This time, baby, I'll be bulletproof

Okay, now that I'm a little more composed and not ranting about the unfortunate screwup with my doctor's office, I can tell the story of Josh and the random dance party on Saturday.

Several friends and I went out to dinner at a French restaurant in the city this past Saturday. (The food was good, but my stomach is NOT used to French cooking... Cream and butter and cheese sound delicious together, but I couldn't even finish half of my plate because it was so heavy.) We stopped at another bar after dinner – it was kind of a, "This place looks chill, and it just started raining, so let's go here!" decision.

The gist of the story goes: there was a party in a large room upstairs next to the bathroom. I asked a girl in the bathroom what was going on, and she goes, "It's so-and-so's going away party! You should totally come! Bring your friends!" (You know, typical drunk bathroom conversation.) I told her we might check it out later (polite answer, considering there was NO ONE there and we'd stick out like sore thumbs. I told my friends about the party and random invitation, saying the DJ up there was amazing, but it was empty as hell.

In meantime we drank for another 90 minutes before deciding to move on. One of my friends urged me to go back upstairs to see if the party had gotten any better, so I bravely did another bathroom run.

The party was now ROCKIN'. Tons of people there, lots of dancing, etc. As I made my way through the room to head back downstairs, who do I see? Josh. Oh, SHIT.

He spots me and I chat with him for about a minute before being interrupted by some girls to grab him and his friends for a photo. Once they were done, one of the girls starts immediately talking to him, and I'm still standing there like a total idiot. After about 20 seconds of this, I realized he was clearly more engrossed in her than continuing to talk to me, so I tap him on the shoulder and tell him I'm going back downstairs to my friends.

Now, is it just me, or was that rude of him? I didn't know anyone there, we were having a conversation until it was interrupted by photo time, and he lets some girl cut in. Either they both were just too sloshed to realize I was standing there (hard to do since I was taller than everyone within a 5 foot radius), or he's a dick.

I told my friends about the now-bumpin' party and the awkward run-in with Josh. Since we were all very buzzed and dying to go dancing (especially my best friend), we decided to scope it out. Hey, we had an invite, why the hell not?

We head upstairs and my friends and I hit the dance floor. Holy shit, it was SO MUCH FUN. The DJ was great, the people around us were having a fantastic time, we were dancing like crazy... and turns out we weren't the only party crashers there, so it was all cool. (And Josh wasn't even near us, so I didn't feel awkward.) Seriously, we were having a complete blast.

And then, as I'm jumping up and down to Katy Perry, I look over to my right and see Josh making out with some chick.

Me:

The funny part was, I didn't really care. I mean, yeah, it blows because I thought Josh was cute, but to glance over and see him sucking some girl's face off at a GOING AWAY PARTY seems kinds tacky. First off, you're 30. This is not a Miami dance club or a fraternity house basement. The hostess is moving across the country, and you're grinding and making out with some chick? Gross.

I think if this happened 10 years ago when I was still in college, I'd be shell-shocked and it would have ruined the rest of my night. But instead, I just turned around and kept dancing and having the time of my life with my friends. I think it just goes to show that if you have the right people with you, it makes all the difference. Also, it made me realize that Josh is a player who only cares about getting ass.

My only regret is giving him the courtesy of saying goodbye when we left about 30 minutes later. I should have just walked out of there without saying anything, because he really didn't deserve another 5 seconds of my time.

All my friends were talking about the party for days afterwards because they had so much fun dancing. In the end, that's what matters!

Sometimes you just got to show how you feel

It's weird how a somewhat good day can turn right on its head into an ugly one with a phone call.

Long story short(ish), a few weeks ago I made a last minute decision to fly to Europe to see my grandmother, who I haven't seen since she left the U.S. about 6 years ago. She's getting up there in years, and my parents were already going, so this was an opportune time to go.

The only issue was that I had a major sports-related appointment in the middle of their trip. I couldn't move the appointment any earlier, but there was an opening the day after I came back. However, that was also the day I was scheduled for minor eye surgery (not Lasix :)), and to try and do the two on the same day was too much to handle, especially after flying back from Europe the night before. After much hemming and hawing, I decided to fly out right after my appointment on Friday, then come back the next Wednesday with my parents (which coincided well with my Thursday eye surgery, so they could pick me up after it was over).

Well, today I get a voicemail from my doctor's office, saying they hadn't received the new photos of my eye needed to get the pre-approval from my insurance company for the procedure. I was confused, because I had sent the photos almost two weeks ago. I called the office and told them that, and the receptionist told me the nurse I'd emailed them to never received them. As a result, I'd have to change my surgery date because they couldn't get the pre-approval in time for next Thursday's and wait another MONTH to have it done.

I was pissed. I had specifically built my travel plans around this damn surgery, only to have the doctor's office screw up. One would think if they hadn't gotten the photos I'd promised to send when they reminded me on July 22nd, they would have called! But I did send them, on July 24th, and now I'm being told they were never received. (Maybe, just maybe, if your office had its own email address and you weren't relying on someone's personal account, we wouldn't have had this issue!)

I forwarded the original message back to her and told her to check the email again. I was so upset that I hung up the phone and started crying at my desk because a) all that stressing/planning was for absolutely nothing, and b) now I'm going to have stitches in my eyelid right in the middle of competition season, which fucking sucks. I'm still furious, because I have the original email that clearly has the two photos, and it was sent with plenty of time to process the pre-approval. It was THEIR mistake, not mine, although obviously I should have called and confirmed they'd received them, since they didn't let me know they hadn't. (Since I had sent/received email from them before, there's no reason why it would get "lost" or sent to the spam folder.)

Jeez. I'm sorry for the two negative posts in a row, but I hate, hate, hate it when crap like this happens. I specifically told work that I'd take a sick day for the surgery, but now that I'm going to be home, there's no sense in me not going into work, since I have the world's worst vacation accrual policy and the three days I'm taking in Sweden are 25% of my current vacation allotment. (Meanwhile, I get to listen to my cubiclemate prepare fun work international travel plans and get twice as much vacation because of the comp time she receives while on travel.) It's annoying because if my sick leave were just PTO, I'd have oodles of vacation time. (I swear, sick leave is discriminatory towards single, healthy people without kids.)

Stop being upset over nothing, self. You didn't cry when you saw Josh making out with some chick at a dance party this past Saturday (story for another time), why should something like this cue the waterworks?





Post title song reference: "You're So Real" - Matchbox 20