Archive for January, 2010

Oh hiatus, how I loathe you

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know it’s been a while since I last posted anything. I’d apologize, but you don’t want sorry. You want reasons WHY. I know how you are, you information thirsty punks. I see right through you.

Sorry, though. You’re not gonna get reasons.

What you WILL get is me telling you that I’m going through some shit right now and I may or may not begin posting again on the regular. The things that are going down are not things that I care to discuss on a public forum, or any forum, really.

Now, with that said, I’d like to bitch a little bit about Facebook and it’s friend “suggestions”.

That has to be one of the MOST asinine features there is. Just cuzz 500 billionty of my friends happen to be friends with someone, that does NOT mean that I would like to be friends with that person. It also does not mean that I would like to see their name and picture every fucking time I log in. I got a suggestion that sent me reeling last night. No details on who it was, but it took me completely off guard. I clicked on the profile to see what I could see and the profile seems to have all the security features up and running, so I couldn’t see much. Just a picture.

That picture was more than enough to set me off.

Honestly, if Greg hadn’t been there, I don’t know how I would have reacted. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t have been a good reaction and I probably would have wound up getting hurt while I was in mid freak out or something. So, thankfully he was there and I was able to simply get off the computer (though I did push the keyboard drawer thingie back into the desk pretty hard) and sit on the couch and shake and smoke. I’m not sure how long I shook, but I decided that chain-smoking was full of The Awesome.

I haven’t been able to get that “suggestion” out of my mind since. And every time I see that picture in my head, I wonder if that person is getting suggestions to add me, as well. Then I begin to wonder just how long it’s gonna be before I get a friend request from this person. After all, even though they knew I wanted nothing to do with them years ago, they still did everything they could to remind me they were there for quite some time.  Not that I would accept a request should it come, but if it does, I know I’m gonna lose my shit and that has me pretty freaked out, too.

I’m curious to know why Facebook decided that the suggestion was a feature they wanted to make mandatory. I mean, you can turn off other features, why not the suggestions? I figured out a way to get Facebook to stop using my e-mail contacts to make suggestions with, but the mutual friends suggestions don’t seem to have a turn off option. Did it never cross their minds that this feature would wind up suggesting friends to people who wish that suggestion were dead or worse? Did they not realize that at some point, someone would wind up getting a suggestion that could send them over the edge?

So, tell me intarwebs, have you ever gotten a friend suggestion from Facebook that has confused the shit out of you? Made you wonder how the hell Facebook knew that you knew of that person? Made you feel like going to the higher-ups at Facebook and asking that they pay for any and all psychiatric visits from that point forth?


In which people piss me off a bit

Recently, I’ve noticed that many of my Facebook friends have become fans of making drug testing mandatory for receiving food stamps. (Or they’ve joined a group about it. Something like that.) I kinda understand why they would feel drug testing would be a good thing. I mean, you’re supposed to pass a drug test to get a job (if that particular job decides to make that a requirement, at least) and if you’re applying to get help from the government to feed yourself and/or your family, you really shouldn’t be spending your money to get high. Totally agree. I decided that I wanted to see what was being posted before I decided whether or not to join the masses and let all The Facebook World® know that I wanted people to piss in a cup in order to qualify for government assistance.

After reading through the posts, I decided that I wanted to part of it. I had gone to this “group” or whatever, hoping to see people voicing their concern that people were spending their money on drugs instead of food for their kids and that was why they thought it was a good idea to do piss tests. Or something to that effect, anyway. What I saw instead, were people bitching about how they saw such-and-such type of person paying for their food with a Bridge Card (food stamp card) and then loading the food into a brand new Cadillac. Or they saw someone paying for their food with a Bridge Card and they were wearing nice clothes. I even saw people who were pissed off at what type of food was being purchased with welfare funds.

Here’s why I have an issue with this.

There is nothing anywhere that states you do not qualify for welfare if you have a nice car, nice clothes, etc. If you had a good paying job that allowed you to buy such things before you needed help, should you have to give them up cuzz you find yourself in a situation you didn’t think you’d wind up in? Case in point – Over the last couple of years, countless people have lost their income. People who worked at McDonald’s up to CEOs of fortune 500 companies. Should the person who had a good job have to sell their clothes simply cuzz they’ve lost their job? If someone owns a nice car (and by owns, I mean has paid it off or has a reasonable payment) and suddenly finds themselves unable to stretch their money to get enough groceries for a month be forced to get rid of their car cuzz some “hard-working American” feels like they should be able to have the car?

