Did you lose your house in the tornado? No problem, come join our drum circle. WTF?

Music Therapy Offered To Tornado Survivors

Today makes two weeks since many lives were turned upside down after April's tornadoes.
I thought it was April showers bring may flowers, not April tornados bring May psychos. But, you know whatever.

One business has come up with a way for those affected to relieve stress and begin to heal from dealing with so much devastation. Music therapy is the idea.
Wait, wait, wait … read what I read: “One business has come up with a way to drive more people into its store under the ruse of relieving stress and healing from so much devastation.”

Because the fact of the matter is this: whereas it’s a free service, and I’m sure people are enjoying it, it also drives more traffic into the store – and it generates publicity – both of which will pad the owner’s pockets.

The folks at Bailey Brothers Music Company are inviting tornado survivors to take part in a weekly drum circle.
Wait, a weekly drum circle. Is that like a circle jerk?

It allows survivors to clear their minds and hearts and let the beat of the rhythm take control.
Yeah, and so does Zumba. And sex. And running. And a bunch of other things.

A drum circle involves folks getting together and making music with drums and other percussion instruments.
Wait, wait, wait, you mean to tell me a drum circle involves people getting together and (wait for it), playing drums???? O.M.G.

You don't need to have any type of background in music. You just follow the directions of the person leading the drum circle which allows the group to create different types of beats.
However, you must have a sense of rhythm, which means cracker-white girls like myself are ousted at the door.

It involves some concentration because participants have to follow the hand movements of the leader.
Reference my earlier “circle jerk” comment and understand why I’m cracking up right now – so much so I can’t even insert a pithy comment.

It's enjoyable and the leader of Tuesday night's drum circle Pastor Fredrick Harris says the rhythm of the music gives a soothing affect and takes away a lot of stress.
Yeah, well, so does Xanex - or liquor - or both. It’s whatever.

Fredrick Harris said, "It paints a picture for you in your mind, just a getaway. There are times I've been playing and you're closing your eyes, just out there. It's fun and it gets them away from their troubles and problems just for a moment."
Yes, and then these people stand up all euphoric from your little drum circle jerk thingy, walk outside, look around and say, “Fuck, I don’t have a house to go home to. Dammit all to hell.”

It really is meant to be therapeutic at a time when many storm victims may be experiencing depression and grief.
Because apparently storm victims are the only people who can experience depression and grief. Do they stop you at the door?

Are you experiencing depression and grief?
No.
NEXT! Are you experiencing depression and grief?
Yes.
Why?
My dog just died.
NEXT! Are you experiencing depression and grief?
Yes.
Why?
I lost everything in the tornado and need to hang out in the A/C for an hour.
Come on in, pick a drum and sit down.

---
In all seriousness, before someone accuses me of being an “insenstitive piece of crap” again, it’s got to be insanely hard to lose everything like that. I’m not making light of that. I’m making light of the drum circle, not the situation itself.

And it’s nowhere near as funny when you have to explain it …

By request: Forget Y2K, the end of the world is in May!

Just in time to mark the 7,000^th anniversary of the flood – or is it Noah’s ability to build an ark? – we are going to have a giant party! The Rapture! Oh joy!

Now, look, let’s throw this out there – I went to church growing up, I have my beliefs and I consider myself a Christian. I am not a regular-my ass-sized-groove-in-the-pew-type going person. But I also believe that you can have faith without hauling yourself out of bed super-early on a Sunday morning. When your three-year-old demands waffles for breakfast – that sermon’s going to be preached with or without you there, and you best make with the waffles because you don’t want to endure that wrath.

*warning: religious content*

Here’s my mentality on it, based on what I learned in church. The Bible does not give a date. Jesus even said he didn’t know when it will be. Therefore we will not/cannot know.

*end religious content*

So I find it hard to believe some random dude running a radio station does. He just has money and the ability to broadcast his psychoticness.

Just saying...

However, NPR was nice enough to publish an article, and Julie was nice enough to share… the article itself is long, so I picked some of the high points (read, a close-up of each nutjob featured in the story).

Is The End Nigh? We'll Know Soon Enough

On May 21, "starting in the Pacific Rim at around the 6 p.m. local time hour, in each time zone, there will be a great earthquake, such as has never been in the history of the Earth," he says. The true Christian believers — he hopes he's one of them — will be "raptured": They'll fly upward to heaven. And for the rest?

"It's just the horror of horror stories," he says, "and on top of all that, there's no more salvation at that point. And then the Bible says it will be 153 days later that the entire universe and planet Earth will be destroyed forever."

Haubert is 33 and single. Brown is married with several young children, and none of them shares his beliefs. It's caused a rift with his wife — but he says that, too, was predicted in the Bible.

"God says, 'Do you love husband or wife over me? Do you love son or daughter over me?' There is a test. There is a trial here that the believers are going through. It's a fiery trial."

As May 21 nears, Brown says he feels as if he's on a "roller coaster." What if he is raptured but his family is left behind?

"I'm crying over my loved ones one minute; I'm elated the next minute," he says. "It's all over the place."

Where do you start with this? Okay, so I want to know the proof behind the earthquake in each time zone. If you’re studying what cryptic clues are in the Bible, let’s just point out that the time zones did not exist at that time. GMT, the universal “baseline” for time was not established until 1675, and the first “time zone” did not exist until 1847 as created by the British railway companies. So, yeah … just saying.

