Uninsured.

I wrote this Letter to the Editor the other day–I know it’s not the greatest, and doesn’t talk about healthcare as “socialism” as seems to be the prerequisite for getting published anyplace. But as we’re dealing with the hijacking of healthcare reform by a loud and violent minority, and with a $40,000 surgery Nick needs now while uninsured, I wanted to get it up someplace. I don’t go into how massively doctors and medical providers overcharge, but maybe that’s for a different rant.

Gross. Achilles surgery.

America Deserves a Non-for-Profit, Public Health Care Option

Over 20% of the citizens in my Congressional District, North Carolina-7 which includes the city of Wilmington, are uninsured and yet my Representative receives more calls daily against a public health care option than in favor. Do these callers mention Medicare, the largest government run heath care plan in this nation? When our neighbors, our families, and we ourselves need affordable care, why is it just the voices of opposition that our local Congressman are hearing? We must stand together as neighbors and citizens and demand health care reform from our Congressmen, Senators, and President. I understand many of us who are in favor of health care reform and a public option are fatigued from the last Presidential election. We thought if we worked hard for our candidates, change would happen in one direction or another and we would be free to return to our normal lives. But without making calls to your Congressman or Senators, without talking to your neighbors, and without understanding how intimately this problem affects so many of your closest friends and family, absolutely nothing is going to change.

I recently moved from Brooklyn, NY to North Carolina, and found the problems our current health care system creates are not indigenous to one place. My parents in Pennsylvania are in their fifties, their retirement savings dwindled by the banking collapse, and still put in long hours of work with a black cloud looming above them—what if their health fades, an illness is discovered, an injury occurs? They just continue working, trying not to think about the high premiums they are paying for their insurance, hoping that it will cover their medications and preventative care, and that with luck and God’s help nothing terrible will happen. I see many Americans in my community who go about their day-to-day with that same black cloud trailing them, never fully comfortable or secure.

My husband and I moved to Wilmington so he could attend graduate school. I was able to extend my heath care coverage from my last position through COBRA, but with our current income and with high monthly premiums my husband declined his coverage to save money. Unfortunately, shortly after his coverage ended he severely injured himself. It is an injury that requires surgery, but thus far he had attempted to muddle through with affordable clinics. After two months on crutches, he finally relented and saw a specialist and requires surgery to reattach his Achilles tendon. It is estimated that the surgery will cost $40,000, mostly going to the hospital and the anesthesiologist–the doctor actually preforming the surgery is willing to only charge $2,550. We are working on everything possible to afford this, and worry that after paying for surgery he will be denied further treatment as a “pre-existing condition” once his student health care goes into effect in a few weeks. He simply wants to be able to walk again, to wake up without a swollen foot, and to go a day without pain.

What strikes me most is the effect the current health care system has on our entrepreneurial class. I have met at least three families in the last month who are attempting to make their way as small business owners in today’s economy, but now cannot afford the cost of heath care for themselves and their families. If they are able to find a plan they can afford, they are shocked to find what it does not cover. For example, only after finding out she was pregnant did one small business owner discover that her insurance no longer covered maternity care. It is sad when a growing family has the joy of having a baby dampened by the anxiety of whether they can afford the hospital bills. Half of all personal bankruptcies stem from medical expenses—we should not have to fear bankruptcy due to the birth of a child.

Above all, why are otherwise community-minded Americans fighting to deny their neighbors proper and affordable health care? Most people who need health care are hard-working men and women. Many are entrepreneurs and the very essence of the American Dream. No one benefits from working to prevent a public system being established similar to Medicare for all Americans—one that will be able to work collectively for better costs, better care, and less wasteful use of the money Americans are spending. What exactly would this type of system deny you?

We elect our public officials, but without our voices speaking up to tell them what we need there is a vacuum being filled by entities with only their best interests in mind. FDR openly acknowledged the effects of power and money on policy creation. To a group of reformers who approached him with ideas for New Deal programs he said,  “I agree with you, I want to do it, now make me do it.” Until we lead, we cannot expect our elected officials and leaders to follow. For yourself; for everyone without health care; for everyone working hard to pay high premiums for benefits that are not guaranteed: please call your Congressmen and Senators today, and tomorrow, and as often as possible to tell them we cannot support them unless they support reform and a public option.

