Over exposed.

I'm tired. As I sit here staring at my computer, waiting for the words to come...all I can think is, "I'm tired."

Tired of laying my feelings on the line, only to have them misunderstood, or even worse - ignored. Why do I even blog or journal anymore? I tell myself it's to make a record of my memories and my life....but for whom? I read them from time to time, and they only serve to depress me and make me sad over the state of my emotions. I wonder if anyone ever truly will care enough to want to know THAT much about my feelings and my thoughts....? Highly unlikely.

So these days I just sit....staring at a keyboard, and waiting for some epiphany to let loose the floodgates and allow the words to come. Only it never happens. Which leaves me feeling sad, and empty. And as though everything I ever had to say that was of any importance, any significance, any consequence at all - to ANYONE....has already been said.

And then I wonder; if I have nothing else to say at 41 years old....where exactly do I go from here?

Match.com - 2003 recap.

So I wrote this "dating blog" before I even knew what a blog was – back in 2003. At the time, I'd decided that what I really needed was a boyfriend. And I figured match.com was going to be the solution to that quest. I pretty much jumped in to online dating whole heartedly….since I was off work for 8 months on a bogus IA investigation (that's a whole other story….but don't worry…at least I was getting paid to sit home and be depressed about my impending unemployment).

So basically, I had A LOT of time on my hands….and met these 20 guys in about a 4- month period. It was interesting to say the least. Quite the learning experience to be sure. Online dating is no better or worse than any other form of dating…except it allows for people to misrepresent themselves right off the bat – and lie about their appearance, their jobs, their income, their criminal history…..etc. It's actually a pretty interesting social experiment when you get down to it….one that I'm glad I participated in. But from now on, I think I'm better off meeting people the old fashioned way.

In a bar.

Match Meetings

(and the reason he wasn't what I was looking for…)

1. Benet - The name should have said it all…. About 40 lbs overweight (false advertising photos!). Only went out once. He made me get all dressed up so he could parade me around this snooty Hollywood sushi place. Then he tried to talk military tactics and politics with me – based on his brief stint in the Marines over 10 YEARS AGO. Favorite stupid question… "So, have you ever made any entries with your gun drawn?" (Spoken as if I was a complete paper pusher and had never seen any action at work) - I could have kicked this guy's ass with one hand tied behind my back. WHAT A BOOB. What I learned about Match.com from this date: NEVER go out with someone who has modeling or glamour photos online. There's a reason they had all that touch-up work done…

2. Roy - Nice guy. Moderately good looking. Went out three times to dinner. No hand holding – no kiss. All right conversation – but he did talk an awful lot about the military (again – I think men think that this impresses me for some reason). Major turnoffs – that BRACELET he wore (jewelry on guys is not my thing). And also when he told me about his plan to move all his stock options and evidence of income into a foreign bank to prevent his ex wife from getting any child support from him. Granted, he was paying ALLOT – but come on – that's a little underhanded and unethical if you ask me… Glad I wasn't his ex.

3. James - The kisser. Kissed me on the second meeting (wouldn't have been so horrible except it was at an arcade and both our kids were running around! – very bad timing on his part). Nice guy (I think). Something about him was just off though. Too needy – liked me too much too soon (it would have been different if I was really into him – but he had no reason to like me THAT much). Went out 4 times – but then called it quits. When I knew it wasn't going to work: Date 3 – when he tried to debate with me over how a police officer had violated his civil rights by asking him some questions on a traffic stop. PULLEAZE! I believe his exact words to the cop were… "I haven't broken any laws – so I don't have to answer your questions…" and this guy wonders why the cop treated him like an asshole….

4. Sam - Nice guy. OK looking. Went out twice – I think he wore the same thing both times. Not bad if he looked hot, but his jeans were pretty tight (too tight – plus he wore one of those skin tight black shirts that guys wear to make them look hot and muscular – those are soooo early 90's). He's a fire Chief – so we know some of the same people. No chemistry – no sparks – no kiss - just decent company. However I was a little concerned when he downed 2 glasses of straight up vodka within about 15 minutes on the first date. Another weird point – he corresponds ONLY via email. I've told him to call me – but he only emails. Weird. I don't think he's ever called me. I've never set up dates via email. Something going on there – wouldn't be surprised to find out he had a live in girlfriend or some other weirdness going on. No matter – there was no attraction anyway.

