I don't feel like I'm thriving, but who knows.

So, I have a new husband, thus I have new health insurance. Almost free, incredible coverage, fully reimbursable, union-health insurance. I'm not bitching.

OK. I am.

I loved my old doctor. I had 11 years of history with her. She delivered my daughter. For 3 years she continually told me I was not crazy, when clearly I was. She wasn't a doctor who handed out script and rushed you out the door, but she wasn't opposed to helping a girl get a good night's sleep every now and then either. She is not part of my new coverage. I married into the big box club that wants the world the "Thrive."

(sigh.)

(I'm going to make some microwave popcorn so I can grease up my keyboard as I type this... just a sec.)

(OH! did I mention that last month I found a cockroach in the drawer, in the break room at work? A COCKROACH! Seriously. I took the rest of the day off... Paid!)

OK, thanks for your patience. Back to my story.

Monday, I went in for an establishing physical... I will mention now that I had to argue with the appointment lady, who's switchboard is in another state, to get a girl doctor. "Thrive" is apparently so popular that none of their women doctors in two states was accepting new patients. I was like, "Bull Crap. I didnt choose to "Thrive" I married into it. I want a woman doctor, find me one."... and she did... sometimes it pays to hold your ground. When it doesn't, be a tactful-bitch.

(see. I was raised right!)

Fortunately this wasn't the gown with socks and speculum physical. More like a nice-to-meet-you-what-drugs-are-you-currently-prescribed-none?-would-you-like-something-oh-by-the-way-you-drink-too-much physicals.

I left work, picked Monkey up from school, arrived 15 minutes early, like their courtesy reminder call from Friday requested, and got checked in. Then we sat in a waiting room, which was more like an airport boarding area, full of people coughing and sneezing into their hands then touching the chairs and magazines and each other, all being redirected to another boarding area to enter the raffle for an H1N1 Vaccine. For An Hour.

Finally this 40ish perky lady calls the next name, "Fickle Newwife". I look around to see which germ factory's turn it is. She says it again, "Fickle Newwife" sounding a little less perky. Finally on the third time I realise she's talking about me. I've been Fickle Chic for a long time, Newwife isn't familiar on anything but paper yet.

(I hope you're enjoying this story as much as I'm enjoying this popcorn.)

I explain the name thing as she walks Monkey and I though the door. She resumes perkiness and tells me to have a seat, right there in the hall. Monkey stands, like an angel, against the wall (shocking!) and the preliminary interview begins.

"First your Temperature: 98.9 good. Blood pressure? excellent. Pulse? yep, still there. Weight? well that's not bad for someone who drinks a bottle glass of wine everyday. Height? You shrank an inch this year. Now follow me this way and you can wait for the Doctor."

In the exam room Monkey sat in the chair and I on the "table", and the full disclosure began... This is my favorite part because I get to talk alot about ME.

"I'm not sure but I can call my mom.... I don't think so but that sounds familiar....I think my sister has that... Yes, I have but I don't anymore... Just once, but that was a long time ago and I didn't inhale... Could you please define alcoholism (we're not mean or anything.) Really? then my whole family and almost everyone I know is likely affected by that... No, I haven't had a TDap. You're right I should probably get one. I tend to step on rusty barbed wire with my bare feet."

So the Not Doctor leaves and Monkey and I get really involved in an intense game of "I Spy" when the Real Doctor comes in.

I should've been a Doctor. She's my age (ish.) and even though she works for "Thrive" I bet she makes alot more than I do... and seriously, she spent all of 5 minutes with me over an hour after I was on her schedule.

(I'm seriously chowing this popcorn... I feel like a pig, but it's friggin' good!)

"Ears; good. Throat; normal. Glans; normal. Boobs; nothing out of the ordinary. Are you taking any medication?"
"No."
"Is there any questions you have for me."
"Well... I keep gaining weight no matter what I eat or how much I exercise."
"That happens as we get closer to 30."

(insert blank stare...)

