5.19.00
That’s me there on the left, I made that “Game Over’ design on my graduation cap because I thought it was ironic. In the year 2000 we equated irony with funny ha ha… Ten years later I don’t even know where to start with this article… It should be a can you spot what’s wrong with this picture picture…
Ready? Go!
After the photographer snapped this pic and Frank McCourt snoozed his way through a speech in Washington Square Park, we all jumped into the gross fountain. I had my cell phone in my pocket, not two hours after Graduation I was broke… Who knew the foreshadowing? Thank you internets (and Michelle for sending this to me) and thank you W for not doing anything.
01.05.09 From Think Progress:

On domestic policy, Bush was asked if he made progress in some areas for which he hasn’t and probably won’t get credit. Topping his list was his unsuccessful drive in 2005 to reform Social Security. Bush said his effort showed it’s politically safe to campaign on changing Social Security and then actually seek to change it.
He also said it was important to have raised private investment accounts as an attractive option in reforming Social Security.

5.19.00

That’s me there on the left, I made that “Game Over’ design on my graduation cap because I thought it was ironic. In the year 2000 we equated irony with funny ha ha… Ten years later I don’t even know where to start with this article… It should be a can you spot what’s wrong with this picture picture…

Ready? Go!

After the photographer snapped this pic and Frank McCourt snoozed his way through a speech in Washington Square Park, we all jumped into the gross fountain. I had my cell phone in my pocket, not two hours after Graduation I was broke… Who knew the foreshadowing? Thank you internets (and Michelle for sending this to me) and thank you W for not doing anything.

01.05.09 From Think Progress:

On domestic policy, Bush was asked if he made progress in some areas for which he hasn’t and probably won’t get credit. Topping his list was his unsuccessful drive in 2005 to reform Social Security. Bush said his effort showed it’s politically safe to campaign on changing Social Security and then actually seek to change it.

He also said it was important to have raised private investment accounts as an attractive option in reforming Social Security.

Heidi and Marcus Tenny

Hey Gang! I got this e-mail last night and wanted to share this story with you.

Hey, I know you don’t know me, but I follow you on twitter. I’m in the music business in Nashville (social media/pr) and I have a friend back home (PA) who needs some help this Christmas. This Christmas may very well be her last, and I would like it to be a great one. She’s been fighting cancer for two years now (she’s 27) and it has spread to her lymph nodes. She has a husband who left work to be at home with her and their six year old son. With him not being able to work, there isn’t a steady income and I’m afraid (as you well know) the medical bills are piling up pretty high.  Please see if you can spread the word. I’d much appreciate it.  Also, people can send flowers and cards as well…it doesn’t have to be just money.

http://heiditenny.bbnow.org/about.php

http://www.wishuponahero.com/wishes/?id=433945

Thank you.

Here is what Marcus Tenny says about his wife Heidi. Aside from donations, the family is asking for flowers for their home.

My name is Marcus Tenny, husband of Heidi Tenny. Heidi has been going though chemo and radiation for two years now. She has fought a tough fight the whole time. She has been an inspiration to many people. She has shown us that when times become overwhelming and it seems like there’s no break. don’t fall down, don’t just give up and lie in bed waiting for it to end. Stand up and face it , fight it, and beat it because you can. We know its hard not to lose hope. Its been two years of pain, tears, and many sleepless nights. It might be her time to go soon when God decides. But that does not mean she’s not going to fight the Cancer every step of the way……and you would do the same..

PASS IT ON!!!

Monday, November 23, 2009 — 2 notes

It's Sunday Night Retroactive over at Muthafunka...

Ladies and Gentlemen of un(under)insured America! Commence sending your medical bills to Senator Joe Lieberman and Senator Ben Nelson.

Artists For United Health Care

The first federal anti-discrimination law in nearly 20 years takes effect today, prohibiting employers from hiring, firing or determining promotions based on genetic makeup.

Starting Dec. 7, group health insurers will not be allowed to consider a person’s genetics — such as predisposition for Parkinson’s disease — to set insurance rates or deny coverage.

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Holly’s 7” came out this week! Here is the first single Forest Green Oh Forest Green and the B-side is a Yoko Ono cover Nobody Sees Me Like You Do. It’s appropriate then, that I should take my first few steps without my crutches listening to it. Go Team!

