Bittersweet

So life here has been overwhelming. We've got sick grandparents on both sides. My sister was diagnosed with asthma and probably has some kind of cardiac problem too. (This seems to be a trend in my family--late onset cardiac issues. Weird, huh?) My youngest brother got into a spot of legal trouble. Okay, not a spot. He stumbled into a huge fucking swampland of likely felonious, hopefully only misdemeanor trouble.

My dad had to go in for some cardiac procedures including a pair of stents in the vessels heading down to his legs. I'm terrified this is just the first of many similar procedures for him. I watched Apa, my paternal grandfather, lose both of his legs to diabetes--and I just can't imagine watching Daddy go through the same thing. It's really a sobering thought.

I'm also worried about my mom. She's the one trying to juggle all this madness at home. She's had serious heart problems in the past (heart attacks, hardening of the cardiac muscle and vessels) so I'm always secretly freaking the fuck out about her. I'm a notorious secret worrier. I worry about everyone and everything. It's so taxing.

Here at home Dave and I are coming to grips with the likelihood that we'll never have a biological child of our own. It's been so hard for me. I try to be, you know, all strong and shit but, Jesus, this has been rough. I feel so betrayed and angry. I worked so hard to get in shape. I took all the fucking meds and denied myself all the yummy little treats I desperately craved. I made a complete ass of myself with all those ridiculous post sex rituals, desperate to increase the chances of just one little spermie making its way to one of my eggs.

And nothing. I had one really good cycle after coming off birth control pills to calm my ovaries. I tried not to get my hopes up but, dudes, it was a textbook ovulatory cycle. I had all the changes you're taught to look for when doing fertility charting: the spiking temps, the EWCM, etc. I can't even find the words to describe what it felt like to sit there in our bathroom, pissing on sticks, and hoping, praying that maybe this time... But no.

I've done a lot of crying lately. In a way, it feels really good to just wail and get it out. There's really not much else you can do. You'd think I'd want to be around my family at a time like this, but, honestly, I'm sort of relieved Dave and I didn't have the traveling budget or the days off at work to make the trip. I just can't do it right now. I can't be around all these people who love us and pretend that everything is all right. It's not. I also don't feel comfortable talking to my extended family about our infertility struggle. I don't even know how many of them would even know why I'm so distraught lately.

And all the kids and *surprise* pregnancy announcements at family functions... I was talking to Mom on Christmas Day and there were all these babies in the background. Joey has a handful of friends with kids and Mom just dotes on all of them. After that phone call I felt like absolute crap. I just kept thinking, Jesus, I can't even give my mom grandkids. They've got to settle for surrogate grandbabies.

And, yes, obviously I know my mom wasn't in any way, shape, or form trying to insinuate that but when you're dealing with infertility, you tend to focus on weird crap like that. Unfortunately, I've known women for whom that's been absolutely true. People can be so cruel when it comes to infertility.

It's strange but generally I'm totally okay around kids. You'd think I'd be a sobbing, slobbering fool but shockingly I'm fine. On Dave's birthday, we were put in the family section at Olive Garden. We were surrounded by babies and toddlers and older kids and happy families. It didn't faze me. Well, I wished that one set of kids would have stopped running around our section. That's super rude!

So, anywho, Dave and I have decided to keep giving this reproduction business the old college try for another 6-10 months. After that, we're done. We won't be pursuing IVF or any complicated injection/IUI protocols. We've chosen our adoption agency and are working on saving the 15-40K we'll need for our first adoption. I have to say I felt the greatest sense of relief and calm when we made our decision. In a way, I've always sort of known that I'd be an adoptive mother. As a kid I used to write out adoption certificates for my dolls and bears. This just *feels* right.

And, it's like The Ash told me during our Killeen trip. One way or another, I'm going to be a mom. And really that's all that matters.

42

With all the doom and gloom news lately, am I the only one obsessively clutching a towel? Hitting CNN or turning on the news is like being forced to read or listen to Vogon poetry. I just keep repeating Douglas Adams' sage advice, "Don't Panic!"

So long as my towel is within arm's reach I feel oddly calmed. You?

51:20

So it's been super hectic in these parts. That's my only excuse for not blogging. If I'm not writing, I'm sleeping or dabbling in the domestic arts or spoiling the dog or loving on the man.

