Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Goodlacknails GIVEAWAY!

Today's giveaway blogger is from GOODLACK NAILS...and she's giving away NAILVENTUREOUS FLOAM AND PINKERBELL! YEAH!!!! Can't beat that! Here's the link...

Monday, May 21, 2012


A little break from mani’s right now. I thought I’d write about one of my more “amusing” gigs playing bass. Well..it wasn’t at the time..and no, I didn’t get beat up by some rogue athlete.

In 1998, I was living in Houston, Texas, basically doing what one does in Houston, sleep, work, eat out and shop. I swear, coming from Houston, to Florida..the food quality dropped DRAMATICALLY!...However, I’m writing about music today.

So, through my Texas pickin’ guitar picking buddy Brennan Nase, I got hooked up through the local Houston music scene/network and occasionally got the stray gig, here and there. Since I wasn’t a member of the Music Union, nor made music my primary living (thank God) income, I didn’t pimp to hard to get gigs, and when I was asked, I could be picky. Whatever cash I made, was gravy.

So, I got a call from the music director for Julio Iglesias Sr. to play a one night concert gig at the (then) Houston Summit arena. I was contracted to play cello in a 42 piece orchestra for 325.00. I showed up to one of 2 scheduled rehearsals and saw why I was called up. The other musicians were all Hispanic. I’m like oh..well…now I know why whenever I would get off a plane and walk through one of two Houston airports..the first question I would be asked would be “do you speak Spanish?”…”NO”! But..I got used to it but no, never learned to speak the language. Oh..back to why I was called up for this gig? Because I LOOKED Hispanic, or rather…in Texas, I was another person of color more than likely to BE Hispanic. I guess the Hawaiian part was enough to throw me out of the ASIAN category and throw me into the HISPANIC stereotype, at least until I opened my mouth.

So, I show up to the rehearsal with a cello in hand (had to borrow it as my cello is home in Utah…unless Ryun has stolen that too and carted it off to Ohio..like my other instruments he could steal) but when I sat down, the conductor asked me if it was true I played the bass guitar. Of course I do..he then offered me 450.00 if I would play bass guitar in the main band, behind Julio Iglesias. Ok,..more money, but those of you who know me, know I HATE being onstage, and worse..being front center. I declined, but then he offered me 650.00. 650.00 bought A LOT of sterling silver jewelry in Houston in those days, so I thought, what the hell. Its not like anyone I know will SEE me. So I had them go out (since I had brought only a cello) and rent me a Fender Fretless Jazz Bass (since MY vintage Fender Jazz Bass is safely hidden from my thieving brother with someone in Utah)  for the next 2 days. Hey, I was already stuck with a borrowed cello!

I finished the rehearsal and the dress rehearsal with no problems. The music was easy to read, standing right in front of me, and pretty straight forward. I didn’t really speak to any of the other musicians around me, as one of my personal idiosyncrasies is to not speak to people I didn’t know, as I’m not the most OUTGOING person when meeting new people.

The backup band and orchestra were ok..again, the music was easy..so I went home confident in the fact I’d have 650.00 in 24 hours, and I went and bought some sterling silver jewelry for myself on QVC.

I showed up for the concert, tuned up and sat with the other men in the backup band/rhythm section. There was a keyboard player, 2 guitarists, a drummer and an auxiliary percussionist besides me. I remember briefly silently acknowledging the rest of the rhythm section. We were set quite away from the orchestra, but I was already thinking ahead of more things I could buy on QVC.

Lights up! Concert ON! Julio Iglesias came out and was speaking to the crowd in Spanish, which wasn’t a problem, because I had the music in front of me. As he was chattering away, all of a sudden, all the musicians started rearranging their music! Crap! He was changing the order of the music and I couldn’t understand a word he was saying, nor was I familiar with any of his “hits”. I turned to the drummer and asked him what the changes were. He looked back at me blankly and I’m like oh..yeah..well..its a drummer..I grew up with one in the house..and they ARE rather dimwitted beings..so I turned to one of the guitarists, without looking panicked. which I was getting there. I asked the guitarist what was the order of the music change and he looked at me as said “Que?” FULL BLOWN ANXIETY ATTACK!! NO ONE in the rhythm section around me spoke ENGLISH! And of course, I didn’t speak Spanish. Sooo…what was supposed to be an “easy” 650.00, turned into a MAJOR PSYCHIATRIC EVENT for me!

Oh..I made it through the concert, but it wasn’t without my typical “Maile performance anxiety drama” that I had tried to avoid. The worse part was trying to surreptitiously leaf through the music trying to find the right song in the music score, while everyone else was playing, while I was using my ear to listen to the music being played around me and my left hand to play the bass while I was leafing through the score with my right hand. I guess no one noticed, because I was paid 650.00 and asked to play the next gig, in AUSTIN! HELL NO!

That’s all for today!

