Author: cursingcats.com

2022 Vacation: Act 1: Closed

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After three days of attempted travel, we have arrived. We were supposed to fly out on Saturday. Then on Sunday. Then third time was a charm with an overnight Monday night. But it was not without its battles. I tested positive for bomb residue.

So I go through the human scanner, and OF COURSE, I light up bright red in my crotch again. I had plenty of time to ask why I always trigger the damn thing and apparently my clothes (especially my crotch) are too baggy. The machine isn’t looking for metal, I’m told — just unusual shapes. Good to know! She recommend traveling in jeans or leggings next time. Side note: I wonder if you can see breast implants on that thing? I totally bet you can see them. But yeah, back to bombs.

Now I gotta get the feel up again. So we go through the dance and she tests my hands for bomb residue. BAM! False positive. Okay, though, this person isn’t a bomber — lets do this right. So now I get the fully monty pat down with a fresh set of gloves. She makes sure to touch every area of my person. Then she screens my hands again AND her gloves. Fucking false positive. Now they’re taking my bag (that had already passed the scanner successfully) away.

My bag gets a deep dive but there’s nothing interesting in it. Now there’s a policeman and a new TSA agent for me. She explains everything shes gonna do. Again, I don’t speed hear so I’m like whatever, do what you gotta do lady. I didn’t ask for privacy either because fuck that. So I look over to my husband and tell him that I think if I test positive a third time, I’ll probably go to TSA jail. Not like, they’ll arrest me, but I bet Id get taken to another location for further testing, ya know? We already brought a cop over.

So new TSA lady puts on fresh gloves and does the full monty pat down again. I offer up my hands but she’s like “oh no, we’re not testing your hands again.” She then just tests her gloves (which had been all over me). Green light! Woot! Bomb free! Third time a charm, baby! Thats when I knew this flight would work and not get delayed a fucking third time. We’re totally rolling on third times a charm luck.

So, apparently, some lotions and soaps can make you false positive on those things. But the only lotion I use is on my tattoo. I KNOW, I’m a horrible person. Plus I had passed the extra screening on Sunday night with no problem. So *shrug.* I guess we, thankfully, won’t find out where a third positive leads you. There’s always the trip home though.

I’ll take the time to point out, the TSA agents were super polite and lovely to work with. No one was an asshole. It was only women that felt me up and we were in view of everyone (by my own choice). I was watching the bag search. I wasn’t in some detained area, I was just a rock in the TSA river that everyone else had to flow around. Like my husband, who passed without problem. As always.

Mr C’s sister picked us up from the airport and we arrived at the cottage around 3am. That would be 2am in our home time-zone. And now it’s 6am and I’m awake. Not sure if it’s the anxiousness or the humidity or what. I mean, it is super fucking humid with NO AC. At least we are here and the ocean is lovely. Maybe I shall go lay back down?

OH WAIT! I forgot another great tid-bit. K is cat sitting for me. You know my precious Jack (cat) requires medication twice a day. Well, K went over to give him his evening doses and triggered our alarm system. Since we were traveling, we missed the calls. So the security company called the cops. Who then went to visit K. I have to get the full play by play from her soon, but she said she was in her pjs and the cops were cute. I regret not having that Ring Camera anymore.

How to make TSA agents laugh

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So yesterday our flight was canceled. But not before we made it through security and waited almost 2 hours at the gate. For some reason, I always flag at the human-being scanner. This time I flagged a lot of yellows and bright red on my crotch. Nice. So I got felt up. The lady sped through all the ways she was gonna feel me up and asked me if I understood and I was like “No, but do what you gotta do.” She asked me if I wanted to move somewhere, private but I don’t care. So I got felt up. I also got the bomb residue screening.

Then I’m waiting on my husband and my bag. Husband goes through with a bright green window. So lame. I told him I just got felt up and he just breezes through! WTF? So now I’m grabbing my bag after it went through the scanner and my husbands bag gets taken. So I laugh and say “I got felt up but they took you shit!”

This made at least two agents laugh. You’re welcome.

Also, another passenger said at least the feel up was free. So there’s that. We’ll try again tonight. But I need to remind husband to take the scissors out of his backpack.

Travels

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We should be on vacation right now, but our flight last night was canceled 3 hours before we were to board. So the soonest flight we could get out is now tonight. Yay travel! I hate flying with a passion. So many people. So much cramped space. So much chewing and smacking. UGH.

This years family trip will be very different from normal. It’s not my favorite destination. Too many bugs, too much walking, no air conditioning. I grew up on beach trips. You go get hot as hell by the ocean and then come up and cool off in the frigid AC. Its nice. Mr C doesn’t like the beach much though, so we alternate family vacations.

