Victimizing victims. It is the American way.

I have a Masters in Business Administration. I was a Business undergraduate specializing in Finance. I worked in the private sector for my entire career - with over 15 years of Corporate America / For Profit under my belt.


So I'm no softy. I understand that cold, hard business decisions that need to be made sometimes. Sometimes the sales just aren't there. There's no demand, so there's no need for the labor and the material to produce and you cut back, and you need to lay off workers. It sucks.

I've never worked in the insurance industry, but as a Finance professional I understand the shared risk concept. People all pay in and the pool of funds collected is theoretically used to cover the needs / losses of the participants in the plan. Actuaries figure out the right amount to charge to cover the estimated risks. The pool should always be able to pay if the funds are managed properly and the underlying assumptions made by the actuaries were based on reasonable assumptions and good data.

Then, in theory, if an insurance company is for profit, they need to manage the whole thing so that they can take the profit they want out of the mix.

AHHHH... there is the rub.

Profit is not a bad thing. Profit is the reward for superior work. In the insurance industry superior work means that the people that paid you premiums got covered when they had a loss. Manage your data, your assumptions, and your business processes properly and your reward is a profit. Profit is good. If you earn it, profit is good.

Earn it? That means that if you do what your business model says you do, you have earned it. However, if you collect money from people after picking and choosing your customers, then turn away customers, and eliminate coverage for people that paid you when they were not experiencing losses...because they started having losses, then you are NOT doing your job. The business model is all about understanding risks and applying statistics to determine fair premiums. The job isn't about avoiding losses, it's about determining the right premiums.

If you are selling insurance and not protecting your customers when they experience loss; and you are not doing your job, and you enjoy a nice profit, then you are stealing. You are a crook. Sadly, the United States health insurance companies are crooked.

Not long ago, while I was seeking medical coverage in the private market, I had the humiliating and depressing experience of being a middle aged woman seeking medical insurance. As if the insane price for coverage was not humiliating enough, the process of obtaining coverage was worse.

The insurance company asked me to have my doctor respond to them with answers to a couple of questions from my application. I expected the customary one year waiver on a couple of things, but in general I didn't think it would be a problem.

Wrong.

The idiot office manager in the doctor's office didn't read my letter to the doctor. She saw the insurance form, pressed a couple of buttons, and my ENTIRE MEDICAL RECORD was electronically sent to the insurance company. If she had read the letter, the doctor was supposed to answer three simple questions with the truth - nothing more. My letter to the doctor told the doctor what to say, which was the truthful answer to the questions. I was a new patient and I wanted to remind her what I had told her, so I wrote the letter to leave no room for error. Sadly, the idiot in the office chose to ignore the cover letter, which wasn't addressed to her in the first place.

This is when I learned about HIPAA. The sad truth I learned about HIPAA is that it has no teeth whatsoever and that it's intentions when implemented were perfect, the policy never delivered on the enforcement side. ugh.

The insurance company rejected me, citing about TEN conditions that I didn't have.

It took months for me to resolve the situation. My medical records had tons of details that were misused by the insurance company. My doctor had documented everything we talked about, including suppositions, possibilities, maybes, and stuff to watch. There were no diagnoses and no treatments for of the items, except the items that they asked about. I had not withheld information and had disclosed the complete truth about anything that was diagnosed and required treatment.

It didn't matter. The insurance company said, "They are in your medical records, and we only allow three waivers."

I said, "But those were not diagnoses. They were discussion notes. You weren't even supposed to get that."

Well we did get it, and we can use it. You can not have coverage.", was the reply.

The doctor called and talked to them personally. It didn't matter. She was going to blow me off, but I scheduled a meeting. While I had become painfully aware that there were no teeth in HIPAA, and I had failed to find even ONE lawyer that was interested in helping me in civil court, I implied to the doctor that I had a case for civil court. We developed an action plan.

She took me into an examination room and we talked about each of the items in the file. For each item she asked me specific questions and had me perform specific maneuvers. For example, we had talked about the possibility of carpel tunnel syndrome that flares up for me from time to time. However, since I had no symptoms either time she saw me, and I could perform the physical movement that would indicate that I do not have carpel tunnel syndrome, she documented the test and the conclusion: no carpel tunnel syndrome - which is true, I've never been treated for it, nor been to the doctor for it. I had simply mentioned that from time to time ...

