Give up the ghost

I’m that friend that your parents wouldn’t let come over. After one night at my house you’ve told your parents about your wild encounters with ghost and dangerous roof top experiences. You’ve probably mentioned how I shoved you in a barrel and rolled you down the hill, or perhaps how I took you to a cave to show you where we found skeletons of Indians and used a flashlight to tell you their spooky tale. Maybe we stole my moms car and had a joy ride to visit a cemetery while breaking out the ouija board to summon ghost to talk to about their unfinished business?

We are all familiar with the ghost in modern times as leaving a relationship unannounced, no closure, no explanation, just gone. I have been the ghost. I’ve found it easier to just make a quick exit, rather than terminating things allowing me to regain my freedom. I’ve been the worst ghost of them all too. I’ve left mid date while the other party was in the bathroom, climbed out windows, ran into the woods frantically… I’m a runner.

I’ve also been ghosted before, I never really thought too much about it except at the beginning. You think, maybe their not as social as you? Their phone was stolen? Nope they’re dead, they’re definitely dead. Until their not, and you see them out and about and think, whoa buddy? I thought you died. Well you’re dead to me now, in case you didn’t know.

It’s never been a big deal to me because I see no answer as an answer it’s self. However, I’m seeing that doing this to people is only a way to avoid confrontation. It’s a cowardice move and the person I’m working toward becoming in this life is not a coward, she is BRAVE! I have recently been called out on my transgressions and it has made me respect that person even more.

So here’s my public announcement to anyone I have hurt by disappearing without notice:

I am sorry. We did not match as a couple. I wish you the best in moving forward in your pursuit of companionship. I understand I hurt you by making you feel you were not worthy of closure. You deserve to be happy!

This is me giving up the ghost. I respect you and the way you came forward and put me in my place. I hope I resolved any unfinished business and we can all move forward from here.

Who am I really?

Multiple personalities? Maybe… I like to name them so that I know who I’m talking to when there’s another side of me that decides to crash the party. My washer door broke last night, I called upon Darby, my butch side to help me fix it. Darby’s been with me since about age 13. She’s frickin handy but don’t take her on a date. Trust me. She can make any man question his masculinity and that’s no good on dates. Darbs was making fun of me last night because I didn’t know how to make my screwdriver work, she says we’ll have to get the right tools cause mine are crap.

I spent 20 minutes on the phone with Josh last night… or did I? I feel like Nancy took over that conversation. He was complaining, and that sent Nancy an invite to show her rear end. “Let me tell you about all the problems in my life right now bro”. After that phone call ended I had to ask Cora to sage my room to clear the negative energy that was just brought in. Cora thinks she’s a witch. I’ve got to hand it to her for keeping things interesting. However she left a candle burning last night that gave me a wicked headache this morning. Thought about burning her at the stake but I may need her around to poke a voo doo doll here and there. Nancy hates that we sage behind her every time she leaves the room, but like I told her, she’s contagious and I can’t allow everyone else to be infected just because she decides to show up unannounced. She’s probably sulking somewhere as I write this.

The number one thing people ask when meeting me is, “where did you come from?” One of my recent favorites was at my friends lake house, Kathy my best friend, was introducing me to her stepmoms sister and about 5 minutes into conversation she looks at Kathy and says, “where did you find her?!” Well lady that depends on which version of myself you were talking to at the moment but I’m pretty sure that was Hannah. She came about when I was around 5 years old and stepped on a piece of glass making her the worlds biggest worrier. I have to hide her when Blaze is around. She calls it involuntary seclusion, I call it getting rid of mom while we have a fun time. To each his own.

Blaze is one of my favorite sides but man oh man is she reckless. She has absolutely no rules and creates disasters for the rest of us to clean up… Blaze is the chick that keeps these guys lingering on months, even years after it’s over. She is so dang charming it sickens me. She’s one of the personalities I hide from the children… they can NEVER meet her, I’ve told her this. She is too care free and irresponsible to be around children. Jenna gets along well with her, Jenna’s an artist and so she connects with that carefree side. If you remember my dresser idea that involved blood spats that was Jenna and Blaze conjuring up an idea together. They need to calm down.

