Delve into my Psyche!

This will explain everything to you.

Kitty Found!

First, I want to thank everyone who left encouraging comments. Sometimes I feel silly being attached to a cat, which is such a by-product of me being a spoiled and affluent (by most of the world's standards) person with enough wealth to feed a completely useless animal just because it makes me happy. But still, I don't have babies, so I have kitties instead.

But just like you can empathize, I fully believe God also empathizes with our little pains. There are a lot of important things God's working on, like the salvation of all our souls, but he still takes time to comfort a child over a simple loss. And even better, sometimes he evens answers those simple prayers.

Last night Taylor and I were sitting on the couch and talking after we posted "missing" ads on craigslist and leaving messages with the local shelters. We wondered about how God asks us to be joyful in all circumstances, and what that means for us. If Austin really disappeared, were we to rejoice over that? Or perhaps, knowing that God also says that he works all things for the good of those who love him, rejoice knowing that even if we never discover how or why, God will take tragedies and make something wonderful from them for his purposes.

As we sat musing, we heard a knock on our door. We looked at each in anticipation. We weren't expecting company, so there was no reason for someone to be there, unless ... I opened the door and there was our neighbor, who said "You guys left the interior light on in you car."

Not quite what we were hoping for. I thanked the guy, and left to go turn off the light. And as I was walking back, there I saw a little black furry thing scurry from out under the backstairs of my apartment. I ran up to it, and sure enough, it was Austin! If that guy hadn't warned us about the light, I wouldn't have seen him. But here's the oddest thing yet! The passenger side door of the car hadn't been shut properly, which is why the light was on. But the door had been frozen shut from the ice, and neither Taylor nor I remember opening it that day.

Coincidence, a secularist would say yeah. But for me, I think it was God showing kindness to someone he loves.

Welcome home Austin.

Missing Kitty!

Okay, so I may be jumping the gun a little bit, but I think Austin, my cat, is dead. I let him and his brother outside to play this morning, and only Healey came back. I spent half and hour walking around the parking lot of my building and the buildings next doors calling for Austin, but no sign. I tried following his footprints, but I'm no tracker, and I think he must have powers of teleportation I never knew about because many of the tracks just seemed to end in the middle of my front yard. I've been peeking my head out the door a couples times an hour calling him, but no response. I'm feeling really anxious and sad. I am ridicualously attached to that cat. I adopted him when he was just a puny runt, and nursed him into the obese and adorable cat that he is. Or was. I just can't understand where he could have gone or why he would be gone for so long unless something bad has happened to him. Hopefully, I'll be laughing at this dramatic post tomorrow, but until then I'll keep waiting and try to constrain myself from calling the police.

Snowy Valentine's

So the night before Valentine's Day, Taylor and I, along with our friends the Williams, went to P.F. Chang's for the occasion. We did this on the 13th because that 14th was completely booked, and it turned out to be quite fortuitous that we celebrated a day early.

The weather has been quite cool for a couple weeks now, but the long awaited snow finally arrived yesterday on the 14th. Well, you could call it snow, or you could call it gross, wet slushy stuff, which I think is more accurate of a description. After the gross, slushy stuff came ice pellets that somehow defied physics and managed to fly vertically into my eyes. It was in this treacherous conditions that my car decided it was ready to have its first flat.

I understand that there's a first time for everything, but not when you're parked in a six-inch deep puddle.

But I was okay, because my friend Austin was there to my rescue. While he's normally a bit of a ne're do well, he sprung into action and got me some Fix-a-Flat, filled my tire, and then followed me home to make sure I got there safely. I promised myself I would never let his dad say anything bad about him again.

Even though having a flat tire is really annoying, when I think about all the other things that could have happened, I know that I am blessed. After all, the roads were coated in ice yesterday (and today, come to think of it) and if my car got a flat on my way home, I could have spun out in the middle of a busy street to my fiery doom. Or in less dramatic scenario, I could have gotten a flat and ended up stuck in the sleet on the side of busy road, waiting 45 minutes for a Triple A tow truck that will inevitably arrive an hour late. If we haven't eaten our romantic dinner the night before, we would have missed out on a Valentine's date.

And now today is a beautiful day with bright sun and crisp air. So all in all, I have to say I have it pretty good.

