I've been thinking about sharing some of the local nuttiness that I find so endearing around here but I'm a slacker.
Ok they are not all endearing but they're all local and that is what slays me.
Take our local "Alt Rock" which is now just MODERN ROCK station..........
You know the station. It's the one that used to play Nirvana and Soundgarden when no one else would. So anyway, I've lived in a LOT of major metro areas and I've visited a lot. Cumulus or some of other radio conglomerate usually owns some cookie cutter station that plays HARD ROCK blah blah blah and you can count on the play list.
You can count on the DJs and the style and the stuff they advertise (headshops,strip clubs,fast food,job fairs) and the fact that INCUBUS is coming to town and only THEY HAVE BACKSTAGE PASSES. They have a music festival and they have DJs remote in clubs that are dark and gothic even though no goth bands play there anymore.
You know the station. Every major metro area has one.
Ours however is a little different. Just a smidge.
Example? Well let me give you one.....
Today a caller gives them a ring and reminds them that it's been DAYS since they played the ULTIMATE DRIVING SONG.
There is witty banter. There is wry repartee.
There is more chatter and DJ witticism and then.........the DJ agrees to unleash the ultimate driving song on usfor our evening commute............and it is.....?
Showing posts with label Info You Need. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Info You Need. Show all posts
Friday, August 07, 2009
Welcome To Atlanta - PART 1
I've been thinking about sharing some of the local nuttiness that I find so endearing around here but I'm a slacker.
Ok they are not all endearing but they're all local and that is what slays me.
Take our local "Alt Rock" which is now just MODERN ROCK station..........
You know the station. It's the one that used to play Nirvana and Soundgarden when no one else would. So anyway, I've lived in a LOT of major metro areas and I've visited a lot. Cumulus or some of other radio conglomerate usually owns some cookie cutter station that plays HARD ROCK blah blah blah and you can count on the play list.
You can count on the DJs and the style and the stuff they advertise (headshops,strip clubs,fast food,job fairs) and the fact that INCUBUS is coming to town and only THEY HAVE BACKSTAGE PASSES. They have a music festival and they have DJs remote in clubs that are dark and gothic even though no goth bands play there anymore.
You know the station. Every major metro area has one.
Ours however is a little different. Just a smidge.
Example? Well let me give you one.....
Today a caller gives them a ring and reminds them that it's been DAYS since they played the ULTIMATE DRIVING SONG.
There is witty banter. There is wry repartee.
There is more chatter and DJ witticism and then.........the DJ agrees to unleash the ultimate driving song on usfor our evening commute............and it is.....?
Ok they are not all endearing but they're all local and that is what slays me.
Take our local "Alt Rock" which is now just MODERN ROCK station..........
You know the station. It's the one that used to play Nirvana and Soundgarden when no one else would. So anyway, I've lived in a LOT of major metro areas and I've visited a lot. Cumulus or some of other radio conglomerate usually owns some cookie cutter station that plays HARD ROCK blah blah blah and you can count on the play list.
You can count on the DJs and the style and the stuff they advertise (headshops,strip clubs,fast food,job fairs) and the fact that INCUBUS is coming to town and only THEY HAVE BACKSTAGE PASSES. They have a music festival and they have DJs remote in clubs that are dark and gothic even though no goth bands play there anymore.
You know the station. Every major metro area has one.
Ours however is a little different. Just a smidge.
Example? Well let me give you one.....
Today a caller gives them a ring and reminds them that it's been DAYS since they played the ULTIMATE DRIVING SONG.
There is witty banter. There is wry repartee.
There is more chatter and DJ witticism and then.........the DJ agrees to unleash the ultimate driving song on usfor our evening commute............and it is.....?
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Neither a Steinem Nor a Cleaver Be
So I sit in this group I belong to, a group of women with whom I reproductive tendencies in common, and I am listening to a speaker. We often have a speaker and sometimes they are good and sometimes they are bad but what NEVER fails to blow my mind is how they don't seem to have any clue WHO we are or anything about WOMEN who exist in the year 2009.
