I am not necessarily political, but seriously Republicans, get the fuck over yourselves. The Affordable Healthcare Act is a fucking LAW.
I have never been embarrassed to be an American until now. These fuckers that run our country have shut down our government (whilst getting paid their own salaries mind you) and 800,000 federal workers are either furloughed or being told they are going to work without pay.
Blows my fucking mind how obviously racist and classist this country still is.
Just see this, people. And do it if you can. The Bloggess puts it together so much more eloquently than I ever could.
On a personal note, went to visit my sister this weekend to celebrate what my niece claims is her 8th birthday, but you never know with this child, everything that comes out of her mouth I take with a grain of salt.
Don't trust those baby blue eyes
It was a good visit. It's been a good week, actually. Good to have one before the pre-op (boo!) stuff next week.
Oh, and we had a potluck at work, and I took the infamous pickle dip, and it went over like gangbusters, so here is the recipe. You can thank me afterwards.
8 oz cream cheese, softened
16 oz sour cream
1 tsp garlic salt
1 jar refrigerated pickle spears (preferably Claussen)
Whisk together room temp cream cheese and sour cream until smooth. Roughly chop pickles (do not use a processor; hand chop into bite sized chunks). Add chopped pickles to sour cream/cream cheese mixture.
Refrigerate overnight; serve with sturdy plain potato chips. Stand back and prepare to be in awe.
Cheapest, best potluck recipe ever.
Until next time, here is my Mood Ring(tone) of the Day:
Not bad enough for the insurance to cover the hysterectomy, but enough to cover a LEEP procedure...which yay! Not cancer. But boo! I could have to possibly have to get this done AGAIN down the road, and let's be honest, it sucks ass trying to get time off from my job, and really not looking forward to seeing the gyno every six months, so quite frankly, I was hoping to get everything ripped the fuck out.
I'm never having kids, no plans to EVER, so why not? Stupid insurance; Doc Awesomesauce says that it wouldn't cover a hysterectomy at this point; test results were abnormal, but not THAT abnormal (obviously there are levels of abnormal in the medical field) which is too bad; I was looking forward to 4-6 weeks off from work, with people taking care of me, and pain pills. No such luck. Back to work in a day or two, which sucks, because I have no sick time left, and trying to schedule off time from work from what is basically a call center is hard as shit.
But whatever. I'm going to ask Dr. Awesomesauce to recommend that I'm off at least 6 days for recovery...that way I will get paid. Yes, I'm working the system, but I'm also a big fat wimp when it comes to pain, so knowing me, I will be wallowing in bed for that long after this procedure. Because IT SOUNDS HIDEOUS.
But it's not cancer. So that's a plus.
Pre-surgery: Oct 10, actual surgery Oct 15. Whining and moaning about it: for weeks and weeks after.
Meanwhile, it's almost Friday, and College Football Saturday is almost
upon us, so just one more day until the weekend. It's weird, I've been
feeling strangely sad and alone and missing the Rottenator, which is VERY weird, because he's been here and stuff, but I don't know...maybe it's his preoccupation with Grand Theft Auto 5 or maybe it's just the state of mind I've been in, but I've been feeling VERY alone lately. Doesn't help that we work different shifts, I guess, but it is truly an odd sort of feeling for me, because I usually love my alone time. Ah, well. Hormones, I guess. Zoloft cannot take care of everything. But I'm feeling okay.
Oh, and seriously, why do I like Nicki Minaj? Someone explain to me why I find her so catchy because she is my:
Mood Ring(Tone) Of the Day:
This also brought me great joy this week; it's just fun, and I adore Stephan Merchant.
Thanks for keeping up with me; I'll now go lurk around and keep up with all of you...
It's kind of weird when you are a woman and you realize that you are not necessarily equipt with those natural instincts to procreate and mother young offspring; in fact, you realize that you are more like a panda mom, or an elephant mom who tries to stomp your children to death in order to avoid taking care of them.
My sister is amazemballs and I love her children to death, and when I am privileged to observe what she has to deal with on a daily basis...I am completely in awe.
I don't know where the mominator instinct bypassed me, but it did. Hell, I can barely deal with a moody cat, but I visit my sister and watch her handle three headstrong (albeit hilariously intelligent) children with utmost patience and understanding, and I am completely impressed.
She is patiently answering questions about the same subject over and over again, and tending tantrums and minor injuries with seemingly effortlessness while I am in the background arguing with my nearly 8 year old niece about how she's going to ruin my one umbrella, my ONE umbrella, and you have it on the grass, and now it's half damaged, and I don't care if your birthday is two weeks after mine, it's my birthday this weekend, and give me my umbrella and stop breaking stuff already!
God, you would think I was an only child, and I know that you are already thinking the same thing: thank GOD she has not procreated.
I am an awesome aunt, however. I'll give myself that. There is nothing better than little kids that just love you for you and are so excited to see you when you come to visit. And I will volunteer to babysit them anytime, anywhere, because we always have hilarious adventures together.
And I will always make sure that I'm the one that they can call when they need bail money. All I ask for is a group hug at the end of it like the one I got this weekend.
My sister made sure I had an awesome birthday, full of Crimson Tide and Hello Kitty and pickle dip and pee wee football (those parents are kray kray!) and it was exactly what I needed. Turning 24 (ahem) has never felt so awesome.
Especially the purple Hello Kitty purse...don't hate.
