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November 02, 2001

I had planned to write yesterday. And the day before that, and - even before that...

... sometimes the best laid plans lay there inside my head and never come completely into fruition. So... while I was busy doing a variety of other things, once again.... I was thinking about writing and that's as far as it got. Of course, in this case - action speaks as loud as written words. Therein lies proof of my imperfection. Perhaps I should have made that plural. I've plenty.

Kick me - kick me - kick me. Again.... my genetic defect in specific date recollection fails me. I've never had the ability to remember dates so I could assume that it is a specific brain function. If anyone knows of research in that area, please contact me. I am a classic case and would be open for multi-function brain wave study to find the missing dendrites. AGAIN... I have forgotten several birthdays already this year. If there is one gift I'd like to have, it would be that. Unfortunately, nobody can buy that or give it to me via any means. But, M tells me that she will have me organized in that department one day.... and, as much as that idea makes me laugh - I really do believe that will be a good thing. It's so apparent I need that. Until then, if it is your birthday or anniversary any time soon - feel free to remind me. GOODGOD!!!!!!!! I absolutely HATE that about myself!!!!!!

The funnier thing about this is that I am such a virtual repository for trivial shit. And, I do mean shit. I would do well on a variety of game shows but, I would be hard pressed to tell you the date of my father's birth. There is some solace in the fact that I am apparently not home alone.

While numbers aren't my game, some numbers have me wound up. Like the number of days before M and I can actually be together without someone leaving with luggage. What number is that? < Oh....Miss Cleo.... here's a chance to prove yourself.... >

Astounding new revelations lead me to believe that the day looks like it could be around the bend because we recently found out M got certified to teach in the state I live in!!!!!!! Woooooooo damn hoooooooo, eh?! Well.... of course! We're getting all excited about that! Wahhhhhhh hooooooooooo baby!!!!!!!!!!

Therefore, I am now beside myself < in case it went unnoticed >. I've got plenty of work to do around the house before this happens < I suppose you are stunned >. So does M. You don't just pick up and leave 2,000 miles across the country without proper planning. Especially with 2 kids, a house you own, and pets, too. If she gets a job here.... they could be here next summer. You don't do anything big like this without planning. No matter what it is. Ya gotta do yer homework.

OHMYGOD!!!!!! I am being reality bitch-slapped!!!!!! I'm living this dream and loving it. M and the kids are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I know - I know - I know.... it sounds so.... so.... so fucking corny, doesn't it?! Especially if the people that I know in real life actually heard me say that! Ha! What in the hell ever happened to me, eh? Where did I go?

Hmmmmmm.... I suppose that time changes us all in ways that are amazing. My evolution hasn't stopped and I don't expect it to. I'm not stuck in a rut. There are so many possibilities in things. Of course, if you looked at my life on the surface, you might expect me to be quite different than I am. Well, some things surprise even me. That's especially true when you look underneath the surface. When you get in the deep, it's amazing.

I have no one to blame for who or how I am today, yet.... I have God to thank. Yes I do. All things truly are possible.

I can sit here typing and say that I recall not being sure about God. Even a time when I didn't believe in God. I mean, everybody was saying God this and God that and where was God for me < oops! I almost said "where in the hell" >? Anyway... I didn't feel God. I didn't feel a connection with the universe, or, even many other people. I felt nothing like that. I questioned everything and I was disconnected. Totally disconnected. I was separate. I operated believing in the separation of individualism. I felt that it was I that made things happen. Me alone. In a way that is still true because we have choices. There are differing results depending on the direction we take.

I still question most everything. But, I do believe in that higher power... that center of the universe... the "thing" we call God. I can't tell you WHY I believe it, but.... it has a part of me and I have a part of "it."

If you don't believe, well....... we all have our separate journeys. If you find that belief isn't part of this journey, then.... that's you. I wouldn't try to convince you that there is a God. Either you find that to be true or you don't. Either you feel it or you don't. It's not something I feel iffy about. And, it's not something I've had crammed down my throat. Belief doesn't come by force.

November 04, 2001

Cass came over and we took a drive over to my Aunt's house to see the wrecked car. DAMN! I'm surprised my cousin survived this! From looking at the damage, it's no wonder that he has a back injury. Thank God they weren't in a smaller car. My Aunt wasn't home when we stopped... she must have been out in the new, old car she recently bought. The one I haven't seen yet.

OH.... and her trip to the doctor turned up some good news regarding the lymph node lump discovered in the accident x-rays.... or, what sounds like good news right now anyway - the doc said, "don't worry about it and come back in 4 months." The doc doesn't think it's cancer. I hope not. Whew. Another close one.

The mission of the day was twofold. Not only in seeing my Aunt's car but to get some new cedar chips for the dog houses. That'll help them to keep warm this winter and, it'll make 'em smell like big gerbils. It masks the doggy scent.

We took the country route to the agricultural supply store. After my getting slightly disoriented on the back roads, we arrived and, I noticed the giant parking lot was nearly bare. Once inside the store, the agricultural supply section was noticeably bareassed of normal stock. Strange. Strange because around here, that is a common fall purchase in preparation for cold weather. It's nearly unheard of for an ag supply store to be without cedar chips at any given time, let alone now. Yet, oddly enough... the place was full of lawn decorations for Christmas. That wouldn't be a place I would go even if I was looking for things like that. But.... if you knew me, you'd know I'd probably never be out looking for anything like that.

Prediction: this farm store is going down the tubes.

Shit! There's nothing around here. Nowhere else to go to get the cedar chips. Hmmmmm.... oh yeah, there's a K-Mart on the edge of town. OK. We'll try that.

The K-Mart - or "big K" is located in an "L" shaped shopping center on a corner just past a heavy industrial area. It's not a place where I would normally go, and, its not in the best part of town. The parking lot is full of pot holes and the K-Mart is the only functioning business in the entire row of stores. Everything else has been closed down. I don't know when this happened, but, obviously... the slow demise eventually devoured all other business. No doubt this K-Mart is one of the less profitable stores in the chain. I suppose it's a matter of time before they are gone, too.

After canvassing the perimeter inside of the entire store, we didn't find a pet center and left. As we pulled out, Cass eyed the garden center... maybe it was in there... but, too bad because I didn't feel like going back there now. So, we hit the highway and I headed to the area of town that I had originally hoped to avoid. Some days are just like that. But, it was Sunday and it was OK... and, I couldn't help but to laugh at the absurdity.

Once we got the cedar chips < from of all places: Walmart >, we decided we were going to go someplace to eat. The place I whipped into was closed and didn't open until 4. We had more than an hour wait. So, we decided to head back to my house and go to the place 5 miles down the road from me. Come to think of it, this closed place was the same place I was gonna take M and the kids this summer and they were closed then, too.