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Sheila "The Pointless Cafe" Blogger is having her 1000 follower GIVEAWAY!

My polish buddy Sheila is having her 1000 follower blog give away..I hope I do this right as I'm just learning about html and links and stuff! If it doesn't work google the pointless cafe..and you'll find her! The giveaway includes Butter London, Lynnderella's Connect the Dots and the sold out Zoya velvet box!

Saturday, May 19, 2012



My friend Katrina MY ONLY TRUE friend who has stuck by me all these years thought of this title. I’m doing a holo for May 19th Holo Mani Day, but also chose a kind of bruised looking color. The undie I used was the perfect match to what my black-eyes started out to be…

I started with Zoya’s “Cynthia” a really nice blue almost black cream. The pic is 2 coats in the bright Florida sun!

This is 2 coats of Ozotic 744 (from their Holographic Series) over Zoya "Cynthia". I know, it's a multichrome showing purple/blue/pink flashes but its in their holo collection!

I blurred this trying to get more of a holographic effect. 

Ok..in my perverse way..it looks EXACTLY LIKE A BLACK-EYE BRUISE in the first stages of HEALING..all blue with those purple highlights..PERFECT! And totally apropos for today’s Holo Mani Day and my blog posting of my continued saga of Maile Versus the Athletic Department! 

When Katrina came up with the title” Black and Blue Tough For BOO” she was referring to Watkins “Boo” Singletary’s “fall from grace in the state of Utah” Oh..it didn’t happen overnight, like I wanted it to be (that’s me…Ms. INSTANT GRATIFICATION!) however if you want to know what happens to him, please continue reading…..

It was extremely difficult for me the rest of the year. I was still under contract to play in the University of Utah Pep Band for the Men’s basketball games. My bandmates (everyone knew) would throw out “subtle” hints at him while he played. We would simultaneously feign cheering for him (again, our scholarships and the 25.00 per game depended on it) while holding hands around our throats mimicking being choked, while yelling at him whenever he had the ball “don’t choke! Don’t choke” and making gagging sounds (ah yes, I forgot to mention my neck was bruised from his hand being around my throat) a not so subtle double entendre’ that most of the crowd didn’t understand, but the band and the men’s basketball coaching staff and athletic department did.

THAT started and fueled my cynicism and distaste for intercollegiate athletics. It was the reason I pursued a Master’s Degree in Sports Administration for the University of Utah. It was also the motivation why I was a major pain in the University of Utah Athletic Department’s and the Chancellors office’s ass for almost 20 years.

I know some people will want to know what happened to Watkins “Boo” Singletary. Well, I found out after my “run in” with Watkins that the head coach basketball coach, Lynn Archibald had recruited Singletary at a jail in Garden City, Kansas. Singletary was playing junior college basketball for Butler Community College because he was ineligible, intellectually and socially to play for a big time college athletic program. “Boo” was in jail because he had kidnapped and assaulted a former girlfriend of his at Butler CC.

He was not the first or the last student-athlete in REVEUE PRODUCING SPORTS (which means MEN’S basketball and football teams) where this is done. Many university athletic programs scour obscure community colleges looking for “problem children potential blue chip athletes” to beef up their own revenue producing athletic programs, many times finding them in the local jails or in some trouble with the law. That will be another blog entry some day..I mean..I know WHY athletic programs bring THESE STUDENT-athletes into communities where an athlete may NOT be “socially and mentally developed” enough to live among normal human beings ($$$MONEY$$$!!!) for an extended period of time.

So, back to Singletary. The Athletic Department bailed Watkins out of jail, let him loose on the Salt Lake City/University of Utah community where, after me, he continued beating his way though other women on campus. There were a couple of cheerleaders, who the band WARNED that he had a problem, however they laughed at us and said they were “much prettier than that ugly girl bass player and it would never happen to me”…WRONG! We always knew which ones he was “playing” with because they would be suspiciously absent from games (like me..they too were on scholarship..and they HAD to go to the basketball games or lose their scholarships) and then these cheerleaders would show up sporting not too well hidden black and blue eyes also.

Watkins then hooked up with a wealthy booster’s daughter and she got pregnant. She married him, and they moved into her parent's basement. She had 2 kids with him until finally her father got tired of his daughter being beaten up with a THEN washed up FORMER University of Utah basketball player, and kicked him out. But I noticed it was AFTER his career as a basketball player was over and he was of no use to the University of Utah Athletic program, did not have the talent to play in the NBA or even overseas and receive any modicum of an education after his three years at the University of Utah. Being a JC transfer, he was ELIGIBLE to play only 2 years, but he was eligible for a THREE YEAR athletic “academic” (snicker) scholarship.

