Just an HTML test
Now Playing: time zone clock

I am at ease knowing if I want to be poked in unmentionable places I can be guaranteed such at the ER


I wound up in the ER around two am Sunday morning.

I was visiting my empty house in NY when it stuck. Thank goodness because my medical is only viable in NY.

I was having really bad pains in my stomach. It was like hunger pains but a hundred times more intense. I had been nauseous the past two days prior anytime I ate something.

They put me in a ER room but took two and a half hours to even look at me and even longer to take my blood or the cup of my urine that sat on the counter for hours.

Let me tell you that the collection of such a specimen was done in a dirty bathroom with dried up pee on the seat.

I swear that very same congealed pee was there the last time I visited the emergency room.

Finally, back at my room, the a doc comes in and pokes and prods me in every orifice of my body.

Holy crud, if he wanted a sample of my poop I would have graciously shit some on a platter for him, but NOOOOO, he has to acquire it the hard way.

Then a female type exam that made me think he moonlit as a male dominatrix.

Oh and the GYN room was unavailable so they made a makeshift torture device for me to put my butt on: An upside down bedpan with a sheet over it.

I joke around and tell them it was like lying on a rock.

"This must be how they did these exams in prehistoric times" I quip.

The doc had no sense of humor. Or did he think I really believed they had GYN exams back then?

He then goes on to tell me my hospital gown is on backwards as my breast kept popping out.

Is he is concerned for my modesty or embarrassed my by breasts? Either way it does not matter after he went on a archaeological dig into my feminine hollow.

I actually knew it was on backward. I just did not want my tush to show.

I was not so concerned with the fate of my ta tas.

Afterwards, a nurse comes in and plunges an IV into me. Moments later I tell him my whole arm and hand hurts from it.

He pokes my arm and says "OK, I will keep an eye on it"

WTF? He leaves it in. I have to wedge my arm on my balled up sweater just to get comfortable.

Eventually a different doc comes in and tells me they suspected appendicitis.

So I am handed two bucketfuls of some radiative liquid that the nurse likened to flat ginger ale.

I likened it to flat, diluted, cream soda with just a splash of skunk piss.

So with no clock to help me pace my sips within a two hour time frame in which to consume my skunk piss glow-in-the-dark cocktail I made up games.

Person walks pass my door, take a sip.

another person walks pass my door, sip some more

wait wait...person walks pass my door , yet another sip.


OK, how about every time I finish a verse to "Henry The Eighth" take another sip?

Ooh how about when the doc stops talking to my roommate take a sip?

Finally I finish every last horrid drop and I feel victorious. I swear I expected applause, a pat on the back, or at the very least a bronze medal.

I take another trip (my third BTW) to the dried up pee museum. This is after I mentioned the fact the room needed to be clean.

This time some girls were waiting to get in.

I hope they do not think I left that mess there.

Surely they will see it is dried up and therefore proof it was not my tinkle.

Oh, who gives a Sh-t. My stomach hurts, my arm hurts, my orifices hurt. Who cares.

When I return to my room the radiologist comes in and asks me if it had been at least two hours since I started drinking the stuff.

I honestly have no idea.

THERE IS NO CLOCK IN MY ROOM!!!

Soon I am wheeled into radiology where I am greeted by a woman saying "Mrs. Zorbuoski (or whatever)"?

NO, dear G-d, do not mix me up with another patient.

Upon clearing up the identity confusion they tell me I am going to have contrast.

Being the compulsive worry wart I am I, not once but twice, confirmed if I could have the stuff after drinking the other stuff.

I was worried about bad reactions.

I tell the technician that I am prone to panic attacks.

I guess I wanted them to be extra nice to me.

I hate being prone to panic attacks.

So I go in the "ring" and keep my eyes closed.

This is not so bad.

G-d's voice comes to me "Hold your Breath"

What? ? I am not ready..oh crud huuuuuuuuhhhhhhh (that is suppose to be a holding of the breath noise). I hold my breath.

G-d, talks to me again, "breath breath"

I start to think it is not so bad.

I thought they already added the contrast. Not so bad.

I was wrong.

I was told it will make me feel warm.

