December 14, 2013

I sometimes try and think about what it is that I'm doing with my life. I get caught up in these big screen thoughts of purpose and meaning. I see visions of people I feel have/had purpose- Oprah- Gandhi- Martin Luther King, Jr- animal savers- Soldiers- and I can't get my mind around what the hell I'm doing. It's taken me some time to realize that the "what" isn't  actually some big bulk of future calendar pages that will mark my selfless mission to do something "meaningful". There won't be a tournament in my future that I will participate in to some how prove my worth to the world. I'm not sure if others think about this stuff. I would imagine they do, but to what extent is unknown to me. 

I'm a self described geek. I like the ideas of big thinkers. Learning the why of how some people think. How Zappos is the best customer service company in the world, how Disney is the happiest place on Earth. I read the books- ate them up. To be so effective on such a large scale is phenomenal.

So you can imagine my thrill that IU Health contracted the Disney Institute to help build a better company, a more satisfied staff, and I'll venture to guess a lower bottom line. My chance to see "it" in action. So exciting! Well- you can imagine my surprise to hear lots of grumbling and negativity around the staff having to attend the very thing I am so excited to be a part of- and after they attended it being more negative and crotchety for having to waste 2 hours of their time. WHAT?!!?? I feel so defensive about it like it is a personal attack on me. Of course it isn't but what gives?

I haven't been to "Strength Training" (as it's called). So I don't know what that 2 hours would look like to me. 2 more hours of pay. That's the only thing I can guarantee. So maybe it isn't fair of me to get on a soap box about it...but seeing that I actually read the Disney Leadership book..I think it gives me some credibility.

It's not about the paycheck people. It's not. This community of ours..you know as co-workers, is going to go through ups and downs, cut backs and growth, and at the end of the day what you are making a living at can actually be more meaningful and fulfilling to you if you want it to be. Our "Purpose in Life" isn't some distant event, it is in the very essence of who we are and what we do in our everyday life. It's holding the elevator. It's saying Thank You and what can I do for you. Our hospital is our home away from home. Pick up trash you might see on the floor because you have pride in YOURSELF, not the hospital. Do you want to be someone who has a mentality of "it's not MY job" or do you want to be someone who understands the value of small selfless acts. To hide in a corner during your shift and browse online because your JOB is done? Or maybe you want to be the person who sees that doing a few simple things can make a big difference for your co-workers and your patients? To be held in high esteem for your ....shall I call it kindness..of being someone that people WANT to work with..who WANT to be on your team. It's not a ME society anymore. It's an US. Those hospital beds have plenty of our own in them. When it's my turn to be a patient instead of a nurse I want caring nurses and you're fooling yourself if you think that caring only happens at the bedside. 

Thanks Tony Hseih and Walt Disney for inspiring me to want to be better.

Sincerely,

Brooke Albertson

November 4, 2013

To My Mother- Laurel Ann
You are celebrated today. Loved a little extra by those near you and by those across the miles. Having lived on this earth with you for 37 years, I know that there will be a quiet spot in your soul where you will visit today to compare where you are with where you thought you should be, would be, could be. Angry, sad, and maybe bitter for the life that you left un-lived, rehashing choices for a few breaths but in those final moments in that quiet seat of your soul, you'll feel grateful that you are still here. Trey will say to you "Nina- Happy Birthday" and you will Thank God that your life brought you to this very moment.
My eyes fill with tears, thinking that one day you will pass from this Earth, and I fear you'll never know what you meant to me and to the world.
You are Mom.  No wiggle room to be human. You had to be stronger. You had to be resilient. You had to be above emotions, pain, sickness, frustration and exhaustion. I try to remember you in my childhood as carefree...but you never allowed yourself that luxury. You were protector and savior. Cheerleader. Boss. You weren't just Mom, you were also Dad. Doing what had to be done. I can count on one hand the number of times I've heard you raise your voice, in 37 years. When inside, a war had to have been raging. And as children, teenagers, adults- your daughters always think we know more than you. How completely ridiculous of us.  The breadth of your patience and the depth of your forgiveness are greater than anyone I have ever met. You are one gracious woman.
Your style and tastes are such a testament to who you are in this world. You take something that was worn down, left behind, and thought to be unusable and you breathe new life into it. You give it a new purpose. You champion it's usefulness and introduce it back into the world. You've done this to old windows, doors, cans, records, vases, jars..and even me. In your eyes, everything deserves a second chance.
At my age, I'm not sure I will ever have children. I will never get the chance to take them school shopping, out for ice cream, trips to Florida, and my biggest regret would be that I would never get to mimic your sing song voice saying "Good Morrrrrrnnning, it's time to get uuuupppp!"
I love you Mom. Everyday. Happy Birthday.

Dear Lord,
Thank you for letting me share my life with such a truly amazing woman. Thank you for sending me someone to teach me about compassion, patience, strength, and beauty. A woman who's work ethic I am proud to say I inherited. Most of all Lord, thank you for sending me an Angel. Bless her life with good health, happiness and love. Your faithful servant, Brooke Albertson.

October 28, 2013

So there I was, looking into the sad eyes of a friend who was recounting the end of a relationship that had been going great. Funny...last week, this actually happened twice- (one couple 20 somethings, another 40 somethings). We've all been there, but then again, no story is alike and no tear falls the same way. What is alike is that it leaves every woman feeling that they are too much and not enough at the same time (borrowed that from a great book). Too needy, too emotional, too clingy, too high maintenance, too MUCH. Not casual enough, not carefree enough, not sexual enough, not into sports enough, not ENOUGH. My mind likes to have a lot of physical attributes- not pretty enough, not sexy enough, not skinny enough, laugh too loud at my own jokes. Whatever a woman's "too much's and not enough's" are they are a representation of all of our biggest fears being projected onto the loss of yet another guy. Ultimately, the big question always becomes..."What is wrong with me? Why am I not worthy of being loved?"
Which of course is horseshit.
And I'll tell you why.

I went out by myself about a month ago and had some drinks, meeting this guy and his female friend who were lots of fun. The guy was funny and quick witted- an actual match for the speed of my mind, but I wasn't at all attracted to him. We shared the usual stories of being divorced, no kids and what not. Ironically enough I got the female friends phone number, as she was a hoot too, a single chic, without kids who might be a fun wing man from time to time. The next week I get a text from the dude. Of course, I didn't know right away who it was and when he asked "Do you know who this is?" and I said "God" I laughed out loud at my own genius. He made a comment that he figured I would have asked his female friend for his number, which I didn't, and it was awkward, the end. Do you know that when discussing this with the chic, he is actually married with three kids? No joke. The moral to the story is this- there is not a damn thing wrong with anyone.

Men, women and children. We are all a bit off center for so many, many different reasons. When we try and bend and twist into what we think the ideal woman is, we just end up shooting ourselves in the proverbial vagina. As great as the vibe might be with a guy, as wonderful as things are going, and as awesome as the sex is- there is NO guarantee that it means squat. Enter the broken heart- the heart is bruised up from pride and an over active ego, but broken from losing the dreams of what could have been. The heart and mind are spastic bastards- yacking in our ears about it having to be our fault that another guy obviously rejected us for being such losers. Again- total horseshit. Really- the voices inside the head are mean spirited and crazy! So don't listen to that propaganda. Go ahead and think of cute baby names. Imagine your ideal wedding, honeymoon and the gorgeous house. What we must all do is stop LIVING for what we want the future to be and start making our lives actually happen for us today. Men come and go for stupid reasons. Afraid of commitment, mommy issues, daddy issues, too intimidated by a woman who really does have her shit together. Men will figure their own crap out when it's time. So stop beating yourself up for not finding "the one" in every great relationship. Life is a path of detours and potholes- enjoy the ride and make the most of the moment.