The Goatman

Back in highschool I thought it would be fun to create my own urban myth. I clearly wasn't very good at it, because this story about Camp Goddard is what resulted instead. Recently a friend asked me to remind her of the tale, and since I took all the trouble to write it down for her, I thought I'd share it with the rest of the world. Plus, it saves me from having to write a real entry. Enjoy!

*****

Some 30 or so years ago in the hills near Camp Goddard existed a secret science lab that specialized in genetics. But all the years of researching slowly caused the scientists to go mad, and in a dastardly experiment they created the ultimate abomination ... the goatman. Well, he was really a goatboy at the time, but you get my drift. The sight of the hideous creature they created caused many of the scientists to regain their sanity, and, stunned and shamed by their own creation, they sent the poor goatboy out into the hills near Camp Goddard to fend for himself.

No doubt the goatboy would have perished out in the cold, had not a herd of wild mountain goats came upon him. Being kindly creatures, they adopted him into their herd and raised him. The goatman was very happy, and he loved to tromp the hills near Camp Goddard with his family. Until one tragic day ...

The goat herd decided it was that time of year where they had to go to the grassy side of Goddard, and in order to do so they had to cross a major four lane highway. Now, this highway had just been recently expanded from a two lane to its present state, so while the goats were used to crossing the road, they had yet to experience the rigors of multi-lane traffic. They told the goatman to wait last, since he had never crossed asphalt before, and one by one they started to cross. The bloodshed was indescribable, but I'll try my best. Four semis, two SUVs, three sports cars and a minivan, all traveling well over the speed limit, took out the goatman's entire goat family. Staring in horror at the carnage before him, the goatman raised his cloven fist to the sky and swore revenge upon all fast-moving vehicle, in particular minivans, which had caused the most destruction.

After that, the goatman roamed the hills of Goddard looking for stranded vehicles upon which to take his revenge. Any poor traveler who found himself stranded would be immediately attacked by the goatman, who would jump on their cars and create a numerous amount of golf-ball sized dents in their hoods and roofs (the worse part for the traveler was later trying to prove to his insurance that he had be attacked by a goatman and wasn't just a poor swing with a golf club.)

Life continued this way for many years for the goatman, until one day he came upon a minivan broken down on the side of the road. Readying himself to jump on the hood, the goatman looked inside the vehicle and made eye-contact with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It was a bearded-woman. She had fled from a nearby circus after being spurned by the two-headed man, who said she was just too freaky-looking for him. The goatman was so taken by her that instead of attacking her, he offered to take her to the nearest gas station so she could call Triple A. While waiting the standard forty-five minutes for the tow truck to come, the bearded lady and the goatman sat outside the gas station eating hot dogs and discussing life. By the time the tow truck arrived an hour late, all he found was an abandoned minivan, for the goatman and the bearded lady decided to run off together and get married.

And once again, the goatman was happy, tromping around the hills of Camp Goddard with his beloved. But little did they know that tragedy was to strike again ...

The bearded lady was convinced that the goatman needed to face his fear of the four lane highway, so after much persuasion, they went to the highway together. It was midnight, and the air was still. She began to cross the highway, reassuring the goatman that everything would be all right, when they suddenly heard the sound of a roaring engine. It was a tour bus for the Backstreet Boys. The bearded lady tried to run, but the bus managed to clip her and she fell to the ground. The goatman watched in horror as she struggled to rise to her feet, only to be trampled by the hoard of screaming fanatic groupies who where chasing the tour bus. No one could have survived such an onslaught. Tears brimming in his eyes, the goatman once again swore revenge upon all fast moving vehicles AND boy bands. He ran into the woods, and he has been living there ever since.

So if you are ever alone in the wood near Camp Goddard, don't sing "God must have spent a little more time on you," don't sing "Bye, Bye, Bye" for it could be the last song you sing, for you will be hit by THE GOATMAN. Muah ha ha ha ha ha HA HA HA HA!

O Canada!

So, we made it back from our Niagara vacation and managed not to slide off an icy road into oblivion. Instead, we got to be cheated at every turn by friendly Canadians who made up for the currency value differences by charging twice what every item is really worth. Seriously. I paid nearly $10.00 for a pack of single blade razors, also know nick sticks.