It made me feel like I was peeing myself.

It was making me feel like I was peeing myself out of a spot one cannot pee out of.

I tried to keep myself calm.

My body felt like it was turning into a deflating blow up doll.

I just prayed to G-d (the real one) that I would get through it.

The Fake G-d tells me to hold my breath again and then breath again.

My body is nuked from my crotch to my neck.

Back into my room to wait the results.

Now mind you it has been almost 11 hours since I first walked in the door.

I was suppose to have packed my stuff an finish laundry and leave for Krapaturdschitz early in the morning.

Nothing goes as planned.

Nothing ever goes as planned.

A different doc comes into my room.

"Well, we do not know what it is so follow up with your primary"

He is gone as quick as a leprechaun.

I am like ?

I AM IN PAIN!!!

I HAVE TO GO BACK TO KRAPATURDSCHITZ!!!!!

What is it then?

Admissions comes in to sign me out.

I was told to take Motrin or Tylenol for the pain.

How could I if I am and my stomach hurts?

Well, Mike takes me home to the empty house in NY and I sleep for a few hours.

He had himself a grand total of one hour of sleep.

Needless to say we get out of the house around five PM and arrive in MA close to midnight.

I spent the next couple of days pissing radiative skunk cocktail out of my butt.

I just know the universe was trying to tell me something
PLANS FOR THE DAY

*Get up early and out the door
*Grab a quicky breakfast
*Drive leisurely to Boston
*Have PLENTY of TIME to take care of Steph's college needs (see counselor on getting loans and fix financial aid mix up)
*HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO STROLL AROUND BOSTON
*HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO VISIT WITH LYNDA,TOM,BOO AND COMPANY
*Be relaxed when we went on the birthday adventure

Yeah right, like that would all fall into place. I mean what could go wrong, right?

"Get up early and out the door
Grab a quicky breakfast"

Well, we woke up pretty early I suppose and went down to the hotel breakfast buffet where I proceeded to stock up on muffins and donuts and oranges to snack on while we strolled about in Boston. I think this may have triggered a karmatic negative chain of events. I also "borrowed" extra napkins.

Lynda calls, the perpetually concerned, well orchastrated sister.

"You want to get going early. You want to beat traffic. Are you sure you can make it?" Lynda asks concered.

Of course we were going to make it. We had plenty of time. PLENTY!! I thought to myself

"I just got to print out the directions and we are off." I reassure her.

But during the printing I run out of black ink right after the first page.

KRAPP! KRAPP! KRAPP!!!!!

Now just before we left to come back to this land of Happy Happy Joy Joy, I said to Mike (who in no way helped me to pack or load up the cars and then complained we got a late start leaving, never mind the fact he spent several hours playing softball),

" I just got to load up these last two (mini plastic) drawers"

"Oh Missy we do not need it. There is no room. Get it next time"

Well, it turned out I did need it. For it contained the precious (prefilled by yours truly) black ink cartridges.

UUUUGH!!!!!!

So, I managed to find two empty black ones in the draw I did have with me mixed in the colored cartridges.

So I scrambled to fill one up and then realized I had filled an Epson Cartridge (my old printer) and not the Canon.

I sucked up what was now left of the now foaming black ink into the ink filling syringe (sorry junkies, ink purposes only) and got ink all over my fingers

UUUUGH!!!!!

I place the semi filled cartridge in the printer but nothing is printing correctly

UUUUUUUGH!!!!!!

I now have to go down to the lobby and pray one of the "community" PCs are available.

The elevator decides to play "possessed by the devil" and flounders up and down between floor 3 (my floor) and floor 4 (the highest it goes).

I think, "now what if this sucker snaps it's cables and crashes to the ground"

I wonder how much I would get in a settlement.

I think about how it would pay for Steph's college and allow me an out from KrappaTurdShitz.

Would I burn in hell for such thoughts? No, just in the elevator. or at the very worse get stuck in a 5x4x7 metal cube that heats up like the Arizona Desert and has the humidity of a steaming cup of mule sweat.

I feel relieved when the doors finally empty on the first floor.

Yay, and a PC is available. So I print out directions and tons of maps in a variety of views.