5. Anthony - An LA County deputy sheriff. Enough said. A courtesy date – kind of like a professional networking thing. Just went out the one time. It was painful to sit through lunch with this guy because he had probably the WORST set of teeth I had ever seen. Not to mention he talked about himself the WHOLE time. I don't think he asked me one question about myself. NOT ONE. What I learned about Match.com from this date: NEVER rely on photos where the person has their mouth closed. ALWAYS check for their teeth in the pictures….

6. Kent - Nice guy. Relatively good looking. Good job, nice house. Two kids ( same ages as mine). Nice car. Went out 3 times (still no kiss). BUT THAT FURNITURE! He was only 34 and had his house furnished like my parents house. I was not comfortable in this guys house. His idea of artwork was to have a 10x13 framed picture of himself holding a big mouth bass. And he had several of those floral – cottage in the woods – Robert Kincade – stuff you see only at your grandparents house – paintings in the living room. Very odd. Maybe it was his parents house….. Plus, he had no candles. I can imagine how Unsexy he was in the bedroom…. He had ZERO sex appeal – didn't even make me curious to see what he kissed like. Worst move on his part: Telling me he had this "friend" he had sex with occasionally (just a basic booty call). He assured me their relationship was going nowhere – but because of his sex drive he needed to keep seeing her to get satisfied. I let him know that kind of relationship was fine with me – since he sure as hell wasn't going to be getting any from ME. What I learned: What looks "good on paper" may not always measure up in real life.

7. Scott M - Another cop. Nice guy. Very good phone conversation – very cool. Had an extra ticket to a concert and asked me to go at the last minute - before we had even met. Talked about work the whole time. He was not terribly attractive (again with the "not great teeth") – but a really nice guy, so it was ok. Went to the concert together, and then never went out after that. I think the feeling was mutual – there were no sparks and we pretty much acted like co-workers rather than two people who were on a date. No chemistry – but he's still on my friends and family email list.

8. Stephen - Another cop. Actually a Lt. With CHP. Professional courtesy date 3. Lived very local – so I figured what the hell. NICE guy. Probably too nice for me. Made him seem a little soft…. That sounds bad. He was attractive, nice house, nice car, great job, but again – no chemistry. Felt like I was on a job interview or something…. No kiss – and no second date.

9. Ken - Nice guy. Older (44). Which really isn't old – but he seems older. Kind of reserved and conservative. Pretty good looking, in that "not gorgeous – but with sex appeal" way. Went out like 10 times! But he was very aloof. Didn't even try to kiss me, or hold my hand for that matter, until the 8^th date – so maybe I'm just not his type. Our social classes are probably much too far apart. Oh yes, and he has no kids – so his lifestyle was DRAMATICALLY different than mine – antiques all over his house, cars that cost more than my HOUSE! I couldn't really see it working out (other than having good company once in a while). But very nice guy – still on my friends and family email list. UPDATE: Finally kissed me - on the 8^th date. Not bad, kind of stiff though. But he is still sooo reserved, and has not tried anything but a kiss – even though we've dated for 2 months now. He's very rigid – I can't see him getting wild and ripping my clothes off, or getting all worked up over me (and the feeling is mutual). He's so nice, but yet – the chemistry just doesn't seem to be there. I'll give it a little longer…. But I'm afraid I already know the outcome. Especially with Mike (from 16) in the picture… physically and chemistry wise – there is just no comparison, and the contrast is really obvious. I think I'm just too passionate for him. UPDATE 2: What a hoot – had gotten tickets to go to some event together, then he cancelled at the last minute – saying he had "business" out of town. Unbeknownst to him, my girlfriends were at the same event and spotted him there with some really young looking stripper-type. Very tacky – and very unnecessary. No need to lie, when we weren't even intimate or exclusive…. What I learned from this guy: Wealth and social status does not necessarily equate to having class and good taste.