But we knew what we were getting into. After all, when it lost it's status of the honeymoon capital of the world Niagara worked to become the number one tourist trap in the world. The center of town, known as Clifton Hill, is so packed with touristy entertainment that I felt like I stepped into ToonLand at Disney.

We didn't just spend ten dollars a pop for rides and exhibits at Clifton Hill. We were also sophisticated enough to tour several wineries and sample some of Canada's famous ice wine. If you think you don't like wine, you've obviously never had ice wine. It's so sweet and syrupy, it's like drinking fruit juice (imagine that - fermented fruit juice tasting like fruit juice). This is no Welches juice however, as is indicated by the $60 to $100 dollar price tag. I could explain to you the process of ice wine, but that's what wikipedia is for. A little word to the wise - when wine sampling, be sure to eat before you sample. It's amazing how ten one ounce samples of wine can really catch up to you.

All in all, it was a great trip. The best part was just being able to be with my favorite person, Taylor, for longer than four hours at a time. It was a time for us to reconnect, be close, and have pillow fights on a king size bed.

Those interested in viewing slides of the gorgeous Niagara falls and the two gorgeous people (ahem, that would be Taylor and me), you can click here.

Where to Go to Escape Winter in Boston? Niagara Falls!

Most couples in the North would plan their winter vacation somewhere warm, like Florida, Bermuda, or somewhere below the Ecuador. Not the Plotts, however. Not for us a week basking on the beach, escaping from the Boston Cold. We're going to Niagara Falls, baby, and we say bring it on!

Not that it's been all that cold up here anyway. It seems like the average temperature has been around 50 degrees ("And they say there's no global warming!" "Yes, thank you, Bob"), so we have yet to experience the bone-chilling, teeth-rattling cold that these Northerners like to boast about ( Actually, Taylor experienced that last year, in March, when he drove down 93 in a blizzard, but I was blissfully away at home planning our upcoming wedding. ).

However, a cold front is coming through this weekend, which happens to perfectly correspond with our vacation from Cold, MA to Even Colder, NY. Fortunately, I prepared by spending too much money on knee high boots and cardigan sweaters. They may not completely practical for icy weather, but when they find my frozen body come spring, at least I'll be nicely dressed.

This will be my and Taylor's first vacation together at a couple. We each have prepared in our different ways. Taylor spent hours on the Internet planning the perfect itinerary to make sure we made the most of every opportunity of enjoying ourselves. I prepared by spending hours on the Internet buying clothes. What can I say? I also like to make the most of every opportunity ... Okay, so I'm weak.

So stay posted friends, for the next installment of the Plott's Niagara Adventure! Trust, barrels will be involved somehow.

Is there a such thing as privacy anymore?

After I post a picture of my license, my friend Taylor W. kindly emailed me and advised me to blur out my personal information "just in case." Which was really good advice, since as so many highschoolers who have posted their drunken orgy pictures on MySpace have discovered, the internet is a public place. Not that I was really concerned, because I know only one person reads this blog, and that would be Taylor W., and he's not taking over my identity any time soon. Although, if I notice that I've been purchasing a bunch of Settlers of Catan expansion packs lately then I might have to look into it our friendship.

But really, is there such a thing as privacy anymore (You can tell I was leading up to this because of the title of my posting!)? Someone could easily look up my name in the yellowpages, or Google me, or just check any of the many forms that ask for a social security number to access information about me. Gone are the days when someone could set out West, stake a claim and isolate themselves from the world. And if you do, you're likely to get tagged as the next Unibomber. It seems like the concept of privacy is more in our minds than actually in our lives. I mean, the very fact that I'm keeping an online diary illustrates my point. So, gentle readers, please don't go stealing my identity or anything. It would really put a damper on my day.

So I'm a licensed real estate agent now ... that's doesn't mean I'm rich.

I successfully passed the Massachusetts state exam and earned my real estate license. I also managed to pass the first time around, which is a big accomplishment, as I am the only one in my office to have done so.

"Wow Meghan, you are so awesome!"

I know, thanks.

I have to admit, this whole real estate agent thing is turning out a little differently than I thought. Being a commissioned employee who sets her own schedule, I pictured a life of ease showing clients apartments in the afternoon and leaving around the office around 4:00, returning home and cooking and cleaning the house, thus becoming the perfect working wife. Well, if "perfect working wife" means not leaving the office until after 6:30, not cooking and not cleaning, then I'm doing really well right now.

