Pug Love

A couple of weeks ago my dad and stepmother travelled to Florida for their yearly vacation. Coincidentally, my brother and his girlfriend (who lives fairly close to my dad) were also traveling to Costa Rica for the week. So, that left me as the next, most qualified person to watch their two high-maintenance, geriatric pugs – Bubba and Missy.

Bubba and Missy are two of the most lovable, docile creatures you have ever met. They have been to my apartment in the city for a week once before. However, they were much younger, less blind and way more spry. I was also living with someone at the time, so there was an extra pair of hands on deck. Because I love them so much, nobody had to twist my arm to watch them, but I knew this time was going to be a lot more work and a lot more accommodation. So I took a week of vacation time and prepared for their drop-off on Saturday morning. Once my dad left, they looked up at me with the most pathetic little faces. And they were for sure, all sorts of mixed up.


However, they know me very well so it didn’t take long (about 1 hour) for them to settle in and get comfortable enough to urinate on my bedskirt. Perfect. I was beginning to wonder how the hell I was going to do this all week.

Our first adventure was to head to my friend Julie’s house to watch the New England Patriots playoff game. She had invited me over earlier in the week but I explained I would have not one, but two, four-legged friends in tow. “Why don’t you just bring them? They are pretty low key, right?” Low key? They are thirteen years old. All they know is low key. So I bought my low key friends a couple of Patriots bandanas, packed them up in the car and off we went. The Pats won but Bubba was particularly unimpressed.


As luck would have it, on Monday morning, Boston got approximately 4-5 inches of snow. This caused even more confusion for the already confused, non-city-dwelling pugs on their individual trips outside. That’s right…individual trips outside. I had to carry each of them separately down the stairs outside to do their business (4-5 times a day) because neither of them could make it up (or down) on their own. Silver lining: I met my goal of 10,000 steps almost every day that week.

Here’s a fun fact: pugs are often called Velcro dogs. Why? Because they never. ever. leave your side. And these two buggers are certainly no exception. When they chose a spot to lay down next to me, it was done in a methodical way so that they would know if I decided to take a call/send a text/sneeze/move/breathe. You get the idea.



Over the next several days I spent 24/7 with these guys. They would not let me out of their sight. Their entire world, everything they knew, had been turned upside down and I was the only thing that was still familiar to them. It was quite pitiful and my heart broke for them. I knew my dad would be back to pick them up on Saturday morning…but they didn’t. And there was no way I could explain it to them. So together the three of us made the most of it…spending the majority of our nights doing what pugs do best: snuggling.


Despite some accidents (read: multiple poops in the kitchen), a couple of 2am wake-ups so they could have a drink of water and a coating of pug hairs on the surface of everything throughout my entire apartment, I was sad to see them go. For those seven days, having two living, breathing creatures that were completely dependent on me, gave me purpose and responsibility. I am not in any rush to get one of my own, but I would definitely take them again for the week. Their snuggles helped heal my heart and those two little balls of fur totally helped pull me out of the funk I was in.

Well…I’m sure the wine helped too.


The Real Nurse Jackie

If you know me, or you are new to the blog (wait a minute. everyone is “new to the blog” at this point. ha!) and you happened to read the ‘About Me’ section, you would know that I am a registered nurse. I work in an ICU at one of the major medical centers here in Boston. I often get the whole “You’re a nurse? Wow, that must be so rewarding!” spiel when I’m introduced to someone new. Most of the time I’ll play along, smile politely and give an enthusiastic, “It really is!” Ugh <eye roll>, because that is soooo not how I feel. And, depending on whether or not I’ve had a glass of wine or two, I might rattle off how very rewarding it feels to have your patient spit at you or to be unable to appropriately care for your patients due to unsafe staffing levels. But like I said, I usually only go there if I’ve had two three glasses of wine.

Clearly, I don’t consider myself to be the dedicated, Florence Nightingale, I’m-in-this-to-help-people kind of nurse. Ironically, my nursing practice somewhat resembles Jackie Peyton, the character portrayed in Showtime’s Nurse Jackie – ummm, minus the drug problem OBVIOUSLY! But, in all seriousness, Edie Falco’s portrayal of Nurse Jackie is so spot on. Jackie is always striving to give the best, most compassionate care possible while the health care system around her is essentially crumbling. She delivers her compassionate care with quick wit and a tell-it-like-it-is attitude. And that is right up my alley.

Now hear me out, and most definitely do not get the wrong idea. I am an incredible nurse and I know my co-workers, patients and my patient’s families will vouch for that. If you land in my ICU, on my assignment, I will nurse the shit out of you or your loved one. These days, however, my heart just isn’t in it like it used to be.

There are mornings I leave my unit feeling defeated, because despite my best efforts my patient didn’t make it. Other times, I leave work and I feel completely bored because my patient’s condition did not require me to use any of my critical thinking skills. In a profession that is so incredibly demanding – physically, mentally, emotionally and academically – it’s not hard to understand why there is such a thing as nursing ‘burn out’. However, I just didn’t think it would happen to me this soon.

In order to quell these uneasy feelings, I often contemplate changing ICUs to care for a different patient population, going back to school and becoming an NP, cutting my hours to 36, rotating onto the day shift, taking up travel nursing…and yet, I’ve done none of them. Yet.