Dear Mother Mary- Men suck on a grand scheme when it comes to relationships, dating and love in general. If you could find it in your heart to kick them in the baby maker and straighten them out, we would be most happy and thankful.
Your grateful servant- Brooke-I-speak-for-all-amazing-women-who-have-put-up-with-this-horseshit-for-too-long-and-TOTALLY-not-bitter-at-all-Albertson.

September 22, 2013

So here I am, feeling a bit goofy blogging so soon after my last blog. But, there's something inside of me, a knowing that I feel I should share.

I've lived my life being restless. Restless to get out of high school and then college. Hurrying along the path of life. GET ME THERE. What does that mean? Get me to a place where I am comfortable breathing in my own skin. I know only one or two other people that have felt this similar unease. Wishing for peace and solitude. Finding that small piece of  heaven in our very own universe. From coast to coast I searched. Finding it in small pockets of time and emotion. Reaching out to hold onto it, but never getting it in my grip. There have been souls on my path, sign holders, of which way I should turn. I wasn't fluent in sign language. It's there. Even beyond my own fumbling ability, I can see it. But seeing and learning something isn't necessarily knowing it.

Living the life- the dream really, of success, love and happiness is not how you might imagine. A great love in a great city, the world at your feet: it's not there. Loving beyond reason with your entire being: it's not there. Giving more of yourself than you knew you had: it's not there. Taking every precaution, every simple act of faith, every step toward stability does not ensure that you'll get it right.

It's not out there. It's not in the car, the home, the job, the love of your better half. It's not in the amazing feeling of knowing you've been THERE; it's not in the stories of boy bands or celebrity sightings. I recently felt so sad because my dream life in Vegas was over and that my fourth trip to Paris is NOWHERE near to becoming a reality. That New York City will not see my presence any time soon and that 2002 was a long, long time ago. I've felt the stereotypical judgment of being who I am when I am me at this very moment. I am one person's dream and another person's nightmare. I am free. I am unrestricted in life. Money is my only limiter. My laugh can be shared with whom ever I want. My time can be spent completely selfishly because there is no one that relies on me besides my pets. I am capable of limitless things. I am alone.
I make great money and even though my credit was trashed in my divorce that doesn't stop me from moving forward.

I sleep as much as I want.
I exercise when I feel like it.
I drink when I want. Eat what I want.
I go out of town when I want.

You need to hear this.
Listen to me now.
Life is NOT this moment. They tell you it is. They tell you not to hold on to promises of the future because they are not guaranteed. Life is made up of memories and moments. There is truth in that but I beg of you to hear me.
Life begins when you know who YOU are. Not the daughter. Not the wife. Not the sister, cousin, girlfriend, best friend, enemy, co-worker, or mother. It's You who sits on the edge of tomorrow, with no regard of anything but your own volition to go forward- that is where life lives. Few have the chance to relish in that space. To dream and breath and belong in the entirety of themselves. What you find there, in that nanosecond, is that YOU are enough. No fancy clothes or designer anythings make a damn dent in that brief breath of forever. To glimpse the truth that nothing defines you but the walls of your own making. To realize that someone else's judgment of you is their own truth that has no basis of reality in your life. Your mirror is your mind. It is breakable, but it is also incredibly strong, durable and capable of reflecting what stands before it. Stand there in the strength of who you are.

YOU choose.
That feeling of happiness is yours...because it's you.
That anger, that frustration, is yours....because it's you.
Pain= you.
Laughter= you.
debt=you.
fear=you.
sickness=you.
LOVE=YOU.
choose wisely. It is in your power to be happy, healthy or miserable.
It is your right to live fully in love and fulfillment.
Feed yourself with the beauty that you find in life. In sunshine and rain. In the sweet tenderness of love for another. In an unrecognizable moment of pride. Yes... my friend, you are THAT amazing, and not just in that blink of an eye. It's a lifetime of awesome wrapped in the flicker of an instant. Trust me.

I love amazing cities. I love knowing that Paris, Las Vegas, Nashville, Boston and Orlando are like pieces of my soul. I love that music affects me to my core and that I hold a special spot in my heart for the less fortunate..people, animals, homes...you name it. I love that I can take care of a complete stranger with everything that I have and walk away in the morning knowing, ultimately, it is not in my hands. I know that for good, bad or ugly- I believe in who I am today. I am the best I have ever been and still the least of what I will one day be. And so are you. No one knocks on our door to give us a gold star for some good deed we might have done. There are no awards for best in class- because life isn't in a classroom. Feed the need to be better. Live the life that moves you forward towards fulfillment. Whatever YOUR fulfillment might be. That is where you find heaven.
I hope to see you there, now or in another life.
Always,
Brooke

September 18, 2013

I've been laughing a lot lately. Good belly laughs and it feels great. I think it really is the best medicine. For instance, today I took my 100 pound dog Beetle outside and as we were walking there was a big puddle from what looked to be the sewer backing up. I stopped and decided to just leap over it, sort of ballerina style. Very graceful, I'm sure you can imagine. I figured Beetle, big boned as she is, would just prance right through it. NO. She looked like she considered her options and then she "jumped" over the puddle. Ok. Ok. I will redefine the word jump in this instance...it was more of a waddle mid air. She cleared the puddle, partly. If she didn't have those pesky back legs she would have totally landed it! I was so astonished that I almost ran into the pine tree. I have never seen her be so proud of herself. Which is good because every time she attempts to get on the couch, I see a brief look of fear and despair as one back leg gets up and as if the sheer will of raising her nose as high as possible will bring the other back leg up she grunts and notches her nose up even higher...and dutifully, the back leg follows. She plops down exasperated, seemingly looking at me like "bring my food over here, I'm never moving again". But then sees the cat and goes flying off the couch ten seconds later. Silly dog. 

Let me take a poll...how drunk do you think someone would have to be, for them to be offered a helmet to wear? bwahahahaahaha...yes, I know a few people that meet this criteria fairly often. But seriously, you're having a great time- boozing and hanging with friends and someone says, hey, you need to wear this helmet because I think you've had too much to drink. I think I would be all shocked like..What! I'm not that drunk, and promptly test gravity by falling down. After I put the helmet on, I might then ask for knee and elbow pads- and it goes without saying, I would want a lid for my cup. In defense of the guy who inspired this, he was on a group beer bike ride..basically everyone pedals while drinking and the one guy who escorts the group steers you all around downtown. So, I suppose a helmet in this instance would be appropriate. Who in the hell wants to peddle while drinking? I mean, I prefer to do my shenanigans in places that let me express my inner dancing queen. Drinking on a bike? Does your butt not hurt as bad after sitting on it that long because you've been drinking? I would insist on an inappropriately loud horn to honk at strangers with because otherwise I would just feel like a douche bag. And what astonishes me are the dudes who came up with this whole idea.."hey dude...you know what would be cool...a big picnic table that holds a keg of beer in the middle."..."Dude! that would be awesome..we could put wheels on it and ride it around..how awesome would that be?!" "freakin awesome dude. pass that bud you're hogging". I might know a few guys who were the creators of this whole hot mess. 

