And the Winner is...

Last night, I stayed up and watched the Academy Awards. I've never done that before. Now I know why.

For starters, I'm a morning person. Which means I got to bed by 10:00 - on a late night. So staying up until almost midnight to see a bunch of snooty people get awards I doubt they deserve or appreciate really doesn't interest me. But I wanted to do it so I could say I'd done it, and now, thank heaven, I never have to endure that torture again.

There were some highlights to my evening, however:

Gary Busey accosted Jennifer Garner on the red carpet. She looked like she might throw up all over him and Ryan Seacrest. And I'm pretty sure Gary wouldn't have noticed, because he was feeling NO PAIN.

When Javier Bardem won for Best Supporting Actor, he thanked his mom...who was his date...and did it in Spanish. She cried. That's always cool.

When Marion Cotillard won for Best Actress in a film I can't even pronounce, much less ever even heard of, she was amazed. She had nothing prepared and just said "I love love! I love life!" When she walked the red carpet earlier, she mentioned she'd never even watched the Oscars. Nice.

The Best Original Song winners were a man/woman team. The guy got up and hogged the mic and the poor mousy little girl didn't get to say a word before they started the "get off the stage" music. After the break, Jon Stewart - recognizing that her moment had been stolen from her - had her come back out to say her thank you's. She actually said something relatively smart too. I liked that.

There was actually a slip-n-slide area next to one of the podiums. First Colin Ferrell, then John Travolta, slid to their almost-doom. I kept hoping someone would go down, but alas, I was disappointed.

I didn't stay up to watch the last 2 awards (Best Director and Best Picture). At that point I just didn't care anymore. None of my picks were winning anyway. Plus I was really tired. I just don't understand what all the fuss is about. Of course, I also don't like seeing movies in actual theaters - it takes to much time out of my life - so maybe the whole thing just isn't for me.

Technical Difficulties

Just about every person I know who has a blog has a little blip on the side of their blog, usually to the right, that has links to the fabulous blogs they read. I don't read their blogs if I'm not on that list. However, I don't have one of those lists.

I'd like to say there's some impressive reason for that. I do actually feel like by listing blogs on your own personal blog, you're almost endorsing what that other person says...and what if they say something really stupid? This is almost guaranteed if I'm listed on your blog, by the way.

However, my failure to list other blog links is not at all that well intentioned. It is, sadly, lack of knowledge in how to make the list appear.

Seriously people, I once asked my boss what was wrong with my computer...and he asked me if it was on (it wasn't).

Recently, Blogger has decided I can no longer post pictures to my blog, and I can no longer bold words. I am 100% certain this is entirely my fault; however, I don't really care, because I'd like very much to be able to do both of these things.

I guess I'll have to do something I don't enjoy at all - I'm going to have to ask for help.

Quite Possibly the Best Idea Ever...

I am really just a wealth of great ideas. Ask anyone. No, forget it; just ask me - I'm more inclined to tell the truth about something like this. Other people tend to just be jealous of my fabulous ideas and then pretend like they're really stupid.

Currently I have a great idea. And I mean GREAT. What, you ask, would that be?!

Breakfast delivery.

Indeed.

I'm not talking cereal, friends; I'm talking eggs and hashbrowns (with cheese and onions please) and grits and bacon. A good country breakfast. Maybe some biscuits and gravy. Oh yeah, that's what I'm talking about. And a huge glass of sweet tea to make it all go down just right.

Why has no one thought of this? If they can deliver a pizza to my door, why not breakfast? In my family, we eat breakfast for dinner all the time. And who doesn't love a fried egg sandwich?

Granted, they'd have to move pretty quick...grits and gravy both congeal pretty fast once they hit air. But in heaven, I'm pretty sure I'll be getting breakfast delivered to my bed on a daily basis.

Same Stink, Different Deductible


Oh, the insurance woes. Does it ever cease?