On Saturday the 22nd, I ran my first 5K Charity Race. It was hellaciously cold but I gritted my teeth and got through it. I was totally the last runner across the line but whatever. I finished. That's all that matters. And I clocked a personal best. Woo-Hoo!

Not that I've completed my first race I'm sort of in a weird place. I want to work towards 4 mile and 5 mile runs but at the same time I'm a little nervous about upping the intensity now that Dave and I are in the TTC game. So who knows. I'll probably just stick with a 5K 3 times a week and see where that takes me. If I feel like adding another mile, I will. If I don't, I won't.

All right. Back to work.

Pirates!

No, not these oh-so-sexy pirates or these asshat pirates. No, these pirates. Or these. Or these. Or, hey, even this one!

E-book piracy is becoming a huge issue. I'd like to climb up on my moral high horse and scold people for downloading pirated e-books, but I was in college only a few short years ago. Yes, a good chunk of my musical collection was gained through LimeWire or Bearshare. Fortunately, karma kicked my butt by wiping out all those files when I switched from my old computer to this laptop. Since then I've acquired all my music legally through iTunes. I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever again download illegal files.

When I was a broke ass coed, I used to think musicians were a bunch of whiners. Now, I'm on the other side of that fence. Yeah. I'm the whiner, lol. In all seriousness, it's really demoralizing to search through these sites and see a novella you worked so hard to write being downloaded 3000 or 4000 times. You peek at your royalty check and choke because the number of books sold is nowhere near that high.

Yes, obviously, I realize those download numbers don't really correlate to sales. People who download free books probably wouldn't pay for books anyway. Still, though, it's annoying to know your work is basically being stolen. I fully accept this as my punishment for being a lame coed who pilfered free music. For other authors, those people who've never downloaded a pirated song or book or movie in their lives, the issue is different. They deserve to have their hard work protected--and so do I, of course, but the Catholic in me says to accept this as my divine punishment for poor moral behavior. So I will...

This is issue is one that will likely never be completely resolved. As a reader, I'm irked by DRM protected files. As an author, I understand the desire of the publisher to protect our shared interest. I'm not tech savvy enough to know if there's some kind of middle ground. For now, I think the best authors can do is educate.

Today's lesson: Pirates are bad. Well. Unless they look like this.

From the Halls of WTF?!?

So during my 5K jog today I had to jump off the road twice to avoid being mowed down by careless drivers--one of them a K9 cop! Then on my cool down walk some creepy chain-smoking guy in a blue Suburban cruised right up beside me and scared the living shit outta me.

Creepy Dude: Oh! I'm sorry. I thought you were my daughter.
Me: Uh...Okay.
Creepy Dude: Can I give you a ride?
Me, starting to jog again: No, thanks.

This guy drives along side me the whole way back to our subdivision. Then, just as I hop onto the sidewalk, this random black truck comes out of nowhere and skids to a stop in front of the blue Suburban. A total asshat leans out the window and shouts, "Man, fuck you and your daughter!"

At this point, I start sprinting to my front door. Dave came home a few minutes later so I related the story as I took a shower. He was totally confused too.

Dave: I'm surprised he didn't ask if you'd seen his puppy.
Me: Dude.
Dave: It's true. Sounds like a real whack job.
Me: I know. I just kept thinking, "If he grabs me, how do I defend myself? Stab his eye with my keys? Strangle him with my iPOD cord?"
Dave: Er...sure?

Illicit Bargain

So it's been a busy week in Lolita's writing world. My latest novella, ILLICIT BARGAIN, released in e-book on Friday, and I finally received my box of author's copies for the TANTALIZING TREATS anthology. The cover for the antho is super sexy. Man-titty galore, folks. Right now, TANTALIZING TREATS is only available through EC's storeront. In a few weeks, it'll hit brick and mortar stores (like B&N or your local indie) and online retailers like B&N and Amazon.

As for ILLICIT BARGAIN, well, it's the steamiest novella I've penned so far. I had so much fun creating the characters and building their world. The BDSM research was interesting too. Speaking of which, this book has a "light BDSM" warning for those who prefer their erotic romances a little more vanilla. Obviously, "light" is subjective. I mean, what I consider light and what you consider light might be polar opposites.

So, to avoid a slew of perturbed emails, here's the Great List O' Deviance you can expect in ILLICIT BARGAIN. Blindfolds, rope bondage, hot wax, ice, Wartenburg wheels, clothespins, O denial, hand spanking, birch canes, rulers, ring gags, a spanking horse, sex toys, and a little knife play.

