Hobbies=

Bank. Literally. I would need mucho money IN the bank to do most of the things I want to do. I would also need daylight hours to stick around, and for my hands not to turn blue after taking five photos. Such is life. I also need a sewing machine. Perhaps I could covertly take my mother's out of the house without her noticing. Probably not a good plan.

Health Insurance...

does not grow on trees. But a former supervisor vehemently begged to differ. She was equal parts pretentious and moronic. She argued that you could walk into any hospital without health insurance and they would be able to strike affordable deals with you. The fact that she used such a term shows hospitals are similar to loan sharks. The "deal" they will provide will include daily phone calls from collection agencies and severe damage to a credit score. This swell little offer doesn't stop there. Generally even a minor procedure without insurance will result in owing an equivalent to one year of higher education. I wondered if she was independently wealthy, but I snapped to my senses when I realized she got a free ride from the government because her husband was in the Navy. Oh well. Such luxuries can't erase the fact that she is violently annoying as a human being.

Seeing as I currently cannot afford $400 a month for health insurance I am living life dangerously without it. Relying on Planned Parenthood for the bare minimum they can offer... I make just under the limit to have these services rendered free of charge. It's a slight relief, but at the same time checking Web MD compulsively when something just "doesn't feel right" is not the same as having a regular doctor.

Today alone I convinced myself that my persistent yet mild stomach bug was the result of severe food poisoning and it was only a matter of time before I would become paralyzed. The symptoms matched perfectly...there was no way I was wrong. Earlier in the day I clearly had some form of stomach cancer. (Yet I was still weighing the odds of buying a purse instead of going to a doctor...couldn't have been that bad.)

Health Care is a different issue than Health Coverage. Of course if I were a multi-millionaire who elected to live life outside the parameters of insurance I could easily afford and obtain health care. But this is not the case for the vast majority of Americans. I graduated college and was kicked off of my father's health insurance the day of commencement. It was like a bitter break up. I only recently threw out the prescription and ID cards. For months I foolishly thought that maybe I could still go to a doctor and no one would realize the difference as long as I flashed those pieces of plastic in their direction. Much like a lost love that can't let go, you think maybe...just maybe... things could still work out.

But as of right now I am still in the bitter stage. I work for a small company that does not pay money toward employee insurance. It seems cruel but this is becoming the norm. Workplaces used to take care of those working full-time...but such instances are going by the way of cradle to grave jobs. I accept the change. I would go legitimately insane if I worked at the same company from 21 until 65. If people are accepting these changes regarding work habits, why isn't America adapting health-wise? Health is the single most important component in regards to human life. Seems like a simple...even stupidly obvious concept. But Insurance companies make such a necessary thing out of reach.

I am really not much for politics, but I hope that things start to change in a modern direction. Health...not war. (I hope that ends up on t-shirts) Because I am pretty damn sure that each time I assume I have a terrible disease thanks to google...it actually takes more minutes off my life.

This is your captain speaking...

I think "advertising" tactics have gone too far. This includes the text I received recently saying that "sam" (Lowercase... because we are apparently quite informal with each other) wanted me to visit a Viagra site. Clearly this Sam does not know me very well afterall. I am a female who happens to be dating someone under the age of 80. I am not a prime candidate for the audience they are attempting to reach. Albeit amusing... I don't want to pay 10 cents for receiving such a message. Is there a "Do Not Text" list yet?

I also received a phone call today which at first sounded like it was taking place at Barnum and Bailey's circus. Unintelligible noises, people yelping...I imagined monkeys crossing tight ropes. After I said Hello loudly multiple times... a jovial man exclaimed that my captain (him) was speaking. Huh. The vision switched now, to a Star Trek inspired setting. Visions of stars and far-off planets filled my head. The "captain" continued to tell me how I could win a cruise by entering some contest. What? A cruise? Oh right captains run those things too. I hung up the phone laughing. That was my favorite recorded message yet. Except for the three voicemails from someone in the middle of Florida who did not listen carefully to my voice mail message declaring my name. All of the messages were mumbled. Something about her leaving for work, saying to call back? I think a "Charles" was mentioned? I don't know him either.

The point is, well there isn't one. But I just don't want to be bothered by such things in my electronic life (or my real life either). If I suddenly find I need copious amounts of Viagra...I'll call you. The same goes for a contest in which I could win a CRUISE!!!! From that phone call alone I know that's the last vacation I would ever want to go on. But maybe some people enjoy that sort of thing.

Just as I was cursing out Troy...