This year unfortunately, his father came down with Covid. While he’s much improved and doing great, we still don’t wanna travel to stay with someone who’s probably still contagious. I believe in following the CDC guidelines because I think they’re like the lowest expectations they could legally set. Bare minimum rules. And they say don’t travel for 10 days. So we had the EXTREMELY uncomfortable situation of discussing with his parents, who paid for the cabin — who’s going, us or you? They decided it would be better used on us. Us being my husband and his brother and sister. So it’s a sibling trip now.

It is a huge change in plans, but I think maybe it’ll be nice. The cabin is far too small for everyone and always has been. So there’s now enough beds for us all. And less of us sharing a single bathroom. And we can all fit at the dining table.

I hope it will be good bonding time with the in-law siblings. Hopefully we’ll get to relax. And be cool enough to sleep well.

Wish me luck on the flights. I hate flying so so so so much.

UPDATE: Tonight’s flight got canceled too! WHAT THE FUCK, PEOPLE? We’re gonna give it another try tomorrow. Third times a charm right? And if tomorrow fails us, we’re gonna have to cancel. Cross your fingers we make it tomorrow.

Is insurance getting even shittier?

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Is it me, or has insurance been getting even shittier lately? Yesterday I went to pick up Mr C’s prescription and they wouldn’t cover it because a generic was available over the counter. Yeah, a generic at half the dose for $22. So almost $50 a month. They wanted $80 for the prescription generic. Thankfully GoodRX had my back and got it down to $12.

I was also picking up some of my monthly drug haul and noticed one of them was unusually high. I asked about it and he said insurance wouldn’t cover it from that pharmacy. Apparently they cover it, but only if I order it through CVS Caremark. WTF? You can dictate my pharmacy now? I have a lot of good reasons I won’t be switching to CVS even for just that one. Thankfully, thyroid hormones aren’t too pricey anyway.

Whats with insurance being such bullshit? Am I the only one noticing them reigning it in on what they cover? Since when can they cover one pharmacy but not another? Not even “in network” or “out of network” but just this one mail order service only? Can you even trust the mail with your required-for-life prescriptions? You know how long it took me to get the last pair of pants I ordered? And then there’s the running late days or the days they just don’t deliver it and claim your driveway was blocked. Plus it’s like 100 degrees (F) outside, so more in the trucks — that can’t be good for prescription medicine.

WTF?

“Friends”

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I don’t have a huge network of friends. And of those I do, I only count a handful as close, dependable, REAL friends. The people you can count on to be there in an emergency. The people who I trust. The people I am equally loyal to. I count loyalty as a prime virtue. I may have a slightly skewed sort of ethics, but I have strong morals and loyalty to your peeps is one of the top tenets. Perhaps I take it too seriously.

Do you really need the type of friendships who would keep your darkest secrets and perhaps help you bury a body? Probably not. But I just don’t have enough emotional capacity to give myself fully to someone only to find I was nothing to them. I like to think I’m a good friend. If I give you my loyalty and love, I like to think it’s worth something. I don’t half ass friendships. I’d rather have 3 good people than a hundred colleagues. Could also be because I generally really hate people.

Again, maybe I just take it too deep. But I keep my friends closer to my heart than family. Blood isn’t always thicker than water. I choose my family. So when I count someone as family and I lose them, it breaks my heart a little. To realize you mean so little to someone… It hurts.

C is one of those people. I realized this a few years ago. I’m only called upon when something is needed. When the sun is shining, I don’t exist to her. It was a hard bite to chew. But I was right. I was there for her, but she could never be there for me. I never even heard from her when my mother died. Though when her cat died, I researched the healing stones bullshit she’s into and sent her a cat carved from a stone meant to heal a broken heart. But when my heart was shattered, I didn’t even get a call.

We had her over on Wednesday. Haven’t seen her since last year. I had hoped maybe she’d notice my hair was thickening. She didn’t, but that doesn’t mean it’s not. I still hold hope. I cut it shorter in a if-you-cut-it, it-will-come kinda thing. I thought she’d comment on my new body after three plastic surgeries. She did not. My sweet husband even tried to steer the conversation that way by mentioning that I had waited to start my tattoo sleeve until my arms were done. Rather than a light bulb and her asking how it went or to look at them or see the scars or ANYTHING, it just led to a conversation about her tattoos. The whole visit was just a life dump from her. She didn’t care about what had been going on with me or Mr C. It was just two hours of her life.

I just can’t give my love to a freaking black hole. She only takes. C’est la vie.

Sleeveless

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So today was a bit of a milestone. It was the first time I have ever worn a sleeveless shirt to work.

I’m still not thrilled with my arms. However, I’m no longer downright ashamed of them. I was a bit anxious about it when I decided what to wear last night, but I didn’t second guess my choice to go sleeveless all day. I felt like I looked quite spiffy even.

And though I’ve gained a bit, so my stomach is certainly not close to flat, it doesn’t bulge out anymore. So I feel confident to walk straight and tall with my shoulders back. I’m showing off the boobs I paid for — rather than pushing out my stomach further.

