Friday, February 29, 2008

How to Celebrate Leap Day with Diabetes

It's a day that doesn't happen every year, so I feel like I should have something special to say to everyone.

Unfortunately, I don't, really. I can't think of a meaty post that needs to be made today. My mind feels lazy.

So, I encourage every one of you out there who has diabetes to do something you don't normally do. I don't mean overindulging or skipping meds/insulin. I don't mean go skydiving or swim with sharks.

Simply put, I think the message that you all should follow today is this:

It's Leap Day! Change your lancet before we go into daylight savings time for once, because hey, this day only comes along every 4 years!

That is all. Have a great weekend, everyone.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

"It only takes, like, 30 seconds to get a cheeseburger and I have to wait 2 hours for healthcare?"

or, How I Spent My Monday Night/Tuesday Morning

"This sucks," said the teenage boy in the waiting room to his mother after uttering the sentence that is the title of this post. He was holding the side of his head, complaining about how much his ear hurt. His mother, clad in salmon-colored sweatpants and hastily thrown on furry suede ankle boots, looked mostly irritated rather than worried. I assumed her son begged and begged for her to do something, then she got him to the ER and all he could do was complain.

It seemed that all anyone could do in the ER waiting room at that hour was complain. There was the white-trashy lady who claimed to have been waiting to be taken back for six hours. Her husband had already been treated for something, and for whatever reason, was waiting in the hospital parking lot in his truck. I'm not saying she wasn't in bad shape, but she wasn't in much visible pain and limped only as much as someone who pulled a muscle at the gym. I was, and still am, a little hung up as to why her husband would not wait with her in the waiting room. Her hyper 8-year-old son waited with her for a while, then resigned himself to the truck.

Two girls came in, one looking similar to me in that she was clutching her pelvis and gritting her teeth. White trashy lady complained about the wait, and the two girls soon left, hoping to get faster service at a different hospital further down the road.

So why was I there? It felt like Christmas Eve all over again in the worst way. If you recall, I spent most of the afternoon of Christmas Eve at the ER starting with severe lower abdominal pain that subsided. They diagnosed me with a UTI, gave me antibiotics and sent me on my way. Well, the same think happened last night, just after coming back from hanging out at i,fanblades (band of Matt & Nigel, in case you weren't aware) practice in Delaware. The pain was bad. I had Matt drive me to the ER around midnight.

Where we waited. And waited. And waited. The pain was going away. I was beginning to think I should just go home and call my doctor's office as soon as they opened. Then I was called back, paid my co-pay, and decided if I was going to spend $35 to sit around in the middle of the night, I might as well wait to find out what the hell was wrong with me. I was poked, prodded, exhausted. It was 4am, and I was crying through my blood draw, which is not something I typically do. I tried to go to sleep, but the nurse had stuck an IV cannula in my arm, just in case. I couldn't find a comfortable position to put my arm in. Luckily my ER room had a TV, so I was able to distract myself with CNN for a while.

I just wanted to go to sleep. I wasn't hurting too much anymore. They gave me a CAT scan. Said it looked like my ovary might be the cause of the trouble. Then they gave me a pelvic exam, which hurt like a bitch because of the aforementioned ovary problem. Then they decided to send me for an ultrasound. The ultrasound tech informed me that I had an ovarian cyst on the right, possibly also a smaller one on the left. Hearing my symptoms, she said that one of them had most likely ruptured.

So, after this entire ordeal, around 9:30am, I was finally discharged with a diagnosis of ovarian cysts, a prescription for some high-test NSAIDs for pain, and instructions to make an appointment with my doctor sometime this week. I slept all afternoon, probably 5 or 6 hours, but I still feel completely out of it. I'm sure I will head off to bed early tonight.

So, that's how I spent my Tuesday morning...literally...all of it. I'm feeling a lot better now, and I'm sure that I'll be fine. I'm off to lie around on the couch, have some water and play some DS.

There were amusing diabetes-themed angles that applied to this visit, but I think I will save those for tomorrow. I'm just too exhausted right now. Ugh.

