TheMommyBlog

Monday, February 08, 2010 Our Holiday Curse, Bad Mood Dude, Family

The goddamn fucking gate has been off the fence all this time and someone just stole my gas BBQ. It was here before I left for mom’s birthday dinner last night.

All I needed was to get the stupid thing back on the post. People offered to help but I didn’t stand there with a whip and it didn’t happen. I literally cannot lift it myself. And now the 16-foot storage POD will be here within the hour, along with Dylan and Daphne, who are sick. My ex is bringing them here so he can have phone calls.

And one of my children just received one of the worst behavior reports ever and I HAD NO IDEA. Why did no one talk with us about this before sending it home, so we could fix it?

It’s just raining kittens and ice cream here.

At least I will have time to myself to finish clearing out personal stuff so the Realtor can show the place ASAP. The kids will spending their winter break in Tahoe with their father and my parents this Saturday through Wednesday, so I got that going for me, which is nice.

Sunday, February 07, 2010 Family

I flew all the way back from Nashville at midnight on Friday so that I could see Daphne in Alice In Wonderland this weekend. She was just cute as a bug.

The Duchess: Be what you would seem to be—or, if you’d like it put more simply—Never imagine yourself not to be otherwise than what it might appear to others that what you were or might have been was not otherwise than what you had been would have appeared to them to be otherwise.

Alice: I think I should understand that better, if I had it written down: but I can’t quite follow it as you say it.

Saturday, February 06, 2010 Family

Just returned from NashVegas last night where I spoke at the Blissdom ‘10 conference at the Grand Ole Opry.

First, let me just say that that is seriously the most terrifyingly massive hotel property I have ever been in that didn’t have slot machines lining the halls. There’s one entrance that I knew of, and several pavilions to walk through whenever you had to get from your room to the conference to lunch to your room to drop stuff off and back to the conference. Several of these pavilions were rain forests, some were carnivals, some were massive band shells, and I am pretty sure they each had their own ecosystem, complete with different dialects spoken by the people who sold sequinwear in shops spread throughout the place. I actually bought a pair of jeans while I was there. I’d played a game with myself: if I found something in my size that wasn’t downright unwearable AND didn’t have a single sequin or crystal on it, I would buy it and wear it RIGHT THEN. Badabing.

My favorite part had to be arriving at midnight and not knowing how to check in. I was sharing with a roommate who had arrived before me and would leave after I left. So when I announced myself as Melinda Roberts, I got a few taps on the keyboard and then a blank stare.

“Um, try under ‘Mindy Roberts?’”

TypityTypityTypity. “No Ma’am.”

“Oh, God this is so embarrassing. I don’t remember my roommates name. I could give you her twitter name, though.”

Polite stare.

“MooshinIndy ring a bell?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Well. I’m speaking at the Blissdom Conference here, does that help? Look, I’m sorry, it’s late and I don’t have the name, but we can call Cassie Boom who organized this and see if she can…”

She had walked off to look something up in the back room, or maybe to get a beer and a chair. I could be telling this story for a while.

When she came back, I was ready to say, “I’ll room with whoever else is with the conference. I only need to sleep a few hours and then I’m leaving for the airport in the afternoon. Look, has anyone called down for a girl? Heh. Kidding. But has anyone?”

“I’ve got you right here, under Mindy.”

“Ah, yes, that’s me, I didn’t mean to confuse things with a last name.” WHATEVER.

You’d think that would solve things, but no. It didn’t. She handed me a map of the premises that looked just like an amusement park map. Each parcel of acreage was a different bright color, with landmarks, elevators and regional embassies marked in pale brown type. I was having a seizure just looking at it.

“You’re going to want to walk right through those doors.” I looked up and wondered if there was an inscription along the lines of abandoning hope. “Then you’ll want to stay to your left, not the middle, your left, and right here are some elevators.” I couldn’t tell if they were a halfway point or the ones I was to use but I didn’t want to overthink this.

“Thank you so much, I can’t wait to get there. Now, is there anywhere you’d recommend to get a bite and a drink? No? Everything is closed? EVERYTHING? AREN’T WE AT THE OPRYLAND HOTEL? Oh, your room service is good. Okay.” Good grief.

People, I am not making this up. I was so stunned by the first biodome that I stood there clicking poorly-lit photos with my camera, partially so I could digest it later, and partially in case I needed to show it to a guide on my way home. Along the way I passed several open-air bars and restaurant gazebos that were closed—CLOSED—and soon found myself next to a bank of elevators. From there it was 2.3 KM due east to my room.

