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Showing posts from June, 2006

Requirements for Officiality

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vehicle registration (check) birth certificate (check) copy of soul (pending) social security card (check) proof of being stung by no less than 25 NH mosquitoes (itching) Maryland license (check) picture of you on Jefferson’s nose at Mt. Rushmore (pending) $480.00 (begrudgingly paid) blood sample (given) clay model of the old man in the mountain (baking) passport (check) proof that you’ve licked an iceberg (check) NREMT-P card (check) CPR card (check) All this and a week later I’m a gamely employed, licensed, and registered New Hampshireite. Such excitement I have scarcely known! Actually, I’m secretly terrified, but don’t tell anyone. On Tuesday I mowed the lawn, sort of. First, I used this crazy machine that was really a weed-wacker on wheels (complete with spinning strings of death) to cut a nice path in the tall grass, wildflowers, and berry plants in the front yard. Now we can walk amongst them and enjoy the wildlife (if it ever stops raining.) I can happily report that later

Shiny and New

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Today was my first day of orientation. It went well and wasn’t too boring. I got my collar brass, badge, and road safety key. I’d show you a picture of my awesome, cop-looking, gold badge, but it’s just too shiny. Even shinier than the new disco patch. I was also fitted for my uniform, which will be embroidered shortly, it’s all very official! Got on payroll, woot! got a vaccine, woot! filled out forms, woot! Random person quote of the day: “With that accent you can’t be from around here.” Well spotted, I’d say, as it was the first time anyone commented and/or noticed my mid-atlantic “accent.” Google search term of the week: “Fresh cadaver intubation consent” Depending on how fresh the cadaver is, you may need consent to intubate it. You certainly aren’t going to get informed consent either way, but implied consent is okay. If it’s been a few days, you do not need consent, at least, from the cadaver, so intubate away. Consent may be needed to unlock the freezer, though.

Live free or die?

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I’ve learned a lot in the last week and a half. For one, moving may be an adventure, but it’s not fun all of the time, or even some of the time. Come to think of it, moving’s not really fun at all until you get to unpack. Some getting here numbers: around 9.5 hours, 542 miles, 7 states, about 8 toll booths, 30+ dollars in said tolls, and a 24 foot moving truck. I’ve also learned a lot about my new state, New Hampshire. There are a lot of misnomers about this state. For example, the NH state bird. The purple finch, you might say? No way! It is really what can be called: Aedes atlanticus , or, the mosquito. This, by the way, is also the Alaskan state bird. NH state animal? White tailed deer seems a logical answer, but it’s actually the traffic pylon. Other varieties include the cone, and the blinkey sawhorse thing, which are all very common in the summertime. The state bird and animals are pretty easy to spot, and you actually earn points for how many you kill and/or hit

Unpacking...

Is awesome! We’ve got the rooms de-wallpapered, cleaned, painted, and carpeted. I spent most of today moving my stuff in and spreading it around in an organized fashion. It’s been like Christmas; every box I opened lead to “I brought this?” “Yay!” “I love it!” “You shouldn’t have!” and the like. I’ve arranged the furniture and put stuff on the walls, it’s like we live here or something! There’s even a perfect place for my bizarro salt and pepper shaker collection, what joy! Tomorrow I have my work physical and second PPD. I also hope to get my license and think some more about registering the car. Hopefully this weekend I’ll have time to regale you with the ups and downs of the last week, tell you about the New Hampshire state bird, and give you the true meaning of “Live free or Die.” That John Stark!

So much to tell...so little time

To sum up the last week or so: (to be blogged in detail once we get the internet running) Had a "this is your life" type graduation/going away party that was lovely. Drove and packed, packed and drove, my last night in Maryland included crab cakes, (of course!) and sleeping on the floor. Followed by the longest drive I've ever driven myself. Arrived in NH, thank God! Unpacked the truck, ate, and slept. Assessed the situation of the house, so to speak, and it's coming along, with work to be done. Primed a room, and did various other things. Became a paramedic! Had a job interview, got lost (for the first, but certainly not the last time). Visited costco. I'm not sure why, probably because it's familiar, so I thought. It was just like the one at home, until I wandered into the beer and wine aisles (do note the 's' in aisles). Wow, I found myself smiling mindlessly like a crazy person, so overcome with the greatness of this state (beer in the gro

Kazoos?!

On Thursday, I spent an evening in the district with Ewing and Ana. We went to see KT Tunstall, who I’m sure you’re all well versed about by now, after all of your research. It was an excellent show, and we were in the very front. So close that I could read the set list! I bought a t-shirt, so now I feel my debt is repaid to her for the mysterious circumstances in which I acquired her music. Much like how the British “acquired” the Elgin marbles from the Greeks. While waiting for the festivities to begin, we noticed a great variety in the instruments on stage ready to play us good music. We even joked about what they were missing. No bagpipes for a Scottish singer? No kazoo! No washboard! No way! Well, little did we know that a kazoo ended up playing prominently in one song, along with a trash can lid, how random and ingenious! The fact that there were no bagpipes was made up for when I realized one of her band mates was wearing a black pinstriped kilt, hot! Today, my par

Packing...

Sucks! Apologies for the rudimentary word, but it feels like the only way to properly describe the few days it has taken to pack up my room at home. After several sunlit days at UMBC after graduation, the inevitable was upon us as we had to pack it up and move out. I feel we utilized our days well, playing our favorite games, visiting friends, and eating a host of “college-only” foods. (bless you mini corn dogs, jalapeƱo poppers, ice cream, and mozzarella sticks.) Move out day for lack of a better word, again, sucked. Let’s see…3 flights of stairs is about 42 stairs, and I would guess that I ended up going up and down about 30 times which makes about 2520 steps total. Needless to say, I could barely walk the next day. I must have looked quite ridiculous driving home, the truck filled to the brim, kayak on top, and my suitcase and vacuum cleaner strapped on top of the tonneau cover. I made it home in one piece without having anything fall off or visit another car’s windshield.