Pandora's Box

While rocking a fever of 102 F, I lounged in my LoveSac tonight trying to nurse myself back to health. Pitiful, I know... especially for a Saturday. I discovered a new television show on ABC called Castle. Even before the opening credits I was sucked in. It's one of those crime-CSI-detective shows and it's pretty entertaining.

The episode was about murder, lying, deceit, and fear--- you know, all of the feel-good things that warm your heart. The storyline, however, was fairly suspenseful. As the TV characters played whodunnit and searched out the killer, I found myself becoming increasingly more jumpy. The pipes in the boiler room of my house lurched, and so would I. I would hear a car door slam outside and feel the compulsive urge to peak out over the window sill so I could see who was coming. Every shadow was someone in my house. Every noise was a call to arms. What was happening to me???

I finished the episode and peeled myself from my nest to punch the off button on the television. Needing to calm down from my hours worth of P.I. work, I decided to take a bath. Somewhere in my quarter century's worth of experience I've heard that it helps fevers. I was hoping it would also help with jitters. As I let the bath water run I creeped around my apartment, checking door locks and turning on lights. Indeed, a bath would calm me down and I sank hopefully into the water.

After a few minutes of attempted R&R in the tub I added more hot water to the bath. After being satisfied with the adjusted temperature I reached my toes up to the water knob to turn it off and was immediately inundated with one idea: I am Michelle Pfeifer and this is What Lies Beneath! Bathtubs, ghosts, murderous relationships. This was not a good idea!

I decided to avert my eyes from the mediated memories coming from the tub faucet and turned my gaze upward in an attempt to relax. As I looked up at the showerhead I pictured one thing in my mind's eye: spiders! Spiders crawling out of the showerhead... this was just like Arachnophobia!

My skin was crawling and I had to get out. I pulled the drain and grabbed for my towel. As I did I heard the advertisement on the radio..."A husband thought he had committed the perfect murder... " The ominous segment advertised Pioneer Memorial Theatre's newest show: Dial M for Murder. Great. So much for FM100 playing "soft hits with less talk".

For those of you wondering why I refuse to watch scary movies anymore, let this be my solemn writ and testament. I hate you Hollywood.

Sweet dreams everybody...

Un-HAPPIES

Coincidence?

Everytime I have posted my "HAPPIES" (See Jan and March), immediately after something happens... something big... and something bad.

Coincidence? I think not.

HAPPIES

mom's newfound ability to text message * Heath * New job * Options * Colorado trip * Boss * Spring Break * dancing the night away * Slurpees * laughing with family * laughing with friends * 5 page essay done * no class for a week * sleeping in * blue sky * pets * CranMal * piano bars * night off *

Homeless Youth Resource Center (HYRC)

So WHERE do you work exactly? And you're not scared? Are they horrible/mean/scary/intimidating? Why do you work there?

These are the questions, usually in this order, that I get when I tell people where I work. It's been 3 months working with the street culture of Salt Lake City, and I can truly say it has changed me. To protect the kids I work with I don't talk about work outside of the center walls. Their stories are powerful, important, sad- but they are not mine to tell.

Recently Mike Terry from the DesNews here in SLC did a report on the HYRC. He spent several days with our kids, taking photos, conducting interviews, even following them around on the streets. Mike was great with them, and he really got them to open up and share about their lives. This video was created about some of our kids and shares their experiences. The center it shows them in is my place of business, and all of the kids you see our "my kids". There are also photos of them in their camps, sleeping in UHaul trucks, or walking around the streets of SLC at night. Because they signed releases to be on camera and in print, I can share this with you.

The video is beautiful and surprisingly honest. Here's an answer to all those questions. And no, I'm not scared. I love these people... Enjoy. And please watch.

Homeless Youth Resource Center Video (click here)

Sunday Revelations

My world has been shaken. Rocked. Everything I know has been turned upside down, and it all started with a little conversation between Sib and her beau.

I only caught the last part of their conversation, taking place between the living room where Austin lounged and the back hallway where Sib was in her bedroom... " yeah, but I've slept away 6 years of my life..."

"What?" I joined in. "How have you slept away 6 years of your life?" After all, during her 20 years on the planet, I've known her for well... all of them. And as far as I'm concerned? She's been conscious for the vast majority. This merited a follow up, and what followed rocked my socks.

"Austin and I decided to calculate how long we've actually slept in our lives", Sib followed up with me. "We figured that we sleep an average of 8 hours a night, every day, for the past 20 years. My number is 6 years."

I was immediately intrigued and busted out my calculator to see if this was true. Try it yourself.

8 hours of sleep/ night (X) 7 days a week (X) 52 weeks (X) (Your age in years)= Hours slept in your life

Divide this number by 24, giving you the amount of days you've slept. Then divide this by 365= how many years you've slept.

People. My number is 8.31. 8.31 YEARS have passed me by in slumber.

WOW.