So for those of you who don’t remember, I had a little contest of seeing who could tell me what type of coffee Stephanie Davies’ drank. Well, Luin from Faerytale Dreams was the only person with the correct answer… double mocha caramel cappuccino… so Luin and her website are being featured on the BE Banner Exchange on my latest banner for 5,000 impressions. The link itself goes to a post on her blog that talks about my blog.
I am very partial to banner advertising. I suppose it is a hold over from the old LE system for my previous websites. This was my first attempt at an animating banner since, oh, maybe 1998? I don’t think it came out too bad…
I am very partial to banner advertising. I suppose it is a hold over from the old LE system for my previous websites. This was my first attempt at an animating banner since, oh, maybe 1998? I don’t think it came out too bad…
I’m still in recovery phase from the last two days… hence why as I now look at the clock it is so late but this post hasn’t made it up yet. So before you read the rest… this week’s renter, Stephanie Davies’ Mystickal Incense and More Blog is in the last few hours of renting. During this time they have been a great renter, even giving us exclusivity to see the blog change designs. So… please give her a farewell click… and if you really like me, click on her link above in this post and tell her why I deserve to be the winner of her new blog redesign contest. You’ll need to leave the reason in the comments section of the post the above link goes to. So thanks for staying and playing here @ A Pile of Dog Bones Stephanie… and keep on bloggin’.
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Here’s a big bone for all of you… my date last night with Izzy. Yes… that’s right… it is official… I went out on a date with the latest online chatty. We went to a local Queens restaurant called Donovan’s in Woodside. It’s a nice Irish place with a lot of charm. I had been in and out of their previously with one of my old partner’s for their Shepard’s Pie… which is exactly what I went for last night. However, allow me to start at the beginning.
So I did leave work later than I expected. She apparently was already prepared for that, and when I called her wasn’t even dressed yet. So I bounced home for a quick change and a spray of Axe before heading over. To be honest… I made really good time there and ended up outside in the cold for 25 minutes before we were supposed to meet. Then, she was another 10 minutes late… which to be honest is good timing considering she walked.
So we go inside and get shoved into a little corner alcolve surrounded by lead lined stained glass and white stucco. The fireplace is blazing, and so we start talking. About what? Well… anything that came to mind. Internet sites we like, common work issues, what we watch on TV (she’s a TiVo girl… my favorite kind), and all sorts of other stuff.
She did get to see first hand how my drama affects me. My phone rang, and I thought it was The Nick (who, by the way is not speaking to me because I left work early and did not tell her where I was going) and the first thing I thought was something had gone horribly wrong at work… so I answered. It turns out it was Mel, who called to tell me she was upset over something and she wanted to quit. Once I discerned this fact, I told her very simply, “Mel, remember I love you, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow.” Essentially I shut her down. This is important to remember for later.
So we ate dinner by candlelight, I had the aforementioned Shepard’s Pie and she had the baked clams. I drank a black and tan, she drank amaretto and coke. We were a match made in heaven… and although the waitress was grumpy… dinner went off without a hitch. Our after dinner discussion continued to revolve around items out of random… all the while she played with a straw wrapper giggling, and I continued looking around nervously with weak knees. So… finally a cook came out and basically chased us out.
So we got outside, and I said I could drive her home. “No. You can walk me home,” was her reply with a smile. Now, remember, she walked there and had dressed in layers. I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a short sleeve button down shirt, and a vintage 1993 VYZ black flight jacket (it’s vintage because that was the jacket I wore when I saw Pearl Jam back in 1993). Yet, walked her home I did. During the walk I got a little tour of the neighborhood… and I got to hear about friends and how they were considered traitors for living on the wrong block, bars that had been open but now were gone, and the walk from a closing bar past White Castles on the way to the after hours place.
Finally, with the wind whipping around us in a frenzy, we reach her block. So we stand outside of her house. There we talk more… about her family, and what they’re like, and her Christmas lights that stay up all year round (which oddly looked really familiar… kind of like my own Christmas lights at my house in Pennsylvannia… hmmm…). It was cold, and we looked at each other, and there… under the light of the street lamp… Godzilla and Mothra started duking it out in my stomach. I was doing everything not to choke on the moment… and at the same time not to upchuck from my case of Nerves Gone Wild… but in the end, I chose the safe path… and I kissed her hand.
