Lost Shanty

Glorifying Virginia Tech killer

2007-04-20T13:05:00.000-07:00

Ya know the reason Cho sent a media package to NBC is because he wanted air time, infamy, in death. I’m as curious as the next person, but I don’t think we should be glorifying him. What we should be glorifying are the kids he gunned down in cold blood. If he knew his actions would have the media spotlighting the very people he despised would he have done this?? I don’t think so, he knew his face would be the one plastered everywhere, he knew his message would get out. We are rewarding these actions and encouraging this type of behavior as a sure fire way to get your point across. The focus should be on the students he so cowardly murdered. He is becoming a martyr to every kid out there who has been bullied. Whether their fantasies are this extreme or not, they dream of a way to ‘make them pay.’ He wanted to be portrayed as a sacrificial victim, a hero to the underdog. As much as I do not understand this mentality, I do know that he is getting exactly what he wanted. Everyone knows his name, everyone knows his message, everyone has seen his face numerous times, everyone can read his play, his actions are being justified by our society. The satisfaction he must have gotten the 6 days prior, as he was filming and writing what would inevitably over shadow the wonderful lives he cut short, is infuriating. The smile on his face during that week was a pompous smirk; he walked the halls feeling empowered, stronger then ever before. He got what he wanted. If that video was never shown, his atrocities would have been in vain. Instead we rewarded him.
How many of us even know one name of the 33 killed? What they were like? If they had a message for the world? Here are just a few names I found online, along with a little about them…Here’s a great site I found that has all the victims …
http://www.boston.com/news/education/higher/articles/2007/04/19/the_victims/?page=1

.Ross Abdallah Alameddine, 20, of Saugus, Mass., according to his mother, Lynnette Alameddine…. Alameddine’s Facebook page shows he wished a friend a happy birthday before heading off to class yesterday. He lists musical interests from Jim Morrison to the Beastie Boys as well as several movies and books.

• Christopher James Bishop, 35, according to Darmstadt University of Technology in Germany, where he helped run an exchange program…… According to his Web site, Bishop spent four years living in Germany, where he "spent most of his time learning the language, teaching English, drinking large quantities of wheat beer, and wooing a certain fraulein."
The "fraulein" was Bishop's wife, Stephanie Hofer, who also teaches in Virginia Tech's German program.
• Ryan Clark, 22, of Martinez, Ga., biology and English major, according to Columbia County Coroner Vernon Collins…., Bryan Clark on Tuesday described his twin as someone who could do "anything he put his mind to doing." He said their mother raised them to "not discount or say you can't do something until you've tried it."
That's why it wasn't surprising that Ryan had three majors, played in the band and planned on going into neurosurgery when he graduated, Bryan Clark said.
• Jocelyne Couture-Nowak, A French instructor from Truro, Nova Scotia, Jocelyne Couture-Nowak moved 8 years ago to Virginia Tech, where her husband, Jerzy Nowak, teaches horticulture. She had worked passionately to spread the French language, and was described as vibrant, enthusiastic and dynamic by the vice president of administration, Bernie MacDonald, at Nova Scotia Agricultural College, where she taught French.

• Daniel Perez Cueva, 21, killed in his French class, according to his mother, Betty Cueva, of Peru…. (JP-wb) — The mother of 21-year-old Daniel Pérez Cueva, a Peruvian student killed in yesterday’s shooting massacre at Virginia Tech, was an outstanding sportsman who excelled in swimming, his mother Betty Cueva said. He was a member of Peru’s National Swimming Federation.

• Kevin Granata, age unknown, engineering science and mechanics professor, according to Ishwar K. Puri, the head of the engineering science and mechanics department…He leaves behind his parents, a brother, two sisters, his wife and three children, Alex, 13, Eric, 12, and Ellen, 11. Kevin Granata earned his master's degree in physics from Purdue in 1986 and built a resume that made him a nationally known name in biomechanical engineering, working on movement dynamics in cerebral palsy. His school Web site says he published 67 works through 2005 and worked at Johns Hopkins University, Ohio State, the University of Virginia and Wake Forest University.

• Caitlin Hammaren, 19, of Westtown, N.Y., a sophomore majoring in international studies and French, according to Minisink Valley, N.Y., school officials who spoke with Hammaren's family. Caitlin Hammaren rode a horse named Poet and once dreamed of being an equestrian chiropractor.She was president of her high school chorus, one of the top students at Minisink Valley High School, “a beautiful, sparkling” girl with an infectious smile, according to some of the people who knew her best.At Virginia Tech, she became a resident assistant and “mother hen” to her dorm mates.
• Jeremy Herbstritt, 27, of Bellefonte, Pa., according to Penn State University, his alma mater and his father's employer…. Jeremy Herbstritt, 27, of Bellefonte, Pa., received several academic scholarships and earned two undergraduate degrees from Pennsylvania State University before enrolling at Virginia Tech last fall as a graduate student, according to a Penn State spokesman. Family friends said the tall, lanky young man was a devout Catholic, a cross-country runner and a civil engineering student who wanted to pursue an environmental career.
• Emily Jane Hilscher, a 19-year-old freshman from Woodville, according to Rappahannock County Administrator John W. McCarthy, a family friend…. She came to Virginia Tech from rural Rappahannock County and was majoring in animal and poultry sciences.

• Jarrett L. Lane, according to Riffe's Funeral Service Inc. in Narrows, Va… The University of Florida wanted Jarrett Lane in its graduate school of coastal engineering and had even thrown in financial aid.
The relieved senior sent an instant message to his friend Amanda Bishop, and they made plans to drive down to Gainesville after he graduated in May so he could look for an apartment.
.
• Mary Karen Read, 19, of Annandale, Va. according to her aunt, Karen Kuppinger, of Rochester, N.Y. Ms. Berrios said Ms. Read played clarinet and wanted to become an elementary school teacher. She also loved baking. "I loved it when she baked cookies because they were heavenly," Ms. Berrios said.
Caitlin Hammaren, 19, of Westtown, N.Y., was a sophomore majoring in international studies and French, according to officials at her former school district. "She was just one of the most outstanding young individuals that I've had the privilege of working with in my 31 years as an educator," said John P. Latini, principal of Minisink Valley High School, where she graduated in 2005. "Caitlin was a leader among our students."
Daniel Perez Cueva, 21,.. "Anything he put his mind to, he accomplished it," said Hugo Quintero, a close friend and former classmate at C.D. Hylton High School in Woodbridge, Va. "He's a guy who not only dreams, but makes dreams come true."

…..I am not saying I didn’t watch every bit that I could about this deranged kid, I read his play, I looked at the pictures…I want to know what kind of monster could do this too. I want to understand his warped mind, for no other reason then to shake my head in disbelief at. I’m not proud of my morbid curiosity; I’m part of the problem as well. So, I decided to try and get to know the people he murdered, to put the focus where it should be, the killer should not be the center of our attention.

Cancer Sucks...the end. #14

2007-02-12T15:01:00.000-08:00

Robert (Rughead)
11-20-50 2-2-07

My Dad passed away at 6:26am on 2-2-07. It’s been five months. The doctors were right on from the start. It went like clock work. He was diagnosed on August 21st. Not feeling well, but as a whole, looked like the man I knew all my life, such a difference from the person who lay in this house just two days ago. I came to Colorado on the 19th of January. I planned to spend a couple of weeks, to visit. I thought I’d travel back and forth for awhile…till the time came.

No matter what the doctors said, deep down I didn’t believe this disease would claim him so quick. I said the words, I mulled them over, I drilled them into my head, I cried over them, I thought I had accepted them, but his passing has shown me that I didn’t believe them. I’m in shock. I’m numb. He was here just days ago, talking, laughing. Over a forty-eight hour period he visibly weakened. The hospital bed that took up the living room became his everything. He told me to be strong, right after he told me he was scared. I told him I was to. He held my hand; a tear slid down his cheek and with eyes that could see your soul, he asked me to stay by his side till the end. He said our relationship was so much more then father/daughter, I was his closest friend through this. “If you’re here I’ll be o-kay.” I said I would and I did.

The last week of his life was filled with many emotions. My family, his siblings, which were never a constant in our life came to say goodbye. With mixed emotions I kept my mouth shut. Inside I was angry that my daddy was the reason for their sudden devotion, their regrets, and their empty pledge to keep in contact. Resentfully I watched them whisper their last words to my father.
As the end approached I watched as his body turned black and blue, the oxygen abandoning his limbs in a useless attempt to save the vital organs. At night he cried out in pain as his feet slowly died. We added more morphine to his plethora of pain meds, and this seemed to help, unless he was just too high to tell us it wasn’t. He whispered, “I love you, Kee” (from childhood he was Daa and I was Kee) the day before he died. Each of us, my brother, my step mother and myself told him it was o-kay to go. In our own way we did our best to comfort his body, mind and soul. We lied and told him we were alright, to relax and go to sleep, stop struggling and fighting.

I will never see him again. I can’t call him on the phone. That is very strange to me and this fact has not really gotten its grip on me yet. I am going through the motions, and as long as I’m busy I don’t have to feel the reality of his absence. My world is completely different, there’s a hollow feel to it, an emptiness in my heart that makes me so fucking angry. I rock back and forth trying to shake this feeling, this weight that lays on my soul, but it stays. I can’t cry enough; I can’t scream enough, I can’t find anything to ease this pain. I can’t grasp this. It’s all so wrong. My daddy….he’s gone.
And where did he go? Is he ok?Heaven and hell, are they real? I am not a religious person. I do believe that there’s a God or Goddess, a higher power out there, but heaven and hell? A place for the good and the bad? I don’t believe that. Whatever Being created us would not create us so differently, so diverse, and with free will just to punish us for not following one strict path. This Being, all powerful, just, and righteous does not make mistakes right? I could go on, but my point, as simply as possible, is just that if there is a God, in the Christian sense of the word, he/she (or both) knew what she/he was doing. Whether we actually have freewill or we are pre-destined to be who we are, it’s not a mistake, and to be punished when it’s all over is the same as saying that that power made a mistake in our creation…and if that’s the case this power is guilty as well.
Also, I don’t know that I believe our loved ones watch over us after they die. This is a little selfish to me, to think that there is nothing left but to sit and watch someone. It gives people comfort to think they have not really left us. Self serving and not at all realistic in my eyes.
Then there’s the idea that those who pass are reunited with loved ones who have passed before them, this is also hard for me to believe. It’s a nice, comfortable thought, but wouldn’t heaven be pretty crowded by now? And as much as we love the people that have gone before us, would it really be ‘heaven’ to spend eternity with them? What would we do? You can only roam around on soft fluffy clouds for so long.
Reincarnation is another theory, which I can’t fully wrap my head around. I guess it could happen…like a ‘do over’ in the bigger scheme of things. If you don’t learn all you need to ‘go on’ you come back to try again, each time advancing. Like maybe Gandhi was an old soul.