Perhaps it was my naivete, but I honestly didn't consider the fact that the clients I would be working with would have jobs. And most people with jobs don't get out of work until 6:00. Of course, I could try to target people without jobs, but they tend to not have a little thing called money, which I hear is pretty important if you want to do things like eat and live in an apartment.

The good news is that I'm genuinely enjoying myself. The even better news is that I'm genuinely enjoying myself out of the pharmacy. Yes, it's true! I have left the Dismal Pharmacy Job! Let me tell you, quiting a job like that is so freeing. First of all, because I wouldn't be working for practically minimum wage until 8:00 at night, and second of all because I got to spend my last week telling customers what I really thought of them. After all, it's not like I was going to get fired.

Me: "You know sir, I would be able to get your prescription faster if you would stop coming up to me every five minutes and asking if it is finished yet."

Me: "Yes, I am quiting. Why? As a matter of fact, you're a big reason!"

However, I'm starting to have a sinking feeling that the same people who got their prescriptions at Brook's pharmacy are the same ones who call me asking if I have any two-bedroom apartments available for under $900 that will take their "small" 60 pound dog. Oh, and by the way, they're in between jobs right now and their credit score is "okay." Why won't these people leave me alone? I must give out some sort of pheromone.

For instance, I'm writing this blog posting because I had a 5:30 appointment that just called me and asked if she could move our meeting up to 6:30.

Her: "You don't mind, right?"

Me: "Of course not. It's not like I have a life to get to anytime soon or anything like that. Afterall, I keep a blog."

Hopefully my new schedule will allow many more opportunities for me to allow my wit to run long. 'Til next time, laugh with me at my real estate license picture!

Um, yeah, they used a web camera to take my picutre. I swear I'm not that squatty.

Reflections on Election

Okay, I feel the need to get this out now, because if I don't, way into the future my enemies will discover this tidbit about my life and raise it up as an example of my hypocraisy or evilness or whatever (By the way, I don't really believe I have enemies, I'm not crazy, just silly). *Deep breath* I didn't vote this year! Whew, glad to get that off my chest.

In order to better understand why I didn't vote, you might want to refer back my post about the excellent level of service at the RMV. You may think me cowardly, but I have yet to go back and try again to get my license, and at the same time, register to vote.

Now, I knew that the elections were coming up, and that I really ought to get around to getting registered so I could do my civic duty in my new town, but I really didn't care. This may sound like an excuse, but I didn't feel qualified to vote for governor, because I hadn't lived under the previous one, so don't really know her record of service, and don't really know what issues would affect my community most. Plus, I am far more interested in national politics than local ones, and Taylor ended up being the one to follow the governor's election.

I know, I know. The election was for the Senate and the House as well, but come on, do you really think Ted Kennedy and John Kerry wouldn't win? I didn't even see either one attempt to campaign.

I wasn't very happy the Democrats took the House and nearly took the Senate. But now they have a chance to do whatever it is they're gonna do (they are so vague on the whole national security thing. All I've heard is "We'll do it better than Bush!") and at work I'll finally be on offense instead of defense. Now I can be the one to complain about the eneptness of the current Congress! So you see, good can come from all things.

Football Party of Two

The Pats vs. The Colts

Tonight's game with the Patriots and the Colts is creating quite a buzz around here. Now, I'm not much of a football fan, but even I plan to tune in tonight for two very good reasons: Tom Brady and Payton Manning. The NFL has been hyping the clash of these two quarterback titans, and I thought I'd add my two cents based on my unique qualifications as a girl.

This is Tom Brady. Now, Tom is an all around good-looking guy. So good-looking, in fact, that even men will admit that he's attractive. Now if there's one thing I can say about football, it is that it, er, accentuates most men's physical attributes in a postive way.

However, Tom does come off across like a total player, meaning that as fun as he is to watch on T.V., he definately isn't relationship material. But since my only contact with him will be through television, I can work around that.

Now, here's a boy I would be more than happy to take home to Mama.


