10 vs. 10,000

In light of his newborn twins receiving a potentially fatal overdose of Heparin (a blood thinner), Dennis Quaid and his wife have decided to sue the manufacturers of the medicine. Apparently, the labels are too similar to tell the doses apart.



Call me crazy, but even with the 10cc bottle slightly blurred, I'd be able to tell the difference between the two bottles. Unless the manufacturer put the wrong dose in the bottle (put a 10,000cc dose in a 10cc bottle), this mistake could've been easily prevented.

Is anyone else wondering why Dennis Quaid isn't suing the hell out of the hospital for hiring nurses that are too stupid to read?

I know there's a nursing shortage and that nurses are overworked as it is. However, when it comes to life-saving medicine, you don't blindly hook up the IV. You check the lable and double check it if it's wrong. But of course, it's never really anyone's fault, is it?

We's Fixin to Pray, Ya'll!

For those of you who haven't heard, Georgia's not doing so well on the water front. We've been in a drought for months now, and I'm dreading the day when the water commission says, "we're going to ration water usage. We'll turn it on for x amount of hours in the morning and x amount of hours in the evening."

I shouldn't be worrying about water rations, though - 'cause sweet Baby Jesus, we're gonna PRAY FOR RAIN, ya'll! And the Heavens above are gonna shower us all with plentiful rain!

Can you believe this? http://www.ajc.com/metro/content/metro/stories/2007/11/07/droughtpray_1108.html
Yes, it's true. Govenor Sonny Perdue has called a PRAYER SERVICE to pray for rain.

Whatever happened to the separation of church and state? I was raised Catholic, and I don't have a problem with anyone who wants to pray, but seriously - did prayer stop and cure the destruction of Hurricane Katrina or the Tsunami? Did it stop all the earthquakes on the west coast and tornadoes and floods in the midwest? Let's not forget that mixing religion with politics never, ever works out favorably.

Let's think about this. What about shutting down carwashes that don't recycle water and giving the owners monetary compensation? What about monitoring water usage and warning/fining those who use more than an allotted amount? What about, as I mentioned before, rationing water use? Hell, even Cobb County's idea of not serving restaurant customers water unless requested is a more logical step than holding a prayer service.

If I didn't know I was living in the Bible Belt before today, this definitely put the nail in the coffin. Let me buy my alcohol on Sundays, and I'll be happy to give you my tax dollars, but not to think up idiot solutions like holding a prayer service.

An Open Letter

Dear Guy Behind Me at the Stoplight in the (Ugly) Mercedes,

Hi! Hope you're having a great morning - it's nice to wake up on Friday and realize that it's officially the weekend. I'm always in such a good mood on Friday mornings, and today was no exception. I had in a Journey CD and was cranking "Separate Ways," and was getting to work in record time.

I'm sorry that you felt frustrated behind me in the left hand turn lane on Windy Hill. I know the light was green, but when there's oncoming traffic who also has a green light, and there's a steady stream of cars, I'm not able to make that turn without getting t-boned. You're really good at honking your horn! It was SO good, it was almost musical! I wanted to join in on your horn-honking chorus, but I was too busy waiting for a break in the stream of cars so I could turn left. I didn't mean to hold you up, friend! I just didn't want to cause an accident and keep even more people from getting to work on time.

I'm guessing you must have been in a hurry, because even though I had to turn on the yellow light because I was in the middle of the intersection, you turned as well (when the light turned red) and zoomed past me! I know it was rude to throw up my middle finger at you, but to my credit, I did wait until you were ahead of me in the other lane. I'm sorry, it's just that your incessant horn-honking hurt my ears. Besides, your 65mph in a 35mph zone just wasn't safe.

And so, I'd just like to pass on a friendly closing - if you EVER swerve into my lane and slam on your breaks right in front of me again, and then creep along at 5mph for ten seconds just to piss me off, I will have no problems calling the cops on you and your ugly car that you can't afford. How stupid are you? I thought you were in a hurry, and you just wasted MY time and yours. Although I didn't mind, because I was getting to work on time. Idiot. At least my finger doesn't almost cause an accident.