I believe I mentioned earlier this month how over the moon I was that we had met our deductible (thank you, Spanky, and your nasty little appendix). I figured it would be October before we met the $5500 deductible, and so the insurance plan wasn't working out so well for us. Then Spanky had surgery, and things got a lot better a lot quicker. Because once you meet your deductible, everything in network is covered 100%.

NOT SO MUCH.

A couple of weeks ago I went to fill 2 prescriptions. I needed them both desperately; there was no waiting around. It was okay; my deductible is met, so I didn't have to pay anything. Or so I thought.

When I drove around to the window, my friendly pharmacist said, "That'll be $284.98 please." I said, "Um, I've already met my deductible!" And frankly, I was a bit smug when I said it.

At that point, said pharmacist, who happened to be the same guy who at the end of last year couldn't tell me how much prescriptions cost until he charged me for them (isn't it beside the point then?), informed me that the pharmacy has no way of knowing if I've met my deductible. Basically, girlfriend, you're outta luck.

So I paid. And I cursed.

Come to find out, the wonderful insurance company lets us pay for the prescriptions, even after we've met our deductible, and then they reimburse us. And they reserve the right to take up to 30 days to do this.

Somehow that doesn't feel like "after you meet your deductible, you don't have to pay for anything out of pocket." I don't have $900 of fluff in my checking account...ever! ($900 is the monthly cost of prescriptions in our house.) Now I realize that they're reimbursing me, but a month is a long time, and I'm not quite sure they understand the meaning of "out of pocket."

I know people have it worse than me. I know people who do. I'm just tired of getting screwed by the insurance companies who look for ways out of their obligations. And on top of that, they keep raising their rates. I'm just thankful I got out of that business and got a real job.

Everything 80s is Cool Again

In my humble opinion, being a child of the 80s, everything 80s is cool STILL. That may have something to do with the total lack of musical talent (combine everyone with supposed talent from 1990 to the present and they would fit in Jon Bon Jovi's left pinky toe...with room left over). We also had the best movies ever. (On Valentine's Day I happily caught the last 10 minutes of Pretty in Pink...and was thrilled to gaze at the awesomeness of Jake Ryan once again.) And we had the best TV shows ever.

So this past week I was watching the news, and to my great surprise and delight discovered they are bringing back a classic. Yep, that's right...KITT is back.

My first thought was "Spanky is gonna love that show." That was quickly followed by "Who am I kidding?? I can't wait!"

There's just nothing like a talking car.

Body Buzz

My mother sent me an email several weeks ago that I wanted to share, but I got caught up in Spanky having one of his body parts removed, and I forgot to post it. Luckily, I didn't forget forever.

Following is a list of little-known facts about the human body. Read and enjoy.

* Scientists say the higher your IQ, the more you dream. (In case anyone is wondering, I dream ALL THE TIME)
* The largest cell in the human body is the female egg. The smallest is the male sperm. (No comment)
* You use 200 muscles to take one step. (See, I DO exercise!)
* The average woman is 5 inches shorter than the average man.
* Your big toes have 2 bones each while the rest of your toes have 3.
* A pair of human feet contains 250,000 sweat glands. (This explains a lot)
* A full bladder is roughly the size of a softball. (That's gross)
* The acid in your stomach is strong enough to dissolve razor blades.
* The human brain cell can hold 5 time as much information as the Encyclopedia Britannica. (Unless you're the Professor, who actually read the encyclopedia for pleasure as a child...then all bets are off)
* It takes food seven seconds to get from your mouth to your stomach. (Is that quicker for women because they're shorter?)
* The average human dream lasts 23 seconds.
* Men without hair on their chests are more likely to get cirrhosis of the liver than men with hair. (Can you imagine the grant application for funding of this research?!)
* At the moment of your conception, you spent about half an hour as a single cell. (I know a couple of people who never got past that point)
* There are about one trillion bacteria on each of your feet.
* Your body gives off enough heat in 30 minutes to bring a half gallon of water to a boil. (I'm HOT)
* Your teeth start growing 6 months before you're born.
* When you're looking at someone you love, your pupils dilate. They do the same thing when you're looking at someone you hate. (Very interesting...)
* Your thumb is the same length as your nose. (We actually tested this one in my office...and it appears to be true...except for freaks - Shawn - who have thumbs of two different lengths)

So those are your freaky facts for the day. I'm sure you're as enlightened as I was.
One more...