Monday, February 25, 2008

The Sting of Rejection and Bad Lancets

A disappointing email arrived this morning from one of the recruiters I've been speaking to. As cool as the office position with the comic book publisher sounded, as sure as I was that I would be a shoo-in (since I am a natural at multi-tasking and being creatively nerdy), I guess I just didn't have what they were looking for.

No comic book publisher job for me. This launched me into a crying fit because then the giant insecurity of "Oh no what if I don't get that other job that I really wanted??!" decided to block the sunshine over my head. I still have not heard back about this other job, but I am still trying to be guardedly hopeful.

Has anybody out there had trouble with their OneTouch lancets getting dull quickly? I mean, yes, we all know there's no such thing as truly pain-free testing (duuuhhh), but normally, my fingers are not sore, even after multiple sticks. I am beginning to wonder if I should just pitch the box--maybe I got a somewhat sub-par batch? I actually bought some fancy BD Ultra-Fine lancets today in an attempt to ease my fingertip pain! Let's be real--how often do most of us change our lancets? Not too often, in my case, until I opened this box of OneTouch brand. I think even if I changed it every day, I'd still be hurting.

Maybe I need to re-adjust my depth setting?

Sigh, what a day of ouch.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

3 to 4 Inches of Snow Means...a Meme!

It snowed here last night. It may also ice over later on, but for now the snow plow is scraping up the parking lot, making it possible for Nigel and I to go obtain lunch. Nigel decided not to drive to Delaware today, but Matt went off to work up in Coopersburg, which is about 40 minutes north of here. I was a bit worried, but I'm sure he made it okay. I'm sure if he got stuck along the road someplace, he would have called by now. But hey, thank God it's Friday, and thank God it's payday. We need some groceries in our kitchen like nobody's business! Anywho, here's that "Crazy 8s" meme that everybody's been doing.

8 Things I’m Passionate About.
1. Writing--this blog, poems, fiction, hopefully some pieces relating to a future job?
2. My friends & fam, especially friends who are more like family.
3. Creativity.
4. Always keeping an open mind.
5. Getting healthier.
6. Reading all manner of things.
7. Always having fun, whether I'm playing a video game or laughing with my husband over something completely ridiculous.
8. My marriage!

8 Things I Want to Do Before I Die.

1. Have kids.
2. Travel.
3. Drive a fancy sports car!
4. Get published, whether it be a book, a magazine, or a blog--just something that isn't SELF-published.
5. Get a cure for diabetes, though I'd settle for a closed-loop system.
6. Have grandkids.
7. Take up some kind of craft, whether it's crocheting, sewing, pottery, art, or cooking...
8. Make a difference. (<- I copied this list from Kerri, and I'm totally not changing this answer!)

8 Things I Say Often.

1. "Hey boo..."
2. "You're a kitty!" (Followed by head scritches for said kitty.)
3. "I'm hungry."
4. "Seriously?"
5. "No, you can't have more kibbles until you finish what's in your bowl." (I spend a lot of time at home with the cat, since I don't yet have a job, can you tell?)
6. "Do fings!"
7. "Pwned!" (pronounced like "owned" with a "p" at the beginning, for those of you non-geeks out there.)
8. "I love you." or, alternately, if you're the cat, "I wuv you, yes I do, kittykittykittykitty, who's a good kitty?"

8 Books I’ve Read Recently.
1. One Mississippi by Mark Childress
2. My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult
3. Love is a Mix Tape by Rob Sheffield
4. Rumspringa: To Be or Not To Be Amish by...umm...I forget who wrote it.
5. The Guy Not Taken by Jennifer Weiner
6. Jack of Fables, vol. 1 by...umm, I am also not sure. It's a collected series of comic books.
7. The Ultimate Job Seeker's Guide (I really don't care who wrote it, I'm just looking to write a better cover letter and to have some interview tips.)
8. The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett

Some of these books I am currently reading (1 & 8), some I've read over the past couple of months. I go to the library pretty frequently, and I'm always checking out a lot of books. Some of them I only end up skimming. Oh crap, I am now realizing there is a stray library book in the bathroom that needs returned!

