had to laugh afterwards because I actually jumped, screeched and ran away from it. It was something cartoon-like.
Fighting all urges to smash the thing with a hammer, I found a screwdriver and pried it off the wall and disconnected the wiring.


This is what I found.


See the yellow 'thingy' inside the fire alarm apparatus? Looks burned doesn't it? I took it to Home Depot and they confirmed my suspicions. My fire alarm was starting on fire and making itself alarm!

Ironic. I was protected by the very thing that tried to burn my house down.

Next project on my to do list... install new fire alarm.
Happy SPF the 13th! Did you play?

Weekly News: Tofu, Life and Passing

Asian Chicken Salad from Pei Wei...
minus chicken, plus tofu

My wonderful extern, 'K', and HUS, 'V', were so awesome and went out to get us food for dinner at work last night. The consensus was Pei Wei, a step down from the pricey PF Chang's, but equally yummy. One of the ICU nurses, who happens to be a vegetarian recommended the Asian Chicken Salad but instead of chicken, tofu. Keeping with my low carb, low lipid diet, I decided that this was a good option and decided to try something new. So this week's new experience helped me to stay on course. They forgot the ginger dressing (which everyone who had tried it before claimed it to be "fabulous") so I tried it plain... the mint leaves were somewhat overpowering so I resorted to Newman's Own Italian (my favorite and loaded with bad stuff... so just a drizzle). It was pretty good and I would order it again. I expected tofu to be mushy white ick but it was pretty darn firm and tasty. I was actually surprised that it LOOKED a lot like chicken strips.
On another note... work news. A patient that I had been taking care of for the last four nights passed away. The multitude of family that was there at the beginning of the shift had just left, except for two. I was there with his son and his wife when he took his last breath. It is an indescribable experience to witness such a thing. My heart went out to his family as he came in a few nights ago, walking, talking, laughing, waiting for treatment when things took a turn for the worse. Such a nice person in general. I am so glad that my patient had family there with him when he finally left this earth. Mostly though, I am glad his son decided to stay. He was the one I was most concerned about because he did not seem ready to lose his dad. He will now have this moment and memory that he was there for his dad in his final hour. He passed quietly and peacefully.
When I tell people that I work on an oncology unit I get asked quite a bit if losing patients bothers me or if it gets too depressing. Yes, I have to admit that it is overwhelming at times but for the most part I am grateful that I am able to make such a difficult time for people a little more bearable a burden. When he finally passed, I was sad for the family. I took a long look at my patient and felt more sad knowing what a decent person he was and what a loss it is that he is gone.
It's funny though, that while I was alone with him, cleaning him, packing up his things, that I only began to tear up when I saw, among his clothing, some nice pants, shoes and a pair of suspenders. I'm not sure why it affected me like it did but I can see him not as a patient but as a person I could have said "hello" to at the grocery store or walking down the street.

I am so glad that I do what I do.

I Can't Even Name This Post

A Toast to Jenni's friend, Catheroo

I got home late from work today and am so tired I can hardly keep my eyes open. Even though I know I should be in bed it kills me to think that daylight hours are wasted away by barely sleeping, working, and barely sleeping again... despite the fact that this 7 day work week is the sacrifice I make for wanting to take two vacay's in one month. Ok... I asked for it.
Forcing myself to stay awake to maintain somewhat of a 'normal' person's life, I am outside (it is currently 101 in sunny AZ), drinking my drink and catching up on blogs. This is relaxing for me.
Jenni's page is so cute. It looks like "E" may have an "ET" toe like my sister. I love it. There may be a picture posted later... she will not like it but her toe will maintain its anonymity.
There is a fly that keeps landing on my leg and I am going to swat the _ out of it in a second if it doesn't stop.
L was is another accident this week and totaled the camper. No one was hurt but I hate that I heard it from my mom two days after the fact. I emailed her. Everyone is okay.
It's f***ing hot out here.
Random memories come to my mind time to time and a lot of them have to do with Gramma Mary. Blogs are becoming a means to logging my memories (inaccurate as they may be). I remember Gramma Mary's cold, wet kisses that smelled like Milwaukee's Best.
Damn fly. I need to keep flyswatters in every room like she did.
Did I mention it's hot?
Vegas this weekend! I can't wait! It will be my first real visit as the first time I was there, I was 19 and with my boyfriend, just driving through back from CA to AZ. My friend 'J' and 'S' have everything planned out which I am grateful for since I would be at a loss... hopefully not at the tables. I will be 34 on Sunday, even though MySpace thinks that I am already.
We fly back on Monday night. Tuesday AM I am driving down to Tucson to stay with my parents. Jenni and Co. will be there and I get to see her after ... 10 years? Seriously, has it been that long. I can not believe that. Plus! I get to meet the whole family! So excited!
Two more nights of work and then my vacation begins... I think I can...
Work sucks this week. I love my job but sometimes I think that management just doesn't get what a a staff nurse does during a typical shift at night. Patients do NOT sleep. We do NOT sit around. They are just as sick at night as they are in the day time. I think this misconception is one of the reasons we are continually understaffed with CNA's (God bless 'em) and called into the office for 'a discussion' when we end up working overtime. That's it... no more about work. I can't even think about it. I have to be back in 7 hours and need to sleep.
Shoo fly!
It's too hot to lounge outside.
Finally, a toast, to Jenni's friend, Catheroo. I clicked her link after reading Jenni's post and saw she was blogging & drinking her Fat Tire before bed. A toast to a great weekend for all... Happy Independence Day! Have fun and be safe... nitey nite for now.

All In a Night's Work: II

'Neutrophil' courtesy of Onc0link.org

• 4 the number of shifts out of seven I have worked so far
• 14.5 the number of hours worked in a 12 hours shift (damn good over-time)
  
• 3 the number of patients I took care of last night (thanks, Sue for blocking beds)
  
• 3 the number of patients who are severely neutropenic
• 1 the number of patients who have an antibiotic resistant bacteria in their blood
• 1 the number of patients who crashed to the floor when no one was looking (about 5 minutes into start of shift)
  
• 3 the number of STAT procedures ordered to rule out bleeds and/or fractures
• 10 the number of times I had to call the doctor regarding patient status
• 2 the number of patients who were bleeding from their nether-regions
• 2 the number of blood products given
  
• 60* the number of liquidy, bloody stools/urine that were dumped
• 6000* the number of cc's of bodily waste measured, dumped and flushed
  
• 1 the number of times I, myself, was able to pee during my shift (finally at 0500)
  
• 15 the number of vital signs that were taken
• 0 the number of CNAs (nursing assistants) that were staffed to help us
• 1 the number of foley catheters placed
• 1 the number of IVs started
• 7 the number of blood draws performed
• 50* the number of IV narcotics, antibiotics and other meds administered
• 5 the number of minutes I got to scarf down my cafeteria salad
• ? the number of miles walked (or ran) in the nurses station
• 1 the number of toilets that burst a pipe and flooded a room
• 2 the number of times that I laughed so hard I almost peed myself

Thank you, J, for all of your help! You have no idea how much time you saved me. Everyone else... thanks for the laughs! Good times! See you tonight and nitey-nite!



*approximate number only as I truly could not keep track