To Sir With Love ( Lulu ) 1967

This is for Kate :)

Petula Clark - Downtown

After visiting Rick, the Palm Springs Savant, I was suddenly struck with the mood for some retro stuff. I wanted to hear some Petula Clark.
What better to put me in a good mood then Petula Clark?

My Kids Rock no, seriously.....

See this photo? Kayla entered it in a contest and she has made it through the first round of cuts. I'm not sure when we'll find out who the winner is, BUT her photo is being printed in a book. A real book, no scam. ( I checked, of course).

Can you believe it? My girls are going to be in a book! The funny thing is, that Kayla entered the contest accidentally. She didn't even mean to. Go figure.

The photo was taken in July at Jethro's Juno party, and I am convinced that he brought her good luck. I better clear off my bookshelf. I have a photographer in the family, and soon we will have a published author, and a Juno award winner......

Got nothing. Read this :)


http://wwwbiddiegirlca.blogspot.com/search?q=haunted+asylum

Oh, not the updates, scroll down just a teeny bit.

Thank you.

Told You I wasn't Crazy

I was thinking that maybe I am just being paranoid. The whole thing with the bank account, that could just be a mistake, right?

Maybe.

I haven't been able to get a library card for years, because someone had a card in my name and never returned the books. It was NOT me. The card went to an address that I have never lived at, although the rest of the information seemed correct.

Then , there was the call from the out of town video store, telling me that I owed $50 in late fees and for a dvd that was never returned. The jerk off that had the account even used my phone number. Thing is, the video store is out of town, and we don't even have a car. I explained all of this to the clerk, and he told me that "I" had been in the store several times over the past months, renting movies. I asked for a description of the person, and I was told that was personal info, and they could not give it out.....

Well, last week, someone hacked into my email account. They even changed my secret question. I couldn't get into my own email for almost two days. It took me that long to figure out the new password.

I am a little freaked out now. I'm beginning to think that paranoia is just good thinking when someone is out to get you.......

Date Night

Shawn and I are spending our date night at the movies tonight. I can't wait. The only thing better than an evening alone with Shawn is an evening alone with Shawn watching zombies on the big screen.

I am so pissed.

Big time.

I have been getting phone calls from a collection agency for about 3 months now. Ever since my charges for shoplifting were dropped, the company that tried to extort money out of me has been calling..Or, rather, sending their dogs after me.

See, Zehrs wanted me to pay the cost of their security guards, and other related costs for my arrest. They sent me a bill for over $300. As it turns out, that is illegal. (Here in Canada, anyway) and I was advised NOT to pay. My charges were withdrawn, anyway, which means that there will not even be a record of my arrest. Done. Gone. Finito. Bye - bye. So, ever since I told the reps that wanted the $300 that I am NOT paying, a bill collector has been bugging me for an amount that I supposedly owe. That amount is now $500 that they want to collect.

Now, I don't know, but it seems strange that the same company that couldn't collect an amount on bogus charges is suddenly, after 6 years, coming after me for another 'bill.'

So, I finally tracked down someone that could pull up my account, and this is what I am told.

I had a payroll cheque go into my account on December 31st, 2002. I have not worked since NOVEMBER 2001. Someone made several deposits into my bank account from a bank machine, and then took the money out. The problem? The deposit envelopes were empty. So......

The only proof that I have that I owe this money is from the company themselves, except, they say that can not send me out copies of my bank statements because it goes back too many years. How did they come up with this info, then? Where did a payroll deposit come from, a year after I quit my job?

So, this rude guy calls me today and tells me that I owe this money. I tell him, AGAIN, that I have ZERO money coming in, and until he proves to me that I owe this amount, I wouldn't even entertain the thought of making payment arrangements. He tells me that he spoke with my husband on Monday (2 days ago) and that my husband told him that I was on vacation.

Yeah.

He says that if I have money for that, then I can pay this bill.

WTF? He screamed at me to PAY MY BILLS.

I am exhausted. I am tired of all of this. I do not owe this money. I know that I don't. How do I prove it? Who do I complain about a bill collector being verbally abusive?

