True Story

Works been so busy and I am now addicted to Facebook but for those that still read this, I thought you might find this entertaining:

This is a true interaction I had with someone today at work:


I received a call from a participant that said "My medical coverage was terminated 5/1 for non payment and I wanted to see if I could reinstate" So I pull up her account and sure enough non pay for May so I tell her that unfortunately we cannot reinstate benefits. She goes "Oh really. Cuz I just broke my leg and was hoping I could get them retro instated so I wouldn't have to pay for this"
Webster's Dictionary definition of insurance:
–noun
1.the act, system, or business of insuring property, life, one's person, etc., against loss or harm arising in specified contingencies, as fire, accident, death, disablement, or the like, in consideration of a payment proportionate to the risk involved.

Memorial Day weekend

With the three day weekend upon me I find myself in a pickle. Part of me, probably the part that still thinks I can party like a RockStar, wishes that I had big plans this weekend; camping or a trip or even a party. While, the other part of me, the adult 31 year old who has worked too many hours in the last month, is glad to have three days with nothing planned but couch time with hubby.
Three day weekends are interesting when you really think about them. Whenever there is a three day weekend you can always expect the usual battery of questions “Do you have plans? Going anywhere this weekend? Planning a BBQ?” yet on a normal weekend we never think to as this question. Should 1 day really dictate plans of grandeur? I think maybe we should treat every weekend like it was something special because after all, isn’t it? Two uninterrupted days, no work, no obligations other than what we obligate ourselves to do in those two days should be celebrated.
In closing – celebrate your weekends regardless of length. And always party like a RockStar!

What has facebook taught me?

I've suddenly found myself on facebook. I know, I know - I've sworn off myspace, I've made fun of my friends who lived by their top 5. When facebook came on the scene I was just as adamant - no facebook. Then recently while some friends were over for dinner they were touting the praises of facebook and how it would help hubbies business. Days later we found ourselves addicted to facebooking. The miraculous idea behind facebook is that you can be friends with someone you haven't seen since grade school or worse - high school *gasp*.
In "friending" people I've ran across many old chums from high school. A couple I've "friended" others crossed my mind for the first time in over 10 years. Tonight I was looking at friend’s facebook pictures. Not only did they have pics from HS but their current life as well. I thought the contrast was interesting. Not only because this friend happens to look completely different (both inside and out) rather due to how in older age have we tended to refine ourselves. In all of the pictures from HS they have posted they are surrounded by a crowd of people all smiling and cheesing it up. In the captions they're named a few of the folks in the picture; I imagine the ones that they are still close with.
The current day pictures they have posted are interestingly of only a few people. From the captions you can tell that the people surround them are close a small hub of friendship and love. Everyone has the same shining smile their eyes and lines of inner circle secrets playing around their eyes. When looking at the pictures you automatically smile because you can tell that the group smiling back at you is having a great time.
It is amazing how we change as we grow older. In our teens we want nothing more than to be surrounded, large, impersonal groups of people. Thinking this will make us feel included, normal, accepted. Then as we grow older and learn about the important things in life. We learn that a large crowd does not show others you are accepted or normal or even for the most part included. We learn that having a few close loving people around us make us feel special, normal, accepted. And isn't that all we really want?

Chicken

Today while I was eating my lunch (Cobb salad with chicken breast on it) I was thinking about the chicken on my salad (it is grilled) and how much I like “crispy” chicken on salad. Thinking about this took me to dinner last night. After assisting a family friend with taking pictures of her daughter she invited us to stay for dinner. While the adults grubbed on Rubio’s my friends’ young 3 year old daughter had leftovers from her lunch earlier that day which was popcorn chicken from KFC. I didn’t think about it until just now; how interesting as a society we’ve moved from making our children eat the drumsticks to giving them the breast or chicken stripes. When I was a kid the only type of white meat chicken the kids received were Chicken McNuggets from McDonald’s, and the type of meat there is definetly in question.
In my family (and by family I mean extended family; grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins) when we had Fried chicken (and it was always fried – lets be honesty there was little in my families meat cooking repartee that wasn’t fried) the kids were always stuck with the drumsticks. In family we had a chauvinistic approach to meal time:

The women cooked the meal and waited on the men.
The men sat around bullshitting and yelled for the women to bring them another drink.
The kids played far away from the men and were seen but not heard.

