Archive for February, 2006
However, I don’t think I got over 70%. Oh well. I managed to get a 4.5/5 for the library research thing that we handed in last week though. So I’m happy.
Ok, Enviroboi (as you shall forever be to me), about the Constable. He’s married to a woman (sorry), cute, only 35, and definitely not available. He has two dogs, a female rotweiler and a male blonde german shepherd. He’s incredibly sweet too. I’m sure you would’ve liked him.
I’m still dead tired, but not quite as foggy as I was when I left for class. I stopped at the Mac’s store and bought two 1 litre diet Cokes. They were on sale and it was convenient to buy them. So now I have cold caffiene for Thursday. I don’t have class tomorrow because the prof will be in Victoria or Vancouver (I’m not sure which).
When Bran woke me up to feed me something before I went to school, he interupted an interesting dream. I didn’t want to leave it despite the fact that I was a corpse. Yes, I was dead. It was another one of those odd dreams. I wanted to die through most of the dream, but Nick Stokes, Gil Grissom and Sara Sydle kept me from doing myself in. Then I was murdered. I laid about listening and “observing” and they went through the whole crime scene thing, gathering up bits of blood here and there, and sundry other things. They were just going to turn me over when Bran woke me. I didn’t want to wake up. It was the most entertained by CSI I’d been for some time. Maybe I’ll get a sequel tonight. Just think. I went from being a corpse, to acting like a zombie to go to write a midterm about helping people die and those who are bereaved. Do you sense a theme? Naw.
I’m going to start reading other people’s blogs now. I have to spend tomorrow catching up on my abnormal psych text and begin making notes. Afterall, I did say that I was going to try to keep up. I can’t say I’m trying if I don’t even crack the book open.
I awoke at 6 am this morning because of a nightmare. I don’t remember anything about it really, just that I was scared awake. The feeling of being scared wasn’t there once I was awake so I’m suspecting it was just a startle rather than a real nightmare.
I laid down again to sleep at 9:30. I did some studying in between 6 and 9:30. However, when Bran woke me up about an hour ago I’d been having mind twisting weird dreams. Really. The last one had me on a bus after watching some National Film Board movie about something, or someone, I think some obscure Canadian film maker. Then I got off the bus I was on (don’t ask me). I was in a really bad part of town. I was in front of the ruins of a large business that had gone under long before. It was like an abandoned strip mall, but more run down. Then there was a woman and a girl walking somewhere and I knew the girl (no idea now who it was). She was wanting an apology from the woman for another girl. I told her that 2nd hand apologies don’t mean anything. The apology would have to be said face-to-face. Then I hugged her…yeah, me…hugging…totally weird. Anyway, I said that they needed to go because this was a bad area of town. The girl told me that she knew because she lived there (as a runaway) when her brother died. I told here that it was ok and to leave because there were a lot better places to be and then I repeated it stressling the “a lot” part. Then I was wandering through the building. I came across two kids. Well, not so much came across as they were hunting me. One had, what looked like, cold cream in his hair and dark spikes of hair were poking up through it. I got on my cell phone and dialed 911. I told them where I was and that I was feeling intimidated. As I was backing away from the first kid, another joined in. this one had pointy ears, like an elf or Spock. That one really frightened me. I told the operator that they wouldn’t believe me but, and then told her (I think it was a her) about the appearance of the second kid. Then I came across the kid that I’d seen outside, but it wasn’t that kid, but they were the same. Anyway, my knowing this one seemed to disorient the other two because they stopped pursing me as hard. I had been backing away from them, like you’d back away from a big, growling dog. I hung onto the arm of the kid, he wanted to get away from me. It was like he was scared of me and I didn’t know why. I wanted to know why. Then he said that his name was Moyers too. Then he told me that he was my son. The other children were gone, replaced by…dogs? pigs? something anyway. I was no longer scared of them. Then I said to the kid, “I’m your daddy?” Yeah, apparently I was male. I didn’t know that though. I wasn’t only male, I was Bill Moyers.
Anyone have any clue as to what that means? I sure as hell don’t. It was then that Bran was trying to make me wake up.
He made me a very yummy breakfast of browned butter fried happy eggs and his home made bread toasted and nuked coffee. Browned butter fried happy eggs taste absofuckinglutelyfantastic. I’ve tried studying but I’m still very disoriented and sleepy. I’m going back to bed.
