tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78269774589918545512024-03-04T12:23:33.729-08:00Raquel's WorldA humorous, opinionated yet insightful view on life, teenagers, kids, working. Here I share some of my day to day interactions and trust me its not as boring as it sounds. Check it out!Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.comBlogger217125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-89681315228739774142012-03-13T07:26:00.000-07:002012-03-13T07:26:44.439-07:00My Trip To The Local High School Cafeteria<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I needed to pick my son up early from school one day. I arrived at the high school and was directed to the attendance office. There I am informed that he is at lunch. I say okay and have a seat while I wait for him to show up. After about 15 minutes or so I notice 3 other kids have came and left after me. I ask the lady at the desk if my son is coming. She says "no he has lunch, we cannot call for him." I ask "well how do I get him?" She says "you have to go and look for him." That answer annoys me but I head on over to the cafeteria. It's been a <i>couple</i> years since I have visited a high school cafeteria. There are hundreds of teens with attitudes and piercings and so on. I approach the cafeteria door where is a staff member standing guard. I tell him I am looking for my son. He says go on in and look around?? WTF?? There are hundreds of kids in there!</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RJLSwrzEsnk/T1jkmMmd_5I/AAAAAAAAAmw/orpZ9RTmNeU/s1600/cafeteria.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RJLSwrzEsnk/T1jkmMmd_5I/AAAAAAAAAmw/orpZ9RTmNeU/s320/cafeteria.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Look around??" I enter and walk around looking for my son. I, amongst the fashionable teens feel very out of place. I mean seriously it was all eyes on the old chick. I immediately felt my hairstyle was outdated, my pants were so not cool etc. I swear it was like being back in high school. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sQKwa-iIGlA/T1jkyae349I/AAAAAAAAAm4/PKIdWAxsYk8/s1600/mean-girls-popular-lohan-mcadams.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sQKwa-iIGlA/T1jkyae349I/AAAAAAAAAm4/PKIdWAxsYk8/s320/mean-girls-popular-lohan-mcadams.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wander self consciously up and down the aisles looking for my son, who surprisingly looks like all the sons there. I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">literally</span> feel all the kids staring at me, talking about me, judging me. After 10 minutes I return to the gate keeper and tell him I can't find my son, thinking he will make an announcement or something but he says "try again he's in there." I return. The stares return. I feel overweight, I notice I am the only female there without skinny jeans and Uggh boots.....</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RzAIVHKUYzo/T1jy52gGHbI/AAAAAAAAAnA/G5F6aboeHjc/s1600/skinny.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RzAIVHKUYzo/T1jy52gGHbI/AAAAAAAAAnA/G5F6aboeHjc/s320/skinny.jpg" width="214" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is that a pimple I feel coming up on my forehead? Oh dear God. I am dying here. I, again, return to the gate keeper and say "no luck" he then informs me I can go look around the court yard. Which I do. I enter and see kids making out, and notice immediately all the clicks. I quickly get the hell outta there. And return to the cafeteria. I decide I will just wait there and eventually he will come out. Although I generally enjoy embarrassing my kids. I did not want to do that to my son in front if the<i> entire</i> student body and somehow I think when your <i>mommy </i>comes looking for you in the cafeteria that could be embarrassing. I lay low by the entrance hoping to spot him. When one of his friends spots me and yells out </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Miss Reed!" </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Look it's Miss Reed!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Miss Reed in the house!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Heeeeeey Miss Reed!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Of course due to his loud yelling the entire cafeteria turns at once to look at me. I am dying here I feel the teenage girls eyes traveling over my apparel. The teen boys sizing me up. This is just awkward! Just when I can take it no</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> more I see him. I approach him and he actually did not seem as horrified as I thought he would be. I am the one horrified and ready to get out of there. I get outside and say to him "sorry I did not mean to pick you up in front of the entire school" "It's cool" he says "You look kinda cool today anyways." "Awe, I do?" I ask. "Yeah" he says " you should have seen the mom that came in before you. She had the nerve to have on skinny jeans!"</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-13919916201854814392012-02-29T05:55:00.000-08:002012-02-29T05:55:03.856-08:00Grand Theft Auto- Real Live Version<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gzn4Zn2pkAU/T04r5NBLGyI/AAAAAAAAAmg/QtFDGF6IY8s/s1600/logo_agegate.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="185" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gzn4Zn2pkAU/T04r5NBLGyI/AAAAAAAAAmg/QtFDGF6IY8s/s200/logo_agegate.gif" width="200" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So recently my son completed Drivers Ed. He did very well and the mere second he graduated he wanted to drive, drive, drive. I was a bit confused I thought that since he had that certificate I could drive with him, but nope, turns out he needs an actual permit from the DMV. I know ignorance of the law is no excuse but it is<i> my</i> excuse. I let him drive me around the neighborhood a couple times and he did quite well but I have little patience and was freaked the entire time. Once I found out that he had to have that permit from the DMV I explained no more driving until we get that done. Problem is the pesky DMV office closes at 5p each day and that schedule just does not work for me. So although he hounded me daily to get the permit it was put on a to-do list.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">School was closed for 3 days. Damn teacher workdays. And I thought two teens at home for 3 days alone would equal trouble so I sent them to their dads. Monday night (day two) Dad calls me at 10p. He is pissed. He informs me he is on the way to my home with the boys. I was confused because I thought I had one more day. He then informs me that while he was at work our son (which is<i> my son</i> apparently when he does wrong) had driven dads car while he was at work. He was livid. I was mad too but I kinda found it funny because I too would steal my moms car all the time at that age. And for all the times I called dad to complain that I needed help with them and more support as they reached their teen years. He could never help out, but he always made sure to inform me that they would not do "those things" if they lived with him. He was ranting and raving mostly about his car and the gas that was used. Not about the fact that Michael had only driven a grand total of 3 hours in drivers ed and was not only a danger to himself but others as well. The story they gave him was that they drove around the neighborhood a few times. Dad demanded that I punish him. Nope sorry dude that happened at your house you should have punished him. His idea of punishing him was to return him home and put it in my lap. I thought that was a huge cop-out since he pays $35 a week in child support per child and is currently a month behind. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>A </i><i>lil</i><i> </i><i>side</i><i> </i><i>note</i><i> about that child support- we </i><i>agreed</i><i> on that amount when the boys were tots because he would get them </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><i>every</i></span><i> weekend and also paid half of their clothing costs and chipped in on field trips, and pictures etc. At the time it was more important that he remain active in their lives to me then provide money for their care. I could do it by myself so I mostly did. But he has since had two wives and two more kids plus one more kid that showed up from his </i><i>past</i><i> prior to me so lets just say the </i><i>visitation</i><i> is shaky at best. Not to mention that the cost of a 2 year old compared to a 16 year old is way </i><i>different</i><i>. </i><i>I mean</i><i> that </i><i>boy</i><i> can eat up a weeks worth of his child support in one day. </i></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XsSMl7umuPc/T04sBViQJ2I/AAAAAAAAAmo/f2K4GXXT86w/s1600/sden651l.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XsSMl7umuPc/T04sBViQJ2I/AAAAAAAAAmo/f2K4GXXT86w/s320/sden651l.jpg" width="232" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyways back to the story. </span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He dropped off the boys and left. Then I sat down with them and asked what the hell were they thinking?? They made light of the situation. "No big deal" as my son put it. "We didn't wreck and no one got hurt." After I explained all the things that could have gone wrong. An accident, running over and killing a child, getting caught by the police, etc. My son still did not see the "big deal". It was very frustrating. At that point I informed the lad that should he ever steal a car at my home I would definitely have him arrested for grand theft auto. He looked at me and said "and I knew that, which is why I stole dads car and not yours." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I am curious, Did you ever steal your parents car or did your kids ever steal yours?</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-77334291068688252572012-02-24T05:04:00.000-08:002012-02-24T05:04:18.876-08:00How Effing Ungrateful!<blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RIiTuqabbC0/T0OlqPa_OGI/AAAAAAAAAmI/efERoWefaRs/s1600/virginia_slims_menthol_lights.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RIiTuqabbC0/T0OlqPa_OGI/AAAAAAAAAmI/efERoWefaRs/s200/virginia_slims_menthol_lights.gif" width="117" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;">I<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> am a closet smoker. Smoking is a nasty and bad habit. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">However,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I love it. I do not smoke in the day at all. But each night when I take my bath I puff on two Virgina </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Slims</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. I am not a drinker, nor do I have any prescription magic pills to help me deal with stress, </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">so thi</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">s is my medication. The two smokes calm me and put me in relax mode so that I am ready for sleep. I enjoy it. It is my dirty </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pleasure</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. Very few people know that I smoke. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Well until now</span>. One of the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">people</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> who does know </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">is</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> my neighbor. She is on a fixed income. She gets a check at the beginning of the month and has no </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">employment</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> so she rides that check out until its gone which is usually </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">around</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> 15th of each month. Then she is broke. The problem is she too is a smoker. Apparently a chain smoker. We all know cigarettes are </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">expensive</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> so if you are that broke that is an even worse habit to behold. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyhoo</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to get to the point I am her cigarette supplier from the 15th to the 3rd of </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">next</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> month.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"> </span></span></span></div></blockquote><blockquote class="tr_bq"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It started out just a smoke here and there but now it has become expected. In my silly attempt to cut down </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">on</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> all </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> phone calls and stop-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">bys</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I started to give her 4 or 5 at a time thinking that would hold her a couple days and I would not have to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">deal</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">with</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> the dramatics. That worked the first two times then it would seem even if I gave her 5 smokes the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">next day</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> there she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">would</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> be waiting for me to stock her up </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">again</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. This was extremely </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">frustrating</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">since</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I smoke so </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">little</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> my pack </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">would</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> last a week. Now with her my </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">pack</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> lasts a day or so. I have even bought her an entire pack so that she can give me some peace but even then she blows through them in a day and she's back begging the next day. It is annoying and exhausting. I have </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tried</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">to</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> explain to her that I am a very light smoker and usually </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">have</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> just enough to get me through and that now that she is smoking on my dime I find that I am spending quite a bit more. I get </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">apologies</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and the "oh I feel </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">terrible</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">" but the asking </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">does</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> not </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">stop</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span></span></span></span></blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Any </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">real</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> smoker knows </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> when you smoke and have no smokes it is a horrible predicament to be in. So she calls </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">me</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> as soon as I pull up, I am not even </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">out</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> of the car yet. If I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">don't</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> answer she runs out to </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">catch</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> me. If she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">is</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">unsuccessful</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> she will knock on my door. There is no way to get around it other than to just be a bitch and say no more. Which by the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">way</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I am not quite prepared to do just yet although I feel it is coming. So </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">last</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> week when she was calling over and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">over</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and I</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">was</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ignoring her I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">could</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> feel that </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">she</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">was</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> headed over. I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">gave</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> cigarettes to Mason and said "quick run these to M</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">rs.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> J</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">udy's</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> house." He returned 10 minutes later (</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">because</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">no</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> visit to M</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">rs</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Judy's</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> house is a quick one) </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">shaking</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> his head. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ItpXeh1Cz2M/T0Ol_b5yieI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/NHNMSABGN9M/s1600/cry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ItpXeh1Cz2M/T0Ol_b5yieI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/NHNMSABGN9M/s1600/cry.