Thursday, August 31, 2006
Now don't go getting all holy wrath, smite thee, get thee to a nunnery on me. I'm only telling you what's in the book. And why it took me so long to pick it up again. All the other Anne Rice books, I've probably re-read countless times. I can quote passages out of some.
It scared me in the same sense that I used to HATE Kevin Spacey for. The first movie I saw him in was Se7en. And he's only got a small actual acting part in it. But he scared the PISS out of me. I wouldn't see anything with him in it for a LONG time. I think at the time I was genuinely convinced he was a raving psychotic murderer. American Beauty was probably the next movie I saw with him in. He is a frighteningly good actor. Unreal. I also didn't like Edward Norton for a short time after American History X. But I'd seen him in other movies enough that I realized that wasn't really him. Edward Norton is also one of my favorite actors. I'd like to round out the list with Gary Oldman. Gary Oldman is such a good actor that a lot of people have no idea who he is. You've probably seen more movies with him in it than you realized. He was Dracula in Bram Stoker's Dracula. He was Beethoven in Immortal Beloved. He was the terrorist in Air Force One. He was Lieutenant Gordon in Batman. And he was Sirius Black in the Harry Potter movie(s). He's been in a lot. You should definitely see movies with him in them.
Finally another actor I hate to admit is good: Leonardo Dicaprio. He played a retarded kid in What's Eating Gilbert Grape. I thought he really was retarded. I thought he was two different people in The Man in the Iron Mask. Catch Me If You Can was OK, not the greatest movie. In fact I don't think I could sit through the whole thing. I heard Gangs of New York was really good, although I haven't seen it yet. But my point is that they're still good actors. I am less fond of actors who can't leave themselves out of a role. Tom Cruise is a classic example of this. Can you think of any role he's played where he wasn't Tom Cruise?
Anyway, feel free to leave me your own examples of media-type diversions that you were lost in. A book you couldn't put down. A movie you own multiple copies of because you wore out the first tape/disc. Hell, a TV show you own all 10 seasons of. Music you can't stop listening to. Whatev! I'm in the mood to see/hear/read some new stuff.
J has been picking up a number of details. Well actually, one recurring detail, which is a nighttime only detail. He is already up all night, whether or not he's working, and so he'll tack on a few extra hours pre-shift. It's nice when that money comes in, DUH. Of course, the way it's contracted means it pays direct, which means come tax-time we are going to be HATING UNCLE SAM! The other thing that sucks is that I like to see him before I go to bed. Today he woke up at 5, and left the house at 8:30. Being an adult sucks. I know I've whined about missing him before, but that was a while ago so this is me doing it again.
The more details that come out about the Marcus Fiesel case just make me sick. Call me a bleeding heart liberal; I just don't want to hear the gory details of what the Carrolls did anymore. But I'm not so liberal that I don't believe they should FRY for what they did. Last night on the news they were shown in court in yellow jump-suits. Jim says to me "That means they're on suicide watch." And you know what? Good. It would be very disheartening to hear that they took the easy way out. They should have to live for a LONG time, CONSTANTLY being reminded of how heartless and evil they are. Now tell me I'm a hippie.... Hamilton County set their bond at 10 million dollars EACH. I think that's a new record for Cincinnati.
I don't necessarily consider myself Republican or Democratic. I am pretty liberal, which by default gets me accused of being Democratic. But being a cop's wife means I get many more details on these stories than the general public. And it brings out the base, seedy, all-too-human side of you. It brings out the animal, the carnal desire to set things right. In fact you don't see a lot of animals holding court on the African Savannah. They only kill what they need to eat, or feed their families. Humans murder. So the human response, and I think it is solely human, is for punishment, vengeance, JUSTICE.
Why is it wrong for us to act like God? Why are we created with a sense of acting on behalf of others? A sense of enacting justice? The rest of the animal kingdom doesn't NEED to be punished, because nature doesn't do things senselessly. Every action in nature serves a purpose. Human actions routinely defy reason. But we also have the wherewithal to recognize that justice isn't served on this plane of existence.
If you've read Gulliver's Travels, and it's been a LONG time since I have, but there's a group that Gulliver meets, and I think they're horses? I don't remember, but while he's living with them, he comes to realize they don't lie or deceive at all. He is dumbfounded by their faith in each other, and they are completely confounded by what it means to tell someone something that isn't true. Much as I suspect that animals, if they were possessed of the means to understand human nature, would be BEYOND confused by our actions.
Sheep, wolves, and sheepdogs. Someone tell me we don't need the sheepdogs, or that we need to put leashes on the sheepdogs. I'll tell you where you can shove it.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
I love how doing a search for “cop’s wife” on google gives me some blogs, and a million articles about murdered cop’s wives. That’s reassuring.
“mechanic held for teasing cop’s wife.” “Find the cop’s wife chopped up inside.” “Murder of cop’s wife” “Criminals shoot cop’s wife, commit robbery” “A cop’s wife found dead” “militants behead cop’s wife, daughter” “slain cop’s wife”...
and then there’s this one...”cop’s wife in prostitution racket”....um, what!