Or maybe we just go to sleep and that’s it. That’s not very comforting, and seems too simple for this complicated existence.
All of these thoughts are abbreviated of course and when I lay down to go to sleep there are plenty more ‘what if’s’. I don’t think I have ever put so much thought into what happens after you die. I’m just worried about him. Not because I think he’s burning, or stuck in-between places, just because it’s the unknown. Dieing is like a trip to an unfamiliar place you’ve never been to, and in this world of choices you have no choice but to go, you don’t know what the ‘ride’ will be like, nobody can come with you, and you can’t call home when you get there. Pretty scary to me.
I have no regrets through this process. I’m happy with the time I spent with him and the talks we had. I was able to say all the things I needed to and to ask the questions I needed the answers to. I know his favorite season was Fall, and his favorite place was Red Rocks. I was able to ease his mind in regards to some things pertaining to how I was raised. He thanked me for that. We talked for hours about everything and nothing; some people never get that chance. I’m grateful for every minute, and I will miss him to no end. Some say, with time my pain will ease….I don’t believe this either…I think with time you grow used to the pain, you grow accustom to it, you build a tolerance and it doesn’t seem as severe, but its still there.

I love you, my Daa, my daddy, my father, my friend.

I'll light a candle for you everynight.

It's a brand new year 13

2006-12-31T22:22:00.000-08:00

So it’s New Years Eve, 11:54pm. I’m watching some really stupid movie, not even worth mentioning. I’ve been thinking about my dad and the times we spent driving in the mountains. I thought I’d post a few pictures.

I’ve got a plan to go visit. The 19th of January I’m heading out, I’ll be there for 10 to 12 days give or take. I’m so excited to get back. I'd seriously like to blow Kansas off the map, nothing personal; it would just be allot easier to get to Colorado without that pesky state in the way.
It’s really hard for me to be here, especially when he feels like crap. I feel vulnerable in a strange way, like any minute someone is going to pull a plug and everything is going to go spinning uncontrollably. I talk to him every other day or so and on the days when he’s beaten, hacking, and sick I feel at odds with everything, so open, exposed, like my personal space has been invaded. I walk around in a cloud, or rather under one. On those days it’s the end, nothing else, just the end, the decline, and that it.

On the other hand, when he’s feeling good, it’s like everything is pretty normal. I can go about my day for the most part carefree. On days like that it seems as if the sick dreadful days were just a flash in the bigger scheme of things. As if it were silly to even have worried.
Come to think about it, no matter what kind of day it is, yesterday feels so far away. Just a kind of memory that the new day over shadows. Anyway, he’s feeling fairly well lately. I can’t wait to see him and take another drive!

More from the rollercoaster. (12)

2006-12-11T20:41:00.000-08:00

It’s been awhile since my last post. It seems I’m more apt to write when things aren’t so great. I’m back in St. Louis now, have been for a little over a month. My dad didn’t need me anymore!! Over the last few weeks I was there, he gained a lot of strength, he wasn’t on the oxygen as much, and he began to do things for himself. Of course neither of us really wanted me to leave, but to stay longer would have been a vacation that I couldn’t afford. Things had gotten as back to normal as they were going to get to. The death that seemed to loom over his head dissipated, seemingly avoided for the moment, and the tragedy, a painful fog of a memory. As he regained his strength he jumped right back into his failing business and mounting bills, stress and frustration filled every room, every hour of every day. No matter how many times he was told to slow down and take it easy, he would only do it if physically he could do no more. Then he’d collapse into his chair, pop a couple pills and sleep till the next days disaster began. I have to admit it got to me. I’m not sure if their life is always chaotic or if the majority of it was a result of what we were going through. I didn’t grow up in an angry, frustrated household, and the home I share with my husband isn’t like that so I was on edge all the time. I found myself waiting, holding my breath, longing for a good day. I was also very confused, I’m not in his shoes, but I would think a person would be damn grateful to be alive. After receiving good news from the doctor about the tumor shrinking and his exceptional reaction to the Chemo, I felt he’d been handed another chance. Even if only for a year or two. So, his attitude was surprisingly ungrateful to me. In a fit of frustration, he let slip, that we’d be better off without him. That felt like a punch. He came to me later and told me how much he regretted the words, that he didn’t feel that way and that until all of this came about he did think we would be better off, he knew better now. It felt good to hear him say that, but his actions didn’t reflect it. It’s like he completely forgot what he’d just gone through. The tears, the begging, the desperation one feels when they’ve been told they are going to die. The fucking dreadful moaning and scary nighttime rush of ICU nurses to his room. All forgotten, drowned in a ‘why me attitude’. As much as I wanted to be there, share in the “good health” he was ‘enjoying’ I was loosing my mind. It made me sad and a part of me wanted to get out before THIS is what I remembered.
As far as he was concerned he HAD to do everything, he had no choice. No more drives to the mountains, no more happy moments to save for when this was all over. Stress prevailed and because he was able to do for himself I came back home. I miss him. I miss him so much it hurts.
I think he’s slowed down though, accepted the fact that he can not be who he was before all of this happened. It hurts his ego and his pride, but he’s rational for the most part. He got pretty sick after I left and had to go back into the hospital, I think that jarred him some.
When I first got home everything seemed abnormal, off kilter. I felt out of place, if not in the wrong place. I was ‘in-between’ for a few weeks. Struggling with guilt for being home and guilt for leaving home in the first place. Then slowly things came full circle, my home was my home again, my job was something I looked forward to again. People stopped asking about my dad as soon as they seen me. They still ask, but I don’t think they really want to know, it’s just polite. Like when someone say’s “Hi, How ya?”, they don’t really expect you to go into detail. It’s o-kay though, I lie and say he’s good and we move on to a less depressing topic.
For the past month I’ve felt pretty good about a lot of things. He seemed to be doing well and I felt my being home was o-kay. I’m planning on driving back in a month or so to visit. I got so close to my brother while I was there it doesn’t seem right that I haven’t seen him in this long. He’s going into the police academy in January; he’ll make a good cop. Not cocky, down to earth, nothing to prove to anyone. Dad and Patty are talking about moving here, which would set my soul at ease and excite me to no end. It seems like we’re all optimistic, planning things, looking forward to the coming days. Dads pretty chipper and motivated. He has something to look forward to and more importantly something to DO! He’s not good at sitting idle and he gets physically over exerted easily, so planning helps him focus on something, it keeps him sane.
All things have to come to and end though. Good or bad, they don’t last forever.
Three days ago I spoke to his doctor. They’ve started Chemo again. He has spots on his liver. He said he was sorry. He actually said sorry to me! I think my heart went numb. I am so tired of this shit. I’m worn out. He’s got six months if he doesn’t respond to treatment, maybe a year if he does. There’s a good chance it could spread to his bone or his brain. I just feel beat up, emotionally undone. Every day there’s this recurring wave of ache that gathers in my stomach, reaches up through my chest and finds it’s way into my head. My face gets hot, my eyes well up, and it pushes hard against the back of my head. Then as quickly as it came, I choke in a gasp of air, and it’s gone. I’m left with a headache and tears that won’t fall. I feel like all the laughter in the world is fake; a cruel joke. I feel guilty laughing sometimes. He was never getting better, it was just a joke. I still can’t imagine what life will be like without him. I say the words, I know he’s dieing, but the truth of it doesn’t exist. Now, I wish I was there. How he must be feeling, I can’t stand the thought. I want to go for a drive with him, take both of our minds off this horribly intimidating, unavoidable journey. What it must feel like, waiting to die? Where do you go? What happens? The utter isolation of it; no matter how many loved ones are around you, you are alone. There’s no changing your mind, no ‘do overs’. In this world of choices, it’s hard to accept.

crazy but amusing...Cancer #11

2006-11-04T22:22:00.000-08:00

Dad has been acting strangely since he came home from the hospital. I’m not sure if it’s the medication or the tumor. Delirious is a better description. He’s been having conversations with himself...it’s hard to explain. It used to be isolated to his restless nights or day time naps. He’d toss and turn, mumble something, and occasionally he’d spit out a complete sentence. Lately though he’s taken to weird out bursts while he’s presumably awake. For example; the other day, at about 9am, while on our way to treatment, he did it. He’d been up for about an hour, had breakfast, coffee, etc… He’s tired but not asleep. Sitting in the passenger seat after about ten minutes he suddenly blurts out, “Well, I thought that’s what he said, and why wouldn’t he?” A little startled but, unfazed I wait for more. . This isn’t the first time he’s done this, lately I’ve begun trying to engage him in more conversation...and why not, it’s harmless fun! So I softly ask, “What?”, and cringe slightly expecting him to say “What, what?” and spoil the fun for me. When he first started doing this I was at a loss for what to do. Should I call him on it, wake him up, or just sit and act like it was nothing? Well my bewilderment passed and, I’m curious… plus it is a little amusing in a twisted sort of way. Anyway this time, seemingly surprised by what just came out of his mouth, he glances over at me and matter-of-factly says, “We weren’t just taking were we?” Clearly he thought we were. I told him no, and decided to ask a few questions. “Who were you talking to?”, “I don’t know, it was just a piece of a conversation before I came to.” “So, you were sleeping?” “Sort of, it feels weird. One minute I’m talking to someone and then next thing I know I’m waking myself. Until recently, I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or if I were actually speaking out loud”. I believe it’s the medication and the fact that he hasn’t gotten into REM sleep in a long while. A body needs that you know. I shouldn’t make fun though; it is pretty unnerving for him sometimes. He seems to be aware of it for the most part, and it only happens when he’s tired or fresh out of sleep. I’m not really worried; we’ll just talk to the doctor about it. It is strange though and can be a little embarrassing. In his first day of chemo he fell asleep quickly and began talking and ‘eating’, grasping at imaginary food. Every once and a while he’d catch himself, wake up all groggy eyed and look around the room to see if any one was looking. Yea, lucky for me, a room full of strangers with not much else to do but watch the crazy bearded guy try to eat the pillow in his lap and converse with himself! At least he’s light hearted about the whole thing; he gave me permission to wake him if he starts to make a fool of himself. Thing is, it only takes a second for him to begin a discussion. His eyes droop, his lips part, and he’s off. So I decided he needed his rest and I needed some fresh air...