Did someone just fall off a chair? Sorry about that....

If you're intrigued, here's the blurb for IB:

When her fragile teenaged sister is held for ransom by a sociopathic sorcerer, Celia Ladrón, a witch and professional thief, is forced to steal a topaz dagger from Evi Leshnikov, a reclusive shapeshifter and old acquaintance.

Before she can escape with the dagger, Celia is caught by Evi. Incensed, he offers harsh terms — submit to his darkest desires or leave empty-handed. Desperate to save her sister, Celia agrees, unaware the erotic test of wills may break her — body and soul.

In the end, however, it just might be Evi who is humbled.

To read an excerpt or purchase ILLICIT BARGAIN

To read an excerpt or purchase (or drool over man-titty) TANTALIZING TREATS

Relieved

So I had an appointment with Dr. A this morning. I've been freaking the fuck out over it. No, really. I just knew it was going to be bad news. I was so worked up that when they did my vital signs check my pulse was 102 and my BP was 147/69. Yeah. I seriously needed a chill pill. Dave was, like, "Lady! Calm down before you blow a pupil!"

We get into the exam room and, well, it went beautifully. Dr. A and her student, Sally, were so upbeat and enthusiastic. I guess a lot of patients don't actually lose the weight and follow all the rules because Sally seemed a bit surprised when I told her I'd dropped 43 pounds since April, was running regularly, and taking all my meds, vitamins, and supplements as instructed. Dr. A seemed a bit surprised too. Sad, really, that so many people don't just do what they're told.

Anyways. My blood sugar levels are really good. My cholesterol is 131. My bad cholesterol is super low but so is my good cholesterol. Unfortunately the good cholesterol will stay low because I don't make enough estrogen to have normal cholesterol levels.

So we had a nice long chat and mapped out a baby making plan. I was so relieved I almost burst into tears. Since leaving Dr. A's office I've alternated between sobbing and laughing. I'm a mess. But a good mess. I know there's a lot of uncertainty ahead of us but for the first time in a really long time I have an overwhelming sense of hope. And that's a good thing.

42

Just a quick weight loss update. I lost 5 pounds in October for a total of 42 so far. Woo-hoo! Just 8 more pounds and I'm halfway to my goal. I think November will be a good month. I have to kick up my training schedule since I'm running that 5K charity race on the 22nd.

Oh, and am I the only person who felt like she'd fallen down the rabbit's hole this morning? We have one of those atomic clocks which automatically updates and adjusts. So when I walked into the kitchen I saw the microwave clock which said 6:07. I glance over at the clock on the windowsill. 5:07. Wha-? I did a double take and started to get this panicky, wtf feeling when, suddenly, I remembered. Aha! Fall Back.

Yes. I'm that goofy.

NaNoWriMo

So in mid-October I did the unthinkable. I joined NaNoWriMo. What's NaNoWriMo you ask? It's National Novel Writing Month. Oh, yes. The goal of the challenge is to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. And I was dumb enough to sign up for it. Who knows if I'll finish. I managed to do extraordinarily well on the Sweating With Sven Challenge. (70 days of 1500 words per day was my goal.) I think I hit, like, 110-120K in 70 days. But I was a mentally and physically exhausted mess by the end of it. Here's hoping I don't plunge off the deep end with this challenge.

Writing starts today. I've stockpiled yummy, healthy snacks. I need to brew up some flavored iced tea and make a run for some Diet Dr. Pepper. Wish me luck!


*Edited to Add* OMG. I just signed up for Sweating with Sven Round 4 which runs from November 10 to January 26. I've pledged to finish my YA Urban fantasy, and erotic romance novella, and an erotica novel by January 26. What the hell is wrong with me?

Monster Mash!

So Halloween is my most favorite holiday. I love October. It's my birthday month. Fall starts. Pumpkins and cinnamon and nutmeg and yummy squash are everywhere. I get to decorate the house and buy those nifty little candy bars and play Boris Pickett and The Crypt Kickers and make popcorn balls. How great is that?

I started my Halloween movie marathon a few days ago. I've got tons on my list to watch and I might have to go into next week to get them all done. It's a good excuse to avoid the TV campaign commercials! My list is loaded with classics, comedies, and B movies galore. I'm not a big gore fan.

