We Are All Innocent...Except Blagojevich

I'm lying here listening to David Cook's version of "Innocent," and I'm finding that it is indeed inspirational and calming, as though listening to these lyrics long enough will make them come true.

Today I found out that I have joined the ranks of the uninsured. Can anyone provide an intelligent argument against socializing health care? Health is not a privilege. You don't earn it, and you shouldn't have to buy it. After many phone calls, I was told they would reinstate the insurance one time but I would have to pay the full balance before they would do so.

You know what makes it easier to pay the full balance? When I actually get a bill, or a phone call, or, hell, even a notice of impending cancellation. Instead, Vanderbilt called seeking insurance information, and then informed me that Aetna had cancelled my coverage. I spoke with a woman at Aetna who actually (gasp) gave me the mailing address and balance due. For the bargain price of $424.68, I can continue going to all of the health care professionals who overcharge me as though there were money coursing through my veins.

I've never typed the word "coursing" before. It looks weird.

I spoke to my doctor today, and we agreed that if the Center for Pelvic Health thinks it's a good idea to inject things into me, we might as well go ahead and try that. I guess they've run out of places to put scopes, so now it's time to just start sticking me with needles. I'm not a fan of needles that don't come with the bonus of a piercing or tattoo, but I guess I can handle this.

And although it does seem incredibly trivial at this juncture, I have roots, and I had to cancel my hair appointment last week because I can't afford it. My hair looks like hell, my eyebrows need to be waxed, and I've been having the longest string of "fat days" I've ever had.

Yes, I know I'm not fat. Skinny girls have fat days, too.