Once we got to the restaurant down the street, the parking area was jam packed. Apparently, everyone had the same idea at the same time. Awwwwwww..... shit. Oh, well. We were there so we went in anyway. We sat in the bar and had a few beers and talked to a few locals as people streamed in and out.

One guy sitting near us was eating a chunk of mammal that was nearly raw and bleeding on the plate. This visual did very little for my appetite. Ewwwwwwwwwww... how gross. Cass and I both decided we'd leave there and go back to my house and I'd throw a pizza in the oven and make a salad. So, that's exactly what we did. And, while the pizza cooked - she helped me put the cedar chips in Tasha and Booda's dog house.

During our visit, Cass and I talked a lot about M and the kids... and, along with the relationship talk - we talked about friendships. And, that's one thing I can say about Cass - even in times where we have had our differences, we both feel comfortable enough talking to each other and have always managed to eventually talk about things. And... she has always been more than supportive of my relationship with M. In fact, if you've been following along... you already know that she saw it coming before I did.

While some friends come and go in your life, there are some you'll know for life. Cass is someone that I feel will be a lasting friend. No matter what happens in our lives, we'll be in contact - even if we are separated by miles and/or time. While each of us has our problems and our faults, we have an understanding of each other. People don't always connect like that. But, it's cool when it happens.

Cass and I were destined to meet, and while neither of us believe that the reason we met was to have a relationship... we know we are better people because we met. In the cosmic whole, it was a turning point for us both. We found something in ourselves by finding each other. It was a time of tremendous growth for each of us.

One day, I hope that Cass finds what I have found in M and the kids. Finding the real love she deserves is my biggest wish for her.

November 05, 2001

Wooooo hooooooo!!!!!!!!!! Arizona won the World Series last night!!!!!!!! And, according to M, people in her neighborhood were whooping and hollering in the streets!

Today, I've been back to work around the house. I've got another large pile of material to take to the curb this week. The pare down is becoming evident in the garage.

I'm also getting the old truck ready for winter. After the first snow fall, the car will be parked in the garage. As for the truck - the fluid levels checked out OK < with only minor adjustments > and the belts and hoses appear to be serviceable. I ordered a new replacement exterior mirror for it today. Once I get that on - I should be good to go. Although, I may slap that other set of tires on it. Of course, I'll throw them in the back and take it in somewhere for that. Hopefully, I won't have any trouble with the truck this winter. I'm hoping to have something else to drive by next winter. Probably something a little newer, and something that I can fit M and the kids in as well. Will it be brand new? I'm not sure. I'm thinking not only because the price of new vehicles are staggering - even with incentives. But, who knows.... I've had several new vehicles that were bought and paid for already. I can't rule it out entirely. Yet... I'm leaning toward the side of no < or very short term low > payments.

Speaking of goods and money... I talked to my Aunt today and it looks like the probate stuff that has been tied up in the court will be coming down this week. Once she gets the papers she'll have a list of all the people/places he owes money to. She needs to get an auctioneer over there to start cataloging his stuff. She certainly can't take on something like that herself. She hasn't got the slightest idea as to the value of these things. We are still wondering if she will break even. It's hard to say. She may not. And, well...... that would suck. But, I'm not sure any of us would be that surprised. My fingers are crossed. I'm hoping that somehow the scales tip in her favor.

OK.... I'm tired and I miss my girlfriend. Gotta go.
I promise to write again soon. And, to upload immediately after writing.

November 07, 2001

Long 10 hours at the office. I annoyed myself most of the day by wondering if I should start looking for a new vehicle soon. Sometimes I hate being preoccupied and, today, it was specifically pissing me off. Now.... of all times - at work.... I have this idea in my head about buying a damn Jeep.

Yep. That's right. Not a regular Jeep.... but, a damn Jeep. The thought won't leave me alone. Like a song stuck in my head, these are repetitive thoughts. Oh, and I'm not talking about a fancy Jeep, I'm talking about the one that looks like an Army issue. The Wrangler. The incredibly unfancy one.

Make it stop!!!!!!! Turn it off!!!!!!!

I do NOT need this kind of distraction at the moment. Maybe next spring it wouldn't be so bad.... but, now? It's before Christmas.... before winter and I've got plenty of other things to do. On one hand, if I found the "right" vehicle.... it might be a nice pre-winter gift to myself. BUT, the downside is that this would be the gift that kept giving to the BANK. Do I want payments now? Shouldn't I make some big "pretend" payments and see how badly it hurts the ol' cash flow?

OHGOD.... now just go away will ya? It's obvious to me that I am not ready. Unfortunately, it's also obvious to me that if the right vehicle came along... I'd probably jump at it.

There's all of these reasons why it might not be a bad choice to get a Jeep.... it has 4 wheel drive.... it's slightly impractical and at the same time it's practical. I could haul a trailer behind it if I needed to get the garden tractor in to the shop, or, if I needed to haul anything. I could spontaneously climb rocky outcroppings. I could take the top down on a nice day to allow my hair to become a tangled mess and make the wind blow so hard that it would be unlikely that I could hear music if I had it on. I could get a snowplow attachment and never miss a single day at work in the winter. I could mud bog and drive along the beach. Or, I could roll it over around a corner because I am used to driving a low flying Mitsubishi Eclipse. I could drive through the woods. It could be lots of fun AND.... if need be, M and the kids and I could cram into it. Well... wahhhh hooooo.

Oh, the perils of being me. What do I do?

Another choice to be made. And what's new with that? Every day we make choices. And, some have lasting effects.

While I currently cannot and have not made up my mind. I'll stick to smaller decisions today. Let's concentrate on what I will have for dinner. Yeah. What will I have? Hmmmm.... now let's see.....

.....there's not much at home. BUT.... around the office location here, let's see.... well, there is every fast food place imaginable, but that is x'd out right off the bat. There's Chinese.... there's a Deli.... there's Mexican.... there's pizza.... hmmmmmm. Nothing sounds all that appealing.

Why? Could it be because I'm not hungry? Probably so. I am not.

So, I head home. On the way I'm thinking: I could make spaghetti.... nawwwww.... I had that several days in a row last week. There are potatoes.... but, they have reached that soft, fleshy feeling stage. A trip to the composter will get those things out of site later - before they start growing something or oozing their potato esscence. Oh, and then there's a fresh head of broccoli.... corn on the cob.... soup.... and God only knows what is in the freezer. Funny thing is, I don't want any of it. Nothing sounds good at all.

I'm not deliberately trying to be a shit. No, I'm not.

Apparently, today isn't a good day to make any decisions.

November 08, 2001

Strange but true....

Pope to give the Net his blessing

VATICAN CITY- -
Pope John Paul, who writes most of his speeches by hand and does not own a computer, will dedicate his message for World Communications Day to the Internet, the Vatican said Tuesday.

