Rave: Finally got some real honest work yesterday, prepping and painting a garage. Rant; I feel like I got hit by a bull today. Also there was a 5.6 earthquake that shook the doors according to my roommate. And I slept through it. I can sleep through a 5.6 earthquake.
Rant/Rave: A couple of weeks ago, a dog that I cared for got in a fight and ended up biting a handler. Unbeknownst to me, the owners took her straight back to the shelter. I found out last Sunday, called the shelter and told them that I was taking her home. She had a bite hold of 10 days which was up Friday at 5:00. I was there at 4:30. She met my dog, filled out the paperwork and she came home. Why a rant? Now I have two dogs that follow my every move. Fuck me.
RAVE: Best birthday in a very long time and it started with a blow job and hard drivin', dirty talkin', hair pullin', ass slappin' sex.
Rant: They haven't even had their first meeting for the year and I'm already annoyed with our sons' Scout troop. Saturday morning phone call: "Hey, we're having a meeting for parents tomorrow night." Nope. Phone call this evening: "Hey, tomorrow night we're meeting at..." Nope. You want me to attend something, don't call me or tell me at the last fucking minute and expect me there. I help out and attend events as much as I can. But they must think people have nothing else in their lives.
RANT: Fuck. Today I was planning to post a rant/rave about something funny that happened when I was going down on Jungle Julia last night, but right before I got out of work, I got called to the hospital, where I found out that my dad's cancer has spread to his lung, and he'll be lucky if he makes it another six months. I had to be a witness for his "do not resuscitate" statement. What's more is that he either A) Goes to a nursing home, or B) I find someone to stay with him at home 24/7. He actually thinks the nursing home is a good idea, but I don't want him going to one of those places.
Rant: For all of you wishing you too had exclusively public healthcare... I'm considering having a baby this year, so I asked my GP about sperm clinics/fertility/etc. Despite being an OB/GYN, he had no idea and literally googled "local fertility clinic" in front of me, after having left to try and dig up some information on the one patient he's seen who's undergone a similar procedure. He ultimately referred me to a clinic. This clinic is in London, which is about an hour and fifteen minutes away in each direction. The first appointment was a meet & greet with initial bloodwork, which I was told was just standard procedure. Then I get a call saying they want me to come in for more bloodwork and an ultrasound, on a specific day of my cycle. On top of that, I was to be given a prescription for hormones between now and then. Me: Why do I need to go on hormones? What's wrong? Clinic: Nothing's wrong, these pills will just reset you. Me: Why do I need to be "reset" if my cycle is regular and I have no symptoms? Clinic: (Getting huffy) Well, you can do whatever you wish. You don't HAVE to take them. Me: Well please tell me why you think they're indicated, since I've been very clear about my health and the bloodwork seems to be normal? Clinic: You can call us when you want to come in. Me: I'll do that, and I'll pass on the pills. So I show up for MORE bloodwork some weeks later, and an (internal! yay!) ultrasound. I leave, and not an hour later they call to say they'd like to do more bloodwork and another type of ultrasound. Me: Why are there more tests? What's wrong? Clinic: Nothing's wrong. The doctor typically orders these with almost everyone. Me: Well can I do the tests at my GP's office, rather than drive all the way to London? Clinic: No, we use our own lab here. Me: Well do you have evening or weekend appointments? Clinic: No. You're going to have a lot of early morning appointments, too. So I show up today, for the THIRD GODDAMNED VISIT, to have another ultrasound. I will spare you the details, but it was REALLY invasive. Here's what the doctor concluded: I'm good to go. Egg reserves look good, anatomy in excellent condition. All I need to do is pick a donor and get started. WHAT. THE. FUCK. I had vials of blood, three separate fucking visits. Two ultrasounds, one of which required pain meds and antibiotics. All to be told that, just as I had suspected, everything is normal and I'm good to go. They just schemed Ontario Health out of a whole boatload of extra charges. The best part? Well, there are two best parts: 1. None of the actual fertility treatments are covered by anyone - not my private insurance or the public system. So it's going to cost $1500/shot until I get pregnant, all courtesy of moi. 2. They will not allow a known donor to be used. If I had someone who was willing, the procedure is "infinitely more complicated and expensive," to the point that this particular clinic quit offering in in June of this year. So if I was married or had a friend willing to sign away parental rights, we'd be SOL on using him to donate. But an anonymous donor is no problem-o. Seriously fuck our system. Rave-ish: I'm healthy and, as I understand it, I could get knocked up tomorrow. Yay? Ugh.
Rave: quit my second job. So much less stress and now I am out of that toxic environment. When I can see my manager buying pills in the parking lot in front of the building through the front door windows, we have got a problem. Rant: I'll miss the money. I will probably find something else to do part time, like.... Rave: I've wanted start a dog walking side biz for awhile now.
Ravt: To add to my last post...I should have clarified that my goal isn't ultimately to entrap a random dude into a one night stand. Bad idea for everyone involved, most particularly the kid. Thanks for all the reps suggesting it, tho.