Yes… that’s right… after an hour in the cold… I only kissed her hand. Who’s the fool? Well… obviously I am. After she went upstairs I walked back to my truck… and she called my phone to make sure I got there alive. Once in the truck with the heat pumping, she came out and asked me how long it had been since I dated. A real date… mmmm… like a real one on one date… double mmmm… 1999??? Right… and that’s when she told me… when a girl stands in the cold for an hour… she WANTS to be kissed… on the lips!!! Duh! Thank you Godzilla. Thank you Mothra. The travesty.
We continued to talk until about 2:00am this morning… and have a tentative date for Monday at the movies. I’m going to put Godzilla and Mothra on a time out for that occasion, get ahold of plenty of chapstick, some of that mouth spray, and do puckering exercises over the weekend to strengthen myself for the experience that I know will be knee wobbling and butterfly shattering.
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On a final note… while I normally leave this space for the trivial, minute, and entertaining, I can’t ignore this. Here is a picture I found on Yahoo! From a press conference today. The paramedic on the right is Marv
in Bethea, also known as “Marvelous Marvin the Bee”. Marvin has been a paramedic since before I was even an EMT, working the old 44 William with Eddie McCormack. On September 11, 2001 Marvin was working 46 William with The Viking when he was sent to the WTC Site. He did a number of overtime tours on the site during the cleanup and a number of volunteer tours on the pile as well. His health has been in deterioration ever since, including suffering a stroke while working in November of 2001.
The fact remains that the City of New York continues NOT to recognize the disasterous effects on emergency responders who responded that day. While it is too late to help guys like Timmy Keller, it isn’t too late to help the rest of them. I say them… but hell… I was there for 48 straight too. Them is really us. This is a wrong that must be righted… because if it’s not… well New York… who’s coming to rescue you next time?
Here’s a big bone for all of you… my date last night with Izzy. Yes… that’s right… it is official… I went out on a date with the latest online chatty. We went to a local Queens restaurant called Donovan’s in Woodside. It’s a nice Irish place with a lot of charm. I had been in and out of their previously with one of my old partner’s for their Shepard’s Pie… which is exactly what I went for last night. However, allow me to start at the beginning.
So I did leave work later than I expected. She apparently was already prepared for that, and when I called her wasn’t even dressed yet. So I bounced home for a quick change and a spray of Axe before heading over. To be honest… I made really good time there and ended up outside in the cold for 25 minutes before we were supposed to meet. Then, she was another 10 minutes late… which to be honest is good timing considering she walked.
So we go inside and get shoved into a little corner alcolve surrounded by lead lined stained glass and white stucco. The fireplace is blazing, and so we start talking. About what? Well… anything that came to mind. Internet sites we like, common work issues, what we watch on TV (she’s a TiVo girl… my favorite kind), and all sorts of other stuff.
She did get to see first hand how my drama affects me. My phone rang, and I thought it was The Nick (who, by the way is not speaking to me because I left work early and did not tell her where I was going) and the first thing I thought was something had gone horribly wrong at work… so I answered. It turns out it was Mel, who called to tell me she was upset over something and she wanted to quit. Once I discerned this fact, I told her very simply, “Mel, remember I love you, and we’ll talk about this tomorrow.” Essentially I shut her down. This is important to remember for later.
So we ate dinner by candlelight, I had the aforementioned Shepard’s Pie and she had the baked clams. I drank a black and tan, she drank amaretto and coke. We were a match made in heaven… and although the waitress was grumpy… dinner went off without a hitch. Our after dinner discussion continued to revolve around items out of random… all the while she played with a straw wrapper giggling, and I continued looking around nervously with weak knees. So… finally a cook came out and basically chased us out.
So we got outside, and I said I could drive her home. “No. You can walk me home,” was her reply with a smile. Now, remember, she walked there and had dressed in layers. I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a short sleeve button down shirt, and a vintage 1993 VYZ black flight jacket (it’s vintage because that was the jacket I wore when I saw Pearl Jam back in 1993). Yet, walked her home I did. During the walk I got a little tour of the neighborhood… and I got to hear about friends and how they were considered traitors for living on the wrong block, bars that had been open but now were gone, and the walk from a closing bar past White Castles on the way to the after hours place.
