>
Anyone who is 50 or older, whether they are working or retired, can join AARP for $16 per year. I know this because they sent me a membership card and requested that I send them my $16 check immediately to activate my exciting benefits as an AARP member.
I will say one thing: I look damn good for someone who is 50 or older.
Tags: Asshole idiots, hilarity, irony, What is wrong with people?
>Yesterday my grandmother finally recovered enough from the sedatives given to her before her angiogram/angioplasty for my mom to tell her what happened. We expected Granny to be upset. My mom assured her that we would find her another doctor.
Upon hearing that her doctor forgot which stents he was supposed to use, my grandmother, apparently, shrugged. “Well, I like him. He doesn’t talk to me like I’m senile or a child.”
My mom was confused. “So do you not want a new doctor.”
“No,” Granny said. “I’m happy with this one.”
While I hope that he does not commit a much bigger fuck up in the future, I’m relieved that she is not upset about what happened. This doctor got lucky. That’s all I’ll say.*
*Except that if he does anything to hurt Granny in the future, I will come after that fucker with everything I’ve got.
>Many of the bad things that are happening in the Senate today take me back to my earliest years in public policy. In the summer of 1995, the country was hotly debating welfare reform. I interned with the child care division of the Department of Public Aid in Illinois, and I followed the discussion closely.
By the time I returned the next summer, the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunities Reconciliation Act (PRWORA) had passed Congress and was signed into law by President Clinton. States wrangled with how they could meet the welfare for work requirements and move people off of public assistance programs as soon as possible. Next door, the governor of Indiana, Evan Bayh, embraced welfare-to-work so wholeheartedly that I was certain that he was a Republican. I’m fairly certain that I even had an argument with Husband about it. I was wrong.
These days, over thirteen years after I first cut my teeth on public policy work, Bayh is still causing me to scratch my head. Evan Bayh is now a pro-choice Democrat in the Senate. Yet he voted for the Nelson/Hatch amendment that would have essentially forbid health insurance plans to cover abortion services. On the flip side, Democratic Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid is anti-choice, but voted against the amendment. What the fuck?
Sen. Reid showed great initiative in explaining his position, finding common ground and recognizing the need for health care reform to be passed. I commend him for taking the time to do the right thing for more people than himself. Sen. Bayh offered no explanation for voting against the women that he has courted for votes. It’s baffling. OK, it’s more than baffling; Sen. Bayh’s lack of courage on this issue is pathetic.
I learned in 1995-1996 that I really couldn’t count on Evan Bayh to make sound decisions when it comes to the health and welfare of women and children. A lot of time has passed since then. The more things change, the more they stay the same. Sigh.
Tags: Asshole idiots, democracy in action, irony, other rants, random, What is wrong with people?
>The air circulation in my new office is not very good. For the two days I’ve been there, I’ve used my special ugly office sweater* in the morning, and sweltered in the afternoon. Weirdly, this was also how it was at the job I left in 2006. I was just cold all the time at other jobs.
The reason I was always cold at my various places of employment is because I am inevitably seated directly under or just to the side of the air condition vent. Today I was pleased to think about how this new job was different in that respect. Then I craned my head all the way back and looked at the ceiling. Yep, I’m under the vent. It’s gonna be a cold summer. (And winter, if like at my other jobs, the building blasts the heat so high that each office runs the air condition to counter balance the inferno. Yeah, energy efficiency at its finest.)
*At every job I’ve ever had, I’ve left a cardigan on the back of my chair in case I get cold. Since the sweater lives at the office, I don’t want to waste a nice one, so I bring the ugliest sweater I own. This job’s ugly office sweater is the one I obtained for free at this summer’s BlogHer conference. Hideous, especially in navy & “Aztec gold.”
>On Wednesday, I went to the Museum of Jewish Heritage, which is a Holocaust and Jewish culture museum, in lower Manhattan to do some research. Upon my emergence from the subway, I looked for a food vendor from whom I could buy a carbonated diet beverage in a bottle. The first cart in my path was a hot dog purveyor. I asked for a bottle of Diet Coke.