10. A.J. - Another deputy sheriff. Emailed me because he recognized me from a TV documentary I was on a few years ago (apparently he thought I was hot back then - so he had wanted to meet me). Lived close, good looking, typical cop personality (not really my type usually - but I had been missing work lately so it was nice). Went out once, then back to his house. Nice house, good decor - a little young though. And he was obviously too young (28). Put the moves on me and would not take no for an answer. Apparently thought "no" meant "yes." After repeatedly asking him not to hump my leg - I left. Alright, so I kissed him – but immediately regretted it when he acted like such a horny bastard. Biggest turnoffs: Of course the leg humping, the trying to touch my pink parts on the first date, the late night phone calls to ask me what I was doing (what the hell did he think I was doing at 12:00 a.m.?!?! I was SLEEPING!), and his insistence on telling me how uptight and bitchy I was all the time. He obviously wasn't getting the hint that I was not interested..... hence the bitchiness. What I learned: NO MORE COPS. Having someone who understands my job is not nearly as important as having someone who understands ME. (Eating crow) UPDATE 2008: Okay, so I conceed that 5 years ago he was a bit too cocky and arrogant...but he seems to have grown on me. Not only is he incredibly hot, no longer a cop, and infinitely more charming 5 years later....he is hella cool, and definately a good friend to have (especially if you are going to the Hard Rock in Vegas). Still, we've never sealed the deal...but that's probably because I'm too old for him now, and not a Playboy Playmate...lol....never-the-less, I'm glad I found him (on MySpace of all places!), and he's for sure a cool, cool, guy. And hey - we'll always have that makeout session in Anaheim Hills back in '03...:)

11. Scott L - Nice guy, cute, lives near the beach. Good conversation – no kiss. He works in the movie industry (so, long hours – little social time). His apartment is a bit of a mess though – which is ok if I were to be taking my kids over there to play playstation – but not ok if I want to go get cozy with him…Only went out once, then never planned another date. Odd – we got along well, and I'd probably have given him a reprieve on the messy house – but I guess he wasn't interested…. Wonder what it was I said?

12. Scott M - Cocky. Good looking, but cocky. Has that whole "I'm a fireman – so chicks want me" thing going. Had me go meet him at the fire station – where he made numerous innuendos and sexual remarks about the size of his "rig" and his "ladder". This guy probably gets more ass than a toilet seat. Can pretty much read the writing on the wall here…been there, done that, I'm not impressed. Other than the fact that he's a hot fireman, and has a nice Harley – I see nothing terribly interesting about this guy. Plus, his nose was too big. No second date on the horizon….

13. Nick - The manic guy. Or maybe he was on methamphetamines. What a FREAK. Talked a mile a minute and didn't let me get a word in. Talked the whole time about police officers, and how they have violated his civil liberties, and how they have ego problems. WHAT A TURN ON! This guy was such a freak – I'd have to write 3 pages just to go into how bizarre he was. Needless to say – no second date on the horizon and definately no kiss. Favorite stupid verbal slip: When he was telling me how lucky he felt the last time he got pulled over – because he didn't have any drugs or alcohol in the car. Of course I asked him – "do you usually have drugs and alcohol in your car?!?!?!" I mean for Christ sake – I AM a police officer you dip-shit!

14. Marc - Very cute. Very nice - (but kind of naughty I think). Went out 3 times. Likes candles and art (which mean he's probably good with the ladies). Very endearing accent – from the south. Good sense of humor. Kissed me on the first date! Can't decide if he's too assertive or just profoundly confident. But hey – it was a pretty good kiss, so I didn't complain. Best thing about this guy so far: His taste in furniture and home decorating skills. WOW! – His house has that certain ambience that makes you want to lounge around all day fooling around while you are taking breaks to eat and watch a little TV. Possible problem: This guy looks like someone who gets hit-on allot – and probably likes sex so much that he doesn't turn down many pretty girls…. Not to mention the fact that he copped a major attitude when he found out I wasn't going to put out on the 3^rd date. Haven't heard from him since… oh well…. Que sera sera.