It is physically impossible to lick your elbow.
(Stop trying - it really is impossible)

I Win! I Win! I Want My Prize!!!

This year, the church went to a new high deductible health insurance policy. SuperHubby has his own policy, which comes with a $2750 deductible, and the boys are under my policy, which has a $5500 deductible. That means our total deductible for the year is $8250. Yikes.

We have to pay 100% until our deductible is met. Then the insurance pays 100% for the rest of the year. This might actually help us.

We figured SH would meet his deductible rather quickly. He takes over $400 in medicines each month, and he has physical therapy (for that ear issue) once a week, which is again more than $400 a week. For those weak in math, that's about $2000 in one month. I figured by March he'd be home free.

Who knew Spanky would end up having his appendix out? And to top it off, would spend 5 days in the hospital? All the bills are not yet in, and our total cost for that little visit stands at $26000+.

But the beauty of it is, we only have to pay $5000. (We had already shelled out $500 for 2 measly prescriptions, but that's not important here). The point is, we have $5000 to pay toward the surgery and the rest is covered.

It gets better. Since FrogBoy has Medicaid (because of the autism), it was GOING to take me and Spanky until October to meet our $5500 deductible...but because of the surgery, we met our deductible by January 21. Sweet.

I still can't believe we met our family deductible before SH met his individual deductible, but that's what I get for thinking. Even though I hate insurance, I am grateful that we have it, that it is working for us (this year, anyway) and that everyone in my house is semi-healthy (today).

False Advertising

We have a local glass replacement shop that frequently advertises (translation: all the time) on the radio. I get the pleasure of hearing their commercials several times a day. And frankly, I'm disgusted.

Said glass replacement shop touts that they will replace your windshield "FOR FREE" if you have insurance. DUH! If you have comprehensive insurance coverage, ANY glass replacement company will replace your windshield for free. This, friends, is false advertising. Or at least very deceptive advertising.

This particular company goes on to say that if you DON'T happen to have insurance, they will quote you a very good price on replacing your windshield. How kind. And nebulous, considering "very good" is quite the subjective term.

Every time I hear this commercial, I just get angry. Maybe it's because they're playing around with people who don't know any better. Maybe it's because it reminds me of the bad old days when I was an insurance agent. Maybe I'm just moody this month.

Whatever the reason, mark my words: this company will not be getting any business from the Fitzgerald household. I'm wise to their tricks.

MOM OF THE YEAR

Yep, that's me. This morning, I secured my spot for at least the rest of 2008. I scored a Wii.

It hasn't been easy. Spanky wanted one for his birthday, and decided to save up all the money he would get from EVERYONE to get it. Then he also had to kick in some of his allowance. I knew he was serious when he agreed to give up all his birthday money and actually SAVE his allowance up to get the thing.

Unfortunately, his birthday is 17 days after Christmas, so it was really hard to find a Wii. I got a break from my little search when he had his appendix out - but after going back to school this week, his interest was back up and he started asking if I could find one...PLEASE.

So being the awesome mom I am, I got up early this morning and hit a local electronics store, which I personally hate. However, I will say they were very organized in their Wii-dealings. I got there 30 minutes before they opened, and 10 people had gotten there before me. They had 16 Wiis. But - and here's the smart thing - they were giving out vouchers. I was #13. However, when they opened the doors, I was the first one in line. They handed me Wii #13 and I was home in a mere matter of minutes, basking in the glow of my coolness.