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I asked what happened he said "well mom she opened the door and I said my mom said to give these to you. She opened</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> box and yelled only two! My god she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">only sent me two! And </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">then</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">started</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to cry. She </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">cried</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and cried and I had to come in and get her at tissue. I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">asked</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">her</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> what was </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">wrong</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">said</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> your mom only </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">gave</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> me</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> two. Is she out or </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">something?</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Why </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">would</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">do</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> that? Is </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">she</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> mad?" </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hearing</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">what</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> had happened I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">was</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> livid! I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">started</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to go over there </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">demand</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> my two cigarettes back. How dare she! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Are</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> you effing </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">kidding</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> me! Come on! I am </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">raising</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">family</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">of</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> 6 over here on a very small amount </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">of</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> money. I am sure if you broke down </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">person</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> to money ratio she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">would</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> be rich compared to us. She </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">just</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">mishandles</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> her money apparently. But I just thought it </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">was</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> most </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">ungrateful</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">response</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I had ever seen. For that I ignored her for an entire week. It took a lot of ducking and being rude when she would come </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">walking</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> up </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">my</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">driveway</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> but after about 4 </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">days</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> she </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">got</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> hint and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">laid</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> low. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I noticed my smokes were still </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">disappearing</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> too quickly. I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">asked</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">David</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> one evening had </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">he</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> been </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">tampering</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> with my pack. He said yeah. "I've gotten a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">few</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> here and there." "Why?" I asked </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">irritated</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> that my pack had somehow become the </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">community</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> pack. He said "well everyday when I pull up from work</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Mrs</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Judy</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> meets me in the driveway and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">needed</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> some </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">so I have been splitting my pack with her which left me short so I had to get some out of yours. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">UUUGGGHHHH</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-88940692866382680962012-02-21T05:14:00.000-08:002012-02-21T05:14:54.919-08:00Insensitive Or Over-Reacting?<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WxWz_GDVIN0/Tz0KsXnfIyI/AAAAAAAAAl4/c0nTdUuBhVI/s1600/alarm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WxWz_GDVIN0/Tz0KsXnfIyI/AAAAAAAAAl4/c0nTdUuBhVI/s200/alarm.jpg" width="188" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-am-possibly-worst-neighbor-in-world.html">Remember this?....when my neighbor thought she smelled gas and was sure we'd all die and I poked fun.</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hmmm Karma is a bitch</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So David has been working two jobs one from 530a-7p then another from 7p-12a. He usually stops by after job #1 to eat and then heads out to job #2. Job #2 is a side job that he sets the pace for, so although he needs to get there, it is not like if he is late he is in trouble. He was leaving for job #2 when my smoke detectors started going off. I was a lil weirded out by that because we were not cooking or showering or doing anything that would cause that. David was pulling off so I had Mason run and tell his dad to come in right quick and see what was up with the alarm. David comes in and fans the alarm which causes it to stop and then says bye and heads back out. By the time he made it to the door the alarm starts going off again. He returns and removes the battery and then heads for the door again.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I was shocked by his solution to the problem so I say to him "ummm, excuse me, but I don't think removing the battery is what one is supposed to do when the alarm sounds." He replies nonchalantly "the battery is just dead." </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qRxgdQdt5gY/Tz0K0s1xfAI/AAAAAAAAAmA/-A6e9-Ikqvc/s1600/chief.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qRxgdQdt5gY/Tz0K0s1xfAI/AAAAAAAAAmA/-A6e9-Ikqvc/s200/chief.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"I'm no fire chief but usually the alarm is used to alert one of something. In my experience when the battery is dying the alarm will let off an intermediate screech sound every few minutes to let you know that." I inform him. This sound was clearly the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">alarm </span>sounding. He looks at me irritated and says "Roc there is no fire so it must be the battery." "Or Carbon Monoxide?" I suggest. "Maybe" he says as he heads for the door. "Maybe?!" I yell. "So you're off to work while we all must just stay here and inhale the carbon until death?" "You are not going to die. If you are that concerned open a window." is his reply. "Oh okay" I say sarcastically "we'll just open the windows and go to bed and maybe the bad guys who broke in last month<i> won't</i> will come in and kill us. But don't worry about that head on off to work now. We'll see you when you come back or rather in heaven when you get there. We will all be waiting. Oh, since all my kids will be dead as well you can just give all my stuff to my sisters." He turns around not impressed and says "Roc its the battery." "Yes, David while I am sure that is the <i>best case scenario,</i> however it just <i>seem</i><i>s</i> like you would want to be sure" "Fine." he storms in and removes the battery again and says" I'll just go get a new battery". "Sounds like a good plan" I say. He returns less than 5 minutes later, pulls up hands Mason the "new" battery and pulls away. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He was very fast, suspiciously so. I take the battery David has given Mason and place it into the alarm which immediately starts going off. I remove that battery and put it into another alarm which also starts to go off. I assume the battery in the second alarm must have been dead and now this new battery David just bought is making alarm #2 functional, so it is picking up the Carbon Monoxide and going off. So I call David, he picks up I say "Soooo both alarms are now sounding. You still think it is just the battery because this battery is new?" He pulls back up comes in and says "give me the battery."Why?" I ask. He admits "I never replaced it. I lied. I just wiped it off and brought back the same battery. I really needed to go but I will go buy 3 new batteries." Which he did and all the alarms stopped. Turned out he was right. That would make the score:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Me 10000882. Him 3. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Although he was right I still was mad because how could he be sure? What if we had all died in our sleep? I don't know about you but I take the possible death of my entire family seriously enough that I would make sure my guess that the battery was dead was a correct guess But that's just me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So you decide. Did I overreact or was he being insensitive? Keep in mind this is my blog!</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-80414860673508184382012-02-16T05:18:00.000-08:002012-02-16T05:18:55.968-08:00The Drama Continues<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/02/drama-never-stops.html">Part One</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her Side:</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well...I was out walking my dog and I heard a noise behind the barn (located beside my house). I became frightened. There was heavy crashing sounds and the sound of metal. I was petrified. I immediately thought that your house was being robbed again. I took my dog back to my home and returned to see what was going on . As I was returning I saw a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">scary looking guy</span> coming from behind your barn walking towards your back porch. I ran up to him and started yelling hey who are you? What are you doing here? Get the hell off this property now! The scary guy just ignored me and kept walking so I ran up to him and repeated my questions. I did not know who he was or if he was a killer. I wasn't sure if there were more people behind the barn. Before I realized it I had gotten right up in his face. I thought he may stab me or hurt me in some way. So I yelled at him some more. Finally the scary guy turned to me and said I am here to see Michael. I told him Michael was in school. He told me no he wasn't. He was in the house and had invited him over. I ran to your door and started pounding on the door yelling for Michael to come out. He ignored me. I kicked your door several times and continued yelling. Finally Michael came to the door. He opened the door a hair and said what so you want. I told him to get his ass out of that house, I asked him what were they doing? Was he robbing the place? I wasn't sure, But I thought maybe they were moving merchandise from your home to behind the barn for pick up. I continued yelling and cursing at Michael who just stared blankly at me. Finally he said to me Mrs. Judy I am sick. That's why I am home. I asked my friend to come over. That's why he is here. So I told him you are not supposed to have anyone here. What the hell is wrong with you? He said to me well call my mom if you have a problem. Then he shut the door in my face leaving me alone out on your porch with the other scary guy who I was certain would harm me. I told him to get the hell off the property before I called the police. Roc, what the hell is going on in your home? What is going on with Michael? He is up to some thing you need to have him arrested or placed in a boot cap or something. I cannot believe he was so disrespectful to shut the door in my face! I do not feel safe. I wasn't sure if they would attack me or hurt me I was so scared." </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My Thoughts:</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This story brings me much confusion. Why would she be scared of my son? Why was my son home and not at school? What was behind the barn? Who was the scary guy? Just then my son calls. I ask him what the hell is going on? He says to me "I came home and Mrs Judy came here and went crazy." I ask him who was at my house he says "no one now, but it was Brett." "Brett?" I asked. "No, not him, who was the scary guy?" "Brett" he says sounded defeated."What was Brett doing behind the barn?" "Hiding from Mrs Judy" he says. Uggghh "This is all too much I will be home in shortly and I will deal with you then." And I hung up greatly annoyed. When I arrive home I immediately begin yelling at him, because let's be honest, he <i>was</i> skipping school<i> again. </i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">His Side:</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He had an accident in his pants....(A clear lie.) So he needed to come home and change. He was with Brett walking to school when it happened. So he headed home to shower and change and Brett was just gonna come with him. When he got to our street he told Brett to wait on the corner so he would not be seen by the neighbor. When he got home without an issue he called Brett and told him the coast was clear. Brett headed down the street just as Mrs. Judy was headed out to walk her dog. Brett called Micheal who instructed him to come the back way and hide behind the barn until Mrs. Judy went into her home. Which is what Brett did. However he must have rustled some leaves and unknowingly got Mrs. Judy's attention. So when she went home to put the dog up he thought the coast was clear and was headed to my back door when wham! Mrs Judy appeared yelling, screaming and cursing at him. He tried to ignore her and not engage her but she followed him. Then he just told her the truth that Micheal had invited him over. But she continued to yell and scream at him. Then Michael says Mrs. Judy came to the door, she kicked the door twice. He wasn't even gonna open it but she kept banging and yelling. So eventually he came to the door. He opened it and she began yelling at him. So much, so close that her spittle landed in his face and after the second time of spit landing in his face he told her to call me and shut the door. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d72FImT28YE/Tzu2MY7gktI/AAAAAAAAAls/PvSEfZGlO8k/s1600/yell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="186" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-d72FImT28YE/Tzu2MY7gktI/AAAAAAAAAls/PvSEfZGlO8k/s200/yell.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The Facts:</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Obviously my son did not shit his pants. That was just an excuse to come home. They were obviously planning to skip and hang out in my house. I fully believe all the parts about my sons story of why Brett was behind the barn. My kids know that Mrs Judy conducts 24 hour surveillance. Aside from my son being wrong for skipping here's what I take issue with. The "<span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><i>scary kid" </i></span>that Judy referred to is my sons best friend. </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-455pqjUhbTg/Tzu2EQSHxCI/AAAAAAAAAlk/2KQc2VkWVXs/s1600/nice.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-455pqjUhbTg/Tzu2EQSHxCI/AAAAAAAAAlk/2KQc2VkWVXs/s1600/nice.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A more true depiction of what the kid looks like</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dmBmpFZX1-k/Tzu1-42XONI/AAAAAAAAAlc/hqlR-eFLkUk/s1600/gangsta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dmBmpFZX1-k/Tzu1-42XONI/AAAAAAAAAlc/hqlR-eFLkUk/s1600/gangsta.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her Description of The "Scary Guy"</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> He is over here lots. He has no weird piercings or tattoos or anything to make him look "scary." The kid wears yellow for god's sake. She knew him! So the part about the scary guy was unnecessary and embellished. I checked behind the barn. There was nothing back there. So the loud crashing and metal sounds...embellished. Her life being in danger...bullshit! My son nor any of his friends have ever been disrespectful to her or never been violent at all. No one threatened her! She could not have been that scared of him. <i>She</i> approached <i>them </i>both! I appreciate her giving me the heads up when something fishy is going on at my home and I'm not home. I do not appreciate her going over there and trying to handle it herself when she realized it was my son. She should have simply called me and that's all. It is not her place to go confront my kid. That would be my job. And it is definitely not her place to yell at my child or threaten him or his friends. Especially after she just fucking misidentified him as a robber no more than a week ago! I did tell her that. And I was mad at her for a good while. I also punished my son for skipping and called his friend up and had a chat with him about what will happen if I catch him at my house again when I'm not home. But Jeez Louise these people are outta control. And I am super pissed that my neighbor made it seem like she was in danger when <i>she</i> was the aggressor. Ugggh </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now you pick a side. Neighbor or son? They were both wrong but I just sorta feel the adult should be the adult. What do you think?