A few years back, I made the mistake of watching Takashi Miike's AUDITION. I'd never seen or heard of the film so when I sat down to watch it I didn't know what to expect. Holy hell. I ended up puking my guts out for most of the night and didn't sleep for, like, four days. No really. It was a horrendously terrifying and disgusting film. I mean, like, super disturbing. Seriously, Rob Zombie did an interview about this film, and as he discussed it, he got this totally squeamish look on his face and shuddered. Rob effing Zombie folks.

*Spoilers ahead*

This dude decides he needs a new wife to replace his dead one so he holds this fake audition. This cute young woman shows up and he's like, omg, I love you. And she's like yay! But his friend is like, "Dude, she gives me the creeps." He doesn't listen because there's just something about her.

Cut to a scene with said creepy yet adorable young woman sitting in an unfurnished apartment. She's just staring at this phone, waiting for it to ring. There's a burlap sack on the floor near her. The phone rings. The burlap sack lurches and gurgles. She answers the phone and dating ensues. They finally decide to do the deed. She tells him all about her sexual abuse as a child and shows him these burns on her body. She urges him to love her, only her. He says he will.

In the morning, he wakes up and she's gone. He searches for her. He finds out all these really weird things about her by visiting the places on the resume she used during her audition. A lot of people she listed as references are, like, dead or missing. In one case a body was found with extra body parts. But he luuurrvves her so he just keeps on searching.

She, meanwhile, visits his house and finds a picture of his dead wife. She loses her shit and spikes his drink. She hides. He comes home, has a drink, and passes out. Then the audience is treated to a flashback where the crazy chick eats dinner and barfs it into a dog food dish. The burlap sack is opened and a naked dude missing a whole lot of important body parts slithers out of the bag and stuffs his face into the vomit--and laps it up because he's, like, starving.

So back to the present. The guy wakes up from the drugs and sees his dog all fucked up and dead. The chick comes in and injects him with some kind of paralytic drug that makes it impossible for him to move but unbelievably aware of what's going on with his body. She tortures him with needles in his eyes and belly. The whole time, she's rambling about how he loves too many people and things. She killed the dog because he loved it. She's going to kill his son because he loves him. I mean, she's really twisted. She then uses a garroting razor wire thing to hack off his foot. And she's got this totally orgasmic, blissful face as she's hacking this guy to bits.

The son unexpectedly arrives. She tries to knock him out with a spray bottle of paralyzing juice but the son evades the spritz and knocks her crazy ass down the stairs. She breaks her neck. Son calls the police. The end.

*End Spoilers*

So, yeah, after that horrid experience, I swore off gore. What am I watching this year then?

Prophecy
Prophecy 2
Prophecy 3
Bubba Hotep
Ernest Scared Stupid
Ghostbusters
Beetlejuice
Tremors
From Hell
Sleepy Hollow
The Burbs
Hocus Pocus
The Devil's Rejects
Transylvania 6-5000
Mary Reilly
Little Shop of Horros
In the Blood
Shadow of the Vampire
Fido
The Insatiable
The Frighteners
The Witches of Eastwick
Rebecca
Rocky Horror Picture Show (watching right now)
Rosemary's Baby
The Lost Boys
30 Days of Night
Hellraiser
Severance
Elvira: Werewolf of Washington
Wolf
Kinky Killers
The Rats
Elvira: The Devil's Wedding Night
Elvira: Count Dracula's Great Love
Elvira: Frankenstein's Castle of Freaks
Young Frankenstein
Elvira: Legacy of the Blood
Elvira: Doomsday Machine

Early Birds

So Dave and I participated in early voting. We even have the nifty "I Voted!" stickers to prove it. I was a little miffed that the only polling places close to us were all churches but whatever. It's not that I have anything against churches. I just don't think churches and voting should go hand in hand. It makes me nervous. I don't see why tax funded buildings aren't solely used as polling places. No conflicts of interest, you know?

Anywho. So we drove around for, like, half an hour trying to find this one specific church. Finally, Dave spotted a "Vote Here!" sign about the size of a license plate on the side of a major thoroughfare. That really perplexed me. Historically, most early voters are, you know, older folks. Older folks. Bad eyesight. Tiny signs. If I didn't know any better, I'd think it was a ploy to disenfranchise elder Republicans or something.

I like early voting because there isn't much of a wait. Our normal polling place was a nightmare during the primaries. It was packed and rowdy and discouraged Dave and I from going back for the caucus. The church lobby was quiet and there were plenty of open machines. Woohoo!

