thank you for the calls and emails. . . it really means a lot.
i am doing better! what else can i do but just go on?
last night i got a million curtains from savers and am making the homestead all lovely.
i'm working, hanging, enjoying my day.


oh koko

after the doom and gloom of my last entry, i wanted to post this really lovely article i found on cnn about mr. rogers. it's touching and wonderful. it's hard to believe he was even real!

Here are 15 things everyone should know about Fred Rogers:

Every one of Mr. Roger's cardigan sweaters was hand-knitted by Fred Rogers' mother.

1. Even Koko the Gorilla loved him. Most people have heard of Koko, the Stanford-educated gorilla who could speak about 1000 words in American Sign Language, and understand about 2000 in English.
What most people don't know, however, is that Koko was an avid Mister Rogers' Neighborhood fan. As Esquire reported, when Fred Rogers took a trip out to meet Koko for his show, not only did she immediately wrap her arms around him and embrace him, she did what she'd always seen him do onscreen: she proceeded to take his shoes off!

2. He made thieves think twice. According to a TV Guide piece on him, Fred Rogers drove a plain old Impala for years. One day, however, the car was stolen from the street near the TV station. When Rogers filed a police report, the story was picked up by every newspaper, radio and media outlet around town.
Amazingly, within 48 hours the car was left in the exact spot where it was taken from, with an apology on the dashboard. It read, "If we'd known it was yours, we never would have taken it."

3. He watched his figure to the pound. In covering Rogers' daily routine (waking up at 5 a.m.; praying for a few hours for all of his friends and family; studying; writing, making calls and reaching out to every fan who took the time to write him; going for a morning swim; getting on a scale; then really starting his day), writer Tom Junod explained that Mr. Rogers weighed in at exactly 143 pounds every day for the last 30 years of his life.
He didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't eat the flesh of any animals, and was extremely disciplined in his daily routine. And while I'm not sure if any of that was because he'd mostly grown up a chubby, single child, Junod points out that Rogers found beauty in the number 143.
According to the piece, Rogers came "to see that number as a gift... because, as he says, "the number 143 means 'I love you.' It takes one letter to say 'I' and four letters to say 'love' and three letters to say 'you.' One hundred and forty-three."

4. He saved both public television and the VCR. Strange but true. When the government wanted to cut public television funds in 1969, the relatively unknown Mister Rogers went to Washington. Almost straight out of a Frank Capra film, his 5-6 minute testimony on how TV had the potential to give kids hope and create more productive citizens was so simple but passionate that even the most gruff politicians were charmed. While the budget should have been cut, the funding instead jumped from $9 to $22 million.
Rogers also spoke to Congress, and swayed senators into voting to allow VCR's to record television shows from the home. It was a cantankerous debate at the time, but his argument was that recording a program like his allowed working parents to sit down with their children and watch shows as a family.

5. He might have been the most tolerant American ever. Mister Rogers seems to have been almost exactly the same off-screen as he was onscreen. As an ordained Presbyterian minister, and a man of tremendous faith, Mister Rogers preached tolerance first.
Whenever he was asked to castigate non-Christians or gays for their differing beliefs, he would instead face them and say, with sincerity, "God loves you just the way you are." Often this provoked ire from fundamentalists.

6. He was genuinely curious about others. Mister Rogers was known as one of the toughest interviews because he'd often befriend reporters, asking them tons of questions, taking pictures of them, compiling an album for them at the end of their time together, and calling them after to check in on them and hear about their families. He wasn't concerned with himself, and genuinely loved hearing the life stories of others.
And it wasn't just with reporters. Once, on a fancy trip up to a PBS exec's house, he heard the limo driver was going to wait outside for 2 hours, so he insisted the driver come in and join them (which flustered the host).
On the way back, Rogers sat up front, and when he learned that they were passing the driver's home on the way, he asked if they could stop in to meet his family. According to the driver, it was one of the best nights of his life. The house supposedly lit up when Rogers arrived, and he played jazz piano and bantered with them late into the night. Further, like with the reporters, Rogers sent him notes and kept in touch with the driver for the rest of his life.

7. He was color-blind. Literally. He couldn't see the color blue. Of course, he was also figuratively color-blind, as you probably guessed. As were his parents, who took in a black foster child when Rogers was growing up.

8. He could make a subway car full of strangers sing. Once while rushing to a New York meeting, there were no cabs available, so Rogers and one of his colleagues hopped on the subway. Esquire reported that the car was filled with people, and they assumed they wouldn't be noticed.
But when the crowd spotted Rogers, they all simultaneously burst into song, chanting "It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood." The result made Rogers smile wide.

