As a 911 dispatcher I work 3 twelve hour shifts. I sit at a desk that has 6 monitors, 3 keyboards and 3 mouses (mice?). As a 911 dispatcher I spend twelve hours a day listening to people complain, fight, hurt, cry, bitch, argue, coax, yell, and collapse. I sit all day yet when I go home I am exhausted. Body, Soul and Brain. Over the last few months I've found that in addition to being exhausted there is pent up frustration. Frustration at the person yelling at me for the ticket he got last night. Frustration at the mother who's child called me because she overdosed. Frustration that I can't reach through the phone and comfort the girl that was assaulted last night. And hurt the man who hurt her.
So I did the only logical thing. I joined a UFC gym.
Admitting this next part might be blasphemy, but I have to get it off my chest. I don't even think I've watched even one match in UFC. Or do they just call it a fight?
So why was joining a UFC gym the only logical choice you ask? Because Yoga doesn't do shit for me. I can't clear my head by controlling my breathing. And I loathe running with an intensity usually reserved for red headed step children. However, what I have found is that doing things that destroy my body wipes my mind completely blank. Rock climbing, swimming,dancing(don't believe me? attend a dance class for 1 hour and tell me how you feel afterwards), kickboxing...Anything intensely physical that turns my body pretty black and blue colors.
Only after disaster can we be resurrected.
So I joined a club exclusively dedicated to making my body, and someone else's, hurt.
Over the last two weeks I've attended a few kickboxing classes. Classes that make the kickboxing I took at 24 hour fitness look like Baby Einstein workout video. The drills alone left me out of breath. The class starts off with jumping rope. For fifteen minutes. After one and a half minutes my feet refused to jump that whole inch off the floor for the rope to pass under. So I spent roughly thirteen minutes trying to jump ON my rope. I succeed in convincing the teacher I had a brain injury. Recently.
Then the class divides into groups. Everyone who's been there a month plus gets to pair up and practice drills. Everyone who's been there less then a month gets to learn the drills. Everyone else is me and a 12 year boy.
Doesn't matter. I still love the classes. I come home tired. I don't have nightmares on the nights I go to class. That alone is worth the gym fee.
WARNING: I don't know how to write this next part without sounding dirty. If you wish to keep your minds pure and continue seeing me as an innocent do not continue reading.
Tonight was the first time I attended the Submission Wrestling class. I had a close friend who did brazilian jiu jitsu and it always looked like a lot of rolling around on the ground. Which I am all about. I mean, I'm all about having fun and the rolling around on the ground looked fun. Is fun. No wait. What I mean is, you know how being tickled by your boyfriend is fun? You roll around and play fight? Brazilian jiu jitsu is just like that. Except normally it's two really scary looking dudes having the tickle fight. And this tickle fight will end with someone's arm broken.
Cool.
My first mistake of the night: I walked in, ask the clerk, "is this the submissive wrestling class?"
After blushing a deep red I scuttled in as the class was warming up. I found a dignified spot in the back of the class where no one could see me and proceeded to act nonchalant. Which is difficult when you are on your back stretching your legs over your head. This position places your bottom straight up in the air. Like I said, nonchalant.
Then the sit ups start. Each boy takes a turn counting to ten aloud for the class as we redeem ourselves for that hamburger we ate at lunch. I was worried that my voice would be kind of high because of the exhaustion so I deliberately lowered my voice when it came to my turn. The result? My second mistake of the night: my voice came out husky and slightly out of breathe, panting 1,2,3... Every male head stopped bobbing and turned. In unison.
Did I mention I was the only girl in the submission wrestling class?
I was the only girl in the submission wrestling class.
Who sounded like a porn star.
Great first impression Sam.
Once the actual training got started it wasn't so bad. I learned quite a few new things. I learned how to roll on one shoulder. I learned how to fall on my butt, making a very loud smacking sound. I learned how to ignore the hair, sweat and skin follicle on the map. Ok I didn't really learn that one yet, I mostly close my eyes really tight and pretend the mat was freshly washed.
I learned that men who fight, who train to fight, have the bodies of demigods. They wear Under Armour tshirts that fit like gloves. You know what? The minute, the minute I'm in the shape they are in, so will I. And they work hard to get those bodies. Not by lifting weights. Just from the workout they get doing these classes. The way they manipulate their bodies, deflecting blows and taking hits.
