I Think There May Be Something Seriously Wrong With Me

All Aboard The Crazy Train

This blog is a lot of things to me.  It is where I can rant and rave.  It is where I can pour my heart out and where I can make some of you laugh.  it is also where I can spill my guts about how truly insane I am at times.

The Boy is married.  Been married for quite some time.  I do not know what his wife looks like.  Most days I'm OK with that but sometimes I'm not.  I'd just like to see her one time.  (Or maybe 100.) 

I stalked his sister on Facebook.  Actually I stalked both of his sisters on Facebook.  Of course since I'm not friends with either of them I totally had to create a fake Facebook person so I could be in their network.  One sister has an open profile and the other one has it so you have to be her friend to see her profile.  Of course the "open" sister doesn't seem to take many pictures and most of her pictures were added by the "hidden" sister.  I did find a picture of all the brothers and sisters, there are 6 of them, but I never found a picture of the wife.

I'm positive if I could see the "hidden" sister's profile I would find a picture of the wife.  I even had the crazy thought of trying to add her as a friend.

So there it is... I'm a crazy lady stalking girls on the Internet to see the wife of the guy who was no good for me to begin with.  Am I the only one that's this crazy?

WTF?!?!?

Are you kidding me? 

Someone please explain this to me? 

Who thought it was a good idea? 

Who watches it? 

And why the hell is Ponyboy involved in it?

Yummy!

See here's the thing... I would so teach him how to kiss if he wasn't so good.  However, I bet he could blow my skirt up just by looking at me sideways.

I'm Crushed

Remember George?  He's a not so good kisser.

OK it's not like it was gross or anything but it certainly didn't blow my skirt up.

Think I can train him or should I just take a pass?

It's Amazing That I Don't Go Postal

It's pretty well known that I have a real hatred for insurance companies.  This hatred goes back to before I got fired/quit my job and went back to school but it has definitely gotten worse.  I'm sure I'm not the only one who hates insurance companies.

Yesterday I came home form school and found 6 EOB's waiting for me.  All of them were for treatment/doctor's visits from 11/07 or 12/07.  It's nice to know the insurance company got right on my claims.  As you may know I had a boob problem in late '06 and another one in late '07.  I'm really lucky I don't have three boobs or I'm sure I'd have another boob problem in late '08.  I opened up the EOB's and every single one said the insurance company would not be paying the claims because of a pre-existing condition.  WHAT?!?!?!?

I very calmly called and asked what the deal was.  (I swear I really was calm.)  The woman one the phone explained that in '06 when I had the problem with my left boob they also found a few small, BENIGN cysts in my right boob.  Because I had  previous cysts in my right boob that made my recent claims deniable due to a pre-existing condition.  The insurance company would not pay for any service to my boobs until the one year pre-existing wait period was up.  (I switched insurance companies in October '07.)

Now I suppose I should have realized all of this but I didn't.  Naive I know.  I then asked, "Well what if I had breast cancer now?"  The lady explained that since I had symptoms or pre-cursors to breast cancer they would not pay any claims related to breast cancer until the one year period was up.  To me this means... do not go back to the doctor about your boobs until after October of 08.  I asked her to explain it one more time and she she explained that since I had symptoms and treatment in '06 I would not receive any benefits for anything regarding either boob until after October of '08 and that also they wouldn't pay for anything to do with my boobs unless it was also DIAGNOSED after October of '08.  I simply hung up  pretty distraught because the bill for this round of boob work is going to be very expensive.  (I just had another mammogram and sonogram two weeks ago just to make sure everything looked ok right now.)

I went to yoga thinking that would help calm me down.  And it did.  When I got home I decided to look at the EOB's again just to try and figure out what my bill might be.  I realized that one of the EOB's was for a pap smear.  I had just assumed they were all for my boob by looking at the dates.  I realized they had denied my claim for a pap smear for a pre-existing condition.  It was too late to call last night so I called the insurance company this morning.

"May I please speak to Debbie?"

"May I ask whose calling?"

"Lola, I need to speak to her about a claim that was denied."

"Please hold."

I held for twenty minutes.  I'm not kidding.  I timed it.

"May I help you?"

"Hi Debbie this is Lola.  I spoke to you yesterday about a denied claim.  I was looking through my EOB's and I just realized you denied a different claim to pay for my pap smear.  Could you explain this to me?  My benefits say that you pay for pap smears."

"We do."

"Then could you please explain to me why my claim was denied?"