So...Spanky has his Wii and I feel like Mom Extraordinnaire...but we haven't seen him all day. I guess that's the price you pay. Maybe tomorrow he'll let us play with it.

SuperDaddy
...or, My Life Bites

I guess it's only fair. However, it still came as a shock to me when Spanky decided this week, during his stay at MUSC, that he preferred Daddy over Mommy. When did this happen?! As best as I can tell, it went something like this...

Jan 11 - Spanky turned 13
Jan 11 + 3 seconds - Spanky decided Daddy was the parent of choice

Now this was a difficult thing for me. Let's face it: I've always been the favorite. (Before you start sending in nasty comments, SH would agree with this point, so it's not like I'm stating anything but fact there.)

Anyway, Spanky never really went to sleep after his surgery Monday night. He rested when they gave him pain medicine, but he never really slept. And when I tried to send SH home for a nap and a shower on day 2, Spanky really threw a fit. He allowed SH to leave, but under much protest. Then the nurse came in and suggested we change his gown. Bad idea. I tried talking sense to him. I tried consoling him. Nothing. Then he said something that almost made me laugh. Or cry. Or cuss.

"I need Daddy. He has EXPERIENCE with this sort of thing."

EXCUSE ME?!?!?

In my ever sweet, loving way, I asked my son who the heck he thought took care of Daddy when HE has surgery. Then came blow # 2. "He takes care of himself." OUCH.

It really took everything I had in me not to lecture him right then and there. He was incapicitated, so he would have had to have listened. I opted for a mere "Kid, you need to face reality" and moved on. Still, it stung.

Spanky has been at MUSC since Monday afternoon. Yes, for those counting, that's 4 days - for a normally 24-hour operation. I have had plenty of time to wallow in self-pity this week concerning the things my child has said to me. I am quite sure he never would have done that if he'd had surgery before he was a teenager.

Meanwhile, he probably gets to come home tomorrow, providing his colon wakes up. All other signs of "issues" have left the Spankster, so we're well on the way to "normal" (whatever that is!)

Like Father, Like Son

Let's cut to the chase: right now it is 1:30 a.m., and if you know anything about me, you're wondering what on earth I'm doing up at such an ungodly hour. Well, I'll tell you. We've been at MUSC all day with Spanky - having his appendix removed.

Honestly.

It all started about 2 hours after he returned from a weekend youth retreat at church. Apparently Scott can take him away for a week at a time, three years in a row, but give him to Mike and Ernest for 48 hours and he comes back in need of having parts removed.

He came home and was starving. So we fed the boy. We're good parents like that. A couple of hours later, he's laying on the sofa, moaning. He is nothing if not a Drama King. SuperHubby banished him to the upstairs because, frankly, the moaning gets old pretty quickly. An hour later, he barfs all over the bathroom (walls, tub, floor, you name it. It was ugly. And no, I did NOT clean it up. That's SH's job. My job is snot.)

Then Spanky goes to bed. Forever. He doesn't move. This is not good. I figure he's just really tired from barfing all that nastiness up and being awake all weekend on his retreat. But this morning, he fell asleep on his floor and didn't move. All day. I explained to SuperHubby my fear: because of the moaning and major showboating, I have always had this fear that the child will have appendicitis but we'll think it's just a hangnail and ignore it. And we almost did.

But we called the doctor and they saw him; then they sent him to MUSC to "rule out" appendicitis. Three doctors later, they'd ruled it IN and were planning on surgery. The big problem? I was stranded at home because SH had taken my car - because his car was in dire straights. Now who wants to be a Fitzgerald?

I called everyone I knew. I couldn't get anyone on the phone. And frankly, I was a little frantic. Not nearly as calm as when its SH on the table. I finally got the Smurf and she came and ran me to the ER and took FrogBoy to spend the night with her. Then we spent the next several hours waiting through a gunshot wound and a pediatric heart transplant, which pretty much bummed me out.