</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-9741966349019129302012-02-14T08:21:00.000-08:002012-02-14T08:21:47.738-08:00The Drama Never Stops<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_160975000">So In case you missed it I went through hell for a couple weeks when my home was robbed and my 15 year old son was</a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_160975000"> falsely</a></span><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/02/robbery-part-5-finallyguilty-or-not.html"> identified by my neighbor.</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/02/robbery-part-5-finallyguilty-or-not.html"></a> Honestly the hardest thing I ever went through that I can recall. I was literally an emotional wreck. When my son was cleared it took a huge weight off me but there was still angst. I still and never will know who robbed my home. My relationship with my son will always have this scar. But I was getting through, pulling myself together.</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sunday night my boys were wrestling when Mason's foot got injured and his dad was convinced the bone had cracked. I had to go to work in the morning and Mason <i>claimed</i> he could not walk so I took him to work with me to try to find someone to cover my shift so I could take him to the doctor. It's really hard to carry a ten year old at 6am. Later that day around 12pm I am at the XRay center to get Mason's foot Xrayed. I had already had an unpleasant exchange with the receptionist who was less than friendly, even snooty, when she informed me the Xray would not be covered by my insurance since it was out of network. It wasn't so much as that, but the way she said it was just snooty! We were waiting to be called back. There are several signs stating no cell phones in the waiting area or treatment area and I obliged by turning off my ringer.I periodically checked my phone because I do have several other children and you never know. I noticed I had 3 missed calls from the neighbor. I was concerned and annoyed. Concerned because I thought maybe my house is being robbed again and annoyed because if that is not the case and she thinks I'm working why would she keep calling?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I get two missed calls from my job followed by another missed call from my neighbor. Now I'm starting to panic thinking there must be a problem. I get a text from a coworker that says "roc your neighbor called here looking for you she said it is an emergency". At this point they are Xraying Mason's foot. I cannot just leave the waiting area. That would freak him out if he returned and I was not there so I sat there for an agonizing 15 minutes wondering what the hell was going on at my home. Finally the Xray tech returned with Mason and shockingly <i>now</i> he could walk! It's a miracle! Once they told him he foot wasn't broken or sprained he<i> magically </i>healed right up. I was so irritated with him that I wanted to break his foot so that the entire day had not been a waste. I carried him and he is heavy, I left work, I argued with dad over the injury, and now I will have a huge Xray bill since the place my pediatrician sent me to get the Xray was out of network. Uggh just what I needed.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I leave the Xray department I immediately call my neighbor. She answers the phone out of breath and over excited. I say annoyed "is there a problem?" "Oh hell yes there is!" she screams back at me. "Where are you?" I explain that I am far away at a hospital but ask what is the problem. She says "well I would not bother you if it was not an emergency! But something is going on with your son!" Oh god here we go. "My son is in school" I inform her. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"No he's not either!" she yells</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"He is in your house!... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And I just had it out with him!... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh my god, let me calm down! She is breathing as if she will pass out at any minute. She begins to tell me what a horrible morning she has had to begin with. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Her dog is terribly ill and... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">she's not feeling well herself, and... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">she has been so stressed ever since the robbery.... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and today just tops the cake....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">she thinks she may move....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She needs her meds....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">her heart is palpitating and.... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">the dog is so upset, and.... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I need to get home asap...."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am completely irritated and ask her "what the hell is going on? "</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh god well Let me calm myself..</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">hold on I need some water.....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh you are going to be so upset...</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">or mad but I'm mad..."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">this goes on and on. I have had enough!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Fucking tell me all ready!" I yell "What the hell is going on?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well....." she takes a deep breath and begins her story....</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-66587785108053046662012-02-08T05:58:00.000-08:002012-02-08T05:58:53.743-08:00Telling The Neighbor<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She stands there in her usual attire, her robe and slippers. I scream "He did not do this! Michael is innocent!" She seems to be in shock and says "come in come in." I sit on her couch and I tell her how the police were just at my house and have cleared Michael. She stares at me in horror. She begins to sob. Not the reaction I was hoping for?? I say to her "hey now, no crying this is great news! You can stop giving him the suspect eye and we both can rest easy knowing that he didn't do this." She cries louder. "I can't believe I made a mistake it looked just like him" she says. "Well it's okay we all make mistakes" I say in an effort to comfort her. "Oh god!" she sobs "he must hate me." "Yes, he does" I say, "but he will get over it he just needs a little time." "I was so sure" she says shaking her head in disbelief. "I know, its okay." I say She begins to wail "oh you must hate me.!" "No, I don't" I assure her. "Yes you do!" she wails. Her wailing is similar to that of a three year old having a tantrum. There is shaking and snot and tears and loud crying. But I've seen it before. I tell her to clam down no one hates her its just that I am so happy he didn't do this. She again said "I was just so sure." I just stare at her. "But I never saw his face" she admits. "Just the back of him or rather the back of who I thought was him." "It's fine," I say "you were only trying to help."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"All your kids must hate me." she whines. I assure her that they don't. She asks me if I can ever forgive her. I tell her that I already have. As she cries and cries and makes it about her I remind her to imagine how I must feel. I am his mother and I too accused him. "Only after<i> I</i> said I saw him!" she wails. "Either way, I am his mother and I should have stood by him." I interject. "Oh the turmoil I have caused your family. I am just so sorry and".....this goes on for an hour. Her crying and apologizing me assuring her that we do not hate her and that we should focus on the positive... he is innocent. I eventually calm her down to where she is no longer crying at the top of her lungs just whimpering quietly about how much he must hate her. I tell her "he's a good kid. Give him some time and he'll forgive you." She asks if she can apologize right now. I say no the day has been long enough and I am sure Michael doesn't want to hear her apology right now. "Just let it die down a bit" I suggest. As I am wrapping up my visit that always takes about 3 times longer than I anticipated I get her calm enough so I can leave without feeling too guilty. She starts to cry again. "Do you think he will take revenge against me?"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This makes me angry! I turn on my heel and look her in the eye and say "My son has never done anything malicious to anyone! He is not that kind of person!" "Well he could be so mad now that he may retaliate." she says. I am stunned at that comment. I have decided to just go and leave her to her misery. I wrap things up by saying "well we, and our homes are safe and I am happy for that." "No we are not" she says. "That means the real robber is still out there and I am probably next. She begins to get worked up again. "Listen, the robber only stole kids items and electronics so it was obviously someone who knew us and had been in our home. You have nick knacks and facial cream. They do not want that. I am sure you will be fine." I say, becoming irritated. "Oh no" she says "I am certain I am next." "Okay I give up. Have a good night" I say and return home wishing I had never went over to begin with.</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-19136032175505401452012-02-06T05:00:00.000-08:002012-02-06T05:00:49.595-08:00The Robbery- Part 5 - Finally....Guilty or Not<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/02/robbery-part-4-me-against-fvpd.html">The Back Story</a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay, loyal readers, here I will finally tell you if my son did this or not.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I answer the phone and I am greeted by a Captain Morgan. He informs me that is is calling because he understands I had filed a complaint. Which although <i>I did complain</i> I did not realize it was "official." So I catch him up on the entire story about how I was treated by the redneck-asshole-guy and how I have not been contacted since and the all the stuff that had occurred in relation to this robbery and their mishandling of it. He is very nice and he tells me that he will be looking into the way I was treated by the FVPD because that is definitely not the way to handle citizens. He informs me that all calls are recorded and he plans to pull the recordings from my previous 5 phone calls and if what I said was indeed true someone's "head would roll." He explains the investigation process to me and for that I am grateful because I truly had no clue. He apologizes again for the way I was treated and assures me that he will take action. He asks if there is anything he can do to smooth things over with me. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tell him that at this point it had been two weeks and obviously the case would not likely get solved but that I was horribly upset and confused by my son being accused. He asks if I think he did it. I tell him no but I don't want to be <i>that mom</i> that thinks her kids are angels.<i> I mean who would really think their kid robbed their family at 15??</i> I explain to him how hard it has been in my home not knowing if my son is innocent or guilty and at this point I don't even care if they find the culprit. I just want my son either cleared or convicted so we can move on with our lives. I tell him that the FVPD has stock in finding out if he did it as much as I do because if he did it I am sure next he would rob someone else and then they would really have a problem. I tell him if my son did do this then this would be his first crime therefore he should be easy to break.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I suggest they come pick him up and take him to one of those interrogation rooms with the swinging light and an intimidating officer that could get him to confess.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jGhbxcSHnFU/TywQXy3vzPI/AAAAAAAAAlU/WtkOO7C4DMI/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jGhbxcSHnFU/TywQXy3vzPI/AAAAAAAAAlU/WtkOO7C4DMI/s320/images.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> He explains that due to his age he cannot do that. I ask if they can administer a lie detector test to my son. Again he informs me the age is an issue. I tell him I am willing to sign something saying I do not mind if they go outside of protocol. Whatever it takes I need to know. He says again he cannot. I sigh in frustration and my voice cracks as I fight back tears that apparently I will never know if my son did this or not. There is a long pause on Captain Morgans end and he says "I'll tell you what. It is so uncommon for a mother to be so vigilant when their child is accused. Generally a mother would just defend her child even when she may know he is guilty." He commends me for that. He said he could tell I was struggling with this and since I had been so mistreated he would do me a favor. He informs me that he is the master at making a criminal crack especially youth offenders and that although he could not come pick my son up he would come to my home and "work his magic" and give me the answer I so sought after. It is almost 10pm. He asks if I would like him to do that. I am super grateful and I reply "Yes! Yes! Please!" He says "I am on my way see you in 10 minutes." </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ten minutes later there is a knock at the door. All my boys are sitting at the dining room table playing UNO.(that's what happens when there are no video games) I open the door and act surprised to see the captain standing there with the original responding officer. They step inside and the captain says "I am here to see Michael Reed." My son looks like he is gonna shit himself. I point him out, "that's Michael" I say. He says all official and authoritatively "Michael I need you to come with me, Mrs Reed officer John will explain what's going on" and with that my son heads out the door with the captain. Those 15 minutes seemed like lifetime. I began to wonder if I was doing the right thing. I worried for my son. But I knew it was what I had to do. After 15 minutes or so the captain returns with his arm around my sons shoulders ( I am crying as I write this, as I visualize the memory of that sight.) He says to me "Mrs. Reed, your son is innocent. You got a good kid right here." I bite my lip to hold back the tears as I grab him and hug him. He, understandably, does not hug back. The captain explained that the prints do not match my son at all. He had previously verified my sons alibi and using his expertise in detecting guilt he had cleared my son. I honestly felt like I had won the lottery. You could never understand this until you go through something like this. In an instant I had my sweet innocent child back! I thanked the captain over and over. He told me that I was doing a great job as a mom and he wished more mothers in our town were more like me. Then he gave me his cell, his email and told me if I ever needed anything please get in touch with him. He also apologized again for the trauma that my family had endured. And with that he left. He barely made it out my driveway when I ran as fast as I could to the neighbors. It was 11pm! I banged on her door so much that I am sure I scared the shit out of her. She opened the door frazzled and I yelled "he is innocent! Michael did not do this!".......</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-29836771864007175512012-02-02T05:51:00.000-08:002012-02-02T05:51:50.706-08:00The Robbery- Part 4 Me Against The FVPD<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/01/robbery-part-3-suspect.html">The Beginning of the Story </a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had been gathering info all week."Working the case" I was hell-bent and determined to find out if my son had anything to do with this. I was exhausted. I had not heard from anyone from the police department so I decided I should call them. I had the responding officers number in my phone so I called him and shared with him the information I had received from the school and the information on the kid that looked like my kid. He told he was off and was not my officer. He told me I should contact the police department to find out who was assigned my case and share that info with them. I did just that. Guess who answered? Red-neck-asshole-guy. As soon I started to explain who I was he cut me off and said "yeah we know, what do you want" I explained that I had information I needed to share with whomever was handling my case. He asked me for my investigators name. I told him I didn't know. I didn't. He grumbled and said "who was the officer?" I told him the responding officer had told he he was not my officer. He then said rudely "well what's your case number?" I told him I did not know. I had not been given a case number or any information. He said "you don't know?" I said "no I don't" He responded rudely "well I don't either" and hung up. I was outraged. What was this dudes problem? I had decided to go down there in person after work.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When I arrived at the local police station I could see immediately why the person answering the phone was an ass. There was one guy responding to 911 calls, regular police station calls, dispatching police units and handling walk ins. That made me feel very unsettled about my community. I had to wait 15 minutes for the guy working behind the desk to acknowledge me he was super busy. So I made it quick. I knew immediately he was not red-neck-asshole-guy because he was polite to the callers. I quickly explained who I was and that I had been having difficulties with whoever it is that is answering the lines in the daytime. They officer behind the desk did not seem too interested. He told me that they are short staffed and simply my case was not a priority. It was a home burglary and that is the bottom of the list. He also told me that he was sorry for the delay but it was unreasonable for me to expect any answers 6 days in. That is a long process admittedly longer than it should be, but they honestly were doing the best they could. He said at that point my case had not even been assigned to anyone so there was no one to share the info with. I was so damn frustrated. He also told me that they had just done a major switch in the back and lots of people were in positions they had never been in so they were trying to iron out the wrinkles. He was polite but he gave me no hope. I felt defeated. I asked him what do I do with this info? I also found it odd that I got yelled at by red-neck-asshole-guy because as he says "time is of the essence in a crime" and here it was a week later and no one was working my case.!!! He took down my name and number and said he'd pass it on. I left. Honestly I gave up. "Fucking forget it" I'd said. I returned home to my misery. