Random Ramblings

• I'm starving. Funny, because my crazy pills have curtailed my appetite, so I only eat when I can feel my guts eating themselves out.
• Consequently, even though my ass is expanding, I am losing a teeny bit of weight. 2.5 pounds to be exact.
• The love of my life is driving me crazy with his laissez-fair, Bob Marley-ish, everything is going to be alright attitude. I need him to put on his big boy pants and help me a little more.
• My teeny scar is right where the elastic from my panty hits, and it itches. Yeah, try to scratch it without looking like a perve.
• I'm soooooo tired. I got a part-time job answering phones from 11.30-12.30 at night, and even though it's a piece of cake and it pays $30/night, I get home around one in the manana.
• I want to buy myself some leggings at Forever 21 and the boyfriend blazer featured on Budget Babe.
• But I won't because I'm trying to reign it in.
• Unless I lose my mind, and let me tell you I'm seriously on the verge.
• But let's hope it doesn't come to that.
• Tomorrow, hopefully sunny day by the pool.

The End.

Did You Hear That?

That was the sound of the other shoe dropping.

Hmmmf.

Remember when I was soooooo happy? Yeah, that must've been a surgery high because that didn't last too long.

Why, you may ask?

Well, let me tell you.

Last week, we noticed that our refrigerator was not refrigerating. We tried everything. Moving the temperature controls, scraping the block of ice that had formed on the back wall of the freezer, pulling the refrigerator from the wall, unplugging it and cleaning out the coils, but nothing. Nada, zero, zip. No refrigeration.

So, duh, we had to call a repairman. At first, I tried to ask around, but apparently, word of mouth was not going to help me find a guy, because NOBODY knew of anyone.

Bleh.

And, I was seriously getting pissed at my little love muffin. BECAUSE HE'S THE BOY! That's his job! Cars, lawn, and appliances. That's all I ask of him. But he was like, "Hmmm, well, it seems colder, um I don't know, maybe I'll find someone" blah, blah, blah. Um, maybe? Hello! Refrigeration is a necessity! We're not Pilgrims anymore.

Sheesh.

This whole business reminded me of the time I came hope AND SNOOPY HAD EATEN THE TIP OF HIS TAIL! Yes. THE TIP OF HIS TAIL! I called J all hysterial and bajiggity, and do you know what he said? He said, "Just spray him with the flea spray." WHAT? My dog ate the tip of his tail! We need to take him to the vet! J only took him because I'd told him I would take Snoopy myself. And guess what? Snoopy had fleas so bad, the poor baby had to have his tail amputated. Can you believe my better half? What would've happened if I would've just said, "Oh, he ate the tip of his tail. Let me just spray him."

I love J, but sometimes I just want to bang my head bloody.

Anyhoodle. Back to the refrigerator.

I called someone from the Yellow Pages, and thankfully they were able to come out today.

And $275 smackaroonies later, we have refrigeration.

Yes. $275. Like my friend CG said, "Do you know how many clothes you could've bought at Forever 21?"

No, CG. I didn't. BUT I DO NOW. :(

Crappity, crappola.

Want Some Candy, Little Girl?

No? Umm. Okay, then. Mosey along. Nothing to see here.

This is my little dog Snoopy. OMG, I love him. He's such a good dog. As evidenced by the babushka and glasses.

Things I'm Hearting....

but don't currently own. Or, um, forsee owning in the near future. :)


How cute are these Gap peep-toe flats? Too cute, right? I have a couple of pairs of Gap flats, and let me just say, the Gap's first forray into the shoe world was a mixed bag. Super cute flats, but super uncomfortable. They were like a prison for you toes. It was like they were made of cardboard. But now, they've wised up and put in some super comfy insoles. Plus, since they're peep-toes, they won't hurt your toes. Bonus!
This color is magically delicious. How sad am I that I am now on a budget, and having fully paid off my Gap card cannot buy this skirt with either cash or credit? So. Sad. It's just such a summery color! And even though I don't look good in coral, since the color is on the bottom, it's a perfect compromise!
Oh. My. Word. Do you know that I got in trouble one year for wearing tan courdoroys to work? I got called into the principal's office and everything. Talk about wanting the earth to swallow me whole. Have I mentioned that I'm a goody-goody and hate getting in trouble? Seriously, it took me six months to get over the whole situation. The funny thing is, I'd worn those pants for a month straight the previous year, and I'd never heard a peep.