Another example: I had asked her if I should get a DEXA (bone density study) to use as a baseline. I had no symptoms of osteoporosis, but the baseline would need to be done within the next couple of years anyway, and the coverage I had from Mr. Ex was really good, so I asked to get it done a couple of years early. When the insurance company saw that the test had been performed they decided that I was likely a high risk. Never mind that the results of the scan indicated that I have the bones of a 25 year old!! The insurance company let that one go after I argued it, but it was on the original rejection letter.

Long story, almost finished, the insurance company received a new version of the medical records and rescinded their rejections. By the time they made this decision I had secured coverage elsewhere and told them to go to hell.

Ironically, the company that I secured coverage from back then has since left the Arizona market and the original company that rejected me picked up their customers... and raised their rates over 10%. . Blue Cross Blue Shield is the company. Asshats.

So I'm no victim. I won my battle, I guess. I pay insane premiums for catastrophe coverage, but I do it to protect my assets for my children. My children are covered by a plan provided by their father's employer. I have the knowledge and skills necessary to fight with the crooks and bullies that run the health insurance racket, and while I won't call myself a winner, I'll say that I am not a victim.

But what about the people that don't have the skills or knowledge? What about people that just need to be able to take care of themselves and their dependents?

>Check out this short and oh, so nauseating article.

>How can anyone know that, when left to operate without legislation, the insurance crooks consider being a battered woman a "preexisting condition", and still think that there isn't a need to correct the health insurance business model and its abuses? Without a public option that provides real market competition and coverage that doesn't victimize people, the insurance crooks will continue to abuse their 'for profit' business model - simply because they can. They have proven this to us.

I'm wondering, what are you thinking?

I'm wondering if our blogospere is closing in on us? Is it coming to a close?

Facebook seems the new rage. I have not yet embraced it - I dont' know why, really. I think it means something. Facebook is not so deep. Not so introspective. Perhaps more "normal"?

Is this chapter coming to a close?

What do you all think? I don't have many readers any more, but I still want to know!

I Got Noth'in to Bitch About

Woo Hoo!

The baby got over my bitterness. Getting it out really helped - so thanks.

Now I'm focusing on each day. I've been swimming again. I'm planning a bathroom remodel. I'm working on some major financial overhaul strategies. I sure hope the financial stuff works out. That would be sweet.

On the downside; cause damn it, downsides won't go away, the County Flood Control people, that came here to bother me in August 2007, decided to rear their ugly heads again. And trust me, if you used to read my blog in the old days, you might remember how ugly those flood control people are. Ugh.

I was served with notice that threatened me with being charged with a class 2 misdemeanor, punishable by a maximum penalty of $750 per day for every day the violation has occurred. Uh, that's since 2007.

I have the right to go to a hearing. I'll go. I'll make my case, which is basic. The flood control people object to a wall I put in between my neighbors house and me. I put the wall in, at considerable expense, with the neighbor's permission, without a permit. They have every right to have an issue with this. On the other hand, the wall was built without any formal reference to any lot lines. We have no idea if the wall in on my property, or the neighbor's property. If they can prove that it is on my lot, I'll take it down. Otherwise, it is the neighbor's problem - technically, anyway.

What do I have to lose anyway? My house is worth about what I owe on it... I could just pick up and walk. But I won't. That's now who I am, that's just not smart, anyway. I'll stick it out - unless...

I'm thinking I'll take a turnip to the hearing. When they start talking about the fines, I'll toss the turnip to them... and if they can squeeze some blood out of it, I'll start selling myself for cash. Otherwise, I'll just sit here and raise my kids. And when I'm done, or there's no hope for recovering, I'll make another decision.

So I got noth'in to bitch about. Crap just keeps flowing down the hill at me, but I plan to keep on handling it. I'll bitch sometimes, but in general, my problems are annoying -- but small. And for that I am grateful.

Holiday bitters so early this year?

I'm starting my holiday pitty party early so that it will be over before it ruins my holidays completely. I found out recently that Thanksgiving is going to be a bust for me.

Mr. Ex is taking the kids (with his mother, again, because she pays for a lot of it) skiing in Utah. It was Thing 1's idea, and I think it is great that they spend time with their dad.

