Serial killers don't wear sweater vests

My 14yr old daughter and I were out driving the other day when we passed a guy on the side of the road. It appeared his vehicle was broke down and he was looking down the street. My daughter asked if we should stop and help him. I said "Well, it looks like he's waiting for someone. I'm sure he has a cell phone and has already called someone." She thought about that and said "Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, he's alone and he's not wearing a sweater vest. Probably isn't safe." I just sat there for a second, thinking about that logic. Then I just had to ask "Why would you say that?" And she said "Mom, a serial killer would NEVER wear a sweater vest."

Not sure where she came up with that determination. But since so few men actually wear sweater vests anyway then I guess it's an ok assumption. I just hope they don't become enormously popular for some reason.

Escalator horror

I was at the mall today with my daughter. We were walking along when some motion (and gasps) caught my attention. I turned and looked at one of the escalators just in time to see the 2nd of 2 two elderly women tumbling down head first. She was already mostly down when I looked, her feet up in the air and her head hitting the moving steps. The other woman was already down, riding the escalator to the bottom. She wasn't moving, just laying there. As she was reaching the bottom a mall security person was rushing towards her. This person hit the emergency stop button while another security person was coming down another escalator. There are 4 levels to this mall and the women were at the bottom while the other guard was coming down from the 3rd floor.

Anyway, the woman that was closest to the bottom has silver hair and wasn't wearing any shoes, I'm assuming they fell off on the trip down. Not sure. But she just laid there, not moving, shoeless and bleeding from her head. I have no idea why she fell. It could be that she passed out and fell over and the other woman tried to catch her, causing her to fall as well. I don't know. But the whole scene, the woman tumbling over, feet in the air, and the other one just riding the escalator down head first and unmoving was just scary and sad.

After about 10 minuted of medical attention and chasing bystanders away the younger woman was up and moving around, but the silver haired one was still not moving. I was afraid she might be dead. It wouldn't be the first time I've seen a dead body, but that doesn't make it any easier. Finally I saw her eyes open and flutter. She still wasn't moving, except for her eyes.

My daughter and I left that section of the mall. I didn't want to be a gawker, and I hadn't been. The mall, like I said, is 4 levels high, and they all circle the big open area where the escalators are. There's a skybridge and an underground tunnel that connects to a second part of the mall that's the same structure.

It was sort of surreal to see. And I'm not a fan of blood at all. We left, I felt bad as we walked away. I didn't push them, nor was I capable of assisting, so I don't know why I felt bad leaving. But I did.

February 12, 2009 I can't decide if it's funny or creepy...

I am currently working for an online gift company, and we sell, among other things, flowers that are hand delivered to the recipient. Part of my job is to call design centers and place the orders with them so that the correct arrangement is delivered on time and to the sender's specifications. This includes relaying the message that the sender wants printed on the card.

Tomorrow is Friday the 13th! It's also the day before Valentine's Day, so we're busy. I've been seeing a lot of card messages the last few days, but today I saw by far the strangest message ever. It's for an arrangement that is to be delivered tomorrow. I'm hoping it's a joke, but there's always the possibility that there's something more sinister afoot. The card message is as follows:

"On days like today (i.e., Friday the 13th) I think
of people I wouldn't mind being bumped off in a cheesy horror flick ... like
you!"

He did sign his name, but in order to protect the innocent (or maybe the guilty) I've chosen not to include it.

December 03, 2008 I don’t get it...

Why is it that when you ask the kids to do the dishes they get upset about having to UNLOAD the dishwasher? Isn't it easier to unload than load? Unloading is just putting stuff away. Loading is touching dirty dishes, scraping food, rinsing, and doing geometry trying to make everything fit.

Why is it that the dog won't eat his dog food, but he tears into the cat food like he's been starved for a week?

Why does the deodorant have to tip over and fall off when you get to the end? I hate picking it up and putting it back in the deodorant thing. Then it tips again and scratches off half the deodorant you managed to get .. it fell apart.

How come the people who post on Craigslist Rants and Raves always squack about the same stuff? There's so much in this world to rave about (Christmas lights, funny people at the grocery store, getting a 'front row' parking spot) and so much to rant about (grumpy people who scowl at you when you smile at them, 5 car commercials in a row during your favorite TV show, dropping the mail in a mud-puddle). But the posters on Craigslist want to piss and moan about pit bulls and people of different races and how the economy is screwed up. Sheesh.

And how come Christmas used to take FOREVER to get here - now it's here and gone before I can even manage to get all my decorations up? I know it's coming.....And I'm almost done decorating this time! I gotta go - there's still about 4 santas, a couple of snowmen, and some penquins on the dining room table.

November 24, 2008 Maslow ruined my shopping trip

I was at the book store, happily perusing the shelves looking for something interesting. I love the book store. So there I was, minding my own business, wandering up and down the isles, looking at the covers and reading the backs of books that caught my eye. Then it hit. That uncomfortable feeling with the slight pressure. But I didn't want to be done yet, didn't want to go home. So I ignored it. But it wouldn't go away, it never does. It must be dealt with. *sigh* NO - I wanted to finish what I came for, and I didn't want to be rushed. Then I started thinking about it. You know, getting all introspective and stuff. Why am I fighting it? I can take care of it here and continue shopping. It's not like I'm the only one to ever experience it, people do it all the time. And then I started thinking about why it's consuming so much of my energy to fight it. I remembered learning about Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. That silly little triangle, that psychology theory. It seems that you have to meet certain needs before you can go on to the next level and meet those needs. The need I was trying to meet and the reason I was in the book store in the first place was an Esteem Need - Achievement. I wanted to buy a book, to achieve that goal and then go home and add it to my happy little book shelf. The Esteem Needs are 2nd from the top on the hierarchy. I was almost to the top. ALMOST! But then that pressure hit and threw me all the way back to the bottom. The needs go in this order:
1. Physiological: breathing, food, water, sex, sleep, homeostasis, excretion.
2. Safety: security of body, of employment, of resources, of morality, of the family, of health, of property.
3. Love/Belonging: friendship, family, sexual intimacy
4. Esteem: self esteem, confidence, achievement, respect of others, respect by others
5. Self-actualization: morality, creativity, spontaneity, problem solving, lack of prejudice, acceptance of facts.

.....Yes....what threw me back to the first level was I had to poop.

September 10, 2008 Conversation at work...

I was talking to a co-worker today about hanging out at that bar in Hazel Dell called The Icehouse. I told her that a friend always seems to run into her clients when we go there. Said friend is a lawyer, and her clients tend to be criminals (allegedly). I've told my co-worker about my friends job, but I think she forgot. Anyway, here's pretty much how the conversations went:

Me: Yeah, it's a cool place. But my friend always runs into her clients there.
CW: Really? Why? What does she do? Is she a hooker?
Me: (laughing first) NO silly. She's a Prosecutor, not 'prostitutor'.

*side note: she's really not a prosecutor, but rather a defense attorney. And I know 'prostitutor isn't really a word, but it rhymes so nicely with prosecutor, dontcha think?

August 20, 2008 Oh so tired...

I went back to work last Thursday. It's a temp gig, but it's a regular paycheck, and I need that right now. I'm working in the same call center I did for Valentine's Day. My shift is 6am to 2:30 pm, and I'm used to sleeping in until 8:30 or 9:00.

Our customers log on and order all sorts of fabulous goodies to send to their special loved ones. We then either assemble said goodies into gift baskets and send them out via UPS or we call florists across the US to have them send the stuff out for us. The stuff the florists send is either flowers (duh), fruit and gourmet baskets, or balloons. Pretty cool, huh?

