I want a gun

This photo was taken by a crime scene investigator who was sent out to fingerprint my car after it was broken into.
My car radio was stolen. My steering column was jimmied with. A piece of my ignition switch was broken off as the thief or thieves attempted to pop out the switch and drive away my car.
The break in was discovered on Tuesday morning as I prepared to go to work. I waited two hours for a police officer to show only to be told that I would have to wait another two hours for a CSI person.
Instead, I went to work, called 911 after I returned home and had a crime scene investigator at my home about 9:30 or 10 p.m.
But it is not the police I'm angry with. I'm angry at the criminals who violated my property, my trust, my sense of safety.
This was the third time in two years that something has happened at my home. In April 2004, about a month after I moved in, someone tried to break into my home. In fact, it was a guy I had hired to cut my grass three days earlier. Thank God a neighbor saw him in the act and called the police. He was arrested in the act, charged and given probation.
In May of 2005, I arrived home from work to find that my car had been stolen from my yard. It was a wrecked car that I was trying to sell for parts, so of course there was no insurance on it. And since I had been trying to sell it, the title was in the car. (I know, I should not have done that... but no one should have stolen it either.)
And here it is August 2006 and someone breaks into my car.
I don't drink. I don't do drugs. I try to live a wholesome life. I don't surround myself with questionable people. I'm a good person, I think. So why me? Why have I been targeted?
I have several and I do mean several neighbors who have lived in that neighborhood for 10, 15, 20, and even 30 years who have NEVER had any problems. And I do mean never.
The neighborhood consists mostly of older people, and many of the women are home most of the day. Their husbands work in factories or have two jobs. They keep their yards nice, and most of us decorate our butts off at Christmas, with some of the houses trying to outdo the next one.
It's a racially mixed neighborhood of whites, blacks and Latinos.
The only dogs on my street are the little kind, the cute things you keep in your home. Most of the cars are late models. I probably have the oldest and the ugliest car in the neighborhood. No, I know I do.
So all in all, it's not a bad area.
One of my neighbors speculated that I have been targeted because I am away from my home so long each day. I am away approximately 10 to 11 hours each day.
Plus, some folks think I have buckets of money after hearing that I'm a journalist.
Hello???? Did they not notice the car I was driving?
I must say that my street has not been that bad. But that is my street, or the top of my street. The bottom half, well......
The police officer who took my report Tuesday morning said they have been having problems with a bunch of teen-agers at the other end of my street - a bunch of kids who have formed some kind of gang.
What the heck????
And they have been causing trouble this summer at the end of my street, around the park and a couple of streets over.
Now I don't think the kids stole my car in 2005 and I know they didn't break into my house in 2004, but I do believe they broke into my car.
On Tuesday night, three of my neighbors woke up to find spray paint on their cars. No one slept Wednesday night. We all had lights on and were checking each other's property.
I just don't feel safe in my own home anymore and I don't feel safe leaving it for work.
How dare someone else do that.
I never and I do mean never thought I would be one of those individuals who would even consider getting a gun, but here I am not only thinking about doing it, I am doing it.
Once the check has cleared, I will be a gun owner.

I'm having one of those days.

I'm mad.
Period.
I look mad.
I feel mad.
I'm in a bad mood.
I just don't want to be here right now.

I'm ready for my close-up, Mommy.

This is not one of Dion's better photos, yet this picture just makes me smile.

Tag... I'm it.

Evidentally, there is this new on-line version of the child's game called "Tag" floating in the blogosphere. My friend, Emilie just tagged, me, so it's my turn to tag somone.....
But before I do, here are my responses.

Four jobs I have had in my life:
1. Production line worker at a soap factory.
2. A sales associate in Sears.
3. Daycare worker, a WIC food distributor; a food server in a soup kitchen, a phone solicitor, a secretary, an ink pen sales woman.
4. Journalist.

Four movies I watch over and over:
1. Hanging Up
2. Look whose Talking Now
3. Titanic
4. Steel Magnolia (The main reason I watch them over and over is because I purchased the tapes used from Blockbuster years ago and they are at my house.)

Four places I have lived:
1. Holly Springs, Miss.
2. Jackson, Miss.
3. Shreveport, La.
4. Greensboro, N.C. (This is not the entire list of places I've lived, but it let's me see I need to move more.)