I’ve never understood how someone can decide that another person shouldn’t have something due to their perceived circumstance. I have a pretty difficult time paying my bills since the economy decided to take a shit. I lost a good paying job and my family lost 1 of the 2 sources of income that we had. However, I still have some of the nice things that were purchased prior to falling on such difficult times. Does that mean that I shouldn’t receive help if I need it? (Trust me, pawning things was not an option simply due to the pawn shops around me sucking hard-core.) I still have some nice looking clothes from when I could afford to shop for clothes. Since I can’t afford to do that anymore, does that mean I should dress in rags to make the people around me feel like I’m worthy of government assistance? My son’s grandparents buy his clothes for him since I can’t afford to and he gets some damned nice things from them. Should I not allow him to have them so that a “hard-working American” can decide that I’m allowed to use my Bridge Card?

Fuck that. Just cuzz you’re bothered by someone’s outside appearance does NOT mean that you should be able to dictate what they’re worthy of receiving. Do I think people should have to pass a drug test to receive government benefits? Yes and no. Yes, cuzz if you’re able to pass one for work, you should have no problem passing one to qualify for assistance. And, really? If you’ve got money to blow on drugs, you don’t need assistance. HOWEVER. (And that’s capitalized for a reason.) There needs to be documentation and laws put into place with regard to what is given to someone medically. Like, in Michigan, medicinal marijuana is legal now. As long as you have a valid prescription, you should be able to piss dirty and not have it affect you. The same goes for hardcore narcotics. As long as you have a VALID prescription, then nothing should happen to take benefits away for testing dirty. In this group that I referred to? They don’t seem to care if you’re on aspirin or dillaudid. If you test dirty for anything, you shouldn’t be able to get assistance. I don’t understand that. And it pisses me off simply for the fact that no one can know the entire story behind why anyone needs help for anything unless they actually ARE that person. No one seems to give a shit about that, though. Everyone knows what’s best for everybody else. I have to admit that I’m guilty of thinking I know what’s best for other people, too. I try not to be that way, but sometimes it just happens and I spout off with out really thinking too much about it. I’ve been trying to work on that, but no one is perfect.

I realize that not everyone in that group or who think drug testing should be mandatory are as close minded as some of the remarks I saw and I’m not stupid enough to think that everyone who receives assistance isn’t cheating the system. Far from it. Even if I had been that naïve at one point, damned near a decade of living where I do has brought me down to Earth. I just think that everyone needs to take a step back and think before they start spouting out that people must be drug addicts cuzz they appear to have nice things and have government assistance. For every person that’s out there purposefully fucking over the system, there’s a person who’s working their ass off and legitimately needs the help.

In which I think I met my guardian angel

Today I figured that I’d have a helluva time driving home. I was completely prepared to deal with idiots driving in snow, trying to kill me cuzz they just can’t remember how to drive in tons of snow. I was not disappointed. It’s what happened when I got OUT of my car that has me so pissed off.

I’m still shaking. Not as badly, but still shaking, so you know what happened CANNOT be good.

I had to make a detour on my way home so I could get some gas money from my mommy. Yeah, I know. Almost 30 years old and my mom still makes sure I have gas money when I need it. I hate having to ask, but I’m glad that she can help me. It’s only part of what makes my mommy awesome. 🙂

So, I get the gas money and venture onto the expressway. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I was tired of driving the back roads. It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t go over 55MPH, even though everyone else was passing me. I know what my car can and can’t handle and I don’t like to push it. Call me crazy, but actually getting to my destination with my car and myself intact are kinda top priority when I’m driving. When I got to my exit, I was pretty sure the guy behind me was gonna ass pack my car, which, again, I completely expected. I was glad that he didn’t and continued on my way to the gas station. I got my gas and went inside so I could pay for it. I was in a perfectly FINE mood. Not overly happy, not pissed off. Just F-I-N-E fine.