So we are just a bit off schedule but we will be on our way, very soon.

Back into the lift from Satin's lair then back into the room, I ask Steph to help Brandon get ready as I get dressed....but, but....where the *%#*#@* is my bra?

We...um, I search frantically for the only bra that does not cruelly dig into my shoulders with razor sharp straps. Finally I freak at the kids to please help me look or I was giving up and not going.

I swear I thought I was going to lose my mind.

I mean, not for nothing my "booby trap", as Brandon calls it, is big enough to use as a hammock, FOR TWO!!!. How could it dissapear in such a small place?

Then the little imp of knowledge that lives in my head looked up from it's Game Boy, or whatever it was that distracts it on a regular basis, from doing its job, and says to me "did you look in your back pack?"

WTF? So I did and it was there...Mystery solved...or is it?

So finally we are off and running through the lobby and out the door and into the mini van and I turn the ignition and...nothing, not even a sputter.

My car battery was dead.

Steph's face washed over with a pale look of panic and dissapointment.

"Don't worry Baby, we will get there"

I go back into the lobby and ask if anyone can give me a jump.

Jeff, the new assistant manager, and son to the receptionist at Mike's job (small town coincidence?)offers his assistance.

This kid, yes kid, is sweet and adorable and very polite.

We discuss this and that while waiting to see if my poor Villager can be resurrected.

It must have been at least 101 degrees out there.

Mike said he would come on lunch break to save us if it did not start.

Finally after many futile attempts (and the final one before we were to announced time of death) the ignition finally rumbled into a Beethoven symphany.

I thanked Jeff profusely and called Mike back who wanted me to drive to his job while the van was still running to see if it needed a new battery.

His job is a fifteen to twenty minute ride further from Boston.

But I did not want to take the chance and stall out again.

So over to Middle-Of-Nowhere-Burro for Mike to take a quick glance and say, yeah your OK.

Well he did add more coolant, but by now we were way off schedule.

So off we go again but now I have to stop for gas.

After I swipe my plastic money at the pump I get greeted with a message flashing "card expired" while a shrill beep emulating from it's innards.

So I have no choice but to use the higher interest rated card being it was August 2nd, two days after the other card became invalid.

But why did I not receive a new one?

"Steph, maybe the universe is trying to tell us something. Maybe we should go straight Lynda's and try Boston tomorrow?"

But she wanted to get this over with.

So off to Boston we go.

*Drive leisurely to Boston

In the city we drive around for a half hour searching for the college parking lot. My car starts to make a rattling sound below us. I pray it does not break down in this horrendous heat.

There is a gate thingy and no attendant.

A sign says to press the call box.

We cannot find one.

Steph calls the number given in case of such an event.

"Yes, uh, hum" I hear her say into her cell phone ( I then wondered 'what if a person did not have a cell phone, would they be stranded before the gate forever?), "we are only staying an hour"

Then magically the gate rises. Brandon freaks out wondering how that happened without an attendant in the attendant box.

So in I drive and find visitor parking. Three spaces in which two are reserved for group van parking.

We are group are we not? But I take the regular space but have to actually park halfway onto the group van space or else the kids could not get out of the vehicle due to the fact there was a fence blocking their exit.

So out of the van and Steph is off and running like a cheetah with a mission and Bran is lagging behind about to have a coronary from the heat as most 8 year olds tend to have in their frail old bodies.

And I am in the middle trying to keep up with my daughter without losing my son.

*Have PLENTY of TIME to take care of Steph's college needs (see counselor on getting loans and fix financial aid mix up)

It is about two thirty by now.

In the school we find the financial aid office. As we are walking in the counselors office my cell rings.

It was Lynda.

"I have to call you back" I mumble on the phone as Steph glares at me for taking the call, "I will explain My Story Of What Happened later"

Then we come to find out that woman who is suppose to help us is actually an idiot in disguise.

"You are not on our appointment list"

"No, we were told we should just come in and that we do not need an appointment" (This I was told after trying a gazillion times to actually get a live person on the phone and after telling this actually live person that we were coming in from NY)

So the idiot in disguise types Steph's info and tells us "You are not in the system"

I think at that point she was contently finished with her services to us and expected us to leave.