Payton Manning may not be move-star hot, but he is the essence of cutie-patootie! Payton exudes good old fashioned southern charm with a great sense of humor. Plus, he's sweet to his mama, and you know what they say: boys who are good to their mamas are good to their wives. Not that that really matters either, because once again, this is strictly a one-sided relationship.

I can't really think of anything negative to say about Payton. I'd really like to believe he's a wholesome as he appears, but my cynical side says he's probably just as big a player as Tom Brady, he just doesn't dress as sexy. But he has great commercials!

I'm sure there are some points I've missed about both men, like their abilities as players, but I think my analysis pretty much sums up what's most important. So who do I want to win in the big game? Who cares? When it comes to attractive football stars, both are winners in my book.

This and That

It's been a while ...
So it has been far too long since I've written anything here lately. As you may remember, I started this here blog with the ambitious intention of writing every day so I could better develop my skills as a writer. Well, there's a reason writers are stereotyped as anti-social recluses who live in remote cabins on the mountains drinking too much brandy ( "Um, Meghan, I've never heard of that stereotype." "Shut up and just go with it!"). For normal people like me, life gets in the way. There, now you've heard my justification for my poor time-management skills. Moving on.

Boston in the Fall
I'm now experiencing the much-heralded "Boston in the fall." Actually, I'm experiencing Quincy in the fall, and I'm enjoying it immensely. The leaves are not only the brilliant shades of gold, red, orange and purple on the trees, but they stay that way when they fall on the ground. The leaves in Texas were always brown and icky when they fall on the ground, so this is a nice change. The not-so-nice change is the chilly weather. I think it's finally dawning on me that it gets cold in this state. Really cold. Like, wear-four-layers-of-clothing-and-then-a-goose-down-jacket cold. And it's still only autumn here. I don't know what I'm going to do when it snows ("Be cold." "Oh thanks.").

Hard Questions, No Easy Answers
I recently read an article by Sam Harris of the Huffington Post entitled There is No God (And You Know It).

"Oh," I thought, "This looks like a cheery read!"

In his article Harris makes the claim that atheists are the ones who are truly in touch with reality and therefore are the only people who can truly empathize the frailty of the human condition.

He also addresses the age-old question of how can a good God allow bad things to happen?

"But how else can we understand the claim that God is both omniscient and omnipotent? There is no other way, and it is time for sane human beings to own up to this. This is the age-old problem of theodicy, of course, and we should consider it solved. If God exists, either He can do nothing to stop the most egregious calamities, or He does not care to. God, therefore, is either impotent or evil."

I believe Harris fails to consider a third option, which is that God is both good and all-powerful, but he chooses to restrain his power and allow his creation to exercise their own free-will.

First of all, how many times has God averted a disaster and we never knew about it? I remember a couple years ago back in college when I learned that an asteroid almost hit the earth with the potential to cause a lot of destruction. However, the asteroid did not hit the earth, but I didn't hear anyone give God credit for changing the trajectory of the asteroid, rather it was a lucky break.

Then Katrina hits. And that's when God gets the "credit." Does that seem a little unfair to you? If Katrina can be used as evidence against God, can a near-miss with an asteroid be used as evidence for God?

The problems is Harris doesn't really want a God who would actively work to avert tragedies. He uses an example of a child molester kidnapping a little girl as an example of things God allows to happen, which brings up an excellent point that most human suffering is caused by other humans. This is where free-will comes into play. God allows people to pretty much do whatever they want here on earth. Of course, you can argue that God's a big meanie because he punishes people for that in the afterlife, however, that's a digression. For the time being, you can be as nice or nasty as you want. Now, would if God did intervene, and every time someone told a lie God caused them to have a pang in their foot?

"No, honey, of course you don't look fat." Ouch!

Maybe God could cause people to temporarily go blind if they look at someone lustfully, or to become paralyzed when they try to hurt someone. Wouldn't that be effective in preventing people from doing bad things? But I think Harris would complain that a God like that would also be bad because he would be constantly interfering with people's lives. Well , maybe God should take away our evil desires and then we wouldn't have that problem. But then, wouldn't we just be robots following God without thought? Isn't it our ability to think and reason and choose between what is right and what is wrong that makes us human? Isn't God showing a severe mercy in restraining his power and allowing us to live as we will, for good or ill?