“That’s $3,” he said.
“What?” There was a lot of traffic, so I figured that I didn’t hear him. Who on earth would pay $3 for a 16 ounce bottle of pop? Usually, the street vendors sell such drinks for $1.75, or $2 at the most.
“Three dollars,” he nodded.
I was offended. “No, that is ridiculous. I don’t want it.”
He shrugged, as if it were not possible for me to find a better deal. In a huff, I continued toward the museum. A Duane Reade pharmacy loomed. Ah, in the past I have purchased my chemical refreshments there for $1.79 plus tax. I went in. I nearly fell down when I saw the price rose to $1.99. Still, better than the stupid hot dog guy, and I get bonus points on my card, which eventually will get me $5 worth of goods for free.
I paid (and told the cashier about the hot dog vendor – she agreed that he was outrageously overpriced) and went on my merry way. My next obstacle was a police barricade. A metal detector was set up at the opening between gates. What the fuck? I stood for a minute before I noticed a sign routing museum visitors around the labyrinth.
At the museum, I asked the man at the admissions desk what the hubbub was about. “Oh, Ahmadinejad is staying at the hotel across the street.”
“You mean the president of Iran?” I asked like an idiot.
“Yes, him.”
“The one who denies that the Holocaust happened?”
He peered at me above the wire rims of his little round glasses. “Uh huh.”
“He’s staying across the street from the Holocaust museum?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Wow, does he pick it on purpose to poke a stick in your eye?”
“No, he’s actually assigned there by the NYPD. It’s the most isolated hotel, so it is easier to secure.”
I felt slightly better, although it seemed wrong that the man got to enjoy the luxurious accommodations of the Ritz Carlton and not face any of the protesters. The admissions desk guy made a whaddya-gonna-do gesture, sort of like the hot dog vendor. I did my research (which was useless), and on the way out, decided to stop in the gift shop.
The clearance table in the entrance caught my eye. A book called “Letters from My Sister: On Love, Life, and Hair Removal” was on sale for $1. I thought this would be a good use for the dollar I saved from that overpriced hot dog seller. When I brought it to the counter, the shubbly cashier told me that books were two for the price of one.
“But this is only $1,” I noted.
“Yes. I know this. You get another one at the same price or less for free.”
Man, my refusal to overpay for Diet Coke was really turning out to be smart! I got another copy of the book. I figured that my friend would enjoy it. (It turns out that she knew one of the sisters, who directed a documentary about a corset shop on the Lower East Side. I missed it in theaters, and was quite disappointed.)
Anyway, I was very proud of my bargain. Take that, Ahmadinejad. Your absurd lies cannot stop us from telling our stories and saving money.
Tags: Damn, evil, irony, Jewishness
>I called my dad. “Did you get the paper yet?”
“Yes! There’s a color picture of you on the fr-”
“I know!!!! It’s horrible! I can’t believe how bad it is!”
He sighed. “I think you are too hard on yourself.”
“That’s true, but seriously, this is a bad picture. My friend Suebob said that I look as if I had a terrible accident involving my neck.” I cackled. “But now no one is going to want to hire me because they’ll think I have a disability that they’ll have to accommodate! I’m screwed.”
“Well, I’ll always love you.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
And that is the last I will say about this awful picture. It is almost ironic that I am obsessed with how I look in a picture attached to an article about how terrible it is that young girls have to struggle with body image.
*Big nod to Grace Paley, whose essay of the same title we read in lit class last year. My lit prof thought it didn’t work, but I adore anything Paley wrote. If she wrote a limerick on the back of a cocktail napkin, I’d find it brilliant.
Tags: (undeserved) self-pity, hilarity, I'm Famous (Not), irony, mortification, nerds, shameless self-promotion
>Until this morning, I struggled to understand why so many (white) Americans are seething about the plan to offer health care benefits to all Americans. I thought about a photo, showing an older white man screaming at Sen. Arlen Specter (who looked like he just ate something that left a very bad taste in his mouth, which cracked me up, but that’s another point) that ran last week on the cover of The New York Times. The enraged man shouted, “One day, God is going to stand before you and he’s going to judge you!”