I tried to explain her coworker, Laura (the actual live person on the phone), found us on the system when I spoke to her yesterday.

"No, look is that your SS#?" She says pointing to the screen. There is nothing here for you"

She once again gave us her blank, "Now you may go away" look again.

"Well, then we want to speak with Laura" who we knew was there because she inadvertently called Steph thirty minutes prior, I guess while returning another one of my frantic phone messages, and the fact she walked in the office and said she knew who we were when we arrived in Idiots office.

The woman would not comply. She was sadistic.

She also had a very thick accent that was hard to decipher.

Steph and I try to explain that FAHSA sent us an email confirming the info was sent to Mass Art.

"Then what do we do?" Steph asks.

The woman shrugs her shoulders.

"You need to bring in a print out of this email."

You think the woman, who's job it is to help get the students in the school, would offer her a pc in which to gather this info.

THE PEOPLE AT THIS SCHOOL ARE NOT HELPFUL!!!

Steph leans over the woman's desk and at her screen and comments "You spelled my name wrong"

And so she did. There was an extra "r" in her last name.

oh.

no apology of course.

Then she says there is no parent signature.

I said I sent in the forms for my electronic signature and got a confirmation.

She asks me if I claimed income in 2005.

I said no. I did not make enough money and became disabled.

"Then how did you pay for things?" She inquired

"Good Question I said matter of factly. "credit cards, lots of credit cards. I also receive $80 a week in child support"

"That does not add up to much", she says writing that tid bit of info down, "Then how did you live?"

"My boyfriend gives us a roof over our head. He is not her father. He never claims us and his income should not be counted."

I also told her our relocation dilemma and how we have to pay out of state tuition and cannot get NY aid if we want to claim residency next year. I explained how Mike had to take this job in MA as there was no work for him in NY. I explained how I am still pending disability. Basically, a quick overview of our crappy circumstances.

"Wow, that is quite an unusual situation"

NO SHIT!!!!

She gathers up the info throws in a grant and a puny student loan and tells us we have to take out another loan but I won't get one on my own with my lack of income but maybe I could co-sign one with my daughter if my credit is good (yeah right, I hardly can pay my bills).

So how is it that no one in this place (and I spoke to the director of the school about two months ago) can come up with a solution or a referral on how to get help for such "unusual circumstances" why? Because they are just lazy or do not give a shit or are holding back on info?

The phone rings in mid-explanation. It is a personal call and she takes it. She leans back in her chair and chats away.

I WANTED TO SCREAM, I WANTED TO GRAB THE PAPER WORK AND STORM OUT THE DOOR AND DEMAND TO SPEAK WITH SOMEONE WHO COULD BEHAVE LIKE A PROFESSIONAL!!!!

The woman picks up the paper work, the very paper work I wanted to snatch up and run off with, and starts fanning herself.

Steph and I look at each other as if we could read each other's minds. "What a pompous asshole" I believe was the phrase sequentially floating in our heads.

Bran starts to make armpit fart sounds in the hall. I decided "fuck it, let him"

Lynda calls back wanting to know what kind of candy we want for the movie.

"Get Bran something gummy" I whisper to her as I step outside the room. Sour gummy if you could, Something sour for Steph. Goobers for me...yes, yes..., got to go....I'll explain My story of What happened later"

I hated having to rush Lynda off. But I did not want to miss a word miss idiot had to say when she finally got back to the back bone of the institution - its student.

In the end when she finally did get off it turns out that we still have to wait again on FAHSA and try to get a loan.

I left feeling empty and aching in my heart for my daughter.

We dropped off some more paper work for her health insurance and student orientation.

We headed back to the car with Steph full throttle and Brandon schlepping behind again.

*HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO STROLL AROUND BOSTON
*HAVE PLENTY OF TIME TO VISIT WITH LYNDA,TOM,BOO AND COMPANY

In the car and already 4 PM we head off on our mission to Natick but stupid Map-quest says to U-turn where no U-turns are allowed but we finally head in the right direction, or so we thought. Oh and my van is still rattling.

I ask a parking lot attendant for directions. Steph calls Lynda.