I got in line and was standing there for a minute or so along with everyone else. You know, doing what you’re supposed to do when there’s more than one person trying to pay for something. I think I was looking at some display or something cuzz what happened next, I completely did NOT see coming.

One second, I was standing there, minding my own business. The next I was literally hip checked to the ground.

Are you as shocked as I was and still kinda am?

My first thought was to get up off the ground. I wasn’t hurt, really, but I was shocked and kinda embarrassed. I’m not a small girl by any means, and it takes quite a bit of force to knock me on my ass when I’m sober. As I was getting up off the ground, I looked to see what or who had knocked me over. It was some dude, maybe a little bit taller than me, definitely my age or older. In other words, someone who should’ve known enough to either apologize for knocking me over or, oh I don’t know, maybe NOT have knocked me over to begin with.

I could understand if maybe he slipped. The floor was wet and people slip all the time. If that were the case, though, he wouldn’t have shot me a dirty look. The person behind me must have either been as shocked and angered as I was or seen the Death Look of Death® on my face cuzz when I stood up, there was immediately an arm across my chest, making sure that if I moved,I wouldn’t be doing so with out him.

Now, I’m glad that he held me back. Then, not so much.

The dude that knocked me over went to the other cashier before I could completely get my balance, so he was well out of my reach by the time the guy behind me put his arm in front of me. No one was saying anything and the cashiers were trying to ring everyone up and get people moving again. The dude who knocked me over acted like nothing had happened and was shooting the cashier a nasty look for, what I can only assume, was his distaste that she hadn’t already had him rang up and on his way.

This left me time to let him know exactly what I thought about his little stunt.

Hoe.Lee.Shit. I haven’t unleashed on someone like that in a long, LONG time. I think that even those of you who’ve seen me go full tilt on someone would’ve been a little surprised by how loud I was. I can’t remember everything that I said, but by the time the dude had paid for whatever he had to pay for, he literally ran out the door.

I kinda stood there for a minute, and then I stepped out of line to let everyone else through. I didn’t have anywhere to be at any certain time and I was PISSED. The guy behind me stood with me for a second and then got back in line. He kept glancing back at me, I assume to make sure I was ok, but I don’t really know. Even though he held me back and stepped out of line with me, he never said anything. While I saw other people standing there with their mouths open like they couldn’t believe what had happened, he was completely clam the entire time.

Had he not put his arm in front of me, I think I might’ve tried to kick that dude’s ass. And THAT, I’m pretty certain, would have landed me in jail.

Someone didn’t want me kicking that guy’s ass, though I’m sure I’m not the only one who thought he deserved it. I’m pretty sure I met my guardian angel today.

(You’ll have to excuse any spelling errors in this. The spell check isn’t working and I simply do not feel like putting this into Word to check it. Ok, so I can’t find Word on this computer and it’s entirely possible that I can’t find it cuzz it isn’t here. Either way, there will probably be tons of errors. Oops?)

Karaoke Super Star

So, I’ve been sitting here at work, on what is normally one of my nights off, and I’m singing along with my MP3 player cuzz, really? What the hell else am I gonna do when I’m the only one awake? And I remembered being told one night that I wasn’t singing a song correctly when I was out with some friends singing karaoke.

A little back story might be in order here. Now, I will never claim to have any real vocal training beyond high school. I was involved in basic music classes throughout elementary and junior high and when I got to high school, I was asked to be part of the Choir, which was an invitation only kinda thing. Beyond that, I have stage experience through community theater programs. Pretty standard for not shelling out any money for training. Even with that minor experience, I know that I can carry a tune and unless I’m sick or really drunk, I pretty much can stay on key.

Back to my thought. Or whatever.

