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Trini Quiroz
Quote of the Moment
“We know where she is at this very moment. We’ve got a lock on her. Soon as I finish these Chicken Tickles, we’re gone. It’s destiny.” The Man in the Hat, Tokyo Suckerpunch by Isaac Adamson
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| Writer's Block: Le Quatorze Juillet |
[ | | 07.14.09 at 9:59am] |
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Puisqu'auhourd hui c'est la Fête nationale française, je vais écrire en français. Franchement, je ne veux pas raconter toutes les choses francophones que j'aime (les films, les crêpes, la musique pop, la Belgique, Avignon, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, l'oulipo, TinTin, Lucky Luke, et le petanque) je vais continuer comme tous les autres jours.
Hier a été l'enfer. Priemierment, il y avait un embouteillage horrible. J'ai passé deux heures dans ma voiture pour une voyage qui tipiquement dure 45 minutes. Un espece d'idiot a causé un accident dans le tunnel et on avait besoin de quatre camions d'incendie, deux ambulances, et deux pick-ups de CalTrans pour nettoyer tout. J'ai passé une demi-heure dans le tunnel sans bouger.
Quand je suis finalement arrivée chez Gramma, la tante et cousine de Randall sont déjà parties. Heureusement Gramma était toujours dans son lit et je pouvais me reposer un peu. Mais bien sûr, j'ai commencé d'avoir mal á la tête. Feh. Gramma c'est reveillée un peu plus tard et on a passé la reste de l'après midi fachée, un parce que j'avais mal et j'étais frustrée, et deux parce que Gramma ne pouvait arrêter de demander comment utiliser l'ordinateur et quoi faire avec lui (la reponse: RIEN). Je déteste qu'il faut que l'ordi soit là parce que cela confuse Gramma toujours, et c'est extremement dificile de lui faire oublier qu'il existe.
Finalement Therese est venue, et je pouvais aller à Concord pour signez des formulaires pour l'apartement que Dad veut acheter. Double feh. Je suis perdue et quand Dad et moi sont finalement rencontrés, il m'a gronder pour ne pas avoir écouté la radio ce matin et pour ne pas avoir regardé une carte avant de venir (en fait, j'avais regardé et noté). C'était finalement trop et j'ai pleuré. Merci Dad.
J'ai toujours un peu mal, mais en général je suis beaucoup meillieur maintenant. J'espère que demain soit mieux.
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| A Child Should Be a Fish |
[ | | 07.08.09 at 6:02pm] |
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Aaah, not even a few hours go by and already another of my important machines breaks. Car is okay but my refridgerator bit the dust last night. I never liked the thing because like my fridge in Monterey, the machine was ancient and probably costing me a hunge chunk of my power bill. Crappy thing about the current one is that the freezer consists of a little metal shelf about the size of a shoebox hanging over the rest of the fridge so there isn't much room for more than a couple of things that can come in boxes like facon and Tofurkey. Apparently Randall's family had the exact kind back in Alabama.
Since Day 1 I've been fighting a glacier that regularly forms over the course of the day. The main reason is likely that the seal on the door wore out on the top corner (last resident probably opened the door by grabbing the corner instead of the handle). I stopped fighting for a couple of weeks and yesterday realized that I had icecles and that I couldn't get my bag of peas or anything else out because they were encased in ice. It took a lot of stuggling, but I was able to finally liberate everything and get rid of some of the ice. Managed to remove most of it and when I pulled out a big chunk I heard a pop and suddenly gas was flying out from somewhere in the ice.
I couldn't tell until this morning, but there's a little puncture mark on the side of the shelf where refridgerant is leaking (and the fridge is probably as old as me so it's the kind of gas that makes the Baby Al Gore cry). I knew it was going to be bad but I had no idea until I opened the door this morning and saw that the last of my home made pudding was submerged in water and that the shelf was effectively ive-free. Also, nasty rust-colored stain coming from the leak and dripping red stuff everywhere. Of course this all happens when I need to shower and get Reg and Sheridan, aka Los Malitos, into the aquarium for their vet visit.
