“I am not young enough to know everything”

1. Bank of America/ Visa.

I go to the mall today with my family, and my debit card is declined. Since that hasn’t happened since my 7th street days… I was concerned. My initial thought was that Shane had taken all of the money and went to Mexico. That was a little overboard, so I went with my second thought… maybe a check I had  long ago forgotten just now cleared. I call Bank of America. My credit card number had been stolen. On December 22 (or there about), somone had attempted to use my card a total of four different times, each time with no success. Just today they figured that out. And no, they didn’t feel the need to call me and let me know. They decided to let me find out the hard way. I go out to buy shoes, and my card is declined. I feel like an asshole. I’m embarrased. There are people in line behind me, and my family (who I feel like I should constantly be impressing) are gawking at me.

So I call Bank of America. They tell me that my card number was viewed and written down by some person, and that person tried to use my card. They won’t tell me any more information than that, because “we are still investigating.” Now my bank account, along with all my credit cards, are frozen. Some son of a bitch took my card number, and no one figured they should tell me about it. At least they didn’t get my money as well. If I ever found out who did this, I will personally shove my foot up their ass. Visa is investigating… and I was told they have ways to track where the card was tried and (if computers or telephones were involved in purchasing) who tried it.

I hope they find that bastard.

2. Hewlett Packard

The charger to my laptop no longer worked. We ordered another from HP. HP said it would work and it was compatible. The package said the same. Why then, did it fry my fucking laptop? Why?

And now HP wants me to send them $298 so they can “service” the computer. Are they stupid? Who does that, really? Who fries a computer and then wants money to fix what they fucked up? Who? I’ll tell you who. HP. Never, ever buy shit from them. They mess it all up. Just don’t.

I have no way of controlling my thoughts lately, or linking them together in any sort of manner, so I haven’t written in a while.

I feel like I am changing into someone else. My actions, emotions, and particularly my dreams are those of someone different than I. I am constantly confused, upset, and bewildered. My mind has tricked itself into seeing and hearing things that are not there, into going from laughing to crying to frightened to guilty and back to happy in the matter of a few minutes. This literally hurts.

I want to be a chef. It seems like it would be a peaceful job, being surrounded by food, and making some vegetables into this masterpiece. I doubt I’ll ever really pursue this…

It’s 12:55. I have to work the next three days. Really I want to go to work. At work, I deal with people, and that’s easier than dealing with myself.

My daughter learned yesterday that there are religions different than ours. She heard someone talking about being Jewish (not me, I swear), and so she asked. I told her the origins of the religion, about the Holocaust, about the big Jewish traditions. She understood it all. She asked questions to learn more, and she was interested in learning about religions other than hers. She didn’t judge (too much) because someone’s beliefs were different than hers. That’s my girl.

We finally got a new manager at work. I wonder if this will change morale, or really even change anything. The manager they hired worked as an assistant Nurse Manager for some time. The problem with her is that she is always gone. She seriously takes a vacation about once a month, and stays gone for two or three weeks at a time. One of the most important jobs as a manager is to be visible and accessible. I fear that this lady will be neither. Plus she does this squinting thing with her eyes… drives me nutty.

The longer I live in Phoenix, the more I dislike it. There is too much noise. There is a “brown cloud” that makes my allergies rise up and strangle me. People are not as nice here. I miss grass. I miss my family. I miss speaking English more than Spanish at work. I miss having good beef. I want life to be more relaxed. But God, I love Joe’s. Too bad they can’t have a hospital like that in the country. Maybe we’ll get close enough to Dallas for me to work at Parkland. Cross your fingers.

I am not a movie person, so it’s rare that I watch one, and even more rare that I feel the urge to write about it.  However, That movie was horrible.

I love Burt Reynolds. The way he slaps innocent bystanders…. his moustache….the toupee he has rocked since before I was born…. but even he let me down.

Roscoe P. Coltrane is a bumbling idiot. Not a well-spoken cop-about-the-town. And do you know what made me cry? The doors to the General Lee opened. Jeebus. Those doors don’t open. They never have. There weren’t even door handles on the General Lee, because it would increase wind resistance (thanks, Cecil). The Duke Boys came in and out through the window. They didn’t have time for silly doors.

I’m sure all of you have already suffered through this piece of crap movie. If you haven’t, don’t. Watch the reruns. Back in the good ‘ole days where doors stayed shut, the acting was OK, and the plot was much better.

Plus, Jessica Simpson wasn’t nearly as good as they made her out to be. Hot? Yes. Acting skills? Not in your wildest dreams.

