So my coworker pages me to the sales floor, and I can see on her face when I arrive that she can't wait to pass of the idiot she's talking to. I have seen this guy before. He looks like he stepped off the set of The Lord of the Rings, but with boots and a plaid wool jacket. He has this terrible, ridiculously curled beard, too much jewelery, and a funny little accent.
"Heybartender, this is Padma."
("Really? Top Chef is really wearing on her!" was all I could think.)
"What can I help you find?"
"You don't have any Cotes du Rhone. I used to always be able to find Cotes du Rhone..."
"Sure we do! Come with me," I said, walking over to the French wines. I pointed out three that were on the shelf.
"Those are too expensive. I want one for under ten dollars."
I pointed to two more.
"Those aren't good."
"Well, there aren't a lot of good Cotes du Rhone out there for under ten dollars. If you want a good one, you should try this- or this." I gestured at two that were $11.99.
"You have to go out to Adamant (another Co Op). SHe has all kinds of Cotes du Rhone."
"Well, I'm not going to Adamant. If there's something specific you want, I will order it for you."
"She has this one for $7.99!" he continued, picking up one of the ten dollar bottles.
"Well, clearly she isn't interested in making money. Unfortunately, I have to or I will lose my job. If you want to save the two bucks, then I recommend that you drive out there to buy your wine, though I daresay the gas will cost you at least as much as you're saving."
"Okay, well, thank you for hearing me out."
"Yeah."

This happens all the time.

There is nothing I hate like I hate the doctor's office. I hate the smell and feel of the waiting room, the fecking paperwork, which I have already filled out at the three doctors' offices that I had to visit before finally landing in this one (seriously, no computers?), and the waiting. I was required to be at this self-important douche hole twenty minutes prior to my appointment, presumably to fill out the metric fuck ton of repetitive paperwork. After I turned that in (with ten minutes to spare, I might add), I was kept waiting another ten minutes before being called into the examination room. The b.h. stayed in the waiting room. I was given a crappy useless gown and told to remove my sweater and t-shirt. Luckily I had layered, because it was about fifty degrees in that room. Another ten minutes went by and a very young woman came in to do the preliminary b.s. - hwy was I there (um... check the fucking referral?), what happened, etc. That was a two minute process. After that I waited forever consuming an entire issue of Smithsonian Magazine before finally putting my clothes back on and wandering out to find a bathroom. I woman in a doctor's coat called me by name and pointed the way. when I came back out she apologized for keeping me waiting and said she would be right in. She came in a several minutes later, we talked for a few minutes, she asked questions and got a model of the shoulder to show me where the problems were, etc. This lasted approximately five minutes. Only after all this did she say that the doctor would be in shortly. She disappeared, and I read another whole magazine. She poked her head in and said she was sorry again and that she would try to push the doctor along. Did I need to be anywhere?
"Does he need to reschedule?"
No, she reassured me, though if I needed to go she could certainly understand. I explained that I had already been waiting three months to get in, and that they had already failed to return my calls or get me an appointment on three other occasions, so I was not eager to try again. I asked her to fetch the b.h. When I found out that I had been in there for over an hour, I got furious.
I told him I was going to wait five more minutes and then walk out. He reminded me that I had been asked to pay in advance and that I should demand my money back. I stewed for several more minutes before finally getting dressed, grabbing my bag, and walking out, nearly bowling the doctor over in the process.
"Oh, do you have time to see me now?" I asked in the kind of quiet tone of voice that usually precedes a homicidal spree in the movies.
He looked genuinely confused. Did I dare question him? After he'd spent so many years in medical school? Who was I, a mere non-medical professional, to assume that my time was in any way equal in value to his? It was clear that he was not used to people reacting this way. I wanted to dick punch him.
We went back in the room, we ran through the bullshit, and I contained my anger as best I could. The end result was a cortisone shot and less pain, and my solemn promise to myself that I will suck it up and drive the fucking forty miles to Burlington the next time I need to see a doctor. Fuck that place. Seriously.

I'll finally be getting to the orthopedist tomorrow. I have no idea what to expect, but am hoping they can tell me something definitive so I can make a plan for my stupid shoulder. It hurts quite a lot by the end of each day now, and I find myself much more tired than I should be, regardless of how much sleep I get. On the bright side, being so exhausted has helped me to sleep more heavily lately.

