For My Next Trick, The UHAUL Backflip!

So I know I said my next post would be about the wonders of Myspace, but that's been postponed for a few days. Read on. You'll see why.

On Wednesday, Dave and I were supposed to do the final packing and moving of our apartment. I reserved one of those huge UHAUL trucks, you know, the 26' one that's like four feet off the ground. We go to the apartment, start throwing crap into boxes and moving out the last of the furniture. We get everything but maybe a quarter of the apartment packed and stowed in the UHAUL before Dave has had enough and calls it quits. We head over to the house, pull up in front, and start using the dolley to ferry boxes from the back of the truck to the garage for sorting.

OK. So there wasn't really any "we" to the moving. It was really Dave doing all the hard work. Come on. I'm a supervisor. We all know that....

So Dave and I are in the back of the truck, trying to figure out which boxes we'll take in the house tonight and which ones can wait. I'm holding a chair in my hands, walking backwards as I talk, completely oblivious to the impending danger. Of course, Dave had already warned me that I was going to hurt myself, but did I listen? Uh, no. And why not do you ask? Well, duh, because I, like, know everything. Dave, on the other hand, is fully aware of what a walking nightmare I am. Seriously, I live Murphy's Law every day. I fall out of showers, trip down steps, cut myself in the kitchen, burn myself while cooking, rip off nails doing laundry or random cleaning--hell, I cracked my toenail in half moving a love seat!

Anywho--I'm walking backwards, holding one of our dining room chairs. Dave is facing the front of the truck, trying to find the stack of kitchen boxes. He turns around to tell me something, and just as an expression of sheer terror registers on his face, I feel imbalanced. Like an idiot, I panic and stiffen, and that's all it takes for me to go tumbling over the edge, lime green and pink kangaROOS futilely scraping against metal, chair still clutched to my chest. I have enough sense not to put my hands down to break my fall because I need my fingers to make a living. My fat ass bears the brunt of the fall, but oddly enough, it's not as padded as one might assume. My head whips back and CRACK! I'm out.

It's all blurry from that point on... Ever the gallant knight, Dave rushes down the ramp. I'm writhing in blinding pain, but refusing an ambulance. (I used to work in one and have a slight aversion to all things EMS.) Driving to the Med, sitting, waiting, talking to nurses and doctors, tests, thirst, drowsiness, grumpiness. It was super late before we got the all clear to head home. I had a headache, bruised pride, and a sore ass.

'Course, the sore ass may have been from the BEND OVER & TAKE IT treatment our insurance company gave us. I mean, seriously, what a crock of shit. Last year, Dave's company trotted out this "amazing" High Deductible Health Saving's plan, highlighting alll of the great features but conveniently forgetting to provide any real information. They were all, "Oh, you're insurance will continue to be free, but you'll have to pay $60/month for your spouse. If you stay on your current plan, you'll have to pay for both. Oh, and look! We're even seeding your health savings account!"

Except that they don't really. They made it seem like they would give the full $1500 (or whatever the amount was--I can't remember. foggy memory and all) at the same time, but they only provided a portion with the remainder deposited in $62 increments. WTF? So you have to pay for all of your health care until you meet your deductible which is fair enough. Dave's deductible was 1500, but now that we're married, it jumped to 3000 or 3500. That wouldn't be so bad, but oh, wait! The prescription coverage on this new plan (which, by the way, is NOTHING like what Dave was quoted prior to switching) fucking sucks. And that's putting it mildly. It's no secret that Dave's on all kinds of meds to control his diabetes, and uh, yeah, that crap ain't cheap. And let's not even begin to discuss how our insurance doesn't even cover a portion of any of the meds I will need to address premature ovarian failure and PCOS.

Sigh.

Anyways... Dave had to miss his Thursday shift. I felt really bad about that. He's the type of guy who, like, NEVER calls in sick and when he does, he feels guilty. Me? I'm normal, you know, the type of person who seizes every chance to call in sick and enjoys every minute like the last day on earth.

I feel fine now, a little achey and sort of mentally scattered, but whatever. It'll correct itself eventually--I hope. I've sort of got two novellas and a full length literay YA to finish by, oh, September 1st.

Oh, yeah! And for all my fellow recent brides and/or brides-to-be, have you gotten that scamming phone call from Simplicty Brides??? I've gotten four calls from them since 1 pm and it's only 5 o'clock now! WTF, right? I finally answered this last time. It's basically this lady who's all, "You've won a free trip!" But then she starts the spiel, and immediately, you're hit by that that oh-so-familiar scam scent that only a whiff of Vieux Boulogne can replicate. Mid-spiel, I told her not to call again and hung up. A quick Google search and I realized what a good move I made. This company is super pushy and particularly vile.

It's a company called Carico/Royal Prestige/Integra Marketing Group/Simplicty Gourmet/Simplicty Bride/World Adventures Travel/Pro Health Ultra who market their pots and pans and such to newly engaged and married couples. They get our info from bridal shows, websites, and shops. How it works is this:

1) Phone call. Invite to a cooking show at local hotel.
2) Attend cooking show. Listen to "your pans are killing you" speech Pressure to buy $1600-3500 worth of pans. Sign contract and receive travel voucher to 2.5 start hotel--if you're lucky.
3) Panic. Decide to cancel pan contract--but, oh no! There is no contact number!! 3 days pass and you're certifiably Shit Outta Luck.

You should read some of these horror stories!! Consumer News, Brides.Com Forum, Rip Off Report.

Isn't it sick how they try to rip off people who are getting married or just married? You should see this list of Bridal Scams! Free cruises, honeymoons, tuxes, shopping sprees--whatever. I never buy into that crap. I'm super lucky Mom raised me to be skeptical of too-good-to-be-true stuff.

OK. Enough blogging. Time to give Bos a bath b/c PEE-EWWW! He has reached a whole new level of stank today from playing outside. By the way, while trying to write this post, I fought with and removed from Bosley's mouth: a DVD remote, two handfuls of comforter stuffing, an empty Dr. Pepper can that he stole from the table, and my tiny black Sony Ericsson cell.