8 Songs I Could Listen to Over and Over. (Author's Note: at least, my votes for this week's songs...)

1. Capturing Moods - Rilo Kiley
2. Extraordinary Machine - Fiona Apple
3. The Future Freaks Me Out - Motion City Soundtrack
4. Antennas - Rancid
5. Say It Ain't So - Weezer
6. Rise Up with Fists!! - Jenny Lews and the Watson Twins
7. The Sporting Life - The Decemberists
8. Paranoiaattack - The Faint

8 Things That Attract Me to My Best Friends.
1. Sense of humor
2. Honesty
3. They're there for me through thick and thin.
4. They accept me, quirks and all.
5. They're fun-loving and fun to be around.
6. They at least have marginally similar tastes in movies, music, culture...something that I like.
7. They're open-minded, resilient, flexible, at least a little spontaneous.
8. They're more like family whom I was lucky enough to choose.

People I Think Should Do Crazy 8s.
1. Anybody who hasn't done it yet.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Notes from the Endo-Ground

Most of us with diabetes know what a harrowing experience a visit to a new doctor can be, especially when that doctor is a new endocrinologist. Your endo is, often times, the one medical professional you count on to help you manage your diabetes and everything that comes along with it. Some of us (myself included) are lucky enough to find help from other areas, such as a diabetes educator, and some of us are self-sufficient enough to fine-tune our diabetes management independently. I like to think most of us rely on some combination thereof.

My heart was pounding as I got into the car this morning. I didn't have a log of any of my numbers. I didn't have any lab work to bring with me. I didn't know what I was in store for on this bright, chilly day. I tried to hope for the best. I focused on the road, wondering what Dr. B was going to look like, what kind of personality she was going to have. She came highly recommended from both my family doctor and pretty much everyone at Integrated Diabetes Services, so I suspected, at the least, that she would be good.

Dr. B shares a practice with three or four other doctors. When I arrived to check in, there were probably six other people in the waiting room besides myself. I had already filled out most of my new patient paperwork by mail. I had to sign a privacy policy and pay my insurance co-pay. The receptionist handed back my $75.00 check which I mentioned yesterday. I wished I could cash it instead of tossing it, but hey, payday is coming soon. Scattered around the office were various pamphlets on diabetes-related products: Symlin, insulin use for type 2s, the i-Port, the Dexcom 7.

When I was weighed, I was surprised to find out I was 4 pounds lighter than the last time I was on a scale. Of course, I noted that my ankles were not yet full of fluid and I hadn't yet eaten lunch. If that's unrelated though, woo hoo! 4 pounds have disappeared! Anyway.

I was also surprised to find the exam rooms weren't packed full of diabetes-related posters and pamphlets like every other endocrinologist's exam room I've been in. I found it a bit odd, but I also thought it was kind of calming to not be surrounded by reminders that my A1C isn't the greatest, that I should be testing more frequently, that I should lose weight or that I'm a bad, bad naughty diabetic. I relax. I let my guard down, and my new endo, Dr. B, walks in.

She's shorter than I imagined she'd be, and she kind of looks like a miniature version of one of my cousins. She's cheery and smiley, calls me "hon" and "sweetie" a lot, which really works for her. Sometimes I get annoyed when people I don't know well call me cutesy names, but with her, it makes me feel less disconnected. Dr. B seems like a genuine person intent on helping me. She's thrilled to know that I've been working with Gary, and she decides we're not really going to mess with my insulin because of this fact.

She really listened to what I had to say, and she seems interested to find out why I am so insulin-resistant. I told her about my mom's recent diagnosis with Cushing's Syndrome, and we decided that maybe I should be tested, even if I don't have most of the signs, just in case. There's a lot of lab work in my future, but that's nothing new. She recommended an opthamologist and sent me home with new prescriptions, a vial of Lantus in case of a pump-failure-type emergency, and a vial of Humalog, mostly because I think she felt bad that she didn't have a Symlin pen to give me.