Thanksgiving has always been a holiday that I remember spending with my brother and his family. That was because it was the only holiday they would ever share with us after my brother married, and I was young - maybe 7 or 8 years old. Because my sister-in-law's mother was much older than my parents, my sister-in-law pretty much made it clear that Christmas with our family was OUT of the picture. The reason I always heard was that her mom wouldn't live as long as my parents would. So, after my brother married I remember only one Christmas that we ever had as a complete family again. But our side got Thanksgiving. It was something, anyway.

So every year we had turkey, usually prepared by my mom. It meant a great deal to her, especially since in her young adult life she was the hub for family holidays, especially Christmas. She and her sister would work together and make every Christmas a big family deal. I know those days meant a lot to mom. Her sister was her best friend and the two of them made family Christmas special.

Sadly, my mom's sister, and her best friend, died when she was 32 years young. Not long after that my brother married, and mixed in there somewhere my sister ran away from home at 16. For mom Christmas just was never the same. Thus, it was never the same for me, either. Not that it was bad, but it was never the same as before. Mom missed her son and expressed it, and I'm sure she missed her sister, which she did not express, and my sister was rarely around, either. Thanksgiving was the big one, and Christmas we went through he motions, pretty much. As a kid I felt it the most, I think. The others were all older and had their memories, but they were so, so faint for me. For me it was a real loss, and the principal reason I was given was about was my sister-in-law's mother and her old age.

So when the kids decided to leave me for Thanksgiving I thought it wouldn't be a big deal at all. I figured I'd still go to my brother's house like we have our traditional Thanksgiving, like every year since we moved here, and most years I can ever remember.

Wrong.

I found out last weekend, when I went out with my niece, that their entire family is leaving for the holiday. Apparently my sister-in-law's mother, the one that was not going to be around as long as my parents (not), is having her 100th birthday celebration that weekend.

Special. Very f'ing special.

Forgive my bitterness, please. My sister in law actually stops by here from time to time, and I hope she will forgive me, too. But I'm bitter. I'm God Damned human, I have feelings, and I feel bitter.

We gave up family Christmas because this woman was not going to out live my parents. Well, that assumption was wrong. She did. She out lived my parents. My parents are gone, she is here, and I still feel like my holidays are being fucked with.

We created a Thanksgiving tradition. But not this year, because she is here and she's 100 years old. Fucking ironic, isn't it?

So I'm having my pitty party a little early this year so that by the time the holidays roll around I can enjoy myself. I'll do something. But for now I'm feeling that old familiar feeling of abandonment. I know it isn't about me, I know it isn't personally about me, but I know how I feel. Fucking abandonment. I hate it. I'm pissed off, and I'm bitter.

My kids leaving is one thing. I expect that. But the other stuff feels like shit - probably because it is emotional crap leftover from childhood and stirring that shit up just isn't worth it. Why did this have to happen to rub my nose in all of that again? Ugh. You have no idea how I could go on and on here - that's how deep the cut feels.

I'll be fine by Thanksgiving, though. I'll be all alone here in the stupid desert. Maybe I'll go to the shelter and serve food to the homeless. I hear a good way to deal with bad feelings is to be of service.

One thing I will NOT do is go out for dinner. Mr. Ex and I did that one year for some reason and I remember it being very, very depressing. I'd rather eat an Oscar Meyer turkey sandwich!

Wish me luck neutralizing these bitters. Any suggestions are welcome!

Legacies

My heart is aching for one of my favorite bloggers today, Kirby. Kirby's mom passed away, and I know for certain how much that hurts. It made me reflect on my mom's death back in 2006. I've blogged about it so many times. I guess when something so profound happens in your life it marks you. It stays forever.

I was digging through my heart searching for words to express my condolences to Kirby... which is a fruitless effort, since there's nothing anyone can say to someone that has lost a loved one that will ease their pain. It made me think about my grandma. I learned so much from her life and her death.

You may be expecting a tribute here. If you are, you are in for a surprise.

First, a little background.