In 1994, I went to a local convenience store/gas station near my mother’s house…and wow..there he was. Working as a cashier at Rainbow gas. Not 4 miles away from where I lived! At first I was kind of scared, because he was pretty mad at me for “spreading bad rumors about him”, however, by then, I had smartened up and knew that the University of Utah would NOT protect him anymore..and while he had those VIOLENT tendencies still in him..IF he raised a hand to me..NOW I was strong enough to press charges and stuck is ass in jail, and no one would help him. Ok..this was before pay at the pump and well..everyone in Utah paid for gas with a personal check, so I was stuck having to go INTO the store and pay for the gas with a personal check. Great..it had all my information on it. However, again..it’s not like he could do anything to me and he probably wouldn’t recognize me anyway! It had been almost seven years and I was sure I was a dim memory in his dim tiny athletic mind, so I went in and pretended I didn’t have a clue who he was (that was the fun part).

Like I wouldn’t recognize him. How many 6’5” (now) 265 pound black men live in Utah!?? Not many..and even LESS on the East Bench/Cottonwood/Holiday (upper middle class) suburban area of Salt Lake City? But I had dark glasses on..that kind of helped. Watkins was very courteous, but he kept waiting for some kind of recognition, which of course..I just couldn’t do.

I’ve run across many former athletes like that. Walking around desperately trying to garner any kind of attention or glimmer of recognition by strangers to relive some kind of pathetic glory from the past. I guess that would be difficult, going from seeing your name in lights, hearing 10 thousand people cheer for you and call your name (minus the band and a couple of cheerleaders) on local TV/radio, on ESPN and in the newspaper (not that you could read anything other than your name) to ZERO.

In fact, he actually tried to flirt with me asking me to “remove your sun glasses so I can look at your pretty eyes” (haha..right..I can play that game), and I knew THEN, I HAD WON! I wasn’t scared anymore, I didn’t have any fears or even anger. If anything,.. I was amused! I smiled at him and took off my glasses, and he looked at me, trying to get me to say something..ANYTHING..where he would have leverage, power, recognition…and he got NOTHING! I wrote my check, gave it to him, he asked to see my drivers license, I showed that to him too, he wrote down the appropriate information, thanked me, I thanked him and I walked out the door, ELATED!

True to form (they’re just so stupid) that night..the phone rang..and it was “this guy” asking for me by name. But playing the “you know who I am game”. To be obnoxious and to amuse myself even more (obviously it doesn’t take much), I ran though the names of 4 or 5 NBA players I had “dated” over the years (another blog story…maybe) "guessing".  His voice got more annoyed and He finally said “no its ME! Boo!”…”Who?” “Boo Singletary, I played basketball for the University of Utah basketball team!” “Oh…I remember you..I think..so, did you move back to Harlem? How did you get my phone number?” Ok..he’s not THAT STUPID OF AN ANIMAL..well..not by much. And he tells me “you know who I am and I was at the gas station you were at” and I said “REALLY? Wow..I would have thought you would have done something MORE with that COLLEGE education you received.” He let that pass and got to the good part “So do you want to go out sometime?” YES, HE DID!!! ACTUALLY ASKED ME OUT! Holy shit! Can you believe it! I swear it’s true! Katrina will tell you it’s true because I brought him to a party WITH ALL MY MUSIC FRIENDS WHO HELPED ME AFTER HE BEAT ME UP!


That was a memorable party! Maybe I’ll write about that too!


Thursday, May 17, 2012


                                         "Bloody and Broken" (outside)

I decided to dub this mani "Bloody and Broken", after my run in with the University of Utah STUDENT-Athlete!  (LOL....Actually this is Rescue Beauty Nails "Killa Red" (thank you Sarah) and Lynnderella "Connect the Dots". OK..I would have liked "Sticks 'n Stones" instead of Connect the Dots, but I don't have it, so this will have to suffice!) At the hands of this STUDENT-Athlete, I had 3 fractured ribs (the white bars), a dislocated shoulder, 2 black eyes (black circles), 1 fractured eye socket (black hex) and 18 stitches (black bars) on the back of my head where he pulled out a hank of my hair (black bars) and part of my scalp (the rest of the white pieces!). The blood red polish..well..that's a given.

I was so odd that night..I actually picked up the hair with flesh attached and took it with me! I didn't want someone to come across it in the parking lot and be grossed out!

PLEASE DO NOT BE OR FEEL SORRY FOR ME! I'm not like that! I'm writing this because I NOW KNOW I'm not the only one that this has EVER happened to, whether it be from domestic violence, at the hands of an "almost' complete stranger or random violence from an athlete! It can and will possibly happen to anyone! You just have to remember the problem is THEM and the animal handlers that ALLOW these sub-humans loose on the earth,.......... not YOU!

                                         "Bloody and Broken" (inside)

This would represent myself inside my friends house after the beating....(I know..its just different lighting)

                                          "Bloody and Broken" (support from friends)

Ok..its just John reluctantly holding my hand while he's trying to work on his EPIC TAX REFORM novel, but this would represent the support from my friends, because there WAS a lot of hand holding that night! Thank you Bill Brown (1977-2011) ! I miss, love and owe you so much!