If you went to a hair stylist, and you were asked to be 15 minutes early then you sat waiting for an hour only to have some other person who looks like a stylist but isn't actually a stylist come wash your hair and set the foils then rinse and prep you for the cut only for your real stylist to come in with the scissors and give you a quick, cold, trim then say "you should probably drink less. did you have any questions for me. OK good. it was nice to meet you. not-stylist will be right in to blow dry and style as you wish." wouldn't that piss you off?

OK. I wasn't pissed, just in awe. Taken aback, if you will.

So, Real Doctor leaves, Not Doctor returns. Monkey sees the TDap and immediately says, "Mommy, I'm not sick. I don't need a shot."
To which I reply, "No baby, the shot is for me."
"Not feelin good huh? It's OK, you're a big girl. Just sit up and take a deep breath."

I Love Monkey!

A quick stab in the arm, didn't feel a thing. I mention that the last time I got a tetanus shot it hurt immediately, like when the horse bit my arm. Serious muscle cramping ache in my arm. This time nothing.

Not Doctor explains that sometimes people hit the wrong spot.

Yesterday, my arm hurt. That horse bite, deep muscle, painful to stretch or reach for things hurt. I went to my girl gym to work out, and my arm cramped up and it was painful to do three of my arm exercises. It still hurts, popcorn and all.

Not Doctor is a liar.

This is not "Thriving".


~cheers!

HEY! Are you still reading this?!

Um, Hi!

I, apparently, have not posted in over a month. Sorry 'bout that, if you've actually noticed that I haven't posted.

I didn't.

Updates:

We got a house. 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, with a barn on 5 acres!! It's wonderful and magnificent and incredible. Truly. I cant not believe that I will get to call it home. More on this when all is signed and the keys are in my hand :o)

The wedding is a month from yesterday! I have less than a handful of little things left, but nothing major. The bridal shower was cheesy but fun, the bachette should be great times, and for some reason I totally can not wait to sit up til late in the night tying raffia, adorned with little silver cowboy boot charms, onto mason jars.

Ah... joy!

Seriously, I cant wait!

So I've been reading tons of incredible blogs, almost daily, and frankly... I'm envious. I have all these everyday life occurrences that would make for excellent blogging, but I don't walk around all day and night taking notes so I forget the details of these little stories.

(SHAME!)

Note to self: All the pot you smoked between 19-25 just caught up with you.

Anywho, check out the ladies (ahem!)(snicker) over at Aiming Low, for those of us who, for the sake of our own sanity, strive for good enough instead of perfect. Bouts of laughter and nodding of your head in affirmation, guaranteed!

I hope summer is treating you well. I hope your skin is golden brown and not blistered, your kids are bound and gagged in the closet enjoying the time off and staying out of your hair, and that you have plenty of ice cold beer to quench your thirst.

More to come, I'm sure.

~cheers!

Busted!

Everyone knows that all men look at porn. That's a given. It's expected.
That being said, it still bums me out when I actually bust The Cowboy looking at porn on the computer. It's a little "awe com'on" when I find it in his phone, but to come home from picking up my wedding dress, walk up the back steps and look through the back door (which is a big window) to see naked chicks on the computer monitor... it's a little depressing.

All in all I think I handled it well. I shook the handle (to get his attention.) set my purse down on the porch, told monkey to go find the puppies, so she wouldn't catch a glimpse, and methodically started digging for my keys. He had to close several screens before he could come open the door. He was pale... that part was funny. He thought my mom was with me. Fortunately she had decided not to come in. I didn't say anything, but I didnt act like I wasnt saying anything because I was upset either. I just went through the kitchen and set down my things then went to folding the laundry.

I know The Cowboy likes beautiful naked women. I've happened upon his "picture" files on more than one occasion. And, I've met more than one of his ex-girlfriends. I know it's silly to let it bug me and I try really hard not to, because I know that ALL guys do it. There is just something about not being ogled by the man who wants to marry me, knowing that he ogles lots of far more beautiful, photo shopped women, that just ...

dammit! it hurts my feelings and makes me feel inadequate.
OK I said it.

