People find it really weird that I am friends with one of my boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend. I’ve discussed “the ex factor” before and to this day both that ex and I have been questioned endlessly by people of “How can you be friends with her? Isn’t it, like, awkward?” Actually, no, thanks for asking, for the millionth time.

Mack’s ex is currently about eight months pregnant with her first child. She has called me every-so-often to regale me with the “wonders” of pregnancy, thus ensuing that I don’t want to be pregnant for the next ten years. Mack and I were one of the first few people she told of the pregnancy and we’ve supported her as best we could from 3000 miles away.

While I am friends with this ex girlfriend, his previous one (aka the one before me) and I do not get along. At all. We have never met face to face and I bet she and I will go to extreme lengths to prevent ever having to meet. I say this about her since her name alone brings shivers down my spine and generally puts me in a bad mood. I am sure, of course, that the same feelings are felt about me by her.

Her name also happens to be the name of the pregnant ex’s sister. This is extremely important to remember. Let’s call her “Jane” just for clarity sake.

Last week when I was retrieving the mail I was surprised to find a card addressed to me. Usually, my mail consists of bills and credit card offers. Who cared enough to send me a letter? Now, a few weeks ago, pregnant-ex told me that she was going to have a baby shower the weekend after we moved up to the northwest, and she was going to be inviting me. This, of course, went completely to the back of my mind not long after she said this. I had more important things to think about such as packing and terrorizing the cats.

Now, imagine my horror at looking at the envelope and seeing the name of the city where Mack and all his ex’s grew up and the sender being “Jane”. Of course I immediately start to spazz out like “Why is she trying to contact ME!?” Quickly, my mind starts jumping to the possibilities. Could she have sent me a letter bomb? A picture of her middle finger? The possibilities were endless and in my panicked state I thought were perfectly legit and could happen (even though I know wouldn’t).

Staring at the envelope harder, after the initial spazz-attack, I caught myself and looked at the name again, harder. Then I realized this “Jane” had a different last name than the ex.

Then I realized it was pregnant-ex’s sister sending me the baby shower invite.

Picking up the phone as I drove my car back to the apartment, I called pregnant-ex who picked up the phone cheerfully. “Thanks for the heads up on the baby shower invite, jerk. You almost gave me a heart attack,” I snarled into the phone which caused her, in turn, to laugh till, I imagine, she was blue in the face.

Technorati Tags: ex’s, relationships, past girlfriends, mistaken identity, mistakes, spazz attacks, girlfriend, boyfriend

Dear Cat Whom Shall be Known as “G” for Anonymity -

What can I say G? I am writing you a letter today to discuss your behavioral issues in hopes that we can live in a sort of peace before you are handed off to my parents at the end of the month. You are an adorable cat, G, but there are some things I am going to outline in the letter that, in order to maintain a loving professional relationship until you move on, you need to work on if we’re to give you free reign (again) of the apartment at night instead of being locked in the spare bathroom with food, water, and a litter box.

First off G, is it really necessary to freak the fuck out whenever the boys are within a ten-foot radius of you? I get that they like to look at you and invade your personal space. Trust me, I get it. I don’t like people within my personal bubble, too. You think I like when Bucky lays across my desk and uses my mouse as his personal headrest? Seriously though, freaking out and hissing, spitting, and screaming… I could really do without it. Oftentimes the boys are just passing you by, oblivious to you. I can let you in on a secret G… the boys are only interested in the following:

1. Other male cats
2. Food
3. Somewhere to sleep
4. Unsuspecting individual who doesn’t see them coming
5. Irritating individuals who hiss, spit, and act like a bitch if they get too close.

Do you see yourself falling into any of those categories, G?

Again, I get where you’re coming from, but when you sit in the doorway to the bathroom and block their exit I think it is a little unfair to FREAK OUT and scream. There is a reason why they like to catch you unaware and jump on your back (besides the obvious reason that they are my cats and like to be jerks). Perhaps if you take a chill pill and let them leave the bathroom in peace? Or stop giving into their petty games. I know I, personally, would harass you constantly if I were a cat just to prove what a high maintenance piece of work you are.

But back to the title of this open letter: seriously G, what is the deal? I get that you are terrorized and otherwise bullied by the boys and live in a “constant state of fear” but pooping in the tub? Is that really a necessary thing? What about the peeing on the carpet, clothes, and other items that we use? It’s really disgusting, G, and it’s not like you don’t have your own personal litter box which the boys aren’t allowed near, lest you FREAK OUT.