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since the robbery, my neighbor had become more worrisome than usual calling every time she heard a sound. Questioning me over and over about what I was going to do about my son. Reminding me constantly that she did not feel safe and she was sure her home was next. I tried to reassure her it was obviously someone who knew us, some teen because my jewelry and checks had not been taken only the kids stuff. She had nothing to worry about all she has is ole lady stuff that no one wants. But she made it about her. I was so annoyed. Here I could barely cope, I felt like hell and I had to go to work each day and carry on each day taking care of my kids all while dealing with the thoughts that my home was not safe, and wondering if my son was this terrible. I felt I failed my kids. They no longer felt safe. As a matter of fact Marlon had called his dad and asked to move in with them because he did not feel safe. That was crushing. Michael's moods swung from emotional to angry. I could not decided if he was guilty or not. And in the middle of all this the neighbor was super needy because she was alone and scared and I was made to feel responsible for that. It was a hard hard time for me and I had no where to turn. My friends and coworkers offered to help with the other kids as they saw me struggle emotionally and twice a coworker sent us dinner. It was all very nice but I felt alienated with my son as a suspect. Until Friday Night when I received an unexpected phone call........</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-4544820646450846222012-01-31T05:02:00.000-08:002012-01-31T05:02:03.210-08:00The Robbery- Part 3- Suspect<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/01/robbery.html">How It Started</a></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/01/robbery-part-2.html">How my son got named a suspect</a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I realize everyone wants me to get to the conclusion of this but I feel it is important to take you on the journey just as I went on it. That way you can feel the confusion, suspicion, and doubt. Don't worry it will eventually wrap up.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The night was rough. I awakened the next morning to get ready for work. David had agreed to stay home to secure the house and let in CCBI (Crime Scene People). I watched my son eat his breakfast. I stared at him wondering <i>Could he have? Did he? What would I do of he had? What would I say to him if he hadn't?</i> I was teary-eyed and emotional but needed to go to work. I straightened up a bit and placed a call to the police station like I had been instructed to do. Some red-neck asshole answered. I began to explain to him that I needed CCBI to come out. He cut me off rudely and said to me "you mean to tell me your home was robbed and you called off CCBI because you were tired?!" The aggravation in his voice was apparent. I explained that I had small kids that were exhausted and terrified and we had waited 5 plus hours and I needed to do what was best for my children at that time. He yelled at me "do you not know that time is of the essence when there is a crime?!" I explained that we stayed away from the room in which entry had been made. He made a few other rude remarks. I was already emotional and could not understand what this dudes problem was. I explained to him that I am not a criminal therefore did not know how the justice system works. I was advised by the officer that it was okay to wait until the morning to call. He said "well you can call them yourself! I'm not calling!" I was shocked. I was offended. I had been victimized and could not believe how rude this guys was. I hung up and called CCBI.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The CCBI people wanted to know why I was calling instead of the police. I was told by them that <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">citizens do not call for their own investigations</span> that call should be made from my police station. I explained that some guy down there refused to call and told me to call myself. The CCBI person was very nice and said he would look into that for me because that was handled completely wrong. He apologized on behalf of the police department and said he would send someone out asap. I got into my car to head off to work and as I pulled out my gut was telling me what I had to do. I parked my car, I reentered my home crying and went into Michael's closet to retrieve the shoes he had on the day before. I gave them to David. I said to him "give these shoes to them to see if the prints match." I felt horrible it was like leading my son to a slaughter. I could not help but feel I was betraying him and the feeling was awful. I then left for work.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The CCBI people came and managed to get two full sets of prints, they did not seem interested in the shoes? So now all I could do was wait .I went back the next day to see the neighbor. I interrogated her myself. She said she saw my son at <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">210p </span>that was a time he should have been at school. She said she saw him walk down the road and meet up with a group of older boys one street over. She said there were 5 guys in hoodies waiting. At the time she thought it was odd but had no clue that my home had just been robbed. I then placed a call to my sons school. The attendance office verified he was there. I know that attendance is done at the beginning of the period so my son could have checked in and left. So I explained to the school what was going on and asked to speak with the teacher directly. I wanted to make sure my son was there at 215 when the bell rang. He was. I was relieved about that. I immediately shared that info with my neighbor who then said she may have been off by 10 or 15 minutes which meant my son could have been at school and could have made it home in time to do the crime. My relief was short lived.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over the next few days I could barely look at my son without crying and wondering. All things ran through my head. I knew he was drug free. I had tested him again. So it just did not make sense. But neither did his demeanor. My other kids were still scared and full of questions. Michael was not. I had to adjust my work hours so that I could be home when they got home because Marlon was scared to be home alone. There was also tension between my two sons. They had blamed each other and were not speaking. I asked Michael over and over again. I hounded him with questions I searched his room. I stalked his facebook friends. I made it clear to him that he was the number one suspect and not only did I but the entire family treated him as such. </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_mXtlgrBoOg/TyACc6u0h_I/AAAAAAAAAlM/lzwOBDmM0mM/s1600/policelineup-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="86" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_mXtlgrBoOg/TyACc6u0h_I/AAAAAAAAAlM/lzwOBDmM0mM/s400/policelineup-sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few days later I was still treating him weird I did not know what to think. If he would even speak to me I'd tear up. This was my baby. One particular evening I was sitting on the couch in the dark just thinking. He came in and sat down across from me. He meekly said "Mom, I did not do this" I did not answer. He then said "Mom you know <i>I</i> was a victim too. My stuff got stolen too." I did not answer. He looked at me sadly. I said to him "Michael she saw you." He replied "well maybe she was wrong. Maybe it was someone who looked like me." To that I said nothing. He told me there is a kid that people mix up with him all the time. I could not believe he was still lying to me so I left the room in silence. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Later that night David approached me and said he wanted to show me something. He pulled out his blackberry and showed me a picture of what looked like my son. But..it wasn't my son. He said it was a kid that went to school with Michael and Michael had showed him the picture. I stared at the picture. It was uncanny the resemblence this kid had to my son. Could this be the answer I prayed for? As I went through this kids facebook page it was clear he was in a gang. You can tell by the language and hand signs. I read all his wall posts about "getting that money" on the day my home was robbed. This kid was a complete menace to society. I spent hours picking apart his life through his face book friends. I discovered that this kid lived two streets over and walked past my street to go to school each day. I also found out that he had been in my home before. One day the boys were playing bball out front and he had walked up and asked Michael if he could get a drink of water. Michael brought him in our home. By the end of the night I had a glimmer of hope.</span></div>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-18275079315245377732012-01-25T05:04:00.000-08:002012-01-25T05:04:43.991-08:00The Robbery- Part 2<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/01/robbery.html">PART ONE-CLICK HERE</a></span></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6JyLucHEOKc/TxlxgIzyG0I/AAAAAAAAAlE/OJCcTla4meM/s1600/sad2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6JyLucHEOKc/TxlxgIzyG0I/AAAAAAAAAlE/OJCcTla4meM/s1600/sad2.jpg" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I stand there, confused, violated, hurt, shocked, and angry. My home has been robbed and my neighbor has just identified <i>my</i> son as being the robber. I do not know what to think or how to feel. I do not think my son did this, but whoever thinks <i>their</i> kid has done anything? Having an eye witness just solidifies his guilt to me. I am yelling at him, he sits there in silence with tears in his eyes, and a look of anger on his face. Is he mad that he is accused or mad that he is caught? The neighbor and police officer are both just standing there staring at us both. I ask the officer "if my son is guilty can you arrest him?" Hard question to ask. I can barely form the words. But I do realize if my son had indeed did this I will have to take action. He says to me "no, he is only 15." I explain that he will be 16 in less than 30 days. Doesn't matter he says. He explains that basically if I pursue it my son will go to court, basically get a slap on the wrist as a first time juvenile offender he will probably get off with a warning and I waste time going back and forth to court. I am completely frustrated. He asks if I want the home treated as a crime scene. "Yes" I say. The officer resumes his questioning of us all and then after making a list of what was stolen:</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 XBox 360's</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A Wii</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">An Ipad</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A Nike Bag</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">10 Video Games</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Shoes</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Clothes</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And Various other teenage gifts from Christmas.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The officer informs me that after totaling the value which is over $1000. It is now a felony and the game changes. He informs me that if my son is found guilty it will no longer be in my hands that the county will take it over because it is a felony and he will be charged as a felon. He also lets me know that once the process is started it cannot be stopped. He then asks me if I want to pursue it. I ask for a minute. I pull my son to the side. I say to him "did you hear that? Do you understand what he is saying?" I explain it to him. I beg him to please tell me if he had anything to do with this. "If you did we will work it out here but you have to be honest. If you do not be honest with me I cannot help you." I am distraught. He stands firm that he did not do this, At this point looking at all the evidence I feel he is guilty. I just want him to tell me why? Where did the stuff go? If he is in some sort of trouble? Are you being bullied? Is this gang related? etc. He refuses to give up any info and simply says. "I am innocent so do what you gotta do." He will not look at me. I try over and over to get him to break. He will not. I am defeated I have no choice but to resume with the investigation. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We walk back into the dining room and I say to the police "okay call CCBI." He asks one more time if I am sure? I cry harder and say Yes. I have no other options. I look at my son pleading for him to fix this. He sits in silence. The call is made.. It is done. Now all we can do is wait. We are instructed not to touch anything and we wait. 3 hours pass. I call the police station and ask how much longer until the CCBI people arrive because we have work and school in the morning and everyone is already upset, hurt, scared and exhausted. They tell me they will have the officer call me. The officer calls me back and says it could be a couple more hours. It is 10pm. I struggle with the thought of having my kids observe a crime team in our home at 12am. I ask if they could just come in the morning. If we could seal the room of entry. I explain that my children and I are exhausted and really just want to go to bed. He says that will be fine. The officer tells me he is off for the next few days but to call the station in the morning explain what has happened and have them recall CCBI. At that point an officer will come and give me a report and case #. I thank him, and gather my kids up in my room to go to bed. Everyone makes a bed on the floor except for Michael. I go in his room. He is sitting on his bed. I am so mad at him, so hurt by him, but he is still my son. I tell him he can sleep in the room with us. He says "no I'm fine in here." Again that looks suspect to me. The other 3 kids are terrified, he does not seem scared at all. I return to my room and try to sleep. ....To be continued.</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-76409464022845964392012-01-23T05:06:00.000-08:002012-01-23T05:06:29.840-08:00The Robbery-<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ltaoFAFbfS8/TxgjshC9K-I/AAAAAAAAAk8/nwMd6tUekh4/s1600/burglary.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ltaoFAFbfS8/TxgjshC9K-I/AAAAAAAAAk8/nwMd6tUekh4/s1600/burglary.jpg" /></a><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">During Winter Break I noticed that my boys would go days without sleep playing video games. It concerned me but I though <i>hell it's winter break I'll let them live have a little fun.</i> As the break neared it's end I decided that we should have a family meeting in which I discussed my concerns about their video gaming and its addictiveness. More importantly how hard it would be to transition back into a regular school schedule. So we agreed (they did not really agree) but it was decided that there would be no games until all chores have been completed, homework had been done and some form of studying occurred. And video games would be limited to an hour in the evenings. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I arrive home, it's a Tuesday. My oldest son is out to eat with a friend and Marlon is sitting at the table studying. I start laundry and dinner. An hour later he asks if he can get on his game system. I check all his requirements to do so and I say sure. He stands there while I continue with my stuff. He finally says "well can I get my game?" "I don't have it" I say. "Well where is it?" he asked. He says "really mom stop playing. Where are all the games?" I inform him that I have no clue. "They are not in your car or at your job?" he asks with a look of concern.(it is common for me to remove the systems from the home when they have been punished) I again inform him that I do not have them. My son tells me that all the game systems are gone. Maybe David took them I thought. So I called him to ask. He said he did not have them. I call my oldest son and ask if he hid them, he said no. I then realized we had been robbed!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> I know the correct term is burglarized but robbed sounds more serious so I'ma go with that.</span> </span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I call the police. Next I call my son and tell him to come home immediately that we had been robbed. In the next ten minutes David arrives home from work, and my son shows up. The police show up and come in and I start to explain that apparently while we were at work and school our home had been robbed. We had discovered an open window in my daughters room. That must have been the point of entry. There are footprints on the wall and under the window outside. Her curtains are crooked. The neighbor sees the police car in my yard and comes over. I fill her in. We are all gathered around the dining room table in shock while the police ask their questions. They ask times of when we all left the home and then the time we arrived in the evening. We go around the table and answer. When it is my son's turn he responds that he just got there 2 minutes before the police did. My neighbor looks at him and says "no the<i> first </i>time you came home." </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>What? What is she talking about? </i>I look at her puzzled. My son says "this <i>is</i> the first time I have been home." She says "No I saw you. I saw you earlier today around 210pm. You were here." He looks shocked. He repeats "I have not been home since I left for school this morning." She says to him "do not lie. I saw you." <i>My head is spinning. What is she implying?</i><i> I look at my son searching for an answer. Why would he lie about coming home? She obviously saw him?</i> I then say "Tell me Michael did you come here?" "No I was with John at the Chinese Buffet!" He says defensively. I have been having issues with Michael in the past 3 months or so. Issues with skipping and lying but nothing like this. Unfortunately, in that moment I did not know what to believe. My neighbor says to him again "I saw you. You left the home and had a bookbag and a duffel bag." He again tells her she is wrong. "I was not here at all!" he yells with tears in his eyes. I cannot tell if the tears are anger or hurt or guilt. She asks me if he has a duffel bag. I say yes and then she says "if I see it, I will know if that is it." I go get the bag from his closet. It is a black and blue Nike bag. I place it on the table and hold my breath. She looks at it and says "no it's similar but that's not it." I breathe a sigh of relief and then I hear her say "it was like that, but red." My heart drops. My other son has an identical bag in red. I ask him to go check his closet. Sure enough the bag is gone.......</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I look at my son and yell at him "Did you have anything to do with this?" "No! I swear!" he yells back. The neighbor is still insisting it was him that she saw. He yells "call the school! l was at school!" I lose it. I begin to cry and yell "tell me the truth! I am gonna find out! I have to know did you do this!" I am searching his eyes for some indication of his innocence or guilt. He yells again "NO! My god I would never!" <i>I want to believe him. He had never done anything like this but there is always the first time</i>. I, sobbing, confused, mad, and hurt ask him again "do you know anything about this?" He yells again. "I had nothing to do with this! Why would I steal my own stuff come on!" He turns to the police and says "fingerprint me. Do whatever. I had nothing to do with this!" <i>I want so badly to believe him but </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><i>she saw him</i></span><i>. And she sees everything. I am spinning. this is too much. Not my son. God please no..........</i>....To be continued.</span></div><div><br />
