Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Mind over Matter


We're signing up for life insurance. I guess the paranoia won -- we're officially scared that one of us will die and the other will be stuck with all the bills. Never mind the unbearable grief and loneliness and overwhelming sense of loss. It's the debt. How scary the possibility of becoming poor.
So, tonight the lab tech came to take blood and urine samples, health histories, and height and weight. I guess the insurance company wants to make sure we're healthy enough to make monthly payments FOR A LONG TIME. Anyway, almost everything went fine. For example, I told her all about the Diabetes and Cancer in my family (hmmm...can you say high risk?), I even let her write down my actual weight (unheard of)! But what I couldn't do was stay upright and conscious while she stuck a little tiny needle in my arm for a mere five seconds.
And I digress...
When I was six, I became an aunt. My brother's wife gave birth to a beautiful baby boy and I was there at the hospital soon afterward. My most vivid memory of that time was not the joy of having a nephew. It was not the happiness of the family all gathered together. Instead, it was the absolute horror of watching the circumcision while my mother explained the procedure to me. And now as an adult, I can't help but think, WHY DID SHE ALLOW A SIX YEAR OLD TO SEE SUCH A THING! I still remember the wave of nausea and the spinning room and having to put my head between my knees. Ever since then, I have been unable to deal with needles or blood. Needles and blood combined? Forget it.
What makes it worse is that I have what they call "deep veins". That means that tonight when the cute little lab tech is trying to find a vein, I'm trying to stay calm and not having much success. After she sticks me left and right, and I almost pass out several times, and my husband is holding me up while balancing a pack of frozen cauliflower on my neck, I am thinking that maybe we don't need life insurance. Maybe I'll take my chances with death and poverty. Because right now death and poverty seem a lot less threatening than the big silver needle that's coming at me.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Snacks for the road


In the crunchy category:
• Cheez-Its, not Nips. Nips are nasty.
• Goldfish originals (no oddly-orange cheddar)
• Teddy Grahams, because they're so cute
• Honey Wheat pretzel twists (just because they say "wheat" doesn't mean they're good for you)
• Honey Barbecue Fritos (then go breathe on someone)

This blog brought to you by my guilty conscience. I feel guilty for my last blog, which is totally negative and b!tchy. I feel guilty for not wanting to blog about anything worthwhile. And I feel guilty for loving carbs so much that I actually made a list of my favorites. Hmmm...I guess it all says something about me.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Does it really STAY in Vegas?

You're sitting around with your friends, and the conversation is getting juicy. Someone inevitably says something like, "What's said at the table STAYS at the table!" Everyone chuckles, nods wide-eyed in agreement, and grips their seats in anticipation of the info about to be spewed. Here come the deep, dark secrets.
This is when I get annoyed. Now, don't get me wrong: I have nothing against hearing dirty tales of deceit and mischief. Quite the contrary! I say the naughtier the better! It's just that I cannot STAND the phrase "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas" and it's even worse when people change the phrase to have some sort of situational meaning for them. It's NOT clever. It's NOT funny. And we've heard it about 127 times before.
And what's more, it in no way binds the listeners in secrecy. How's that for pointless?