Trouble Maker by Leah Remini

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SPOILER ALERT!!!!

4 out of 5 stars

I was “excited” to read this book. Though perhaps excited is not the correct term. I have always been interested in “religions”. What? Why? How? As in what brought them to the religion? Why did they choose that religion over others? And how did the stay or leave?

Of course, Scientology always fascinated me because it was founded by a man who authored sci-fi books. As in fictional. Furthermore-science fiction. It boggles my mind that people are lead to believe this is the right way to go.

Not that I think it was either right nor wrong. I think if any religion or sect benefits you to be a healthier human (and healthy towards other humans), it’s a good thing. I also think all religions can lead you into being negative too. I think it’s a matter of how much you take from it.

You read about stories of Scientology. You read about how they want you to disassociate with people who have left the church or who have outright spoken badly about the church. In my view, I don’t think any religion is good if they want you to separate from your loved ones. I also think it’s astonishing that a facility/church/religion is allowed to send kids off, without their parents, and basically do slave labor in ill institutions.

Having said that-I have never been in one myself. So I can only go by what I’ve read from ex-member’s experience.

I expect a celebrity to do some name dropping and Remini doesn’t shy away from that. Because I expected it-I was okay with it. What I liked about Remini’s book is that she has nothing to lose but at the same time everything to lose speaking out “against” the church.

Nothing to lose because I think a lot of people are supporting her and I think some other big names have since left the church as well-though in a quieter manner. Everything to lose because she is in the world of Hollywood where people view Tom Cruise as a KING (why? I don’t get it, I never cared for his movies or moreso for him as an actor) and it appears that the world of Scientology views him as just that and perhaps this is why he likes that world? According to Remini-Cruise is not treated like other members of the church. Cruise is catered to. When Cruise entered Celeb Centre-everyone leaves. When Cruise is trying to have a date-Scientology caters to try to do everything they can to hook him up with another Scientology. Much like arranged marriage/dating. So says Remini.

Remini also makes mention of them trying to get her to recruit her friend Jennifer Lopez. Which is odd because in the book Remini mentions that Lopez’s father is a Scientologist. I would think that if J-Lo’s dad cannot get her into the religion-why/how could anyone else? Though I remember when Lisa Marie Presley married Michael Jackson-there were rumors that LMP was to try to recruit MJ into Scientology. Money follows money, afterall.

You also read about Scientologists makes like miserable if you speak out against the church. Which is and why I give Remini a lot of kudos and that to her husband, family, and friends for staying by her side.

Not to mention-Remini questioning the acts of Scientology. Asking their members to donate money for Katrina relief and when Remini question why she didn’t see any members going there and handing out water, etc-she was given the run around, etc. Then there is the head of the church who attends Cruise’s wedding NOT with his wife but with someone else. Which, I would agree, is weird because that’s a high profile wedding-why wouldn’t a higher up in the church, who is supposedly close to Cruise, bring his wife?!? I think she’s right to question the wife’s whereabouts.

Since Remini grew up in Scientology-you do have to wonder if she is/was more privilege to know more of the ongoings of Scientology than lets say the likes of Tom Cruise and Kirstie Alley, Presley & Lisa Marie? All celeb status and thus probably did not witness the hole in the wall hotel that young teens and pre-teens had to clean and when the work was done could not sit by the pool and crap sum of money.

Along with the amount of money the average Joe shells out for the teachings and rankings of Scientology levels. Perhaps this is not what the every day celeb sees because they are probably scooted up in rankings without doing the dirty work. Just pay x millions of dollars and poof-like magic, you’re there-at the top.

I “understand” Remini’s mothers mission towards the church, Remini touches a tad bit on it in the book. Just before the release of this book, I did tweet Remini’s mother (due to the reality show “It’s All Relative” she’s accessible on Twitter—the show, by the way, is hilarious) and asked if she was going to write a memoir and her journey too? She, unfortunately, responded with a “no”. Writing about one’s life is not for everyone. I, personally, LOVE memoirs from others and would definitely like to read it. Perhaps in due time, Remini’s mom will reconsider.