I know it's stupid and lame and well... stupid and lame, but I cant help it. God didn't bless me with beautiful full breasts and it's something I've always been very self conscious of. I've suggested a remedy to this problem, but he seems to think that should I get this "correction" it will automatically mean I will cheat on him... because apparently that's what women do when they get that done. I have a different opinion; these are for ME!

Him being fully aware of this insecurity of mine does not stop him from hunting down better things to look at, on the internet. I don't even know how to broach this subject with him. I know that, really, I just need to get over it. I know he does it... just something about catching him, not just finding the pictures, but actually catching him surfing thorough them...
grrrr......


~cheers (it's Friday)

I'm Outta' Here

Happy Fried-day!

I have nothing too pertinent to share today. Which means this is going to be long post, doesn't it?

I'm sad that my former co-office goddess has chosen to part with ME in a negative light. Her uncle let her go, because she doesn't want to come in and work, she just wants to write herself checks once a week. Things slowed down to the point that he doesn't need two people in the office anymore... and for somehow that makes me the wretched b**** who deserved to be shunned. Sad yes, I am. So is she.

We're off to find a wedding site tomorrow. We being my mom and I. I'm excited and annoyed. My love... oh how I love thee. Why on earth did I think that he would be any different than any other male when it came to planning our wedding? I dunno either, but for some reason I thought he'd at least help me pick a place. Oh No! I wanted small and intimate, he wanted a real wedding. OK I can do real wedding. Now his input is limited to "If we have it on a Friday people wont come." that's all... nothing more.
PSSSSHHHHH~
ooh ooh ooh I did find a pretty dress though!

I'm not big on football, but beings that I am "maritally required" to root for the Steelers, YAY Steelers! (or whatever.) We are going to a Superbowl party on Sunday, so that should be fun, right? Hang out with a bunch of My Love's friends wives, who thought I was a flash in the pan and are now forced to remember my name because I'm not goin' anywhere. I love these few and far between shindigs... practice the smile that shows in your eyes, be polite, and remember they don't want you to engage in their conversation just pretend that you're interested in what they're saying.

OH, and the last thing I will blurb about today... something I don't think many women say... I love my bathroom scale! I bought one last weekend, and while I'm sure it was just adjusting or whatever those things do... the past 3 days it has consistently showed the same weight, which is 4 pounds less than it said the three days before that! So, Yay for little insignificant things that keep the happy bubble inflated!

Have a joyous weekend!

~cheers

Co-Habitating Has Lost It's Charm

I have an unwelcome guest staying with me. It announced it's impending visit last Tuesday, and my efforts to dissuade it proved futile. I have no idea how long it will be here, I'm trying to make it as uncomfortable as possible with the hopes that it will decide to go bother someone else... far far away from me.

Yes, the guest I speak of is a cold. My head feels like a balloon, my throat is parched to no avail, and I have this tremendous knot in the middle of my back that no length of massage or stretching has been able to relieve. I would LOVE to call in to work and stay in bed for a whole day, but The Crazy Horse Lady decided to come home after a week instead of staying out on the road. Needless to say, sitting at my desk sipping tea and filling tissue beats laying in bed inhaling her fumes while she curses Obama and talks about the impending doom of the world, hands down!

Between her and my going-to-be-father-in-law, I got so incredibly burned out on politics during the election that I have not given one aota of thought to the outcome. I'm glad Obama won. I thought Sarah Palin was a kick in the pants, but in hindsight I think the right person won. Hopefully he has what it takes to turn the country around. Maybe he can get away from the bickering of two sides and take the side of ALL of the American people who are just trying to live their lives, raise their kids, and not step on anyone else's toes.
(I'm going to leave it at that.)

I am so over roommates. A couple of years ago, I loved living with people. It was like always having company and I thought it was fun. Even though my last roommates pulled a Jekyll and Hyde on us, I didn't understand how people could grow to hate having friends around all the time. Now, I absolutely can not wait to buy a house. We are pretty close actually, should get our pre-approval this week!
(hoping. praying. lots of praying.)