All in all, it was a pretty successful first visit to my new endo. I hope that things continue progressing in such a positive direction!

In the meantime, I wish I could apply some of this excess positivity to my job search. Playing the waiting game is growing old really quickly. Oh well...more on that as it happens.

Dorkabetic Presents...

A Day in the Life of the Achievement Whore, as originally seen on G4tv's "Attack of the Show":

I personally enjoy the appearance of the MySpace whore at the end of the video. Contains no actual nudity, just lots of actual geekiness.

Random unrelated sidenote, actually relating to yesterday's post: I think I need to invent a drink called the Zombie Spritzer.

D-Related News of the Day:
Off to see my brand-new endo tomorrow morning. I'm not exactly sure what this will bring, but more on that tomorrow after the actual visit occurs. I have high hopes for this lady--she comes highly recommended. Gary [Scheiner, the Wonder CDE] told me that this woman is the one I want to see, but nobody else in her practice. I take that as a good recommendation, and I hope it is hassle-free. This is, after all, the practice who had me mail them a check for $75.00, which they treat as no-show insurance.

Coming tomorrow: Notes from the Endo-Ground!

Monday, February 18, 2008

Someone's a-rockin' my dreamboat...

Aren't dreams such strange, silly and sometimes magical things? The images my brain cooks up while I'm sleeping, not to mention the reactions I have to these things, I believe are truly wonders of the human experience. I can't really speak for the animal experience, but I'm pretty sure I've seen the cat having a dream. She's usually sleeping and then her paws bat at something or her face twitches like it does when she sees a bird or a squirrel.

I've had some strange dreams in the past couple of days, probably triggered from watching some strange movies. Last night, I had a dream in which I got a job! I woke up happy, thinking this was surely some kind of good sign. As I awoke, I heard my phone buzz once in my purse, meaning I had a new voicemail. I perked up immediately, thinking maybe this was a message from one of my recent, seemingly successful interviews. No such luck--merely a reminder call from Gary's office regarding my appointment tomorrow, which I actually needed to reschedule. (Note: now it's for next Tuesday. I can't very well meet with the dietitian about a food log that I haven't started. Yikes.)

At least I didn't have a disappointing job dream, like the dream I had in which I got a job, only to be accosted outside of the office by a bunch of ladies with picket signs. There was no way in hell I could have the job, they told me. I wasn't a member of the secretaries' union. They took my acceptance packet and ripped it to shreds.

So my weird, weird dream the other night that followed some weird, weird movies...well, combine something like "Cloverfield" with something post-apocalyptic, and you've got the atmosphere. The first half of the dream is fairly foggy, but I was in a city with a number of people that I know running from some kind of monster attack. At some point in the dream, I remember seeing some kind of number, something like 308, and then I thought, "Wake up! Five bucks says that's your blood sugar level! Did you correct before you fell asleep?" Yes, sometimes I have rational thoughts within the context of my dreams. I realize this is probably really weird, but it's not the first time it's happened to me. I wake up, I test, it's something like 180. I dose a tiny bit, and go back to sleep. I end up back in the same city, in what seems to be the same dream.

The monster situation was under control, but then, OH THEN, came the viral zombie attack.

You know the ones. Think "28 Days Later". Think "I Am Legend". Somehow I have ended up in a different outfit, and I'm fighting off zombies with a length of rebar. Stabbing them, whacking them, whatever I can do. So the fight sequences go on for a bit, and I lose my weapon. I seem to have lost all of my weapons, and all I have left in my hand is a spray bottle of 409. I close my eyes, I squeeze the trigger and spritz my attacker several times...lo and behold! The 409 has cured this person of the rage virus. We manage to acquire more spray bottles, and we start building a spray bottle army!

It was some really crazy stuff, but here's the kicker. In one vivid moment within this crazy dream, I walk up to a girl I recognize. She looks dazed and completely out of it, vacantly holding a cell phone to her ear that she's not talking into. I know something is wrong, and then I know instantly who this person is.