How do I get off this merry-go-round from Hell?

Six Years Ago

Six years ago, on September 18th, 2001, I made one of the biggest decisions of my life. I mean huge,enormous, life altering. I agreed to date my next door neighbour, Shawn.

September 11th, 2001, was a day that none of us will ever forget. It is engrained in our memories forever. I will never forget September 11th for all of the reasons that everyone never will, and for some reasons that are all my own.

I seperated from my husband in May of 2000. I had decided that I would not rush into anything, and that I would just hang with my girls for the next little while, and forget all about men, dating and all of the complications that dating men will bring to your life. I was fine with that until I moved into a little townhouse next door to the burly construction worker.

I thought that maybe he looked familiar, but I didn't really KNOW him. He was a repeat customer at the grocery store where I worked, and he was the uncle of Kayla's friend. He was also my new neighbour. He smiled shyly whenver he saw me, and almost always blushed when I said hello. I could feel my cheeks grow hotter when he spoke to me,too. He would come over to use the phone, and borrow this or that. I liked him, but I was certain that he was taken. I toyed with the idea of asking him out, but could never get up the nerve.

September 11th changed all of that. I watched the twin towers burn to the ground on tv, and thought that the world might be ending. I knew then that I would have to make a move on the hot guy next door. It was now or never. If the world was going to end, I didn't want to die alone.

Later that night, as some of the neighbours and I were sitting outside, talking about the tragedy, a man walked up to me and handed me papers. He was posing a pizza guy, and I instinctively knew that he was looking for me. I was served with court papers from Geoff, husband #2, stating that he wanted custody of Jessica. She was only 6 then, and he hadn't even seen her for months. He was behind on support, and hadn't even so much as called to ask about the daughters that he left behind. Now, on September 11th, of all days, he was letting me know that had every intention of splitting up the family, and taking away my baby. It was more than I could deal with. Scared out of my mind, I phoned Betty in Nova Scotia, and made arrangements to leave the province. I had no doubt that I would retain custody, but the road ahead seemed too long. I could NOT do this. I spent 7 years battling Rudi for custody, and dealing with the fall out from that. I was not willing to do it again. No way. I was out of there.

Betty told me that she was going to send me money to move, and even had a house for me to live in. She and Stan had recently decided to rent out their 3 bedroom townhouse, and it was empty. That same night, I started planning my escape. I would pack all of my stuff that fit a U-Haul, take my 3 kids, my dog, and split. I was outta there.

Then, something happened to change my mind.

Shawn asked me out. The guy that I had been crushing for months finally got up the nerve to ask ME out....I said yes. I had to.

For the first couple of days, he came over to my house, and the girls played with his niece while Shawn and I watched tv in the living room. We didn't even kiss until our second 'date.' I was falling in love.

Love?

Please. Could my life get anymore complicated? I was supposed to be packing my kids up and moving across the country. I wanted to run, and I wanted to stay.

I stayed. I really had no choice. Shawn couldn't leave Ontario, and I didn't want to leave him. Strange as it may sound, I was in love. (Still am)

Betty was pissed. She didn't understand how I could risk everything for a man that I had just met. I didn't know how to explain it. The girls were mad. They had been burned twice, because of the choices that I had made. They were afraid to love again.

Honestly, so was I.

We have been together since September 18th, 2001. Just one week earlier, I had cried myself to sleep, alone, and frightened. I was angry with God. Angry over the tragedy that I watched unfold on tv, and angry over the fact that I was once again, going to fight for my baby, this time without a partner.

I can't believe how much my life changed in that week. I can't believe how much my life has changed in the past six years. We have been through so much, as a couple, and as a family. We aren't perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but we are a family.

I wouldn't have it any other way.

For Jamie

Our dear blogbuddy, Jamie (Look at the sidebar, still can't do links) has just recieved some very bad news. Bad.

I wish that I could change things for her. I wish that I had a magic wand. I wish......

