Seperated At Birth

I've established the fact that I have some issues recognizing people, yeah, I kinda suck at it. Point in case, last weekend I got together with a group of close friends from High School. We try to get together every couple of months for dinner and drinks; good times. While waiting for a table a fellow former classmate happen to walked in with her husband. We all said "Hi" "how are you?" and all those nice small talk.

She's one of my friends on FB (read: High school acquaintance that sent me a friend request on a day I happen to be feeling rather generous) and I recalled she had recently opened her on spa, so I asked, "How's the spa?".

Suddenly all my friends spun their glances in my direction with the "oh no she didn't!" look. What?

"I still work at the bank", she replied, confused.

My homegirls quickly told her how nice it was to see her again and grabbed me by the elbow and led me away like I was their elderly, senile Grandmother.

That wasn't Angela, was it?", I said sheepishly.

"No Mala. It was Melissa. We went to school with her for 4 years and she looks nothing like Angela."

"Don't they both have brown hair?" I replied.

That's what I get for trying to use my power of recall. Seriously, from now on I'm just sticking to the 'smile and wave' in all social situations.

Anyhoo, while Angela and what's-her-face, may not look a thing alike, the following celebs are often confuddling me.

I suffered through both The Watchmen (Bev LOVES this movie!) and Alvin and the Chipmunks (both I and II!) and I wasn't sure if starred the same guy. Bev assured me, it's not. The Ratmunks features Jason Lee, looking his best, while The Watchmen stars Patrick Wilson at his most UN-sexy. But you see it, right?

During my extensive search for a picture of Alvin and the Chipmunk Jason Lee and not the My Name is Earl Jason Lee, I came across this:

Pshhhhh, I don't see it!

Moving on..

When did Ethan Hawke morph into Kevin Dillon?

Speaking of Kevin Dillon, did he make a deal with the devil? The man doesn't age. Wasn't he in Platoon like 40 years ago?

And just as an aside, I like Kevin way more than Matt Dillon. While on the set of Wild Things, Matt asked every girl there for their phone number. And since we were all playing high school girls, many of them were actually under 18. Hello, Jail bait! When he asked me for my number, all slick and cool (gag), I assured him that at 22 years old, I was obviously too old for him.

But here's two guys I'd give my number to in a heartbeat! And have. OWWW!

I totally heart Everclear's Art Alexakis. And Dr. Drew makes me wish I had had an interest in drugs. Sigh, or not.

And last, but certainly not least... is it any wonder I dig Bradley Cooper?

(Nearly) Wordless Wednesday - Memory Lane Edition

While rifling through a basement full of old photos, looking for a prom picture for Cary for his List of the Day's up-coming Prom Picture-palooza, I came across a million embarrassing pictures with tons of blog-worthy stories a picture from my first horse show.



I won first place riding a cousin's former horse, "High Top Tippy". And yes, I had really long hair.

Hearts and A Cute Little Cherub

Hope everyone had a happy over-rated, consumerist, singles-awareness day Valentine's Day.
Joe asked me if I was doing anything special for him for Black Sunday. After moments of deep thought, I said I wouldn't consider holding a pillow over his face tonight while he slept. But just tonight. Tomorrow, well, fair game.

Heh, I'm romantic like that.

But enough of sappy holidays that make me want to yack. I've been up to my ears in heart business, and I'm not talking about the kind with little edible messages.
Apparently my Doctor wants to buy a third vacation home thinks I may have a little issue called arterial fibrillation which, technically speaking, is a wonky heart. It also can cause a stroke, like the one I had a few years ago.
After the stroke, I went through a bunch of tests. One of which required a camera to be shoved inserted down my throat and filmed some sort of horror flick of my heart, which resulted in me loosing my sense of taste for five months (boo!) which lead to losing 20 lbs (YAY!). Unfortunately, after reviewing the footage, the director wasn't thrilled and wanted to re-shoot. Hellz-to-the-no! Plus my blood-sucking health insurance company said if I had one more test, a big guy named Brutus would show up at my house and club me to death. Or something like that.
By then I was also tired of being a human pin-cushion anyway so I cancelled all future tests and decided to just get back to the business of living.

Flash forward several years and now my Doctor has recommended that I revisit the issue and referred me to yet another cardiologist. Last month I had to wear a 24 hour heart monitor. If you've never had the pleasure, it looks like this.

And no, the zebra print boob-tube isn't required.
But the wires, 2lb recorder with fanny pack, and 40 yards of tape is. It's as comfy as it is fashionable, trust me. But besides looking like a terrorist, you can't take a shower and sleeping with it just plains sucks. In short, longest frickin' 24 hours ever!