The Vatican said the 81-year-old Pope had chosen the theme "Internet: A New Forum for Proclaiming the Gospel," for the yearly message, which will be published on January 24.

The Roman Catholic Church will mark World Communications Day on May 12 next year, but the message is published earlier in order to allow churches around the world to prepare.

The Pope's aides make no secret of the fact that he is a technological Luddite. He still writes his speeches and documents by hand or dictates them to aides. - -Reuters

GOODGOD!!!!!!! Do I ever feel better now!

And to think that all along we've been using the unsanitized version....

.... I shudder at the thought.

November 11, 2001

It's the morning after. The morning after a very ugly incident and another dark day to mark on the calendar.

Yesterday, the day actually started out pretty good. Productive even. I woke early and started the weekend with the customary talk with M on the phone. After making myself breakfast, I did some house cleaning and headed for the garage just before noon.

After going outside, I did what I normally do on the weekend - I let Tasha and Booda out and took them for a walk on the trails in the yard. After the walk, they stretched out in the grass with some big smoked knuckle bones I picked up for them from the butcher shop. I've been occasionally making a special trip there for them, and, I found it keeps Booda from wandering due to boredom. In between the work in the garage, I periodically walked over to them and bent down to speak to them as they gnawed away on their prize. They don't mind being petted while they eat or while they gnaw. And, while neither of them take their jaws away from the prize, they wag their tails, wiggle around and look at me appreciatively. Unlike with some dogs I've had, I can pet their noses and even grab what they are chewing on without a panic reaction < as if I'd take it away > or, anything resembling a slight growl due to the disturbance. Not with these two. In fact, I can put my fingers into their mouths while they eat and the only thing they will do is stop chewing and look up at me. In fact, they don't freak out even if I do take something away from them.

So, the sun was shining, the day was productive and I had two happy dogs laying the back yard. Life was wonderful - that is, if I didn't count my girlfriend and the kids being 2,000 miles away. Still, despite that huge flaw - it was pretty damn good. I was making the best of it.

While I was in the garage, I heard a beep in the driveway. It was the mail woman. She had a package and mail for me. Lo and behold, the replacement mirror for the truck arrived. Great.... now that's another thing I can get out of the way.

After locating a screwdriver and a small crescent wrench, I headed to the mirror mount on the truck for the five minute job. As I tightened the bolt, I heard a voice calling the old black lab < yes... Crash is still here! >. As I rounded the corner, I could see the oversized kid Kyle walking across the grass. He's the nice neighbor's grandson. Kyle is 13 and is a Special Education student. Of course... I know him, and, the dogs know him, too.

It was Easter weekend that I caught Kyle standing on a bench next to the kennel fence and throwing sticks at the dogs, as well as poking them with sticks. I yelled at him to knock it off. I previously documented the incident on the 16th of the month here.

The dogs never forgot Kyle, or, what he did on Easter. Several times since the original incident, I caught Kyle in my yard trying to get the attention of the dogs. Each time, Booda ran up to him and stood there barking his head off. He was telling him to get the hell out of the yard because the moment he would run back into his grandma's yard, Booda would turn and walk away. Kyle repeated this scenario and would run back into his grandmother's yard like it was some game. The dogs would stand on the property line and bark at him until he went back inside. Each time, I told Kyle... "hey, DON'T tease the dogs... they remember you and obviously they don't like you..." With Kyle, what would seem to be an obvious big fucking clue - it never stuck with him. He repeated the same scenario over and over again. I had the same words with him every damn time.

Yesterday was more of the same, only that Kyle decided to charge after them in my yard. He'd run at them and stamp his feet and put his hands up like they were claws and say... "HA..." and making bark-like sounds at them. I yelled at him again and told him to leave the dogs alone and leave the yard. His response was, "...and what are your dogs names again?"

The dogs names are Tasha and Booda, Kyle. They don't like you and you need to leave the yard... at which point, his Mother peeked out the back door and yelled, "KYLE...." and waved hello to me. Of course, I am perturbed enough to be thinking < nearly out loud >, "please get your stupid fucking kid out of here and tell him to stop this shit."

Kyle went into the house after yet another holler. The dogs went back to their bones and I went back to the garage.

It wasn't ten minutes later that Kyle was back at it again. His attention/retention span is almost non-existent. I mean, come on.... these dogs are PIT BULLS. What in the fuck is wrong with you? And, no matter what kind of a dog they were - with the reaction they had, why would anybody < even a 13 year old Special Ed student > be fucking with them?

Now, this time the dogs were really pissed when he came back into the yard. Booda was showing his teeth while Kyle was screaming and flailing his arms. As I walked to toward him, I saw Booda snapping at his feet as he stomped them again. In no time at all, as I neared him.... Tasha ran up and began growling and snapping along side me. I called the dogs back and told Kyle to leave. After one last stomping fest, he ran back to his grandmother's back porch deck and this time, Booda followed him. Tasha remained in the yard behind me but Booda was really pissed and Kyle was standing up against the back of the house, body stiffened and eyes as big as saucers. Booda wouldn't stop barking, nor was he listening to me.

After a few minutes, Booda was back in the yard. That's it. Booda is not listening. The bones and you both are going to get locked up in the Outback. I had no problem getting them inside.

Damn. Stupid fucking Kyle. The kid is bigger than me and dumber than a rock. And, while I generally have plenty of empathy with Special Ed kids... this kid seems to defy explanation. Oh well.... the dogs are in the pen and I'll just have to keep an eye out for anything else. Now, back to the garage.

About 20 minutes pass. I hear voices again. And, I hear the dogs barking wildly. It's Kyle. This time he is standing near the back of their kennel and saying only God knows what. As I walk across the yard once again, I can hear Kyle but can't see him. Out of the corner of my eye I see Booda rear up and leap over the fence. A second later, I see Kyle screaming and running and Booda is on his tail snapping at him. I scream for him to stop and when he stops, the dog stops. I call Booda over to me. Once, twice...... fifteen times. Finally, he trots over.

As Booda stands next to me. I am now standing in the neighbor's back yard. I yell at Kyle again.... and now I see his Dad coming running toward me across the grass. By the time he got 15 feet away from me he was yelling at me. "Your dog nipped at my boy..."

Yeah, well.... Kyle will not quit teasing my dogs and this isn't the first time. The first time I caught him on Easter weekend throwing things at them and poking them with sticks while they were fenced in the kennel... As the pissed off Dad walked closer to me, Booda began a low guttural growl. The guy yelled at me again as he walked even closer. By the time he said, "Your goddamn dog is...." Booda was right at him. He walked backward looking at the dog and screaming at him to, "get the fuck away..." While Booda inched forward, muscles taught, tail down, lips quivering and teeth showing... I called him off. He wouldn't listen to me. He didn't even hear me. I kept repeating his name, "Booda COME...." when the guy pulled an iron stake out of the ground and began swinging it over his head at the dog. Booda would not respond to my call. He was locked on target. The guy was close to falling on his back - smack on the deck when he screamed, "I'm gonna bring a god-damned gun over here and shoot this mother fucking dog.... this son-of-a-bitched nipped at my son...."