Other than the resident who felt compelled to discuss the possible complications of surgery while standing over my 13-year-old's bed, the entire staff was fantastic. Spanky did great and came through like a trooper. I was really proud of him. And man, did he look like his daddy. If SH hadn't been sitting next to me, I would have sworn it was him in that bed.

And so ends another exciting day in the Fitzgerald household. It is January 21 and we have met our $5500 family deductible already. I discovered that my son can be very brave when he has to be, and I am extremely proud of the way he handled himself throughout the whole ordeal. And like I told him earlier (when he was still dopey and probably won't remember it) - he can hold this over our heads for the rest of our lives. We kind of thought he was just being dramatic.

That's AUNT GOOFBALL, Thank You Very Much

Somehow I have gone from being a cute, sassy, queen-of-it-all to being a giant gooberhead in a single week. I expect geekdome from The Professor; I really didn't think I'd be joining in at such a young age.

I tried to figure out when it started. I think it may have been last week. SuperHubby was unable to take Spanky and some buddies to see I Am Legend for Spanky's birthday. I figured that wouldn't be an issue. I really wanted to see the movie myself, so I invited The Professor to join me and we just punted. No biggie.

Until I mentioned it to Spanky. Apparently it was okay for Daddy to sit in the same auditorium as the boys, and it was fine if Uncle Larry sat in the same ROW as them, but when I mentioned I was going, the child thought I was smoking crack. I finally had to promise to merely fork over about $100 for their tickets and snacks, then act like I didn't know them for the next 2 hours. I could feel the love.

Then on Monday of this week, SuperHubby's younger sister had a baby. For those keeping track at home, this makes me an aunt for the 11th time. As of a year and a half ago, I am also a great-aunt. Now I realize that the major factor in this is SuperHubby and his weirdo family. There are 5 kids, with a 17-year age gap between the first and the last, which makes for a lot of nieces and nephews. With the Salleys, 2 kids was a big family, so I'm still a little amazed that I have 11 little people calling me Aunt Lori.

Then last night came. The final straw. My oldest nephew from my brother and sis-in-law was in his school's middle school play. Actually, he was the main character. Other than Annie, but I think that was just an oversight. They play really should have been called Daddy Warbucks and some Random Orphan. But I digress.

So we go to the play, he's amazing, and everything seems fine. I mean, I teared up a few times during the play, but I regained my composure pretty well. Plus it was dark, which always helps when you're about to embarrass yourself.

After the play, we all gathered around to tell him how great he did. And somehow, at that moment in my life, I went from totally cool to totally NOT in 0.4 seconds flat. I started bawling like a baby. I couldn't talk. Poor kid was patting me on the back and telling me it was okay and probably wondering what the heck my problem was. I tried to compose myself and just lost it again completely. I'm misting up even now.

I think the problem started when he allowed me to hug him. In public. He's 14, so that alone explains that statement. But somehow, when I watched him on that stage and then later told him how proud I was of him, the only image I could conjure up in my mind was April 8, 1994, when SuperHubby and I drove to Columbia and I held my brother's hours-old firstborn child.

Our kids are growing up. Spanky is already 13 and FrogBoy will be 10 in June. What I wouldn't give for a magic pill that would allow them to stay little forever.

Spanky Update

A couple of days ago I posted about Spanky getting in trouble at school. He's been sweating bullets ever since. After torturing the kid for almost a week, the school finally called me today. It was all I could do to remain calm during the conversation with the woman who called me.

Apparently, several 13-year-old boys were doing what 13-year-old boys do: they were talking when they were told specifically not to talk. Okay, I'm fine with that. I'm even 100% fine with punishing them for their crime. However, I think the school may have gone just a bit overboard.

There are 5 possible punishments when you receive a referral. They are:
1. Lunch detention
2. After school detention
3. Saturday school
4. In school suspension
5. Out of school suspension

I knew there was no way they'd go nutso and suspend the boys, so I figured I'd flow with whatever punishment was doled out. Then the office clerk called me. She made the crime sound very serious. She even sounded a little disappointed when I told her that Spanky had confessed the entire thing to us last week. I think she was hoping to get him in trouble.