</div>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-41411713998334926662012-01-18T05:23:00.000-08:002012-01-18T05:23:05.184-08:00Busted- Skipping School Part 2<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Let us resume where we left off shall we? And if you missed it then feel free to check out the<a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2012/01/busted-skipping-school-part-1.html"> beginning of the story by clicking here.</a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">So the boys had skipped school, I busted them, and beat them, then gathered them up in their </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">PJs</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> and headed off to the middle school. I make a big scene pulling up and then yanking open the sliding door. Marlon gets out and walks slowly into the school. When we arrive at the office the receptionist says "Oh you found him." I say "yes, he was at home. I want to check him in please." She informs me that because it is so late in the day he will be counted absent. I tell her "I don't care, check him in anyway." His eyes are red from crying. She asks him if he is okay. He does not respond. I inform her that he had received a spanking and was in huge trouble. I also informed her that if the school had any concerns and felt the need to contact any authorities due to my corporal punishment do so now and I will wait right here because I was going back to work and do not need the any further interruptions. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">I know it was bitchy but one time before my son had gotten suspended from school and we spanked him. His brother went to school a</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">nd</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> told the teacher his brother was not in school because he had gotten a s</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">panking</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> (which was not why he was not there by the way) but anyways the school called me and asked if I had indeed spanked my son. I informed them that I had and they told me it was illegal to hit my kid and if they heard that again they would be bound by law to report me. </span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The receptionist looked at me and looked at him and then said "</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">hmm</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> you gotta do what you gotta do". I thanked her for her time and returned to my vehicle where my other son was waiting. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">We drove in silence to his school and as I got out of the vehicle he looked mortified. I walked with him into the school office and said that I wanted to check him in. The receptionist looked at his attire and then back at me as I waited for some comment. She kept looking at my son with concern. He stood there in silence. There were other students in the office so I'm sure that made it worse. She asked him if he was okay. I gave him the look. I then informed her that he had received a spanking and if she needed to report it or whatever do so now and I'll just wait. She seemed shocked. She asked me to wait a minute while she checked protocol. I mean seriously this was ridiculous. This kid is twice my size. She returned and then asked me if I wanted to speak with someone. I asked her "what for?" She said "well you seem upset." I said I was but did not need to talk to anyone. What I really needed was to be able to return to work and not to receive attitude when I call here to see if my son is in school. She said okay. And I was free to go. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As I pulled out of the parking lot I receive a call from the high school. I immediately think "great I am going to be arrested for spanking my giant son." I answer. The lady on the phone informs me that she just realized who I was and she wanted to let me know that earlier that day she had received a phone call from someone claiming to be the father of my son. He just wanted to inform the school that Michael was living with him and that my contact number should be deleted from the contact list and replaced with a new number which just happened to be my sons cell number. The school said they knew it </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">wa</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">s student because his voice cracked a couple times. And they had been planning to contact me about it. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I was floored. I would never have thought in a million years that he would be that conniving. It appears I have entered into a new phase of parenting. One I dislike very much and one that will surely age me before my time.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uOCSlmlC-sI/TxHCThppvxI/AAAAAAAAAk0/kaKd5X70f_8/s1600/tomb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uOCSlmlC-sI/TxHCThppvxI/AAAAAAAAAk0/kaKd5X70f_8/s320/tomb.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Now that I know what a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">lil</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> sly fox I am dealing with I am going to have to step up my game. Needless to say the punishments were bountiful and continuous. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Question If you have a teen have you experienced skipping?</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And if not than did you skip school?</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-19917341579004522292012-01-16T05:38:00.000-08:002012-01-16T05:38:35.773-08:00Busted- Skipping School Part 1<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Lets go back a bit shall we? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/11/just-lil-suspect.html">Remember this lil adventure?</a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well I thought I nipped that skipping shit in the bud. My kids have always had a healthy fear of me and I have enjoyed that part. A lil slip on their end.... I swoop in and put my foot down and easy peasy all goes back to harmony at home. Well apparently the bigger your kids get the less scared they are of you. Let me explain,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I am at work <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: line-through;">chilling,</span> I mean working hard and decide to shoot Marlon's (13) teacher a lil email to follow up on some late assignments he had. She responded and at the end of her email she added "I hope he feels better." I thought that was an odd statement so I emailed back asking "is he not feeling well?" She informs me that homeboy is not even at school today. I immediately call the middle school to confirm this and it is so. I then call my oldest sons high school where I am told by some idiot that she can only tell me at the <i>end </i>of the day if he was there or not. I explain that I suspect he is skipping. She informs me that I <i>"will know for sure when I get the attendance call at 8pm"</i>. 8pm it is 11am! That is not reasonable. I am annoyed to say the least.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I leave my job and head home. I park one street over and jog to my home (okay I walked fast) but that is neither here nor there. I did not want them to hear my car. I wanted to use the element of surprise. Just as I had been surprised to find they were not at school.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I approached my home my adrenaline is going. I turn the key I hear "oh shit, someones here." Then I hear feet running. Idiot kids, where are they running to? I enter the home and yell "get out here now!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I survey the scene. Oh Honey there are soda cans all over the table. (My kids are not allowed to drink soda much and there are several Mountain Dew cans on the table.) <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">My </span>sodas!!! Several of them! The TVS are on all the lights are on, and what's that smell?? No its not weed, it's something baking. Oh these fools are baking Christmas cookies! I scream again "get out here!" The two boys sheepishly appear in the hallway. They have on their Modern Warfare PJ's and slippers. The heat is blowing at a tropical temperature and I am pissed. I immediately grab a belt and go to whopping some ass. Honestly I rarely ever spank my kids. Seriously. Especially these two because they are bigger than me and it doesn't hurt them really anymore so it is ineffective. But I was pissed. As I chase them through the house over the couch behind the entertainment center swinging my belt I land a few good hits. Unfortunately I also hit myself about 5 times with the buckle. I am hollering at them "oh so you guys don't think school is necessary? Dead beats!" etc. After the beat down I tell them to get their back packs. I busy myself with a pair of scissors cutting the cable connection to their room. I load up all the Xboxes, IPods, TVs etc into my van. I am furious. I observe my son picking out some school clothes. I say to him "No, You are going like that." "I can't go to school in my PJ'S" he says "Oh yes you will! And you would not have to had to had you kept the clothes on you had this morning when you pretended to go to school!" They look at each other like <i>she is crazy</i>. I inform them that Yes, Yes I am indeed crazy. And I tell them to get in the van and I mean now. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I head of fin the direction of the school. Wanna know what happened at school? Stay Tuned. That post is coming soon.</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-71658627968078725832012-01-11T05:43:00.000-08:002012-01-11T05:43:32.563-08:00I'm Still Here<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">It's been over two months! I have had blogger withdrawal. This blog is my sanity point. It serves as my virtual journal, and is cheaper than therapy. I cannot tell you the amount of times lately that something goes down in my day and I think "Oh god I need to blog this". But time,,time,,time where does it go? So much has changed in the past few months. Some for the good some for the bad and some just change period. Don't give up on me blog followers, for my new years resolution is to resume blogging. So I will start today writing posts about what has been happening and hopefully nothing will mess up my blogging time and I will be able to consistently blog again. So I am still here. I am still alive and kicking and as always I have jaw dropping tales to tell. Stay tuned. WELCOME 2012!</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-82754901311780955572011-11-04T05:50:00.000-07:002011-11-04T05:50:34.412-07:00Dealing With A Drunk, Sooo 2010.<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9o8Hiff5Z2Q/TrKN-7n1c1I/AAAAAAAAAjs/yXoewefIH9E/s1600/1920s3410_gangster3306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9o8Hiff5Z2Q/TrKN-7n1c1I/AAAAAAAAAjs/yXoewefIH9E/s200/1920s3410_gangster3306.jpg" width="122" /></span></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u9obpZ411-4/TrKOAKcwWnI/AAAAAAAAAj0/NRuWeV2Dyw4/s1600/A-Flapper-IN-red-black.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-u9obpZ411-4/TrKOAKcwWnI/AAAAAAAAAj0/NRuWeV2Dyw4/s200/A-Flapper-IN-red-black.jpg" width="150" /></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tried to avoid it. But as I am catching up on my blog reading I notice <i>EVERYONE</i> did a Halloween Post. So In the interest of following the crowd, I will too. I attended a party with my coworker/friend, her husband and David. We decided to dress as a theme together. First bet was the cast of the Jersey Shore but then decided to be gangstas and flappers from the 50's. Here is what they look like. Just so ya know.</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here is how we did it...</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rkVnIZZnVEk/TrKPvAiDEhI/AAAAAAAAAkE/-NiEIA8wIsI/s1600/the+boys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rkVnIZZnVEk/TrKPvAiDEhI/AAAAAAAAAkE/-NiEIA8wIsI/s200/the+boys.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bJyyBoiTcNk/TrKPvjHMyOI/AAAAAAAAAkM/ZdFszP8GU_I/s1600/us.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="152" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-bJyyBoiTcNk/TrKPvjHMyOI/AAAAAAAAAkM/ZdFszP8GU_I/s200/us.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eXfbNPzztqQ/TrKP66ZyiyI/AAAAAAAAAkU/Bn6we0FW3wY/s1600/mail.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="183" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-eXfbNPzztqQ/TrKP66ZyiyI/AAAAAAAAAkU/Bn6we0FW3wY/s200/mail.jpg" width="200" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Whatcha Think? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My job was having a kids party so I took the lil ones there and we headed over to the adult party. Last year David drove so he was not allowed to drink at all. This year I had a designated driver so he could drink. I made it clear to him that <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">this party is my night</span>. I mean if you've been following me you know that David has had his share of fun nights out over the past couple years. Me, I never go anywhere kid free. So this is my one time a year to let loose and have a few. Here is the problem. David also felt the need to let loose. He drank and drank and drank. Aftershock, Vodka, Tequila, Beer, Wine. everything! In the beginning we were both having a few drinks but then one of us, <i>Ahem.</i> decided to <i>really</i> have good time. He was on his best behavior at the party. But literally within 20 minutes of our exit it all went to hell in a handbasket. There was a drinking game at the party see..... </span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-skFxfXakcPQ/TrKRHUdhKrI/AAAAAAAAAkc/k0zUU7jRR0Y/s1600/party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-skFxfXakcPQ/TrKRHUdhKrI/AAAAAAAAAkc/k0zUU7jRR0Y/s320/party.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Drinking games are basically a way to binge drink. I played too but I cheated like hell. I pretended to take shots. <i>tehehehehe </i>See we had to pick our kids up and although we did not have to drive, <i>someone </i>had to be of the conscience and sober mind to get them settled to bed. And once I saw party boy downing shot after shot, I sadly realized that someone would be me. Luckily he held it together at the party but soon as we left all that alcohol must have registered because David was SUPER ANNOYING! When you are sober nothing is worse than a drunk. Oh good lord he went from telling me that "I was not his mother"<i> Which by the way, I pretty much am....</i> to telling me how much he loved me and appreciated me. It was 30 minutes of bitching about me to 30 minutes of praising me. He even felt the need to rehash his apologies for his behavior while we were separated. We had already put that baby to bed in July. I did not need the drunk verison. Uggh. And he would not shut up! Hour after hour. The worst part is he felt the need to be very close while he poured out his drunken heart. Like right up in my face close. So close the alcohol burned my eyes. Eventually he passed out. But the next day my bedroom reeked of alcohol. I had to strip the linens, Febreeze the curtains etc. So I had an alright time but it would be nice to be the careless one sometime and not have to babysit him. Maybe next year. On the upside I got some great FB pics. But have you ever had to babysit a drunk? Oh god it is so annoying! I was supposed to be the one all toasty and shit but....</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-75245581408341922382011-11-02T05:29:00.000-07:002011-11-02T05:29:46.892-07:00Just a lil Suspect.....<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I arrive home last Monday afternoon I notice Marlon (teenage son) is cutting the grass. Hmmm That's odd.<i> Because A- he never cuts the grass and B- the grass had just been cut two days prior.</i> I immediately roll down my window and ask "what are you doing?" He responds "cutting the grass." "Yeah, but why?" I ask. "Just wanna" he says. My mommy BS sensor is on high alert. I circle the driveway and as I pull into the other side to park I notice Michael (other teenage son) washing windows. Okay, something has definitely gone down. I ask him "why are you doing that?" He smiles and says because "we love you mom." <i>Yeah. </i><i>Something is</i><i> definitely up.</i> I remove my keys from the ignition and step out of my van. I approach him head on. "What did you guys do?" I ask. He has a look of guilt. "Nothing" he says. "Then why the hell are you guys out here doing yard work?" I ask suspiciously. "Oh we just wanna make the yard look nice." <i>Bullshit</i>. "Did you break something?" I ask "No" he says. "Did you get in trouble at school?" nope he replies. "Was someone in my house while I was at work?" "No Mom, we just wanna help you out."<i> </i><i>Hmmm</i><i> I </i><i>ain't</i><i> </i><i>buying</i><i> it.</i></span><br />