Alright, how about the “true Christian believers – and he hopes he’s one of them” line? Don’t you know if you’re a believer or not? Doesn’t the Bible say “whosoever believeth in Him shall have everlasting life?” I mean, does he have doubts in what he believes? Tsk, tsk. No rapture for you, crackpot!

His level of psychoticness caused a rift with his wife? Say it ain’t so!

“I’m crying over my loved ones one minute; I’m elated the next minute,” is his response to the question of how he will feel if he’s raptured but his (allegedly) heathen family isn’t. Somehow I think this dude would be the one ascending, looking down on everyone else left behind (family or otherwise) saying, “Sorry ‘bout your luck.”

Moving onto other psychos…

"Knowing the date of the end of the world changes all your future plans," says 27-year-old Adrienne Martinez.

She thought she'd go to medical school, until she began tuning in to Family Radio. She and her husband, Joel, lived and worked in New York City. But a year ago, they decided they wanted to spend their remaining time on Earth with their infant daughter.

"My mentality was, why are we going to work for more money? It just seemed kind of greedy to me. And unnecessary," she says.

And so, her husband adds, "God just made it possible — he opened doors. He allowed us to quit our jobs, and we just moved, and here we are."

Now they are in Orlando, in a rented house, passing out tracts and reading the Bible. Their daughter is 2 years old, and their second child is due in June. Joel says they're spending the last of their savings. They don't see a need for one more dollar.

"You know, you think about retirement and stuff like that," he says. "What's the point of having some money just sitting there?"

"We budgeted everything so that, on May 21, we won't have anything left," Adrienne adds.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Did this woman just say they budgeted all their money so that, come May 21, 2011, they won’t have anything left? Is she fucking stupid? (It’s a rhetorical question.)

Let’s back up to the beginning and try to digest a little bit at a time.

"Knowing the date of the end of the world changes all your future plans.”

Umm, sweetheart, if you know when the end of the world is going to be, you have no future plans. None of us do.

She thought she'd go to medical school, until she began tuning in to Family Radio.

So, wait, you decided not to go to medical school because you just happened to hear on the radio that the world was going to end in May 2011? WHAT????????? I’ve also heard on the radio about the Loch Ness Monster but that’s not going to stop me from going to Scotland someday.

"My mentality was, why are we going to work for more money? It just seemed kind of greedy to me. And unnecessary," she says.
Um, because we need money to survive in this world. Even if we’re just surviving until 5/21/2011. Plus, sweetheart, welcome to America, where he who has the most money gets the most respect.

Their daughter is 2 years old, and their second child is due in June.
Well, if the Rapture does, in fact, happen on 5/21/2011 (hahahahahaha), that second child is sort of moot, isn’t it?

If the Rapture doesn’t happen, the poor child doesn’t have anything going for it, does it? Its parents are willingly-unemployed psychotic people will be on the street corner, panhandling, with a sign that reads, “Oops, the world didn’t end yet. Need money, need food.”

"We budgeted everything so that, on May 21, we won't have anything left," Adrienne adds.
On May 22, we’re all going to be pointing and laughing.

And now, who is behind Crackpot Door #3 – none other than the man who predicted this mess, himself.

Camping is not the first person to fix a date for the end of the world. There have been dozens of such prophets, and so far, they've all been wrong.

Camping himself has had to do some recalculation. He first predicted the end would come Sept. 6, 1994. He now explains that he had not completed his biblical research.

"For example, I at that time had not gone through the Book of Jeremiah," he explains, "which is a big book in the Bible that has a whole lot to say about the end of the world."

So he's not planning for May 22?

"Absolutely not," Camping says. "It is going to happen. There is no Plan B."

I've asked a dozen of Camping's followers the same question. Everyone said even entertaining the possibility that May 21 would come and go without event is an offense to God. They all hope they'll be raptured. Some worry about being left behind.

"If I'm here on May 22, and I wake up, I'm going to be in hell," says Brown. "And that's where I don't want to be. So there is going to be a May 22, and we don't want to be here."

On the other hand, he will presumably have lots of company.

Of course he’s been wrong before. So has everyone else. Case and point, Wiki points these failures out:

• 1844 - William Miller predicted Christ would return between March 21, 1843 and March 21, 1844, then revised his prediction, claiming to have miscalculated Scripture, to October 22, 1844. The realization that the predictions were incorrect resulted in a Great Disappointment. Miller's theology gave rise to the Advent movement. The Baha'is believe that Christ did return as Miller predicted in 1844, with the advent of The Báb, and numerous Miller-like prophetic predictions from many religions are given in William Sears book, Thief in The Night.
• 1914, 1918, 1925, 1942 and 1975 - Dates set for the end by the Jehovah's Witnesses
• 1981 - Chuck Smith predicted that Jesus would probably return by 1981.
• 1988 - Publication of 88 Reasons why the Rapture is in 1988, by Edgar C. Whisenant.
• 1989 - Publication of The final shout: Rapture report 1989, by Edgar Whisenant. More predictions by this author appeared for 1992, 1995, and other years.
• 1992 - Korean group "Mission for the Coming Days" predicted October 28, 1992 as the date for the rapture.
• 1993 - Seven years before the year 2000. The rapture would have to start to allow for seven years of the Tribulation before the Return in 2000. Multiple predictions.
• 1994 - Pastor John Hinkle of Christ Church in Los Angeles predicted June 9, 1994. Radio evangelist Harold Camping predicted September 6th, 1994.
• 2011 - Harold Camping's revised prediction has May 21, 2011 as the date of the rapture.
• 2060 - Sir Isaac Newton proposed, based upon his calculations using figures from the book of Daniel, that the Apocalypse could happen no earlier than 2060.