So this guy yelled up to me from the bar that I needed to drop mu voice lower and, honestly? It kinda pissed me off a little. I wasn’t drunk when this happened, so I know that I was singing just fine. The only difference? I was up an octave. I was still singing the song correctly, I just decided to use my singing voice as opposed to my Kill Your Mother Death Metal Growl®. (Just an FYI on that growl – I suck at it. A lot. Like, A LOT a lot. Not something I typically do in public.) Maybe the guy thought I was screwing the song up, who knows? I just find it comical that there is SO MUCH criticism in karaoke bars, where it’s pretty much a given that a majority of the people singing are completely tone-deaf.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been known to critique people. When my friend, Becky, does her warm up song, I’m always telling her she needs to sing a half-step higher. She usually works it out by the second verse and everything is fine. And I may or may not say that I can sing better than whomever is on the stage now and again. I might even go so far as to talk shit about someone who’s singing loudly enough for them to hear me and shoot me dirty looks as I’m staring at them, thinking that will get me to shut the hell up already, but really? Has just pissed me off and made me feel like kicking their ass for making eye contact. (Heh. Yeah… I was pretty wasted that night. I’m sure I could’ve kicked that chick’s ass if I needed to, but I really shouldn’t have been such an asshole. That one? COMPLETELY my bad.)

I’m curious to know if this is something that happens in karaoke bars all over the place or if it’s just a Flint thing. I can’t remember if I’ve ever sang karaoke any where OTHER than Flint, so I really don’t know. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if it is just something that happens around here, since there are a lot of hostile people inhabiting this area, but somehow I’m thinking that it’s not. Anyone care to share some insight?

The reason I’m so curious at the random hour is that my birthday is coming up (I think I may have mentioned that once or twice) and I typically end up at a karaoke bar so I can sing till my little heart’s content. Or as often as the karaoke dude will let me. So, tell me your stories. Anyone you know talk a lot of shit at these places? Are YOU one of the shit talkers? Has anyone ever yelled instructions up to the stage so you “sound better”?

In which I tell you about things that annoy me

So, I think it’s safe to assume that everyone has a long list of things that just irk the hell out them. Whether it’s listening to someone cracking their knuckles or having to pick up after someone who should be MORE THAN CAPABLE of picking up after themselves, there’s SOMETHING that annoys everyone on the planet. And if you try to tell me that you don’t get annoyed by anything? Well, I’m gonna tell you straight to your face that you’re full of shit and you owe me $1 for lying to me.

Sometimes I think that I might have a longer list of annoyances than most people. I’m not sure if that comes from having to deal with more shit than most people or if it’s just cuzz I’m bitchier than most people, but the fact remains that there are TONS of things that annoy me. Since I happen to be annoyed right this very second, I have decided to blog about it. It’s what I do now people.


I’ve been mildly annoyed all day cuzz I’ve been in more pain than normal. I don’t like hobbling around like a little old lady. Thankfully by the time I got to work tonight, I wasn’t hobbling as much as I had been earlier. Once I arrived at work, I became even more annoyed cuzz I realized that even though I said more than once that I needed to remember to bring food to work, I forgot. AGAIN. That meant that I would have to go 12 hours with out anything other than whatever I ate before I left. It’s not like I’m gonna wither away and die if I don’t eat for 12 hours, but it’s damn annoying to feel hunger pains due to no other reason that your own forgetfulness, ya know? It just happened to be my good luck that one of the guys working tonight had a shit ton of food left from what his wife brought up for him and he was willing to share. I had to overlook the fact that he had such bad gas that it actually drifted up and stunk up the bat cave, but I was cool with it cuzz his wife? PHENOMENAL cook.

So, things were going well for most of the shift. Got to watch some cartoons, play some Bejeweled and I got to send my crews on a few calls.  Everyone was happy.

Then I began to get annoyed all over again. See, I’m used to the computer at home moving faster than I can think, depending on whether I’ve taken my sleeping pills, so when I get to work and the computer that we’re allowed to play on the intarwebz with is slow, I get annoyed. (Even as I type, I’m getting pissy cuzz I’m typing faster than the words are showing up and when I make a mistake and have to hit backspace? I wind up hitting it too many times and deleting letters I don’t mean to.) I saw that my cousin had decided to make me her bitch in Bejeweled, so I was trying to defend my honor. The computer is in cahoots with my cousin, I think, cuzz it kept freezing for a second or two and completely screwing up my game. Which led to me becoming agitated. (Yes, I know that I am lucky to have a computer at work that I can screw around on and blahblahblah. Don’t lecture me.)

Can you tell I’m still a little keyed up?