There are no easy answers to why God spares some people and not others. Why does the rain fall on the both the righteous and the unrighteous? Why does God say "I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion."? Paul even addresses this in Romans 9.

Even though an atheist might not like this answer, when it comes down to it, God's ways are not our ways. God only knows what he has planned for us in this world. Our responsibility is to take what small portion of life we've been given and make the most of it while we can, and rest in the assurance that all things work for the good of those who love him.

Halloween Festivities
On a lighter, more shallow note, Halloween is tomorrow, and I am very excited ("What? I thought crazy Christian fundamentalists like yourself think Halloween is Satan's holiday!" "Who said I was a fundamentalist?"). Since I'm working in the pharmacy, I have big plans of wearing a tacky wig to celebrate. I originally wanted to smear my lab coat with fake blood and fill pill bottles with tic-tacs that I would munch on in front of customers, but my boss told me that was a bad idea. So tacky wig it is. Afterward, I'm going to my friend's house to pass out candy and watch scary movies. This is a pretty low-key Halloween for me, as I usually like having costumes parties with all the works, but like I said, that whole life thing gets in the way of me doing creative things. Like writing in this blog.

"I'm Not Prejudice - I have an Ethnically Diverse Group of Friends"

Have you ever noticed that it's taboo to joke about any ethnic groups unless you are a part of that ethnic group? Then, it's not only acceptable to joke about it, but for members of other ethnic groups to laugh at your jokes. They just can't make any jokes backs. For example, I have a Norwegian - Scottish background, so I joke that's why I'm so cheap and short-tempered. My friend Chelsea, who has Irish, French, Indian and Hispanic (and who knows what else) ancestry can reply "That's for sure! And you know what else is funny about those Norwegian-Scottish people? They -"

"Hold on now, Chelsea - I'm starting to feel offended."

"But I haven't even said anything yet!"

"I don't want to listen to your prejudices against my people!"

"But I'm not prejudice! In fact, I'm friends with someone who has Norwegian-Scottish ancestry."

"Oh, well, I guess that's all right then."

It's also funny how friendship with member of a given ethnic group grants you immunity from being prejudice against that group. Which is why there is no such thing as prejudice or racism against Caucasians, because, being the majority, everyone is friends with at least one white person.

The other day, Jonathan, my boss at the Pharmacy, was laughing because even though he's Vietnamese, many of the older Chinese customers who come into the store try to speak to him in Chinese thinking he'll understand, even getting angry with him when he doesn't. Later that day a Polish woman was joking that because she had an accent, most people assumed she was Hispanic. I asked Jonathan whether he had that problem, and he said yes, people have tried speaking to him in Spanish as well as Chinese.

I once had an older Indian woman apologize for not recognizing me because "all you white people look alike to me."

No matter what race or ethnicity we are, human beings are all prone to silliness, and I'm glad that race isn't as big of an issue for my generation as it was for my parents, and I hope it will be even less of an issue for my children. I think it can be, if we all just loosen up a little more and learn to laugh at ourselves and be comfortable with others laughing with us.

But then, I'm an optimist - which comes from my Scottish side.

Politics are Depressing; But God Still Reigns

Is it just me, or do politics in general just no seem worth our attention anymore? It seems that any time I read anything from either the right or the left side of the spectrum, I leave feeling depressed and unsure. That's not a happy feeling for someone who generally goes through life with the optimistic belief that everything will turn out all right in the end and things are never as bad as they seem.

But things seems pretty bad now. The War in Iraq, the War on Terror, this bickering on both sides. It's hard to know where I stand politically because right now I can't agree with either party and neither represents me.

It's hard, because I want know where to stand politically. I want to know what to believe and to know that I am right. But life is not so simple, and it's difficult to pin down absolutes when it comes to political and social issues.

I could become apathetic. I once heard somewhere that pessimists should be the happiest people in the world because they are never disappointed and often pleasantly surprised.

But do I really want to go through my life a cynic? Allow myself to become bitter because I continue to be disappointed by frailty of human nature?

No, I believe the feeling of discontentment I'm experiencing is coming from a higher power all together, who is gently urging me not to seek security in the institutions of man, but in the constancy of his power. Not to rely on the counsel of men, but to lean on his truth.