15. Chris - Cute, nice, from the Midwest. Divorced with one little boy. Owns a roofing company. Went out once and he brought along a friend (that was different – but not horrible). Everything was going fine – looking forward to a second date, until he goes and makes a Stupid date move 1: He drinks so much that he ends up getting sloshed by the end of the night. I mean TOTALLY sloshed. And since I was totally sober – it was worse. His cheesy come-ons were really bad. He was smart enough not to try and kiss me – Thank God. But not smart enough to just be quiet and stop acting like a drunk. He called several times the next day – and apologized ( said he was really nervous on the date). He might get a second date – but I'm not sure. UPDATE: He got no second date…..

16. Mike - Wow. I could not have come up with a closer match (looks wise) than this guy. Salt and pepper hair – blue eyes – nice body – great smile – and to boot he's a fireman. I mean really – what are the odds? Went out once so far – had a great time – good conversation – kids in common – seems to good to be true (perhaps he's a lying cheating bastard underneath it all) J Of course I simply HAD to kiss this guy (that could have ruled him out in a heartbeat, a bad kisser = no second date). But darn it – he wasn't a bad kisser. Actually, he was a pretty darn good kisser. Oh shute – this guy is gonna be trouble. I can tell already. He could single handedly end my match.com days…. Oh well, we shall see…. UPDATE: Yeah – I caved…. Slept with him on date 3 and boy was it GREAT. It had been so long I almost forgot what it was like! J What the problem is: He has no desire to have a girlfriend at this point (recently divorced) . He wants no ties, no commitments, NADA – just casual fun. I can certainly provide the casual fun, but not for very long. Good sex or not, I still will eventually want and need more. What a bummer – having a conscience sucks sometimes. FINAL UPDATE: Unfortunately, sex with no other type of relationship just isn't for me. It makes me feel bad – and even though I tell myself we are both getting something out of it (that would be the great sex) – I still don't think it's fair to cheat myself out of the whole enchilada. I want more. Lasted only over a month, still amicable, End of story. L

17. Ken P - OK. So I never even planned on meeting this guy – but I spoke to him once on the phone (his emails were so funny – I felt I should at least decline his offer via phone) and after talking to him for 45 minutes – the next thing I know we had made plans for dinner! The problem is – while he seems to have many of the qualities I want – he's 54 YEARS OLD! A very good looking 54 – very nice body – very well put together – but still, he's 54 YEARS OLD! I mean really – this guy has two kids my age, and is old enough to be my dad… But, I went for dinner – and actually had a good time. He was very nice, VERY charismatic, very charming, better looking in person, extremely attentive, but still… he's 54 YEARS OLD! I don't know that I can get past that age difference. I like the 40 somethings…. But the 50 somethings are a whole other story. He even tried to give me a kiss after he walked me to my car (imagine! He's a 54 YEAR OLD horndog!) – but I respectfully went for the kiss on the cheek UPDATE: Never went out again – he left me a message that was sooooo corny and cheesy it was hysterical. Said something to the effect of "How's Wednesday? Can't wait to put my arms around ya!" – and it was in this "movie phone" kind of voice – like he was a tour guide at Disneyland…. Just really strange. I left him a message declining the Wednesday night offer – and haven't heard from him since.

18. Shannon - My same-name date. Very cute, very nice, fairly local (Newport), works in real estate development. Went to dinner and a movie – but he travels all the time, so not really a feasible boyfriend. Although, I probably would have gone out with him again. But I think he saw the writing on the wall too – since he never called me back. When the date was over – he told me to call him….. ANYWAY….. Plus, he had no kids, and made a comment about when he DID have kids he didn't think they should ever have to work (because he would be wealthy enough that they wouldn't have to). Totally against my beliefs about child rearing…. But then again, I'm not loaded now am I….J

19. Eike - The German guy. Went out once, had a really thick accent, so kind of hard to understand him. Nice, really good looking, but something was not there…I think it was the cultural thing. We just didn't click. Talked about having a second date, but we both used the "my schedule is really busy right now" excuse to put it off indefinitely.