We had one of those weird ballots. For some races there were three candidates, for some two from the major parties, and for some only a Republican or Libertarian. I couldn't help but wonder why Democrats didn't run in some races.

I wish I could have been one of those "straight ticket" people. They just walk up, hit a few buttons and walk out. I have to stand there, spinning that damn dial, and clicking buttons for every space on the ballot. I'm a registered Democrat for the purpose of voting in the primary since you have to choose one line or the other here in Tejas. But when I vote I'm an Independent. My ticket looked pretty bizarre when I was done. Sort of like a schizophrenic monkey had haphazardly spun the dial and clicked enter. What can I say? I like some Republicans. I like some Democrats. I even like a few Libertarians.

So get out there and vote! It takes, like, fifteen minutes at the most (at least during early voting) and you get a totally nifty sticker. Oh, and it's your civic duty. So earn those bitchin' rights and cast your ballot!

Shenanigans

So this Ashley Todd business is sort of a big deal here in town since she claimed to be a TAMU student. Turns out she wasn't. She's actually a Blinn student. Yet another lie in her layer cake of asshatery.

What gets me though is how quickly the media and various political blogs took to this story without, you know, vetting it properly. Look, I'm usually one to believe victims, but I have to say my bullshit meter goes bugnuts whenever someone claims that a big, scary black man attacked them. Puh-leez. How friggin' cliche!

Within, like, ten minutes of hearing about this breaking story, I was able to use my Google-fu to snuff out the facts. First, I found Ashley Todd's Myspace page. Her shout-out to a Panic at the Disco song lyric, "Lying is the most fun a girl can have without taking her cloths [sic] off but its [sic] better if you do," had me raising my eyebrows. First off, for her inability to spell "clothes" or to understand the difference between "its" and "it's." Secondly, um, well, read the quote.

Next, I found her Twitter page. Holy hell. Right before the alleged crime occurred, she Twittered the following. "Stubbornly searching for a Bank of America to avoid ATM fees," and "Pretty sure I'm on the wrong side of Pittsburgh." Uh-huh. Because when I'm driving around a strange city, alone, at night, I always have time to Twitter at red lights. This reads like a crappy setup in some badly written mystery novel. Give me a break!

Oh, and then there was her Youtube video I found of the "Mean Janitor" who just happened to be a big, black man. Right...

Throw all that together and it's really hard for me not to roll my eyes in disbelief. When the photo came out, I laughed. Backwards B. Black eye that looks like a mascara job. Oh, dear.

And then, suddenly, I felt really sad. This girl has no idea what kind of shitstorm she created by making up this unbelievable lie. She not only wasted community resources but she stirred up such ugly feelings. You should see some of the comments on blogs and online newspapers. I can't tell you how many comments I read that made me shake my head in disbelief that such hateful, ignorant people still exist.

Even if the story had been true, even if a big, scary black man had scratched the letter B in her face, it wouldn't have been a reflection on Obama's campaign any more than this girl's idiocy should be a reflection on the McCain campaign. Lord knows I don't care for John McCain or Sarah Palin but that doesn't mean I hold them personally responsible for this girl's asshatery. Could you argue that some of Palin's incendiary remarks might have spurred this girl's desperate actions? Maybe. Then again, some people are just sickos.

I do, however, think the Pennsylvania McCain camp representative who fed the story to the media should be fired. He not only made himself look foolish, but his candidates too. As for Ashley Todd, well, it's a good thing she was too much of a coward to do a believable number on her face. Otherwise, she'd be forever branded with a scarlet B. At least now she might be able get some help--which she seriously needs--and fade away into obscurity.

Opossum? Oh, Crap.

So I was working way late last night and Bos decided to keep me company. A little after 3 this morning, he decided he needed to use the facilities. I let him outside and flicked on the porch light. A cold front had blown through so I stood behind the door, shielding myself from the cold. It was one of those dark, creepy, howling wind types of nights. I didn't like it.

Suddenly something skittered across the back of the lawn. Bosley pinched it off and made chase, barking so loud and wildly lights in all the neighboring houses began to flick on. I walked out onto the patio and called him back into the house. He was losing his effing mind. He barked viciously and growled at whatever the hell he'd cornered in the far right side of the yard.

