Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Going batty. . .

I work in a School of Public Health. I don’t have a health background, I have an education background. I write curriculum for the School of Public Health. I work with a panel of nurses to ensure that the curriculum I am writing is clinically accurate. It’s a challenge, but a good one.

This morning I walk into the school in which my office is located and see a sticker on the door. It is a picture of a bat and it says, “If you see me, don’t touch me! I could have rabies. Tell an adult immediately.” Hmm, I thought to myself.

I wonder how frequently people see bats around this campus? We’re not in the middle of a metropolis, but we’re also not really in the middle of the woods either. I feel like there have to be a fairly significant amount of bats to warrant a warning. I haven’t seen any, but I’m new around here, so I guess it’s a problem.

Then I wonder, how many children are walking around on the college campus without an adult? Probably not many, but I suppose it makes sense that we want to make sure that that minor group of children is protected. So we will protect them with these stickers.

And then I wonder about the adults. I’m an adult. So I guess if some kid sees a bat, he will make sure not to touch it, and then he will tell me. Do you know what I would do if a kid told me he saw a bat? I would say, did you touch it? (No). Did it bite you? (No). That’s good, because sometimes they can have rabies. Which I no longer need to tell the kid, because he has already read the sticker, which is why he told me in the first place. So then he doesn’t really need to tell me, because he already knows as much as I know.

I ponder these things as I walk up the stairs to my office. I’m chuckling to myself, thinking, really, what the hell would I do if some kid told me he saw a bat. My first response would probably be, oh, cool. By the time I sit down in my chair I realize, I am probably a fairly irresponsible adult. Cleary the sticker is instructing the kid to tell me because I am going to do something. Should I know what to do? Would you know what to do?

So I googled it. You can google anything. There’s lots of info on what to do if you find a bat in your home, but do you know what they say to do if you see a bat outside? Don’t touch it. If you’ve touched it, or if it’s touched a pet, then it’s a different story. There’s a chance it could be rabid and you could have rabies, in which case you would need medical treatment.

So after all of that, I think they should draft a new sticker. It should say, “If you see me, don’t touch me! I could have rabies. If you’ve already touched me, have an adult contact a doctor immediately.” This seems more logical, so that some poor rabies-ridden kid doesn’t end up sitting, sharing “cool animal” stories with an uninformed adult the likes of me.

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

New Year, new . . . debacles?

So the bottom line is, I love the word debacle. I will use it whenever I can, even when the matter at hand is more of a situation, conundrum, crisis, or even just a non-event. If I can work in the word debacle, believe me, I will.

So just a few updates. I actually don't even think anyone is reading my blog, so at this point I'm talking to myself, which is a bit of a debacle in and of itself, no?

The New Year has brought some frustrations and I'm still waiting for all the promises that a New Year is supposed to bring.

Starting with Rogue. A little over a month ago, this adorable kitty cat showed up, living under Kelsey's and my front porch. She's perfect. Precious. Soft. Sweet. You get the idea. We take her to the vet, get her shots, get a clean bill of health and check for a microchip. We're good to go. We fall in love with her. We're not allowed to have pets in the house, but at some point it just got too cold and we had to bring her in. Considering we were going on vacation soon and buying a house shortly thereafter, it didn't seem like that much of a crisis.

Until our landlord saw the cat and completely freaked out. I knew at some point the kitty would have to go into foster care, I just wasn't ready for it. Yesterday we took our little Roguer to live with his temporary mommy. I cried. Twice. We can see her as often as we like, I know the woman she's staying with and she's fantastic, I am just so sad. I don't want her to think we're giving her away or that we don't love her etc. It's kind of ridiculous to be as sad as I am. I know I'll be okay without her for a bit, I'm really just concerned that she'll think we don't love her anymore, and we so do.

Hives. I've got 'em. Don't know why. I was out painting till about 10pm on Saturday night. Came home and my right forearm started itching. Followed my the rest of my arm. Followed by my other arm. Followed by my belly. Followed by my shins. You get the idea. And no, I haven't changed detergents, deodorants, lotions, soaps, perfumes or anything else. They come and go. Right now they're coming. It's incredible. They're not very visible, so I guess I shouldn't call them hives as I don't know for sure, but I sort of assume. they are fine pink or white raised itchy areas that come and go and drive me crazy! But, what I read online (and god knows if you read it online, it must be true) is that hives can be caused by stress. And nothing causes stress more than debacles.

The house. Last Monday the bank called me and told me that my mortgage had been approved. Sweet. Pick a closing date and get it done! Saturday I actually got the commitment letter. Not that sweet. The loan will only be approved contingent upon my getting the porch fixed. I'm not even getting into it here, but here's the bottom line. The porch needs to be fixed. It's in bad shape, but it's not essential to the house, it's an add-on and therefore not affecting the house. The homeowners have made it clear that they are selling the house as is (ie. not fixing the porch). I currently have no idea what the f I'm going to do.

On a better note; Florida. I leave for Florida on Thursday night. This, essentially, is a good thing. Kels and I go at the same time every year to do a 12 mile hike and spend some time with my parents. It will be fabulous. I am just terrified of flying and have not gotten into my doctor to get any happy flying drugs. And the weather is not looking good. :( But I can't wait to see my parents, do some kayakking and enjoy weather that doesn't induce frostbite.

On another positive note, my friend Wendy makes incredible jewelry. Almost all of the jewelry that I wear is Eclectic Wendy Designs. I have a few pieces from another friend Pam Rainer, and a few pieces that I have made, but for the most part, my ears, wrists, fingers and neck are largely adorned by EWD. Well right now Wendy is running a special that you can enter for a chance to win a personalized piece of jewelry. This is fabulous for a few reasons. One; who doesn't love jewelry? Two; Wendy makes really nice stuff. Three; personalized jewelry is the sort of thing you wish your significant other would get for you, but for some reason they just never do. So it's a win-win. If you would like to see some of this amazing jewelry, or enter in to win a free piece, check out her blog at: http://eclectic-ramble.blogspot.com/2010/01/new-years-giveaway.html . She's also on FB and etsy. Seriously, I love her work and give her jewelry to people whenever I can.

Finally, one last thought. Bathrooms. My new job has three stalls in the bathroom. It seems like every time I go in there, someone is in the middle stall. Why would you do this? At least if you're on the end and someone else comes in, they can choose the other end, and at least for the time being, the two of you have a modicum of privacy. If you're in the middle, neither one of you has that option. Why do people do this? Are you one of those people? Can you explain this to me?

I think it's a bit of a debacle. . .