If the shoe fits

I thought I had finally hit the jackpot looking for a suitable nursing shoe.

After visiting three Oklahoma City-area medical supply stores, I found one where they had something my size -- 13 -- and fit school policy. And since it was on the clearance shelf, it was cheap.

But the shoes didn't fit right at all. One of the clerks at this place was watching me, and came over to help. It didn't take long for her to figure out what was wrong.

"Let me see if I can find a more masculine version of that shoe."

The shoe looked pretty generic to me, and I didn't see anything on the box that indicated it was a women's show. But then I did notice the model name on the side of the box: "JENNY."

I know what it's like to be in a woman's shoes now.

I don't really mean figuratively; it's more in a literal sense -- sort of for a medical podiatric drag show.

But maybe I got just a slight taste of what it's like for a woman in a man's world. Like I said, this was the fourth store I had been to that day: One didn't have a thing my size and two didn't have any men's shoes in stock at all. It's like when I looked for my scrubs and the place had two sections: women's and unisex.

No, it's not even close to the same thing as what women go through. And then I saw ads like this plastered all over the walls of several of these places:



Maybe it's another way to try to get more men in the profession.

Dyssomnia

dys·som·ni·a
n.
A disturbance in the normal rhythm or pattern of sleep.

"Life is something that happens when you can't get to sleep."
- Fran Lebowitz

I think pretty much everyone has heard me bitch at one time or another about having to work nights and weekends. But hey, now that I'm in nursing school, I've got those times free!

So how did I take advantage of this opportunity? See a movie or play? Go hit the bars?

Well, Friday night I stayed in my room and read all night. And tonight? As you can see, I'm home alone in front of my computer -- blogging.

Mainly I've been getting caught up on sleep. Getting up in the morning at a time when just weeks ago I was going to bed has wreaked havoc on me the first two weeks of school. What's made things worse is my rediscovery of the beauty of an afternoon nap.

I've rediscovered a few things as I've readjusted my sleep schedule:

- the importance of not just coffee, but some good coffee in the morning (And yes, kc, the Merc's is great).

- how much I like listening to NPR News' "Morning Edition." I should listen to NPR more, but usually the only time I've listened is during morning commutes; since I have one again, I've tuned in.

- the dangers of the snooze button. When you don't have to be at work until 5 p.m., you don't really even need an alarm clock. I'd forgotten how easy it is to tell yourself: "just 10 more minutes."

I admit that what I loved most about living on campus was heading over to my dorm room between classes and taking a power nap. A quick half-hour to recharge the batteries for my afternoon classes.

And in our lab rooms there are hospital beds set up that make me want to knock the anatomically correct patient dummy occupying it to the floor and snooze.

So late last week I decided to take a nap before doing my reading for the next day's lecture. I woke up three hours later.

And that meant I had less time to do everything I needed to get done for tomorrow. And as much of a problem these naps have been, I haven't been able to stop. The naps have been getting shorter, but it still takes away from my free time. A few weeks ago kc asked me how it was going to be without working on deadline anymore; turns out I still have one: it's called bedtime -- get all my crap done before I have to hit the hay, or risk having to stay up late.

That's bad because I know that while I've worked for two weeks to fix my sleep cycle, it'll take one night of staying up to watch "Futurama" reruns to throw it all to hell.

But hey, after this week I'll only have 186 days in the program to go -- 186 days of waking up at 6 a.m.

Boob tube

No, this is not another post about porn.

Growing up, before moving to South Korea, I didn't see my parents much. My dad, having five kids to support after I was born, took on a second job at Montgomery Ward. My mom was studying in school. That's why I often tell people I was raised more by my sisters than anyone else.

But that's really not true. My three half-sisters, being teenage girls, were not that interested in watching me all the time. So their solution? Set me in front of the television.



My parents, nor anyone in my family ever talked to me about drugs. No, it was Dr. Huxtable who told me to stay away from pot on "The Cosby Show." It was Dr. Drummond and Gary Coleman teaching me about racism on "Diff'rent Strokes." And can you believe Michael J. Fox had me believing I was a Republican? And when I was a little older, I watched these shows in South Korea, and the Armed Forces Network had no commercials -- they could squeeze three half-hour shows in an hour. I much more productive with my TV watching than the average American kid.