This morning, however, when I looked at a NYT headline that announced that the public option would likely be dropped from whatever plan passes, Maurice (the hamster who runs on the wheel that powers my brain), dropped the seed he was eating and jumped on his wheel. Really, is not America founded on the idea that some people have rights, and they will protect those rights and do everything they can to prevent others from obtaining them? Those self-righteous colonists, shouting at King George, were essentially the same angry white men who then turned around and made sure that women, people of color, and white men without property could not vote or hold public office. In addition, a good portion of the public could not go to school, work in certain fields, marry who they pleased, observe their religion without being harassed, or in the most extreme cases, be considered human beings. They said Jews could not serve in the Continental Army (although they were happy to get Jewish money to pay for it, while insisting that Jews were unpatriotic for not serving in the army). Etc, etc.
The real problem with America is that it is utterly un-American to believe that all people are equal. When people fight to preserve a system that benefits only a few at the expense of others, they are upholding the true American way. There may be better opportunity here for people than in many other places in the world, but really, that’s just saying how truly awful many places in the world are. And how wonderful it is that there are so many un-American Americans who want to extend rights and freedoms to all.
Tags: Asshole idiots, epiphanies, evil, irony, other rants, What is wrong with people?
>During the last presidential election, Husband regularly received mailings from the McCain campaign requesting donations. (He regularly gives to Democratic candidates around the country.) After the election, issues of The National Review mysteriously appeared every month in our mailbox. On Friday, when I retrieved our mail, I discovered the scariest sacrilege yet: an envelope depicting black cloaked priests lying face down in the aisle of a crowded church, next to a picture of priests holding a “Dominicans Friars for Life” banner at a march. In the upper left corner, the envelope read, “God is calling new men to the battle. And the Dominicans are answering – again. (Battle plan enclosed.)”
Inside, a six page letter read:
Dear fellow Catholic:About 800 years ago, a poisonous heresy arose in southern France. Left unchecked, it could have threatened the very existence of the human race.
Its adherents saw the human body as a prison for the soul, and thus adopted an anti-life philosophy. They forbade procreation, applauded divorce, and openly encouraged suicide.
The Church called these beliefs Albigensianism.
Seeking good men to fight the Albigensian heresy, Pope Honorious III approved the founding of the Order of Preachers, better known as the Dominicans.
St. Dominic and his preachers rose to the Pope’s challenge, using Truth to blot out heresy. They did their job so well that, nowadays, you’ll never meet an Albigensian.
I interrupt this letter for a moment to point out that we would never meet an Albigensian regardless of the Dominicans because they all would have killed themselves or died through lack of reproduction. Also, Husband is not a “fellow Catholic,” so “God” is apparently not very good at dictating “Truth” in mailing lists. But back to the scariness:
Today, the Dominicans are rising again – to defend Christian morality against an attack that is even more widespread, vicious, and uncompromising.
Yeah, that first part of the sentence scares the fucking shit out of me.
What is this latest, most ferocious attack on Christian truth and morality? Pope Benedict XVI calls it the Dictatorship of Relativism. Relativism is the “universal heresy” because it dissolves all truth and eliminates all categories of good and evil. This deranges the mind and morals of modern man to a dangerous – indeed frightening – degree.Fore example, relativism not only dictates that abortion is merely a personal choice, but also dictates that the government muse guarantee the “right” to this choice… Relativism can also cause people to take a good thing – such as holy matrimony – and tamper with its very definition to fulfill their own selfish purposes.
Right. I forgot that love is selfish. Of course, I also think that abortion is “merely a personal choice,” and my people killed Jesus according to this institution’s “Truth,” so what do I know? I’ll cite one more line:
Relativism is profoundly irrational – anything that denies objective truth denies reason.
Am I the only one whose eyes are bleeding? That is the most fucked up twisted “logic” I’ve read since Husband’s free issues of The New Republic stopped arriving last month.
