Music Monday: Bait & Switch

Rudy doesn't believe this either.

Well, well, well...Look who's shown up again on a Monday. These continue to be some of the most trying times HUBS and myself have had.

Luckily, my health issues are basically cleared up, and we're experiencing the kind of financial relief that can only be understood by anyone who's been unburdened of several thousands of dollars in debt.

But...

But, HUBS is still pretty bad off. He had an MRI last week and we found out he's got a bulging disk and another disk that about to bulge. He's been in tremendous pain for a full month and nothing has helped him get back to work or fix the problem enough so that he can live normally. Not the physical therapy, or the major pain medication, or the cortisone shot he had last Thursday which was directed right at his bad disks.

Actually, about that shot. The orthopedist told us it should take up to 48 hours for it to kick in and HUBS to experience some relief. He called the doc this morning, since, clearly, that didn't happen. What did the doctor tell him this time? That it could take up to a full week for the cortisone to work.

You know what? If that was the maximum amount of time for him to get back to some semblance of normal, why did he not tell us that before, during or immediately after HUBS got the shot? On top of that, this doctor apparently makes it a policy to never take people off work for injuries like this. So, now HUBS is using sick days to cover his time off, because if the doc won't sign off on staying at home worker's comp won't pay for it.

I SMELL A CONSPIRACY! WORKER'S COMP SENT US TO THIS DOCTOR FOR TREATMENT, WHO JUST HAPPENS TO NOT REMOVE PEOPLE FROM WORK DUTIES. MEANING, HE'S EFFECTIVELY SAVING THE WORKER'S COMP PEOPLE MONEY. REGARDLESS OF WHETHER OR NOT IT'S A GOOD MOVE FOR THE PATIENT TO GO BACK TO WORK.

Yeah, I said it! I'm on to you medical conspiracy fuckers!

Wow, it feels good to get that off my chest! Let's listen to some music now, I need to calm down...

I Didn't Tell You About The Ants, Did I?

Last Sunday was awesome. I cannot tell you guys how wonderful it is to walk into your kitchen at 10 am on a Sunday morning to find ants swarming all over the counter, sink, stove and cabinets. Actually, I can tell you: IT WAS HORRIFYING.

Now, for the past couple of months I'd seen ants here and there around the house. Finally, a couple of weeks ago, I did something about it by drawing a chalk outline around all the windows (I saw this work - ants really don't like chalk), which is where I figured they were coming from. I didn't see any ants for a few days and then BAM! Kitchen Ant Farm City.

As you can imagine this was way worse than having a couple of ants in the living room, bedroom and bathroom. Since, you know, the kitchen in where our food is. I had to spray the sink, counter tops, cabinets and floors about three times in two days, and it took until last Friday for me to stop seeing any ants at all. And, at the same time all this was going on, we discovered we have an actual fucking hole in our bathroom sink pipe. Since nothing is ever easy around here, the hole is in the pipe that goes into the wall, not the one we could easily replace. Yay!

Home ownership is such a joy, isn't it?

What Just Happened?

You don't want a photo of what this post is actually about. Really...

So, I was at work today. Doing my thing, everything was going fine. Then, I looked down at the table I was working at. I saw a small black oval surrounded by what looked like a water stain. Using a calculator, I moved it further back on the table. It rolled. Then I used a small box I'd never have to pick up to see if it was...well, soft. It was.

God Dammit. I knew the warehouse I worked in wasn't the fucking cleanest place on earth. I mean, there's a roach trap on the kitchen counter, after all. But this... Looks like a turd. Rolls like a turd. Smashes like a turd. Shit, y'all. I found a TURD on the table at work!

Granted, finding one is better than finding many. And finding small animal (or large insect) droppings is better than finding the human variety. But this? Totally uncalled for. I felt hot, dizzy and sick to my stomach for the rest of the work day.

Fucking turd...

The Strangest Things

X marks the spot, all right.

Last Thursday I had another in a life-long line of odd things happen to me.

I'd been wearing a Band-Aid on my finger to protect a dry, raw spot from all the paper I flip through at work. I was getting ready in the morning, and, by the time I was putting on my gloves, noticed that it had fallen off. Not a big deal, I figured I'd find it later.

So, about 8 pm that night I head to the bathroom before eating dinner. What do you think I found in my underwear? Yeah, that's right internet. My Band-Aid. But, that's not even the weird part. It wasn't just hanging out in there all day, nonononono. IT WAS STUCK TO MY PERSONAL LADY HAIRS. ALL DAY. You read that correctly. I had to cut a Band-Aid out of my...area.

This is the type of thing that could only happen to the girl who had a bird shit into her non-convertible car while she was going 65 mph on the high way (my passenger side window was rolled down about an inch...No, I'm not kidding. Really did happen...).