My biological paternal grandmother died when my dad was only 9 years old. My dad was raised by a combination of his father and his aunt. Back in the late 1930's there were minimal expectations from a single dad, and my grandpa lived his life accordingly. Don't get me wrong, I don't blame him or harbor ill feelings toward him, but I know that he didn't always make my dad a priority. My dad never talked about his childhood unless he was speaking about his uncles and cousins the visited on the family farm in Missouri. I imagine that dad didn't like to think about his childhood much, but that he had shared his deep feelings with mom in private moments. So I learned about his childhood from my mom. Mom told me about how grandpa occasionally left my dad in the local cafe, and paid the waitress to keep an eye on him when he went to gamble. She told me how he could describe the undersides of the tables in vivid detail. She said my dad had very faint memories of his mom saying that some day they might go live without his dad. Who knows if she would really have ever left grandpa. She died of complications from gall bladder surgery.

My grandpa did his best for the times. He worked in Hawaii in the shipyards, he raised chickens in the basement at some point (I don't know why the basement, but I remember there was a reason), he became a barber at some point. Grandpa hung out in taverns, and that is where he met his second wife, and the woman that I always knew as my paternal grandma. Her name was Norma.

Norma was the daughter of a local tavern owner. The tavern was called Bailey's. Maude Bailey was the owner. As I understand it, Maudy was a tough old bird. There was covert gambling in the basement, and she was somewhat a pawn broker or loan shark, too. It was a small town. My maternal grandpa, from the same town, used to say, "That Maude Bailey would steal from a blind man."

I'm not sure exactly how the process went, but grandpa ended up dating Norma. My guess is that he met her at the tavern. They were in their 40's or 50's and Norma was a spinster. She was a rarity for the times as she had established a career for herself as a typesetter at the local newspaper. She actually did that job until she retired in the early 1970's. Norma wasn't a pretty woman, nor was she particularly feminine. She came by her looks honestly, Maudy wasn't a looker, either. Both women were smart and tough, though.

Physical appearance wasn't the only unattractive feature Norma got from Maudy. Norma was a selfish, spoiled brat. The only person on earth that Norma thought was more important than Norma was Norma's brother. It was a weird thing. I think Norma grew up hearing about how wonderful her baby brother was, so it stuck. She spoke of him as if he was a child, even when they were both old, old, old people. And when both my grandpa and her brother became ill at around the same time, Norma chose to put my grandpa in a home so that she could take care of her baby brother at home. Norma worshipped her baby brother until he died an old man, at home, with her. Yeah, it was weird.

After grandpa and Norma's brother died, Norma lived alone. My parents were retired by then, so they would try to provide her with some company and family connection. It wasn't easy. She was an insufferable crank. She bitched about everyone and everything, just as she had her entire life. She rarely had a good thing to say about anyone.

I was born after she and grandpa were married, so Norma liked me. I was the nearest thing that she ever came to having a child or grandchild of her own. Sadly, that only lasted until she stuck her nose into the middle of an argument between Mr. Ex and me. I snapped at her and she never forgot it. I was added to her very long list of enemies.

My mom was probably the only person that Norma didn't have a fight with. The only reason for that was because mom made a promise to herself that she would never do it. Mom refused to argue or fight with Norma about anything. Norma tried hard to pick a fight with mom. She would dig at her and insult her - not constantly, but certainly whenever Norma was in the mood. Mom wouldn't bite. Not ever. Talk about personal victories. That was a fine accomplishment, mom!

In the end Norma "loved" mom. I say "loved" because I'm not sure that "love" is the right word, but it was the only way Norma loved. She was nasty, cantankerous, and greedy. I think what she said when she was dying describes her best. When she was dying she said, "I don't want to die. I don't want to leave my things."

Yeah, Norma had things. Lots of things. She had things from her grandmother, things from her mother, things from the tavern, things she had acquired and even things that were collateral for loans her mom made. She had things and more things. She had china, crystal, silver, collectibles, and more. Her mother and she were talented seamstresses. They did beautiful needlework and quilting. There were hand stitched linens, needlepoint seat cushions, and mahogany furniture that was in mint condition. Everything was in mint condition regardless of its age. Why? Because the woman was a beast! Being in her house was frightening! One false move and she would take your head off.

Norma was selfish with her things, too. After family gatherings she would have someone wash the dishes and dry while she counted the silver. I'd like to think that she was making sure none were thrown out my mistake, but it's hard so say she wasn't making sure none of us took a piece. The silver is a particularly interesting item for me personally, since she gave specific instructions to my mom that I should never get it. I pissed Norma off once, so she didn't want my mom to ever give me the silver.

