THE PART WHERE I ELABORATE
The moped is pretty sweet. It's a new Tomos ST, cherry red, only slightly dented and scratched from where it may have hit a wall that I may have driven it into (in my defense, I was run off the road. It didn't help that I had no idea what I was doing and ended up slamming into the wall because I had zero skillz and experience.) I was also slightly dented and scratched.
The glamor camping (glamping) was pretty great - air-conditioned, themed trailers, heated salt-water swimming pool, rooftop hottub, BB gun and archery range... We were really roughing it.
Pretty cool, right? If you ever feel the need to commune with nature and look at stars and be one with dirt or whatever, I highly recommend Hicksville. Best camping experience ever.
After a few days in the desert I came home and some of the letter keys on my keyboard stopped working. 'A', for example, stopped happening. That, right there, is two-thirds of my name. So, you know, I gave up on the brilliant novel I was going to write. By the time I got this external keyboard that I'm using, the inspiration and motivation for the novel, it was gone. My recently acquired dreams dashed. No more Great American Novel for me.
Let's see... Then there was the photoshoot and the next day, a flight to Boston but between those two events, there was attempted sabotage. The animals (one cat, two dogs) saw the packed luggage and conspired to Take Me Out. The cat came up with the plan and the dogs executed it perfectly - the small one crouched behind my ankles while the big one barreled into me from the front, knocking me over and injuring my foot so badly it swelled up bigger than my head.
ADVENTURES IN THE UNINSURED
The foot, it did not seem to be getting better and because I have no insurance, I went to a free clinic in Echo Park to have it looked at. Finding a clinic, by the way, was a nightmare. Every one I called (and there are not very many) said that they were not taking new patients or that they were no longer offering low-income rates. Not having insurance in this country really, really, REALLY sucks.
The clinic I finally found cost a little over a hundred dollars. I was asked a couple of questions there and never even unwrapped the bandage on my foot before I was sent to another location in Chinatown for the X-rays. A few hours later, thoroughly irradiated, I got a phone call at home from the doctor in the clinic telling me that there was no fracture but plenty of soft tissue damage and it could take up to six months to heal. That was it. I'm not sure, exactly, how I'm supposed to care for it or whether or not I can continue to work both jobs on it but hey - that's what I get for not being able to afford insurance.
I'M NOT BITTER.
And then I went to Boston, which is beautiful. Such a gorgeous, green, beautiful city and I loved it. I was only there for very short while and I can't wait to go back.
After a few days in the desert I came home and some of the letter keys on my keyboard stopped working. 'A', for example, stopped happening. That, right there, is two-thirds of my name. So, you know, I gave up on the brilliant novel I was going to write. By the time I got this external keyboard that I'm using, the inspiration and motivation for the novel, it was gone. My recently acquired dreams dashed. No more Great American Novel for me.
Let's see... Then there was the photoshoot and the next day, a flight to Boston but between those two events, there was attempted sabotage. The animals (one cat, two dogs) saw the packed luggage and conspired to Take Me Out. The cat came up with the plan and the dogs executed it perfectly - the small one crouched behind my ankles while the big one barreled into me from the front, knocking me over and injuring my foot so badly it swelled up bigger than my head.
ADVENTURES IN THE UNINSURED
The foot, it did not seem to be getting better and because I have no insurance, I went to a free clinic in Echo Park to have it looked at. Finding a clinic, by the way, was a nightmare. Every one I called (and there are not very many) said that they were not taking new patients or that they were no longer offering low-income rates. Not having insurance in this country really, really, REALLY sucks.
The clinic I finally found cost a little over a hundred dollars. I was asked a couple of questions there and never even unwrapped the bandage on my foot before I was sent to another location in Chinatown for the X-rays. A few hours later, thoroughly irradiated, I got a phone call at home from the doctor in the clinic telling me that there was no fracture but plenty of soft tissue damage and it could take up to six months to heal. That was it. I'm not sure, exactly, how I'm supposed to care for it or whether or not I can continue to work both jobs on it but hey - that's what I get for not being able to afford insurance.
I'M NOT BITTER.
And then I went to Boston, which is beautiful. Such a gorgeous, green, beautiful city and I loved it. I was only there for very short while and I can't wait to go back.
Lucy Vincent Beach on Martha's Vineyard was tiny, and gorgeous, and the place where I touched the Atlantic for the first time. I'd flown over it a few times, even played near it, but until last week, never actually set foot in it.
That's all for now. Tomorrow, the Guy, the Kid, the Kid's BFF, my BFF, my other BFF, my other BFF's parents, and me will be going to Disneyland. It will be fun. I will have a cane to help with the walking and possibly rent a wheelchair. This is awesome because we will be sent to the front of ALL THE LINES.
SUCK ON THAT, YOU INSURED, UNBROKEN PEOPLE.
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