Once the meal was prepared – there was a prayer (of course) by the leading patriarch of the family – usually my grandfather. And then the organized chaos began. The men folk always ate first, taking the juiciest and biggest pieces of chicken for themselves. After having their pick, the adult women got in there and took the next best pieces. Finally like buzzards around a fresh carcass the kids were allowed to swoop. Their swooping was done in the same sexist manner – boys first then girls.
I was actually pretty luck I very rarely had to wait until the end, mostly because I was the baby of the family and 1 of 2 granddaughters. This meant that usually either my mother gave me some of her food or one of my older male cousins would make the other boys let me go first (I was cute – what can I say).
Aw but I digress – back to the main topic, what in our society has changed that makes the drumstick no longer the king of the kids?

3 Things I learned before 6:30am

1. Being awake at 630am is too early.
2. My dog is really great at pretending she’s asleep when the cat comes in our room in the mornings. Then when she can’t hold her excitement much longer she jumps up like a valasoraptor and starts wagging her tail and jumping as if to say to Fudgee Feet “Good morning Fudgee Feet! I saw you the whole time, let’s play”. To this Fudgee Feet jumps straight in the air and high tails it out of the room. Guess he thinks 630am is too early to play also!
3. Our yard has a lot of snails in it. I think I have a predisposition to liking snails (I know one likes snails, but I think they get a bad wrap). First of all I like pretty much all forms of life (with the one minor exception of snakes which in my personal opinion is not a life form but rather an evil scary slithery creepy thing). Second of all I grew up in Folsom where my favorite city contest was the Great Snail Race (sadly when I went to find a link to this fun event I could not, I am not even sure they still do it). Every year when snail race time would come around the morning of, I’d wake up early to go find my racer. I always picked several, in case one had a hot spot or was caught with steroids and couldn’t race that day. Then I would put them in a shoe box with lots of grass and twigs and lettuce (everyone knows that a snails favorite pre-race food is lettuce) and air holes and off to school I’d go. I never won. Not even in the in class contest but I was always hopeful. Then after the race I always wanted to keep my snails which my mom never allowed (I don’t know why, its not like they were hard to clean up after). Interesting fact snails can sleep for up to 3 years!

Lost in my own head

Do you have hear yourself talking and have to stop in your head because while what you said is accurate your not really sure how you knew the answer? I feel like that a lot at work. It’s almost like I am making stuff up but I really do know what I am talking about I am just sure how I know what I know. It’s a very odd feeling. I wonder if other people do that. I mean do surgeons get in the middle of surgery and think “Hmm, how do I know how to remove this appendix? I know how, but how do I know how?” That’s kind of a scary thought right?

Scattered thoughts:

This is going to be a scattered post as it is Monday and my brain is zipping around like a hummingbird who found a new feeder.

Saturday Rick and I went to breakfast at Dad’s Kitchen (If you haven’t been there check it out – great food and fun hipster ambiance). It was early-ish (only about 9a) and pouring down rain so the restaurant was not very full, besides us there were only 3 other tables of people. After ordering and having our java delivered another table of 6 older ladies came in. From all appearances it seemed like they were maybe co-workers or a group of mall walking friends (are you getting the visual). I fully admit that I am a conversation hustler. I LOVE to eavesdrop and let me tell you – these ladies were all too willing to oblige. Needless to say we found it very difficult to talk because we were both cracking up and eavesdropping. Over the next 45 minutes we overheard the following statements:
• “Well finally after 20 minutes I had enough and I just turned to the group of them, 8 total, 1 girl the rest boys, and said ‘have you ever heard of bowling etiquette?’” I am sorry, I must have been absent from academy the day Miss Manners covered Bowling Manners. Eat with your mouth closed – check. Napkin in your lap – check. Don’t interrupt people – check. Bowling politely – declined.
• “Oh ladies did I tell you, my nephew was exonerated and he’s started smoking it again”. Oh heavens smoking it again? Didn’t anyone tell you smoking IT can cause cancer?
• “How can I get 3 dollars back in change? My breakfast we $8 plus tax” “Oh don’t worry about it, it’s the new Stimulated package” (and no I did not typo just now. She did not say Stimulus package she said Stimulated. Bet Obama didn’t know he was giving old ladies that when he signed the ARRA into effect!)