But these? I love, love, love the color. Perfect spank of color for any outfit. Old Navy, size 6 (I hope I'm still this size). Buy them for me.

If you know me, you know I'm not big on the whole fall/winter deal. I have a pathological aversion to the cold and everything that comes with it -sweaters, turtlenecks (I have a short neck and I always feel like -turtle, turtle!), thick socks, blah, blah, blah.

But I so heart this jacket. Last year I saw a bunch of these jackets. Forever 21, Victoria's Secret Pink, you name it. But for some reason, I'd never bought one. But now they're back! And this one's my favorite!

La, la, la... The end. :)

Alternatives to Branding Myself For Life

So last week I had mentioned how I had really wanted to get a tattoo on my wrist that said, "Trust in the Lord, always." And I had also detailed my family's visceral reaction upon finding out said ruminations and their absolute poo on the idea.

I mean, the day of my surgery, my mom broke down and said, "Ay, Smart Cookie, that's so LONG, I mean, if you want a reminder, why don't you just tattoo the initials? Hmmmm. What would that be? T. I. T. L., and A. Right? How about that?"

My response, "Seriously, mom? You don't want me to get a tattoo that says, 'Trust in the Lord, always, but TITLA? TITLA, is okay? No."

Anyhoodle, in between bedrest and reading and America's Next Top Model marathons, I've been searching online for some suitable alternatives to getting a tattoo.

My favorite kind of jewelry is bracelets. I love necklaces and earrings, too, but sometimes I'd just rather wear my everyday cross and studs than change 'em up. But, bracelets? Oh, I heart you.

So looky here:

These are my three choices. I'm partial to the one in the middle, because let's face it, it's the most Smart Cookie-ish, but I also like the other two. I have a teacher bracelet that's similar to the one on the top, and the black one I threw in because I thought the black and pink was a really cute combo.

So what do you think? Leave me some love and let me know.

Random-ity Rambles

Today was the first day I ventured out since my surgery on Tuesday.

I only went to Forever 21. I hadn't been to the mall in three weeks. We've been on a pretty strict budget, but I gave myself permission to buy myself a post-op present. So I bought myself this:
I had seen it a couple of months ago, but they'd only had it in a large. Boo. Hoo. So I was super happy when I found it today. It fits really cute. Love. Love. Love.

I also loved this dress, but it was so short. Too short. Like, don't even breathe too deeply because people are going to see your panties when you make the slightest motion. Too bad for me, but really good for our budget.


I love this website. I would wear almost every dress on this site.

How cute is this? I would totally wear it. At $69.99, it's too pricey for me, but I love the fact that you can dress it up or down.

I came up with this idea two years ago when my nana was in the hospital, and everyone laughed. My mamacita told me it would be too messy. But look! Someone's making money!

This morning, I was flipping through the Bible, and I randomly stumbled upon these stories. I read this Bible story and this one. What is God trying to tell me? Financial security and a baby. I believe it and I receive it. :)

I'm almost scared to say it because the pessimist in me is worried about the other shoe dropping, but lately I've been feeling happy. Happy. Happy. Happy. Thank you, Jesus.

Is It Supposed to Feel Like I'm Peeing Hot Magma?

Surgery Recap:

I don't think this pill is going to work.
So I had my surgery on Tuesday, and as y'all know, I've been worrying about it for weeks, and that worrying hit a feverish pitch on Tuesday morning. Surgery was originally scheduled for 7:30 a.m., but I was called on Monday and told that it was pushed back until 11:30, which bothered me to no end, because duh, in my makes no sense brain, by 11:30, I would've already been done with surgery so pushing it back was interfering with the space/time continuum.

Plus, even though I was allowed to take my anxiety pill, I was anxious as all get out (hello? tube down my throat), and I had an argument with J before my mom picked me up, which ended with me snappily snipping, "I love you, bye!" Not the way I wanted to go into surgery. But, hello? I was nervous. Why was he antagonizing me? Why? For the love of all that's good and holy, why?

