Take Your Sour Grapes and Make Some Whine

Or, Why I Got Up to Watch the Royal Wedding

Sometimes I wonder if some of you will ever be happy. I can't believe how many facebook posts there have been about being relieved the wedding "nonsense" is over. You know how annoyed you are hearing about the wedding? That's how annoyed I am hearing you whine about the wedding.

Here's the deal. I don't know William and Kate. I'm fairly certain I'll never meet them. I'm not British. I'm not so very into the Royal Family. I don't work in fashion. I'm not a wedding planner.

But.

I don't watch the news. I turn it off. It's so sensationalized. So depressing. It's too much for me

And this week, media all around the world focused on two people falling in love and getting married.

I'm sorry- why are we complaining about that?

People all over the world were celebrating something positive. Something happy. Something lovely.

Pour me some coffee, I'm in.

And that is all I have to say about that.

When an Apple a Day Isn't Enough

We, the uninsured, are tired of being judged. Let me just put that right out there. We know protecting our health is important. We know we need to take care of things “just in case.” I mean, my book starts with getting health insurance. It’s important. We get it. We like peace of mind as much as the next guy.

We’re also tired of not being covered when we have medical expenses. We enjoy being healthy and going to the doctor.

And we are looking forward to Obamacare and whatever benefits it may bring.

But RIGHT NOW, for ALL DIFFERENT REALLY GOOD REASONS, we are not insured.

Someday we’ll have healthcare. In the meantime, I have a possible solution. And I’m not even being snarky. It’s a real-live, honest-to-goodness solution, and I meant to share it last time I went, and I forgot. My apologies.

Uninsured friends- do you know about the Ryan-Chelsea Clinton Clinic? It might be literally saving my life today.

I found out about the Ryan Clinic a few months ago from a friend. I have thyroid disease. This MUST be treated. My prescription was running out. I didn’t know what to do. A friend of said friend had mentioned the clinic to her before, but it seemed too good to be true. But it’s not. It’s a real place.

I registered in May and got an appointment for a few days later. I was seen right on time. The doctor was really kind. And then I went around the corner and filled my prescription. For $7. My cost for the visit was $125. This is only because I am “out of borough.” Manhattan residents pay based on a sliding scale. The guy next to me today had a co-pay of $3.

But it’s my experience today that I most want to share.

I realized about a week ago that I was running out of my medication, and I knew I didn’t have any refills. I’m headed to Ohio tomorrow, so I called to get an appointment at the clinic. No such luck- the next available appointment was on January 27. I explained to the nice lady on the phone (she really was a nice lady) that I would be in the hospital by then. She suggested I try a walk-in. OK then. Sounds like a plan.

I sent my friend Lindsay a text asking her to watch Lily today so I could go. (Lindsay has saved me in many, MANY of these situations. She is Lily’s regular babysitter, but is also a friend and will lend a hand when needed. So publicly- thanks for that.) Off I went on the Metro-North. I arrived at the clinic around 11:00 and was told at the check-in desk that all of the walk-ins were gone for the day.

Naturally, I started to cry.

“Is it an emergency?” The guys asked.

“It is, actually,” I answered quite truthfully. My thyroid condition is well-managed and totally under control. But left untreated… well, no one wants that.

“It’s OK. Just sign in and talk to the nurse,” he said, smiling. Seriously. Smiling.

So I sat down, and I waited. I waited maybe- MAYBE- twenty minutes before a nurse called my name, took me into a room, asked me why I was there, and immediately closed the door when I started crying. (there’s a lot of crying in this story.)

I told her I tried to make an appointment. I knew I should have an appointment. And I couldn’t get there any earlier because I needed to have a babysitter, and I just really really needed my medication and-

A few clicks on the computer and a short phone call later and she had an appointment for me with a doctor who was ahead of schedule for the day. No judgment. She just… fixed it.

I was sitting in front of that doctor about fifteen minutes later.

“So, what brings you in today?”

