...and here I am peddling my wares

Yep....I'm sellin something.  

Calm down, relax, don't go changing your numbers or removing me from Snapchat just yet.

 

I'm not asking you to host a party, or come try on my leggings or telling you you're fat so you should wrap some shit on those dimples. 

Well not yet...actually not ever.  

I don't plan on having parties or guilting anyone into buying a $600 dollar knife set (although I do have one and it's worth every penny and I can totally hook you up with a guy...) 

Really, there are only a few people who should feel obligated to buy whatever I chuck at their faces- only one really.  (If your name rhymes with Fawna, Lawna, Tawna....you know who you are...  Oh, to hell with it- SHAUNA this is you, but I'll get to you later.  In person, so it's harder to say no) 

Seriously though- that's totally not what this blog post is about.  Not really.

I did decide to jump into a new "business" and I will be the seller of some shit.  

Jeezus, I can feel your eyes rolling already- and my first response is to tell most of you to fuck off.  

Why? 

Well, Because I am the proud owner of leggings, vitamins, shakes, dildos, pizza stones, jewelry, and more candle wax than fucking yankee candle company; that's why.  

Also, because I'm not trying to sell you any shit- at least not yet.  (But I will SHAUNA and MIRIAM and HEATHER and JESSICA.and COURTNEY...oh, I know it's been a while for some of you ladies, but I haven't forgotten the purse parties or the time you laughed at my eyebrows Jessica.)

  

 

 
 

 

(I disguised the suspects but I'll totally take you off if you want me to) 

Back to my point....

I initially planned on becoming just a customer of my "cool-as-shit cousin Meg, but as usual I called an audible at the last minute and became a SB or a TP or a PPIQ or whatever letters they use to refer to "the chick that can get the shit and take your money".  (If your wondering.....no, those letters do not contain the letter c.  You know for consultant....but whatever.)

At this point I can pretty much feel Meg cringing (from 800 miles away)and telling me I'm a BP and for the love of all things holy please stop calling it shit. (She's my boss-ish but she can't actually fire me so I'll be calling it shit for the rest of this post if you're wondering)

 

Back to my elusive point:

Meg is a BP (or SP or PPIP or some shit) for Rodan and Fields.  That is the shit I keep referring to...although I don't really think it's shit.  (I would assume by now any of you reading this understand that shit is essentially my word for stuff or items. You know, just like terrorists and assholes are my words for children) 

Well anyway, Meg is my sponsor (we'll call her my dealer for now because it's more interesting) and she has asked me to write "my why" for joining R&F.  So that's the point of all this.  

You know the drill..... 

The dealer is the keeper of the shit, so you do what the dealer wants to get the shit.

....this means I'm gonna have to write an acceptable and mainly politically correct "why" for the people that don't know me.  

In order to offset the mental anguish of writing an entire paragraph without the word fuck I decided bring the real shit to my blog....where I can curse and call people dealers and make you laugh all while explaining why I decided to sell this. 

It's pretty simple - fucking zits and holy shit wrinkles that don't go away when I quit making the "for the love of god pick up the goddamn toys" face.  

Really that's it. You can quit reading now - you know the reason.  

But......If you're still paying attention I'll elaborate. 

I have the skin of a pubescent boy- AT ALMOST 40 FUCKING YEARS OLD!  Not the perks tho....I don't have the collagen of a pubescent boy.  I have the collagen of a 36 year old smoker which means I have fucking wrinkles under zits!  What in the actual fuck!?!?!

Know what else I have? 

-Baskets and drawers and bags full of shit to slather on my asshole skin. 

-Dermatologist appointments Coming  out of my ass....

-9,567,345 Walgreens points from all of the prescriptions for the slathering shit

And a standing Botox appointment to paralyze my face so it wont get any worse while I'm not paying attention

Check it out:

These are just a few pics of my stash:

 

 

Got a rare fungal infection from the jungles of Africa that causes boils?  I've prob got a steroid for that.... 

 

None of it really works completely and I'm losing my fucking patience. 

The tiny terrorist is still a dick and making things worse if you were wondering....She told me a few weeks ago that I needed to get on proactive for my "spots".  She even tried to sell me on their new face mask!!! (She has also reminded me about proactive no less than twice a week since.)

