Thursday, January 06, 2005
Rainstorms, Rainbows and VD
You know...I think I'm a little cranky lately.
Maybe it's the withdrawls, which I actually do not even feel. Maybe it's just the way things seem to happen. But I'm not entirely unsure that I am not unwittingly starring in my very own docu-drama sitcom-esque reality show.
Yesterday, the lesson of the day was that there are Rainbows after Rainstorms. I had come to realize that most bad, awful, unpleasant things that occured in my life had led directly to something even better and I had resolved to try harder to see the possibility of a rainbow during the rainstorm. (Yes, I know how fucking Hallmark that sounds and No, I do not read Ziggy cartoons or have pictures of kittens on my desk).
Then something happened. And I tried to apply this theory to this new situation, and though I managed - even I have to laugh at it.
My sister has VD.
Okay. I love my sister. She's 19 and I raised her as my own daughter for the majority of her teen years...but in the past year, she's been acting like a moron. She's living with her boyfriend - a great guy who is significantly older than she is. But for the past 4 months - she's been cheating. I've bitched her out about it repeatedly, told her what a slime ball I thought this "secret" guy was and in the end, he left her with the kind of loving that only penicillin can cure. Pelvic Inflammatory Disease.
My idiot sister finds this out a WEEK after she comes "to her senses" and dumps slime ball because she believes she wants to fix her exisiting relationship. In the span of that week, they must have fixed it good because on New Year's Eve, he tried to propose and she asked him to wait and do it when they were sober.
The next day...pain, hospital, and a rather hard-to-explain case of VD.
This is when I am sooooo relieved EH's own slime ball encounter was with a computer/telephone. The hysterical moment in my talk with little sis last night came when she asked about me being in the hospital last April in intense pain. It was a nasty bladder infection but she seemed to think EH's "affair" had given me some sort of VD too. I explained that it truly WAS a bladder infection and that EH was unlikely to catch the cooties over the phone and Yahoo Messenger - no matter how dirty this ho was, she was still in the midwest while we're in Florida. (Although EH and I do still joke that he could have caught something icky this way too. Some people just seem to wear their infectious-ness as a badge of honor. It's pretty fucking funny to me now...)
Unfortunately, 19 year old girls aren't much more educated on VD. My dumb-ass sister tells everyone what she has before she understands what she has. Not just me, her boyfriend and our Dad...but also her new employer. You see, little sister was to start her brand new high paying job on Monday. She called in sick and informed them that she was in the hospital. They asked if she was okay and she told them she had pelvic inflammatory disease. They decided they could not wait 4-5 days for a new employee and encouraged her to reapply when she felt better.
I'm torn between feeling just a little sorry for her because I love her and just laughing my ass off because (1) she got busted for her stupidity just like I kept saying she would and (2) she "accidentally" told everyone she had VD.
I tried to show her that the "rainbow" in this "rainstorm" was that she came to her senses and as she is cured of the VD, she will also be cured of her infactuation for her slime ball guy. She may not be able to have children, but she has never ever wanted kids anyway and her potential-soon-to-be fiancee has a son already from a previous marriage.
We'll see if he still proposes. I think he will. Just not right this minute. I'm surprised either way.
On another note, I caused a major scene at a Hess gas station this morning. Could they possibly find people ANY stupider to hire??? This stupid, stupid, stupid woman first tried to swipe my credit card for TWO OTHER PEOPLE'S GAS ORDERS and then refused to give me back my credit card from her tiny booth because she "could not find the sale" in her computer. She demanded cash instead (why???) - which I did not have (and there is no ATM onsite or nearby) - and we fought almost to the point of me kicking the damned door down. EH was pissed too. Finally, after 25 minutes of us fighting, she called me rude (I'm now 15 minutes late for work and 25 minutes from getting TO work - damned right I was rude) and charged me $10 and returned my card. I was muttering and seeing red all the way to work. I HATE being late...and this bitch made both EH and I late.
You know, I wonder if they'd consider hiring my sister...
And people, in closing...? Use protection. Especially if you're whoring around. Or, if you're a man in the midwest. Because these people are out there...a fungus-among us.
Posted by Red ::
11:34 AM ::