Anyway I was looking for other cop's wife websites, and found these three blogs:http://storiesofacopswife.blogspot.com This girl sounds like ‘Benetar’, Rob the Terrorist’s wife.
And then I found this:
http://onduty.tripod.com/8.htm WHAT IS A COP'S WIFE?
A cop's wife is a woman who is married to a man who is "married" to his job, his partner and his badge.
A cop's wife can usually be found cooking breakfast at midnight, picking up his uniforms at the cleaners and spending nights alone.
A cop's wife must be a good listener, and not question him. She must be understanding when he goes out for a beer with his buddies, doesn't feel like taking her to the movies, or has an exam to study for.
A cop's wife must live with shift work, lonely holidays, bad jokes, ulcers and alcohol, bulletproof vests and fixed incomes. She is used to words like rape, robbery, assault and child abuse. She is familiar with night school, stakeouts, overtime, and being on her own.
Most women are not born or raised to be a cop's wife; it is something that they have chosen to do. Some can and others cannot.
She will spend each day learning, listening to and loving a man that few people respect and most others often hate.
A cop's wife makes beds, breakfasts and love to a man who spends more time with junkies, hookers, informants, pimps and partners than he does with her. She attends dinners, meetings and sometimes funerals.
A cop's wife watches the man she loves grow old before his time, watches him become cold and unfeeling, but she will remain his friend, wife and lover. She will always be these things to him, but she also knows that he will always be first, A Cop.
When a cop's wife kisses him as he leaves for work, she will make a silent wish that he will return to her. And every time there is a knock at the door, she will pray that it is not the Chief of Police and her husband's partner coming to say kind things about her husband, how brave he was, how dedicated he was.
Being a cop's wife means lots of trust, love and worry, but when he says "I love you", it makes it all worthwhile.
Monday, August 28, 2006
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14558359/ This is why. Sick sick fucks. Pardon my language, but those people should be burned alive. You shouldn't read the story if you are sensitive or faint of heart. But I don't understand how people like that would want to adopt or foster a child. I just don't. I'll give you the quick run-down. The parents are responsible for his death, and after the fact, tried to make it look as though he had been taken. I can't tell you how many people around Cincinnati were looking for this child, worried sick that he was playing a game and hiding in the bushes from the search parties, or that he wandered into traffic or a body of water, etc. How many people who'd never met the foster parents or Marcus, and were volunteering their time to look for him. How many cops went with K9s (who never found a trace, natch) and spent valuable time and tax dollars. And how many people felt needless stress when they couldn't find him. Just sick individuals.
Then we were talking about the Jon Mark Karr kook, confessing to Jon Benet Ramsey's death. A lot of people I work with seem to think he came up with a convenient reason to be extradited out of Thailand. Well, I can see that. But the guy looks creepy enough anyway that he probably needed to be locked up. We got to talking about DNA testing. Of course, another thing that people learn from TV is that DNA tests come back 40 minutes after the samples are collected. The same way fingerprints come back immediately. Let's be real here people. I have it on good word (I.e. from cops) that fingerprints themselves take weeks to go through databases for a match. It isn't instantaneous. Neither is DNA. It takes longer for DNA. Quit believing everything you see on TV.
Having said that, they found out that Karr's DNA doesn't match DNA found at the scene. The warrant against him was thrown out. The guy has a litany of other reasons he should be locked away forever. Unfortunately it won't be as easy as people thought it would be.
On a lighter note, Snakes on a Plane did HORRIBLY at the box office. Ha ha! Entertainment Weekly ran an article wondering why it had done so poorly, when it was so hyped. Um, excuse me o wondered weekly rag, YOU were hyping it, not the public. D'uh!
Off to Target. Hope you've enjoyed my rant o'the day.
Friday, August 25, 2006
True story: Nathaniel Jones was high on PCP, was harassing people at White Castle 4:30 in the morning, less than a mile from my house. Cops are called, of course, and they show up to talk to him. He starts taking swings at the officers, left and right. This is actually CAUGHT ON TAPE. Four guys have to wrestle him down to the ground to handcuff him. Because of the strain and activity on his heart, which was enlarged (and, gosh, I don't know, the huge amounts of illegal drugs in his system), he died in custody. It nearly started another wave of riots here in Cincy. And one of the claims was that it wasn't known what happened before the camera started recording, because he was already swinging when the tape started. Someone had the forethought to run back and hit record when it started. And you'd think it protected the cops? Of course not. Asshole lawyers like Ken Lawson can pull the greatest bullshit out of their behinds and try to make the cops look bad.
Anyway my point is that the new dash-cam system really should help eliminate some of those questions. Hopefully more departments will be able to budget them in.
"This is Grandpa."
Which was very cool that he was calling himself that already. Although I would have called him Rich if I'd been the one calling. He and I talked for another hour and a half. By the time the night was over, I was exhausted of the phone. I had asked several questions in my letter to him, and he seemed to have come up with most of the answers. He told me my grandmother's name, that I look like she did. She had red hair. She liked to go square dancing. She died of a blood clot after surgery (which Alice had told me also). He told me she was stubborn and bullheaded, which sounds just like me. He told me about his aunts and uncles, and how one of them had been walking one of the cows on the farm, and the cow spooked and dragged her to death. She was 13. His father was one of 9, which is a pretty big family to start with. Then my grandfather was one of five. He told me about his other son, Michael, and told me more about how he died. He was driving a '66 Chevy convertible, and fell asleep and hit a coal truck.