Over the last couple of days I've had some really interesting card messages that go along with the arrangements.

The most recent went something like this:
".....most special girl in the world...sugar tits. .....with all my love, you're getting it tonight."

Awww, that's sweet!

This was sent to a man in the hospital....a CATHOLIC hospital:
"I wanted to send you a 22yr old hooker, but those Catholics are too stuffy."

Gotta admit, that one is funny.

But the best so far was last week:
"Sorry some dumb cunt with back titties hit you with her nasty car. Hope your bruises are healing nicely.
You loving co-workers."

Yep...the florist that took the order decided to spell the offending word this way: C***. The florist's manager called us back later to say they couldn't take that order and we had to call the sender and have them change the message.

Maybe I should start reading the messages on these cards before I call a florist. Ya think?

August 15, 2008 Trampoline!

We have a trampoline. It's in the backyard, right below my bedroom window.

My current work schedule is 6am to 2:30pm, M-F. Just started yesterday. Last night it was about 85 degrees in my bedroom when I went to bed so I put the fan in the window.

I was blissfully asleep, dreaming about some random thing, when I woke up to some bizarre sound. I just laid there, on my back, my eyes sticky with sleep, trying to figure out what was going on. Then it hit me - THAT'S THE TRAMPOLINE!!!

My first thought was "Why are my mom's raccoons jumping on the trampoline?" You see, my mom feeds all the neighborhood wildlife. Well, at least all the wild life that's brave enough to come up on her porch. So, yeah, I was picturing these furry little masked bandits out on the trampoline, bouncing around and eating the cat food they took from their favorite diner.

Then as sleep faded and reality crept up on me I realized that raccoons don't jump on trampolines. Well, at least not by their own choice. So I got out of bed to see who it was.

Way to go Scott! I finally get a job and actually need to sleep, and you decide come over in the middle of the night to surprise Brie. Not only did you surprise her, but you scared the holy crap out of Amber (she almost threw up all over her Chip-n-Dale pajamas) and you also almost wrongly incriminated the raccoons with some pretty serious trespassing charges.

Next time you want to surprise Brie how about sending her some flowers? I know a great place you can order from!

July 14, 2008 Hurry up and go nowhere

I feel so rushed, frazzled, untied.

All my plans seem to fall apart. Is it that I'm not planning right? Wanting more than I can have? Not wanting the right things? Or am I just paying off so much bad karma that I'll never get a break?

My hearts desire is unfulfilled. I feel empty, hollow... like my body could be used to generate echoes. Either I've sunk into the deepest depression I've ever experienced or things really are as bad as they seem. I can find joy, or a reasonable facsimile, if I try hard enough. But should it really be that difficult?

And when I think things are getting ready to change, to go a direction more inline with what I've been looking for, it stops abruptly. Just as I start to get a momentum going, and I'm looking forward to changing gears, WHAM! Dead end. I wish I could go back and start over, but I can't go back. I just have to change directions, cut across a black berry field, or though a murky swamp, avoiding snakes and getting bitten by mosquitoes. I'm trying to avoid the mine field, but they way things are looking that'll be my next direction.

Like so many times before - I feel half alive but mostly dead.

June 12, 2008 I have loved...

I have loved some for who I thought they were...

I have loved others for who I thought they'd become...

I have loved only one for who he was...

Maybe it's time I just loved me.

May 28, 2008 The ’Real’ you...

I just read, ok skimmed, over an article about when the 'real' you emerges. It seems that there are 6 different situations that are most likely to cause people to act most like themselves. Why is this important? Well, most of the time people try to be on their best behavior and it's hard to know if they really are that sweet, charming, considerate, whatever or if it's just an act. So, here's some situations where you'll get a good idea as to what that person is really all about:

Traveling - We're outside our comfort zone when we're away from home. How that affects us shows how well we can handle stress. Do we keep our sense of humor or lose control? I think I'm pretty good about traveling, but I can't step outside myself and look at me through someone else's eyes.

Being sick - Some people are total bears to be around when they're sick. I know I personally can be really whiny and demanding. And if I'm really sick and need to go to the hospital then just forget about me having any manners at all - especially when they come at me with a needle!

Arguing - There's so many ways to argue. Some people yell and accuse and insult. Some people shut up and hide. Some are civilized and calm and just want to discuss the issue at hand. I tend to float between all possibilities. I try to stay calm and focused, but if attacked I will at first retreat and get quite, but pushed I tend to go into the "emotional hijack" stage and I can be vicious and cruel. It's not right and I can usually tell when I'm getting to that point and will try to remove myself from the situation before I unload. But if I'm done and tired and just don't care anymore then I'll let my opponent have it.

Competing - "How a person competes can be indicative of maturity level and general good nature." That's what the article said about competition. Well, I guess I'm a bit immature then, because I'm terribly competitive. I don't taunt or harass losers, but I HATE to be one. I'd rather sit the game out then face defeat. Does that make me a terrible person? Wanna arm wrestle over it?

Driving - Road rage - 'nuff said.

In a position of power - well....I could make all sorts of off color remarks about this one, but I'll refrain. Basically the article says that how someone handles situations where they have some power (waitress bring wrong entree, customer service rep on the phone) shows how much respect they have for their fellow humans. I've never really thought about this, but it makes sense to me now. I know someone who is terribly rude to the credit card customer service rep when he calls in and I find it appalling - not only because I used to be said CSR, but because those people are just doing their job and there's no reason to be mean to them. Anyway, I try my best to treat people better than I expect them to treat me, not just how I'd like to be treated. Maybe that way I'll put some good karma out there and hopefully get some back in return.


Now that I've read the article it's made me realize that I haven't paid enough attention to these things in the past and that maybe I should start doing so. But it also reaffirms a lot for me in regards to who I want to spend my time with and who I don't.

May 20, 2008 Jesus spider

Yesterday I was in the bathroom, doing my hair or make-up or something, when I saw a spider sneaking up behind me in the mirror. I twisted around and saw the sneaky bastard trying desperately to climb back up his strand of web to the safety of the ceiling. "Ah HA!! Not fast enough, little creepy crawly! I'll teach you not to slink up behind me!" And I grabbed the web way up high, so he didn't have time to climb up and get me, and tossed the offending culprit into the toilet. He landed on the surface of the water and just stood there, legs all sprawled out below him, standing on the water like a deity. So I left him. I said "If you can climb out then you're free. You can just hang out on the toilet water and think about what you tried to do, mister!" I shut the lid and left.

That was about 7:30 yesterday morning.

Yesterday evening, about 5:30 or so I went back into the bathroom and flipped up the lid on the toilet. The Jesus spider was still there. Walking on the water. Trying to throw a lasso of web to the side of the bowl and climb out. I was impressed. He didn't give up, didn't sink, and didn't drown. So, I felt pity on him and decided to let him go. I grabbed the discarded box the toothpaste came in and put it down next to the spider so he could climb up. I sort of underestimated his desire to get free and as he started making a mad-dash up the box I had to quickly pop the screen out of the window. I didn't want him running loose in the house after spending the day in the toilet. I know he'd just lay in wait for me to fall asleep so he could run all over my face with his toilet-water stained feet. So, I got the screen popped and tried to toss the eight-legged water walker out the window. No such luck. He hung on for dear life. I finally got him to fall off, after having to blow extra hard on the box. Out the window he went.