This idiot, for instance.
He seems like a nice enough man - until he talks for a while. And he's talking about getting massages, and about the therapeutic/real world/medicinal benefits to your overall being blah blah blah. Yes, we get it - MASSAGES ARE GOOD FOR YOU.
This is when he trips up, because the question is posed to the group "Why don't you regularly get massages" and everyone giggles and mentions price.
I suppose we giggle because we're girls and girls are supposed to giggle. It's the herd mentality at work.
This is when he then goes astray........puts a foot wrong, as far as I'm concerned.
He starts telling us that OUR HUSBANDS ARE OUT SPENDING MONEY! Oh YES THEY ARE!
And that WE DESERVE something nice for our selves.
We deserve to get our hair and nails done! We deserve massages and shopping trips!
Because.......are you ready?
HE KNOWS THAT THIS IS IMPORTANT TO WOMEN.
Blink.
He keeps talking. (I had him a metaphorical shovel).
He goes on about how if we're going to have to make sure our men have pressed shirts, and that we get dinner on the table.........well then that we deserve some luxuries to. AGAIN........he goes BACK to the hair and nails analogy. Again he insists that our husbands are out WASTING money and we don't know it.
Now.........I'm no Gloria Steinem. I'm not burning my bra, cuz I need it to hold up my tits. I like girly things, I like getting my hair and nails done. But basically what I was being told was that these were things I needed.......TO FUNCTION. That for me, as a woman, I had to have these things for my own personal satisfaction.
I suppose so that I'd be less likely to bitch about making his dinner, ironing his shirts and getting him that blow job he needs right after the kids go to bed. "But honey, you got your nails and toes done today - now get to work!"
Cuz that's equality at work! I suppose if I get a massage it's an all anal Friday night then eh? Clearly it's all about quid pro quo at that point.
Which doesn't seem like much of a marriage to me. And no my husband isn't out "blowing money" and guess what NEITHER AM I. If we want things, we make room in the budget for them, we discuss them like grown ups.
So I sat there and stewed about what an a-hole this guy was, and how even though his prices were good I was really sooooo not impressed - that although his wife might be greeting him at the door with a drinkee - really even my barely feminist self was offended at this throwback attitude to women. Basically - I was sitting there hating him and wishing he'd just up and quit pandering to us like a group of females slobbering for male attention.
And then they did the door prize drawing for a one hour massage.
This idiot, for instance.
He seems like a nice enough man - until he talks for a while. And he's talking about getting massages, and about the therapeutic/real world/medicinal benefits to your overall being blah blah blah. Yes, we get it - MASSAGES ARE GOOD FOR YOU.
This is when he trips up, because the question is posed to the group "Why don't you regularly get massages" and everyone giggles and mentions price.
I suppose we giggle because we're girls and girls are supposed to giggle. It's the herd mentality at work.
This is when he then goes astray........puts a foot wrong, as far as I'm concerned.
He starts telling us that OUR HUSBANDS ARE OUT SPENDING MONEY! Oh YES THEY ARE!
And that WE DESERVE something nice for our selves.
We deserve to get our hair and nails done! We deserve massages and shopping trips!
Because.......are you ready?
HE KNOWS THAT THIS IS IMPORTANT TO WOMEN.
Blink.
He keeps talking. (I had him a metaphorical shovel).
He goes on about how if we're going to have to make sure our men have pressed shirts, and that we get dinner on the table.........well then that we deserve some luxuries to. AGAIN........he goes BACK to the hair and nails analogy. Again he insists that our husbands are out WASTING money and we don't know it.
Now.........I'm no Gloria Steinem. I'm not burning my bra, cuz I need it to hold up my tits. I like girly things, I like getting my hair and nails done. But basically what I was being told was that these were things I needed.......TO FUNCTION. That for me, as a woman, I had to have these things for my own personal satisfaction.
I suppose so that I'd be less likely to bitch about making his dinner, ironing his shirts and getting him that blow job he needs right after the kids go to bed. "But honey, you got your nails and toes done today - now get to work!"