With no other choice, I had to scurry (barefoot and half-dressed in my jammies) out into the darkness. As I got closer to Bosley, he became more aggressive toward whatever critter he'd cornered. I guess his protective instinct kicked in as I approached. I tried to coax him back inside but he just wouldn't listen. I tugged on his tail. He clawed the ground and refused to budge. I couldn't see the mysterious creature because of the darkness and shadows but I knew that if I didn't do something quick Bosley was probably going to get bitten or scratched.

Like a complete idiot, I stepped up between Bosley and the creature. Suddenly, I was face to face with a furious opossum, its claws bared, teeth gnashing, mouth smacking, and tail curled defensively. Visions of enduring weeks of rabies shot flashed through my mind. It reared up and hissed at me. Bosley leapt forward and viciously, violently snapped and snarled at the little beastie.

Me? I ran like a little girl. Seriously. I squealed and jumped and high-tailed it back to the house. As I made the mad dash to the door, I spotted Klaus, Bosley's squeaky fish, and snatched it from the ground. Running like crazy, I rapidly squeezed Klaus and Bosley, thinking this was some kind of new game, chased me back into the kitchen. I slammed the door shut and nearly collapsed with a mixture of fear and relief. Bosley grabbed Klaus from my hand and trotted into the living room, still grumbling with annoyance at the interloper marsupial.

And Dave? Yeah. He totally slept through this spectacle of spectacles. He didn't even stir. In fact, when he came down to head out for work two hours later, he was shocked and highly amused. That man....

So now I have to worry about nocturnal beasties terrorizing the dog during his nightly visits to the john. Oh, joy! And I'm seriously wondering how my vegetable garden will fare next year. I foresee scads of nibbled upon veggies and irritation out the wazoo. Such are the joys of living up against the woodsen...

Bizenghast

So I've started venturing into new and interesting literary genres. First I tried Bizarro fiction and absolutely fell in love with it. I think I may have converted Rob/Todd to the genre as he devoured Angel Dust Apocalypse during his short visit. Seriously good and totally mind-bending book. You should check it out if you get chance.

I've also tried some scifi a la John Scalzi and some super cozy Victorian mysteries. I'm considering a thriller or two and some horror. Maybe. Anywho. So manga/graphic novels were next on my list. Dave and I visited the library yesterday afternoon and the Halloween collection caught my eye. I wandered over and picked up the first thing that looked interesting: Bizenghast Volumes 1 & 2.

These are two of the most engaging books I've ever picked up. The illustrations are crazy beautiful. The storyline is whimsical and frightening. Dinah, a young girl who can see ghosts and has some serious mental issues (schizophrenia, maybe) and her best friend Vincent discover a mausoleum in the woods. Dinah accidentally signs a contract binding her to the mausoleum and to the task of freeing tortured, trapped souls. Each volume of Bizenghast is a continuation of her quest to free the souls and void the contract.

The books are super interesting and super quick reads. Drop by your library or B&N or indie bookstore and try them out! You won't be sorry!

$5000

The other day Mom and I discussed health care costs. My dad is having a health scare which means Mom is having a budget scare. We discussed how absolutely disgusted we are by medical care and insurance coverage in this country. My parents shell out major cash for premiums but get nothing in return. Mom's needed to go in for some routine and not so routine testing for months now but she's been putting it off because of the up-front cost. My parents make a decent living and yet...

We had the biggest laugh over the McCain healthcare plan. Oh, sure, give me $5000 to buy insurance. Uh-huh. I'm sorry, folks, but that's impossible. If Dave and I lost his group plan, we'd never get insurance again. NEVER. Dave has fairly well controlled Type II Diabetes and is overweight by, oh, fifteen or twenty pounds. I have PCOS/POF, a mitral valve prolapse, a systolic murmur, and am still overweight (but really working on that.) To me, these things are really minor, but to insurance companies? Yeah. Not so much. The shitty state of my ovaries automatically plunks me into the "rare disorder" category. When you're trying to get health insurance, that's the kiss of death.

Just for shits and giggles, I looked for private health insurance quotes. I nearly fell out of my chair. If you want a reasonable deductible of $1000 per person, you'll pay $463 a month for two healthy people. I'm afraid to even answer the health questionnaire to see what it would cost for not so healthy folks. I do know women in my support group who pay $750-1000 per month just to keep their COBRA plans. Yeah. Digest that. I know one woman who couldn't find insurance for her husband because he weighed 270 some-odd pounds. If you tip the scales at 250 plus, you're pretty much shit-outta-luck.