“Well, first of all, I really need my thyroid medication refilled.”

“OK. I can do that.” Clicking on the computer, pulling up my chart…. And then… “And second? You said ‘first of all.’ So what else?”

Oh, look. I’m crying again.

I told her that I’d struggled with depression for a long time. That I’ve been off of medication for about a year and I’m realizing that’s probably not a great long-term plan. That I was in therapy forever, I have the skills, I get it, but only if my chemicals are balanced. Which… they are not, currently.

Very, very calmly, she started to ask me some questions. About my life, whether I have anxiety, that kind of thing. I told her I hadn’t had anxiety before, but that I started to have it pretty badly when I went from being a college professor to staying home with my daughter.

“Ah. So you lost your job.”

“No. It was a choice.”

“Oh!” she smiled. Because this is a legitimate choice, and she understands that. “And do you have a partner?”

“Yes, my husband.”

“And you can’t get health insurance through his job?”

“No. We can’t.”

“He’s an artist?”

“Ha! Yes! Yes he is! We both are!” And the thing is, she wasn’t saying it in an “oh, I see, you guys are dead-beat parents who don’t know how to take care of things” kind of way. (yes, we’ve gotten this attitude.) It was only “oh, I see. You guys are legitimately in a field which often does not provide health insurance.”

And THAT makes all the difference.

I left the clinic with two prescriptions ($27), two future appointments, and a renewed sense of hope. Please, check it out my friends. It’s open to anyone (I don’t even live in the State of NY, let alone the city…) and it’s a really solid option for us until we get this figured out. Or the government does. Either way. Stay healthy out there.

Move Over Laura Ingalls

Things in my apartment that do not currently work properly.

1. My phone. The button at the bottom that takes the user back to the home screen does not work. At all. In order to get back to the home screen, I have to shut off the phone and restart it. As an iPhone addict, this is more than just a nuisance. It is life-altering.

2. The TV. It just shuts off and turns back on. Whenever it wants. Granted, we got this TV around the time we got married, so sure it's not HD or anything, but it should WORK for goodness sake. And Lily doesn't understand the word "broken." So she throws herself on the floor and cries when she pushes the button and nothing happens. Don't get me wrong, she's not obsessed with TV. She's obsessed with buttons.

3. The microwave. I tried to use it a few weeks ago and it sparked as if there was metal inside. (there was not.) I stopped it, had Ryan look at it, he had the same result, and it has been unplugged ever since. But it holds our little bride and groom cow quite nicely, so it is still good for something.

4. The computer. It's "fine." But it's six years old (a dinosaur, in computer years) and isn't even fast enough to watch videos online. (Netflix. Perverts.) And since it's a desktop, it's stuck here in our room, which means I can only use it when Lily is sleeping, or when Ryan is home to watch her. But if Ryan is home, I don't want to be stuck working in another room. And there are two times during the week when I have a break for HOURS and could be writing, but have nothing on which to write.

Now. There are people without food water and shelter. And there are people without love. And I have a lot. I know this. Seriously, I do, and if you point out what I have as a response to this post, I'm calling you out for not paying attention. But we get used to modern conveniences, and when they stop working, I for one get very whiny.

Does anyone know of a reality show that gives people technology makeovers? Kate Kenny? Anyone?

Party Pooper

I really hate practical jokes. I spend every April 1 in an exhausting state of readiness, determined not to be fooled. This is probably because I have a profound fear of looking foolish, but generally speaking, I just don't think it's funny.

But it's important to note that there's a difference between looking silly and looking foolish. I am a performer and a Mommy- I look silly most of the time. And I have seen a variety of April Fool's Day jokes over the years that are silly. A few favorites:

-Martha Stewart does an April Fool's Day show every year during which she gives ridiculous tips like how to cover an overstuffed chair in gold glitter and how to char a steak all the way through. 