Cuz that's equality at work! I suppose if I get a massage it's an all anal Friday night then eh? Clearly it's all about quid pro quo at that point.
Which doesn't seem like much of a marriage to me. And no my husband isn't out "blowing money" and guess what NEITHER AM I. If we want things, we make room in the budget for them, we discuss them like grown ups.
So I sat there and stewed about what an a-hole this guy was, and how even though his prices were good I was really sooooo not impressed - that although his wife might be greeting him at the door with a drinkee - really even my barely feminist self was offended at this throwback attitude to women. Basically - I was sitting there hating him and wishing he'd just up and quit pandering to us like a group of females slobbering for male attention.
And then they did the door prize drawing for a one hour massage.
So you know, how bad a guy can he really be?
Neither a Steinem Nor a Cleaver Be
So I sit in this group I belong to, a group of women with whom I reproductive tendencies in common, and I am listening to a speaker. We often have a speaker and sometimes they are good and sometimes they are bad but what NEVER fails to blow my mind is how they don't seem to have any clue WHO we are or anything about WOMEN who exist in the year 2009.
This idiot, for instance.
He seems like a nice enough man - until he talks for a while. And he's talking about getting massages, and about the therapeutic/real world/medicinal benefits to your overall being blah blah blah. Yes, we get it - MASSAGES ARE GOOD FOR YOU.
This is when he trips up, because the question is posed to the group "Why don't you regularly get massages" and everyone giggles and mentions price.
I suppose we giggle because we're girls and girls are supposed to giggle. It's the herd mentality at work.
This is when he then goes astray........puts a foot wrong, as far as I'm concerned.
He starts telling us that OUR HUSBANDS ARE OUT SPENDING MONEY! Oh YES THEY ARE!
And that WE DESERVE something nice for our selves.
We deserve to get our hair and nails done! We deserve massages and shopping trips!
Because.......are you ready?
HE KNOWS THAT THIS IS IMPORTANT TO WOMEN.
Blink.
He keeps talking. (I had him a metaphorical shovel).
He goes on about how if we're going to have to make sure our men have pressed shirts, and that we get dinner on the table.........well then that we deserve some luxuries to. AGAIN........he goes BACK to the hair and nails analogy. Again he insists that our husbands are out WASTING money and we don't know it.
Now.........I'm no Gloria Steinem. I'm not burning my bra, cuz I need it to hold up my tits. I like girly things, I like getting my hair and nails done. But basically what I was being told was that these were things I needed.......TO FUNCTION. That for me, as a woman, I had to have these things for my own personal satisfaction.
I suppose so that I'd be less likely to bitch about making his dinner, ironing his shirts and getting him that blow job he needs right after the kids go to bed. "But honey, you got your nails and toes done today - now get to work!"
Cuz that's equality at work! I suppose if I get a massage it's an all anal Friday night then eh? Clearly it's all about quid pro quo at that point.
Which doesn't seem like much of a marriage to me. And no my husband isn't out "blowing money" and guess what NEITHER AM I. If we want things, we make room in the budget for them, we discuss them like grown ups.
So I sat there and stewed about what an a-hole this guy was, and how even though his prices were good I was really sooooo not impressed - that although his wife might be greeting him at the door with a drinkee - really even my barely feminist self was offended at this throwback attitude to women. Basically - I was sitting there hating him and wishing he'd just up and quit pandering to us like a group of females slobbering for male attention.
And then they did the door prize drawing for a one hour massage.
This idiot, for instance.
He seems like a nice enough man - until he talks for a while. And he's talking about getting massages, and about the therapeutic/real world/medicinal benefits to your overall being blah blah blah. Yes, we get it - MASSAGES ARE GOOD FOR YOU.
This is when he trips up, because the question is posed to the group "Why don't you regularly get massages" and everyone giggles and mentions price.
I suppose we giggle because we're girls and girls are supposed to giggle. It's the herd mentality at work.
This is when he then goes astray........puts a foot wrong, as far as I'm concerned.
He starts telling us that OUR HUSBANDS ARE OUT SPENDING MONEY! Oh YES THEY ARE!