I grab her by the wrist to get her attention. "Hey, are you Kerri? You write the blog 'Six Until Me.'?"

"Yeah, that's me," she answers, distant but cheery.

"Look," I say, "I think you're having a low blood sugar. You should go over there and test, and drink some juice."

"Oh. Yeah." She says, wandering off.

Pretty soon I'm back to spritzing zombies, so it was the last I saw of her. My brain is such a strange place.

Author's Note: If you also want to have disturbing dreams, I suggest checking out the Japanese horror/thrillers "Meatball Machine" and "Suicide Club". But these are totally not movies for everyone, and I'll also say the end, they didn't make a lot of sense. Also, in terms of the dreams I had, the movies contained neither giant monsters nor zombies. Hmmm.

Friday, February 15, 2008


We make each other laugh a LOT. I love my silly husband.

Thanks to everyone who left me birthday wishes! It was a nice b-day with a steak dinner followed by some chilling out at home.

Last night, Matt and Nigel's band (i,fanblades) played a show in Wilmington, Delaware, at one of my favorite dives, Mojo 13. It was a really great time. I even wore a dress! The rest of the band was dressed up, so why not me? Our friends from The Collingwood, another great local band down here, were the main band of the night, and they put on a great show, as usual. There was booty shaking. There was rocking out. Diet Cokes were consumed, but I was driving, so nothing else was added to them.

All in all, I was feeling the love. Party tonight! Cleaning to be done! A better post will come soon, I promise.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Nooo, it are my birthday too!

Dear LOLcat,

On this day of my birth, I feel your pain. I, too, have garnered the stink-eye many a time for wanting just a wee bit of frosting. Ah well. Happy birfday to me!


nom nom nom / nooo it are my birthday
moar funny pictures

Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Sussies, Snow, and Generalized Dorkiness.

I got my sussy! Granted, it was nearly a week ago when this happened, but I realized I hadn't written about it. I wanted to take pics, but I've been eating the candy, and the box got recycled by my husband for putting some holiday decorations in the attic. I must say, I was surprised when I came home from shopping to see a Medtronic MiniMed box on my doorstep. "I didn't order supplies," I said aloud. "What the hell?" As I got closer to the package, I realized it had cutouts from comic books taped to it and handwritten labels. "Sussy!" I exclaimed.

I hustled inside to open it. I was thrilled to find it was from Carrie, at Bad Decision Maker. She and I have had quite the Scrabble game going over our Facebook accounts--she challenged me to find out who was the dorkier Dorkabetic, and it's been really fun. Taking a cue from my dorkalicious suggestions, I got a tasty dark chocolate bar and some actually good-tasting sugar-free candies. I got a nifty notebook to write poems in, some organic herbal tea, and two really awesome mix cds. One of the cds has a great cover--lots of ladies from comic books. The other cd is titled "Broken and Fabulous", which is apparently a reference to this zine, which I think I'll be reading later on tonight. (Tip on the 'zine came from Carrie's blog.)

Why? The weather is nasty, so I'm definitely not going anywhere. Thankfully, Matt is also not going to attempt to drive to Delaware for his band practice, and Nigel has decided not to drive back from work in Delaware. He's going to stay with some friends, most likely. It snowed on and off all day, resulting in an inch or two, but now there's sleet and freezing rain. What a massive mess. Matt's normally 40-minute commute took him 2 hours. Hibernation sounds good right about now. Maybe a DVD.

Definitely some video games. I got myself a Nintendo DS! It's pink! Who knew you could have so much fun poking at a 2x2 screen with a stick? Well, I didn't necessarily buy it for myself. It's a birthday present--they're just hard to find, so I didn't want to wait around until after tomorrow, the 13th, which is my actual birthday. I figure I'll break the news to the family post-birthday, and offer them my profound thanks because their birthday money made it possible. Meanwhile, if you need me, I'll be playing "Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney".

Monday, February 11, 2008

Oh Come On, Now.