There is no Plan B? (I want to make a morning after pill joke here, but I just … it’s just too easy. Insert your own joke here.)

See, here’s the thing, and I’ve believed this for a long time. Every few years God and Jesus have this conversation that goes something like this:

God: So, Son, you ready to go back?

Jesus: Do I have to? I mean, I don’t wanna get crucified again, that was so 2,000 years ago.

God: No, this time won’t be so bad.

Jesus: Okay, whatever you say.

*the Earth News Network comes on – headline “Man Determines the Apocalypse Is Next Week”*

God: You want to make them wait a little bit longer? Prove they don’t know it all?

Jesus: Alright by me. Your turn in Wii Bowling, by the way. 

 

Now, should the Rapture actually occur as planned, there is one burning question (just one?) left – whatever are you going to do with your pets? After all, they aren’t being Raptured with you.

Lucky for you, the answer is out there: After The Rapture Pet Care 

What is this? The short version is, a group of volunteers who do not believe in the Rapture who, after you make the initial $10 donation and register your pets, will come to your house and adopt and care for your pets in your absence.

In theory, it’s a great idea. I mean, I have Oscar willed to someone should something happen to both me and Scott (and in reality, if it didn’t cost $150 to update the wills, we’d add Tona to that now). That being said, just tell me when the next couple estimations for Rapture are, and I promise, the night before, I’ll leave an envelope by the door bearing all my cash that reads, “In case of Rapture – for Oscar, Tona, Booger and Demon.”

--

Because no post about the end of the world would be complete without it - I must include some REM.

Customer Service - or not

Stupid TigerDirect.com. Ugh.

Scott got it in my head we should get Galaxy tablets. I’m all for that. A new toy, hell yeah. So, I go out searching for the WiFi model because, well, I already pay a small fortune to Sprint every month for the phones, I don’t need to add anymore to that monthly raping.

I decide on TigerDirect because it ships same day, I had the option to bump it up to Two Day shipping for next to nothing, and, most importantly, I could use my BillMeLater. This is important. Not because I don’t have the money (well, not for both – but for one, yes) … but rather this is the ONLY form of payment I currently have access to since ALL of my cards (debit and credit) are currently unavailable since reporting them as stolen on Thursday and I haven’t received replacements yet.

So, I place the order, it goes through, woohoo!!!

I got on TigerDirect’s website late last night and it said it was pending for credit authorization. Alright, I’m not sure what exactly that means, but maybe it was a BillMeLater thing, so I let it slide. Didn’t think anything of it.

This morning I get on TigerDirect’s website to see if they had shipped yet. No, they had not. In fact, my order status was listed as “Cancelled.” No explanation, just cancelled. Worse yet, I had to find that out by going to the site, they didn’t even have the DECENCY to e-mail me to tell me this.

I went to BillMeLater’s site and the charge was listed on my account as pending, so obviously there was no problem with the BillMeLater account (which, might I add, I used successfully just a couple weeks ago). I even called BillMeLater to make sure, and she assured me everything was fine with the account.

Not that I have testicles, but you get the idea...

So, I called TigerDirect’s customer service to find out what the hell was going on. The girl was about worthless. “It says your order was cancelled.”

Well, no shit Sherlock. Tell me something I don’t know. “Can you tell me why it was cancelled?”

“No, it doesn’t say, just that it was cancelled.”

“Okay, well, what do I do to fix it?”

“You can try placing the order again.”

Are you freakin’ kidding me? Just to go through all this again? Nope, went out and bought it from another site (which, unfortunately for me, is “powered” by TigerDirect, so I’m still at their mercy).

I subsequently sent the following e-mail to TigerDirect.

"I ordered a router and two Galaxy WiFi only tablets yesterday, thrilled that I was able to find them. Even better was the fact I could have them shipped immediately and for a reasonable price.

Imagine my dismay when I logged in to check the status of my order and found it was cancelled. No reason, just cancelled. (Last night I saw it was under credit review, which made little sense to me considering I have used BillMeLater in the past with no problems. The credit is available and has been used previously. I digress.)

I called customer support to find out what was going on and how I could fix it. The girl was less-than-helpful, telling me she saw it was cancelled - well, no duh, I knew that, that's why I called. She said she didn't know why and that I could try to re-order it.

As if. As much as I have always loved TigerDirect in the past, this has put a sour taste in my mouth. My order was cancelled when there was more than enough credit on the account used to cover the cost. My order was cancelled by TigerDirect and you didn't even have the decency to e-mail me to tell me. And your customer support just told me what I already knew. Why the hell would I call if I wanted them to rehash what I knew?

Before even calling customer support, I went to BillMeLater to make sure there were no problems with the account and it showed that a $XXX purchase was made from TigerDirect - so obviously the problem is not with BillMeLater. And if it is, they neglected to tell me too, and I will write them a nasty e-mail too. I have good credit, I always pay my bills, and I find it a bit ridiculous that it is this difficult to buy a Galaxy tablet. I mean - honestly.