9. He got into TV because he hated TV The first time he turned one on, he saw people angrily throwing pies in each other's faces. He immediately vowed to use the medium for better than that. Over the years he covered topics as varied as why kids shouldn't be scared of a haircut, or the bathroom drain (because you won't fit!), to divorce and war.

10. He was an Ivy League dropout. Rogers moved from Dartmouth to Rollins College to pursue his studies in music.

11. He composed all the songs on the show, and over 200 tunes.

12. He was a perfectionist, and disliked ad libbing. He felt he owed it to children to make sure every word on his show was thought out.

13. Michael Keaton got his start on the show as an assistant. He helped puppeteer and operate the trolley.

14. Several characters on the show are named for his family. Queen Sara is named after Rogers' wife, and the postman Mr. McFeely is named for his maternal grandfather who always talked to him like an adult, and reminded young Fred that he made every day special just by being himself. Sound familiar? It was the same way Mister Rogers closed every show.

15. The sweaters. Every one of the cardigans he wore on the show had been hand-knit by his mother.


all my exes live in . . . new mexico?

last night i took a particularly hard call on my rape crisis center shift. they are all hard calls. but this one lasted more than an hour, and was so parallel to some of my own experiences, that it hurt me deeply. . . it invaded my dreams. she said that she'll never be the same. she's dead and he killed her. i know.
i see his face on a lot of people. every couple of weeks i will freak out and think that he's found me and lives in albuquerque. i'll search the internet trying to find a trace of him. i'll panic and cry and deal, and forget. then he pops up again, and i'm back where i started. i've learned to shelve away my reaction when this happens. it's PTSD, and it's a fuckin bitch, but i can't flip out everytime i think i see a man that looks even remotely similar to him. this morning anna and i were walking to the grower's market, and a yellow vw van drove by slow as hell, and the guy in there was staring at me. i thought it was him, for sure, this time.
but i brushed it off and we cracked hilarious hippie jokes and continued on, and had a really wonderful day. we went to the grower's market, picking up fresh garlic and shallots and potatoes. i got this amazing goat cheese, and a loaf of moist, delicious bread from my client's friend's french bakery. we went to the library and picked out photography books for the art group i will be starting in august. we looked through vogue pattern books and i got a library card-FINALLY.
my heart was racing from my morning iced java and lack of sleep, so i cleaned all day.
i made little cheesecake mini bites. i had a ham and cheese wrap from punk rock pizza for dinner.
vic and i watched "night of the creeps".
and then i remembered. vic suggested i look him up on the metro court web site. nothing. i looked him up on the district court site. fuck. my heart slammed around in my chest, and i couldn't breathe for a few seconds.
he's in las cruces, dudes. . . he's here.
i'm terrified.
vic asked me gently, what i thought would happen if i saw him. he brought up good points, like how long it's been since we were together, and that maybe nothing would come of it.
his charge is a felony for drug trafficking. last month. nothing's changed.
i knew it, i KNEW i had seen him somewhere. i have felt him, like i felt him at my grad school commencement 2 weeks after he had almost killed me.
and it's not even that he is still in love with me, or anything like that. it's not about that. it's about control- it's about his totally fractured state of mind- and it's about the fact that he probably wouldn't be able to handle seeing me, just like i can't handle seeing him. two different reasonings behind that, but it's a shared truth.
he could be a sober, married, religious, and fucking reborn man, and i would still be terrified. that is what someone takes away from you, when they violate you and abuse you in ways you would never tell ANYONE about- your freedom, your ability to walk down the street without fucking flinching at the thought of them. . . i wonder if i will look over my shoulder for the rest of my life.
i hope it wasn't him. i hope i will never see him again, and i'll abandon my treatment over incarceration stance temporarily so that he rots in jail, for a long time. the heart of me knows that he needs medication and serious mental help, but it's not my fucking problem. i just want to be in my house and marry my boyfriend and LIVE. for years i have quietly believed that he would kill me one day. most women who come out of similar situations live with that dread lurking in the back of their minds, putting a damper on the happiest days; it resurfaces so forcefully sometimes. i'm a fucking survivor and it's going to take a lot to bring me down. but it's always possible.
they move on to the next victim, the next girl they will treat like garbage and defile and destroy. they lock up the precious memory of us in their box of filth and remember us when they want to- maybe to relive a particularly memorable moment we shared. WE don't have that luxury.
we always remember. and we're never gonna be the same.