He told me a lot about my father. How he didn't like to be bossed around. He played ball real well, and could run like a jack-rabbit. He was a great mechanic. He broke his leg and arm when he was 11 months old in a car accident. He didn't like his stepmother, Mary. Mary had the same disorder that Katherine Hepburn had, so my father called her Shaky Jake. He tells me that my father dropped dead in the middle of the night. My grandfather called the paramedics, who were only able to resuscitate him for a few breaths. They performed an autopsy. He tells me my father had a pre-existing heart condition that caused cardiac failure.
Then he told me I am one of his 19 children. And he proceeds to list off a few more names that Alice didn't have. He tells me about some kids that were due a month apart from each other. Some that were born in separate states. My father REALLY got around. I am fascinated by this, but it's very strange. It's a strange confession that your father slept with anything that moved. It's a strange thing to talk to your 9 year old brother when you are 26 years old. And then to hear about your 36 year old brother, your 33 year old sister who's got kids of her own.
He tells me he was in the Air Corps, which is what it was called before they called it the Air Force. He flew B52s Or maybe he said B54s, I'm not sure now. He told me my father was in the Army, in the Signal Corps. I don't know what that means.
It was a LOT to take in. I'm probably going up to Columbus in another week or so to meet some of these family members. I'm at the same time completely overwhelmed and exhausted by all this information, and still fascinated and hungry for more. It's a lot to process.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
I heard from my father's cousin, Alice. She is SUPER nice. Sounds like a sweet aunt, which she sort of is, although technically a cousin. She grew up with my father, so she knew him well. We were on the phone for almost an hour and a half. I found out I have at least nine siblings. Apparently my father got around. That isn't even counting my sister Cate, who I share a mother with. But these kids from my father range in age from 36ish to 9. Putting me smack in the middle, although toward the older end.
My grandfather received my letter, and showed it and my pictures to Alice. She says I look like my grandmother. I also had an uncle, who died in 1973 when he was 21. A car accident. she thinks my father died of an aneurysm. Which scares me, because I was in the hospital in Feb? of this year with a HUGE headache, and they thought that might be the cause.
Here's the part I'm not so happy about. She tells me the entire family had two reunions this year, and the second one was just last weekend. If you've been following my saga, I called her ex and her daughter two weeks ago. So I could have been there. So I'm a little bitter about that.
But Alice tells me I look like my grandmother, Susie. She died when she was 32 of a blood clot after a surgery. And she tells me I look like Stacy, the only other sister I had previously confirmed existence of. So that's cool, I guess. I'm completely overwhelmed right now. It's 9:00 as I compose this, and I seriously doubt I'll be able to get any sleep for a while.
Now I guess I'll wait and see if my grandfather decides to call me. I don't want to push him, but he is 88. I'd like to meet him before he gets much older. He has custody of my youngest brother, because that mother is, get this, in PRISON. And when something happens to my grandfather, custody goes to Alice's daughter. I'm wondering what about the other siblings? I may be going to Columbus soon to meet this family. It turns out I've got quite a big family...EEEK!!! So neat! So crazy! So overwhelming!
My other favorites include The Leatherman, with Jimmy Fallon and Britney Murphy, the Cowbell-Blue Oyster Cult-Don't Fear the Reaper, with Will Ferrell and the creepy guy whose name I can't recall, and the entire episode with Justin Timberlake. Too funny.
Still haven't heard from anybody in my family.
Really beginning to hate my job. Had a horrible week so far. I'm sick of having to explain to people how to do THEIR jobs, and bird-dog them to make them do their jobs. I'm sick of working with idiots. I'm sick of being interrupted so we can talk about stupid conversations, especially when I am in the middle of working on something, AND I have my headphones on. Many huge signs which are saying "Don't Interrupt."
J saw Rob the terrorist last night. He asked how I was and said to tell me Hi. I guess I passed the test with him, anyway. The Bear, who threw the party, also asked if I had a good time. So there's that. J did get the night off tomorrow for the Benevolence Steak Fry, but I know he'd rather have Saturday off to watch the UFC fight. Them's the breaks, I guess.
No big cop stories to share right now. May be more later tonight. Who knows.
Ta ta for now, brown cow
This Friday is the Police & Fire Benevolence Association Steak Fry. It's such a strange, small town thing. But it's fun! They upped the price this year, from $10 to $15. But you get a steak, baked potato, salad and corn on the cob, and all the beer/soda you can drink. Plus all the proceeds go to a good cause. If one of the police or firemen dies, the spouse gets an immediate sum for funeral costs. I don't know what all the benefits are, but it's a good association. So we're going. Again.
Monday, August 21, 2006
I sent the letter to my grandfather today. I am going to meditate on it and try to forget about it. Despite trying to be all buddhist about all this shit, and telling myself not to count my chickens, it's HARD! I keep thinking rather selfishly that I should be a higher priority! I mean, for crying out loud, I never knew HALF of my family! That's a lot. So maybe I'm being melodramatic about it. Sue me.
