It's My Day!

Hmmmmmm, another birthday. As a "grown-up" I think that is how I'm supposed to refer to having a birthday. Make it sound like I'm not at all happy about it. But if you know me at all, you know that I love my birthday! I make a big deal about it just like when I was a kid. I mean, come on......presents, flowers, cake. What is so discouraging about that?

Ooooh, the age thing? Ya, I've just chosen to ignore that part. As I said in a previous post, my maturity level peaked years ago. I don't feel anything like a "grown-up". However, that being said, I suppose I should admit there are a few behaviors I find myself engaged in from time to time that would indicate I may have, somewhere along the line, slipped into adulthood.

For example:

• When taking my daughters or even myself shopping for, ummm what's an appropriate term here........underclothing, I have no problem browsing through the merchandise to find the right size or holding it up to see if I think it will fit. This mortifies my children (which I understand. I remember feeling that way as a young'un). I just don't care anymore if I'm discovered by perfect strangers perusing the undies section.
• While looking at items in a store aisle, I don't care to move when someone comes along and seems to want to look at the same items. I was there first; they can wait! I used to feel obligated to move aside as if the approaching shopper were somehow far more important than myself and deserved to be there more than I did.
• I find myself yelling at the kids to turn their music down.
• My kids' teachers at parent-teacher conference don't intimidate me. I'm the authority figure now, not them. They need to listen to me and answer my questions, not the other way around. (Squid & Bear - this applies to me, not you. You still need to listen to and take direction from your teachers!)
• I find SpongeBob has lost his appeal.
• If I find something I like, I don't care what anyone else might think. If I like it, I like it. Exhibit A: My ugly zipper purse. Clearly I don't care what anyone thinks, or I definitely wouldn't carry this around.

As I look around and take inventory of my life as it is today, I really can't be discouraged at all. I am living the dream! When I was 10ish, I remember imagining what my life would look like when I was this very age. I remember envisioning myself married with children, living in a cute little suburban neighborhood, and working in a job where I could organize papers and use machines with lots of buttons. Well, I have all those things. Sure, I have other ambitions in life now. But everything that really matters in life has already come my way. Any future successes at this point are icing on the cake!

So there it is, all in writing: how I feel about life as I begin being 35. Just in case I hit a low point somewhere down the road, I can read this and remind myself that I don't have it so bad.

My Pitch Against Government Run Health Care

It's absurd to me that the government thinks they can do a better job of running health care than the private sector can. Actually, no, it's not absurd that they think that; of course they think that. They think they are the all supreme masters of the universe. What is unfathomable is imagining what health care will become if this stinking reform bill becomes law.
Now, understand, the following tirade comes not from a seasoned military insurance beneficiary. My blanket remarks toward an entire federal system come from only two brief, one year stints with Tri-Care.

To begin with, there's not one single entity which knows how the entire system works. You can't just call up "customer service" and get a step by step explanation of how to obtain the insurance, much less how to receive medical services. Staff at one phone number knows just enough to make you think you have all the information, when in reality, it's the tip of the iceburg. Being armed with what you assume is a full knowledge arsenal, you head off to the clinic on (insert military installation name here).

If you paid attention to the mail, you would by now know who your Primary Care Manager is. Oh, you don't now what that is? Well, you will have to revisit the phone tree approach to service and get a PCM assigned right away. After all, your assigned PCM is the gatekeeper to your entire physical/psychological well being. You cannot have any services without this guy/gal's authorization. However, the "system" can automatically bump you to a new PCM without your knowledge as they see fit. So don't get attached to a particular doctor, because you may soon have to part ways. Nothing is more heartwarming than retelling your entire medical history to the new PCM so they can pick up where your last doctor left off.

On occassion, you may have what you consider to be a serious condition which requires, in your non-educated, unprofessional opinion, immediate attention. Well, good luck with that. You'll still need a referral. Even if you call to get a referral to an urgent care off-base, they sucker you into waiting until the next available appointment with your doctor, because "it costs them too much" to have you go to an urgent care. Once at the doctor's office, you're then told that the custom medical equipment you need isn't covered on Tri-Care. Go buy it yourself. Thanks.

