Give me half of your bitterest pill

Have you ever thought how you might describe yourself if given the opportunity? I suppose that I would consider myself to be a great sceptic (except when it comes to aliens from outerspace - those suckers are out there and fixated on their next booty probe). While this is not a very positive description of myself (talented, world changing, looks darn good in a 40's old hollywood glam get-up all seem much nicer) I have to be honest with myself.

As you may or may not know, I was interviewed by an AP reporter who tracked me down via my wide-spread and rampant tweets regarding the furlough of State of Maryland employees.

If you know me, you know I am rather opinionated, often to a fault. I have no problem risking being on the receiving end of a bullet launched from a concealed weapon if it means I can right the horrifying driving behaviors of just about every other loon on the road. It tears me to bits to hear about those that I love having to endure injustice of any sort.

When I was approached by AP reporter Ellen Simon, I of course agreed to answer some of her questions. I feel that with Maryland raising sales tax, charging us a ridiculous amount to register our vehicles every two years and yet they STILL are unable to balance the budget, I should not be held responsible. Yet I am to be forced into taking days off without pay. And I sounded off about it on twitter, which apparently caught the attention of others.

So, the article came out and had to be corrected due to the reporter naming the hospital as my employer when in fact it is a bit more complicated than that. Many who work for the hospital are not state employees. I however do something very different from many working at the hospital and am considered a State of Maryland employee. Confusing? Yes. I still don't quite know how to describe how I work there yet am a different type of employee. Of course this error caused a ruckus amongst those who worked for the hospital and were unaware that they were going to be furloughed (they aren't) and forced to take unpaid leave (they won't).

So while I was pouring over my budget and realizing that I need to pony up just under $700 per month to cover student loans lest I risk my already degenerating kneecaps to Mario and Luigi from Citibank, I got even more upset about the whole matter. It wasn't until I was in line today at Walmart that I had a few things put into perspective.

I was in line behind a very nice young woman and her adorable little 14 month old. She had a rather large order, and was going to be paying with food stamp checks. Her large order was split up (being that I don't know how food stamps work, I am assuming they only give you a certain amount per check?) and she was very apologetic over how long it was taking. Normally my sceptical self would have seen the New Balance shoes on her baby and thought "yeah right, like you really need food stamps. Maybe I should go out and get them too!". Something was different here though. This lady was very sweet and talkative and very forthcoming with information (she was a single mom and her baby's dad wanted nothing to do with him) and the more I talked with her, the more I chided myself for being such a jerk. Such a quick to jump to conclusions and read a book by it's cover jerk.

Sure I am ticked that I could possibly lose up to $800 in pay due to Maryland's inability to plan for their financial future (might Dave Ramsey be of assistance?) but what do I really lose? The occasional jaunt to H&M to buy something that most likely will sit in my closet never to be worn? The unnecessary trip to Target? (Ok, I take that back, all trips to Target are VERY necessary). I may have to budget every penny and nickel in order to make my bills? All it really takes is a bit of discipline on my part really. I don't have to worry about how I am going to feed my cherub cheeked little munchkin. I have an education and a rockin' awesome job where I can pretty much make my way anywhere. I have it pretty good.

Martin O'Malley, you aren't off the hook though. Punk.

Happy 8th Birthday to my crazy little mutt.

My dog Lucy and I have been together for nearly 8 years now. That is longer than taking every crappy relationship (which is every single one up until the meeting of Mr. Hot Pilot) and rolling them into one steaming pile of relationship dog poo.

From the beginning, Lucy has adopted a role of being my unwavering life defender, protecting me against the likes of just about every other human being that walks on this earth. She has perfected the art of rigid tooth baring and deep internal growl that would scare any evil Mormon or Jehovah's Witness into submission.

Those kids walking by the house on their way home from school? They are secretly wielding machetes and other weapons of wrath that could potentially harm her mommy.

That nice lady from down the street who waves at everyone? According to my little dog, you can't trust anyone who is that friggin happy all the time.

Lucy's junkyard dog instincts don't only convey to those outside the home. While my dad thinks Lucy is the coolest dog that has ever walked the face of the planet, and tries as hard as possible to snuggle and cuddle and offer treats that any dog would roll over in submission for - Lucy just doesn't give a crap.

While sitting in his lap, she will growl at the slightest pat on the head from him. As he is showering her with words of adoration and apple slices, she will bare her teeth, all the while snuggled right up tight to him. Some may say my dog has borderline personality disorder. The only people she will show affection and sweetness to other than her treasured mommy are her granny, Mr. Hot Pilot and Munchkin. Try to come into my room with her either guarding the door or sitting on the bed however? Don't. Even. Go. There. Just avert your eyes and run to the safety of another room.