Meanwhile, I did more research on J's family. Turns out that he's related to Screw Andrews, our very own local Capone. He was a numbers runner in Covington/Newport, which is right across the lovely Ohio river from my fair city o'Cincinnati. He 'fell' out of a hospital window in 1973 while recovering from a GSW. Sounds like something right out of Godfather, doesn't it? J's as blond as can be, but he's actually more Italian than you'd guess it, to look at him. We play the "Movie of your life" game all the time, and the big joke is that Paulie Walnuts would play J's dad. Swear to you, he's the portrait of a Don. Of course he's absolutely the friendliest guy ever, and always has a smile on his face. To know him is to love him. If you don't know him, though, he looks like he'd kick your ass in a heartbeat. Anyway, it turns out J's family has a FAR more interesting history than my own. Mine, well, we're all asshole Germans and drunk Irishmen. Remind me again why I'm hunting them down???
Let's be honest, if any of you have been around a group of cops, whether or not they're drinking, the conversation ALWAYS turns to sex. Always.
Always. In fact, Junior says "I probably know more about you than you think I know." I returned with "And I probably know just as much about you. He comes home and tells me that tonight's stories were about who likes to get spanked." Then Rob the terrorist comes up and says "All I know is I want to see this little Bo Peep getup." My smartass replies with "Eh, it's more of a Dorothy outfit." And Bobby, I mentioned that I read you like to see a girl in your uniform shirt. I got a lot of "yeah that's hot" replies.
But then I realize that they're actually saying that I look like Alison Hannigan, who plays Michelle the band geek in American Pie. You may also know her as Willow from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Which, according to Troy, is good because she's "Smokin' Hot"...I am not of that mind. (Well OK maybe in that last link) I'd rather they said I looked like Angelina Jolie or something...oh well. And I don't even have red hair anymore! But I guess it's better than saying I look like shit.
Anyway, J got quite lit, all the guys shared plenty of bathroom humor stories, and I finally got a bunch of faces to go with a bunch of names. So all in all it was a GREAT night. J hasn't worked since that night though so I don't know yet if I passed the test, since everybody there already knew each other.
-Miss American Pie....
Saturday, August 19, 2006
When you're driving in the fast lane and you see a cop behind you, don't go five miles an hour under the speed limit. We are not impressed by how safe a driver you can be, we're trying to go help someone (or catch that guy in the SUV that just cut you off). Safely move over and let us pass please.
If you get a warning instead of a ticket from a motorcycle cop, go buy a lottery ticket, because you've already beaten the odds.
Here's how to get out of a ticket: ......don't break the law.
When you see an officer conducting a traffic stop, or with a suspect in handcuffs, it is generally not a good idea to approach him and ask for directions. If you do, don't expect the officer to be nice when he tells you to get lost, and don't expect the officer to take the time to explain.
If you think you can fan all the pot smoke out of the car before we smell it, good luck.
We know you've had more than 2 beers. When I've had two beers, I don't hit six parked cars or drive my car through the front doors of a Toys-R-Us, piss my pants, or pass out at a traffic light.
If you drive a piece of crap, that is why you're getting pulled over.
In one week I pulled over 10 cars for minor equipment violations:
5 out of 10 had no vehicle insurance.
3 out of 10 had suspended driver's licenses.
2 out of 10 had warrants.
1 out of 10 had felony warrants.
1 was a known sex offender, with his 12 year-old niece in the car, without her mother's knowledge.
If you've just been pulled over doing 70 in a 35, do not greet the officer with "what seems to be the problem, officer?"
We get coffee breaks too, and sometimes we run into stores and do some shopping during those breaks.
When you're the victim of a burglary, take the time you spend waiting for the officer to find the model numbers and the serial numbers of the stuff that was taken.
Some cops are just jerks, but take heart in the fact that other cops don't like them either.
If it's nighttime and you 're driving a vehicle with tinted windows and I pull you over, it's not because of your skin color. I usually can't tell if the vehicle even has a driver until the window is rolled down.
Every time you hear on the news about people running away from a crazed gunman, someone's son or daughter in a police uniform is running TOWARD that crazed gunman.
Yes it's true, cops usually don't give other cops tickets. Think of it as an employee discount, perk or benefit. Other cops are family and you wouldn't give your brother a ticket if you were a cop either.
If your local police agency has a helicopter, everyone knows it's loud and annoying, but did you know it can cover the same area as 15-20 patrol officers, and safely chase criminals that are driving 90 MPH through city streets. Many times the guy has no idea it's there and slows down. Keeping you safe, and letting us catch him.
Your 5 year-old kid getting pushed down by another 5-year old kid is NOT a police matter; talk to the other kid's parents, not the police. If your kid won't do his homework or do his chores, 911 is not the answer for a uniformed parent.
If you rob a gas station you're only going to get $20, but I get to see a K-9 dog use your arm as a chew toy. For all I care you can keep the $20.
Police work is...writing reports. In one year of patrol work in a large city, only about 10 minutes would be cool enough to be on the television show, COPS. But if COPS was about report writing and accident reports, each show would be a year long.
Every traffic stop could end in gunfire, but we have to be polite and professional until that time.