Oh, and that $463 plan doesn't cover any maternity care. That's zero prenatal visits and no labor and delivery coverage. A few friends have just had babies, and I can tell you from the horror stories I'm hearing that the cost of L&D ain't cheap. I'm talking 10K for a vaginal delivery without drugs and 20K for C-sections. The lack of maternity coverage seems to be a common theme in "affordable" private plans. Because, you know, healthy moms aren't a priority. I mean, really, what the fuck?

Right now, Dave and I pay a few hundred dollars a month for a somewhat useful plan. We have to hit our $1500 per person deductible before we get any coverage. Dave's employer provides half of that in an HSA, and we kick over a percentage of every check--but it's still not enough. We have absolutely no fertility coverage which means all of the tests I need have to be coded very specifically by my doctor's office or else our insurer kicks them back. If I have to do a medicated cycle, I get absolutely no monitoring or med coverage. That's complete and utter bullshit. We've paid our premiums. I should get quality health care. End of story.

The prescription coverage is pretty bad too. Dave would like to try some different diabetes meds but the prices are outrageous. We're talking $1000-$1500 per month. Our insurance doesn't cover them so even though they'd probably keep Dave healthier for longer, they're just out of the question. And that's just fucked up. People shouldn't be priced out of prescriptions.

I just don't get this philosophy of "Oh, hey, it's all right! The market will fix everything." Um, yeah, no. We've had private insurance companies since, what, Nixon and Kaiser and all that, right? If the market hasn't fixed the issue of health care costs in all those years, I think we can safely say it isn't going to any time soon.

Look, I'm not a socialist. When it comes to money, I'm a straight-up fiscal conservative--but that doesn't mean that money should come before the basic human rights of American citizens to have equal access to quality health care. It's a fucking disgrace that people in this country have to file bankruptcy because of medical bills. Or that someone who has paid their premiums for years should be denied coverage because of the cost to the insurance company. Um, that's the whole point of insurance. I pay this money every month just in case something horrific happens to me.

I know this is ranty but I'm just sick to death with hospitals and insurance companies and politicians telling us the system is fine. You know what I say to that? FTP!

2.92

So I zoned out today and ran 2.92 miles. I'm so close to a 5K I can taste it. I have to be careful not to push myself too far at a time. I really don't need an injury. But, man, it felt so effing good to type my starting and ending into MapQuest and see my distance. I'll definitely achieve 5K distance by the end of October. Woo Hoo!!!!

I found a 5K run for bone marrow awareness here in town. It's a late November race, the 22nd, I think. I'll definitely be ready for it...but I'll be the last person across the line probably. That should matter to me, but oddly enough, it doesn't. I just want to finish and get that t-shirt. You know?

So I'm tentatively considering it. I've got a few weeks to make up my mind but I'm fairly certain I'll be running. It's something I need to do for myself. Sort of like the final proof. I did it. See? I've got the t-shirt to prove it.

Blog Action Day 2008

Poverty. It sucks. I hate that in the US we have a huge number of folks barely existing. I'm the most bothered by the working poor. What a slap in the face! To work every day and barely be able to feed one's family or a keep a roof over one's head. Minimum wage is a joke. Seriously.

But I think we all know that. We're all well aware of the problems. If we're not, we should be. So I've decided to focus on Microcredit as my contribution to Blog Action Day 2008. I really feel it's one of the best ways for people to claw themselves out of poverty and into sustainable entrepreneurship.

What's microcredit? Basically lenders like Grameen Bank, FINCA, AccionUSA, Compartamos, or Kiva make tiny loans of maybe 50 bucks to a few thousand to fledling business owners who couldn't otherwise obtain credit. You would be shocked to how people (women, especially) can take, say, $60 bucks and turn it into a vibrant business that allows them to not only feed their families, but provide employment opportunities within their communities. I'm particularly interested in the stories of women who have benefited from microloans. You read their stories and you see how much pride they have in their accomplishments. That pride filters through their children and into their spouses, friends, and community. It's really inspiring.

Most microcredit lenders are supported by people like you and me. Small donations add up quickly and allow these lenders to give women and men all over the world--even the US--help. For many this is a way to be intimately involved with directly affecting the life of another.

There's tons of info out there on microcredit. Use your Google-Fu. Learn. Act.