Thank you for reading this! Feel free to pass my story on to someone else who may be suffering....

Of course, I'll let you know how this ends!


Tuesday, May 15, 2012


I kind of had to think of what I wanted to write about..of course I love to write about polish..but I’m still wearing a CRUNCHY FROG (**smile**) mani with FLOAM (**giggle**) pedi. I know they don’t go together, but my soon to be former shrink, since I talked about Floam so much wants to see it and I see her on Wednesday..soo. No much nail today however I have a great idea for a mani sort of related to what I’m writing. Hmm..I wonder if I’ll be able to post the pics the day AFTER I post this..I guess I’ll find out, more than likely the HARD way.

I thought I’d explain the long long sojourn with my issues with sports. Specifically "REVENUE PRODUCING INTERCOLLEGIATE ATHLETICS" "Revenue producing" being the key word. As a kid, I was always a Universityof Utah fan (Runnin’ Utes). Growing up in Salt Lake City where the U of U is located seemed like such a fun place as opposed to the stuff and stogy BYU (Brigham Young University), which is owned/run by the LDS Church (boo boo).

My Dad’s family were/are big time Boosters for the University of Utah Athletic Department. Not that it matters to you, but I want to clarify the definition between an "Athletic Booster" and a "University Alumni". Athletic Boosters, generally are NOT graduates of the University they donate money. Many of them are members of the community and give money only to the Athletic Department, whereas a University Alumi's GRADUATE from the school and generally give money to the UNIVERSITY, which if you continue reading my ramblings but not in this post are two entirely different economic and socioeconomic entities on a university campus with a Division I athletic program. I remember sitting at the family restaurant on Saturday nights “prepping food” at our family owned King Joy CafĂ© on Main Street in SLC, to feed the entire University of Utah football team and coaching staff two meals (brunch and dinner) every Sunday during the offseason. My Dad’s brother Harry (Uncle Harry) did this for years, until I was at least 34 when he closed the restaurant after being in business for over 50 years.

So I would help prep the food on Saturday night and then on Sunday, my mother used to put me on an early bus and I’d take the bus to the restaurant where I’d help wait on tables, then take the bus home when I was done with a lot of leftover food. When I got older and had a car, I would get to drive. I never understood why Ryun (my lazy stupid brother) NEVER had to do this. I didn’t object, it was a given fact Ryun was lazy and “delicate”. Mentally delicate and physically lazy..somethings never change. An off story on Ryun was that apparently my Dad’s family while they will never ADMIT IT, never really LIKED Ryun as much as me. Ok..it’s not my ego..but I remember when we were kids and Ryun was 5 years younger than me, we used to go to the restaurant, he refused to go into the restaurant (this continued from when he was a toddler until he was around 5 years old). No reason, but he just didn’t want to go in, and would throw a fit and cry and cry, so my Mother used to leave him outside the restaurant while the rest of us ate inside (true we could have ignored him but there were paying customers in the restaurant too so..out he goes..hehe). So while we ate, Ryun stood outside the restaurant for hours and cried. Pity no one kidnapped him, but then he wasn't worth the money to get him back. Ryun is another blog entry.

So back to the University of Utah football team thing. On Sunday’s I’d wait on tables, and grew up being a “Ute Fan”. I looked forward to going to the University of Utah over BYU but kind of worried because I wanted a music scholarship but was worried I’d have to go who gave me the better offer. Utah won. I think. Well, I went to the highest bidder which was the University of Utah Music Department. 

During the years, every year, my Uncle Harry had what he called his “Foster Son”. This was either a Polynesian or Black student-athlete (my guess is because my Uncle was Chinese, and only booster that was a minority at the time…lets put the minorities with the minorities!). This “foster son” would always be a fixture at all family functions and holidays and stuff.

Anyway, in 1987 at the beginning of the school year..which started in September but this was in August before classes started, Uncle Harry had my Aunt Mary (Mary Goo) call me and ask me to take his new “foster son” and show him around Salt Lake. I was thrilled and really excited! I mean..I had played in the UofU Marching Band for football games and the Pep Band for the Men’s Basketball games. Wow..this is MORE than just waiting on tables. Fun! I was given careful instructions, 1. I was to drive to the restaurant to pick him up. 2. I was to take this basketball player out to dinner and show him around town because he was new. 3. I was given 300.00 (which seemed like a lot of money for one dinner in SLC) with instructions at the end of the evening to give him any of the money leftover (yes, I was stupid). 4. My Aunt gave me 10.00 for gas. I was ecstatic! I got GAS MONEY to do something that for me was going to be totally fun!