Then she said, "Since I don't know who did what, I'm punishing them all the same. I didn't want to give them ISS (in school suspension), so I'm giving them all Saturday school. This Saturday."

Okay, the kid broke the rules. He talked when he wasn't supposed to. But Saturday school? For that?! Seriously, aren't there more serious things happening in school that deserve that punishment? What do they do when they catch someone doing something BAD? I mean, this was his first infraction, and not all that serious, by the way, and they act like he committed a cardinal sin.

I promptly informed the office clerk that he would NOT be serving Saturday school this weekend, as he is going out of town with his church youth group. I did agree to have him serve the next time they have it, which is in 2 weeks. I figure maybe he'll learn his lesson and we can prevent this scenario from repeating itself.

Meanwhile, I tell SuperHubby about it and he wants to know if we can appeal the ruling. This is only humorous if you know us, since I'm usually the one arguing for the boy and SH is usually the one saying "MORE PUNISHMENT!!"

Spanky's biggest complaint wasn't Saturday school...it was that they ALSO said he dared another kid to bite his finger. And so ends another dramatic evening in the Spankster's life.

13

Today is Spanky's 13th birthday. There is no possible way that this can be true, and yet that's what the calendar tells me.

For those who don't know the story, I had a seizure when I was 35 weeks pregnant with Spanky. Never had one before, but boy did I do it right the first time. I went into labor. When we got to the hospital (I was at work, and they weren't exceptionally bright people, so it took a few minutes) I had another seizure...and we both stopped breathing. We almost died.

After an emergency C-section, I spent the next 2 days in la-la land. When I woke up, I didn't even remember being pregnant (it came back to me after they told me I had a baby). Spanky spent a week in neonatal ICU. It was a rough week. Poor SuperHubby had to deal with all that and family too.

So this year, as I wallow in self-pity over how old I must be to have a 13-year-old, I have to thank God that He saved us. I tried saving some pix but apparently I'm not smart enough to make my computer work; sevearal weeks ago I screwed it up and things haven't been the same with posting since.

Anyway, happy birthday Spanky. I will show off your baby pictures another day.

Trouble with a Capital "S"

Spanky really stepped in it this time, friends. He comes home from school this afternoon, and with the most serious face he can muster, tells SuperHubby, "I have something to tell you." Uh-oh.

That's when the waterworks started. There was major snottage. He cried like a little girl. (Later, when I pointed this out, he told me he cried "like a man." I had to remind him that men don't cry like that - ever.)

Seems the Spankster got a referral at school. Two days before his big birthday. Not good timing. The best he can tell us is that he was talking in class when his teacher was out and she says she warned them that if they got written down for disobeying the substitute, they would get a referral. So his very serious reasoning for the referral was "But I didn't hear her say that!"

The child was hysterical. I thought he might hyperventilate. We asked what the punishment was. He had no idea. So I called the school. Apparently it can range from lunch detention to full-blown suspension. And my child, who has never been in BIG TROUBLE at school, is completely confident that they are kicking him out. For talking in class. Four months ago. (Yes, this happened at the beginning of the year, and the teacher is just now doling out the referrals. I don't quite understand that, but she just had a baby - 4 months ago - so maybe she's sleep deprived.)

Being totally awesome parents, SH and I informed Spankarooni that he would have to serve his punishment - because he did break the rules - but that we were sure the school wouldn't go overboard with said punishment. SH - in a great moment of parenting - asked what lesson had been learned. Spanky said he learned not to talk in class. Not wanting to leave well enough alone, I chimed in and asked what OTHER lesson he'd learned. Apparently he'd learned to give his mother a blank stare. I finally shared with him that he should obey the rules, whether he's reminded to or not. He and SH both looked at me like I had barfed up a unicycle on the living room carpet, but I thought it was good. SH took my first answer anyway.

