An afternoon with the deranged

When I woke up this morning, I did not think today would be as eventful as it has been. I dropped Greg off at the airport, got to work horrendously early (6:50) and went about my normal Monday routine.

Until I got back from lunch.

Our new runner mentioned that two people were sitting on our front steps. Assessing that they were not so nefarious looking as to scare me, I decided to take the nice approach and ask them to move along. I politely explained that this company does not permit loitering and that the proper authorities would be notified is they did not vacate the premises. The man that was sitting there silently got up and left, while the woman also perched on the stoop began to rant about how she had to go to the bathroom. I calmly explained that we did not have public restrooms, but that the Sheraton next door could probably accommodate her. I then reiterated that she must leave, said thanks and walked back inside. She got up and left, so I thought everything was fine. (Typically when police-intervention is threatened, these people move on as to avoid being busted for public intoxication and whatnot.)

Not, so. As I was soon to find out.

About ten minutes after the initial "run-in," this woman returns to the building and walks in right up to my desk and asks me to call 911. She appeared to be fine, so I told her I was calling the police and not an ambulance. Might I add I did all of this in my most accommodating and polite voice, even though inside I was a bit perturbed and slightly scared. This woman had a huge growth/tubes on the side of her face, slightly covered with a big bandage of gauze... that coupled with her erratic behavior was enough to make me nervous.

She was quite verbally abusive, asking me if we just hired "rich b*tches" or if I was the only one. Besides that lovely term, which I think she decided had to be my name, I think I was called something to the effect of a "stupid whore" and a "nice wench." I was also asked about my personal medical history and if I wanted to see her die or faint/throw up on our floor. So ten minutes go by, then fifteen, and no police are in site. The lady whips out a cell phone (hmm... you can't call 911 on that?) and calls a friend down at the homeless shelter. She tries to get me to talk to him, but I don't. There was no point. (Especially considering the fact that she's telling this guy on the phone that I have been verbally and physically abusive and all of these other ridiculous fallacies that I just don't have the energy to elucidate.)

This woman was truly inexplicable, obviously mentally disturbed and completely belligerent. I call the police once again to ensure that someone is indeed coming, only to find out that they have other calls they are attending to.

At this point I am so frustrated and getting more nervous by the second, that I am in tears. At this point, no one had come up to offer assistance or anything like that, just a couple of emails from coworkers in the vicinity. (Which was appreciated, don't get me wrong.) I finally call Jami to come down and sit with me, and she ends up giving me a break from the rantings of the psycho woman. Forty minutes have passed and there is no sign of the police. So Jami calls 911, only to find that the police are actually on their way. (Yeah, it's about [insert word here] time.)

They finally get here, accompanied by an ambulance and a fire truck (seriously?) and we unearth the Vodka bottle she stashed in one of our chairs. Classy, really. And after about fifteen more minutes of questioning and stuff, she's finally taken away in the ambulance.

I guess the good thing about this specific occurrence is that we will be implementing a protocol to prepare us for the next time something like this happens (which is hopefully NEVER), which I think is great. I guess the problem I have with an event like this is that it really does nothing to dissuade me from my negative opinions/impressions about transients. This troubles me greatly. Because it's obvious this woman is not mentally stable, and needs serious help. Part of my tears were a result of feeling so much sadness for her and her situation. But she scared me, she berated me, she didn't allow me to help her. So what do I do in that situation?

When I was in Uganda I held babies who had AIDS and other maladies in my arms and didn't blink an eye, but I didn't want to touch this woman or talk on her phone because I was afraid of contracting something. Don't get me wrong, I do not think it's prudent to use a stranger's cellular device or give them a big hug... and in this day and age you really have to expect the worst... I just think it's sad that the world has come to this.

Maybe she has had a series of bad breaks. Maybe she's a drug addict. Maybe she's just certifiably crazy. All I know is, I hope she forgets that she ever came here and never bothers me again. And next time, I will have my mace.

P.S. So I haven't been getting a lot of comments on my posts lately, which is fine I guess because I think only about five people read this. But seriously, I love feedback, so don't be afraid to comment if you so desire. Just think of it as a way to take pity on the sad little admin that keeps getting accosted by psychopaths.

Why you should never trust Oprah's booklist... and other holiday splendors.

Well, I would have to say that this Christmas was pretty much the best Christmas ever. Which isn't bad for our first Christmas as man and wife. (Or as anything for that matter, since our first date was on Dec.23, 2006.) So we were excited and definitely not disappointed. And it's fun to have three families during holiday time because you get to celebrate the gloriousness of Christ's birth, not one, but THREE times!!! And you get to open presents three times too. Which presents were all enjoyable, might I add. I mean we're talking great clothes...great shoes... great purses... a trip to New York... great stuff.