3 large men shoved my car out of the ice it was floundering on.

After spending a good 40 minutes picking at the precipitation mixed with exhaust whilst shoveling until I hit pavement...I decided the car would likely be movable. I start my princess up...and the wheels did nothing but spin. Perhaps they even moved one centimeter. I started swearing I would never live in a place that required street parking again. No, I promised myself I would never live in a place that required a car, period. As I slammed my skull against the headrest repeatedly in frustration...a man with glassy eyes and pupils that spanned his entire eye socket walked by. Normally I would pray that someone would be so kind as to offer help. But I don't think I wanted assistance from the resident crack head.

I climbed out of the car almost face-planting on Second Avenue. A bus flew by; dangerously close to taking my young life. I continued picking at ice like a fisherman on a frozen lake. Though instead of catching fish...I would have the "privilege" of DRIVING my CAR. How novel. I took a few breaks to stare at people passing by. Pleading with my eyes for assistance, but I was too prideful to speak up. I moved forward, while almost convincing myself that it would be worth having the car towed on Tuesday in order to have it mobile again. $100+ seemed reasonable to me; so long as I didn't have to shovel dense snow blanketed by car fumes anymore.

Some people beeped and yelled at me as I kept at it. I realized later I had no idea what they were saying. Most around here speak a language unto itself...not quite English...maybe even closer to prehistoric grunting. Maybe they were offering words of encouragement. Maybe my attire was too radical like I'd been told so politely this previous summer. The only sure thing is that they should really mind their own damn business and read a book. Or a dead sea scroll because that's how evolved they seem to be. Perhaps their language has no written form yet, which would explain quite a bit. But they sure have mastered car horn technology.

Just as I was looking toward the sky pleading to a God I am not so sure I believe in, a man across the street asked if I would like him to try to get the car out. I enthusiastically said "yes", "please", and "thank you" thirty times consecutively. He also had trouble. At one point I covered my face because I honestly believed my tire would fly off and take my head with it. Shortly after, two other well fed men stepped outside of the small diner across the street I had eaten at mere hours before. Both of them pushed the back end of my car, as the original savior was steering. It finally jolted forward into safe territory. I rejoiced, and said my thank yous profusely. They laughed a little and responded with a nonchalant "you're welcome" as they sauntered across the street for more coffee and bacon.

Things to Do...

These are not "New Year's Resolutions"; but rather lifetime resolutions...as in I hope I do them before I am 80. If not I will be forever disappointed.

1.) Write more (Meaning: write things I wouldn't mind others seeing.)
2.) Learn to really use the beautiful camera I just bought.
3.) Buy a sewing machine...relearn to sew. (We all know I hate most clothing on the market...or the clothing I can actually afford. It's time to make my own shit.)
4.) Buy a damn GRE book...I guess.
5.) READ.

So I already exercise often, and I don't want to obsess over saving money because I do that. I hope this sets me apart from the banality of most resolutions that never come to fruition.

Many irons in the fire

...as they say. None of which I am terribly interested in, but hey that's how it goes when you graduate with a liberal arts degree. Grad School is looking more and more like something I want to do, but the price tag deters me like every other little thing. (Including replacing my 12 year old car, with something new...er) Worrying is for old people, like my Pop Pop, and my parents.

I've had a brutal UTI this past week, and may or may not have passed fragments of kidney stones again. Never a better time to be lacking in health insurance. The game you can play with it is exciting though. I get to place bets with myself regarding how much of one I can pass in one sitting. Urinating blood? That's ok, it's a good sign that there is still blood pumping. I must drink upwards of 50 ounces of water per day, is that not enough? Am I 80 years old with the exterior of a 22 year old? I guess it's kind of hilarious...to me anyway.

This is old

Some people love candy corn (or simply like it) and some hate it. Who cares either way? I don't mind the stuff, but after a few chews of this waxy confection it gets real old...real fast. Kind of like the upcoming season. I need a sweater in the morning sometimes now, and that's ok. But soon I will need a coat ALL DAY, and that is not something to look forward to. I like pumpkins, pumpkin pies, hay rides and autumn leaves. I do not like feeling pain every time I step out the door, being unable to breath because of sheer wind power, and waking up earlier to warm my car up.

Winter is something to bitch about, and I am getting a head start. But it's OK. The summer equinox hasn't begun yet! There's still time to pretend.

(This is nice to read when I am on the other side of winter. I almost made it through my first "upstate winter" and what a treasure it was. I don't wish to make these a habit.)