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Friday, August 4, 2006

have i mentioned i love Mark Morford?

he writes some funny, funny stuff. and for me, he's funny because he hits all the hot buttons, in a way that makes sense to me. i can see that he wouldn't be all that funny to, say, Dick Cheney. ;)

But this is the amazing thing: Here, again, is hard science running smack into the hot cosmic goo of the mystical. Here, again, is science peering over the edge of understanding and jumping back and saying, "Holy crap."

the man, he is good. :)

:: scribbled at 9:12 AM ... ... o

small minds, big playgrounds.

that's the phrase that keeps echoing for me recently. and is it any surprise that it has to do with insurance and bureaucrats?

so... backstory, hubby has been carrying insurance for us the last few months, because he could do that before i could. given the fact that the job is a 10 month position with 12 month coverage, he had to pony up for the summer on previous pay periods. not bad, and we're happy to have insurance.

fast forward a few months, and now i've got a job with better coverage, so i try to transition us to my company. my company is all happy and good about it. hubby's? not so much.

[intermezzo: we're shifting from one plan to another with the same insurance. and the insurance people assured me that they would be *happy* to repay us the difference while we were double insured.]

and then i go in to talk with the HR Woman From Hell at hubby's day job. here is a woman who is inordinately fond of power, who doesn't like to cut anyone any slack (see point #1), and who detests paperwork. this last is a severe impediment for someone working for government.

despite the fact that i have legal rights to terminate our coverage and switch over, have the legal right to be reimbursed, and have the legal right to discuss this with her on behalf of my spouse - this *incredibly small minded and nasty* woman refuses. she declared, and i'm not making this up, that 'the insurance company has no right to tell me what to do with your insurance money'. *blink* um.... yessssss, yes, they do. as does the federal government.

and at some point, when i saw i wasn't getting any blood out of the stone, i folded. yep. i caved. i caved, i went outside and burst into tears, and then i found a better way to deal with the problem.

since the stone wouldn't move, mohammed did.

i went to my HR person, explained the debacle, and asked her if we had options. after questioning the sanity of the other HR person, my HR woman said 'no problem. do you want it in cash or payroll?'

oh, yeah, baby. my rockin' HR woman made sense out of the problem, and made it all right. because she is sane, and kind, and reasonable.

and if Nasty HR Ho' Number 1 makes any sort of stink about the measly payout she was *willing* to give us? back off, beyatch. because i have your number.

this rant brought to you by the letter I and the number 1.

:: scribbled at 12:43 AM ... ... o

Wednesday, August 2, 2006

hullo. *waves*

'sfunny. whenever something happens to disrupt the rhythm of life at home, i find it hard to come back to writing. some of it, i've written about before: once you're in the groove of writing more or less frequently, it's hard to be jolted out of that, and harder still to get back to that place. and, also, there's the self-imposed 'must catch readers up on what happened' bar to meet.

so. no bar, no quota, no catching up, at least not at the moment. i'm sure i'll write about bits and pieces of the last few weeks as i make sense of them. week long retreat with work, finding new strength in unexpected places, falling apart sometimes - and giving myself the space to do so, MedSm being away for over a week, being apart from hubby for 5 days - the longest stretch since we've been together, ever - and how that felt/resonated... all of that has happened recently. and eventually the stories will land here.

still catching up, with people, and events, and email.

mostly, right now? i wish it weren't so damn hot. when the places you live and work are "more or less" air conditioned, this kind of weather leads to melting. and? no more Mel Gibson. basta, you bastard. nuh'uh, no way. you, like Woody Allen and Garrison Keillor, among many others, are no longer welcome to cross my threshold. (this leads to a whole 'nother rant about Treasure Hunters and the exwife...oh, dang, i'm way too tired to explain, but there is a segue. and a rant. are you surprised? no, i thought not. *g*)

efffhhh. hope all y'all are keeping cooler.

:: scribbled at 12:26 AM ... ... o