My going to a different site (even if it is powered by you guys - only because you have a monopoly over my ability to purchase a WiFi only Galaxy tablet at the moment) will not break you. Nor will my expression of disgust to my friends and family. But rest assured, I'm not happy.”

And this is what I get in response:

“Dear Valued Customer:

Thank you for your e-mail.

Please accept our sincerest apologies for any inconvenience that may have caused you. We value your comments and suggestions, and they will be forwarded to the proper department. We constantly strive for customer satisfaction and hope this incident will not change your opinion of our company. Again, we apologize and thank you for your time and patience.

Thank you for visiting our website. We appreciate your business. If you have further inquiries and reply to this email, please make sure to include your entire message, so we can address it appropriately.

Sincerely,
Felben
TigerDirect.com Web Response”

Uhh, too late.

Never going back to TigerDirect if I can help it. Thankyouverymuch.

Happy Mother's Day

A little over three years ago, I was awarded a new title. No, I was not named the “Duchess of Cambridge” or the “Duchess of Cornwall.” Even better, I was awarded the title of “Mom.” 

Never the maternal type, I was scared. I mean, I didn’t earn this title (unless you count nine month of pregnancy and 15 hours of contractions and a huge dose of Pitocin that didn’t work and an epidural that fell out and had to be administered a second time), why was I entrusted with this person?

Newsflash – God knows what he’s doing. Because this little person gave me a sense of worth I never thought I’d get. 

Does she drive me absolutely freakin’ insane?? Of course she does. That’s God’s lesson in humility and patience. (And, I think, quite frankly, his daily dose of pleasure.)

She also loves me unconditionally. Nothing, and I mean nothing, makes my day more than her huge smile when she sees me after a day at daycare and running at me full-blast to give me a hug and a kiss. When I tell her I love her, she responds with “Love you too.” Nothing can top that. Ever. 

It makes me proud to watch her grow and learn. The pride when she does something insanely intelligent is amazing. I mean, I used to thrive on always being right and hearing someone tell me I was intelligent or good at something. I don’t care anymore. Just tell me my child is intelligent and that’s all I need to hear. It’s no longer about me.

Truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Leopards never change their spots (haha, and neither will I)

Child attacked by leopard at Kansas zoo

A child on a school outing was attacked by a leopard at a Wichita, Kansas, zoo, authorities said Friday.
Can you imagine the conversation that night over the dinner table?

“So, sweetheart, how was your field trip to the zoo? Did you see anything cool?”
“I saw lions, tigers, and a kid get mauled by a leopard. It was awesome.”

The boy, a student from Linwood Elementary, was with classmates on a field trip at the Sedgwick County Zoo when, around 1:15 p.m., witnesses said, he "went over a railing" and approached the Amur leopard exhibit, said Lt. Jay McLaurian of the county sheriff's department.
First of all, that sentence is just freakin’ awful. I seriously think I’m going to go into convulsions after reading that – it’s the written equivalent of a strobe light.

Second … “went over a railing.” That just leads to way too many questions. Did he think it was a good idea to go over it willingly? Was he pushed? Was he leaning too far and just fell?

Then again, you know, perhaps he said, “Hey y’all, watch this,” right beforehand. It would be fitting.

The leopard was able to reach into the mesh covering of its enclosure and grab the boy by his head, McLaurian said.
Chomp!

I love the phrasing here (read: hate) – the leopard was able to … um, no dumbass, the leopard was not only able to, the leopard did.

The child was rescued by bystanders who rushed in and "beat the animal" away from the boy, officials said. According to McLaurian, the boy received injuries to his face and neck and was taken to a hospital for treatment.
Beat the animal away from the boy? Really? Was it like an angry mob with sticks? Umm, hello, did any of you think that, possibly, maybe, if you pissed that leopard off that you might be next?

He is expected to "be OK," McLaurian said.
What awkward sentence structure. I mean, to put quotes around just “be OK.” But how reassuring that he is expected to be OK, I mean, wouldn’t it suck to be like, “Well, yeah, we got him there, but we don’t expect him to make it through the night.”

The boy, who is 7 years old, was in fair condition Friday afternoon at Via Christi Hospital on St. Francis in Wichita, CNN affiliate KWCH said.
Just fair? He’s expected to be OK but he’s only in fair condition? I would have expected good or stable or something. To me, fair is one step above critical or serious. Well, you know, it is Kansas, what do they know there other than wheat farming?

Students from several Sedgwick County schools were at the zoo on Friday and witnessed the attack, and the school district immediately took steps to notify parents, according to Susan Arensman, spokeswoman for Wichita Schools.
What involved notifying parents? Sending home a letter?

“Dear parents:
Today, while your child was on a field trip to the local zoo, your child may have witnessed various wild animals and an incident of ‘When Animals Attack.’ Be prepared for awkward dinner conversation and possible nightmares. Rest assured, though, the child attacked by a wild animal is in the hospital, in fair condition, and is expected to be OK. No harm, no foul.
Sincerely,
The Wichita City Public School System"

"One of our first-graders was injured by one of the animals," a letter that was sent home to parents whose children attended the same school as the victim read.
Oh, man, that sort of takes the fun out of the previous smart-assed comment. Dammit.