And that WE DESERVE something nice for our selves.
We deserve to get our hair and nails done! We deserve massages and shopping trips!
Because.......are you ready?
HE KNOWS THAT THIS IS IMPORTANT TO WOMEN.
Blink.
He keeps talking. (I had him a metaphorical shovel).
He goes on about how if we're going to have to make sure our men have pressed shirts, and that we get dinner on the table.........well then that we deserve some luxuries to. AGAIN........he goes BACK to the hair and nails analogy. Again he insists that our husbands are out WASTING money and we don't know it.
Now.........I'm no Gloria Steinem. I'm not burning my bra, cuz I need it to hold up my tits. I like girly things, I like getting my hair and nails done. But basically what I was being told was that these were things I needed.......TO FUNCTION. That for me, as a woman, I had to have these things for my own personal satisfaction.
I suppose so that I'd be less likely to bitch about making his dinner, ironing his shirts and getting him that blow job he needs right after the kids go to bed. "But honey, you got your nails and toes done today - now get to work!"
Cuz that's equality at work! I suppose if I get a massage it's an all anal Friday night then eh? Clearly it's all about quid pro quo at that point.
Which doesn't seem like much of a marriage to me. And no my husband isn't out "blowing money" and guess what NEITHER AM I. If we want things, we make room in the budget for them, we discuss them like grown ups.
So I sat there and stewed about what an a-hole this guy was, and how even though his prices were good I was really sooooo not impressed - that although his wife might be greeting him at the door with a drinkee - really even my barely feminist self was offended at this throwback attitude to women. Basically - I was sitting there hating him and wishing he'd just up and quit pandering to us like a group of females slobbering for male attention.
And then they did the door prize drawing for a one hour massage.
So you know, how bad a guy can he really be?
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Mother's Day Dinner For......Cthulu?
Ummmmm. Ummmmmm. Nobody does Mother's Day Like They Do It In Dixie!
Mother's Day Dinner For......Cthulu?
Ummmmm. Ummmmmm. Nobody does Mother's Day Like They Do It In Dixie!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Larry The Lobster Had No Idea
So we saw THIS in a restaurant in Florida.
Yes, you drop in a dollar, and play Ye Old Claw game - but instead of dropping down a .50 value stuffed toy, it drops down a live lobster. THEN - what you can't read is the little sign says that "They'll cook it for you right there, or prepare it for you to take home and cook."
Dude, that is messed up. I'm GAMBLING with a living thing's life. Don't get me wrong, I eat lobster. But you know, I don't PLAY with them first.
I'd say what restaurant but we really like this place and I don't want to dog this one lapse of judgment on their part - and after all, it IS Florida...............
Larry The Lobster Had No Idea
So we saw THIS in a restaurant in Florida.
Yes, you drop in a dollar, and play Ye Old Claw game - but instead of dropping down a .50 value stuffed toy, it drops down a live lobster. THEN - what you can't read is the little sign says that "They'll cook it for you right there, or prepare it for you to take home and cook."
Dude, that is messed up. I'm GAMBLING with a living thing's life. Don't get me wrong, I eat lobster. But you know, I don't PLAY with them first.
I'd say what restaurant but we really like this place and I don't want to dog this one lapse of judgment on their part - and after all, it IS Florida...............
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Unseasonably Warm
So this global warming thing.......tell me more.
When we first moved into this house, one morning when I was bleary eyed I SWORE the thermometer outside my kitchen window said "120". So I think "that can't be right" but then I get busy and forget to look again. By the time I checked it again - it was 70 degrees.
So you know, when I saw this early this morning when I woke up (shut up it was like 10:30 on Saturday ok not early) you know I had to prove it!
Unseasonably Warm
So this global warming thing.......tell me more.
When we first moved into this house, one morning when I was bleary eyed I SWORE the thermometer outside my kitchen window said "120". So I think "that can't be right" but then I get busy and forget to look again. By the time I checked it again - it was 70 degrees.
So you know, when I saw this early this morning when I woke up (shut up it was like 10:30 on Saturday ok not early) you know I had to prove it!
