life as a stat - day 7

so its been almost a week. tomorrow at 10:45am will be officially 1 week.  I was able to almost get some decent sleep last night which was great.  Any other night I would have considered 3 hrs of sleep fairly craptastic but since they were 3 hrs in a row, I celebrated feeling human again today.  Tomorrow is another farmers market.  I fully intend to go, and face my worries.  My logical side knows that a) there is a high probability that the thieves would never return based on common sense and b) i now have an alarm system and lots of signs stating thus so your common criminal will move onto easier prey...  but when it comes to something like this, logic flies out the window..  my friends have been a great support as well as my family.  I feel almost silly telling everyone repeatedly about the woes and concerns and anxieties I am feeling but everyone has been great about just listening.  I think that has been key, being able to tell everyone... at least my close people... hey, i'm not that ok.  I won't be that ok for a while.  but I will get better.  i have faith in that tonight. 

its peaceful and quiet out tonight.  the crickets are chirping and the streets are quiet.  it reminds me of the sactuary that first brought me to the place.  secluded peace.  but now with a hyper aware girl behind the house walls.

tomorrow's plans are to get more things to secure the house and to visit some pawn shops to look for my stolen items.  The second thing sounds fairly easy but there is always this part that wants to pretend that nothing has happened.  Facing it will be good though.  The Gary police haven't made this easier though.  They have lost track of my police report.  seriously?!?!?  It boggles my mind how this city is (not) ran.   For tonight I will spend another night of insane vigelence (i can't spell, but i can spell statistics... ).   I am hoping to have a friend come out tomorrow.  I will let them sit and watch while I catch up on 5 days of sleep. My best friend said... do what you need to for yourself.  I think that is some of the best advice ever.  She had been robbed too so she knows the anxiety and fears the follow. 

Life is an odd thing.  Your security can be robbed, but your spirit will fight back.  And no one can rob that.  At least not for forever.

my life as a statistic

this blog title is more ironic than you know.  the officer who took my report asked me to spell statistic for him.  a part of me wrinkled right then.   Saturday _ May 5th 2012.  Approximately 10:45am my house was burglarized.  I had left at 10:20ish am to go to the local farmer's market which was having its opening day.  I returned at 11:10am to walk in and feel something was amiss.  After a second I realized my 42" LG LCD flatscreen tv was missng from its table.  In its place was empty space.  The ugliest empty space you have ever seen.  An empty space that claws at you insides.  Wires hanging.... a shadow left where there was no dust.  At first I thought... is this a joke?!?!?  Then I go into panic mode, check on the dog and cats in the bedroom...  they are fine.  Look at the back door, it has been kicked in.  I have been robbed.  It was like a brick falling on me.  Then another.  Then another...  this continued for several minutes while I played through the rest of the scene.  Call my friend Dan and say "i've been robbed, what do i do ?  call 911.  I'm gonna call 911. " hang up.  call 911 and give my address and tell them i just got home to find i'd been robbed.  I was instructed to leave the house and sit in my car w/ the doors locked until the cops showed up.  What make of car the operator asks. I can barely keep composure to say Toyota... Waiting for the cops was the longest 7 mins of my life.  They come and check the house, all clear.  Then the unending minutia of being victimized.  The police who took my report acted as if I was filing a wrong call report.  He was completely plussed by the whole scene.  Asking me what is missing, where I work, when it happened, why i did i keep my dog in the bedroom...  all I could think was...  how can you sit there calm and writing things down.. get in your car, chase them down.  It was a white pick up.  I saw it turn off my road as I turned on.  My neighbor also stated he saw a white pick up back into my driveway.  He just assumed i had "company".  Useless.  the neighbor. 

Police report filed.  Thankfully my friend Dan came here for support.  Sometimes you just need another human around you to sort through the crazy that has just upset your world.

Well I didn't mean to rehash the whole event in this post, rather to say... its been 5 days and .....   the nights are the worst.  I had a security system installed ASAP and of course the back door replaced...  but the anxiety left behind.  It is hard to describe it.  I feel like I am being watched all the time.  I feel like there is no safety right now.  I am "hyper aware".  That's the word all the articles I have read used.  I think it sums it up.  Hyper aware.  Which is exhausting.  But I can't sleep.  I can't sleep, eat, relax....   The articles also say this will pass with time.  I am counting on that.  The memory is still very fresh.  I replaced my stolen tv fairly ....... (just heard odd noise which to me sounded like a drill so I just had to check evey door in my house... )    quickly just so I wouldn't have to stare at the empty space. 

