I Knew I Said I Wouldn't Go There, But I Lied

In the early eighties, my father was in the middle of amping up his construction company. At the time, cash flow was good but some things, like insurance, just kind of fell to the wayside. When money is tight and you're self-employed, the last thing you can afford to do is pay for consistent healthcare coverage.

Circa 26 years ago, before we all started eating whole grain everything, before we all started popping vitamins as if our species is just not capable of surviving without them, and before people started preoccupying themselves with becoming centenarians, health insurance was considered a "just in case" plan.

Food, shelter, those kinds of things, WELL, they just seemed more important.

So of course, as dictated by Murphy's Law, my Mama got pregnant with me during a time when they didn't have healthcare coverage. Luckily for my Dad, he was making money and he knew that paying out of pocket for the duration of the pregnancy was his only option.

To this day my Dad calls me the "most expensive baby".

How much was the total of all the checkups, the ultrasounds, the birth, etc? about $10,000.

That was in 1983.

And my Mom didn't even get anesthesia.

How much would that cost today?

Somewhere between $9,000, with no complications and no anesthesia, to $17,000. A birth WITH complications, whoa boy, we're talking a possible total cost of $25,000 (if not more). And if you even think about having twins, you are f*cked. Just walk your tired, prego feet straight from the hospital down to bankruptcy court.

And bless anyone who has a child with health issues. I can not even begin to fathom.

Does childbirth come with a low interest payment plan?

So where is this all coming from? Well, I've told you before I read a lot, and I do, I read A LOT:

Read this.

I'm not going to weigh in on my views regarding the Obama plan, BUT, from a rational point of view... I think it would be ideal if we could readjust people to have realisitic views on healthcare coverage. We don't all need to live to be 120, people. But! we ALL deserve to live a healthy life while we're here and without fear that living that life will drain us of our finances.

That's all I have to say.

OK, now that I've gone on my tirade, let's talk about something else. Like for example, how cute our puppy is:

Or how funny it is that Harry's only real goal in life at the moment is to make MJ his friend.

And the fact that she wants absolutely nothing to do with him.

Remember this MJ?

And you thought me dressing you up was as bad as it could get...

...then we brought HIM home.

Talk About A Stalemate

What happens when you put a working class, liberal minded, peace loving "hippie" under the same roof as a privileged, upper-middle class, self-declared "hillbilly"?

I'm not entirely sure, but you are welcome to stop by my house anytime to find out.

The Boyfriend and I have strategically avoided the words "health", "care" and any combination of the two ever since Obama became president. We didn't even discuss the election. Whoa-ho, no way! When we do dare to discuss "politics", we practically end up on the ground, pulling each others hair out and yelling, "nu uh, YOU'RE wrong". It's not a pretty scene.

But last night, oh ho, last night, we made the hideous mistake of talking about health care. And to premise this, I will tell you that I avoid talking about politics completely. I handle politics like a chameleon; the topic comes up and I do my best to blend into the background so no one preys on me. Why you ask? It's not that I'm weak minded, it's not that I don't have opinions, it's simply that I don't care to ARGUE my opinions to others.

"To each their own".

Now the Boyfriend on the other hand, oh!, he LOVES to argue. He's incredibly head strong and he loves to try and prove people wrong. He'll never admit it, but I catch him making up "facts" sometimes just so he can try to validate his arguments. The humorous part of this is that he's never actually trying to convince anyone to agree with him, no no, he'd much rather just yell that his point of view is right.

You could even say, "I totally agree with you", and he'd still be saying, "You don't even understand what I'm saying..."

Thereby, our arguments normally last about 5 minutes. He argues, I back down, he keeps arguing, I end the argument by proving that his "fact" is wrong. He hates that. Right after that, our fight enters a total stalemate.

I don't like to argue, but when I'm challenged I don't back down, not for anything. Not even chocolate... or coffee...

Point being; I spent last evening in the family room with the old TV, a glass of wine and the fat cat. He spent the evening in the living room with "his" flat screen and our new puppy. Talk about a division of the sexes.

In summation, I have no urge to continue this argument with the Boyfriend and I recognize that neither of us will ever apologize for it, BUT if me, Harry, or MJ are subjected to listening to Fox news any longer the three of us will be moving to the barn.

Did you hear that Andrew?