Maybe it’s because there are those rare mornings I leave my unit feeling really rewarded. Maybe because I had an appreciative patient or family member. Maybe the work sucked, but my co-workers who were working with me made the night incredible. Maybe during my 12-hour shift, with the collaboration of physicians and respiratory therapists and my amazing nursing coworkers, maybe…just maybe…my patient actually got better. Those mornings are my favorite. And those are the mornings that keep me coming back for more.

Alright, maybe I do still have a little Florence Nightingale left in me…but don’t tell anyone.


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Hello, February!


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Wow. So it’s February. Yikes. That went quick.

Gosh, I took a bit of a hiatus there for the month of January! I now understand why, when one takes a blog class, the teacher recommends not sharing your site with anyone until you have at least three months of content! In full disclosure, my heart took a bit of a beating over Christmas…and New Year’s…and actually well into January. I just didn’t feel up to writing or toying around with this site…or doing anything that didn’t involve work, sleep or Bravo! However, after several days (and nights) in bed, way too much reality television, a week of babysitting (er, dog sitting) the two most endearing geriatric pugs and lots of support, love and advice from all my friends, I’m ready to get back at this.

A couple weeks ago, I signed up for a class on WordPress at the Boston Center for Adult Education. That probably sounds really dorky, and it kind of is. But, since I’m known to my close friends as a bit of a ‘mathlete’, it seemed appropriate to get a little formal education on the program – um, and the class was half off…no brainer. All kidding aside, I do feel as though I’m finally getting the hang of navigating and designing this site and it’s starting to come together and have the look in envisioned. And I quite frankly, I’m loving it!

As I’m sure you know, the month of February is notorious for hearts, love and Valentine’s. That is all fine and great if you’re in a relationship or have a special someone to share the Hallmark holiday with. If not, it’s nauseating, a wee bit painful and usually generates lots of eye rolls (oh, that’s just me? Oh, ok.) Buuuuuuut, I’m not going to be a  bitter asshole about it. Because no one likes a bitter asshole. Instead, I’m going to practice some self-love this month. I’m going to give my own heart the love, attention and TLC it needs and deserves. Just a head’s up: that might include more reality television in bed…but we shall see ❤

I’ll give you a CNAME.

Ok, so it’s been a hot minute since I fired this thing up…and I’ve already had my first meltdown. It was more of a tantrum of sorts. With tears and all.

It happened Friday afternoon as I was tinkering around on Blogger – which is where I thought I wanted to host this blog. Without doing much research, I had decided on Blogger mainly because that’s what most of the blogs I follow were using and if it’s part of Google, it must be good, right?

Things were going smoothly until I attempted to add my personal domain that I had purchased to the Blogger account I had just created. This is the help page I was directed to:

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Just take a quick look through those steps. Looks easy, right? Ha! No.

I decided to take a breath and go through it step-by-step, but these eleven steps might as well have been written in a different language. My frustration began when I got to step four: CNAMEs! This required additional steps that included googling what exactly “CNAME” stood for (it means ‘Canonical Name Record’…obviously) and where to find my personal one.

I continued on with my little cheerleader voice in the background: “You’re a smart girl, you can do this.” But, things only got worse on step five when I was asked to “locate the DNS” and then directed to “enter the CNAMEs”. M’kay, that’s when I lost it. Like I said, it was now clear that I had no idea what I was doing and I just about gave up on the whole idea in that very moment. Ugh, just thinking about it now gives me anxiety all over again.

Through my tears, I managed to shoot off a Facebook message to a friend from high school who has built a business in digital media and website development. His words of advice: “Start with WordPress. Don’t do Blogger. WordPress is like Blogger but much better.” I obliged, set up my WordPress account (sans tears!) and here I am.

This post isn’t meant to hate on Blogger. If I could have worked through that set-up page I’m sure I would have loved it. However, the onslaught of ‘techy’ terms right off the bat killed it for me.

I’m sure one day, probably some day soon, WordPress is going to have me in the same position. I know the time will come when I’m going to be so frustrated and upset and annoyed that I’ll want to give up. But I can’t. And I won’t.

So until that day comes, I’m just going to sit here and admire what I’ve accomplished with my little site so far 🙂

Here. We. Go.

A trilogy of life-changing events: death, divorce and decade number three have had me toying with the idea to start this blog for over a year now. Why? Well, I didn’t really have a good answer for that question until a couple weeks ago when I happened to catch Gloria Steinem on Watch What Happens: Live with Andy Cohen (sidenote: LOVE HIM!). A viewer called in and asked Gloria what her biggest piece of advice was to women today. Her response: Find out who you are and follow it. This blog is my attempt at doing just that.

I made it through the last year and a half by surviving in the comfort of simplicity. However, over the past several months I have become uncomfortably comfortable. So, I’ve decided to mix it up a bit…

My goal is to come off cute and funny, though I’m sure some posts will be uncomfortable and awkward. I know some will sound a little (read: A LOT) bitchy and crass but I hope you will be able to see that deep down I am sweet with just a touch of sass! Ultimately, I promise to be relatable and honest. I hope you’ll join me in my adventures as I share my thoughts on everyday life with plenty of sarcasm, wit and realness.

Safe In Port

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