Still unemployed, but in a new place!

It’s been a good long time since we last posted, and we are now settled in Wilmington, NC. In place of a grumbling post about not having a job, I will share with you a fun tour of our new apartment!

Now that’s entertainment!

Not much new over here on the sofa. We have seriously challenged car salespeople to deal with again today, and tomorrow we are going to a Pirates vs. Nationals game–GO PIRATES!!!!

In the meantime, I’ve added some fun new links to the blogroll and thought I’d share them a little more openly with ya’ll.

First, if yuo haven’t already visited Hark, A Vagrant or Fuck You Penguin, you should be ashamed of yourself. Hark is only the most savvy of historically-based cartoons ever. One of my old-school favs involves President Garfield eating lasagna. Seriously.

Fuck You, Penguin is just mean and funny. Anyone who dares to be as cute as these animals deserves a good smack-down.

Aside from those are Look At This Fucking Hipster, the site that runs around the L Train and other natural habitats of hipsters, snaps photos of them in the wild, and mocks some of the fashion.

Example:

"“Yo, dawg. Listen. Seriously, can I ask you a secret? Are you down for a threesome tonight? Because, no joke, both of you lookin’ fine as hell to me right now. And I’ve never been with two white girls before.”

There are many much more funny.Go visit. But yes, go play! Click the links, go read Husband? and Awkward Family Photos. You won’t be disappointed.

Baby, You Can Drive My Car

Yes, we are officially crunchy granola Obama Democrats. We bought a Prius.

Beep Beep! Don't make me drive you over in my electric car!

With the move out of Brooklyn and impending move to North Carolina, we were pretty certain we needed a car. Now Nick and I have never had a mutual car. He had his company car for a while which he used to haul books to B&Ns around the tri-state area and I loved for its Obama-placard box-hauling capacity. Then I got the Hooptie, aka The Iron Giant, aka The Caddy from my Dad–gold plated keys and all–for the campaign trip out to Colorado/Iowa (Sheila’s Hubby is keeping her well taken care of). One car was Nick’s, one was “mine.” This is OURS. So oddly adult of us.

So we had been looking for about a month online, doing the research on different car makes and models. We were pretty certain we were going to get something from Toyota or Honda. Sorry American-made cars, the ones in our price range were all turds. And you can put bling on a turd, but it still is a pile of shit, even with a MP3 hook-ups.

We got the 2009 Consumer Report guide on used cars and searched used models for sale in NC as well as around the DC area. Consumer Reports LOVES Priuses (Prii? Octopus, Octopi…). They claim pretty much nothing is wrong with any of them. They can be Ancient Evil Prii who are first generation hybrid technology, are mean to their mothers and attack woodland creatures and Consumer Reports would still say you should pay over $14 grand for it at the dealer. And that’s about where most dealers have them priced, if not for much, much more. So when last week, upon dropping me off at the Shady Grove Metro station, Nick spotted a gold 2005 Prius for sale at a Dodge dealer for under 11K he assumed something must be very, very wrong with it. We decided to check it out later anyway.

Funny thing was the Carfax on it was completely clean. In fact, the person who had it did the unthinkable–he maintained it regularly! Lots of check-ups, filter and oil changes. No accidents. No real dents or rust. Fairly new tires. He traded it in for a Mercedes the salesman told us. Hmm, right. It had a TON of miles on it–over 90K. “The guy who owned it before was local but a salesman and drove it all over, but see! (pointing to Carfax) He took care of it!” We took it for a spin.

Priuses/Prii are so fun! It’s horrible, I immediately was hooked on getting the computer to tell me I had the highest MPG in the history of Prius drivers. I want, “You Win!!” to flash and computer fireworks to explode on the touchscreen like on an old-school game of Windows Solitaire. The seats were comfy, the brakes were sensitive, the interior was clean.

We assumed something really bad must be wrong with this car.

We went and looked at other cars. Other dealers. Ford, Toyota, Honda, one of those car supermarket-like places. test drove a new blinged-out Focus and my legs sweat on the leather seats and it was cramped and the air-conditioner blew a small piece of timber into Nick’s eye while he was driving. Plus “Willy” the annoying salesman would NOT SHUT UP from the backseat about how we should buy American. Well you know what Willy? 1) Lot’s of foreign cars are assembled in the USA. 2) Lots of domestic cars SUCK. End of story. I want something that will last for 200,000 miles and get good gas mileage. Is that too much to ask?