monsoon season

its been raining SO MUCH lately!! and poor gabe is about to have a seizure every day, with all the thunder and lightning striking fear into his little beagle heart.
ive watched a lot of movies lately-

cashback- a really beautiful, romantic movie. highly recommend it!!
hellboy 2- decent.
the happening- horrid. if he meant it to be like the twilight zone, then hooray! but somehow i doubt thats what he was going for.
wanted- LOVED it!! the keyboard scene is my favorite part. angelina jolie's appearance just startled me. she is disappearing before our eyes. :(

work has been GREAT. fucking awesome. i love this job.
susan is coming to visit me, and i'm planning all of our activities!
i'm planning to have a big housewarming/welcome susan party, and i'm excited to get the place all fixed up.
i have had a raging desire for green chile enchiladas, ice cream, and los cuates salsa, everyday.
summer here is a lot of fun, but the rain everyday kinda sucks.
this past weekend vic, anna, and i went to the tinkertown museum. it was SO fun. this artist spent 40 years putting the museum together as a hobby, and its full of antiques and oddities and charm. there is such a spirit of individuality, creativity, and heart there. i felt at home. i'll post pics soon.
life seems to be falling into place. . . thats a dangerous statement. . . i hear clients say that right before their lives fall apart. . . but everything feels good right now.


oh those bbq days of summer

saturday we had a client bbq at roosevelt park. it was really nice minus that part when the grill almost blew up. it was a gorgeous day out, and i wore my new fave orange summer dress.
then that afternoon we headed over to reena's in santa fe for her bbq! it was really fun, and i made queso and peanut butter pie. anna and zak came too, and we enjoyed my sister's newly landscaped yard. and her silly dogs. mike made the best potato salad i have EVER had- russet potatoes, blue cheese, chives, buttermilk, bacon. . . HEAVEN. another guest made ambrosia salad, which consists of some variation of cool whip, a chocolate/toffee bar, and fruit. yumm!! today we saw hellboy, which was visually awesome and SO del toro!! and then i went to the mall. i am extremely happy about my purchases! i spent about $80 and got pants, 2 skirts, 2 tops, a pair of yellow suede flats, and 4 pairs of earrings!! i REALLY needed some more work gear, i'm getting pretty sick of panicking every morning as i pick clothes up off the floor and desperately try to get dog hair off them. i also got my favorite meal of an auntie anne's pretzel and boba tea.
an interesting fact i learned this week: the bite of a brown recluse basically eats away your flesh. brown recluse= evil.
another interesting fact: roaches in jamaica are huge, red, fly, and land on people. jamaica= evil. also evil for the rampant homophobia.

looking forward to my 4th week of work tomorrow! xoxo


yay its weekend time!

so week three has ended.
i REALLY like this job. it's a strange new feeling i have never felt before.
tuesday at the dpa even,t i decided to be stupid and have like 6 different types of incredibly strong mixed drinks. i started stumbling and slurring and this was all in front of my sisters co workers! yikes. i then annoyed vic on the ride home by shouting YOUUUUUU!! soulja boy style, and collapsed in bed crying about how sick i was going to be. i think i passed out in about 2 seconds.
last night i had a crazy sci fi futuristic dream with harry potter, ginny weasley, ali, and myself as the main characters. its one of those dreams that makes me wake up with a smile on my face, wishing it could continue on! and also, thinking that i love my weird ass brain sometimes.
you should love your weird ass brain too.


cupid draw back your bow

hello all,
things are well in sheila-land. work is scary and exciting and new.
i am way behind on birthday greetings and decorating.
i think i am spray painting my wicker chairs a nice teal.
yesterday i had a lovely4th, giving the dogs a bath and cleaning house. zak and anna came over for my mole potato enchiladas and strawberry shortcake.
its been just fantastic sleeping in the past two mornings. today vic's friend is coming to visit, and i am headed over to beeps in nob hill for some birthday cards.
my arms are sore as hell from lifting a giant hutch into a truck (some donations for my work). like seriously, i am not cut out for manual labor because i have still not quite mastered lifting with the knees and not the back.
it hurts.
ali has been posting some fuckin amazing recipes at yum yum cooking club. please read this, immediately. and rejoice in the splendor that is ali.
this week the drug policy alliance is having an event in albuquerque, so i will be going to that. . .
the person i am replacing will be leaving on monday, so after that i will be organizing the office with all the power that OCD gives me.
its been a good week. . . how's yours?