It's My Blog & I Can Cry If I Want To

Last night around 3:15am I awoke to a crash and the sound of shattering glass, loud voices and the thud of a body being thrown against my exterior wall.  I laid there for a moment listening thinking maybe I was just having a nightmare.  But I was definitely awake and the noises persisted.  Domestic Violence issue?  I reached for my cell phone and dialed the 9 and the 1 then stopped.  I listened some more.  Well... maybe not.  Maybe I'm jumping to conclusions.  Should I get up and investigate?  Offer help?  I'm all alone and what if I find myself in a scary situation?  But on the other  hand I don't want to call the police, have them come out here for nothing.  I'd look like a loser.  An overreacting loser.  I'd better investigate.  I found my robe and armed myself with my keys and cell phone.  I kept the 9 and the 1 dialed.  I slowly opened my door and walked in the direction of the clatter.  

I smelt her before I saw her.  She must have bathed in the alcohol before she drank it.  She could barely stand and in the few moments we shared space together before she knew I was there I witnessed her run into my exterior wall twice because she couldn't stand upright any more without support.  In her hands were pieces of what used to be a stack of picture frames.  The rest of the metal and glass were scattered in a million shards on the floor.

"Um, excuse me?"

I watched the older woman turn and try to focus her blood shot eyes on me.  "What?!"

"I... uh... I was just wondering if you were okay.  I heard a crash and some loud voices.  Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She turned a few wobbly circles, put down the frame shards she was holding and then picked them up again.  "I'm just moving out.  Gotta move out, you know."

"That's good that you're okay.  Is everybody fine?  Is everybody you live with okay?  It sounded like somebody got hurt."

"No, nobody got hurt.  But somebody's gonna get hurt on this glass here."

"Yes, I see that.  Do you need a broom maybe?"

"For what?"  She looked down at her hands and the floor seemingly surprised to see the broken glass.  "Yeah... I do."

"Do you have one?  You're welcome to borrow mine."

"No, I don't need it.  Just need to sweep this up so nobody gets cut."

"OK.  So you have a broom?"

"What?  Pick up some of that glass there and hand it to me."

I did as I was told.  I wasn't wearing shoes and I felt a piece of glass enter the bottom of my foot and I remembered that it was almost 3:30am and I was talking to a crazy drunk lady outside my condo.

"Sure you don't want a broom?"

"Of course I do!"

"OK.  Do you want to borrow mine?"

"If you've got it."

I went into my condo and retrieved a broom and dust pan.  "Here you go.  Do you want a garbage bag as well?"

"No... just gonna sweep this up."

"Right... but do you want a garbage bag to put it in?"

She looked in my direction, her gaze still unsteady.  "No!  I'm just gonna sweep it up!"

"OK.  Need any other help?"

"Nope, just moving out."

"Um... did you realize that it's 3:30am?  The crash woke me up and I..."

She swung around almost losing her balance and finally looked me right in the eye.  "You have dogs!!"

"Yes, I understand this.  I'm not accusing you of breaking rules.  I'm not calling the cops or anything here."  I put my phone in my pocket.  "I was just hoping that you could be a little quieter.  I have to be up in a few hours for work and..."

"I know about your dogs!"

"Yes... I know.  You sound defensive and I'm not trying to make you upset.  I just wanted to be sure you were all safe because it sounded like an emergency.  When there's noise like this in the middle of the night people assume the worst."

"We're fine!"  And with that she did the drunken shuffle until she was out of sight.

I went back to bed and tried to ignore the rest of the her "moving" but couldn't quite get back to sleep.  It was my second night in a row with less than three hours' sleep.  I can't go on like this.

I tossed and turned like I have for several nights now.  I was thinking about the crazy drunken lady and whether, since I was up anyhow, I should help her move.  And I was thinking about earlier that day when we got the good news.

My dad passed his final endurance test and his heart is officially strong enough to withstand the surgery that can potentially remove the entire tumor and save his life.  We went to Applebee's to celebrate and my dad had a terrible episode.  