We get on I-95. It was scary driving through a conglomerate of city highways all twisted and contorted around each other.

Map-quest also did not mention tolls.

Apparently you have to pay to get on and off.

Steph had to call Lynda back several times as we got into Natick.

What a beautiful site it was at we pulled up to her home and saw her standing there. YAY!!!!

After big hugs of happiness we head inside.

She has a cool porch.

She has a really beautiful cool cat.

Lynda is a cool person.

She lends me her baby powder to sprinkle my sweaty fat thighs so they do not chafe together.

And, she is cool about it!!!

"Do you want to hear My Story of What Happened" I ask her then decided to wait for the others so as not to repeat it.

Soon afterwards Donna, Tom S. and the kids pack into the apartment.

Johnny gives Bran one of his Game Boy games. Now how cool is that?!!

I look up at the ceiling and there are, what looks to like jelly insects and a slug hugging the surface.

"oh, Tommy (Boo) likes to toss those up and let them stick."

The kid has an interesting hobby.

"Do you want to hear My Story of What Happened?" I ask them but decide to wait to we meet up with Tom W.

Off we go to meet him at the Rain Forest Cafe....A HALF AN HOUR AWAY!!!!!!

I pry my wretched, overheated, exhausted, frazzled body of the chair and back into my clankaty car.

Tom S. joins us for moral support.

He wants to hear My Story of What Happened. I tell him to wait until we are all together.

We get up to another toll area.

"Go through the quick booth" Tom cries out to me as if all of life depended on it.

I tell him I do not have a pass.

"NO NO GO, it does not matter!!! There was a news story about how they do not go after out of state vehicles. It was a big thing."

Meanwhile, Lynda already passed through with her easy pass.

I take my clackity car and muddle slowly through the regular booth and grab a ticket.

All the way to the next toll Tom is edging me to drive through.

"If they fine you I WILL PAY IT!!!"

Fine Tom, and I will hold you to it.


*Be relaxed when we went on the birthday adventure

So, exhausted, and frazzled and beated by the day I fall to the pressure of my brother-in-law and zoom through what is forbidden for non-speed-pass-peons like me to zoom through.

Mike is going to have a coniption when he gets the notice and a picture of me and Tom breaking the law.

Now could the day get any worse? I thought, surely not.

We get to the mall where the resturaunt is located and the sound of the mall fire alarm blaring through our brains.

But no one is running out screaming.

No one is grabbing hold of their kids for dear life.

There are kiosk cashiers sitting by their post as if this was a normal, everyday, occurrence.

"Oh,dear G-d, please do not allow this torturous sound to pierce the celebration of this evening"

Luckily, the sound effects of the Rain Forest was much louder and muffled that of the fire alarm (which BTW turned out to be a technical problem rather than an actual emergency).

We are seated at a table near a Golden Zeus standing in a real, loud, waterfall.

I cannot tell them My Story of What happened. It is too loud.

The food in the place was incredible!!!!

I had a salad I split with Steph consisting of an entire half head of lettuce still in its half head of lettuce form, tomatoes, glazed pecans, onions, and the most amazing blue cheese dressing EVER which had a slight peppery taste.

Then I dined orgasmically on a breaded fish, veggies with a mango sauce, and a tasty curried rice and OMG...OMG.. AHHHHHHH - YES YES YES!!!!!

I never expected a theme resturaunt to have the best damn food.

To bad it is not close enough to Middle-Of-Nowhere-Burro. Oh, that and the fact it was just to dang loud.

But I guess it had to be loud to drown out the cries of those petrified of clowns.

Yes, clowns.

There was actually a freaking clown walking around the jungle of the "rain forest" making balloon creatures and swords.

Steph said it was really a gorilla disguised as a clown and that the jungle authorities trained him in the art of balloon shapes to support himself.

One of the Tom's went up to the clown and asked if he could go to our table. It seemed as if the clown was drifting away from us. He was told we would have to wait....I guess until Hell freezes over.

Well, Bran was not having any part of the waiting game and marched right over to the clown primate and asked for a sword.

He came back and my sisters looking at him, open jawed and speechless.

Yeah, that is Brandon for ya.