So goes another day in the Fitzgerald household. I'm still waiting on my call from the school to tell me about my child's horrible infraction against humankind. I hope I can act upset when they call.

If Ignorance is Bliss...

...then the people at my drugstore must be absofreakinlutely giddy.

We just went to a high deductible health insurance plan at the church. That means that we have to pay for our prescriptions and/or doctor visits, etc. until we reach our deductible. So of course, last night I had to refill my prescription.

You would think this would be an easy task. Not so. Following is the actual conversation I had with the pharmacy tech...

Pharmacy Tech: "Do you have insurance?"

Me: "Yes, but we just changed to a different plan, and we don't have the cards yet."

Pharmacy Tech: "We don't have any record of your insurance."

Me: "Right. It's a high deductible policy, so I have to pay for the prescription."

Pharmacy Tech: "Well then you're going to have to pay cash for it."

Me (thinking): Why would I have to pay CASH? Could I not give them my debit card? And didn't she just repeat what I just said?

Me (out loud): "Okay. How much is it?"

Pharmacy Tech: "Well, we didn't really have all of your prescription."

Me: "How much do you have?"

Pharmacy Tech: "20 pills."

Me: "I take 300 pills a month. That's only 2 days worth."

At this point, the Pharmacy Manager came over, because apparently I had used up my allotted time in the drive thru.

Me: "I need to know how much my prescription costs."

Pharmacy Manager: "Oh, I can't tell you that until I bill you."

Me: "Okay."

Pharmacy Manager: "I can't bill you until I have the full amount of your prescription. It's the law."

Me: "Okay. Can I get the 20 pills you have. I really need the prescription."

Pharmacy Manager: "Okay."

Me: "And can you tell me how much it will be each month?"

(This was apparently the wrong question, as he looked like his head might explode.

Pharmacy Manager: "Well, I really can't tell you until I bill it, but I'd guess about $300 a month."

(Okay, so now we're just guessing. Nice.)

Me: "Online it said it would cost about $200 a month."

Pharmacy Manager: "I dunno."

Me: "Okay. Can you at least increase your monthly order to include my prescription. I have been coming here for several months and you never have the full amount of my prescription. In fact, you usually only have a couple of days worth."

Pharmacy Manager: "I dunno. I guess I can try to up the order, I'm not sure."

(Okay, seriously, who made THIS GUY manager?)

Bottom line, I ended up leaving the pharmacy with 2 days of my prescription, in a very aggravated state, and realizing that because they didn't have what I needed, I won't be able to file the $300 or $200 or whatever my prescription actually ends up costing with my flex spending for reimbursement until after this week's cutoff. Which means I'll have to wait more than a week to be reimbursed that money. And we generally don't have an extra $200 in the budget.

Meanwhile, I really hate this pharmacy now, but it's really close to our house, and it is 24-hours, which is something that often comes in handy in our house. So I'm stuck.

At this point, I can't decide who I despise dealing with more...the drugstore or the insurance company.

Have a DE-Lightful 2008!

This morning, as I was driving to work at 6:45 (because my stupid internal clock doesn't realize that when the boys sleepover at my aunt's house, that means I should get to sleep in), I noticed that there was a very upsetting trend occurring in Mt. Pleasant. There are many, many houses, and many, many neighborhoods, that still have their Christmas lights up. Tacky.

Before I get all sorts of grief over this, I'm all for having a festive wreath on your front door. I have a seasonal wreath for every month of the year. (I know what you're thinking: of course I do.) I am also not at all offended by those folks who decorate in a very subtle fashion for Christmas and then leave the lights up for the better portion of January. Key word being SUBTLE.

What gets me is the people who still have plastic nativities in their front yards. Christmas wreaths adorning every single window in their house (which frankly is a bit much in December, but that's not the point right now). And if the lights you have out are red and green, its time for them to go.