Finally, with the wind whipping around us in a frenzy, we reach her block. So we stand outside of her house. There we talk more… about her family, and what they’re like, and her Christmas lights that stay up all year round (which oddly looked really familiar… kind of like my own Christmas lights at my house in Pennsylvannia… hmmm…). It was cold, and we looked at each other, and there… under the light of the street lamp… Godzilla and Mothra started duking it out in my stomach. I was doing everything not to choke on the moment… and at the same time not to upchuck from my case of Nerves Gone Wild… but in the end, I chose the safe path… and I kissed her hand.
Yes… that’s right… after an hour in the cold… I only kissed her hand. Who’s the fool? Well… obviously I am. After she went upstairs I walked back to my truck… and she called my phone to make sure I got there alive. Once in the truck with the heat pumping, she came out and asked me how long it had been since I dated. A real date… mmmm… like a real one on one date… double mmmm… 1999??? Right… and that’s when she told me… when a girl stands in the cold for an hour… she WANTS to be kissed… on the lips!!! Duh! Thank you Godzilla. Thank you Mothra. The travesty.
We continued to talk until about 2:00am this morning… and have a tentative date for Monday at the movies. I’m going to put Godzilla and Mothra on a time out for that occasion, get ahold of plenty of chapstick, some of that mouth spray, and do puckering exercises over the weekend to strengthen myself for the experience that I know will be knee wobbling and butterfly shattering.
On a final note… while I normally leave this space for the trivial, minute, and entertaining, I can’t ignore this. Here is a picture I found on Yahoo! From a press conference today. The paramedic on the right is Marv
in Bethea, also known as “Marvelous Marvin the Bee”. Marvin has been a paramedic since before I was even an EMT, working the old 44 William with Eddie McCormack. On September 11, 2001 Marvin was working 46 William with The Viking when he was sent to the WTC Site. He did a number of overtime tours on the site during the cleanup and a number of volunteer tours on the pile as well. His health has been in deterioration ever since, including suffering a stroke while working in November of 2001.The fact remains that the City of New York continues NOT to recognize the disasterous effects on emergency responders who responded that day. While it is too late to help guys like Timmy Keller, it isn’t too late to help the rest of them. I say them… but hell… I was there for 48 straight too. Them is really us. This is a wrong that must be righted… because if it’s not… well New York… who’s coming to rescue you next time?
Yeah I know… we are… that’s why EMS is known as “New York’s Dumbest”. So be it… and all that cal my little droogie… all that cal.
Ok… so this morning I will admit I am REALLY SLOW… partially because, well, I’m at work… and mostly because I was out until 3:00am last night with one of my work crews getting hammered.
Therefore… if I do anything at all… I must tell you to visit my renter, Mystickal Incense Blog who just did a total facelift.
Now… previously it was a very warm maroonish… now… well… just go check it out. Do the right thing… click on the icon on the right… and DO NOT PASS GO OR COLLECT $200.00 UNTIL YOU DO.
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On one other note… I finally discovered the source of random pop-ups when I blew through on my brother’s computer. These free chatterboxes have hidden scripts… needless to say the chatterbox is gone and I have replaced it with a more formal blogroll. Sorry to anyone who got popped while seeing my site… and if it happens again please let me know. I hate pop-ups… I hate them more than spinach.
Ouch… my head hurts…
Therefore… if I do anything at all… I must tell you to visit my renter, Mystickal Incense Blog who just did a total facelift.
Now… previously it was a very warm maroonish… now… well… just go check it out. Do the right thing… click on the icon on the right… and DO NOT PASS GO OR COLLECT $200.00 UNTIL YOU DO.
On one other note… I finally discovered the source of random pop-ups when I blew through on my brother’s computer. These free chatterboxes have hidden scripts… needless to say the chatterbox is gone and I have replaced it with a more formal blogroll. Sorry to anyone who got popped while seeing my site… and if it happens again please let me know. I hate pop-ups… I hate them more than spinach.