He once cut in line to speak with Santa afew years back.

After such a fabulous meal and THANK YOU- THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR IT - Lynda and Tom, we had a few moments to kill to look in the shop.

I took this moment to call Mike.

He tells me the hotel lost power.

He said I should stay over Lynda's if it gets to late.

But I knew I wanted to get back before the heat of the day attacked us again.

After dinner we go over to the theater.

Waiting on line I said "Do you want to hear My Story of What Happened?" We decided to wait until after the kids got their drinks and we take our seats. But by then I forgot.

Oh and what a fiasco getting seats. There were so many to choose from but The Natick family wanted to sit further from the screen in the center as did Steph. The N.B. family chose closer but off to the side for some twisted voodoo ritual of some sort I suppose and I wanted to sit closer as my eye sight sucks and I like to be perfectly centered in an obsessive compulsive type way.

But Bran started to cry. He wanted to be near Johnny.

So I, in a motherly loving sacrifice, sat us in front of Jacob (which was the closest he was getting to Johnny) and prepared my neck to be facing left of the screen.

The movie starts.

The color was brilliant. The picture perfectly clear.

I never seen a movie like this before!!! Not even in the fancy smancy Island 16 cinemas.

The main character appears on the screan.

"IT'S JOHNNY!!!!" I thought the moment I saw this 3d animated 14 year old who looked just like my nephew, "just older".

I wanted to go over to Johnny and tell him this but I did not know if it would upset him.

Midway in the movie Jacob's candies do a little dance on the floor past our feet.

"Rattle rattle rattle"

I wondered what kind it was.

I offer him some of Bran's gummy bears.

After the show we fuse our group of mini groups back into one big group.

Donna calls out "DIDN'T THE (MAIN) CHARACTER LOOK LIKE JOHNNY?!!!!

LOL, I guess it is unannamous.

Now we have to part.

I cling to my sister Lynda, taking in her essence as if to say so glad we finally hooked up and I will long for you until we meet again.

I guess I will have to write to you My Story of What had Happened?
Then we follow her car back to the highway.

The ride back was not so bad even though my car had a bad crop of gas.

The air had cooled.

Then we were almost creamed at an on ramp that was practically kissing an off ramp.

The speed limit is 65. The guy getting on was doing 20 and cut me off.

I screach on the brakes and hear a thunderous echo of other cars honking their horns.

I promised myself a cup of Chamomile tea to calm my nerves.

Finally we arrive in the town of Brockton where our hotel is located.

I drive pass the intersection where I was suppose to turn left.

I did not see the intersection.

I heard horns honking. WTF?

Turns out the entire neighborhood was in a major blackout.

I had to turn back around but it was so dark and I was unfamiliar with the area.

I finally managed to get us to the hotel.

People were outside talking on their cell phones and to each other, preteens we dancing at the front entrance with rainbow light things they were twirling around.

People were walking all over inside the hotel using the lights to their cell phones to guide the way.

We tried to find the stairs using Steph's cell the stairwell disappeared.

Turns out someone had shut the door to it.

We head up the stairs and I say to Steph that without the cell phone light it would be pitch dark.

I thought I would have a panic attack if that happened.

When we reached our room we had to bang on the door to wake Mike (it was around eleven pm) to let us in as the key card required electricity.

Bran wanted to recharge his Game Boy and became upset when we told him it was not happening.

I also could not go on the computer and write My Story of What had Happened.

Nor could I make myself my calmng cupof Chamomile tea.

So we played "Trapped on a raft in the middle of the ocean with nothing to do but play mokey in the middle with a Winnie-The-Pooh beach ball but do not fall in the water or else you will be eaten by sharks" game for a little while.

Then we tried to sleep.

I woke up a few times gasping for air praying I would not have a panic attack.

No A.C. and the windows only open up three inches.

I think at one point, while I slept, around midnight, the power came back on.

So I wonder if the universe was trying to tell me something?

I am going to write My Story of What had Happened.

***************

*sigh*
i really hate being here

This was literally a pissa of a shitty day
Mood:  crushed out
Topic: Paradise gone rancid
After being constantly disappointed by the lame towns Mike and I have drove monotonously through in search of a house, Michael, my brother so in tuned with my personality, suggested we check out Provincetown.