daily trip...Cancer #10

2006-11-01T16:49:00.000-08:00

So it’s about 20 miles to the hospital, approximately 30 minutes.
Five days a week. It seems each morning is a different trip.
Yesterday, music was the background distraction.
In the foreground was the truth to the task.
It’s hard to stay ‘here’, not to wander.
The thoughts that weigh heavy on my spirit are better left inside...
for the moment. At least easier. Today, it was silence, and rage at
the people in the rearview mirror going about their day
without a care. Maybe it was jealousy.
Whatever, it was uncomfortable.
So, I quietly laid my hand on his leg and cried, unnoticed.
For the inevitable is unavoidable and punishing to my core.

chemical party...Cancer #9

2006-10-16T23:17:00.000-07:00

Dad’s on a different, more aggressive chemo treatment. Apparently the one they’ve replaced was sort of typical. When this all started his condition demanded a fast course of action so, there wasn’t much time to personalize the plan. He has radiation 5 days a week as well as 5 chemo treatments. Then a 3 week break, than back on again. Well he’s had the radiation from the start…he actually glows a little a night.
Anyway, the chemo has been kicked up a few notches. Four of the five sessions last about 2 hours, give or take, and one lasts 6 hours. This chemical, Cisplatin, is pretty abrasive on the kidneys and stomach. They give an insane amount of fluids, including anti-nausea medication, to flush the kidneys and coat the stomach. It’s more abrasive but, they’ve had good results using this plan on his type of cancer. The doc said, “He’s a young, strong, and healthy guy, besides the uninvited beast that’s taken residence in his chest, and so far he’s tolerated the treatments really well” Ok, so he didn’t say EXACTLY that I may have added a little color to it. The idea is the same though. Anyway, we went in for his 1st out-patient chemo treatment yesterday. As new as all of this is, I was not ready for the chemical party room. Ten cream colored recliners wrapped around a small oval room. The farthest points couldn’t have been twenty four feet. I’m really bad at judging distance so if that’s far I’m not giving you the right idea! I could take fifteen to twenty regular steps from one end to the other. There are a few chairs filled with different types of people, in many different stages of this disease. Like the couple at the far end. If I had to guess I’d say they were in their late twenties. He’s the patient, wearing grey plaid jammy’s, slippers, and a grey shirt. Holding his hand is a pretty, dark haired woman, wearing jeans and a sweater. They have earphones on that are connected to a portable DVD player. They look very comfortable and content, smiling every now and then, I assume at the movie they are watching. He doesn’t look any sicker then me. I wonder if they were as taken with this room as I am the first time they stepped in.
Two chairs up is a woman that I had mistaken for a man. She is so tiny and frail looking. She’s wearing a light blue stocking cap, jeans, and a sweat shirt. She has no hair left, no brows and nothing peeking from under the cap. Next to her is a much healthier woman, they haven’t said a word to each other. They are very docile and sullen, so different from the first couple.
Next to them sits a woman in her mid to late twenties. Unlike everyone else she hasn’t made eye contact with me, no nod of hello, or half cocked knowing smile. You can see that the sickness just beginning to dig its claws into her, the color in her cheeks still hanging on. She’s wearing a smart looking head wrap, sweats, cute shoes and a blanket. She’s a very pretty woman. From just looking at her, I imagine she’s a very strong person, resolute in successfully kicking this diseases ass. She gives an air of confidence in the simplest of actions, the way she smiles at the nurse who hooks her up to what I’ve coined the poison dispenser, or the way she maneuvers the machine when she steps out of the room. She makes me wish I knew her, there’s depth to her eyes, a certain intensity that makes me wonder what she’s like outside of this room. If I get the chance maybe I’ll introduce myself as the daughter of the lung cancer guy. If seems the people who strike up conversation do so by asking what kind of cancer your there for. Seems fitting but, no less strange to me, I guess it goes right along with this whole experience. This room and everyone in it seem surreal. The sun filtering in from the sky light, as bright and airy as it is, does little to lift the gloomy character of the atmosphere. As I sit next to my dad in the corner of the room, I realize that we are just as foreign and unique to everyone else, yet we’re all connected. My heart aches for everyone here, and their families at home. We are all going through our own personal chaos.

On hold...Cancer #8

2006-10-02T15:16:00.000-07:00

I have never felt so powerless. I don’t really know what I’m doing from day to day. Besides the obvious turmoil, my life is on hold. Accepting the fact that my dad has cancer and that I’ll never see him grow old is hard enough but, adding to that misery are all kinds of thoughts of my suspended future. Things were just starting to get on track, school, baby plans, etc. My situation is completely up in the air; my previous life is completely up in the air. I’m all over the place emotionally. I’m so scared to loose my dad, yet I’m anxious to start a family, but that depends on proper funds and insurance, which depends on my job, which is on the back burner. Don’t misunderstand, I’m grateful for the time with my dad, but I’m also resentful for setting everything aside, and feeling guilty for that resentment.
I’m nervous for my future, and annoyed that some individuals assume that this is easy for me. Like all I do is relax and hang out with my dad.
I have absolutely no control over anything that’s happening in my life right now. Essentially, have no job, school is delayed, my baby making clock is ticking, and the career that I finally became comfortable with striving for is further away and seems unreachable from my vantage point. Selfish? Maybe so, but I can’t help my feelings. I am also angry with how irresponsible my family has been in regard to their future. I know it’s neither here or there right now but, maybe someone will read this and take it to heart…maybe I will listen and make changes in my life to avoid some of the pitfalls I am destined for if I continue the way I am. Better, more responsible choices are where the answers are. If they would have taken better care of themselves, as young adults, I may have been able to split my time between my home life and theirs. They didn’t, and as a result we have no choice but to struggle, scrape and worry, about how things are going to get paid both in my home and theirs. Like so many people they live day to day, some have no alternative, pay check to pay check is the only way to get by, others make decisions that offer instant gratification and choose not to look to the future. When we get an extra few dollars we buy something “nice for ourselves, because we deserve it”. We live for the here and now, not expecting the future to come. We decide to deal with issues as they arise instead of plan for them. It’s a lame excuse for laziness and fear. We think that by acknowledging something might go wrong in our lives we are in some way inviting it. Thinking its better, or safer not think about it, often refusing to even discuss the possibility.
Shit happens, people don’t ask for it. Just because you avoid the idea doesn’t mean the shit won’t hit you square in your face. How you deal with it and how well prepared you are for the unexpected is completely up to you. Getting through something like this is tough enough, adding uncertainty to every aspect of your life is the only thing that is avoidable and completely your choice. I’m going to talk to someone about a plan to save, prepare for my future. I’m not wealthy, I’m not even middle class, if I had to guess I’d say lower middle class, but moving up. I don’t have much to spare, but a little each week, health insurance and some kind of a plan are better then nothing. For reasons I won’t get into, my dad isn’t eligible for social security, welfare, disability, or any other type of government assistance, so don’t depend on our government to take care of you when you can no longer care for yourself. Depend on no one but yourself.
I am struggling but, I am also very lucky to be able to be here for my dad. I don’t regret anything, this is where I’m suppose to be, this IS my life, but those facts don’t shut off my head at night, when I’m missing my husband, my education, and the baby I dream of having moving around in my belly. Its all on hold for the moment.

4 to 6...Cancer #7

2006-09-19T23:26:00.000-07:00

This one is from the 10th of Sept.

Dad's home. His breathing is labored and he was swelling up last night. His face, neck, arms, well, everything was swollen. The tumor is putting pressure on blood vessels going from his heart to his brain and back. This causes bloating, among other things. His voice is raspy and he coughs so hard I'm surprised his diseased lung doesn't come flying out...wouldn't that be nice. This tumor is entangled in vocal cords, blood vessels, his esophagus, two main arteries, and the top of his right lung. He can't take 5 steps without needing something to hold on to and oxygen from a tank. This is one of the single most horrific things I have ever gone through to date. I can’t even imagine what he must be going through. My dad is, was, a very physically strong man. Biker tough guy, until HE ALLOWED smoking to take that away from him. I say these things, because if you smoke I’m going to ask you to quit. “Who are you?”, you might ask. I am a grown ass woman who is nothing but a broken child faced with her fathers premature death, that’s who I am. This is quite possibly a completely avoidable series of events. The risks are real, and it can happen to you. The doctor told me today that realistically my dad has 4 to 6 months to live. 15% of people in this situation survive 2 years. Without treatment he'd be gone already. When he told me that, I felt something die inside of me. Literally, something sank and wilted. I mean, I think I held my own, I took the information in stride, but inside I was loosing control. Inside I was screaming at him, calling him all kinds of asshole and quack, telling him to shut up and give me something I could cling to. Anything, a word, a phrase I could grasp onto that meant anything other then the end. Some hope, but he didn’t. I stood there numb, choking on my own optimism. I asked him to be frank with me, he said, “This will not end well.” I couldn’t hear anything else beyond that. I just thanked him and excused myself. I don’t remember walking out of his office. I found myself in the bathroom of the 2nd floor oncology wing, on the floor, holding my knees, staring. I was close to tears but, they wouldn’t come, nothing would. Fragments of words floated in and out of my mind so fast I couldn’t make anything of them. I couldn’t put a thought together to save my life. I was so positive, even with what he said I couldn’t wrap my head around the truth of it, the certainty in his voice. I kept searching for some glimmer of hope in his words, but I couldn’t find any. I wretched myself off of the floor and went to the vanity to make sure I was presentable before heading back out into the spot light. I found I had been crying, the reflection I saw showed a blotchy, wet, mess. At that moment I felt everything I thought I wasn’t feeling on the floor come crashing into me. The horror in the eyes looking back at me was alarming. It was like I was looking at a stranger. The weight of his words had finally hit me.
For the next two days I spend a lot of time alone. No matter what I was doing, no matter how involved I was, “4 to 6” popped into my mind unexpectedly and I burst into tears. And to add to this misery, I was the only one who knew. I had decided that, brother, step-mom, and dad should know, but how do I tell them. What if they don’t want to know? How can I bring it up? I can’t hold this in much longer, but in the same breath, I can’t get it out.