Norma died. Not surprisingly, she had to leave her things behind.

My poor parents. They had garage sales, they gave stuff to me (including the silver, ha!), mom put stuff in consignment shops... the stuff just wouldn't go away! It still doesn't go away. I have a bunch of it. Well, except for the mahogany dining room set. Mr. Ex wanted that in the divorce. Meh, good riddens!

The big difference with all the 'things' now is that they are not worshipped. Sure, some of the stuff is nice, but it is just stuff. It needs to be stored, displayed, cleaned, packed, moved... so much energy for what? Stuff and things. There have been times when something was broken, and honestly, sometimes it feels like a relief!

What does all this have to do with Kirby, her mom, my mom, etc? Everything.

While searching for something to say to Kirby I reflected a bit. I remembered what I've learned from Norma contrasted with what I learned from my mom - who are both gone. We all leave a mark when we leave this world. We all chose what the nature of that mark will be. Norma left a mark. I didn't hate Norma, but I'll always remember her the way I have described her. She wasn't a happy person. She couldn't give. She couldn't love. She worshipped things. Sad, really. I'm sure it says volumes about how she felt about herself, and I wonder what hell she lived that made her feel that way, but it doesn't really matter does it?

My mom left a different kind of mark, and it sounds like Kirby's mom left one that is similar in nature. When I think of my mom the absolute last thing I think about is "things" or stuff. I don't remember any of the cross words we certainly shared as mother and daughter. I don't think about her personal struggles or any problems she or we had. When I think of mom I feel warmth, unconditional love, and a tinge of hurt in my heart, because I still long for one more laugh, one more hug, one more conversation.

These two women taught me about the nature of legacies. I learned that we chose our legacy every day. Our legacy is reflected in our daily choices and behavior, and if we are lucky enough to have kids, it is likely reflected in some of their behaviors, too. I don't think about my legacy every single day, but I'm glad that, in general, I have a good idea about what I want people to feel when they remember me someday. I sure hope they don't think about my stuff, and if they blog about me, I hope they can say some better stuff than I have said about Norma.

Thanks, Norma; and bigger thanks to you, Mom.

Psychic / Life Coach experience

O.K., so I'm back to being all about me again. As I reviewed the last post there were still and inordinate amount of I's anyway. But hell, blogs can be whatever works for you, right? For me the process of writing is also the process of organizing my thoughts. It works for me.

A couple of Wednesdays ago I went to the psychic / life coach my niece introduced me to. I'm not sure what to think. Unlike my experience with the medium, where the information I heard was specific and extremely on target, the information from this person was vague. It was also difficult to distinguish what was a "reading" vs. what was an opinion or advice.

Not that this surprises me. I'm a believer in stuff we can't see and all that, but I'm also pretty sceptical. I think it is fun to explore this stuff, and it certainly doesn't hurt anything to stop and contemplate what's going on inside yourself and in your life compared to what someone says they "see".

The fundamental message was that there is potential for me to find a job and a future that matches my passions, and other satisfying stuff in my life, but there is something from my past that must die and must be put to rest in order for that to happen.

Yeah, I know. The first thing I thought of was Mr. Ex. As any regular reader knows, I swirl around in negativity about him, and it just isn't healthy (See, I realize it! It's the first step to change, right?) However, when I mentioned the resentment I harbor about Mr. Ex she said, "No, it is much deeper than that."

Ugh. Could it be the pattern of surrounding myself with people that can rely on me, but can not be there for me when I need them? Could it be that I need to stop regularly self medicating to avoid really dealing with my feelings? Could it be that .... Ugh. After the reading I felt sick to my stomach and went home and collapsed in bed for several hours. I continually ask myself if I'm depressed because I want to sleep so much, but I honestly don't think it is depression. It's almost like I'm in a cocoon.

I pondered this for two weeks now - on and off. I haven't obsessed over it, though. I've concluded that life is all about moving forward from one lesson to the next and that this "waiting" thing I've been experiencing has been about me being afraid to get out there in the world. The lessons sometimes hurt. I've isolated myself, probably so that I won't get hurt again or abandoned again - not just by Mr. Ex, but by Mr. Whatif, all the "friends" I had in Connecticut, my old friend from work, and at times throughout my life, even my family members. I need to readjust my approach to relationships in general. I need to stop giving myself with reckless abandon and assuming that others will do the same. I love unconditionally, which I think is a good thing, but I also need to be cautious about who I give to and how much.

