And on top of all that, I think I'm getting sick.

I am not having the best of weeks.

We are currently uninsured, and my son is about to run out of his medications for ADHD. We had one refill left on one of the meds, which cost $300 out of pocket. He's actually on 4 medications, but we will only be able to get the two main ones, due to cost restraints. The others I had wanted to wean him off of anyway.

I spent the entire day on hold, waiting for an appointment at the local clinic, just to get the kid prescription refills, and still got no one. It's really eye-opening and scary, not ever having been without insurance in my life. My job doesn't start insurance for employees until they are employed 90 days. It's freaken BS, is what I think. What the hell are we supposed to do? We couldn't afford the $1300 they wanted for Cobra back when we could've gotten it. And right now, it's affording either health insurance or his medication...but the health insurance has a prescription deductible, so it wouldn't help.

So, even if I paid for the insurance, I wouldn't be able to afford the medication, which is the whole point. So even though I am making a decent wage, down to the county health clinic and germ fest I go, because it's my only option to medicate my son so he doesn't act up and fail his classes.

But "no Obamacare"....no way....that makes too much sense to have coverage for EVERYONE so that prescriptions are affordable. I bet it would be cheaper for me to buy a plane ticket and fly round trip to mexico to get the prescriptions at an affordable price than to buy them from Target.

And then today I find out the kids are off the next two weeks for break.

Jesus H. Christ.

I will end up wanting to hurt one of them. Or all of them. lol.

It's about 90 degrees outside today. And I can't stop shaking, I am so cold. Goosebumps down my arms and legs, sitting outside. I am too cold to take a hot shower. I literally do not think I could take being naked and wet right now, I am so cold. I am so glad I have nothing constructive to do for the next two days. I need rest.  

Just when I underestimate him, he shows me why I married him.

While playing around with my new friend, Siri...I told her to send Andy a text telling him that I love him.

Which I followed up with a text telling him I made Siri tell him that, to which HE then responded, saying, "then it's not heartfelt."

Today, while working in my office, I received a text from Andy, in the garage, saying, "Can we have nookie? My phone is asking."

He doesn't have an iphone.

Touche. I almost said yes just because that was witty.

ALMOST.

Well, I'll be damned! (I probably already am.)

Andy got his damned free boat. It's got a cabin in the front and it's pretty big, and it works.

I have no idea how we are going to get it anywhere though, because the only car we have is a Ford Focus. lol.

To review on Andy's bartering trades, he traded an open, single axel trailer (approx. value $400) for a $300 mountain bike, $500 cash and a $250 generator.

Then he traded old army uniforms, two small pelican cases and the mountain bike for a 1973 Ford F-250, not working and had to be towed here.

Then he trades the truck for the boat. Straight across deal.

He also traded a search light for $1300 in store credit and $500 cash at the "Man Cave Consignment" shop. He's using the $500 cash to buy new paint for the bottom half of the boat, and then we will put new seating in as well, with profits he makes from his bartering and selling.

He kills me. I came home yesterday from 3 hours at Verizon to replace my cell phone (whole other story), to find a boat in my driveway where the truck had been, and Andy popped his head out of the top of it as I pulled in, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. I said to him, "Mighty proud of yourself, aren't you?" and he said, "Yes, I really am."

Such a dork. This is what happens if you retire young and poor, people.

I'm glad he had a good day, because mine was shit.

My son and his friend had downloaded porn one day (the friend is a bad influence who had been doing this at his OWN house too, I came to find out), so my laptop that is only 6 months old was working like crap. So I took it to Best Buy, and it cost me $200 and will take a week.

Then, on the way home, I got rear-ended by some idiot and messed up my bumper. I think he did it on purpose bc I wouldn't let him pass me.

Then my work computer wouldn't work, and I had to go to Verizon to upgrade my 3G broadband to 4G. The only good thing was that while I was there, I was able to get an iPhone 4S for $99.

So I came home last night, and talked to Siri for about an hour. I requested that every day at 10am, she tell me, "Hot damn, you are one gorgeous piece of ass!" and she sure did this morning. Scared the crap out of me.

You know you've hit an all-time low when you're getting validation from a phone.

Things I Covet, which, I believe is against one of the Ten Commandments

Of all the things that God/Goddess could grind in to stone...why can't you want things that other people have???

I had a list of things I have wanted for years, and I've mostly exhausted them. It's really a sad statement of your own creativity when a front-load washer and dryer is on that list. But here are things that I would like to have before 2012 ends, or before we all die from solar storms.

A boat that is big enough to take out friends and my dogs for the day. I am surrounded by water and have no craft to go out on it! In fact, I like to sit in the front of the boat and let the wind blow my "fur" back. (I have an immense afro when activated by moisture.)