Ummm.... ahhhhhh.... no you won't. And.... don't you dare hit my dog in the head with that piece of iron. I knew in my heart if he did - Booda would attack him. Quit screaming and I can get his attention.

Nevertheless.... Booda wouldn't listen to me or stop barking. I walked over and slapped him on the rear and called his name. Finally, he backed off. He sat at my side and continued to growl as he heard their loud voices.

Then, a bald guy with a shiny white head and lots of gold earrings in his ears... comes running over. I forgot what he said his name was but after introducing himself he informs me he is the neighbor on the other side of the good neighbor and that this same dog "charged at his mother" and his 2 year old kid. Hmmmmmm..... now when was this? This is the very first I've heard of that. So... why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you let me know? "Well... cuz I didn't want to be an asshole..." < DUH - you ARE an asshole >

HUH??? And, isn't it being MORE of an asshole by NOT telling me this? Isn't that being stupid where safety is concerned if you feel as though my dog acted in a threatening manner - especially toward a child? Well.... whatthefuckEVER. While I doubt that my dog did anything other than run up to them - here I was in the middle of THIS situation. Booda liked kids and, his behavior < other than with Kyle > told me that he liked most everybody. He's a big boy dog. His size alone says... "don't fuck with me." His very presence could be construed as scary.

At this point.... I heard some of the same stuff and a few new sentences. "That dog is gonna hurt somebody... I'll kill that bastard myself... he's a dangerous dog... you'll have a lawsuit on your hands..."

I made a snap decision. Only moments ago, I couldn't call him off the guy. Booda would not respond to my voice in the midst of everything. He was entirely unresponsive. And, I had the feeling that by the way the dog reacted to his threatening manner and screaming self, that if he had fallen backwards to the deck < or if he had hit him with the iron rod > - Booda might have hurt him severely or even killed him. Since my dog wouldn't back off initially, I felt that there would be far less of a chance of my intervention if he actually attacked him. Add all that to the fact that I believed this out-of-control guy would indeed come over with a gun and shoot my dog.

There's no need for you to shoot my dog Mister. I'll take care of it myself...

... I had my boy - the dog I loved so much put down yesterday. I spent the rest of the day crying over it. I'm still crying over it. But, I felt there wasn't a choice.

Pit Bulls make the paper everyday... rarely for good reasons. And, while Booda gave me and my friends and family plenty of kisses and happy dog faces... when he was in this situation it was as if I didn't exist. At that moment he was capable of hurting someone and I knew it. EVEN IF he was justified in his behavior due to theirs.... which I think he was - that was beside the point. Booda was doing what many dogs would do.... he was acting protective and defensive. Yet, if I couldn't immediately get control of him it meant nothing.

For a flash, I thought of getting him a new home. But, around here... illegal Pit Bull fighting rings are common and dogs are stolen regularly for this purpose. I didn't want anyone making him fight and, if I gave him away, there was always a chance that he would get into either that or, a situation like this again - especially if he felt threatened or was trying to be protective. There would be less of a chance he would listen to a new owner than even me. Far less.

Given the circumstances and the breed of dog.... I think I did the right thing. I do. BUT... nevertheless... I feel incredibly guilty about it.

I loved my dog. I really loved my bad ass Booda boy. I'll miss him and Tasha will surely miss him.

Rest in peace good buddy... I'll always love you.

November 12, 2001

Tasha is grieving. Losing her brother Booda has caused her obvious pain.

She's not eating much. Her head is hanging low as she walks in circles around the yard. Every dog bark heard in the distance stops her in her tracks. I feel so damn sorry for her. She's heartbroken.

It wasn't fair what happened.... but, that's the way some things in life are. Hell, many things are not fair. This is only one of them. In a way, I can't even believe it. But, when I look at Tasha, she's the reminder.

Now I'm pre-worrying about the frickin' kid Kyle that visits his grandmother next door. I do NOT want this kid in my yard AT ALL. But, it seems that whenever he is there, he goes outside and does whatever he wants to do with no supervision. I don't want him fucking around with Tasha. There's no reason for him to be in my yard - not even under the pretense of calling for the old dog Crash - especially since Crash is stone deaf. Obviously, I'm going to have to have a conversation with Pat, my nice neighbor - the grandmother. She and I can talk. And, I'm sure she will understand. She felt awful about my putting Booda down and she cried about it. She really liked him. He never bothered her aside from the stealing things from the garage part. Welllllll..... I think that bothered me even more than it bothered her. She used to think it was pretty damn funny.

Nearly any dog will become defensive given the circumstances of being repeatedly and purposely provoked. That was the problem Kyle messing with my dog in the first place. The dog has no concept of, "hey... this kid is in Special Ed and even though he looks like an ordinary kid his age, yet - he isn't." Granted, most kids would know better. BUT.... that is the EXACT reason this kid needs supervision. Does it take a rocket scientist to figure that one out? No.... and I'm only the neighbor with the dog. I am not his parent and it shouldn't be my job to watch this kid when he is over there.

Another part of the problem is that no matter if he is on my property or hers, if my dog bites him - it's my liability. And, just like on Saturday... if this kid wasn't fucking around provoking my dogs, none of this would have happened - and, it shouldn't have happened. And, that's the part that sucks big time. I lose my dog because an unsupervised kid with special needs is fucking around and harassing my animals. Top it off with the established pattern. It laid the groundwork for everything that transpired.

Part II: Same damn day.... 8 p.m.

When I lost my Booda, I lost a member of my family. As a result, I know that this grief and all of these emotions I am feeling is completely natural.

If you've never loved an animal that much, well.... I don't think you are human. Or, at least - you aren't a fully evolved human. I don't know what I'd call you aside from clearly lacking. OH... hmmmmm... WAIT A MINUTE... there ARE many other things I could call you, but, lets not get into that. < curious? Then try: ASSHOLE >

And, if you happen to fall into that category and are offended by my name calling: then get the hell out of here - and, don't let the URL snap you in the ass on the way out.

OK... calm down... calm down...

I'm trying. I am trying. So far, not much is working. I'm up and down and all around... I am missing an important part of my life. I'm angry and sad and I'm fucking mad...