 

 I know she means well but she's 4 for fucks sake! 

That brings me to two weeks ago. 

I decided to go back to the only thing that has ever worked for me and gotten rid of my acne completely- Accutane. 

The side effects are pretty harsh: dry skin and lips, decreased night vision, ingrown toenails, giant headed fetuses, depression, suicide and liver damage.  (Yeah I totally said giant-headed fetuses....look that shit up) 

 I've survived them before.... there's also still the damn four year old counting my spots.  

So, off I went to the dermatologist. He agreed to write the script and I was on my way.  

Until I hit the Walgreens.  

$285 for a prescription that will cure my zits for 30 days and may or may not cause me to blow my head off even if the zits go away.  

Surprise!!! My insurance doesn't cover the cost because I'm too old for acne.  

Thanks Aetna!  I fucking think so too....maybe you could have a pep talk with my fucking face.  

$285 is a problem because .that totally eats up my $300 Botox budget (shut up- yes I have a Botox budget) 

Since I couldn't decide which was worse (zits or wrinkles) I just shit-canned both. 

That's where my dealer Meg comes in.  She's been using the same shit and her face looks AMAZING.  I asked her all about it and did no research and jumped right in.  

It was cheaper than the giant-fetus-head meds and lasts longer than the botox, plus there is a empty bottle refund guarantee.  

It def. can't be worse than my other 2 options right? 

(I've since done a little research and it actually looks really promising.)

So there's my why- vanity and my asshole kid (and I really hate having to wear make up to cover my skin...so laziness too) 

I'm supposed to put a pic of my why, but my skin is a shit show so I'm refusing for now. Instead here's a really cute picture of me with all kinds of flattering filters.  (I have taken a pic and will post it with my results later on when I'm talking you into buying my shit.... )

 

Until then check out my FB post for some of the amazing products and results that other people have had. 

That's  it for now. Wish me luck! 

   

https://ayaste.myrandf.com/

I'm a Giant Douche (I Even Have My Own Flute)

I finally did it - I decided to stop smoking (and actually moved beyond the saying it part and jumped right into doing it..sort of....so far....)

Go ahead with your stroke or convulsion.
I'll wait....

I initially quit cold turkey, but two days into it I felt like a fucking lunatic and the poor hubs was seconds away from locking me in the basement or knocking me out.  With good reason.
See, in addition to just being a typical moody dick with no nicotine I raised the bar a bit and became a complete asshole-douchebag-shitface-demon-lady.

I literally got up from taking a NAP to yell at the husband for putting the dishes away too loudly.
SERIOUSLY, I DID THAT.  I AM A GIANT DOUCHE!
As he looked at me in confusion and disbelief  I saw a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.  Looking back on it now I'm sure he was shocked at my outburst and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to say to the crazy lady in his kitchen.

Back when I still smoked  - look how happy we both are

Unfortunately, the nicotine deprived monster bitch in my body saw that as a smile - and that meant he was laughing at me!!! At that moment I wanted to claw his eyes out with every fiber in my being.  I was sane enough to walk away and know that I was being a giant douche-canoe for no reason.  My saint of a husband didn't
even get angry or call me a giant douche-canoe.  He simply kept on putting the dishes away while I stomped off to be angry.  (Because clearly there is nothing worse than someone else doing your dishes and putting them away too loudly.... (Yeah, I'm a total dick)

Poor D endured another day of this shit show (and never once called me a bad name or pushed me down the stairs)
By day two even I had to admit I was being a giant horse's ass so I accepted defeat and headed to the gas station for a pack of smokes.

I don't deserve his kind of goodness

I have no idea what possessed me to stop at the vape shop instead, but I did,  and before I knew it I was talking to some kid about flavor juice and nicotine content and coil packs and all kinds of douche-y shit that made my eyes roll up into my skull.  It felt like time had reversed and I was once again the 13 year old who just started smoking.  Not knowing what I was doing or if I was making a damn fool of myself.  If that isn't bad enough I went ahead and bought my very own vape pen (or douche cigar as I call it).  Now I get to admit I'm a "vaper"... like all those 20-something idiot millennials I usually make fun of.

