Laura

I love Babe very, very dearly. Which means I would do again what I did this afternoon (with some modifications) if I had to. But it doesn't mean I wouldn't be a ball of stress by the end.

Babe now has an antibiotic prescription (just in case it's not cancer, but is bacterial) and a steroid (she already had that, but it's been extended, in case it is some auto-immune thing). They could have supplied them to me at the vet clinic, but only if we were willing to give the antibiotic in pill form, which was so not happening. So instead they called it in to the Lloyd Center Pharmacy, where I had to go pick it up.

I never, ever want to have to do that again. I HATE driving in Portland. Portland is a lovely city for walking or public transportation, but driving, no. It's horrid. On a Saturday late afternoon (the prescription was to be ready by 3:30, no sooner; they close at 4 pm), it's even worse. This weekend, there was the usual summer construction plus a flying competition thingy sponsored by Red Bull along the waterfront (not that I knew that when I set out).

I left a tiny bit early, planning to kill any time that I needed to at the Lloyd Center Mall. 1) If I ever, ever get the idea to "kill time" at a nearby mall on a Saturday again, Scott has been instructed to correct me. Hastily. I know better. 2) The signage for Lloyd Center from I-5 North lands you in the middle of it but doesn't actually tell you that, or tell you which parking garages are associated with the mall, or where to get to them. The good signs and access are on another street that you were never directed to. I did get there, mostly because I had referenced some maps online and knew when I'd gone too far. 3) The garage was, not really very surprisingly if I'd thought things through, full. 4) The garage is VERY BADLY DESIGNED. OMG horrific levels of badly designed. Two-way lanes most of the way, but nowhere to turn around so you still have to go through the whole thing to get out. It took me 10 minutes to simply go through the darned garage, and I was scared for my sanity, car, and life several times as impatient people passed in two-way areas, backed toward my bumper to let someone out to secure a space, etc.

I have only ever been there once before, to go to the cinemas, and that was a weekday night if I remember right, and a late showing. I never, ever want to go back again. Ever.

I then left, still early, and figured "fine, I will go to the pharmacy and simply wait there until it's ready, no problem." Good thing, because it took me ten minutes to get there, too. Yahoo maps is convinced you can turn right from Burnside into their parking lot. Lovely, but you can't, because their parking lot is on Grand, which is one way the wrong way from Burnside at that point. Their parking lot is tiny (actually it's a large lot shared with a car dealership, but the pharmacy only has 5-6 spaces total), but not very busy, and once in it I managed to park and get into the pharmacy and get the medicines. (And was given one wrong instruction by the guy who gave me the meds, but I strongly suspected it, called the vet for that and other things, got the confirmation, and the thing that ought to be refrigerated that the pharmacist said didn't need refrigeration is, in fact, in the refrigerator.)

Leaving, I turned on my GPS and let it guide me out. My GPS was also not aware of the flight competition. It was almost impossible to move for throngs of pedestrians (even compared to normal Portland-near-the-waterfront-on-a-weekend-afternoon-in-summer, which is easily bad enough). People were jaywalking constantly, too. I was not able to get to I-5 south - the one shot I had at that lane, a fire engine was coming up behind us with lights and siren, which is the only reason the lane was clear. It didn't seem prudent to get into the lane...and while the truck turned before that, the surge of vehicles behind it didn't.

So I turned up Clay to go to 26, but my GPS insisted it could get me to 405 and then I-5 so I followed its instructions. To get to I5 south, you have very little time to move two lanes to your left there. I was blocked by a car in the second lane that I needed to cross through. So I ended up on I-5 north instead. My GPS told me to take I-84 and then tried to get me to take an exit so I could turn around.

At which point, I powered it off, took I-84 to 205, and came home. I never want to see another Portland surface street EVER right now. I sure as heck wasn't getting off at the OMSI exit, which area has given me fits before, and trying to turn around yet again when my escape from the insanity that is Portland was at hand.

I. Hate. Portland. I hate it with a spitty, thorough hate. And Monday morning we need to call our local vet, get the info on the pharmacies that they use locally for compounding prescriptions (especially if any are open on a weekend, which since I know the Walgreens will do at least SOME veterinary meds, at least one is), and both make sure we have it and pass it to the specialists, because I am NEVER doing that again, not unless it is the only. freaking. option. And it shouldn't be. I will do it again if I must, for Babe, assuming Scott can't do it (he's less likely to be upset to any great degree, especially the same degree, by the same things I ran into; but today, he was helping a friend move, and that needed to happen to). But only if there's not a good alternative.

I made Scott come home and dose the cat with her meds, though, because I am still a stress-ball and I figured he'd be more likely to get it right and deal with Babe well as she resisted the meds than I would be. I tried to help, but I shouldn't've, as I was right. It went much smoother when I just let him handle it.

I do not have anything that even RESEMBLES an angry, upset enough icon for this post.

(And yes, I know it isn't common. Alas.)