The night was uneventful, but fun. The student-athlete (Watkins “Boo” Singletary) was charming. He told me he was from NYC (wow!), he was 6’9” and seemed sincere, a little dumb intellectually, but it didn’t matter. I had a good time and he said he had a good time. I gave him the 250.00 at the end of the evening, he thanked me and took the cash, then asked me since he was “new” in town, if I wouldn’t mind giving him my phone number because he didn’t have a car and was it ok if he called me to give him a ride to the grocery store some time. Sure! No problem! End of night! I called Mary Goo and told her the evening went well. She said that Uncle Harry wanted to know how much money I had given him. I told her around 250.00 and I had a receipt, she said it was ok and thanked me.

Two days later, I got a call from “Boo” and he asked me if I’d drive him to the local store (Smiths Food 876 East 800 South) I did not call my Dad's family, I didn’t tell my mother (why would I?) I just drove to the guy’s duplex where he was living with 3 other basketball players who were very nice and took him to the store. It was a little late around 10pm and he bought a lot of food. At 6’9” (actually now looking back, he was more like 6’5”) and 230 lbs he needed a lot of food. I remember the exact amount because that was a moment that literally changed my life. The total for all the food he bought was 157.92. It was at that point that he looked at me, and I’m like what? He said “pay for it”. I said “excuse me? You had 250.00 less than 48 hours ago”. He said “you’re supposed to pay for it”. The cashier was getting uncomfortable, and Boo was getting loud and I said “kiss my ass” and walked out. He followed me (it was around midnight at the time) out into the parking lot (without the groceries) and proceeded to beat the crap out of me, telling me I was stupid, that I had embarrassed THE STAR of the basketball team and to never do it again. I don’t remember if there was anyone who observed us, but given that this particular neighborhood had a lot of University of Utah athletes living around, I doubt anyone would have intervened. “Boo” stalked off and I was nursing a couple of what would be two wonderful black eyes, split lip, a big hank of hair out the back of my head (my scalp was bleeding) and assorted bruises on my arms and torso from where, well, when he decked me, I dropped like a rock and he proceeded to kick me while I was on the ground. 

Afterward, as I was lying on the ground in the store parking lot, a number of things were going through my mind, well..PAIN, the other was embarrassment and of course I was humiliated that this happened. I was thinking what am I going to do? I can’t go home looking like this, my mother would have a fit. I drove to a fellow band members place nearby and proceeded to tell them what happened. They were upset too, and told me to call the police. We called the SLC Police department who came to the house, proceeded to take a report, but when it came to the point when I told them it was a University of Utah basketball player, I remember they shut their notebooks and flatly told me because I didn’t call them from the place where the incident happened, even though the “event” occurred off campus and because it was a University of Utah student-athlete “it was a University matter” and referred us to call the University of Utah Police Department, “if you feel you need too”. Not knowing any better I called the University Police department and was instructed to come to the police station on campus (3 miles away). My friends and I drove there at around 3am. Waiting was an “old family friend” and Assistant Athletic Director Ned Alger. Now “Uncle Ned” was a long time friend of Uncle Harry, and his wife was my high school counselor. I don’t think I would have made it out of high school without her help, so I viewed “Uncle Ned” as someone I could trust. Immediately the first question out of his mouth (as he was in his night robe) “Did you call the press?” “No, should I?” “No, you don’t want to upset your family”. Next question “have you told anyone in your family have you told your mother or Uncle Harry or your Aunts” “No, should I?” “No, you don’t want to upset your family and your mother has enough on her plate raising you and your brother alone. We’ll take care of everything. Just do what I say.” I specifically asked him, “what are you going to do about Singletary?” Ned replied, “I’ll deal with him don’t worry” “Will he get kicked off the team?”(THAT came from me and my friends). “That’s not your concern your concern or your friends concern. My concern is for you to get better and put this behind you.”

Ok..at the time, this made a lot of sense. I couldn’t go to my mother, who would be totally pissed, I was embarrassed to go to my family. My friends are asking shouldn’t she see a doctor? Ned said that he would take care of it and took me to the University of Utah Medical Center. I was REALLY SCARED then because while I had health insurance it was through my MOTHER and she would eventually get the bill. Ned assured me that he would take care of it and to trust him. Ned asked my friends if they would agree to tell my Mother that I was staying with them (which wasn’t unusual, musicians do that all the time) while I stayed in the hospital and “healed”. They agreed, but only if he would agree that “Boo” would be kicked off the team. Ned told us “I will take care of this personally”.

So, I stayed at the University of Utah Medical Center for almost 2 weeks while my cuts and scrapes healed. The care I received was excellent. No complaints. I had a private room and no one bothered me. The classes I missed “were taken care of and everything would be ok when I went back”. I even received daily notes from my classes. When I was released from the hospital, I still had a few bruises, but I was able to cover them up with makeup and didn’t say a word to my family or my Mother.