I can't stop thinking about what went down over the weekend... OHMYGOD! It's true. It's true. It's really true. The Booda dog is gone. My beloved dog isn't running around here anymore. He isn't making me laugh or pissing me off. I'm no longer calling his name as he hides in the brush. I'm no longer worried he will get hit by a car again. I'm no longer worried that he'll scratch up something... like a car, a truck, or a kid... or me. But, I can't watch you jump around and play anymore. I can't admire the way you carried yourself across the yard running full force. I can't give you any treats and feel your dog lips take them ever so gently. I can't see you looking up at me with such a happy face. I can't see you laying on your back anymore by giving you a look of disappointment.

IF I COULD TALK TO MY DOG IN THE AFTERLIFE...
this is what I'd say:

My heart aches for you Booda. I'm hurting for myself. For Tasha. For all of your human friends and animal friends that loved you.

Booda, do you know what the worst thing is? Do you know what makes me cry the most?

It's this: you protected me, but I couldn't protect you.

I really didn't want to let you go. I didn't. I wanted to be so selfish and keep you with me. And you know what? I even thought about shooting that guy for you Booda.... but, you know I couldn't have done that. But, I thought of it because you were always there for me. Besides that, I had a rational moment and realized I would have ended up in prison and - who would have taken care of you then?

I miss you so much Booda baby... I really do. And while you may be gone from the yard, you will never be gone from my heart.

You were there for me right up until the end. And, you were doing the right thing, too. I'll never forget that.

PS...

Oh yeah... Booda, maybe you could come to Tasha in her dreams and comfort her. She really needs it. Your sister is crying for you. She misses you chasing her and, even you bossing her around. Afterall, she did worship the grass you walked on.

November 14, 2001

OK. I'm feeling a little better at the moment. I just talked to my neighbor Pat.

After I arrived home from work, I went out back to let Tasha out. She was waiting at the gate and visibly excited to see me today. This is the best she's looked since Booda has been gone. We went for a walk and she was jumping around and running like she was possessed. Seems her high energy is back. That's really good to see, even if it was a momentary flash.

In between run and jumps, Tasha has been madly itching her neck. Why? Because she is wearing a new blue collar. Prior to Booda's departure - I couldn't keep a collar on either of them. They'd take turns pulling each other around by the neck until the collar worked itself loose. Then, they'd play tug with them until they were ultimately destroyed. While they thought it was great fun, I thought rawhide toys were cheaper. In fact, I knew they were.

After watching Tasha run for a while, we walked closer to the back of the house. On one of the fence posts in the courtyard, my eyes were drawn to an ugly cookie-jar sized plastic cartoon-like frog. I smiled remembering that some months ago, Booda had stolen it from Pat's garage.

Perfect. This will be a good time to take it back to her. And, so I did.

We chatted on her back deck. While Tasha stood quietly by my side. Thank God that Pat is a nice, rational person and she understands totally where I am coming from in regard to Kyle. I told her that I didn't want him in my yard again. After I went over the events of that day with her, she said she was entirely unaware of exactly what Kyle had been up to < she was in the house cooking >. But, of course, she believed me because she knows Kyle... although she did say that Kyle didn't mention a thing about what he had done to anyone. Am I surprised? Hell no. Was she? Nope.

She feels terrible about Booda.... she said none of this should have happened. And, of course - I wholeheartedly agree and am sick about it, too. My point now is that it doesn't happen again. I don't want to litter the landscape by posting a bunch of "no trespassing" signs < that would most likely be largely ineffective anyway >. Neither, do I want to be placed in a position where I have no choice but to call the police. If he stays away from my yard and my dog, there should be no further problems.

I feel much better after talking to Pat. She said that she'd do her best to make sure he stays away. And, she's going to talk to her daughter, too.

What has happened is water under the bridge. I can't turn back time. I can't bring him back. But, I'll be damned if this bastard kid roams untethered instigating any animal I may have. He can't be trusted and she knows that. My dogs weren't the real problem from the beginning and after all is said and done, nothing can be undone. I don't want to deal with the kid at all. I don't want to tell him for the umpteenth time to leave my yard. I shouldn't have to. Besides, I already have enough to do.

And... speaking of things I'm doing... I've got my sister's two youngest kids here this weekend. I'm picking them up after I get out of work on Friday. Therefore, the weekend will be quite lively. Although there is very little chance of being constructive, that's alright. I enjoy being with them and it's been a while. If they were Kyle clones, that would be a different story. Thank God most kids aren't like Kyle... but, then again, much of the blame can be placed on one or both parents when it comes to that type of behavior in a child. I could truly go off wild with my thoughts on that subject... but, I won't. I'll save that for another time. Maybe even another place.

The kids are sure to be talking about Booda and asking questions this weekend. They loved him and knew him since he looked like a little black pot bellied pig. This will be so hard for them to understand. I'll also have to tell them to try and NOT say his name around Tasha. I think that will be easier for them to understand than my explaining to them why everything happened the way it did.

But, who knows? Since my nephew lost his father and has an understanding of death and loss, he'll probably tell me that Booda is with his Dad playing in heaven. Nothing would surprise me. He once told me that when he talks to his Dad, "my prayers to Daddy go right up into a little tube so he can hear it."

Yep. They might surprise me. They often do.

November 17, 2001

As I expected, the house is a mess. Every single item that resembles a toy has been pulled out of hiding. At the moment, they are playing a 2 player video game. It's a driving game. At 7 and 4 you can envision their ability to drive. I've already threaten to take both of their licenses away. "But we don't have licences." OK... so I'll have to arrest you for driving without a license. "...you don't have a jail." Ohhhhhhhh....yes I do. "Where?" The go-go cage. It's the off season. "... what's the off season?" well ...when was the last time you were dancing in the go-go cage? "I don't remember..." See... since you haven't been dancing, we'll turn it into a jail. It'll be like recycling. "What's THAT?" Recycling is when you re-use something instead of throwing it away. "You were gonna throw the go-go cage away?" No... just transform it into a jail. "What's transform?" Transform is change. "What is change?" It's mutation. It's those loose coins jingling in your pocket. It's what you do with your underware. Sometimes it's what you hope for. Sometimes it what you dread. It's when things don't stay the same. And you know what? A change will do ya good. "But... not jail. That's not good." Well kid... I'd write to you. And I'd send you gum, too. You could make the best of it and, you'd have plenty of time to become a lawyer. "What's a lawyer?" It's the person you'd call if you got put in jail - or, when you have a legal issue. "There's a phone in the go-go cage?" Uhhhhhh..... no...

These fun conversations were interspersed with playing inside and outside... and proclamations of hunger every hour. Add to that two mini-medical emergencies... THERE'S SOMETHING IN MY EYE! Hours later... " wah... now THERE'S SOMETHING IN MY EYE!" Not a good day for eyeballs around these parts. Although, I escaped unscathed despite stacking wood in the woodshed for over 3 hours. Neither of them had any interest in picking up wood and transferring it into the wheelbarrow. Nor in stacking wood. So.... we didn't have to worry at all about child labor laws.