But now my sadist of a Doctor wants me to be hooked up to the heart monitor for a month! A month of being C3PO! Are you kidding me?! Of course he wanted me to get wired up right before my vacation. Yeah right! Who wants to try to make it through airport security with me? Anyone? No one, eh? Thought so.

Besides, can you imagine the tan lines?

So the Doc scheduled me for a special Valentine's wiring. But before my appointment I called to get a grand total on how much all this fun is going to cost me. Actually, I called several times, over 3 weeks, and the bastards never called me back. Finally I get a call... from the hospital to pre-register. Not only did the lady have no idea I was waiting for a call with a total$, she had me down as a 78 year old widow with no living relatives! What the friggin'-frack? Oh and they even had my phone number incorrect despite the fact THEY JUST CALLED ME. Thank gawd they're just super gluing electrodes to me. Trust me, I'll have serious second thoughts if they come after me with a scalpel!

Several calls and nearly an hour being transferred or on hold later, I finally spoke to someone in billing regarding the cost. The following is the abridged version of the conversation:

Me: So how much is the heart monitor?
Dingbat: $460 Me: A day? Or for the month?
Dingbat: A day. I think.
Me: You think?
Dingbat: Yes. Maybe. I don't really know.
(silence)
Me: So what you're saying is it may cost me $460 Orrrrrrrrrr..... $18,000.
Dingbat: yes
Me: But your not sure which.
Dingbat: Right
(longer pause)
Me: That's a big difference between $460 and $18,000
Dingbat: Yeah, it is.
(FRIGGIN' CRICKETS!!!)
Me: So if you don't know which it is, who does?
Dingbat: I don't know.

After muttering something about the state's 7% unemployment rate, incompetent shit-for-brains, and recommending she connect me to the bitch who writes up the bills and mails them to me because that lady seems to have bionic super powers, I hung up with still no clear answers.

The day before my appointment I made one more attempt to get a price. This time I got the head of billing. I won't recreate that conversation but let's just say she was a passive-aggressive bitch that repeatedly called me "madam" and couldn't fathom why I would need such information and in the end, still couldn't give me a price.

I ended the day with a call to her manager and another to my doctor to let him know I am no longer his patient and why.

I've decided that going on with the business of living was the right decision and I'm not being dissuaded from it. The Doc had already been talking a bunch of smack about putting me on high octane blood thinners that would prohibit me from ever riding again. Hello?! I own a horse farm! In addition, Dr. Buzzkill said no more coffee, no more alcohol, and definitely no more fun. Seriously? Why the hell can't I be restricted from housework, annoying husbands and whining children! FML!

But before you think I'm jumping ship because of no more drinking the "negative effects on my quality of life", Doc's words, it's not. I feel in my heart of hearts (ha!), that this will just be more testing, more expense and not a single definitive answer...again. And frankly, I have better things to do.

Besides, when your time's up, your time's up. There's no gettin' away from it. Even if your sleeping safe and sound in your own bed.

Caption This

My cat spends a lot of time like this. Should I be worried?



Okay, go!

Back

ahhhhhh, life is sweet.



Howdy Hey, lovely peeps. I'm baaaaack. We had a fantabulous vacation cruising around the Caribbean. And since I'm buried under Mount St. Laundry, I'll let the pictures do the talking, k?

Feeding "Tucker" and his ducky friends, but moreover, pissing off the neighbors.

Hanging out on Ft. Lauderdale beach.

Enjoying our balcony on the Dawn.
Was this the picture Joe said I could NOT post under any condition?? *shrugs*

The counselors at the kids' club seemed to enjoy painting Beck every night. Staggering back to your cabin with a tired kid that needs a bath before he can go to sleep... I think they hated us or something.
a kid-size buffet. This is the munchkin version of winning the lotto.
My little fish.

Dominican Republic

Check out our ride. Safety.. pshhhh! I laugh in it's face.

Tortola

Antigua

While on board, we met two couples that each had 2 kids around the same age as Beck and Morgan. The 12 of us became quick friends and spent much of the cruise together.

Aya and Morgan Table for 12

Barbados

St. Kitts Beck made a little friend in St. Kitts

ANTM!

The crew at NCL take freestyling to a whole new level.

And speaking of freestyling, Joe decided to jump on stage and bust out some stones (Rolling Stones, that is) with one of the ship's bands.

Well that's it. Thanks for sitting through my family vacation slide show. More chips? I promise, I'll get back to my regular scheduled blogging as soon as I find the laundry room floor.