God will do what he can to strip the illusions from the eyes of his children see they can see their need of him. C. S. Lewis puts it much better than I can:

"I am progressing along the path of life in my ordinary contentedly fallen
and godless condition, absorbed in a merry meeting with my friends for the morrow or a bit of work that tickles my vanity today, a holiday or a new book, when suddenly a stab of abdominal pain that threatens serious disease, or a headline in the newspapers that threatens us all with destruction, sends this whole pack of cards tumbling down. As first I am overwhelmed, and all my little happinesses look like broken toys. Then, slowly and reluctantly, bit by bit, I try to bring myself into the frame of mind that I should be in at all times. I remind myself that all these toys were never intended to possess my heart, that my true good is in another world and my only real treasure is Christ."

My hope is built on Jesus Christ. And through him alone can I have the assurance that everything will turn out right in the end.

Asian Television

In case my friends back home were worried that I would become too cool for them now that I live in the Big City (or in a smaller city outside the Big City), rest assured.

("Whew!" says Friend From Back Home, "I was so worried!")

I am still the same lovable dork Me that I've always been. Except now I'm a lovable dork Me who is addicted to AZN, the cable channel dedicated to Asian Americans! It all started when I was flipping through the channels, bored, with nothing to entertain me, when I saw a show with Korean people wearing period outfits.

"Wow," I thought, "Those are Korean people wearing period outfits. This show must be good!"

Even better was that fact that there were convenient subtitles on the screen, so I didn't have to make up my own dialogue like I had to back when I watched Spanish soap operas (don't judge me!). Before I knew it, I was sucked into a plot filled with intrigue and deception, and I was hooked. Then my husband came home.

"What are you watching?" He said with a raised eyebrow.

"Um ... I don't know the title of the show, because I can't read Korean," I said. "But ...!" I then began telling him the whole plot of the series.

Taylor, like most people, watches T.V. in a vegetative state, so he found it hard to understand why I would enjoy watching a show with subtitles. It was too much like ... reading ... He can understand why I like to read, but actively watching a show with subtitles seemed to be crossing too many barriers. Reading is a smart, healthy thing to do. T.V. is a lazy, stupid thing to do, and ne're the two shall meet.

Like most wives, I agreed with him and then secretly resolved to do exactly I wanted, and so I've kept watching. Only now I fear that the period drama is a gateway drug, because now I'm watching more and more AZN shows. First there was Asia Street Comedy (The title itself is enough to make me laugh.), now I've started watching Anime.

But it's no big deal. I can quit anytime I want. But not right now, my show's back on.

Napster is killing my jokes!

Okay, so in my previous post I had to click on a link entitled "where do they all come from?" which was supposed to lead you to the song "We Only Come Out at Night." by the Smashing Pumpkins, but Napster's supposed "share link" is dumb. Which is why I buy my music from iTunes.

Working at Brooks

Being a person who enjoys observing people and commenting on the aspects of human nature, working at Brooks Pharmacys has provided ample opportunities to feed my habits. In fact, too ample. So ample I'm not sure even where to begin my rant. Perhaps a little background on my store would help.

First, the average pharmacy processes between 300-500 scripts (that's pharmacy speak for prescription) a week, while it is common for our pharmacy to do over 300 in one day. Needless to say, that's a lot of time spent filling pill bottles and a LOT of potentially angry customers.

Second, due the nature of pharmicutical work, which is giving medicine to sick people, every customer is angry. They're mad at the tiny germs causing their illness, they're mad at their doctors, mad at their insurance agencies, and they're mad at me, the pharmacy tech, because I am the bearer of bad news about their doctors and insurance companies, and plus I take a long time to count pills. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed I can't help but wonder where do these people come from?

It probably doesn't help that our store is right across the street from a three-story tall Public Housing that holds all the senior citizens in Quincy. I think the highlight of their day is to come to Brooks with their fifty prescriptions and tell me about every ill that's occuring in their life. I think it might be the white lab coats, but for some reason customers love telling us about every single bodily function they have. It's ironic, because HIPPA is very stern about pharmacies not revealing patients' medical information, but the patients themselves announce to the whole store that they're about to have a colonoscopy.