You can find at least some of your archives and copy/paste them into a word processing document:
using Yahoo search type:
A lot won’t be available, but I got abou 56 entries. It’s better than none at all. Thanks to Christine I got at least some of them.
But it could have been more exciting too. I got a tour of the police station. Now I know where the ERT keeps their equipment (even if I can’t get into it), where the bomb disposal people keep their stuff, where the bicycle cops hide their stuff, where the station’s Quartermaster is, and where the evidence is kept. I got to see the cells (and very spare they are, a loo and a mat that looks like a rubber yoga mat but is stronger). The old cells, the ones that still have bars on them, are covered over with thick plexiglass type stuff. That is to prevent people from doing harm to themselves. There is also a restraint chair (I didn’t get to see it) for anyone who is really determined to harm themselves. I saw the communications area. There are 2 provincial 911 operators there, two radio operators and a Sergeant. Then it was down to records where all the paper work goes. Protective orders, warrants and other stuff are all stored there. I met the Sergeant who does all the report dessemination and editing. He makes sure that all the i’s are dotted and t’s are crossed and that all pertinant information is in the report. If it isn’t he ships it back to the officer.
I found out that the force is a young one. The Constable that I was with is considered a “veteran” having 10 years. There are two, maybe three others who have more than that. The rest of the force are all under 5 years on duty.
Then it was out to the car. We spent over half an hour talking about the car alone. There we also talked about weapons, weapons qualifying, ammunition, the computer (that takes forever to boot up), the radio and various other controls. Then it was time to roll. He called in his availability and off we went. He said it was going to be a quiet night and he was right. Apparently the assistance cheques went out last week. Besides, the weather sucked. Even bad guys don’t like inclement weather. Added to that was the district that he was assigned to is of the more affluent area of town, which tends to have a lower crime rate.
We talked about what he looks for when he’s driving about (because, of course, he’s working and all), what is makes his antenna go “beep.” We also talked about footwear and how important it was, then we compared notes on the cost of footwear. He won, but only a by a little bit. His cost $200 mine were $130.
We went on two calls. That’s not many all things considered. One was a traffic issue where the skinny gent (and I mean skinny) who’d had some guy keep bumping into the back of his car with a truck while they were waiting for the light to turn green. The second was one of those “social work” calls where a kid is fighting with mom and gets a bit out of control. It turns out that the kid’s dad was killed in a car wreck not long ago. So when he does those little things that irritate mom, mom gets pissed off and breaks something of his, he begins to wreck the house…all because they’re not talking about the big thing, her ex and his dad is now dead and no one is dealing with the grief. Hopefully they’ll get the help they need. They were given the phone numbers of a couple of agencies that might help them.
I got home at about 10:10 tonight. The Constable’s shift ended at 11 and he had some paperwork he needed to do before the shift was done. He’s headed off to Portugal tomorrow and not having the paperwork would be seriously frowned upon by his Sergeant.
All in all it was a very nice evening. I got a lot of questions answered and learned a lot about the risks invovled in law enforcement. I don’t know that I’m cut out for the work. Police work has always facinated me and, until now, I thought it was out of my reach. I guess time will tell. Maybe I’ll do another ride-along when I’m closer to graduation.
I finished typing definitions, lists, notes and text notations. It’s printing up right now. There are 17 pages of 11 size arial font. That’s what I’ll be reading tonight while I await my time in the police car. I’m quite looking forward to the ride along. Then, after I get home, I’ll read aloud the lists and try to memorize them. I’ll make sure I have more than a passing knowledge of the definitions and reread the relevant parts of the text that I didn’t type notes for.
I’ll do a review tomorrow morning and afternoon (unless I’m sleeping) and then I’ll be off and running to my exam.
I’m not sure whether I should feel relief at this, or just pain because my body doesn’t like being constrained for as long as it has for the past several hours.
Just think, it wasn’t long ago that I thought that I wasn’t capable of pulling an all nighter. I can. Well, I can so long as I have a long afternoon nap. I’m going to go get my notes and crawl into bed for some sleep.