I got in and punched the fourth floor. When the doors opened, all I saw were rooms. Nothing that looked like a hall that stretched 2.3 KM. So I hit Lobby and went back down. Where there was sort of a dead end. So I hit four again and looked both ways. Huh. I went ALL THE WAY DOWN and ALL THE WAY BACK AGAIN before deciding to forage for a trail. As it happened, there was a hall that stretched waaaaay beyond 2.3 KM, and my room was about 1.5 KM past the first bend. By that time I was dropping my bags, tearing at my shirt and calling “CAAASSSEYYYY!” like a demented Marlon Brando. Oh, did I mention I tried to get into someone else’s room on the wrong wing? I did. I tried the card key eight or nine times before realizing that I was in The C wing, not the G wing. Sorry, dude. You can go back to sleep now.

Imagine my despair when I collapsed on the bed and realized my roomie was NOT THERE. Auuugggh. Casey, Casey, I found out your name, hacked my way through the forests and trudged the carpeted plains to find you and you weren’t there. Waaaaahh.

An hour later, she was back and my room service dinner - a Caesar salad and wine, $65, and a steal at that - was there too, so we talked and giggled and had pillow fights until past three a.m. At least that’s what I told my boyfriend who was a little inconvenienced that I’d taken so long to check in. Ahhh, give him a little something to think about. He likes redheads, and she thought it was funny. I love funny Mormons. Though she did get me good when I dressed in my red suit and skirt and she said, “Hey, you look like you’re headed to the Tea Party Convention!”

Biiiitch.

I did wear the suit for the morning, but the Tea party was literally next door to Blissdom and the TV cameras and people’s heads kept swiveling my way whenever I tottered by in my Mrs. Wiggins heels and tight skirt. I chose poorly. Hence, the gamble that I would find something that would allow me to blend before my afternoon session.

Thank you to everyone who made me feel so welcome (and Heather Sokol! We met after six years at last!) and to the organizers. It was a truly spectacular conference. And I don’t meant that it was dazzling, I mean that everyone was friendly, and open, and there was a complete lack of elitism and competition wherever I turned. Everyone was friendly and wanted to talk and to listen. No one would let me sit alone. The Cover Girl folks grabbed their chairs and scooted way over to make another space for me at their table rather then let me eat at an empty table. I was amazed.

It was exactly what our conferences used to be, and ought to be. It was Bliss. I loved meeting all of you.

Oh, and in case you were wondering why I’m bummed out, this was on my lawn this morning.

Wednesday, February 03, 2010 Bad Mood Dude, Family

I’ve just been on the phone for an hour with Anthem. Six months ago, I applied for a policy with a request for HIPAA coverage if they denied my application (I knew they would, and they did). I waited for the notice that I’d been accepted under HIPAA. I knew it would take a few months. This has happened before.

Backstory: twice now, the company that carried my COBRA went out of business, taking my coverage with it. Instantaneously stripped of health insurance coverage.

Single mom of three, sole support.

I checked in periodically until last week when I finally got someone to admit that they had made a mistake. You see, they insisted that I had not checked the box for HIPAA, but I had. They finally admitted the mistake, awarded me coverage backdated six months to the last date of COBRA, and then promptly demanded that I pay all six months of premiums in 30 days or risk cancellation of the policy that had been awarded not ten minutes earlier.

“We’re sorry, we made a mistake, we’re correcting it, and you owe us $3,014.00 in thirty days. Or we’ll cancel the policy we should have awarded you months ago.”

Irony: my monthly medical expenses have averaged roughly the same as my monthly premium. I would MUCH rather have been paying Anthem directly.

So I went on a campaign. For the first twenty minutes they insisted that I pay all six months or suffer consequences.

So I went over heads. One supervisor later, they’d agreed to allow a partial payment of two months, about $1,000.00.

Two supervisors later, I’d gotten them down to one month, or $504.00. BUT! I must pay the remaining five months in the next billing cycle, which I assume will have one more premium accrued, so—wait for it— I’ll be facing that 6-month bill again for $3.014.00.

Christ in a breakfast nook holding a bagel in one hand and a newspaper in the other.

I had to get aggressive to get them to admit they were at fault, and then was shut out. I tried to go to legal, they would not allow it. A supervisor said, “This is not for Legal, this is our fault.” That is why they made an exception and allowed me to pay just one month within 30 days.

And they will not provide a way to expedite reimbursements for pharmacy and medical office charges. She’s sending me an email with a claims form.

God Bless America.

UPDATE: As of today, Tuesday, February 9, 2010, I have still not received the emailed forms. Looks like I will have to call in again for another go-round.