You can hardly see me, but I'm there! The other picture we have makes me look stupid.

We drove some Corollas, Camery, etc. We could pay about the same as the Prius, but for a 2002 Corolla with hardly any miles and manual windows. We went home and thought about it, talked it over with Nick’s parents who seemed fine with the high mileage of the Prius. Next day we called the dealer and pretended we were new people interested in the car. The salesman stuck to his story about the trade-in and said the only reason the price was low is that it had started higher but was on the lot for over 60 days and they wanted to move it. Even used “the nice couple who was here yesterday and saw it on their way to the Metro” as an example of the interest in the car. Nick’s Dad offered to come find fault in the car later that same day, but he seemed surprised it was in such good condition.

So we decided to do it. After a day of taking it to a Toyota dealership for a checkup (get new wipers and air filters–which are BRAND NEW already), figuring out how to tag & title it, and how to get insurance, which was complicated:

“um, yea, my license is from Pennsylvania, his is from New York. We are living in Maryland FOR NOW, but will be moving to North Carolina in a month. Insurance? Um, not yet…”

…and Nick’s parents being AWESOME and helpful, we drove our little gold Prius home and it’s sitting in the driveway.

I do not know what the little black square button the the door handle does yet. I do not know how to reset the radio channels, or what those buttons on the rear-view mirror do yet. I am currently sitting here waiting to read through the manual. I do know, thanks to the Internet, that one should never put clay sculptures near the touchscreen, and not to freak out if the battery drains.

I’ll let you all know when something awful happens or when the car turns out to be an Impala in a Prius veneer. But right now, I just feel like a little kid with a cool new toy.

Vroom!

The Wonders of Wilmington

Once upon a time (otherwise known as four weeks ago), I was starting my job search for the DC area. It was exciting to think I could work in Washington, perhaps with campaign friends on something new and exciting. I was looking at green energy and sustainability organizations, and managed with the help of some excellent friends to get contacts and set up some meetings.

With Nick’s acceptance into UNCW, after the dancing and jumping around, came a day or two of dawning realization that those meetings were no longer needed in DC and I switched my efforts over to learning about North Carolina and what opportunities it may bring.

What I first found out is that North Carolina has the fourth (sometime fifth, depending on your source) highest unemployment rate in the country right now, just behind Michigan, South Carolina, and Oregon. I would have a better chance at a job if I was in the Marines, sadly I don’t think they’d take an asthmatic, broken-footed freak like myself. In hopes that networking would help, a wonderful old Obama volunteer of mine hooked me up with some contacts of his with North Carolina contacts, and so forth, and so on. It seems, however, that Wilmington lies outside of the Research Triangle of progressive organizations, a trade-off it made long ago before there was a research Triangle, setting up shop as a bustling cotton port town on the beach, the “Last Confederate Stronghold” of the Glorious South.” “Yikes,” is what I thought upon reading that one. Double yikes was the city’s other historic claim to fame, the “Coup D’Etat and the Massacre of 1898,” some awful white supremacist uprising in the late 1800s that killed unknown amounts of African Americans and drove most of the rest out of town. Hmm. Off topic, but made me aware that though I grew up in a pretty racist part of Pennsylvania, it was still the North, and we were headed to a whole new world with this move.

As the future breadwinner for family Dula-Miller in Wilmington, I am trying to get as many contacts there as possible. I set up a meeting with the Legislative Director for the Congressman from Wilmington’s district, a conservative Democrat. I have reached out to some folks with University connections and was informed the state’s budget cuts (the have a $102.7 billion budget shortfall in the current year and are projected to face an additional $121 billion in shortfalls for the fiscal year that begins in July) have set a 9 month hiring freeze into action. I’m hoping something–anything–comes up. I’d love to do OFA 2.0, but they are probably not hot on having a Field Director running the state outside of the Triangle.