They were wholly thrilled with the obnoxious TV dinners for kids. The ones with some mysterious blue applesauce. The preservatives in those alone can keep you alive a full week after you should be gone. This special purchase was for them alone. I wouldn't eat that stuff if it was the last thing in the house. Yuck. I'm not big on pre-packaged preservative laden food. It's too weird. In fact, I might even have a bad dream about that discolored applesauce.

Tonight it's more video games, bubble baths and probably cartoons.

After they fall asleep, I'll catch my breath.

November 18, 2001

This has been bugging me for a while now.
It's here as part of my debugging process.
Consider this entry cyberspace litter.

live and learn...
such is life...

While I feel I have a fairly good grasp in understanding people, occasionally one pops up that I don't entirely understand. What is specifically troubling here is that the person I am referring to when making this statement is someone I thought I knew. Someone I had considered a friend. Unfortunately, the death of the friendship was unavoidable. Even though it was imminent given the circumstances, I didn't feel good about it.

There were a few oddball things leading up to it, but - the straw that broke the camel's back was a direct attack on me as a person in the form of an e-mail. What happened? Hmmm... there was only one thing: preceding the e-mail, she had wanted me to get some merchandise for her at cost and she was all nicey-nice about it. That is... until I told her < the next day > I wasn't able to do it. For one, these were wholesale catalogs she was looking at and, I don't have a wholesale license. After looking into it, I needed that to buy anything from them. It was something I had been investigating as a potential sideline < like I need another, eh?! > Well.... presto change-o, once she realized she wasn't gonna get what she wanted... insty bitch. Get out the frickin' crank.

She sends me an e-mail which I won't excerpt except to say that the few people I subsequently shared it with, thought she had a major problem < well... it wasn't put that nicely - the predominant feeling was that she was a jealous bitch >. She dissed me, M and even my family! I could have blasted her with a blistering reply.... and, I didn't. I chose not to stoop to her level. Instead, because I felt attacked, my immediate response was to defend myself, and - to tell her that she hurt my feelings and ask her what she thought friendship was about.

She chose to completely ignore my response to her snide commentary. In fact, she pretended like it never happened. Like I would forget about it or something. About a week later I get an e-mail saying something about the weather and "I hope you had a good weekend."

My first thought upon reading that drivel was to send her that blistering letter. One in which I turned the tables on her with some REAL shit, instead of grasping for straws with some imagined crap. The one in which would begin: >> Dear fucking bitch ...perhaps this is why you can't get a decent man in your life.... << You know, the one in which I ripped her with words up one side and down the other. Yes. I thought about that. But, that isn't me. Not anymore. At a different time in my life - YES. I would have strung together sentences that would have left her feeling like the biggest asshole in the world. Instead I chose to do nothing at all. My silence spoke loud and clear. Let her deal with herself. I don't have to.

There were some things of mine that I needed to retrieve from her house, so.... I knew I'd have to encounter her again. I thought about getting right in her face and confronting her - but, what would be the point? To me, there was none. She could be left with her negative, judgmental, high and mighty self alone. She could be left to wonder. She could be left to think long and hard about it. Besides, at this point... we weren't going to be friends even IF she apologized to me. The damage was done. To disrespect me is one thing, but having the nerve to add M and even the family to the fray... well... don't even go there.

Last Sunday I went over there in a caravan with Cass, my brother and his two kids. We grabbed the stuff and made off in about 15 minutes. When I rounded the corner she was sitting on her ass outside near the back door. The moment after we arrived she began nervously tearing up cardboard boxes in the garage. There was definite tension in the air. I don't think I said more than 5 words to her while I was there. All of them were in response to something she said. There's nothing left to say.

The more I've thought about her, the more I realize now that she isn't the type of person I care to be around in the first place. She talks about everyone behind their backs - her co-workers, the few friends she has, etc.... so, you could figure she's got something to say about you when you aren't around as well. People like that generally do. No - they ALWAYS do. Nearly all of what comes out of her mouth is "he said, she said..." scenarios.... or, "he did, she did" shit. Whenever she was around < and it wasn't all that much > I'd listen to this crap and just think to myself, "big damn deal..." and, I blew it off. It when in one ear and out the other. It was meaningless gossip and drivel about people < most of the time > that I'd never even met and probably never would. I could have cared less. It was laughable. I'd simply shrug my shoulders, shake my head and move on.

Of course now, after I've had plenty of time to think about it - I don't think it's all that funny and I don't know why I didn't give it that much thought before. If I had been paying attention I already knew I didn't care to be around people like that. Or, for that matter... people who are continually critical, cruel or constant complainers. I don't want that any more than I want high drama. It takes too much energy and saps the spirit. I actually do prefer to be around loving people.

I try to be careful about my choice of words, generally speaking. And, I do try to make it a specific point never to say anything about anyone that I wouldn't say to that person. Hmmmm.... lets see.... I learned that by ohhhh... umm... about the 6th grade. Plus, it just doesn't look nice on people. There are plenty of other positive things people can find to talk about. Plenty.

As for my former friend < the one I thought I had >, it's apparent that while I initially thought I lost something - there's more to gain by having her out of my life. Anyone with that much disrespect doesn't deserve my respect and... well.... they weren't a real friend to begin with. While I could have published her stupid e-mail... I didn't. While I could have droned on about her and completely skewered her by giving more details... I didn't. She's got a problem and I'm not it. It's HER problem.

While she may have hurt my feelings and brought some anger to the surface as a result of her actions - I actually feel sorry for her. Why? Because I know that the little grief she has caused me in this matter, she'll feel it tenfold. It's that thing called karma. If she doesn't take heed and learn something in all of this, there's a hell of a lot more to lose down the road.

I truly didn't need this or deserve it. Enough happens in life naturally without creating and living in drama. There must be some reason in the scheme of life as to why this happened, yet... I'm left feeling more than a little stupid for thinking she was a friend. But, I'm not so stupid that I'll let someone treat me like that and go back for more.

It's funny but as I sit here now, I realize what a complete coward she is. I responded to her in a timely and reasonable manner with what she slung my way and got no response. She always proclaimed she took so much pride in saying things to everyone's face and I'm sure she'd like to believe that even though it isn't true. Although, I'm sure you've met people who wouldn't know the truth if they saw it. It makes me smirk to wonder what kind of a story she'll twist up to explain why I'm no longer around. No doubt she'll concoct something that'll save face on her part. It doesn't change the fact that she KNOWS what really happened. Until she drops that little facade, she won't learn a damn thing.

WHATEVER.

In the meantime... I'm moving right along ...

...moving along and holding my head up knowing that when I screw something up I'm willing to admit it and take the responsibility for it.