He couldn't breathe and then he could and then he thought he would throw up and then he did and then he left to walk outside and we all contemplated calling 911 as we continued to watch his struggle through the glass.  I cleaned up his space and wondered what they could possibly do for him that his three teams of doctors had not yet thought of.  My mom finally got up and said she was taking him home.  She asked who she should call if he got worse and my sister and I both said, "9-1-1" at the same time.  She looked flustered as she left the restaurant and retrieved my dad.  

My sister grabbed the bill, I finished cleaning up his mess then went to the restroom where I immediately began to cry.  I chastised myself for being weak, dried my eyes so my sister and David wouldn't know I had let some tears fall and walked back out there.  I said my goodbyes, flew my nephew around the parking lot, buckled him into his car seat and kissed his cheeks before walking to my own car across the lot.

I got in my car, plugged in my iPod but didn't turn it on.  I reached for my phone and started on a few different numbers before I put it back in my purse without hitting send.  What could anyone say?  "Sorry you had a rough night?"  "It's going to be okay?"

I cried alone and became angry with myself for doubting, for being worried.  He'll get through chemo.  He'll have the surgery.  They'll get it all.  He'll be okay.  

So go to sleep...

6th Grade

Today during lunch recess I went outside as I have for the last week or so because the weather is all beautiful and sunny and warm.  And because I like to tease Fran and Tracy.  One of the little girls hanging on Tracy looked up at me and said, "What class are you in?"  I didn't understand her.  I thought maybe she was wondering what classroom I taught in?  So I asked, "What do you mean?"  She got all wide-eyed and said to Tracy in a whisper, "Oops!  I thought she was a 6th grader!"

Later today during afternoon recess I was outside again because the weather is all beautiful and sunny and warm.   And because I like to tease Fran and Tracy.  I had my cell phone out and one of the little girls hanging on Fran tattled on me, "Oooooh!  She has a cell phone!"  Fran told her that I was off duty so I was allowed to.  She said, "Oh!  She's a teacher?  I thought she was a 6th grader!" 

Seriously?  It's June!

Good News

Our family got some good news today.  It seems as though my dad may be a candidate for surgery after all.  

Just two weeks ago we found out my dad has cancer.  The news came out of nowhere.  He had been having trouble swallowing so he went in for an endoscopy.  The doctor found the cause of the problem, a large tumor right where the esophagus meets the stomach.  They ran a biopsy on the tumor and the next day we learned it was cancerous.  Without treatment we were looking at six months.  Thank goodness it's 2009 and treatment, although not glorious, is available.

Because my dad had that awesome near-death heart attack a few years back the doctors were initially thinking he would not be a good candidate for option A which would be surgically removing the tumor as well as part of his esophagus and reconstructing that part of the stomach.  This would remove the cancer pretty much completely and would subject him to minimal radiation and chemotherapy.  But my dad's heart is weak, he has the pace maker and he's on daily blood thinners that keeps his heart from... you know... stopping.  Blood thinners equals bad when you're facing a scalpel. 

So we were heading for option B which includes extensive radiation, chemotherapy and hope that it shrinks the tumor and keeps it from spreading.

But after what seems like a hundred additional tests and numerous appointments with doctors, it seems like surgery might work out after all.  His heart is stronger than they thought and a risk of a clot is not as significant a risk as feared.  He still has several appointments and maybe one more test to endure before surgery can be scheduled.  And surgery is no picnic either.  It would be a seven hour surgery with at least ten days in the hospital.  But the doctors are very hopeful of a full recovery afterwards.  

And although I have been doing my best to be optimistic all along and to have faith that my dad would be around to watch his grandson play little league and watch me become more than I am now, I was scared.  Really, really scared.  And... I still am.  We have a long road ahead of us.  But... I get to enjoy a new brand of hope now.  And it tastes really good.

Thanks for your prayers.  They have provided me with strength I know I wouldn't have had otherwise.  Please keep them coming our way.

AirTran Nightmare

My mom and I went to see my baby brother graduate on Saturday.  It was beautiful and my chest swelled with pride as he walked up to the stage to receive his degree which he earned with high honors.  I was so glad I was able to be there... in Rochester, NY... to see the moment live.  Especially since I paid for it with the last strand of dignity I had left.