In the past (when I still had my self-respect) whenever I came across a "vaper" you could literally hear my eyes rolling.

Now that's me...the one hiding over there in a corner sucking fruit-flavored non-smoke just so I don't force my husband into stabbing me 78 times in the face because of my shitty attitude.

Anyway, I don't know if I can truly call it quitting with the whole nicotine infused cluster fuck contraption, but I'm no longer setting shit on fire and inhaling the smoke...  It's at least a step in the right direction...in every way except my image.

I am making progress.  It's been 8 days so far and I've been fairly successful.  I've cheated a few times, but the stars must have aligned for me because they tasted horrible and each one got worse.  I miss enjoying my smokes but the cravings for a physical cigarette and the action of smoking it are starting to go away.

I've tried to quit twice in the past and I only lasted 2 days and 48 minutes....I'm at motherfucking-eight-days!  (I'm also cheap and this douche cigar cost me $80 bucks so I'm gonna use it till it dies or blows my teeth right outta my head)

I think the hardest part in quitting for me is that I still really liked my cigarettes.

I even made smoking look artsy fartsy fancy

I never got tired of the taste, or resentful of the cost  - I enjoyed my smokes and the many quiet breaks my smoking habit afforded me.

I never really wanted to quit in truth.
I wasn't "DONE" or sick or angry.
I wish I could be like other people who get fed up with it all.  They get to the point that they don't enjoy the taste or the smell or the ritual.

Not me.
I crave everything about cigarettes; the taste, the smell, the feel of taking a drag, 7 minutes of silence while i smoke in the garage (it's my special place where no kids are allowed - it's attached to the house where the terrorists reside with their teenhole sister, 3 dogs, a cat and god knows what else slips in unnoticed)

Even now, after having two cigarettes that tasted like garbage I still miss my damn smokes.
"I know I could enjoy them again if I just give it 3 days and a pack of Marlborough Lights"  (That was my actual though after realizing the taste wasn't as good anymore...)

I didn't quit because I wanted to.
I didn't quit because I want to be more active with my kids.
I didn't quit because I wanted to save money and I didn't quit because it was currently affecting my health.

I've been smoking for 23 years.  I never felt bad about it really.  For quite a few of those years I was active in sports, working out and even running.   I'd smoke before the gym and smoke after the gym...hell I was up and smoking a cigarette as soon as the epidural wore off after having each of my kids.   I was a super dedicated and overachieving smoker.  

So why did I quit?
I quit because I'm terrified.  I have lost 3 important people in my life in the last 5 months to lung cancer alone and there's another one battling it now.  (Every one of them was a smoker.  Two of them quit more than a decade ago.)
It gets better...Have I mentioned my stellar genetics?
The Moms has had cancer 3 times,
My dad died of cancer (and stupidity),
Both grandfathers had cancer (one of them had 2 different types I think),
An uncle had some other kind of cancer.
And this is only in my immediate family.

I'm playing with losing odds and I'm terrified.  (Clearly, I'm also a REALLY fucking slow learner)

I'm finally angry enough to quit.
I'm angry that even though I'm going through this whole shit show of quitting smoking it could very well be for nothing.  I might end up just like my friends.
I'm angry that this controlled me for so long and that I allowed it to put me in this predicament (I didn't even get a diamond or a car for this commitment).
I'm angry that I won't really know if I've caused irreparable damage until it's too late.
I'm angry that I did this willingly and knowingly.
I'm especially angry that I now look like a fucking ass-hat sucking on my douchey $80 vape pen so I don't lose my shit over chores I don't have to do.

This is what I do now....awesome

But I'm succeeding...at least that's what I tell myself.  It's been 8 days and I've only had a few smokes. I've spent all but a few evenings in the company of smokers and even managed to have a few drinks and not smoke a cigarette.

I don't crave a cigarette first thing in the morning anymore and the smell is actually starting to bother me; not entice me.

I'm not even using the douche pen as often as I was in the beginning.
I'm giving myself the remainder of this bottle of nicotine infused pina colada flavored heaven then I'll quit the douche stick too....hopefully.

Before I get too sure of myself ....I do have a back up plan in case that doesn't work and I start torturing Big D again..
(I'll step down to a lower dose of nicotine  and then move to the juice with no nicotine of I still have issues - 4 more weeks max hopefully....maybe?)