There's a hose that warms your butt while you wait.
I was admitted at about a quarter to ten. I had to change into a dressing gown and pull my hair back into a sexy little shower cap. This, plus my glasses and no make-up, obviously made me irresistible. Hospital chic, if you will. Because the facility is chilly, they've got these super cool hoses that you can put in a small hole in your gown and warm your butt! Or, um, the rest of your body if you so choose.

In the twenty years I've been doing this, it's never happened, and I don't expect you to be the first.

Mmmmmkay? My anesthesiologist's reaction when I asked him if he was sure, really, really sure, that I wouldn't wake up during the procedure.

Can you sign here, please? Things That Can Go Wrong -infertility, punctured lung, punctured bladder, blah, blah, blah.
WTF? Yeah, I signed it, but not before telling the nurse, "I'm going to be really pissed if this procedure makes me infertile. Just so you know. I'm here to work on getting a baby."

Oh. My. Word. I'm over it. Just roll me in.
I didn't go into surgery until 12:15, and by then I was soooo ready. It was like, just cut me up and get it taken care of, I don't even care if I'm awake.

What? It's over already?
All I remember is being rolled in and seeing all the white lights and hearing the music on the stereo and thinking how very Nip/Tuck it all was. Then I remember the IV feeling all boily in my hand, and when I said something I could taste the anesthesia in my mouth. And then I woke up all groggy and it was over.

Lava from my loins.
Once I woke up, the nurse asked if I needed to go to the bathroom. I was super surprised that it was really hard for me to walk, and I was super shocked when I peed and it felt like I was peeing hot magma. Did I sign up for a urinary tract infection? Apparently, it was just the catheter they had inserted to empty my bladder. Fun times.

My vagina is on vacation.
And other things I can't do. Bedrest for a few day. No exercise, sex, tampons (yeah, right), pool, beach or jacuzzi. The pool part is the only part that made me sad. I love the pool. I like the sex, too, don't get me wrong, but -doctor's orders!

Feeling good, feeling fine.
I felt awesome after surgery and had very little pain. The only side effect was the pain in my shoulders and chest every time I stood up, but that subsided after the first day.

My belly buton is taped up, that's where the doctor went in to check my tubes, and the tape will fall off by itself. I usually sleep on my belly, so on the first night I slept on my back because I was scared the tape would fall off and my guts would fall out. Drama, much?

I also have a cut a couple of inches below my belly button and above my baby hole, where the doctor went in to take out the polyp in my uterine cavity.

So far, everything is good. And I'm so grateful to my family and friends for their love, prayers, and well wishes.

Hope springs eternal.
I didn't speak to the doctor after surgery, because duh, I was incoherent, but he did speak to my mamacita. He took the polyp out and found that I did have some endometriosis, even though I never had any symptoms. And he cleaned up my girly parts.

So here's my wish. To the universe and to God. I would love to have a baby. And I hope this helps.

I Knew I Had Good Taste

Do you guys read this website? I love it. Imagine my surprise when I found a link illustrating six different ways to wear this dress -that I'd worn just this week!

I wore this dress to a fashion show at the Liv nightclub in the Fountainbleau hotel. This is the hotel that hosted the Victoria's Secret fashion show last year. And it is way too posh for me. I had no idea that it was so fancy. I felt like a square peg. Like I could start singing that Sesame Street song, "One of these thing just doesn't belong here. One of these things just isn't the same."

My sister's boyfriend's sister is working as an intern for Miami magazine, and she got us on the guest list. Anyhoodle, I was excited about going. Because trust me, it's one of those clubs that I would have never been able to get into on my own. My cousin K said she and a couple of girlfriends came to club one night, "dressed to the t" and that they wouldn't let them in unless they each paid $100 cover charge.

I had no idea it was going to be held in a club. I thought the fashion show was going to be outside by the pool, so I did wish I'd just worn black and dressed a little fancier. Like pretty much everyone else. This dress is a little casual, and I hate being under dressed.

But, even though I got a lot of compliments on my dress (from my cousins), I felt that it made me look VERY THICK in the thigh and butt area. I'm thinking before I wear it again, I should take in the seams on the sides so that it's not so flowy and more straight line-y.