Friday, February 20, 2009
Things Which Are Not Breaking News
- Anyone just doing their job -ie. Firefighters rescue someone. This is a good thing, but really, they are supposed to rescue people. Firefighters rescuing someone in the midst of breaking news size TRAGEDY are exempt and this is then BREAKING NEWS. (Example, Firefighters rescue me from a tree - NOT breaking news, Firefighters rescue me from the depths of a coal mine - THIS is breaking news.)
- Weather which is not catastrophic - this includes thunderstorms. Tornadoes are breaking news, HAIL could be. Thunderstorms - not so much.
- People on Capital Hill speaking about this or that, regardless of whether or not they are under subpoena. Really, breaking news used to be things you did not know were going to happen.
- Governments Balancing Budgets - Like Chris Rock says "you don't get credit for doing what you are SUPPOSED to do".
- Someone telling us the economy is bad. Duh, you're a retard and this is NOT breaking news.
- Dick Cheney being mad at W - not breaking news. This is a personal squabble. And again, only unexpected things should be breaking news.
Here are my official guidelines for breaking news. I will appreciate it if CNN and all the lesser news agencies will please abide by them: (don't make me do a damned I-Report)
Breaking News IS:
- Something unexpected
- Something which effects more than the people immediately invovled (see Dick Cheney Mad at W above)
- Something that has national impact - even if just on our hearts and minds
- Something very very tragic
- Something very very dangerous
- Something very very good
- Something bigger than it's bi-line.
- Something that makes the person who reads it or hears it say "Oh my god......." and immediately want to share it.
Things Which Are Not Breaking News
- Anyone just doing their job -ie. Firefighters rescue someone. This is a good thing, but really, they are supposed to rescue people. Firefighters rescuing someone in the midst of breaking news size TRAGEDY are exempt and this is then BREAKING NEWS. (Example, Firefighters rescue me from a tree - NOT breaking news, Firefighters rescue me from the depths of a coal mine - THIS is breaking news.)
- Weather which is not catastrophic - this includes thunderstorms. Tornadoes are breaking news, HAIL could be. Thunderstorms - not so much.
- People on Capital Hill speaking about this or that, regardless of whether or not they are under subpoena. Really, breaking news used to be things you did not know were going to happen.
- Governments Balancing Budgets - Like Chris Rock says "you don't get credit for doing what you are SUPPOSED to do".
- Someone telling us the economy is bad. Duh, you're a retard and this is NOT breaking news.
- Dick Cheney being mad at W - not breaking news. This is a personal squabble. And again, only unexpected things should be breaking news.
Here are my official guidelines for breaking news. I will appreciate it if CNN and all the lesser news agencies will please abide by them: (don't make me do a damned I-Report)
Breaking News IS:
- Something unexpected
- Something which effects more than the people immediately invovled (see Dick Cheney Mad at W above)
- Something that has national impact - even if just on our hearts and minds
- Something very very tragic
- Something very very dangerous
- Something very very good
- Something bigger than it's bi-line.
- Something that makes the person who reads it or hears it say "Oh my god......." and immediately want to share it.
Monday, February 02, 2009
They Are Not Your Children
So, I realize that there may be an outcry of rage at these words, but I seriously just have to put it out there because I'm about to burst.
Your pets are not your children.
Let me back up a moment, because I don't mean to be OVERLY harsh to the childless nor to indicate that you don't love your pets unconditionally. But there are some very basic and irefutable differences that you're going to have to acknowledge.
Your pets are not your children.
Let me back up a moment, because I don't mean to be OVERLY harsh to the childless nor to indicate that you don't love your pets unconditionally. But there are some very basic and irefutable differences that you're going to have to acknowledge.
- They are pets. I have pets. I adore them. They are precious to me and I've known them about 15 years. You own pets. You do not own children.
- They have a lifespan of less than 20 years (Human years don't convert and be annoying). In a pet thisis normal, in a child this is a tragedy.