A similar letter was also sent home to parents from other Wichita schools.
Oh, yay, trees killed mercilessly. And how much you want to bet the letter wasn’t even read by 95 percent of the parents. God knows I hardly ever gave papers to my parents unless, of course, their being signed was part of my homework credit or something. Ever the over-achiever, I would always make sure I did that. Yep, loser, I know.

Shortly after the attack, school officials assembled a crisis team to help the students process what happened, and assure them that the victim would be OK, said Arensman.
A crisis team, really? 

"Counselors will also be available on Monday to offer additional help to students," Arensman said.
Counselors. Honestly? Is this really necessary?

“I just can’t concentrate on my math. Every time I look at those numbers, I think of Jimmy – he loved math – and I see his head as a snack for that giant cat. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do math again.”

The zoo was evacuated for a short time after the attack but remained opened after the incident, officials said.
Evacuated? Because a leopard noshed on a kid’s head THROUGH some netting? First of all, the leopard got the snack it so desperately wanted, so I’m sure it wasn’t really a threat with a full belly. In fact, it probably just wanted a nap after that. Second, it’s not like it was free-range, running through the zoo. The story gave no indication it ate through the mesh surrounding it, so I doubt it was a threat to anyone.

Amur leopards, which are listed as an endangered species, can grow to 4 to 6½ feet long and weigh anywhere from 60 to 150 pounds, the zoo's website says. They are native to Far Eastern Russia and northern China.
Wait, they are an endangered species – isn’t beating an animal on the endangered species list  a crime? Uh oh, look out – you guys may have saved that kid, but committed a crime in the process. Last I knew, seven-year-olds were not an endangered species … I’m just saying. (Okay, it was a joke, relax.)

Follow-up to the great adventure involving doctors, delinquents and cops from yesterday

“She’s a lot more calm than most.” – the cop, talking to Scott, about me

I love this, because the irony in the quote cracks me up. Where was I when they had this conversation? I was in the back getting a shot in my ass (literally) of Torodol to combat the migraine I had just developed. Which is why Scott’s response was, “She just internalizes.”

I asked the doctor to give me something, a sample of Maxalt laying around the office, a shot, I didn’t care. The nurse is like, “Do you want us to just call you something in?” I was like, “Umm, I have Maxalt at home. I just don’t have a way to get it!” Held hostage at the doctor’s office! However, seeing as how I was able to get the “good” meds as a result, I was held hostage in the best place possible.

Alright, well, here are a few of the most commonly asked questions I've received...

So, did you get your stuff back?

Well, the day of, we found my nook case and wristlet at the bottom of a drainage pipe, both empty.

The cards and the car keys were never recovered. The Nook, however, has been returned to me.

I got a call from the cop at 8 a.m., telling me he has the Nook back. He also told me the story went that the grandma told her thieving granddaughter to give it to her so she could turn it over to the police. Thieving granddaughter refuses. Grandma has to pay thieving granddaughter $100 before she will hand over the Nook, whereupon grandma gives it to the police.

Which leads into … do you believe that story?

Hell no I don’t believe it. Nor does the cop. But what are you going to do?

Of course, I told him (and he agrees), that grandma shouldn’t have forked over the money, should have let thieving  bitch rot in jail. Who the hell holds their grandmother captive for $100 to DO THE RIGHT THING? The cops obviously KNEW she did it, they could very easily find her and retrieve it from her, while also hauling her to Scott County Detention Center – so, yeah … apparently I don’t understand what runs through peoples’ minds sometimes. (Apparently grandma was doing everything in her power to keep her granddaughter from going to jail. Uhh… yeah, no. Let her go. Yeah, you might have to be in charge of her bratty kids while she’s doing time, is that what your problem is?)

Did I press charges?

Given the fact my Nook was returned, he asked if I still wanted to press charges. I would like to see this dumbass bitch go to jail, but not enough to go through the mental anguish of pressing charges over a $200 piece of technology. It’s just not worth it. (Now, had something happened to my car – I’d be screaming something different. And something very well still could happen to my car, and my mind will change very quickly.)

Why am I so laid back about this? In the end, she’ll get judged – by her family, by anyone who faces her again at that office (believe me, none of them took well to this, they won’t like seeing her again), and by whatever deity she believes in. She’ll get hers somewhere along the line. I don’t need to be the first lining up to seek justice. More than anything, you have to feel sorry for her kids, who are growing up with this type of trash as a role model. Wow.

What did my mom have to say?

God love my mother, who lacks compassion (I inherited that, though not quite to her level – though, I admit, there are times she’s compassionate and I wouldn’t be) asks me, “And what did we learn from this?”

*pause*

“To always pick your stuff up and take it with you.”

Thanks Mom. Love you!

She’s got a point, I should have taken my stuff with me. But I was going to a desk not 20 feet away. I didn’t really think it was an issue. I had a couple other people talk to me later and they were like, “I would have done the same thing.”

Why are you selling the Nook?

So, we found the awesome Nook case at the bottom of the ditch. The Nook was returned this morning. But I have decided – and Scott backs me up on this – that I’m going to sell it. I know what you’re asking, why? After all, the Nook still works.

WELL … the most disheartening thing about the Nook case was the fact that it’s at the bottom of the pipe, face down (which means the picture of my kiddo is face down in the mud). I mean, granted, it’s just a “thing” and is not my child, it still sucks. When I think of it, the only vision I have is that Nook case face down in the mud. Therefore, I will be replacing it, as opposed to cleaning it and keeping it. Yes, I’m crazy, I’m aware most of you don’t get it, but that’s okay.