Four TV shows I love to watch:
1. The Office
2. Everybody Hates Chris
3. My Name is Earl
4. Girlfriend

Four places I have been on vacation:
1. California
2. Washington, D.C.
3. San Antonio, Texas
4. Omaha, Neb. (This is not the entire list of places I've vacationed, but it's long enough to let me know I need to travel to more places and more exotic places.)

Four websites I visit daily:
1. News & Record
2. Mapquest
3. Wikipedia
4. Google

Four of my favorite foods:
1. Penne Roustic
2. Key Lime pie
3. Fresh, homegrown tomatoes
4. A medium-well steak.

Four places I would rather be right now:
1. In a new, paid-for, handicapped-accessible van
2. In Illinois living in a good part of town in a house I can afford with my mom and son.
3. Rich
4. Getting a pedicure. (I am badly in need of one.)

Four favorite bands/singers:
1. Anthony Hamilton
2. Yolanda Adams
3. any choir
4. Luther Vandross

Folks I'm tagging, just because...I think these are the folks who look at this blog and who might respond.
1. Lynn B.
2. Janis H.
3. Allison P.
4. JoAnn S.
5. Cherry H.
6. Gwyne A.
7. Sharon M.

Why do I still know the words to that song after all of these years?!!??!

I was driving home yesterday when a song from the 1990s came on, "I'm not your Superwoman"
They played the version with Patti LaBelle, Dionne Warrick and Gladys Knight.

I can't tell you the last time I heard that song, yet for some reason, I knew every word... and I mean every word of that song.

Yes, someone did a remake of it about five or six years ago, but come on, why were the words of that song stored away some where in my brain just waiting for me to call them to action?

I was really amazed as I sang it that I didn't have to think. As a matter of fact while I was singing it I was thinking about how amazing it was that I knew the words. I was smiling as they were flowing, and I was thinking, this is amazing.

I tell you, the brain is a powerful tool. Just think about all of the knowledge, tidbits and just junk we have collected over the years and are stored some where in the recesses of our brains?

No wonder individuals who are damaged as children have a hard time letting it go. The remembrance of the pain is stuck somewhere in our brains whether we acknowledge it on a daily basis or not.

Wow.

My son has a powerful brain.

Dion constantly amazes me, which I've shared numerous times.
But man, I would love to know how he figured out that his teeth could be used to unscrew things!!!!

If he tries to unscrew something with his hands and is unsuccessful, he will stick the bottle in his mouth, hold the top with his teeth and then proceeds to turn the bottle with both hands.
Voi-la!!!!!!
It opens.
He has taken the lid off a can of Pringles potato chips by grabbing the plastic lid with his teeth and lifting up the lid.
Huh?
How does he know he can do these things? Where did he learn this? How does he figure this stuff out?
I have been trying to keep him in his bed at night and out of mine. Since he can work a door knob now, I lock my bedroom door.
Well, I'll be dang it, the kid has figured out a way to still get in!!!!
He goes into the bathroom, turns on the water in the sink and leaves it running.
The first night I just jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom and turned off the water.
Well, when I returned to my bedroom, I found that Dion had ran in, hopped in bed, and covered - or shall I say hid - under the bed covering.
LOL!!!!
The first time he did it I thought, "Now isn't that smart." and allowed him to stay in bed with me that night without much fuss for coming up with such a clever plan.
But he has now done that four times!!! Yes, four times!!!!! Four times of running water. AAGGRRHHH!!!!!!
On the third and fourth times, I yelled through the door for him to turn off the water, and he just cried.
He cried and cried until I finally got up, opened the door, went to the bathroom, saw a teary-eyed Dion standing in front of the sink on his stool. He dashed past me.
I turned off the water and returned to my bed, to find that Dion had snuggled himself in.
I know that now I have to take him back to bed each time he does that, but man, this kid is smart. He should be rewarded for coming up with such a great plan, shouldn't he?
Plus, if I really wanted to, I could lock him in his bedroom. So on some level, I think I appreciate his problem-solving skills.
But man, this kid is challenging.
When I showed a photo of Dion to the executive editor here, he didn't say the normal, "He's cute" or "He has a big smile." No my editor said, "He has a big forehead."
I was insulted at first until he added, "That means he is smart."
As I said I was insulted at first.
But you know, Dion is proving him right.