Mack and I are frankly at a loss, G. You poop in the tub in the middle of the night, so we have to put you in the spare bathroom with all the items you need while we sleep. You know that it’s not just the pooping (though that is a good enough reason in my books) that has made me banish you: the FREAK OUTS all night also really, really helped with that decision. It broke my heart at first that we had to do this, G, but my sympathy went away when we let you out of the bathroom early in the morning and you ran into our shower to poop.

Seriously.

Let us reach a compromise, G, so that we can enjoy the rest of our month together before you go off to my parents house and proceed to get spoiled. How about you take a chill pill in regards to the boys? You know they’re not interested in you in that way and only pick on you because you’re such a spazz. Trust me, G, I know. Why do you think my five brothers terrorized me growing up? Since I FREAKED OUT about it. And the pooping? What more can we do, G? Does the litter box need to be lined in SOLID GOLD BARS to meet your high princess standards?

I get you have issues you need to work out after being thrown out of the past few homes, G. I guess I’d pee and poop on the carpet too (if I were an animal since, as a human, it’s less socially acceptable) if I’d been shown the boot twice in one year. My plea to you, however, is let’s work on the prissy nature and find some sort of unity and love between you cats.

… especially since you’ll be stuck in a car with the boys for four days straight at the end of the month.

I love you Gracie-Grace and hope, with this letter as the ice-breaker, we can improve upon our relationship and have peace in the apartment.

Yours, etc.
Anne

Technorati Tags: animals, pets, domestic shorthairs, animal relationships, relationships, high maintenance animals, behavior issues, poop, open letter, animal bodily functions

Mack and I both were born and raised in the northwest. As those of you who live (or lived) or visited the northwest know of the deep beauty and majestic splendor that is the very nature of the area. Nature is all around you, surrounding you, holding you close as it embraces its own. Mother Nature is like your second mother as the skies rain down on you and give life to the soil and keep you constantly drenched.

When I turned twenty, I grew antsy of living in the same place and felt that my life was kind of at a standstill. I had to take the jump and change. I loved being around my family but felt that, with only an Associates degree in web design, I’d only go so far— that little training is limiting. The college I went to in Seattle was taking its time about getting the Bachelors degree program and I was getting sick of waiting for it (they only recently got the Bachelors program). Sure, I could work the field, but I felt that I needed to go back to school and gain more of an education to have more of a background and understanding of the field. A change in surroundings, also, was welcome. At sixteen, I had lived abroad in Japan for a year and, having been in Seattle (minus trips around the country) since then without living elsewhere, I felt that I needed to embrace change and try living somewhere else while I worked on my education.

I choose Phoenix, Arizona since my brother and his family lived down there. I mean, come on, how could you not want to live close to this guy?

I thoroughly enjoyed living in Phoenix and watching my nephew grow from being a baby to a hyper toddler. I met and fell in love with Mack while living there. I was surprised, however, at how quickly I found myself missing the northwest. In the first month, while I had my brother only a twenty-minute drive away from my apartment, I was living alone and found myself missing my family and friends up there. I’m really close to my family, especially my Mom and brother Noah, so would call them everyday to talk about my adjustment to life on my own and, eventually, my life as Mack and I started dating and eventually moved in together. Phoenix had a beauty of its own and I adore it, however, I’m a northwest girl at heart and found myself missing it.

Both Mack and I graduated from college with our Bachelor degrees in our respective fields and we were ready to conquer the world and all it brought us. When Mack got a phone call from the company he did his internship with here in Jacksonville in February he jumped on the opportunity. Florida was a long way from Arizona (and diagonal from Washington) but it was a wonderful opportunity and a chance to experience another part of the nation. I won’t go into the Move From Hell (looking back at blog posts I allude to the horrible move but still won’t go into it since I don’t feel like bring up those memories— they still make me break out in hives) but we embraced Florida for all its quirks.

Thanksgiving of 2008, I flew back to Seattle for a week to see my family and friends. Back in the area and seeing my family, friends, and how much the state had changed since I had visited it a year earlier, I realized how much I truly missed the area. Although I generally hate the cold due to my inability to maintain a reasonable body temperature I was surprised that the cold, ultimately, didn’t drive me as crazy as it used to. The rustic beauty and nature embraced me and I found my heart yearning to return to the northwest. When my parents dropped me off at the airport I was almost in tears over leaving but was excited to see Mack and the animals again.