A job at IMO.im. I love this awesome app. It's so useful to go to one source and be able to reach so many people at one time. As a multi-tasker, it saves time and keeps contacts organized. And it's easier than sending things out to Twitter, Facebook, Google+ and my IM's all individually.

A funfetti cupcake...which I know I am getting tonight since my friend is bringing them over, along with a homemade lasagna....and going to spend the next 24 hours lounging and watching salacious Lifetime Movies in PJ's.

A Sandra Cadavid handbag. They are gorgeous and I love supporting new businesses.

A new iPhone. I don't care if it's a 5 or not. But I dropped mine in a gin and tonic (true story) and now the speaker sounds weird. And...I didn't get the handset insurance through some fluke and didn't notice until I tried to use the handset insurance.

A vacation home somewhere warm and foreign. I don't care if I can speak the language or not. I can learn. Besides, pointing is very helpful in these situations. It's universal, as is a smile. ;)

A trip home to PA. I miss shoofly pie, Turkey Hill Iced Tea, my grandparents and my niece. In that order.

A cloudy/rainy Saturday or Sunday. Seriously, I knew California was sunny...but this is for the birds! The sun drains the hell out of me and it's never even overcast!

A publishing deal for my book, and to finish my book. But it's so hard to write when you're just uninspired for the day.

Waiting and waiting and waiting...

I am not happy at the moment. I can't talk about anything exciting or irritating at the moment. My lips are sealed, and keeping a good secret or rant is hard for me. AND I WANT TO RANT!!!!!!!!! But that's all a part of having a public life. You never know who is reading. I had to laugh this week, because Andy's bartering has continued. He managed to trade a mega-watt searchlight for $1300 in store credit at a place called, "Man Cave Consignments". So he got two paintballs guns, which I am not really pleased about, and left the rest to be determined. And his truck that he got, he finally realized he was in over his head and is either selling it, or trading it for a Jeep Cherokee that actually runs. The eventual hope is that he can trade that for a boat to work on. He kills me. But at least he's busy and occupied. I've been trying to find up and coming designers to feature on my other blog. I've also been looking at print magazines to try to get some entries added to my list of publications for my portfolio. I submitted a chapter of my book to one of them, but haven't heard back yet. It looks like it's going to be another boring weekend. But I have to just suffer through it until I get where I want to be financially. I've learned enough over the years about trying to save money, and I want to be secure, now that I have little debt. Just my car payment.

"Is this thing on?" (tap, tap...)

So, I know you are there. You're lurking in the misty woods, like a Cullen, waiting to read whatever drivel I put out.

I see the stats.

Yet, but for a few of you, you remain silent. No comments.

I like comments. They validate me as a writer, since I have such low self-esteem. (HA!) But I do really like comments because I know you are looking in at me, but it's like a mirror and I can't see any of you. Maybe you're a Craigslist killer in wait. Maybe you're someone I admire.
(Actually, even if you're a Craigslist killer and you read my blog, I admire you for that. You can't be all that bad.)

So, uh, speak up a little bit.

Now that THAT item is addressed...

WTF is the deal with the RHONY? Or, for those of you who don't get acronyms, The Real Housewives of New York. (Yes, I watch that show. STOP LAUGHING AT ME!)

I am in girl-love with Carole and Heather. I have a sick feeling in my gut that neither one of them will come back next season, because they're too smart, and not "white trash", as Ramona Singer actually had to google on last night's episode. Any time I actually like someone on one of these shows, they leave because they aren't dramatic enough. But this time, they got the balance right. I am on the fence with Aviva. All I can say regarding her, is that I would GLADLY sacrifice a leg to have her body.

Prosthetics are amazing these days.

On yet ANOTHER note...

My husband, Andy, has been trying to barter bullshit items on Craigslist to trade up to a boat to work on, and ultimately, use. Well, it finally paid off. He traded a Pelican case and a pile of old army uniforms for a 1970's Ford truck that needs to be fixed up.

The man has a project. Thank FUCKING God, because I get unnerved every time I go anywhere in the house during the day when I am working, and there he is...lurking like Chuck Norris in wait. It's like that Bing Crosby movie, "White Christmas", when he sings, "What do you do with a General, when he stops being a General..."

I bet 3 of you even know what I am referring to, because it was a musical, done in technicolor, and poor Bing is dead. So is Rosemary Clooney. Sigh. The greats....

The problem is..this truck has to be towed here, because it needs a bunch of crap done to make it run. And my husband thinks that because the guy is giving him all the parts that need to be put in it, that he can just google how to do everything.

This is not a mechanically inclined man. Give him a sniper rifle, and he's all over it, and can teach you how to shoot a mile away, calculating the curvature of the Earth...but something breaks down, and all hell breaks loose.

This is going to be interesting to watch. Stay tuned...

Who's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown? This bitch.

I swear to God, orange is not a flattering color on a larger sized woman.

