"Did you see the chest rise?"

and then...someone's grandfahter stops breathing and you try your hardest to explain CPR to them and save someone's life but it doesn't work. This job is crushing my soul. It's one extreme to the next. Few and far between can do this job successfully and I think my ticket might be up. You only have so much energy and strength and drive to fight the uphill battle for so long. I'm tired. I'm just tired and worn out.

Rant!

I hate people. I hate them, I hate them, I hate them. I am a public servant which in turn for some people means that I am their doormat. Well, I've been a doormat for years not and I am done with it. I've been called a bitch first thing at the beginning of my 7am shift because someone thought that an ambulance wasn't driving fast enough. I've been threatened on more occasions than I can remember and on a regular baiss told that I have to do whatever some random public person at large decides they want done because they "pay my salary". Well, you know, I pay my salary too. I've lived in this town for my entire life. I pay local taxes, state taxes, and property taxes, which almost means that I nearly work for free sometimes. I hate this town. I hate the high and mighty people who live in this town that think they are the be and and end all of small town living. Look around people! This is a town with a major state prison, along the I80 corridor, within less than an hour's drive from Oakland. This is not Mayberry. Yes it did happen to you, yes you did actually do something to bring it on yourself, and yes, leave. Go, get out, and don't look back if you don't like the way that business is done around her. I want to give this city and these citizen's the biggest middle finger that I can find. I want to build a giant one out of foam and put it on top of my house. But, alas...if I do that, if I choose to so express my freedom if speech, there will be some cartoon character councilwoman publically ranting about how things like this don't happen in her pristine town. I work with men and women who have good pay and good benefits for working with the lowest of the low and the most soul-leaching people and demands that someone can deal with on a regular basis, and what do we get? Shit. We get shit for wanting to have a decent life outside of that with medical benefits that won't carry most of us into long life like those people who work in the private sector. I could go on and on, and really all this rant hasn't done much for me or my current stress level, but I feel the need to publically make it known to all those public persons out there who feel that they can abuse the system and make demands on "their dime" that you don't count for anything other than being a leech on this society. Karma is a big, nasty, ugly bitch with a rockin' sense of humor and you can only burn her so many times before you alter your fate.

I'm over this. Bankruptcy and the life of a vagabond traveller is calling my name. I hate my job, I hate this town, I hate these people...

Quote for the day

"If you have lost your joy, start looking! It's in there, perhaps buried deep insdie, but definitely worth finding again. Pay attention to what you love and put your focus there."

~ Permission to Dream

Good quote. I'm keeping this one.

A woman should have...

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
enough money within her control to move out
and rent a place of her own,
even if she never wants to or needs to...

I wish, I want, I should...this kind of freedom would mean the world to me some days.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
something perfect to wear if the employer,
or date of her dreams wants to see her in an hour...

I've managed to collect some pretty versatile things over the last few years. I'm more in touch with my feminine side and I'm really starting to understand my own little touches of flair (for lack of a better word).

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
a youth she's content to leave behind...


I'm not going far from this yet, but I do feel the need to be more reckless. Life passes by real quick. I'm gonna be 28 this year. When the the hell did that happen?! I remember thinking that when I was 17, that would be so cool, and then when I was 21, that would be the beginning of so much, and then when I was 25...well, little less thinking, lot more doing. I think these things when I'm running at the gym staring out into traffic.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
a past juicy enough that she's looking forward to
retelling it in her old age....

See above. I already retell my stories and get great laughs now. Life is too shy to be bashful and embarassed. People can relate. Really, they can and the best remedy is laughter. Always.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE .....
a set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra...

Check, check, and check

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
one friend who always makes her laugh... and one who lets her cry...


I have amazing friends. My real, true friends I can count on for anything. I'm grasping onto the idea that my diversity of friends is my wealth and that they all serve a great and different purpose in my life.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ....
a good piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in her family...

I have a furniture mecca. Buying furniture makes me feel like an adult. I did get the pub table all on my own and that's a pretty cool belonging.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ...
eight matching plates, wine glasses with stems,
and a recipe for a meal,
that will make her guests feel honored...

My mother is a great cook. I've learned from her and cooking is one of my favorite activities. When I retire, I want to just have big dinners with good friends, great music, and the best food. I want to have one of those houses that always has the door open. Marlena said that once. That she wished she had a house like mine where the door was always open. It made me think about my house and its availability in a different light. Not as a burden, but as an open door.

