1. It’s impossible to find a proper fucking onion bagel in Utah. The only local bagel store caters to the local tastes (SWEET) and stopped making onion bagels. This infuriates me. I’m considering making bagels at home which is far more work than I want to put in to eat a bagel.

2. I hate it when I cannot solve a problem or conflict and I feel lost in it. I feel that way right now over something that happened with a friend. I’m not sure how to deal with it so I’ve decided to say FUCK IT. I’m not feeling very well about it.

3. Grandma has congestive heart failure and is carrying about 20 extra pounds of water weight so her doctor prescribed diuretics. Diuretics make Grandma CRAZY with anxiety and fear about the toilet and potty and accidents. I understand that it’s stressful to have to move around a lot to go to the bathroom (especially at my grandma’s age) but it is hard to talk about it ALL DAY LONG. Grams went to the bathroom three times in 3 hours and she was screaming, “I WENT TO THE BATHROOM TEN TIMES!” But it’s not worth arguing with her because it’s like trying to reason with a two year old. A very powerful two year old. She’s getting older and more confused (especially with water weight, which makes confusion worse) and it has been difficult lately and I feel like complaining about it makes me a bad person so I’ve been pretty quiet about it. (At least online.)

4. There is no “x” is espresso. I don’t think this will ever not bother me.

Right now I’m feeling like ten year old me. I wish that I didn’t get so incensed when I see injustice. Why aren’t the people around me upset when they witness felonies within our own family? Everyone says crap like, “No harm no foul.” Well, I say fuck that! A felony is a felony.

Life would be a lot easier if I cared a little less. But then I guess I wouldn’t be me. So I’m just sitting here, taking deep breaths, getting ready to be around my family tomorrow and not lose my shit.

I have little notes of the terrible things I heard everyday. I felt like I was on some hidden camera show because honestly, I didn’t know anything could be THAT BAD. I knew I was in serious hell within the first hour when I overheard my supervisor say, “My eight-year-old daughter is never gunna have boobs. At least not until she finds a man to buy them for her.” (Commence vomiting.)

Thankfully, I’m done with that hideous company and moving on to something much more meaningful: helping care for my aging grandparents. For the last couple of months I have been cleaning their house for two hours per week. It was enough at first, but the last few months, weeks in particular, have been rough and my grandma isn’t able to do as much as she used to. I’ve been trying to cram a week’s worth of cleaning into two hours and it just hasn’t been working, so I was ecstatic when she asked if I’d like to increase my hours. I hope that being there will help her regain some of her strength and to feel comforted that she doesn’t need to worry so much. I really enjoy spending time with them and I am grateful to be able to help and feel lucky to spend more time with my grandma and grandpa.

– President Barack Obama, February 24, 2009

I hope and pray that health care reform change begins ASAP. Unfortunately I fear that will not happen.

After watching the President’s address to the joint session of Congress on Health Care I found myself extremely disenchanted: not with anything Mr. President said (he was quite inspiring), I was disheartened to hear the booing and yelling from the Republican side of Congress and the very inappropriate outburst from Rep. Joe Wilson. If Congressional members cannot express feelings and ideas in a civil manner it is no wonder American citizens are not capable of positive political discourse. I have started to close myself off politically because nothing positive comes from sharing my thoughts and feelings. There is no exchange of ideas and principles, only yelling and bickering. We can’t even talk to each other anymore! We are surrounded by shocking and distasteful beliefs, actions, and tactics. My greatest fear is that the political shenanigans between the two political parties will prevent any real change or progress.

The previous paragraph was brought to you by the grief and emotional eruption resulting from receiving the following letter from the hospital where I received my D&C in February. After five months of consistent payments they mailed me this:

“***FINAL NOTICE***

This is our final effort. We value your patronage and want you as a patient. But, as much as we regret, your account may be placed with an outside agency for collection unless full payment is made within the next ten (10) days.”

BULLSHIT! They do not value my patronage or want me as a patient. If they did, they wouldn’t be such pricks. The phone calls to them are nothing short of horrific. I swear the call center representatives at the hospital were direct hired DMV employee rejects with anger and rage issues. I know it’s probably an error (I hope) and I will call them shortly to attempt resolution, but I am not looking forward to it anymore than I would look forward to a colonoscopy.

Receiving that letter really struck a chord in me. I am sick and fucking tired of all the bullshit associated with our health care and the political responses to the possibilities of change. So I did what any normal American would do, I wrote a letter to the President. I was going to email it but I think intent can be lost in the current electronic shuffle. So I’m rocking it old school and sending my letter via snail mail.

I hate that waiting room. Being surrounded by pregnant women and their significant others is a bloody nightmare. Sitting in the same room where we waited to hear what came next after seeing our still baby inside of me, is fucking rough. The room was packed and I sandwiched myself between two very pronounced baby bumps. Shortly after the receptionist started calling my name. She began explaining to a pregnant woman near the door that I needed to go to the billing department. When she realized she was talking to the wrong person she just repeated louder that I needed to see the billing department IMMEDIATELY. So I did. They wanted me to make a payment on my balance then make a co-pay at the end of my doctor’s visit…um, BITE ME. After settling my bill I returned to the time out area waiting room and sat wishing I’d packed a flask.

On my walk home I found myself doing the same thing that Marty wrote about here: the game of what ifs. Trying to figure out where I went wrong: maybe it was the Diet Crush I drank on occasion but didn’t realize had caffeine (why is there caffeine in orange soda anyway)? Maybe I should have been more careful about not lifting heavy objects? I should have listened to my sister when she told me not to shovel the driveway. I should have taken it easier….