Dear Baby Jesus,

If you can walk on water, and turn that water into wine, would you make a group paddle boat so people could paddle around drinking? Just curious.

Your faithful servant,

Brooke-not-without-my-helmet-Albertson

August 20, 2013

37. Not 36. Not 38.

37.

It's such an ugly number. With this attitude, it could end up being and ugly year. Not sure why I've got a bee in my bonnet about turning 37. 36 seemed so casual and full of life. 37 is like stubbing your toe on a chair in the dark..the chair you said to yourself hours ago you should move or you would end up stubbing your toe. In a nut shell, there is a tendency for a lot of bad language and possibly tears. I've been dreading this for some time. I can remember on my 36th birthday thinking...37 is gonna suck. Look. It sucks. Ain't it just a mystery how that happens?
I think for me the reason 37 is so painful is that it is the apex of the downhill slide. Don't ask me why 37 and not 35..I'm not Stephen Hawking, I don't know these things. He wouldn't know either because I just made it up. Apex. Yep.. downhill sliding...smack dab into a big ol pile of middle age. In a few more years, I will definitely be unable to have children. In a few more years, I will be seen as a "Cougar" (although some young folks think I am now, but I say NAY! 40 is the entry age for Cougar Town- again..my life, my rules.)
I don't look 40. See...I just skipped 37, 38, and 39. After 36------ 40. I may pass for a young 30's. I'm grateful really. It could be much worse...like no such thing as permanent hair color or sunscreen.
I'm trying to embrace it. I'm trying to not cry out for my youth to come back and sit with me for awhile. Hold my hand Young Brooke. Remind me that I really am an amazing specimen of a woman. That my memories of Paris, Venice, Berlin, Sydney, LA, New York and so on are the envy of young women everywhere. I have lived such an incredible life. I have been a witness to such a beautiful world.
I turn and realize it is not the reassurance of Young Brooke that I need. I need the wisdom of elderly Brooke. The lady with the twinkling eyes that laughs at my dramatic expense. Elderly Brooke whispers to me... if only you knew. She holds my thoughts softly. Letting them roll slowly over the worried mind of the present. Fears play tricks and try to build walls around my heart, but Elderly Brooke brushes them away..like a cobweb that hangs too low. Love. Happiness. Fulfillment. Sometimes feeling so out of reach, impossible really to even get a clear picture of them. She whispers that I am all of those things and more.
I smirk and roll my eyes. She laughs and shakes her head. "Trust Me. I know."
Well played Elderly Brooke.
Well played.

August 11, 2013

So there I was looking at these tiny little fruit flies buzzing around my beautiful bowl of fresh produce that I bought at a little farmer's market down the road. My exact thought was "Don't they have something they can put on the fruit, like bug spray, to kill these things" ..yes, that thought made me shake my head too. I've never denied that I am a complete jackass. I drive a Hybrid, not because it saves the Earth or lowers my "carbon footprint" or some such stuff, but because it came in a nice color and I hoped to save money on gas. My Mom is probably the MOST successful woman in the entire Martin County area starting up and running the Recycling Center for Martin County...and I don't recycle. *gasp* The NERVE!
My deodorant AND toothpaste AND makeup AND shampoo AND Dr. Pepper all have ingredients in it that I can't pronounce and that are probably some chemical equivalent to cyanide. And I'm pretty sure the "chicken" bites in my KFC Bowl were made from some ground up left over animal parts that I don't want to thing about at this moment.
I work in a hospital system that ACTUALLY believes they are making their visitors make better health choices because they only sell DIET drinks. What kind of utterly ridiculous nonsense is that? Trying to pass off Diet Pepsi as a HEALTHY choice. Really? Really?



REALLY?

Shock and Awe ladies and gentlemen. Shock and Awe. We all understand that I'm not the world's best organic eating, carbon footprint deleting human being, and even I know that Diet Soda is poison.
So what is one person to do?

I don't know either. But I'm thinking about it.
I started the 21 Day meditation challenge, and it's not solving any of the before mentioned issues..but what it is creating is incredibly tense muscles in my back. You try sitting there Indian style (wait..did they change that to some politically correct thing that I don't know about?)..oh yeah..crossed legs.. with your back straight, doing all that deep breathing and relaxing and see how YOUR back feels. I never thought of myself as a sloucher or someone with bad posture, but apparently, I don't sit or stand straight, or even close, because if I did I wouldn't have been in excruciating, toe curling, teeth clenching pain during my massage today. Who ever came up with the idea of needling and poking some one's tight knots in hopes of "relaxing" them? Masochistic bastards. I've decided after today I only want soft, chunky massage therapists, you know, the type that makes you want to poke their bellies- skinny twiggy types are all bones and that my friends is the fourth level of hell. Add that to your list of criteria when looking for someone to do your massage. "Would you like a male or female?" I want someone chubby and that's all that matters..little sausage fingers surely can't hurt as bad as little Miss Elbows Magoo. But not so big that I can hear them breath. I don't want to get the feeling that pushing around my chubby chub chub is going to be counted as their work out for the day.

Dear Ganesha-
Thank you thank you thank you for helping me overcome my Diet Soda habit. The toxicity to my nervous system may never be fully corrected but I feel blessed to know that I've made big strides in eliminating sources of toxic waste and making better choices on what to put in and on my body.
Your faithful servant-
Brooke-I'll-end-up-having-a-teenage-mutant-turtle-for-a-child-Albertson

July 21, 2013 #1993

So there I was... remembering when with faces from Loogootee High School. A 20 year reunion. Ok..not MY class reunion, because I totally crashed my older sister's high school reunion (tacky? obnoxious? rude? maybe..but would you expect any less?). I find it funny that I was excited to see former team mates, friends and classmates but that there are a lot of folks that never go to theirs. Maybe it has something to do with me living away from the little town that we all took laps in. The back roads, now common daily driving, makes reunions feel unnecessary to those who's homes have remained in the same zip code as our Junior-Senior Proms and Graduations. There are handfuls of us who have left and returned, learning something out in the wild blue yonder--- home is where you make it yes, but making it near the memories of our youths is comforting, secure in ways that really don't make sense, and in the end, familiar territory when the rest of our lives start feeling foreign and unsatisfying.

Funny how memories are remembered differently by the people who experienced them. My sisters will often bring up a story from years gone by and I swear they must have been abducted by aliens or something because it doesn't even sound like something from my memory banks. Those stories are treasures because it's like seeing a snap shot of a forgotten past. My favorites will always be the great stories we all share and could never forget..smoking from the pack of cigarettes we stole from my parents (read=inhaling once and coughing up a lung for the next 30 minutes). Going "muddin" at Lyons farm on endless summer days. Laughing at how now I would have to go buy "cheap" shoes that I wouldn't mind getting ruined #tragedy. The pool parties. The bad hair. The bad clothing choices...I wasn't the only one with my name on the butt of my sweat pants, but I was the only one who walked around with "Broke" when my ass crack decided to munch on my shorts. Unfortunate as wedgies are...I wore those black sweat pants, turned cut off sweat shorts until the holes made them indecent in public. The same goes for my "Don't be a Dick" t-shirt. Wore that to basketball practice all the time hoping to send a subliminal message to Mr. Eyler so that maybe we wouldn't have to run lines at the end of practice.