Phew! I read the final 7 chapters and now I’m beginning to do the notes. First are the definitions that he’s planning on asking questions about. Then I’ll be writing out the lists, Like Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’s list for the proposed stages that dying people go through when they find out they have a terminal illness. Through all this I’ll be going through the notes that I wrote in classs to make sure that I don’t forget his anally retentive lectures.
Oh, check out the blog menu. I have Nexusgrrl and Stephanie Sleek added. I love that I’m finding my old reads. I mean, I’m not happy that Diary-x is defunct now, but at least I’m finding familiar “faces.” That’s always nice.
No, I’m not easily distracted…
It’s time for some Unconscious Mutterings
- Baby step:: tiny
- Wasted:: stoned
- Reggie:: Marley
- Pitiful:: sad
- Acting out:: naughty
- Tomato:: yummy
- Bad night:: tired
- Trip:: zoo
- Finance charges:: ouch
- Sport:: curling?
If you haven’t already, click on your old Diary-X address and a message will come up about a database for those who have had journals and where they can be now. I’m there and so are lots of others. If you want people from Diary-X to be able to find where you’ve taken refuge, then add your information. Hopefully there’ll be lots of people who find each other again. Stay In Touch
It’s chilly outside.
There’s one thing I intensely dislike about winter. I really hate it when my thighs freeze. I’m fat. Yep, right down to brass tacks, in fact, according to some, I’m obese. That means that I have a big butt and fat thighs. In fact, I’ve always had fat thighs, even when I was fit.
Now, don’t let anyone ever tell you that fat is a good insulator. It might work that way with thick blubber for whales and seals, but it doesn’t work that way for humans. You see, if you have fat (and any fat person out there reading can testify to this) that fat freezes. It not only freezes, but it stays cold because it doesn’t have the same amount of blood flow as muscle. So instead of keeping me warm, my fat works as an air conditioner would.
So now I sit, happily warm everywhere else…except my thighs. I can feel the cold radiating off of them, chilling down the chair I’m sitting on.
When I lived in Calgary in the early 1980s I had a similar problem. When they didn’t have a chinook happening the city froze hard. In fact, part of the reason the winter affected me so drastically there was because of the chinooks. (a : a warm moist southwest wind of the coast from Oregon northward b : a warm dry wind that descends the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains – Merriam-Webster). I wasn’t able to get used to the weather. Anyway, when it was cold, it was fucking freezing!
I’d get home from work at about 5:30 or so in the evening, and after having walked about 2 blocks home from the bus stop, my thighs would be frozen solid…at least that’s how it felt. During the coldest time when the temperatures were -40 and lower I wouldn’t be able to warm up well. I’d stay chilled through the evening. Then I came up with,what was possibily the most brilliant idea I had in my whole life.
When I got home in the evening I’d run a hot bath. That’s not the brilliant part. I’d plug the kettle in and make myself hot chocolate…wait it’s coming. Then I’d add an ounce of rum to the cocoa. We’re taking glorious. It was the only time when I actually bathed rather than showered (except in places where there was no shower). I’d tip-toe into the hot water, and slowly sink into its delicious warmth. I”d sip on the chocolate until it was all done. By that time I was toasty warm and ready to cook supper.
Yeah, supper was late on those nights. Once or twice I got a little too “happy” with the rum and singed a food item or two. But hey, I was warm.
I’m still cold. Even after typing all of that, my thighs are still cold. Oh well. It’s time to study. I don’t want to, but I have to.
Bran and I are supposed to be out delivering flyers as I type. However, he took a sedative last night and it’s still in his system. We’ll be going out shortly.
I’m trying to decide if I want to create a new template from scratch. I’ve got the colours of this one pretty much the way I want them and I have the add-ons like the moon phase thing and other toys that I enjoy seeing. I thought, last night, that I’d lost the moon phase monitor because I couldn’t find it in the old template. Unlike most other coding, it turned out to be only one very long line of code, so I just missed it. Yay!
I’m happy to have my counter up again as well. There’s something very satisfying to my ego knowing that there are people out there reading me. So few comment that having the counter assuages my feelings of isolated writing. Yes, it appears that I’m that insecure.
So, after we’re all done with delivering the flyers, I’ll be studying for the exam. I know, it’s about fucking time. Hey, better late than never. Right?