Am I My Brother's Keeper?

Last night, I visited a friend who lives in an apartment. As we sat watching a movie, suddenly, I hear shrieking, screaming, and the sound of violence from the apartment below. Immediately, I got a knot in my stomach... I think any woman who's experienced domestic violence does. I wondered at the choice to mute the television and listen to the exchange happening in the adjacent apartment... as the violence escalated, the child in the apartment started to cry and I heard the mother pleading, as if to prevent her child from being harmed. I urged my friend to call the police and was sickened at the response, "They fight all the time. I don't want to get involved." My mind was reeling... I heard what sounded like someone being forced up against a wall... a thud of human flesh against a solid surface... a sound I've heard before... an impact I've felt. I came unglued. I couldn't believe that we were sitting just yards away listening as if to the Sunday Night Movie of the Week and doing absolutely NOTHING.

Finally, reluctantly, my friend called 911. The police arrived and we heard them knock on the door. Within a few minutes they were gone -- things were quiet, save the muffled sobs of the woman wafting through the vents. Had our intervention accomplished anything? Were we right to call the police? I don't know... but I DO know that I view my friend much differently now... someone whose only thought was of the possibility of retaliation for being a "whistle blower." My only thought was that, if just for one night, mother and child were okay... I just wish I could tell her that it doesn't have to be this way... that she deserves better... that no one has the right to hit her or hurt her in any way. Her wracked sobs echo in my mind, "I didn't do anything, I didn't do anything..." and my heart breaks for her.

A bit o' fun for this balmy Thursday...

79 doesn't sound so bad... that's almost a whole 'nother life... plus, I really don't want to get TOO old.

A Sister for Caleb

I'm in a quandary today. A colleague took me to see a litter of miniature poodle puppies this week from the same mother as one of her pups. Her dog completely changed my opinion of poodles -- a breed I've never been particularly fond of. The puppies are adorable and, being my usual impulsive self, I put down a deposit on one of the little girls. Now I'm having second thoughts. Housebreaking a puppy while working 6 days a week and struggling with health issues and an irregular income stream... what was I thinking? Well, I was thinking that giving Caleb a little brother or sister would make his lonely days less so... but is leaving TWO dogs alone all day any better? Wouldn't the puppy be better off with a SAHM and some kids? Or maybe a retired couple who will love and pamper and cuddle it all day long? Is my guilt at leaving my beloved Caleb home alone clouding my judgment? Is that being MAGNIFIED by the cute factor of the pups? (Did I SAY how adorable the puppies were... Oh. My. Gosh. They're just precious -- this is what they'll look like in a few weeks) Is it possible to love TWO dogs as much as I love Caleb?

Oh, the questions... the sheer magnitude of the decision... I'm overwhelmed.

Cut to the Quick

Your best friend

The one you tell everything

The one who knows you best

The one who holds your heart in her hand

Can crush you with her words

Can shatter your dreams

Your worst enemy.

(c) L.M.B. 2006

All rights reserved

Yesterday, my best friend hurt me so deeply that I find myself floundering in a sea of mixed emotions. I am angry, I am hurt -- wounded to the very core of my being at her thoughtless, cutting words -- and yet I am unable to imagine my life without her in it. I want to lash out -- to say the things that love has never allowed me to say to her -- to lay low her dreams as she has mine... but what would that accomplish, save having her feel first-hand the pain she has caused me? I want to let it go... to move on... but I can't get past one question: why? Why would this woman I love so deeply, to whom I am connected not just by friendship, but by blood, betray me? Perhaps I will never understand. For now, I'm just keeping my distance... licking my wounds and wondering if we'll ever get back to where we were before this happened. The trust that took nearly twenty years to restore was destroyed with just six venomous words. That venom, though not fatal, courses through my veins, tainting heart and mind and spirit.

Married on Weekends

I have a friend who shares a unique relationship with her husband. He lives in another town -- about three hours away (he moved there for a job opportunity) and they only see each other on weekends and special occasions. They vacation together, they chat online during the week, they go to one another's company Christmas party. They're still legally married, with all of its benefits and tax advantages, yet sometimes they'll go a month or so without seeing one another. It seems to be working quite nicely for them. They're faithful to one another and have no plans to change their current situation.

She says that the sex is better than it ever was when they were living together -- kind of like early dating sex, where you can't wait to get one another's clothes off and then can't get enough of each other. She says the relationship is like getting the prize in the box of cereal without having to dig through the whole box to find it... she shares all of the good stuff with him and then they each go to their own homes and live the way they want to. Her home is decorated in French Country, his contemporary; she's a neat freak, he's a slob; she's a vegetarian, he's a steak and 'taters kinda guy; she loves opera, he loves Jazz; he lets the dogs sleep on the bed, she'd never hear of such a thing. All of the little annoyances of living under the same roof have been removed and all that's left is the good stuff. It's probably not for everyone, but it has me thinking... married on weekends... what a concept!

Black is Beautiful!

I just finished my 2005 taxes and I'm happy and ASTONISHED to tell you that I'm actually in the black this year! I was afraid that self-employment taxes would chew me a new one -- but thanks to the fact that I was a statutory employee for much of the year, it turns out that I don't owe any self-employment tax! (The reasons for that are sad -- I posted a loss for the year -- but at least I don't have to dole any moolah out to Uncle!) SE taxes will be a regular part of my existence for 2006, but today I'm celebrating a year of HAPPY RETURNS!

I think I'll celebrate with a bottle of bubbly and a nice hot bath... a little jazz on the stereo and some scented candles... yeah, that's the ticket!