People I hadn't seen in 20 years said I hadn't changed a bit. That's a compliment right? So many smiles in the crowd hadn't changed either. The tiny point guard and setter on our Volleyball team, Leslie, is exactly as I remember her. Always smiling and talking about The New Kids on the Block. Jami having the very same laugh that is contagious to everyone around. Brett, whose looks finally caught up with his height, was such a wonderful treat to walk down memory lane with. We're adults and it just seems so crazy to me sometimes. Shelley and Elise still crack me up with their senses of humor and I hope that their husbands and the boys they are raising realize just how awesome and laid back their wives/moms are. Wrinkles and gray hair be damned we are all the living testament of being raised in a small town. We might have just turned out ok :-) Some have lost parents already. But only two have been lost themselves. Those are the inevitable conversations that make reunions a bit hard to swallow. As years go by, those numbers will continue to climb and the never ending march of time will remind us to be thankful for the years behind us and hopeful for the years ahead.

Thank You, Class of 1993- for allowing me to share in your reunion. Everyone with the same beautiful face as the one in their senior picture. Beautiful to me, now more than ever, because it is in the undying spirit of our shared experience of high school that laid the foundation for everything that has since come from that far away time. No...I wouldn't go back. Not because any of you were awful, but because of the me that I was at that time has come so far. We all share the common bond of little Loogootee, Indiana. I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Memories are made of these-
Brooke-someone-should've-told-me-my-ass-was-Broke-Albertson

June 21, 2013

So apparently it's the first day of summer. Living somewhere that actually has seasons is refreshing, even if this particular season seems to make areas of my body sweat in volumes I would rather not talk about. I mean...one of the many questions I would ask the almighty creator would be "what in the hell is accomplished with sweat that can run down the crack of my back door business?" Let's talk necessity here. Have you ever thought to yourself, Self- 'Thank God I'm sweating like a whore in church, it is really cooling off my ass crack.'  Or have you needed to jump in the pool while laying out because doing so will cool off your poop shoot? NO. I'm thinking that there are places that sweat glands should and should not be. Can I get an Amen? I will not bring up my dismay of sweaty buddha belly rolls. Sometimes, it's better to just stay inside. (a pondering just crossed my brain- maybe the sweaty crack is why all the gangsta wanna be's walk around with their underwear showing- letting that crack breath a little! Like a fine red wine).

Other questions I might consider posing to the One who knows everything-
1. See above paragraph
2. Who died and made you boss?
3. How many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?
4. Where's the beef?
5. What came first, the chicken or the egg?
6. Does everyone think I'm hysterical or just the people that know me?
7. Why does my nose itch immediately after I put on sterile gloves?
8. If a tree falls in the woods and there is no one around to hear it, does it still make sound?
9. If a man talks in the woods and there is no one around to hear him, is he still wrong?
10. What is the purpose of the appendix (in our bodies, not the one in books, duh!)
11. Does that dress make my butt look fat?
12. Do all dogs go to Heaven?
13. Are we all really in the Matrix?
14. What is the purpose of life?
15. Could I dig my way to China?
16. Is there anybody OUT THERE?
17. Will you tell Beetle when she gets there that she really was THE BEST DOG EVER!

Dear One who knows everything-
I have enclosed these questions as a brief sampling of the many, many questions that plague us humans. We would like answers, either via email, text, or YouTube video.
Sincerely, Your faithful servant- Brooke-no-I-didn't-pee-my-pants-that's- just-my-ass-sweat-Albertson

June 17, 2013

So here I am- wondering what in the Sam Hill I've been doing that has kept me from blogging. I mean..let's be honest, I didn't expect my fast paced, glamorous lifestyle in Indianapolis to keep me so busy. What with all the traffic jams behind tractors and parades of Geese as well as standing in line at Walmart, I can't seem to find a free minute! Jealous aren't ya? Vegas has nothing on this place!
My ass size has resembled a slinky: wide then thin (-er). Not sure what that is all about. Oh..well there was the HCG diet that I did and lost 25 lbs. That was pretty cool, but even now while I'm staying at the same weight it seems to undulate for reasons I don't quite grasp. Is gravity different here in Indiana? Or is my buddha belly moving from front to back without my permission?
Another phenomena that I am none to pleased about is that A LOT of women in Indiana have cute short hair do's. I am no longer a hairstyle minority. It's like that craze for Jennifer Aniston's hairstyle back in the 90's. This must be a midwest thing. So of course I tried making my style somewhat more trendy, you know blow drying it more forward and such. Made me look like an elderly Justin Beiber. I thought about going all Miley Cyrus with the long mohawk thing, but realized, just in time, that she's been on the verge of going off the deep end and really I've done crazy and I'm all set with that. There was a brief thought on getting extensions and then I realized that I've got no funds for that unless I start manufacturing some sort of illegal substance with the ingredients of ephedrine, battery acid, and ground glass. We all know I can't cook and so I chalked up that potential money maker to lack of ability. So I guess I will grow out my fro which will put my hairstyle in the "MOM Zone" of hairstyles for the next gazillion years. UGH...no offense to any of you Moms. This isn't too bad if this is the worst tragedy I've had to endure so far.
My doctor actually asked me about my thoughts on having children. He gave me that "your clock is ticking and really if you're gonna do it you might want to think about cutting down on your shenanigans and look for a potential sperm donor/father/ child support provider" talk. I basically gave him my "if I wanted any oral diarrhea about my advanced maternal age, I would just ask my father for advice on this subject" look, but only replied with a very basic..yeah, I know.
Children. As in those beings that would inherit some of my genetics, and the genetics of someone who felt it was a good idea to procreate with me (God knows that automatically makes them not so bright). We're talking a child that could very well be snarky, smart, chubby, who excels at parallel parking. I think it's hard pressed to believe we need more of those types in the world. Although....passing on my charming sarcasm and unstoppable wit would be worth further consideration. To be honest, I would really only become impregnated if I accidentally fell on some sperm that just happened to be in my way and we all know I'm no Mary!