"It's your kind of place", He told me, "people have easels set up on the beach to paint".

A smidgen of hope flicker in my almost empty soul.

"Oh please let it be no more than a half hour away", I prayed as I typed the name of this paradise into Map Quest.com several days later.

That hope was extinguished upon reading "2 Hours and 14 minutes" on the Map Quest screen.

"Well, I guess I could always torment myself and visit anyway", I thought to myself.

So Mike, Brandon, and I ate the "complimentary" breakfast buffet downstairs in the Hearth Room of the hotel we are staying in.

I could barely choked down a homemade waffle or anything else for that matter due to the fact I had eaten the same stuff consecutively for the past week as well as the last full week I stayed here two weeks prior.

I should of just eaten my usual Honey Bunches of Oats with soy milk. My safe standby.

I went back up to our room to print out the directions and double checked the door to make sure the "no service sign" for the hotel housekeeping staff was not on the outside.

I was looking forward to coming back to clean, crisps sheets.

We head off on our little adventure getting stuck in mini traffic congestion along the way. Mike stopped at one of the many rest areas on our side of the road.

I should have gone as well, but when you don't have to go you just don't have to go, not at least until it is inconvenient. That and the fact I still had a whole can of orange soda to finish.

When we arrived in Provincetown, just a mear one hundred and five miles from where we started, I fell in love almost immediately. Yes, it was just my type of town. The energy, the ambiance all screamed out "MISSY, come join us, never ever leave"

We stopped to take a couple of pictures.


     
Provincetown

I posed behind a painted wood mermaid thingy with it's head cut out and poked mine through. Neither Mike nor Brandon could operate my camera before I lost patience and walked away.

Mike compared the bustling village strip to that of Port Jeff's touristy area.

"A very large Port Jeff that never ends and has much cooler stores" I added.

But we never got to enjoy those stores because suddenly, yes suddenly, I had to pee. Mike had to go as well, so we literally spent the next hour and a half trying to find public accessible bathrooms that did not charge $5 a pop...or should I say poop as was the standard fare for using their toilets and paper if you did not purchase their food.

One bathroom we did find open to the public turned out to be in a daytime pick up joint and was used as an afternoon "love shack". We quickly escorted ourselves and our innocently, oblivious son out of there, forfeiting our turns in occupying them.

Finally we found a place in a mall-like building up a couple of flights of stairs.

I made Brandon pee against his protest that he did not have to go.

He must of peed for a full five minutes. I do not know how he held all that in.

He laughed during the entire process.

I finally took my turn (thank goodness) and met Mike outside. He complained that it was like a sauna in there. I griped about the fart smell left behind by some anonymous woman with a bad stomach.

I may have even left my car keys in there.

By this time we were all starving. As Brandon put it so perfectly "Mom, my pee is out of me and now there is an in my belly"

The same was true for me. So There we were, already exhausted from our bathroom quest, hot from the heat, and now weak from hunger trying to find a place to dine.

A place with air conditioning as per Mike's .

A place with "noodlies" as per Brandon's desire.

A place with a vegetarian option that did not consist of a crappy veggi burger, bean burrito, or a lettuce sandwich.

But where could we find such a place that had all three and was within our puny little budget?

So we trecked on and on passed adorable clothing shops I would never get to look into, passed fudge shops I would never get to sample, and passed novelty shops that I know Steph would love to check out.

Steph would just love Provincetown.

I should of.

I was just to weak from hunger to enjoy it.

Finally we stopped at a take out place (Mike caved in about the A.C.) and ordered:

Mac N Cheese for Brandon

Burger for Mike

Portibello Mushroom with goat cheese and sprouts for me!!!

I was excited until I tasted it - dry dry dry and ever so tasteless.

Mike said his burger was dry as well.

Brandon's "noodlies" were just right and he gobble it all up.

We ate our lunch of desperation on these puny little benches not wide enough to contain half one's butt.

Behind the benches there was window sill molding that stuck out into my back.

I was so unsatisfied from my peasant lunch that we decided to get some gilato.