What do you think?

P.S. I finally got a chance to wear my new shoes.

Finding Winn-Dixie

Today, J and I went grocery shopping. It was inevitable. We couldn't put it off any longer (I hate grocery shopping -especially with J. That boy likes to look at everything and he can stand in front of an item debating the cost forever.) because our refrigerator looked like this:

FYI: The milk had gone bad, J had drank all the coke (he likes to leave a smidge at the bottom because he hates throwing out the bottle), the big bag of frosted flakes is from J's job, and the other big bag is stuffed with sugar cookies and chocolate chip cookies that one of J's accounts had given him yesterday (hence my tweets about sugar headaches resulting from an overindulgence in sugar cookies. Seven sugar cookies to be exact). Everything else? Condiments.

We usually shop at Publix, but my friend A had mentioned that Winn-Dixie was less expensive and had better deals, especially if you had a Winn-Dixie card, which is a little black card that enables you to get -duh, even better deals. We weren't able to get the card because the manager said he ran out of applications. But he kindly kept a card on hand for occasions like this.

So on our way to the store, I issued a challenge. The challenge was to keep our bill at $50. $75 including dog food. I'd read somewhere that for people on a budget, a good number to keep on hand for groceries was $100/person per month. That would be $200 smackaroonies a month.

Okay. So that didn't happen. We spent $119, including the dog food. When I looked at J, he just said,

"Babe, you didn't really think that we could spend $50. Are you crazy? We had nothing. Anyway, just think of it this way, we bought enough stuff to last two weeks! Plus, that includes the dog food, and your champagne and orange juice for your brunch tomorrow. I think we did really well."

And we did get some good deals. Pork chops were two for one -and the BEST deal was a 30 pound bag of dog food that retails for $30, but was on sale for $15! Yowza!

But. But of course, because it's J and me. We did have a little Charlie Brown moment. When I unloaded the groceries, I couldn't find the tuna, Coke, or spaghetti sauce (two for $5 and we eat pasta all the time). Turns out, when I was putting our groceries on the belt, there wasn't enough room, so I put some stuff on the little ledge. And that's where my stuff stayed. Boo. Hoo.

Anyhoodle, here's my fridge:

I still have to go to Publix to get some stuff tomorrow. I didn't like the deli meat at Winn-Dixie so I've got to get some sliced turkey and cheese. Plus the Coke and tuna that I'd left behind.

But the hardest part is over. No need to worry about me, cookies. We're fully loaded!

I Don't Like to Buy Anything I Can't Return...

which is why despite the fact that I want a tattoo, I'm too much of a scared-y cat to actually get one.

Y'all know about my financial sad-face (which is not really super sad-face, I'm in no immediate danger of living under a bridge with nothing to keep me warm but all my clothes, some with the tags still on them).

Anyhoodle, besides my crazy pills, something that's been making me feel like not stabbing myself with a fork is this Bible verse:

You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in You; Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord, the Lord is the rock eternal.
Isaiah 26:3 (I'm pretty sure)

Whenever I feel like jumping out of my skin or screaming at the top of my lungs or laying in the fetal position crying big, salty tears, I just recite this to myself, over and over and over (like a mental patient, you might say) until I feel better. And inevitably, I do.

So last night I made the mistake of watching L.A. Ink, which I never do, and I was kinda inspired by people and their tattoos and what their tattoos mean to them.

And I started thinking. I would love to get a tattoo on the inside of my wrist that says:

Trust in the Lord

always

My friend Nae Nae (love you, sister) even said she'd go with me.

I even wrote it in pen on my wrist, just to see what it would look like. And I kinda liked it.

But.

But J and everyone in my family hates the idea. They think tattoos are "skanky", "slutty", and "hoochie". Cookies, if you have tattoos please do not get all up in arms, this is a very Cuban way of thinking. And even though J's not Cuban, his argument is,

"You've gone 33 years (just like Jesus!) without marking your body -why do it
now?"

Yeah, this from the guy who wanted a flaming baseball on his bicep but it was too expensive, so now he has what looks like Mr. Peanut on his bicep because that's all he could afford.