Manager had a repair guy come while I've been out and if tomorrow's second opinion guy agrees, I'll get a new fridge! I'll be so happy if I can get a new one that's efficient and shiny. I'm still traumatized from the crap one in Monterey.
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| I Love Momentum |
[ | | 07.07.09 at 1:42pm] |
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Wow, six whole weeks without saying anything. I think that's a new record!
A few things have happened since I last wrote on this thing. I gave my two weeks notice about a month ago at the Autumn for starters. I was finally starting to get used to the job, back problems aside, but between Martin refusing to do anything on his own anymore, and Grampa getting combative around bedtime, and Melba patronizing me, I thought enough was enough. Rachel is also a pain to work for (everybody hates her), and even though she's decided to sell the place again I'm glad I'm no longer under her.
Part of the reason I was so eager and happy to leave the Autumn was that right around the time I started, Randall's uncle Fred started fretting about home health care for Randall's grandma, hereon referred to as Gramma. Between random and unfamiliar people and one aid that let Gramma fall, Fred was looking for a better way. Randall smartly mentioned my situation and as soon as logistics were worked out, I found me a new job! (In fact I'm writing this at work now! Gramma's taking a nap since she's had another dizzy spell.) It pays well- I can survive and I mostly just sit around after doing some basic housekeeping since Gramma sleeps late in the morning. I'm considering looking for a second job though to earn a few extra bucks. I miss having a disposable income.
No progress has been made with Reg and Sheridan, the new rats, so I'm taking them in tomorrow to get neutered. I still have a bump and scar from where Reg bit me on day one and a few more scratches. I can't touch either of them without getting bit or screamed at, and they fight long and hard, so I'm hoping the snipsnip helps. If not, money lost in an attempt and I may have to send them back to Rattie Ratz since it's too much maintenence dealing with aggressive and deranged rats.
Also, distributor on the Dreaded Doily II bit the dust last week. Apparently my exact model was part of a huge recall ages ago because of distributor problems, so obviously the last owner didn't do anything about it. It's getting fixed now, and in the meantime I've been driving Aldo's gass-guzzling SUV. Not fun.
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| Fried Egg Over Chips |
[ | | 05.25.09 at 1:32pm] |
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Back when my dad had to do a lot of heavy lifting for work he often remarked that back pain was the worst kind of pain. I have memories of finding him in the living room on the floor with his feet up on the couch. I think he was in the hospital once when I was little because of it, but I'm not sure.
Personally, I've always thought that migraine was the worst kind of pain. At least when your back hurts you can still read a book or carry on a conversation and be otherwise happy. With a migraine motion brings on dizziness and the pukes, and the sound of your own voice is ten times worse than the pain of somebody else, which is already quite painful mind you.
Right now, I'm starting to see how dad felt. I've only been at the Autumn for four days, with yesterday off, and as the afternoon has gone by my back has gotten more and more painy. Yesterday I woke up with my left knee on fire after an all-day shift, but it passed by the time Randall and I got to Saratoga for his cousin's yangqin performance (well really it was the California Chinese Youth Orchestra, but we were there for Mei), so the only discomfort was from putting my foot on the clutch. Now my right knee feels wonky and the right side of my lumbar is getting tighter and tighter with each passing minute.
I'm definitely going to tell dad and Melba, and my doctor when I see him Wednesday for a mandatory physical. I'm sure part of my pain is because I've never really had to pick people up before, grandma staying in bed all the time and all. I can't not lift people because it's such an integral part of the job, but I don't feel that I can stick with this line of work if it's going to destroy my back before I'm even 24. Part of me is doing a little happy hula, sadly enough. The job is rewarding and I'm earning more than I did at the library, but I can't get over feeling like I'm patronizing the residents, and I feel strangely left out because I'm the only non-Philipino caregiver, and the only word of Tagalog I know is "kamusta". Also the diaper smell is giving me flashbacks.