That’s my inner monologue for the morning. No I don’t actually have multiple personalities that I know of, we all talk to ourselves sometimes, I’m just weird and assign them names. I’ve seen you do it, don’t lie. If you’ll excuse me Rose needs to get ready for work.

I’d do it for free

Today is the day.  I’ve been at my current job for 2 years!  I’ve never done that before.  I used to do contract nursing to save myself from burn out.  I’d envisioned myself doing travel nursing as I got older because I don’t like to sit still.  I don’t like the same routine that drags you down day by day.

One summer I was working at a boys camp.  My brother Andy, who is a nurse sent me a text asking if I’d be willing to come work at his facility that needed nurses badly.  I immediately said negative.  I hadn’t even thought of wound care at the time.  I had zero experience.  I was talking with another nurse at the camp who I’d consider the momma bear of nurses.  I was laughing at the offer, explaining I didn’t do long term jobs.  I was a float and liked it that way.  Shortly after I shot the offer down a kid busted their head open. This may sound dark… but it was the most exciting thing I had taken care of that week 😬.  After fixing the poor feller up I grabbed my phone and texted Andy back saying, I’ll only work there if there’s a wound care nurse position open.  He texted back almost immediately and said there is!  I laughed and said well are they okay with taking on a nurse who has zero experience?  Yes.  The answer was yes!

The interview didn’t go well.  I made it clear I intended on getting the experience I needed, working no more than a year and then leaving.  My current boss says I’m very transparent hahaha.  Yeah I guess I am.  On top of that, I was working at a bar on the weekends making killer money and when I uploaded my resume I accidentally sent my liquor license instead of my nursing license 🤦🏻‍♀️.  I didn’t get the job.  They didn’t like my idea of coming in brand new, collecting skills and bouncing.  Eh I didn’t blame them but it was worth a shot.

Two weeks later I get a phone call asking if I could come back in for a second interview.  I said sure but nothing had changed.  I was still standing firm on the acquire these skills and leaving position I had presented.   I went in and the lady interviewing me was different than before.  We went through the exact same interrogation.  Only the ending was different.  They asked when I could start… who me?! I didn’t know at the time but the lady interviewing me was not the DON, it was the lady who hires the DON.  The big wig.  The main Kahuna.  I actually didn’t know for a hot minute who she was so the first few months I was complaining about my job to the lady 🤦🏻‍♀️.  I didn’t understand how my complaints got taken care of so quickly but now looking back, hahaha it all makes sense.

After almost a half year there I still had only acquired the very basics of wound care.  I didn’t realize how much there was to learn in this specialty.  I began researching everything in depth, contacting scientist, taking classes, I fell in love with what I was doing.  The caterpillar became the butterfly.  The one year mark hit and I remember leaving work and thinking… I think I coming back tomorrow.

Over this past year the work has extended out passed my own little bubble.  I get text and phone calls from facilities I don’t even work for asking my opinion on wounds.  I answer those 2am messages without a worry of being clocked in.  I think you’ve found the right job for you when you think to yourself, I’d do this for free.  If I didn’t need money to survive, I’d do this job for free!  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not the best wound care nurse out there, I don’t know everything and I’m still learning something new everyday, every once in a while a patient will come in and I’ll think “well what the heck is that!” and I’ll have to contact someone above me, but that’s not often and I am at that point where I can say I’m a good wound care nurse.  One day I’ll be the best.  So here’s to 2 years and counting!  Now where’s my raise?


Happiness in reality

I used to lay in this same spot staring out my old smudged wooden windows.  I’d imagine my life differently, living in a beach house with large windows and silk curtains.  The kids would have bows in their perfect hair and my husband would leave little love notes on the mirror before I woke in the morning.  I’d smell the salt in the air from the ocean and listen to the waves crashing outside the cracked glass door from my bedroom.  I imagined this is where and what my life needed to look like to be happy.  It’s sad looking back thinking about the time I missed not appreciating what I had, time I wasted on dreaming instead of creating. I don’t remember when the mindset changed so drastically, but I do remember the first time I felt it.  I remember standing in the back yard of my home, collecting the fallen branches from the trees to burn. Looking at the details of my small home and yard and thinking, this is perfect.  Every inch.  I was staring at my kids in the yard with their crooked bows and sweat soaked foreheads and it was perfect.  I remember it all hitting me so fast, the appreciation I had for all the unique and broken pieces of my life.  Seeing all these imperfections as perfections, exactly the way they are. It actually scared me.  I figured oh my goodness, I’ve achieved perfection… my journey on this earth must be over, I’m going to die soon!