In the next half hour or so, I’m sure I’m gonna get even more annoyed when I have to go around and do my little cleaning jobs. Normally, it doesn’t bother me at all to have to do the little chores that need done around the office. Except for the dishes. It doesn’t matter where I am or how good of a mood I’m in, if I have to wash dishes – especially by hand – I will instantly be annoyed and possibly pissed off. I’ve always hated washing dishes, there’s just no getting around that one. And it’s not like there’s a lot to do around here. Brew up coffee, wash the fucking dishes, change the garbage, vacuum and dust. Nothing that can’t be taken care of in about 15 minutes. I’m still hobbling around a bit, which is gonna slow me down and contribute a bit to the pain, so that’s what will be annoying me then. :-/

And all that is just the shit that’s annoyed me recently! I also get perturbed when people chew with their mouths open (which Greg and Alex do on the regular to see how long it takes before I shoot them the Death Look Of Death®)… Let me put this into list form. It’ll be easier that way.

Things That Annoy The Piss Outta Me

(I kinda want to sign it “by Jack Handy”.)

-People who get too close to me

-People who think it’s ok to touch me when they have no idea who I am

-When someone refuses to listen to me, regardless of how many times I tell them something or how much I dumb it down

-Not being able to pee without being interrupted (This one is more of a work thing now that my kidling is no longer a toddler)

-Having to repeat myself more than once

-Being tailgated

-Being behind someone who insists on driving under the speed limit

-People not flushing the toilet after every use (I actually used to get after Alex for this all the time until I realized that my Harley Jane had taught herself how to use the toilet. She was my cat. I have pictures.)

-Not being able to hear cuzz someone is either talking, has the sound up on the computer or some other noise making device, or is just being loud in general

-People that get after me for something that I’ve written sarcastically after I’ve explained that it was sarcasm/a joke/not to be taken seriously. You get 1 cuzz there’s no sarcasm font on the computer yet, but after I’ve told you what I meant, don’t come after me a second time. That’s a good way to get cut

-People who tell me that I have shitty taste in music. Just cuzz I like something that you don’t, don’t assume that I have shitty taste. Open your mind or, oh I don’t know, NOT SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY TASTE IN MUSIC. Doesn’t seem like that’s a hard thing, but I must be wrong cuzz it happens ALL.THE.TIME.

I think I’m gonna stop there. I’m starting to get all full of The Attitude® and have noticed that I’m moving my head around while I type like I’m yelling at someone. That’s probably a sign that I need to quit. Besides, I have about 5 minutes before I need to start my hobbling and I’ve still gotta spell check this bitch. 😛

So tell me intarwebz, what gets under you skin? Ruffles your feathers? Makes you think that you might just be able to go on a stabbing spree and not feel all that bad about it? 😀

The one where I bitch about how much it sucks to be me

Except not. Don’t get me wrong, I’m gonna totally be bitching about stuff that I have to deal with that sucks and even pisses me off, but even though I have to deal with it and it stresses me out and all that happy horse shit, I completely realize that there are other people dealing with far worse things. So, really? I know it doesn’t suck to be me. It’s merely inconvenient sometimes.

Now, without further adieu, ON TO THE BITCHING!!! 😀

Now, some of you may or may not know that I deal with chronic pain on a daily basis. Going on 7 years or so now, I’ve been in pain EVERY.SINGLE.DAY. There is no reprieve. The only semi-relief I get is the fact that I can walk most days and seem to be ok. Today is looking to NOT be one of those days and it’s pissing me off.

Just a little history, in case you’re curious. If not, skip this part. Back when my ex-husband was in the ARMY, I started getting sharp pains in the lower right quadrant of my abdomen. After a week, I realized that the pain had never completely gone away, just got less intense. That was when I started going to doctors to see what the hell was going on. (This is either 2002 or 2003. I’m having some trouble remembering exactly right now.) Here I am in 2010 and I still don’t have a definite answer as to what’s going on. I’ve been diagnosed with PCOS, Endometriosis, Diverticulosis (or Diverticulitis, I can never remember which it is) and Interstitial Cystitis. ALL of which can cause intense abdominal pain.

Fucking awesome, right?

