R.I.P.

"What good is it now?" my friend rhetorically asked referring to a police car stationed round-the-clock outside her slain girlfriend's home.

My girlfriend, C., called me yesterday in a panic. A friend whom she had known for 10 years had just been murdered by her ex-boyfriend. And then he shot himself.

He had been distraught over their cancelled wedding and the fact that his woman, his girl had begun dating someone else. The slain woman, J., had begun filling out piles of police reports that her car had mysteriously been tampered with (sugar in the gas tank, slashed tires) and although she was certain it was this ex, the police couldn't do anything unless she saw him commit the acts.

He compromised her cell/e-mail accounts and sent messages to all her co-workers, family and friends--as if she wrote them--discussing sordid details of her new romance. It culminated in a threatening text message sent 12 days ago in which he told her and her family to watch out since he had nothing to lose.

Five gunshots later, two people are dead.

"She took in strays. He was just one of those strays," said my friend over another needed glass of wine referring to J.'s big heart and seven cats and two dogs--all animals she rescued.

This man, her one-time fiancee, had lived the life of a stray and J. seemingly was one of the few people in this world who showed him kindness, gave him a home and shared a slice of her sunshine.

So he shot her multiple times in repayment. In her own home with her beloved adopted strays hiding throughout the house, strays who will be euthanized in five days if no one takes pity and offers them another loving home.

The blame game has begun. The authorities are covertly stating it was her fault since she didn't pursue a two-year Order of Protection; her family and friends feel differently. In the end, J. lays in wait at the coroner's office. They need to take an X-ray of her corpse to locate the fourth bullet.

The house bears yellow tape marking off the crime scene. A police officer sits inside a squad car 24/7 waiting outside protecting a lifeless empty house. Funeral arrangements are being shuffled together. Alliances are being formed and resentments are festering amid the survivors. Guilt is being passed around like a bread basket at a banquet.

Soon, J. will be laid to rest and the tape will be ripped off. The house will be sold. Neighbors will stop whispering and begin sleeping normally. The services will be over, the mourners gone home.

And we'll all breath a little easier knowing that this ugliness is behind us now. We'll slink back into our Monday morning routines, cursing rush hour, packing lunches, managing grocery lists and scheduling carpools.

Until the next woman is murdered by someone who loves her.

(The one thing I would like to do is find homes or a no-kill shelter to take in J.'s animals whom she so loved before their expiration date at the (Illinois) McHenry County Animal Control. I will begin making calls tomorrow. If any one knows of any organizations who would be willing to take these babies in, please please let me know. Thank you.)

@L'uragana

The Date

What do you think?


This girl had a date. With a new guy. First date. She was nervous and on the fence because for starters, she didn't know if she was ready to get back "out there."


Her nervousness waned as the week went on and she found herself become excited--a good sign, she mused. They were to meet at her restaurant pick at 7 p.m. She had planned to go shopping, get her nails done, take a leisurely shower and take her time to look spectacular for the big night.


They connected earlier in the day. He told her several times to call him if she was running late.


The day and hour came for her shopping trip. Except it took longer than she counted on. She looked down at her unkempt nails. She rushed out of the mall and circled another lot looking for parking at the Asian nail salon. Parking was scant.


She double-parked popped in the no-appointment-needed place and asked if they could take her. "Right away," the elderly Asian man smiled. "I am free."

She popped back in her car and smiled. Good. She wouldn't feel the same with less-than-par nails. Another good omen.

But the Asian man had uttered an untruth. Forty-five minutes later she was running out the door--already late for the date and harried. She had forgotten to take her cell phone with the dude's phone number. She called him after she got home and told him to wait. He agreed. If she popped in the shower, she would make it by 8--an hour after the set time.

She began running the hot water and turned to find the shampoo--only to knock over the glass jar containing body scrubs. Glass clumps and shards surrounded her menacingly, challenging her from the shower floor. "I can still pull this off," she thought as she picked out the glass and ran the remaining pellets with the water down the drain.

The evening's antics were still not over. She emerged from the shower unscathed. She plugged in her hair dryer, which for some reason was on the fritz. She chose to apply her make-up instead. However, she remembered she had taken all her good cosmetics to work the day before placed inside her bag. Where was the bag? Why, in the car, of course.

But it wasn't in the car, it was in the trunk. The trunk, which for some odd reason, would not open. No matter how much she cursed. Not to be thwarted, she figured she would attack from the rear. She plied open the back seat prying open the mouth of the trunk only to discover a large box she had not taken out--completely stuck and blocking her from her beloved cosmetics.

After several failed attempts, she glanced at the clock: 8:20, an hour and twenty minutes after the date should have begun. She looked in the mirror at her half-dried frizz, her barren face and dialed the man. She would not tempt fate any longer; she would cancel the date. Resigned, she feigned an excuse.

Bad ju-ju, a sign from God or simply a self-fulfillng prophecy--you be the judge.

