Have you ever wanted to something even you think is outrageous–but fun–even though you’re pretty sure you’d end up in all sorts of trouble if you did it? Have you ever gone ahead and done it anyway?
Our health insurance plan has recently changed hands–I think that’s the case. Since doing so, the new provider has issued us three cards. The first card named our primary as the one we used to have and who has retired. The second card gave our primary correctly. Then, out of the blue, came the third card which listed a totally unknown doctor as our primary.
Each time the mistake was made, my husband called the provider for both of us. Each time, he was told I had to ask for a change to the mistake on my card myself. The change request is legitimate and based on provider error. Each time, the provider–a voice on the telephone–starts the process with, “Are you Elizabeth _____?”
When it happened again today, I thought, what if I said, “No, I’m the girl-friend. We buried Lizbeth under the apple tree in the back yard about a week or so ago.”
What would the anonymous voice do? How can an anonymous voice prove anything?
You would probably not even ruffle feathers. They would insist on talking to the dead you
I stick my foot in my mouth all the time. At almost 50 I still get into trouble with my temper and mouth. Those around me tend to groan loudly when they say they see my eyes change.
You’re probably both right! There are times when I itch to break out of the box!
I tried it the other night. We were invited by a neighbor to meet our new next-door neighbors. I’m terrible at chit-chat, small talk, cocktail party inanities–I’ve always been. So I compiled a list of subjects to interject into the conversation, some of which were non-pc, like “How did you vote in the last election, D/R or I?” and some of which were things I’m really interested in–“Do you think our environment now has been so changed by technology, we can no longer live as people lived even 200 yrs ago?” (We’re not invited to too many cocktail parties, lol)
Believe it or not, the new folk followed up and contributed! They even came up, as we were leaving, to say how much they’d enjoyed meeting me and how they hoped they’d be able to spend more time with us!
I was so nonplussed all I could think of was–Sure, we live next door to each other, after all.
That isn’t as outrageous as telling the anonymous voice I’m the girl-friend, but it is breaking out of the box. I plan to do it more often.
What do you do when you want to break out of the box and still remain legal?
Other than what I’ve described above, I wear mis-matched socks; have dyed my hair pink, blue, and purple; etc. I know it sounds as if I’m trying to call attention to myself. I am. I’m crying out to be seen as me and not as a member of a herd of mes–doomed to be type cast and labeled as such.
Does no one else feel that way every so often?
It’s only an every-so-often thing for me, btw. Not to worry.
Liz, Do what you can to help her live fully her last days. Help her show her true character. There can be nothing more important than being alive until there is no more. The tears will come when they come.
I’m over my panic, thank you. Now–anyone have any suggestions about what to do to break out of the box of ordinariness. Nothing needs be blatant, as a matter of fact the quieter the better. I know I said I dyed my hair different colors, but that was before my first brain surgery. I also went to work with my head shaved–after the surgeries. But I wore absurd hats and earrings. I wouldn’t have been allowed to do so were I not bald with my scalp held together by staples.
Given my family situation, I feel the need to very quietly, very privately, challenge societal codes, more than I did three days ago. Maybe another tat is in order. If y’all can’t help, that’s okay–I’ll think of something. If I go with another tattoo, it’ll be a butterfly. That’s a good totem for life.
Have you met your neighbors? Food, chairs tables music and throw in a keg. A sign that says hello its a party welcome all. Meeting the neighbors is a good way to break out. Winter soup or stews is always a draw and inexpensive. Ooooh a stew party! People bring an ingredient. Nail soup!!
On one of my morning walks I noticed a van. It had “Shindler” painted on its sides. Missed opportunity. I should have asked the driver if he had a list.
When I see City workers digging below the sidewalks here, I usually ask them if they’ve found the alligators yet. One of them replied, “No, but we’ve got the equipment to bring 'em up.”
I never quote the OP if it is cleer that I’m refering to it. I also never check my gramer, but I can’t convinse myself to avoide using the spell checker.
Flashing a smiling-wink at cute guys as I walk down the road
Dressing to express one’s-self regardless of trends
Wearing make-up in crazy colours and styles
Constantly going to new places for a new environment experience
Going to brunch parties for themed daytime partying
I think that because I’m a major daydreamer I am continually using that as a satisfying form of escapism from the mundane reality around me.
My daring dos are usually smart-ass humorous. I did go into a major grocery store and asked for a box of Scratch. I told them that all the best cooks start from it.
LOL, Ier. And Jonquil, I coined ‘daring do’, meaning daring to do something, because ‘derring do’ wasn’t exactly what I meant, but thanks.
Yes, we did meet the new neighbors–no keg, however. And it was a very pleasant evening although I coughed so hard I got a nose bleed. (How do you do, Linda–Please excuse me if I bleed all over you. Call it your baptism in blood.) I’ve been afraid to call our hostess every since even though I’m sure I wasn’t contagious–I hope.
I’ve found that ‘snappy answers’ and/or one liners usually go right over people’s heads, so I try to stay away from the really subtle. When we went to meet our neighbors, we drove–all of about 120 ft (down our drive-way, in front of the house next door, and up our hostess’ driveway) but, hey, it was raining, I was getting over a three bottle/three box cold, and I didn’t want to slip on the wet grass! Made sense to me.
Mags, you gave me an idea. Our daughter is a model. Maybe she’ll make me up for a ‘shoot’–hmmm. Gotta think.
[size=150]In the meantime,[/size][size=50]chemo did nothing for my sister’s tumor.[/size]
I guess it exercises our creative side… or is that our naughty streak 