Even with all this, I feel a little bit better today. Mike and I have a fun weekend planned and I’m not even angry it’s raining outside and ruining my walk (anymore).

* When I called to make arrangements for paying off my balance the woman told me they would not be able to accept small payments and I needed to pay in full – wouldn’t that be nice?! That wasn’t nearly as bad as when she stated, “You’re pregnant” while trying to figure out why I was billed for my 1st prenatal visit 2 months later, instead of at the end. I had to tell her the freaking bills were due to my miscarriage and D&C. Cue crying.

There appears to be some potential change with the liquor laws that would end private clubs. To drink in a bar here you either have to pay a yearly membership fee, or be the guest of a member. Doesn’t seem that bad, huh? Well, it’s annoying as FUCK. I’m afraid the people running everything (the Mormons) have no idea that their stupid laws which are supposed to make drinking more difficult do NOTHING to reduce alcohol consumption. In fact, making everything so difficult only makes drinking MORE appealing. I never felt the need to own a flask until I moved to Utah.

This sentence from a Salt Lake Tribune article about these changes struck me knocked me the fuck over:

“Representatives of the House, the Senate, bar owners, restaurants, the governor’s office and the LDS Church hammered out the framework during intense closed-door negotiations this week.”

To see the LDS Church specifically mentioned in the article annoyed me to my very core. I realize the LDS Church influences EVERYTHING here, after all, this is their state. But to see it so plainly stated that they are working out legal details as representatives of a religion just seems wrong.

My favorite part of this annoying mess: changes to the liquor laws are happening as a result of a study in which 40 companies who relocated or expanded within Utah found “perceptions of Utah’s complicated liquor laws were an obstacle to economic development in the state.”

Money makes the world go round, eh?

True joy is being able to find greeting cards, specific to “The one and only true church” (VOMIT) in your grocery store. I love picking up religious fucking greeting cards with my groceries. Who doesn’t need a good Priesthood/Superman card, or a true super hero (missionary) greeting? I would trade them all to be able to pick up a bottle of booze in the grocery store.

Moo?

During a walk through downtown SLC we ran across Safety Cow. It’s quite interesting (be it strange) to have a cow perched atop a streetlight. Too bad Utahrds could give a fuck about traffic laws. Why should they? They all have God on their side! A few minutes before this picture was taken a douchebag ACCELERATED at us, with 14 feet of cross walk left. The assclown was eating fast food when he literally cut us off. My boyfriend was talking to his mother (on his cell), and it took all of my self control to only yell, “NICE!” while giving the asshole double middle fingers. It’s a good thing I didn’t have anything in my hands because I would have launched it at him.

All natural COW PIES?! Are you fucking kidding me? I realize they’re trying to be funny (?) and I’m all for poop jokes, but is it really necessary to name your pie company after shit?! “Who wants fecal pie?! Nom, nom, NOM!”

My math teacher is in the habit of hanging on to our homework and tests FOREVER. So long, that I asked whether or not we would be receiving any of them back (he’s yet to return ANY of our homework). We took test #3 before receiving test #2 back. Turns out I totally bombed test #2, which would have been really fucking nice to know before taking test #3. Especially since math is a subject where concepts build upon one another and now I’m freaked out that I may have bombed the most recent test (which I wouldn’t fucking know because he hasn’t graded mine yet…though he did grade the majority of the rest of the class – WTF man?!), when I could have worked on misunderstood concepts if my teacher wasn’t so fucking lazy, and did his goddamned job.

I spent the better part of the morning feeling really crushed and did a semi-decent amount of crying. (Thank god for clear mascara gel – not that it mattered by the end of the day because even though my lashes looked pretty good, I still looked like someone had punched me in the face and rubbed lemon juice into my eyes.)

My dismal math scores led me to the (very adult, very disappointing) decision to cancel my trip to St. George this weekend. I seriously need to buckle down and do a sick amount of studying and I know that I won’t be able to do that if I’m out of town, having fun, as planned with Stephanie. Even though I know I need to stay home, I’m so bummed I can hardly stand it. While talking it over with my sister I started bawling. While breaking the news to Stephanie I started bawling. While thinking about it in the car I started bawling. (Notice a pattern?)

I just feel like shit for disappointing Stephanie. We haven’t seen each other since the 4th of July and we’re both lonely for each other. I hate this. I’m hoping today will be better and I’ll feel like less of a failure – in school and my personal life. The general ick of yesterday began to seep into other aspects of my life and suddenly I was an insecure cotton-headed ninny muggin. And it was about shit that I have NOTHING to worry about. Sometimes I really hate having feelings.

Now come on, commiserate with me about your shitty Monday and help me feel better, would ya?

Seriously, who hits up women on dating websites and woos them with their apathetic attitude toward love? Whatthefuckever.

In other news, I’ve decided I would never have money problems again if every ex-boyfriend who contacted me paid some sort of fee/fine. It appears I’m that girl: the girl who boys profess their love, kindness, and appreciation to AFTER we’re done dating. Thanks a fucking lot guys! I sincerely hope one of the handful of men I’m communicating with right now will appreciate me for all my sassy glory before we’ve broken up. When I asked my friend Steph how to go about charging ex-boyfriends the “I was wrong about you fee” she suggested I make each new guy sign a contract when we first start dating. Lawyers? Help!