Those types of shows are what I like to watch anymore. And really, I have a hard time watching TV anymore. It's too difficult to schedule my time around when most shows come on so it has to be pretty damn good for me to actually make to to watch something. Rick told me how he might watch something but not want to wait another week for the next installment. I'm the same way -- when I find a Great Fucking Show, I want to be able to lose myself in a show, watching not just and episode at a time, but a whole season at a time. And like when I was a kid watching sitcoms, I want thses shows to mean something to me, and I want them to make me think.

And for it to earn the title of Great Fucking Show, it has to really mean something to me. Everyone knows how I feel about "Futurama," but it doesn't even get that title. I love that show because it fits my sense of humor, and I've hinted at how big a sci-fi nerd I was in my youth, and the show can really hit home for me.

But I'm talking about shows that I really feel a connection with -- where after watching an episode I'll be thinking about constantly until I can watch again. And my biggest fear becomes that I get hit by a bus or something and die before the show is at some sort of resolution point.

But there are no shows like that for me now. "Scrubs" I think of as a Great Fucking Show, but it really has run its course. "Six Feet Under" I think may be the best TV show I've ever seen, and I hadn't even seen an episode until after it went off the air. (Of course, watching all the episodes on DVD all at once really is the way to go.)

But that changed with a show that I really didn't expect to like this much, especially given the fact that I've been such a square, as evidenced by the fact that I just used the term "square." I had seen teasers to "Weeds" during my stops at motels earlier this summer. It looked like an interesting show. When I was at kc's last week she told me about it and how we could watch some episodes since she has Showtime OnDemand.

We watched the entire first season in one night.



I actually knew I was really going to like this show watching and listening to the opening credits. A great cast and clever writing, the show is damn funny as it comments on suburban conformity and hypocrisy, something I experienced, too. But the show also surprises when it reveals a lot of heart -- sure, then main character is a drug-dealing mom, but I know how much my own mother struggled when my father died (it's sort of the same reason I connected with "Six Feet Under"). If my mom felt she could provide for her family, I know she probably wouldn't have been opposed to peddling some chronic on the streets of OKC's Asian District.

And this weekend, back up in Lawrence, we watched again, this time with Erin and cl joining in -- just no one tell Bill Cosby we were watching a show about pot. And even though we didn't even get far enough into the season to when it really got good, it is clear why I could connect with this show. In reading stuff online I came across a few reviews that kind of slammed the show for its stereotyping, calling it unoriginal, and its use of racial stereotyping in its humor -- but that was the damn point! Growing up where I did I was pretty sensitive to stereotypes, that's why I love it when they can be turned on their ear, and disarmed with some humor (I also watched Sarah Silverman's "Jesus is Magic" last weekend: "Guess what, Martin Luther King, I had a fuckin' dream, too! I had a dream that I was in my living room." -- that was for you, kc).

And of course I don't have Showtime. At home we have HBO, but in the spirit of the show I'll still be watching the new season, which just started, through "alternative" methods. And really, I can get pretty much any show this way. So, wise readers, tell me: What are some other shows out there you watch? Anything you were able to connect with, I'd like to hear about it.

The Nightingale

I think everyone has noticed the new name of the blog; I felt a change was in order as I start a new chapter in my life. In trying to come up with something I came across Nattergalen, and I'm using it in what I'll call it a slight nod to Florence, but mainly a reference to Hans Christian Andersen's story.

For the full translation of the tale, you can click here. But this is the truncated version:

There was a Chinese emperor who had built himself the most beautiful palace in the world with a beautiful garden, all built at a great cost. And visitors who came to the palace would all compliment the emperor on his beautiful home. Except they would all tell him that the most beautiful thing of all about it was the nightingale that would sing there.

So the emperor had the nightingale come sing in his court, and all were in awe of her beautiful song. Until the emperor was sent an artificial nightingale to sing to him. The fake bird sang just as beautifully, but could only sing one kind of song. However, it was also beautiful to look at, being encrusted with jewels. The real nightingale left the court and the emperor banished her.

So the fake bird sang for the court until one day it broke. And as the years passed the emperor became ill. But when Death came for the emperor as he was wasting away, the real nightingale returned, turning Death away with her song and healing the emperor.