Well, I don't have a magic wand. I can't perform miracles. I am just me. The only think that I can do is to ask all of you to pray. Pray to whatever, or whomever it is that you believe in. I know that this can work, because you have all prayed for me. We prayed for 4D when he was sick, and we have made a difference, together. I hope that we can make a difference again.

Stop by Jamie's place and say hello. She's super sweet, and needs all of the encouragement that she can get. I don't want her to give up.

You Like Me, You Really, Really, Like Me!!

Look what I got from Whim! I can't believe that I would be picked, when there are soo many deserving people out there!



I have to pick five people now, and I don't know if I can...ONLY five? All of my blogbuddies are Nice. Beyond, infact. They are MY friends, afterall. I know that alot of my pals have already been picked, too. We are a great crowd, aren't we?

I pick Cindydianne -

She actually PHONED me when my internet was down, to check up on me. She did. Can you get any nicer than that?

Marni-
Marni phoned me, too. A couple of times. I swear, I have the BEST blog buddies EVER. (and OMG, she has the cutest voice)

Gardenia -
She has been a wonderful friend, too. The whining that she has 'listened' to is enough to make anyone crazy, but she always has time for me.

Paddy -
Paddy...What can I say about Paddy? He is a true gentleman, through and through. His posts are always thought provoking and insightful. An email or comment from him is always a reason to smile.

Dilling-
What can I say about Dilling? She rocks. No, really. I have a standing invitation to come and see her if I ever make it out west. She has one from me, too.

Honestly, I could pick all of my blogbuddies. Her Indoors has been a wonderful friend, too. I got a little card and a surprise in the mail one day, just because. Tod? LOVE him. I do. 4D? The best. Debi, Burfica, Jamie, Canadian Flake, Saly, all sweet. Captain Corky? He gives me warm fuzzies, and I think that I am in love with Max. Camie Vog...I WILL visit her one of these days. I have to meet her babies, too.

The point is, you ALL rock, and you ALL are the best. I mean it. If I didn't mention your name, just look at my blogroll. You are all there because you matter.

The Soundtrack Of My Life

My black rubber boots squeaked on the freshly mopped floor. I hate that noise. It gives me chills, and the last thing that a person wants before she walks into the dark autopsy room is a chilled to the bone feeling.
I flicked on the light switch and took a deep breath. Working as a morgue assistant wasn't exactly my dream job. It did allow me to work while the kids were in school, and put food on the table. It was a hell of a lot better than working nights at a gas station and leaving the kids alone, or going back to babysitting. Dealing with other peoples kids was about the last thing that I was willing to do.

My second marriage had come to a crashing halt less than 2 months earlier. Geoff was far from perfect, and he never held a full time job, but at least I had the illusion of a partnership before he left. Now, I was completely on my own with 3 kids, and I could have not been less prepared. I hadn't worked outside of the home in years, and the baby was still only in kindergarten.

My sea green scrubs tugged at my butt when I bent over to pick up my pen.
'Gotta lose weight,' I thought to myself. These scrubs are so damn uncomfortable. I could never understand how my sister wore hers home all of the time. Mind you, she worked 3 floors up, in x-ray, not in the bowels of the hospital, in the morgue.

I was already sweating by the time the phone rang.
'Morgue, Bridget speaking,' I spoke softly into the phone. There was something about being in the morgue that just made you speak like that. A reverence for the dead, maybe?
"Bridget?Is that you?" My mother shrilled into the phone.

'Yes, Mother. I just said that it was.'

"Oh." Silence. She ALWAYS did this. She phoned me from her office on the ninth floor, and checked up on me.

'Mother? Mom!,' I repeated, more loudly.

"Oh, yes, I thought that I would give you a ride home tonight, if you want. I brought you some raisins, and some homemade soup from The Church Ladies."

Great. So now the damn church knew that husband number two had walked on me. 'Yeah, thanks, I'll come up and see you when I'm done. The raisins...are they same as the last ones that you gave me?' I held my breath, knowing that the answer would be yes. The last batch of raisins that she sent home for me had been hand picked out of a box of Raisin Bran. One by one. It was no use trying to tell her that you could just buy Bran cereal.