I also love all the New York City and DC job lists I am currently on, loaded with opportunities. But you know what? I see this as a fun challenge. I will defy the world and find a job I love in Wilmington, North Carolina!!!!! We went down there last week for an impromptu sightseeing tour and to meet some students and professors. The drive there was lovely, straight on I-95 until you hit 40 West. I met some “MFA wives,” those who came to Wilmington from Philly or Raleigh or other cities along with their significant others, who informed me upon my inquiry into their job-hunting experience that I should “focus on lifestyle, not on career, because [I'll] be disappointed if I’m looking for career.”  I will only believe that once I am thoroughly beaten and battered by this place. I cannot go back to a job that does not require me to think. I refuse. I will just start my own organization there if I have to. A warning to all you friends with grant-writing experience in advance: I may come looking for your help in exchange for a room in our beach house.

The town itself was all southern architectural charm in the historic part of town. Our first evening there we were thrilled to find a great Thai food place, Indochine, with an awesome outdoor garden where diners each got their own pagoda. Sadly, the prices were more New York than we expected, but the food was delicious.

Indochine!

Our walk downtown made us uneasy that evening. Most shops closed at 6pm, were closed on Sunday as well which is quite a change from Brooklyn. The few people out on Front Street gawked at us, I’m not sure whether it was because we were unknown or if it was two blondes with short hair together holding hands. I got the feeling someone may want to certify my boobs were real, that we weren’t actually a gay couple. I felt slightly unsafe, and mad at myself for feeling that way.

Downtown was still very cute, with fun looking bars and resaurants, a little Italian food store, ice cream parlor and plenty of outdoor seating. Two police officers trotted down the cobblestone street next to the Riverwalk on horses. The view of the river was beautiful, as the sun set behind USS North Carolina.

Still, no one of color was seen with a white person. It was like watching two universes that existed side-by-side but never interacted. It reminded me of ghost stories, the kind where the ghosts don’t realize they aren’t alive and just go about their business as usual, though which set of people are the ghosts in this metaphor is tough to say. Back at the hotel we told each other tomorrow would be better.

Thursday began with a trip to Dunkin Donuts using an old gift card I found from campaign days which happily still had cash on it–thanks Obama! We went out to the campus, checked out the student union, wandered the wooded grounds. Nick met with some professors, and I accompanied him on one and immediately liked the guy. That evening we went to the last student reading of the year and were so happy to meet so many nice people. I noticed there was only one non-white person there, though she appeared Indian. Different. It was definitely a better day, and though the other students and friends assured me that finding a job there sucked, they assured me it could be done and we would manage to get by. We were also reassured that no, we were not wrong about the weird vibe in town. It was definitely there, you just get used to it apparently. We were warned against the military folks who often partied in town, which I found strange because I come from a family pretty involved in the military–in fact, my uncle lives on the Marine base just north of Wilmington and I know his sons come hang out in Wilmington. There are so many strange biases in this world. Military Haircuts scare the Hipster Writers, the Hipster Writers probably bring out the High School bully in the Military Haircuts. The experience did make me consider growing my hair back out. That, and the fact I wouldn’t know where to get a good haircut down there for a while (thanks to Molly for bringing that point up before I left NYC).

Part of me wants to assimilate down there, to become some spunky, stereotypical Southern Lady ala Fried Green Tomatos or Steel Magnolias. I know that wanting to assimilate will not mean that the folks down there will let me in the club, though. Plus,  I like fighting for gay marriage and the end of racial profiling. I believe in global warming! I am an Obama Democrat! I look forward to being an agitator down there, and I just hope I can find that in a paid position.

Moved

As of April 19th, we were no longer Brooklynites.

Traumatic. Well, it feels more traumatic now than it did at the time, actually. We were just trying to get through all the cleaning, the dust-bunny round-up, the figuring out what box to put the coffee-press into because we thought we couldn’t live without it, and trying not to slip on the hardwood floors that got second-hand Pledged while cleaning the bookshelves and quickly became safety hazards. Do NOT Pledge your hardwood floors and try to wear socks unless you are throwing some sort of do-it-yourself ice skating party in your house with lots of liability insurance.

Thanks to Maggie & TS and Christy who all suggested having a “Moving Party” to haul our crap down the two flights to the UHaul, we managed to save my aging Dad any injury. Sean G. was a superhero and managed to get it all into the UHaul that appeared way too small first thing that morning. We got all the boxes down before anyone else even showed up.