St Vincent’s Hospital: Our employees put together this video to generate breast cancer awareness throughout our hospital system. We had a ton of fun putting this together and hope it inspires others to join in the cause

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

The only appropriate song for this moment…

The Thank You Letter I DID want to send!

Dear World,

I wanted to say THANK YOU. Most of you don’t know me from Eve or that hole in the wall. But World, you should be so proud of yourself because today you came through with flying colors. Two weeks ago, I was sitting in my parent’s kitchen with piles of paper stacked in front of me, and a lump resting in my throat. I was trying to come up with scenarios: benefits, or bake sales, a wet t-shirt car wash, a carnival, a concert, and raffles… robbing a bank… mugging little old ladies in the park. I had to stop, the thought of planning my own benefit was utterly depressing and clearly in my condition I wouldn’t get away fast enough to mug anyone. I took a break to focus on something that brings me joy and started making a mix tape.

I stayed up all night working on my “best of the decade” list, remembering the ten years that had already passed and thinking how did I end up here? Ten years out of college and back at home, broke and broken. Somewhere between my delirium and daybreak and feeling sorry for myself, a thought popped into my head. If I had a dollar for every time someone told me they liked a band they found on my blog… wait… could I? Nah. How many times has anyone said that?

I finally fell asleep. Fifteen minutes later I was at my computer logging onto Twitter. The status update at 6:06am on November 10th read:

If I can get 12,000 ppl to donate $1 to ouchie.tumblr.com in the next two weeks I can start to rebuild my life and go back to blogging music.

I laughed to myself, I’ll be lucky if I make half that by Thanksgiving. I would be happy to make half that by thanksgiving. I just had to get rid of some of this stress. How is anyone supposed to recover this way? I thought that if I was doing something proactive towards changing this very precarious situation I would start to feel better.

Eight hours later, my request in 140 characters had been retweeted among my friends and my friends-friends. $1 from 12,000 people was what I asked for but eight hours in I was down to 11,000 people. The donations would range from $1-$1,000 over the course of the next week. With notes of support, videos to make me laugh, stories of triumph, recovery suggestions, which vitamins to take, which exercises to do. My inbox was beginning to fill up with messages like this:

Your friend Holly Miranda makes achingly beautiful music. For this $10 please let her know that Waves helped to sew together the jagged pieces of my broken heart :-) Of course, you’re awesome too- stay positive and get better soon!

I come from a country where the government pays for your hospital stay when you get sick, or like you break something, so the least I can do is help someone who doesn’t have the same benefits as I. Hope everything works out for you. Take care.

I don’t have health insurance either, and basically live in fear of something like this happening to me.

Good luck! I’m currently in the same boat. I have to have blood transfusions because I’m so severely anemic. Did you know that blood costs $900.00 a bag, eeek! Again, good luck and many blessings!

Hey Raimy! I’m from Canada and I have mild panic attacks when thinking about how the average person handles their medical bills in the US.

My father as a diabetic was self employed with no health care, which took quite a toll on the family financially, when I was growing up. I would never wish that on anyone else. Good luck.

I’m from the UK and had this accident happened to me I would have never found myself in the position you’re in. Lets hope your Country gets it’s act together!

If I can spare $125 on something as meaningless as new clothes, I’d much rather spend the money on something more important…your ankle. I’d rather have you up and walking around (healthy) than me thinking I’m cool in a new outfit. I don’t have health insurance either, and if something like what happened to you happened to me, I hope people would help me out.

We have a far from perfect health system here but reading your story really put into perspective how lucky we are and how unfair your system is - literally survival of the fittest.

I was really touched by your story….I realize that I have been taking my cheap health care services here in Canada for granted

I read your story on your ouchie-blog and I’m very sorry that you have to suffer so much from a stupid accident. I’m living in Germany and I don’t have to worry about insurance, as it’s pretty much a basic installment here. I hope so much that the health insurance problem in the US will be solved in the nearest future and nobody has to lose everything due to medical bills coverage.

You are bringing attention to universal health care right now and you are helping a bunch of people without even knowing how far the waves are going, and I can assure you they are going further than you think.  I am so incredibly thankful for you and the voice you are giving to all of us. (this one made me cry)

You have given me the gift to be able to appreciate music and explore the small joys of life through that.