Do you think given this info 5 years ago he would have prevented this pain? Maybe. Will you?

Look, I know it's tough. Even the thought makes you light up. But take it from me, an ex-smoker, it's worth it. I feel better. I can drive a car without one. I don't have to 'make sure I have enough' before I do...everything. I won't lie, I do get an urge every once in a while but it passes without catastrophe. Before, I would panic or throw a fit, my emotions went crazy when I needed and didn't have a smoke. Now? It passes without notice. Please. For the people you love, if not for fear of going through this yourself, do whatever you need to do to quit.

catch up...Cancer #6

2006-09-19T00:06:00.000-07:00

So I haven’t been able to get on-line for awhile. I have been writing, it’s my sainity right now. This is from (aprox) Sept 2nd.

Dad’s been in the hospital for twelve days, now. It’s been pretty scary in many ways. Physically, I feel run down, yet oddly over stimulated. Emotionally I feel numb. The first week my emotions were running rampant, up down, up down. Now I feel ‘under’ emotional. It’s like the shock has worn into acceptance… except that I have absolutely no fear of him dying.( It felt a little creepy writing that just now) My heart isn’t sinking anymore. There is no alternative for him but to come home and resume life as usual. My mind refuses to even acknowledge there are other avenues for this thing to take. When someone throws out a ‘what if’ I shrug it off and change the subject, I can’t even talk seriously about it. I’m still just kinda floating, in a maze like dream but, it’s not as dark. I don’t know what to do with myself a lot of the time. He needs more rest now, as a result of the treatments, so we’ve been staying shorter and spreading our ‘shifts’ out more. I’ve really been enjoying my time with him, but I don’t feel it’s the beginning of the end. He has been talking about making some changes in his life. Living more then working, making time for the people he cares for. He also says some things that make me sad. He says this experience is showing him who people really are. When I asked him to explain, all he would say is that if it were (Deleted) in the hospital, he would never leave her side. I defended her by saying it wouldn’t be healthy for either one of them but, he said it’s just how it would be. He also said that before all of this began, he was pretty tired of his life. To the point that all he wanted to do was go to sleep. That’s all he looked forward to. He said, “I was just tired and feeling sorry for myself. Forever playing catch up with bills, and work, then coming home to a woman who acted like she didn’t like me half the time, was pretty depressing.” I really didn’t know what to say to that. I feel bad for them both, actually. Anyway that’s all I’ll say on that subject…for now. O-kay I have to say, I know she loves my dad. I can see it. I think he loves her more, but she does love him dearly. I just think she doesn’t know how to show warmth, she’s somewhat distant. It’s strange; she’ll be the first one to make you take vitamins so you don’t get sick but, if you get sick she probably won’t cover you up or tuck you in. Does that make any sense? She’d be miserable without him but I don’t think she knows it. I just hate to hear the sadness in his voice. He is truly a good, honest, loving person who deserves someone who makes him feel special, wanted, appreciated and who and enjoys him. I don’t think she does that enough. I think she is used to, and comfortable, with him. I don’t think she cherishes what she has. To be fair, he is my dad and I’m partial to him so I’m sure the blinders are in full force. All right enough about that. Here’s the reason I started writing this in the first place. Yesterday he was able to lie down! That is progress!! They were able to do the mold of his body which allows them to target the tumor more precisely. That means the tumor is shrinking and treatments have been working! Beautiful! He’s getting stronger, taking walks with me when I go up to see him. He’s a little wobbly but, not winded. Before just sitting up would take it out of him. They are still not sure when he’ll get to come home though. I was under the impression we were waiting to do these two tests but his doctor said it’s all really in how he’s doing as a whole. He’s improving but the still want to keep a close eye on him. He has his next chemo set for next week, Wednesday I think, so he’ll be there at least till then. I feel better knowing he's in good hands anyway. We'll see...

missing u...Cancer #5

2006-08-30T00:30:00.000-07:00

I miss Zeke. I miss his hands on mine. I miss being the outer spoon and I miss the spot in between his shoulder and his chest where I rest my head. I miss the place where his arm creases when he hugs me. His laugh, his smart ass remarks, and his stinky cigars, all of this I’d love to have right now. I miss putting my cold feet on him at night. I miss doing nothing with him. I miss Zeke and ReRe days. I miss us in our hammock, on our couch, at work, and in our bed. I miss his beautiful eyes. I miss his kisses. I miss him next to me. I miss waiting for him to get off of work. I miss him falling asleep three minutes into a movie. I miss his FACE and all of our silliness. I miss him. I don’t know how I’m going to do this.

No home sweet home..Cancer #4

2006-08-28T23:58:00.000-07:00

So I don’t think he’s coming home Tuesday, Which was the plan. He’s still unable to lay down flat. I haven’t been able to catch the doctor to ask him what he thinks of all this. I know they had hoped the radiation would have shrunk the tumor enough by now so that he could. Then they’d take the mold, do the PET scan and send him home. He said he still can’t breathe well enough. I want to know if this treatment is working or not! He’s not getting lightheaded anymore, which would indicate that it is working but…I donno, I keep analyzing everything. One minute I’m convinced it’s doing wonders, the next it’s not doing a thing. The tech said they are going to shoot for Thursday.

Today felt pretty stagnant. The air in his room was pretty gloomy and melancholy. I think the hospital is wearing on him. It’s been a week now. Everyone is excessively eager to make him feel comfortable, and content, which after a while would get on my nerves to. Family and friends are also fawning all over him. We’re all so worried about him feeling lonely or needing us that we have forgotten he needs his own space. I personally feel like I should be next to him at all times, I feel guilty when I’m not. I shouldn’t be laughing while all of this is going on. And besides all of that he’s not getting any rest, nurses, techs, doctors, cleaning people, food people, etc…knocking at least every two hours. Every time he closes his eyes, someone knocks. Every time he takes a bite of food, someone needs blood. He had a pretty crappy attitude today. Everything bothered him. He had something negative to say about just about everyone. He said they all treat him like a five year old. He said, “I know they are just doing their job, but if one more person covers me up, pats my hand or hovers over me, I’m gonna loose it." All he did today was complain. I stayed for a few hours then left him alone. I hope he’s better tomorrow. Well I’m REALLY tired, so I’m gonna get to sleep.

The now...Cancer saga #3

2006-08-26T12:20:00.000-07:00

O-kay so heres whats going on now. We found out a few days ago that the tumor is malignant. It was strange to hear, but oddly enough, I didn't feel as devastated as I thought I would. I think it was because the doctor didn't use the word. He launched right into the treatment needed as a result of the biopsy. He didn't drop a bomb and then pause dramatically like in the movies. I thought that was how these things went. I don't feel like this is real anyway. When he was finished giving his spheel, I had to ask in plain english. "Is this bad or can it be cured?" He said don't say "cure." He said that if it went untreated he'd have about 30 days. With treatment it depends completly on the person and how they react to it. So this is all up in the air. He said treatment is weighed on how he reacts in comparison to how much it helps. If the tumor isn't shrinking and he's sick, they will decide if it's worth continuing. Wow. I feel pretty detached from myself. My dad looks great, aside from the tubes and sexy hospital gown. His spirits are good, he's grumpy at night, silly during the day and trying to take care of business when he has a minute. The magnitude of this situation is hard to absorb. It comes in waves, though. For the most part this is all a mistake, Gods, or the doctors, I don't know which. But wrong non the less. I keep thinking, tomarrow it'll be gone. Other times, usually when I'm alone and not occupied, my insides hurt, my face gets hot and I feel dizzy. I can't control the thoughts that flood in. Life without him? This world without him in it? Unmanageable, unbearable and unreal. As for now, dealing with family that decide to pop back into our lives and everyone being on top of each other is more to take then the situation we're all here for. Or maybe that's what my mind is focusing on, to spare me from a truth that would rip my whole existence apart.