Internet Anonymity Strikes Again

A few weeks ago I asked for advice. A guy named Neal, who's never commented on my blog before, popped up with some choice words for me. I tried to find out a little bit about Neal, but his profile is private so who knows what the dude is all about. But, he does not seem to like me.

Anyway, he's now commented twice on my blog and I think he's way off about a lot of stuff. You can read his words after this post and this one, but below I've highlighted (in italics) some of the things he said and why I think he's wrong. Let's go.

That precious image you've carried of yourself all these many years, the gay, fun-loving life, the social whirl, being admired for your accomplishments, being the center of attention, having it all revolve around you . . . And now confronted by the reality of being 35 and it ain't nothin' like that.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Neal, you obviously don't know as much about me as you think you do. I have absolutely never been a part of any social whirl or the center of attention to anyone but my mom when I was a kid. Nothing has ever "revolved around" me and I've never been anything, admittedly, but slightly above average in most respects. I've always been firmly sure of my reality in this world, which doesn't mean I can't change it. We're not working with a caste system here.

Nope, sorry, not true. That's the fourteen-year-old speaking, the child who's convinced the world revolves around her dreams.

So, because I have dreams that makes me a child? God, you're pretentious. Congratulations on apparently not having any hopes or goals for your own life, Neal. Too bad the rest of us can't be as mature as you and not want anything. If I thought the world revolved around my dreams I'd be in relentless, bloody, damn-everyone-else pursuit of them every minute of everyday. Is anyone with the desire to move beyond their current station in life a mindless child, too? I guess all the homeless people should just give up now, huh?

You're certainly not "the ultimate Jill of All Trades," so maybe you should stop saying that to yourself.

Guess what? You don't get to tell me, or anyone else, how to define themselves. I may not be famous, but I'm a fucking good writer and photographer and I do get paid for it. I'm also a painter, chef, baker, driver, listener, joke teller, collage artist and expert maker of bathing paraphernalia. Dispute all those if you wish, but you don't know me, so you can't.

Remember when you were wide-eyed and fresh and 21? You should have married a doctor, or maybe Sergi Brin or some other dork destined to be a billionaire. A little late for that, now, huh?

I don't even know what you mean here. I shouldn't have gone to college? I shouldn't attempt to do fun, interesting, enjoyable things with my life? I should have married young, spit out a bunch of kids and lived off someone else for my whole life? How dare you suggest that that's the end all be all of what I'm good for. Again, you don't know me.

I notice that when I got a job you didn't comment on that post. I guess there was too much honest joy in that one for you. By the way, I had been looking for literally any job I could get for several months by the time you suggested it. I'd applied at every store in the mall, Borders, WalMart, Best Buy and Target among others. I knew I needed any gig that would bring in any extra money. I'm not an idiot.

You also mentioned that I was "self-centered". Who else should I be centered on when I write this blog? There's no indication anywhere on the page that it's going to be about politics, global warming, world hunger, world peace, celebrity meltdowns or how everyone can analyze their handwriting. This blog is essentially my diary. Sorry, but that means it's about me and the people in my immediate circle.

This space is for me to look at what I do, don't do, think, don't think and the reasons behind it all. And, who else is going to have my best interest at heart 100% of the time no matter when or where I am? Me. Basically, my blog my rules. If you don't like my introspection feel free to leave my house.

Just Today...

I hit my left boob on a door, banged my left shoulder on a corner and cut my hand on a door jamb. Dammit, I'm clumsy.

Really...?

Holy crap, you guys. It's raining again! I thought we were done with this stuff for at least a month, after having it rain for the ENTIRE MONTH OF OCTOBER.

HUBS and I went to a movie showing at The St. Louis International Film Festival last night. It was at one of our antique theaters (above) with character and only one screen. We had to stand out in the cold, blustery rain for a half an hour because a director Q & A was still going on inside and the audience from the previous film was just hanging around. Angry-making! Thank God I had an umbrella and was at least wearing a sweater and jacket, but we both needed scarves and gloves and winter coats for that shit.

Also, HUBS is a wizard...

So, Um...Yeah. Not Good, Citygirl...

Eating delectable food like this for work probably isn't helping much.

I just got back from the doctor. I had really convinced myself that I was holding at 245 pounds. Unfortunately I've finally topped 250. I now weigh 253 pounds. Shit.

I'm not gonna say stuff's really going to change now. I've said that so many times in the past few years and I can just never get off my ass and do anything. Actually I don't know what I'm saying or planning or anything. I'm just disgusted with myself.

Blah.

Easter Sunday

To my absolute horror.

I hope everyone out there who celebrates Easter had a good one this year. Especially since mine kinda sucked.