Overall, I definitely give this a 4 out of 5 stars. I recommend it for anyone that enjoys a Hollywood story and/or likes to read about Scientology.

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Did You Know…Bullying

Did you know that October is National Bully Prevention Month (among other things)? I did not know that until the other day when I was on facebook. A group that I am in tends to do “Today is….”

In particular, according to STOMP Out Bullying,:

  • October 5th-Blue Shirt Day
  • Week of October 12th-Make friends with someone you don’t know
  • Week of October 19th- Stand up for others
  • Week of October 26th- information on how students can participate.

Although I think it’s very important to discuss bullying (being a victim myself)-I also think it’s important that awareness occurs EVERY day of EVERY month. I also think it’s important to extend this to not just students or youth.

Every day, someone-somewhere is a victim of bullying. Either by verbal, physical, or emotional abuse. Targeted for any reasons…you’re black, you’re white, you’re skinny, you’re fat-honestly there is no bounds for not being bullied. It is also targeted to any age, gender, or personality. I mean look at facebook and twitter. People randomly want to spewout hatful things to people that they do not know. Recently.. the basketball player Odom. I was on twitter the other night and people on gossip, even Kardashian and the like-random people would make jokes, poke fun, and ridicule someone. Someone that they do not really know. Either be it directly or indirectly say hurtful things. I read someone post “Well, that should make people realize that you shouldn’t make connections with the Kardashian.”

Ummm-what? Now I’m no fan of the Kardashian. I really only see their likeness on news clips but this is implying that the Kardashian helped Odom spiral. Don’t you think that’s hurtful to the Kardashian family?

Here you have someone who is fighting for their life because of the actions of THEMSELVES and their ADDICTIONS and placing blame on the person and/or any and all connections that they had in their lifetime. As a nurse, I know addictions are a very serious ordeal. It’s a disease, like cancer. Some people still do not get this and even some do and still get their kicks from essentially bullying Odom, Kardashians, the Brothel, basketball, his family.

I just think “if this was you, how would you like to read this about yourself? about your loved ones?”

And does them being “celebrities”-does that make them open season to target? No, I don’t think so. This goes to the woman who sued “her nephew”. The mentally handicapped person who is being laughed at on a youtube video. The list can go on.

I was bullied in my day an age. It is NOT okay. There have been a few times where it was significant…the time when I was physically assaulted on the bus-I went to class that day and eventually was suspended based on my behavior later in the day. I’m not sure I would have had the behavior/attitude if I wasn’t assaulted on the bus.

Or the time I was physically abused in 7th period English class WHILE the teacher was in the room-she did nothing, then proceeded to make an excuse for him.

This brings me to a problem that we have in society. We excuse or ignore the behavior of the bully. The other day, on the local radio, a wife wanted the husband to bring the girls to school because there are issues on the bus. The wife wants this because she doesn’t want her kids to endure senseless words. The husband thinks they should ride the bus and just deal with it.

Neither of this address the root of the problem…the bully. Let’s just ignore. Let’s just work around it. How does this solve the problem? of bullying? There is no consequences put down to the bully. The girls shouldn’t stop riding the bus…the bully should be suspended or expelled from the bus. The bully should be held accountable.

