Monday, March 16, 2009
A Killer On The Loose..
Merry Meet and Happy Almost Spring, Family, Friends, Followers and Lurkers!
So, this morning as I'm getting ready for work (that is what I should be doing as we speak!)I'm listening to the News and hear that there is a serial killer on the loose in New York's Inwood Hills Park!
This is exactly the way the report came through, so now I'm listening with true interest and concern. After all, New York is not that far a way from New Jersey and being as neurotic as I am, I already began making mental notes to make sure all the doors and windows were locked before I left for the day. As I continued to listen, I hear that it's not people that are being murdered, but trees. Some idiot has cut down 17 trees in Inwood Hills Park and left them to rot! Ok, so now I'm pissed and relieved all at the same time. I love trees. My husband gave me a Japanese Weeping Cherry tree the year Kyla was born. It was just a sapling when he bought it and so fragile, I had doubts that it would survive a harsh winter. That was 13 years ago and now it's big and beautiful and every Spring is covered with tiny little pink flowers!
Tree fucking murders!!!
In any case, as the story progressed, I also learned that last March, someone had cut down 35 trees. Count em' 35! Ok, so now I'm thinking. Isn't this New York City? The city that "never sleeps?" A visit to New York at any hour of the day or night will prove this to be true.
So, riddle me this? How the hell does someone cut down 35 trees, IN NEW YORK CITY and no one notices? These aren't saplings either. There big ass trees that are about 80 years old. Ok..so they aren't being cut down with a chain saw. They feel it's either an axe or a machete, but still!
Someone knows something!
Tree Fucking Murders!
In Darkness, Light!
Tracy
P.S. I'm still locking all the doors and windows...just in case!
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Still Waiting to Exhale?
Merry Meet and Greetings Family, Friends, Follower and Lurkers!
So, here I stand, faced with a crisis of conscience. Ok well, that's a big whopping lie, because it's not a crisis at all and my conscience has never been clearer.
First, let me say that I am not a vindictive person. If anything, I have often been accused of being too forgiving for my own good. A week or so ago, I received a call on my cellphone from a number I didn't recognize. I was lying down nursing a strained back, so I didn't answer it. I presumed that, if it was important enough, whomever it was would leave a message and so they did.
Later, when I listened to the message, I realized it was from a woman that was hired as the practice manager for an office I had managed several years before. And while I had long since moved on at the time she was hired, I learned through a relative who still worked with her that you couldn't speak my name in her presence without her becoming enraged. I had also learned that she enjoyed reading my blog in order to ridicule my personal life and what she believed was my lack of mental stability. Now, ya gotta know, I can count on one hand the number of times I'd actually met this person, so I found this behavior bizarre, if not a tad amusing.
One of my chance encounters with this woman came, however, at one of the most difficult and painful times of my life, on the evening of the death of my mother. My mother, who was 84 years old and had suffered from emphysema for many, many years, was in the end stage of her disease. I had spent most of day at her bedside at the hospital. My mother couldn't speak, could barely breath and was suffering from dementia. Yet, I could sense she knew who I was and that I was with her. When I looked in her eyes however, I sensed something else...fear. I felt so helpless! In my heart, I knew that this would be the last time I'd see her alive, I was terrified to leave her. Still, I had a 5 year old at home and I needed to care for her as well. The nurses assured me that they would call me immediately if there was any change. I kissed her forehead and reluctantly left for home.
A few hours later, I received a call informing me that my mother was crashing and that they had been "working on her" for 45 minutes. Working on her? Why wasn't I called!? There was no further intervention that would restore her life's quality, but instead, would merely prolong her suffering! We had signed a "do not resuscitate" order during one of the last of many hospitalizations at the recommendation of her physician! What the fuck were they doing?!
We arrived at the hospital as quickly as we could, but my mother was already gone. I was heartbroken and furious, all at once. I don't think there has been a moment quite as devastating as walking into my mother's room and seeing the woman who gave birth to me, hooked up to a monitor that was measuring her for signs of life. I stared in disbelief at the flatline across the screen and just as I did a little blip appeared on the monitor. Artifact, I was told. Bullshit!, I thought. I truly believe she realized I was there. I looked up as the nurse spoke and there, standing next to my other family members, was this woman who couldn't tolerate my existence. I truly felt that her presence there was not to comfort, but instead had a morbid, spectator-like quality, as if she found some twisted satisfaction in my suffering. I was already disoriented and grief stricken, but now also felt as if one of the most sacred moments in my life was being violated as well.
My mother's life was not the only thing that ended that night. Family bonds were irrevocably broken by the hands of guilt and greed, none of which involved myself or this woman. The day following my mother's death, I was accused of being "rude". Rude!? My mother had just died! Even if I would have allowed myself to be remotely distracted by this woman's presence, I wouldn't have wasted the last precious moments that I had with my mother being "rude" to her or anyone else.
Needless to say, along with my mother, anyone who caused me additional pain on that night, no longer exists to me now.