I hope you have a great weekend, new friend! Don't worry - your wife isn't screwing around on you because she doesn't love you. It's just because you have a small penis.

Hugs and Kisses!
Jen

I Just Wanted to See Slash...

Last night I went to the Alice in Chains/Velvet Revolver concert here in Atlanta. For those of you who don't know, Velvet Revolver is basically a hard rock supergroup made up of Scott Weiland (ex-Stone Temple Pilots frontman) and Guns'n'Roses (without fat Axl Rose). While Alice in Chains is great and all, I was there mostly for the Scott Weiland and Slash sightings.

So I'm sitting there, drinking a beer, rocking out, when Alice in Chains gears up for the last song in the set. All night, the big screens have been rotating different lasers and graphics, but during this last song, the screens became this anti-Bush/anti-war tirade. "Bush lied, thousands died" and "NO WAR" kept popping up, and it made me want to throw my beer at the screens.

It pisses me off that I paid for a ticket to hear music and I was subjected to an impromptu political rally. I rarely talk about politics for one reason: it starts an argument every single time. I vote when I'm supposed to, believe what I want to believe, and I don't force my beliefs down anyone's throat. We elected a leader for our country, and while I don't agree with everything he's done, I feel as an American that I should stand behind the concept of the UNITED States and support my country. He'll be out of office in a year, and we'll get to elect someone new.

Get crazy and divided during election time. Be passionate about a platform then. But once that person is elected, then dammit, stand behind him (...or her) in a show of solidarity for the U.S., not necessarily for the president.

If the Foo Fighters pull out any political B.S. tonight, I will dump my drink on Dave Grohl's head.

Some Odd Change

I'm sure you've all seen the commercials for Visa debit cards where everyone in line is cheerfully swiping debit cards at the cash register, and of course everyone is cheerful because using debit cards are what's making the line move so fast. Then comes the enemy - the one dreaded person in line who uses cash to pay. The line stalls, the chirpy music stops, and everyone glares at the clueless customer.

I am the most impatient person in the world, so I'm all for convenience. However, I also know that the Subway I frequent on my lunch hour has a slow card reader. It's one of the little ones where the cashier has to swipe and the customer has a teeny PIN pad just big enough for the numbers. It takes forever because the cashier prints out one copy for the store first, then a copy for the customer.

I decided I was going to be smart today and use the cash I, for once, had in my purse. I get to the register, politely say I had a Subway club, and yes, I would like the combo. The cashier announces that the price is $6.99, so I pull out six dollars, three quarters, two dimes and a nickel. $7.00. I hand it to the cashier.

The cashier accepted the money, stared at the change in his hand, looked quizzically at me, and then back down at his hand. I felt the happy music around me stop and the woman who ordered the tuna sub (double the mayo, double the cheese) behind me begin to tap her foot. Here stood before me a 40-YEAR-OLD-MAN who didn't know how to count change. I had completely baffled him! As I opened my mouth to explain exactly what he had in his hand, his light bulb went off and he slowly counted the change into the register and handed me a penny back.

Sure, it's great to move people through line as fast as possible, but watching a man take more time to count $7.00 in change than it would have to run a card through a machine was brutal. If a 40 year old couldn't do it, I seriously wonder about the kids who are going through elementary school math classes in the age of plastic. Math has never been a strong point of mine, but I'm glad that I can at least count change.

By the way, isn't "counting change" one of the very few requirements for working in a restaurant...?

Tabloid Fodder

Here's an embarrassing moment: electing to drive your boss and office guests to a business lunch meeting, and having to explain the several tabloid magazines that are on the backseat screaming headlines such as "BRITNEY'S NEW LOVER IS A WOMAN!"

"Uh...well...um...all the reading I do for my, uh, graduate classes is really draining, and, uh, sometimes I just need some, uh, mindless reading..."

Cool moms love JT!

I'm not ashamed to admit that I went to see Justin Timberlake in concert a few weeks ago. It was a damn good show - although he used to be a boy bander, you've gotta give the guy some credit. He played both the guitar and piano in the show, danced, sang, and he's produced his own stuff (which many "good" artists have yet to do). However, as I sat in my extremely close to the stage seat with my $8.00 beer, I began to ponder two observations about the crowd.