I've taken about the same amount of men and women to jail for domestic violence, so NO, it's not always the man.
People love firefighters; you usually don't see them until your life is already in danger. And the cops go after the guy who started the fire.
If you find crack pipes in the ladies purse, there is a good chance they belong to her.
If the light was yellow, we wouldn't be having this conversation.
Cops know you pay taxes and that your taxes pay cops' salaries. Cops also pay taxes, which also pay cops' salaries so hey... this traffic stop is on me. Now sign here and press hard, there are five copies.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
I have become more impatient lately, so I guess that's why I'm already disappointed that I haven't heard back. Later in the evening, I called back the man I spoke to yesterday afternoon, Ellis, and got his answering machine. I left him a voicemail asking him to give his daughter my numbers, as I was unable to reach her. I also mentioned that he could call me back. I haven't heard from him either. He seemed so nice on the phone, so I can't imagine that he's being rude or anything deliberate, but I have such a pessimistic mind.
In the meantime, I was thinking more about calling my grandfather, which my mom encouraged. Instead I stayed up half the night creating a letter to write to him. Once I had the idea to write to him, my mind couldn't stop composing the letter. I didn't actually put pen to paper (or keyboard to computer, since I'd rather type than write) until today, though. Then I spent the afternoon debating whether I should just call him and get it over with, or send the letter. I think it would be less of a shock if I wrote him, plus it gives me the opportunity to put my thoughts in order, instead of risking sounding like I am retarded if I call him and get flustered. So I have the letter saved at work. I will handwrite it before I send it, but the composing goes so much better when I can type it. I can type at 100+ wpm, but my hand cramps if I hold a pen too long. Guess them's the breaks in the technology age.
Anyway, I appreciate the support being thrown my way. It's such a weird experience to go through. Then again, I think some of you people are weird if your parents were always married and you know everybody in your family. So there.
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Anyway, this cousin's husband, Ellis, gives me his daughter's name, who now lives in Columbus, and says to call her tonight, she'll probably cry with happiness when she hears from me. I don't know if any of them knew I existed, but Ellis seemed a bit familiar with my story when I told it to him. I just can't get over it. So he tells me my cousin (I don't even know to what degree) will tell me all about my dad tonight.
Monday, August 14, 2006
The IACP/Dupont (Kevlar, natch) publishes a list of people who survived attacks because of their vests. I say 'attacks' because there are documented cases of officers lives being saved while in an auto accident, or a non-ballistics attack (read: baseball bats, blunt objects). They also estimate the average cost of an officer's life loss at 1.3 million dollars. Surely the cost of a vest is justifiable by that figure.
Plus, to the spouses, children, and families of the officers, $1.3 million is a paltry sum. We'd much rather you come home. Wear it, and be safe.
IACP/Dupont Kevlar Survivors' Club. 3000 as of June 2006. WEAR IT. We love you.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
I had the BIZARREST dream. We were at the Playboy mansion, but it was more like a hotel. It was HUGE. Holly, Bridget and Kendra were there, and they had a ton of makeup on. And they were wearing coordinating dresses. My FIL was at a gambling table, but it was apparently some gambling I made up in my head. Let's just call it craps. We were touring this place, and there was a huge party going on. Then Hef opened the doors to the movie room, which was the largest theater I've ever seen. If you've ever watched the Girls Next Door, you have seen their little movie room, and it's about big enough for 50 people. (Which is still larger than my home theater, but I digress) Anyway, then Holly mentions something about going to the strip club on the 7th floor. Why was I hanging out with her in my dream? Because I have bizarre dreams sometimes. I need to stop smoking crack.
Is this the wrong time to mention that my husband has actually *been* to the Playboy mansion? Yup. His dad works in publishing and they were having the 50th anniversary parties. FIL got invited, and MIL would have NOTHING to do with going to the mansion, so FIL cleared it that he could bring his son instead of his spouse. Normally they frown on bringing more guys instead of girls, but it wasn't exactly that kind of party. Still, he got to go.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
"They should have taken more time to figure out the gun."
"The cops are lying, you can't believe what they're saying. They're all brothers so they stand up for each other" blah blah blah.
I've personally been listening to the radio when this moron goes on, and I've also been guilty of yelling at the radio or almost calling in, because this bitch is an IDIOT! She's actually a complete moron! J said this morning he was so pissed off, he almost called the show to let them know he couldn't listen anymore because of her. I personally don't think I could listen either, because of her. But I have Sirius so I listen to Howard in the morning anyway. :)
Another thing mentioned this morning on the radio, especially in the wake of today's narrowly thwarted terror attacks in England, is that of a survey conducted, 30% of the people surveyed didn't know what year 9/11 happened in.
You're kidding me, right? THREE OUT OF TEN PEOPLE can't remember something that happened IN THEIR LIFETIME??? So maybe the WTC Nick Cage movie *isn't* too soon. What the hell? Now, if someone that reads this blog can tell me, HONESTLY, that they don't remember EXACTLY what they were doing on the morning of 9/11, let me know. I don't buy it.
In fact, I'm not sure I believe the veracity of the report. I just honestly can't fathom that in my mind.