For the love of god if any of you see me still sucking on this stupid contraption in June light me on fire and kick me down a hill or stairs - I'll deserve it.

Lastly, I'll just put a blanket apology out here now:  I'm sorry if  I'm a giant dick-hole to any of you.  I don't really hate your face.  Just give me a few weeks or slap a nicotine patch on my forehead and come back in 15 minutes.

I say Bad Things To Innocent People....but I saved more than 5% by using a coupon

Yesterday I called a complete stranger a motherfucker...kind of....for something that I knew wasn't her fault.

I feel kind of like a dick but I hope the message makes it to its intended recipient.  Normally I'm a letter writer (see The Kidnapping Room) and normally I'm a little more eloquent that just throwing out the mother fucker bomb, but yesterday I lost my shit completely.
(For once it wasn't directed at the terrorists or Big Red)

There is a silver lining to this story though...one I'll pass on to the rest of my over charged friends...

So, Big Red has had a cold for the last 5 days and it just isn't getting better.  Yesterday, the diva terrorist woke up with a sore throat and a fever too.... I admitted defeat and took the day off and began scheduling appointments. (I won't even go into the nightmare it is to try and get same day appoints because that tangent will undoubtedly cause me to swear even more.)

This is sick big red hanging in there

Anyway, fast forward to 4:00PM yesterday.  Both girls are getting swabs jammed up their nose and we are preparing to hear that the flu test is negative and the usual:

 "Thanks for the $60 copay. It's just a cold and we don't give medicine for that anymore.   Call us back if the fever persists for more than 605 days or if it spikes so high you child has febrile seizures. Ooooh, don't forget this paper I printed you!! It recommends honey which you probably could have googled on your own.  Oh, and don't forget that $60 copay for my magical paper printing skills"

As a side note - if you're a doctor and I'm paying a copay to see you for the love of god give me a prescription of something!  Anything really. I saw a lady yesterday at Walgreen's who turned in a prescription for vitamin C pills or something for a cold.  Apparently they have special ones behind the counter that don't require a prescription you just have to ask for them specifically.   That doctor has it right!  He knew he was taking a fee for seeing that lady and essentially giving her nothing in return.  Instead of letting her leave feeling like she wasted her time and money he wrote on his little pad and gave her a tangible product in return for his fee.  She could have gotten the same thing without his prescription but when they told her that and gave her the pills she wasn't mad and didn't complain.  She just said, well at least I got a prescription this time....

But I digress...
Back to the girls and their booger tests.
This time they came back positive.

My first thought was "Woo Hoo!  I didn't come here for nothing"
which quickly switched to
"SON of A BITCH they live with me and they touch all of my stuff!  Oh hell...I think Lannie licked me yesterday.  Oh god she licks her brother even more.  Fuck, we're all getting the flu."

In an effort to condense this a little....they were both confirmed with the flu and we finally got some meds.  Big Red was too far gone for any flu therapy so she got codeine cough syrup (Thank you Jesus for codeine)  Tiny Terrorist and Boy Terrorist got Tamiflu which should greatly reduce Lannie's symptoms and prevent Boy Terrorist's all together.  It was a long but successful day up until this point.

Then came Walgreens.  I should have sensed the dread when I saw people in line and heard that the wait for IN STOCK meds was over 2 hours.

I took my spot in line and waited with the anticipation of a child waiting their turn to ride the summer's newest  roller coaster. Only when my turn came and that roller coaster car pulled up it was full of vomit and turds and one of the wheels had fallen off.

OK, not really, but that's what it felt like until the OHMIGOD WHAT THE FUCK feeling was replaced by a seething rage (that's what made me call that lady a mother fucker).