I got news that I am offered a special rate at the ludicrously luxurious hotel in Vienna for the night of my arrival. My only concern is that it may be a ways from the city and any potential sightseeing. On the other hand, after spending almost a whole day traveling, it seems like a heated pool and a fat drink might be all that I need. Any insight is appreciated, of course. Otherwise I'll wing it.
Things have been very busy at work, and I am trying to get Sven up to speed so he can do my job while I'm off gallivanting. I have been approved for six days of educational pay for the Austrian portion of my trip, which means that with the PTO I have saved, I will only be missing half a day's pay for my whole two and a half week trip. Sweet! In other news, our friend J(male, formerly of casa del J and J, where many a dinner party was had last year) and his wife will be flying from Sweden to meet us in Paris. Have I mentioned that I am really, really looking forward to this trip?

The b.h. and I have been talking a lot lately about "what's next". We have these conversations from time to time, trying to decide where to move and what we want to do. We both think that we'd like to be gone before the start of next winter. The fact that this one has been so cold and wet and miserable has only reinforced that. We have our eyes turned toward Chicago at the moment, though nothing is set in stone. I've been gone so long now that I can't even begin to imagine where we'd live. Still, we've formed an exploratory committee. I'll keep you posted, of course.

I may have mentioned before that there is a particular customer at the LG who everyone knows and almost everyone shies away from. She is one of our many examples of Vermont Parenting, with a son who is about three that she spoils and refuses to discipline at all. This is the woman who not only brought her child into a wine tasting, but then allowed him to handle every piece of food that was being sampled to my customers, watching disinterestedly while he shoved about half of it into his face before putting the rest back on the platter. The final straw occurred when she offered him the last few drops of wine in her glass.
"Here honey, wanna try it?"
"No!" I virtually shouted across the cafe. "Please don't do that. It's against the law and I could lose my liquor license."
She completely ignored me, so I went to get my manager. By the time we returned, she was gone. She has since come to around ten tastings, each time having to be reminded to stay within the roped off area (We're really quite Puritanical here in the Green Mountain State) and leave her son outside of it.
So the other day when she showed up sans child, hovering around a couple that I was consulting about wine for their wedding. She was making herself part of the conversation, asking questions and making comments about the things I said, so I assumed that she was actually with them until I had answered all of their questions and they had walked away, leaving her crazyship and I alone.
"You're so passionate about what you do. It's really great."
"Thanks. Yeah, well, when you love what you do..."
"Do you ever have tastings?"

I started my day yesterday with two hours and fifteen minutes in the dentist's chair. I may or may not have mentioned this before, but I have a lot of silver fillings from my childhood, and as they get older the silver is expanding and breaking my teeth. Hence I am replacing all of said fillings slowly, as my insurance and bank account will allow. I am now on the third phase, the upper left quadrant of my mouth, and there is a lot of work being done. Making this third phase more interesting is the fact that while I wait for my gold onlay to be made, the temporary cover that I have been given for my naked teeth seems to be flavored with clove. I don't dislike the flavor of clove, thank the gods, but neither would I prefer to have the taste perpetually in my mouth, in the manner that it has been for the last thirty some odd hours. Wine is undrinkable, and so is the stingingly bitter hoppy beer that I usually enjoy. I am finding solace in Brooklyn Black Chocolate("Blackout")Stout, but the going is not easy.
The problem with my shoulder is still in limbo. I've had the stupid MRI, been to the clinic that i had to see in order to establish whether or not I have a potential workman's comp claim, and I am now waiting, waiting, waiting to hear back from the bloody Orthopedist. i finally got sick of waiting and called on Wednesday. "Hi, I have been waiting two weeks to hear from you. I was referred by Some Stupid Clinic and they said it would take seven days."

"Well, you had an appointment on January sixth and you didn't show up."
"You didn't call to tell me I had an appointment,and if you had I would have told you that I would be in Florida on the sixth and would not be able to make it."
"Well the Clinic should have called. We would only have called to confirm."
"Clearly neither of you did, or I wouldn't be calling you right now wondering what was going on now, would I? You'll excuse my tone, but I am in a lot of pain and I have been trying to get an appointment with you since the first of NOVEMBER, and I really need this dealt with."
She read me the phone number she had for me, which was wrong. "But you know where I work! Why would you not call if you didn't reach me?

"I don't know what happened. Now the problem is getting you in."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we may not have an appointment for... we have an opening on February 6th. Can you come in then?"
I banged my head silently on my desk. "Yes. I'll be there."
What else can I do? I mean, I'm not going to accomplish anything by yelling at the poor receptionist, right? Curse this fucking town for it's smallness and lack of competition among providers. One more thing to add to the list of Why I Can't Stay in this Fucking Place.
In other WICSITFP news, the b.h. has his company holiday party last Sunday. The place he works is great. Run by benevolent geniuses, successful, warm, and an all-around good situation. For him. He has three bosses and one boss's brother, who is a kind of junior manager guy, who is also incredibly nice. All four of them have wives or significant others, and all of these women are completely shitty to me on a regular basis. I have no idea why or what the deal is, but I've been around for a couple years now, I get on well with all of their guys, and I am so married. Not possibly a threat, right? But only one of them deigns to acknowledge me at all, and only when the others aren't looking. It is bizarre. I thought at first that maybe I was being paranoid, but the b.h. confirmed that they are not easy to know. They have all finally warmed to him after all this time, but he basically told me not to bother and not to worry about it. Ugh. It brings to mind a saying:
"God made the country, Man made the city, and the Devil made small towns." I wish I could remember who said that. Anyway, the countdown to Austria is on, and upon our return I think I will start hatching an escape plan. I believe if I find myself here in a year I will lose my mind.