I’m very anxious and nit picky about the surgeries I’ve had. None of them came out with the expected results. I’m most happy with the tummy tuck. However, my anxiety just riddles me with the fact that I’ve gained weight and “ruined it.” Yet, I’m so much more confident walking around without my stomach poking out. It’s the surgery I’m happiest with. Next would be the boobs. They’re lopsided, but I went from nothing to a lot of something. So I can’t complain too hard. Mr C loves them too! The arms I’d say I’m the least happy with the outcome. I still have huge, fat arms. However, these arms are a million times better than what I had before! It’s just a shame I never kept any of the unflattering pictures.

I’m very happy I went through this process and these surgeries. Are my parts as wonderful as I’d hoped? No. Did I trade up on all of them? Hell fucking yes. Worth it.

It was the right choice.

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So I’m glad I switched jobs. Does some of it suck, yeah. This week was insanely stressful because we had people in from another state down to do dry runs and we didn’t even get them done. My ass is so new that nothing was setup correctly and just fail after fail after fail. With 3 different people breathing down my neck wanting updates on shit I can’t control. One guy even moved into the empty cube next to me so he’d know when we could proceed. So yeah, stressful.

And obviously going back to 9 hour days in office sucks ass. I’d much prefer everyone be in office for like 2 or 3 days a week, or just afternoons in the office. I mean sitting there for 9 hours is just painful. So yes, every day I text my husband about how miserable I am and I want to come home. But that’s kinda just having a job in general. I’ve never been one to like working. Ever.

But it was the right choice. Being back in the office is better for my well being. Working from home full time wasn’t working for me. I was getting depressed and lonely. I need to get dressed and have some days where I’m like “damn, I look good today.” I need small chat. I gotta have it. I want to know what your plans are for this weekend. I want to hear gossip. I want to be walking down the hall and hear someone call out my name. I want to hear the cleaning lady (who, BTW used to be a pharmacist in New York but found it far too stressful) wonder why she didn’t see me on Monday (I was out, thank you for noticing!).

Do I get exhausted and need to come home and stare at the wall with my cat? Yes. Do I hate having to get to work by 8? Yes. Are the days long and tiresome, yes. But I feel good being back in the grind. In the grind, I don’t feel bad for being lazy as fuck when I’m home.

I like making new work friends. I like that B was telling me about how V is a tough army type but he was never in the army. Oh really? Cause when I met V he was amazed at my goomba tattoo and raised his pants to tell me he usually wears his mario socks. We connected on a different level.

And the work is easier. Is it a lot more work? Yes. But it’s just tedium and frustrating shit. Which, I’ve so far been able to just go “yeah, not my fault.” I’m learning a lot of new things and once I get in the groove it’ll be better. This job is paper work paper work paper work and a shit ton of emails. I can do that though. I can get shit done on a deadline. I can own some documentation. Is it a pain? Yes. But hey, you gotta have a job. I don’t work well without tight deadlines. I’m too lazy. I admit this.

And it’s so awesome to feel those moments of boss bitch. Like yeah, I own this. I’m good. I know it. I haven’t felt that way in a long time and I certainly didn’t get to feel that way working from home. And im really enjoying the “office friendships” I’m developing.

So yeah, I wish I could do half weeks or half days from home. But then again, you gotta pay the bills and you can’t always get what you want. I think taking the lesser job and going back to office full time was the right choice for me.

Actual Workplace Conversation

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P1 “I think his name is Thomas.” 

P2 “Are you sure?”

P1 “I’ve been calling him Thomas and he hasn’t corrected me.”

Me “Doesn’t mean anything.  Some people call me B and I just don’t give a fuck to correct them.”

P2 “That’s because your name is B.”

Me “You’re one of those people.”

Keep in mind, I’ve never interacted with this person outside of my cubicle. Where my name is prominently displayed.

The Joys of Home Ownership

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Don’t get me wrong on this post, I LOVE our house. I love living in our house. This post merely reflects on all the pains and costs of home ownership we’ve had in less than a two month span.

1) You remember the AC went out. I wasn’t aware it needed regular inspections and cleanings. So a stupid handyman got me for $450 before I hired the guy who installed it to really fix it. It needed a new part and some freon and a good cleaning. Haven’t got the bill yet, but thats gonna be around $1,000.

2) Had the septic tank pumped. I was pondering the AC and what else we might have neglected in our 6-year-old home. I looked it up and those things are supposed to be inspected every three years. Oops. So I just had someone come pump it.

3) I had to install new cartridges in the pool filter. After I installed them, the manual release valve decided to start leaking. I’ve ordered the part and hope to fix it myself.

4) Last night mailbox 3.0 bit the dust. RIP, 3.0. These things are averaging a two year life span. Thankfully I put a call out to the neighbors to see if they’d help me install a new one. G offered his old mailbox and to install it later. GREAT NEIGHBOR! Let’s here it for G!