The situation in the 7th period English class-after the physical abuse endured by my bully. I eventually stopped crying, got up, flipped my desk over, stormed out, and before slamming the door-I looked at everyone (including the teacher) and said “Fuck you all”. I didn’t bother going to the office because like the parents mentioned above-nothing would have happened to the bully. Instead I went and sat at the end of the hall. The teacher followed me out, sat next to me and said “David has had a rough life…”

I stopped listening. I understand she was trying to put his behavior in prospective but it is essentially not only excusing his behavior but excusing her neglect to. What about his rough life? What about MY rough life? My mother was self medicated alcoholic, who moved us around a lot, who eventually married my step father. Who was also a self medicated alcohol who choked my mother which lead us to stay at the local Woman’s & Children’s shelter for a few months. Just to be woken up at 2:30 am, pack a bag and run to catch a greyhound to my step-father’s reservation in the next state. My step-father had 4 boys. One was inappropriate with my sister. Another son sexually assaulted me when I was 7 (he was about 17/18). All this happened before my 7th grade English class. So yes…tell me again how much of a rough life David has had?!?

So because of my rough life-that should give me a ticket to treat others like crap? NO. Stop excusing and giving them a free ride to do what they want. Not only does it hurt the victim, but it hurts them!

I eventually dropped out of high school, eventually got my GED, eventually moved 1300 miles without a job and perm place to live, eventually went to college and graduated as a nurse. I’m not sure where David went after middle school. I know at one point he was in jail/prison. Am I, was I happy about that? NOPE, not at all. Seeing other people happy about that? NO. Seeing other people suffer is not my goal in life-even if it’s my bully. I want them to get HELP. I want them to make themselves a better person.

Bottom line-STOMP out the bullying by not excusing the behavior!

A Song That Sparks a Memory.

I am driving in the car and when a certain song comes on I am always taking back in time. I am sure I am not the only one that does this. There are three particular songs that brings me back to a time when my mother owned a bar. They are Stevie Wonder’s “I Just Called To Say I Love You”. Following by Springsteen’s “Dancing in the Dark”. And finally “Footloose” theme song. Among others.

Everytime I hear “Dancing in the Dark” I think about playing arcade games. My mother had 2 plus a pinball machine. There was usually Donkey Kong and Pac Man. My favorite was Pac Man but I played both. Always for “free”. I either got quarters from the cash register or they opened the coin compartment. I always had to stand on a stool to reach the buttons.

I took so many quarters that my mother always joked and said that I was going to run the bar dry. 🙂

We lived above the bar. It was a small apartment. I remember the kitchen being yellow. I recall, my sister and I were out with my grandfather and we came home to my mother sitting at the kitchen table, smoking a cigarette. Sitting in the dark. Then we heard the flapping of wings sound. There was a bat. She had the window open so it could fly out and it eventually did. I was impressed that she just sat there, patiently.

Another time, my sister was “playing pool”. And Frank joked around with her. They placed bets on who would win. It was a $1 bet. My sister lost and ended up paying. She handed him a $1 food stamp. 🙂

I would always go into the bar and sit at the counter (when I wasn’t playing video game) and do my homework. One day I went there though because mom was behind the bar. I have a thick, green, pus filled thumb. She suggested that I soak it in warm salt water. And I did. I sat there and whenever someone sat next to me, I was excited to show them my ill thumb. It probably occurred because I always bit my fingernails (still do).

We ended up losing the bar. My mother always gave away the beer to “friend’s”. The last day there was scary though. We were quietly in the bar, packing things up. She must have known they were coming eventually. All of a sudden we hear knocking. My mother tells me “be very quiet and go to the cellar.” And we did just that. I remember crouching. I remember her looking out the windows. Eventually whoever was knocking left. When we left the premise, I saw a large sign on the door. At this time, I didn’t know what it was. Looking back, of course I knew what it was.