Green Thumb Envy

So my friend Layna has, like, the best luck with plants. Cute, little plants too. No, really. She gave me the cutest little midget carrots and some totally adorable green and red peppers. I've also got this odd onion/lily plant on the back porch.

I used to be an awesome gardener. At the apartment, I had loads of potted plants and herbs that would just grow and grow and grow. Ever since moving to the house, I've lost the magic touch. Nothing lives. Or they get dug up and eaten by scavenging armadillos and possums and the like. (Yes. We actually have this problem.) Annoying.

I'm hoping 2009 will be a much better year. We're planning to put in a moderate veggie and fruit garden in the back. I'd also like to try my hand at container gardening on the patio. Some lemons, berries, and tomatoes maybe. I think we'll start composting soon. We've got to replace the mulch in the front yard landscaping so that would be a good a time as any to get a small compost pile going.

Until then I'll just heave heavy sighs of green thumb envy. Hmm. Maybe I should ask Layna to come over and help with the planting. Hopefully a little of her magic touch will rub off on my dirt, lol.

It's All in the Hips

So Dave, Layna, Sara, and I went out for dinner at Pei-Wei and a round of glow-in-the-dark mini-golf in a belated celebration of my birthday. I'm really bad at putt-putt but whatever. I had a really good time and that's all that matters. Dave, Sara, and Layna hit hole-in-ones. Sara twice! Me? Yeah, not so much. I was lucky to par on most of the holes.

They have a good sized bowling alley there too. Dave and I have never gone bowling so I think we'll find a late morning or early afternoon when it's not so busy and go embarass ourselves. I have visions of myself sliding down the lane, my fingers still stuck in the ball. Also I wonder if they'll have big enough shoes for Dave? Must look into this...

Speaking of hips (golf stance and all,) Bosley went to the vet today for his annual visit and 3 year boosters. We've had some suspicion that Bosley had bad hips but today we had it confirmed. My poor little snuggle-bumpkins has hip dysplasia. I first noticed he had something wrong with his legs when he was running in the backyard. He loves to run--but his back legs move in tandem. He bunny hops as he runs at, like, 60 miles an hour around the backyard. I guess since he's always had effed-up hips he just compensated. He can run up and down the stairs, tear up the backyard, and jump up and down and stuff.

But he's apparently in pain. All the time. I felt so fucking bad. I never knew. I should have known. He's my fur baby. I should have been more vigilant. The morning I noticed him bunny hopping I should have picked up the phone and made an appointment. I am such a crap mommy.

So now he's on NSAIDs, supplements, and physical therapy. If he hasn't improved in 6-8 weeks, he has to see an orthopedic specialist. Can you say expensive? But we'll do what we have to. Our vet seems to think NSAIDs, therapy, and supplements will cause a huge improvement. We'll keep at it.

See this issue is a reason puppy mills are so shitty. Is the hip dysplasia inherited? Is it because as a puppy he was chained to concrete, malnourished, and probably suffered malformation of his bones? Who the fuck knows? At least with a good breeder (people who love their dogs and breed only a few per year,) we'd have known if hip dysplasia ran in his bloodline. We have no idea what kind of parents he came from and that sucks.

Seriously, folks, don't buy dogs from puppy stores or from newspapers or online or from those jackasses sitting in Wal-Mart parking lots. They all come from those horrendous puppy mills. Visit a shelter or the pound first. If you have to have a purebreed then research and find a good, ethical breeder who adheres to rigid standards.

Gah! Puppy mill owners are asshats!

Butter Cream Gang

Oh. My. God. I don't know why but that old school straight to VHS movie, The Butter Cream Gang, popped into my head just a few minutes ago. If you attended elementary school between, oh, 1989-1999 or so, you were probably forced to watch this film. It's not Oscar worthy or anything but it's cute and fuzzy and all about morals and volunteerism and stuff. I'm almost tempted to buy it so I can torture my kids with it.

Or they might be like my little sister, Tricia, and totally love the movie. I swear, she probably watched that tape every day for, like, three years. She was like that as a kid. She had this rotation of tapes she'd watch over and over and over. Seriously. My dad can probably sing the entire film score or quote pages of dialogue from Pocahontas, Fern Gully, the Aristocats, Great Mouse Detective, Willy the Sparrow, and The Butter Cream Gang. Mom too. Or not. She's probable blocked out the traumatic memories.

You know, memories like that, of my poor parents suffering through years of repeated videos gives me second thoughts about this kid stuff. I mean. Really.