The affair, the divorce, the move, mom's death, the flood, the weight gain, the weight loss... I think they were hard lessons designed to show me that I'm strong and capable. That I don't need anyone to be satisfied and happy. Maybe I had to go through all of that so that my future relationships will be healthier and that I won't make the same mistakes again.

I guess I'm on my way. Like the way tides come in and out gradually, my transition to the next phase is happening. I'm aware and I'm ready to see how well I can adjust my own behaviors as I proceed into the future.

Next weekend my niece and I are going to go to a local bar/restaurant that we discovered a couple of weekends ago. It is an upscale Mexican place very near here, and also near (but not inside) a very upscale resort and spa. The margaritas were fantastic. Ironically, she and I were both thinking that place was a good place to go again, but we hadn't talked about it. Part of both or our hesitation was that the place isn't as budget friendly as we both would like. God bless her, my niece called to see if they have any happy hours. Turns out they are just starting one this coming weekend! Woo Hoo!

I'm going to get out with another single woman. How novel of me! I'm going to get out more after that, too.

I feel the change happening. I'm going to finally let go. I think this cocoon is just starting to to transform. Not quickly, but slowly and gracefully.

This NOT an "all about me" post. Thank God

This article about some kids' reaction to Obama's back to school speech really helped me sigh a sigh of relief.

I'm a leadership skills groupie. When I see leadership at its finest, I just have to smile. Obama provided it, and I am grateful.

I'm sickened with the conservative reaction to our President, the freaking leader of the free world. I feel disgusted that there are people out there that think he is out to brainwash kids. Do they really feel that they are that not influential enough in their kids' lives that a speech will undermine their influence? Really? How on earth can a Presidential speech be so bad that you would keep your kids home from school?

Sure, you will keep them home to go to Disneyland, you will keep them home because the need some downtime (hey, totally guilty of this), you will keep them home for a movie premiere, their grandma, or because they weren't ready to ace a test... but the President of the United States and his message? Oh no. No. No. He is, uh, dare I say it? He is an African American that has messages about ... taking responsibility. Sheesh. What ignorance!

I for one would like to thank President Obama for his message. We all could use some support.

I'm a mom. I'm a single mom.

Every day I try my best to inspire my kids to work hard. To take responsibility. To be the best they can be.

The line I walk is a huge challenge as a leader (parent). They know that I will love them unconditionally. I won't stop loving them if they fail. That is the toughest line to walk for a parent. The message: I want you to be responsible. The message: I am here for you because you are my child, we are human, and you deserve respect and acceptance.

Uh, right here is where the world starts to chime in... they might say, "WTF, will your respect and accept (fill in the blank... depending on YOUR the example will vary)?"

My answer? I dunno. I depends on what is in the blank, I suppose. But, in general, I will care for, love, respect, and support my children unconditionally.

Those freaks that need to have it concrete are just ignorant. Their brains can't do complex, so they simplify and make it "simple" enough for their simple minds to process.

For me, as a parent, my children's journey is about them. It is their life.

I will guide and support as much as I am able. I will love, regardless of my agreement with them, unconditionally. Sure, I'll express my disagreement. I'll try to influence. But in the end, I will always agree to disagree on the principle of love.

What is the alternative? Do you reject your kid because they are not what you think they should be?

Then someone would say, "what about if they were college educated and they choose to buy a house in a slum and sit around and drink all day?" (again, fill in the freaking blank)

My answer, "Are they better off if you don't love them?"

Hey, I'm not saying to a co-dependent. I'm not saying to enable. I'm just saying that love and support builds strong bodies and minds.

So thanks, Obama. Thanks for supporting my message to my kids. Thanks for showing them that other adults have had trials and tribulations. Thanks for encouraging my kid to be their best. Thanks for supporting me as a parent. You are a true leader and an inspiration.

Why is it that other Presidents could speak to the children and no one blinked? Their speeches probably delivered the same message! (Albeit, their message was pure fiction because they were privileged and likely did not relate to most of the audience.)

This is the race issue folks. It is the black man getting all uppity and trying to influence our kids. It is ignorance at its best. (or worst)

Thanks Obama. Thanks for your support. Keep going. Just keep going.