Update..Cancer sage #2

2006-08-23T17:25:00.000-07:00

Well I'm in Colorado. I left the following morning. It feels good to be by his side. And I mean literally by his side. Most of you know he has a prosthetic left arm, so I pulled a chair right up to the right side of his bed to hold his hand, and haven't left (but to sleep) since. I'm in everyone's way, and I don't care. I'll move for you to do what you need to do, but just know that I'll be back in this spot everything you come into this room. Anyway, It was an emotional reunion to say the least! My daddy, geeze I can't explain how I love him. And he needed me here as much as I needed to be here. We've always been close. Ever since I was a little girl I've idolized him and followed him like a devoted puppy. Eveyone who has ever been around us knows it. Some don't like it, some admire it. I am truly a daddies girl I really don't really have much to give right now, I just wanted to update this blog.
My dad wanted a little alone time, and while walking around aimlessly, I stumbled onto this internet cafe/waiting room so I thought I'd write a little.
He's been in the hospital since Friday. They found 4 tumors. One is about the size of a baseball, and is located behind his collar bone, this is the one they are most worried about. The others are near his arm pit, they've done a biopsy in that area and didn't find anything. Basically, they are fatty lumps. Which is good. The one behind his collar bone is still a big issue. It's obstructing his airway and two main arteries from his heart to his brain. His breathing is labored, his voice is gone and he's dizzy.His spirits are good though. Due to problems with his blood being to thin they haven't been able to do a biopsy on that one, until today. We'll get the results tomorrow. As for me, I'm putting on a strong face. Asking questions, getting water, food, etc... Consoling and calming step mom, trying to get brother to eat. Although he's for sure holding his own and then some. I'm a wreck inside. Tomorrow is the big day. I'm scared shitless mostly, but optimists seeps in and leaves a warm refreshing feeling. This waiting is horrible, and I feel so utterly alone. I miss my Zeke. I just need a hug, to have him here when I want to bitch or cry. My emotions are a little crazy. I called some lady a cu#* today...for crossing the street. My patience is short to say the least. So far most of my remarks die before they come out of my mouth. This all feels so sureal.

I'm not doing very well...Cancer sage #1

2006-08-21T14:30:00.000-07:00

My Dad has been having some health issues. I find this out two days ago. He’s been passing out, he’s weak, he sleeps about 20 hours, getting up only to eat, and his face has been bloating. A side affect of Advil, he thought, so he quit taking it. The bloating subsided for a few days then came back. My Dad has worked HARD all his life, it’s time he slows down but, he’s never been in bad shape, physically. Until recently.
I caught him at work for the 1st time in a week. He said he was waiting on a call from his doctor. They ran a few tests and he should hear from them with-in the hour. That was Friday. Today is Monday. I’ve been calling. I finally got my brother on the phone today, as they are taking my dad to the ER. This morning he had some tests done at his doctor, they found something, possibly a tumor, below his color bone. He was told to go to the ER right away for more tests. That all they know. He’ll call back when they find something out. What the fuck! I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. All the life knocked right out of me. I feel deflated and small.
He called me back about an hour ago. Could be cancer. They can’t see a correlation between the other symptoms and this lump, so that’s something else. He’s getting a cat scan and it’ll take about 2 hours…he’ll call me back. I asked how he was, emotionally. He said ‘Scared.” My heart is breaking. My Dad is 800 miles away. Scared! This is eating me up. I feel like I can’t breathe. I don’t know what to do or who to call, or if I want to talk to anyone…but him. I called Zeke. I didn’t say much. He said he wishes he could come home, “I do to” I told him. I’m scared. I worked out; it helped for about 45 minutes, until I broke down. I can’t sit; I can’t stop following this through to an awful end. I NEED to be there. GOD DAMN IT. I don’t want to do this. My body is tense and I can’t think straight. I’m not ready for this shit. I’m NOT READY!
I know…Don’t prepare for the worst, wait and see what they say. EASIER said then done. I’m trying to stay out of my head. I can see his eyes. I can feel his hand on mine. When has something that starts out like this EVER turned out fucking peachy? In my experience, I can’t think of any. And even if it does, it doesn’t help the here and now. What he must be going through right now. I keep picturing his face in my head, alone in that MRI, surrounded by blindingly white walls, cold stainless steel tables, and cruel insensitive lights . Scared. My daddy! I don’t know what to do. I wish I was there. My insides hurt, my head hurts, and my face is hot and wet. I miss my daddy. I can’t stop fucking whimpering. I’m a wreck. I find it extreamly hard to talk to people when I feel this way, it's like the words wont come out. So I write.

My brother just called. It's bad. It's cancer. I'm not ready. I talked to my dad for a minute. He doesn't want to leave us. My fucking heart hurts.

2006-08-01T20:55:00.000-07:00

I've decided, since I'm too lazy to actually write something, I'm going to post some pictures. One of my favorite past times is driving aimlessly around St. Louis taking pictures. Or (lately) finding a place that captures my interest and walking around doing the same.

2006-08-01T20:52:00.000-07:00

Divergent...

2006-08-01T20:45:00.000-07:00

What really is faith?

2006-08-01T20:39:00.000-07:00

drifting

STL, I'm so proud

2006-07-08T21:15:00.000-07:00

So there’s this place right off the highway(I-170 & Page) that’s intrigued me for a couple of years now. The first description that comes to mind, is that it’s a bright spot in an otherwise desolate looking area. The sheer size of the building is intimidating, with its ‘screened’ sides and mammoth propeller type apparatus twirling in the wind outside. It’s mesmerizing. Of course, I’ve always been intrigued with architecture, both old and new, so some people may not have noticed the place…but I don’t see how that’s possible. From my car, flying by at least twice a day I watched them build it. The pieces coming together little by little. The first thing you see is the propeller. It loosely resembles a white daisy sitting atop a strong white stem, like something out of a Science fiction movie. It peeks up long before you actually see the actual size of the thing. It spins above all else in the area, demanding respect. It peers out over the highway almost as if it’s the protector of the more delicates looking, cream and silver, two story building that is what you see next as you motor ahead. Out of all the red brick and beautiful dinginess that is St. Louis, this building stands out. The grounds are perfectly manicured and a striking contrast to the stark whiteness of the ‘fortress’. It wouldn’t surprise me to see men and women strolling around in crisp, white linen jumpsuits, blindingly white patent leather shoes, and alabaster Ralf Lauren sunglasses, sporting an expression that exudes justified superiority. The place looks important, crisp and mysterious. It makes me want to be part of it, work there, pull weeds from the sidewalk…anything just to be able to say I’m a part of.

Finally, the name went up, “Alberici”…means absolutely nothing to me. So the mystery went on for a few more months. I decided to do a little research and I find out that it’s a construction company. This amazing building is almost completely environmentally friendly! Apparently, it’s on the cutting edge of what is called the ‘green’ building movement. This structure is one of the top environmentally friendly places in the US. It was erected using as much recycled material as possible. The wind mill (or big honk’n daisy as I fondly refer to it) is the source of most of the energy used to run the 110, 00 square foot building. There’s a ‘yard’ on top of the building that act’s as insulation, keeping it cool in the summer and warm in the winter. It incorporates a rainwater recovery system that reuses a large portion of the natural water instead of sending it to the storm sewer. It utilizes so many energy saving features, that it’s won awards! That’s not all though! Not only is the building itself super environmentally friendly, but the grounds are as well! There are 2 ponds, landscaping using native brush, trees and foliage, creating a habitat for local wildlife, and a few walkways for employees to enjoy. There’s even a cafeteria that serves only healthy food and a dining area outside! It’s refreshing to know that St. Louis is paying attention to the environment and that we are leading the way to healthier living! It makes me so proud!

Dead and happy about it

2006-06-04T09:27:00.000-07:00

Ya know, in my last post I made light of my situation with my step mom. I wrote about some pretty trivial shit. I had it in the back of my mind that my dad might read it and that I needed to keep it 'clean.' I'm still going to keep it clean, but I want to say that she was emotionally abusive to both me and my dad. She was vulgar, pushy, crass, and abrasive. My dad would make excuses for her, saying she doesn't know any better, and she very well may not. She is honest, I'll give her that. If you ask her if she thinks your fat in 'this outfit', and you are, she will tell you so. She won't sugar coat it. It's almost like she revels in brutal honesty, turning the knife when the stick hurt well enough. I believe that people can be honest without drawing blood... She often used her well known brutal honesty to deny things she said, did, or situations she manipulated in regard to me. The things she's done, I could never prove, there was nothing physical, and either she was truly oblivious or she lied, when I would call her out on something. She's never come up to me and quietly laughed about how she'd 'won' so I really don't know. In regard to my dad, when she and I were getting along, she would bash him; tell me things he’d done to her….they may have been true. Their relationship was a rocky one, back in the day, but there was no need to tell me some of these things. I’m talking ten, eleven years old here! Later, and older I’d ask my dad without ratting her out, and usually she had it distorted, he admitted to things and I believed him over her. It was like she wanted me on her side…which leads me to believe she did the same with me as the subject.

She's just always been mean spirited whether her wrath was directed at me or directed at someone else. It's strange though, how her persona is veiled from most people.

Anyway, I'm going to leave it alone. I'm not going to get into the details; it really doesn't matter at this point. I can say that in spite of everything I do love her.

We're back from Co and things went well. She did little things that I expected, like the day we arrived she went shopping with one of her friends, before this would have hurt me. This is also one of the friends mentioned in the last post, and it seems her feelings haven't changed toward me. The friend barely said hello, but seemed thrilled to see Zeke...as did step mom. Step mom was extremely nice to Zeke for the most part. She did take many opportunities to poke fun at my expense. I'm happy to say that it didn't affect me, like it would have in the past. I just did my own thing. I hung out with my dad and brother. I didn't avoid her, hoping she would realize I was upset with her...I truly didn't want to take it any further. We spent a few days in the mountains and it was a blast! As far as she goes, I love her and I'm excited to be done with our old pattern. I'm o-kay with having a 'distant/close' relationship with her. Now, when the time comes that she wants to 'talk' I just have to remember this..and let her say what she wants and not elaborate on it. Not tell her what she did this time, just let it be. That will be a test on my part. I'll post some pictures and talk about the actual TRIP another day...soon. Thanks for ‘listening’ to my boring saga of the dead Mommy dearest! And no she didn’t mention the term…which I find funny. Seriously, it was said EVERY time we wrote, talked to each other, or to someone about the other…it was a term we both used a lot…until now. DEAD I SAY!!