<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I unlock the door and step inside and my house is spotless. I mean don't get me wrong I got pretty decent kids and it is their responsibilty to have the house clean before I arrive home but this...well this is different. <i>Floors have been mopped. laundry has been done. No something is definitely up.</i> I search around to see what have they broken. I think immediatey of my newest prized possession, a wax burner. I run to the living room, expecting to see it smashed or something. <i>Nope. It's not smashed. Oh I l know, they probably cracked it and glued it back together. We've all done that right? </i>I pick it up and inspect it. Nope no wax burner damage. I go outside to drill the younger one. He always tells. I approach him. He is in a cold sweat cutting grass with such a passion. I signal for him to cut the mower off. He does. I hit him with all the questions I hit his brother with. He says "mom I can't talk right now, I gotta get this grass cut before it gets dark." And he cranks the mower and moves on, never quite making eye contact with me. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Puzzled I go back into my house. I search everything, everywhere. I find nothing. I go back outside and get both boys and say "I know you did something and it must be bad, so spill it." The youngest looks at the oldest like <i>Oh shit she knows. </i>The oldest plays it cool. "God mom can't we just be helpful?" "Yes" I reply "helpful taking out the trash, straightening up, but this is not helpful this is suspect." <i>So much work had been done. </i>They would have had to have worked from the minute school let out until now to complete it all. I try a few more ways to get the info out. But they are not budging. I go back inside but watch them from the kitchen window as they have an impromptu meeting. I am assuming to get their story straight. <i>They are breaking</i> I think. The little one looks worried. The oldest, cool as a cucumber. As I prepare various torture treatments in an effort to get the info I so need, I keep a watchful eye on them. Still working. I get the water boarding materials together, hot sauce, check the cellar in which they will be locked until they confess and check my interrogator face in the mirror. And then out I go to do battle. These boys will not get away with whatever they have done. I am determined. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I approach them again and I say "you know I know you did something and its bad." They just stare at me straight faced. "I know. I may not know what, but I will not rest until I find out." I warn them. I give them my scariest face. The little one looks at the big one like <i>I'ma tell</i> The oldest looks back at him like <i>tell and die. </i>I walk off and around the corner where I can sneak up on them on the other side and eavesdrop. Marlon says "dude she knows she knows." Panic is imminent in his voice. Michael replies "oh come on, that's just her way of tricking us. Stay strong man don't be a snitch. She doesn't know" "No man I can tell she knows" Marlon is truly worried. "She knows nothing!" Michael snaps at him "Now stick to the plan, and don't let her shake you up!" <i>Oh so they have a plan? Ha well I have a plan too. I gotta get the lil one away from the big one so I can break him. Divide and Conquer.</i> I ask Marlon to pull the trash cans around. When he does I am waiting for him in the backyard. "Spill it kid!" I say. "I uh, oh, mom, Um. Okay." He stammers. Just then the oldest comes running around. He has figured out what I am up to! "Hey Marlon, come here dude I gotta show you something" "No! thats it!" I yell "Tell it!" "Promise you wont be mad?" Marlon asks. "Hell no I don't promise. Fess up!" "But I don't wanna get in trouble" he whines. He is clearly scared. "Oh it will be much worse if I hear about it somewhere by someone else. If you tell me it will be less severe." "Let's just tell her Michael" he says pleading with his brother. "Tell her what man?" the oldest says "there is nothing to tell!" I keep my eyes on Marlon, never breaking away, he can feel the pressure. "Okay! okay" he yells. "We skipped school!" BINGO!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then silence. I say simply "okay" and turn and walk into the house. Not another word. They laid low for the next hour. Fast forward to dinner. "So are we in trouble?" asks Marlon? "Yup" I say. "But we worked hard all day isn't that punishment enough?" he asks. "Nope" I say. Well what is the punishment?" he asks. "Oh it will fit the crime" I say. "Are we getting a spanking?" (this is funny b/c Marlon has had two spankings in his lifetime) Marlon informs me "Michael said if we got caught he would take double punishment because it was his idea." Michael pipes up "yeah if we got caught, not if you fold!" "Duh dumb boys did you not know that the school calls me when you are not there?" I remind them. "Yeah, but we were gonna try to ask to use your phone around that time and intercept the call" Marlon further confesses.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I grounded them for a week. Took away two weeks of allowance, and then I called the school and ratted them out. That last part I kept to myself. I waited two days to do it so that just when they thought they were clear BAMM! More punishment. Three days later they come home from school and both boys are pissed. Micheal says "Mom did you tell the school I skipped?" "Sure did" I say. "Why that was between us!" he says as if I owed him some alliance. "Oh because it is illegal to skip school not to mention immoral." I inform him. "Well you already punished us and now we are getting punished at school too!" "Good" I say and smile. The school informed me since they never made it to campus that day they actually could not do anything. But I used my clout with an administrator and he had the school resource officer show up and meet with him and the boys in his office to shake them up. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And, for now at least, there will be no skipping for a while. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-24124385909290939652011-10-27T06:50:00.000-07:002011-10-27T06:50:55.072-07:00When Nicotine Makes You Drop Your Morals (war of the neighbors final part)<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is the end of the Neighbor war...until the next one. If you wondered <a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/10/war-of-neighbors.html">how the war started</a> you can click it and find out. Or if you are curious how the whole <a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/10/war-of-neighbors-part-2calling-it-what.html">racism</a> thing played out you can read part two. But when I left off, the neighbor and I had just had a bit of a nasty exchange over the phone when I had to go. Although things got yucky, I am the type of person who can dish it, take it, then move on. Which is what I expected to happen. I figured I would not go to the party to keep the neighbors emotions in check. I did want to go but I did not need any additional drama. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">David and I discussed it, he is closer to them than I and he really wanted to go but again we decided to just lay low. Around 6:30p the neighbors son came and knocked at the door. I invited him in and he said "my mom and dad want to know if you guys are coming or not because there is plenty food and celebration." I made up some excuse and told him that my daughter had a bit of a cold so her being out at night was not good. He looked sad and left. I felt bad. I felt mad that I allowed the lady next door to influence me in such a way. I just honesty did not want to be in the drama. Two hours later a relative of the family that knows David came by and again asked if he was coming over. David told him he would not be attending because he had lots to do around the house and that was that. We both sat there felling bad about it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next day I did not hear or see the neighbor which is extremely odd. Neither did I the next day. Her blinds stayed closed all day. I was enjoying the peace but knew for sure when two days passed she was pissed. Which pissed me off. If I knew she was gonna act stank anyway I would have went. I also knew she was mad because she is on a fixed income but she smokes and from the 15th thru the 3rd (when she receives her check) I am her tobacco provider (another post all in itself) And I could imagine she was having quite the nicotine withdrawals. So for her not to call or come by to borrow some cigarettes told me she was pissed. On the third day I saw her on the side of my home walking her dog. Me and my two oldest kids were headed out to the grocery store. Usually if she is outside and sees us she beelines it to where we are then holds us hostage with her griping for an hour or so. She saw us come out and made no moves?? </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Maybe she feels bad about things now that she has had time to reflect so as I pulled out of my driveway I smiled and waved just to let her know we were cool. When I did that I swear she seemed to roll her eyes and turn her back to me! I was shocked! I then thought oh Roc, maybe you're imagining the eye rolling surely she is not <i>that </i>crazy. But when my oldest said "what is wrong with Jane why did she just roll her eyes like that at you?" I knew I was not crazy. If she is pissed at me than so be it. Let the war on this side begin! Thursday nothing from her again. Quiet as a mouse over there. Friday I pull up and she is outside walking her dog. Since she obviously has an issue with me I did not wave or say hello I went in to get my jacket and was headed back out to get in the car to leave and she came over and said<i> coldly</i> "hello" I <i>icily</i> said back "Well hello. I thought you were mad at me?" <i>Shit lets call it out and deal with it because I did not have time for her shit. </i>She then says "No I thought <i>y</i><i>ou</i> were mad at <i>me.</i> I've been worried sick that you were upset." She puts her head down in her miserable-sympathy- evoking fashion. <i>Always the victim</i>. <i>Oh no I </i><i>thought.</i><i> You are </i><i>not</i><i> getting away </i><i>with</i><i> it that easily</i>. I then said to her "if you were not mad then why did you roll your eyes at me?"<i> (</i><i>don't</i><i> </i><i>BS</i><i> me lady)</i> She said "oh I did not roll my eyes." "Oh you sure did." I retorted "even my kids noticed." She said "well if I did it was not intentional. I've just been so busy deciding if I was gonna move or stay" she says. <i>More BS. She's been </i><i>threatening</i><i> to move </i><i>since</i><i> she got here.</i> She wants us to beg her to stay. "Well you obviously had a problem I say because when I waved you did not wave back, so if you did not roll your eyes, you definitely threw some attitude at me." She stammered around for an excuse for her behavior then said "oh no I knew you were in a hurry and I did not want to keep you." BULLSHIT!!!! Because, She has never cared if I was in a hurry or not! Never! Not once! Even when I have said I am in a hurry she will go on and on. Uggh. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So I said "oh well a wave is not a time sucker it's just a wave." I kept at it because I wanted her to admit she was mad so we could hash it out. She tried changing the subject and it took a mere minute before she said "well I have been without smokes for days. Could I borrow a couple?" Aha! I knew it! If she was not mad she would have been over asking for cigarettes! She then told me how she tried to make it without them but is having such withdrawals her head is pounding and she just can't go any longer without one. Further proof she was pissed. Remember this lil statement she made to me? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #663208; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">"<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">well You're better than me! I suppose you can just drop your morals and turn a blind eye to what's going on around here in the interest of good food!"</span></i> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #663208; line-height: 18px;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;">It was really hard to not point out that she was dropping her morals for a smoke. </span>I wondered then if I did not have something she so desperately needed would she have even spoke? Doubtful. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Anyways. Since that night we have started talking again, barely, but I have a whole new feeling about her. She has always annoyed me but I felt that she was helpless and needed my help. Now? Not so much. Now I feel that she will turn on you in a second should you not agree with her. Well lady you have met your match because although I gave up what I felt I should do to prevent her feelings I am done with that. And we have entered a new realm of reality she and I. </span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-32804486567344995912011-10-20T06:57:00.000-07:002011-10-20T06:57:49.523-07:00War of the Neighbors Part 2....Calling It What It Is.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The <a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/10/war-of-neighbors.html">Neighbor War</a> started here in case you missed it.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Okay let's pick up on the story. The next day was Saturday...Party Day! I got up early and headed out to run some errands. Although completely irritated by the drama, I did feel bad for the neighbor (white lady) because she is an emotional wreck and I appear to be one of her two treasured friends. So I braced myself and gave her a call. I asked her how she was feeling and she said "oh I'm fine. I'm just keeping an eye on those people." She asked me if I planned on attending the "murderous festivities" next door. I simply said I was not invited. This is when she informs me that I was invited and apparently she was too. She tells me that an hour before the whole pig slaying event she was out walking her dog when she was approached by the Mexican woman next door. She said the woman approached her asked if she liked good food and the neighbor, hell we need to name her, so we'll call her Jane. Jane said yes I do and then the Mexican lady, we'll call her Judy, said "we are having a party to celebrate my baby's baptism and everyone is invited. Would you please consider coming by?" Then Jane tells me she responded by saying "if I can. And then I<i> even</i> reached out and shook her<i> Mexican hand.</i>" That comment "Mexican hand" really pissed me off. Jane tells me that Judy left an invitation on my door which Jane removed once the fighting began because she knew "I would want no parts of their fiesta". Again I am getting more angry. She<i> removed an invitation from my door?! </i>That would be getting addressed very soon.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Since I was not home I ask Jane "are there many people there?" She said "oh its been up and down I have counted 11 different vehicles coming and going." I asked her "well is it loud?" I was tryna gauge what I was in for when I got back to my home. She said yes. <i>(I called David after and he said he heard nothing)</i> She then tells me that she had placed a call to our property owner and he came over and the both of them, Jane and the property owner, stood on Jane's porch and glared at them to "send the message that they were being watched". Again this comment and behavior annoyed me.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She told me that the Mexicans came over and brought the property owner a plate and invited him also. He spit in the food and threw it away. Jane thought that was hilarious. I was outraged! My blood was boiling and I just did not know how much more I could stand without voicing my true thoughts. Torn between being cordial with the neighbors and not totally alienating Jane which would lead to having to deal with another breakdown of hers I said "well if they send me a plate I'm definitely eating it." There was silence on her end and finally she asked "you are?" "Well, yes I am" I say. Her voice turned venomous and she asked "so do you plan on attending this lil fiesta?" "You know I'd really like to stop by as a courtesy, my kids <i>do</i> play with their kids and I did see a bouncy house on their lawn when I left. Not to mention I love me some Mexican food." She then said "well You're better than me! I suppose you can just drop your morals and turn a blind eye to what's going on around here in the interest of good food!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Trying to throw a bit of humor in it because I could feel it coming on I said "yup you know I'll do anything for food, hell I'd trade one of my kids for the right meal" I started to laugh. I notice she is not laughing. She says "well I'd be careful who I hang out with because the first sign of noise or anything at all I'm calling the cops and unless you wanna be there when they get there I would not go." <i>Is that a threat?</i> Hmmm I say as I ponder that. I have no reason to be concerned about the presence of police.. Then comes the voice cracking on her end and shes says "oh Roc, if you go then they will think I am just some crazy lady down here starting stuff." <i>Well </i><i>ain't</i><i> ya?</i> Jane then begins to choke up as she says "I thought you were against what happened here." "I am" I explain, "but because I do not agree with a specific thing a person does doesn't mean I am better then them." "Well I for one have a moral fiber?" she retorts. <i>Hmmmm</i><i> sounded like she was saying I did not</i>. Having enough now I responded with "I for one, am not a racist!" Jane yells "I am not a racist!" "Oh but you are" I say. Just admit it!" "No I'm not!"she yells again. "Listen just be honest. I can accept you for who you are, but you need to be honest with who you are and you are a racist!" "I was invited to that party" she says angrily and as a matter of fact I even shook her Mexican hand!" I paused wondering if she had any clue what she sounded like then said "case in point "her Mexican hand" Racist." "Okay okay maybe I am!" she yells. "I have had many experiences with non Americans and they have not been pleasant. Then she begins to explain that her parents were racists..<i>shocker there right? </i>But seriously at 50 you should have formed your own opinions. My mother was a racist too but I knew at 7 years old that was wrong and I was not one. She then says "my father fought in the war and to his death bed hated Germans and Koreans." I said "look I get that your generation can be that way but I am from a different time and my world is not that way. Neither do I want to be around it. You are entitled to your opinions and views but I do not share them and prefer to not deal with them." Just then I had another call beep in so I told her I would talk to her later and that was that. </span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-83375036224641025122011-10-18T07:29:00.000-07:002011-10-18T07:29:57.371-07:00The War of The Neighbors<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh good lord so here we go again...The war of the neighbors. Mexicans against Americans. Not good. Here is how it went down. As I leave for work on Thursday I notice my neighbors (Mexicans)....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Disclosure: before anyone comments on me calling them "Mexicans" I do not know their names and the fact that they are Mexicans play a huge part in this story so if that offends you, x out now. Thank you and have a nice day</b>.</span></i> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...have a port a john on their front lawn. Not cool I think but I know there are about 15 people living there so I assume that they need an extra toilet. <i>Hell we have 6 people and 2 toilets and that is a challenge.</i> When I arrive at work my neighbor (white lady).....