About Me

Brooklyn, New York
I'm Jackie. I'm from LA, and I love my filthy, traffic congested, polluted city of fake dreams. But, alas, the brat that I am, I am bored. So I want to live somewhere with all that, but worse. I will head East to Brooklyn, NY. I am starting this blog so everyone that wants to share in my successes or scoff at my misfortune, can follow me and my adventures. Because if nothing else, there will be adventures. I hope you find my blog equally entertaining and offensive. I'm just getting back on the writing horse, so cut me some slack, if I still suck in a month, call me out on that shit.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Time to Fem Out

I usually try and refrain from speaking of the struggles of females, cuz well, that's what fucking Cosmo is for.  But, today I have encountered a few feminine obstacles.  I made the ever dreaded trip to Planned Parenthood.  In LA, this is more of a time wasting inconvenience, in NY, it is waiting in limbo hell to be systematically raped.  In order of arrival, of course.  


California, with all of its debt and flaws at least offers free reproductive care.  Free  birth control, pregnancy tests, STD screens, morning after pill, abortion consultation, etc.  Here, you  must jump through the flaming hoops of Medicaid approval.  I could not apply for free care without a birth certificate, social security card, proof of residence, AND a carefully worded letter from Bill stating that he is now financially responsible for me.  I brought all that, because I can follow instructions, and was told that I am still not eligible.  Um, what?  I am a young female with no fucking job, you want me to get knocked up? Is that it?  After quite a bit of persuasion, I was given a "sliding scale", which means I only had to pay $25 to see a damn Midwife.  I thought this included a lady exam and birth control.  Haha.  Yeah right.  $180 for an exam.  So what you are telling me Planned Parenthood of New York City is that not only do you want me to get knocked up, but you want me to be overflowing with syphilis and cancer? Neat-o.  Thanks for nothing.  I just don't understand how a booming city like NY can even think to not offer free birth control.  Instead they build the projects 90 stories high to house all the accidental children and syphilitic crackhead prostitutes.   Just sayin.  


Female obstacle 2 of the day is this new diet I'm forcing myself to do.  Some people don't like the term "diet", so to make you happy, I will refer to it as my "new lifestyle choice".  And by lifestyle choice, I mean, a choice to fit back into my fucking pants because I'm too broke to buy new ones.  I went to Trader Joe's and spent a good chunk of my remaining money on foreign and exotic foods.  Cucumbers, lettuce, asparagus, lean ground turkey meat, just to name a few.  Holy hell it is expensive to try and not be a fat ass.  Now I know why I was living off of Manwich and Mac and Cheese.  So not only am I having to buy foods that I never would have even thought to put in my mouth, but I have to fucking cook them.  MYSELF.  In a kitchen, with knives and fire, plus make them taste good.  Good grief.  I am not a very insecure person, and there isn't much I find to be outside the realm of being totally bad ass at, but I am going to go ahead and put cooking at the top of that list.  I just figured that in some primitive sense, I should just, you know, be good at it.  I am so insecure about it, that my first attempt at making something hasn't even finished its 2 hour simmer and I'm already convinced it sucks.


It took me a lifetime of chopping and browning and stirring and simmering and measuring before I could even leave it alone to do its thing, and now, after smelling it for 2 hours, I don't even want to eat it.  Is this how real life works? Is this why my grandma would spend all evening preparing something for my grandpa only to serve him and retire to her bedroom with a bowl of cereal? This shit is nuts.  It's fun because I have never done it (when not being specifically paid to do so), but a pain in the ass because I paid for all of it, and I have to eat it whether it comes out good or not. I find this part much harder than the actual diet.  I got up early(which means noon), made and ate my boring ass scrambled eggs and spinach, drank water, ate my measly Babybel cheese wheel for a snack, came home and had a proper salad, no problem.   But now I am here suffocating on chili fumes and wondering how many days worth the chili I'm gonna have to eat to feel like this shit was worth the time it took.  

This may not seem like a big deal to most people, but if you know me, you know that cooking and eating properly is like my equivalent of scaling Mt. Everest or some shit.  Something one puts on their list of things to do and swears they will do it someday, but don't.  Well folks, someday is here, and I am determined.  If this South Beach doctor guy has lied to me, I will be a fat ass forever, if not, I'll be fine as hell in a few weeks.  Time can only tell.  Good news though, according to Planned Parenthood, as of today I am 3 lbs lighter than I was 2 weeks ago.  If the anxiety from starting a diet can drop pounds, maybe the rest of this will be successful.

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