- You can board a pet, and no that isn't the same as carting them off to Grandma's. You can think it's the same but I'm about 99% sure that Grandma loves the baby and the dog kennel people do not love your dog.
- When your pet dies, you grieve and are sad and eventually you'll probably get another pet and move on. When your child dies, your heart never heals - even if you have another child.
- Getting a dog or a cat (but usually it's a dog) does not prepare you for having a child. Not in any way shape or form. It is the equivalent of saying that boot camp prepares you for war. You learn a routine with a dog, and in boot camp. You learn real battle tactics in the field....just like parenthood.
- Your dog is cute. I don't like dogs no. But yours is cute. No, I don't want to pet him - because he smells like dog that's why.
- Getting a pet is not really a responsibility, it's a hobby. If it dies, you can replace it with one that looks nearly like it even. You will never know the meaning of your whole life being HAVE TO - unless you have a child. (And this is ok, not everyone SHOULD have a child).
So please, don't tell me that you got a dog because you're thinking about having a baby and you wanted to "have a sense of the responsibility" involved. I swear to GOD the AKC came up with that myth.
Let me make one last point.......just to illustrate how very DIFFERENT having a pet vs. having a child is.
There were two accidents on the floor of this house last week. One by a pet, one by a child. If the pet keeps it up, she's going to live outside.
The child on the other hand - well thats not even on the table now is it?
Get it?
They Are Not Your Children
So, I realize that there may be an outcry of rage at these words, but I seriously just have to put it out there because I'm about to burst.
Your pets are not your children.
Let me back up a moment, because I don't mean to be OVERLY harsh to the childless nor to indicate that you don't love your pets unconditionally. But there are some very basic and irefutable differences that you're going to have to acknowledge.
Your pets are not your children.
Let me back up a moment, because I don't mean to be OVERLY harsh to the childless nor to indicate that you don't love your pets unconditionally. But there are some very basic and irefutable differences that you're going to have to acknowledge.
- They are pets. I have pets. I adore them. They are precious to me and I've known them about 15 years. You own pets. You do not own children.
- They have a lifespan of less than 20 years (Human years don't convert and be annoying). In a pet thisis normal, in a child this is a tragedy.
- You can board a pet, and no that isn't the same as carting them off to Grandma's. You can think it's the same but I'm about 99% sure that Grandma loves the baby and the dog kennel people do not love your dog.
- When your pet dies, you grieve and are sad and eventually you'll probably get another pet and move on. When your child dies, your heart never heals - even if you have another child.
- Getting a dog or a cat (but usually it's a dog) does not prepare you for having a child. Not in any way shape or form. It is the equivalent of saying that boot camp prepares you for war. You learn a routine with a dog, and in boot camp. You learn real battle tactics in the field....just like parenthood.
- Your dog is cute. I don't like dogs no. But yours is cute. No, I don't want to pet him - because he smells like dog that's why.
- Getting a pet is not really a responsibility, it's a hobby. If it dies, you can replace it with one that looks nearly like it even. You will never know the meaning of your whole life being HAVE TO - unless you have a child. (And this is ok, not everyone SHOULD have a child).
So please, don't tell me that you got a dog because you're thinking about having a baby and you wanted to "have a sense of the responsibility" involved. I swear to GOD the AKC came up with that myth.
Let me make one last point.......just to illustrate how very DIFFERENT having a pet vs. having a child is.
There were two accidents on the floor of this house last week. One by a pet, one by a child. If the pet keeps it up, she's going to live outside.
The child on the other hand - well thats not even on the table now is it?
Get it?
Saturday, January 24, 2009
What a Difference a Doctor Can Make
My friend Michele commented to me last night that I must've been really busy because I hadn't posted in a week.
I think I was pre-occupied.
The twins had their evaluation with our new superfly pediatrician. The entire process took over TWO hours...which is most likely the longest any medical professional EVER looked at them. We sat and talked about what they can and what they cannot do and she made like a bazillion notes.
We've got the paperwork for the testing via the school system now, but more importantly we've got a doctor who wants to aggressivly pursue medical diagnosis and therapy.