Needless to say, zero happened to Watkins "Boo" Singletary. He was the “star” of the basketball team. My friends and I tried to object, but by that time it was pretty much too late and they held my music scholarship along with my friend’s scholarship as ransom basically saying, if you say anything to anyone, no scholarship money. At the time I was getting approximately 3000.00 a quarter. Tuition was a paltry 372.00 for 14 hours. Yeah..the rest was gravy that I could spend as I wanted. My friend’s scholarships were more or less the same amount.  

Did I tell my Uncle? Yes I did. When nothing happened to Singletary and he was in full swing as the star of the basketball team, which was particularly painful to me at the time. In addition, the guy kept calling me telling me this had never happened before, that it was because I was stupid that he did it..he would never do it again blah blah yada yada..There is NOTHING worse than having to go the games and hear the crowd cheer for him, seeing 
his name on the newspapers and on the local news. In February, I went to Uncle Harry and told him what happened. He said "Maile you were so stupid, all you had to do was come to me for the money and none of this ever would have happened to you" and he hung up the phone. 

I learned then I would have to choose my battles more wisely. 

Monday, May 14, 2012

ICD-9 296.89

So, I have a new psychiatrist and again, AND with a new mental health practitioner I always have to start at the beginning with leading the horse to water. Just give me my MORMON COCKTAIL (hmm…maybe Mormon Cocktails will be tomorrows subject) Prozac (fluoxetine) 60 mg (1 tid) and Xanax (alprazolam) 1 mg (1 tid) and I’ll be “functional”. However, no…they always assume that I need whatever NEW SSRI/mood stabilizer/antipsychotic medication on the market. Of course, it doesn’t help that I live in Florida the prescribed drug abuse capital in the US. Right now, I'm being prescribed Latuda (an antipsychotic) generic name lurasidone hci 40 mg 1 po qd. The other objection I have for Latuda is that its kind of expensive and doesn't have a generic equivalent yet, so I have to pay the 40.00 a month brand name copay. Good thing, is..there's no increased appetite side effects, in fact..SUPPOSEDLY (but I haven't noticed in 2 weeks using it) it has an anorexic effect (I'd only be so lucky). Ooo..maybe DOCTOR MAILE will try 40 mg, TWICE DAILY! We'll see. John and I haven't noticed a difference...in either the depression or the anxiety symptoms...however if I do feel the anorexic effects working...ok..I'll trade that off for the Prozac! Or maybe I can get the Prozac, Latuda AND the Xanax! hmmm..What a combination..ooooo..another Mormon Cocktail..we shall see!

Forgive me as I ramble-babble about my psychiatric diagnosis code that has been applied to be so freely! So, the ICD9 diagnosis code I was given was 296.89. Bipolar II. Odd how THIS is the NEW depression (311)/anxiety (300.01) diagnosis. Granted, in the past just having a diagnosis of 311 and 300.01 was very not really considered “medically necessary” in terms of getting approval from my health insurance company when trying to get more mental nervous (MN) visits approved, I see where having 296.89 would be considered “more medically necessary” as opposed to 311 and 300.01.

That being said..what apparently I’ve been categorized as having is “bipolar “light””..whatever..basically they consider my “mania” stages as being HYPOMANIC as opposed to HYPERMANIC. Hypermanic being the classic MANIC DEPRESSED (which is what the old 296.89 code was classified as..MANIC-DEPRESSION..so not me). I think I shy away from the “MANIC” moniker because I don’t think I’ve ever been manic..rather always had a dark doom and gloom personality. I think “mania” is someone that has feelings of “elation” and “joy” “boundless energy” followed by the "CRASH" of major depressive episodes. Sorry..never hard boundless energy or “joyous energy”. That being said. the axis II symptoms, I admit do fit me..are what is called “HYPOMANIA”, the inability to sleep, anxiety, worry, the spending money issues (when I’m not under watch) and general doom and gloom symptoms that I’ve always had..Ok..so..what I see is that they’re putting what was called depression anxiety disorders and stuffing them into the “medically necessary” part of the ICD9/ICD10 coding so that now I fall into (medically speaking) the MEDICAL NECESSITY category. Which is fine. I just don’t agree with the medication, unless I feel a decrease in appetite.

ANOTHER REASON why I don’t like the “296” part of the diagnosis code is that the ICD9 prefix of 296 is REALLY TOO CLOSE FOR MY COMFORT ZONE to  the ICD9 prefix of 295 which is SCHIZOPHRENIA,.......something you do NOT WANT ON YOUR HEALTHCARE RECORDS, unless you really ARE schizophrenic (and if you’re schizophrenic, I understand you really don’t’ CARE you have that diagnosis)! This is actually one of the MOST MISTYPED DIAGNOSIS’ OUT THERE! Think about it..one slip of the key..and you go from being bipolar to SCHIZOPHRENIC due to a typo from some stupid data entry person in some foreign country! Nothing I can do about it right now..well..other than to keep checking the ICD9 codes that are billed to me and get the 295 changed to a 296 was soon as it pops up..but then the damage is already done a lot of the times..It’s REALLY hard to get RID of a diagnosis code than it is to get the RIGHT code applied to you and correctly BILLED!

