@Lymed: I know. I was just trying to be like "and then..." but failed. Because I haven't had enough coffee yet.

@Lymed: It was endometriosis. And — imagine that — treatable with birth control! Easily obtained on the cheap at Planned Parenthood, since my husband's policy didn't cover the pill.

@Scoregasm: Most of them. My parents' company is trying to deny coverage of my mother's antipsychotics, and didn't pay for my father's last round of skin cancer treatment because he had his first malignant melanoma removed 30 years ago.

I was turned down for independent health insurance (that I would have not really been able to afford) for a "pre-existing condition" listed on my application.

@charlotte corday: Every time I crack open a bottle of cheap red, the folks at Nordstrom cheer.

Happiness takes work.

I just read the Jon Stewart quote back to the husband and he spit-take'd his coffee.

There have been a spate of break ups in my friends' relationships, and I'm concerned because it's following a pattern:

The worst? The absolute worst?

Books on iPod. Frees up the hands for knitting.

@hellonos: Hell, that's what it's like for me every day, and the only thing I have to contend with are two blonde bitches who snark about my shoes.

A middle school pal of mine found "love" with one of her parents' skeevy friends. He was in his thirties, she was 13.

I think this reaffirms my Mythbusters habit.

@Magister: I went at 1:30. The guy I knew from my college dem days told me that people were queuing up from 10:30 a.m. on.

@peliroja: Fifth generation right here, and you'd better believe I gave the husband the look of death when he suggested moving to Texas.

@Magister: I looked long and hard at Richardson's name on my ballot and just about cried.

Sometimes I just want to run up to Santa Fe, storm the roundhouse and declare New Mexico seceded from the union.

I heart Bill Richardson. Anyone who laughs when I drop the F-bomb inadvertently is awesome.

I loved the Naomi Campbell/Lizard Thriller thing. It was so freaking random. Supermodel. Dancing lizards. Michael Jackson dancing.

I want to know who's been looking at what anuses — because telling me mine should appear "more youthful" actually tells me you are a child molester.