Health Care

I want to take a minute to talk about health care.

Clearly, I don't usually use my blog on a political front- but that's what blogs are, right? Public forums where you talk about personal injustices, or your cats, or the crown you just got on your tooth, or the final fitting appointment for your gorgeous wedding gown (all of which are relevant to the last 12 hours of my life).

But today, I want to talk about health care. When I moved to Madison, unable to receive health insurance here, I extended my policy from my former job through a Cobra plan- which seemed amazing at first. Reasonably low cost, no fuss with changing to a new plan, and I could continue on with life. Until a month or two into the plan, when I was already living in Madison and realized on my Cobra plan I wasn't allowed to see any doctors OUTSIDE of the state of MASSACHUSETTS. Which is entirely unhelpful when you're 600 miles away, and you're epileptic. Blue Cross recommended I go to walk in clinics or the ER if I needed to seek medical attention- which makes total sense. I mean, that's why I have insurance, after all. So that I can go to walk in clinics.

But I've been healthy and happy and my seizures have been under control, so my health needs have been kept at bay.. until now. Now that I've been on my Cobra plan for 9 months, I'll have to start paying the full premium, which is no longer affordable, so I've been exploring other options (which are few and far between, as private health care is through the roof expensive and I make too much money- a laughable prospect- for Medicaide). Knowing that I'll be married in roughly 3 months time, I figured the easiest thing to do was figure out something for the interim, and then hop onto my husband's plan in February. He called Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield today to figure out the details- since I take a time sensitive medication (that costs $800/ month without insurance, by the way) we wanted to make sure there was no lapse in coverage.

In infuriating calm and friendly demeaner, an agent from Anthem Blue Cross Blue Shield told my fiancee that they won't take me on, even onto his plan, even though I'd be paying for it, because I'm epileptic. He told Charlie not to "waste his time trying".

I'm sorry- last I knew, health insurance was created for everyone. And I'm not even trying to get it for free- I'm PAYING for it.. and one of the top insurance agencies in the country is turning me away? It's absolutely ludicrous that the sick are denied health care because they're just that- sick.

So now, I have no current prospects for a health care plan even just to get the medication I need, and no future prospect for a health care plan after marriage- though I can hold out hope that my next employer offers it. And heaven forbid I get sick or need to visit the ER or see my neurologist because I can't do that either.

This is preposterous.

Nu Shooz

As the big day approaches, things are falling into place- which is exciting. I can't say enough great things about Zappos.com, which was a formerly undiscovered territory for me... I knew it existed, I knew it had cute, albeit moderately expensive shoes, and that was the extent of it. But I seemed to remember that when Mikki was getting married, she ordered 3 or 4 pairs of shoes at once from Zappos and sent all but one pair back with free shipping- so I decided to check it out.

sure enough, Zappos offers free shipping both ways! How cool is that? Who does that? But that's undoubtedly why their shoes all cost more than $90... which isn't necessarily a lot, unless you're making Midwest wages.

to avoid a costly hem, the seamstress told me to get a 3 inch heel- which was a daunting task. I wear heels sometimes... but my feet always end up sore by the end of the night. And then I found the greatest, cutest heels ever, which had 14 glowing reviews praising their comfort and the memory foam footbed... I figured I had to give these a shot.

Turns out... they are the greatest heels ever! I've been wearing them around the house to break them in which is quite a sight, esp when coupled with my purple sweatpants and flannel shirts.

25 Lines

I found this poem i compiled in high school, it was a project for AP English... it's all lines from different poets making one big poem. It turned out pretty cool.... I called it "25 Lines"

Somewhere on the other side of this wide night
The bloodthirsty spring has awakened in the woods.
We are the clumsy passerby, we push past each other with elbows
Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.
If I can keep you attached to me, I can anchor you to the world.
I regret bitterly the years of loving you in both your presence and your absence.
I became a criminal when I fell in love.
Fortunate are those with the gift of knowing
Freedom is such a poor excuse
Self-destruction is the star that hangs burning above me
in the catacombs built by man.
The nights are lonely without him
The room is turning slowly away from the moon.
I know that salvation is on the way...
Or should I cross that out and say this is sad?
I used to tell you my dreams
Morbid fascination kept me hanging on
but don't bother about this--
We are all guilty, we are all sinners
The stranger beside you is the same
I am trying to be truthful
I guess you learn from me.
I love you...
whatever "in love" means.
When it's over, I don't want to wonder.



(I was kind of morbid in my younger years...)

Wicked Game

I've been really into a few things lately when i'm cooking for myself: potatoes, beets, lemon, fresh fennel, and tofu. Generally, all in the same dish.