Our flight was set to take off at 11:30 PM (PST) on Thursday.  This would take us to Baltimore where we would have a 5 hour delay before our connecting flight to Rochester.  We would land at 2:15 PM (EST) which would leave us plenty of time to get to our hotel, hang with Wayne and get plenty of sleep before his graduation at 8AM the next day.  

We got to the airport early.  By 8:30 we were checked in, through security and at the gate.  At 9:30PM they announced that our flight was canceled due to an "insufficient crew."  I walked up to the counter to ask questions.  I was the third person in line.  They were going to postpone the flight to 7:30AM and transfer all tickets for that flight.  This solved the problem for the 90% of the passengers that were flying just to Baltimore.  But it didn't solve the problem for me.  11:30PM - 7:30AM is more than a 5 hour difference.  We would miss our connecting flight.

Apparently neither of the only two people AirTran sent up to the gate knew how to solve my problem.  Oh, they tried.  They tried really hard.  For almost two hours... in between other customers.  They helped me intermittently between the easier-to-help passengers.  When they finally told me they couldn't help me there and to go down to the check-in desk on the other side of security there were only 6 passengers left.  I went to grab my original boarding passes but the girl, the supervisor, said to leave them there.  She would be down shortly to help me at the other desk... as soon as she helped the rest of the passengers.  I hauled my mother and I down the two sets of escalators, onto the stupid tram thing and back to where we had started over four hours ago.  I waited there for 30 minutes.  The supervisor hadn't shown yet.  The other passengers who also had to go down there to receive their hotel vouchers were all but gone.  I approached the counter thinking somebody else could start working on this problem.  

A girl worked on it for about three minutes before she called another supervisor who wanted to know where my boarding passes were.  He couldn't help me without the boarding passes.  "Can't you just look me up in the computer?  The girl upstairs said to leave them there."  The problem was that he couldn't find me in the computer (a persistent problem).  I suggested he use the walkie talkie attached to his vest for good.  So he jabbered a lot on his walkie talkie to the girl upstairs at the gate and began to sweat.  He told me since it was Memorial Day weekend that all connecting flights to Rochester were booked... actually oversold.  Could we go Saturday and be there by Saturday night?  No, we'd miss everything.  He graduates in the morning.  He sighed.  He thought that maybe he could help.  Maybe.  But he couldn't do anything that night because "Ticketing" was closed and wouldn't reopen until 5AM.  It was almost 1AM so I asked for a hotel voucher and said we'd be back at 5AM.  He said they were all out and walked away.  So, while I was standing at counters for four plus hours not getting help, everybody else walked away with vouchers for a free bed to sleep in.  Awesome.  

My mom and I found a patch of crappy carpet and set up camp for the night.  It was horribly uncomfortable and I "slept" for maybe an hour combined between blinks.  At a quarter to 5, my mom and I went back to the counter where I gave the completely new crew my name and a brief description of the issue at hand.  The guy at the counter said the problem had been fixed and handed me my tickets.  I looked at them.  There was a flight to Baltimore leaving at 7:30 as planned and a flight to Rochester.  Yippee!!

My mom and I went through security again and made the trek to our gate.  By 5:30AM we were sitting at our gate waiting for our 7:30 departure.  Which was now an 8AM departure for unknown reasons.  The guy that had helped us last night was there and he came up to us and asked if we had received our tickets.  I said we had (obviously because we were at the gate and not crying) and thanked him.  Prefusely.  Because we were going to make it in time after all.  He smiled and walked away.

I looked at our tickets again, so pleased we had them at all, when I noticed a problem.  Our first leg landed in Baltimore over an hour after our second leg took off.  I looked around.  Not an AirTran worker in sight.  I ran around the gates and finally found somebody.  He looked at them, shrugged, and went into a bag cubby to investigate.   He came out 30 minutes later and pretty much just said, "I don't know.  All flights to Rochester are oversold."  He found another worker who looked about 16 to get on the case.  There was another flight leaving to Atlanta whose customers took priority.  The guy told the girl not to help me until everybody else was taken care of because my problem would take a while and the others' were easy to fix.  By 7:30 when I still hadn't been helped I demanded to see Rudy... the guy that had "fixed" them earlier and came to receive his compliment this morning.  He didn't come.  I saw him on the other side of the terminal talking to other workers.  I pointed at him and did the teacher finger that means, "Get over here right now!"  He Charlie Brown walked over to me.  The plane to Baltimore was boarding.  My flight would be leaving soon.  I demanded that he figure this out immediately because I was going to miss it.  I was going to miss my brother's graduation even after I spent an entire evening standing at AirTran desks not getting helped and sleeping on an airport floor... with my mom!