So do you see why this is a fitting story? Me, like the nightingale, being cast aside because others have valued looks and outer beauty over what is beautiful about me from within. And that inner beauty being able to heal and bring someone to tears.

If you're thinking I'm full of shit right now, you would be right. It is a crock, and it is not why I'm renaming my blog after this story.

I haven't been like the nightingale; I've been the emperor.

Too many times I have valued looks over what's inside, or cared about what others would think over what I should have felt was important. Or tried to live in places considered "cool" -- like Florida and California -- over places I could make a real home for myself. I have to admit that when I made to shift to nursing the fact that I could move around was pretty appealling.

I said before that what attracted me to journalism was what I could contribute to my community; to provide a civic service. But I had lost that -- my career had become about what I wanted, and I was bitter because I felt (somewhat erroneously) it could not provide these things: a nice big house, nice car and a life outside of work. Really I just blamed the job on me not being able to save money nor have the self-confidence to go out and socialize or, God help me, actually date anyone.

So I decided on nursing because I needed something else for myself. And sure, the chance at more money and advancement were factors, but I needed something that wasn't going to just be about me. I want to be able to help others who really need someone.

I've been the emperor, but I'd really like to be the nightingale.

Stuff to forget

OK, prepare to be appalled.

The only headline I remember misspelling that was really bad is when I was an intern in Tulsa. Tahlequah, my friend Austin's hometown, I spelled "Talhequah." It made it through on the first edition. Sharon, you might remember that. You weren't mad because spellcheck said I had spelled it right. We made the fix for the Final Home Edition, but Tahlequah is a first edition city.

And since I brought it up, last month I screwed up the edition line. For first edition it's "FINAL EDITION," and the software we use has funky coding, so when I change it I copy and paste "FINAL" to make it say "FINAL FINAL EDITION." I changed "INAL" to say "OME", but I changed the wrong F.

It ran as "HINAL FOME EDITION."

Going back to internships, the worst thing I ever did as an intern was at The Boston Globe. When writing heads, I'd usually write two or three and the slot editor could choose the one he or she liked, or write a different one.

One pay I worked on a centerpiece about city pools possibly losing funding, and it had a photo kicker. A joke headline popped in my head and typed it, just to see whether it would fit. Of course, later in the night I saw him chatting to someone else saying "He has really been doing well, but tonight he wrote this:" and I saw him paste in my joke headline:

"Wet dreams"

Really, the worst stuff I did was when I was at OU. I remember what I kind of think is the best headline I never wrote, a story on a problem on every large campus: parking. The movie had just come out, so this headline was timely:

"Dude, where's my car lot? UOSA says."

But since I was now a journalism major, I had an inkling of news judgment and chickened out.

This next thing I blame on me not knowing any better because I wasn't yet a journalism major. I wrote this story. Don't bother reading the article. I mention it because I did a big no-no: I used two of my friends as sources. I was working at the paper doing about eight to 10 stories a week, taking a full load of summer classes and also working at the theater company. I was desperate.

I used the aforementioned Austin about how great Waffle House is. But what was really bad was when I went through my tape recorded interviews and found a quote from my roommate, Randy, that he said jokingly about video rentals. I decided to use it:

Computer science senior Randy L. also chooses to rent videos from Hastings.

“Hastings is a good place to get movies pretty cheap, porn especially,” he said.

I remember the reaction from Wendy, his future wife:

"Awwww, George ... he's going to move out. You're going to have to find a new roommate, because he's going to move out."

If Randy was mad when he found out, he did a helluva job hiding it -- he laughed and said it was funny. Randy, thanks for being such a good sport.

That article was for the giant 2000 Back to School special section. I think I had more than 20 articles in it, and we were desperate to fill all the space. There was one thing in particular I wrote for it that I was hoping to find on the archives, but no dice. It wasn't there.

But on a hunch, I checked my closet -- as luck would have it, it's among the few clips that survived the tornado of '03.

It is my review of the OU bathrooms.



"It is something on this campus everyone has experienced one time or another. You have 10 minutes until your next class, which is on the other side of the campus, but nature is calling. So you pop into the nearest powder room and find a broken down sewage plant waiting for you.