Anyway, since being diagnosed with all of those oh-so-fun things, I’ve been placed on a variety of pain killers and been treated a variety of ways, all while still undergoing testing to determine what exactly is going on. (Seems that while all of those diagnoses can cause pain, NONE of them should be causing me the type and strength pain of I’ve been dealing with. Yeah… I don’t quite get it, either.) When I lost my job with the hospital ambulance service and lost my insurance, any and all testing and prescriptions stopped as I lost my medical insurance. Some of you may remember back about a year and a half ago when I was bald? Yeah, that was due to a prescription I was on.)

Fast forward to now. I have medical insurance now and have had it for almost a year. I have yet to actually start seeing a doctor again due to either A- never having the money to cover my co-pays, B- Not knowing who the hell my doctor actually IS cuzz they left the practice and another took their place or C- not being able to actually GET to the office. (As I’ve said before, 2009 was a pretty shitty year.) I haven’t had an active prescription for pain killers since August 2008 and I haven’t undergone any testing since roughly the same time.

And now I get to the bitching part. You can continue reading now if you skipped over the ginormous history lesson I just gave you. Who knows? There may come a time when you actually may need to be well versed in all of my medical bullshit and you’ll be HAPPY you read all that! Probably not, but play along. It’s more fun that way.

So, since I happened to have gotten tired of being poked and prodded, I’ve stalled going back to the doctor. Granted the 3 reasons listed above were pretty damned good for not going, there may have been a time or two when I had no excuse to not go other than I was scared and didn’t want to. Like I said, it’s been over a year since I’ve had an active prescription for pain meds and I’d be lying if I said that I wasn’t concerned about how I might be treated.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve heard nothing but good things about this doctor that has taken the place of the one I used to see. What worries me is that I might go in there and be treated like one of those people. The people who have been labeled drug seekers for whatever reason. Usually, the people who are labeled drug seekers have earned the title. They may have earned it by visiting the ER one too many times saying that their in *insert type of pain here* and they need help. Maybe they earned it by trying to get their pain meds refilled earlier than they should be. Maybe they visited multiple ERs in search of drugs. Whatever the reason, once you’re labeled a drug seeker, it’s hard to shake.

Now, to my knowledge, I’ve yet to earn that title. I ran out of my meds early once due to being so spectacularly graceful. I’ve learned to close the drain if I’m going to open any pill bottles near a sink. o_O Other than that, I’ve never tried to refill anything early, I’ve never refused any test or treatment that has been thrown my way, I’ve never gone to multiple ERs or doctors in order to get more pills… I should be all good as far as being a patient is concerned. However, I had an experience about 2 or so years ago that has made me very leery of telling any doctor that I’m in pain.

So, the time that I lost most of my pain pills down the drain cuzz I’m full of The Awesome? Well, I wasn’t able to get an appointment to see my doctor until 2 weeks after cuzz the scheduling people in the office didn’t seem to understand that I was full on admitting that I screwed up and ran out of my pills early. Rather they seemed to think that I had run out early cuzz I have taken them all and was now trying to get more. (An entire months worth of Dilaudid in a week? Heh. If they hadn’t gone down my drain, I would have had quite a nice little money ball in my hands.)

So, I had been with out my pain meds for about a week and a half and still had, like, another week to go before I saw the doctor so I could explain what happened and see about maybe getting a refill or sample of something until my insurance would approve a refill. While I was at work, the pain that I had been tolerating decided that it wanted to be the center of attention and I wound up not being able to walk by the time I was supposed to leave. I was able to get a hold of the answering service for my doctor and get permission to go to the ER at one of the satellites of the main hospital that I worked at. Awesome.

One of the medics wheeled me down in my office chair, which made me turn red with embarrassment and giggle a little cuzz that’s one of the things I do when I’m nervous. Since I couldn’t smoke inside, chain-smoking was out of the question, so giggling was pretty much all I had. By the time we got down to the ER patient intake place, I wasn’t giggling anymore, which was probably a good thing. They put a bracelet on me and since it wasn’t busy right then, they wheeled me into triage.

That’s where things got interesting.

The nurse asked my name and I told her like I was supposed to. Nothing weird there. She asked to see my bracelet so she could make sure she had the spelling correct and as she was filling in my information, she asked me a question. She asked if So-and-so was my father. When I said that he was, she decided to tell me how she knew him. Seems she had treated him 20-some years before for chronic migraines.