"You'll need to hold on while I pull your file."

Waiting for a long time...

"We denied it for a pre-existing condition."

"Yes Debbie I see that here on the EOB.  That's why I'm calling.  I do not have a pre-existing condition IN MY VAGINA."

:Big Sigh:  "Ma'am I'm just telling you what the records say."

"Debbie I have had this vagina for several years now and I think I'd be aware of a pre-existing condition.  I'm pretty on top of things that have to do with that area.  I DO NOT HAVE A PRE-EXISTING CONDITION IN MY VAGINA!"

"Ma'am perhaps you should call your doctor."

I hate the fuckers.

Sometimes The Conversations Are Just Unbelievable

You might not remember it but my mother was very concerned about Katie Holmes at one time.  Seems like she still is, among other things.

M:  Do you think Katie Holmes is going to leave Tom Cruise?

L:  How the hell would I know?

M:  Well I saw something while I was in line at the grocery store and it made me wonder.

L:  OK but just because a tabloid says she's leaving him doesn't make it so.

M:  I KNOW THAT!  But I want her to leave him.

L:  So send her a note.  I'm sure she'll be grateful for your concern.

M:  Can't you call {childhood friend who works in the entertainment business} and find out?

L:  No.  I cannot call him and ask him that question.  I have to save up my questions for important stuff.

M:  Damn.

L:  You know what we should do this summer when I come to visit?  We should go to Clearwater.

M:  Why should we go to Clearwater?

L:  We can see if we can observe some cult activity!

M:  No an alien might jump in our bodies.

L:  No, no mother... we already have aliens in our bodies.

M:  I know but if they are expelling aliens where do those aliens go?  Maybe they jump into other people.  I don't need more than one alien in my body.

Dear Cute Is Never Enough

Yesterday I received another hate letter.  The person wrote: 

Dear Lola,

Thank you for doing this.  I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the opportunity to get all of this emotion OUT of my system!

When I started this blog this was my place to get it all out. I was very hurt and angry and needed to find a way to let it out without actually saying horrible things to the person who had inflicted my pain. Now you may ask why I, or any other person, wouldn’t say the things they feel to the person who inflicted the pain? Because more often than not they simply don't give a shit. Obviously if they did they wouldn’t have been such an asshole to you.

If this helps one person feel better then I feel better. Sometimes you just have to spew a bunch of hate to get to a better place. Its sort of like gas… you always feel better once it’s out. So feel free to email me your hate.

Today’s letter (which I totally get):

Dear Cute Is Never Enough,

You are the most toxic human being I have ever had the misfortune to meet and I hate you with a passion I never felt I was capable of feeling.  You should have a warning label tattooed on your forehead warning away any woman who has the terrible luck of coming into contact with you.  You are a sociopath who inflicts his brand of dysfunction and pain on anyone with no concept of the effect you bring about and why you are still breathing on this planet is a mystery to me.

And please, you are not all that.  Get real.  You are short and not that smart.  What you have is a cuteness about you but cute is never enough.  You are ugly on the inside and that never changes.  Once that cuteness is gone, and it's fading fast, you will have nothing.  You are a bitter, lonely, socially and morally corrupt piece of shit.  You will die alone.  And you deserve it.

Hate Letters Take Two

A while ago this blog went through a period of hatred.  It was cathartic.  I always said I would continue to publish the letters as long as I got them.  Well I got one today.  It's a doozy.

I Hate you . I wish you would die, i hope you will OD for real. I absolutely despise you and regret ever being associated with you. You are disgusting and a nasty horrible person. You are the worst friend i ever had. You are sick. I wish i could erase you from existence. I wish you would disappear. And i wish i could kick you in the face until nothing was left, but i wont because i am sane and don't want to go to jail. duh

You visit the club and you sit across the room like an idiot making faces at me, fuck off and die.

choke on a dick a pill your vom your filth whatever just choke and die and get out of my life. or maybe you can actually get a real eating disorder say 80 pounds or less and keep going until there's nothing left and you die from anorexia.

die scum!

Anyone else feeling the hate?  Email me and let it all out.

Haiku

Because Murph asked if we could do haiku.

shots hurt me ow! ow!

horse pills make me gag ack! ack!

pneumonia sucks ass

I WANT IT!

I borrowed these images off of another blog without pemission.  I would have asked permission but there is no contact information listed on the blog.  I want to buy this piece of art and just have no idea how to go about it. 