Then I realized he spent about 10 hours walking on water in the toilet only to be tossed out the window from the 2nd story. I doubt he survived the fall. Hmmm....what a crappy day to be a spider.

May 19, 2008 Do what you have to do

I was out running errands with my daughters and listening to the music from Brianna's IPod. One of Sarah McLachlan's songs came on. It's been a few years since I've heard it. I own the CD Brianna pulled the music from, but rarely listen to it anymore. The song was "Do what you have to do". It's an awesome song, one of her better ones in my opinion. But I forgot most of the lyrics. So, just about immediately upon returning home I had to look the lyrics up online. Ah, yes....then I remembered why that song is one of my favorites. It took me back several years ago. About 7 or so I think. And maybe a time or two since then.

This got me thinking about how I use songs to help me deal with what ever problems are currently vexing my heart. Lyrics sometimes speak so loudly to me. Right now, for instance, the ringtone on my phone is "Better off alone" by Alice Deejay, and it's pretty much my theme song. Do you know the lyrics? They are pretty easy: "Do you think you're better off alone?" - that repeats 4 times. Then "Talk to me....ohhh talk to me" repeats twice. The first line again, six times, then the other line two and a half times. Pretty simple. But, simple is best sometimes.

I feel silly for thinking a song on the radio is going to have magical powers or some supernatural being caused that song to be played at that moment just for me. I know that's not the case, however it tends to make me feel a little better to hold on to that fantasy for a little while.

Here's Sarah' song - in case you're interested:

What ravages of spirit
Conjured this temptuous rage
Created you a monster
Broken by the rules of love
And fate has led you through it
You do what you have to do
And fate has led you through it
You do what you have to do ...
And I have the sense to recognize that
I don't know how to let you go
Every moment marked
With apparitions of your soul
I'm ever swiftly moving
Trying to escape this desire
The yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
The yearning to be near you
I do what I have to do
But I have the sense to recognize
That I don't know how
To let you go
I don't know how
To let you go
A glowing ember
Burning hot
Burning slow
Deep within I'm shaken by the violence
Of existing for only you
I know I can't be with you
I do what I have to do
I know I can't be with you
I do what I have to do
And I have sense to recognize but
I don't know how to let you go
I don't know how to let you go
I don't know how to let you go

May 07, 2008 From lame to SUPER lame...

I just got back from the vet, and the news wasn't good. Skye has completely blown out his knee and now he does need surgery or he just won't ever be able to use it again. He'll be a three-legged hopper dog, a tri-pod, a lop-sided wobbler. My poor little doggy. It breaks my heart because I don't have the $1,500 or so that it'll cost to have the surgery done.

But, while talking to the vet about the operation I mentioned that I'm a mortgage loan officer and only get paid on commission. I said maybe a whole bunch of people will need to refinance their current mortgages all at once and I'll make enough to pay for the surgery. And he asked me about rates and 15yr loans. I said that rates are really good right now, and 15yr loans save you a ton on interest in the long run. He said that he's in a 30yr loan and is getting ready to refinance into a 15yr loan. I gave him my card and told him to send me an email with all his questions and I'll see what sort of information I can find for him. Sooooo....maybe that will work out well and I'll close a loan for him and earn enough for the surgery.

In the meantime - if anyone has found extra money laying around and you want to do something completely selfless and charitable with it, then you can donate it to the "Skye-dog needs knee surgery so he won't be lame anymore" fund!

April 30, 2008 I think I need a sick day....

I found my first gray hair today. I've found hairs before that could be gray or could be blond, so I would just decide they were blond, and everything would be fine. But today there was no question, it was gray. I, of course, immediately removed the offending strand and promptly tossed it. But, I know it was there and I'm doing my best to deal with the situation.

So, I've decided I'll probably have to make some changes in my life. First off, I'll have to go buy a bottle of Geritol. Then, I'll start eating dinner earlier, working my way towards the 4pm hour. And I'm sure I'll have to go walker shopping some time down the road. Depends are probably in my near future, as well as reading glasses and really ugly shoes for my bunions. I don't have to worry about installing rails in my bathroom because the previous owners of my house were elderly and had them put in. So, that's one thing I don't have to worry about, which is good since I'm sure my mental faculties will be going down hill. I'll have to trade my big, wild dogs in for little yappy lap dogs with stupid ribbons on their ears and names like Muffin or Pepper. And I have to buy a house coat and some non-slip slippers, so I don't fall and break my hip.

Wow....it's a lot of work getting old. I'm gonna have to make a list of all these things. It's amazing how much upheaval one little gray hair can cause.

April 27, 2008 Pink elephant treasure!

My aunt tells the best stories. She's 86 yrs old and has lived a very full life, which she continues to live today.

Yesterday I got to meet one of her friends from her childhood. This woman is a year or two younger and just as energetic as my aunt. Her friend and my aunt have the same first name, Marge. So I'll refer to my aunt as my aunt, and Marge as Marge. Simple enough.

Marge told us a story of how my aunt was always coming up with great games for the two of them to play. One day my aunt decided they should play "treasure hunt", and since my aunt was so very poor they had to use Marge's jewelery for the treasure. Marge had only one piece of jewelery, a pink elephant bracelet. My aunt talked Marge into letting her bury the bracelet and then my aunt drew a treasure map to find it with. The map was certainly not up to pirate standards and the two of them dug up just about the whole back yard trying to find the treasure. That was 76 or so years ago, and Marge still brings it up every time they see each other.

My aunt has been looking for a piece of jewelry with a pink elephant on it for YEARS. Brianna and I went to the Boise Mall yesterday, because we were losing our minds. We popped into Claire's to see if we could find something with a pink elephant. And we did! We found a set of two necklaces, each with a pink elephant charm. One had the word "Best", and the other said "Friend". We, of course, had to buy the set. Brianna gave the two necklaces to my aunt and she was so completely delighted. She can hardly wait to see Marge so she can give her one of the necklaces.

My aunt said she's saving the "Best" one for herself. She always makes me laugh!

April 25, 2008 90th birthday....

My uncle Jim is turning 90, so his wife is throwing him a party on Sunday. He lives in Boise and rather than making my mom drive or fly here alone, Brianna and I decided to drive her here. We arrived yesterday around 5pm or so. We stopped at our hotel room and dropped off our bags, then headed over to Uncle Jim's house. My mom's sister, Marge, was already there. She lives in Colorado, so she flew in yesterday morning.

Both my mom and her sister are devout Catholics. Very devout. My mom is 75rs old, and her sister is about 86, I think. So, yeah, they're getting up there. They're both pretty prim and proper, never swearing, and won't even watch a movie with a stronger rating than G. My uncle, on the other hand, isn't. And from the stories I've heard, he lives to torment his sisters. He can be mean, has a short temper, and does his best to pick on anyone he can. I've only met him once, when I was a small child, so I don't know him, or what to expect from him. Little did I know, he was getting ready for his first shocking statement.

Yesterday, we (My mom, Aunt, Uncle, Aunt-in-law, Brianna, and me) were at my Uncle's house, telling stories of long ago, and discussing various problems with today's society. It was getting to be time to head back out for some dinner and then back to the hotel. Before we left my mom wanted to know what sort of activities were planned for the next few days. She asked, "What's going on this weekend?"

My uncle said, "An orgy!"

Everyone just sat there. Silently. For a few moments. He smiled, very proud of himself, and again said, "An ORGY!".

Yep, this explains a lot for me.

April 23, 2008 DUDE!! Why all the lameness?