I only read one book over the break (because it was like 1000 pages... well 967) and I am sorry to report that it was less than desirable. Which brings me to the central issue of this entry: Oprah's book list SUCKS. I won't lie, I had high hopes for this novel-- it got some great reviews (all of which ended up inside the book... which I think is an attempt to over-compensate for a lack of good material), and Oprah gave a signed copy away to her audience on her "favorite things" episode. It's called The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett, and if you've read it and you liked it, then you have terrible taste in literature. Haha. Just kidding. I'm a firm believer that everyone is entitled to their own opinion. Except Oprah, because her opinion is just all around BAD. ;)

I've read books off her list before, and they're usually just WEIRD. If not weird, terribly depressing and/or sexually explicit and/or disturbingly violent. Granted, there are a few marked exceptions from this pattern, but we're talking single digits-type exceptions. I am by no means conservative when it comes to literature, but I would love to get through a book that is not heavy leaden with f words and c words (sorry, Toni Morrison) and detailed accounts of rapes and other violence. Sure, this novel is set in the 1100s... but I think that a lot of the disturbing content could have been done tactfully, if there is such a thing. Actually, I think those who are masters of their craft can and do achieve such a thing. (Read Native Son if you don't believe me.)

I am not opposed to visceral content in what I read; in fact, said content can in fact prove to be didactic. But I don't want to read something that is constantly bombarding me with this type of content in an effort to titillate me or in some misguided way enthrall me. I find that sort of novel an abhorrence to those who can actually write. I finished the dang book... but only because I was clinging to the hope that it would end somewhat happily so I could drown out all of the, as I like to call it, "TMI" of the novel. To Follet's credit, he was able to kind of tie the story up in a neat little bow, but I was still left dissatisfied.

Do not fear, dear readers, I am now embroiled in a quest to read some classics that I have not yet read in my life, and things are turning out quite well. And hopefully you all had a merry lil Christmas (or a happy holiday if you're agnostic) and a happy new year.

Minivans, Ice cream trucks, and why I loathe George Steinbrenner

Mmk, so the first part of this entry will be an endorsement and an elaboration of Kenna's post about minivans. She raises an excellent point about the idiocy of minivan drivers, and their danger to the roads as a whole. After reading her post on Friday, as I was traveling home, I was dismayed to see that I was boxed in by minivans. I immediately felt a sense of danger, and had to slam on my brakes to avoid a collision, as one of the aforementioned vehicles cut me off. (Right in front of the SLC Temple, mind you.) The icing on the cake was that its license plate cover read, "Cougar Auto." Enough said.

On Saturday, I went to Greg's last soccer game. And what a game it was! Yellow and red cards galore (just the way I like it)... and the game was called twenty minutes early to curb any more brawls/injuries. Obviously, Greg's team killed their opponents, which is not surprising, but very satisfying, notwithstanding. Though we had a brief respite from the rain, it was still a bit on the chilly side. (And admittedly, four inch stiletto boots, no matter how amazing they are, are not the best footwear for a muddy field.) Consequently, I was befuddled to discover that an ice cream truck was driving around the field and its environs, it's tinkling music almost mocking the cold. Are you serious? Who drives an ice cream truck around during the end of October? I think somebody missed the memo that people who are sitting outside freezing their arses off are NOT in the mood for frozen goodness. If you've got a hot chocolate, hook a girl up. If not, put the truck away, and bide your time until May.

Lastly, (which I've always thought was an awkward, quasi-intellectual word... but I can't think of another one right now, so oh well) now that I have cooled off a bit, I feel the need to expound the reasons why I loathe George Steinbrenner, which is typified in the whole Joe Torre situation. I am a Yankees fan. I have been since birth. I know the players, the lineup, the rotation, so you're welcome to test me. I am a die-hard and I always will stay true to my team. That being said, I absolutely hate what Steinbrenner has done to my beloved team. True, his tenure had spanned longer than my life, but in recent years his illogical and idiotic decisions have cost my dear pinstriped team. First was the acquisition of various divas of the game, culminating in the procurement of A-Rod... and yet investing no such effort in finding good pitching. But that's enough material for another entry. Now, it's the blatantly offensive "offer" that he extended to Joe Torre at the end of this season. What a joke! Torre is one of the classiest, successful managers in the history of the sport, and he's offered a non-negotiable pay cut. For taking the Yankees to the post season for twelve straight years, taking the AL East 10 of those 12 years, and delivering 4 World Series titles? What a huge mistake. Mark my words, it's gonna cost the Yankees. BIG. I think men like Steinbrenner should stop pretending they know anything about the game, and leave it to the people who do. I still love my Yankees though. Sigh.