As far as the Nook is concerned – I have already had it blacklisted from my account. Basically, no more book purchases can be made from that serial number by my account. So, I have to essentially start over anyway. Plus, I don’t know what this bitch intended to do – read what I had on there, sell it (I would have thought she would have already pawned it to be honest), or take it in a field and beat it with a baseball bat thinking, “Take that white girl I don’t know.” I don’t know. Nor do I want to know. But just like my case, it’s tainted. It’s just not the same. Nothing is wrong with it, it still works. I just don’t want it. So I’ll sell it to someone who does and go get a replacement.

Side note, we had a debate over upgrading to a Nook color or replacing it with itself, and I’m leaning in the direction of sticking with the tried-but-true e-ink version. After all, I can always read on my phone too, and I don’t need the same basic back-lit interface on both devices. Defeats the purpose.

I don’t expect everyone to get my desire to replace my Nook. That’s okay. Just don’t judge me for it. Thank God for being employed and having the ability to make this decision.

What was in your wallet?

My wallet was simply a Vera Bradley wristlet, it didn’t hold a lot. There were no checks or anything, thank God for that. But it did have: two debit cards (one to each one of my banks), my Kohl’s card, my Maurice’s card (which I JUST GOT the day before), my Bank of America credit card, one of Scott’s credit cards, a Wal-Mart gift card (no worries, it was in-store credit from a return and only had like $12 on it), the key to our room in Disney World, and two Photo Pass cards from Disney.

My license was in my hand, as I needed it to check in, so that’s something. And my phone was with me, otherwise she’d have that too, and then someone might have to hold me back, because taking away my phone is not cool.

What all was on the keys?

My car key and remote, my house key, my mailbox key, the key to Scott’s dad’s Dodge pickup, a key to my old house in Virginia Beach, a ring Scott gave me YEARS ago that I can no longer wear because of the fact it’s bent out of shape because I dropped a car battery on it, a giant blue horse I bought at Keeneland, and all my shopping cards that I have neglected to scan into the app on my phone and I am currently kicking myself for that fact.

Was your car messed with in any way?

No, my car was left alone. Now, that’s not who is to say that it won’t remain that way – after all, my car keys are God knows where (and he’s not telling me at this point) and all someone has to do is wander a parking lot hitting the panic button to find it. I do not like the fact that this is a possibility. I mean, what are the odds this moron will find my car in the parking lot at work in Lexington? Slim. However, you know, it is also seen all over Georgetown. I think we will be using Scott’s car more regularly until my keys are returned to me.

What are you grateful for in all of this?

There are actually a lot of things I’m grateful for…

I *think*the Photo Passes expire after 30 days, so the pictures shouldn’t be online. So, assuming she’s smart enough, she shouldn’t be able to get online to see “Ohh, what this poor sap look like, and her family and how can I torment them more?”

That I have a job, and we have enough money that I can replace my Nook. That Scott’s understanding enough of my crazy delusions to let me do that, no questions asked.

That Jocelyn wasn’t with me. Who is to say that this would have happened if she was there? (Probably still, she would have taken off to play somewhere.) But I would not have been near as calm and collected as I was if I had to deal with her too. Plus, I’d totally be in protective mama mode, so who knows what would have come out of my mouth in that mode. (Of course, it is food for thought to think that, had I had her with me, I wouldn’t have had my Nook. Wallet still probably would have gone missing.)

I’m grateful there were witnesses. Even if the cop didn’t get to talk to them until this chick managed to skip off, at least people saw her and that’s why we were able to recover what we did.

I’m grateful the grandma is pissed. Good. There are times the wrath of grandma/mom is worse than anything you may get in a court of law.

I’m grateful I took my phone up to the counter with me (as I was waiting on a text with the insurance cards in it). Otherwise this bitch would have my phone too. You know I wouldn’t be getting that back. That’s worth more than the Nook.

I’m grateful it happened at the doctor’s office, so when the migraine hit, I was able to get meds for it.

I’m grateful we had an extra set of keys. (Even if Scott didn’t, I had the valet key at the house, so the car could have been driven home regardless.) Like hell I would have left it.

I’m grateful I was able to remain calm and collected and not flip out. Had I turned into a total bitch, I’m sure the cop would have been less likely to help me. I mean, yeah, it’s his job, but he could be an asshole to me, cops like to play those mental games with people. I’ve seen it happen.

I’m grateful that my husband bought me pizza for dinner and a huge chocolate bar. Comfort food. Yum. (Side note, I have not eaten the huge chocolate bar yet.)

Oh, that if I *did* end up having to press charges (read: something DOES end up happening to my car), I have plenty of lawyer friends to call. The most likely candidate - Brady. Because he would so love this one. (Come on, Scott, tell me you disagree!)

What’s the biggest pain in the ass right now?

One – I just got the remote for my car fixed two weeks ago. TWO WEEKS AGO! It cost $80. And what good did that serve me? To make it easier to find my car for this bitch? I half wish I hadn’t done it yet so she could walk right by my car and never know because the old remote didn’t work.

Two – I still worry about her finding my car. Calm and collected will go out the window. I am so close to getting it paid off - don't think I won't be pissed beyond belief if my car gets messed up right as I get it paid off. Heaven help her.