Mommy Dearest is DEAD

2006-05-27T15:59:00.000-07:00

Man has it been awhile…Haven’t had much to say I suppose. I’ve got something on my mind and nobody in particular to dump on so..here ya go. I’m on my way to Colorado tomorrow morning. My dad, step mom, and lil’ brother live there. Throughout my growing up I didn’t live with my dad. I got to see him every summer for a few months and more often when he lived closer to me. My dad and I have a fantastic relationship, pretty much always have. Now, my step mom is a different story. We’ve always had a very strange relationship. Up and down, good and bad, snotty and extremely close. I have no idea when it started. She’s always been in my life; my parent’s divorced when I was a baby, so I didn’t know any different. I don’t remember our relationship being any other way. It’s just the way it was…I was always taking baby steps with her. I never knew what her attitude would be towards me. Whether she was going to be bitchy, loving or reign sneaky insults down on me. As a girl, I cried a lot. I hated her at times. She is very sly about it to. She will say things as a ‘joke’ about how big my ass is. To a 13 year old that is devastating. At other times we were like bubbly little girlfriends, giggling and laughing. Then out of nowhere, she would make up crap and tell my dad, in hopes of pissing him off. She’s told my friends; I was no good and would eventually hurt them. Luckily, after a time I caught on and warned them, saving myself that chaos. Needless to say, when I went to visit, I tried to spend ALL of my time with my dad. Every few years or so we would have a long talk, usually after a fight and my dad telling me how much she loves me and basically asking me to work it out. One particular time she told me that her and her girlfriends would talk about how lazy I was cause I didn’t help out in the kitchen after dinner. I sat with my dad in the living room instead. This information sticks out to me because I had no idea I was the topic of their conversation. After that I’d notice a few condescending glances from the ‘girlfriends.’ Anyway, we would have a long talk, I’d give it a shot, make an effort, help out in the kitchen, and eventually she would shit on me. This cycle has gone on for years. I keep putting myself in a position to get hurt, over and over again. I don’t know how it happens because at first I am very cautious with her. I’m guarded…but somewhere along the line, I let the guard down and I really start to feel we have a bond. And she does something either, just plain mean or so insensitive I wonder who it is I’ve been talking to. She would me believe she truly loved me and enjoyed me. As you’ve probably gathered this spiral has began again recently. The first in a long time. We took drinking out of our arguments years ago and they’ve become less frequent, actually non-existent. Our last talk was especially deep going back to my childhood and some issues we both have had. Things that may have been at the core of our troubles. We vowed to talk things out and ask questions instead of assume anything. Well, the baby steps lead way to a fairly open slate on my part. I would call her because I genuinely wanted to talk to her not out of obligation. After years of strife we fondly began to refer to her as mommy dearest. She hates ‘step mom’ and I won’t call her mom, so in our strange little world this was progress. This was poking fun at our topsy tervy relationship, and has become a term of endearment between the two of us. Well the most recent issue is this, and I won’t elaborate on it to much. It’s in stages. When I was trying on wedding dresses, all the important women in my life had gone with me at one time or the other so I told her this experience would be complete it she could go. She got so excited, she told her boss she needed a few days because her daughter was getting married and she wanted to go dress shopping. So we made tentative plans, she was supposed to call me. I called her the day she was suppose to arrive and my dad said her plane should have already landed. She didn’t even tell. She decided to have her nephew who lives 3 hours away pick her up. I live 5 minutes. Fine. She called me the next evening. I asked her why she didn’t call, she said she planned on spending the last half with me and ‘lets set a time to meet’. So we did, but she kept canceling. She ended up staying with me LESS then a day. This is after I started crying and telling her how disappointed I was she kept postponing. I told her I promised to speak my mind and this is how I feel. I thought she WANTED to go with me, hang out, be a part of.
So, let that go. Fast forward to wedding trip. She didn’t have the right documentation to board the plane so she didn’t get to go. We cried about it. I missed her there. Fast forward to the in-town reception. Her nephew was having his reception the weekend before mine; she couldn’t get off work for that amount of time so regretfully she would miss mine. I completely understand. She was so upset that she wasn’t going to be there. Well, my dad and brother drove down for the occasion. I mentioned how she must be really bummed that she had to work…I was told she took the week off and went to Wyoming. Just to hang out, have fun. I can’t explain how hurt I was. She CHOSE not to come. She made a decision not to spend this time with her ‘daughter.’ She hasn’t even asked me how things went, let alone acknowledge any wrong doing. She hasn’t called, which if everything was ‘normal’ would be the case. I was shocked and so mad at myself for letting this happen again! How in the world can I be so gullible? Am I miss reading her? Whatever! I am just trying to just let this be. I don’t want to have a heart to heart with her…I’m tired of it. She’s my dad’s wife, and my brother’s mom so I have to have some kind of relationship with her…but what! I don’t like her; I never really have without putting forth a lot of effort. I don’t want to act like I do, but I don’t want to be a bitch either. I am resentful that she ‘played’ me or whatever you call it. I am hurt that she obviously doesn’t think of me as a daughter…how could she miss it when there was really no effort on her part? All she had to do was climb in the fucking car! I don’t want to be hurt! I don’t want to give a shit! I also want to slap the bitch right off her face! Mostly, I want to not care, to be fine with whatever. While on this trip, if she asks me to go somewhere, I want to be honest. Not say no because I’m being a bitch, to go if I want or not to. She’s going to be especially attentive to me, acting like everything is great. (This is usually where I say something to her and we talk or fight cause I can’t pretend everything is peachy!)Oh and yes, she will be sweet, the nice will be out and kick’n!! She knows my husband has heard my side, she’ll want him to think I’m crazy.”She’s so sweet, how can you be upset”. OHH she’s the devil! Anyway Thanks for letting me vent. Mommy Dearest is forever dead to me! But who is taking her place? I just don’t know how to act. I don’t know how to change this cycle.

Says it all...

2006-03-12T13:51:00.000-08:00

I found this many years ago, discarded in an ally. It's yellowed with time and set in a frame that has seen better days. It's gone with me through every move and been displayed everywhere I've lived. Sometimes, for no reason, I'll pass it and feel compelled to read it. Usually, I realize after reading it that I needed to hear it.

A treasure to me...

Desiderata

Go Placidly amid the noise and haste, and Remember What Peace There May Be In Silence. As Far As Possible Without surrender be on good terms with all persons. Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they to have their story. Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism. Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass. Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul. With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.

Author, unknown.

This moves me everytime I read it. Wow. Simply said, yet so full of wisdom and perspective.

At the bottom it says, " Found in OLd Saint Paul's Church Baltimore Dated 1692"

I'm a pack rat.

2006-02-25T13:51:00.000-08:00

I am a pack rat. There I said it. I'm not ready to admit that to my husband. He points it out to me and I justify everything I have shoved, stacked, piled and 'filed'. First, let me make it clear that I do not have magazines or newspapers neatly stacked in ANY room of my house! I am not THAT kind of pack rat! I like to shove them into drawers...ha, not really. I keep SOME b-day cards, letters, pictures, things that mean something and things I write. I like to write, so sometimes I jot down thoughts where ever the mood hits. That sometimes means writing on a napkin or a receipt... so they get shoved into a drawer until I dig through, read them again, and decide if they are worth 'saving'. For what I don't know. Today I found one that I though was worth keeping. I don't remember the circumstances that I wrote it, but it did provoke some feelings I'm glad are gone. I thought I'd post it. I do not conceder myself a writer so take that into consideration!

I love you, but not the way you think. I love the way you fill the hole inside of me, the way I'd feel without you. I clench my teeth and smile the perfect smile for you. I sneer behind tinted frames, for keeping it deep. I express myself with hiding to make you grin. The love I feel you can't understand.

In a hole I dig deep. I want to hide and never see the truth behind. The masks of color I paint are fragile and weak. My mind is a dark place to be. It slithers out of the corner of my eye enough to frighten, then disappears. Lost are the shadows that could close the darkness. Stepping down I can feel you there, all around, waving slowly at my ankles. Sometimes touching my soul with your rancid fingertips. I exhale the color of smog, the taste of decay. The beautiful longing for nothing. Take me, I give up; do with me what you will. Make it sorrowful. Make it quick. What do I care, I'm not here for long. I just have to inhale, that’s it.

Two worlds

2006-02-21T21:19:00.000-08:00

Some days go along so well. Everything goes smoothly, things fall into place at just the right moment. Going through the day, there’s no rushing or waiting, just smooth sailing. Tasks go off without a hitch, the sun is shining, and you think, all is right with the world. For some reason, when I have a day like this I forget that somewhere somebody’s life is just the opposite.

Yesterday, that somebody was my neighbor. My husband and I have gotten fairly close to them since moving in three years ago. Willie and Margaret were married less then a month ago and we were the only non-family members invited. It was an honor. The ceremony was small and held in their living room. The minister was from Georgia and had to be the most southern man I have ever met! The story of how this wedding came to be is a touching one. I don’t know all the details, but what I do know is that this wedding was a long time coming. As a mixed race teenage couple, they were torn apart by ignorant, callous people. Many years later they met again for a chance at what should have been. They both had loved, married, and lost others, but never forgot each other. One day, Margaret heard the soulful cry of a blues guitar on the radio knew it was her long lost love, Willie. She took a chance, called the station, and sure enough it was him. The rest is history.

Last night, as I was having my near perfect day, I noticed an ambulance out front. The paramedics were across the street at Willie and Margaret’s house. My heart sank. I wanted to run over, but didn’t want to get in the way. I waited at my door for what seemed like forever! Then two paramedics emerged helping Willie walk to his car!! Margaret was close behind with her keys. I ran over, confused and asked if I help. She explained that Will had a stroke and the ambulance wouldn’t take him to Christian NE where his doctor was. She had to drive him. I asked if I could drive her and she was more worried about how I would get back home from the hospital! That concern waved away she asked if I could just ride with them, make some calls and park the car after we arrived to the EMG. So I did. Willie looked so frail. I asked him how he was holding up, he said his vision was blurry and he felt weak. His smile gone, Willie was a shadow of himself. He tried to talk, but began to mumble. I watched him as he passed out, straining the seatbelt that held him. I thought holy shit what do I do?? I know CPR…sorta, it’s been awhile! Slumped over in his seat Willie rocked and swayed all the way there, all I could do was place one hand on his shoulder and one on hers; man was that a long ride. Once at the hospital he was awake again but unable to walk. I took the car and left them at the EMG room entrance. Forty five minutes later I was on my way home, in a cab, smelling the most awful cologne ever. Once home, I walked around aimlessly, discombobulated. I felt completely out of sorts. Then all of a sudden, out of the blue I started to cry. How fragile life is! How unfair! How one person’s perfect day could be another’s absolute horror. How neither will know the other extreme exist unless they collide. To be completely oblivious… I don’t have the words to explain how lost I felt. I went to bed contemplating life and wondering how Willie was.