I was hoping to be a bit more vigilant about counting carbs this week; however, our friend Rich is staying with us for the remainder of the week. He will be flying to Albuquerque on February 16th, where he is going to live with his girlfriend. We all wish him the best--a lot of really cool poet friends of ours live out there, and he's hoping to make their slam team.

What does all of this have to do with carbs?

Rich decided he wanted to cook for us, so he made jambalaya. It was excellent, but do I know what I ate? Noooo. Do I really care right now?

Let me be honest.

Noooo, I do not. I'll keep an eye on my blood sugar and correct as best I can, but you know what? Sometimes it means more to celebrate the good times you've had with a good friend before he moves away than to worry about the numbers. The numbers will always be there, and while Rich will always "be there" for us, he's not going to be HERE for much longer.

I'm sure there is a naysayer or two out there who would just love to chide me, either for my obvious disregard of diabetes protocol or what sounds like plain old laziness on my part, but I just don't care right now.

I always have my diabetes in mind, but sometimes, there are bigger things to be dealt with. Now I promise to make an attempt to properly count the carbs in the cheesecake that Nigel brought home for dessert, but if it's not perfect, so what?

I think we all deserve to let ourselves just be a friend once in a while, instead of a diabetic friend.

Wednesday, February 6, 2008

I'm Bringin' Dorky Back

Okay, so, I realized I haven't talked nerd stuff in quite some time, mostly because I've been spending a lot of time talking about my job search or the steps I'm taking to improve my diabetes control. Let's talk dork stuff! This is Dorkabetic, after all.

First of all, there's a nerdy new development in my life that has to do with my job search. I answered a blind ad on Craigslist. A company was searching for a multi-tasking office assistant who could handle a variety of duties including sales support. It sounded maybe a bit lackluster, but I noticed it was with a publishing company, and being somebody who loves reading, my outlook on the job was improved. Yesterday, I get a phone call from the recruiter responsible for this job, and she wants me to come in for an interview. I discover this isn't just any publishing company. This is a COMIC BOOK publishing company! Now I am definitely interested. The interview is tomorrow morning.

Then tomorrow afternoon I interview with a different company, and I go to a third place on Friday! Things are looking up on the job front. Crap, I managed to still talk about the same topics I always talk about. How can I relate nerdiness to my diabetes care?

I think I want a Nintendo DS for my birthday (which is coming up really soon, as in the day before Valentines Day). Too bad the Glucoboy isn't yet available in the US, according to its website.

I spent most of yesterday afternoon playing Mass Effect on the Xbox 360. It's a great-looking game, and you can customize your player when you start a new career with everything from a psychological profile to what makeup she's wearing. (I made a she, of course, you can also be a he, or you can just play the character the game gives you.) Incredibly addictive gaming, though honestly, I've never played an RPG before, so at first the whole concept of levelling up was somewhat foreign to me. Now I think I know what I'm doing. I still can't shoot things very well, but there's a lot of talking to people and gathering objects. I excel at that. I figure if I keep playing enough, I'll also excel at shooting robot aliens.

Nothing much else to report in the news of the nerdy, save an amusing anecdote from late last night:

ME: Babe, do you still wanna go with me to the Type 1 group at Gary's office tomorrow night?
MATT: Yeah, I guess so.
ME: I think it'll be good. You'll like Gary, he's cool. Oh, and the topic for the evening is data uploading and analysis.
MATT: Really??! Ha, I just got way too excited about that, didn't I?
ME: Maybe a little. But it makes you cute.
MATT: I like data. I can't help it.

Off to the aforementioned meeting! Ta-ta!

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

What Next? No Diabetics in Pastry Shops?

I guess this is old news at this point, but I think it will strike a chord with you readers. I found this story originally at the Junkfood Science blog, as linked possibly by Big Fat Deal. I honestly don't remember the direct path I took to finding the story.

