Honesty is the best policy.

Stop me if I've told you this blog before:

A short while back, a series of events led me to make this proclamation: "I hope my husband has a good health plan." Anyone who knows me -- or hell, anyone who has talked to me for more than two minutes -- knows that I don't begin sentences with "When I'm married" or "When I have a husband" or "at my wedding" and so on. (It's just not a frame of reference for me ever since Kirk Cameron gave his heart to Chelsea Noble. My heart will go on, etc etc.) But the comment came tumbling out of my mouth and I couldn't even take it back, because I'm Honest Lil and, well, I meant it!

Unfortunately, things got taken to another level when tonight I admitted to a friend (unprovoked AND via email- paper trail. Double whammy.) that if there were a website listing guys' health plans instead of their stupid favorite movies and hobbies, I'd probably drop the cash and sign up. Cupid, here I come.

To my defense, given Eric "The Great Galvini"s recent escapades with his HMO, I just think I'm evolving within my lifetime to survive this cruel, cruel world. Some girls want diamonds, some want a vacation home in Spain and an unlimited shopping budget. I mean, I'm not *fighting* the villa dream or anything, but some days all I want is low co-pays and immediate appointments, maybe a discount on prescriptions. Could it be that the Persian social wisdom that nudges us girlies to date doctors has the right idea after all?

Whatever, I'm just being honest.