Overall, it was a good experience. Granted probably not a place you’d want a child but in the mid 1980s; it wasn’t uncommon.

~~~~~

At the beginning of the year, I’m volunteering on a medical mission trip. Click this link >HERE< if you wish to donate any money. It’s completely volunteer and will cost me at least $3600 (not including the money that I will not be earning for those two months). Any amount is appreciated.

Enjoying the Moment

Where I’ve Been:
I had deep thoughts of suicide when my grandmother died (I was 9). I remember a couple of incidents where I probably came home from school, after being treated horribly, going into my room and crying. And looking at a bottle of pills. It could have been something as simple as a bottle of Aspirin or Tylenol. I was ten at that time-I thought it may work. Looking at the bottle and thinking about my life and what it was or will be. How can I continue if people keep treating me like this? I did not want to endure it. I also remember another time, taking a sharp kitchen knife and going into my room. Self cutting was never my thing because I knew it would just create more pain but I do remember thinking of holding it up and aiming just to the left of my sternum and thinking about jabbing it into my heart. I figure that is where the blood pumps, that probably would be the fastest way to go! If I slit my wrist, I think I probably would have stopped as soon as it hurt, never going deep enough to make a difference. I never thought about hanging myself, as I thought that would be a slow death and I did not want to suffer anymore. And though my grandfather had guns-aside from the BB gun, I did not know how to work them and not to mention I did not know where my grandfather kept them. My mother never owned a gun.

But I never went thru with it. I am not sure why. I do not know if I felt, deep down, maybe I will have a chance later in life or not. I do not know if I saw the light deep in my thoughts when my eyes closed and tried to envision the future.

In the early 1990s, I remember watching Free Willy and watching the music video before the movie started. It was called “Will You Be There” by Michael Jackson. I watched him move. Of course, everyone knew who Michael Jackson was but I never really paid much attention to him or his music. Prior to this realization, I did not think about him or what he represented-including Thriller, Billie Jean, Bad, Smooth Criminal, the moonwalk, the sequined glove.

I saw the Will You Be There video and I was just mesmerized by his movement. So much so that I rewund the tape after the (music) video and watched it again. I, again, did not really pay attention to the lyrics but just the man himself. At the end of the music video, I had to rewind it again and again. I was finally paying attention to what the song was and the lyrics. I was hooked right there. It was before the 1993 allegations and I knew that I was a forever fan. I actually listened to the lyrics of “Will You Be There” and they spoke to me. I was like “WOW! He understood where I was coming from!”

“Hold me like the river Jordan
And I will then say to thee
You were my friend.
Carry me like you were my brother
Love me like a mother
Could you be there?”
These lines describe my life that all I want is a friend to count on. Or a mother to be able to soothe my hurt and pain. A guidance for a young child to right a wrong. For anyone to love me. The way that I am. For all that I am. For anyone to listen to me. For anyone to protect me. For anyone to hug me.

“When wary, tell me will you hold me
When wrong will you scold me
When lost will you find me?”
My mother was there physically but mentally she had her own issues. She could barely guide her own life and well being much less ours. This was not her fault. I was very intune as a child to know that the guidance was not there. That she could not help it. It was an illness. She indeed loved us the way that she knew how. Inturn though, I missed a lot. I did not understand why people were the way that they were. I did not understand why I was born different. I did not understand why people treated me different. I did not have a teacher to say it’s not me, it’s them. I did not have an authority figure to step in and say “you are fine the way you are. You are perfect”. In part, when it came to my mother. I did not let this happen because I often did not tell her what I was going through in school, with my peers. It was partially my fault because I did not want to worry her. She had enough problems of her own. Often times she was working two jobs. She was trying to raise kids. At the same time, I felt that “how could no one NOT know? Hello, I was physically different? You are supposed to know that people are not kind in the world to those that are not normal.” Again part of this was my fault because even during the all day facial clinic when I had to talk to a therapist/social worker-I pretended that life was good. It was not. I was depressed. I felt embarrassed of myself. Of ME. I felt like I was alone in the world. I understand that people cannot and should not assume.