I love my little weirdo dog with all my being. I realize that her feelings of protection for me may just border on completely insane and slightly neurotic, but she is my dog. She has been through everything with me from divorce, to cross country moving, to living with two evil roommates to moving back in with granny and grandpa and adjusting to life with two other half-wit dogs with nothing more than walks and balls on the brain. I find Lucy to be eternally patient with all of the changes in her life.

So Lucy likes to show her dominance with a friendly ankle bite here and there? So what. She and I are a package deal. And I am lucky to have found a man who understands that.

Here's to you Lucy, aka - Looty Pie Jones, Poopy-head, Floofy, Loot Loot, Looty Lou.

Happy Birthday you crazy little loon.

One way to instill humility

Growing up, my parents instilled rather strict christian moral values in my brothers and I. I would like to think that I still hold most of these morals near and dear my heart, but look folks I am nearly 28. I have been married before. (Gasp! I know! Worse than my decision to buy a second blue Dodge Neon!) I had put a couple of not so great relationships under my belt before I met the more-awesome-than-he-lets-on Mr. Hot Pilot and my world was once again turned upright.

Now Mr. Hot Pilot and I share the same christian values and enjoy doing things the right way in order to ensure that we don't fall into the same craptacular rat hole that we both ended up in with our first marriages - i.e - he with the world's craziest blonde chick and I with the world's least self motivated guy. Let me tell you, he and I would forgo a rockin' honeymoon if it meant eternal peace, sunshine and not the slightest chance of a mental breakdown.

So I didn't think much of it the other day while I was at my annual chick appointment and my doc asked if it was ok for her to leave a message on my machine regarding my results. Of course I didn't care, and I went on my merry way.

Imagine my shock and surprise when I was sitting at the computer the other night and my mother went to play the messages in the voicemail, and I heard the cheery voice of my doc. "Hi there, just wanted to let you know everything is negative, and your pregnancy test was negative. Hope you have a great day!".

I began yelling "Oh my God! I know I'm not pregnant for crying out loud! It was just routine! Oh God! I already know I'm not because I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!!".

Funny how even at 27 one phone call from the doc can entice such a feeling of utter humiliation.

In search of answers

Today instead of the normal crap that I might normally post, I have decided to use my blog as a vessel of sorts to try and bring to light an absolutely horrific crime that occurred here in Maryland over the past weekend.

Working where I work we often see very tragic stories unfold whether it be domestic violence, assault, gang violence or motor vehicle crashes. I work in research so our only chance to actually get to know a patient is if they happen to be enrolled in one of our many studies. Because of the nature of my work, I see each and every case that comes through the double doors to ascertain whether or not someone could potentially fit into one of our studies and help others later down the road.

I still remember my first week on the job and getting the opportunity to assist with administering chest compressions on a patient who was in arrest. I remember looking into their eyes and not seeing life. I remember looking at their arms all bruised and hooked up to I.V's. I also remember when they passed away and how deeply it affected me.

I came to learn to try and distance myself somewhat from the cases as some of them were just too tragic to comprehend. In just a few months I understood that hardened edge that many that have worked in the trauma resuscitation unit have come to adopt as their coping mechanism. It wasn't until Saturday that I was jarred back into reality and truly felt a sense of sorrow and a sense of wanting to be able to comprehend something so horrific and tragic as what happened to this young girl:

"Baltimore County police yesterday said they do not know why an unknown man walked up behind a woman in line at a Catonsville liquor store and slit her throat in a fatal attack Saturday afternoon.

The victim was identified as Aysha Dawn Ring, 24, of the first block of Chadnor Court, which is in a town house development west of Security Square Mall.

About 4 p.m., Ring was waiting at the cash register inside Charing Cross Liquors, in the 5200 block of Baltimore National Pike, when a man approached her from behind, police said.

The man grabbed her and cut her neck with an edged instrument, possibly a knife, and then turned and fled from the store, police said."
(See entire story here, thanks to the Baltimore Sun who sent me their link)

To see this happen to such a young person is gut wrenching. To know that there are people out there who love her and at that moment most likely had no idea what had just happened to her was heart wrenching. To think that this act could be completely random is thouroughly bone chilling and horrifying.

I am hoping that someone will come forward with information. Any information. I am hoping that those of you living in Maryland might be able to pass this along to friends and family members in hopes of finding SOMEONE who knows who did this. Any information is useful information.

If you know ANYTHING, please call county police at 410-307-2020.