I never imagined I’d be laying here in this same spot, looking out my old smudged wooden window, listening to frogs, adoring the light post in my neighbors yard and thinking this is perfect.

I wonder if this is one of the joys of being in your 30s that I used to read in magazines as a teen, you know the magazines for women and their thriving lives and how they would never relive their 20s.   I don’t think I’d ever want to go back and live that era of my life.  It was a lesson, and lessons are hard and make you into the strong person you are.  The 20s were dark for me, one big dark lesson.  I don’t like the dark.

The 20s humbled me, knocked me off my petal stool, and made me envious of everyone surrounding me.  That’s mainly because I didn’t have value invested in myself.  I didn’t even like myself.  I let other people tell me who I was and I believed them.  Somewhere through all the ted talks and self empowerment books, I was able to pull my head above water.  I began investing in myself, reading, exercising, starting hobbies, serving others, working, working, working… you get the picture.  I saw an image of who I wanted to be and worked for it and along the way I lost that dream of having a million dollar home on the beach and began to adore the little home I already had!


Here’s a current picture my sister snapped after I had worked all the hours in the day, I love how it displays all the aspects of my life with the backpacks, swords, crafts, old wooden door frame, all while wearing my nursing scrubs haha.  It’s not the perfect photo with a tidy house, makeup, or perfect hair, it’s just me in the now living my best life.

Happiness does not come from obtaining that picture perfect life you’ve imagined.  It comes from appreciating the life you already have and working to love yourself.  That’s my short ted talk for the morning, and letter of appreciation for all the imperfections in my life that make it perfect.


Dungeons N Dragons

At some point in our lives we’ve all had those experiences where we have received a text from the wrong number.  Usually we just say, “sorry wrong number” or maybe you’re feeling a bit extra and decide to play into to the text, impersonating the intended receiver.  Whatever the case, I usually stick with response #1.  That is until I was added to a dungeons n dragons group text… D&D for short 😉.  Don’t get me wrong, I told them I wasn’t the guy they thought I was… No one believed me.  I said I’m Annabelle not Conway, they all laughed and said Hi Annabelle but continued to address me as Conway minutes later.



After they refused to let me be dungeon master and shot down my idea of building a character with lobster hands, I was bored and went MIA.  Unable to locate the remove self from conversation button, and not caring enough to research it out I simply stayed with my new group ignoring MOST of the messages… that is until they started talking about girls, ooooh snap.  I figured this is going to be some great ease dropping text revealing stuff of how guys approach women.  I started reading through and realized these guy were in the navy, what?! Navy nerds, heck yeah!

87 huh? Are these real girls you’re talking about pal or some level 12 cleric you found online?  Dude really thinks he’s getting lucky.  I give him approximately 45 seconds.  I keep envisioning a group of guys in their navy uniforms surrounding a D&D board making sexual flirtation comments with 87 women surrounding them slowly eating pizza, letting the cheese separate from the crust as the men oogle from the sidelines, and suddenly a full on live action role playing session ensues leading to the most epic pizza D&D orgy… think game of thrones, except the setting is in your moms basement and you’re all in your 30s with a glass popcorn bowl, everyone smells of stale cigarettes, febreeze, and spiked fruit punch.  Count me in.  Stay tuned folks.  -Love Conway