“But then they told me
A man should be faithful
And walk when not able
And fight ‘til the end but I’m only human”
This struck me because you are supposed to go through life pretending life is good. Your world is good. Everything is fine even if deep down you’re hurting. Everyone is supposed to continue life like everything is peachy, even if it is not. You’re not supposed to talk about the bad. You’re not supposed to air your “dirty laundry”…life is full of rainbows, lollipops, and happy unicorns.

“Everyone’s taking control of me
Seems like the world’s got a role for me
I’m so confused will you show it to me?”
You’ll be there for me and care enough to bare me.”
For me it seemed like people had control of me. I was an emotional and verbal punching bag for me peers. That was their role for me. In my mom’s world, I was quiet and perfect. I did not do much wrong. I did not step on toes. In my sister’s world, I was the smart one. Always getting the good grades because I did not have a social life and my life remained in books. In everyone’s eyes-they have their own role. In my eyes, I was a lost soul. I did not know what to do with myself. I did not want to endure daily teasing. I did not want to avoid school. I did not want to avoid people. I did not want to stay inside my room because that was the safest place to be. It was lonely.

“Love me and feed me
Kiss me and free me
I will feel blessed.”
“Lift me.
Lift me up slowly
Show me you care.”
Show me that I mean something. My peers often disregarding me. Someone that didn’t appear to have feelings or a heart. I was no one. I was a void in a human body.

“Need me.
Love me and feed me
Kiss me and free me
I will feel blessed”
Guidance. Life. Love. Hugs. Pat on the back. Security. Those are the important things in life. Those are the things that matter to the human soul.

I watched this video over and over again. I listened to the lyrics. I decided to figure out what album it was on and purchase it. And I did just that. I fast forwarded it to “Will You Be There” of course and then I listened to the song right after. It was “Keep the Faith” in the USA (it’s my understanding that other pressings had a different order for songs). I listened to that song too. It was a bit edgier. But the lyrics were strong and powerful. A song with a great message. This song following Will You Be There-I felt like Michael Jackson was talking to me. Not really but in a sense. Like he knew how some people felt in the world. Lost, alone, not being able to trust-with the lyrics of WILL YOU BE THERE. To a song of hope, triumph, you can do it attitude with KEEP THE FAITH. It was a gift that it was in order in that manner. It made me, who was struggling with who she was, to listen and understand. In return it opened his life to me.

The song KEEP THE FAITH:

I started paying attention to him and his life. He was not a perfect human. Who is? He had flaws. He had self doubt. He clearly did not like the way he looked, perhaps from his upbringing of his father Joseph Jackson. But did that constitute people criticizing him? Did that mean he was fair game for names and jokes and digs? Did that mean that he was not human? Did that mean he did not care? Did that mean he did not have feelings? Granted he was so rich and secluded (because he had to be) that did not mean that he still did not have the core that was in all of us. That still did not mean that he was untouchable emotionally. That did not mean that his soul could not be broken either.

The behavior and treatment of others towards him just made me want to follow him even more and understand him even more. I believe this was the case for a lot of his fans-which is why he had such a great following. He was no more of a freak than anyone else in this world. His treatment by others just made me want more of him.

Where I Am:
Because of my self reliance, I have come along way. This journey could not be made possible without people in my life. From my mother-who taught me not to give up. I saw that in her because no matter how many obstacles life gave her (either her own doing or others) she continued on the best she could. My best friend during my adult years. Without her, I wouldn’t remain sane through Nursing School. My therapist & now friend-without her I wouldn’t have been able to bounce things off and she taught me the way life could be, not just the way life has to be. My friends/co-workers-without them, I couldn’t have made it through nursing school either. Coming into work after a test that I practically failed, cheering me on that I could do it. My clinical instructors and teachers-“C equals RN” is the motto of Nursing School. I remember one clinical teacher saw my test score and was going to take me aside from the rest and say “what’s going on?” Instead she said it in front of my other peers and continued “what I am seeing in clinical is NOT what I see in those tests scores. So much so that I went to the director.” That made me feel good and encouraged me. Not to leave out my patients through the years-teaching me that life is short. Teaching me that I am a good person. Teaching me that we shouldn’t take life for granted.