Thanks for some fundamental payback for my vote.

Lazy Day

I'm feeling so much better today.

Yesterday was a crappy day, so today I'm taking a big break. I've been snoozing and being lazy all day.

Yesterday's first disappointment was that Thing 3 was not drafted to his old coach's team for fall ball. That might not seem like a big deal, but it is a deal breaker for us. We have had bad coaches, and frankly, I don't have the energy to deal with building a new relationship with a new coach right now. My son doesn't either. The most disappointing part is that my limited social life was linked to the team that didn't draft my son. So that was a bummer.

The second disappointment was related to Mr. Ex's planned visit this weekend. I was a little suspicious when Mr. Ex planned a trip so soon since the last one, but he was in California on business again and planned to stop here on the way back, for the long weekend. Turns out my suspicions were founded. I guess some things never change. At the last minute he surprises the kids with the news that his girlfriend is going to be here with him! He explained that it is a long flight home and he would enjoy the company. Isn't that special? Does he really think the kids want to share their time with their father with her? Furthermore, her presence supports the recent news that they are considering moving here.

The third and final disappointment was that Thing 3 is still struggling getting along with other kids at school. It appears that the school is very willing and interested in helping him, which is good. We haven't had much luck with this subject at the elementary school level. In the past (elementary school) they would tell him to ask for help if someone was egging him on, or picking on him. Then, when he asked for help, usually nothing was done about it. Either the other kid would deny it, or the adult would ignore the request for help by saying, "just stay away from them", which is stupid because the other kids were following my son around, not the reverse. By the end of last year I had grown sick of conversations with teachers and the principal about this subject, since it was all talk and no action. Where's the accountability for the kids that annoy the crap out of someone until that person finally smacks them in the teeth?

Basically, Thing 3 gets extremely annoyed with other kids, they pick up on it and run with it. It results in bullying behaviors - and Thing 3 gets so angry that I've worried it will result in physical violence extreme enough to get him in real trouble. Given the zero tolerance for physical violence at school, Thing 3 could end up in a lot of trouble, even if the assholes he punches are literally asking for it. In fact, some of these idiots do (ask for it). For example, grabbing something that belongs to Thing 3, Thing 3 tells them to give it back, they say "make me"... that sort of bullshit. If Thing 3 "makes them" give him his stuff back by punching them in the nose, Thing 3 is in deep trouble. However, the person that literally asks for it is not held accountable in any way whatsoever! It is such a bunch of crap! Sometimes an ignorant asshole will only learn one way - the well deserved punch in the nose! (Or am I just too old fashioned?)

I truly don't think the problem is with Thing 3's personal attributes. It isn't that he is an easy target - he bathes, he dresses like his peers, he's a very good student, etc. So it isn't that he's a nerd that everyone just picks on. It appears that it is more related to his being very smart, pretty mature in many ways, and easily annoyed with other kids. They see he's annoyed and they enjoy the reactions they get when they annoy him more.

Oy, this is so difficult for a parent. As if our own personal struggles and hurts from growing up aren't painful enough, when you are raising your kids you have to deal with their hurts, too! Ugh.

So there's my pity party excuses for yesterday. I drank a few too many beers last night, stayed up too late, and got it out of my system in a very unhealthy and dysfunctional way. Woo Hoo!

Today seems much easier... it was a half day of school and I've been a lazy ass all day long. My "sinus headache" (aka beer headache) is gone and I may even feel like having a drink or two with my niece tonight. She wants to celebrate a minor victory in her ex-spouse drama... and I can't say that I blame her. Her battles are often tougher than mine.

Have a fabulous weekend, and thanks for stopping by!

Just Thinking...

Ya know what I wish? I wish I wasn't so freaking deep thinking.

It is a tough load to bear folks.

All of my life I have sought someone to hold me and embrace my depth. Someone that might not go there with me, but respect and appreciate that I can, and that I do.

Someone that feels passion, someone that gets it.

When I think about it, and then think about what I settled for in my life, I feel sad.

Check it out. Seriously.

If you can, find this report on PBS and be impressed with the power of the human spirit. Watch the show, if you can.

When I was posting this last night I was interrupted... this interview is really good, even if you can't catch the show. Very inspiring!

Tales of the Albatross

I haven't been doing much in the way of home projects, but as usual, there's always something that needs attention around here. Homes can really be an albatross sometimes.