I was up early, trying to get some things done before HUBS and I had to leave for the two hour trip to his folks in mid-Missouri. I could have sworn we should have some cash in our account left over from his last paycheck. I looked at our account. Not only did we not have anything left over, there wasn't enough to cover all our bills until his next pay day.

We'd be about $400 short. Having already paid some of last months bills with one of my credit cards I felt absolutely desperate and panicked. I called the only person I could think to: my mom.

I called on the pretense of only wishing her a Happy Easter, just so I could back out of asking for money if I needed to. She asked how I was and I broke down. I told her about not getting unemployment for the past 6 weeks and that we had no money to pay our bills and that we've been living off my credit cards and that we never have money for groceries. Stuff I had been avoiding telling her because I was hoping it would get better; hoping it wouldn't come to this.

PT told me it would be ok and to stop crying. She asked how much I needed and I told her. She said to calm down and come over.

I didn't feel like putting on clothes, but I knew this unplanned trip would make us late for HUBS' parents, so I did. HUBS was still in bed, I told him I was running to my mom's, kissed him quickly and left. I cried most of the way there.

PT hugged me when I got there. And, I started crying again. Shit, it was days ago now and I'm crying again thinking about the fact that I'm 34 and married and had to ask my mom for money.

She gave us far more than the 400 bucks I asked for. I protested, but took it anyway when she kept counting money out to me. PT tried to cheer me up by telling me that everybody goes through hard times and that right now this is just what I need to deal with. She also revealed that she was without a job for 2 years in the '70s. I figure this was when she was still at home with my grandmother but basically grown.

I thanked PT a lot and left about a half hour after getting there. I cried on the way home, then put a large portion of the cash in the bank.

All of this is a long way of saying that my Easter felt totally fucked. I then had to go to HUBS' family and pretend to be happy that Jesus was risen and I was with his folks, even though all I wanted to do was scream and curl up into a little ball and cry myself tired.

Do You Know Where You're Going To?

Again with Wednesdays. I have been without unemployment for three weeks and we are suffering financially. I decided to call the UE people again and see what I could do to clear this shit up so I can actually get the money in my UE account.

I was determined to stay calm. This was the first time in a long while that I got a black lady on the phone. She told me the longest part of the review program was over, so that's good. I asked who I could talk to to finally take care of this, and here's how it went:

UE black lady: No one. I'm sorry, but there's a whole process to this and there were people ahead of you. But the longest part of the review is over, so someone should call you any day now and that'll be it.

citygirl: Ok, so, you're sure I can't just talk to somebody and end this right now? I mean, I have no money and I can't find a job and we can't pay our bills. (crying now) I worked for 10 years at one place and I applied at Target and Best Buy but they won't hire me. No one will. I don't know what to do.

UE black lady: Oh honey, I understand, I like to be proactive too and take care of things any way possible as soon as possible, but there's just no way.

citygirl: (crying harder now) See, this started because when I applied for my new extension I answered one stupid question wrong and instead of listing my last full time job I listed my stupid freelance job because they were the last people to pay me. There wasn't a place for me to explain my situation. They wanted all these blanket answers...

UE black lady: Oh, yeah. That'll do it. Anytime there's different information it flags the system and then they have to go through all the reviews and it just takes as long as it takes.

citygirl: (sobbing) So, I have to wait? And, by the time they get everything cleared up I could be out of my house and on the streets. That's how this works?

UE black lady: I am so sorry, but you really can't do anything. I know it seems like we don't care, but we have a process for everything and we have to follow it. Listen, just live your life. Enjoy your family and your friends and live your life. You will be alright. Ok? I'm going to pray for you. You'll be alright.

citygirl: (sobbing and dissolving simultaneously, it's really fun - you should try it) Um (deep breath so I can keep speaking), ok. Ok. Thanks for (more deep breathing) talking to me. Bye.

UE black lady: No problem, sweetheart. Bye, now.

See? This is what I'm talking about. Even though I was crying and hurting and angry she managed to somehow make it a little bit better. This black lady should train all the other UE phone people on how to talk to the distressed unemployed, and she should get a ton of money to do it, too. She may not actually care, but she was able to make it sound like she did. Her voice was calm and clear and she never sounded irritated, rushed or frustrated with me. I love you, UE black lady.

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After our conversation I got proactive. I looked around for paid online survey companies and signed up. I made a list of places I haven't applied to that I need to look into. I called Citibank and asked for help with our currently $400+ monthly bill and they're scheduled to call me back today with a new payment plan. I vacuumed every room and the baseboards and even got up all the random cat fluff along the walls that the vacuum doesn't usually get.

I was on a roll. And then I did something stupid. Without any idea that it was going to be stupid.

More on that later.

editor's note: Why is it that when I type "black angel" into a google image search I get all the demonic, scary pictures? Why was it necessary for me to type in "african american angel"? I swear, white people kill me...