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| Peace of Mind Piece of Cake |
[ | | 05.23.09 at 8:28pm] |
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Wednesday I started work at The Autumn, Rachel's senior care facility. In the days coming up to it I felt like it was a mistake to say I'd take the job, and part of me still feels like I'm in over my head, but I think I can handle 6-12 months there if my back holds out. I feel really white because all the nurses (at least the ones I've met) are Philipino and talk amongst themselves in Tagalog. I need Billy to come and interpret for me. They're really nice though, and absolutely know what they're doing.
Today was my first weekend shift and full day, and jeebus I'm tired. Every other day I've shown up while the other caregiver on duty was finishing up the sandwiches and soup the seven residents have for dinner, leaving me to set them all properly along with their juice and milk, and sometimes coffee. Then there's helping the one who had a stroke eat dinner because he can't use his body well and bringing dinner to the two that like to eat in their rooms. Then turning down the beds for four of them, doing dishes and loading the dishwasher, making sure everybody is medicated, then helping stroke guy to the bathroom to change his diaper and get him ready for bed and then actually getting him into bed, then doing the same for crotchety hospice guy who's twisted around like Steven Hawking. Then cleaning the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher, and giving grampa (who is 98 and despite missing a leg, is still remarkably aware and strong in the arms) a snack.
That's all in two and a half hours.
On this delightful weekend shift, I got there at 7:30 and had to make pancakes, with different residents having different preferences for number. Also had to fry and scramble a few eggs, get coffee for everybody, and basically do everything I just listed but times three. Also waking a couple of the residents and helping grampa out of bed and into his clothes (did I mention that he can actually help when we move him to his wheelchair?), and doing a few loads of laundry. Luckily I had a two-hour break which gave me time to pick up Nigel and take him to Randall's, where I caught a quick nap before going back for the afternoon grind.
Really it isn't so bad. I've yet to bathe anybody in the shower and the other caregivers do the heavy lifting when we transfer, so it's mostly a lot of housekeeping and reminding. As dad puts it, it beats working in a Starbucks and it's training for medical interpreting.
I'll be happy when I give my two weeks' notice though, whenever that may be.
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| From a Licenced Physician |
[ | | 05.07.09 at 10:51pm] |
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I was organizing some old Word and OpenOffice docs last night, mostly putting my personal bits in a new folder. I'm kind of amused at how many short stories I've started and how they all stop around the 500 word mark, when writer's block kicks in for me. The oldest file I have in the folder is from 2003 and is the first time I used a character I had created on the side for a school project. Every creative thing I've had to write since then has starred this guy.
Right now there's about 20 files in that folder, all starring Tim Harmon, a twenty-something that works in advertizing somewhat reluctantly since he is a singing prodigy that could have been amazing in the opera world. My crowning accomplishment is my first NaNoWriMo story from 2006 which starred Tim and ended at the 50,105 word mark. My hope is to someday turn it into a graphic novel.
The reason I started writing stories about Tim was because I could picture him and his life more easily than I could describe it, so I figured writing would help me come up with interesting stories for him. (Also despite the rather minimalist design I had a lot of trouble drawing him right and got frustrated too much.) Obviously that didn't work out too well with seven years worth of beginnings of stories and two failed NaNo novels. I've got no idea what this years novel will be about yet.
Anyway, a couple days ago I was lisitening to the original version of "明日がある" (Ashita ga aru- There's Always Tomorrow) by Kyu Sakamoto and thought it would be really fun to illustrate it with Tim (He's rather unlucky with love). I've already written a little story that's mostly done and I just started drawing it out in one of my sketch books. My first comic! I feel giddy about being crative for the first time in a while. Let's see how it goes!
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| But There's Always Tomorrow |
[ | | 05.06.09 at 6:05pm] |
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I am done with finals! Just have to do some stupid paperwork and fork over more money and I am done with MIIS! Joy of joys! Monday Celesia should have my letter of rec done and then I can mail the thing before the deadline next Friday. Oh, and I should probably write my personal statement. Blegh.