Today, Margaret called, Willie is home. The doctors prescribed a baby aspirin a day…crazy. She told me that last month he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and is going through chemo. As happy as I am that he is home and okay I can’t help but prepare for more of this to come. Willie’s a strong cat though, I know I’ll see his smiling face belt out more blues before he’s done with this world!!

Here is Willie’s web site! Check it out, his music is fabulous.

Many of the songs are about his re-discovered true love. http://www.blueladyenterprises.com/

The Luncheon

2006-02-12T10:11:00.000-08:00

I just went to a luncheon with the girls. Sounds very old lady-like doesn't it? "Yes darhling, we're to take our tea in the parhlor after the luncheon."
Well, it was a lot of fun. These women are my (fairly new found) family, complete with sisters and mother hen. I'm really enjoying getting to know them. I sometimes find it almost painful to 'get to know' someone. I feel like people judge me, so I literally 'act' like someone I think they will like until I'm comfortable or they show a side of their personality I can't deal with, then I don't care so much. That is except in rare cases where I feel comfortable right off the bat. For the first time I felt that way around ALL of these women. It was such a relief. I really felt 'part of'. I have to admit I'm a little intimidated by them. Not because I think they're better then me, but because I admire them.
All of these women have such beautiful personalities, I wonder where I fit. They are very rounded but have at least one trait that stands above and proudly announces itself to the world. I wouldn't say it defines them but it does give you a peek into the inner workings! These women that I admire are... The strong, poised, and insightful mother hen, the passionate live-wire, the gentle expressive protector, the whimsical brat (meant in the fun brat way) and the quiet modern day advocate. They say you are defined by who you associate with, well if that's true I'm a strong, passionate, whimsically wonderful chic who is so fucking cool I can't stand myself.

Pop

2006-02-09T20:11:00.000-08:00

I've been missing my Dad more than usual lately. I thought I'd post a pic.
His laugh is infectious, his eyes sparkle like no other, and his hugs are one of my favorite places to be, EVER! He always has something inspiring, encouraging, or uplifting to say to me and somehow those words make everything 'right' in the world. When he says "I love you, Kee" I feel it down to my core, absolutely, unconditionaly, without a doubt, he adores me....his sweet pea...The feeling is mutual, Daa.

Two peas in a pod!!!

DELL HELL

2006-02-09T19:25:00.000-08:00

I wrote this letter for a customer service survey Dell sent me to fill out. When I went to submit it the site said "No longer taking comments." So I thought I'd post it for anyone who happens to stumble across this blog...

It's pretty long, so settle in for a bit...

To whom it may concern,

I am very excited about this opportunity to give you a customer satisfaction survey, as it seemed nobody cared at the time of the issue. I hope you’re next, less than lucky customer, will not have to go through what I did. It began on the nineteenth of January. My husband surprised me with a beautiful laptop computer he ordered from Dell. He told me it took a lot of research and time to put together the perfect computer for me. I couldn’t believe it!

So, we settled down to set it up. We went through all the normal set up modes except the internet; he hadn’t gotten the remote access modem yet, so that would have to wait. The computer was pretty slow right off the bat, but we thought maybe laptops were just slower then full size computers. He said, from his research, that he had purchased a pretty good processor and was under the impression that it would move faster than it was. We decided to talk to a friend the next day about it. We also noticed the cursor kept flickering, like the computer was running a program, or ‘thinking’ yet there wasn’t a reason for it. It was late, so we left it for the next day.

I was at work when he called to tell me the computer was completely locked up. He tried everything short of turning it off via the power button. He closed it up and left it for me to look at when I got off work. It was still frozen when I came home, the screen said, “Shutting down windows”.

My husband spoke to a friend of his, who’s familiar with computers. He said this pc should not be slow at all, and I should contact Dell.

I’ve had a similar problem in the past, with a modem that acted up shortly after I purchased it. I called the necessary help center many times, and they always walked me through steps to eradicate the problem. It continued to have issues until I purchased a new one. I decided not to chance that with such an expensive item as this. In less then 24 hours I needed to call a support line, I thought it best to exchange it.

On The twentieth of January, (2006) at approximately two p.m. I called 1-800-624-9897 to exchange my computer. I chose the option for returns. The recording said I would probably be on hold for more then ten minutes. So, I put my earpiece in and started on some homework.

After an hour on hold, I decided to use my other phone to call and see if another avenue would get me a person to speak with. I tried tech support and got a person fairly quickly. I think his name was Steve, although I could not understand much through his thick accent. After much confusion about purchaser’s name, he decided to call me Zeke, my husband who actually purchased the pc. I was fine with it. It made it easier with the language barrier. I tried to explain my problem and that I wanted to return it for a new one. I told him I’ve been on hold for quiet a while with returns and wondered it he could expedite the process. He explained that tech support would help me fix the problem. I told him I would rather just exchange it. He put me on hold for returns. I hung up that line and continued to hold the original line.

After another hour, the phone clicked, I got excited until it went dead. I was disconnected. I thought, “Well things happen.” Maybe, I should go through tech support and let them try before I exchange it. My experience continued to worsen from there. I was tossed around from this ‘type’ of tech support to that one. I spoke to a Scott, and a Sheldon, who I could barley understand. It is very frustrating talking computers for someone who is unfamiliar with them and then to top that off with someone who can not speak fluent English just adds to the stress. I had just spent almost two thousand dollars with this company and I am now spending the better part of a Saturday night on the phone getting nowhere with them. I received, absolutely no respect or consideration from the people who were working customer service. They are trained; it seems, to go through no uncertain steps with every customer who calls, no matter the circumstances. No personalized service what so ever. I was just a number on their call list. Every person I spoke to took my name, my husbands actually, my phone number, incase we got disconnected and my e-mail address. I was disconnected several times and NEVER received called back. An agent would attempt to transfer me and loose me, I’d wait a few minutes for a call back to no avail.

Finally, an agent told me the support I needed came from Dell on Call, a service that would cost. Lucky for me I had purchased a package for this type of service call. I was floored! Less then 24 hours and I would be expected to PAY for help had I not included it in my initial purchase.

The agent said he would transfer me, which from here on out will actually mean to be hung up on, lost, or disconnected. I called the number directly after again not receiving a call back…as discussed would be the case. I am very unhappy at this point and every agent that picks up the phone I inform them of my situation. I have remained collected throughout this horror, I am not one to scream at operators, as I know it is not them personally I am frustrated with. I will however let them know how I have been treated, that my patience are thin, and I appreciate not being put on hold or ‘transferred’ anymore without their careful assistance.

A Dell on Call agent by the name of Chris answered the phone. I told him of my hours on the phone with Dell and begged him not to shuffle me. I have to say he was a blessing. He spoke to me with genuine concern; his abilities in the customer service area should be commended. I was in tears up until this conversation. He went though and explained everything he asked me to do to the computer. He only put me on hold to consult another agent as to further tests to run on my pc. He was polite, courteous, respectful and very informed in regards to his job. His manner of speaking was clear and easy to understand. His phone etiquette was stellar. Unfortunately, he was a rare find in my endeavor with Dell as a whole.

Chris explained that I would have to be transferred, once again, to the original call center. He explained that the problem was not something he could find, let alone fix. He could not see a reason for the issues I was experiencing. I would have to be transferred to someone that deals with hard drive troubles. He said the cursor flickering is most likely a manufacturing problem and would have to be tested by another department. He advised that the pc may need to be sent back. So, he transferred me. I waited on hold for fourty five minutes and decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I would have to call back another day.

I called again on the twenty third of January. I was not on hold long before a representative picked up. I gave him all the information again and he pulled up the file. I explained what was going on and that I would really like to just return the computer. He began to recite the return/exchange policy in a very annoyed tone, and that I would be required to pay shipping/re-stocking etc…I interrupted him to explain that I’ve only had the pc for a few days. He very rudely snapped back that it did not matter, this was their policy and if I would just listen he could move on. If it was a software problem I would have to contact someone else, like Microsoft. I told him about my experience on the twentieth and apologized if I sounded frustrated, but honestly I just wanted the computer out of my house, at this point. He bluntly explained the cost I would incur. Again, I am shocked at how your customers are treated.

He said he needed to run a few tests and look over my file to determine the next step. After doing so he advised that the pc could be returned to Dell and that they would take full responsibility, due to a remark made by a previous representative. Finally, I’m getting somewhere. He asked if I wanted to exchange it and I almost laughed. When he realized I was returning it for a full refund, any respect or courteous manner that he was trying to muster disappeared from his voice. His disdain was clear. I told him I wanted to buy from a local dealer. He made it sound like a huge hassle. He tried to convince me that it was better to exchange it, due to the amount of time it could take to get the credit back. He also made a point of telling me that the “local dealer is just going to order it from us anyway.” I was afraid to tell him I didn’t plan on ever owning another Dell product. Afraid he would recant and say that he had misread the file and that I would have to pay after all.

I am very unhappy with Dell and I’m not shy about spreading the word. Not only was your product defective and you policies designed to make it difficult for the customer who spends their hard earned dollar, but your customer service was horrific. As an American I demand the respect that I have been raised to give others. Companies that outsource should train their employees in a standard that the customers they will deal with are used to. I regret ever having to deal with your company and I am determined to save friends, family and the clients that patronize my place of business the pain. I have since purchased a Sony laptop that I am very happy with and have already influenced a number of people to do the same.

