No News is Good News

I went to the doc this week. I had to get my blood pressure med refilled for another year. I mistakenly made my appointment for 5:30 on a Thursday afternoon and would have completely missed Survivor if the BFF hadn’t tivo’d it for me. Yes, it took me that long to get out of the doc’s office.

My doc is great. But the practice that he works in sucks. They schedule appointments every 10 minutes but he takes longer than 10 minutes with his patients. Which is great for the patient that is seeing him right that second, but not so great for those of use who are sitting in the waiting room for 3 hours.

Anyway, so I finally got called back at 7:50, the nurse took my temperature and my blood pressure and left with a cheerful, “He’ll be right in!” Yeah, an hour later he comes through the door. I didn’t leave out of that office until nine-friggin-thirty. Four hours after my appointment was scheduled. Seriously, I need to get a new doctor.

Anyway, so he said my bp was very good. I hadn’t gained any weight. He was none too thrilled when he asked me whatever happened with the bariatric surgery that he referred me for last year and I had to explain that my insurance company doesn’t cover it so I couldn’t get it. Medicaid pays for bariatric surgery for crying out loud and my private insurance, which I pay quite a lot of money for every week thankyouverymuch, refuses on the grounds that it’s cosmetic.

So, he suggested I try the South Beach Diet. He said read the book and try it so I ordered the book and will read it when it gets here and try it. My dad actually suggested that if I’m going to be doing it then they should both do it too. I said that would be awesome because it would probably help me be more successful with it if they were doing it with me. My mom didn’t look all that thrilled about the prospect and didn’t say anything at all in response but my dad is all for it. It will definitely help me out if they are on it too. And they both could stand to lose quite a bit of poundage as well.

My eye appointment is in two weeks. I’ve got to find my vision insurance stuff so I can get them to pay for either my glasses or my contacts, whichever is more expensive. I’m guessing the contacts. I’m going to take my glasses prescription to LensCrafters, thanks Tanya for the suggestion, I had completely forgotten about them and there is one about twenty minutes from me.

I wanted to give my car a bath today but it’s raining. So. No. I still need to throw away all the trash that has accumelated in the front passengar side floorboard. I keep a trash bag there and I use it but once it fills up I don’t always empty it right away so then an avalanche of empty cigarette boxes and cellophane and water and soda bottles begins to spread across the floor and under the seat.

I’m going to the BFF’s to watch Oscar Red Carpet tonight. Should be interesting. We agree on things most of the time, but not all of the time (it would be pretty boring if we did) but everything that she absolutely hates, I love. And sometimes, even if I don’t love it I say I do because she gets totally riled up and it’s funny.

But at the moment, I’m off to clean the bathroom. Toodles.

It’s all blurry.

So I need to get my eyes checked. It’s time for my yearly eye exam. I think my prescription has changed some. It feels like it’s changed a lot. But, last year it felt like it had changed and it hadn’t. What the hell do I know? I just say yes, no, right, left, 3, 4, and he tells me what it means. I have to buy new glasses this year. I would just get new lens but I broke my frames about 8 months ago and they aren’t fixable. Well, they probably could be fixed but it would be cheaper just to buy new. But not from my doc; his frames are ungodly expensive. I used to buy my frames cheap from W*M but since I refuse to step foot on their property anymore I’m not sure where I’ll go.

The brother came by for a visit this morning. He hasn’t been home since Christmas and he’s spent the past two weeks in PA at a school. So this morning on his way home from PA he decided to stop by and say hi. He stayed about an hour or so and then headed home. I persuaded him to stop by the store and see Mama. She’d be really hurt if she found out he was home and she didn’t get to see him. The store is only 7 miles up the road so it’s not like it’s too far out of his way.

I have a hole in my bathroom ceiling. The flashing on the roof is leaking and needs replaced which is causing it to rain onto my bathroom ceiling. It’s been doing it for more than half a year and my dad has several times that he’s going to fix it but we all know he’s not going to. There is no way he can. He’s just not able. So I told my brother this morning about it and asked him if he knew how to fix it. He said not really but he could find out and he’d fix it for me. I won’t be holding my breath for him to actually do it, but I promised the BFF I would at least ask him.

Oh look, another abrupt ending! Toodles.

Inside I’m dancing

I just finished watching Rory O’Shea Was Here (aka Inside I’m Dancing). Great movie.

Dear Fellow Drivers:

Dear Fellow Drivers:

I understand that in today’s fast paced society sometimes the time it takes to get from point A to point B can be seen as unproductive. However, if you feel the need to spend that time putting on your makeup, adjusting your weave, balancing your checkbook, reading the newspaper, eating a seven course meal, knitting a sweater, beating your children, or engaging in various sex acts, please pull over and get the fuck out of my way. Thank you.

14 Days ’til the Daytona 500

So, it’s Superbowl Sunday. Which to me means pretty much just another Sunday. I love football. Really really really love football. I don’t usually care who’s playing as long as it’s a good game. But the Superbowl has gotten so out of control and over-the-top in the past several years. It’s more circus than game anymore. Seriously, who needs a six hour pre-game show?

I’m going to my cousin’s house to hang out with her and her kids during the game. Last year we put the game on the television but we played board games all night. We’ll probably do that again tonight. Should be a good time. Plus she made barbeque. And potato skins. Yum.

Mostly what the Superbowl means for me is that the Daytona 500 is only a couple of weeks away. And in this case it is exactly two weeks from today. I’m already looking forward to going to the two Richmond races this year. Hopefully Dale Jr and Tony Stewart will both have better seasons this year than they did in 2008.

I bought a netti pot today. It’s simultaniously the most awesome and the most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen. I used it a little while ago. I’ll be completely honest, the very thought of pouring water up my nose freaks me out. Water is not supposed to go up your nose. Ever. For any reason. And here I am pouring it up my nose on purpose out of this little plastic tea-pot thing with a spout shaped like a penis.

But, I will say, I am breathing better right now that I have in, well, longer than I can remember.

But still, water up the nose is unnatural.

The Secret Life of Bees is out on DVD this Tuesday. I will definitely be making that purchase. I will also need to purchase a box of tissues to have on hand while I watch it. Seriously folks, buy tissues. Retailers should be giving away a free box of tissues with every movie purchase.

The new season of Survivor is starting on the 12th. Yay.

I had a Superman movie marathon yesterday. I found a DVD at the store the other day, a two-disk set of all four of the original Christopher Reeve Superman movies for only 9.99. I love love love these movies. I didn’t care for the new Superman Returns movie that came out recently. I mean, it was okay, but these are four of my favorite all-time movies from my childhood. I like Kevin Spacey and all but come on, there is only one Lex Luther and that is Gene Hackman.

I need to go to the grocery store to stock up on sandwich makings for my lunch this week. Hopefully all the football shoppers are at home by now and I can get in and out relatively unscathed. I hate the grocery store. Toodles.