Anyhoodle, like I said, I wrote it on my left wrist. And I asked my brother about it. He wasn't liking the idea not one little bit.

SC: So. I'm thinking about getting a tattoo. What do you think?

SCB: Um.... NO! You crazy?

SC: No, I just think I want one.

SCB: Nuh-uh.

SC: It would be small.

SCB: Yeah? And where would you get it? I hope not on your ankle or something. Maybe somewhere private where only you could see it. Or you could only see it if you were in a bathing suit or something. As long as you couldn't see it when you were, you know, wearing clothes.

SC: It would be tasteful. It wouldn't be a Snoopy or a Betty Boop or something stupid like that with no meaning.

SCB: (Snorts) Yeah, I've seen lots of tasteful tattoos.

SC: How about my wrist? Look. It doesn't look bad! I wrote it in pen.

SCB: Oh, yeah? Well how about this? Just keep writing it in pen -don't get a fucking tattoo.

The End.

Deep sigh.

Confessions of a Drama Queen

Cookies, please forgive me for terrifying you with my last post. My intention was not to strike fear in your ever-loving hearts that I was slowly wasting away with only a caramel apple empanada to fill my starving, distended belly. :)

We are just on a budget. And we are sticking to it come hell or highwater. And the way J's paychecks fall this month just make the beginning of the month more challenging. Plus, stupid cookie over here decided to pay some bills early and miscalculated the amount of smackaroonies we would need to have this week. Yes, I do teach the future of America.

But we get paid tomorrow, so you can all breathe a sigh of relief.

Thanks for the love.

xoxo

Fabulously Broke

Minus the fabulous.

This is how empty my refrigerator is, I am actually giving the dogs frosted flakes (the generic brand from J's company) as treats (OMG and they LOVE it, they've scratched my legs, jumping and clawing at the bag)and as incentive to get into their cages because I ran out of treats and have $1 to my name until tomorrow. I actually had $2, but last night I got the late night munchies and went to Taco Bell at 12:15 a.m. to get a caramel apple empanada, which I ate while driving back to the house.

We have been eating everything in our cupboards, and I have been taking food from my mom's house, with her permission of course.

I'm so glad tomorrow is payday.

Miami Social = WTF Am I Doing With My Life

Oh. My. Word.

So Bravo has this new program called Miami Social, which started tonight. Critics panned it so I watched it without any expectations, but. It. Is. Awesome.

The only downside? I live in Miami, and my life is not one gazillionth as flashy, fascinating, exciting, or as anything as this.

Here is a sample of a day in the life of Smart Cookie:

Today I went to work, came home, took a nap, ate a slice of toast with peanut butter (not because I'm starving myself, I inhaled a huge piece of cake at my mom's house), and watched TV.

That's it.

I didn't do lunch. I didn't work out. I didn't go to the spa. I didn't go out to a fancy hotel for drinks. I didn't do nothing but live my suburban life. Nothing.

Deep sigh.

Laying in My Own Filfth

Today I have done nothing but lounge in my bed, watching a Law & Order SVU marathon and surfing the internet.

And can I tell you a really gross and disgusting secret?

I haven't even brushed my teeth! Blech! Dirty girl!

I just haven't had the desire to do anything. And I totally should have because not having anything to do causes my mind to wander and dwell on stuff that it shouldn't and therefore heightens my anxiety. Boo! Hiss!

All I need is a couple of cats and piles of newspapers stacked around my bed and I'm one step away from the looney bin.

Deep sigh.

Tomorrow, a shower and then work. If I'm very ambitious, a workout.

But today? Dirty girl it is.

I Love Infomercials!

I know it's probably not cool to admit this, but I LURVE me some infomercials. I've watched the PX90 commercial a zillion times. My cousin C and her boyfriend are actually doing the program. I'm sad that she will be thin and even more beautiful, but lately I have no desire to exercise, so I don't even have the will to care.


Anyhoodle, today as I'm flipping through the channels, I stumbled upon this little gem. How awesome does this look? Not only does it help improve your posture, but it also lifts your boobs and makes them look like luscious melons! As someone with tiny boobies, this is a MIRACLE!


Because of my new frugal state of mind, I'm not going to buy it (boo! hiss!), but a girl can dream.