But, here's a little trick. Go to the ER at a hospital, take up their time and resources for a non-emergency, but kind of serious issue, and the PCM will have to authorize it after the fact. Sneaky, sneaky and not even close to cost effective for the system.

Once you have experienced the joys of all of the above, it's time to fill your prescriptions. It's great fun to get free drugs! Wait, not so quick. First you must wait for the doctor to send the Rx through the fancy computer. Once your Rx actually arrives at the pharmacy, you have to do what is called "activating" your prescription. It sounds like some kind of missionary effort. Now you are ready to wait for the pharmacy to fill it. Yay! Just wait for your name to pop up on the giant flat screen (I'm sure it's the taxpayers-didn't-really-pay-for-it economy model) and then you can go wait in line again to receive the goods. It may behoove you to note at this time that at each check point along the way, from signing in at reception, to getting labwork, to Rx activaton, and then finally pick-up, you will be asked to present your ID and "yellow card", which is the magical key that accesses top secret treasures (even though this card is handwritten and contains the same darn information as the computer system they use when they plug in your ID info.)

Are you tired yet? I know, this story is way too long and not noteworthy in the least. Now you understand how the government system will make you feel. Now imagine that you have to pay for this fine program. No, wait, not just pay for it, but be required to purchase it and pay for it under the penalty of law.

Should there be any doubt regarding the ridiculousness of this all, may I submit Exhibit A:  a sign posted at the pharmacy with instructions on how to . . . wait for it, wait for it................ How To Wait in Line. No, I'm not kidding.


I'm telling you, if this catches on, I think I'm going to start taking the fam to the vet with the cats for our continued health care. I'm sure it would be an upgrade.

What I Learned in 2009

• If you want warm feet, you’re going to have to break down and buy the expensive boots.
• Not all Mollys are really Molly. Watch your back and follow your gut.
• You’re good at what you enjoy.
• Army deployments are one year because that is the absolute maximum amount of time an Army wife can last before she spontaneously combusts! Six months, no problem. Nine months, eh…not bad. Eleven months…..getting dangerous. Twelve months…..almost insane. Almost. Twelve months and one day…….BOOOOM!!!!
• An ipod shuffle dropped in the grass in October, snowed on, and recovered in the spring after the snow melts will still work.
• Oneida has a website.
• Elliptical trainers are way cooler than treadmills.
• Deer hooves are funny.
• The pencil test lies.
• I think that dentists and periodontists give each other kickbacks.
• The internet pretty much rocks. Hulu. Enough said.
• Some people are just way too impressed with themselves.
• The Lord puts strength near us when sometimes we’re stupid and won’t accept the strength He tries to hand right to us.
• My maturity level peaked years ago. Thus, I will never feel or act like a grown-up.
• Despite the aforementioned epiphany, I must act more like the grown-up; certain teenyboppers are counting on it.
• Noodles and Co. is the best kept secret in town.
• Monkey see, monkey do.
• Ebay gives frequent buyer miles.
• It’s sad when a movie is supposed to be great, but even my 14-year-old can see right through it and be ticked off at the lame policital messages being shoved down her throat.
• I am not the motivator of me. I’m only half.
• Manual focus is really cool.
• Technology got away from me about 12 years ago.
• I judge all people who walk down the street.
• I don’t know how DownEast Basics outlet stays open.
• Two cats is heavenly. Three cats is not.
• I’m addicted to Diet Coke, not caffeine.
• I like making lists with bullet points.
• I have started four books this year and not finished one.
• I learned that I can make big changes that are difficult and sustain it, but slip once, and it’s all over.
• When it comes to people who frustrate you, sometimes it’s just easier to play their game and try to make their life easier and suddenly they aren’t so frustrating.
• Whiplash is real.
• I cave too easily.
• I’m an earwax collector.
• I don’t want to get old.
• Football is fun to watch.
• Expensive vacuums work better.
• It takes three repeats of each season to wean yourself from America’s Next Top Model.
• There is no need to wean yourself from Friends.
• I like jewelry. Lots of it. Not all at once, but lots to choose from.
• You can do everything right, but people will still misunderstand situations and you take the fall as a result…..aka….life’s not fair!
• I don’t understand wearing bracelets with long sleeves.
• Christmas without a new doll is like a birthday without cake.