Now, if you know ANYTHING about HIPAA laws, you know that she was breaking pretty much every one of them at this point.

I listened to her talk and didn’t really say anything. She kept going on and on about how she thought he was a nice guy and that she would sometimes see him several times a week in the ER, trying to get help for his migraines. She pretty much talked about him the entire time I was with her.

I waited in the room for at least an hour before the doctor came back to see me. Remember when I said it wasn’t busy? As far as I know, it didn’t get busy in the time it took me to go from triage to the room to wait, so there was really no reason for it to take the doctor so long to get back to see me. I was annoyed, but I didn’t act like it cuzz I know things could have changed and gotten busy or he could’ve been giving a report or any number of other things could have happened that would have delayed him.

When he got in there, he asked me why I wasn’t in a gown. I told him that I was told I didn’t need to be in a gown. He yelled at me a little about needing to give me an exam and told me to change. I did as I was told and then waited for another 30 minutes.

When he came in the second time, Greg and Alex were there. He asked me about what was going on and I explained everything. He looked at me and asked me, with a straight face, why I hadn’t had a hysterectomy. I told him he needed to ask my doctors that cuzz I had no clue. I’d been telling every doctor I came across since the pain started that I would be more than willing to get a hysterectomy, but I’m always told that I’m “too young” and that I’m going to want “more and more babies”.


At that point, he told me to lay down and he pressed on my stomach. I told Greg to take Alex out to the waiting room, thinking that it would be kinda awkward for him to be in the room while I was having one of those oh-so-lovely girly exams. The doctor said there was no need. He was ordering a blood test to make sure that I didn’t have ANY drugs in my system and depending on the outcome, he’d be back to maybe give me some pain medication. When I stared at him like he had just took a massive shit right then and there, he told me that he suspected I was a drug seeker and that there had been an indication in my chart that there was a “history”. (Yeah, he actually made air quotes.)

By that point, I was so completely frustrated and in so much fucking pain, that I started crying. Anyone who knows me knows that tears in public are NOT an option. Unless I’m drunk, in which case once they start, they may not stop.

Another 45 minutes later, my drug test came back fine, he gave me a shot of Dilaudid and made sure Greg had the car keys.

I can only assume that the reference in my chart came from the nurse who asked me about my father. Before that, the only time I had been to that ER was when one of the EMTs decided to try to kill me by exploding a fire extinguisher at me, so there would have been nothing there about me seeking drugs for pain. I had only been to ANY ER for pain one time previously and that had been at least a year before I started working where I was. I did EVERYTHING I was asked to by all of my doctors, so there would be nothing in any medical chart saying that I was a drug seeker. The only option left would be that nurse.

Ever since then, I’ve been scared to death that I’m gonna be labeled a seeker. And that makes me scared to even go see the new doctor that took over the practice I go to. After that, I was nervous every time I had to refill my prescription. Scared that the pharmacist was going to tell me that I wouldn’t be able to get my meds cuzz a red flag had popped up by my name.

Maybe I’ll have gotten over it by Monday and I’ll call and see about maybe getting in that morning, if possible. As it is, I can’t stand up straight right now. If this continues, I may end up in the ER again. I doubt it, though.

Once a seeker, always a seeker, right?

I’ve been thinking some of suicide,
But there’s bars out here for miles…

-Dear Chicago by Ryan Adams (Calm down, it’s just the lyric that stuck in my head this morning.)

On the subject of song lyrics and nostalgia

So, I find that people often turn to me when they can’t remember the lyrics to a song or if maybe they can remember the lyrics, but just not the name. I do lovingly refer to myself as a Lyrics Bitch from time to time. More often than not, I’m that friend that tells you to shut up during a certain point in a song so as not to miss whatever part I happen to be in love with.

I’ve been that way for as long as I can remember. More often than not, I’d rather have a CD playing than have the TV on, especially at work. (Hell, as I type this, I’ve hijacked the speakers from my work computer and am listening to my MP3 player.) For a long time, I couldn’t sleep with out the radio playing. More often than not, it would be a CD that I couldn’t stop listening to rather than an actual radio station, but the point is I couldn’t sleep unless I had music playing. My son is the same way and we argue every night at bedtime about how loud it should be. It annoys the hell out of me to have to tell him that he doesn’t need it really loud to go to sleep, but it makes me smile that he seems to love music as much as I do.