My sis-in-law is planning on leaving her lights out a bit longer. That's cool. They are small and white. No problem. And there's a house on my way to work that decorated their palmetto trees with lights...which would be really cool if they didn't give them purple trunks. I've lived in Charleston my whole life and I've never seen a purple palmetto tree. But when you pass a house with reindeer still in the yard and blinking mismatched Christmas lights on the porch, friends, that is just unacceptable.

I've heard that it's bad luck to leave your decorations up past December 31. You're not supposed to hit January 1 with the stuff still up. I don't know the origin - maybe someone with good taste just said it once and it stuck.

Anyway, after you get your decorations down, I hope you have a Happy New Year!!

The New Phone Books are Here! I'm Somebody Now!!

I couldn't fall asleep last night. I wanted to; I just couldn't. I tried everything in my arsenal. I said all the states in alphabetical order. I said all the state capitals in alphabetical order. Then REVERSE alphabetical order. NOTHING.

It was time for the big guns. I counted backwards from 1299 to 0. Twice. Still nothing. By now it was midnight and I was just a little cranky, frankly. I started listing 5-letter nouns - in alphabetical order. (Yes, I lack imagination). STILL NOTHING.

Somehow I came up with the thought of that game "Six Degrees of Separation." I figured if everyone is connected to Kevin Bacon by 6 degrees or less, then they must be connected to me in the same way. Surely I'm as popular as Kevin Bacon.

It didn't take long (seriously, about 5 minutes) before I made a 2-degree connection between me and Oprah. That's not something I'm proud of, but it does help where I'm going with this. See, in my former life as an insurance agent, I worked at a company with a branch in Columbia. And one of the employees that I mingled with every Christmas for 5 years had a daughter who just up and vanished one year. It was huge news here. And he managed to get on Oprah to talk about it. And you know what that means...

I am only 3 degrees of separation from every single person who has ever been on Oprah. Hello, Will Smith. Hello, Harry Connick Jr. And most importantly, Hello, Jon Bon Jovi!!!

(Let's all just reflect for a moment on the hotness that is Jon Bon Jovi. OK)

Needless to say, this little exercise didn't do much to help me fall asleep. But it sure made me feel important for about 3 minutes.

Top 5 Things That Jingled My Bells This Christmas

1. Spanky got a TV video game "thing" that is like a bad Wii...but it's still pretty cute. It has boxing, baseball and tennis. Watching the kid try to beat the video boxer had me on the floor in stitches this morning.

2. Every single time FrogBoy opened a gift, regardless of whether he knew what it was or not, he exclaimed, "OH, THANK YOU!!! It's just what I've ALWAYS wanted!!"

3. We had 4 generations of my family - the tapestry that makes it up on the holidays - sitting in my aunt's den watching "The Best of Weird Al Yankovick" videos. THAT was awesome!

4. I got the best card ever from Zach. It was a Hannakuh card. He carefully went through and replaced "Hannakuh" with "Christmas" to make it holiday-appropriate.

5. I got furry lined Crocs. VERY nice.

Last year, my grandmother was in the hospital, so we couldn't all be together at my aunt's. Thanksgiving, Spanky and SuperHubby were home sick. Today we were all together - and relatively healthy - so that was superb.

On the way home, I decided to stop by my mom's house. Her husband worked all day, so she'd been alone. We managed to surprise her and it was PRICELESS.

And we saw SuperHubby's mom and grandpop...which we normally do, but on some other day than Christmas Day. They came to our house this morning.

So it was a very busy day, but very wonderful, and I'm super-thankful for all my family, even though most of them drive me nuts on a regular basis. If it weren't for them, what would I write about?

Super Support

So yesterday, as I was driving SuperHubby home from physical therapy, because I am a kind, considering, caring wife that way, I told him about something I was thinking about doing. A little writing venture that I felt like God might want me to take on. And do you know what the love of my life did?

He laughed out loud.

Guess who's walking next week?