It hurts so good


9B434B55-016B-4005-B9BA-730BF153CA67Week one post of the out of shape momma bear.  Working full time, 3 kids, hobbies, dating, friends, all of the above have been put as priority over my own health.  I used to be at the gym everyday, eating sweet potatoes and steak.  And then I slowly put that on the back burner while taking care of everyone else’s needs.  My dad told me once when I was a new mom, exhausted and depressed that I couldn’t take care of other people unless I took care of myself first! His one liners always stuck with me and I’ve found myself time and time again referring back to that statement when I feel tired and incapable of taking care of another person.  As a nurse you start thinking about your physical health after a patient tanks and you end up physically exhausted two minutes into chest compressions, thinking lord please don’t let me give out on this person.  This week I’ve started working out again, oh my lord it sucks eggs the next day.  Muscles I didn’t know I had are crying.  It burns to walk!  I like it!  I like being able to feel the work I’ve done the next day.  Looking down at my sore legs complimenting them, “well hello beautiful, I missed you 😉”  It’s only day 3 so I have, what? 27 more days to make this a habit? Challenge accepted. 

Author of little things

IMG_4164My kids love to create stories.  I often wake up to small drawings such as the deathly hollows symbol above, as they like to take the drawings and create another story.   My favorite thing to do with my kids is to let them hear new music.  Instrumental music from movie soundtracks are our favorites!  We take the long way home every time we fall in love with a new song. Each of us take turns telling a story to what we see with the music.   They have become experts at creating these elaborate short stories!  So I have decided, this is the year I write their stories down!  I want to make a book for them to keep.  I’ve never done this before and I’m sure I’ll have to have someone proof read and edit it but I’m excited!  To me it doesn’t matter if these books sale or go big, I am doing this for my girls.   I want them to always remember and cherish our time spent together.

Death becomes him

img_3649Last night I watched my dad die again.  I relive the same event several times a month via dreams.  I see him laying on the floor in his office, my mom panicked over the top of him and my brother struggling to get to him.  I’m at the end of the long hallway and I’m screaming dad, as I run but I can never seem to reach him.  It always ends the same.  He dies, and then he comes back to tell me to stop watching him die.  I can’t.  I don’t know how.  It’s carved into my memory.  It’s hard to go to sleep at night, out of fear of how I’ll awake.  My dad was stronger than the Incredible Hulk, smarter than Iron Man, and he could beat Chuck Norris up all while painting his toe nails with me as we listened to Britney Spears.  The trauma of finding my hero wounded and dying has not left me even after 6 years.  My dreams have become the only place I can meet him, where I seek counsel and guidance….  If only that sweet reunion would end in a peaceful goodbye.

My Bathroom Fiasco

I thought demolition would be the hard part.  Man oh man was I wrong!  It took us a good four hours ripping my surround shower tub combo out. We used different saws and hammers to break it apart and then carried it out in chunks. The guys helping me capped the water off so that I’d still be able to use the sink and what not.  Let me state this now,  if you haven’t followed my previous blog we are all winging this!  None of us have ever redone a bath before and we have been prepping ourselves with YouTube videos and advice from people we meet!  On that note, my ex husband does drywall for a living and offered to handle that part.  He is also a compulsive liar and it’s rare for him to follow through with anything he says.  Thursday was our demolition day, my ex was supposed to drywall Friday, and then Saturday we would tile.  It’s Monday morning and here I sit staring at the unfinished wall in my bathroom.


I’ve decided that after my morning class I am going to come back home and finish the job myself.  Heck, I watched him do it… he measured the wall, cut the hardie board with a razor and then screwed it to the wall, how hard could it be?  That’s only one of my dilemmas.  The other dilemma is that facet.  I think the guys helping me rigged it in the bathtub because it is not holding up well.


It’s not centered and there is a big gap between the tub and the facet. I’m having a mini stroke just seeing it, and imagining how in the world we are going to fix it. If ANYONE, ANYWHERE has advice for me I would greatly appreciate it!!!

A no-nonsense guide to getting over a breakup. — hannah brencher

Last summer, I went through a breakup that left me staring at my hands and wanting to loop the Wendy’s drive-thru over and over again until they restrained me from buying french fries. I sat on my couch with my nuggets in my lap and I called any person willing to listen to my ugly sobs. I […]

via A no-nonsense guide to getting over a breakup. — hannah brencher