Ouch… my head hurts…
Work has been a killer. It seems everyone over the last two days in New York City has decided they need an ambulance… and they need it now! Of course, to understand the conundrum I speak of, you need to understand a bit about New York City geographically.
See, the city itself is divided into 5 county like land masses known as boroughs. Most people identify New York City with the borough of Manhattan. It is after all the home of the Empire State Building, Wall Street, the Chrysler Building, and Madison Square Garden. The other boroughs are the homes of other such landmarks, such as Yankee Stadium in the Bronx, Shea Stadium in Queens, Coney Island in Brooklyn, and… well… Staten Island has the ferry.
As for healthcare in New York, every borough has designated trauma centers and specialty sites as well as a wealth of clinics and doctors. Jacobi Hospital in the Bronx is one of the premiere hospitals… although one would never guess it. It is a level 1 trauma center, has a barriatric unit, but it also houses the only city snake bite antidote unit… seeing as how it is only a mile away from the Bronx Zoo makes it more understandable. What most people don’t realize, is everyone in the outer boroughs ends up going to see the “specialist” in Manhattan… and everyone in Manhattan usually goes to the “premier” doctors in the outer boroughs. In other words… we are constantly doing the inter-borough shuffle.
So amidst all this, here I sit, trying to get a simple blog entry in. It really almost didn’t happen again, mainly because I got sidetracked with an article about another blogger I already mentioned… but no one should think because the boroughs burn with calls that the drama comes to a halt!
So, yesterday Izzy called me cute. This was over an IM in the afternoon… and I was elated. Of course, she basically deflated me by saying how she felt I was funny, amusing, and a clown to her kind of cute. Right. So after feeling like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for about ten minutes, I then wanted to tell her to get her shine box.
Last night I was supposed to call her from AC Moore where she wanted yarn and I had some frames to pick-up for some holiday photos. Of course, as I was about to leave work, a crisis occurred. After three hours in dealing with it, I finally made it to where I could head home. So I called… and it rang 10 times. So I raced… ate probably around 5 lights on Pennsylvania Avenue, and got home in time to catch her online.
She was doing something… probably talking to another cyber buddy… and said she’d call me in fifteen minutes. I of course said no problem. After logging off I grabbed some spaghetti and sat down to watch some wrestling. A minute later… Breaking the Habit is coming from my phone. Steff.
She had just gotten home from work and had some questions about a protocol that had come up. Of course, she called me, because whether people realized it or not, my partner Freakzilla and I have been responsible for causing a number of protocol changes over the years due to our “extraordinary interpretation and resourcefulness” while working in the field. That line actually appears seven times in our Department of Health files. Yes… the NYSDOH keeps a file on me. Nice to know I’m loved by bureaucrats the world over. So I explain to her why the protocol says what it says, and the ways to document around it… since it is one I have not yet had the opportunity to alter… and we talk briefly about life.
She hasn’t called Crumb… and inside I am grateful as all hell… but she’s really still stuck on him and the New Guy just ain’t cutting it. She asks me what’s wrong… and I’m watching the clock… denying anything is wrong and basically trying to yawn signaling I need to be asleep. She relents and we say goodnight. I put the phone down. A minute later… Rescue Me is coming from the phone. Barista.
After the usual “Hello my munchkin” banter, we get to the heart of the matter. She wants me to work on her resume AND get her a job at a hospital where I’m friends with one of the bosses. How does she devise all this? Well… because it’s where The Steff now works… and her new boss being my friend. In 12 years in this business I have made 3 personal recommendations in my entire career. Why? Because I do have somewhat of a reputation to maintain regardless of what people may think. So if you’re not X, Freakzilla, or The Steff… get it on your own.
After telling her this nicely… she continues to yap about how horrible her life is and so on. I listen to her complaining about the boyfriend who is moving out, and her whining about work, and her bitching about Jen the Red and if it was her asking I would give it to her (which… as much as I love Jen the Red… nope, sorry, nada, nunca, nyet). Finally… she gives up after 17 minutes… and moves on to harass whoever is left on her list.
