A blog about Personal Journals.
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I see a little boy looking out of his window every day. He looks sad? Maybe bored? Anxious to go outside? I don’t know. But every day I I sit here and wonder.
He lives in a roach hotel. You know the kind. The ones you rent by the week. I work right across the street from this hotel. And the things I see make me run home and hug my own children. The kids run around outside in diapers in the middle of winter. No supervision. Cops come once a week at least either looking for, or arresting somebody
A few months ago there was a cute little girl playing outside all day. At one point she decided it was time to go inside. She knocked and knocked on the door. But they wouldn’t let her in. Finally, a man opened the door and told her to get the hell away from the door. Then he shut it and locked it. She left for a few minutes then came back. She knocked again. The man threatened to beat her ass. He told her HE would tell HER when it was time to come in.
Dejected, the girl went and sat on the sidewalk for a little while. Then decided she’d try again. Same results. At this point my coworker decided she needed to call CPS. A few minutes later, the cops arrived. I don’t know what happened but I do know the little girl was finally allowed back in the room/apartment. Only problem is, same thing happened the next day, cops were called again. By the next week, that family was gone.
Where is that little girl going to end up when she grows up? Will she be in an abusive relationship? Will she resort to drugs to mask her pain? Where will she be in five years? Will she have survived her childhood undamaged? Will she even live that long?
Every time I see an older kid, hoodlum, gangster, thug, I always think to myself, “this kid was once a cute adorable little boy/girl.” And it makes me sad. I wonder if he grew up in an atmosphere where he didn’t know any better. He simply followed the footsteps that were left behind for him.
Perhaps he didn’t know he had better choices. I can’t help but wonder what this cute little boy in the window will be when he grows up. Will he be a teacher, a truck driver, a cop?, a store clerk?, an author?, a rapist?, a murderer? I know that sometimes as parents we do the best we can and our kids still turn out rotten. I realize that. I understand that somewhere along the line they will have choices to make and they may not be the right ones. And sometimes these choices will be life altering.
One of my son’s good friends recently was suspended for possession of cocaine. This is a kid that I’ve watched grow up before my very eyes. He’s a star football player that at one point was probably at a party, or with his older cousins, or whatever… and was asked to try cocaine. He chose YES. He has now changed his life course. He can no longer play football. Will he change his life around at this point? I don’t know? But he has a choice. And he has a strong family support at home in case he chooses drugs are not for him.
But some kids don’t even have that choice. Just like the kids that I see living in the roach hotel. Their parents are probably druggies, or alcoholics. These kids are born into a world much different than what you and I know. They live things we only see on T.V. And the cycle is hard to break. It can be done But it is not easy. Who is going to take the time nowadays to help these kids out? To show them that life DOES get better. Who is going to tell them they have other choices than what they are experiencing right now? These kids have no moral or emotional support at home and are in desperate need of a mentor. They need somebody to believe in them. They need somebody to love them. They need somebody to teach them. Will you be that somebody? Will I?
I got home from work last night and my hubby, K said he talked to his friend W. W wanted to know if we were interested in going to the Justin Timberlake/Pink concert. I love them both so of course I said hell yeah!
He says, “OK. But get this! W calls and says we have to first sign up for the Justin Timberlake FAN CLUB which costs $45.00 to join, then we can buy tickets during the fan club members ONLY pre-sale”
I’m like…. Wait a minute… W IS A MEMBER OF THE JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE FAN CLUB? Hahahhaha.
K started laughing too. We were both laughing soooo hard. He said when W called he started the conversation like this, “Dude, before I say anything, I just have to say, Whatever you do, DON’T LAUGH.”
Then he gave him the instructions on how to get the tickets.
It happened this morning. I'm driving my kids to school, listening to a mix CD we always listen to when we're driving around together. It's definitely a MIX of music. It's got Linkin Park, Korn, Jack Johnson, Blink 182, 50 Cent, Eminem and the ROCKY theme song... yup. Eye of the Tiger. It also has a bunch of other songs that I love but I don't know who sings them.
So anyways, I ask my son if he listened to the Dashboard Confessional's podcast yet. He said "yeah, it was a good interview. I can't believe Matt got to interview him! He's bad." I said, "he is? isn't he Emo?" He said, "I don't know? I guess? We have one of his songs on the mix CD, listen" Then he sets it on #12. It's one of my favorite songs on the CD. Hmmmm I guess I like Emo. Who knew? Not me! I just love music. I love some jazz, some rock, some heavy metal(from my head banging days), I love Il Divo... but I also love Cristina Aguilera. I love The Smiths.. but I also love some of 50 Cents songs, I love Santana, I love the Filthies, I love Bob Marley, I love No Doubt, but I also love the new Gwen Stefani solo stuff, I love Mento Buru, I love Patsy Cline. Yeah, I just love music. Lately I've been jamming to Zeno and the Stoics song, Holy Lie. I just love that song. Who of us hasn't lived or wished for a Holy Lie? It's a great song. Anyways, I told my son, "ewwww You like Emo?" he laughed and said, "shhhh I'm a closet Emo lover, don't tell anybody though" His secret is safe with me. :) So sssshhhhh I'm an Emo lover too. Don't tell anybody though. I still remember it like it was yesterday. Things like this you relive over and over and over. And then when you start to forget, something happens. Then you relive it all over again.