I learned that as much as I want to be considered "just one of the guys", I am still one of the girls. One of the starting positions is called "the guard". In it, one person is on their back with their legs wrapped around the other persons back. Take a second to picture it. That's right. When two guys do it it looks questionable. When a guy and a girl do... well, I learned that to avoid the awkwardness everyone just pretends not to notice. My third mistake of the night: I asked "I think I'm doing the guard wrong. do I need to spread my legs wider?" without first saying it in my head. I think my blush spread on to the poor boy teaching me cause he turned pretty damn red.
I also learned that I don't just love Fight Club for the social commentary.
But then, I knew that already.
After fighting, everything else in your life gets the volume turned down.
God do I need those phone calls turned down.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Sorry if this is too dramatic. It's been a dramatic day.
I'm a 911 dispatcher. My mom was a 911 dispatcher. My dad was a Mesa cop. My uncle was a Phoenix cop. My cousin is a Gilbert cop. My best friend is a Gilbert cop. The boy is a Phoenix cop.
We serve a function that is necessary. We are mostly hated and mocked for it.
We're certainly underpaid for it.
Each work day we wonder if there will be a high speed chase. A foot pursuit. A bank robbery. Something that will remind us why we love this job and remind the public that we are the good guys. The heroes.
The public tends to forget that fact after they've been handed a speeding ticket.
We mostly hate giving you a speeding ticket too. No cop enjoys doing paperwork.
I say mostly because if you're a total asshole... we might enjoy giving you a ticket.
Last night a Gilbert officer was killed. Shot in the head. While doing a traffic stop.
He was a father of two little girls.
During a traffic stop. In Gilbert.
For the first time in nine years I watched my best friend cry.
The boy didn't cry. Last year he watched his brother in uniform bleed out on a street corner.
I guess you don't cry much after that.
I cried. I cried, realizing I could lose either of these boys that I care for. I cried realizing that I could be dispatching one day and hearing those shots over the radio. I cried, not knowing if I am cut out for this job. I cried, knowing that I can't return to a normal life without the mental scars that have formed in just four months of this job.
The boy's reassurance to me? He said
"It's ok. It wasn't one of us. Not today."
That was his reassurance. "Not today".
Just living life comes with certain risk. There are car accidents, health issues. No one is guaranteed to come home safely.
But the Sworn Officers of your city put on their work clothes every day wondering
is today the day I don't come home?
is today the day I see something that will haunt my nightmares?
You are a cop because you don't know how not to be one.
You do this job because you don't know how not to.
We deal with what you fear and keep you safe even though you hate us.
The next time you see a man wearing the shield, thank him.
We serve a function that is necessary. We are mostly hated and mocked for it.
We're certainly underpaid for it.
Each work day we wonder if there will be a high speed chase. A foot pursuit. A bank robbery. Something that will remind us why we love this job and remind the public that we are the good guys. The heroes.
The public tends to forget that fact after they've been handed a speeding ticket.
We mostly hate giving you a speeding ticket too. No cop enjoys doing paperwork.
I say mostly because if you're a total asshole... we might enjoy giving you a ticket.
Last night a Gilbert officer was killed. Shot in the head. While doing a traffic stop.
He was a father of two little girls.
During a traffic stop. In Gilbert.
For the first time in nine years I watched my best friend cry.
The boy didn't cry. Last year he watched his brother in uniform bleed out on a street corner.
I guess you don't cry much after that.
I cried. I cried, realizing I could lose either of these boys that I care for. I cried realizing that I could be dispatching one day and hearing those shots over the radio. I cried, not knowing if I am cut out for this job. I cried, knowing that I can't return to a normal life without the mental scars that have formed in just four months of this job.
The boy's reassurance to me? He said
"It's ok. It wasn't one of us. Not today."
That was his reassurance. "Not today".
Just living life comes with certain risk. There are car accidents, health issues. No one is guaranteed to come home safely.
But the Sworn Officers of your city put on their work clothes every day wondering
is today the day I don't come home?
is today the day I see something that will haunt my nightmares?
You are a cop because you don't know how not to be one.
You do this job because you don't know how not to.
We deal with what you fear and keep you safe even though you hate us.
The next time you see a man wearing the shield, thank him.
RIP Lt. Eric Shuhandler, Gilbert PD.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
No title. Just blog
Training was extremely rough on me today.