He suggested I just get on the plane to Baltimore and see what they could do for me there.  I was already on the standby list for that flight.  It was over sold by one and my mom and I were number 3 and 4 on the standby list but sure... maybe 5 people would decide not to use their tickets to Rochester that day.  I told him that there was no way in Hell I was going to fly my mother and myself across the country to Baltimore just to see if maybe five people would randomly ditch their airplane tickets.  I had endured enough and, up to this point, had never raised my voice or become emotional.  He looked at the gate that they were about to close and said, "Get on the plane!  I promise you that I'll call Baltimore... I'll make them get you on that plane!!"  And I did.  I grabbed the luggage, yelled at my mother to follow and we got on the plane.

Our flight to Baltimore landed late and it took longer to unload because the ramp guy couldn't get it lined up right... maybe it was his first day... I dunno.  This left us with 40 minutes before our connecting flight, which we didn't have boarding passes for, was set to take off.  My mom and I ran to the gate and... stood in line.  There was one person manning the counter.  He was arguing with some woman about a seat assignment for a flight that was to leave in four hours.  The time ticked away.  My mom went to the people collecting boarding passes and explained what we needed.  They said to talk to the guy at the counter.  We waited some more.  When the last call had been declared I finally yelled, "That's my flight!  That's my plane and Rudy from Seattle promised us we'd get on it!  It's about to leave and I'm not on it yet!"  The man said not 

to worry and turned to help the woman again... the one that had four hours.  I told him no.  That I was panicking.  He stopped, apologized to the woman who was more irate about a window seat than I was about being ignored for 35 minutes and printed me two boarding passes.  I thanked him and got on the plane.

We made it.  But I was dead inside.  In 72 hours I had slept for a total of 4 hours and had had exactly 2 meals.  I had rescued my mother from security during our first trip through because they had dropped her hearing aides and she started to meltdown.  But we made it.  

We had dinner with Wayne and his friend, took a tour of his boy-smelling apartment and his awesome looking campus and then went to our hotel.  It was almost midnight by then and I got a full five hours of sleep before I had to wake up at 4:30 AM (PST) to attend Wayne's graduation.  The graduation that was beautiful and so worth the torture that led up to it.  Because look at him! 

Kid You Not

No kidding.  Ichiro Suzuki, Ken Griffey Jr and Mike Sweeney among others came to MCMES Elementary today.

One of our tutors sent a letter to the Mariners months ago and they agreed to set up an assembly.  We all assumed they'd send the Mariner Moose, the team mascot, or maybe a random player and we were excited about that.  But... wow!!  These guys?!?!  Awesome!!!

This Week in Pictures

I volunteered at our school's Beach Party.  

It was great to be able to just play with the kids without having to be all teachery.

My baby Yaris hit 20,000 miles.

I drove down to Lakewood to have dinner with some past coworkers.  

I had a great time catching up!

I took advantage of another opportunity to see B swim.  Besides my sister and I, my parents came along and so did my Aunt Wanda.  B was in good form that day... obviously.

OK.  Just one more video clip of B for good measure.