OK. sorry to cut this off abruptly. perhaps it is complete, perhaps my brain has officially ceased function. I don't even remember what I was thinking about, suddenly I've been inundated with inauguration and I want to go to sleep...

~cheers

Please Hold for the Next Available Annoying Salesperson

Really, whomever decided to enlist automated telemarketers to make initial contact should be honored... and smacked!

Now I get to hang up on an annoying recording rather than feeling just a little bit guilty for hanging up some poor college freshman who sounds super perky and is obviously just trying to make some money to feed herself.

I rank telemarketing as one of the top jobs that slowly erode your self esteem.

When I left her dad, his new girlfriend (who overlapped me; which is a whole other blog... or series of blogs, possibly to come at another time when I'm feeling really crappy about life) was a telemarketer/artist. She had one of those super bubbly voices and could probably sell snow to Eskimos. She, by no means, made "money" but she was able to pay her rent, when she went to work.

I don't really understand people who complain about being broke then don't go to work everyday. And when said people get their paychecks, they don't want to feel broke so they don't pay their bills... or they pay a small portion of their bills so they still have money for really important things like going to the bar and playing poker and buying super fancy art supplies only to drop out of art school because they're broke and need to get a "better job". (ahem!)

anywhoo... where was I? Oh yes, the automated telemarketers.

If you're going to ring my phone - my office line that is, they rarely call my cell Thank Goodness! - at least have the courtesy to have a person available to say what you're calling about. If you don't have enough staff available to dial a phone number to waste 15 seconds of my blog time, don't have a friggin' computer call me and politely ask me to hold for the next available representative. Perhaps if I knew what they were representing I would be interested (not likely. just play along.) but I don't wait on hold long enough for my love to answer call waiting... why the heck would I wait on hold just to hang up on a person?... HELLO! Does that make any sense to you?

I guess what I'm really saying is, if you have a computer call me because you know I'm going to hang up on a person... why bother placing the call in the first place?

Cheers!

Planning to 'Wing it'

I didnt sleep well last night, and the lingering effects are that of a hangover. I look like crap, I feel like crap, I really want to curl up and go to sleep, and I have heartburn that I think was spawned from the delecious black forest mocha I wasnt going to indulge in this morning... I hate heartburn. It reminds me of being pregnant, when I ate berry flavored tums like they were candy. I'm cranky and I dont want to work, which is another unfortunate part of it being Monday because of course there is alot of stuff for me to procrastinate on. And for some reason the more I try to procrastinate the more my office becomes a central meeting point for everyone else who wants to procrastinate but make it look like they're really working, which makes it really hard to fake working. I mean, it sounds like I'm working so all should be good... maybe.

So over the weekend I was thinking about this blog. I really just need a sounding board, a place to write. Some place where others may eventually read what I put into words, and even comment some time. I really enjoy reading other people's blogs, I'm possibly even a little envoius of all the people who discovered this excellent time killer long before I. This is not MySpace, WOO HOO! or Facebook. This isnt a popularity contest, at least not in the same sense as other "social networking" sites. It's refreshing to me, at least at this point... I'm babbling arent I? ok... rewind...

Thinking about this blog over the weekend, and all of the things I could write about and it struck me that I could easily write a biography of the past ten years in one blog just to get all of the background to where I am now... but rest assured, I wont. I'm sure some things will come to surface in my entries because every event in the past 8 years or so has lead up to exactly where I am in my life right now. People talk about regrets and if only's, but I can honeslty say that while I have made some really selfish and just plain BAD choices, I do not regret a single one. I know, in my soul, that if I changed even one key event of the past 8 years, I wouldnt be in the relationship I'm in, I wouldn't be living the life I am living, and I wouldn't be happier (in the big scheme of things) than I ever could have imagined. I have an amazing daughter, a decent paying job, a mostly loyal puppy, a work in progress 4 year old buckskin quarterhorse, and plans to marry the man of my dreams once we work out some details. Who could ask for more than that?