I went to the Dodgers/Giants game this weekend with my friend and family. Our boys hadn't ever been to a professional sports game. Which is kind of sad, because we had ample opportunity when we lived within an hour of Atlanta.

So, at the 11th hour, we had to go get sports gear (meaning shirts), so that we could properly cheer for the home team. I have no relation to the Dodgers, so this was the obvious choice. Had it been a PA team, it would've been a different story, and I would've most likely been pummeled with hot dogs and beer.

Not that it would would be a bad thing. In fact, then I wouldn't have had to get up to get the stuff myself.

So, the other local teams have decent colors...Black for Raiders, Red for 49ers...
But Giants are orange. So I ended up looking like this:

 

Meet Charlie Brown's Great Pumpkin.

 

It gives off an orange glow to my icy pale skin, so I look like Snookie.

 

It's freaken hard to find clothes that look halfway decent when you're on a fat binge. And with my manly, line-backer broad shoulders, I just look more boxy.

 

They handed out free Giants t-shirts, but it wasn't til I sat down that I saw it was Latin heritage festival there, probably because I think half the team was of the Latin persuation, so the t-shirts were in spanish.

 

The last thing I need is further advertisement on my rather large rack, as it says "Gigantes" across the boobage area. I will never don that shirt. Everyone already knows they are Gigantes. Well, one is. The other is named Mt Diablo.

 

I was watching the Kardashian clan last night and Kris got her boobs reduced. I really need that but I am so afraid they will find a way to fuck up my nipples. My belly button seems placed rather high after my tummy tuck, and I don't want my nipples to be looking in different directions.

 

"um, ma'am, you seem to have a lazy nipple."

 

But right now, they make me look matronly, and I don't need that. In another ten years, I will be balancing them on my knees. They already hit the table and collect things in between. Big boobs are not for me. I just want a full B, or small C. Not the DDD that I am.

 

The stupid things you wish for when you're young.

 





Utterly Lost

So, we've been waiting since June to have the VA reopen Andy's claim. They shut the whole thing down when he got out, and we've had weekly phone calls to the VA that largely end up getting us nothing but more confused. It's a royal pain in the ass to get stuck talking to random people at call centers who all have different information.

But today, I think we actually might get somewhere, because they finally routed us to the office in Seattle where his file sits, gathering dust, and I guess our squeaky wheel finally got some grease.

Andy's mom and her "Partner" (which is what mature couples are apparently referring to themselves as, because BF and GF is for young folk, but I just think it makes people wonder if it's a man or a woman. Hmmmm...I am going to start referring to Andy as my "partner".) Anyway, they came out from the East Coast for a visit last weekend and I crawled out of my hole (office) long enough to socialize and go to the Sausalito Art Festival. I pretty much sauntered around, looking at things way out of my budget (and I have no more room to put "stuff"...I need a bigger house so I can keep shopping) and they had booze tents everywhere. I had a few glasses of champagne (because I was looking at fine art!) and a few margaritas, which was where it was at.

And, I acquired this...most lovely thing I saw:

It's a hand-bound (like the Monks used to do it, I was informed), purple leather journal with handmade bamboo paper, and antique hardware. It's freaken gorgeous. And cost as much as a 40 inch flatscreen.

I have had it for a week, but only take it out at night to stare at it lovingly. I don't want to just put ANY OLD CRAP in it. This is a book that you would find in an attic chest with some amazing and shocking story in it about your heritage, or like the "Never-Ending Story." I was thinking I really need to get out more so that I have more stories to tell, and then I realized I have quite a few in my basket already. It's just a matter of documenting them. I want my grandkids to read it when I die and both laugh and be shocked that "Nana" was so incredibly awesome.

And yes, I shall be called Nana. It should involve a "knighting" ceremony. "I now deem you evermore..."Nana" of the family." And they touch a baguette to both your shoulders.

There are certain rules to making up what your grandkids call you. Nana's have big boobs, a little extra cushioning, and always have what I refer to as "Mary Poppins" purses, which are large and hold useful things like moist towelettes, mints, crackers and other various ecoutrement meant for entertaining children.

However, I can hopefully make it to my mid 40's before becoming a Nana. But I caught my 12 year old trying to Google search porn on the internet the other day, so that probably won't happen. I had to sit him down and tell him that we have a long standing tradition in both sides of our family in teen pregnancy, and we'd like that to at least skip a generation. I also busted out the story about me having a teen pregnancy at 16, which my kids didn't know about. But I told him that a good rule of thumb is not to start having sex until your "tiny acorn" is big enough to even fit in a condom. Which is not the case at 12. He thinks Charlie Sheen is cool. Which, I think Charlie Sheen is cool too, but I wouldn't exactly want him to be a role model for my teenage sons.

I really need to enroll him in some all-male extracurricular activities.