Snooze

My nephew seems to be going through some type of incredible growth spurt.  Within one week he went from sitting and cooing to crawling and making human sounds assisted by two brand new teeth.  But I think I'm going through a growth spurt too.  Or something.  I have found myself doing some things that just a few weeks ago was totally out of character for me.  I went to  a huge singles activity even though I didn't know a soul and stayed much longer than even I thought I could last.  I got excited over my recent (boring) purchases that included a vacuum cleaner and interior doors.  I didn't freak out over spending the money on those items either when just a few weeks ago anything over $20 sparked a long internal personal debate.  I told somebody no.  I took a mental health day and don't feel guilty about it.  And... I hit the snooze button now.  I never could before because before I go to bed each night I make a mental list of all the things I need to get done before I walk out the door for work and then I calculate approximately how long it will take me to get those things done and take that number from the last second I could leave the house without being late for work.  I give myself no buffer time.  This forces me to jump out of bed and start running as soon as the alarm blares.  But even though my bedtime tradition hasn't changed I have found the ability to snooze anyway.  I just run faster once it goes off for the second (or third) time.  And I haven't been late for work.  Yet.  Except now that I've taken the time to write this blog... I might be late.  Gotta run!!

Swimming B

Brayden is in "swimming lessons" at our local pool.  He's in the toddler class for kids 6 months to 3 years old.  He totally loves it!  It's not like he's actually learning to swim or anything... he's 8 months old.  But they throw water in his face and dunk him which doesn't faze him a bit.  They get him used to the feeling of floating on his back and teach him to kick as he's propelled through the water.  He laughs and splashes and doesn't want to get out.  I went to watch him on Tuesday.  David's a swimmer and it was cool to see father and son doing something they love together even at such a young age.  Just wait until he's old enough to start playing catch... :)

Snaily

This little guy has been hanging around my condo for over a week now.  I've grown accustomed to his shell.  Here's the thing about snails.  They're kind of cute in a completely disgusting kind of way.  But of all the garden pests, the snail is my favorite.  Their cousin, the slug, is intolerably gross.  I get that all the parts are pretty much the same besides the fact that the snail carries his own house.  In any case, Snaily has been in the little garden space in front of my bedroom window.  And I'm okay with him staying.  But cute-ish or not I'd rather he'd go.  Because I'm pretty sure he's the one eating holes in the flowers.  Also, I almost stepped on him today and that would have been icky.

From Flakes to Fantastic

Last night I had a dream that all my skin was shedding off as if after a moderate sunburn (but without the pain of a sunburn).  It was just flaking away.  After the initial shock and slight panic, I started to help it along and discovered that underneath was new, beautiful, soft, preteen-before-the-acne skin that almost glowed.  So I worked harder.  And before the dream was over I was looking good!

This dream could mean one of two things:

1.  Something very good is coming up just around the corner

2.  I really need to think about applying sunscreen every day  

Lactose Intolerant

Work

I really wish I could write about work on this thing because I think you may all find me a lot more interesting.  But probably not.

Happy

Everything has been crappy lately.  So I'm trying really hard to find things that are good.  Here are a few things that have made me happy this week.  

One of them is this.  There's just something about watching a woman's dream come true paired with shocking a large number of doubters that makes my chest swell with feelings of triumph. 

Another happy is this.  Mariner baseball.  But not just any Mariner baseball.  Good Mariner baseball!  I'm going to the game tomorrow night.  I'm hoping to see some Griffey magic and a win.  But if not... just the ballpark hotdog in a ballpark will be worth the ticket price! 

Also, no matter how crappy my day is my puppies love me.  When I come home they're so happy to see me that they jump up and down, run circles around me and give me puppy kisses.  It's hard to be sad when there are two dogs that happy that you're alive and came back for them.

I am convinced that Spring has finally arrived.  The tree outside my balcony that has looked like a giant dead twig the entire time I have lived here suddenly burst into pink.  The sun came out again this afternoon.

I think I'm going to be okay.  :)

Easter 2009

This is my new favorite picture of B for obvious reasons.  I feel that my sister owes me a great deal for capturing this moment.  

Easter went better than expected.  Although I don't really know what I was expecting.  These people are hard to read.  

We had brunch at my sister's before we let B chew on his Easter basket which, quite frankly, was pretty fun to watch.

I went to church and experienced the most... unique?... Easter program yet.  To keep myself from deep sighing I did some journaling and scripture reading.  It was for the best.  