Fast forward. I'm 20, having grown up reasonably stable without him. It's just after the holiday season. My mom and I are talking on the phone because her uncle just died. J and I are debating going to the funeral, which is 2 hours away. She tells me that my little sister, then 12, asked if I ever knew my father. Mom then asked if I had ever wanted to know him. I said "Oh maybe one of these days. Everybody tells me he was a jackass. I'm not sure if I want to get to know him?" End of discussion.
The next day, my great-grandmother dies. So now we're definitely going to Columbus for funerals. Due to the slick road conditions, she makes us swear to be careful coming up. "Deaths happen in 3s," she says. Nothing happens, we see my grandfather (my mom's father) who I haven't seen in some 10 years because he's a drunk and my grandmother and mother refuse to see him. He still looks like a fat old drunk. Big shock. My uncles still occasionally see him, but they take after him a bit.
We get back home to our lives. My mom calls a week later and says "Don't freak out, but the third thing happened."
Yup, you guessed it, my dad dropped dead that very week, at the ripe old age of 50. Universe has a funny way of letting you know the answer to questions you ask. Obit was very short and confusing. Obit was run on Wednesday morning, and the viewing was Wednesday night. Nobody even told my mom until Friday. From what I can find of the death certificate, he died at a hospital, cause unstated, was autopsied, and then cremated. So there goes any chance of me getting to know the dirty drunk truck driver they called Spanky.
Fast forward to 2006. Ancestry.com is offering a free trial period, so you can do as much researching in your family as you can in the two weeks. I of course start trying to figure out more about my entire family, including my dad's side. Turns out I have at least one half-sibling. She's four years older than me. May have gotten married recently, I can't quite tell. The internet is a great tool but it can confuse the hell out of you. Now I can't figure out if I should try to contact her. Or my grandfather, who is still alive, it turns out. Part of me wants to, very much, because there is so much identity that can be gained. Does my sister have green eyes also? Does my grandfather yell at every idiot driver? Plus, are there any hereditary disorders I should know about? Having never been around these people, it would be quite an interesting little research into Nature v. Nurture. But if I think about it on the other side, would it shock the hell out of them to hear from me? I'm not sure if any of them know I exist. Their possible reactions are limitless.
Meanwhile, I can find J's extended family back six generations, because they haven't MOVED. His family has lived where we live for all this time! It's very strange!
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
All right, here we have a STAR player from OSU, awaiting charges on aggravated burglary charges, who makes an illegal move on a freeway, and just starts racking up the charges. He runs from the cops. When they finally get him out of the car, tasing efforts are futile because he's wearing a BULLET PROOF VEST. That, my friends, is what J likes to call a Scooby Clue. He has four guns in the car, one of them an assault rifle. Another is in holster in the back seat. Sounds like he was on his way to a regular ol' shoot out! Darn, guess he's not going to make it.
Well, at least he'll be good on the prison football team!
Come to think of it, he'd probably fit RIGHT in with the Bengals stars who have spent the last year getting arrested for many varied charges.
Monday, August 07, 2006
J was off last night. So he took the opportunity to fix something he's been wanting to fix for a while. I woke up this morning and found this on my dining table. If he wasn't a cop, I'd think it was distinctly trashy. However...
So we were looking at another cop blog site...I think Johnny Law, and one of his cop links is to killology.com. J immediately recognizes it, because Lt. Col. Dave Grossman owns this site. And earlier this year J took Bulletproof Mind, which is a course Mr. Grossman teaches about the psychology of killing/combat, and how cops deal with it. J got one of his books, On Killing, while at the course. It's a pretty interesting read. It's helpful to spouses as well. One of the things that stuck with me from the book is the startling statistic that, in WWII, something like only 10% of soldiers actually fired their weapons with the intent to kill. Some of them don't fire, some of them purposely aim incorrectly, some volunteer for alternate jobs that put them on the front lines but don't require shooting. Then as each war or 'conflict' occured throughout the 20th century, the statistics got higher. Grossman theorizes it's because the Army figured out how to better train/prepare their soldiers psychologically, and practice conditioning. Anyway, you'll probably enjoy it.
Sunday, August 06, 2006
We see a demo for field trials, with a golden retriever, a yellow lab, a chocolate lab, a black lab, and a German wire hair. They're all getting fake ducks out of this pond. I've never seen this done in person, but I love seeing working dogs in action. I watch Animal Planet fairly often. Am I a geek? Probably. I love dogs!
Anyway, blah blah, we went to the Gallery Hop after the fair. It's in the uber-hip Short North district, which is near OSU's campus. There are a ton of art galleries there, trendy little boutiques, and on the first Saturday of each month they keep the stores and galleries open late, and street performers do their thing, places have wine tastings, etc. It's a very urban, trendy thing to do. It's actually pretty fun, you see all sorts of people, and it's a different view of things. Makes Columbus seem like New York, if only for a few hours. Plus Cate was performing with Anatomical Scenario.
They were doing a fashion show at some store called G&Co. It's a boutique type store, with big name designer jeans, overly priced of course, and some cute shirts and stuff. So the girls are basically being living mannequins. They're in the windows, and they're drawing a HUGE crowd. Some people are FASCINATED. Cate's in the middle, in purple.
