Disappointing!!

My television shows have left me at a loss for words over the past couple of weeks, especially the ones of the reality variety. I know, I need to get a life.

But, come on, REALLY?!

AND

Are you freaking kidding me?

AND

What in the WORLD were you thinking?

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Let the boycotts begin.

Yippee ki-yay!!

Thanks to my friend, Ashley, I have had this song in my head ALL bloody week……..

And I can’t get it out!!!!

Somebody, please kill me – kill me now!!!

Purrrrr-ty

So, I have a confession.

Thanks to my cheeky Australian mother, who is obsessed with all things BBC, I am now a huge fan of “The Graham Norton Show,” a late night comedy talk show which airs mainly in the UK.

The host, Graham Norton, has to be one of the most ridiculous people I’ve ever come across. He says and does some of the most cheeky and asinine things to his guests (and the audience, for that matter), and pulls stunts/plays games that can only be described as insane. He has a particular fascination with bashing Amy Winehouse, and his comments about her bring me much enjoyment. If you get BBC in your cable package, and enjoy cheeky, slightly off-color humor, I highly recommend watching this show. It will change your life.

Anyway, the other day Graham was showing the audience pictures from a book he’d found called “Why Paint Cats.” Apparently, this comedy book, written by New Zealand author Burton Silver, describes the practice of “cat painting.” Now, when I say “cat painting,” I don’t mean painting pictures of cats, but rather, painting on cats. I just about died with laughter as he showed some of the pictures. Literally, I almost did.

Okay, in all fairness, some of these paint jobs are actually quite beautiful. And, they must have taken the artists hours upon hours to complete.

But, I mean, REALLY!! Who does this?

I just had to share. Here are a few of my favorites:

And my all time favorite……

Side note: So, after I started writing this post, I found a couple of websites that claimed that these pictures were not real, and that the “paint” on the cats was actually added digitally. The author, however, refuses to confirm or deny this claim.

Personally, I choose to believe that the cats were really painted. It’s just more fun that way.

Why I love my job

I think that it is absolutely hilarious that, no matter how old we get, given the right circumstances, we can revert right back into child-like behavior.

As a single gal, I have the opportunity to revert quite often (hello, can you say “brownies for dinner, please?”). But that’s my personal life. You would think that in my work life – my professional life, no less – things would be much more mature.

Yeah, not really. In fact, it might be worse.

This has been strongly underscored to me from a few recent events that have occurred lately at work. One of my managers, Carrie, likes to plan out little games for us whenever there is a holiday. Whether it is “Pin the Tail on Cupid” or “Four-Leaf-Clover Roulette,” she always thinks of something creative. And there are prizes, too, usually consisting of some sort of candy and/or cash.

However, among all of these fabulous holidays with all of their silly games, there are two favorites – Easter and Cinco de Mayo. And we eagerly look forward to them every year.

For Easter, Carrie hides 30 Easter eggs all over the OR.

As you could imagine, there are literally hundreds of places to hide these eggs, and Carrie doesn’t even try to make it easy for us. We anxiously wait all day for the eggs to be hidden, until finally, a voice comes over the loud speaker announcing “The 8OR Annual Easter Egg Hunt has officially begun!”

Then all hell breaks loose.

Everybody starts running around like crazy people, like it is the day after Christmas, and each Easter egg is a $20 flat-screen TV. We frantically start digging through drawers of syringes, dumping out boxes of surgical drapes, and scaling the instrument tray shelves. The whole time we are screaming and laughing and squealing with glee. Any stray passer-by might think they have mistakenly entered the psychiatric ward.

This year, I only found two eggs (each worth a dollar), but I had the time of my life in the hunt!

For Cinco de Mayo (which is today), we usually have a piñata, and this year was no exception. We dressed said piñata up to look like one of our least favorite surgeons (he is a notorious monster) – and boy was it therapeutic to take a whack at him.

We strung him up in one of the empty rooms between two IV poles, and had the time of our lives. Forget the fact that we were swinging a huge stick around mere feet from equipment that cost literally hundreds-of-thousands of dollars. Oh, and the fact that surgery was going on in another room just around the corner. Quite trivial, if you ask me.

Money and candy went flying all over the place as we gutted our poor idiot surgeon, and I truly don’t think I have laughed that hard in a very long time.

 

My manager, Yoly, being spun around.

 

 

 

 

 

Doree had a particular fascination with the piñata’s crotch.

 

I knew there was a reason I didn’t play sports in high school.

 

 

 

Mariana and Marisol. You know, for being 7 months pregnant, Mariana sure managed to get a lot of candy.

 

 

 

 

 

“Dive, dive, dive!!”

 

 

 

 

Now, that’s the kind of bouquet I’d like to receive!

 

 

 

Oh, and I got the big prize this year – an honor I had yet to attain. That’s right, I got the fiver!!