Follow-up: As of this morning, the trunk flung open without incident.

@L'uragana

Thursday updates

• got a sinus headache
• my contacts are cloudy
• i'm hungry
• i welcome the rain today
• looking forward to going out friday night
• not looking forward to 800 loads of laundry waiting like a predator in my basement
• my "temporary" tooth is bothering me
• digging the hot pink lipstick i'm wearing
• feeling very unfocused
• feeling very tired
• feeling like crawling in bed and rewatching Vicky Christina Barcelona

th-th-that'sssssssssssssssss all folks.


@L'uragana

I give up. I surrender. I am done.

I'm so tired of being a parent, I really am.


@L'uragana

So @ the library

Being out of the newspaper/editorial business, I just realized I haven't been inspired, i.e., haven't been opening my eyes around me for a while. Realization is great and so is the feeling of "missing" something since that feeling often propels one (me) to fill that longing.

I dropped my son off @ the library about 1/2 hour ago and there are all these framed movie posters in the lobby. I walked by. I asked the clerk what they were and she really didn't know. She suggested I ask the guy "sitting out there."

I had walked right past him.

I head back out to the car and see him this time in the lobby. A kind of shy, kind of I-am-not-comfortable-in-my-own skin 20-something guy stands there in a dark get-up. So I begin asking him what's up with these 12 or so posters....and he begins talking...but you can tell he's not comfortable with explaining why he's there.

But I have always loved drawing the passion out from people and find that it is the coolest thing in the world to watch them go once you walk with them there. I spoke with him a few minutes--not enough time to really figure this all out, what he's doing and why--but I know he has an impressive collection and all the posters are of upcoming movies. He tells me he brings them for display to various places. He's not selling them, either.

So I walk to my car for a quick smoke (yes, I have fallen off the wagon again...but only for a week...I will stop.) and think I will call my buddy John and suggest he interview this dude for his blog. But wait, this isn't really John's subject per say. So I think, hmmm, maybe I could launch a blog whose only content are interviews with these random interesting, cool people that are strewn all around me like loose diamonds on a jeweler's mat.

For example, this older guy I literally stopped my car for who was in the thick of the forest preserve with a huge bag of "feed" over his shoulder shaking it out.....and he was surrounded by deer! He told me about a secret stash in the county budget that the former commissioner used to take care of the preserve's deer. With the old commissioner dead, the funds have dried and the deer need to eat. This man on his own does what he can.

Or the "worshippers" of a water pump at another forest preserve who line up in horrid heat, bitter cold and torrential rains to fill up their jugs and gallons with this "miracle" spring water.

This idea gives me that energetic juice that once made me a great interviewer and filled me with a bounty of feelings that made me privileged to be on this planet.

Even though logistically you guys couldn't go to the local library and see this guy--would you find it interesting? Would you want to read about people like this?Let me know.

I admire the opinions of the people who read this blog.

Thanks.

@L'uragana

The fine line

Can someone tell me what's the difference between acceptance . . . and resignation?

@L'uragana

Easy Math

I follow quite a few blogs but follow them "silently." I have my reasons. Sometimes I like to highlight a blogger that I think other people may not know about. Today I encourage you to go visit Jay at Lost in that Vast Terrible in Between to read his post "Easy Math."

I love his assessments on this blog of not only our current economic mess but of government in general.

Reflections on last night

I don't understand the dating scene post-40. I think after living over four decades on this planet that I've formulated some understanding of the male species and then as quick as a drop of mercury down a thermometer, realize I don't have a f'ing clue.

Just when I think I've met a normal, intelligent, funny man (a rarity) he ruins it all by wanting creepy phone sex after only one date. I mean any run-of-the-mill perv would know not to introduce really creepy phone sex until after the third date.

His segue freaked me out (any segue is not being used as a euphemism for his junk, btw). We weren't talking about anything sexual, in fact we were IM'ing about scary movies and then my phone starts ringing. He immediately played it like a joke--the whole, he's in the house get out NOW--phone call. But within seconds he was breathing heavy into the phone and I soon realized he wasn't "acting" like any movie monster anymore. He was revealing his inner freak.

"Do you want me to come over there and *&^% you? I'll come over anytime and *&^% you." And like, where's the challenge in that? Wow. A dude who's willing to run over for free sex. What an oddity.

WTF??!??!? This is why I stay away from chat rooms and online dating. To avoid the f'ing perverts and what do I wind up with??? I'd have more respect for the dude if he tried something sexual on me when we were together--at least that'd feel "normal."

I feel. . . hopeless. I really, really do. You know, I have great friends and an active life and my passions, but dammit, I DO want a relationship. If not now, at some point in my life. Maybe it's just not meant to be. For me. Believe me, that's a really shitty way to start off the week. But then again, I could be him. That's more depressing.

(and for those of you who are curious--I asked him wtf he was doing and then hung up)

@L'uragana

editorial philosophy

the great thing about deadlines. . . is that they eventually come to an end.

