Had my first hospital call last night

And it went alright.

I got to work with one of our medical advocates. What a woman! She is just amazing--so calm, educated, caring and just really really good at what she does.

She was a great teacher to me last night. I felt like I came away with a better understanding of how to be a victim's advocate.

I got the page after I'd already been asleep for a couple of hours, so I scrambled to throw some clothes on (thankfully we don't have to dress up to do a hospital visit), and got my ass over there.

On the way there, a million things went through my head. I didn't know who was there waiting for me or what the scenario was going to be.

All I could think was that something bad happened to someone and it was my job to try and make the situation as easy and comfortable as possible--if it was possible. I couldn't let my emotion cloud what I was there for.

It's just really hard to not think about my girls and how I would deal if they were hurt in such a heinous and disgusting way. Or about friends that have had to deal with sexual assault, rape, molestation...

As soon as I walked in though, it was gone. I felt ready to deal with whatever they threw at me.

And I did.

The only thing I didn't like was leaving. My job, at this point in my volunteering, is to be there for support, give resources and be done.

I'm anxious to "level up" and work more on the prosecution's end. As much as I enjoy helping people in the thick of it, I really want to help put the perpetrators behind bars.

I'm working on it.

Stuff and Things

Is anyone still checking in on me?



I'm lame and have slacked once again. Part of it is that my laptop is still dead (but I'm very lucky to have a friend who knows his shit about computers, and is graciously working on it for me--Thanks Rick!).

I had to miss Katie Schwartz's reading at the Pilcrow Lit. Festival because Mina had an end of the year picnic with her class, and I would have never heard the end of it if I had been the only parent who wasn't there. Sorry Katie. I had every intention of going until that came up.



School's out now, so it's been a nonstop circus of excitement 'round this parts. It's nice to not have to get up at any certain time and be able to enjoy the warm weather and the kick ass thunderstorms we've been having.



We planted all kinds of flowers and some vegetables too.



I finished my volunteer training and have the pager this weekend. I haven't gotten any calls yet, and that's a good thing.



A little while back I was having fun making fun little cards, and finally made so many that I put a few up on etsy to see what would happen. I sold one so far, and that pretty much made my year. Even if I don't sell anymore, at least I can say someone out there liked my stuff so much they were willing to pay actual money for it.



Here's a link if you want to see: http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5923697

I leave for Italy two weeks from today, and I am nowhere near ready. I'm not even sure what clothes to bring. I've had a couple people tell me to bring something to cover my shoulders if I want to tour any cathedrals. My cousin said not to bring any shorts (I don't own any anyway), but that capris and sundresses were OK.

I have a 5 hour layover at JFK, and my brother is going to come out from his house in the Bronx to have dinner with me. It'll be nice to see him as I only get to visit with him about once or twice a year.

I fly into Milan where I'll spend the day wandering by myself, then I'm going to take a train over to Venice to meet up with my cousin. From there I think we'll make our way down to see this and that until we make it to Rome by the last day, where I'll fly out.

I'm excited. I don't think it will really hit me until I am on the plane.

Oh, and I'm going back to school in the fall. I signed up for one class at the local Community College (Intro. to Criminal Justice). I met with one of their academic advisors who went over my old ISU transcripts and plugged in the 90 credits to see what I had left for an Associates.

It looks like I only have a handful of classes to finish my two year degree. Then it's back to ISU for a Psychology major and Criminal Justice minor.

Most of my gen. ed. stuff has already been covered, but times have changed since I was in college last and I'm sure I'll need a few computer classes to catch up with the rest of the world.

I'm really excited about this new career path. I've done some research and found that there are professional vicitims' advocacy jobs out there. I'm just going to get those pieces of paper and go from there.

During training to be a rape crisis volunteer, we got to speak with two Assistant State's Attorneys and they were amazing (and really cool to boot. I would so go out drinking with those women). No, I do not want to go to law school, but helping to put sex offenders, child molesters and wife beaters behind bars very much appeals to me.

So....

Yeah. I've had a lot going on.

Forgive me?

Oy vey is right

My husband told me about an application on Facebook for playing Blackjack. I loooove playing Blackjack, so naturally I was all about it.

I picked an empty table to practice and see how all the bells and whistles worked. I had a few games under my belt when someone else joined me.

She didn't do anything at first. I continued to play.

Suddenly there was a message from her down on the chat function in the corner.

All it said was:

"jewish?"

My name is a slight bastardization of a Hebrew word. My father happens to have been raised a Jew before converting to Christianity as a young adult. When I was young, my family would sometimes light the menorah next to the Christmas tree (well, not right next to it--didn't want to burn the house down.) But my Mother is not Jewish, so none of this makes me "officially" Jewish.

More like Jew-ish.

