Before reading, please keep in mind: "Cristina" was the 437th most common name out of 4275, according to the United States Census Bureau. I could be talking about ANY Cristina, here.

I was friends with a woman named Cristina before she went ballistic. She then [in a HIPAA violation] contacted the biological sister with whom I have not spoken since the summer of 2001 (because she took the side of her husband, who stole from my parents' retirement money). *S*, the bio-sister, claims to be brilliant but she's stupid if she thinks that that conversation stayed private and that it didn't make its rounds in cyberspace!.

Unfortunately, I cannot drop this: Cristina has also contacted some of our two dozen or so mutual friends and, it seems, says that I threatened them/you. If you have heard from her, would you please let me know.

For the record:

I have never been required to go to therapy for a job, nor has my family ever required me to go to therapy. My insurance hasn't covered my therapists; I've paid out of pocket. THEREFORE despite what *S* has said:

• I don't lie to my therapists; what's the point if it's only for my treatment?
  
• If I don't like what a therapist says, I'll argue and either concede or dissent. I don't switch shrinks. (I *DID* switch about 18 months ago; I didn't like that the doctor said my pain is "dramatic." The most recent doctor believes that chronic pain is actually a big part of why I've got depression.)
  
• I do not "scare away" *S*'s friends; her husband has. Hell, the only one of our old mutual friends with whom I don't speak is one who shit-talked *S* (and I went to her defense like an idiot).
  
• Despite what she has blogged, she never had to suffer because my mom said that she had to give in to me. (it was the other way around; she was the good kid. However, I got over it.) She must worship Jan Brady.
  
• If I hear one more time that *S* doesn't have clinical depression, that she doesn't need serious treatment, that her problem is that she's psychic and picking up other people's bad vibes, I'll scream like I haven't screamed since I got into therapy.
  
• *S* has no business putting my dad's problems up for sympathy. She didn't visit him the last three times he was in the hospital. "Oh, I could run into Rebekah" (when I was in Los Angeles for three days of the month he was in post-illness care). "Oh, I'm sick and subject to MRSAs." (So am I, and so am I.) It's not a contest. She should be there, though, if *S*'s going to use him as an excuse. (She does that a lot. She skipped her homework one night, but then told half the school how she couldn't do it because I was dramatically ill. Yeah, I WAS dramatically ill, but she'd already skipped the homework and gone to bed. She's also quoted "Go Ask Alice" with me being the protagonist.)
  

This is why I chose JENNIFER to be my sister. She's blunt and sometimes crude, but she does not lie. Fuck sisterly DNA.

(our poor mom)

the state's program is based on salary and not how sick one is, so i figured i'd be denied. this was the guy - the commissioner - who put his head in his hands and said to the worker assigned to me, "isn't there something we can do for this poor girl?"

social security isn't accepting "fibromyalgia" as a reason that i can't work. there was also a comment that my mental health is fine, which must have come from my former psychiatrist. (didn't she pay attention to anything i said??)

i've got a call in to an attorney whose name i got in the waiting room at the pain center. the patient to whom i spoke claims that she never loses. i left that on the voicemail.

i'm miserable. i'm feeling - even as i sit here, at my desk, with pains in my right knee (which almost never hurts anymore), the joints in my fingers, my neck, my lower back, that i've managed to lie to myself and to my doctors, that i'm one hell of an actress. i forgot, over the weekend of sulking, how much i used to enjoy writing, how i used to post daily, how i'd managed, without advertising, to make Modified News popular enough to pay for itself, though not for any of its other expenses, and how the mere act of moving my laptop from its resting place into my lap is... too much trouble because it's too heavy. (it hurts my hands to hold a paperback open.) i'd forgotten how much i used to love to drive, and how now i don't want to go farther than the doctors' or the supermarket. this is what the Government is telling me - that i'm a faker - and i'm supposed to believe it. (i'd even forgotten how much i distrust the government, these days!) thanks a lot.

what really galls me is that if i'd been irresponsible, if i'd gotten knocked up while unmarried, i could have gotten State with no questions. if 'd stopped working and had lied to my doctors, just a little bit, had just laid it on a little thick, i could have been written out of work permanently instead of trying to get in a few more years before my condition deteriorates. (i have a LOT of friends with fibromyalgia, and with worse problems. while i'm healthier than they are, now, i can honestly feel myself deteriorating, and doubt that i've got ten years left in the work force.)

i'm really pissed that they're making me feel this way. i'm also pissed that my pain is rubbing off on my mom. it WILL pass, and i'll be more cheerful and won't drag down my mom anymore, i hope.

sigh. i'm at work. my boss is out and, with the exception of some phone calls, my work is done. i guess i'll use this opportunity to clean out my gmail inbox. if i owe you an email, i'm sorry; it got out of control when my dad was sick last summer and i haven't been able to catch up. and there are more every day... (there are over 300 emails that seem to NOT be spam...)