In December, Mack took a trip to visit his family. He, too, realized how much he missed the area and the northwest way of life. Family is number one important thing for both Mack and myself. Being separated from family cuts us both deep in the heart. After his trip up to see family, Mack and I vaguely talked about moving back to the northwest sometime since “wouldn’t it be wonderful to be around family? What about camping without fear of alligators eating us? That’d be really neat.”

Recently Mack and I sat down and had a heart-to-heart about where we wanted to be and the desire to be close to family. One of my older brothers just recently moved back to the northwest after living on the east coast for fourteen years. His lifelong dream of being an doctor has finally come true (having just finished his residency) and it would be amazing to be around to hear of the highs and lows of that experience? Mack’s brother is now playing pro soccer, kicking ass and taking names as he does so. Wouldn’t it be amazing to go cheer for him from the sidelines? I could go on and on about why we decided this decision but I won’t bore you with all of the reasons and just say that family is number one and we’re so excited to be around them again.

Already this move is shaping up to be 1000x’s better than the move here to Florida. Not to shit on Florida but our move here really sucked (mostly in part to our apartment complex in Phoenix). We have been able to go through our apartment and de-clutter and figure out stuff that we don’t ultimately need. Another is we have picked a moving company a full month before the move and have all our ducks in a row. We’re so excited as we look towards the future and being within the loving embrace of our families and the northwest. As my Mom said in an email to me this week: “Getting excited about you coming back!”

Me too, Mom. Me too. More than words can honestly describe.

Technorati Tags: moving, packing, relocation, cross country move, we are crazy, northwest, The South

Me: Which cat is on my elbow?
Mack: Take a guess.
Me: Brutus.
Mack: Good guess.
Me: It was the soft, feminine fur.

Technorati Tags: cats, pets, cat conversations, diva, convos, relationships

Earlier this week, as I was checking news websites, I came across an article on the Jacksonville news that instantly caught my attention. “No-Kill Shelter Runs Low on Food.” In case you’re new to this website and/or don’t know me that well, I’m a huge lover of animals (especially cats). Clicking the story, my heart broke hearing of how they were running out of food to feed these abandoned animals and they, like everyone, was suffering due to the down economy.

The shelter is worried they might have to start begging for food.

“Our furry friends at the safe animal shelter are crying out for help,” volunteer Lara Hudson said. “It’s been about three or four years since we’ve been down this low.”

[sources: news4jax.com]

After reading the story, I emailed thean called the shelter, asking them if they were open on the 3rd of July since both Mack and I were off from work and would be able to take the hour drive to drop off items we both had and were going to buy. I was heavily encouraged that, when calling, I got a busy signal for an hour.

This morning, we stopped at Target and got about six bags worth of dog and cat food  as well as some bleach for cleaning the kennels, and paper towels. We also have been going through our apartment and de-cluttering and had about forty towels in various sizes that we weren’t using and knew they could. Loading everything up in the car, I was anxious and excited to do a little to help these animals.

Turning down their road, my excitement hit unexpected heights at seeing how busy the shelter was. It overflowed when I noticed it was busy since people, like us, were donating items. One man had a trunk full of about twenty bags of food he was unloading. He stated to the volunteer, “As soon as I read the story I had my daughter stake out Winn Dixie and buy all the bags of food she could!” The shelter workers were so overwhelmed and thankful, tears in their eyes, as they directed Mack and I were to take the food. Stepping into the shelter, almost every surface was covered with bags. Stacked up to my waist there were bags and bags of food, guaranteeing these animals wouldn’t go hungry for a long time. One volunteer at the shelter was at a loss for words from the outpouring of love, support, and caring the community was giving. As she walked back with us to take the towels to the back of the shelter she expressed gratitude and hope. My eyes took in all the food and toys for the animals and, of course, how happy and loved the animals at that shelter are. (Mack and I cooed at the kittens but he kept his hawk eye trained on me to make sure that I didn’t try to get us another cat).

I told Mack, as we pulled away, my eyes full of tears, that my faith in humanity was restored. My heart was so touched (and still is) as the support and love the community is providing. All the food, toys, and supplies that are being donated by people show me the depth of love people have when, sometimes, I feel people don’t give a shit about the animals in need. These animals, luckily, will not go hungry for a long while and for that my faith in humanity is overflowing.

(If you want to donate at all be sure to check out their website, Safe Animal Shelter!)