Fractions hurt

2006-02-06T21:49:00.000-08:00

O-kay, so the last blog I attempted to post was cut off prematurely. I decided to write what was on my mind..mainly...School and how freaked I am at times. Then, sooner than expected, my favorite person walked in the door, A.K.A. my hubby (fondly referred to as Sneek) . I 'pinched it off' ..so to speak. Not a lot of quality time with Sneak lately.
This will be short to..It's late and I have a head full of "4/3x-1/2(x=1)=1" and "On a windy day..16mi..blah blah 48 min..blah..what was the speed of the blah...if the current was 15 fucking blah." I have an exam on Wed. This is SO not my best subject. I have been literally living this crap for the past week or so. Really, last night, I peed a fraction..true story.

2006-01-18T19:33:00.000-08:00

So I'm back to school. So much has happened since I last wrote. I'm not very good at keeping 'you' informed. As if there were actually somebody reading this.
Anyway, I've always kept a journal of some sort. I'd write spuratically, usually when things were shitty. Bright sunny things pass by un noticed, it's the crap that needs to escape. I'll try to do better, why, I don't know, misery is so much more intrestingand. Anyway, thats all for now.

Dum Dum Da Dum...through an addicts eyes

2005-07-28T20:28:00.000-07:00

Well I'm getting married. I'm floored by this realization.
Do you remember the angry girl in school who beat the boys up? Smoked pot behind the gym? Cussed the teacher out? Cut class to drink down by the tracks? That was me.
I am not proud.
I became a drug addict at ...well an active addict at around age 16. Started practicing at 12. I can remember saying to friends "I want to try every drug there is, they feel beautiful". I realized I felt uneasy without them. They were my only true friend. I felt out of place everywhere I went, whoever I was with. It was only while high I felt comfortable. I didn't like anyone, especially myself. I never let go of the tower of steel I had created to protect myself from everyone. I was always in search of that one soul who could see me, through all the bullshit. I wanted to connect with someone so badly. I needed a friend, anything, and just when I thought I had found someone I'd mess it up, inside I knew it was just wishfull thinking. Friends, boyfriends, family...all the same.
When I met the man I'm about to marry, I had resigned to be alone. I was o.k. with it, looking forward to it (so I told myself) I did not want to care about anyone. I wanted to do dope. He did dope, so I hung around. For years we slowly killed ourselves. One day, without getting into detail (maybe I will another day) I woke up and realized that we were garbage. I was afraid of my own reflection, I hated looking into my eyes. I would cross the street if I seen me coming, and I honestly didn't care.
We decided to get clean....at first it was not so much our decision ..but again, another day. I was SCARED to death. For at least a year I tried to figure out who the girl in the mirror was. Now, some days are still rough. I still sometimes want to get high, to escape. I refrain to maintain the quality of life I have now. The fabulous guy who scratched the surface of my soul I now allow in to cuddle whenever he has the notion. I'm at home and comfortable when he is near. He is who I had been looking for. That, my friend is a miracle, well that and the fact that I am alive, cause seriously I didn't want to be in this world. Now I own this world (well mine anyway) and I decorate it with pretty pretty princess ribbons. I am getting married and I am not scared anymore.

Just a thought

2005-06-21T13:10:00.000-07:00

In the mail today I received a magazine sealed in plastic. I placed it on the table as I set about my 'just got home' duties. I have to admit I was a little excited. See, I love catalogues! I love to flip through them, make fun of the clothes and imagine myself in some of the more trendy ones, toss around decor ideas etc... Well you can imagine my disappointment when I snagged that baby up and tore into it only to reveal a 'Master Hunting Catalog'. Now did I mention how big this thing is? Almost Sears caliper. This thing is serious. So ,out of pure curiosity I opened it, fully prepared to be disgusted by the so called hunting tactics of today's MANLY MAN. I use the word hunting so loosely it can barely stick to this blog. I mean really , if I want to HUNT I'm not going to rub myself with pee, dress like a tree and SIT in a treehouse till my prey 'just happens by'..But I'm not a MAN so what do I know. Anyway, back on track..They have some of the most awful contraptions in this book! For example did you know you can gut a deer right in the back of your pick up truck? Yap, got a machine that'll hoist the sucker up by it's puny little legs. Or a thing called a blind, it looks like a bomb shelter exposed and on stilts! They have 'leaf outfits' and the totally different 'tree outfit'. .... Some actually have fake leaves hanging off, so you REALLY look like a bush. Anyway, just thought I'd share. Oh they did have one thing that convinced me you can truly LIVE out doors in luxury...It's called the 'Pup'...A portable utility pop-up tent and along with the 'Pett' ....A portable toilet , you have a room to poop in! You don't have to wipe with leaves (or you could) or if your tired, fear falling on the ground naked!! Good Times!!!

I've got to learn to cook

2005-06-12T22:36:00.000-07:00

I decided on Chinese food tonight. I'm not a big fan lately, but I wanted fast. I was determined to try something new though. I stood there looking at the scrumptious photos of favorites plastered on the wall of a surprisingly bright restaurant and I realized there is nothing new. It's the same safe American/Chinese food that is served in all establishments of it's kind. Yea, the taste may vary but, no new choices. Just like hamburgers, Burger King is just McDonald's, only flame broiled. Growing up some of my best friends were of Asian descent, their parents delighted my taste buds with wonderful authentic dishes. The same goes for Italian. My Grandpa was born in Sicily. I can remember him spending all day preparing a feast of genuine home made spaghetti. After adding pork, chicken and hard boiled eggs (Yes sir!) to his sauce he would let it simmer all day. Here's the best part...wait for it...a few minutes before serving he would crack a couple of eggs into the hot sauce to poach. And I'm here to tell ya it was DAMN GOOD! Don't knock it till you try it!! You won't find that at Fazoli's! Who am I to complain though, I got what I wanted ..It was fast. That's the price you pay!!!

Stranger things

2005-06-10T10:59:00.000-07:00

I was so tired when I closed my eyes last night, but sleep eluded me. I felt uneasy. My mind raced with thoughts of the days endeavored and tomorrow's tasks. Things I've put off, letters I need to write, people I need to call, my basement project left unfinished. I was getting frustrated. My fiancee would shift in his sound slumber and I would resent him and blame him for my unrest. Flipping, turning, huffing and stretching, I finally relaxed and found comfort. You know that floating moment right before sleep? You never remember it in the morning but while you lay there you know. You're still strangely aware of your surroundings but detached thoughts start to take over. Maybe it's the beginning of a dream or perhaps the days thoughts unraveling. Whatever this place is, its unique and this is where I was when I heard it. It wasn't something you would consider loud, but in relation to the stillness of my room it pierced the darkness. A hollow sound scratched something then it fell to the floor. It was a small sound but never the less menacing. I was suddenly ripped from whatever remote realm my mind had settled on. It was like being ripped through a dark channel only to find blackness when I opened my eyes. Wide awake and gripping the sheet, I wondered if it were part of the scope my mind was in or if it were really a sound. I lay very still, hands sweating now. The pounding of my heart interfering with my ability to listen. The quick sounds happen fast. I can't describe it any better than to say it was sneaky and seemed to stop when it knew I was waiting. Then it came again. My muscles tensed and my head came slightly off the pillow, afraid to move to much. I haven't felt like this since childhood. My fiance slept on, I thought about waking him. I couldn't put my finger on anything and I didn't want to over react. I decided to turn on my bedside lamp but, I hesitated. I remember the 'monster under the bed' feeling. For a moment I was paralyzed. I felt the anticipation of the creature down there biding it's time. It's waiting for an arm or leg to slip off the side; peering up, ready to act, sneering, quietly snarling. I felt it deep in my spine. I shivered and dived for the light, snatching my arm back with childlike fervor. My right hand comforted my left as if to say "You made it!". I sat up and noticed the night was still, no crickets, no sounds, nothing. The air seemed dead, warm. I reminded myself that I am a grown ass woman and I have to get up and ease my mind! I studied every nook of my room waiting to hear the sound again. Hoping to catch it. I look over the side of the bed, trying to look under, just a few dust bunnies. I'm sure I could take them if I have to. The ceiling corner, under the dresser, all clear. I don't know how long I sat there before mustering up the courage to put my feet on the floor, and yes I moved away as soon as they hit. Roaming though my house I start to feel safe, but still knotted up a little. I continue to hold my hands under my chin, my shoulders cinched up, if I could bring my legs up and still get around, trust that would be the case! I'm just being silly ,I told myself. I haven't heard anything more; the kitchen is clear as well as the dining room and living room. I begin to relax as I walk back to my bedroom. I'm proud that I took care of this myself. No need for my big strong man!! I don't need protecting! I am woman, I am independent, I shake my fist at weakness! My arms and shoulders drop and my chest fills with pride as I take one last look out through my bedroom door into the rest of my castle! I smile and hold my head up as I look down at my fiance sleeping. My heart skips a beat then explodes in my chest, I step back, one hand goes for its spot under my chin and the other grabs the door frame. I let a whimper escape. He is staring at me. Eyes wide and glazed over, glaring as if with purpose. It's as if he's looking INTO me, not at me at all. I felt another presence; it didn't seem like him at all. The room turned a shade of red and I couldn't break the gaze. Then it was over, just that quick. The room went back to normal, crickets chirped, I heard a car drive down the street and the AC clamored to life. My heart was still trying to get out. I didn't know what else to do but to jump into bed. As quickly as I could I shoved earplugs in my ears to block out the world. I lay in a fetal position holding my pillow. I wasn't' afraid of my fiance but of what looked at me through his eyes. I remained close the the edge of the bed...Careful not to extent off the side. No one knows the moment they fall asleep. I do know I went back to that place between sleep and wakefulness but, I don't remember it today. I do feel uneasy, like something is happening and right around the corner is an answer to a question I haven't asked yet.

It's about time

2005-06-02T22:38:00.000-07:00

It has taken me 2 hours to complete this blog. Not because I'm stupid, or slow for that matter. I can not make a decision. Not even simple ones. I make them into something huge. I JUST KNOW that no matter what I decide on, the other option would have been better. Color, Name etc...I had to break out the thesaurus!! Got some ideas for other projects..no help for this though! Well, I've decided I'm going to bed