She had already hung up, anyway, the dial tone was buzzing in my ear.

Back to work.

I left the autopsy room and entered the small hallway outside. This was my least favourite part of the job. I didn't like the cutting, or the removal of the organs, or the sewing afterwards (although my sewing had improved drastically over the past few weeks, I had to admit), but THIS was the worst.

Another deep breath. There was no need to double check the chart. I knew the name. I knew all of the names of everyone that I had ever worked on. I would remember this one, too.
Hannah Grant. Aged 62, found hanging in her bedroom closet, she was a deaconess at a Lutheran Church outside of town.

I touched the knob, and waited. I had this ritual, everyday. Touch, and wait. I exhaled loudly. I didn't even realize that I had been holding my breath.
Damn.

I HATED getting the bodies out of the cooler. I had nightmares about the door slamming and locking, or jamming, and getting stuck in that cold, dark, cramped room with the dead. There was no lock on the door, inside or out, so it would never happen. COULD never happen, but I was terrified anyway.

There were only 2 bodies in the windowless room. One was a man, the other was Hannah. I wheeled her out of the hallway and into the autopsy room. I took photos of her neck,and tried not to look at her bulging eyes. I couldn't imagine what could make a woman that had given her life to God give up in such a way. It took me longer than usual to transfer her from the gurney onto the operating table.

Dead weight and all.

I cut her clothes off and made certain that all of the untensils were ready for when Dr.Hong came in. I liked working with him best. The other doctor was a friend of the family, but she was a perfectionist, and much too serious. You need to keep things light in the morgue. You have to. Working with dead people could be so depressing,and you would go nuts if you didn't joke around a little bit. Dr. Hong was my mothers boss, and she was his second in command. That made her MY boss, in a round about way. Just another reason to hate this job.

I thought about my fathers death, just 1 year earlier, and his insistence that he NOT be autopsied when he died. He died of a terminal illness we had been trying to prepare ourselves for the inevitability of his passing. Your never ready, though. Ever. I thought about how proud my Dad would be of me, and all of the bad jokes that he would tell. As a monument (tombstone) salesman, he had heard all of the jokes...People are dying to get, business is dead...yada yada, yada.

I smiled despite myself. I was proud of myself. I was proud of myself for picking up the pieces and moving on. I was proud of myself for taking on a job that most other people would never dream of taking on. (I could totally do the Quincy thing was what I said to my mother when she told me about a job opening at the morgue several months earlier.)

Life could be worse. Sure, my husband was gone, but he was a bigger scrub than the two piece sea green uniform that I was wearing. I had my kids, and I had my family and friends.

Dr.Hong came into the room , carrying a coffee. "You ready, Bridget?", he asked, squinting at my face. "I can finish my coffee if you need another minute." He walked to the stainless steel counter top and put his coffee down.

'I'm ready as I'll ever be, Dr.' I turned on the old clock radio that didn't keep time, but got three stations on it.
Tubthumping was playing, and Dr.Hong started singing along with it, off key. "I get knocked down, but I get up again......"

Ready as I'll ever be, I walked to the table where Hannah lay waiting. It was a tough job, a crappy job, but it was MY job.

And I was ready.

What a week! The girls went back to school on Tuesday, and the house has been so quiet...Well, except for our little ghost girl. She came to visit on Tuesday morning. I heard her rolling something across Jessica's bedroom floor - and then footsteps running after it - for a full five minutes. FIVE minutes. Think that isn't long? Yeah, well, try listening to someone scampering around in your house when you KNOW that you are home alone. Five minutes is a LONG time. She has been very active all week. I am getting used it, but I don't like it.

I have been off of my meds for about a month now. Luckily for me, I haven't bottomed out. Unluckily for those living with me, I am feeling very manic. When I am manic, I am very UP. Think complete lunacy. Now you got the picture. Yup. Last weekend I laughed for over an hour about nothing. NOTHING. I just couldn't stop. I hate it. It's better than the other side of the coin, though. At least I'm not crying.