Then, I put the phone down, and just as I’m about to start eating… here comes 1,2 Step from the phone. Finally. Izzy. So last night’s phone call was 141 minutes and 49 seconds according to my cell phone timer. Not too shabby for a guy who traditionally doesn’t talk if I do say so myself. Our range of topics ran the gamet from who’s playing in the Superbowl to why I’ve been more emotional over the last few days than normal. So, finally, at 1:30 this morning… we said goodnight.
So today, I come back to my desk to see an IM from her… and she’s flipping. Losing her mind over something that happened. Now, I admit, I was pretty damn needy yesterday… and had been looking forward to another day of neediness… but I figured I better turn around and be the man for a change. So… I think I was. I told her my opinion… and more importantly listened to what she had to say. After some serious thinking… I gave her how I felt about it in a way I think she understood.
In the end… guess what? Well… she had needed a drink tonight… but I’m on my way to a CPR Refresher (which is SO stupid… but I need to do it for my other state certs)… so instead… it’s going to be dinner tomorrow night. Imagine? I actually have a date… well… I think it’s a date… I mean… I never really asked if it was a “date” date… did I have to? Isn’t it? Oh boy… now I’m starting to hyperventilate… well… anyway… there it is… I have a date for dinner tomorrow night with a girl who giggles.
And that just makes my freaking knees weak.
See, the city itself is divided into 5 county like land masses known as boroughs. Most people identify New York City with the borough of Manhattan. It is after all the home of the Empire State Building, Wall Street, the Chrysler Building, and Madison Square Garden. The other boroughs are the homes of other such landmarks, such as Yankee Stadium in the Bronx, Shea Stadium in Queens, Coney Island in Brooklyn, and… well… Staten Island has the ferry.
As for healthcare in New York, every borough has designated trauma centers and specialty sites as well as a wealth of clinics and doctors. Jacobi Hospital in the Bronx is one of the premiere hospitals… although one would never guess it. It is a level 1 trauma center, has a barriatric unit, but it also houses the only city snake bite antidote unit… seeing as how it is only a mile away from the Bronx Zoo makes it more understandable. What most people don’t realize, is everyone in the outer boroughs ends up going to see the “specialist” in Manhattan… and everyone in Manhattan usually goes to the “premier” doctors in the outer boroughs. In other words… we are constantly doing the inter-borough shuffle.
So amidst all this, here I sit, trying to get a simple blog entry in. It really almost didn’t happen again, mainly because I got sidetracked with an article about another blogger I already mentioned… but no one should think because the boroughs burn with calls that the drama comes to a halt!
So, yesterday Izzy called me cute. This was over an IM in the afternoon… and I was elated. Of course, she basically deflated me by saying how she felt I was funny, amusing, and a clown to her kind of cute. Right. So after feeling like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer for about ten minutes, I then wanted to tell her to get her shine box.
Last night I was supposed to call her from AC Moore where she wanted yarn and I had some frames to pick-up for some holiday photos. Of course, as I was about to leave work, a crisis occurred. After three hours in dealing with it, I finally made it to where I could head home. So I called… and it rang 10 times. So I raced… ate probably around 5 lights on Pennsylvania Avenue, and got home in time to catch her online.
She was doing something… probably talking to another cyber buddy… and said she’d call me in fifteen minutes. I of course said no problem. After logging off I grabbed some spaghetti and sat down to watch some wrestling. A minute later… Breaking the Habit is coming from my phone. Steff.
She had just gotten home from work and had some questions about a protocol that had come up. Of course, she called me, because whether people realized it or not, my partner Freakzilla and I have been responsible for causing a number of protocol changes over the years due to our “extraordinary interpretation and resourcefulness” while working in the field. That line actually appears seven times in our Department of Health files. Yes… the NYSDOH keeps a file on me. Nice to know I’m loved by bureaucrats the world over. So I explain to her why the protocol says what it says, and the ways to document around it… since it is one I have not yet had the opportunity to alter… and we talk briefly about life.
She hasn’t called Crumb… and inside I am grateful as all hell… but she’s really still stuck on him and the New Guy just ain’t cutting it. She asks me what’s wrong… and I’m watching the clock… denying anything is wrong and basically trying to yawn signaling I need to be asleep. She relents and we say goodnight. I put the phone down. A minute later… Rescue Me is coming from the phone. Barista.