She even said she'd call me back with doctors for referrals, doctors who TAKE our insurance.
The tact she says she's going to take is that because HMOs don't LIKE autism as a diagnosis, we have to come at this with every MEDICAL possibility in order to get them diagnosed and make insurance pay for treatment.
So we're gonna see all kinda specialists, all of whom will just happen to have experience with autism in addition to being, oh say, an ENT, or an Audiologist, or say, a psychologist etc.
She's also recommended doing the thing where you remove all gluten, wheat and dairy from their diet. She was pretty honest that all doctors aren't in agreement WHY it works, but that in MANY instances there has been improvement in communication skills.
So we have to figure that out.
Are they autistic? Maybe. Probably. All signs point to yes, we have a developmental delay that seems to lean toward the autism spectrum.
But I think, now, for the first time in a long time, that we're going to be alright. Because we've got a new doctor who doesn't fuck around, and she's going to help us walk down this path.
Thank God.
I think I was pre-occupied.
The twins had their evaluation with our new superfly pediatrician. The entire process took over TWO hours...which is most likely the longest any medical professional EVER looked at them. We sat and talked about what they can and what they cannot do and she made like a bazillion notes.
We've got the paperwork for the testing via the school system now, but more importantly we've got a doctor who wants to aggressivly pursue medical diagnosis and therapy.
She even said she'd call me back with doctors for referrals, doctors who TAKE our insurance.
The tact she says she's going to take is that because HMOs don't LIKE autism as a diagnosis, we have to come at this with every MEDICAL possibility in order to get them diagnosed and make insurance pay for treatment.
So we're gonna see all kinda specialists, all of whom will just happen to have experience with autism in addition to being, oh say, an ENT, or an Audiologist, or say, a psychologist etc.
She's also recommended doing the thing where you remove all gluten, wheat and dairy from their diet. She was pretty honest that all doctors aren't in agreement WHY it works, but that in MANY instances there has been improvement in communication skills.
So we have to figure that out.
Are they autistic? Maybe. Probably. All signs point to yes, we have a developmental delay that seems to lean toward the autism spectrum.
But I think, now, for the first time in a long time, that we're going to be alright. Because we've got a new doctor who doesn't fuck around, and she's going to help us walk down this path.
Thank God.
What a Difference a Doctor Can Make
My friend Michele commented to me last night that I must've been really busy because I hadn't posted in a week.
I think I was pre-occupied.
The twins had their evaluation with our new superfly pediatrician. The entire process took over TWO hours...which is most likely the longest any medical professional EVER looked at them. We sat and talked about what they can and what they cannot do and she made like a bazillion notes.
We've got the paperwork for the testing via the school system now, but more importantly we've got a doctor who wants to aggressivly pursue medical diagnosis and therapy.
She even said she'd call me back with doctors for referrals, doctors who TAKE our insurance.
The tact she says she's going to take is that because HMOs don't LIKE autism as a diagnosis, we have to come at this with every MEDICAL possibility in order to get them diagnosed and make insurance pay for treatment.
So we're gonna see all kinda specialists, all of whom will just happen to have experience with autism in addition to being, oh say, an ENT, or an Audiologist, or say, a psychologist etc.
She's also recommended doing the thing where you remove all gluten, wheat and dairy from their diet. She was pretty honest that all doctors aren't in agreement WHY it works, but that in MANY instances there has been improvement in communication skills.
So we have to figure that out.
Are they autistic? Maybe. Probably. All signs point to yes, we have a developmental delay that seems to lean toward the autism spectrum.
But I think, now, for the first time in a long time, that we're going to be alright. Because we've got a new doctor who doesn't fuck around, and she's going to help us walk down this path.
Thank God.
I think I was pre-occupied.
The twins had their evaluation with our new superfly pediatrician. The entire process took over TWO hours...which is most likely the longest any medical professional EVER looked at them. We sat and talked about what they can and what they cannot do and she made like a bazillion notes.
We've got the paperwork for the testing via the school system now, but more importantly we've got a doctor who wants to aggressivly pursue medical diagnosis and therapy.