Charlie's been on my case for replacing breakfast with coffee, so I've been working on little tricks to make the breakfast hour go smoothly. I've realized I'm extremely lazy in the morning. I wake up in order to have a half hour of time to relax, and then use that time to sit on the couch, drink coffee, and either watch the news, or check my email, or both. So I've been preparing breakfast at night so it's ready to go in the morning. Whence forth I open the fridge upon waking and see prepared potatoes, beets, and tofu seasoned in yellow curry like I did this morning, there's no resisting.

Madison finally got it's first snow. On my drive to work Thursday morning I was greeted with a few flurries, and by the time I came home it was coming down like a champ. At least I can put my snow tires to good use.

Yesterday, with my day off, I decided to go to Joann Fabrics early in the morning to get more supplies for the bridesmaids gifts in progress, and other little wedding things. As I was sitting in the parking lot, sipping an Americano and listening to Chris Isaak's Wicked Game on the radio (not a good scene) it hit me that the outside of Joann Fabrics is an awful color of taupe with forest green lettering. Suddenly, a wave of depression hit me- sitting in a parking lot, early morning, in the midwest metropolis of Odana Road, filled with every commercial shopping center you can imagine and equally peppered with shops you'll never enter in your life...

So I texted Non, "Hhhaaaaaaiiiiiiiii don't wannnnnnnnnna fall in looooooooooooove" and she instantly recognized that it was Chris Isaak, Wicked Game, and I was reassured that we were meant to be.

Here, for your listening & viewing (dis)pleasure (it's kind of lewd but at least we'll all be on the same page):



(PS I wrote this entire blog post while listening to that song... yeah, it's creepy, I know)

Billy Joel kinda Day

It's a saturday at the store... I've made a Billy Joel pandora station at Adrian's urging. That man can prompt me to do (almost) anything.

I can see him now, in his sing-songy voice, button-down shirt, handsome face, sitting at his desk (my old desk-- bittersweet memories) in the green Magic Beans office struggling not to sing along to Benny and the Jets in his headphones and answering telephone calls from customers... annoyed to pause right in the bridge of B-B-B-BENNY! Hoping Sarah doesn't look over and see his toe tapping, his fingers jiving on the keyboard as he answers stroller matchmaking emails. Love him.

The Happy Bambino website continues to occupy all of my time. What little time I have left is occupied by my dearest hubby-to-be, wedding plans, bridesmaid-gift-making, and plans for april. Not that I'm complaining, because I'm the kind of person who's built to stay busy. When I run out of things to do in 6 or so months- check back in with me. Hopefully I won't be pregnant, or adopting puppies. I kid! I kid!

Confessions of the Queen Security Guard of the World

I love going through old writings. This piece is SO ME. From the Fogg Art Museum

April 2006.

Humans are funny creatures. I feel like I learn a lot about humanity through the coat room Sunday shift. I can sum up a relationship through one simple question, "Do you guys want me to hang this together?"

It's like I've asked them to define their relationship: sleeping together, seeing each other, dating, boyfriend/girlfriend, married..

Sometimes the answer will be, "We're not together.. but you can put our coats together." followed by an awkward laugh, which I return with a nod.

I feel worst for the couples who come in and one eagerly smiles and enthusiastically says, "Yes!" at the same time that the other one says, "Uh....... well, yes. I mean, sure. That's fine."

Sometimes one feels the need to define the relationship for me, saying, "well... if it means we only get one tag, I guess that's easier..." or "IF they'll both fit together..." I feel like I should take the other partner and pat them on the head and say, "Honey... get out of that relationship, because it's going NOWHERE." If it fits? Two jackets on one hanger? It doesn't take a brain surgeon to know that almost any two jackets can fit on one hanger. And not JUST because I'm the Queen of the Coatroom. I generally end up feeling more like the patrons personal therapist. Sitting behind my desk with a clipboard and glasses, listening to the frustrations of being sent to me to drop off their bags (which have their laptops in them, because they are the type of people that bring laptops to museums), or having to get passes to take pictures, which took an extra three minutes out of their already overstuffed day. And imagine, being asked to leave a backpack or an umbrella in the coatroom! The injustice of it all! And so I'm forced to coddle them; pat their heads, tell them I understand; and all the while hope that at the end of their stay, there's a tip for me so that I can make my way to Starbucks to be coddled by my grande soy caramel macchiato. It's a vicious cycle, it really is; but at the end of the day, I'm glad that I answer to a cup of coffee and not a coatroom attendant.

Humans are strange creatures, especially the ones that frequent art museums.

3 Minute Therapist

Everyone's heard the phrase "retail therapy". Most everyone's probably guilty of the crime every now and again... break up with your boyfriend? buy some new shoes. lose your job? buy a new dress. instant gratification, and there's nothing quite as refreshing as feeling great and getting complimented in a new outfit.