A post from Neil Gaiman's journal includes a letter sent to him and his public reply. I share the letter here:

My 12-year old daughter chose Stardust for a school book report. We purchased it in paperback at Barnes and Noble. From the packaging, it looked like an appropriate fantasy story for her age and her 6th grade teacher approved it. We were very offended to find that it had an explicit sex scene and the word "fuck" in it. The marketing of this book was misleading. Were you intending to mislead children into reading it? Why would you do this?

And my responses:

1) Since when is cover and marketing something the author controls? In most cases, as I understand it, really it's not. Talk to the publisher.

2) I have never seen Stardust listed as a children's book, only YA and adult fantasy. (And based on Neil's post, that's all it ever has been classed as.) If you do not want your daughter exposed to such things, young adult is not really the best choice. Trust me, for YA, this is mild.

3) Speaking of which, if you are so worried about what she reads, how come you don't read it first?

4) By the way, do you really think she hasn't heard that word?

5) ...also, do you let her watch prime time TV? 'Cause if so, kinda silly to pick on the book.

6) Oh, and, no comment about the violence? I realize this is a cultural thing rather than an individual, but our priorities regarding sex and violence are so fucked up. (Yes, ma'am, I did use that word. You aren't letting your daughter read this, are you?)

It may be that the 12-year-old is not ready to deal with things like that, though in our society it would surprise me, and it's certainly the parent's right to not want them to be exposed. But, if they exercise that right, it is also their responsibility to review possible sources of exposure and stop them if possible. (Again, in our society, good luck!)

Also there is this post which is the syndicated copy of the entry on LJ, and which has comments from others as well.

I've been going to the same eye doctor for years now. They're right next to the Lenscrafters in the mall, and they have seemed quite competent.

Until this year. As far as I can tell the doctors are still competent, but the assorted other staff, not so much so. I went in for an appointment to get contacts again (I've done without for several months). I will yield on the fact that the initial pre-doctor screening was chaotic in that I did agree the trainee could help do it, and that meant for a lot of chaotic explanations, although the fact that the guy giving them had to be reminded to give me back my glasses at the end of the sequence (I can't find them if they're not on, and not where I expect them) doesn't win points, even if I know he was distracted.

However. After that, they called me to say, gee, I did have to pay for the lenses now. Previously it had been not so much so because you get a trial pair, but the company didn't do that any more, so you had to order the whole set. I protested, but really, what do you do? They'll reorder if the prescription's wrong on their dime, so...I agreed. Reluctantly. And very put out not to have been warned earlier - this is the same brand and type I previous used and they have always had a trial pair. So, they place that order.

Then they call me and say one of my lenses (I think right, but I forget which) is on two-week back-order. SIGH. Okay, fair enough. Then they call two days after that to say my lenses are in and can I schedule an appointment to try them on. "But," say I, "one was on two-week back order! Do you have both eyes already?" Oh, no. They just have the one that wasn't on backorder, oops. Never mind. (Why the **** do you not make sure you have everything before hassling me?)

Thursday night, Scott advised me I had a voice mail and it was from the eye doctor's office. The voice mail was from a couple days prior, and said that she forgot in her earlier call that she needed to make an appointment with me to fit the lenses. It was too late to call them then, Friday I simply didn't get around to it (too many other things going on) and yesterday I plain forgot. I called this morning. And grilled about whether BOTH sets of lenses were in because other than the call when only one was in THERE WAS NO PRIOR CALL. Wonder who Miss Brilliant left a voice mail for that wasn't me....

They confirm both sets are in, and can fit me in at 3:30 today, and only then (for today). I accept. Then a voice in the background tells the (I don't doubt new) chica on the line that that will not work but 1 and 3 will. I'm not sure if those were open or if they were where they could cram me in, but I take 1 pm and head for the mall. Not before trying to make sure my cell is on there. It is. I ask her why they never called it. Well, they called my home. Yes, I noticed, but I don't get notification of voice mails left there unless I pick the phone up. Oh, so we should always call your cell! No, I like my minutes. Call my house, if you don't get me, call my cell.

Why have space on the form for a cell number if YOU NEVER EVER BOTHER TO USE IT ANYWAY? Grah. I swear I'm going to change my voice mail message to tell people I won't get it until next month, I am so sick of this. But I also don't understand why they didn't call my cell when I hadn't called them back in a day or two, at least. Feh.

Got in, got taken back to try them on, washed my hands and asked where I could dry them. "Paper towels there," says the girl. I look at her in horror. "Are they lint free?" "Oh, no," she replies, "lint free wipes there." And points them out to me. If you don't have contacts, paper lint in your eye is not a good thing. I was washing my hands before putting lenses on, at her request. She should never ever have pointed at the regular paper towels - if I had been a newbie, I would have been in for a very painful surprise.

Then I had to make the next followup appointment and we had a lovely conversation that briefly went in circles before we found a time for it, on Thursday. But, compared to the rest of it, that was at most slightly irritating, rather than screamingly so.