My dog hurt his leg yesterday. I have two dogs, and it's usually the other one who is gimping around with a sore foot or something. But, today it's the black one, Skye. I'm not sure what happened, just that last night he was limping and refused to walk on it. I wasn't that concerned at first, but as the evening wore on I noticed that he was having considerable difficulty getting around and even cried when he had to get up from a laying position. When you have pets you learn to read them. They are like small, furry children who can't speak. So I've learned to read the cues my dogs give me, and Skye was telling me that something was seriously wrong. It wasn't just a pulled muscle or a thorn in one of his toes. So today I took him to the vet. He was so scared he was trembling. It broke my heart. The vet checked him out and then explained to me that he probably stretched his CCL ligament, which is the canine version of the ACL - the ligament in the knee that people injure so often. It's a pretty big deal. He may need surgery, if we can't get him to take it easy and let it heal on it's own. That means Skye is on some anti-inflammatories for the next 14 days and he's got to keep his physical activity to a minimum. He'll go back to the vet after that to be checked again. Poor puppy! He can't go play, no running around the yard, no chasing his sister, nothing. For 2 weeks. It's gonna be rough. But if this doesn't work, and he blows out his knee then he'll need surgery. Crap! I can't afford that.

So I was reading the paperwork on the way home from the vet. It said: Diagnosis: Lameness

Yep, my dog is suffering from Lameness. I hope it's not catching.

April 18, 2008 Silliness at the coffee shop!

Brianna and I went to Peet's Coffee and Tea this evening for some Chia teas. As we waited for our drinks we were smelling all the teas they have on display in the little glass jars. Some of them smelled like hay. They didn't smell all that great, I compared them to the smell of a barn or alpacas. Brie found a tea that smelled sort of sweet so she said "Here mom, smell this one. It smells sweet. Not like all the other ones that smell like alpacas." For some reason the way she said it just totally cracked me up, and I laughed so hard I almost peed. I ran off to the bathroom. When I got back she had me smell a chai blend she found, but she shook the bottle up first. This particular chai blend was spiced. So, when she shook it she shook up all the spices and when I took a big snort from the bottle I sucked up all this spice dust. I made a pretty horrific face because it burned the crap out of my nose. So we laughed again. Then Brianna took 2 stir sticks and put them up under her top lip so she'd look like a walrus. I took pictures with her camera phone.

We finally left, much to the satisfaction of the store employees. As we walked to the car Brianna said "Mom, look in the passenger seat of the car next to ours." I looked and saw a woman sitting there. Then I looked back at Brianna with questioning expression. She had an odd expression on her face and she quickly said "Never mind." I was unsure why, but I figured she thought she had seen something other than that woman. So I started to laugh as I flopped into the drivers seat of our car. I looked over at her through the passenger window and she was bent over with tea dripping out of her mouth, laughing. She finally opened the door and at that point I was laughing retard style - you know that ridiculously stupid sort of laugh that happens when something is so funny you lose control, yeah, like that. She sat down in the car and we tried to speak, but could only make strange noises at each other. Finally I was able to ask her what she thought she saw. She said the lady had her head down when Brianna first looked at her and she looked like a black shaggy cute dog.

Must have been all the tea snorting that made us loopy, but it was damn funny!

April 17, 2008 I’m an addict...

Toffee peanuts
Starbucks Chai Tea Lattes
Spring flowers
Summer flowers
A first kiss
A second kiss
New shoes
Road trips
The smell of clean laundry
Sleeping with the window open on a summer night
Sleeping in a tent with someone special
Black and brown fuzzy caterpillars
Bumblebees
Ghost Hunters
Dr. Gregory House
Having a crush
Flirting
Book stores
Fresh cut grass
My dogwood tree
Red wine
Raspberries
Cotton candy
Fuzzy slippers
Lavender
Doing something nice and making someone happy.

April 14, 2008 An escapee from Winco???

I saw a scary movie at a friend's house last Friday. Then I drove home. I got off the freeway and was sitting at the stoplight at the bottom of the exit ramp, waiting for the light to change so I could make my left-hand turn. It was dark out, and since I had just watched a movie where the evil scary things only came out at night I was a bit on edge. Silly, I know, but you've experienced it too, so don't laugh.

Anyway, to my left, under the freeway overpass, over by where the homeless people hang out, there was a lone shopping cart. Just sitting there. And it creeped me out. Not sure why. It was empty, so I knew there wasn't anything or anyone hiding in it. But still, it was just sitting there, looking like it was up to no good. I'm not sure what sort of evil a shopping cart can do, other then put a few dents in your car, or maybe smack the back of your ankle when your kid is pushing it. This cart was just hanging out, under the overpass, lurking in the dark. Maybe it used to belong to a homeless person and they had a disagreement. Maybe one wheel was stuck and it wouldn't go straight anymore, so it was tossed aside like so much trash. Alone, it waits, in the dark, under the bridge, looking creepy.

I drove by this morning, and it's still there.

April 09, 2008 I was told I talk about spiders a lot...

I mentioned spiders twice today and a co-worker pointed it out. She suggested that maybe I might have a problem with spiders. Ummm...DUH!! Yeah, it’s true, I don’t like ’em. I tolerate the daddy long variety because I know they eat the other ones.

So, here’s one of my spider stories.

I used to live in an old farm house on a 10 acre lot. It was surrounded by fields and fir trees. Gorgeous! Except we had all sorts of 8-legged uninvited house guests. Back in those days I had a large can of extra-super hold hairspray. It wasn’t for my lovely locks, but rather to stiffen up the spiders so they couldn’t scamper off into little hidey-holes. That way if no one else was home to get the creepy little invader then I could stomp it before it got away. *note to spider lovers and people against violence - spiders should be outside, in the bushes and away from my house. Would you allow a stranger to invade your home? If so, would you not try to remove that stranger, by force and with violence, if necessary? Ok, leave me alone then.* Anyway, I would spray the intruder and then as my kids what they thought of the spiders "Fabulous new hair-do". They laughed at me.
One summer evening I was in the office, paying bills or surfing Internet porn, can’t really remember, anyway the top of my foot started burning and itching like mad-crazy! I was wearing socks and whipped the sock off the affected foot to discover, quite to my shock and horror, that the entire top of my foot was swelled up and purple! Me, being the huge wimpy weenie that I am, made a mad dash across the hall to my bedroom, where I collapsed on my bed and put my foot up on the wall, far above my head. I screamed for my daughter, "BRIANNNA!!!!" She was watching TV downstairs and yelled back "WHAT??!!" I said "COME HERE!" She said "WHY!?!" I said "JUST COME HERE AND SEE!!" She again asked why, because she is lazy and doesn’t want to move an inch unless she the move will directly benefit her in some way. After yelling back and forth a few times she finally came upstairs. She came into my room and asked why I bellowed for her. I was just barely conscious at that point. I gasped out "Look!" while pointing at my huge ugly foot. She’s not normally squimish, but when she saw what my foot was doing she said "EWWW! What happened?" I told her I didn’t know and to call gramma.

My parents came up to my house. They only lived about 2 minutes away. My dad, who used to be a heavy equipment operator, just sort of snorted at me. He loved me, but he also was well aware of how dramatic I could be at times. My mom, a former x-ray tech, said "Well what do you want us to do?" My response was "I don’t know, what’s wrong? Why is my foot like this? Do I need to go to the hospital?"