The old folks really aren't that bad. The ones who really stir up trouble are the people on the state's health care plan. Now, Mass Health covers almost everything, and most medications only cost the patient between $1-$3 if they are not free. But you would not believe how many people tell me they don't have any money to pay for their meds. I had this one lady come in chowing down on a pint of Ben & Jerry's ice creams, which as you know is not cheap.

"I don't have no money for my medicine," she said, smacking her lips. "Just put it on my tab."
"Um, okay." I said. Brooks, doesn't deny anyone medicine it they can't afford it. So, a very complicated system was developed to allow someone to take their medicine home and then come back and pay for it later. But, technically there's no "tab" because we aren't the Down Home Country Store. Pharmacist Jonathan decides to try to explain that to the customer.

"Actually, m'am, we don't have a tab. You have to pay for your medicine."

She sets down her ice cream, the glint in the eye revealing a readiness for battle. "Oh, yes you do! I know because I've done it before!"

Jonathan continued "I know, but you have to pay for it. I can give it to you, but you have to come back and pay for it when you've have the money." I didn't mention it to Jonathan, but to most people that's what a "tab" means.

The customer picked up her ice cream, and resumed smacking. "Oh, I know that, I just don't have the money right now. But I'll pay for it later."

Satisfied, Jonathan left, and I was torn between saying "Yeah, right" and "You know, if you hadn't spend the $4 buying that expensive ice cream I bet you would've had the $3 to pay for your medicine." But you can't reason with someone who feels entitled to both ice cream and free meds, and to do so would have probably resulted in me wearing Ben & Jerry's for the rest of my shift.

While I enjoy observing human folly, I don't particularly enjoy participating in it. However, working in the pharmacy has shown me a whole spectrum of people and attitudes which makes me think about our society. In general, I'm against government handouts, because like Ben & Jerry's lady clear demonstrates, they're often abused. But what about nice old lady from across the street who is one fifty different scripts - she honestly can't afford them. How do we balance personal responsibility with community responsibility? It's a question I've been struggling with a lot here in Tax-achussetts, and one that won't be easily answered in one essay.

As for the question about why Brook's customers are the way they are, the answer is simple. People are weird. And that's about all you can say.

The Joys of Government Service

Today I went to the Regsiter of Motor Vehicles today, foolishly believing that I was completely prepared to prove that Arkansas didn't screw up and I am who I really say I am. But alas, it turns out they say they want four documents that can verify your name, residency, birthday, and signature, it means they want one for each of those catergories - sorry, no double dipping. So although my driver's license clearly had my signature and birthdate, it could only be used for one. Although my lease has my name on it, it didn't have my signature ( my landlord has my signed copy) therefore it wasn't valid. Did I have a checkbook with my address? Of course, just not with me at the time. I wasn't sure why my checkbook was more valid than my lease, but whatever. I tried to be polite to the RMV lady, but the idiocy of the whole system made me furious. As Taylor walked me to the car, and I was shouting about the stupidity of beaucracies and scaring young children.

Still seething, I then went to work at the Pharmacy in Brooks. And there, I recieved back just what I gave. The funny thing about insurance cards, if you have to have them with you if you want to use insurance to pay for your meds. I delt with demanding customers all night long, who, in the words of one pharmacist, "only their meds now, and free ... what's wrong with that?"

I was about to complain about this as well, when it struck me that the lady at the RMV was probably as frustrated by me as I was by my customers at the pharmacy. That's when I realized that all customers are stupid. Including myself.

But seriously, I think God might have been trying to teach me a lesson. The first is that I am not always in the right in every situation. The second, is that I might get frustrated by my government, but at least I live with a government that allows me to write about this in a public forum, unlike in China where the Internet is screened. At least I have the oppurtunity to drive, unlike in many Middle Eastern countries where women are denied that priviledge. So it may be stupid, but it's a whole lot better than others out there, and I have the oppurtunty help make a change by being allowed to vote. Which I'll do, as soon as I get my voter's registration taken care of, which will happen when I collect four forms of ID. Which will happen with the State of Texas gets around to mailing me a copy of my marriage license. And thus the cycle continues. But not how I react.

Someone Clearly Doesn't Know How to Format Blogger

I admit it, it's true. But I also don't care enough to fix it. And that's the level of excellance you can expect here on Southern Girl Northern Bound!