1. The girls who wore the shortest skirts possible and hooker heels, with hair perfectly in place and make-up slathered on. For the record, I wore a tank top, jean skirt, and flip flops - standard concert wear. The craziest outfit I saw was a girl with shorts that barely covered her ass, a corset, fishnets, and what were easily four inch stiletto heels. It was hysterical because I knew that in the back of these girls' minds, each one was secretly hoping Justin would pick HER out of the crowd and fall in love with her. Or at least bang her in the back of his bus. And it wasn't just the younger set - I saw a ridiculous amount of 40+ year olds with boobs hanging out! I'm sure these ladies are also the "cool moms!" around their kids' friends (watch "Mean Girls" - you'll understand what I'm talking about).

2. The dads that were there with teenage daughters. I don't know about you, but my dad wouldn't be caught DEAD at a Justin Timberlake concert. He would very nicely drive me to and pick me up, but step foot inside the arena? I laugh in your face! However, I saw one dad who was escorting his 15 or 16 year old daughter and her friends into the arena last night. The girls were dressed in the aforementioned manner (and definitely not a manner my parents would ever let me out of the house wearing when I was that age), and the dad had that creepy look on his face. He looked like he was the type of dad who hugs his daughter's friends just a little too long when they come to visit.

The crowd was easily 85% female, so Chris banked around 1,000 good boyfriend points last night for surprising me with the tickets (and excellent seats) and then going to the concert with me. He didn't sulk or sit there looking bored, but it might have been all the beer he drank to make the concert bearable for him. I now can't complain until at least November about anything he does.

...and Chris yelled, "I'm sorry Britney cheated on you, Justin!" during Cry Me a River. All the girls hoping to sleep with Justin gave him dirty looks. It was awesome.

The Disclaimer

Before I get any hate-mail saying that I’m a poser, I’ll be honest with you. Yes, I currently live in Atlanta. Yes, I love it. And yes, I don’t anticipate moving home to Cresco, Iowa anytime soon. However, I lived on a farm for 18 years, 22 if you count the college years. I’ve shoveled manure out barn windows, I’ve walked rows and rows of soybeans to pick fist-sized rocks out of fields, and I’ve watched my father wake up at 3:00am only to don a pair of elbow length plastic gloves to help out an animal in labor. And he wasn’t going out to the barn in 20 degree December weather to tell the animal to “breathe deep.”

I always rolled my eyes at my parents’ “when I was your age, I walked to school uphill both ways” stories. Now that I’m 25 and have had the rose-colored glasses off for a few years now, I know what they’re talking about. The internet and news feeds of today make information about celebrities, politics and the general state of the world readily accessible. While I’m already in shock at the stupidity of my peers (Britney Spears, anyone?), I really fear for the peers of my 13 year old brother, especially since they have the Lindsay Lohans of the world to look up to.

About me: I don’t see the point in owning a $300 purse. My parents did not pay for my college education. First impressions mean a lot to me. I worked 50+ hours a week when I first moved to Atlanta – because I was broke. I think people who have had cosmetic surgery looked better before their procedures. I’m 5’8’’ and 149 pounds – and I like it. I’m not afraid of eating a hamburger loaded with cheese. I think everyone should work in retail or restaurant/bar service at some point in their lives. My living room still does not have curtains or anything on the walls because I’m not going to rack up credit card debt just so I can have a nicer place than my friends. I can’t bear to spend the same amount on a piece of clothing as I would on my car payment. And lastly, although I hated farm work growing up, I wouldn’t have traded what it taught me for the world – to be a money conscientious, responsible, hard-working individual who knows nothing is entitled to me. I have to earn respect, recognition and friendship on my own, and no amount of money or people connections in the world will lead to a true form of any of the aforementioned things.

Oh yes. And I also learned to always wear underwear and to take a cab when I'm drunk. So what if I didn't learn that on the farm? Thanks Lindsay and Paris!