November 20, 2001

Sheesh. The entry above is like no other written since I began writing here. Weird thing, too. It certainly isn't a normal event in my life to have contrived drama like that. And, because nothing like that has ever happened to me before - I highly doubt it will ever happen again. If there's anything I can't stand it's bullshit.

While it felt good to write the above entry to blow off steam... I wish I hadn't the occasion to write it at all. But, as a kid growing up I found myself in situations where I had no control as to how I was treated or, in making choices < since many growing up are made for you >.... but now, as an adult - I don't have to take anybody's shit. I do have choices. In this case, I chose to turn the other cheek < although not the one on my face > and walk away.

Just because this happened, I haven't lost my faith or trust in people, and, I will make new friends along the way in life. I had expressed the fact recently... that some friends come and go in your life. This is one that fell to the wayside. So be it.

I value my true friends. Even if they are people that I don't see all that much, they still matter to me - as many of my friends have relocated over the years. I'm not a high maintenance friend. If you don't contact me for a while I don't assume there is a problem or begin to think our friendship is over. I would assume that you have your own life and are busy. Eventually we'll get together. Yet - if you need my help or you simply need to talk - I'll be there for you. That's what friends are for.

Right now, I don't have much time to hang out with people. I'm busy getting prepared for M and the kids... and I have a ton of work to do. You can expect some upcoming disappearing acts here I'm sure.

I'll be spending Thanksgiving at Mom and Dave's place. My brother and his 2 kids, my sister and her boyfriend along with the 3 kids...and, my Aunt. Yesterday, M surprised me and sent an absolutely gorgeous array of flowers that I'm taking over to Mom's house for Thanksgiving. Now if only she and the boys were there with us, my day would be complete.

It's so difficult being so far away.... harder than even I could have imagined. But, we have been amusing ourselves by looking for houses online and in the homes magazines I send her. We are dreaming about the future together. Recently, we found a house that we love that sits on nearly 3 acres with River frontage. It's a big house that has well over 2,000 square feet and 3 full bathrooms. It also has a full basement with its own kitchen. They don't count the basement in the square footage. Neither do they count the 22 by 11 foot screened porch on the rear of the house in the square footage. It's a huge place with a beautiful yard. All I can say is it's nice to have shared dreams. Now I'm trying not to think about cleaning that house... ;^)

I showed my Mom pictures of the house when she came over for a short visit yesterday, she thought it was really nice. She was even happier yet to know that the house wasn't miles away from civilization, although it was on the outskirts of town. Not all that far from where she and Dave live. In fact it would probably be about 15 minutes away from them. Further justifying looking into relocating in this area is the fact that in the winter, the roads would be plowed. When you live in Timbuktu, the roads could go unplowed for hours or even days. And, we'd be closer to shopping and the kids extracurricular activities. The big selling point for me is that it wouldn't be such a hardship in the winter. I don't want to be worrying about M trying to navigate in the snow. She has never driven in the snow or lived in a place that has a "real" winter.

The ultimate goal here is to make things easier in the long range plan. Of course, in the short range plan is nothing easy. M and I both have to work hard to make everything happen, but - once we get together a combined workload and household should make life easier on us both. Plus, we won't have callouses on our ears from the damn phone.

November 24, 2001

Whew! Worked hard yesterday. Finally, I got back to cutting trim boards and planing wood. I generated, at least, a garbage bag full of sawdust and wood shavings. Pleased with what I accomplished yesterday, I'm back at it today.

It's about time I started back on the house again. I've been a little down on myself for not being too productive in that area as of late. But, since winter is coming - it's imperative that I move along. I don't have heat out in the barn where the tools are, so.... it's most inconvenient once it drops below freezing and stays there. Most likely, whatever I can complete before Christmas will be IT. For a couple of months < plus > anyway.

I'm slightly irritated that it is such a damn mess doing this work. In construction... it's always worse before it gets better. I know that. Yet.... it doesn't put the kibosh to the annoyance I feel. While I would like things to be, "just so..." they aren't. I have to remind myself that this obstacle is only a hurdle. Constantly.

My living room - once again - looks like an extension of the barn. All of the trim pieces that have been cut < so far > are in there. There's a sheet of plastic on the floor and a gallon of polyurethane and some brushes nearby. There's no mistaking what the next step will be. So, once I get more work cut out for myself... I'll be doing that: polyurethaning.

The never-ending saga of finish carpentry.

November 26, 2001

Arrrggggghhhhhh. I now have a HUGE mess upstairs. Why? OK... I'll tell ya... it's because I had to take the circular saw and trim back the knotty pine and drywall around the windows so the extension jambs will fit. I should have been wearing a mask when I did the job. No doubt I'll be paying for that tomorrow upon waking.

There is a layer of dust on EVERYTHING upstairs. There was so much stuff floating in the air that I had to get out of there for hours in between windows. And, of course... by the time I went back up there after everything was cut back, it was getting late in the day. Late in the day when I discovered the extension jambs need modifications. They need to be trimmed down some for the proper fit. At least they are larger and not too small. The latter would have really ticked me off. I should be grateful... but, I'm not. It's that carpenter's angst thing. I actually expected to complete the trim around the windows up there today. Well.... ha ha ha.

This is nothing new. My great expectations are often met with a myriad of complications and detours. Why is it that I never actually expect that? How is it that I keep this perpetual optimism even when things rarely go smoothly? I don't know. It's an innate mystery. Yet, I suppose if I were a pessimist at heart, I would have given up on this a long time ago. NO. If I was a pessimist, I would have NEVER bought this place to begin with. I would have seen all the work and would have never been able to see beyond it.

Anyway.... so instead I took one of my favorite routes and let myself get completely sidetracked. I did a little of this and a little of that. I went through some more of my belongings - threw some things away and packed some things away. All the while I did this, I couldn't help but to feel miffed by my lack of progress. Not even while I was MAKING progress could I get the notion of failing to complete the window trim out of my head. It wouldn't matter what ELSE I did, I felt that I didn't accomplish enough because I didn't accomplish what I had intended. *Now THAT is an illustration of an annoying aspect of my personality if I've ever seen one.*

In the midst of today's cranky ass attitude, I'd like to dislodge this dialogue with a public announcement:
I'd like to thank everyone who wrote to me regarding Booda. Whether you expressed outrage, sent condolences or just wrote to say you were thinking about me during this time... it truly mattered. It helped see me through such a very difficult time. And while I can't honestly say I am all the way through this, I'd still like to thank you for taking the time to extend your support. It's nice to know there are so many wonderful, compassionate people out there.

It really did touch me.

Thank you.

November 28, 2001

Home again. After a long day at the office.