But on a serious note, the remaining four pages of this toilet paper screed boast about the increase in enrollments at their vocational school, and how their latest crop of 54 trainees are going to stamp out my irrational belief in religious freedom and my vile heresy against the One Truest True Truth. It is pretty damn terrifying to think about these people and what they would do to me in order to “save” me. Shudder.
Ironically, I also pulled out a receipt for a donation I made in late May (right before Dr. Tiller was killed by a psychopath who believed he had to stop abortion) to the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice. I very well might send them more money. Because now I’ve seen the enemy’s battle plan – the Truth – and it is chilling.
Tags: Asshole idiots, Damn, evil, fuck, irony, Jewishness, other rants, random, What is wrong with people?
>Here’s an excerpt from a post I wrote for BlogHer* on Tuesday about couples and yearly check ups:
I don’t have a primary care physician. Instead, I have in my contacts list** (in alphabetical order) an:
-Allergist (2-3 visits yearly)
-Breast surgeon (2 visits yearly)
-Dentist (2 visits yearly)
-Dermatologist (as needed, but usually once every four or five years)
-Gastrointerologist (as needed, which hasn’t been for over a year, but at one point was once a month)
-Gynecologist (1 visit yearly)
-Ophthalmologist (1 visit yearly)
-Podiatrist (only used once, after I stepped on a sea urchin in Hawaii)
-Reproductive endocrinologist (2 appointments to determine whether I had PCOS, but I keep the name just in case, sort of like the podiatrist)
With all my various parts cared for, who needs an internist? For the first time in four years, I visited a primary care doctor back in August, but only because some forms filled out to enroll in school. That is when I discovered that my “regular” doctor left the practice at least two years ago. Ooops. The new doctor managed to screw up my vaccine schedule, which makes me less inclined to return for care. Whenever I need a new doctor for any of my organs, I usually can just turn to friends for advice. (If I count my doctor friends, I also have two pediatricians, another dentist, another OB-GYN, another breast surgeon, and multiple colo-rectal surgeons in my contacts list. Plus one primary care physician who I would never trust, but that’s another story.)
Probably it would be good to have a primary care doctor to coordinate all my files and keep track of what is going on with me and my team of specialists. Ironically, though, I hate doctors. The thought of adding one more doctor whose job it is to just follow along seems like such a waste of time. I have good cholesterol, my blood pressure is nice and low, and my sodium is a-OK. My weight is healthy for my frame, and I don’t smoke, do drugs, or drink. I am the picture of good health, except for all of the specialized health problems that I have…
*And thank you, Zandria, for being the sole comment on that post! 
*Also, I could use a good therapist to deal with my stress and frustration levels, if anyone in New York City has a recommendation… Anyone?
>My goal was to attend an MFA program to better understand the craft behind writing a book, then to write a hilarious account of the horrors and indignities that I suffered through during puberty. My writing sample (or portfolio or whatever the fuck they call it) was an uproarious account of my first bra shopping experience and adjusting to having boobs. This culminated in the absurd experience of a breast reduction at the age of 22. I had a whole draft chapter on my first period and then what happened when I stopped getting it at all at age 17. Funny shit.
The problem is that as I’ve been studying literature, I find myself writing not so funny stories about the Holocaust and my family, the prejudiced community in which I was raised, and how direct and indirect discrimination impacted my decision to pursue a career in social justice. Sure, sometimes I am able to throw in a good joke about my bubbe’s tuchus (that’s butt in Yiddish), as my grandfather used a wicked sense of humor to deflect the pain of losing his family in the Holocaust (a tactic I also employ when I talk about subjects that are difficult for me, even if I can’t compare what he experienced to anything I did), but I’m finding myself scribbling all sorts of serious little stories. It’s both cathartic and distressing to explore these topics.
I hope that as I progress and develop my voice, I can strike a balance between the serious and the hilarious. Writing. Harumph….
Tags: epiphanies, irony, school, writing
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Name: Suzanne Reisman
Location: New York, NY
I'm a misanthropic humanist. While I'm a do-gooder by training and profession, I sort of also loathe people. Now I write, too.
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