"yeah," I typed back to my nosy table mate, "no one usually gets that from the name."

And as soon as she read it, she was gone.

Nazi bitch.

One time I could have gone to jail

Back in college I partied a lot. Like a LOT a lot. It makes perfect sense that I never got my degree. I pretty much pushed the limits of my very being for a good four years.

But it's alright. I wouldn't take more than a handful of those experiences back, and everything turned out OK in the end. I mean, look at me now. I'm Suzy fucking Homemaker!

I was a bartender as one of my many jobs through college which meant that, on a busy night anyway, I didn't get the chance to get my personal drink on until after close at an after hours party.

Most of the bartenders went out together after close which was fun because I didn't have to be the only partially sober person walking into the mayhem of people who'd already been drinking for several hours.

One night my friend Alison and I went out after work with an old friend of hers, Pete, who was in town visiting. He was a nice guy and was game to join us for what I thought would be a few beers at a small gathering.

We got there and the party was outside. I remember it was a really warm night and everyone was sitting in the grass just chatting and laughing.

At one point I lost track of Alison. I was talking to Pete for a little bit when I looked up to see Alison in a very heated argument with some dumpy drunk guy.

Pete seemed a little apprehensive about the situation but we both knew Alison well. She could handle herself in just about any situation.

A few minutes later I could tell their conversation was getting heated...then physical. Pete and I looked at each other in disbelief. They weren't throwing punches. It was more like a very unfriendly wrestling match. It was so weird because they weren't making a whole lot of noise and it was pretty dark in the yard so no one was really paying attention.

At one point, Dumpy Drunk Dude had Alison pinned by the shoulders with his knees. He had his weight as a major advantage and I could tell Alison was stuck.

I looked at Pete, reached behind him and grabbed an empty beer bottle. I got up and silently walked over to the ruckus.

I calmly told DDD to "get the fuck off her" before smashing the bottle over his head.

I stood there for a good 5 seconds before I heard someone tell me to run. And I ran.

My boyfriend at the time (presently my husband) lived a few short blocks away and I sprinted just as fast as my short little legs could take me.

I burst into the apartment to find he and his roommate playing Tomb Raider, oblivious to my half crazed panting behind them.

"Holy shit!" I said trying to break Lara Croft's vice-like grip on their senses, "I just broke a bottle on some guy's head!"

Before I could get any reaction out of either of them, Alison and Pete came in.

"Holy shit!" Alison yelled, "You just broke a bottle on some guy's head!"

About a year later I was at the bar hanging out when some guy I didn't recognize walked up to me and told me I owed him a drink. It took me a minute to figure it out. Then, I couldn't help myself. I started laughing.

He tried to make me feel guilty about the fact that he needed a bunch of stitches that night, but I wasn't having it. I told him he deserved it, and walked away.

Kind of makes me want to eat some pussy and have an abortion just to spite them

A friend forwarded this to me. You've probably seen it by now but just in case, here you go:


http://view.break.com/278059 - Watch more free videos



It goes without saying that the last bit breaks my heart into a million pieces. Hate breeding hate. My skin is crawling. Lovely.

I have to wonder what the upside down Canadian flag has anything to do with the song. Does God only hate Canada? I thought he hated the whole world.

And really, if we are doomed to the everlasting pits of hell anyway, why are they bothering to tell us. Isn't it too late to save our heathen souls?

Why I love living in Normal, IL

Things like this make the paper.

Awesome.

Reason #4852 I Shouldn't Own a Gun

On the way home from Mina's first birthday party of the today I had to stop at a gas station to fill up one of my tires. One of my neighbors was nice enough to knock on my door and let me know that he noticed I had one going flat. I thought that was pretty damn swell. Wasn't it?

I pulled into one gas station and their air machine was broken. I will refrain from going into my thoughts on a fucking AIR machine being broken. (Seriously. It's air. Did they run out?).

Next stop was the gas station by my house. Their air machine is free. Honestly, I never understood paying for air in the first place.

There are two non-handicap parking spots one can park in the get access to the machine. One was taken and one was blocked by some asshole pulling out of it as slooooowly as he possibly could.

If it would have been some old person just being elderly and shit, I would have given them a pass, but it wasn't. It was some dude in a POS van, yakking on his cell phone, not paying attention.

Well, not paying attention until he saw my eyelasers fixed on his location. But did that shake him into the real world--the real world where people are courteous and aware of their surroundings? Nope.

Not until I mouthed (mouthed, not said. My kids were in the car) "you need to get out of the way" did he finish his 37 point turn--still having a cell phone conversation--out of the spot I needed.

I thought he had left the parking lot, but was mostly intent on filling up my flaccid rear tire. When I looked up after returning the air hose, I saw that he had stopped his car directly behind mine.