(there is a cat on my car! it is trying to get in via the open sunroof. i'm glad i didn't open it in moon-roof mode...)

it was NOT a good day. Mom had gone to bed last night - before NUMB3RS
(math + jewish protagonists = teh win for teh Mom) because she felt woozy. she called to me, sick, from the bathroom this morning. we think that she's getting used to looking through two eyes but, bottom line, i've given her antihistemines and she's been on the couch 'round the clock, almost. (she took a short break to go online.)

the newspaper wasn't here this morning. dad "can't" begin his morning treatment without the comics to keep him quiet for half an hour. there's a newspaper box three blocks from the house. (it's on the corner where a drunk driver totaled my mom's car, while i was behind the wheel, which is why i have legal entitlement to a handicapped parking card. something about having half a kneecap surgically shaved off can make walking difficult when the air is damp. like it is today. but i digress.) when i used to have coffee every sunday with NiceGuy, i talked to the poor (financially) woman who sold newspapers, and bought her coffee. she told me that they got mere pennies for each paper they sell. i went down to the beach and bought a paper from the guy who sells by dunkin. he's out there, no matter what the weather is, and the paper still gives him his few coppers.

it would have been a nice trike ride had it not been pouring. that said, blohm was flooded. i floored it because i misjudged the depth, and got my power steering wet. (the left turn a block up required my turning, backing up, turning more, etc.)

and i'm still upset about the social security appointment. if i don't get it, destitution continues. if i do get it, then even the government believes i'm really sick. (that still won't shut up the witch who has said that i'm only "sick" to steal attention, but, whatever. no offense to real witches. she's a wannabe.)

vee spent a few hours on floyd. we googled the errors. it took two of us: she could ping an IP, and type the numbers into the bars, but that was it. she couldn't click on a link. she couldn't open a bookmark. she couldn't figure out why i could get online on the other computer on the other end of the router cable. she did winsock fixes. she tried to reinstall my network software. she tried a system restore that wouldn't work. she did fix after fix. bottom line is that i need to back up my songs, my photos, my files, and .. well i guess that's it...because i can't back up programs. (i've lost the programs that were one-day-only on giveawayoftheday.com too.) i can't transfer the files to web space, either, since i don't think i can get online. (i'll TRY that.) and then... clean reinstall. i'm sick over this; i've never had to do it before. i've had floyd since the last RI Suscon / since the week after my right hand was operated on. 2005.

it's not a good day.

but i'm warm and dry. i didn't crash my car, like so many others have today.

i can do the backup and reinstall on my own time.

it could have been worse.

did i mention that i ache?

today was my appeal at social security. i was a vision in turquoise. over olive drab BVDs i wore a sleeveless mock turtle and long matching cardi-sweater, a turquoise (slightly more blue than the outfit) messenger bag, a quilted coat (slightly more green than blue) that i found in our closet. sneakers (orthodics). and my opal bling from The Godfather.

in the car en route i abruptly switched the country station to metal, so i could hear my dear old (he gets younger but we've known each other since 1987) friend Kennedy sing to me

Mother, say a prayer for me / A message of hope to the faith you believe in

and, later

Wanna be the blood / That makes your heart beat in time with mine

because it's familiar, and reminds me of better times. when i could stay out all night without falling asleep, when i could go out without worrying about which medical bill won't be paid because of what i spent on gas. when i was healthy.

and pretty. i realized it's been over two years since i've had a date. (i looked good today.)

park, walk to the building, get searched (it's a federal building), take the elevator, take a number. wonder how hard it is for healthy people to get a job there. wait to be called, to be told to sit at the other end of the room. noticed that they tried to make the room look nice, but the chairs were chained to the wall.

get called in.