Got run over by a train and all I got was this dumb plastic leg full of cash

Ah yes, Monday. The only good thing about Monday's for me now is that they are like a typical working schmuck's Saturday complete with insane amounts of sleeping in and early afternoon news watching. No matter what time I wake up, I nearly always turn to my blackberry for the latest on what has happened in the world while I slept (for 10 hours). Today was no different. There were two special news stories that I would be a jerk not to share with you.

Man Robs Credit Union, Puts Cash in Prosthetic Leg

"Authorities on Florida's east coast have arrested a man in a wheelchair who they say robbed a credit union on Merritt Island and hid the money in his prosthetic leg.

Brevard County deputies say 45-year-old Christopher Warren Reed was caught Friday afternoon about 10 minutes after they say he robbed Space Coast Credit Union. Reed is a paraplegic who uses a motorized wheelchair.
Investigators say he came into the credit union about 4 p.m., told a teller he was armed with an explosive and demanded money. He left with an undisclosed amount of cash.

Reed told deputies that two people had threatened him with a gun, told him to commit the robbery and were going to take the money for themselves. He was charged with robbery, grand theft, threatening to use a hoax explosive device and aggravated assault."

The best parts of this story besides the ingenious use of a plastic limb? That there is actually a bank named "Space Coast Credit Union" and that he tried the old "they threatened me knowing about my kick ass leg and so I robbed a bank for them" routine.

Classic.

Now I must ask one question. This man is a paraplegic right? So this means any limbs he might have he can't use right? So why in the world did he need a fake limb? Was it just to fill out his hot new pair of Wranglers or something?

My next story hails from the super-genius state of Alabama.

Alabama Man Survives Being Run Over by Eight Train Cars

Apparently this lovely 61 year old man decided to soak up the Alabama sunshine by laying his body over the train tracks. Because that is just the perfect spot don't you think? Little did he know that real live trains actually run on them there tracks. Who'd of thunk it?

My favorite part of the whole story was this line :

"Its unclear why Romine was lying on the tracks."

Financial Security is for Losers

So only a few more weeks until it is officially December, the biggest sucker-of-cash month of the entire year. It's not that I have anything against December really - ok maybe I do.

This December will become one of the biggest money and self-esteem guzzlers of my life thus far. You see not so long ago (6 months to be exact) I finally graduated college, a feat 10 years in the making. Of course I had loans I had begun taking out for my education dating back to 2000, but I rarely thought much about them. Instead during all of those years that I lolly-gagged my way through school I would take out the maximum allowable for each semester and view that extra $2000 a semester as "money to live on". And by "money to live on" I mean money to blow on useless crap like clothing that is now sitting somewhere in a Goodwill bin, haircolor and cuts that are long gone, sushi dinners out with friends (including the Saki) and of course there was that really dumb move of paying off a credit card for an ex-boyfriend who claimed it "made more sense" to kill his own debt instead of mine.

Stupidity.

Obviously I was in dire need of a degree not in Health Science and Education but in 'How to spot a sketchy character in 2 minutes or less'. (In his defense, I was able to get my money back from that ex-loser boyfriend after months of nagging.)

What am I left with besides a brand spankin' new Bachelor of Science degree that is proudly hung on my bedroom wall? I am left with a student loan debt of around $50,000. Before you lose yourself in a state of shock and awe, I must remind you that there are plenty of folks out there in a much worse off situation than myself. For instance I always make myself feel better about the whole situation by eating a bowl of chocolate peanut butter ice cream and ruminating over the fact that my brother went to a college costing $31,000 per YEAR.

Because chocolate peanut butter makes everything better.

This fabulous chunk of educational debt will begin withdrawing funds from my miniscule bank account on December 7th. As in next month. As in instead of saving up for christmas, I will be saving up to keep Mario and Luigi from Citibank from hacking away at my kneecaps. Oh yeah, and I turn 28 at the end of the month. Hoo-frickin-ray.

I have decided to really take hold of my financial standing while I am able to and before it really gets away from me and rides off into the sunset on a train called Financial Disaster.

I had started listening to Dave Ramsey on AM radio while driving the 3 hours from San Antonio to Del Rio because otherwise all there was to listen to was Mexican talk radio. No choice really, I was a captive audience. But I really like the guy and he really has some sound financial advice. And he is hard hitting, which is what a numbskull like myself needs. A little financial violence never hurt anyone. (Unless you are being taken out Soprano style for failing to pay your gambling debt - then you are just dumb)

So I decided to go ahead and sign on to his Total Money Makeover Plan and set up a budget and a means to pay off my student loan debt ASAP. In all reality I am not that bad off. I don't have to pay rent or utilities, my car is nearly paid for, I only have one credit card to pay off and after earning my degree I got a job earning $10,000 more per year than I had been. But for some reason or another Target would call to me and I would make my way over to buy useless crap that I didn't need. Like these dog costumes for the christmas holiday.


