Popcorn Songs

Guest blogger Laura D offers this view from the trenches.

This World Needs to Change

In 2005, 380 people were murdered in Philadelphia. Two were sons of
clients - one mother turned back to drugs in her grief; the other turned
her life around, in hopes of keeping the rest of her children safe.
Two were clients. Bashir was trying to get his grandfather's car keys
back that the grandfather's girlfriend had traded a dealer for crack.
The dealer shot him dead in broad daylight. Sam got into a verbal
argument outside a bar on December 30. He was shot in the chest, point
blank.

Philadelphia's crime statistics have never been good, but the murder
rate is up 15% from the year before. I assumed my clients and their
familys were numb to the overwhelming nature of it all - what's 15% more
when every street in your neighborhood has lost a son or daughter? I
was wrong.

Today a client was sentenced to 5-10 years in jail for a string of
burglaries. This was a bit longer sentence than I had anticipated. I
expected the family to be mad. As we waited for the elevator, his mother
told his girlfriend to stop crying, saying, "he's alive, baby, he's
alive. He won't be out on these streets with all these killings. He's
gonna live. We should have never left New Orleans. Katrina would have
been better than this."

I'm not sure why I'm writing this. Maybe to just get the word out; to
mark the passing of people often forgotten. Sam's death didn't even
garner a blurb in the back of the paper. This has got to stop yet I have
no idea how. Stricter gun control laws have made no difference. Youth
intervention helps somewhat, when the counselors aren't teaching the
kids how to commit gun-point robberies (as recently happened in
Virginia). Prayer never hurts.

People have got to stop killing each other.

Thanks for listening.

As if my life is so interesting that somewhere there are people on the edge of their seat waiting for the next installment.

I've been taking a well-earned break. That's right, I needed a vacation from my social life. This past Tues & Wed were the first two days in a row since Christmas that I had nothing to do. I was going 6 of 7 or more going out, meeting people, partying, or whatever. I needed *me* time.

So I broke my 3 months of *no* computer games and bought Civ IV. (The lovely picture above.) I like it. This is the real 'quit' test. Like quitting smoking and keeping a pack of cigarettes around. Willpower. Must... not... play... more... than... two hours... ARGHHHH! Whew.

I am officially a member of the local volunteer fire company. Apparently I signed up for the firefighting group, which is cool. I think it will be awhile before I'm certified to do any real work. That's two of four down.

Finally saw Donnie Darko. I could take it or leave it. Certainly more interesting than The Day After Tomorrow. But no Rushmore or Pumpkin.

A special S-H-to-tha-izzout to Cake, Sam and crew! Bling Bling, Beotch!

I took their little "test" and they said I was smart enough to join. I said I was smart enough not to waste $79. Anyone notice anything strange about the percentages?

Last night I went to bed with the spins for the first time since the great broken dick night of 2002 at the Berwyn Tavern. For the record, I was 'Olive Nazi' and not 'Broken Dick Guy'. Karaoke was dead, but that was ok, since I felt like a laid back night.

I had the funniest IM chat ever with some girl off CL last night--I wish I'd had the foresight to save it. I was going on about 'narcissistic egomania' and other self-mockery. It was Armenian Christmas yesterday! How about that? Too bad I can't share (or remember) the whole thing.

Managed to sneak in a workout before any of that. After a whole missed week I was surprised at how easy it felt.

Thursday's game group played Caylus again. I decided I liked it. Ensign swore he'd never play it again.

Wednesday I had dinner in Manayunk. Worst first meeting ever. I'm never doing one of these in the city on a work night again. I was late, flustered, and completely unprepared. From the moment I sat down it was over. The waitress, an older asian lady, looked at her watch and gave me a disapproving, 'tsk tsk.' J, who was very nice but had no way of knowing how flustered I was, as soon as I sat down said, "So, tell me about yourself." And the dumbass ball started rolling. "Um, well, I just started putting myself back out there last November..." etc. The thing about the dumbass ball (as Ken perfectly explained) is once it starts rolling, there is no stopping it. Dumbass momentum is too powerful.

Tuesday was the glorious day of doing nothing.

Monday was game day at my place. We played a whole bunch of cool new games. The one where we point foam guns at each other, the one where you have to survive the zombie attack (but not 'Zombies', a different one), the one where you collect dragons and faeries and warriors, and Caylus. There was a bit of drama that was later played off as a 'joke'. Eh, whatever... I'm mostly amused that it's not me at the center of it, having been there so many times myself. You'd think I'd be more sympathetic, but it's just really funny to witness from the sidelines for a change.

Sunday... mmmmm, Sunday.

Saturday was the Merry Vicemas party. Al got very drunk and doesn't remember all the secrets he spilled. So, everyone should be nice and help Al remember what he said and did. For my part, I practiced conversation starters based on the comedy of Sarah Silverman and my one-man West Side Story act you can catch next time you're in the Catskills.

Go ahead... type in a move... I dare you!

Labels: games

I want to write all about

• the new bed
  
• the Merry Vicemas party
  
• Like sands through the Blood Bowl timer, so are the Games of Our Lives
  

but I'm too busy right now... raincheck!