We were in the third grade. My best friend and I, along with a few other kids in the neighborhood, were playing Hide-and-go-seek. Well, sort of. Us girls were hiding from the boys. The boys were chasing us. My best friend D. and I were crawling, hiding behind the bushes of the Rosa Vista projects office in McFarland. We were just being silly girls and having fun.
I looked over at her and her eyelid was folded over her eye. For a split second it was just white. I could have sworn the white was her skull. And since I couldn’t see her eye, because her eyelid was folded over it, I thought for sure she’d lost it somewhere behind the bushes. Then it happened. Blood started gooshing out. A lot of it. Fast. I panicked, and yelled, “D, your eye is split open. OMG OMG OMG…”
Then she started crying and screaming. And I started crying and screaming. I pushed her into the water meter and I popped her eye out. OHMYGOD! I was going to jail for sure.
We ran towards her house. I opened the door and yelled for her mom, “Mrs. D, Mrs. D… your daughter’s eye is popped out. She fell behind the bushes and her eye popped out.” Yeah, notice how I conveniently forgot to mention the reason she fell was because I PUSHED HER. I wasn’t gonna take the blame at this point. I didn’t want to go to jail.
In true Mexican mom fashion, she yelled at her. Instead of consoling her. She yelled at her. “AY muchacha, how many times have I told you…… “ I don’t know how she finished that sentence. I ran home and hid in my room. I didn’t want to go to jail.
I didn’t see her for the rest of the summer. I thought I’d killed her. I thought since I’d popped her eye out, maybe she was blind? Maybe she'd lost so much blood she was too weak to get out of bed? I thought so many things. But I never went to check for sure. I thought if they ever saw me again, they would arrest me for sure. Yes, I was selfish. Sure I was worried about her. I mourned her. I thought I'd lost my best friend. And it was my fault. But mostly, I thought, I don't want to go to jail.
School started and I was so happy to see my friend. With a tiny scar above her eyebrow. Three stitches. Turns out she wasn’t dead. She was just grounded. I was relieved. I missed my best friend. We picked up right where we'd left off. Like nothing ever happened. And she never once blamed me. As far as she was concerned, she fell. And I once again conveniently forgot to mention to her that she didn't fall. I PUSHED HER.
I’m lucky to report we’re still best friends. And yes, I have confessed to her what really happened. And we laugh about it. I think I’ve become a better friend since then. I no longer push my friends to go faster than they can go. And if they are ever sitting at home somewhere with their eye popped out, I’m almost certain that I would go by and visit. And maybe read to them. Or take them chicken soup. At least, I hope I will. But I also hope I never have to find out.
My 7 yearl old asked me that last night.
I said no, and held in my chuckle. Then he took off singing that song. "I'm in love with a stripper" So I stopped him and said, "Honey, you can't sing that song. Stripper is a bad word." He said, "Then why didn't you tell me that when I said it right now?" "Ummmmmm I don't know. But it is. It's worse than stupid or shut up so don't say it, ok?" (stupid and shut up are VERY BAD words in my household) Have I ever been in love with a stripper? hmmmmm Definitely not a conversation I ever thought I'd be holding with my 7 year old son. Sounds like somebody is not listening to Disney radio when they are babysitting my kids. Do you believe in love at first sight? My seven year old son asked me that the other day. Actually, what he asked is how did I meet daddy. I said, “We used to work together a long time ago."
He came in to look for a job and I gave him an application. He said, “And when you first saw him you just fell in love and then you got married, hu mommy?” I thought about it for about half a second and said, “Actually, when I first saw him I thought, ‘ I want to make two handsome and smart and adorable babies with that man. I HAVE to marry him.’ And guess what Baby Twinkie, he DID make me two handsome, smart, adorable, wonderful babies.” He smiled. I could tell that comment made him happy. He doesn’t need to know that I don’t believe in love at first sight, right? LOL
Although the story for years if my husband told it, was just that. It was love at first sight according to him. “The first time I saw you I thought, ‘I’m going to marry that girl’” I always sort of just rolled my eyes in my mind or when he wasn't looking. ewww. Love at first sight? How cheesy. And soooo not true. That’s just what people say in hindsight after they’re married. Or am I being too cynical? Until one day I heard him tell the story to a friend. I don’t think he realized I could hear him. He said, “The first time I saw Twinkie, I thought, ‘Oh yeaaaaah, She's hot. One of these days, I’m gonna hit that’”
That’s my man! And that’s more believable than the his original version. What a relief. And it makes me feel a lot better since when I first saw him I thought, “I wonder what he wants? What a dork. He looks lost. I should ask him if he needs help.”
There's a battle of the friends going on right now. And The Novelist and Glenda are neck to neck. This is more exciting than the Turkey and Pig Races at the fair this past weekend.
Who to root for? Who will win? I am going with Glenda. Just because she who holds the wand holds the power. Or should I go with the Novelist? He who holds the knowledge holds the power. So confusing. Who are you rooting for? Or will the underdog come in and steal the race? |
Local time is currently Sun Sep 7, 2008 1:32:41 am PDT
Bakotopia is 100% local to Bakersfield, CA, USA