Art is supposed to speak to people and this piece sings to me.  It tells me things I don't want to hear and reflects back to me things I don't want to see in myself but certainly must face.  Growth could come out of owning this piece.  I just don't know how to acquire it.  The piece or the growth.

Four Words

Pneumonia

King Kong

Tears

Thank You For Proving My Point

Wednesday I was running around with S.  The following conversation took place and I got my feelings hurt.

S:  Look at that bumper sticker.

Hate is not a family value.

S:  Do people actually think that people teach their children to hate?

L:  Of course, plenty of people teach their children to hate blacks, Jews, and homosexuals just to name a few.

S:  Well I can understand the homosexuals because there is basis in the Bible.

L:  OK so people can teach their children to hate Jews and blacks?

S:  Well why do you think people teach their kids to hate the Jews?

L:  Because the Jews killed Jesus.*

S:  The Romans killed Jesus.

L:  But some people believe the Jews put them up to it.

S:  I know plenty of Christians that don't have any problems with Jews.

L:  I'm just saying that the people who profess to have 'family values' don't always have the best values themselves.

S:  I just think you think ALL Christians are prejudiced.

L:  Hmmm

So I got my feelings hurt.  Her tone seemed to indicate that she didn't believe I am a Christian.  And whether I'm a Christian or not really doesn't matter but her tone seemed to suggest it was me against the Christians.  maybe I'm just sensitive but her judgment of me hurt my feelings.  It also proved my point that some Christians feel "if you aren't with me, you are against me."  Fuckers.

*I don't personally believe this.

AWWW Thanks

JustTug gave me an award.

I don't know what to say except thank you.  (And I'm so glad there isn't an awards ceremony because I don't have a thing to wear and the Botox hasn't kicked all the way in yet.)

The rules of the award are as follows:
1. Identify the originator of this award, and link so she can get her well-deserved traffic. That would be Kayla at Project Mommy.
2. Pass on at least 10 Excellent Blog Awards.
By accepting this Excellent Blog Award, you have to award it to 10 more people who’s blog’s you find Excellent Award worthy. You can give it to as many people as you want but please award at least 10.

So here are my 10 (in no particular order):

An Aquarium Drunkard because music is my life.

Grateful Dating because it's hard to be grateful about dating.

Crazy Days & Nights because I'm crazy for good gossip.

PhDepressed because she breaks my heart.

The Life I Save because she is so very brave.

With All Due Respect because she reminds me of someone but she's waaaay funnier.

Be The Boy because even though he is no longer blogging everyone loves a good love story.  (Or at least I do.)

Secrets I Can't Keep because I love the way she writes.

This one because it's real and crazy and real.

And last but not least Murph and Macek both get honorary mention because even though neither of them really blogs anymore when they did it was always so so good.

The Prejudices of People Constantly Amaze Me

Overheard while walking into Blockbuster:

Grandma:  Why do they have weird words on the door?

Granddaughter:  That's for people who speak Spanish, Nana.

Grandma:  Well it's not like they can understand the movies once they rent them.  Blockbuster should just be concerned with people who speak the language.

The Yoga Must Be Working

Yesterday I really, really wanted to skip my second class.  I felt really strongly about not going.  (It is super boring and taught by a hobbit.)  S talked me out skipping.  Actually she shamed me into not skipping.  So I started walking across campus, bitching all the way.

To get to the building the class is in we could either walk the long way around or walk across an expanse of land where a building had been recently knocked down.  Walking across the expanse of land was much quicker.  It looked a little muddy but seemed OK.  Right before we got to the sidewalk I stepped into a mud-filled hole.  UP TO MY KNEE.  I could feel my left Chuck fill with mud.  I look over and S is dying laughing. 

The whole bottom of my left leg was covered with mud.  You could not even tell what kind of shoe I was wearing.  The bottom of my leg looked like I had a shit shoe on.  It was horrible.  I made my way to the sidewalk.  I stood there for several minutes completely silent with one shoe on and one shoe off while S switched between trying to console me and laughing hysterically at me.

Normally a scene like this would cause me to have either a mini breakdown or a mini rage; however I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "Someone out there has acknowledged that I do not want to go to class and offered me a solution."  S, of course, thought I was acting crazy.  I then drove home with one shoe on and one shoe off.  (I'm not sure why I left the right shoe on but I did.)  I changed clothes and happily went back to school for my third class of the day.

The yoga must be making me calmer.