It’s November 18, 2009 and I’ve raised a little more than 12,000 to settle my outstanding medical debts in one week. I cannot explain how or why this worked, I feel so lucky to have discovered this community of people, literally all over the world willing to help another soul in need.

You know, there is this man on Washington Ave and Fulton Street. A double amputee, he rolls up and down the avenue by car windows, when we see him my Mom always give him a dollar and says, “There but for the grace of G-d…” I roll my eyes because she always says that. But this week, I have such a deeper understanding of what that means. The willingness of people to help one another when we just admit that we need help.

Right now I think we can all use a little help, I’m astonished so many of you who donated used money from your unemployment checks. Even your parents have been in touch, they worry about us. Worried that a country that touts itself as the greatest in the world won’t have the means to carry us when we are older, many of us will, in fact, go broke because of a break.

I hope if nothing else, this experiment is a testament to the fact that our health care system needs defibrillation. I’m not a politician or a policy maker, I’m just a person without health insurance and a broken ankle who asked for a little help from her friends and will now get by with it.

So thank you world, I can’t wait to get back into you. (That’s what she said)

Love,

Raimy

P.S. If you are expecting a CD, sketch or framed piece of work from me please be patient. I’m trying to get everyone sorted by Christmas.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009 — 27 notes

WE (YOU) DID IT!

Dear World, thank you! We have reached the goal! Im speechless going to compose myself and will post later this evening.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009 — 15 notes

MOST EXCELLENT!!!

If you know Bill & Ted’s favorite number then you know how much is left to raise toward The Ouchie.\

If not, the answer is here

Tuesday, November 17, 2009 — 2 notes

Uninsured ER Patients Twice As Likely To Die

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

Ace Of Base - I Saw The Sign from the I See My Dead Grandpa In The Toilet Bowl OST (1996)

What A Difference A Day Makes: Part II

After they shot me up with Dilauded, it gets mushy. CNN was on; we wound up watching it after all. I had been crying for two hours now, not because I was in pain, because I knew every fifteen minutes spent in the ER was another month set back. Now my Mom knew, she got that dreaded middle of the night phone call but Cindra was a champ and laid it all out for her.

Ray?

Mona.

Cindra? What’s wrong?

What’s wrong? Is a common follow-up to hello when you get on the phone with my mother. What’s wrong? What’s the matter?  Or what happened? That last one is reserved for when you drop shampoo in the shower and she thinks you slipped and broke your neck.

One day, I will see an analyst who will tell me that my irrational fear of zombies has a direct link to the aforementioned follow-up questions. And when she reads this sometime tomorrow she’s going to say that I exaggerate. Just like all the times she was late to pick me up from school in the dead of winter on Long Island. It was the janitor, Large Sarge and I. Sarge, the large, blonde 60-year old something was the head of security at Smithtown High School.

Early in my sophomore year, I went to the bathroom during health class. When I closed the stall door, there was a HUGE swastika drawn in sharpie behind it. Sarge’s office was across the hall and I stopped in there before getting back to learning about why girls get their periods. I was very upset, more than the swastika I was angry at my parents for putting me into a situation where someone would be ignorant enough to put a symbol of hatred on the back of a bathroom stall, probably without knowing what it meant. About 15 minutes passed and the bell rang, I walked by the bathroom again. It was now blocked off and there was Sarge scrubbing off the swastika herself. That anecdote has nothing to do with my story, I wasn’t sure how I would ever fit that in somewhere so I did it here because it really upset me and the last person I ever expected to see scrubbing it off was a woman who looked like she could be on the East German women’s olympic wrestling team. So there.

I was not always late.

Mom, you were always late.

Ok fine Raimy, I’m a bad mother, what do you want? You want to give me back? Would you rather I am like one of your friend’s mothers.

She loves to pull that one out; she knows that’s is the one thing I wouldn’t argue back about. There was no fucking way I would have traded my Mother for anyone else’s.

No, I just want you to be on time. I could get serial killed.

The reason we moved here is so that you could be out after dark and not have that happen.

Nothing would happen to me after dark in Brighton Beach except that I would have been home for two hours already. People still want to stick us in ovens here.