Ok..now that I’ve thoroughly confused everyone (the 4 people who read this entry that weren't totally freaked out in the first paragraph)..Let me know YOUR ICD9 CODES! I love medical coding..if anything that’s my happy manic state besides nail polish..medical coding! YEAH! Just send me a diagnosis code or diagnosis and I’ll code it  or interpret it for you!  I don’t even need the book! I just know them..kind of savant like!


Sunday, May 13, 2012


So, I figured since my wonderful polish buddy Sarah was kind enough to send me a lemming of Nerd Lacquer “CRUNCHY FROG” (just saying or hearing the name Crunchy Frog ALWAYS makes ME always smile,….which takes a lot), along with DON’T BLINK and Dollish Polish HIP HOP HIPPITY HOP and THE OTHER EDWARD. I’m inspired to write about the little drama our kitties brought into our household earlier this week.

So, John was off to work and I could hear all 4 cats bouncing around upstairs which is a little odd, in that they normally don’t play together, but I didn’t think anything of it. Then Stasho came running down the stairs with one of John’s socks in his mouth, now THAT was a little unusual, in that the ONLY things the kitties carry around like that are their kitty toys and then its only my Mingus who tends to carry around the toys and cry like a mama cat calling her young to eat (and our 3 boys always fall for it knowing it’s a stuffed toy from the Dollar Store..go figure).

Anyway..Stasho brought John’s sock downstairs and dropped it about 10 feet away from me and started poking at it with his paw, then I heard thumpa thumpa thumpa as the other 3, Hemi, the 30 pounder, Omar, the 20 pounder and Mingus Faux Pas, the QUEEN, came THUNDERING down the stairs and it’s a LOUD noise in that you have Hemi and Omar doing the thumps and together the two weigh around 50 lbs! So the other 3 kitties circled John’s sock that Stasho was poking and prodding at, the damn sock MOVED and there was something ALIVE about half the size of the palm of my hand in the sock..and I’m like shit! We have MICE IN THE HOUSE..we have FOUR CATS LIVING IN THE HOUSE and they let MICE IN HERE! What are we going to do! OMG..I’ll have to OVERHAUL the whole house if we have mice in the house..the thought was overwhelming to my insane and tiny mind!

Still unsure of what I was going to do! There is, OPTION ONE: Do I try to catch it and miss and let it loose in the house again, OPTION TWO: Do I let the cats try and catch it…but experience has shown me that cats generally just play with their "catches" until they die ..or they can “lose” them to play with them again later. Neither option seemed like a great one..So, I’m watching the Hemi, Omar and Mingus sort of corralling the moving sock..which is bobbing up and down kind of fast and Stasho is doing all the work of flipping the sock up with his claws trying to get it out of the sock..and then the sock bounces about 8 inches off the ground and I thought damn..that must be one scared mouse, I didn’t know they could jump like that, or maybe it was just one of the other cat’s claws that had hooked it and flipped it up...maybe its a RAT (they jump! holy crap!) who knows..the cats and the sock were between me and OPTION THREE: The kitchen where the broom was!  No, I hadn’t really thought out the addendum to OPTION THREE yet! Then something brown and green JUMPED OUT OF THE SOCK..and landed ON top of the white sock..IT WAS A TREE FROG! RELIEF! ELATION! (kind of like taking an instant double dose of Xanax)  NO MICE/RAT IN THE HOUSE! POOR FROG! Because the 4 cats were still “toying” with it! Frogs to me are good..they kill roaches (my fear of roaches will be another chapter I’m sure) eat mosquitoes and while the thought of picking up the sock when I thought it was a mouse was totally unthinkable…picking up a frog with John’s sock (Ok..I’m not totally brave to pick it up barehanded) I had no problem doing! So, I scooped up the poor froggie with John’s sock and put him outside on the tree outside the condo..and it managed to drag itself up the tree (one of his hind legs looked broken (no blood on the white sock either)..but I hope he’s ok..there are plenty of mosquitoes and tree roaches I’m sure up in that tree to eat while his leg grows back..or heals..I think frogs regenerate new legs if it falls off) and he was out of sight!

So..honest! I think Sarah having NL "CRUNCHY FROG" and being so generous to send it to me…is the GOOD FROG KARMA COMING MY WAY, because to the Chinese, FROGS ARE LUCKY! So my "CRUNCHY FROG" nail polish, courtesy of my friend Sarah, is because I have such a great and generous friend in Sarah, but also because I saved the poor tree frog from my kitties! Oh..the kitties? They kept looking for the frog for an hour after I put it outside, gave me suspicious disgruntled looks…and they’re over the disappointment!