Here's a little guide to the best and worst campus restrooms that may help you in your next time of need. The ratings are based on crack research so our findings aren't just full of crap."

Yep, that's the lede. Writing about the student unions upper-floor toilets I got away with "This place is usually pretty quiet, and the union's late-night access makes emptying your poop chute there a 24-7 possibility."

I reviewed 10 bathrooms, relying on intel from our female staffers for the ladies rooms, and used a ratings system of one to four urinal cakes, with four out of four being the best. But for the mens rooms, I really did do the research myself. An example: I called up the office of David Boren, the OU president, getting his secretary. I told her who I was and that I was with the school paper, and she tried to transfer me to the press secretary.

"Wait," I said. "I just have a quick question. Does President Boren have a private restroom in his office?"

"No," she answered suspiciously.

"Oh, so he uses the public toilets in Evans Hall with everyone else."

"Well I would assume so!"

That's when I realized how this sounded. I tried to explain, but she had already hung up.

It was just as well. I had to use the bathroom, and I now had to walk to Evans Hall.

Greatest hits

I tried unsuccessfully to find a copy of the first article I had ever written. Even though it was just a poorly written movie review of a really crappy film -- "Play It to the Bone" -- I thought it might be amusing for people to see it. But because the OU paper switched its Web host there's a gap in its archives that includes my first semester, and I don't have LexisNexis access to see whether it's still there.

It's just as well. When I wrote it I didn't know what the hell I was doing; I just did my best to trash the awful movie (I think I rated it too high when I gave it a 3 of 10), and filled out the review by inserting quotes from the actors in the press kit, something no one does. Sheesh!

Of course, that first article combined with my "Chicken Run" review to take first place for entertainment reviews at Oklahoma SPJ. Go figure.

So in what I hope to be my final goodbye to journalism, I give you some of the works that stick out in my mind -- and didn't lose after moving five times -- during my newspaper days.

Best front page column
OK, this is my only front page column. I don't recommend reading it. But it's worth remembering because it's the last article I ever wrote. The J-W city editor approached me just before the 10-year anniversary of the Oklahoma City bombing. He felt that it made perfect sense for me to write a column about it because I'm from the state. I thought it was a dumb idea because I didn't have a direct connection to the tragedy, but he wouldn't take no for an answer, so I wrote it. I never felt so unworthy of a subject matter in my life.

Best news headline


I used to have actual clips of this story, which ran across the bottom of the front page, which is why I had enough space to be creative. The story started off with all the problems the first Mars rover, Spirit, was having, and how dejected the JPL scientists were, but the second half of the article was all about the optimism surrounding the second rover, Opportunity.

Best first effort

This is actually the second front page I ever did as a pro. The first I did in Tallahassee when two designers were off, two were sick, and another was on vacation. That left me.

It turned out OK, considering. The page had been sketched out for me by the NE, a six-story front. It was very crammed and not a great page, but fine for my first.

But I thought this turned out pretty well. I did it on my own and more or less made the decisions on how to play the stories. I do wonder whether I jinxed the Jayhawks, though. (Let me add that the best redesigning of a page I ever saw was the night Bucknell beat KU. It was pretty much assumed the Jayhawks would win, so after the upset there was no backup plan. KC put together a great page with a great photo and headline.)

Best job of listening

The state trooper across the bottom of the page was supposed to be the centerpiece. But kc and I saw this picture and she knew what I had to do, even before I did. And I also spent a lot of time on the J.R. Giddens refer, another Oklahoma boy who screwed up in Lawrence.

Best page everyone else hated

Actually, the other designers and the features people all like this page. But I was in the afternoon budget meeting the day this ran, and I got reamed for this one. A lot of complaints about the white text over black type. After this, though, the other designers wanted me to show them how I had faded the four-color black from the image into one color to keep the type from being fuzzy. Now the World loves when the other designers do it know. But I never did after this page.

Oh, and another complaint was that it looked like it was a waste making a page look this good over a mediocre movie. I thought I should try to do my best work no matter how good the movie was -- shouldn't I be trying to get people to actually read the stories? Of course, that wasn't my motivation here. I did the page like this because Kate Beckinsale is FRICKIN' HOT!

