Tag Archives: shopping

Register…as what?


When Roger and I became engaged, we were very happy. I think we were happy for the same basic reasons: we had found the spouse of our dreams. We were going to start a life together. We were going to live together. Things like that. But I believe we also had some secondary reasons for bliss that were unique to each of us. I think Roger’s secondary reasons included visions of me in fishing waders reeling in a catch just like he taught me.

Glorious.

Or other similar camping scenarios. I’m cool with that. But the fourth or fifth thought that I had after engagement was, “We get to REGISTER.”

Now, I am not an extremely materialistic person and, believe it or not, I’m not a shopaholic either. I freeze up with too many choices (remember? Click here.) But for the past two years I have had a growing urge to set up house. I have set up a couple apartments but have always resisted making them TOO homey because I didn’t want to collect too much stuff. As it is, I have a storage unit half full of stuff that I found at garage sales and on the side of the road. Hey, they still work with a coat of paint. I used to tell my friends that I was going to register for grown-up household goods for my 30th birthday. I’m not sure if I was joking so I am SO glad I don’t have to follow through with that. Roger’s response to the whole registry business was classic.

“We have to register? As what?”

After explaining that we did not have to go on an American Master List of Engaged Couples, I asked if the registry was a thing in Australia. Apparently it is. And that is when I realized that there will be things that I assume “aren’t Australian traditions” when in actuality, it’s just not a Roger tradition. It will be fun through the years to see how this unfolds. This reminds me of the famous Entree Conversation.

Entree

Roger: Girl that I’ve only dated a week and want to impress, Brent wants to have us over to eat some fish he caught.
Erin: Okay, man that I am so nervous around that I can’t quite look in the face yet, is there enough fish for four?
Roger: Well, we can eat the fish as an entree and something else for the main dish.
Erin: Now I can look you in the face because you said something very silly. Entrees ARE main dishes.
Roger: No, girl that I am still trying to impress, you are being silly. “Entree” means “to enter”, it is the starter.
Erin: In my family, we settle this kind of thing with a dictionary.
Roger: Yikes.
Erin: “Entree: Definition #1 Main course to a meal.” Something smug.
Roger: Ok, is there a definition #2?
Erin: Oh. Yes. “In a fancy meal, entree is an appetizer or starter.”
Roger: (Smiles devastatingly handsome smirk)
Erin: But it was definition number TWO.
Roger: Yes, in the American Heritage Dictionary.
(Dispute settled.)

Now that we have been engaged for three weeks, we are older and wiser and don’t have knowy-pants disputes like that anymore. No, really.

So last night we walked the aisles of Target with a Powerful Ray Gun.¬† And Roger decided he does like registering. He only had a few brief Boy Moments in which he used outer-space voices and aimed the gun at several unpurchasable humans but I chalked that up to male nerves and reassured myself with the fact that at least he wasn’t running in circles bonking his head and yelling like younger versions of his gender do when confronted with something completely new and slightly overwhelming. Like linens. Plus, he’s fun and I started the Ray Gun game anyway.

We are having a small wedding in Waimea. The registry is not the most important thing. The important thing is that I am marrying the best human I have ever met and if he knew everything about dinner settings and thread counts, I would be worried. Thank you Jesus for a man with patience and an excellent sense of humor. He’ll need it with a knowy-pants like me.

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EB, RN


I have some new initials! That’s right, I passed the big bad NCLEX. I know most of you thought I had it in the bag and were not worried for a second. I wasn’t worried either until the moment I finished the exam. It was a bright and sunny day….

…And I had done all of the correct test-taking things. I started with sleep and nutrition. I have recently begun a nutrition plan with our friend Carol of Carol’s Cafe. She has me eating lean, vitamin-rich, and delicious. This healthy heroine packed me a pre-exam dinner and breakfast and post-exam lunch that I brought with me to Oahu. I booked a room at the Ala Moana hotel. I adore hotels. I also camp. But hotels and I have a special bond. So I slept like a champ and had a short little walk to the testing center.

I wasn’t nervous when they took my mug shot, scanned my multiple forms of identity, checked my person for cheating materials, and led me to the Cubicle of Truth. I also wasn’t nervous when I answered the questions. But then the computer went blank. I could have gotten anywhere between 75 and 265 questions for the Super Smart System to determine if I had what it takes. I answered question 75 and the Super Smart System either had had enough of me to know I couldn’t hack it or I had proved myself a lot more quickly than I thought possible and they booted me off with a “Thank you for completing the exam, please fill out this survey”.

And that’s when I got nervous. The shaking, eyes burning with tears, holding back the vomit kind of nervous. I got out of there as fast as possible and headed for the closest security blanket I could find, Starbucks. After I steeled myself with a few shots of liquid courage, I proceeded to shop for six hours straight.

If I stood still for too long contemplating clothing, I panicked about question #32 or yelled at myself for guessing. The good news is, I didn’t do too much damage for a marathon shopping trip, because I stuck to the cheap stores with the loud music so I couldn’t hear my panicky thoughts. The soundtracks at Forever 21 and PacSun are also great for covering the occasional outbursts of “Of course! Diabetes! Stupid!” Expensive stores are much quieter. Have you ever noticed that Nordstroms only has player piano music? Who knows what Nieman Marcus does since I only buy one Christmas ornament a year there. They probably have mimes.

I am not sure how Registered Nurse candidates of yore handled waiting for old-fashioned paper envelope test results. I logged on to the Quick Results website approximately 500 times even though it said to wait 48 hours. Hours?! How dare they call that QUICK? If I had to sleep the restless sleep of Post Traumatic Exam Syndrome for two months, I would not be fit for registered anything. At 6:30 am Saturday morning the website showed my results. I had passed. And as quick as the relief settled in, a billion more anxieties rushed in. Job, school, family, boyfriend (?!), travel. And I think it goes without saying but I will say that I wished with all my little stressed out heart that my mom was on the other end of a phone line to tell me how excited she was. So I had to make a conscious effort to enjoy the moment and thank God for his never ending goodness, his awesome blessings, his perfect grace. And I’m still choosing that.

EB, RN. Sounds good.

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