Like "I'm throwing my notebook dramatically on the floor, saying fuck you to anyone who looked at me funny and walk out" bad day.
The only bit of good that came out of work was finding out that I didn't have to come into work until 10am tomorrow. A whole 4 hours later then normal.
So what did I do with the extra time I was granted from the very gods on mount olympus?
Did I go work out?
Did I spend time with my family?
Did I clean house?
Grocery shop?
If you answered yes to any of the above then you are clearly a blogstalker and don't know me at all.
Instead of being productive the boy kidnapped me, held me hostage at a friends house, force fed me homemade chicken pot pie and red wine. He even bullied me into laughing until I cried.
He's a big ole meanie head.
I'm awful lucky to have him.
(wow that was mushy)(yuck)
Like "I'm throwing my notebook dramatically on the floor, saying fuck you to anyone who looked at me funny and walk out" bad day.
The only bit of good that came out of work was finding out that I didn't have to come into work until 10am tomorrow. A whole 4 hours later then normal.
So what did I do with the extra time I was granted from the very gods on mount olympus?
Did I go work out?
Did I spend time with my family?
Did I clean house?
Grocery shop?
If you answered yes to any of the above then you are clearly a blogstalker and don't know me at all.
Instead of being productive the boy kidnapped me, held me hostage at a friends house, force fed me homemade chicken pot pie and red wine. He even bullied me into laughing until I cried.
He's a big ole meanie head.
I'm awful lucky to have him.
(wow that was mushy)(yuck)
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
Breathe life into this feeble heart
Today I feel vulnerable.
Which is an unfamiliar emotion for me.
I'm used to feeling happy. Feeling a little wild. Or feeling restless. That's a common emotion. I'm used to feeling antisocial but not in a bitter way. I often feel mischievous. There's times I feel anxiety or stress. Sometimes I feel sore and sometimes I feel lazy. Occasionally I feel apathetic. Or mad.
But I rarely feel vulnerable.
Vulnerable: from Latin vulnerÄre, to wound
And no, the repeat of D is not an accident.
When this feeling hits me it almost always hits me at night. When it's dark and the world is sleeping and all my bad decisions loom up before me.
95% of the time I love being me. There's been some rocky moments, some rocky months even. But I like the life I've created for myself. And I love that I can truthfully say I created this life. I'm not where I am because my parents made my decisions for me. I've worked hard to get and keep this new job. I've made and kept fabulous friends over the years. I do a lot of fun things (even if it means I don't have a savings account). I'm really blessed.
The only downside to making all my own decisions? There's no safety net. No one to blame if it blows up in my face. Which it does occasionally. Sometimes it creates a mess that is fun to play in. Sometimes it burns.
And when those rare occasions occur and I don't feel strong, or independent? When I feel vulnerable?
Well, that's when I wish for you. To put your arms around me. Just until the dawn comes.
Which is an unfamiliar emotion for me.
I'm used to feeling happy. Feeling a little wild. Or feeling restless. That's a common emotion. I'm used to feeling antisocial but not in a bitter way. I often feel mischievous. There's times I feel anxiety or stress. Sometimes I feel sore and sometimes I feel lazy. Occasionally I feel apathetic. Or mad.
But I rarely feel vulnerable.
Vulnerable: from Latin vulnerÄre, to wound
Susceptible to physical or emotional injury.
Susceptible to attack: "We are vulnerable both by water and land, without either fleet or army" (Alexander Hamilton).
Open to censure or criticism; assailable.
Liable to succumb, as to persuasion or temptation.
Liable to succumb, as to persuasion or temptation.
And no, the repeat of D is not an accident.
When this feeling hits me it almost always hits me at night. When it's dark and the world is sleeping and all my bad decisions loom up before me.
95% of the time I love being me. There's been some rocky moments, some rocky months even. But I like the life I've created for myself. And I love that I can truthfully say I created this life. I'm not where I am because my parents made my decisions for me. I've worked hard to get and keep this new job. I've made and kept fabulous friends over the years. I do a lot of fun things (even if it means I don't have a savings account). I'm really blessed.
The only downside to making all my own decisions? There's no safety net. No one to blame if it blows up in my face. Which it does occasionally. Sometimes it creates a mess that is fun to play in. Sometimes it burns.
And when those rare occasions occur and I don't feel strong, or independent? When I feel vulnerable?