It was decided that I’d go to the hospital, for safe measure. The nurse said it was a bee sting. Ummm....no! There were no bees in my house and especially no bee in the room with me. The doctor said it was a spider bite, as near as he could tell. The evil little bastard (spider, not doctor) bit me right on the vein on top of my foot. That’s why it swelled up and was purple. GROSS! I missed the next day at work because I didn’t get home from the hospital until the wee hours of the morning. And during the night my girls saw an itty, bitty, teeny-weeny spider and freaked out. They spent the night at a girlfriend’s house.

I didn’t die, obviously. Otherwise I’d be typing this from the "other side" and I’m sure it would be A LOT more interesting. But, that happened about 4 years ago and I still have a purple spot on top of my foot. My little badge of wimpyness, I guess you could say.

March 18, 2008 It’s just an orange vest and a broom handle with a flag...

I saw the world’s most confident school crossing guard today. Really. I was traveling the mandatory 20 mph and she was standing on the sidewalk, watching my approach. Our eyes met. She could tell that I had places to go, things to do, loans to research, and other very important business to attend to. But, damn it!, she had important business to attend to, too. There was a child, middle school age, walking up to her and needing to cross the road. The school was on the other side, and unlike the kids of my day, this young person was going TO school. I thought, "She’s going to let me, and the others that are near by, continue on our way because there’s no one behind me for miles." Well, I thought wrong. Ms. school crossing guard lady, in her bright orange reflective vest, stepped out in front of my car and held out her broom handle stick with the red square STOP sign on it. She had that look of bold confidence a toddler gets when you say "NO!" but are too far away to grab them before they slap their sibling for stealing a favorite toy. She KNEW she had the power to walk out into traffic and hold her sign up and no one could stop her. We all came to a complete stop, not daring to roll too close, and allow the one single child to cross the 4 lanes of traffic. Once safely across the street, the lady with the shiny reflective safety apparel went back to her post, a smug smile on her face. A smirk almost, with a hint of antagonism. And it makes me wonder what other roles she performs at the school. Was she once a recess lady, walking around with her whistle, blowing out quick bursts of noise to let anyone who might be thinking of doing something wrong that she’s watching. Maybe the lunch patrol lady, making sure all food goes from plate to mouth or plate to garbage can, and NO WHERE else. Or maybe she works in the office, sending out notices of poor behavior to unsuspecting parents. All I know is when she has her flag and her vest she means business and no one is stopping her from safely herding the little ones to school.

March 12, 2008 Trying to catch some Z’s.

Brianna has to be at work BEFORE the butt-crack of dawn, and since she doesn’t have her drivers license or a car yet I get to take her. This morning she was driving. I was sitting in the passenger seat, entertaining her with my early morning jabbering. We came upon an opossum in the road. It wasn’t moving but just laying there. I said "He’s tired. Taking a nap." I paused, then said, "Really really tired."

Brianna didn’t miss a beat. She said "Dead tired."

Early morning car rides are the best for awful, slapstick humor.

March 06, 2008 Our scripts...

We all have them. The scripts we use, over and over again, that direct us to do this or say that. We use them in our jobs, in our walking around every day life, and in our inner most personal relationships. It's just that we aren't necessarily aware we're doing it. I'm not immune. I know I gravitate towards the same types of relationships, the same types of people. But I'm aware of it and when I see that I'm following a script that's not always been the most productive for me (such as taking a job where I have a gut instinct that it's not good for me) I do my best to change the script. It's hard and it takes me out of my comfort zone. How am I going to pay the bills if I don't have a M-F 8-5 job? But, I've made the conscious effort to change that script. We'll see how that pans out.

I was in love once. Well more than once. But one specific time I was madly, crazy in love. And I thought it was going to last forever. But, like all things that are too good to believe, it wasn't true. I was left hurting, for a long time. And I was left wondering what I did wrong and what I could do to change it, fix it, make it all good again. I can't and that's ok. Funny thing was, I didn't use my regular script on that relationship. However, I figured out that he did. He told me enough about his past relationships that I knew ours wouldn't last. He told me how with one woman he was crazy about her, and she was equally crazy about him. It was wonderful while it lasted. But things changed and he ended it. That story scared me and I asked if that was what was going to happen to us. He reassured me it wouldn't. I wanted to believe that was true. But he started pulling away. Life got in the way and it was just too much to do just to stay together. Balancing a career, and child, and a girlfriend became more of a burden than a reward. Anyway, he acted out his script and we broke up.

Now I see signs that the script is being acted out again, and it breaks my heart. There's nothing that can be said, nothing to be done, to make things the way they once were. I feel for those involved as if I were once again involved.

Our scripts can be so damned destructive. Change is scary. It's hard. So why do it? Is it easier to just replay the same old scripts over and over again, hoping next time the ending will be different? Or, better yet, there won't be an ending? If it were only that easy. But, I don't see that it can be. The scripts need to be thrown away. We need to stop repeating our mistakes and do something different.

I hope this didn't offend you. I just felt it needed to be said.

February 14, 2008 Valentine’s Day losers...

I've spent the last 7 days working in a call center, placing orders with florists. It's sad how many people wait until the very last minute to order flowers for Valentine's Day, but we were still getting calls at 2:30 this afternoon. Yeah, right! Like THAT'S going to happen.

There were some rather strange messages going out with the flower orders for V Day. A few that stuck in my mind were:
"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. I love you so much... P.S. Red outfit tonight Please!"
Card that accompanied 2 dozen red roses: "Now will you do that thing I asked?"
Card that accompanied a single rose: "It's more than you deserve."

And I saw one order for a woman who sent roses to herself. The card said something like: "You are the best wife and mother I could have ever hoped for." Why isn't her husband sending those? Or is she trying to make some guy in her office jealous? So sad...

Bwahahahaha!! People are so interesting! I'd love to see the reactions on the faces of the women who got those arrangements.

And from what I understand the day after Valentine's Day is the worst - for the people in the call center that is. Everyone whose order didn't go out because they either waited too long to place it or we couldn't find a florist that would take it calls back to complain. It's amazing how not getting flowers delivered to someone's wife on time leads to so many divorces - according to those men who call in on February 15th. Maybe there's an underlying problem, yes? Hmmmm....

January 22, 2008 My dog thinks she’s a cat...

Yesterday I was outside with the dogs in the back yard. I saw a bird hopping around on the ground, eating seeds or something. I figured he'd fly away as soon as he saw the dogs so I called Skye over. He and Woogie both came bounding over like the goofy baffoons they are. I pointed at the bird and gasped very dramatically and said "What's that?!?!?!" Skye immediately went into hunter mode and lunged at the bird. The bird started to fly away and Skye, in all his obese glory, jumped up and grabbed the bird out of the air. CHOMP!

I screamed in horror and yelled "NO! Drop it!'" And he did, because he's the good dog. However, Woogie isn't a good dog. No no no, she's a bad dog. The poor little partially chewed bird was on the ground wondering what the hell just happened when Woogie dove in and snatched the bird up in her mouth. Again, horror and screaming. I told her to drop it and she just looked at me like "Wha? Drop the tasty treat? Are you crazy?" So I grabbed her by the collar and yelled "Drop it, Drop it, Drop IT!!" And I started smacking her upside the head. She was confused because I've never smack her with such violent enthusiasm. She did release the bird and looked up at me as if to say "Like that, Mom? Drop it like that?" I let go of her collar and said "Good dog." She immediately scooped the bird up again. HORROR!! Yucky bird mouth dog. EEEWWWW!!!! So I once again grabbed her collar and started smacking and yelling at her. Brianna opened her bedroom window and calmly said "She just dropped it. What is it?" I told her that Woogie had a dead bird and she cried "OOOOOHHHH, Poor bird." I was in freak-out mode so my voice was about 5 octaves higher than normal and I screeched "Get out here and help me!" Brianna came out and guarded the corpse while I escorted Woogie back to the house. Skye was being very good and went into the house unassisted. Woogie, however, ended up walking on her hind legs most of the way because I had her front end lifted off the ground since I was hauling her in by her collar. She didn't protest.

