[I Was Naked]
When I Wrote ThisGive Us Grace
2007-11-27
I'm quite sad and pensive this evening as I can't seem to get the news story out of my head out of Texas and the details of a child murdered.
"Baby Grace" the Jane Doe found in Galveston, didn't deserve one moment of the pain she was subjected to from her mother. I'm not even using the word alleged, as she admitted to beating her with belts, holding her head underwater and throwing her across the room, so violently she cracked her head on the tiles.
I'm not throwing any blame to other young mothers out there, or even people who play online games in their own virtual reality, as problematic people, but the mere fact that this woman left the father of her daughter to live with a man she met online playing World of Warcraft. Again, nothing against the game, I used to play it before it was an online phenom, and I've been known to take out a bad day on my roommates Everquest account.
But that's the point. There are outlets for aggression, and none of them involve abusing your children or killing them. Plus, brainiac that she is, couldn't even come up with a better story than a "social worker pushed me down and took her" and I'm sorry but how about a little documentation to back that up? I'm just bothered by the matter of fact accounting of her actions, as if there was no remorse, and I get the feeling if she ever had the chance to give birth again, that child would suffer the same fate.
At heart I'm a child advocate, even though I have none of my own, just through my own experiences in life, I don't want another kid to be treated poorly, let alone toddlers. Its a true fact that there are more animal shelters in the United States, than there are shelters for women and children.
It's difficult to look at this case with any objectivity since there isn't anything to go on before July 24th when they killed her. Well at least no facts that have been made public as of yet. I almost feel bad for the lawyer who has to represent them. It will be interesting to see what angle they come up with. Once you toss in abuse of a corpse, and the violence went on for so long, it rules out temporary insanity.
I'm grateful that there is rough justice in Texas and generally people who abuse and kill children are on the bottom of the cesspool and they'll get their just rewards. In cases such as this I've said for years that I think murderers should suffer the same fate they inflicted on their victims. Forget a jury of your peers, I want someone 3 times stronger and larger to beat them with leather belts, give them a few flushies, and throw them across the room. Hell I'll even spring for the container and I have a few friends that own storage lockers that will look the other way. Live by the sword, die by the sword. It's little wonder that the step father, coward that he is, attempted suicide last week. Pussy. By the time this is over, you'll wish you succeeded. However, I just think it was a ploy, and they knew time was running out for them. The universe in all its wisdom, prevented that bit of karma from playing out yet, and I don't believe a word he says that his little darlin' wife is innocent of all wrong doing. Please. Even if she didn't lift a hand to her daughter, she didn't lift a hand to help her either to get her out of harms way.
Riley's grandmother who has been diligent in finding her granddaughter, has stated that at least Riley is at peace now and away from all the abuse. I am puzzled for now by the lack of charges against the couple, but once the autopsy is completed my belief is more formal charges will be pressed. I'll be following this case, for no other reason than I need to see a punishment so strong, it may stop the next person from harming their child. Wishful thinking, but give us grace to see this through.
Texas takes care of their own, and I know they will do right by Riley.
Rest in peace baby girl, one day we will as well.
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Thankfully Over
2007-11-21
Anyone who follows along in my little saga knows that I'm thankful to have my old roommate living with me again. Twenty years has passed and we are still very compatible and there is a mutual respect for each others strengths and we do work well together. Knowing my time frame that the bankruptcy would be discharged in Jan 08, and giving him some time to do the outdoor things necessary to have my house market ready, then allowing for the softening of the existing home market, I had no problem promising him a year to get on his feet before I moved to California.
Gordon wasn't too pleased, but again, his lawyers are doing nothing except going for the title of longest drawn out divorce in history. Screw term limits of Congress, how about a common law divorce? Say after three years and there hasn't been any movement, I say it's automatically over, and the person holding out loses by default whatever they were holding out for, and the lawyers can't suck any more fees out of their clients. I keep telling him he has to file a complaint to the bar in California once this is resolved. But back to the universe laughing at my sorry ass.
My lawyer called me yesterday to let me know that my bankruptcy had been discharged. Just like that...two months early.
Now the normal person would be whoopin' it up, I just sat there without any emotion, one because I was at work, and two I was locked into a promise of a year, that I won't go back on, regardless of my wants and needs.
I'm learning some hard, but well needed lessons with this LDR. I'm actually thankful that they are being presented to me in the way it is, because truly circumstances are out of my control, and Gordon will not take any financial help to resolve his problems, which in my estimation is the first man in my life who refuses money from me. He's in a terrible bind right now, and his world is crashing in around him, and he is at the mercy of lawyers. His comment to me was this, " Consider it just like Rwanda, its a horrible situation, but there is nothing you can do about it."
My reply was, "The hell there isn't, just call me Angelina Jolie."
Now not in any universe, parallel or otherwise would I ever be mistaken for the lovely and wealthy Mrs. Pitt, nee Jolie. But I feel torn between not being able to resolve a problem for someone that I care about deeply, yet thankful for once that it isn't being put on my shoulders. He truly is the man for me, but again..big FU to the universe that I can't get there until his divorce is behind him, and I'm financially stable to relocate across country. No doubt, I'll need that year, or at least that's what I'm telling myself as I gaze longingly to the west. I know, I know, best laid plans of mice and men, just keep yucking it up universe, it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.
Foresight and experience gives me the grace I need to know things do work out the way they are supposed to, and just because we may not like how things are going right now, doesn't mean it's wrong. It just makes it life.
Thankfully, that's not over.
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And Now A Word From Our Sponsor
2007-11-19
Here's my excuse for not blogging...uhm...I'm picketing in support of the Hollywood writers who really have nothing to bitch about, but wanted some air time. After all, you know as a writer, the voice that you are putting to your words. Then along comes some pretty face and whether or not they nail it exactly as you intended, they still get spoken on air.