I always understood the concept, but mistakenly thought the "therapist" behind retail therapy was the expenditure of hard earned money and the buying of clothing or household items that seem to redeem your sense of value and self worth.

that is, until I worked in retail (for three + years)

now I understand that as the sales clerk, I am the therapist. Especially in small business, where the success of your business is hinged on your great customer service and helpful, happy, pleasant employees. I like to call myself a "three minute therapist". People come up to the counter and dish their lives greatest woes or biggest joys to me in three minutes... while I'm asking about their day, ringing up their items, wrapping their gifts, and bidding them adieu.

two weeks ago, I was sitting in the store on a rainy tuesday when a woman walked in with teased blond hair, misinformed blue eyeshadow, and a long leather jacket. She was staring at me when she said, "I... have a little problem. Your fence is ok... but my car..." and then she started crying.

I followed her outside to the front of the store, where her car was perched precariously on top of an iron fence outside of our store... fence wedged between the back bumper and the back tire so she couldn't move backwards... and she couldn't move forwards. She continued to cry and said, "I just don't... know... what... to... do"

Quick thinking as I am, I realized that every thursday morning we have a very steady Dad's group that meets. I popped my head into dads group and they all looked up at my invasion as I asked timidly, "Could I get an opinion on something? A... a car thing?" Two of the dads hopped up immediately to our rescue and ran out into the rain to look at this messy situation. We all knew it was bad. My new friend continued to cry, and being the prepared therapist that I am, I patted her wet leather-clad back.

In timing I can only describe as 'divine', my favorite mailman Gil (complete with an amazing handle bar mustache) walked by, in his safari-style rain hat (reserved only for heavy precipitation) and said, "you know what I would do?" and then described to the two dads, my new friend, and myself in complete detail how to jack up the car and rock it off the fence. Which is exactly what they set about to do.

One dad got the car completely jacked up, and the other dad kicked with all his force to free the car from its entrapment on a steel ball topper on the fence. The woman stopped crying and hugged each of us- twice- before leaving. The dads returned to their group... soaked... and I went back to work, a therapy session well done.

I was all-too-pleased to come into work a few days later and see that she'd left a letter for "the automobile angels" highlighted in pink highlighter. I have yet to give it to the dads. but it is thursday.

Mom scolded me recently for horribly neglecting my blog.

I figure between launching a new website at work and planning a wedding, I have license to neglect a blog here or there... but what can you do.

charlie's a big eagles fan. my nights have been spent at the local sports bar (because we don't get the eagles on cable) watching any and all philadelphia teams- eagles and phillies mostly. it looks like the phillies are taking us to playoffs-- see, this is something i never would have considered before, much less blogged about. life takes you weird places.

so february 27 is our day of nuptials. i seem to be a very prepared bride... dad has expressed his thanks that i'm not a "bridezilla"... hah. I'm sure charlie feels the same. tonight we made the journey to men's warehouse to find tuxedos for the big day. it was a success. next up? engagement photos.. wedding bands

Reflection.

Next week is my birthday. 25.

Charlie says 25 was his defining year. He thinks it's everyone's defining year.

I disagree. 24 was definitely my defining year. I.... Lived with two guys in Boston. Traveled to Vegas. My brother fell in love. My sister got engaged. My parents adopted a child. My first cousin got married. I moved across the country. Got a job. Fell in love. Bought a car. Established myself in the Midwest. Made a whole new set of friends. Kept my old ones. Got a credit card. Spent hundreds of dollars at the dentist (sorry mom). Bought a GPS. Spent lots of time missing friends. Jetskied. Learned how to budget (albeit badly). Planned for the future.

In the scheme of my life, though I'm sure to have many more defining years, 24 will definitely be one of the defining years of my young adult life. I look forward to more to come...

Yesterday Charlie and I were out in Middleton, eating lunch at a place called Quaker Steak and Lube (the menu had far too many "lubes" in it for my taste- "Luberita" as opposed to margarita, Lemonade Lube, etc etc- I've made it a personal mission in life to never order a food if I'm uncomfortable saying the name... even the "biker chick salad" seemed a bit obnoxious and derogatory, but it was a great salad so i digress).

About halfway into our meal, we heard the familiar vibration of twin cylinder engines... and out of no where, 150 to 200 motorcycles rolled into the parking lot. and riding on these trusty steeds? a huge pack of wisconsin bikers. now- anyone who knows me knows that this is exactly the kind of activity that makes my day. i mean really. i could have gone home and done nothing else all day and would have been overjoyed. but icing on the cake- a local blues band known as the Blue Olives happened to be there as well, and once the bikers rolled in, the music started. fantastic.

we had the most random and fun saturday, and probably drove around most of dane county two or three times. The weather was gorgeous and not overwhelmingly hot, and it was great to spend a day together having fun and allowing spontaneity to be our guide.

the highlight of the day? Either the motorcycle gang (rallying together to support an end to child violence- love it!) or sitting on the dock in Maple Bluff, overlooking the city at midnight. I love this guy.

Edit- No, Cassie, your dad was not there.