Some people are imitating them, or trying to get them to laugh. People are walking in the store, checking them all out, then shopping. I should mention that part of the Annadroid thing is a backlash against consumerism, and part of one of their performances is Shop-Buy-Swipe. So I thought it was a little ironic that they were in a high priced boutique doing this. But whatever.
When they go to change, we cruise up and down High Street, and check out some of the other performances and such. Grimaldi Circus is there, doing stilt walking. They looked like flamingos, not sure why, but it was pretty amusing. We cruise back to see the girls again, and we ended up hanging out at this boutique, either inside or out, the rest of the night. At one point three guys and one girl come in, looking very ... L.A. The guys are all in black with their hair all slicked back and stuff, and the girl is uber-fake platinum blond, with big plastic boobs and a bad tan. I HATE when people act pretentious for attention, so I'm ignoring them, natch. They know the shop owner, or the manager or something, so they're 'in', hanging out with the employees. Who are also very trendy, running around in ultra chic clothing and acting snobby to the patrons. Kind of boring, but again, whatever. One of them goes up to the Annadroids, stops in front of Cate, and is pantomiming with her. My mom says "I think he's trying to direct her." In this picture, Cate's on the right, in the black funky print dress. Thats a real mannequin behind her.
He makes a motion like he's lighting a cigarette or joint, and then pulls it from his mouth like he's offering it to her. She pantomimes taking it, dropping it on the ground, and smashing it with her CFM shoes. I love it. She got the smart-ass genes after all.
At one point one of the employees comes over to us and says "They just got in from Hollywood." (Gag) "have you seen Napoleon Dynamite? that's Pedro."
HAHAHAHAHAHA! As it turns out, Efren Ramirez has a twin brother who lives in Columbus, or goes to OSU or something. Not really sure what the story is, but they're both in the store right now. And let me tell you they are IDENTICAL. Then the employee says "Go talk to him!"
I said 'No way.' I'm not into celebrity fawning. What am I going to say to him? "Oh I've seen you in a movie or two. Cool." WTF? First of all, half the time celebrities don't want to be approached because they're a celebrity. I would imagine it gets old. So I'm not going to do it. Second of all, if they DO want to be approached, it's an ego-stroking thing, so I'm not going to do it!
To make the story even longer, apparently these guys were quite enamored of the Annadroids, and ended up inviting them out to a club afterward. I think they were actually going in costume. I haven't talked to Cate yet today to find out if she went or had fun, but I'm sure there'll be an update on her blog.
So Aaron finally gets his wallet and keys, and hops in the car. We're all making fun of him for forgetting, and Andrew asks if anybody else does the 'check' before they leave the house. I said, "I always do the Money, I.D., Lipstick, Keys check. MILK." And as the words are coming out of my mouth, I realize I didn't do that check today. And walked right out the door without my ID.
Crap. Now for those of you that don't know me, I'm going to be honest here, I'm 26. And I've been blessed with good genes to the point that sometimes people don't even believe I'm 21. So there's no WAY I'm getting in any bar without it. Plus I'm now driving around without my license. Not sure about where you live, but in Ohio they pretty much frown on that. So off we go, all the way back to my house. I'm doing my usual routine, speeding down the freeway about 5 over, and I think, "this would be bad if I got pulled over, because I don't even have anything with me to prove my husband's a cop." Yeah, I'd use it to get out of a ticket. Lie to me and say you wouldn't.
We get all the way back to my city, which is where J used to work. So I know every single one of the officers here. I'm breathing a sigh of relief. There's no way I can get pulled over here, right? You see where this is going. Now I'm getting cocky, and I'm going almost 40 in a 25. Stupid, I know. It's getting near shift change so I'm counting on nobody being out. Wrong. Sure enough, the only officer on the force here who runs radar in a town that's a square mile, is sitting in the bank parking lot. And I'm one of the only cars out, since it's now 11:00 at night. He flies out of the lot after me, and I'm STILL being cocky about it! "Oh, he'll recognize my car and leave it. Or he'll run the plate and when it comes back to us, he'll leave it."
About a block from my house he flips his lights on. I already knew it was coming so I pull over immediately. Absolutely MORTIFIED. He takes his time running the plate and calling it in. Then he walks up to the car, where I'm rather sheepishly sitting, and for a moment, I almost swear he doesn't recognize me. This guy has brought his kids over to my house for trick or treating. I've watched the other guys put skull n crossbones hot sauce on his wings. I know his workout routine. I say "Hi Bill." He responds, "How's it going? I clocked you at 40."
"I know, I was going home to get my purse."
"well let's try to slow her down, OK?"
"Have a good night."
Eek. That's the first time I've EVER been pulled over. J's now telling me not to worry about it, Bill pulls everybody over, it's not a big deal, etc. My point of view? I should have known better. And I'm an asshole for going 40 in a 25. Eek. I guess I'm lucky it was in my city, right?
Friday, August 04, 2006
Later at dinner, he says, "So we're at this bar last night for a fight..."
Obviously that isn't nothing, but to him it is.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Is it the endless fighting in the middle east?