How many times are those writers really given the credit due? After your favorite show airs, and hopefully not one of those "realityesque" shows, because I have the same view of them as I do wrestling..it's just not real. Sorry WWF fans but seriously, that's just a soap opera for men, but I digress. I meant to say, how many times after watching your favorite show do you say to yourself,"Wow, good job writers!" Honestly I do say that whenever I watch LOST but other than that, the credit isn't given where it's due. My only hope is, that if they are picketing at least they have some clever signage. Which in my mind, since they are on strike, are they just walking around with blank picket signs?
Anyway, I hear things on the news, and think to myself, "Ooh I should address that..and then time escapes me, or as I've been doing lately, sleeping. I know I should be writing, because some of my thoughts come to me in my sleep. I woke myself frustrated the other morning because I was doing algebra in my sleep and the answers weren't correct. The odd part is, I never truly was one for algebraic equations, and it wasn't my best subject in school, let alone why on god's green earth I'm dreaming about it. Knowing my luck, it probably is some sign of a decline of my mental abilities, and the first sign of this tightly wound head of mine springing a leak. I can almost envision the whispered words behind cupped hands, "Doris, did you hear? She's finally lost it."
"Heavens to Murgatroid Marge, I heard it started with her losing her ability to do 7th grade math in her sleep."
" Tsk Tsk"
(Actually I'm starting to think it starts with conversations in my head between Doris and Marge, two women who only exist in the figment of this blog. Note to self, call and get an appointment with brain doctor.)
So until I actually have my thoughts together, and write something worthwhile, I'm now sending you back to your regularly scheduled reading, or television show. Whatever, but at least here on Shoutpost, I don't have to worry about advertising, and I'm ignoring the Netflix ad to my right. I think I'm just seeing things anyway.
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Cat Naps
2007-11-03
I really do love the wee hours of the morning. It's when I get to write, think about what's going on in my life, uninterrupted by the phone, tv or the needs of anyone else, except the occasional head bump to my arm while I'm typing by Simon. He's always here with me, by my side on the bed, attempting to use his opposable thumbs to edit if he doesn't like a particular phrase. Tough room to be sure. He's pure and simple, when he wants attention, he just head butts me, even if I'm in a sound sleep or I wake up to a claw in my head, nudging me gently awake.
I don't sleep much, generally I do cat nap. I'll grab a few hours, wake up and enjoy the stillness of the night, and the occasional infomercial, until I tire a few hours later and grab another hour or so. I've been this way my whole life. I remember being four years old and my mother completely vexed with me as I would never take a nap. I just don't require a lot of sleep, and god forbid I miss something going on in the world.
As I look at the time, 5:55 a.m. I've already been up for well over an hour, figuring out my day, and reflecting on my week. The possibility exists that I will be watching a four year old boy today, my roommates son, while his dad runs up to his rental property to clean it out for the cleaning woman. Hah. I've seen his cleaning woman and the pics of her tramp stamp in his Iphone, but whatever..call it what you will, no judgments here. Actually it is on the up an up as he was going to take little guy with him, but I thought it was just be too difficult for him to get done what he needs to do with a four year old underfoot. He didn't want to ask me to "babysit", I don't think of that in those terms.
I like kids, and I thought it would be a good time today, to do some art and crafty project for both of his parents for Christmas. I'm torn on doing the stepping stones, as I've gone down that path before with another five year old, and not that it was a disaster, but it does take 48 hours for cement to cure correctly. I haven't found the child yet with that patience level to see the finished product.
But he is all boy, so I may scrap that idea, and just go with building a rocket. My back yard is big enough and while it may not be Cape Canaveral or have the advantage of Ed Buckbee counting down the launch, its half and acre and clear of trees, except on the outer perimeters. This only comes to mind now, as little guy was missing him mom last night, dad was waiting to read to him, and well, to be honest, I am nothing if not soft and comfy to snuggle against when tears threaten. I had him calmed down, thumb in mouth, holding his blanket snuggled against me in the office chair, whispering words back and forth, when out of the corner of his eye he spotted a left over firework from the summer on the bookcase.
He leaped off of my lap and therefore but the grace of the Flying Wallendas, was I able to stop him from careening up three shelves to get his said goal.
Truly, I thought I had childproofed my house, but a four year old with determination? I hope he keeps his ability to think outside the box as he does now at this age, when a bright and shiny object grabs his attention.
You think animals can get into odd places? I don't want to know or have him recreate the acrobats necessary on various occasions when I spot one of my treasures in his little hands. I know I've pulled out the slide rule and graph paper, and run the necessary logarithms to calculate just how far out of reach something has to be, grinning in satisfaction with my endeavors. Oh, I'm prepared in my fat little mind. Generally in 2.5 minutes he blows my theories right out the door. Simon in his cat like way, is usually adding his cat like laughter as well, telepathically sending the four year old messages, "Yes, you have walked the rice paper, and grabbed the marble from my paw" which does lead me to believe in conspiracy theories.
Simon himself is still sporting some suspicious wounds on his head. For the life of me I couldn't figure out what he was rubbing against or gotten into for about a week. Finally I believe I found the soure of his woe. Two broken Egyptian perfume bottles and a lifeless carcass of a moth in the upstairs windowsill. I'm lucky that's all the damage, and it was a clean kill.
I just wish I could get him to sweep up after himself when he's done, or have the common courtesy to attempt to hide the evidence.
Simon has just stalked off in a huff, headed down the hallway to where the four year old is sleeping. My guess is that he starts whispering in his ear, about the secret hiding place in the hall closet where I keep all the breakables. I think I need a nap.
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