Three  – I had to cancel all my cards. Until the new debit cards come in, I have no way to pay for anything. Sigh.And once they do come in, I have to set up all my automatic bill pay that used my debit cards (like the Sprint bill and the alarm system, etc.).

Four – I just, out-and-out, feel violated. I mean, of all the places in all the world, a doctor’s office? I mean, come on, I’m obviously there because I’m sick (sinus infection, thankyouverymuch), and you want to go add insult to injury? Fuck you. I hope you get violated and see how much you like it.

Let’s see if I can make an analogy. My mom’s car was stolen. It was recovered and fixed. The day after we got it back, my mom traded it in. She said it didn’t drive right. She’s probably right, it didn’t, not after that much damage was fixed. But at the same time, do you really think you’d want to drive a car that two teenage brats decided to take for a joyride? God knows I wouldn’t – it just wouldn’t be the same, whether they wrecked it and it was repaired, or it turns out they were the best drivers in the world. It’s just the fact that someone, who wasn’t you, took your stuff as their own. (And threw a picture of your daughter down a drain pipe, to boot.)

The whole story behind the status update of "F$%k me."

Seriously, sometimes you just have to sit back and ask yourself, “why me.” I mean, honestly. I’m a decent person. I think. I hope.

Started coming down with the start of a sinus infection, so I stayed home from work today so I could go to the doctor.

Now, let’s throw this out there – I love my doctor, been seeing her since 2003. On Monday of this week, she left the office she’d been in for about five years for a new office space, affiliated with UK Healthcare. I’ve dealt with the new call center twice this week and I was not happy either time. So, I walked in and saw Susan, the receptionist and immediately said, “I don’t like the new call center,” and she laughed and said, “Nobody does.” Ha! At least it’s not just me.

Due to the new transition, they handed me a giant clipboard full of stuff to fill out. Information I know they’ve had for years, but because it was a new computer system, I had to fill out again. Alright. And I needed my insurance card and photo ID when I returned it.

I go sit down, and set my car keys, Vera Bradley wristlet and my Nook (in it’s very awesome Nook case featuring a picture of my very photogenic daughter) down on the chair next to me and start telling UK Healthcare my name, address, employer, mother’s maiden name, father’s name (what the hell do they need that info for, especially because he’s been dead for a year and a half!), and other information that, I guess, proves I am who I am. I lost my insurance card a couple months ago, so I asked Scott to take a pic of his and text it to me so they could get the information. (Gotta love technology.)

As soon as I’m done signing my name on the line almost as many times as I did in the refinance paperwork, I head up to the desk with my clipboard, license and phone so I can finish checking in. I leave my wristlet, keys and Nook sitting on the chair, as I’m only walking about 20 feet away and am in plain sight of it the whole time.

Well, while I’m in the process of waiting on the girls to get their acts together to take my stuff, I glance over my shoulder. The chair that held my stuff was surprisingly empty. I looked around me, did I carry it to the desk with me and forgot? No. I just, in passing say, “Hey, my wallet’s gone.” Of course, the girls at the desk freak out and start asking questions. I go back to where I was and look all around, nowhere to be found. I ask the older couple that was sitting there, “Wasn’t my stuff right there?” The older man says, “I saw someone who was sitting at the end pick some stuff up.” Nice.

Now I will give you the God’s honest truth, I didn’t pay attention to the person on my left while I was signing my life away to UK Healthcare. So I don’t remember a thing about her, except for the fact it was a female. I couldn’t even tell you if she was black or white.

Apparently the old man immediately pointed to an older black lady on the other side of the divider and said something about how it was her. I know she didn’t move the whole time I was there, and that old woman is going off showing the insides of her purse, cursing, showing off the insides of the purse of the girl with her, etc. I said, “I didn’t accuse anyone, I just noticed my stuff went missing.” She goes, “But he did.”

Well, at that point, my name was called to go back. The office manager says she’ll call the police. I almost looked at her and said, “You know, this really isn’t important enough to get them involved.” But I figured I’d be quiet and let them do their thing. One of the other girls at the desk told me that I was amazingly more calm than I should have been. Eh, what was I going to do?

Renee, my nurse, went to weigh me and I was like, “Do I have to?” She laughed and said, that no, after what just happened, she’d let me out of it. (I got on the scale at home this morning. It was not a nice number. I don’t want to share that number with anyone, especially my doctor.)

So, we go into the room, and she does my BP, which, understandably is high, and we ran through the usual “why are you here,” bit. Then I cracked up laughing and said, “You know what’s really funny? I hope to God the person who took my Nook was a flaming liberal because I had the George W. and Laura Bush books on there.” She found that funny. (As did my doctor when I told her.) Here’s what’s kind of funny, while Renee and I were in there, a lady was out walking in the back and actually waved at us from outside. Renee was kind of confused because she goes, “They aren’t supposed to be able to look in.” Yeah, well, it seemed a bit odd she was back there anyway, but, what are you going to do?

My doctor comes in, and first off offers me a Xanex, which I shrug off. Eh. Stuff happens. We get down to the reason I’m there, which she confirms my suspicions, sinus infection. Yay! As we get ready to leave, I realize my car keys are among the missing items (why it didn’t hit me before then, I do not know).

My doctor gives me a hug as we’re walking down the hall and, once again, offers me a Xanex. I turn her down. Again.