I am dieting. Officially. Diets are quite stupid in my opinion, and the only thing worse is exercise. However, They are necessary evils. You see, I have the diabetes. When I am small(er), my blood sugars are fine. When I balloon to the size of a gorilla, my sugars aren’t so hot. So now I diet.

Here’s the thing. I can’t control myself when it comes to Nutty Buddys and Oreos. Those are like, 300 calories per serving. I know the whole time I’m eating it how horrible it is to eat, but I do it regardless. I have to break the habit. So now I’ve started doing the slim-fast thing, as well as running. I was pretty suprised my ass made it even 1/2 mile yesterday…. seeing that I only run if someone is behind me with a knife. I plan on being able to run two miles within the next 30days (all at once).

In other news, apparently Pat Robertson is running his mouth again, saying Ariel Sharon’s stroke was from God.

That guy is an idiot. And so are the people that are witholding this hope that Sharon will be back. You see, when someone’s brain bleeds to the extent his did, there is no rehab. There is no “better.” There is only a persistant vegitative state. I took care of a guy that had the same thing about a week ago, and they had been very aggressive in treating it. They took out 1/3 of his brain, and he was not fit to say his own name, much less run a nation.

Pat Robertson, however, is a turd. All this death-wishing that he is doing…. that’s really being filled with the spirit of Christ. 

1. The insurance is at fault for the referral crap. The Army is the king of HMOs… hence the need for a referral to even look at someone outside of family practice. Idiotic. If I have a broken ankle, I know that I need to go to the damned Ortho doc. But noooooo…. I have to sit through two days of family practice hell in a waiting room, waste my time waiting on flaky doc #43, and then, finally, if I’m lucky…. get a referral to the Ortho guy.

2. I could have given you an EKG in like a minute flat. Too bad you aren’t in PHX.

3. You are absolutely right. People have to be DYING in order to get real health care in this country. Docs spend 2 minutes with the patient, and then write them a prescription for useless drug #524 to get them out of the office. Doctors do not really care for their patients. And then, when Steve Brunner has a sore thumb because he’s been sitting on it too long, the doc tells him to go to the ER. PILE OF SHIT. I wish those sons a bitches would come and work in the ER for a day. Then they’ll see that the waiting room is full of people who are really sick (read:dying) because there are Steve Brunners all over the waiting room. It’s ignorant.

4. I highly recommend that you see a Nurse Practitioner if the army employs them. They’re getting to be somewhat like doctors, but they spend an average of 20 minutes with each patient, write less prescriptions, and have better success rates with their patients. (Big Study just came out showing all this stuff). They can do the same things, and are just as good clinically. If your doctor doesn’t listen to you, find another one. If you don’t think he’s right, tell him. But I guess now I’m on a rant and not really adressing you.

5. Let me tell you about my doc. I have had headaches, and haven’t been sleeping for some time. I go to the doc, who gives me a med with the side effect of crying. I take the pill, and lo and behold, I cry all the time. So she says stop taking this pill, take this one. You’re depressed because you’re crying and not sleeping. I said no, I’m not depressed. I would know if I was.

The crazy hag tells me to go to counseling, because I may be depressed about something and not know it. I say thanks but no thanks. Here is the deal in my opinion: My headaches are due to not sleeping. I don’t sleep because I get anxious when I lie down, because I know I should be sleeping. My crying is because of the medicine with the side effect of…. drumroll….. crying. So regardless, this new pill makes me go to sleep, which is what I wanted in the first place. It took three visits, an MRI,  and $100 to get what I originally asked for. And I still have to go to a neurologist (I got the all-important referral).

I had to rave about that one, as you predicted I would. I wish I could help you.

Also… don’t know about the dentist thing, but I do know that the army has came up with a lot of dumb shit in the past few years. And you’re lucky. My cleaning last month cost $422, and that’s on top of insurance. I shit you not.

Also, I have some other things I would like to discuss. I can’t discuss anything for long though, because I think way faster than I type, and by the time I type it, I’m already five subjects away. This is why my blog never works out like my brain.

1. My christmas tree is stupid. It’s too short.

2. I’m frustrated with everything right now. Nothing seems right. I’m tired of editing myself on my blog, but I have to. I always edit myself. I admire those of us who do not.

3. Sometimes I put on the darth vader voice changer mask when I’m by myself and say stupid things.

4. I think my ex husband took my daughter to the poor kid thing for Christmas. I’ll elaborate on this one. She said that she went to see Santa, and they gave her and her little sister a present. It took place in a gym. You know those angels on the tree in WalMart that have the name, age, and favorite toy of a poor kid? I think that this year, my daughter was the poor kid. It’s really funny as hell… my ex husband is a piece of work. I shall not be sued for slander…. so that’s all I’ll say about him. But really?