I went to my parents' house for dinner which consisted of a small bowl of plain spaghetti.  After which I helped them figure out how to post and print pictures of B.  Now that everybody's life seems to be centered around buying B presents, spending time with B, documenting B's life, talking about B and making B happy... the old family dramas have kind of melted away.  I'm glad about this.  Obviously.  But are they really gone or are they just lying dormant?  I can't decide if I should be running through the meadow while the credits roll or if I should be running for cover.  Either way there's going to be running.  If the weather's good I'll run forever.  It rained in a downpour all day today.

What's a girl gotta do to get a Coke in this town?

Today I had to go to the district office during my lunch break to turn in some important paperwork.  I understood that I would be going without lunch.  But, you know what?  That was going to be okay as long as I could grab a Diet Coke before I had to be in front of a group of 6th graders at 1pm.  A Diet Coke would see me through.  So I stopped at the Shell station.  I looked around and around but I didn't see a soda fountain.  I asked the lady where it was and she said they didn't have one.  Seriously.  No soda fountain.  At a gas station.  

So I ran back out to my car and drove to the Mini Mart that I could see from the Shell station.  I ran in, looked around and saw only porno magazines and videos and a small fridge of bottled beverages.  I understood right away that they weren't selling what I needed and jumped back in my car feeling a bit defeated and entirely violated.  Since when did "Mini Mart" mean "Nasty Naked Times" anyway?  I shook it off.  I was on a mission.  No time to analyze what just happened in there.  

I could see a 76.  Certainly they would have what I needed minus the gross.  I parked in a no parking zone (leave me alone... I was running out of time!) and ran inside.  I looked and looked.  I was not seeing the soda fountain that had to be there!  The lady was chatting with a friend.  I waited politely.  But only for about 5 seconds before I said, "Where's the soda fountain?  I need a Diet Coke!  Quick!"  She said they didn't have one.  I said, "What do you mean you don't have one?  Seriously?!  You're a gas station!  What gas station doesn't have a soda fountain?  Apparently every station and mini mart on this street is conspiring against soda drinkers!  Where can I get a Diet Coke?  Where?  Where??  Where?!?!"  Once she got over the initial shock of an adult throwing a tantrum over a soda, she pointed across the street at a purple building and said there was a place called Andy's across the street from there... that I couldn't miss it.  

I ran to my car and made my way to Andy's.  I love Andy's.  Sure, they had three cup sizes and only two lid sizes and the size I wanted was sold out which forced me into buying a cup of soda larger than my head but you know what?  I was okay with that.  Andy's my new best friend.

Once I had my soda and was back in my car cradling the giant cup between my legs (there seriously isn't a cup holder big enough for this thing) I looked at the clock.  12:50.  I turned on my GPS and started making my way back to work. 

I'm the only person I know stupid enough to get lost while using a GPS.  OK, I'm the only person I know stupid enough to get lost using a GPS in a town she's been working in for eight months.  Despite missing my exit and having to backtrack twice, I still made it back by 12:59.  Ah... the power of the Diet Coke.

Turbulence

My flight from SLC to SEA was pure carnage.  There were at least two dozen children on that flight under the age of 2.  Almost all of them were at the back of the plane where I also happened to be located, seated next to a 7th grade girl very excited about life.  She was delightful and full of questions about how airplanes work which I just happened to know the answers to which made me feel like a scientific genius.  Which is awesome.  Because I'm not.  I'm really, really not.  But I did know why the flaps on the wings go up and down, what that whirring sound was, how the de-icer crap works, why we get turbulence and how it affects (effects??) cabin pressure, the inner ear (especially the inner ears of the two dozen now screaming children under the age of 2) and the stomachs of at least two of our fellow passengers.  I know things.

I also appreciated the fact that she was much smarter than the guy I encountered several years ago on the same trek from SLC to SEA.  He was tall, thin, smelled of marijuana and wore army fatigues and an unkept beard.  He laughed and asked similar questions that my little friend asked today.  One of them was, "Do you ever... like... wonder about what... like... stuff like clouds are made of?"  Actually... clouds are evaporated water.  "Hu hu-hu.  Hu... wow... wouldn't it be awesome if that were true??"  It is true.  Water evaporates into the air and collects together in a gaseous state that we see as a cloud.  Then when it becomes dense enough it falls again as water which we call rain.  "Hu hu... Hu!  Woah!!  That would be awesome!"  I was going to explain it better but I realized this last comment wasn't directed towards me.  It was directed towards his top button.  