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE ..
a feeling of control over her destiny...

I do and I don't. I believe that Someone has control over my destiny, but I still feel independent enough to throw caution to the wind now and then and say F@#& it! You only live once. I like how my MakeupGeek has taken control of her destiny. Those are the stories that I love to watch unfold. I'll unfold more of mine in the years to come...

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to fall in love without losing herself..

I'm horrible at this. Absolutley horrible. I fall and I fall to pieces; but it's in the picking myself up that I learn about myself. I've picked myself up over and over again and I've made promises to myself that I've broken, but I think I've learned for the next time. I always try to remember that love is risky and I would rather be broken now and then and find my strength to rebuild than never take the risk at all. I fear that I'll be a person who looks back on my life and doesn't see where I took any chances.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to quit a job,
break up with a lover,
and confront a friend without;
ruining the friendship...

No, no, no, and no. As much as I think I'm afraid of committment, I have a hard letting go of what I know. I've had the same type of job since I was 16, I'm horrible at confronting friends, I've obliterated some friendships because I let it all build until I just blow, and breaking up with lovers...not proud, not clean, not easy.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW....
when to try harder... and WHEN TO WALK AWAY...
I'm learning. That's all I have on this.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that she can't change the length of her calves,
the width of her hips, or the nature of her parents...

I've been pretty confident and bold with the body that I've been given. What most people don't know is that I am always, and I mean nearly every minute of every day, aware of all of my flaws. I dream about the body that I want to have and I feel like it will never be within my reach. I don't breath insecurities like some women do, but I don't often feel pretty or feminine. I have some pretty negative thoughts on my worthiness when it comes to relationships. I think that I am my own worst enemy.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
that her childhood may not have been perfect...but it's over...

Amen.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
what she would and wouldn't do for love or more...

I know, but I still make mistakes. Love hurts.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
how to live alone... even if she doesn't like it...

Haven't had the opportunity but I know that I would be a chicken about it.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW.. .
whom she can trust,
whom she can't,
and why she shouldn't take it personally...

Learning the difference between these people is exhausting and painful. It's an ongoing battle and my biggest dread as of late. I think that trust is the key to any relationship and finding someone you can trust no matter what feels next to impossible some days.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
where to go...
be it to her best friend's kitchen table..
or a charming Inn in the woods...
when her soul needs soothing...

I have my friends and my spots. Thankfully, there is always someone who is there to lend me a sholder or an ear. When you find those spots that sooth your soul, hang on to them with everything that you have. These are the places with the people that are going to get you through the toughest times of your life.

EVERY WOMAN SHOULD KNOW...
What she can and can't accomplish in a day...
a month...and a year...

Sometimes the things that I have accomplished and all the things that I want to accomplish are just nothing but a blur. I make lists of things that I want to get done and never manage to check everything off of one entire list. It is my goal to finish a list in a day. It is my goal to have all my "should haves" become "did thems" at some point in my life. I want to live a full life without regrets. I think that's the #1 thing that I want to check off my list.

Midflight thoughts

Heartburn has me up at 5something AM...in more ways than one. Being gone in Mexico for a week was only a small band-aid. In fact, I think it just magnified some of the other problems. There are a lot of fake people out there with no real substance or motivation in life. Weeding them out of my life is proving to be harder than I ever thought it would be.



I usually have a lot of time to think when I'm flying. I just plug in my ipod and let the music carry me to wherever my mind needs to go. I watch the clouds roll by and the landscape below dot its way across the horizon like notes on a scale. I'm always amazed at clouds - the more I look at them, the more I think they must have been one of God's greatest creations. I also love watching the sunset from the sky. It's like nothing else. You'll never be able to see the colors that are created with the sun boucing off the tops of the clouds unless you're in the sky to see where they meet. I don't like the suffocating feeling of flying, but the time it gives me to gather my thoughts is usually welcome. My mind wandered all over the place on this flight. I think it found permanent residency in some of the places that it travelled to.

I watched a Tyler Perry movie "The Family That Preys" on the flight and it settled in right next to my thoughts. I love his movies for the underlying messages that he conveys. The tagline for this movie is "Follow your heart, but watch your back."
There were a couple of questions posed throughout the film that I made note of on a personal level...
Remember when you used to dream? At what point did you stop dreaming about what you want from life?
Are you living or just existing? This was acompanied by the lyrics of the theme song:

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder,
You get your fill to eat but always keep that hunger,
May you never take one single breath for granted,
GOD forbid love ever leave you empty handed,
I hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean,
Whenever one door closes I hope one more opens,
Promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.