She also got another christmas present…… you know those little soaps in the shape of swans and roses that your grandma keeps in her bathroom? The ones that smell like shit? The ones you can only find at the Dollar General?

Yeah. She got those. I shit you not. I’m so ready for her to get old and realize what a turd….. I”ll stop there, due to the slander thing. This brings me to my next point.

5. Some people are poor because bad shit happens to them. You get knocked up…. you lose your job….you have to go to Iraq and it makes you crazy….. whatever. And then there are the other kind. The people that are poor because they are downright LAZY. There is no need for someone who has a college degree  to take their kid to the poor kid’s christmas. I understand the “starving artist” type, but Jesus. You. Have. A. Degree. Go make more than seven dollars an hour at the local Wackenhut and get a fucking real job. DO NOT SIT ON YOUR ASS AND TAKE YOUR KID TO THE POOR KID PLACE. Do not buy groceries with your foodstamps and buy pot and gay-ass leather pants with your money. (No offense meant to the gay or leather pant population). Do not get tatoos of pot leaves on your back while your kid gets dollar store soap for christmas. Just. Don’t.

* Disclaimer: None of the writings in the above paragraph are true. Any similarity to any person alive or dead is merely a coincidence. *

6. I want a set of china. Erin’s mom has three or four or something, and I don’t have any. I want some. My family collects cow figurines. Go figure. That’s just my luck.

7. TV programming sucks balls lately.

8. Just about everything sucks balls here lately. I had to delete what I originally wrote here because it would have sounded bad.

9. I went to a random blog today, and it really touched me. I remember when I was fourteen, I really wanted to kill myself a lot. I was one of those kids with a lot of angst. I was really angry (I still am deep down in there, but now it’s not suicidal angry). Anyways, this girl reminded me of me when I was fourteen…. and I just wanted to tell her that I made it, and I know she will too…. and I’m glad that I made it because it is now more good than bad, which wasn’t the case back then. But if I told her that, she wouldn’t listen to me… I know because I wouldn’t have listened to me either. But the thing is…. she’s a brilliant girl. You can tell by her writing. So I settled on telling her not to take too much cough medicine, that it could kill her. Yeah, I sounded like her mom I’m sure….. if she’s lucky enough to have a mom. I hope the best for her. I think that it is the brilliant minds that suffer most…. and it’s too bad.

10. I’m going to go to the doctor tomorrow, and I’m going to be OK. The MRA will show nothing, and I’ll be refferred to a neurologist, who, after extensive costly testing…. will conclude that it is merely lack of sleep and pollution causing my headache.

I say that because I really am scared. Wow. That’s hard to say. I am a hypochrondriac… I hope that’s all it is. I guess that working in a neuro focused ER has got me over-worried. Or maybe the fact that all these women in my family have had anyeurisms.

Of course, I remember when I had my ankle surgery… That guy said my ankle wouldn’t hold up being an ER nurse… and it’s held up wonderfully. So even if they tell me it’s something fierce…. I’ll hold up wonderfully. But it won’t be fierce. It will be pollution and lack of sleep. Watch.

I’m done now. I’m in the worst mood…. I wish I knew why.

That guy is a bad ass football player. Wow.

So I watched the Rose Bowl tonight, and I have to say, it kept my intrest longer than most football games. But this is a boring ass subject, so on to more interesting things.

I think one of my coworkers is cheating on his pregnant wife. It’s made me lose allll respect for this guy, and I sure as shit don’t want to work with him…. but I’m torn here. What he does is his business. I think abortion is wrong, but I fraternize with those who have had abortions. Why is this different? Maybe because I see myself in it?

The fact that really stops me cold is that the girl is pregnant. He is cheating on a woman that is carrying his child. She isn’t currently working, and she has two other kids. And he’s playing grabass in his spare time. And the slut knows his wife is pregnant!

My. God.

Crazy, stupid women who think that a man loves her….. oh he’s having sex with me…. so he OBVIOUSLY wants to get rid of his wife, forget about his children, and make out with me forever more.

Because no, he really doesn’t. He really just wants to get it wet a few times, and go home to the woman who is stupid enough to cook/clean/put up with his shit.

It takes two to wreck a home though. That son of a bitch…. he’ll get it one of these days. I hope his wife finds out, ties him down, shoves a hot curling iron straight up his ass, and leaves with all his money.

And the crazy (or not so crazy) fact is that somewhere around 75% of people cheat on their spouses at one time or another. Makes me wonder about the “sanctity” of anything.