Is it the tsunamis, earthquakes, deathly heat waves, hurricanes all occurring simultaneously?
Is it the fact that the greatest country in the world is run by a bunch of idiots that somehow are in office twice?
No. Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, my proof is this:
Left and right, the media is DEFENDING Mel Gibson. Just a few years ago when he came out with that stupid movie, Passion, people were saying it was anti-Semitic. Now he makes a few more anti-Semitic comments, and it's blown off because he was drunk. People, let's be realistic, here. Alcohol doesn't make you become someone you're not. It lowers your inhibitions, and allows the real you out. It makes you do stupid things, like make ridiculous racist comments, because you don't KNOW better than to censor yourself. Nevermind the fact that I've never met a racist that wasn't also an idiot. Howard Stern made a good point today, in that ABC and Disney stand to make a lot of money off Gibson's next movie, so of course they are going to defend him. Let's just call a spade a spade, shall we? And then get OVER it. He's a jew-hating ass. End of story.
And my other proof? There is this huge uproar on where Suri Cruise is. WHO FUCKING CARES??? Pardon my language, but LET THE CRAZIES RAISE THEIR KID IN PEACE! Do I think Tom Cruise is nutso? Yep, you betcha. Do I think Katie Holmes is brainwashed? Probably. Do I think their kid is deformed, a mutant alien, or the next coming of L. Ron Hubbard, simply because nobody's seen the kid? Nope. Why isn't anybody making a big deal because we don't know what his other two children look like? Do we claim those kids don't exist either?
And my final proof: Snakes on a Plane.
You're kidding me, right? This movie is being painted to be the blockbuster of the summer. Why? Because it's SNAKES ON A PLANE! WOW! But is it going to be a good movie? It's SNAKES ON A PLANE! Duh! Everybody who's everybody is going to see Snakes on a Plane! Right?
This is by FAR the most hyped up I've ever seen a movie that wasn't already a book, or a comic, or a sequel.
ha ha on Hollywood, I'm not seeing it!
A man tried to steal an officer’s gun from the holster. I wish there were more details on this, but I want to know why the officer wasn’t on top of his game. Story says the officer fell down when the guy tried to grab it, because the holster was locked. Was the officer tired? Was he focused on someone/something else?
I like to think, perhaps in a deluded sense, that officers are more aware of their surroundings. As a wife I think that’s what helps me sleep at night. J’s duty holster is a leather woven, like the Sam Brown belts, and does have a ‘locking’ strap. His off-duty holster is a different sort, molded to hold the gun unless pulled out in a specific way by the person wearing the holster. I’ve tried to pull the gun out when nobody’s wearing the holster, and that’s pretty hard to do. Especially when it sounds like someone’s trying to get into your house at 1 in the morning, and you’re trying to go investigate.
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/14043725/ This is too cute. It’s a new turn in K-9s, and it makes me wonder why nobody’s done this before. In a northern Ohio county, they’re using a 6 lb chihuahua as a drug sniffer. As a dog enthusiast I can’t help but think this is ingenius. Every time I read a story about yet another ‘use’ for dogs to assist us humans, it just gives me the warm fuzzies. This species has evolved right alongside humans for literally thousands of years, to the point that they are attuned to our bodies more than we are. They’re becoming an extension of people. Even if they are the tiny, sports car model, ‘accessory’ dogs, as I like to call them.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
Well if you weren't at the concert last night, I'd be surprised. Given that it was approximately 500 degrees in the shade, of course half the civilized world showed up at Riverbend to dance, sing, eat drink and be merry....It was a great concert. We took my little sister for her birthday. It would have been even better if it wasn't like standing on Mercury, and even better than that if we'd had seats instead of being on the lawn. Oh well.
Turns out hubby works with a guy whose cousin is Rashawn Ross, the newest member of Dave Matthews Band. He is a trumpet player. Unfortunately for us, J doesn't know this deputy very well, or we would have gotten backstage passes. His sergeant did, though, and she called to brag that they got back, got free drinks, and talked with Rashawn. Turns out he's very modest and flattered as all hell to be touring with the band. Pretty cool shit, no?
Today we went swimming and got burnt. Despite putting on a ton of SPF 30. J has been off for the last two days and isn't working tonight either so we don't have any cool po-po stories to share with you today.
But I have hardly seen ANYBODY online lately. Nobody commenting on my blog (how selfish of me), nobody updating their own blogs, nobody emailing, and nobody on my buddylist. It seems very quiet...or else everybody's just being quiet, waiting for someone else to run the show...
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
A few posts ago, Lugosi wondered why J was letting people go even though they were drunk. Now, the drunk teenagers did receive tickets, but the above link should illustrate why they were let go. Although Cincinnati is in Hamilton county, and J works in a different county, it’s the same damn problem. There’s just no space. The story above is an idea they’ve been tossing around for a while now. Tent jails. There’s just no room for any more prisoners. The officers not only have to decide if and when they arrest someone, but now they have to decide if this person should go to jail. Or if they can afford to let this person be free a while longer. I can’t say as it’s very fair on the officers to have to decide that. I mean, is that the way the system is designed to work? And with what consistency? And if the jail is full, but they have a violent felon, who gets to go free so he can be locked up?