I hope you dance....I hope you dance.

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance,
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Livin' might mean takin' chances but they're worth takin',
Lovin' might be a mistake but it's worth makin',
Don't let some hell bent heart leave you bitter,
When you come close to sellin' out reconsider,
Give the heavens above more than just a passing glance,
And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance.
I love the lyrics from that song, but I forget to listen to them with more than just my ears sometimes. It's high time I started listening to things with my heart more often. Settling for the path of least resistance seems to be the story of my life as of late...



Despite my best efforts, flying is always an comedic adventure somehow and this one was no exception. I lost one side of my earphone cover before the flight even started, cut my toe open on my computer bag midflight somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico, broke the underwire on the right side of my bra as I was talking to my flight neighbor, and cracked the Mexican pottery that I was so careful to carry on while I had to repack the liquids prior to reboarding in Houston, Texas. As I practically crawled out of my skin from being stuck on a plane for far too long with an achey toe and the fear that I was going to be stabbed through and through by razor sharp wire, I couldn't help but imagine that all the times I've been on a plane, I had never felt so conflicted about coming home. If home is where your heart is, then I don't quite know where to hang my hat, but I do want to find out where that place is. I think I'm going to have to start down some paths of resistance while I'm still young enough to believe that I can do anything.

Right now I'm going to try and believe that I can sleep despite Insomnia's best efforts to keep my mind from drifting off into those clouds again...

Broken compass

Something is off. My internal compass is broken and I'm not sure what direction I'm headed lately. I don't even really know how to explain it other than I don't know which way is North anymore. I realize that there is a certian spiritual meaning in that last sentence.

I have everything and nothing to say in this blog. I almost feel like life as of the last few years was just one social event to the next and I know there is much more purpose to life than that. I got a random text tonight that made me want to throw the phone across the room. I swear my heartrate jumped and my blood started to boil. Why? Why would I want to go back there to that place even for a brief response to an otherwise seemingly harmless question. That chapter has had it's last sentence written. There's nothing more to say, yet, it keeps popping up.

Maybe it's not my compass that's broken; maybe I just had a switch inside me flip on, or in that case, I had another one flip off.

Sometimes I feel like I'm having an out of body experience. Like I'm looking at my life and not only do I not recognize myself sometimes, I don't like what I'm seeing in its place. I read this great article titled "The 7 Reasons You're Not the Woman You Want to Be" and related to pretty much every single topic. I get that people reinvent themselves and learn and change and grow, but there has to be a baseline to keep things grounded.

This is a partial emotional roadmap of my day:

Regret. Woke up with a feeling that I haven't had in a while. I said something over the weekend that I reallly didn't have any point in saying. I'm not even completly sure where it came from. I don't know that I regret the implication of what it resulted in as much as I regret the person it made me look like. I've had this thought on my mind a lot lately - Every is their own person. We get caught up in taking up causes for other people and I think that is where we lose some of ourselves. I'm trying (and failing usually) to find the fine line between where my moral compass rests and my social loyalties fall.

Vulnerability. I went and saw a lady about a wax. Let me tell you, there are a few moments in time that I have told myself "Self, remember this moment for what it is" This was one of them. Nothing more awkward and intrusive than a bikini wax. As I lay there in an otherwise compromising position, I actually said, "The things women do for beauty..." and just shook my head quietly to myself. I'd like to paint you a picture of hilarity and synicism of this actual scece from today, but then I realize that I haven't flagged this blog for "adult content". I guess that story is for another place and time.

Nostalgic. As I watched my sister drive off with her friend and my friend, I realized that I was missing out on a potentially great couple of days with them. I don't spend enough time with my sister and as far as my friend...she's a good one, frustrating at times, but a good person. I tend to let the frustrating part take over the good part and I loose focus. Gotta stop doing that.

Proud: I've lost 9 lbs. That's a big deal for me. I haven't managed to do that with any consistency or permanency in a long time. I have managed to put myself first in one arena, now if it would just carry over into the other ones.