RAVE: The new job is working out great. The workload is just right so I can get everything done in a timely manner without rushing, and I don't have to worry about making med errors. The atmosphere is clean and calm and everyone has been very friendly and helpful. The best part is I don't have to be back until next Saturday. Mom literally lives 5 minutes away and I've been going there for lunch and dinner while in orientation. I can even sleep there between shifts on the weekend. I'm seeing her now more than ever. RAVE: Thanks to the much increased leisure time I can spend my days working toward my ultimate dream of a writing career. It's time to put up or shut up and finally give that itch a really good scratch. I'm giving it a year. If I can't make something happen I'll be going back to school get my R.N. Either way this job is bulls-eye's all the way.
RANT: I do believe I've contracted the flu. Started the day feeling a bit off, and am now full-on into cold sweats and lightheadedness. RAVE: No work pressures or guilt or tension... I can just ride it out without any stress. EVEN-BIGGER-RAVE: The next door neighbour is a hell of a chef. His mom, who is East Indian, is visiting for a few months, and is an even better chef. She found out that I wasn't feeling well and I am now loaded up with soups and liquids for days, while he went and scored me some NyQuil. I'll tell you, people... it really, really pays to have and make good neighbours. Especially when you live alone. I'm now at that stage where I'm feeling too shitty to do anything one way or the other... Netflix and iPad while on the couch mode engaged. I fully expect to wake up hours from now with a drool encrusted couch. Wish me luck.
RANT?: I just found out that my dad has decided to stop his radiation treatments. He doesn't see any point in them if he's just going to die anyway. I guess I'd probably do the same thing if I was in his situation, though. RAVE: I put it in Jungle Julia's big ass last night. It was her idea, for the record.
Rant: Me: "It's the William Jefferson Clinton building." Courier Company: "William... Jefferson... Clinton?" M: "Yes, Clinton. He was your President. His wife is running right now." CC: "Is that with one T or two?" M: "...One. Just one." CC: "Clinton?" M: "Clinton." CC: "Wait, wasn't he the President?" M: "... Yes. He was the President." Jesus Christ.
Rant: I'm already not happy about my job situation and then get asked (told) to pick up the phone and do some cold calling again. I escaped that hell two years ago, even if this stint is temporary I don't want to go back. We have actual sales reps here too, as if they don't know how to dial some digits. Telling me I need to continue growing in my career after five years and then shafting me with RFP responses and now cold calls again does not add up, plus acknowledging that I despise it yet not making any mention of commissions or bonuses for sales doesn't help either- when I leave, it should not be a surprise. Rant: It has been five years since my resume was up to date, this is not fun. Gotta start from somewhere though. Ultimately I want to be done with the cubicle world and be full-time at my workbench but that just isn't feasible yet. Rave: The opening of our small game hunting season coincides with my dog's fifth birthday this weekend, and I think I know how we'll celebrate.
Rave So, I become a dad tomorrow. Wife has to have a c-section, so she goes under the knife at 1 and shortly thereafter I'll be holding my little girl. Holy shit. This is very cool, exciting, anxiety-inducing, incredible, and probably 100 other feelings I can't articulate right now. Tomorrow's a big day, for sure. Wish us luck.
Rant: Lately, everyone is at me to do things for them. While I'm flattered that my skills and presence are in high demand, I feel like everyone wants a piece of me (and not the piece I want them to want) and I'm running out of pieces. i like helping people, I really do. But I swear to God, I'm at my wits' end. I want to do the following: I want to line up the entire world and say the following: "Ok, listen up fuckers, I don't want a text, call, letter, or Western Union message from any of you shitmonkeys for the next two weeks unless it reads 'Hey, we need a blow job contest judge and thought you'd be great.' If that ain't the message you're sending me, piss off, fuckfaces.
Protip: You know it's going to be a totally shit day when you're 3/4 of the way to work (I have an hour commute), look down while at a stop light and realize you are wearing one blue shoe and one black both of the same style.
RAVE: Totally back to normal... flu is all gone. RANT: My neighbour had the same thing, and now his visiting parents are on night two in the hospital being monitored due to severe lung congestion and low blood oxygen. This flu bug is making the rounds fastly and furiously.
Rant: When cleaning the filter on your washing machine make sure you get everything assembled back together tightly. Or else it will leak, the laundry room will flood and you will spend an hour mopping it up. Rave: The basement is not finished. So it didnt destroy anything other than the linoleum floor. I have never been so thankful to have a shitty floor in my house.
Rave: The little one made her debut on Thursday afternoon. Born 5lb. 13oz, she's definitely a peanut, but she's perfect. Both mom and baby are doing well and I'm a fascinating combination of thrilled, exhausted, and host of others that have just blended into a haze. Her name is Makenna Paige, and she's beautiful. We go home tomorrow, when the real fun begins.
Rant: I'm 43 Rant:The guy from Aha is at least ten years older than me and looks way younger. Rant: And I can't even come close to hitting that high note falsetto and all.