She even said she'd call me back with doctors for referrals, doctors who TAKE our insurance.
The tact she says she's going to take is that because HMOs don't LIKE autism as a diagnosis, we have to come at this with every MEDICAL possibility in order to get them diagnosed and make insurance pay for treatment.
So we're gonna see all kinda specialists, all of whom will just happen to have experience with autism in addition to being, oh say, an ENT, or an Audiologist, or say, a psychologist etc.
She's also recommended doing the thing where you remove all gluten, wheat and dairy from their diet. She was pretty honest that all doctors aren't in agreement WHY it works, but that in MANY instances there has been improvement in communication skills.
So we have to figure that out.
Are they autistic? Maybe. Probably. All signs point to yes, we have a developmental delay that seems to lean toward the autism spectrum.
But I think, now, for the first time in a long time, that we're going to be alright. Because we've got a new doctor who doesn't fuck around, and she's going to help us walk down this path.
Thank God.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
"Ummm, Can You Come Back Here?"
*Let me start off with a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUCKA! to Sarah one of my favoritest people in the world.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.
I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.
On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.
Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."
Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."
So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.
"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."
Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.
I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.
The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.
It was shaped like a turd.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.
I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.
On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.
Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."
Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."
So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.
"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."
Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.
I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.
The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.
It was shaped like a turd.
"Ummm, Can You Come Back Here?"
*Let me start off with a belated HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUCKA! to Sarah one of my favoritest people in the world.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.
I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.
On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.
Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."
Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."
So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.
"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."
Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.
I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.
The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.
It was shaped like a turd.
This post is dedicated to her, in response to her post about not having to wipe people's butts when she didn't work from home. True story, enjoy.
I used to have this job where I was required to be in to work really really early - due to the fact that I was the one who churned out the daily reports for all the hoohas about the previous day's performance. I'd roll in to work some days as early as 6am. My staff were pretty cool, and usually wise enough to have a hot pot of coffee going as they all knew what a surly bitch I am without my caffeine.
On the day in question, I rolled in a little late- 7:15am, threw some coffee in a cup and started importing data. At this time of day, other than a team lead, I was the only "leadership" in the building. Even though I didn't manage "a team" - I was a manager so if there was a problem, it was mine.
Shortly after I started keying my phone rang.
"Ummm, can you come back here? There's a turd on the floor."
To which I responded,"Oh there is not - it's mud off of someone's shoe - it's been raining."
Rep:"No- it's a turd. We need you to come back here."
So I get up and walk through the largely desolate call center, back to the only row where there are people sitting, 7 of them to be exact. And yes, in the middle of the aisle - is a large turd.
"Was this here when you got here?" I ask.
"No."
"Okay, who has been through here this morning?"
"No one, just us."
"Okay, you guys - one of you had to SEE this - they don't magically appear.......seriously who came through?"
"No one, we all came in together, and it wasn't here, and then when we just looked over here, there it was."
Sigh. Yes, they indeed were trying to tell me that a turd had materialized in their aisle.
I grunted and told them not to touch it and marched back to my office to call the facilities mgmt group to come clean it up asap, left a message on their voice mail and then relocated the entire team to another aisle - one that was turdless.
The best part of this story, is that my HR team told me that I should have saved it for the police, WHOM they called. And I had to be interviewed by. Because apparently, unbeknown to me, FECAL GRAFFITI (it was not graffiti it was just a turd but they wouldn't listen) is some GANG thing. I kept saying "It wasn't used for ink. It was just a turd, like someone squatted, dropped it and walked on." But they wanted to know if there was writing on it, or if it was SHAPED like anything.
It was shaped like a turd.
Monday, November 17, 2008
The Latest Fashions for Cult Members!
She's even got some cult looking hair-do. I mean what the hell?
My very sad confession is that my first thought upon seeing this was "ooo man that looks warm"......lame.
The Latest Fashions for Cult Members!
She's even got some cult looking hair-do. I mean what the hell?
My very sad confession is that my first thought upon seeing this was "ooo man that looks warm"......lame.