(Oh don't give me that 'aww, poor little innocent doggies' crap. Trust me. They love this stuff. Plus, they got a bone for their modelling efforts.) So hopefully I will be able to report back to you in a month that I have finally reigned in the useless spending and have set myself on the path of financial security. We shall see.

Birthday probe

Nearly one month ago was my mom's 2nd 26th birthday. As usual there was dining out, gifts and cards to be enjoyed by her. When you have had to raise three awesome and crazy kids and one husband who needs to be raised right along with them, you pretty much deserve an awesome birthday each year.

My mom's health insurance company thought so too.

I came downstairs this morning to find a "happy birthday" of sorts sitting on the kitchen counter from Kaiser Permanente. I saw the words "Happy birthday" and "birthday month" which of course made me think "wow, what a cool insurance company". Then I saw the true reason for the festive correspondence.

TIME TO SCHEDULE YOUR COLONOSCOPY.

Wow. What a way to poop on your birthday month. What a way to ruin all the joy and festivities you enjoyed.

I had toyed around with scanning the document in and posting it here since it really would have made your day, however there is this little federal law called HIPAA which tends to ruin fun things like leakage of personal protected health information. Whatever.

I then thought back to other fun things that have happened on peoples birthdays. Including my last birthday.

It was the first birthday I had spent with Mr. Hot Pilot and Munchkin. I was down in Texas enjoying what seemed to be a somewhat normal afternoon. Normal that is until Munchkin decided it was time for his daily constitutional, and by constitutional I mean losing half his body weight down a plumbing-challenged toilet. I heard the multiple flushes but didn't really think anything of it. It wasn't until I heard the little voice calling "Daddy? I need help..." that I thought maybe something might be up.

Then I heard Mr. Hot Pilot yell as though he saw a poop monster half eating our little Munchkin.

I stayed put. I'm no dummy.

Apparently my sitting perfectly still on the couch, not so much as BREATHING didn't do much for hiding myself. I should have jumped in the car and headed to Wal-Mart (no where else to run to really). Mr. Hot Pilot promptly sent Munchkin to his room and asked me if I might come and assist him in cleaning up a mess. A poop mess. (There seems to be a theme of poop going on here in my posts...I should look into that).

I walked into the main bathroom and there before me was a sea of toilet water flowing into the tub room, around the bend into the master bathroom and directly into the master bedroom. Sweet. Mr. Hot Pilot then proceeded to pull every towel, blanket and comforter out of rooms and closets to sop up the mess. I sort of stood there for a second and did the only thing I could possibly do.

I laughed my birthday booty off. Seriously, grow up in my family and anything having to do with a bodily function will elicit that exact reaction.

For the next hour or so we mopped and sopped while Munchkin was keeping watch of things from underneath his bedroom door. Every so often I'd see part of a Transformer or a little 6 year old finger poke out below as if to remind us he was still in captivity.

Finally we called maintenance to come in with an industrial poop sucker-upper (aka- a wet/dry vac) and pretty soon all was well. Munchkin was sprung from his prison and I was left with the question by Mr. Hot Pilot

"So what are you making us for dinner tonight?".

Happy birthday.

Everyone loves a free ride

So tomorrow is the big day for many...election day! While I am both nervous and excited (seems to be the way I feel about alot of things recently) about what the outcome might be, at least I can take a trip around town and collect some lovely freebies before I am taxed to the point of having to find a comfortable refrigerator box to live in on the streets of Baltimore.

Here are a few of the awesome places trying to sweeten the deal on voting :

Come into any Starbucks on November 4th and let your fabulous barista know that you voted (for McCain) and they will "proudly serve you a tall cup of coffee...on them". Not into coffee? Well then I'm fairly sure you must be into doughnuts right? Lucky for you, you can instead head on over to Krispy Kreme!
Be sure to don your "I voted" (for McCain) sticker in a visible area (your forehead should suffice) and at participating locations (re - the one you have to drive furthest to) will give you a free doughnut. So now you have your free coffee and doughnut...but what about dessert? Well just head your fine self over to Ben and Jerrys between 5pm and 8pm and you will receive a free scoop of ice cream. I of course would suggest something of the chocolate and peanut butter variety, but of course this is a democracy (or at least will be unless Obama sucker punches his way into the oval office) and you can choose what you prefer. Of course my favorite is the free Chick-fil-a sandwich for voting. If your local restaurant is participating, head on over to pick up a free original chicken sandwich on November 4th. Again, be sure to wear that spiffy sticker you get for voting (for McCain).