Where I Am Going:
Who really knows? All I know is that I am enjoying the moment. Preparing for my medical mission trip to Madagascar. Than who knows? I know that I am enjoying traveling and seeing other cultures. Something that I never got to experience growing up because we just couldn’t afford it. In 2013 I went on an African Safari. 2014 Inca Trail, Machu Picchu in Peru. 2015 Japan and Mt Fuji. Not to mention the career that can take me throughout the country in America and perhaps even further (I’ve talked with American nurses working in Australia).

I am lucky. I know it can be taken away at anytime. Life is not promised. Life is not meant to be all rainbows and unicorns. I’m now just enjoying the moment.

To write a memoir or not write a memoir?

In my previous post, I mentioned about writing a memoir. There are so many things that go into writing a memoir:

  • Who am I writing it for?
  • What’s it’s purpose?
  • Who would be in it?
  • What time would it surround?
  • Who could be offended?
  • Who would approve/disapprove?

Other questions often go through my mind as well:

  • What if it’s not interesting enough?
  • what if people do not like it?
  • What if I do not like it?
  • Will I regret it after I click submit?
  • Will I be too vulnerable after I write it?
  • Is it worth it, to open up?

Among other questions and concerns. I certainly go through many more thoughts than just those listed. Which is why I go back and forth.

Telling my story to people, just in general conversation-a lot of people are impressed that I have made it well for myself. They often tell me that I have a lot to offer other people that would help them through their situations. I once worked with a friend who was going to school for neuro psych. She needed volunteers to run thru her tests/study. I said sure without knowing the full details but she had me in mind to begin with because of my family history vs my personal being, etc. These were general tests, almost like IQ tests. She told me, “I think you would be good for the study because of your background.” And of course, as I mentioned in my last post-my 9th grade English teacher said that I should write one.

I came from a broken home. My father left when I was about 3. There was question of him doing some inappropriate things, however-I do not know him, so I cannot speak on that. Eventually my mother re-married. My step-father had 4 boys. One of which did something inappropriate with my sister. The other, sexually assaulted me when I was 7 (he was about 18). My step-father physically choked my mother. We spent 3 months in a Woman’s and Children’s Shelter. Only to leave and one morning my mother woke us up from a deep sleep, we took the city bus to the greyhound station to take another bus 5-6-7 hours to my step-fathers house in another state. They would fight, we would move back to our home state-the wound make up, we wound move back with my step-father; fight and leave, make up and go back. Back and forth, multiple times. In fact, I was held back in the SAME year at the two schools; the teacher in my home state said it was because I was “missing too much school” (though I wasn’t); the one in my step-father’s state said it was because they “couldn’t understand me”.

By the way, I was born with cleft lip & cleft palate. I was a preemie, I had about 15/16 surgeries from about 6 weeks until I was about 18. I had a rhinoplasty (nose job) when I was 14. So I looked physically different from my peers. I had/have a speech impediment. I was suicidal from about 9 until I was about 13 years old. I was suspended from school 3 times; including fighting with a boy. I was physically assaulted in middle school, while the teacher was present and did nothing to stop it.

I eventually did go to high school, I managed to go to 4 different high schools in a year and a half (my mother called herself a gypsy). I, however, never felt like I fit in. I eventually dropped out of high school; took my GED. Moved on the other side of the country without a job or perm place to live-by myself. Sooner or later-I made my way into college-eventually graduating Nursing School and now I’m a nurse that travels.

My mother had a mental illness, often self medicated with alcohol. Won a large amount of money at BINGO, bought a bar, lost the bar. Was never physically abusive but had her share of being emotionally abusive/manipulative.