Best of a bad situation

This doubletruck is actually part of a before-and-after shot. If you could see the "before" you'd be more impressed. The page was originally put together by the graphics guy; so you shouldn't be surprised if I told you that the page first had all of the graphics as the biggest art elements by far. I spend about half of my 10-hour shift at the hippie-hater's desk, cursing his name every other second because I had to combine the two graphics with all the pie charts and resize everthing in a program I'm not that good at using.

The next week I blew up at the ME about putting the graphic illustrator with no layout training in charge of designing special projects.

Best modeling job

I still say I'm the reason KU beat Nebraska last year.

Best I could come up with

This is like the OKC bombing column, only I had to put together an entire special section on the one-year anniversary of 9/11. I racked my brain trying to figure out how to design the cover, until I finally gave up and just stuck a PDF of the page from when it happened. Heck, I was going for a sense of perspective, anyway.

Oh, and as this went to press, the official toll went down, so the headline became inaccurate pretty quickly.

Regrets (Final Home Edition)

Today was supposed to be my last day as a journalist.

I was going to write a post before this one bashing my soon-to-be-former boss, but I decided against it. Sure, he was an idiot and a jerk, but I can't let one person ruin my experience in Tulsa, especially since I worked with so many others here who have been great, and made working here a good experience: Sharon and Mary have always been good to me. Colleen, the night editor, has always looked out for me. And John Young, our venerable slot editor who somehow is both kind and gentle yet commands so much respect, made one of the high points of my career by telling me how highly he thought of me. Yes, the copy desk has been good to me.

They had a send-off earlier this week for their copy desk intern, and I was included in it because my desk wasn't going to do anything like that. And amid the well wishes and goodbyes I started feeling really weird; I came here knowing it would be temporary, and really didn't form much of an attachment during my nine months here. I had trouble sorting out my emotions until I finally figured it out:

This is not the day my career as a journalist will end.

I mean, a little less than two weeks ago I gave my notice -- as this day approached I really started getting emotional about my decision to leave. And I realized that no matter what successes I have in my new profession, part of me will always regret leaving.

But not Tulsa.

What was weird was that nine months after the fact I was really regretting leaving Lawrence.

That's why I say that today is not the day my career came to a close; that began Nov. 19, 2005, with my last paper to be put to bed tonight.




The beginning of this week, as we had a pot-luck dinner in honor of the two of us leaving, I kept thinking of the send-off from the people at the Journal-World. Above is the cover and inside of the card they gave me. (Remember the OU scrubs they also got me?) They made it very difficult to leave, and I was regretting my decision then. But that wasn't the first time I felt that way -- the first time was the moment I told Kim the Tulsa World had offered me the job.

But I still left. I came very close to going back last April. Sorry, folks at the World, but the J-W is my newspaper; it's where I fit. If I were to still practice journalism, it would be nowhere else. But when I tried to go back I was only offered a spot part time because I still planned to go to nursing school. I was hoping to get on full time, and push back my start date to January, at which point I would have then dropped down to part time. The managing editor didn't go for that.

But it's for the best it didn't come to pass -- things didn't go as planned in Tulsa, but because of the environment on my desk it was easy to keep focused on the goal of going to nursing school. If things had gone to shit while still in Lawrence, it would have been too easy to stay in journalism, as much as I resent the profession. It would have been a bad choice.

Looking back, I've made a lot of bad decisions in my career after graduating, but I don't regret making any of them:

I shouldn't have looked for a first job so far from home. But no regrets there -- I met Kelly and Dawn in Tallahassee, two wonderfully talented and fun people whom I wish I could have worked with longer.

And I shouldn't have bolted for Torrance. But I had been California dreamin' for years. I needed to get it out of my system. And it wasn't really a good decision to leave the Daily Breeze -- more like it was the only decision.

Of course if things had not ended the way they did, I would not have gotten interested in nursing. Nor would I have ended up in Lawrence, where I met Christy, Erin and Ben, and Karrey, Susan, Susie, Mark, Michelle and Eryn. And of course Kim, who is now one of my best friends -- among the ones I'd do anything for.

That's why it's been such a weird last week. I still know I finally made a good choice: It was the right decision to leave the Lawrence Journal-World. But that doesn't keep it from being the one decision I now regret.