Important Letter

Dear Old Man Winter,

I am uncertain if you're the one to whom I should direct this letter. To be honest, I don't know what your job is. Maybe I should be launching my complaints with Mother Nature. Do you work together? Are you maybe a project manager in her corporation? Regardless of the relationship and since I have no one else to blame, you get the brunt of my rant.

I would like to lodge a formal grievance relative to the amounts of extremely heavy and wet snow now canvassing my property. Some pretty, fluffy flakes softly blanketing the ground is one thing, but this watery mess weighing down the trees as well as my shovel is, quite frankly, ridiculous! You've got it out of your system now, so I will assume the remainder of the storms you have planned for the season will be appropriately fluffy and sparkly; not slushy and liquidy.

Thank you for your consideration of my request. With that being said, I suppose it would only be fair to temper the above with some favorable comments on the snow situation. Don't let this go to your head, remember that I am still an unhappy winter customer.

1. I re-discovered my free balaclava (thank you Outdoor Retailer Show and Snowfish). It actually kept my nose warm while shoveling.

2. My hours of work in the gym have translated to the shoveling arena where I poop out a good 20 minutes later than I used to.
3. I am reminded once again what wonderful neighbors we have. Thank you to whomever keeps plowing us out before I can get to it. I feel like a slug when that happens, but it frees up my time, which is needed to clear the back patio to prevent flooding.
4. I get to put my new 4-wheel-drive Rav4 to good use. It really loves the snowy roads. Makes me feel safe and in control.
5. There's just nothing cuter than kitty paw prints in the snow.
6. The girls are so happy these days when they're sledding or building an igloo in the backyard. If nothing else, I should be grateful for the snow because of this.



7. I get to imagine my neighbors laughing in the warmth of their family rooms while they hear me grunting, groaning, even yelling out loud with each scoop of the shovel. It's like listening to a Williams sisters tennis match.
8. Despite my dismay at the manual labor, I can't help but think of how lucky we are to have our health.

Like I mentioned earlier, Mr. Winter, don't let these thoughts of gratitude lead you to think I want more sticky, wet snow. A nice fluffy coating on Christmas Eve will be welcomed, but after that, you can be done.

Kind Regards,

Snow Recipient #11675

Mundane Musings

I feel like writing, but I don't have a topic. No story to tell. Nothing. I'm just sitting here with my fingers on home row tapping on the keys waiting to be inspired. A cat walks by. That only reminds me that GusGus ran away for two days, but now he's back. That's not interesting. I just made chili. Also pretty lame. Delicious, but not interesting. Hey, look at that: four lines already. It's as if I was writing. If I were at the airport or in a Starbucks, someone would think I'm important because I have so much to type. They will think I have colleagues with which I converse via email. They would be wrong. I'm just typing to hear the cool clicky sounds the laptop keys make.

Oh, grapes! We didn't discuss the grapes. How could I be so careless? See me ponder the wonder that is the perfect bunch of grapes.

And then bask in the glory of the green grapes......................................

...............................and then the purple grapes.

These all got squooshed and became the 2009 troupe de juice - extra pulp.

And now, basket-o-fluff.

And..........footstool-o-feline.

My eyes are itchy. Gotta go, bye.

Exercise Enlightenment

I love my 30's! So much wisdom is found in these years that so stealthily (is that a word?) crept up on me. There is so much knowledge amassing here that I will be able to take my 40's off from acquiring knowledge to simply wallow in my elderly status.

One such awakening occurred last night at the gym. You've all seen this chickie at the gym, right? I'm sure her name is probably Mindy or Holly or something irritatingly sweet.