Feeling Good

SC: Bub, you're driving me CRAZY!

J: Well, that's why you're taking those crazy pills!

Oh, my little love muffin. Just because I'm taking my crazy pills doesn't mean that you should take advantage of any and every opportunity to make me crazy-er.

I started taking my crazy pills on Wednesday. I have to take them with breakfast, and so far the only side effects are some mild drowsiness and a teensy loss of appetite. I say teensy because I feel like the birth-control pills (which I stop taking today, thank God -yesterday I felt like my eggs were trying to kickbox their way out of my ovaries) which I have to take because of my upcoming surgery (to check my fallopian tubes to determine whether or not I have endometriosis and to remove a polyp from my uterine cavity. Don't the words uterine cavity gross you out? I hate saying them) have really increased my appetite.

Anyway. I'm feeling good. Maybe not this good. But pretty good, nontheless.I know that some of it is has to do with just knowing that I'm taking these pills. It makes me feel better because it feels like I'm attempting to do something about my situation. Because according to the doctor, it'll take about 3-4 weeks before I really start feeling better.

And the other part is that this whole craptastic extravaganza has caused me to redirect my focus toward my faith. And that my cookies, that has provided an overwhelming sense of peace and calm.

Like when my aunt turned down the perfect job (7.5 hours = $150/week) and told the people I was interested (which would've helped us out so much and would have ended my search for a part-time job), but then changed her mind and told me she was sorry to be an indian giver and took the job back. I was okay with it. Because I know that God is going to take care of me. I'm not saying that I don't have to do my part. But it is, what it is. And right now? I'm feeling good about it.

So let's run with that, shall we?

Thankfully...

for my new budget, this dress is out of stock.

You see! There is a God! And He wants me to stick to my new budget!

This Is What Happens When I Make a Budget

Oh? That's not what it's used for? Hmmmmm.

J and I have discussed our finances and have made a budget. This is how much money I spent today:

Co-pay: $35

Gas: $40

Lunch: $5-my grandfather gave me $5, but I left it in the car. Stupid girl. But I do have the $5 so I don't know if I should include it. Whatever. I had to run it through my debit card so I'll list it.

Oh, and as an aside, I bought a mango tropichiller from Pollo Tropical (my grandfather was buying), and in my new frugal state of mind, I was like, WTF? Three Dollars! THREE DOLLARS! That's how I know this budget thing is going to stick. Because before I would've been like, three dollars? That's nothing! I'm going to burn three dollars right now! And it didn't even TASTE like mango!

Crazy Pills (Plus cookies, plus cooking oil, plus two cans of tuna): $50

_______________________________________________

GRAND TOTAL: $130

Deep sigh.

Baby steps, cookies. Baby steps.

Well, If I didn't Need Them Before, I Sure as Fuck Need Them Now

PROLOGUE
An excerpt from the drama, Smart Cookie Goes on Anxiety Meds

SCENE: Happy Hour at the local Chilli's

Cousin M.: Oh, thanks for waiting for me guys -I was at the doctor's FOREVER!

SC: What were you doing at the doctor? Getting a second opinion (M had a mass near her thyroid and had to have it removed)?

Cousin M.: Nope! (Holding up a pack of pills)I had to get these!

SC: What are those?

Cousin M: These are pills for my anxiety.

SC: How did you get them? Do you have to go to a special doctor?

Cousin M: Nooooooo. You just go to your GP and tell him you're anxious and he gives them to you.

SC: Hmmmm.

Cousin K: SC, aren't you on anxiety medication?

SC: Um, NO! Why? Do you think I should be?

Cousin K: Um, no. Not really. It's just that you seem like the type of person that would be on anxiety medication.

SC: WHAT?!!!!!

Cousin K: Not in bad way, you're just like a really anxious person.

Cousin C: SC, maybe it's not a bad idea.

Fast forward to today. I've been dealing with lots of stuff lately, stuff that came to a head last week and has raised my anxiety levels to new heights. I can't go in to detail, but rest assured it's stuff that by the grace of God J and I will get through.