I do hope you all get up bright and early and go vote. No matter who you vote for - the dude who will pick your pockets dry or the dude who will protect our military - it is one of the most important things we can do as Americans.

Note to self...(Part I)

Do you have cartoon music playing in your head too? -Mike


Do you ever feel like you wish you could go back in time and tell your younger self all of the wonderful and terrible things you have learned over the years? I was thinking the other day about all that has happened over the past 8 or 9 years, and all of the things I would love to tell my younger self. If I were to write myself a letter, it would be something like this:

Dear young Chica,

So much has happened over the past 10 years, and I feel it is my duty to give you a heads up and forewarning. Now not everything is terrible, but believe me, you are going to learn some serious life lessons. Hope you are ready!

First, lets talk about your weight. Honey, if you only knew how awesome you looked, you wouldn't spend 75% of your time obsessing over every little thing you put in your mouth. What's the point in being thin if you can't enjoy it? And trust me, guys tend to like their women with a bit more of a figure (re - not looking like a 12 year old boy) than they do skeletons. I know you know things have been happening to your body that are big fat red flags to tell you what you are doing isn't healthy. I know you want children someday, and what you are doing right now isn't they way to ensure you are ready and able someday. Kudos on the working out, but let yourself EAT! Enjoy yourself while you are young and gorgeous! And oh, by the way? You ARE gorgeous. I know you don't think so, but someday you will understand. Don't be so focused on what other people think of you. Learn to love yourself, like yourself, and enjoy spending time with yourself.

Remember when you were a Freshman in high school and you made the comment "I think I'm too immature to be involved with/date anyone?". You hit the nail right on the head. Don't be so concerned with having a boyfriend or wanting guys to like you. Believe me, they do. You know those three girls who you consider your best friends in the whole world? They truly are the best friends you could ever have. No one gets you like they do. No one has the same crazy sense of humor (who can forget the Beck and Foot stories? or the crazy letters you sent to your former marching band mates anonymously? HIGH-larious!) Don't screw it up. Keep it up and you are bound to make a huge mistake in your love life (and with your friends)....

Yeah...speaking of huge mistakes in the dating realm. Where to begin? You should have stayed single until you met Mr. Hot Pilot (more on him later). That New Year's eve party you went to with your girlfriends? Probably should have stayed home and watched Dick Clark's rockin' eve with your parents. Instead you met your first "bad idea" boyfriend. Mike. Wasn't his drinking enough of a tip off for you to stay away? But you are young I guess, and those things seem so grown up and glamorous. News Flash : They aren't. (Just wait till you see what drinking does to a person later on in life when you work in a trauma center). And then you drove his drunk butt home. Seriously. Do we need to go back a few paragraphs and remind you how awesome you are and that you are worth more? Geez louise... So instead you date this guy, and he is your first kiss. At 18. Not bad I suppose (that you waited until you were 18, not that it was him of course)

You were too naive to see what might be happening when he kept bringing you flowers for no apparent reason. Oh you found out alright. That night you were supposed to go with a group of friends for dinner and movie. And he had to pull you aside to clear his conscience and tell you he slept with some random girl. Instead of doing the "worth-it" girl routine, you tried to stick around to see what might happen. And it happened again. So you finally dumped him.

But something about that first serious relationship did something to you. Instead of realizing it had nothing to do with you and your awesomeness, you somehow beat yourself up. You wanted some sense of stability, and to know you could have a normal relationship. So you started dating a friend, whom we shall call "Ed". Ed seemed cool and all...seemed like he was a romantic and artistic type. But in reality he had no drive and ambition. He couldn't even get past community college. But you married him anyway. Yep. You married him. Then you moved to Florida, far, far away from your family and friends who loved you. And suddenly Ed changed. Ed wanted a life separate from you. He told you he had enough friends already and that you were "just his wife". You went through serious financial hardships. Finally you scrimped and saved every last penny to get you both out of there and back home to Maryland again. Do you notice a trend here? YOU are the one doing all the fighting for this relationship, for your home, for your finances.

Guess we will have to see what happens later on....Part II later on.

Nobama 2008!

"Oh, so radioactive immediately equals bad to you?" - Crow




(source : http://www.passiveaggressivenotes.com/page/10/)