-Improv Everywhere has sent out updates about their newest missions on April 1 for the past two years. Last year the "mission" was about surprising people at a funeral, this year it was a no pants, no underwear subway ride. (complete with doctored photos, blurred out of course, which were fairly convincing.)

What cracks me up about these particular jokes is the reactions they got. People emailed Martha confused, certain they had done something wrong, because their husbands really hated the charred steaks. And was there a way to keep the glitter from falling off? Should the seal it with something? By 1:00 this morning people had flooded the Improv Everywhere website with comments expressing both awe and horror. "Wow! I would be way too shy to do that!" and "Man, you guys have gone too far. Kids ride subways."

These jokes are silly and outrageous and funny. Think, people. If you don't like burnt steak, don't make it just because Martha says so. And really? You think they rode the subway naked? REALLY?Really.

Less funny? Simply making fools out of people. Hahahahaha! You believed a perfectly reasonable scenario and reacted the way any rational person would! Haaaaaaaahahahahahahaha! I cannot watch shows like "Punked." You thought someone stole your car! You were SO MAD! Of course they were mad- it's a nice car, and cars really get stolen every day.  I didn't even like "TV's Bloopers and Practical Jokes." I get so uncomfortable- making "fools" of people is just mean.

So this Apri 1, two pieces of advice: be alert, and be nice.

Barking Up the Wrong Tree

I am a New Yorker. As a citizen of the Big Apple, I have become accustomed to being asked for money. On the subway, on the corner, in the park- panhandlers are everywhere. Generally, people begging for money on the streets of New York are harmless- a slight nuisance. They ask, you ignore them, the end.

Yesterday, however, I had two encounters with panhandlers that were so aggressive that they went so far as to offend me, and quite honestly, frighten me a little. 

Panhandler Number One was approaching people on the R traing into Manhattan from Queens. I was playing Sudoku- medium difficulty- and was making record time. It is usually easy to ignore someone while playing Sudoku on an iPhone. But it's pretty tough to ignore someone who taps your knee and then puts his hand in your face. "No!" I said, making no effort to hide my disgust. I'm not usually rude to strangers, but seriously. Who did he think he was touching my knee and then asking for money? Don't worry, I still set a new best time on my Suduko.

Panhandler Number Two came up to me at Starbucks, where I was sitting at a table, working on Ryan's laptop. "Excuse me, can I just talk to you for a minute?" She then sat down in the booth next to me, trapping me, as I was sitting in the corner. She was crying. (or pretending to) "I'm just trying to get something to eat. Someone just took my luggage from Penn Station. I'm here for my mother's funeral." Wow. Talk about rotten luck, eh? Hungry, and your mother died, AND someone stole your luggage?

Under normal circumstances, I would humor an interaction like this, (much to the dismay of anyone who hangs out with me in the city...) and offer advice-suggest she go to the police and report the crime, etc. But my panhandler patience was all used up for the day. And anyway, the woman had managed to slide her hand over my iPhone which rested on the table.

"I am NOT in a position to help you," I said, yanking my phone out of her hands to emphasize my "not."

She started to object, then stopped when she saw the look in my eyes. She 
moved to the next table, and got through her sob story another three or four times before getting kicked out of the store.

I am not a hardened New Yorker. I would be described by most people who know me well as extremely generous. And I most certainly know what it feels like to fall on hard times. And maybe that's why it made me so angry. I don't blame people for being financially needy. And I don't blame them for being desperate. But what upsets me so much is the way they assume they need the money more than I do. Yes, I'm sitting at a Starbucks. Yes, I have an iPhone and a laptop and a Vera Bradley bag. But they have no idea what my situation is like. (They also don't know that the bag was a gift, and the computer is borrowed...)

I have friends who made twelve thousand dollars last year and are in serious financial trouble. I have friends who made over a hundred thousand dollars last year and are in serious trouble. So for anyone who likes to make decisions about people's ability to help- whether you're a bleeding heart or a tea partier or a subway crazy- do me a favor. Save it.