Weekly Bulletin

The weather this past weekend was absolutely gorgeous. We barbecued on our deck for two days straight. I drank beer, watched the Boyfriend use the new grill, played ladder ball and simply enjoyed the happiness that comes from smelling a flower for the first time after months of living underneath the ice.

This Is Bliss

Everything worked out! The puppy home inspection went well and Harry is "ours". He's also the most well behaved puppy you have or will ever meet. He abides by commands, he loves to cuddle and he barely ever barks. It's a phenomenon.

He also has ring worm at the moment. So check back in 5-10 days.

And the Boyfriend, who was all "I don't want to a dog!" and "I'm not walking it", has completely fallen for our little man. In fact, the Boyfriend spent Harry's first night at home on the couch so he could be there in case Harry "got upset". Let me tell you- the two of them spend all their time together now; from their mornings on the couch watching Fox news (yuck) to their long walks on the beach holding hands... ok wait, where am I going with this?

Point being: the Boyfriend adores Harry. They are like two peas in a little pod. But alas, neither of them like to have their picture taken. So I'm going to have to be uber sneaky to catch a shot of them for this here website.

In the meantime, here is the cutest f*n picture ever of my niece playing with "our" Harry.

This picture makes me want to have babies.

So does this picture, but that's an entirely different blog entry all together.

Falling Apart

Two days ago I was stamping some contracts at work. And just in case you're wondering, no, that is not the only thing I do at work. Alas, I realized that my right thumb was aching and every once in a while this shooting pain would zing up my arm and I'd be rendered immobile for about 3 seconds. Damn me for not being left handed.

Yesterday it got much worse. It was throbbing. It felt like there was a stream of fire running from my thumb to my elbow and as much as I massaged it or held it or prayed to Venus, nothing seemed to work. So someone tells me that it sounds like I have "carpal tunnel" to which I respond, "isn't that for old people?" to which they respond, "I have carpal tunnel" to which I then felt like a dumbass.

Plus I realized that I'm not that young anymore and that TOTALLY sucked.

So me being my hypochondriacal self, I decided to book an appointment with the family doc, for that night, because for real... I may have been having a stroke... you never know! Thereby, the Boyfriend and I decide to make an adventure out of it. The weather here has been beautiful so we went to one of our favorite, more pricey restaurants and I melted into my tuna burger and a glass of Riesling.

When it came time for my doctor visit I made the Boyfriend go in with me. If I was having a stroke I needed support. My doctor also finds me pretty amusing. I don't think that is a good sign. So she messes with my hand a bit and goes, "I know what this is". And then we go through the whole "does this hurt?"", "does it hurt when I do this?".

But here's the issue, it didn't hurt. So I confess, I say "I drank a glass of wine with dinner! Do you think that would make it not hurt?!?"

She laughs again. Hmm.

Then she puts her pen on her desk and looks at me and goes, "You have tendinitis of the thumb". I'm like "whaaaat?". Then she explains that most people get it from, get this, texting! I knew it! I knew texting was a horrible, horrible advance in technology. I held out on doing it for sooo long. Then that new phone just lulled me into a false sense of security with it's fancy keyboard and BOOM! I have tendinitis.

I am thinking...

What am I thinking?

I'm thinking I am 26 and I have tendinitis... of the thumb.

I also get to wear a sexy thumb brace. Google that. Be jealous.

Dirty Harry

I haven't wanted to write too much about the puppy adoption process we're going through right now. Mostly because at any moment they can decide not to give him to me. It's a pride issue really. I'll cry, you'll feel bad, I'll hate that you'll know I'm crying...

However, I can't avoid writing about it any longer because I received an email today from the foster mom of the puppy we're hoping to adopt and I can not, for the life of me, think about anything else.

We had originally gone to the Meet and Greet to see a puppy named Dick; as you saw here. But we ended up falling for his brother, Harry. Talk about scandalous! I'll write the whole story of how our love affair began when/if it's official.

So this weekend we have our home inspection. Harry's foster mom told me that if the home inspection goes well he'll be "ours" right afterwards. Well she said "yours". Then my heart melted right out of my chest. I'll have to pick the remnants up off the floor when I'm done writing this.

Please allow me to introduce you to Harry:

I'm in love.

It's Not Easy Being Irish

Happy St. Patrick's Day from our house to yours.

"It's time to get our drink on, yo"

MaryJane likes to get a head start on those lightweights.

And remember,

"liquor before beer, you're in the clear, beer before liquor, never been sicker"