the paperwork told me to bring nothing but a bank statement, but i'd prepared a 51-page list of medical bills (and printouts from my bank statements), who the doctors are and why i see them, and what the tests were and why i needed them. (for example, $148 to a "tox" company - that's for my random urine test for the pain center, to make sure i'm taking my meds but not taking "street drugs.") the woman needed to go over all my medical bills, so i'm glad i brought it.

the booklet was the kind of thing i did at yale. a thing of beauty.

she wasn't impressed - even with the table of contents.

i can tell you that MAC Liquidlast stood the test... when the woman told me that i can't apply for medical benefits for another two years unless I have ALS. i burst into tears, and couldn't help myself: "i can't do this for another two years!" she didn't even offer me a tissue (and later, when i got up to stretch, i saw a box by her mouse pad). my mom says it would figure.

they don't count health insurance because "everyone has health insurance." nevermind that i need to give up over 88% of two full weeks' paychecks to pay for it. "well," she said, "even if you didn't have this [condition], you'd still have health insurance." well, yeah, because i'd have a job that offered it because i'd be able to work full time. hello, most people do not have health insurance. "well, they should." end of topic.

i'll hear around january.

in the meantime, i'll attempt to apply to the State for medical assistance - which is all i'm looking for. just some help to get back what i'm paying for health insurance. so far, including the health insurance (i'll damn well count it, since i have to pay for it), i've spent 127% of my salary this year on medical expenses. good trick, huh?

i was there for almost three hours. she wasn't done but was mad that her appointments were piling up. (and to think, i wasn't told to bring my medical stuff; i could still be there!) she said, "get out of here." i shit you not. i did say, "what happened to, 'have a nice weekend'?" she said she'd finish the forms later (i hope that she does it soon so my application doesn't sit.) i suppose i need to send her a thank you note :(

$8 to park. i've got to go downtown one day when no one is there, so i can pull up to a handicrapped spot and see what payment i can use for the meter. (coins? do i need a voucher? do i need to get that debit-swipe thing?) but not tomorrow.

i almost went to cash my paycheck while i was downtown, but didn't want to run up the parking garage any more than i had to. i went to the branch in waste haven before i went back to work. wtf? - what kind of bank closes at 3:00 on friday? (my bank cashed it. i'll have to deposit my mom's share - for said health insurance - tomorrow.)

i have a splitting headache. i think it's time for soup and excedrin.

vee, thank the heavens above, is coming over tomorrow to work on my laptop connection.

mom and i accomplished a lot more than i thought we would, today, considering that yesterday was a bad pain day for me, with the rain, and the pain still hasn't finished winding down. (i'm telling ya, roland and coinneach in the desert are looking like better and better hosts/apartment finding assistants...)

mom's second cataract surgery is monday, so we needed to stock up on groceries. i hate like hell making "an ol' lady," as she sometimes refers to herself, do all the heavy lifting.

we began at staples; the only way i'll find my ethernet cable is to replace it. i also got a blotter-style calendar for work (our catalog has them for about triple the price, though everything else has been cheaper, with this vendor), and a replacement mouse for my desktop. (my wonderful microsoft mouse has lasted through three or four boyfriends, but has been dying mid-session.) we stocked up on staples (no pun intended) at the market, and then came home.

while we were finishing up at the store, my boss called because he needed some blank forms to be signed by clients tomorrow so that they can be fax-filed on Monday. i rode the trike to the office and home: just over two miles, but my legs have been achey since yesterday.

i also finished sholom aleichem's the great fair. mom will enjoy it when her second eye has healed! beyond that, i didn't do much else. i'll have to do laundry tonight, since tomorrow is amee's non-surprise bridal shower and i won't have time. (it's going to be a sunny, low-pain day)

OH: Mona, the amazing massage therapist, now has an office in the West Haven Center. if you want to make an appointment, let me know and i'll give the location and number (i'm not posting them!) - you won't be sorry. i am definitely going after my social security hearing... and, maybe before, because i haven't had a massage since june 23 (that can't be right, can it???) and i'm dying here. that's going to mean that i can list her on my social security expenses, but that they're not going to care (it's not within their time frame). GRR.

incidentally... i need to get into the social security system so i can apply for health insurance assistance. those people don't talk to anyone who's not on social security. i hate that. i also hate that it seems like i'd have an easier time if i were lying. i keep hearing that, as well as that it wouldn't be a bad idea to stop my other non-pain meds and let them see what i'm like. (i just can't do that to my family.)

thom had mentioned rudy's tonight, but he hasn't responded to emails. i hope they have fun.