[tags]animals, animal shelters, shelters, cats, dogs, pets, abandoned pets, animal shelters in need, helping, help, community, giving, giving back]/tags]

A few months ago, my pharmacy and I decided that our relationship had gone past the honeymoon stage and it was time to get difficult. First off, as I have mentioned before, I am really passive when it comes to dealing with people. For example, with telemarketers I  will let them give their sales talk since I know they’re just doing their job and I can just tune them out before telling thempolitely that I’m not interested. People who are giant pains in the asses are just doing their job and trying to make a buck so I’ll be nice to their face and pretend to listen while they try to sell me their kidneys.

I have been on the pill since I was about twenty-years old for various reasons which I won’t go into. I’m sure you have zero interest in my medical history and I don’t want to violate my family’s privacy by talking about our horrible cholesterol due to genetics (wait… oops). Various doctors have changed which one they want me on and, ultimately, they’ve figured out that my body hates the levels of estrogen found in most birth control pills and I have to be on low dosage else BAD STUFF HAPPENS.

I say this so you can look at the title and the previous sentence, and see where I am going with this.

Earlier this year, a weird pattern started between the pharmacy and myself. I would call to refill the prescription and would be informed that, unfortunately, my prescription had needed approved by my doctor so they needed my permission to call his office. Usually this took them about three days to get stuff straightened out and, other then the hassle of having to wait, I didn’t think much of it. My doctors office was still in Phoenix and I did not feel the need to switch it to the actual state I was living in since I really liked my doctor in Phoenix and wasn’t willing to switch doctors yet (and I’m lazy truth be told). I had a doctor’s office I go to here in Florida, however it usually takes me on deaths door to actually visit them. That, and the doctor’s office here in Florida screwed up my insurance claim which made me dislike them to the Nth degree.

On a rainy day (a Florida rainy day which is like buckets of water getting dumped on you) three months after this fun pattern started, I ran across the parking lot to the pharmacy and went inside soaked to the bone. Having not heard from the pharmacy after the latest game of telephone tag between them and my doctor I went up to the counter and asked for my prescription.

“Oh. Well. We don’t have any for you.”

Wha? Confused, I told them I had called it in five days ago. Looking in their system (while being thoroughly put upon that I was making them do their job) they found that my prescription had expired and I had to call the doctors office to straighten it up. Now tell me, honestly, couldn’t they have told me this before I made the trip to the store? Like when they figured out it wouldn’t be filled? After a quick call back to Phoenix I was informed that my prescription had expired and they refused to refill it until I had that wonderful exam of joy and enchantment known as a pap smear.

Gag.

Stuck, I convinced them to refill it for one more month which allowed me a full month to avoid going to the local doctor’s office. This office, too, would not write me a full year until I had a pap smear. After I scheduled an appointment and appeased them, they wrote me a month refill to take the pharmacy to tide me over.

Now, according to my doctor (who was LIVID to the point of screaming in the hallway yesterday when I showed her the changed prescription) pharmacies get a kick back on pushing certain generic pills on consumers. (This is, of course, what my doctor said so if you work at a pharmacy you can enlighten me). I can understand giving me a generic of Type A pill which has the same components as it, however, giving me a generic of Type X which is in no way the same as Type A? Really?

In an article called “Are Generic Drugs as Good as Brand Name Drugs?” it states:

“The FDA requires generic drugs to have the same quality, strength, purity and stability as brand name drugs. One area they may differ in, however, is inactive ingredients. One implication of this variation in ingredients is that you may find you have an allergic reaction to a generic drug that you didn’t have with the brand name drug because they use some dye or filler that wasn’t in the brand name drug.”

While this is talking about going from the drug and its generic counterpart, what frustrates me is that it is not like I was going from Type A pill to its generic counterpart. The pharmacy ignored the prescription written on the refill paper and gave me one with more estrogen and other ingredients that my body does not handle well.

Yeah, hope you enjoy that kick back while I suffer from the effects of switching medications and hit every single side-effect known to this pill. Thanks a lot, pharmacy.

I guess the lesson learned is not to be so passive about this stuff and research and ask questions. I know I should know better since my brother is a doctor and Mack’s Mom is a nurse but still, you’d think you could have faith in your pharmacy. After my doctors appointment yesterday the doctor wrote on my prescription “DO NOT SUBSTITUTE” but it makes me wonder: how many people suffer side effects so pharmacies can get some sort of kick back for offering a completely different generic brand of medication?

Technorati Tags: pharmacies, healthcare, corrupt healthcare system, generic prescriptions, birth control pills, active ingredients, doctors, health, pharmaceutical companies, pharmaceutical sales