After the usual “Hello my munchkin” banter, we get to the heart of the matter. She wants me to work on her resume AND get her a job at a hospital where I’m friends with one of the bosses. How does she devise all this? Well… because it’s where The Steff now works… and her new boss being my friend. In 12 years in this business I have made 3 personal recommendations in my entire career. Why? Because I do have somewhat of a reputation to maintain regardless of what people may think. So if you’re not X, Freakzilla, or The Steff… get it on your own.
After telling her this nicely… she continues to yap about how horrible her life is and so on. I listen to her complaining about the boyfriend who is moving out, and her whining about work, and her bitching about Jen the Red and if it was her asking I would give it to her (which… as much as I love Jen the Red… nope, sorry, nada, nunca, nyet). Finally… she gives up after 17 minutes… and moves on to harass whoever is left on her list.
Then, I put the phone down, and just as I’m about to start eating… here comes 1,2 Step from the phone. Finally. Izzy. So last night’s phone call was 141 minutes and 49 seconds according to my cell phone timer. Not too shabby for a guy who traditionally doesn’t talk if I do say so myself. Our range of topics ran the gamet from who’s playing in the Superbowl to why I’ve been more emotional over the last few days than normal. So, finally, at 1:30 this morning… we said goodnight.
So today, I come back to my desk to see an IM from her… and she’s flipping. Losing her mind over something that happened. Now, I admit, I was pretty damn needy yesterday… and had been looking forward to another day of neediness… but I figured I better turn around and be the man for a change. So… I think I was. I told her my opinion… and more importantly listened to what she had to say. After some serious thinking… I gave her how I felt about it in a way I think she understood.
In the end… guess what? Well… she had needed a drink tonight… but I’m on my way to a CPR Refresher (which is SO stupid… but I need to do it for my other state certs)… so instead… it’s going to be dinner tomorrow night. Imagine? I actually have a date… well… I think it’s a date… I mean… I never really asked if it was a “date” date… did I have to? Isn’t it? Oh boy… now I’m starting to hyperventilate… well… anyway… there it is… I have a date for dinner tomorrow night with a girl who giggles.
And that just makes my freaking knees weak.
I’m not quite sure how I feel about this story about a blogger named ivwoman. It seems she was a Paramedic in Plymouth, and had a blog that contained some pictures and some off color remarks. I suppose the whole reason why is because of the lot of questions surrounding patient privacy as it is.
The examples they gave really don’t tell me anything about how a patient’s privacy was invaded. I would think the clearest one would be the picture of the bed because it is inside the residence. Is this a violation of patient privacy? Not really… but it is a violation of Privacy Laws in general.
I suppose the reason why I even question this whole thing is because I too have freelanced as a photographer at fire scenes and on most notable car wrecks besides the pictures I took in a few relatively notorious disaster zones. In fact, I had a few pictures with my new camera I was thinking about posting here just as some examples of what we get to see everyday that to most people is surreal.
Well… this gives me reason enough to pause before doing so… because even though the pictures I take are taken usually when I’m either off or volunteering… the fact they terminated her employment when they are not even sure the pictures were real makes me wonder if my employer would do the same even if they were taken while not in their employ.
The examples they gave really don’t tell me anything about how a patient’s privacy was invaded. I would think the clearest one would be the picture of the bed because it is inside the residence. Is this a violation of patient privacy? Not really… but it is a violation of Privacy Laws in general.
The First Amendment has never been construed to accord newsmen immunity from torts or crimes committed during the course of newsgathering. The First Amendment is not a license to trespass, to steal, or to intrude by electronic means into the precincts of another’s home or office.
Dietemann v. Time, Inc., 449 F.2d 245, 249 (9th Cir. 1971).
I suppose the reason why I even question this whole thing is because I too have freelanced as a photographer at fire scenes and on most notable car wrecks besides the pictures I took in a few relatively notorious disaster zones. In fact, I had a few pictures with my new camera I was thinking about posting here just as some examples of what we get to see everyday that to most people is surreal.
Well… this gives me reason enough to pause before doing so… because even though the pictures I take are taken usually when I’m either off or volunteering… the fact they terminated her employment when they are not even sure the pictures were real makes me wonder if my employer would do the same even if they were taken while not in their employ.