Then take the school bus Raimy; what do you want me to tell you?


The hospital was, for lack of a better description, dead. The drunken kids must be having their stomachs pumped in Goshen. Maybe this is where they take poor people and no one is poor in Warwick. Who knows?

Raimy had an accident. She broke her ankle… in a few places. But she’ll be ok! The orthopedic surgeon on-call is an ankle specialist…

I knew it! I had a feeling something was wrong.

She always “knew” it; there was always a “feeling” before something terrible happened. My theory is that if you always think something terrible is going to happen, when it finally does then you are always right.

I don’t always think something is wrong, that’s you father. He’s the negative one, not me.

No, no. You’re never late either.

She’ll flick the back of her hand under her chin about now say, “Gai kukken afen yam!” which, in Yiddish means, Go shit in the ocean! Why this is an insult, to anyone other than the ocean? I have no idea. Then she’ll offer to make me breakfast.

They rolled in another stretcher. Now the TV was off and all I heard was the low hum of the lights and the faint sound of that poor kid next to me crying. This was maybe the fourth or fifth frantic call made to my mother in my lifetime.

The first time I ever smoked pot and drank Jack Daniels I was juuust barely out of high school. This incident is known among my close friends as the Dorito Bag Incident. There is no such thing as moderation to an 18-year old who never drinks. Nor is there any sort of appreciation for the painstaking time and effort that goes into making a glass of whiskey. Especially when you are pouring it into a solo cup with ice and orange juice.

Ten minutes after taking bong hits I was rolling around on the floor doing Joan Rivers impressions. Twenty minutes after that, I was singing Ace of Base into the toilet puking and talking to my dead Grandpa Frank, who was very upset with me. I’m a model student. I shouldn’t be acting this way; grandpa is so upset with me. About ten minutes after that poison control was called, then my mother. My parents where there in five minutes. And my Father was made to stay in the car. When my Mom came in, six very scared, pre-collegiate, moderate achievers stood before her. She was looking at her prodigal child in the bathroom, splayed out on a tile floor in her underwear with pieces of Doritos speckled in her hair. She looks back at them.

Girls, did Raimy smoke marijuana?

Yes Mrs. Rosenduft she did.

Then the door closed. Now, you have to understand, I don’t remember any of this-this is all folklore that has been retold to me over the years by friends and my parents. Apparently, there was laughing, followed by retching, followed by a question about why Amy has empty Dorito bags rubber banded around her wrists and the sink if filled with Doritos?

Sheessspuhling myharrr outmyface.

My father was called in. This was pre-heart attack Dave, the Dave that could lift his comatose child off the bathroom floor and carry her out to the car while she wrapped her arms around his neck saying things like, “Daddy I love you, I don’t tell you enough but I do… I think I’m going to barf.”

The following morning I would wake up on a fold out cot at the foot of their bed, my first real hangover. I called into my mall job and told them I ate some bad fish. My mother looks at me for a while then, “That was strike one. You have two more strikes or you don’t go to away to school at the end of the summer.”

I was good after that; I never wanted to drink again! I’d made it through high school only drinking three times, never doing drugs, always being the DD and always the responsible one. A few weeks later, I was getting into my car for work. I pulled down the sun visor and two photos fell out. They were of me after we got home that night. There was dry heaving in the downstairs toilet and there were pictures, two pictures to be exact. One of me with my head resting against the bowl and the other leaning up against the wall with my eyes rolled into the back of my head and both my thumbs in the up right position. There was a post it note that said, “Please drink responsibly.”

So no, I would have never traded parents with anyone else.  And I would continue to torture them well into my 20s when I moved back to the city and discovered the scene.

They put me in a room with three empty beds, the charity room, I was by the window. The nurse was attaching the saline bags and a morphine drip. Cindra sat on my bed until I fell asleep and then she went back to that tiny motel we found alone. I was in and out for a few hours. I could hear the rain hitting the window as the dawn went to work. Around 8 o’clock, two hours before visiting hours began, my Mom walked into my hospital room. My eyes were so swollen I could barely see her. She sat at the foot of my bed in silence; we didn’t need to say anything now, because she was right on time.

259.

Tuesday, November 17, 2009