@L'uragana

letting go

by Kahlil Gibran of his sister Marianna



On Children by Kahlil Gibran

Your children are not your children.

They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.

They come through you but not from you,

And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,

For they have their own thoughts.

You may house their bodies but not their souls,

For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,

which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them,

but seek not to make them like you.

For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

You are the bows from which your children

as living arrows are sent forth.

The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,

and He bends you with His might

that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let our bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;

For even as He loves the arrow that flies,

so He loves also the bow that is stable.

I gave birth to my son over nine years ago. Tonight, I gave him to the world. It needed to be done. I am filled with a sense of loss and sorrow so great, yet I also feel like the selfless mother that I always wanted to be, knew I should be. He wasn't mine, never was, never will be. The exquisite pain of loving someone so purely, so completely that you let them go. And you hide your tears.

Until they are completely out the door.

@L'uragana

I love this city

Chicago @6:45 a.m.

Even though Forbes listed it as the third most miserable city in America. :)

@L'uragana

ahhhhhhhhhh yes

Is there anything better to do on a rainy Monday night than crackling open a bottle of Reisling, taking a drag on a smoke and listening to Adele sing "Chasing Pavements" over and over and over?

I think not.

@L'uragana

My happy moment

So, so, so happy that the Robert Plant/Alison Krauss CD, "Raising Sand" won THE Grammy,
Album of the Year!!!!! The duo also took home the most Grammys, as well as Song of the Year (Please Read the Letter that I Wrote). So many people I knew hadn't heard of Raising Sand....it appeared on the music scene as ethereally and mystically as the voices of the artists. They harmonize so well that sometimes it sounds like the same voice. It is a brilliant work of art.

Well-done!!!!!




@L'uragana

Stranger in a strange land

I feel so lonely. Not alone, just lonely. A lonliness as vast and as harsh as The Sahara. Will I ever belong? Anywhere?

@L'uragana

Running on empty

Over the past year, I've cleaned up a lot of old clutter in my life--both physical and mental. There were so many important not-to-be-dismissed tasks that I let fall to the wayside. This pile grew to behemoth proportions looming dark and menacing.

Once things started getting accomplished and I didn't have the additional clutter of feeling bad about not handling what I should, I noticed that I felt. . . empty.

Being that I'm a single mom and travel an hour each day to work, I feel like a shark. Constantly in motion. But lately, I've slowed down. And when I pay attention, when I listen closely, I feel. . . empty.

And I think for the first time in my life I must "be" with this emptiness so I can be rid of it. Running from it has never ever profited me. I'm not looking forward to this process because I think it will be one of the hardest, most draining things I've ever done. And I'm not sure if I will come out of it.

But there's this sliver of hope that somehow I might be able to close it a bit. And that's what drives me forward.


@L'uragana

Double standard

Flipping through a free copy of W, I stumbled upon a fashion ad starring Kate Moss. Although the stellar international cover girl had less-than-glamorous photos of her splayed across The Daily Mirror in 2005 snorting coke, she seemed to not only recover from her brief and slight decline from Mount Modeldom, but doubled her salary in the two years following.

She was not criminally charged because Great Britain does not issue arrests based on photos. Although she has been accused of being anorexic and promoting "heroin chic," Moss did not slither away in shame. She did lose some of her modeling contracts but industry support for the petite runway model out shined any of the negatives.

In November of 2006, supermodel Kate Moss was named model of the year at the British Fashion Awards. In 2007, Moss was the face of a record 14 brands including Versace, Louis Vuitton, and Virgin Mobile. In 2008, a $2.8m 100% gold statue of her had been created as part of a British Museum exhibition. The statue is said to be the largest gold statue to be created since the era of Ancient Egypt. Moss was 31 at the time of the "incident."

So Katie did well for herself in spite of using coke. Michael Phelps, 23, on the other hand was photographed taking in marijuana through a bong. He's being charged, publicly berated and is losing his endorsements, too.

But I feel there's a double standard here. Because Moss is a model and beautiful, her cocaine use was minimized because her job requires her to be thin and she also travels in glamorous circles. So it's OK.

Poor 23-year-old Michael Phelps is an American icon so by God we have to make him pay for this. And he's also not the most attractive youth either and I believe that also played a factor. Our society tends to look the other way when the "Beautiful Ones" make mistakes.

I hope he recovers as well as Ms. Moss.

@L'uragana

He proved me right!

Man, I wish I had Michael Phelps around when I was a teenager to justify my pot-smoking! I knew there were benefits, I just didn't know how many! LOL. Seriously, of all the scandals Americans have been through and most of all, after all that's going on in this economy, the world...this is such a bad thing? C'mon. I just wish he didn't apologize. I say so what!



@L'uragana

what is it

about Wintry Sunday nights that have me both loathing them and enjoying them in a very lazy way?

@L'uragana