I wanted to record this process in the hopes that maybe someday it would help someone else.  I expect that several entries down the road I will be able to report some progress.  Some sense of security regained.  For right now I will have to be satisfied w/ having the alarm and a remote w/ a panic button (shades of that one actress from Panic Room).  

today's thought

i hate soup spoons. not that my mouth is by any definition "petite" but i have always found eating w/ a soup spoon leaves the corners of my lips feeling sore, like they've been repeatedly molested by a smarmy stainless steal jerk.

in normal life soup spoons are fairly easy to avoid, however to my horror today i realized our cafeteria has replaced all the real spoons w/ these wide oval bastards.

i hate soup spoons.

hows and also.... how

i remember writing witty emails was as easy as pissing back in the day. i was young. and coffee fueled. and sleep deprived. and mostly, not concerned with my future. now i find trying to write anything worth reading means sitting still long enough to capture my thoughts. more often than not that translates to realizing i think a lot of dumb thoughts. some what depressing actually.

I'll have two screwdrivers and one cheeto please from 2/4/2004

*dear reader, i have nothing original to say so I'm just posting old hilarious things I wrote from work in the past years*



Hmmm, I would say "sorry" to hear about the lay-off, but I guess "sorry the money situation isn't favorable" is probably more apropos. I was happy when I got laid off last February, until I had to start selling everything I owned to pay my rent.
Yes, unemployment is a wonderful thing.

Meanwhile, i think i am allergic to this sweater i've donned today. Let us examine the factoids. I have sneezed 38 times in two hours. and I can't stop itching. Maybe one of the brady boys slipped into my apartment last night and put itching powder on it.... darn those hooligans!

You should give the HideOut another chance. This dance party is being hosted by Pistil Magazine, who are mostly friends with us. It should be good. I understand the Hideout Dance party let down tho. I went about a month ago and it wasn't that good of music... and no one was break dancing.... what's the point. But I'm hoping this time will be better, plus i'll be wearing my knee pads...

Alrighty, maybe if you get to clean out zoo cages you will find lots of wallets of all the people who got push... uhm.... fell... all the people who fell into the tiger cages and stuff.... you know you gotta make your work work for you.

Can i get money for dumb catch phrases????

Letter to a Neil from 1/28/2004

Dear Neil Van Abso'deadly,

Did you ever wake up and find out that Wednesday had been manhandled and leaked all over your bathroom floor. Not only that, but you slip on the wednesday puddle in your groggy-eyed ignorance falling hard and whacking your head on many adjectives along the way. None of which can be used to describe picnics, by the way. But of course none of the whacks being hard enough to push you straight into Friday.

But enough. Time to put on my best ascetic smile and wait for the weekend ruckus to visit again. like the circus.....

Yes, I will definitely keep you apprised of my weekend plans, at this early stage nothing is set in stone yet other than I will probably be hanging with Bahareh at InnerTown at least one night. But all details will be revealed when we figure it out. Where do you live? I'm guessing perhaps up in the north area near Dave? But maybe you live over by UIC? Huh huh huh huh huh huh huh? Tell me!

Today's agenda:
1~Finish 20oz cup of coffee
2~Search nervously for change just in case i need more coffee
3~meet with boss at 11am to discuss how we will add the new Dental Stats to our monthly production
4~calm down from excitement of said meeting
5~?

Anything you can think of that I need to do?

Later toots.

town musicians from 5/26/2006

So, there was this crappy white utility van parked in front of my apartment for hours last night. The guts of which contained 2 hippy/mod effeminate boys. I know because, from what i could suss out at my 2nd floor vantage point, the van didn't appreciate their smell/look/lack of body fat and kept regurgitating them back onto the sidewalk. Inevitably, then, the long haired one would pick up a tambourine and start playing. The "soothing" Bob Dylan throwback noises apparently made the van hungry cuz soon, they both climbed back in. This whole process was repeated a bizarre number of times.

Let me be more specific. If this had happened 2 times it would be bizarre, but this happened 5 or 6 times in the course of 2 hours.

Ever curious, I kept trying new angles in my window to see if I could actually look into the pit of the van, but all i could see was what looked to be an open cell phone. That sorta of fuzzy blue light it gives off.

I hindsight i realize i should grabbed the 1/2 eaten cheese whopper on my kitchen counter, taken it downstairs & out the door, walked up to the van, opened the door and thrown it in.


I fell asleep watching Harry Potter : The Prisoner of Azkaban (you shall receive).
Hmm, how come no one else thinks that funny? What is wrong w/ you all?