Well, that's when I wish for you. To put your arms around me. Just until the dawn comes.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Dear Santa. Wait, what do you mean Christmas is over?!
It's no secret that I have a wee problem with saving.
My bills are always paid on time but overall I'm an impulse buyer instead of a planner.
Ok actually you could scratch out the word buyer. There's not an ounce of planning in me. Just impulse. Thank Hera I'm cautious.
Oh wait.
So..
2009 was probably the most consecutively fun year I've had. However. It was also a year of waitressing and generally being broke. So now I have this fabulous job that makes me oodles of money. And I have a whole years worth of stuff that I want.
Things I want to buy:
A trip to Europe
A trip to DC to visit Mckenna and Ryan
A trip to Vegas to visit with Mr.Andy
A motorcyle
A new laptop
Tickets to see cirque du soleil
Tickets to see Muse
Tickets to see John Mayer
A jeep
A new wardrobe
A trip to costa rica or Brazil. I'll go with either
More random stuff for my house
A pony
Now, how much from the above list will I actually get/buy?
Well. If I learn how to stick to my budget. And work overtime. And stay home instead of going out. And don't get sick. And Miss Havisham ( my car) doesn't break down. And I don't get distracted and buy something on a whim..
I may be able to cross off two or three from the list.
Or I could always burn my debit card
My bills are always paid on time but overall I'm an impulse buyer instead of a planner.
Ok actually you could scratch out the word buyer. There's not an ounce of planning in me. Just impulse. Thank Hera I'm cautious.
Oh wait.
So..
2009 was probably the most consecutively fun year I've had. However. It was also a year of waitressing and generally being broke. So now I have this fabulous job that makes me oodles of money. And I have a whole years worth of stuff that I want.
Things I want to buy:
A trip to Europe
A trip to DC to visit Mckenna and Ryan
A trip to Vegas to visit with Mr.Andy
A motorcyle
A new laptop
Tickets to see cirque du soleil
Tickets to see Muse
Tickets to see John Mayer
A jeep
A new wardrobe
A trip to costa rica or Brazil. I'll go with either
More random stuff for my house
A pony
Now, how much from the above list will I actually get/buy?
Well. If I learn how to stick to my budget. And work overtime. And stay home instead of going out. And don't get sick. And Miss Havisham ( my car) doesn't break down. And I don't get distracted and buy something on a whim..
I may be able to cross off two or three from the list.
Or I could always burn my debit card
Saturday, January 2, 2010
A Year In Pictures (Cause I'm original)
(disclaimer: these are not in order. mostly because I don't remember the exact order everything happened but also because this stupid site doesn't allow me to upload pictures in the order I want. stupid website. )
2009 in color
I got a shiny new tattoo.
At some point I cut off all my hair
(and went to a goth club!)
Gypsy entered my life for a few months
These two officially became FAMILY
And Thursday officially became FAMILY days
(which include sushi, drinks, phase 10 and more drinks )
(which include sushi, drinks, phase 10 and more drinks )
I did a lot of shots
2009 was also the summer of water
Also our first family vacation
Also our first family vacation
I ate way too many sweets
Took my family to the river
Saw a surprising amount of midnight showings
And a lot of 3-d as well
Then Erica joined our family
I moved in with Ryan again at some point
and we did the pool thing. A lot
I went to my first spring training game
And took a mini road trip to see San Xavier
Had an Alice In Wonderland moment
Found out I'm terrified of ostriches and their beaks
But that I like birds and they like me
I attended A LOT of parties for work
Learned to play beer pong (badly)
Made lots of great friends at work
And even went on roadtrips to the beach with them
I trained for a triathlan that I didn't end up doing
Spent quite a few days like this with these girls
Saw Kings of Leon live with this pretty girl
Had a fabulous mini high school reunion..
..With these amazing people
Spent three days in Mexico
Learned I love roadtrips with this girl
Went to Utah to see my favorite Utah people
and only took two pictures.
Cause I suck
Attended what was probably the most enjoyable wedding ever
Hiked and camped at Fossil Springs
And had a hell of a halloween..
As zombie and zombie hunters
Sadly, my year in pictures end with Halloween.
Mostly because I started a new job that demands all of my time and soul.
So while I did live thru Nov. and Dec. there really isn't any proof.
2009 you treated me pretty well.
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