It was devine but very messy and melted VERY QUICKLY, so we all ate hunched back to keep the imported confection from getting all over us.

Very uncomfortable but we had a nice view of the beach and three hairy men sunbathing below as we sat on a deck.

We then had to get an employee to let us in a bathroom to wash Brandon and ourselves up.

I may have even left my car keys in there.

Afterwards we decided to go back to the hotel. We all had had enough.

What a shame being we only paid $5 for all day parking.

On the way back we stopped in this store along the highway that had all these pool floaties and novelties inside.

I never got to really look around as my baby girl Steph calls me on my cell. After I got off with her the most dreaded thing happened, I had to poop.

So back into the car we go and to the next gas station.

I rush inside as Mike gets ready to pump some gas and ask to use their restrooms.

Guy looks at me crossed eyed and tells me "It's out of order"

"Bullshit" I think loudly in my head as I give him the look of death.

He tells me there is a Wendy's up the road. I guess it was invisible because we were never to find it.

I rush outside and stop Mike before he can swipe his card.

No way in Hell is he going to give them his business if I cannot crap in their bowl.

His thoughts exactly.

My Hero.

So we drive for quite some time watching the gas gage nervously as it to empty and wondered why the heck there are no rest areas on this side of the road, as it was for the other side.

Finally we come to a gas station with a bathroom.

I had to wait for someone to come out but at least she did not leave her rancid vapors behind for me to inhale.

Just as well. I needed room to leave my signature scent for the next poor soul after me.

for me and that next poor soul, there was no soap left. Just one tiny poof of foam was all I got as I frantically pressed on the dispenser.

I left more disgusted than I did relieved.

Thankfully I had some individually packaged wet ones leftover from a buffet in my car.

Maybe things would look up after all?

Maybe we can just get back and I can curl up and hide in nice new, crisp clean sheets and forget this day ever happened (and yet here I am writing about it...hmmmm?) without anymore incidents

But that fantasy was quickly smacked out of my hopeless head as I spotted the "do not service" sign on hour hotel door.

WTF?

"Mike did you put that there"? I asked him

"No" he replied

"Brandon, did you put that there"?

"No Mom, I did not" He defended

I was so sure I had left it on the other side of the door.

So we unlock it and I take a look and sure enough our sign was on the other side.

Some *#*#@*## jerk (probably bored out of their skull teenagers) put it there.

I grab it and stomp to the elevator, pissed at all hell that my crisp, clean sheets were not waiting for me at the end of this crappy day.

I go to the reception desk and bitterly tell the lady what happened, knowing darn well that housekeeping had gone home for the day.

There was nothing they could do.

I left leaving the receptionist staring at the magnet sign in a confused state.

Later we decide to eat at this place Pasta Bene that was very close by.

We waited 20 minutes to avoid sitting at the table right smack in front of the hostess stand.

quick summary:

everything was ala carte so I skipped the salad. They wanted $7 for one.

Mikes dinner tasted like one of my fancy dishes I have made for him on occasion.

But not worth paying for if I could make it myself.

I may have even left my car keys in there.


I hate eating in Krappaterdschitz.

I hate everything about Krappaterdschitz.

Be gone before someone drops a house on you........
Mood:  smelly
Topic: House Hunting "STINKS"
We went looking at houses again, Mike, Brandon, and I, on Thursday.

Another traumatic experience.

Last house we looked at left our brains in cinders.

We had looked at this house, which claimed a puny dining room to be one of the bedrooms, foolishly deciding to check up upstairs anyhow to see if there were better sleeping quarters.

Fortunately Brandon chose to stay safely downstairs in the eat-in-bedroom.

Unfortunately the first door I opened on the second floor was to the bathroom. Within a fraction of a second I caught a glimpse of its nastiness, grungy bear claw tub, and four, yes four, litter boxes.

It was during the middle of that second of time that the stench whopped through our nasal passages like a flash fire.

Oh, it burned, how it burned. Knocked Mike and I right off our feet.

As quickly as the putrid smell of cat piss hit us was as quickly we both dashed back down the stairs, covering our melting faces, calling to our real estate lady "Forget it!!!".

It is so nice when Mike and I connect in harmonic agreement.