However, you should check out this specific post for the whole story. Here's a bit to rope you in, and to help you understand why I'm so infuriated:

From Junkfood Science:

"It has actually happened. Lawmakers have proposed legislation that forbids restaurants and food establishments from serving food to anyone who is obese (as defined by the State [of Mississippi])....

[This is how the bill begins...]


An act to prohibit certain food establishments from serving food to any person who is obese, based on criteria prescribed by the state department of health; to direct the department to prepare written materials that describe and explain the criteria for determining whether a person is obese and to provide those materials to the food establishments; to direct the department to monitor the food establishments for compliance with the provisions of this act; and for related purposes.

"Should this pass, scales will appear at the door of restaurants, people with BMIs of 30 or higher won’t be allowed to be served. And to comply with government regulations, restaurants will have to keep records of patrons' BMIs.

Is this a tongue-in-cheek bill, meant to point out how absurd the war on obesity has become? Or do lawmakers actually believe the myths that gluttony is the cause for obesity and that it is the government’s role to force people to eat and live how it deems best?"

*** *** ***

Let's talk about BMI's for a second here. Maybe you're thinking, oh, people with a high BMI are probably those folks who are so obese they require a wheelchair and eat 10 pounds of food in a sitting. If that's what you think, you're totally wrong. The BMI of yours truly = 35. Even my hubby's BMI is between 30 and 31, and nobody looks at him and thinks, wow, there's a fat guy, or even an overweight guy.

Even though this is "junk" legislation at work, a bill intended to call attention to the fact that tons of Americans (or in this case, Mississippians) are overweight that will most likely be shot down, it's still horribly offensive. The fact that some cronies who are supposed to be community leaders just came up with a huge, governmental "NO FATTIES, LOLOLZ"-joke is disgusting. Not to mention that passing the act pretty much violates a person's right to friggin' eat and to be treated with some basic dignity. Not all fat people are born that way, and a number of fat folks definitely don't choose to be fat. Sometimes health factors or medications cause major weight gain, or make it nearly impossible to shed pounds.

What next, you hilarious pillars of comedy? No diabetics at the bakery? How about a food discount for people whose BMI classifies them as "underweight"? I know a good motivator for us about no skinny people at the gym?

Get a #$%@&! life, Mississippi reps. Maybe health care programs that actually help people manage healthy lifestyles AND pay for better chronic care, especially for diseases that affect weight like type 2 diabetes, thyroid issues, and hormonal imbalances would be a GOOD government spending choice.

Oh, but there's nothing HILARIOUS about that. Hahahahaha, no fat chicks!! Put down those cookies, lard-ass!! LMFAO!

Okay, my fellow chubbies, here's a list of restaurants where we'll be allowed to eat in Mississippi:

The Lettuce Garden
La Casa Rice Cake
Celery Emporium
Grapefruit Bell

Gah. I just wonder how many taxpayer dollars were spent coming up with this "junk" bill.

I hope everybody went out and voted today if your state was having a primary. Here in PA, we won't vote until May.

Author's Note: Ugh, I apologize for the way this post looks! All the text running together...I think Blogger is pitching a fit because my RAM is overtaxed at present...

Monday, February 4, 2008

Sussy Time and an Escape from New Jersey!

Okay, still waiting on my own sussy to arrive, but I was so pleased to find out that Amalas was thrilled with the sussy I mailed to her. If you are my sussy sender, I hope it is coming soon, but please don't spoil my surprise. I still want to be surprised! I miss the days of anticipating the actual snail mail. More often than not, it's only bills.

Friday I had a job interview in downtown Philadelphia, but I found out today that they chose someone else. They were really lovely people at the office, and while I'm a little disappointed, it's not so bad. I feel like I have enough other things up in the air at the moment that I'll pull through just fine. Some of these other things sound really terrific, so please, keep your fingers crossed, say a little prayer, burn candles to the goddess or whatever it is you do to wish divine luck to someone, because I am hopeful that some of these phone screenings will turn into successful interviews.

Also, on Friday, the weather here in the greater Philly area was horrendous. Rain, fog, and more rain. We were fortunate to avoid the frozen stuff, but still, lots of yuck abounding. After my job interview, I took a ride to New Jersey. Yes, on purpose.

