Birth Control Queen

I used to be the Birth Control Queen. I had a crown and everything. Back in my old social worker days, my co-workers made me a pink crown out of empty birth control pill packages

due to my client's overwhelmingly high percentage rate of tubal ligation surgeries and other long-term no more baby-making commitments. I was so proud. I figured that after two or three crack babies, maybe a lady should give it a rest. This was definitely not a policy my employers espoused, but nobody ever told me to shut up about it, so I just kept bringing it up, over and over again until I would wear them down. Think about your future. Think about the kids that you do have. How about your education? Let's talk. Pros and cons. Here's your appointment. Get in, I'll drive. Sometimes it was as easy as just presenting the options. I have tried to do the same with Shana, too, over the years, and even most of her friends. Here are the facts, girls. I started with Don't Touch Any Penises. Simple. To the point. Just Say No was thrown in there, too, among other things and eventually, after lots of yearly trips to Planned Parenthood for discussions on every possible form of protection available, I gave up as they all hit adulthood and figured I did all I could. I did my job, kept my crown. But yesterday one of our patients came in, fourteen years old, pregnant. We've watched her grow up. I can remember her back in elementary school. I think of all those times I could have said something to her or her mom. Made a little penis joke. Fulfilled my queenly duties. Looked her in the eye and said, "Hey, girlie, listen to me. I care about you. Please protect yourself."

And I'm heartbroken that I didn't.

The squeaky wheel...

gets the cup!!!! 

After numerous blogs and emails and even a last ditch, desperate comment to harkins.com, the delightful Brenda finally said - come on down. Shawn was pretty sure they would have the cops waiting for me to take me in for stalking, so he came along, too. And score! I got the cup! I didn't push my luck for any more loot, just happy as can be. Me vs. The Man! The little guy wins. Happy Harkins Hollywood ending. Thanks. From the bottom of my heart. Thanks. Begging over.

For now.

Movie Madness - Black Swan

Natalie Portman in Black Swan. Natalie Portman actually became the Black Swan in an incredible psycho-drama. Great turnout with lots of little Petite Ya Ya Swans. Dan? Dan Harkins? The year is coming to an end. Come on, from one movie lover to the next - give me a cup! The 2011 Harkins Theater Souvenir Cup.
This is it. My last chance for a free Harkins Theater 2011 Souvenir Cup. PLEASE, Dan Harkins! PLEASE. I do so much. Every week, 52 weeks a year, risking friendships, sending out emails to people that probably think - Doesn't she have anything better to do? Can't she just leave me alone? Does she have some sort of job at Harkins Theater? Or just some kind of Movie Madness mental illness? So, please, last chance, just one cup would be so great.

Don't make me beg...

Double Take

My mother-in-law checked me out today. She liked what she saw. I'm nowhere near Shakira, Shakira - my hips don't lie - of course and never will be, but I recently squeezed into some marked down, on sale for $25 bucks CAbi jeans, size 8 (which is really a size 10 in CAbi years) and have noticed people doing the double take. I have a friend that causes about 99% of heads to turn when she walks into a room, and after dropping twenty pounds, I've been noticing about a 2-3% average lately, like a guy at the gas station the other day and a lady who said something about my jacket on Saturday. Maybe I'll start wearing a bikini around town and shaking my thing like Shakira or wheel a little wagon full of lard behind me to see if I can up my percentage.

Ho Ho Ho

Tree's up. Shana's home. And, since nobody's getting gifts this year since the holiday allowance is all going toward The Shana Sullivan Excellent Seven Month European Adventure Charity Fund (well, since she never reads the blog - there are a couple of cheap little things wrapped under the tree - hair clips, gloves for snowy Spain, one votive candle),  Santa, it's your turn.

Ask and Tell All You Want

United (we?) stand

UnitedHealthcare is taking over the world. Buying up all the properties in Monopoly. As of 1-1-11, their name will be on the following insurance plans that I deal with - all over the ID cards, all over the internet, all over the telephone numbers I need to call, taking up a big, big spot in my brain:

Medicare/AARP, Pacificare, Lifeprint, Secure Horizons, APIPA, Personal Care Plus, Evercare, probably more to come.

Gives me a headache. I wonder if that's covered.

Foxy New Year's Eve

Oh, how I love sale. And, oh, how I love Fox Restaurants, too. Smokin' deals for New Year's Eve. Yum.

Fifteen Pounds

The WW lady didn't smile at me this week, but she didn't scowl, either. I gained one pound back out of the two I lost last week. She said that's good for this time of year. I'm still one down, technically. In Weight Watchers speak. The cult-like crowded house determined that showing up is half the battle. Leader threw out this statistic: WW members that quit during the holidays gain FIFTEEN pounds before they make it back at the beginning of the year. Fifteen. Yuk. New goal. Just don't quit.

Coming or Going?

There's a new rule at the Costco food place. Line up like you're at Disneyland, but without the metal chains. They used to have the individual lines like at the bank drive-thru, but sometimes you could get stuck in the wrong line, behind some crazy person that needs hot dogs, an entire pizza, fro yo, the works and just watch helplessly as the other lines move smoothly by you. Infuriating, but that, at least, I understand. Today, though, I was confused. I got in behind these three characters to get a Diet Coke. Where are they? Are they coming or going? All three, being difficult. Holding up traffic. Flaunting the absence of chains. Stepping over the line. On the crazy last Saturday before Christmas. Pick a line, people, pick a line.