Blogging Under The Influence

I’m not confident that blogging after downing a half bottle of cabernet sauvignon is the best decision I’ve made however it is certainly not the worst (side note I just made a ziti hero, now THAT may reveal itself as NOT a good idea). I am certain however that my usually spotty at best editing skills will be extremely marginalized, my word choices will undoubtedly be reduced to the vocab of a brainy 7th grader and subject matter that would normally be excluded to save myself (and others) from life ending embarrassment will somehow magically remain upon my page. Let’s DO this!

As the summer comes slowing winding down I am reminded that in just 2.5 months time I will be rockin’ in my 40’s. That is such a freaking mind fuck . 40, I’m turning 40. I feel like Samantha in “16 Candles” when she wakes up on her 16th birthday expecting that EVERYTHING will be different yet quickly discovers that nothing has changed. I am confident that on Nov. 22nd 2010 I will be the same BUT there is something mysterious and awesome about the 40, there is weight to the 40, significance to the 40.

With 40 on deck and my health insurance re-instated I decided to finally schedule all those pesky appointments that the G in her 30’s disregarded. First up, find a new GP and get a full medical exam and physical – check! Side note - native Spanish speakers find my name impossible to pronounce which became extremely apparent, and frustrating for the receptionists, when they repeatedly yelled “Gay?, GAY?” through their sliding glass window when they required my health insurance ID. Even though I was the only patient in the waiting room I totally ignored their calls for attention for I was fully engaged in the novella on the giant flat screen suspended directly over my head.

My new GP is great however when did I get so old that it is possible for my doctor to be YOUNGER than me? The chick Dr. looked 27, can that even be legal? Maybe she is one of those prodigies who began med school at 14, yeah let’s go with that. During the exam we disused my self diagnosed loss of hearing in my left ear, the growth on my head (that I swear is an alien slowing nursing off my gray matter), and my family’s cancer history. 1.5 hours later I was out on the sundrenched streets of Woodside with my sweaty fist clenched ‘round referrals for a dermatologist, audiologist, gynecologist, a chest x-ray, and a mammogram. Kiss my ass 40… here I COME!