Dear Fertility Goddess-
Keep your crack whore ideas of me being a mother to yourself and stop trying to kick start my biological clock because it's really not a great idea. I mean really, my crowning achievement in the last 6 months is that I was able to mimic the hairstyle of a Teeny bopping man-child. So that's all I've got to say about that.
Your faithful servant- Brooke-cobwebs-in-my-uterus-Albertson

April 8, 2013

Online dating. I've been doing it for years...different sites, some free, some expensive. It's really just people wanting to connect on some level. In the end, does that level really matter? Do we just want the validation that a picture and some meaningless banter about ourselves on a profile make us worthy of the attention from the opposite sex? To have some sort of impact on someone else, hormone related or not, usually feels pretty damn good. Most people don't actually meet. There's a few conversations..usually getting to know each other questions, compliments being thrown around to show interest, but inevitably one or both people find someone more interesting to talk to. It ebbs and flows and people shut down the computer and walk back to their real lives. It's almost like it feeds some need..some intimate need for acceptance.
There are rare occasions when a spark actually lights a fire worth sitting around for awhile. At least you think so anyway. How do we really know anyone? There are so many people who don't know themselves. It's on a wing and a prayer that meeting a complete stranger turns out to be just who you imagined them to be by the implications they made in that profile, during those conversations. What comes first trust? or faith? Is there a difference? In the end, do we finally get it? We project onto relationships what we want from them. Usually some form of adoration and some feeling of security. It doesn't actually mean it exists..it just means we use our ego to put into place a silent sense of being that can neither be proven or denied---until it is.
Heartache comes from the expectation that someone values you as much as you value yourself, to believe they too have your best interest at heart. But be honest with yourself...who's interest is most important? Yours right? So why would you ever imagine that someone would chose you over themselves?
How do you prepare for eventual disappointment?
It's very simple. Never expect anything..good or bad...from anyone. Go out there and be your absolute self. No bells or whistles. The person that is you on good days and bad. Not the gift wrapped version. Be true to yourself. Do yourself a favor and be honest and true to the mind that you lay down with every night. Doing so means that you might realize who it is and what it is that really compliments that mind and the lifestyle it chooses to lead.

Brooke
`.

Donations for Leora Mason and Family

A classmate of mine from Loogootee High School graduating class of 1994 has been critically injured in an automobile accident. Leora Mason (Eccles) has been in the Intensive Care Unit in Indianapolis, Indiana since early March. She and her children walked away from the car accident that flipped the automobile, only for her to be at death's door in one week with an ischemic stomach and bowel. Multiple operations have rendered her without a stomach, a colon, and the majority of her small intestines. She has been living on life support with a Tracheostomy,ventilator and Intravenous nutrition. It is unsure at this time if she will survive. This is a catastrophic tragedy and her life and that of her family's lives will never be the same. Overwhelming medical bills and her husband unable to work will undoubtedly leave the Mason family in dire straights. The Loogootee High School class of 1994 would like to reach out to our friends and loved ones and ask for help in any monetary form to help us, help one of our own. We all suffer. We are all at some point in time dependent on the generosity and kindness of strangers. Please- share this on your Facebook page. Let us do what we can. Sincere Gratitude- Brooke Albertson- Loogootee High School Class of 1994.

Local woman faces serious health issues weeks after car accident

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Thursday, March 28, 2013
By Nick Schneider, Assistant Editor

Leora Mason

For the John "JD" Mason family, of Linton, the last few weeks have been a bit overwhelming, almost indescribable.
JD has spent hours and hours beside his wife's bedside at hospitals in Bloomington and Indianapolis hoping and praying that she will recover.
Today, JD's wife, Leora, is facing an uncertain future as she lays in the surgical intensive care unit at IU Health Hospital following what was a very unusual course of events after a traffic accident last month.
The wreck happened on the evening of Feb. 21, on an icy State Road 54. She was traveling west about 7:30 p.m. and lost control after she 'tapped' her brakes and ended up at the bottom of what is known as "Blue Barn Hill". Her 1997 Expedition hit a ditch on the northside of the road and landed upside down, according to her husband.
JD said his wife's seatbelt maybe have caused some of her current injuries.
"No one knows how long she was in the seatbelt before she was able to maneuver to release it," JD told the Greene County Daily World.
Leora was reported at the accident scene to be not hurt after being checked out by EMTs.
Her three children who were in the car ---- six-year-old Jayden Mason, five-year-old Madison Mason and 16-year-old Taylor Mason ---- were also not hurt.
"She thought she was okay," JD recalled on Thursday morning. "She went to Zumba the week following the wreck and was doing fine ... I guess she was hurt more than she thought she was."
Leora, who is the Human Resources Manager at Glenburn Home in Linton, reported to work the following day and she was admittedly sore, but didn't know something more serious may have been wrong.
Serious medical problems surfaced for the 37-year-old woman the evening of March 5.

The John "JD"and Leora Mason family.
(Submitted photos)

About 7:30 p.m., she called her husband, who is a truck driver for K&S Trucking Company of Bloomington, and said she was very nauseous.
The call was followed by a round of the 'dry heaves' that lasted for more than three hours.
About midnight, 911 was called and Leora was transported to Greene County General Hospital in Linton.
Two hours later she was transported to IU Health Bloomington Hospital and the family learned that Leora's stomach was essentially clinically dead after a CAT scan exam was completed.
Apparently, blood flow was cut off during the wreck, causing serious damage to the stomach and intestines, JD said.
Leona, who formerly attended school at Bloomfield and graduated in 1994 from Loogootee High School, was placed in a medically-induced coma.
She underwent a pair of surgeries that night and another one the following day.
The Linton woman was then transferred to IU Health Hospital where two more surgeries were done that day ---- March 6.
All of Leora's stomach and large intestine have now been removed. In addition, 85 percent of her small intestine has been taken out.
She remained in a medically-induced come until March 19.
The mother of five is still very ill, according to her husband.
"It's a day by day thing," JD said.
Currently, she's on a ventilator, has a tracheotomy tube to provide an airway and to remove secretions from the lungs, and is getting her nutrition from a feeding tube.
The realities of Leora's condition are very clear to her husband.
"She's never going to be able to eat regular food again," JD slowly said.
He says his family is worried and concerned about their mother's health and future.
The younger children don't really understand everything that's happening, he said, but his older daughter realizes that things have changed for the Mason family.
However, he's confident his wife of eight years can make a recovery.
"I feel 100 percent that she's going to make it. It's just going to be a long road to recovery," JD stated.
Finances are a concern for JD.
His health insurance is being strained and he says it will 'run out' on March 31.
He's applied for Medicaid, but hasn't been approved yet.
"We're fighting for Medicaid. I'm off work due to he being in the hospital and trying to take care of things," JD stated.
The children are being cared for by his mother, Jayne Gregory and step-father, Ken Gregory, of Linton.
"We're just trying to do everything we can to help with all of these bills," he noted.
The Linton man says there has been a big outpouring of help, encouragement and prayers from many friends ---- especially his buddies at the Plummer River Rally.
Lucas Gechtman has organized a benefit raffle of a special Stihl chainsaw that was autographed by members of the band, Jackyl, that performed at the 2011 Plummer River Rally.
Ticket are $5 each or 5 for $20.
The raffle will end sometime in May, JD said.
Other fundraisers are in the planning stages.
A car wash is also being planned for the second or third week of April at the Auto Zone parking lot in Linton.
The first weekend in May, a softball and corn hole tournament is being organized in Jasonville.
Also, a motorcycle benefit ride is also being planned.
The family has established a special fund at Crane Federal Credit Union to help with Leora's medical expenses. Anyone can donate to the account by specifying that the money should go to the Leora Mason Fund.
To send a greeting card to Leora a special post office box has been set up. Mail all correspondence to Leora Mason, P.O. Box 326, Linton, IN 47441.
"We're just trying to do everything we can to help with bills," JD stressed.
As for the future, it remains unclear, but JD and family remain strong in their belief that things will work out.
"I believe thoughts and prayers 100 percent will help her," he concluded.