It was rainy and foggy enough that the tip-tops of the towers on the Ben Franklin Bridge seemed to disappear into the sky. Here they are when you can see them...that's Philadelphia in the way-background...

Over the bridge and through Camden, I was travelling to Collingswood, NJ, former home of my Uncle John. His house was sold to a nice, young professional woman a little more than a month ago. A couple of months ago, Matt, Nigel and I went on a trip to pick up a dining room table and some other furniture odds and ends from the place, and we ended up leaving Matt's toolbox and drill behind. The realtor was kind enough to hold onto our stuff until we could come pick it up. The drive to Collingswood was only another 15 minutes from my interview down near South Street in Philadelphia, so it seemed like a great day to pay a visit to the realtor's office.

Let me just say that Friday was a driving adventure. First of all, I'd never driven the streets of Philadelphia on my own, and that was far, far less daunting than driving the streets of New Jersey on my own. I don't know if it's all of NJ or just southern NJ that is so terribly ridiculous. I feel there are divided roads for no reason, exits that just aren't clearly labeled, and signs that come up too fast. I got a wee bit lost attempting to enter Collingswood, because Google Maps failed to mention some little detail on a road sign. I passed over Collings Avenue, which sounded familiar, and I considered stopping somewhere for directions. I was starving, and decided instead I would just stop for lunch.

After some McDonalds (hey, it was cheap, fast, and didn't require me to cross a busy road with only a turn lane and no traffic light...), I made my way back to Collings Ave and remarkably turned in the right direction. After about a mile, I recognized the greater Collingswood area. I finally reached my destination and picked up the tools.

I managed to keep the sadness at bay somehow. I'm guessing the infuriating traffic was the conduit for that. Yet I couldn't avoid the sinking feeling inside when I saw the street that I knew eventually intersected with my Uncle's old street, the tug of sadness realizing I'd never spent the day in this adorable town he'd called home more than once. He'd taken Matt and I to coffee at one of his favorite cafes, and then before we left for Delaware we sat on his front porch chatting, his cat Nora pawing at the screen on the window because we weren't inside petting her. Molly, his other cat, gave us that "better than you" kitty glare from the top of the stairs.

I could understand why he liked it there. There were restaurants, antique shops, boutiques. It didn't feel like New Jersey, but it was certainly more affordable than Philadelphia, and the train station was only a few yards from his house.

Uncle John is doing okay, actually. He's still in Williamsport, but he's moved out of the group home, much to my mother's dismay, and into an apartment. He doesn't really have a great concept about money, and my mom is considering finding an accountant to handle his finances to take the pressure off of her. He'll take $60 out at the ATM, but then he'll use his debit card for a $2.00 purchase right after that, etc, etc. I'm glad she's getting help with things. There's a lot going on in Williamsport right now with all of my family, and it's just overwhelming for my poor mother. She also told me Uncle John mentioned that he'd driven his car to New Jersey to have it inspected. That guaranteed another flip-out, for sure. They're just not sure what to do with him.

I feel like I know how my uncle feels on the inside. Williamsport feels like such a stifling little town when you're used to living near a bigger city. Minimal culture, no public transportation late at night, and very few interesting hangouts. All of Uncle John's friends are in the Philadelphia area or scattered around the country. He was always very independent before, and I'm sure he's just trying to assert it in his own stubborn way.

When I go home to Williamsport, I think about how nice of a place it is to visit for a little while, but I'm always glad I don't have to stay.

But one thing is for least it's not New Jersey. I was in NJ for all of an hour, and I cursed more people out than I did in the entire trip from Blue Bell to downtown Philadelphia. Then you have to pay $3.00 to get out of the state, and once you get off the Ben Franklin Bridge into Pennsylvania, there's sort of a free-for-all situation with the lanes that's downright unnerving!

I will think twice this week before complaining about the drivers out here in the suburbs. I suddenly feel lucky.