Every now and again, I read on a cleft lip/palate board of someone struggling. Struggling with life. Wanting to give up. Hating people. Hating themselves. Hating the way they look. Hating the way they sound. Hating the way people are treating them. Not being able to see the bigger picture in life. That life can be good. When I read things like that, I want to write the memoir. But I think will those types even read it?

Who Likes to Read Memoirs?

When I was in the 9th grade, my English teacher suggested that I should be a writer (not necessarily because of my spelling, grammar, etc). He continued and went on to say that I should write a memoir-saying that I should write my story for others people. Which was an odd comment for him to make. Other then him seeing I was born with cleft lip & palate, I was a very quiet, shy, somewhat socially awkward student. I certainly did not express things that happened in my life. My mother worked in the cafeteria and I do wonder if they struck up conversations?

Long story short, I eventually dropped out of high school. Eventually I obtained the GED. I decided to start writing my story. Not for anyone in particular but for therapeutic reasons. It was never complete but I tucked it away and saved it on those floppy discs that computers used to use.

In recent years, I have went back and forth on the idea. Do I? Should I? Do I have something to share? If so, how am I able to express it without being boring? How can I express it in a novel format? Those things I continue to pounder.

Since the internet and since the comings of Facebook. I was lucky enough to come across a group on facebook geared towards Memoirs. Not really for authors of memoirs (though there are a lot of authors or potential authors) but those who enjoy a good triumph or two. So I came across We Love Memoirs.

It certainly does have to be one of the most friendliest groups on facebook. There are times when we bicker/disagree but never even close to being disrespectful. It is weird how that works too since there are over 2500 members. How can you happily be in a place that doesn’t feel caddy, shallow, mean? We Love Memoirs is the place to be. A lot of the topics are not memoir related. After all, we need a break from real life. But then again, there are many topics that are; including Spotlight Sundays-which spotlights a memoir and is a Q&A session with the author, Member Mondays-Q&A session with a particular member, and Whaddyathink Wednesday question of the week related to reading/writing memoirs. We have random giveaways, quizzes, etc. There are members that often share free or reduced cost memoirs that they come across. The only rule is-no promoting yourself. Feel free to promote other memoirs that you have read.

Now is a good time to join the group. On August 31st-we will be celebrating TWO YEARS success on facebook. I haven’t been a member that long, unfortunately, but you wouldn’t and couldn’t tell-they are just as friendly as if I was an original member. I am thankful for Alan Parks and Victoria Twead. You have to watch out for “Eric” though-he likes to steal nuts!

#entertaining, #facebook, #friendly, #groups, #kind, #memoir, #reading

Hello world!

My name is Paula. Though I am a travel nurse, there are many aspects in my life that are not related to work. So in these pages you’ll probably see a number of posts about being a nurse or healthcare. My thoughts on healthcare overall and what I am seeing throughout the country. Maybe a story or two about happy and sad moments as a nurse. Perhaps some frustration as well? Though I will not be displaying names, ages, or specific locations. I will be going on a Medical Mission early 2016 (a lifelong dream). I will probably place a separate tab for that particular time, at that time.

I also love to travel and plan on traveling more as time goes on. Be it locally or overseas. As a child, we never had a real vacation. We went to the cabins, fishing, swimming, local park,  moved back and forth between two states (not for vacation). Therefore, now that I’m an adult and making a living, I am making a plan on SEEING the world. Sometimes with friends, sometimes by myself. I will tend to focus on the local people of whatever area that I am. I will sometimes post photos of nature or animals (they are my favorite things to photograph after all).

Through the years, I’ve gone back and forth about writing a memoir about my childhood-the pros and cons of writing it. Thus, sometimes that type of topic will come up time and again. Some stories about my childhood and adults thoughts that go along with it while I’m looking back. I’m a reader first…a writer is way down the line (grammar is not my strong point). We will see how that pans out.

I’m always open to questions, concerns, and/or suggestions. So please do not hesitate in dropping me a line.

Full disclaimer–my thoughts, opinions, views are of my own. They are in no way a reflection of my employers, place of employment, friends, family, or any other organization I associate with, etc.

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