I knew I just needed to get in and put my car in reverse and he probably would have gotten the hint. I knew that the best thing would be to just keep my mouth shut and give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he thought I was going into the gas station. I hadn't gotten my very visible children out of the car. I didn't have my purse on me. It was plainly obvious all I needed was some air for my tires, BUT maybe he was so engrossed in his obviously important phone call he didn't notice that I HAVE SHIT TO DO.

But I didn't keep my mouth shut.

Hands on hips, cocked head and all, I spat a "REALLY?!" at him.

He moved. Quickly.

At times like these, I don't really need a gun.

"Pissed Off Chaylene" is scary enough.

I Worship at the Church of Dateline

I got a letter yesterday informing me that I had won some European lottery! Oh yes, a lottery I never entered. A lottery I've never even heard of (to be fair, I don't keep up on European lotteries).

And there was a check enclosed!

Of course, I have to pay taxes on it, and these people were kind and generous enough to make the check out over the amount of my winnings in order for me to do so.

It's just that easy.

Gosh Golly, what a lucky girl I am!

I'm sure it's all on the up and up. I mean, just the other day I was praying for a miracle. Money is tight right now, and I am on a half-assed job hunt, and out of nowhere a check for $5,000 shows up. Thank you Jesus!
I think I'll call the lottery office up right this second and give them my social security number and maybe my husband's and daughters' too. Maybe they have checks waiting for them as well!

I'm too lazy to drive to the bank, so maybe I'll throw in my checking account number so they can just deposit it for me.

This must be real. I mean, everyone knows that when times get rough, free money just appears at your doorstep.

Oh My

I read in the paper today that the woman who owns the place that I board my dogs was arrested for animal cruelty.

Before I go any further, I want to state for the record that I do not think she did it. I just can't.

Is she a little rough around the edges? Yeah. Could I see her attempting to poison a person? Maybe. If she got pissed off enough. But an animal? No fucking way.

The article states that there are several witnesses putting her car at the scene. She does drive a huge, white SUV with gold trim and a vanity plate. It's wouldn't be hard to miss her behemoth vehicle even in the dark. But what the article doesn't say is who these witnesses saw behind the wheel. I'm holding onto the hope that it wasn't her driving--that someone else took some grudge or fight too far and borrowed her car to settle the score, unbeknownst to a woman I've trusted my dogs to more times than I can count.

The saddest part, as a friend of mine pointed out, is that no matter the outcome, her dog grooming/boarding business is going to suffer a major hit and may not recover at all.

Part of me wants to take my dogs over there right now to prove that I don't believe that she could ever be capable of hurting an animal.

I just hope I'm right.

Birds are stupid

While I was outside having my morning coffee, a couple of birds flew into the screened in porch. That was at about 8am.

It's almost 4pm and they're still flapping around in there. They can't figure out how to get out.

I tried enticing them with bits of bread crumbs at the door, but they didn't seem to notice. They'd rather fly into the screen, getting their beaks stuck, and leaving holes all over.

I tried shooing them out with a broom, but all that did was cause one of them to drop dead on the floor.

I really thought I gave it a heart attack, and I immediately burst into tears. It just laid there for a few minutes, not moving.

After that episode I decided better to ignore the whole matter until Jim got home. I like to leave the dirty jobs to him, like when one of the babies would poop in the tub during their nighttime bath.

"I've got a surprise for you in the bathtub," I would sing to him when he walked in the door after work. Worked every time.

As it turned out, the bird was not dead--only playing dead. How fucked up is that?

Maybe they're not as stupid as I thought.

Proof that I have not lost my badassedness to motherhood*

On Thursday nights I meet a couple friends out for a drink. I don't make it out every week but when I do, it's a nice break in the week--especially in these last few months with all the house craziness.

Yesterday was particularly deserving of an adult beverage. I took the girls to the pool in the morning, then took them grocery shopping, then had to get home to wait around for the home appraiser. My girls really should have laid down for some "quiet time" because they were really wiped out from swimming, but I knew they would get interrupted by whoever was coming over to appraise the house. So, no nap.

Nevermind that the guy was an hour and half later than he said he was going to be, and my kids were practically clawing at their face in exhaustion. When Mina gets overtired, she takes on all the characteristics of someone with Tourette's Syndrome, randomly shouting and screeching. Audrey just whines and cries at every single imagined infraction of the universe.

Add to all of this the fact that I was on day one of Bleed Fest June '07, and even though I had taken enough ibuprofen to put down a racehorse, I could still feel my shitty baby purse cramping away.

By 5:30, the noise level in my house had reached monkey house proportions, and I was ready to put my head in the oven.

By the time 9:30 rolled around, I was more than ready to get that drink.