Once the dogs were in the house I went outside, removed the body and threw it in the garbage can. I almost cried because if I wouldn't have pointed the bird out to Skye then there wouldn't have been a murder.

November 08, 2007 The arrogance of the "Saved"...and other ramblings.

I was listening to a Christian music radio station yesterday (yes I listen to it from time to time when I'm bored and need something new) and a song came on that really annoyed me. This guy was singing about how he's living for the next life because this one is nothing compared to what's to come. He sang of streets of gold and meeting Jesus. And I thought "WOW - did judgment day come and go and I missed it?" As far as I know we've not been given our boarding passes to the afterlife yet so how does he know where he's going? Did God personally send him a free pass to Heaven?

I know there's stuff in the bible about what you need to do to be saved. There is a scripture that reads "Many are invited, but few are chosen" Matt 22:14. It can be translated many ways; my study bible says it means that God calls all men and men are held responsible for accepting or rejecting him. You can reject him by indifference, rebellion, or self-righteousness. Self-righteousness you say? Isn't proclaiming to the world that you already know that you're getting into Heaven a bit self-righteous? So I think that guy singing on the radio being a bit arrogant to assume that God has already passed judgment on him and he's going to Heaven.
Not that I'm a theologian by any means, but I did have a Catholic upbringing, and I have read the bible (once all the way through I think). It's been a long time so I don't remember much. I know that vanity is a sin, so I think claiming that you're good enough to get into Heaven is a bit vain, therefore sinful, therefore how does that make you good enough to get into Heaven? Oh, but Jesus died for our sins so we could be forgiven. But isn't it the point to do our best to not sin and live good and pure lives to honor God and try to prove that we are trying to be worthy of His love and all that? Now I'm no pillar of morality nor do I claim to live a "good Christian" lifestyle, but I know enough not to go around claiming "I'm getting into Heaven - neener neener neener."

On a slightly different note:

I've been thinking a lot about the afterlife since my dad died. And I've been watching Ghost Hunters and other various supernatural shows. It seems pretty obvious that there is something going on after we die. No one knows why spirits hang around and don't go on to where ever it is they should be. Obviously not all people hang around or just think of how many ghosts there would be. And sometimes paranormal activity is identified as "not human" or even "evil". I wonder why evil spirits haunt us, possibly even try to possess us, but never any angels. I've never heard of an angelic haunting or possession. Why is that?

I have so many questions when it comes to Christianity and the afterlife. Questions about why I should believe in God when I see contradictions in the bible like this: jealously is a sin, God is a jealous god (Deuteronomy 6:14), and God is perfect. I'll explain why I'm confused and feel this is a contradiction:
*jealously is a sin - that's pretty straightforward.
*God is a jealous god means that he doesn't want us putting another god ahead of him (ie: the golden calf or any other idols).
*God is perfect - anyone who has any sort of Christian background has been taught this.
So the contradiction is if God is perfect and jealously is a sin and He is a jealous god then how can He be perfect?
I'm confused.

August 29, 2007 - My temp gig

My Temp gig

Right now I'm working at a high school in Portland, watching the back door because the front door is closed due to construction. Today a man came in to give us some great news. He told me that he's going to buy the lot across the street and build a gym for the school. I called the front office for back-up.

He told us that he is a hops farmer and he sells Budweiser all of their hops. His great-grandfather bought the land years ago and started farming hops and sold the land/business to his son. Oh, and his mother was born in 1902 and graduated from this school in 1920. She moved here as a child, came by boat from St. Paul MN - down the Willamette. But, if her father (his grandfather) was already here, then why did she come from MN? Hmmm...didn't get to ask him that.

It seems that his company is going to buy the old train station downtown and turn it into a hotel. And he is also the person that started the 4th of July fireworks display at Fort Vancouver. We told him that the school has tried to purchase the lot across the street many times, but the owners aren't selling. This is a private school, so there are no public school issues that may muck up a land sale. He said that he has enough money to buy anything he wants, and for the right price they will sell.

Wow - with all of that money then why does he have such bad teeth? How come he wears a beat up leather jacket and crappy backpack? And why doesn't he have a phone number? Oh, wait - he's waiting for the 1-800 number to get hooked up. Silly me!

July 17, 2007 Heard on the street:

Heard on the street...

"When I talk, it's like the bible, I spit pwophecy!"

Yes, he said pwophecy, totally mispronouncing the word. I snickered to myself and continued on my way. Those silly street punks can be amusing.

March 07, 2007 - My question

my question

I've been struggling with the notion of religion or faith or a higher power for as long as I can remember. Well, not really. At one time I believed everything my mom told me without questioning it. Those days are long past. The question I've struggled with can't really be reduced to one simple question. It's more of an analysis of what I've been taught to believe. I was raised Catholic. That itself could lead to it's own tirade, but I'll leave that for another day. Anyway, in my Catholic upbringing and in the teaching of the holy bible we're told to worship God. But why? Because He created us. We're supposed to look to him as our Savior and Divine Father. But what I'm having trouble with is, again, why? Did He create us just for the sole purpose that we should worship him? That doesn't make sense to me. I understand the whole "free will" idea and that it's our choice and all, but again, why? Why would an omnipotent being create a bunch of little creatures that breed like mad-crazy and destroy so much just so they can shout out praises to him? And why should we want to worship such a being? My questions go deeper than this, but this is all I have time for right now. If you have any comments on this please send them forth.

Saturday, June 10, 2006

Road Rage

I listen to NPR just about every morning on my way it to work. It's nice to listen to the news in the morning without having to hear about Brad and Angelina, or Tom and Katy. Anyway, earlier this week there was a interview with a Harvard professor and his contention that road rage is a diagnosable disorder called Intermittent Explosive Disorder (IED). One description of IED is "where a person had defined episodes of violence precipitated by little provocation." (mental health matters.com) Health AtoZ discribes IED as "IED causes violent behavior such as physical assult, destruction of property, and homicide or violent suicide. Violent, destructive behaviors often begin in childhood and escalate in adult life."

I'm not going to make light of mental disorders, but I feel this one in particular is a bit over the top. I'm sure there is some validity to it. From what I can remember from the story only about 7% or so of the population actually suffer from it. I'm concerned about what will happen when defense attorneys get ahold of this little nugget. It could easily be an excuse for just about any non-premeditated act of violence. Most importantly, it allows people to no longer have responsibility for their actions. That is scary. There are no physical symptoms, so there are no blood tests, urine tests, cat scans or any other type of physical test that could prove or disprove that someone is afflicted. Basically, if you can get a psychologist to say you have IED then you're more of less free to behave however you wish. It's a crutch in a very socially unacceptable way. And thinking of all the ways this disorder could wreak havoc on the general public is intimidating at the least. Acts of road rage, as the story was originally about, could be explained away and possibily excused. It would be much better if once someone is diagnosed with this disorder then their drivers license is revoked. Other physical impairments cause people to lose their drivers license, so why not this one? But it goes far beyond road rage. What about child abuse? Assult? Murder? Would people no longer be held accountable for their actions if they are diagnosed with this disorder? Treatment involves therapy and drugs. So if someone refuses treatment, or says their treatment isn't work, what then? It's all very scary.