See, when I got to the line the pharmacist man took my script (the one for the codeine cough syrup - the Dr. had automatically called in the Tamiflu) and proceeded to do something with the computer then looked at me and said "Oh the two for Tamiflu are already ready - I'll just have them move this to the front and we'll get you out of here in about 10 minutes.  Do you have your insurance card? The tamiflu is kind of expensive, I want to make sure we get the right price"

"Well shit, I won the Walgreen's lottery" thought I, and I braced for a $50 or $60 bill for my meds (maybe even $80).  What I did not brace for was a FIVE HUNDRED and SIXTEEN FUCKING DOLLAR total for ONLY THE 2 prescriptions of Tamiflu.
(He said kind of expensive, not donate-your-fucking-kidney-expensive, which would have been much more appropriate and accurate.  Yes, I shared this bit of knowledge with him)
He did his best to help me- he tried pricing the Tamiflu in pill form (the DR. wrote the script for liquid because of their age) generic liquid, the generic capsules everything he could think of, but nothing came in under like $300.

At this point I'm not truly freaking out yet.  I'm still thinking something was entered wrong.  After a 2 calls to my insurance company and 30 minutes with the pharmacist I realized that in fact there was no error.  The insurance I pay almost a $1000 a month for "doesn't  recognize Tamiflu as a Preferred Med"  not because there is a cheaper alternative...because they don't recognize the generic as preferred either.

Just fucking because...that's why.  Seriously that was the answer the insurance lady gave me.  "Well we just don't have Tamiflu on out list"
What that means in my situation is that I first have to meet a $700 deductible per person then they will cover 85% of the cost.

That's when I lost my shit with the poor insurance lady.  It's all kind of fuzzy but I think at that point I asked her to explain what my $1000 dollars a month was for.  Who was the motherfucker who got to decide that my kid could just deal with the flue for 6 days instead of get a medication?   I also asked her how in the hell I was supposed to keep my job that provided their shitty insurance after the aforementioned 3 children got the flu consecutively and I had to say home for two weeks. Then I oh so eloquently asked her to find that person and give them a big fuck you from me and to send me their address so I could send my contagious kids to his house and he could handle them.  (She was actually very sorry she couldn't do anything or at least that's what her script had her say.  But at least she didn't hang up on me.

I got to press my hang up button all mean like and end the call on my terms....

I left the store furious, defeated and without the Tamiflu.
Even worse, I felt like a total failure as a parent because I had chosen not to give them medicine because of the cost.

When I go home I decided to do some research.  My intent was to look into mail order pharmacy out of the US.  (if you haven't ever looked into it it is an actual option.  It's much cheaper, but do your homework on the pharmacy first)

Anyway, I came across a website called WWW.GOODRX.COM.  (If you haven't used it or been there SAVE this link.  They even have an app - put it on your phone.)

This app gives you coupon with a GROUP, BIN & PCN number.  It allows the pharmacy to put it in like insurance and you get the reduced cost.  It can't be combined with  your insurance discount, but in this case the difference was astronomical.  I paid $58 per prescription.  I saved $200 dollars by not using my high priced already paid for insurance.  Pfft.....
(I did also have to go to the CDC website and get instructions for creating an oral suspension with the capsules and chocolate sauce - ask me if you ever need to know - It's safe and easy.)

So, I came out OK in all of this and I hope it helps you too if you ever need it.

Here are the cost differences from my plan's website and the Good RX coupon:

Brand Name Suspension WITH Insurance

Brand Name Pill WITH Insurance

Generic Capsule WITH Insurance

GoodRx Coupon cost with NO Insurance

Now here's my bitch:
We don't need more government insurance availability.  Not multiple government run and required plans.

What we need is an overhaul of the costs of care not the plans.  There's no reason why anyone (the pharmacy, the insurance carrier or ME) should pay $258 for a fucking pill that costs 80% less than that to make.  I have specialized meds that cost $28 THOUSAND dollars a month.  That's ONE shot a month.  My insurance covers a good portion of it , but my end cost is still like $5K a month.  Now the company that manufacturers the drug provides a prescription assistance card to anyone that requests it and has private insurance coverage.  That card magically covers the rest of the cost ($5K)

Tell me how in the world they can give that discount to everyone who applies if their cost isn't inflated by 900%.

Anyway, I'm getting off my soapbox now, but take a look at the website - I'll be checking that shit any time a med is over $15 with my insurance.

As a side note if there is a doctor out there that's willing to see me for $30 cash (same as my current co-pay) and write my prescriptions I'd be be interested in meeting you and being forever grateful (or baking you cookies or some shit).
Then I can dump the high priced ins. and get my scrips from GoodRX