The rest of my vacation included a sunset dolphin watching cruise on the ocean; watching the Blackhawks lose in overtime to the Detroit Redwings (which also meant listening to my mom shout a stream of obscenities at their television- I think "dickface" was my favorite); and going on my uncle's boat down the canal at the condo complex into the Caloosahatchee River and then out onto the Gulf of Mexico. We turned around fairly quickly, and ran out of gas on the river on the way back. My uncle called the boater's equivalent of AAA, so we were unstuck in under an hour. We made a brief stop at a loud and horrible sports bar that served decent pizza, went to a nature preserve of Sanibel Island, and swan yet again in the pool. I have never been a big fan of Florida, and by no means would I ever want to live there, but I am glad that my folks have a place there. They love it and they're having a great time, have gotten younger-looking for the time they've spent, and have a great little community of friends. It's a place I look forward to visiting yearly, let's put it that way.
My flights home were unremarkable. I went back through Detroit again, this time with a much shorter layover and a less satisfying beer. My friend Anna was waiting for me at the airport, and I was whisked home in no time.
It has been bitterly cold since I returned, but we've spent a lot of time planning for our trip next month and thoughts of Europe are keeping me very warm and fuzzy. Even work has been relatively pleasant, Oddfellows Local 151 aside.

Not sure if I mentioned this before, but I am once again composing on my phone, so please bear with the rampant typos.
My first day here was mostly spent eating and drinking and playing with the dog and catching up with my parents. They showed me around their condo and their neighborhood, as well as the beer store, and we chatted and rested. Friday we dropped my dad at the golf course and mom and i went to a local farmer's market, where we bought fruit and veg and bread and fresh mozzarella, as well as cheese and pastries from a French expat. After we took a walk around the park, which was mostly a very large trail around a small body of water that is filled with big crazy birds and, purportedly, alligators. We saw no alligators but several large turtles and a dumb young couple smoking pot out in the open while making half-hearted attempts to rein in their pit bull puppy. Bright future for all involved there, to be sure. After we picked up dad we drove out to Sanibel Island, where we located a nature preserve that none of us had the energy to hike through. Ah well, another day perhaps.
Yesterday we went to Ft Myers Beach, which was gorgeous despite being tacky and touristy. The sand was white and powdery and felt great. There are places there to go parasailing. I am hoping to get back there as well. This trip is getting much too short.
Today I slept in and had a huge and delicious cup of coffee and a smoothie before suiting up and heading down to the pool. My folks had to go to the airport to pick up my sister, so I brought along a book my mom loaned me and my iPod and spent two glorious hours in my own world.

I am currently in the airport in Detroit, on a layover between my own sparsely populated state and Florida, where I will be visiting my parents. the photos below were taken from a moving walkway between two of the terminals. I have to wonder how many people are injured annually at the endpoint of said walkway, what with the loud music and the flashing lights and all. Conversely, I wonder how many spontaneous dance parties break out here.

For my birthday this week, the b.h. Sent out a request to many of our musician friends, asking them to record one of my favorite songs and then send it to him. He then put them together on a CD, for which he asked yet another friend to write liner notes. He did the artwork, and the result is eleven songs worth of fabulousness. Needless to say I was speechless. I may have even cried. I will try to post the artwork when I return. For now though, I'm off to find some sun.

The drama with my co-worker escalated when I wrote her back. I felt the need to defend myself, naturally, and I sent her a point by point rebuttal of the message she sent me. I addressed it only to her, since I had already made all of the points to my boss, who was completely on my side and also defended me to his boss, who was also already on my side and had sat the woman in question down to have a chat with her about the impropriety of her ridiculous, crazypants e-mail.
She in turn sent my e-mail on to both of the bosses, as well as her father, which is why I am now certain that it was her daddy issues and not my incompetence that caused this meltdown in the first place.
Sigh.
It was only after she screwed up something she was working on for me *twice* and I responded very patiently and kindly that she finally came and apologized to me. Not that it was much of an apology mind you, but the woman is obviously not well and I just wanted the tension to be gone. So we hugged and it's over and I suppose it will be until her parents make another big wine order.