I think this disorder should be removed from the list of mental disorders, or retermed as a "temper problem" and the name "Intermittent Explosive Disorder" go to some sort of gastrointestinal or digestive problem. I can see it now, sitting in a restaurant and someone at the next table just lets out a horrible rumbling noise from either the 'attic or the basement', and then says, "Oh excuse me, I have Intermittent Explosive Disorder."

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

They got a pill for that...

I went to see the doctor yesterday because I'm still having a really tough time dealing with my dad's death. I wanted to get some anti-depressants and see if that makes a difference. Oh, and I've been having some dizzy spells lately, too. It seems I have an ear infection, which could have something to do with the dizziness. So, he prescribed some antibiotics for the ear infection, and some nasal spray - something about evening out the pressure inside and outside my ear. And he gave me a prescription for Welbutrin. I've been on it before, several years ago, and I think it will be just fine. I just want to feel normal again. It's been a while since I've been in the drivers seat where my emotions are concerned; I've been in the passenger seat for a bit now. So, anyway, I get home and start looking through my new collection of drugs, reading the warning labels and all that stuff. On the side of the Welbutrin it says "May cause dizziness". How nice....

Thursday, March 16, 2006

I live you

I know it was a typo, an 'i' where there should have been an 'o', but it had an impact. I stopped and thought about it, really thought about it. How trite, how cliche', has "I love you" become? That simple mistake was so beautiful, and it describes how I feel, although I never thought about it that way before. Yes, I live you , too!

Thursday, February 23, 2006

Yeah, that about sums it up.

Ever been driving down the road, took a look in the rear view mirror, noticed how dark and gray the clouds that you've left behind were, and thought "I don't remember them being that dark when I was under them."

Friday, January 27, 2006

What if forever really is FOR-EVER?

I've always struggled with faith, especially organized religions. Maybe it comes from being raised Catholic and being forced to go to church, or maybe it comes from trying to understand all the contradictions woven into religion. As of late I've started wondering about the afterlife and why we feel the need to believe there is such a thing. Is it because we want to hang our hats on the notion that if we do good then we'll be rewarded with eternal happiness, and those that do bad will burn forever in the pits of Hell? It's comforting, yes, but I don't think that's where it's at. I think it's deeper, and somewhat hidden. Maybe not so much hidden as just not something we think about.

It's known that I lost my father last month. It's a loss deeper than any I've ever felt. This has lead me to my current line of reasoning about why we have the desire for faith, religion, and a belief in an afterlife. I think it's not so much about securing our place in Heaven, or where ever you want to believe you'll go, but more about not having to say goodbye forever to those you've lost. Follow me down this road, if you will. Forever...what is that? It's hard to imagine, really. There is no end to it. When something is lost forever that means you'll NEVER see it again. When someone dies, then techincally we'll never see them again. Is it that this is so painful that our fragile little infantile minds cannot grasp it? Who wants to go on knowing they will NEVER see that loved one again? Enter religion, faith, and the afterlife. Now, if I'm good, and I say my prayers and do what the bible, or what ever holy book I choose to believe, is correct, then I'll get to see my dad again. My dad, and everyone else that goes before me. How wonderful! What a gift! But we don't know, do we? This could so easily go into a tirade about controlling people's behaviors using religion and the promise of seeing those we miss again, but that's not my point. My point is do we need to believe in religion and the afterlife as a way of coping with loss? Does it make it a less bitter pill to swallow? I'm sure it does, for those who truely believe. I'm still wandering around, searching.

Sunday, January 22, 2006

of paper and bows

Most of the gifts I've received as of late have been very beautifully wrapped, but the boxes were empty. What a disappointment. Nothing there, just space. I much prefer to open something full of wonderful suprises, something rich and true and real, something that I've been wanting and waiting for. And I feel I have it now. It's been there for some time, hiding in plain sight. I've been distracted by the pretty, shiny boxes of nothing. I'm tired of opening them so I'll throw them all away now.

I'm coming out of the darkest period in my life. It's probably not that much for some, but for me it's been the inky blackness of a deep sea squid fight. I've been handed a glowstick, then another, and another. It's not a lot of light, but my eyes couldn't handle too much right now anyway. My glowsticks are serving me well. There's light again, even though it's still a small glow. The accumulation of glowsticks will provide me with enough light to find my way out of this dark, cold place. I'm approaching happiness.

Saturday, January 07, 2006

It's all in the accounting

I'm an observer. If all the world is a stage, then I spend most of my time in the audience. I like it there, and I will sit and judge your performance. If you don't know the difference between you're and your then I will assume you are not paying attention, you assume no one else is paying attention, or you're just not that bright. As my daughter's friend would jokingly say "Yeah, that's how I roll!" Anyway, back to my observations. As of late I've noticed some pretty serious attempts that people are making to get their fragile little eogs stroked. It amuses me, but also makes me a bit sad. We all have our insecurities, I know I do. But I would like to think that I've outgrown the need to play silly little games in order to placate those insecurities. So I sit back and do what I enjoy, I watch. I see through excuses for certain behaviors as if they were a sheer fabric covering a sunny window. Why are the ones who you'd think would need this ego gratifying buffoonery the least the same ones who participate in it the most? This isn't junior high school anymore. If you need someone else to give you self worth then you'll never have it. You see, it's sort of like money to some people, the more you get, the more you think you need. Some of us are happy with what we have, and can feel we have enough without needing others to verify it for us. Others need that accountant, that so-called expert, to tell us that our account is full and we can sit back and relax.

Friday, January 06, 2006

on a scale of one to mom

I spent some time with my mom last Saturday because she was having a really bad day. She told me that she's never been so lonely in her whole life, and she cried and cried. She and my dad were together for over 36 years, now he's gone, and she's feeling lost, dead, alone. I've felt pretty lonely before, and I've cried over lost love. But, thinking about that, and trying to fathom what my mother is going through leaves me feeling pretty ashamed of myself for thinking my poor little broken heart was such a tragedy. I've been through break-ups that have left me feeling half alive but mostly dead. I know heartbreak. But to even try to compare those little contusions to what my mom must be feeling? I can't think of a more unfair comparision. I have friends who are feeling bad because they've lost the one they loved. Things happen, people grow apart and break-up. It sucks. I know. A few months ago I lost the one who I thought was The One. I've never felt loss like that before. The failure of my marriage didn't shake my foundation the way this one did. I'm still reeling from the concussion. But it's getting better, and when I put it in perspective, what I lost really wasn't that much. It was a 6 month whirl-wind love affair. I dropped my guard and got swooped up. Lesson learned. Move on, nothing left here to see. Anyway, yep, been hurt and lived to tell the tale. I do have empathy for those who have also been hurt. However, I do not have empathy for those who think that their hurt is far more painful or immobilizing than someone elses. Now I'm judging on a scale that puts my mom's loss at one end and losing your house key at the other. Don't be so arrogant as to think I will place your pain anywhere near my mom, it's not gonna happen.