Tomorrow I'm taking Diana to Salinas so she can get a Social Security number before she starts interning at Stanford on Monday. Lucky bitch! She's the only person that I'm happy for out of the bunch though, so I'm only happy to do it for her. Hopefully we'll get back in time for her final at 4 p.m.
In other news, I'm researching adoption options for Nigel's future cagemates. I found a reputable breeder in the Livermore area, but I'm leaning towards adopting from Rattie Ratz next month when they have their monthly fair conveniently near Randall's grandma's place. I can get two youngins for the cost of one bred one!
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| Yellow Armpit Stains |
[ | | 05.02.09 at 12:11am] |
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I have a home! It's in Fruitvale near 35th and 580 so the neighborhood is a little dodgy, but it's extremely close to both Fruitvale and Rockridge BART. And it's exactly the place I wanted at Humboldt Gardens! I'll have a real kitchenette (with a stove instead of a dirty hotplate), a bathroom with a tub (!!!), and hardwood/laminate floors! Best of all, I will no longer have to poop where I cook. It's crazy that it's legal to have places like that, but it's made for awesome stories. I'll miss my bathkin...
In other news, getting ready to work at the Autumn is madness. For being so thick sometimes Rachel is a very good and responsable buisiness person. I have to fill out a buttload of paperwork about my health, education, and criminal record, and today I had to go in and get a Live Scan (fingerprinting) so the state can be sure the FBI isn't after me. I'd like to blame swine flu for making me wait until the 27th before I can get a physical exam, because that seems pretty ridiculous. Rachel isn't thrilled and I'll have to keep checking in to see if there's any cancellations before then.
The only thing that's got me a bit irked really is that I inherit all of dad's furniture from Emeryville. Two couches, the dining room table, the coffee table, and the bed. Hooray for awesome (red) furniture and a big bed, but damn that's going to be a lot to stuff in my little space. On top of that are my two bookcases and Nigel's cage. I'll have to work hard to keep the place looking tidy amid my junk. At any rate I guess it means that the valuable stuff like the silver tea set from great great grand-relatives and all our photos are staying with dad at Rachel's. I should ask him about that and whether the last of my things (stuffed animals, books, and art projects) are still stored in the basement at the Autumn.
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| Shake Before Serving |
[ | | 04.27.09 at 12:39am] |
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Funny how quickly things turn around when things are looking crappy...
Went to San Ramon today with Randall to see his grandma and the rest of the family. Grandma keeps forgetting that she's lost her husband of 60+ years but even when she does remember, she takes it in stride and takes comfort in being reminded that she got to hold his hand and say goodbye and how that may have been the last thing he heard. My own grandma did not do well when she needed to be reminded that mum was gone. *shudder*
I talked to dad again about City College and moving back, and it actually went quite well. Thankfully it's starting to sound like the Walnut Creek apartment thing won't happen, at least not for a long time, and he did not make any objections when I talked about finding a rental in the Berkeley area.
The best of all though... I HAVE A JOB! For once Rachel was genuinely helpful and told me that there's an opening at the Autumn for somebody to do what I practically apprenticed under mum and grandma for (assorted eldercare things) beginning in June. I'll be able to work lots during the summer and still work during my free time while I'm at school (really need to work on the app...). HOORAY!
Finding a place to live is going to be interesting. I've emailed six people so far and just heard back from one in Berkeley saying absolutely no pets at all. There's another that's a few blocks from Randall's that is ambiguous, and the rest are in the Lake Merrit area and do take kitties. My top choice is a place at Humbolt Gardens that's gorgeous and promises to be full of interesting people that like to garden. The other places are okay, but it's discouraging that a lot of places (mostly owned by companies) demand your credit score to be above a certain amount. My credit is probably crap and I still need to learn what to do to fix that. Not planning on getting credit cards though, and I think dad is priority one when it comes to this matter, so I won't worry too hard. At any rate, the second I see "no pets" I stop reading anyway. (Worrying about Nigel staying here is already madness enough.)
Hooray for things looking up! And boo for ending a chapter in your life being so scary. But yay being back in my home turf and near Randall!
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