The office manager then takes me to the break room where I’m, essentially, held hostage for about 20 minutes before the cop comes back to talk to me. Why they wouldn’t let me out to make sure my car was still in the parking lot (as was my fear as soon as I realized my keys were MIA), or anything else, was frustrating. But I used that time to text my friends and fill them in on what was going on. And lamented with one of the employees about how “this is Georgetown, this kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen in Georgetown.”

So, the cop finally comes back and talks to me – there’s a few miscommunciations going on – he thought it was a purse, to tell him I had a Vera Bradley wristlet was sort of over his head. When I said I had a Nook, he was just like, “A what?” Once I likened it to a Kindle, he was like, “oh.” He even asked me what it was worth and I told him and he goes, “The same as a Kindle.” Well, yeah. The biggest thing to me about the Nook was the fact I just got a new Nook case, and as such, had a picture of it on my phone, so I could at least show him that.

So, we go out and he wants me to show him where it happened, which I did, and then we went in the back again. This is when he tells me that he’s pretty sure he knows who did it, but he had nothing on her to prove it. He did stop and question her, and searched her car, but couldn’t find anything and she said she had to leave to go get her kid. He said she swore she’d be back. (Guess what, we left two hours later and she hadn’t returned yet. Weird, huh? Yeah, didn’t think so.) He believed her because her grandma was still at the office and she was grandma’s ride. (Side note, Grandma was the older lady who cursed and swore she had nothing to do with it.)

The cop walked me around the building and told me how someone said they saw this woman and her son digging, and burying stuff, in the new landscaping. But he took his baton and sifted through the mulch and came up with nothing. Then we walked a little further and said someone else said they saw this woman with a handful of credit cards – a green one on top – trying to stuff them between the sidewalk and the dirt of the yard. (I laughed and said, “yep, definitely mine, I just put the green card in my wallet this morning .” I just got it. It’s a Maurice’s store credit card.) Then he walked over to the drainage pipe and said they’ve been looking around in it, but it was full of water and had two paths off of it, so if they threw something in there, he didn’t know where it could have gone. There was a horse in a field next to the office and I said, “Hey, the horse saw it, someone go ask him!” The cop laughed and goes, “Yeah, Mr. Ed.”

So, he and I walked around told me that yet ANOTHER witness saw her digging around in the rocks. I looked at him and said, “Well, we saw her outside the window while I was back to see the doctor and she waved at us.” He goes, “Weird.” Of course she waved. The only other thing she could have done that was more appropriate was flick me off.

So, we saw another drainage pipe, but there was nothing down there. There was a third one, and he shines his flashlight and goes, “Hey, do you know what that is?” Down at the bottom of the drainage pipe was my Nook case. Face down, but I knew it was my Nook case. It was a little too deep for him to get to the bottom, but luckily there were builders working on a building next door who helped us fish it out. (No, they didn’t see anything, so they were no real help as far as that’s concerned.) They fished it out, and my beautiful Nook case, featuring my gorgeous daughter, is now covered in mud, is wet, and is (unsurprisingly) empty. My wristlet was down there – also empty. Car keys still missing. Of course.

Two office workers, the cop, and I traipse around the field behind the office looking for the keys, thinking they could have been tossed out there, but the fact is, if they were, there wasn’t a shot in hell we’d find them. (Which, let’s throw this one out there – it would have been really easy to find my car. Hit the panic button and see which one went off. But she apparently didn’t do that, because everything in my car was untouched. And she best be grateful cause if she stole – or messed with my car in any way – I would be ready to kill.)

So, after all that, and after I talk to Scott and he’s on his way to come get me (because, after all, I can’t take my car anywhere without keys – but he’s got a spare key, so it’s not like we couldn’t get the car home – so nah, nah on that bitch who thought she might be able to steal my car later). I head back into the office to give them the insurance card that finally came through e-mail, and ask if the doctor would be willing to give me something for my migraine. Walk in with a sinus infection, walk out with a migraine. Woohoo! (They did end up giving me a shot of Torodol, God love them.)

Afterwards, the police officer informs me he does know who did it, he’s got enough on her, and knows she’s on probation. He said that, if the items are not returned to him by 8 a.m. tomorrow, he’s got enough for a warrant, if nothing else, but he assured me she would be going to jail. Woohoo.

He even told Scott while I was in the back getting my shot that I was a lot calmer than most. Scott told him it wasn’t that, but that I internalize stuff. Yeah, I do. But honestly, what good would it have done me to start pointing fingers and flip out? It’s just stuff. In reality, I’ll get a new Nook – I’ve cancelled all the credit/debit cards that were in my wallet – the only thing I’m even remotely pissed about at this point is a) my beautiful Nook case is now tainted and b) I WANT MY CAR KEYS! I just got the remote working a week and a half ago, dammit!

So, now I just sit back to wait to hear from the cop tomorrow.

It is important to note, when we left, the grandma did come up and apologize profusely to me. I said, “This stuff happens.” She goes, “No, not with her.” Um, apparently, yes, with her. I really didn’t know what to say. I mean, what did she want from me? She didn’t take it, she didn’t owe me an apology. Her grandkid’s a fuck-up, not really her fault. The police are involved, and therefore, it’s beyond my control. Did she want me to take pity and say I wasn’t going to let him take her granddaughter in? Not gonna happen. Enjoy the cell, babe. I’ll wave at you from outside.