I slept upstairs last night for the first time since last winter. After a conversation with my girlfriend, I fell asleep quickly despite my declaration that I'd be up for a while right before we said goodnight. Given my history of insomnia, I'd say I'm doing pretty good lately. 6 hours is good. Much better than 3, 4 or 5. Yet, I still sleep the best when we are together.

Last night, I read something on the net about our government's plan to quarantine entire cities if we have a bioterror outbreak, like smallpox. Immediately I thought of us not being able to be together. My heart sank. Seems I'm prone to think the worst about certain situations. In light of that, I'm glad I didn't toss and turn and lay there eyes wide open long into the night, cursing the time and the insomnia stalker.

Upon awaking, I remember dreaming that M and I are looking in the windows of a house. I don't know where we were, but we were together. I do believe that I'm having these dreams because we have been looking at houses lately and dreaming while we are awake. It's only natural that I'd dream about it at night. This has been a reocurring dream theme of mine for a few weeks now.

The phone rang shortly after I woke up. It was M saying, "good morning." I told her about my dream and we talked for a few minutes before hanging up. She had to go back to sleep because it was 3:45 in the morning there. Nevertheless, I love to hear the sound of her voice when I wake up. Time to hit the shower.

After the shower, the phone rang again. It was my Sis. We talked for a couple of minutes when I sensed there was something wrong. I was just about to ask her when she said, "I'll stop by your office this morning.... I want to talk to you."

What's wrong? What's going on?

"Well... ummmm... did you see the news this weekend? Did you hear about that guy who got murdered about 2 blocks from me?"

Yeah. I did... and I....

"Uhhhh... I know who did it."

WHAT!!!?????? This had something to do with < I'll call her > Melissa, didn't it?

"Yes it did. The guy who lived with her. Him and his cousin. They did it."

OHMYGOD... what are you gonna do?

"I'm scared... I don't want these people coming after me... I have kids... I don't need this shit..."

BUT... it's somebody's life. Someone is dead. And he left 4 children behind. OHMYGOD. If they don't.... uhhhhh.... if they can't find out who did it, you HAVE to say something.... this is...

"I don't want to get into this... I don't want anything to do with this... I didn't want to know this..."

But it's MURDER. It's cold blooded murder. How many other people did she tell?

"I don't know... I don't know... but, she said the word was out on the street... the guy's glasses fell off at the scene..."

Is he there with her?

"No... she hasn't seen him since it happened... he's been gone... the detectives went to her house already and she told them she didn't know anything..."

I can't believe this shit. This is crazy. You need to get out of that neighborhood sister. I'm worried.

"I know... but, I've gotta go..."

Me too.
>>> end of conversation <<<

HOLY SHIT!!!!! This had my head reeling on the drive into work. Something has to be done to get these punks. I can't believe it. YES I can. Oh, yes I can.

I had heard about Melissa but I met her this summer over at my sister's one day at lunch. She was emancipated from her parent due to attitude and trouble she got into as a juvenile. She's only 17 and she's living on her own with assistance from the State. Sis and I were sitting on the front porch when she walked up to us from across the street. You could tell she was troubled, but... she came off with some fairly good social manners when I met her, despite looking a teensy bit on the scruffy side. It appeared as though she has just woke up or something. One of the first things she said to me after my sister introduced me was, "Oh, I've heard a lot about you..." < it's all lies I'm sure, I joked as I smiled at her and said hello > "no, your sister speaks highly of you..."

So... as you can see, my first impression of this girl was that she obviously had some problems but that MAYBE they were in her past and she was on her way out of that hole. I try to give people the benefit of the doubt.

While we are all standing around, I noticed a nasty scar on her arm and asked her how she got it. "I got knifed by some Puerto Rican girl..." Wow. So what happened to her? "Oh, she was in a coma for a couple of weeks I think..." she said it calmly without flinching. I laughed a little nervously, said my goodbyes and departed back the office shaking my head half the way. I didn't know if she was kidding, but... despite her rather frail appearance, Melissa had clearly been around the block. A few times.

As time went by, sis was telling me about things that were going on over at Melissa's place. There would be parties and large gatherings of loud, young men hanging out there nearly all of the time at night. The guy that was living with her must have been selling drugs. That's the only way the traffic coming and going could be accounted for.

The only thing I said to my Sister then was that she didn't need that girl hanging at her house. Her response was that she, "felt sorry for her," and that she never went there, Melissa would come over when Sis was outside. I understand the empathy she had for her. I've been in similar situations before. But... it didn't appear that this girl was going in a good direction from the observations Sis had. I told her, "that girl is trouble..." and all she said was, "what can I do? I'm not pursuing her... and I don't want to be mean to her either... I can't be..."

OK. I understood where she stood.
I probably would have reacted much in the same way. I've known people like Melissa. But, I also know that they have to want to change... it's not something they can get from someone else. All the empathy in the world isn't going to make a difference if they don't want to switch the path they are on. So what if you have a sob story a mile long... so what if you can turn on the tears at the drop of a hat... yet, there was a time in my life when that would have had the same effect on me. I would have felt like taking her under my wing. Protecting her even. BUT... I know now that sob stories are a dime a dozen. Sooner or later you have to quit feeling sorry for yourself and wake up. Take responsibility for your own actions. Quit blaming your past for your now and for your future. Maybe people did hurt you... and, I'm sorry for that... but, you have to find a way to overcome what others have done. Now what can YOU do? What can you do to stop being a victim of yourself? Are you not a survivor?

By the time I pulled into the parking area at work, I had all of these thoughts and more. I still couldn't believe it. I don't want anything bad to happen to my family. I want to be able to live without worrying who I will lose next. I'm so tired of all of this. Why can't things just be regular for a while?

WHY?
I arrived stressed. This is all so out of control... and out of MY control.

About an hour after my arrival, I get a phone call. It was my sis.

What's going on?

"They are there..."

Who?

"Across the street. A van like a white UPS truck... a bunch of them... guys all dressed in dark clothes... and they are all in the apartment... they have the windows wide open and I can see one of them dusting for prints..."

Well... I hope they don't think it was you... I hope she doesn't think it was you...

"Me either. It wasn't me..."

I know. But... at least they are there. At least they are on to what went down. Do you see her?

"No. I haven't seen her. But, she must have been in there. She doesn't have a car."

Uh... well, I hope she gets the hell out of there soon and I hope you get out of that damn neighborhood soon... maybe they'll lock her up...

"Yeah... I dunno... but I don't want any more shit going on around here..."

I'm so tired of worrying... I'm so tired of feeling like something could happen...

"Yeah, this really sucks. But... I'll talk to ya later."

OK Sis. If anything else happens, let me know.

"I will..."

>>> end of conversation <<<

So far... it's 6:30 p.m. - haven't heard a peep. I suppose, no news is good news.

EXCEPT that I hope I hear they have these guys in custody on the news.

That news would be good news.

---

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