Sigh.

My first instinct is to call this woman stupid and laugh.  OK.  I did call this woman stupid and laugh.  But I shouldn't have.  Because I have no room to talk.  Remember this?

WEDNESDAY, MAY 26, 2004

Dude, Where's My Car?

Sunday Afternoon

Villa Parking Lot

Chris, Ann-Marie and I walk out to the parking lot to attend the Deaf Ward. I lead the group to the spot where I always park my car. Except... it's not there. "What the crap? Where's my car?"

Thinking that maybe I'm just an idiot and parked my car some place else in the lot, we started wandering around looking for it. But it wasn't there. I thought that maybe somebody was just playing a prank on me and moved it. I mean, I did steal Ramos' car last year. A couple times. And moved it to make him crazy. I had it coming. So we looked around the entire Villa parking lot. No car. Ann-Marie and Chris went to my place to listen to Kat laugh about it. I went to Provo High School and the Seminary building with Lisa to see if it was over there. It wasn't.

By now, an hour has passed and there's still zero sign of my car. And I don't know anybody who would play a prank like that any more. I mean, I only know my parents. And so I came back to the apartment. A small crowd had gathered there because somebody losing a car is entertaining and new. Who loses a car? It's not like I lost the keys. I lost the whole freaking car! What's left to do? It's been an hour. I can't find it. I guess it's stolen. I don't know who in their right mind would steal my car but it's the only other thing I can think of. So, I called the police.

And they hung up on me.

So I called back.

And I reported it missing.

"I'll send an officer over."

"Okay," I said.

And I waited. The people talked and laughed about funny mission stories. I laid on the big yellow ball of happiness, sprawled over it on my back. And I just thought as I waited for the officer to arrive.

I thought about my checkbook balance. And about how I needed to repaint my toenails. And about how much I disliked police officers. And about how the school year was almost over. And about how I should probably visit my family at some point. And about how lame yesterday was because I had to be at work on a Saturday at 7am...

I shot up! I gasped! "It's at WORK!!!" I yelled. "It's at work because I had to be there at 7:30am and then I carpooled up to Salt Lake for that convention thingy but I got out an hour early and so YOU drove me home!" I pointed accusingly at Kat. The room was silent only for a split second before the laughter and mocking started. Yes, I am an idiot. I didn't forget that I parked my car a few slots away than usual... but a few blocks away from usual.

And so I called the police back.

"Hi, I'm Emily Hansen and I just reported my car stolen. But I just had an epiphany and... it's not."

"Okay, we'll cancel the call."

"Thanks."

And that was it. 

SLC

I'm in Salt Lake City this week and my heart is happy.  I hate the snow and I'm not a big fan of the whole desert but... man!... I love these people!!

Shower

Tear Free

I need to cry.  I have that tight feeling in my chest matched with the mild but ever-present headache residing at the nape of the neck and mid-forehead as well as the burning eyes and tight throat.  It's like when you need to sneeze and even though you don't really want to sneeze, it's way better than holding it in and it's kind of upsetting if it never comes because... man... you needed that release.  Just like that dumb volcano in Alaska that everybody's been freaking out about because it's going to blow at any moment and then it didn't for weeks and weeks.  Then finally it gave a few puffs over a few days and that was it.  How disappointing.  And I'm disappointed.  Because all of the signs are there but I just can't cry.  No release.  I have reasons to cry.  I'm upset about them.  I'm sad about them.  I'm kind of mad about them.  But there's no release.  Maybe I put it off for too long.  No time to cry now, much too busy!  I can't cry yet, the trial's not even over yet.  I can't cry now, people will know.  And now after all that waiting, I can't cry at all.  I put on my sad songs, took in the crap, processed the garbage and feel I understand my predicament.  It's not awesome.  But even with that... no tears.  And now that I've typed this... I'm kind of over it.  Kind of.

P.S.  I just got a call that I have to pick up my mom.  Nope... still nothin'.  :)