John and I haven’t figured out how the frog got into the house and THANK GOD it wasn’t a mouse/rat! Thank you again Sarah for my "CRUNCHY FROG" polish! And thank you Froggie Karma for sending "CRUNCHY FROG" MY WAY! I promise this happened! And NO, I did NOT tell Sarah this story to inspire her to send me "CRUNCHY FROG" (**smile**)!

This picture is 2 coats of Nerd Lacquers “CRUNCHY FROG” over one coat of Cult Nails “IN A TRANCE” (which I believe to be the perfect undie for CRUNCHY FROG) and 1 coat of GELOUS!  Ok, and because this has a happy ending..I can say yes..seeing the white hex shaped glitter in “CRUNCH FROG” (smile) makes me think of our kitties crunching CRUNCHY FROG bones! Or NOT! ;P


Saturday, May 12, 2012


Despite my reticence and insecurities writing a blog, I figure what the hell...  The Silverinator (aka Silver Anderson) was kind enough to help me set this up, so, I figure this will be a combination of my never ending babble regarding nails, my psychiatric health and my preoccupation with things that aren't generally considered "healthy" for a normal person's body and mind. That being said, I'm not a "normal person". At least I admit it..

I guess I should warn anyone who reads what I write should know that while I'm considered to be a very good writer..when I write informally, like now..I tend to write like I talk. I've understood it's kind of a weird, rough sort of IAMBIC PENTAMETER type of writing and speaking. Maybe it’s a Utah thing..who knows..yeah..I'll bitch about Utah a lot too..given I was born and raised there. Oh..and of course, YES I was born and raised as a Mormon (LDS) ..but as I say.."yeah I am a Mormon...AND I SUCK AT IT!" As opposed to the CHURCH'S latest "I'm a Mormon" campaign..hell..at least I don't see those stupid book of Mormon commercials anymore on TV as much..well..of course..that's because the president of the church at that time, kind of had what I call a "used salesman" type of mentality. So, born and raised in Utah, left "The Land of Zion" in 1988 and moved to Las Vegas, moved back in 1989 in shame (but not pregnant), then left again. not yet to return, in 1996 to live in Houston, then from Houston, in 2001 to what I call my EXILE right now in Florida. HOWEVER, and I hold true to this...I will RETURN to the Land of Zion eventually to die like a salmon. I just never felt the urge to go back and SPAWN there..just die.... 

Again, going back when I thought of the blog name..I know I'm being redundant, I just remember my Cottonwood High School Jazz Ensemble Director, Clint Frohm screaming at me "The Nails, Maile! The NAILS!" during, well. orchestra; where I played cello and double bass, the Stage Band, Jazz Ensemble (bass guitar and double bass) and Concert Band (double bass) he said he could hear what many believed were "absurdly long fingernails" as they scraped/clickety clacked across the strings/fingerboard of whatever instrument I was playing. Of course, if I was hooked up to an amp..it made it worse. so then EVERYONE playing around me adopted the same objection, “The Nails, Maile! The Nails” or more like “Goddamnit, Maile!  The fucking nails! Cut the nails!” Ok... and when I was impatient. I would tap my nails in a sharp staccato on the wood of the cello/double bass I was playing to let EVERYONE KNOW..I was bored and impatient. another one of my idiosyncrasies that tended to be quite annoying. which is why I loved doing it. Hey..if you can't fucking play it right in rehearsal... don't waste MY time and everyone else's time **tap tap tap, tap tap tap**! HEY! It's better than using the bow. because THOSE BREAK more easily than my nails (I found out many times over)...  hmmmmm ....  I wonder if Clint ever figured out when I graduated from high school **sighs**in 1981..that the number of bass and cello bows dropped dramatically from 25 to 10 in the 3 years I was there... hehe ...

What else... hmmm... well..I started playing cello in the 3rd grade because my mother (there will be a lot written in this blog bitching about her and my bother..I mean BROTHER...oh..same thing....trust me) was too cheap back then to RENT a violin! The elementary school already had cellos, so that placated her CHEAP sensibilities. I guess she wasn’t sure if I could be trusted to follow through playing an instrument because on both her side and my dad’s side..no one had EVER played an instrument..other than my bitch of a Grandmother (grrr ... Tutu) fancied herself a virtuoso on the UKULELE ... whatever..Obviously I didn’t quit until..oh..I guess recently. but then REAL musicians never really QUIT. they just go on HIATUS for a very long time. So I played the cello up until high school and decided to switch to bass. there’s a reason for this..I guess another day..who knows..

So..sorry to be redundant. but I figured the title THE NAILS, MAILE! THE NAILS!  ..given it’s a scream I honestly respond too and because I love nail polish is rather apropos for the title of this blog