One thing that I’ve always noticed about music is the way that it seems to take me back to certain points in my life with just a few words. There are SO MANY SONGS that do that to me, and I’m sure I’m not the only one. I bet you can name one song right off the top of your head that makes you just sit back and think to something that’s happened in your past, good or bad.

Everlong by Foo Fighters

Independence Day by Ani DiFranco

Don’t Speak by No Doubt

The District Sleeps Alone Tonight by The Postal Service

Man The You Fear by Marylin Manson

Those are just a few of the songs that pop into my head that can instantly take me back to some point in my life that seemed like it was the most important or so completely insignificant that it surprises me to remember it. Doesn’t matter if how small or huge the moment was, chances are really good that when I hear certain lyrics, I’m daydreaming.

And it’s almost never the main hook of a song that gets me. Usually, it’s just a random lyric in the song that stands out to me and takes on its own meaning.

Did I ever tell you how I stopped eating

When you stopped calling me

And I was cramped up and shitting rivers for weeks

And pretending that I was finally free…

Independence Day by Ani DiFranco

That’s from the second verse, I think? My point is that it’s not the chorus, which I’ve noticed over the years is the part of a song most people think about when they’re trying to remember the name of a song or when they associate a song with something from their past. Like the first time they made out with that great guy/girl in high school, that kind of shit. I’ve always thought that maybe I was odd for not picking out main parts of songs when I thought back, but I’m willing to bet that I’m not the only one out there who does this. I think that a lot more people pick out random parts in songs that trigger memories, but when they talk about it (if they do), they refer to a more identifiable part so whomever they’re sharing with will know what they’re talking about.

Then again, I could be talking completely out of my ass here and I wouldn’t know the difference. Heh.

So, I’ve been sitting here for most of my shift, listening to songs and looking at old pictures that friends have up on Facebook and thinking about these memory triggers. Of course, this is after I’ve gotten all nostalgic and realized what I was doing. And then I got to thinking about how I notice that I do this around the same time frame every year. Not getting all nostalgic while listening to music, I do that all the damned time. I meant that I noticed that I was getting that way. Ugh, I don’t even know if that made any sense.

Basically, my birthday is coming up and I notice that around my birthday, I tend to get more nostalgic than usual. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my birthday marks more time passing me by. Maybe it’s the fact that it makes me realize just how much I miss the people who I don’t see as often as I used to, if ever at all.

Or, it’s just me getting pissy about getting older.

Hell, I can’t even remember what the point of writing all this out was. I had some grand revelation that I needed to write about this shit and make a point or something and now I don’t even know what the hell I was trying to say. I’m so awesome. 😛

So tell me intarwebz, when a song gets you all emo and flash-back-y, is it the more recognizable parts of the song that get to you or is it just some random lyric that sticks to you? And I’m really curious to know what songs and/or lyrics get to you.

Pretending there’s glamour and candelabra
When you’re drinking by candlelight…

-This Place Is A Prison by The Postal Service
Everything you ever touched is undisturbed and hangs out
Like crime scene evidence undisturbed in dust
I don’t dare touch anything because it’s evidence of us
And it means everything
Well sort of…

-Now That You’re Gone by Ryan Adams

(I simply adore Ryan Adams. His songs ALL seem to get to me.)

I would’ve held your mother’s hand
On the day you was born
She runs through my veins
Like a long black river and rattles my cage
Like a thunderstorm
Oh, my soul…

-How Do You Keep Love Alive by Ryan Adams

I still press your letters to my lips
And cherish them in parts of me that savor every kiss…

-Snuff by Slipknot

And I’m gonna stop there cuzz I could literally go on quoting song lyrics until I have to punch out at 0800. Oh, ok. One more. This will be the last one.

Pick a song and sing a yellow nectarine
Take a bath, I’ll drink the water that you leave
If you should die before me
Ask if you can bring a friend
Pick a flower, hold your breath and drift away…

-Still Remains by Stone Temple Pilots

Now, share your songs with me. 🙂