We are now the proud owners of a dishwasher, too. That's probably the best thing that's happened around here in ages. We got it for free. FREE. The funny thing is, for years, I have been hearing the girls say things like 'If we had a dishwasher I would empty it and put all of the dishes away. I would never complain about dishes again..' Yeah, right. It's still like pulling teeth to get any help with the damn thing.

Thanksgiving is sneaking up on us, too.(Another 4 weeks or so here in Canada). I'm not that fond of Thanksgiving, to be honest with you. Ever since I was exiled from the family, it's just another day to me. We don't have anyone to invite, and Shawn makes big meals all of the time. Yay. I miss the days of the 30+ family members gathered around the table, talking about what we are thankful for. I know that most of people weren't really family. I know it, but I miss those days just the same. If any of my blog buddies are going to be in my neck of the woods around this time next month, give me a call. We have more than enough.....

P.S. I have some new friends on the blogroll. Check them out...

You Scored an A

You got 10/10 questions correct. It's pretty obvious that you don't make basic grammatical errors.If anything, you're annoyed when people make simple mistakes on their blogs.As far as people with bad grammar go, you know they're only human.And it's humanity and its current condition that truly disturb you sometimes.

The'>http://www.blogthings.com/theitsitstheretheirtheyrequiz/">The It's Its There Their They're Quiz

The Voices In Her Head Said To GO..............

What a crazy few days it's been. Shawn has been putting in 7 days a week, and this weekend, he was forced to take Sunday and Monday off. He had no choice. You can't work alone on a construction site and nobody else would go in with him. He's pissed because we need the money, but he needed a break. I was glad to have him home. I like our little ecno dates, and, even just running errands with him is fun.....

Last Thursday was a wild day. Shawn came home early and I was dying to spend some alone time with him. We wanted to er...um...celebrate our love. So, I kind of pushed the kids out of the house. Those ones, the ones in the photo, Jessica and Kayla. Ruby too, because she is a real pain in the ass. ( Oh come on, you all do it, too, don't be making like you all are shocked)

I usually have a pretty good sense of foreboding, things to come, whatever you want to call it. I just KNOW things. I always have. I pushed my 2 youngest girls and my 7 pound dog out the dog with barely a second thought. I did pause to lock the door, because, well, honestly, I didn't want to get caught with my pants down.

Anyway, they went for a walk with Kayla's bf and his dog, and were on the way home when something scary happened.....

There is a busy intersection by a corner store up the street from us, and Shawn tells the girls to always wait for the light. ALWAYS. The road is BUSY and it freaks Shawn out. (If it were up to him, he would send the girls out in bubble wrap, with body guards, at all times...Or maybe bear suits...and pepper spray). So, they wait. They cross on the green light. Always. Except for Thursday.

On Thursday, for whatever reason, Kayla had this compulsion to run across the street against the light. She never does that. The road is too busy. She grabbed Ruby into her arms, and told her little sister and her bf to RUN.

Not five seconds after they ran across the road, a runaway car crashed into another car, raining debris down on the curb where they had been just been standing, and narrowly missing them. Kayla and bf were witnesses, and the police officer told them that if that had NOT ran the red light, they would have been killed.

That's why they weren't fined for jaywalking.

OMG. They would have been killed.

I sent my kids and my little doggie out so that I could ... um, you know..and they were almost killed.

I usually know these things. I do. The day that my Dad died, I phoned Mission Mary, and told her that today was the day...I phoned her at 10:12 am...exactly 12 hours before he passed away.

I can NOT believe that I didn't feel something was off. Thank goodness that Kayla did. She said that she just felt an urge to cross, like a voice was telling her to.... Thank goodness she got more from me than just my bad temper.

Needless to say, I am counting my blessings. I have been thanking God everyday since Thursday, and I just can't stop thinking about it.

The rest of the weekend has been largely uneventful compared to that... I did leave the house alone on Saturday and venture out to the Farmers Market (well, I took Ruby, so not quite alone) to buy tomatos and pears...Still, nothing campares to Thursday.

I am suddenly feeling VERY lucky.