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March 10, 2013

So there I was this morning-- Springing forward with the time change, all the while happy that I got out of working one hour! I'm finally on night shift and it feels uber fantastic to not have an enema of health care people while I do my job. It's amazing the resources this hospital system has and one can see why it's in the top 1% in the country. If someone would ask my opinion about how to cut health care cost (which of course, no one will) I would tell them flat out- cut the paychecks of the people passing legislation until they get a MANDATORY BSN and know what the hell they are talking about. Make them work in the county hospitals and nursing homes and see first hand the lives that are affected. 

Officially exiting right off of my soap box. 

I've been in Indiana for 5 months. 5 MONTHS...that's like half a year almost (duh...Walter says "dumb ass").  I can't quite believe how incredibly rocky this transition has been for me in some ways. Financially - a freakingdisasteronastick- but thankfully I had gold jewelry I could sell. Shut up - I'm not kidding. And I would like to thank my family for all of those beautiful pieces that I wore way back in the day when wearing the gold chain was cool and so was pegging my jeans. The other part is that it's kind of like an out of body experience. In a bad way- although I have no practical experience to distinguish between good or bad but let me just explain.

I tend to be a relatively friendly person. I talk to strangers, in bars mostly, but in all types of social settings when the mood strikes me. Now..I have more miles on me than Taylor Swift's vagina when being exposed to different cultures and races. I've dated White, Korean, Black, Hispanic Japanese-American, Irish, Hillbilly, Jehovah's Witness, Catholic, Atheist, and even the down right crazy types. What is happening here is that "friendly, chatty Brooke" is getting a lot of "what chu talkin bout Willis" looks from folks. As in..."Did that crazy white woman really just talk to me? what the hell she want?"

The majority of Hoosiers are white, black or Hispanic. And the Great Divide is on like Donkey Kong around here. I am really not surprised by this in some ways...I mean..history can be incredibly painful to overcome and folks just aren't in to stepping out of their comfort zone (padded walls are comfortable, yes?) It's just a shame that's all.

So...nasal douche...pros and cons- I prefer the terminology of nasal douching over "sinus rinse" as the use of the word douche is much more pleasing to my laugh factory. It's a great thing..being able to douche the general inside of my face...and it can be an effective form of suicide if someone were to inhale at the time of said douching. That is for real folks...a big sniff of salt water to the naso- pharynx and you'll be drowning in 2 teaspoons of fluid. Very very hilarious to watch. 

Dear Obi One Keno be-

I don't have the slightest clue how to spell your name (should've just picked Yoda) - I want to thank you for the awesome Jedi mind tricks that you never taught me. For instance, how to not drown in 2 teaspoons of fluid- a friend I know could've used  that information. But since I'm female and apparently there are only gross boy Jedi's (they may not be true- I don't know anything about Star Trek..or Wars? LOL WARS!!) Ok ...my lameness is a completely valid reason for not letting me in your club. 

Your unfaithful servant- Brooke -Icould'vebeenkilledbyanettipot-Albertson

February 19, 2012

So there I was...walking down the street in hurricane like winds and a wind chill that would make a polar bear's balls shrivel....when I realized that my eye balls were frozen. Ok..maybe not frozen- frozen,  but that semi frozen state that one might get if they take the ice cube trays out of the freezer before the ice is frozen all the way through. Yes..some of us still use ice cube trays. And yes we might be the same people that don't own a TV or a Microwave and instead of telling people the truth, that it's just not in the budget right now, someone might say it's because they are trying to eat healthier and don't believe in eating zapped food. That same person may also say that she doesn't own a TV because she doesn't watch TV, which would be true, but she would never admit that she wouldn't turn one down if someone wanted to give her one as a gift (42" LED Hi-def optional).
Anyway..walking down the street this afternoon in the eyeball freezing wind I realized something vital to my experience of being a returning Hoosier→I'm smart enough to know better than to walk down the street in eyeball freezing wind. HELLO! I keep hearing Jeff Dunham's puppet Walter saying "Dumbass". Rule #492 when there are other means of reaching a destination that don't involve freezing necessary anatomical parts, use it. Regardless of how painfully slow it is..People Mover my fat fanny- (I've seen marathons finish faster).

I shouldn't complain (read: I'm going to complain). I have a great job.. I think. I've spent the bulk of the last month in Central Nursing Orientation- the best thing I've learned so far, and the scariest, is that a liver can be 3/4 damaged before ever showing signs of liver disease. So I am even more pleased with myself for taking Milk Thistle when I drink. What is scary about all that liver talk is that all of a sudden we might end up looking like we got a bad bottle tan one day and the next thing ya know we're coo coo for cocoa puffs, being tied to a bed, and shitting ourselves to death. That seems like a bad end to a good time! Surely there's another way--- which got me to thinking about drinking and partying and the whole thing. What really is the purpose of drinking a few drinks.. to relax a little in an uncomfortable situation, unwind from a hectic day, to celebrate something, and all other kinds of things...but really think about that...do I really need a substance to help me feel comfortable talking to strangers or being in an awkward situation...um, NO-I'm sorry- have you met me: Queen of the inappropriate comment. To unwind from a hectic day, I have three words for you: crawl to bed; Celebrating something?? caffeinated cake would probably do the trick.As far as everything else goes...wait..am I actually trying to make some sort of argument about not drinking. Strike THAT from the record...not my intention. Was just wondering why I drink, because in reality liquor and beer don't taste great, aren't refreshing to me, and at the end of the day cost too much. Hmmm....I never considered not drinking.

Why start now, 3/4 of my liver could be shot to hell and I could very well be on my way to shitting myself to death and folks...THAT is a good reason to drink!

Cheers!
Brooke

February 8, 2013

Sometimes the heart breaks in order for it to get bigger.
To no longer be fixed in a place of comfort, but to grow in a space of challenge and acceptance of the task to conquer those challenges.
Love and happiness are not pulled from a shelf, dusted off, and then put back on display.
They are worn in our voices, our posture, our smiles; they exist in our actions. They may come from within, but often times we take our own thoughts as the last ones to believe in. I needed to be shown what real love and happiness is. Everyone defines it differently to them, and for me it required a lot of consistency- 9 months of pushing him away and him being able to love me through his own heart break. I begged him to let me go. His love was too painful for me. Until the day I woke up and realized I deserved it. But by then, it was too late, he had let me go.
I struggle between moving forward in the hope of one thing or moving forward in the moment of the day at hand. Hope is a prison and a paradise.
I will continue to hope.

Hi Love-
I miss your great smile. I hear it over the phone, but it's not the same. I miss the eyes that took one look and knew what I was thinking and feeling. The feeling of your arms around me and my head on your chest..healing and accepting. But I can't live in that space..I visit it temporarily..any longer and I would drown. I think of you laughing and being comfortable and happy in your life. Of being the guy who is just trying to do the best that he can. What's that Garth Brooks song..."The Dance"- I'm glad I didn't know the way it all would end, the way it all would go.... I could've missed the pain, but I'd had to miss the dance.
Always-
B.