Saturday, December 17, 2005 (Tearful goodbye)

Tearful goodbye

The last two months have been hell. I won't sugar coat it, I can't. I've literally been watching my father die. I remember as a child thinking someday I'd have to go through this. And I also remember starting to cry when I thought about it, so I'd quickly banish the thought. Well, here it is. That horrible thing I knew was coming, but also knew I wasn't ready for. And I have this horrible image left of how he was before he passed. I don't want that. I wouldn't have wanted to not be there, but to witness that, it was so terrible. He was in a coma, slipped into it last night, so he wasn't feeling any pain. The rest of us were all feeling more than enough. It was high time that he finally was pain-free. But I want to remember who he was, before he got sick, before his hair fell out from the chemo, before he gave up. And that's who I will remember. I'll remember the man who, at 72 years old, would come to my house and load up my broken lawn mower, take it back to his house, fix it, and then return it (and would remind me that it would run better if I actually put gas in it). I'll remember the father who was there whenever my car broke down. The daddy who told stories about me that embarrassed me, but didn't really embarrass me. He called me Squeek, or Squeeker, when I was a baby, and it stuck. I'm 35 and I still get called Squeek. I'm gonna remember his sense of humor. Just last week he was trying to figure out a way to rig up a small clear plastic hose, similar to his catheter hose, and make it squirt water, so he could fool a friend into thinking the catheter was leaking and he was getting peed on. Even in his doped up stupor he was a prankster. He could barely describe what he wanted to do, but when I figured out what he was saying and told him it was gross he got a big smile on his face. Today, at my parents house, my ex-husband and one of my ex-boyfriends were there, not for me, but for my dad. They loved him, because of the wonderful person he was.

It's been a long day. It's been hard. I knew it was coming, but I was hoping it would be after Christmas. I don't know why. I supposed it's better this way, because he's no longer in pain. My mom can sleep, without having to listen for him, in case he needs something. The hospice people are coming to remove all the stuff, the hospital bed and the wheelchair that was never used. The waiting is over, which sounds cold and heartless, but it's not meant to. Life has been on hold. We have all been spending as much free time with him as we can, knowing that time is short. It's time to mourn, and then I'll be able to flip the switch back to 'on'. I've not been me for some time now. Sort of a shadow of me. I drift in and out of 'me-ness', but that's about it. So, I'll evolve into a different form of me, and move forward. I don't have my daddy anymore, and it's so surreal. It just doesn't seem possible. I'm sorta in denial, or something similar, I suppose. It's not Mom and Dad anymore. It's Mom now. And I have to be strong for her.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Just can't get enough...

I picked up a part-time job, in addition to my full-time job, for the holiday season. I'm working retail, as a cashier. Slave wages, but it's a little extra money for the holidays, and I get to meet lots of interesting people. Today, at work, a woman in her late fourties or early fifties, came through my line. She had a question about an item. It seems she needed adult diapers and we only had one package left in her size on the shelf. She asked if we had any in the back. One of my co-workers did some research really quick to see what we had, and it seemed we didn't have any more. So, she did a little more research to see if any of our stores in the area had any, and unfortunately they were all out of stock too. Now, I'm talking about adult diapers, not some hot new toy or electronics. So, my co-worker reported her findings to the woman, telling her that we may get some in on a truck in the next few days. We just never know what's coming in until it gets here. The customer's response was, "It must be the hot item this season.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

I said soul, not sole

I fell down, and skinned my soul. It's getting better, scabbed over nicely. I'm trying not to pick at it, because I don't want the scar to be too noticable. But I'm sure some people will notice no matter how perfectly it heals. Unfortunately, this isn't a new thing for me. It seems that I'm pretty clumsy sometimes. Sometimes it's my fault, and other times I get pushed or shoved.

And sometimes life just picks you up, lifts you high into the air, then throws you down, knocking the wind out of you, kicks you in the stomach and laughs at you. At that point it's up to you as to how you respond. You could just lay there and cry about it. I usually lay still for a little while, assess my situation, then get up and head in a different direction. Crying helps a little, but it doesn't change anything. It's more of a release mechanism than anything else. It serves it's purpose, but you have to do something next. There's always something to do next...

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

Chain of events...

I took a fairly heavy blow somewhat recently, that sort of knocked me off my axis. I'm left feeling like a washing machine with an unbalanced load. Everything still works right, the job gets done, but it's obvious that something's wrong. This unpleasant incident set off a whole chain of events. I'm finding myself embarking on a path that, little over a month ago, I would have never seen myself on. I'm not opposed to change, rather I embrace it. I can handle just about anything that comes my way. However, I would like to think that I'm in charge of what happens in my life, rather than just an observer. Unfortunately, sometimes things happen, through no fault of your own, and you must accept it. I once heard the phrase "change doesn't occur in a vacuum." I wasn't sure I agreed, or even understood that. Now I can't deny that logic. Basically, if someone changes, those involved with that person must change too. If I decided to stop logging onto this website then those I communicate with would be forced to either find alternate ways of getting in contact with me, or lose that contact. Had the event not happened I would not have gotten a speeding ticket a few weeks ago, I would not have lost time at work, I would not have been forced to reevaluate my financial situation, I would not have decided to take on a part time job, and I would not have had that fucking car accident last Friday - which happened as I was going to a job interview. Now my car is sitting in my driveway, I'm afraid to drive it, and the bitch that hit me is lying to the insurance investigator about the circumstances involving the accident. I'm frustrated. I'm annoyed with the insurance company and their appearant lack of empathy. I can't say that I'd want everything to go back to how it was before that one event occurred, because I believe that it happened for a reason and that there's something better out there. But nonetheless I do wonder how things would be right now if it never happened.

Monday, October 24, 2005

Boxes on trucks

Someone once told me that I was important to them. I asked why. This is what that person told me:

"Here's how you're important. I don't keep a lot of friends. What I mean is, I have a fair amount of people around who I get along with and some of them have tried to become friends with me. I'm pretty private and the ones who really know me will say that I'm really easy to get to know but impossible to really know. As a result, I spend time deflecting people and their attempts at a relationship. In my own little unhealthy analogy, I put them in boxes in the back of my truck, drive down the road with the tailgate down, and if they fall off?.......hmm. I box most people. Partly because it's safer than getting messy with them and their lives, but mostly because it's easier. It may make me sound like a horse's ass that my statement is that "you're important because I haven't kicked you away", but remember the source: I hope it doesn't. "

I've carried that around with me for quite some time now. It makes me feel special. I am truely blessed...

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Using bone fractures as an analogy...

This house is a mess, but it's my house. I pay the mortgage, the insurance, and the bills. Me. No one else. That's how I like it, or so I thought. Yes, I'm independent, self-sufficient, determined to do it all myself. That's who I've been for so long now, I'm not sure I could change. It seems that everytime I think I might be able to depend on someone else for something I get shot dead, point blank, in cold blood. So, here I sit, bleeding again. I'm confused, disoriented, but once again reassured that depending on just myself is the best way to be. It's lonely, sure, but it's so very much safer. I'm secure in my insecurities. I encase myself in a shell with walls that grow thicker each time a crack appears. It's sort of like when you break a bone and in the healing process extra calcium grows where the break occured, providing more protection. If that bone is close to the surface, like a collar bone, then the calcium bump is visible under the skin. It's not attractive, but it's there for a reason. It's a defense against future breaks, but it also serves as a reminder. "Better be careful out there, or you'll get hurt again."

Signed up, then never showed up...

Yeah, it's true. I started this blog many moons ago, then did nothing with it. In an attempt to repent for that sin I will post a shit-load of blogs I wrote some time ago, and catch anyone who cares up to speed. Additionally, I'll post the original date that these were written. This will probably take me a little time, but I'm currently unemployed so what the hell...