Anyhoodle, I had a doctor's appointment this morning. I woke up a little groggy, and I honestly thought about skipping it. I've been praying and meditating and trying to get myself together, so I've been feeling a little bit better. And to be honest, the thought of lounging in bed was tres tempting. Especially when I had no idea when or where my doctor's appointment was.

But. I got up, got dressed, looked up the doctor's address on the internet, and set out.

K. First of all, I live in Florida, and it is mad hot here. Like Africa hot. I'd never been to this doctor's office before, but I had an idea as to where it was. I parked and began walking. And walking. And walking. This doctor's office is in strip mall AND I WALKED THE WHOLE MALL, sweating and stinking furiously, until I finally called the doctor's office and begged for directions. Another five minute walk, and I was there. Finally.

So I get there, cranky as all get out, sign in, and sit down. Thank goodness they had some old Seventeen magazines. While I'm there, I notice that a lot of the patients are children, but I don't think too much of it.

At 9:15, my mom calls,

Mom: Are you coming to work?

SC: What? Aren't you guys still on vacation?

Mom: No, I thought that's what we talked about yesterday.

SC: I thought we were talking about working next week. No problem. I'm on my way.

Mom: No, wait! Where are you?

SC: I'm at the doctor's office, but I'm already getting hysterical, I'll be there in five minutes.

Mom: Oh, no! You stay there! I'll get ready and go to work.

SC: No! I'm already ready to go! I'm walking toward the car!

Mom: Go back in there and get your stuff taken care of!


After half an hour, no one has called my name, no one has asked for my insurance card, no one has given me any paperwork to fill out. My appointment was at 9:00, and it was already 9:30.

So I go to the little window, and I ask for the paperwork. When I sit down, I realize that the paperwork asks about my child. K. No bambinos here. Confused, I continue to stare at the paperwork. I go back to the little window and ask the receptionist how I'm supposed to fill out the paperwork.

SC: What am I supposed to fill out for child? I don't have a child.

Receptionist: Just fill in the name of the child you brought.

SC: But I didn't bring a child.

Receptionist: So just fill your name under where it says mother.

SC: BUT I'M NOT A MOTHER!

Receptionist: Who are you here for?

SC: ME! I'm here for ME!

Receptionist: So why did you register to see the pediatrician?

SC: I DIDN'T register to see the pediatrician. No one helped me, that was the sign in sheet, so that's where I signed.

Receptionist: Oh. Okay. Well then just fill out this.

UGH!

K. So I fill out the paperwork, and when I give it to her, she says, "Smart Cookie, I'm sorry, but I called your insurance and it's inactive."

Kill me. Kill me now. I must have left my current insurance card at home. FML!!!

SC: All right, can I go home and get my other card? I'll be back in twenty minutes.

Receptionist: Ummmm. I don't know. Can't you have someone fax the information?

At this point I am in utter disbelief. Like I have a staff at home waiting for fax instructions. WTF? Are you kidding me?

SC: Um, no. I don't. But if you give me twenty minutes, I'll be right back.

Receptionist: The doctor is really busy. She's got a lot of appointments today.

SC: Really? Are you telling me that I can wait forty minutes for the doctor, but she can't wait twenty minutes for me? Is that what you're saying?

Receptionist: (All huffy) Well, as long as you come back in twenty minutes.

So. Back outside to the suffocating heat, walk the forever distance to my car, get in, speed home, and get my insurance card. Which, Cookies? Is the same fucking insurance card I gave the receptionist! So I'm hysterical, in my driveway, and I call the insurance company to make sure the card is valid, which of course it is. Of course.

By this time, I'm hysterical. If I could've kicked my own ass, I would've. I mean, this is the perfect scenario for anxiety medication. They couldn't have scripted it better.

So I go back. My insurance card (which is the same fucking card I first gave them) is valid. No shit. And then finally. Finally. They call me in.

Two hours from start to finish. And I'm not even going to tell you about my actual appointment.

These pills better be worth it.

This...

is the only thing that keeps me from stabbing myself with a fork.

J, the love of my life is like xanax, sometimes the only thing that keeps me sane.

Better Than Ebay

I found this new ebay-ish site, bonanzle.com. It's like ebay, but you can list your items for free and you only pay a fee when your items sell. It's super easy. I listed a bunch of stuff. Check it out.