Hopeful: Even with my broken compass, I can see the light shining through. I know where my loyal, true freinds are and that's all that counts. I think that the implosion of certian circles is a blessing in disguise. I have put off a lot of things and haven't prioritized some of my relationships and passions and that is what is ultimately paying the price.

In about 24 hours, I'm going to be leaving for Mexico for a week. I'm going to try and just have one thought and feeling for the week - happiness. Maybe it will help me get my compass pointing back in the right direction.

Scenes from my weekend

Cake a la Angela Stefenoni, baker extrodinare and auto mechanic. Women with amazing and diverse talents have a little piece of my heart. I admire them even when it comes in the form of diet-sabotaging bakery items. The sweet things that come out of her kitchen might as well have the tag line from Field of Dreams...If she bakes it, they will come.




I carried my camera in my purse with me all weekend (PS, it's a heavy camera!); to work on Saturday and to the Superbowl party on Sunday. It was a semi-good weekend.

Saturday: The dark cloud that looms over my head whenever I go to work is starting to lift. While I'm gaining my attitude back, I've come to realize that I've let some of my skills slip and slide through the cracks and I'm not OK with that. I heard one of the Lieutenants say something in briefing the other day and it stuck in my head.

"Do your best work and be proud of it."

Simple and to the point. I used to actually tell my trainees that but I've forgotten to abide by it myself. Through various circumstances, situations, and co-workers, I've lost my faith in what I do. Luckily, faith can be renewed. I used to say that I was a good dispatcher because I cared to be the one they knew could be counted on and I knew that I could be the best at what I do. Working on the wrong side of the week, I got lost in the sea of mediocrity and not giving a damn and slowly I abandoned my Be-The-Best-You-Can-Be Ship. It's time I threw myself my own lifesaver and quit sniveling. There's no crying in dispatch.


The latest addition to my locker wall of good tidings courtesy of Tiny Beckster. It applies to many things in my life.

In the hallway that leads to the break room, we have a virtual gallery of pictures, snapshots, quotes, and comics. I'd have to say that it's probably my favorite part of the police department. Everyonce in a while, I get a present on my locker from one of my co-workers who is still on "the ship" with me (see above). One of the best compliments I've received, was in that form, unsuspectingly taped to my locker one day.


Sunday: The other part of my weekend was just ok. I've been to a work Superbowl party for years now...I haven't missed one since we started throwing them - it's tradition. Why break tradition I say? It's usually a variant of the same crowd with the few strongholds - one of which I am - same place, same time, but this year it was altogether a different vibe. I know it was a combination of a) I wasn't shit faced drunk and b) I've developed a low bitch tolerance in recent years.

Sidenote: since this is just about the first year I haven't been shit faced drunk at one of these parties, I actually watched the game of football. Usually I'm involved in the bottom of a pint glass, drunken barrage of picture taking shenaniganery, or trying to figure out why so-and-so feels the need to be doing whatever we're calling "it" now with other so-and-so in front of all their co-workers. Back to the game - not that I don't have an appreciation for sports, but this game was really great. It made me think of what it must have been like to watch the gladiators in the Roman Times. There are some friggin' brutes barreling into each other. Like President Obama said...there's nothing more American than a game of football! The best reaction by far was the screaming, shouting, running, jumping, whooping, hollering, hi-fiving, beer bottle clinnking, table dancing, and general kindergarten pandemoniom eminating from full grown adult men as the Ravens scored their last touchdown for the game.

Sometimes I feel like I have a lot of friendships come and go, but then I realize that the ones that go are the ones that probably were never meant to be in the first place. I can't stand liars, fakes, and women who will do anything and sacrifice good friends for a little bit of attention = low-bitch tolerance a.k.a. low-asshole tolerance. It doens't have to be gender specific.

Me and my BF Jen. She is the first mate on my Don't-Abaondon-Your-Career Ship. S.O.S.














My final thought for this blog is just a random thought and philosophy. Just before the 4th quarter, I ran across four lanes of traffic with the Ho Exterminator to get some sweets with some wanna-be Pimp money. There was one bag of Chocolate Chip cookies left and a little bit of diversity in the cupcake arena. We chose these for one main reason - since we knew that the drunk monkeys were going to be devouring them, we figured we might as well get the ones with the sprinkles so that at least it will look pretty when it comes back up later. That is truly a lesson learned from Superbowl parties past. Oh the memories...