CPR and First Aid. In the words of Julia Roberts as that famous hooker with a heart of gold, "I'm a safety girl." After college I worked with Americorps NCCC and one of the requirements before being released into the general public was three days of CPR and first aid training. Three days?! That's probably more than firefighters get. After suffering from a mild nervous breakdown and leaving Americorps, I got a job at a group home where, lo and behold, I was required to attend another CPR course. Two years of working with unstable teenage boys at the group home convinced me I would be an excellent teacher (hmm, I wonder if that moment of clarity was a direct result of my aforementioned breakdown). I'm sure you've guessed by now that carrying around a CPR certification card is part of the teaching gig. All told, over the past 10 years I have probably spent more time learning how to clear vomit out of an unconscious person's mouth than I have on dates. My god, that's a depressing thought. What's even more depressing is I have never had an occasion to practice all the knowledge I soaked up in those riveting training sessions. That's where you come in, Jason. If you ever break a bone, suffer a nasty gash on your forehead, or go on a bender and pass out in a puddle of your own vomit, I will come to your rescue. If you get any bodily fluids on the interior of my car, though, you're on your own. Upholstery cleaning wasn't covered in any of my classes.
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