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Disclosure: Again do not comment on the fact that I call her a white lady, I do know her name but her whiteness is crucial to the story. If that offends you x out now. Thank you and have a nice day</span></i></b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">.... Calls me. I answer the phone with attitude because guess what?<b> I am at work!</b> My greeting is this "I'm at work" She says "I know and I am sorry for bothering you but did you see that port a john on their front lawn?" "I did" I say. "Well I plan to do something about that."she informs me. "Okay you should, because<b><i> I </i></b><b><i>work</i></b><b><i>.!!! </i> </b>talk to you later" I say. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Fast forward to 5pm. I m getting off and notice I have 13 missed calls! 5 of them were my neighbor. I am livid. Because I am naturally bitchy and annoyed and she knew I was working and called me so much. I call her back she answers and I say "is there a problem?" She pauses, probably shocked at my rudeness. Then she says "well yes there is." "Well what's the problem?" I ask.<i> </i>Here is the story she tells me almost just as she told me.......</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">"Well first of all <i>those Mexicans</i> have been busy as bees over there and I don't know what they are cooking up but honey they had about 5 trucks pull up and about 15 Mexican men busying themselves about the property." "Doing what?" I ask. "Oh honey they were a'sweeping and boiling large pots of water, cleaning and setting up tables. <i>I wait for the bad part</i>.....(sounds of birds chirping) She says nothing for a minute or so. I think she is shocked that I am not mad that <i>"all those Mexican men were out their boiling water and such" S</i>he begins again "they parked their cars purposely where I could not see what they were doing behind them."</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>Another Disclosure: let me explain, her house is joined to mine. I am at the end of the street she is one spot up, they are beside her. There is a driveway between her side of the house and their home. This is where most of the time they park. Actually it is where they <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">should</span> park. So they were not blocking her view. They parked where they park.</i></b></span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So immediately I am annoyed at her description of their "sneakiness". Anyhoo, she tells me she went around her house from window to window tryna get a glimpse of what they were doing. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Freaking busy body! <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Then when she couldn't get a view she decided to shower. It was then that she heard the most horrific howling sound. It was the sound of an animal in pain. When she looks out her window she sees two hogs hanging in a tree. This is not the first time there has been <a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/03/slaughterhouse-next-door.html">pigs slaughtered</a> by them. She watches in horror as the guys slit the throat of one of the hogs. Then she runs out in her nightgown and starts screaming at them "what the hell are you doing! You Mexican M-fers! You sick bastards! Where do you think you are Mexico! Get that damn pig down now! You nasty bleep bleep bleep and so on. She continues throwing racial slurs at them as they stand there in shock. Then she begins to jump up and down and throw a good ole fashion fit. At this point they begin to laugh at her. She becomes outraged that they are "picking on her" "starting things with her" Laughing at her" so she screams "okay laugh spics, I'm going to call the cops!" And she storms in and does just that. At this point the guys load up the bleeding pigs and head out. </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The police arrive and basically tell her they are not sure what the ordinances/codes are but they will go over and see what is going on . Which they do. They return and tell her that they will have to talk to the captain because they are not sure if killing pigs is illegal. She begins to shout out codes/laws at them and they tell her that for now they have removed the pigs and would not return with them until they were dead to spare her any heartache. She starts yelling at the police "did you check their papers? Are they legal? Did they have a receipt for those pigs? How do you know they are not stolen? What about sanitation code? What if the pig has a disease that is now spread across the lawns of everyone and her dog gets sick? And more stuff of the like.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">They tell her that the neighbors are having a celebration to baptize their baby. And the pigs were to be cooked. That they meant no harm and they were just following their customs and did not realize they did anything wrong. They also sent word by the police that they meant no harm. The police seem to agree with them and tell her basically to just leave them alone. She them tells them that now that they have gone over and riled them up she is not safe. That they will probably do something to her and wants to know if the police are gonna do surveillance on our street for a while. They tell her she is in no harm. She then takes the route of "I am an American! I pay your salaries! I have rights to feel safe in my home!" etc etc .At this point I am sure that they have had it with her screaming at them so they leave. She informs me that she had told the neighbors "wait until Roc finds out about this! Oh she'll have you thrown off the street!" </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I tell her to please keep my name out of her feuds. I will not have them thrown off the street. I have no such powers and have no desire to be in the middle of this feud. I explain to her that I totally do not agree with the pig killings here on on the block We are in the city limits and not out in the country where I suspect that may occur. And if I had been home I may have called the police too. I don't know what I would have done. But I would have tried to compromise with the neighbors, explain how I felt about it and that I definitely do not want my kids to hear or witness the killing of animals, but at the same time I love me some bacon. So maybe if they could kill their pigs somewhere else more appropriate, in a field somewhere that would be a good compromise. But I do not think they are bad people or illegals or killers. And I honestly felt that her complaints to the police would have been more effective had she stuck to the pigs and not all the Mexican slurs. She then began to cry and tell me that she feels horrible that ever since she moved here there has been nothing but trouble and she obviously is making it hard for me to socialize with "those kinda people". I try to calm her down and assure her I am not mad at her for she is entitled to her opinions but to keep my name out of it. I am capable of speaking up for myself. From here it goes severely down hill...Part two coming soon.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But in the meantime, so far, please tell me who do you think at this point is wrong them or her? Or neither?</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-60152372853876868012011-10-05T06:00:00.000-07:002011-10-05T06:00:36.754-07:00Another Mystery Solved By Yours Truly<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So my boys newest hobby is a lil something called airosoft guns. Kinda like BB guns but safer. I'm no fan of guns and really do not want my boys playing with them. But....I pick my battles. <a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/09/weed-post.html">Weed?</a> Airosoft? Weed? Airosoft?....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hmmm okay no weed but go ahead and shoot the shit outta each other. {Smile} Anyhoo they had to save up and purchase their own artillery. I thought that would buy me time to get them over this lil phase but nope. Funny how when <i>they</i> want something they will work like worker bees to earn the money. They were some grass-cutting, chore-doing, car-washing fools for a month or so. They earned quite a bit of cash and began ordering guns, ammo, and protective gear.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When the first guns arrived we had a lil safety lesson. And I laid down the rules. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1- No guns out and about </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2- Always wear protective gear</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">3- There is a designated area behind our home in which they can play with them. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">4- They are never allowed to aim the guns toward our home or in the general direction of civilization period.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">5- The guns must be locked up when not in use ( they were provided with a locking cabinet)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6- Only play outdoors and gun indoors must be unloaded</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">7- The guns could only be use under my supervision</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">8- No shooting animals, property or other people</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And for </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: line-through;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">my </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: line-through;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">amusement</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: line-through;"> </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">further safety measures I had them shoot each other in the rear in front of me so that could gauge the power of these guns. Because that's what the guns were for, shooting each other. Then I released them into the wild to shoot the crap outta each other. There was a time or two in which certain kids lost their privilege to play with the guns. I would catch them aiming east instead of west... that sorta thing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For a while it went well. The biggest problem I had was that they would dress up in full army gear and go into the woods to play. From my kitchen window the view of them in full camouflage walking through the woods with a seeming rifle looked scary. Honestly that did not look so good. I'm sure my neighbors were thinking "there's our next high school shooter." It <i>did</i> <i>look</i><i> </i>bad. If I had seen someone else's kid in the woods with guns I would have definitely judged her parenting. But since my neighbors are <a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/03/slaughterhouse-next-door.html">pig killing Hispanics, </a>suspected crack dealers and a <a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/07/help-help-my-light-is-out.html">psycho older lady</a> I did not really have to worry about my image. In fact it may even be good for them all to fear my children and I.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The only issue it caused me was there were eight trillion airosoft pellets at any given time rolling around on my floors. And trust me at 2am when you get up to pee and step on one.....Well lets just say it hurts. I got sick of seeing these green and white lil pellets everywhere; in my washer, dryer, vacuum cleaner etc. I instituted a fine of 75cents per pellet to be deducted from their allowances. I then had the joy of going around finding the pellets and collecting them to bring to the table at allowance day. Which went like this. "Okay I owe you $12 for chores....counting pellets, sounds of calculator typing,..... and now after the pellet deduction... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><i>you owe me</i></span>... 50cents!"</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Thank you! </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">That problem did not last long. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then came a Sunday when David and I decided to go out to eat breakfast alone. We dropped princess off at a play date and left the boys home alone. When we pulled up later we heard them running through the house yelling "they're here! they're here!" Hmmm. I tried furiously to get the lock opened fast enough to catch them red handed in whatever they were doing...Eating in the living room, watching porn, who knew?? By the time I got in, nothing just 3 lil angels sitting on the couch watching TV. Yeah right. Who do they think I am? I investigated and interrogated them to find out just what had been going down while I was away and got nothing. Even the lil one would not fess up. After I counted up my smokes, measured my alcohol and checked the backyard for footprints I had nothing so I let it go.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday I decided to open up some windows to let in some air and noticed this.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-REbiEntXbs4/ToR45KWcCDI/AAAAAAAAAjk/IAxe6NZkdC0/s1600/airsoft.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-REbiEntXbs4/ToR45KWcCDI/AAAAAAAAAjk/IAxe6NZkdC0/s320/airsoft.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hmmmm, that's odd I thought. I did not catch right on. I proceeded to the next window and saw this.....</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1PwktozyiC8/ToR5F3v1oXI/AAAAAAAAAjo/zt1_-priEXg/s1600/airsoft2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1PwktozyiC8/ToR5F3v1oXI/AAAAAAAAAjo/zt1_-priEXg/s320/airsoft2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Weird huh? What would make these holes in my blinds??? Wait a minute.....Is that a green pellet on my window sill? Why yes it is. How did that get there I wondered. Then it dawned on me..... It was shot there! Hell naw! So three lil boys lost their guns and paid for new mini blinds. And now I know what they did while I was away.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">What kinda things did you do when left home alone? Hit me with it so I can be prepared.</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-66930061744456680312011-09-27T05:39:00.000-07:002011-09-27T05:39:53.842-07:00So What if the Whole World Knows I Watch Porn (red faced)<div style="text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jikwd3OU578/ToHDeZ98QwI/AAAAAAAAAjg/sP79aygyZZE/s1600/top-10-labor-and-delivery-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jikwd3OU578/ToHDeZ98QwI/AAAAAAAAAjg/sP79aygyZZE/s200/top-10-labor-and-delivery-7.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One night a couple weeks ago I noticed my email alert on my phone was sending me mail failure messages in the middle of the night. Upon closer inspection it was telling me that my message failed to reach some recipients. I had sent no messages so I was not concerned. A day later a friend emailed me to ask what was up with the message I had sent him???</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I had sent him no message to my knowledge. I did some investigating and realized that my email had emailed EVERYONE on my contact list an email attempting to sell them Viagra and Cialis at a cheap rate online. I was horrified. Not only did it mail that to <i>everyone</i> and by everyone I mean teachers, principles, work contacts, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><b>t</b></span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">he pastor</span></b> etc, but it had shared everyone's email address with everyone else. I had no clue why or what to do about it so I did nothing.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">A few days later I checked my work email and I had an email from my personal account. I opened it not thinking and guess what? It was a porn link. And guess what else apparently I had emailed everyone that porn link. I was horrified. I sent everyone an apology email explaining that I did not know why that happened but I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">definitely</span> did not send out porn to the pastor. This happened maybe three times and then a friend told me I had a malware virus? I installed some protection and disabled my mail feature on my phone which is where I suspect it came from and as far as I know it has stopped. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But OMG how freaking embarrassing is that? A techy person told me that can happen when you visit a porn site. That a virus can attack your phone and do things like send out emails to attack other peoples stuff. He also told me that you do not get a porn virus unless you have been to a porn site and apparently everyone but me knew that. *Gulp*</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I may or may not have checked out a porn site on my phone one evening. Why am I telling everyone? Because apparently everyone already knows! I'm going to go change my identity now. But before I go have plastic surgery I just wanted to warn all you PTA soccer moms that be careful what you do online because your secret is not safe and you could end up like me and the dirty lil secret can be exposed. I can literally hear the teachers in their staff meeting saying "no wonder Marlon is failing English, his mother's addicted to porn". Oh the shame!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-66630823572807276902011-09-22T06:31:00.000-07:002011-09-22T06:31:12.679-07:00The Weed Post<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sJ2bxclThUg/Tns1VWSWTYI/AAAAAAAAAjM/ewsGFmlculE/s1600/marijuana-leaf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sJ2bxclThUg/Tns1VWSWTYI/AAAAAAAAAjM/ewsGFmlculE/s200/marijuana-leaf.jpg" width="199" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Having teen boys is both fun and entertaining but sometimes it can be stressful trying to find the medium. As my boys mold into men it is a constant challenge for me to find the balance between mommying them and letting them grow and learn life lessons on their own. I recently faced a challenge that was my hardest to date and wanted to share that and get some feedback.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My boys often will go down to our local park and play football with a bunch of kids from the nearby high school and middle school. I am one of those moms that constantly check up on them. <i>Why? </i>Because soon enough they will be out and away and I will not be able to check on them so while I can, I do. I also follow up on everything they do to ensure they are where they say they are and doing what they say they are doing. <i>Why?</i> Because I used to be a teenager. Last week my boys called to tell me they were going to the park to play football. About an hour later I rode by the park as I do every time just to peep out the scene. They were there with about 6 other guys sitting on a bench waiting for the rest of they guys to show up. I rode by and went about my business. I knew they would be there but I still come through so that they know<i> "mom can roll up at </i><i>anytime."