Shoulds

There is no pillow so soft as a clear conscience. -French proverb

Often time’s people are so busy multi-tasking that each item on the to-do list gets only a few moments of attention. Running here and accommodating over there can frazzle even the most organized person. Parents spend weekends being coaches, chauffeurs, cheerleaders, cooks, and maids. Going from the moment their feet hit the ground and only stopping when exhaustion sets in long enough for them to fall asleep. Exhaustion waits for us to lie in bed and ruminate over the day’s activities as well as worry about the day to come. Mothers and fathers are endlessly worried that they aren’t doing enough. Somehow they believe that they weren’t good enough, patient enough, caring enough.

The truth is that they probably weren’t. Multi-tasking ensures that a group of things get done without any guarantee of them being done well. Life is so filled up with the next thing on the agenda that people often don’t even experience the last thing. The feeling it leaves behind is a vague restlessness of the mind. Leaving people worried that they lost their keys or their phone only to find them right where they left them. That restlessness is because of all the frayed loose ends that continue to hang in our subconscious. The boys’ basketball game that was missed because of the ballet lessons. The drive thru dinner that was bought because there wasn’t time to go to the store or the energy to make something at home that plays with our guilty conscious or the yelling match over laundry because of short tempers caused by a long day.

Our society is filled with people who “should” all over themselves. I should’ve done this. I should’ve done that. I should’ve should’ve should’ve….and the list continues on. “Should” makes for a terrible pillow. Who do those shoulds belong to anyway? How important are they? Do they really exist? Slowing down and doing less is a sure fire way to enjoy life so much more. Those to-do lists are tackled one item at a time when the time is right and each element will get the attention, the care and concern, it deserves. Living life at a slower place SHOULD definitely help you sleep better at night. 

Protect Your Heart

Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life. -Proverbs 4:23

To think of one’s heart, most folks don’t think about the cardiac muscle that sits in the middle of their chest giving us life. The “heart” of someone is more quickly equated with someone’s ability to be gracious and empathetic, to be loving and caring. The heart of someone is a symbol of that person’s sum total of life experiences and that person’s tendencies to respond and interact with another person. Most everyone knows someone who is negative and opinionated and that less than pleasant person to be around is given a blanket pass to act in a rude manner. “Don’t mind him, he’s always grumpy.”  Like the Grinch, the assumption is made that they have hearts made of stone.

Why is that? What benefit does the Grinch have of being grumpy? Certainly doesn’t tend to bring around friends and family. Very likely co-workers go out of their way to avoid dealing with him. These responses end up leaving the Grinch in a self fulfilling prophecy. Life around him becomes proof that he’s right to be negative, closed minded, opinionated and unhappy. One can almost see flowers wilting in his presence. How can things ever change for the Grinch? His skepticism leaves every positive encounter as merely a bid by someone to dupe him. He refuses to know otherwise.

The great thing about this analogy is that no one actually has a heart made of stone. The sum total of our experiences is constantly changing and growing with every tick of the clock. We are not our past. Our heart is not relegated to a life of unhappiness because of the unfairness of life, or being dealt a rotten hand. No, our heart is malleable, bendable. We must take care to stand up for our heart in times of unjustness. We must not let our heart be abused or bullied. We must remember that what comes from the spirit of our heart is the whole world at our feet and that no one and nothing is worth giving that up. 

Whose breath are you taking?

“Life isn’t made up of the breaths we take, but the moments that take our breath away.”

The world works in mysterious ways. Our population grows and our connectedness to each other diminishes. Technology advances, sheep get cloned, and far away galaxies are discovered, while our senses are overloaded by amazing visuals and sound right in our own homes. Movies transport us to those galaxies and we can experience things in IMAX. Our sense of awe has been so inundated and overexposed that one can easily miss the everyday wonders that fill the surroundings.

Children watch movies in the car, not the passing of the seasons. Dinner comes in paper bags handed out windows. The forgotten elderly sit in homes with others who have no family or no one to claim them. The destitute and deranged are left to their own devices.

When lives are remembered and loved ones pass on, what will be the measure of that man or woman? What imprint on history will we leave? Busy schedules and busy lives leave very little room for living. Living in the moment of a beautiful day, breathing in the tenderness of a good bye hug or fully enjoying the laughter shared with friends. Are we truly living lives capable of taking our breath away?

Our greatest triumph as the human race will not be the leaps and bounds we make in the great sciences or the ability to accumulate material wealth. Our triumph will be to fill a world with goodwill even if society may tell us there is nothing to be gained by it. Our triumph will be our treatment of those less fortunate than ourselves. Our imprint will be the degree of selflessness we teach our children and in turn the wonderful cataclysmic effect that humble attitude will have on generations to come.

If life is to be measured, let it not be by our own good fortune but by the simple acts of kindness we extend to all we meet. How many people have you made gasp in wonderful surprise from the simple kindness you offered?

January 21, 2013- Righting wrongs

I know a young man in California, we had a brief flirtation a few years back, and we have recently had the opportunity to catch up via text. He asked for advice on women. He said that he met plenty of women but that it never really panned out.  I offered him some tips on approaching women and little things to boost his confidence. A week or so went by and he told me that a girl he had been getting to know and really starting to like, pulled the rug out from under him because she met someone else. Now, I pegged it instantly that she was young (23 maybe he said) and knowing what I know of this guy I offered this advice:
                   "It's easy to get caught up in the compliments and the fantasy. We've all done it. But really it's good if you think about it, serves proof that you're willing, when the right person comes along, to invest in a relationship."
I then asked him a question that I am sure made him roll his eyes...I asked him if he loved himself. We all know how much men love these kinds of questions. When he finally answered he said he didn't think so.
Then I went on to say that most people have a lot of negative self talk (80% of all our thoughts are negative), the way we criticize ourselves is awful. We would never treat a friend that way (probably not even a stranger) but we continue to beat ourselves up everyday. We have expectations of ourselves that are so completely out of touch with reality that God himself couldn't live up to them. Really, I'm supposed to wake up energized and happy? (not on your life). Working mothers are supposed to be loving, supportive, caring, a perfect disciplinarian, a devoted and sex crazed wife, never losing their temper, never wanting to punch their husbands in the throat and for the love of God they should have a clean house all the while (sign me up for that job!).
I've had a huge problem with this all my life..and what ended up happening is that I could never believe or really accept love from another person, and could you imagine how terrifying marriage really is to me...my overblown expectations of being a single person are horrifying enough, imagine when I am in coupledom and take on the responsibility of someone elses TOTAL HAPPINESS! And kids? shit..how would my head not just shatter into a million bits? And don't get me started on guilt. At what point do we just stop it all?  Looking in the mirror and saying that there is no way I am loved for my looks, so there has to be an ulterior motive. Knowing in the core of my being that I was unlovable. (Isn't that crazy..I'm so awesome..I mean..what the hell was I thinking??)

If you're reading this right now and shaking your head in acknowledgment then I have this to say to you: You are a perfectionist. You want answers instantly and even though you can be arrogant about your intellectual abilities, you are ridiculing yourself constantly about every other detail in your life. You keep score. You don't intend to "give" in order to "get" but when all things boil down to the bare bones...you feel disappointed when someone doesn't reciprocate an action or a sentiment the way you hoped. "After all I've done? That's what I get?" Am I close? Are you going to let that abusive bastard talk to you that way?