Back in 2007 I acquired a brand new central air conditioner / heater package unit. It is a pretty $6000 box that sits on my roof and makes it possible to live on the desert. It is a high efficiency unit that was supposed to save me an enormous amount of money... except I put in a pool the same year and the pool pumps ate up the electricity savings of the A/C, and then some.

In spring 2008 I did the responsible thing and had the service guy come and do the "system check" that we are supposed to do each season. As I understand it they are supposed to check the temperature of the air going in, the air coming out, clean the coils, check the current flow... blah, blah, blah. I assumed he did.

In spring 2009 I didn't get around to having the guy come. It's been bothering me, but not enough to call them.

Lately I've noticed that the house is really dusty. Every time I change the filter it is horribly dirty... but that is what I expect on the desert, especially since I have four dogs that roll in the dirt and come in the house to shake it off. I even noticed that there is dirt coming out of the duct work! I don't know if it is related to the dirty coils, but I thought I should check things out.

I don't really know what I'm doing, but I know that the coils are supposed to be cleaned. I have a flat roof and I went up to see if this was something I could figure out. Glad I did.

First of all, the guy that came here last spring didn't do shit. He didn't even take the cover off. He sprayed some cleaner crap up through the louvers and pretended it actually did something - which it did not. When I took the louvers off the coils were a freaking dirt pile.

I thought I could fix it with some no-rinse coil cleaner. No, even with the cover off it was clear that a hose was necessary. Not only that, I pissed off some bees and the next thing I knew I had a bee sting on my chin! Ugh.

I started to feel funny. I had chills, felt shaky, basically felt weird. I figured I'd better get down to the inside and put something on the sting. It hurt like hell. I put some sting stuff on it, a little ice, and decided I had to go back up before it got dark. I made Thing 1 come up and babysit me in case more bees attacked me or I had some allergic reaction... I think I've only been stung once before.

I took the hose up there and rinsed. Oh boy, what a filthy mess. Also, another pissed off bee. It didn't catch me to sting me, but I'm lucky I didn't fall off the edge of the roof running from it!

It got dark before I could put the A/C back together, so tomorrow, assuming the bees leave me the hell alone, I'll clean a little more and put it back together.

I learned what an aluminum spine fin coil is. I learned how to clean one (I guess), and I learned that there may be pissed off bees up there somewhere. Most importantly, I learned that you can't trust anyone to work at your house unless you watch them. Almost every time I hire someone to do something around here I feel disappointed, or else I have to babysit and ask "dumb" questions so that they know I'm paying attention. I ask you, if you have to go up on the roof in the heat to watch someone work so that they actually do something they are supposed to do, why not just do it yourself and save the money?

I'll tell you why, it's a pain in the ass job, bee stings hurt, and I'm sick of being the fix it queen! That's why!

That reminds me of a funny story. I was at my niece's house the other night having some drinks with she a few of her neighbors. One of her neighbors is a plumber - Geno. Geno is a heck of a nice guy. He, and most everyone my niece talks to, knows that I'm handy. I have a reputation, I guess... not sure it is a good thing, but it is what it is. Anyway, I asked Geno for his business card because a water pipe out by the chickens has a leaky joint. I was telling Geno that I can't sweat pipes to save my soul. I've tried and tried and it never works. Then I tried to hire someone to do it for me and two months later it is leaking again. (See, this is an example of me hiring someone to fix something that wasn't fixed right.)

God bless him, Geno says, "I'll teach you. I'll teach you how to sweat pipes. It is just a matter of a few tricks and then it is easy. I'll teach you." Then he went on to explain that it is important to not use old flux, and that the stuff at Home Depot is no good, and that the pipes have to be super clean and dry, etc...

I didn't tell him that I read all that but I'm still not a professional and have had little practice, and that it is hot out there even without a torch in your hand, and that I'm terribly allergic to the ants that come to the leaking water, find me and bite me, then I'm up all night for a week suffering. I didn't want to offend him and tell him that I hate his job and that I don't want to be a plumber... so I said thanks.

See? Not only can I not find anyone to come do the work around here the right way, if I actually try to hire someone that will do the work and do it right, they want to teach me to do it myself!

Albatross. The house is my freaking albatross.

I'm still thankful to have one, though.