I got to the bar and strolled down to the end to find my friend and her husband waiting. She got up to play some songs on the jukebox, so I followed her over to chat. While we standing there, some drunk fuck stumbled by and literally stopped in his tracks and proceeded to give her a full body leer. He was gross and grizzled and smelled like ass. It was kind of funny the way he didn't even try to hide the fact that he was checking her out head to toe.

We shrugged it off and went back to picking songs.

When we sat back down, Drunk Perv happened to be sitting a couple seats down, across the L-shaped bar. My friend than told me that Drunk Perv had been sitting there the whole time she had been there, trying to make conversation with her husband and her for a good hour. By the time I got there he was so drunk, he was now just staring at us. He might have been drooling. I don't know. It was kind of dark in there.

After trying to ignore him and talk with my friend, I couldn't take it anymore. It's really hard to have a conversation when someone is boring holes in your breasts with their eyes, and not even trying to be subtle about it.

Finally, the day caught up with me. All the yelling and crying and waiting around and trying to pack and make lists for the next day and thinking about my surgery and already being so tired from it all spewed out of me.

"YOU NEED TO FUCKING STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

"Wha--"

"I don't know if you're staring at her or him or me or WHAT, but you need to stop fucking staring over here because it is seriously creeping me out."

"I'm just listening to the music..."

"I don't care what you're doing, but you need to stop staring at us while you do it."

So he got up and stumbled out of the bar.

I don't know what came over me. I mean, that's something I always want to say when this type of situation comes up, but I never do. Sure, I've had my share of "incidents" in the past, but it's been years since I got to break a bottle on someone's head, put a cigarette out on someone's back, hit someone in the head with a pay phone receiver or break a broomstick jabbing someone in the back....but I digress.

I'm an adult now--an adult with two small children. I'm not supposed to yell at drunken slobs for skeeving my friends and I out--or am I? Who's to say I can't still throw down (verbally only-I don't feel the need to physically harm anyone unless they pose a threat to my family)?

I feel pretty good this morning.


*That picture is from NYE 2005, and yes that is a Girl Scout shirt and sweater.

It was worth it

This morning, on my way to the grocery store or "the Jewels" as someone likes to call it, I hit a squirrel.

I saw it running across the road in front of me at the last moment and tapped my breaks to try and avoid him. It didn't work. I heard the unmistakable thud, and when I looked back, his little furry body lay motionless in the street.

I've only hit one other living thing in my entire driving career. It was a hedgehog...I think.

I was driving with my husband one night and, one goddamn block from home, I see this flash of something about .04 of a second before I heard that horrible ka-chunk noise at my front right wheel.

I immediately broke down in sobs, barely making it home. I made my husband go back and make sure the little guy wasn't limping across the road, so he grabbed a shovel on his way out the door.

"What are you going to do with that?!" I blubbered.

"Scrape it off the road and throw it under a bush, of course." He's so romantic.

When he got back he told me that the hedgehog (or whatever it was) was dead and he gave it a proper scraping/bush toss.

Years later he fessed up and told me that it wasn't all the way dead when he got down there, and the shovel became a multi-tasker that night.

Apparently I have become something of a heartless bitch as hitting the squirrel today pissed me off more than upset me. I drive that road at least once a day everyday, and now I am going to have to be reminded of the carnage on a regular basis.

There is an upside to all of this though. Hitting that squirrel may have been just the magic spell to get my house sold. A few hours later, I got a call from my realtor. It seems the people who came to see the house today are most likely going to put in an offer! I don't want to get too excited, but this very well could be it. Who knew all it would take was a little animal sacrifice?

I've been mulling over the idea of hitting a few more puffy-tailed rodents in the hopes of getting over asking price.

This all I have today

A couple of of the dolphins recused after Hurricane Katrina are pregnant.

No word yet from Howard K. Stern

One time, I should have kept my mouth shut

In 1983 a murder took place in my town. I didn't live here then, but I did read the book that was written about it (twice). It's a fascinating case made even more eerie by the fact that it took place in the town I live in. If you are a true crime junkie like me, it's a must read.

I used to be a hairstylist. Before I had kids, I worked really long (12+ hour) days behind the chair and I got to meet many interesting people from many different walks of life.

One night I had a new client who was referred to me by her sister. She had a really different name. Being a "Chaylene", I can sympathize with others saddled with a fucked up moniker.

We chatted easily and had a couple of laughs before I started cutting her hair. Halfway though the haircut, I brought up her name again. I'd only heard once before, I told her.

"Remember that Hendrick's murder in the 80's?"

"Yes."

"I read that book recently. One of the models that guy used for his business pamphlets had your name. Can you imagine what that was like. I mean, those girls must feel so creeped out knowing they modeled for a murderer!"

"Uh...that was me."


She found a new stylist after that.