</i> I generally will check once and that is it but this day I thought I'd shake things up a bit. I decided to do a repeat drive by an hour or so later. This time I parked out of sight. I could see them they but could not see me. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Psycho</i><i>?</i> Naw, I just want to make sure my kids are not involved in any situations that they should not be. I parked my van about a block away and behind a tree lined area to begin my surveillance. The very first thing I noticed was our small town bad ass, we'll call him Aaron. My boys used to be friends with Aaron and his brother Danny until I found out they had been arrested many times and were really some bad kids with an unfit mother. So my boys have been instructed to no longer hang with those guys for about a year now. Problem is these boys walk to school too and live close by so they are around so to speak. So anyhoo I see Aaron. I am immediately pissed that Aaron is there. The next thing I notice is Aaron is smoking! And the next observation I make is Aaron is smoking weed. It was obvious from the way he held the joint. You do not hold a joint the same way you hold a cigarette.I was furious! I put my car in drive ready to roll up and cause havoc, call the law, show my ass that kinda thing. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I thought for a minute, put my car back in park and thought better to observe for a minute and see what my boys did. I was certain I would see them hit the weed. Not that I think they smoke at all but there was 12 guys there and I know peer pressure can be hell.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vpl8IRRTWHE/Tns2Yu7bvqI/AAAAAAAAAjY/oYoO6KkDMF4/s1600/peer-pressure.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vpl8IRRTWHE/Tns2Yu7bvqI/AAAAAAAAAjY/oYoO6KkDMF4/s200/peer-pressure.gif" width="200" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I watched Aaron make a big show of smoking the weed right there in public and then to my horror I saw him hold up the joint to my oldest son as if offering him a toke. My body went stiff as I waited to see what my son would do. Those two seconds were the longest two seconds of my life. I held my breath. My son shook his head "no". The boy seemed to persist that he give it a pull and still my son shook his head. Aaron then turned to my other son. Now this son is a goody-two-shoes so I knew he would say no especially if his older brother said no. As predicted my other son said No too.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Cq9tM1KGUis/Tns1dAifHBI/AAAAAAAAAjQ/hvWn6fSXgUA/s1600/peer-pressure.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then an amazing thing happened I saw Aaron offer a hit to all the boys holding the joint up like anyone want some and they all said No. Not one taker in the entire group! That was my single most proudest parenting moment to date. I cannot explain the pride and love I felt when I saw both my boys say no to drugs in a park filled with guys. I was also proud for the other boys as well and proud that my boys are making good decisions not only about drugs but the company they keep. But I was also fuming at that lil bad ass Aaron for attempting to get my kids high. So I rolled up. I pulled up to the curb, the game stopped, all the boys looked at the van. Aaron immediately tried to drop the joint slickly by his side, hoping I did not see him. I rolled down my window and said "Aaron, go ahead pick it up! I know your smoking weed." He just kinda rolled his eyes. I said again "go ahead pick it up! Smoke it up! If your own mother don't give a damn about you down here getting high and you don't care about yourself why hide from me?" I was pissed I wanted to get out an whop Aaron's ass and go find his momma and beat her down as well. This is the type of kid that influences others to do bad things. I then said to him "I could care less about what you do but you keep that shit away from my kids!" </span></a></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I then called my kids over to the car. I asked who had the weed and how many kids were down here smoking it. They told me two boys out of 12. Aaron and some other hispanic kid who had brought the weed to the park. I told warned them "you better not engage in this at all! You never know when I'm gonna roll up." They nodded and went back to play ball. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was then the hardest parenting moment. I wanted so badly to get my kids in the car and take them home I did not want them around this. But I realized they have to face these types of challenges and make choices without me. They are young men now, not my little babies I can swoop up and keep safe watch over 24 hours a day. So against my bleeding heart I drove home and left them there. Hoping and praying that Aaron did not eventually wear them down. It was so hard to realize that I cannot protect them from this and god knows what else. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When my boys showed up for dinner I did a marijuana check, check the eyes smelled their fingers for the scent of smoke and even monitored how much dinner they ate. We talked about the situation and I told them I had been watching and say them say No. I was so very proud of them. I just hope they stay strong enough to keep saying no.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Wondering what other parents would have done in that situation?</span>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-18047372527659803262011-09-20T05:57:00.000-07:002011-09-20T05:57:24.767-07:00My Summer Wrap Up Poem With Pics<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Summer started out with a real big smile.</span></span><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We loaded up the kids for a trip to Wet N Wild.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qrgqJrI6aWQ/Tm4vuj5x1QI/AAAAAAAAAiA/2EEzzL2xjUs/s1600/water+park.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qrgqJrI6aWQ/Tm4vuj5x1QI/AAAAAAAAAiA/2EEzzL2xjUs/s320/water+park.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Although they look crabby they really had fun. They were just tired from all of that sun.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The trip was to celebrate MJ's birthday! But in true Princess fashion we had to celebrate many, many ways!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyZw2O50zjI/Tm4wXXo5vAI/AAAAAAAAAiE/oV2X3KZ0c5k/s1600/bday+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GyZw2O50zjI/Tm4wXXo5vAI/AAAAAAAAAiE/oV2X3KZ0c5k/s320/bday+2.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xb2L0Rhve9o/Tm4wggZifQI/AAAAAAAAAiI/C-Ugs9TDBQ0/s1600/party.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xb2L0Rhve9o/Tm4wggZifQI/AAAAAAAAAiI/C-Ugs9TDBQ0/s320/party.jpg" width="242" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then a few days later came mommy's birthday.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e9YWNdcFokI/Tm4w69wwnVI/AAAAAAAAAiM/FvLx40XtR_I/s1600/bday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e9YWNdcFokI/Tm4w69wwnVI/AAAAAAAAAiM/FvLx40XtR_I/s320/bday.jpg" width="182" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The party was fun and the gifts were all great ...</span>..</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ujk280rX4mA/Tm4xIET6bKI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/ISBohGMf0Lk/s1600/cake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ujk280rX4mA/Tm4xIET6bKI/AAAAAAAAAiQ/ISBohGMf0Lk/s320/cake.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">..until some lil snotty nosed kid blew out the candles on my cake.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eDDym8jh_g4/Tm4xVg5lycI/AAAAAAAAAiU/DKj7gqJl7aY/s1600/candles.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eDDym8jh_g4/Tm4xVg5lycI/AAAAAAAAAiU/DKj7gqJl7aY/s320/candles.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And boy was I pissed, just look at my face!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We got a Y membership and spent lots of time at the pool. Where my teens joined in senior aerobics because they are so cool.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RAlf4DmyCyo/Tm4xnZy2Q0I/AAAAAAAAAiY/etPiORwsAxY/s1600/aerobics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RAlf4DmyCyo/Tm4xnZy2Q0I/AAAAAAAAAiY/etPiORwsAxY/s320/aerobics.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then we had a cookout just the kiddos and us. Hotdogs, burgers and even a cake. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I got tipsy and rode the tractor around the neighborhood causing everyone to awake!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w7uBLe29QMk/Tm4yByKbNrI/AAAAAAAAAic/i2lSKEEeQF0/s1600/tractor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w7uBLe29QMk/Tm4yByKbNrI/AAAAAAAAAic/i2lSKEEeQF0/s320/tractor.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Oh and then there is the neighbor. Who is a part of my <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;"><i>every </i></span>day.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cL5TO-xwPOw/Tm4y8WXDZrI/AAAAAAAAAig/nTcsH30r9u8/s1600/neighbor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="175" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cL5TO-xwPOw/Tm4y8WXDZrI/AAAAAAAAAig/nTcsH30r9u8/s200/neighbor.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The only way I can get some peace from her would be to move away.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tlPKLHAkVVY/Tm4zSrPeJII/AAAAAAAAAik/T2lbejGKwKA/s1600/tubing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tlPKLHAkVVY/Tm4zSrPeJII/AAAAAAAAAik/T2lbejGKwKA/s320/tubing.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We decided to go out to the lake and jet ski with friends, that day was a blast the fun did never end!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nhAdwcSjHyA/Tm4zdeIkDiI/AAAAAAAAAio/DMxef2IJWrU/s1600/jet+ski.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nhAdwcSjHyA/Tm4zdeIkDiI/AAAAAAAAAio/DMxef2IJWrU/s320/jet+ski.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then to mundane things like checkups for the boys.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g-uT99xruVQ/Tm4z4VcJ15I/AAAAAAAAAis/Tj0J7xZpJZk/s1600/docs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g-uT99xruVQ/Tm4z4VcJ15I/AAAAAAAAAis/Tj0J7xZpJZk/s320/docs.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> They <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">love</span> when I take pics of then and post them on facebook for all to get joy!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Poor little Pooty got poison ivy ten times. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yydXl-_BiRU/Tm40RRHARII/AAAAAAAAAiw/SHJzVbGwM1E/s1600/poison.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yydXl-_BiRU/Tm40RRHARII/AAAAAAAAAiw/SHJzVbGwM1E/s320/poison.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He tried to hide it from me but <i>this</i> crossed the line!</span><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">MalloryJane's pet millipede sadly passed away</span>. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U9iZtxa1otU/TniHFMx0eBI/AAAAAAAAAi4/vun1t9VB3u8/s1600/millipede" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U9iZtxa1otU/TniHFMx0eBI/AAAAAAAAAi4/vun1t9VB3u8/s320/millipede" width="238" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">She still thinks he is sleeping, to this very day.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> We had family up for a cookout that was meant to be fun and light. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Until too many drinks caused these two to get into a fight</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Jd8jJVvFTY/TniHbTblWvI/AAAAAAAAAi8/0v4WP_UdUEI/s1600/fight.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Jd8jJVvFTY/TniHbTblWvI/AAAAAAAAAi8/0v4WP_UdUEI/s320/fight.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But the biggest surprise of the summer was my ten year old son became a lady!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> And soon after that we discovered he was having a baby!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NnMQrDEeTUI/TniH9MUnPMI/AAAAAAAAAjA/rHTXp9vZfH4/s1600/Pregnant.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NnMQrDEeTUI/TniH9MUnPMI/AAAAAAAAAjA/rHTXp9vZfH4/s320/Pregnant.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The older boys aquired a new hobby I dislike. They are adddicted to airsoft guns.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> They play then all day into the night.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AqNDa5JDzZs/TniIWJ1WAbI/AAAAAAAAAjE/0K9hvwn4dpo/s1600/Pooty+gun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AqNDa5JDzZs/TniIWJ1WAbI/AAAAAAAAAjE/0K9hvwn4dpo/s320/Pooty+gun.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The biggest event of the summer was probably when I got back together with my 12 year lover. All we did was fight for the last 4 years.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But now we are happy as larks as you can see here.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3cWM_IvoMgY/TniIsQMUYeI/AAAAAAAAAjI/YC39Oca4cQs/s1600/luv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3cWM_IvoMgY/TniIsQMUYeI/AAAAAAAAAjI/YC39Oca4cQs/s320/luv.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So as you can see our summer was full of all kinds of events and you know the deal.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> A day in Raquel's World can be such a bad trip. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But an entire summer in Raquel's World, well that is the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">SHIT!</span></span></div>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7826977458991854551.post-72811740146416387612011-09-08T06:00:00.000-07:002011-09-08T09:59:23.615-07:00Discrimination or Keeping it Real? PART 2<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This is part two to the haircut story. Part one is essential to this so check it out<a href="http://beelieveit.blogspot.com/2011/09/discrimination-or-keeping-it-real-part.html"> here.</a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
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<div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are now an hour and a half into what should have been a 30 minute or less haircut. Esther and I have gone back and forth and I am hoping she now knows what to do. "It has been a while since I cut this angular of a bob" she tells me "so I'm going to have someone come help me." She turns to Melinda and says "she wants a more angular cut and I can't remember how to do that. Could you help me?" Melinda looks annoyed I'm sure is thinking <i>look </i><i>biaatch</i><i> I have my own <span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-decoration: underline;">three</span> clients I'm working on.</i> It is now actually only just two. Melinda says "I need to wash the dye out of her hair and then I'll be right there". </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I sit and wait 10 more minutes and then Melinda comes over and looks at my head and asks "what exactly are you trying to do Esther?" Esther begins to explain and Melinda says "no, no you are going about it all wrong. You see you need to cut from the front to the back." She takes the scissors from Esther and begins cutting my hair on the right side. "See how I do this? You see how I pull each piece back to the start point? You see Esther?" She explains in haircutter language just what she is doing so that Esther can get it. Now you try. She gives Esther the scissors back and Esther cuts a piece or two of hair. "Good Esther. You got it now? Just remember, front to back, front back. Whatever you do, do not cut back to front. That will give you an entirely different cut" Melinda walks off I glance at the side Melinda has cut in less than 4 minutes, it is perfect! <i>Okay</i><i> now Esther has it.</i> Esther spins me to the wall again and starts cutting. She is muttering and mumbling and seems stressed. She calls Melinda back over to check her work out. Melinda comes over and yells "What did you do? Esther what the hell did you do? Does this side look like the side I did? How did you cut it. Did you do front to back like I told you to?" "No" Says Esther with her head down like a scolded child. "I did back to front" she says ashamed. "What did I tell you Esther? I said don't do it that way! Now you have messed it up! There is no way to fix this, just give me the scissors while I try to fix this!" she yells and starts cutting angrily at my hair. I am in the middle of this and am quite uncomfortable. But hope that at least Melinda will fix what ever the hell Esther has done to my hair. Melinda walks off annoyed and leaves Esther to "tighten up the ends."</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Esther says "I'm sorry I just couldn't do it." "It's okay" I tell her "Melinda seems to have fixed it." "Well still, I am sorry" she says again "I really am." I tell her not to worry about it it is fine. She says "I just get so nervous." "I understand" I tell her. Although I am pissed it has been over two hours and my hair is still not how I wanted it. I do not want to make her feel worse. She must be horribly embarrassed. Melinda <i>did</i> chastise her in front of everyone. But Melinda probably has to bail out Esther quite a bit and is sick of it. Anyway, Esther finally finished. The result? The side Melinda did is perfect. The other side?...not so much. But it's not horrible. But it still was better than the first style Esther gave me. I get to the front to pay and hand Esther a sympathy tip and she says "no I do not deserve it" and hands it back. I give it back and tell her "hey you tried." "No, I do not want this tip."she says. I did not even cut it right." "True, but you did spend a lot of time on it. And please give this to Melinda" I hand her an additional tip for Melinda. "She had to take time from her clients to help so she should get something." I explain. "I will give her both tips" Esther says pathetically. I just no longer have the energy to deal with this "Esther" so out the door I go! OMG what an event.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">These pics suck but since you all asked for them here ya go! You can't really tell it's lopsided but trust me it is.</span></div></div><div><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgSFikyeRPY/TmjixwCjZCI/AAAAAAAAAh4/FX_M7qvSKAQ/s1600/old+hair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JgSFikyeRPY/TmjixwCjZCI/AAAAAAAAAh4/FX_M7qvSKAQ/s200/old+hair.jpg" width="148" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Old Hairdo</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBuQLUmku28/Tmjzmc7bTFI/AAAAAAAAAh8/1HI56Zv1T_4/s1600/new+hair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="175" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hBuQLUmku28/Tmjzmc7bTFI/AAAAAAAAAh8/1HI56Zv1T_4/s200/new+hair.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">New Hairdo</span></td></tr>
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</div></div>Raquel's Worldhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00901679946676181304noreply@blogger.com8