We hate her, right? Stupid girl, with her tight buns and her effulgent perkiness! Ya, she's a real bitch! And there I am on the elliptical with my non-tight buns and perkless presence huffing and puffing away. It was in the throes of this agony at mile marker 1.33 and heart rate 148 that it dawned on me: I should be thanking this girl we all hate. As long as she is prancing around in her tight little suit, with her perfect assets drawing the attention of everyone else in the gym, nobody is gazing in horror at the sight of me fighting the battle of the bulge.

It's bad enough having to go to the gym and exert actual effort, but the added terror of people staring and ridiculing the fat chick makes it all the more unappealing. But thanks to fitness gal, the only thing I have to worry about is becoming exhausted and falling flat on my face on the treadmill. Now that would be a sight I wouldn't blame people for watching.

Serendipitous Occassion

The official stance of the administration is:  I hate to travel. Oddly enough, despite the administration’s aforementioned declaration, every time I travel, it seems there’s a contradiction in this position. I cannot travel without being entertained by the display of peculiarity that the public so freely offers. At this time, let me insert the fact that I myself provide plenty of fodder for other bloggers’ observational musings. I am that person who seeks the perfect, isolated seat and will circle and backtrack until it is found. Yes, when I get to the end of a terminal having not located this elusive resting spot, I will pull out my boarding pass, or check my watch, or look quizzically at the gate number so as to appear that I have another purpose in that moment besides just wandering. Or how about the scene of me bending over to adhere a secret, smiley-face sticker on the wall in an inconspicuous place for my husband to find next time he flies through that particular airport. I fully expect TSA to approach me one day and take me away for questioning.

But my own eccentricities are beside the point. Or maybe they ARE they point. I haven’t quite figured it all out.

One thing you should know:  the trip I speak of today, heading for Columbus, Ohio, began on my seventh wedding anniversary, 10/11/2009. (10/11 chosen for its idiot proof consecutive numbers). I told Stretch that my present for him this year was to travel two time zones closer to him; we’ll spend the night together – only seven hours apart. What can I say? I’m a romantic at heart, and so very thoughtful.

Anyhooo, this trip began with a note in my car from little Bear. Beside the note was a bag of eight cookies; one snickerdoodle and seven Chips Ahoy. She wrote, and I quote, “Dear Mom. Happy Anniversary.  I love you and I will miss you a lot while you are gone. So here are 7 cookies each represent each year you have been with dad. And the snikerdoodle is for the road. I will miss you A LOT. Love Mom.” How cute, I left myself a note. Or Bear was in a hurry and wasn’t being paid to proofread. How cute is that?

Off to a good start, I’d say. The remainder of the day brought many fantastic occurrences, ie: fashion-gone-wrong, confused and angry travelers, $4.00 bottles of water, toilet seat wrappers (no, not seat covers – plastic wrappers that automatically rotate around the bowl for each new visitor), pooches who must have an aversion to doggy-daycare since they simply must travel with the pretty people on the plane, “guacamole holders” (aka – chips) at the Mexican restaurant in the Chicago airport, and of course the latest on the Jon and Kate plus 8 divorce drama as told by People magazine. I should have warned you to take a big breath before that last sentence.

If you're struggling to tie in the title of this post, I'll make it a little easier for you now. It may have been my anniversary upon departure, which is exciting enough in and of itself, but my return trip fell on Columbus Day. How many of you can say that you spent Columbus Day in Columbus? I'm just the coolest ever! To commemorate the occassion, I purchased myself a "Nothing Tips Like a Cow" t-shirt in the Columbus airport. Yup, just the coolest!

A little life lesson for you: be grateful for each day and take advantage of the little life lessons along the way. Are you listening? I’m talking to you - very unattractive couple wearing the matching, smiley-face bandanas on your heads. This is your little life lesson: do not ever, ever wear those again! In fact, it is important that you get rid of them as quickly as possible! Not even a muppet would be caught in public looking like that! Advice for myself: a post with two smiley-face references means it’s time to close the laptop and find something meaningful to write about.

With that thought in mind, I bid you adieu from Dallas, where I sit waiting for my flight which has been delayed two hours. Did I mention I hate to travel?