As a child my favorite playground equipment was the swing set. I loved to swing what kid doesn’t. It’s truly the closest we get to flying (without jumping out of a plane). I remember trying to swing so high and try to flip over the top. Of course that never happened but it was always worth the effort. I also loved swinging and jumping off in mid-air, so what if it hurt to walk for the rest of the day I was having fun! You don’t see swing sets anymore at playgrounds. People think they’re “to dangerous” I harrumph at that. My generation had them and lived to tell the tale. We also had metal slides that would scorch your bare legs in summer and we loved it! Or the merry go round that was all metal all your friends would get on and one sucker would have to run around and around and around until it was spinning so fast everything was a blur and you thought you were going to puke. Those were fun playground things. These stupid plastic shenanigans that are nestled in a bed of rubber bark are ridiculous. We’re raising a society of wimps. It’s a right of passage to burn your butt on the slide and to fall in the bark and get splinters so small it takes a week for them to work their way out. Rubber bark is preposterous.

On the kid topic, yesterday I was at Red Robin with my mom and a group of breeders sat behind us that had a toddler, the snotty drooly kind. It found me fascinating; I found it damp and slimy. It kept trying to touch my hair and while I know I have great hair but hands off Slimer. The parents (and my mother) thought it was hilarious. They even thought I was witty when I told the little mutant that if it touched my hair again I’d saw its germ infested fingers off – ha ha ha, I wasn’t joking, stop touching me! Why is that acceptable? Oh wait its not. I will eat your young do not leave unattended.

I think that’s all of the random thoughts I can conjur for now – till tomorrow, g’day.

1 thing I learned before 6:30am this morning

1. I don’t like being awake before 6:30am

3 Things I learned before 7:30am

1. My dog is ridiculous and she makes me smile. In the mornings when I am getting dressed and ready for work she acts like she’s sleeping then when she sees that I am just about ready she sits up and does the thing with the ears as if to say “Don’t forget about me! I have to get ready too!” I could never forget about her – she’s too darn cute!
2. If you act like you’re in a good mood you can pretty much convince everyone around you. The trick is trying to convince yourself.
3. It takes a long time to get to Friday but when its here I am so glad.

4 Things I learned between 8:00am this morning and 2:00pm this afternoon

1. Cinnabon Cinnamon Rolls Rock. They are the best thing in the world and I don’t understand why the franchise doesn’t branch out and have free standing stores. The only time I have Cinnabon is at the airport. Doesn’t matter if we have a morning/afternoon/night flight I have to have a Cinnabon (and a Mile High Bloody Mary if we’re leaving from Sacramento). Today my coworker shared hers with me –so tasty!
2. The epidemic they’re calling Swing Flu is ridiculous. Know what Swine Flu is? Is a damn cold/flu that the Flu Shot doesn’t immunize you from and rather than the big drug companies admitting that, they make up stupid shit like “the Bird Flu” or “the Swine Flu” and call them epidemics and then people start walking around like idiots with surgical masks on. Its ridiculous.
3. I am very sorry for people out there that have lost their jobs. I feel for you. I can only imagine the strain both mental and financially that it puts on you, your family and your daily life and I am very sorry that you are having to experience that. That being said it is not okay for those people to be mad at me because they no longer have a job and I do. The fact that I have a job and they do not does not make me a bad person or an incompassionate person. It makes me a person with a job, period. I realize that since my position has me dealing all day with unemployed people that I maybe more immune that most but its not my fault companies close. Its also not my fault in a terrible economic time you were stupid and got dismissed for cause. It irritates me when people think this should be my problem.
4. I like to drive fast with the radio turned up really loud. It makes me feel happy. It might be childish and lame but I like it. Puts a smile on my face. I especially like to drive fast in a rental car.

ALSO 2 POSTS IN 1 DAY. Biiiittchh pleeze!