No one shirked helping, and we even got offers from a cute elerly Spanish speaking man who was concerned upon seeing Maggie, Christy, Sarah and I by the truck that we didn’t have any “muchachos” to help us. I love New York.

We had the truck nearly packed by the time we took our pizza and beer break on the sidewalk. All in all, about 8 people came & helped–Maggie, Christy, TS, Sarah, Edward, Tascha, Jason, and Sean.

One last night in our empty house. Sean G took 2 of the kitties to pass off to Nick’s Dad in Philly. Pynchon remained because he is the evil genius, knew something was up, and hid in the crawl space under the stairs so we couldn’t catch him to send with Sean. All night he walked around like the only child he wanted to be. When we finally had them all reunited in Nick’s parent’s basement, he just hissed at everyone, mourning the loss of his status. What a psycho.

We got settled here in Germantown, MD. Staying with Nick’s family is really nice for now. It let’s us save rent money for when we get to Wilmington. It is a bit stressful planning to move again, not being able to settle into where we are now. It’s also strange catching movies on TeeVee set in NYC and thinking, “Wait a sec, that’s my home. Where the hell am I?”

All in all, it’s been pretty painless so far. The kitties are in the basement in the bastardized version of our apartment we set up down here with the love seat, ottoman, TV and lamp. We spend as much time as we can down here to keep them company and prevent them from going Lord of the Flies on us, reverting back to some unsocialized survival of the fittest. They’ve stopped climbing into the rafters as much.

We took a trip down to North Carolina last week, capped with a last minute trip to Wilkes-Barre for my Grandmother’s funeral. More to share about that next post.

Moving!

Lord, this is the weekend. Our apartment looks slightly refugee camp-meets-McKibbon Dorms. We have an overwhelming amount of liquor we don’t want.

I can’t believe we’ve been here almost 5 years and are leaving. Our apartment is really home to Nick and me. We keep reminiscing about all the things we’ve done here. The times when the hot water/heat have gone out. The time the POWER went out and we had to plug the fridge into a giant electric cord that ran into the other room and went out for Chinese. The time I thought it would be a great idea to hook a hose up to the faucet and try to water my plants on the roof–gravity won. BBQs, Christmas Parties, fighting, making up, 4th of July, Christmas trees up till February, jackhammering construction outside the bedroom window; “Casty,” “The Transvestite,”  and the prostitute problem. The time a car hit the building. Villa Mia Pizza, who knew us and would give us random coupons and discounts. Cheap laundry. The guy next door who helped us move in, and seems to have fallen back off the wagon. Fireworks every time we needed them.  Flowers on the “balcony” and roof. My trees–street and roof. Cats running everywhere. Taj Mahal carpeting. Fun landlord Christmas party. Birds on the roof. The sunshade. Watching a really different neighborhood slowly become”Park Slope.” Faux Slope for Obama meetings on the roof, and Nick dragging the big folding table down to Pathmark for me to register voters. I love it here. I wish I could take this place with me, as well as all my amazing New York friends who i never knew I’d be so attached to. My SPIers–Maggie, Mel, Adam, Tammi. Who would have thought we would be where we all are today 5 year ago? Time Warner & Random House–Monica, Becky, Heather, Carol. I love you Mon, and I still need a top to my sari for your eventual wedding–ahem, Hi Mahesh! Bloomsbury! Kate, i love you so much. Rachel, Katie, Diana everyone! Da(y)ve haha, TS, Edward, Tascha, Molly, Carlos, Jordan, Andrew, Dan. I LOVE YOU NEW YORK. Surprise, surprise :)

The end is neigh. People are married (even me), people are in new jobs, new careers, new friends, new lovers. I really look back over 5 years and feel both older, and younger than ever.

The cats are freaked out, but are chilling in the cat carriers, I think just to hide from the mess. We’re looking to get at least a 2 bedroom place in North Carolina, so we want to invite you lovely friends to come visit us. Hopefully we’ll have a 3 bedroom place, but who cares? I may get a house!! Yard, dirt!

So much to still do–three more ceiling fans, another bathroom, the floors, the counters. I feel very blessed to have had this time here, and to have made so many great friends, to have had so many great experiences.