So there I sat, in utter disbelief, listening to this woman's nauseatingly sweet voice cooing her request for some work related information into my cell phone! I'll be honest, I got as far as "Hi Tracy, long time no hear!" "Listen, the reason I'm calling is..Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah..blah..blah. Then..."Think you can you get back to me?"
"Maybe, Lynn." "Hold your breath till I call".
"Never attribute to malice that which can adequately be explained by stupidity"
In Darkness, Light!
Tracy
So, here I stand, faced with a crisis of conscience. Ok well, that's a big whopping lie, because it's not a crisis at all and my conscience has never been clearer.
First, let me say that I am not a vindictive person. If anything, I have often been accused of being too forgiving for my own good. A week or so ago, I received a call on my cellphone from a number I didn't recognize. I was lying down nursing a strained back, so I didn't answer it. I presumed that, if it was important enough, whomever it was would leave a message and so they did.
Later, when I listened to the message, I realized it was from a woman that was hired as the practice manager for an office I had managed several years before. And while I had long since moved on at the time she was hired, I learned through a relative who still worked with her that you couldn't speak my name in her presence without her becoming enraged. I had also learned that she enjoyed reading my blog in order to ridicule my personal life and what she believed was my lack of mental stability. Now, ya gotta know, I can count on one hand the number of times I'd actually met this person, so I found this behavior bizarre, if not a tad amusing.
One of my chance encounters with this woman came, however, at one of the most difficult and painful times of my life, on the evening of the death of my mother. My mother, who was 84 years old and had suffered from emphysema for many, many years, was in the end stage of her disease. I had spent most of day at her bedside at the hospital. My mother couldn't speak, could barely breath and was suffering from dementia. Yet, I could sense she knew who I was and that I was with her. When I looked in her eyes however, I sensed something else...fear. I felt so helpless! In my heart, I knew that this would be the last time I'd see her alive, I was terrified to leave her. Still, I had a 5 year old at home and I needed to care for her as well. The nurses assured me that they would call me immediately if there was any change. I kissed her forehead and reluctantly left for home.
A few hours later, I received a call informing me that my mother was crashing and that they had been "working on her" for 45 minutes. Working on her? Why wasn't I called!? There was no further intervention that would restore her life's quality, but instead, would merely prolong her suffering! We had signed a "do not resuscitate" order during one of the last of many hospitalizations at the recommendation of her physician! What the fuck were they doing?!
We arrived at the hospital as quickly as we could, but my mother was already gone. I was heartbroken and furious, all at once. I don't think there has been a moment quite as devastating as walking into my mother's room and seeing the woman who gave birth to me, hooked up to a monitor that was measuring her for signs of life. I stared in disbelief at the flatline across the screen and just as I did a little blip appeared on the monitor. Artifact, I was told. Bullshit!, I thought. I truly believe she realized I was there. I looked up as the nurse spoke and there, standing next to my other family members, was this woman who couldn't tolerate my existence. I truly felt that her presence there was not to comfort, but instead had a morbid, spectator-like quality, as if she found some twisted satisfaction in my suffering. I was already disoriented and grief stricken, but now also felt as if one of the most sacred moments in my life was being violated as well.
My mother's life was not the only thing that ended that night. Family bonds were irrevocably broken by the hands of guilt and greed, none of which involved myself or this woman. The day following my mother's death, I was accused of being "rude". Rude!? My mother had just died! Even if I would have allowed myself to be remotely distracted by this woman's presence, I wouldn't have wasted the last precious moments that I had with my mother being "rude" to her or anyone else.
Needless to say, along with my mother, anyone who caused me additional pain on that night, no longer exists to me now.
So there I sat, in utter disbelief, listening to this woman's nauseatingly sweet voice cooing her request for some work related information into my cell phone! I'll be honest, I got as far as "Hi Tracy, long time no hear!" "Listen, the reason I'm calling is..Blah, Blah, Blah, Blah..blah..blah. Then..."Think you can you get back to me?"
"Maybe, Lynn." "Hold your breath till I call".
"Never attribute to malice that which can adequately be explained by stupidity"
In Darkness, Light!
Tracy
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Please don't eat the...
Cat!!!! What did you think I was going to say?! Please people, keep it clean! This is a public blog, for the love of nerve!!!!Ahem! Having said that, I was upstairs reading when I heard Ginger crying her little dog heart out. I couldn't imagine why she was so distressed. When I came down, I found Peachy had decided that Ginger's food bowl would be a good place to take a....oh hell (pun intended) cat nap.
She tried for about a good hour to find a comfortable sleeping position. She finally gave up and followed me back upstairs, where she took over my bed.
Pussy Cats....ya gotta love em! }:)
In Darkness, Light!
Tracy
Friday, March 6, 2009
Breath of Life...
She breathest life into the frozen Earth..
Awakening those who have slumbered..
Warm against her breast...
Photo courtesy of Tracy Frasche 3/6/09
Monday, March 2, 2009
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