my exploding head: brought to you by Blue Cross Blue Shield

Jesus fucking Christ do I hate insurance companies! I think I've shed just as many fucking tears over fucking insurance problems as I have over my parents' fucking divorce. I can think of three instances right off the top of my head:

1) When I went to fill a prescription at college only to discover that my insurance had changed and the bill was now three times as much. Money was tight and I couldn't eat, pay rent, AND get the medication so I opted for basic survival and left the hospital in tears.

2) When I had to make an emergency doctor's appointment on my first day back at home post-graduation (with my pediatrician, because I had no other doctor and no time to find one) and spent a half hour arguing with/explaining to the insurance company that although I was related to my father, whose name was on the policy, I did not live with him and why does that mean I can't possibly be eligible for coverage, all the while sobbing in front of a dozen diseased toddlers and their mothers while the sympathetic nurses behind the counter shoved tissues at me.

3) Today, when I discovered that because I started working for my new company after the 1st of February, I was not eligible for health coverage until the 1st of March, and any medical costs accrued between those dates would NOT be reimbursed in any amount. Since I must fill a prescription this weekend (ie. before my coverage begins) I really really wish that they had told me about this little caveat when I signed up for the benefits almost a whole fucking month ago. Being in a bind, I contacted my doctor to see if they had a sample of the medication to tide me over until Thursday, but no fucking dice. So, resigned to pay full price for the prescription, I called CVS and discovered that the full cost of the medication is only $20 more than the deductible I usually pay with insurance. I was paying over 60% of the cost! What kind of fucking system is this?? I pay up the ass for health insurance for shit! I don't smoke, I hardly drink, I exercise and don't gorge myself on fatty foods and I don't even break even on cost? Fuck that!

Now, you may be tempted to attribute my raging hate to hormone fluctuations, but you would be mistaken. This is not the scattered anger of PMS--this is pure righteous hatred, the kind of which legends and mass murders are made of. And I haven't even gotten into car insurance! (We recently discovered that Progressive has been charging us California rates for the past six months, resulting in an overpayment of $500, which the company will NOT reimburse or credit towards future payments because that's just the kind of fucking assholes they are.)

So to all you insurance people out there--CEOs, CFOs, customer service reps and brokers--FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING PALTRY LIVES, YOU ARE THE DEVIL. I'd call you all right now and give you a piece of my rage-fevered mind if I could only get past the fucking auto-prompter and get one of your lazy asses on the fucking phone. Instead, just go ahead and give yourselves the finger. Go on. Are there any sharp sticks around? Perhaps some sort of flowering cactus plant languishing in the office? Good, go sit on that and grind your ass around a little. Take turns bashing your head in with the refrigerator door. Throw some tacks on the ground and dance around to that awful Fergie song with your shoes off. French kiss that fat guy who sits near the bathroom and smells like overcooked turnips.

Now, you're on the honor system since I can't see or contact you, so you'll just have to be honest and accomplish this without any outside supervision. Okay?

Yeah right. Dicks.

for everything else, there's RJ

Man's Greatest Invention: $250

Man's Greatest Time-Saver for the 1950s Housewife: Free



The Ensuing Fight to the Death: Agonizing



Inability to Find Replacement Parts: Frustrating



Fixing Man's Greatest Invention with Man's Greatest Discovery Using Instructions from Al Gore's Greatest Invention: Amazing



Desperate Innovation: Priceless

Baghdad or bust

It's been a while since I've posted. Like magic, all of the free time and boredom I enjoyed before Christmas evaporated as soon as January arrived. Suddenly, there were school applications to fill out and everyone's perspective of their workload changed once we dropped on this side of 2007. Now that January is over and people have their sights set on Easter, things are starting to calm down and I'd been looking forward to February all month--yearning for a little time to blog or eat lunch--but I screwed up my relaxation schedule by taking a new job.

I wasn't looking for it. Basically it jumped me and I gave in. I can't say much about it here, but it seems like it should be interesting. It pays more, which is always nice, but it promises to be a whole hell of a lot more work too. Now I'm staring down a 6:00 AM alarm and a metro commute and wondering what I've gotten myself into. They seemed really impressed during my interview. It was flattering at the time, but now I'm worried. How great do they actually think I am? Because I'm not all that. I mean, I'm not bad but I have no delusions of grandeur. But what if they're really impressed with complete crap? What if my not-as-crappy-as-others qualities rocket me to the top of the bureaucratic food chain too fast for the development of my actual skill set? Things seem to be going down the toilet pretty fast around here and everyone's scrambling to deflect blame and throw any nearby object/money/innocent passerby at the problem. What if someone spots me? "Holy cow! Look at her work that Outlook Calendar! We need quick thinkers and nimble fingers like yours in Iraq, darlin'. Strap on some kevlar, we're going to Baghdad!"

Paranoid? Somewhat. Irrational? Let's hold off judgment until mid-summer, shall we? Regardless, I'll just have to accept the risk. As the great political philosopher Biggie Smalls once put it: Mo' money, mo' problems.