Moving back to Indiana was cathartic for me. I feel at home in my own skin for the first time in a decade. That alone, allowed me to loosen the vice grip of negativity that kept playing in my mind. I got sleep and I slept well, allowing me to wake up and feel able to accomplish things. Before I would berate myself about not having the energy to get done everything that I thought SHOULD get done- I would lose before I even began. Now I imagine that the voice in my head is really talking to my dearest friend and guess what..I'm encouraging, forgiving, funny, relaxed and I don't give a damn if the litter box gets cleaned out today or not.
But the most amazing thing of all is that the people that I loved before...I love more than ever now. My heart has exponentially grown overnight because I finally feel their love. Wait, no....I finally have allowed myself to believe their love was real. Taking away that self loathing and replacing it with the gentle knowledge that we are all fallible, that we are not defined by what we don't, but by what we do, and that it's ok to like the person we've become, maybe even love them.

There is someone in my life that I need to apologize to- for not trusting the love, the care and the happiness that they were trying to give...
Dear Self- I am so very sorry for abusing you mentally and emotionally all these years. For undermining your good moods, for picking apart everything you have ever done, and for planting seeds of doubt and negativity in every relationship you have ever had- for all these things I am so very sorry. And self- if you have in fact lost the love of your life forever, then please know, that I will sit with you through your pain and loss for as long as you need, I will wipe your tears and hold your soul until you are ready to stop grieving and able to move on. I will be there to remind you that to be human is to be capable of making mistakes and that no one will die because of it. I will spend the rest of my life righting the wrongs I've done to you.
Your Soul Mate-
Me

My Letter for Susana and Jose July 2012

                                                                                                                                                                                July 29, 2012

To whom it may concern,

                I am so privileged to be able to speak to the character of Susana and Jose.  My first recollection of them as a couple was in late December of 2007. Their son, Joseph, had been born with multiple complex heart defects and hours after his birth he underwent massive reconstructive surgery.  I heard about Jose and Susana before I actually met them. There was a rumor going around our hospital unit that Jose had parked their car on the top floor of the parking garage across from Susana’s hospital room and wrote a big message on the window “You’re the best Mom in the world. I love you Susana”.  So you can imagine hearing a story like that you want to see for yourself who these people were. They didn’t disappoint.  I saw them bring Joseph into his room after surgery and knew he was very sick. When they brought Jose and Susana to see Joseph for the first time you can imagine just how devastating it was for them to see their first born son full of tubes, connected to every monitor imaginable.  The love and grace from them and between them was just as touching on that day as every day that followed.  Joseph was looked after by the nursing staff and the physicians, but we could never give him what his family did.  There was always someone in the room with him, practically a 24 hour vigil. This went on until early April when they lost their beautiful baby boy. 

                You can judge the character of someone in all manner of ways. I met Joseph’s big sister Joseline during this time and I have never met such a beautiful, mature, polite, and well behaved little girl. When they redecorated her bedroom in pink princess colors, there was never a little girl who deserved it more. She was raised by parents that spoiled her with love and affection but instilled in her the very same grace and respect that they valued.  I will be a better parent having known them.

                The heartbreaking loss of Joseph on April 4^th was a pain I could never endure again. He was not my child. They were not my family. I wanted more than anything to do something to make it somehow have meaning. I stopped doing pediatric nursing.  We have stayed in touch and on December 27^th every year I say a prayer for them and think Joseph would have been 2, 3, 4, and this year he would have been 5.   People who are careless with their lives, with their values, and with their morals do not stay in your soul. Susana, Jose, Joseline, Joseph, and their newest addition Jose will always be in my heart.  They are truly wonderful people.

Warm Regards,

Brooke Albertson, RN

January 4, 2013

So there I was ...dressy jeans and a black turtle neck sweater at a bar, by myself (no one else to go with me). Wearing pearl earrings for reasons I can't quite remember at this juncture. I'm a sucker for live music. Smoky rooms. Men with wedding rings. Ok...that last one only applies to tonight...he was adorable. and British. Anyway....a short lived flirtation is always a good thing.
I sat there while an over weight, although very talented, woman sang  "Party Rock" by LMFAO. I was instantly taken to the club at the Cosmopolitan in Las Vegas called Marquee. A place that had an incredible Monday night and that I went to probably a handful of times by myself (no one else around to go with me). On one particular night I was only slightly confused by the neon confetti, the ridiculous spandex, and some freaky skinny guy with a Fro that came out on stage...I had no idea who LMFAO was...but you can bet I did after that night.. What a great time..that place was an undulating wave of ecstasy. Not the drug. Just a vibe of brilliantly bright happiness. To sit in Indianapolis listening to a band cover something that I found so incredible at the time was....needless to say, bittersweet. I've been so fortunate to have such amazing memories. To have lived such wonderful places in this country and taken advantage of the best there was to offer.  It's addictive really. Going out. Not knowing where I might end up. Not knowing what I might find at the other side of my imagination. It's never really risky, although there are those who would be terrified to walk in the shoes I find so comfortable. It's not uncomfortable to me to be alone in public. I ate sushi alone tonight. I went to a bar alone to watch a band. I, by my own very strict criteria, am a very good date. What is the use of being single and amazing if it's not to go and do exactly what I want to do?

At 36 years old I am comfortable with a lot of things about myself. It's taken 36 years to get here, and I'm sure many more to get the rest of the way, but I'm happy with who I am, what I know, and my tendencies in life. I only hope that half the people I know are as comfortable in their own lives as I am in mine.

I've recently acquired some information. I'm not someone that goes around spouting religious ideologies. When I find something of value, I like to pass it along. Something like "Paying it Forward"...
I've always felt, and I guess believed, that life itself is just the tip of the iceberg. There is something so softly nagging and ever so insistent that has continually pulled on my conscious. Church Bound God has never made an impression. Preaching completely opposing views and never really saying anything of substance made me believe that Church was the last place I would find answers. I've been fortunate to be at the death beds of many, many people. To watch as they go. More often than not, it isn't with the last physical breath. Our loved ones most often leave us sooner than their earthly bodies do. We grieve at the side of soul less human forms. A most perfect example of the efficiency of such a complex creation. We can do our biding for days, sometimes weeks, until the body finally surrenders. Those who look, who feel, who listen with not just their eyes and ears, but with the core of their being, know when a loved one is out of earthly reach. The conundrum comes when the decision needs to be made about the next step...letting nature take it's course..and not the medical institution as we know it. For all those who have had a near death experience, I wonder how close they were to the death of the body? Were family members discussing over dark hospital hallways the idea of pulling the plug? Did they some how come back just in time? Is it all part of a bigger plan?
Consciousness. The minds ability to think, laugh, make jokes....to be human, are all about our consciousness.  Where does our consciousness come from? Where in the deep recesses of our mind does consciousness flow from?
Can I ask how to discern if my reality is the same as yours? If I ask you in my life- then it is only my reality that I am conscious of...I can not speak of anyone else's. There's a chance that this life is a "dream scape". A living, breathing motion picture of my own development, for my own betterment. It could, in fact be, the Matrix. LMFAO.
And around we go again.
What is, is what was, and what always will be.
In the end..we are all more than our physical selves.

Dear Om,
The people who have just read this blog post are probably scratching their heads and wondering what kind of sushi I ate. It's all good. But you know that already. Your faithful servant, Brooke laughing my fucking ass off Albertson.