20. Adam - After a two month hiatus from match.com – this is the first guy that emails me when I go back on the site. What a hottie. Totally gorgeous, and works LAPD (I know I said no more cops – but he's TOTALLY gorgeous). Anyway, divorced, two kids, lives in Huntington – so looked pretty plausible. Went out on a first date and got way too drunk ( I was sooooo nervous – what a switch). Ended up practically molesting the poor guy back at my house. Although in my intoxicated state, I knew I should not sleep with him – for some odd reason, breaking out my new pocket rocket seemed like a good idea at the time. What an IDIOT…. I have never in my life been so mortified after a date. Luckily, it didn't seem to bug him too much (go figure). Things got pretty hot and heavy after that, and two weeks into it he was asking about a "paperwork date." I blew off the topic, not because I wasn't interested, but because I was SURE he didn't realize the ramifications of asking for such a thing. I mean, a newly single guy probably doesn't know that getting an AIDS test so you can have unprotected sex automatically means you're in an exclusive relationship. That's just not something you do with a casual partner. So, we dated for a month (pretty frequently), and I got really clingy (like a girlfriend), until I realized he was starting to spend more and more time back on match.com. Red Flag 1: When the super fantastic new guy you are crazy about - is looking at other chicks on match.com – something's not right. So of course, I had the "talk" about seeing other people (did it via email 'cause I'm just too much of a coward to hear the truth in person). Naturally, my fears were confirmed…. Another case of not wanting to be "exclusive" so soon after he's become single. GOD, I HATE DATING! So anyway, my heart is all bruised up again, and it only makes it harder that he is so honest about where he's coming from ('cause an honest guy like that would make such a great boyfriend.) The best thing about this guy, and what I'm sure to miss the most: No, not the sex…. It was all those cute little emails and text messages he sent. Or the prospect of just hanging out together and watching TV (jeez, I sound lame). He was just so sweet and considerate, that it made seeing him so effortless and comfortable. Ok, so the sex was pretty phenomenal too….he was such a FANTASTIC kisser…….Alright, I don't want to think about it anymore -now I'm sad again …. Update: No worries - we ended up staying together for 2 1/2 years, but finally ended it because he just could never grasp the "honesty" concept. Too bad, he had so much potential. After years of dysfuntional back and forth breakups (never again!) I called it quits. He ended up stalking me for a few months, but fortunately he finally got the picture (I hope). In retrospect, I should have dumped this guy within the first few months. Lesson Learned: Always trust your initial instincts – once a liar and a cheater – ALWAYS a liar and a cheater. Eating Crow UPDATE 2: Yeah, yeah, I know....he was a shithead when we were dating....but after all we've been through, after all the old wounds have healed and we've both moved on, I still consider him somewhat of a freind. There's alot to be said for people that really and truly know you....and he's one of the few that does. I hope he learned from our relationship...and I hope he finds happiness with the next one. However, after hearing him talk about the new girls he's dating, and seeing the same old M.O. still in full effect, I doubt he will ever learn. Too bad. But fortunately for me, it's not my heartache anymore....WHEW!

The Bucket List - parts 1&2

It's Christmas, and since the boys were here for a bit my spiritis were noticably lifted. I love those guys so much. It was funny, I was in such a ba-humbug spirit this year - there was no tree, no decorations, no NADA. They were on board with it, since they realize they are old enough now that they're not really into it either. Still, kinda gloomy with no xmas cheer in the house. Anyway, I bought them each one small gift (under $50), but didn't even wrap it up. Before you feel too bad for them - I don't think they have ever bought me a xmas gift, not ever. And since they stopped making gifts in like the 5th grade...I've been giftless (from them) for about 5 years now. It's no surprise, and I've come to expect their greedy selfishness and lack of gratitude. Kids. What are ya gonna do?
So this year, they each got one small gift...and $300 each. But I only gave them the small gift at first...and didn't tell them there was $300 on each of their pillows in their bedroom. So, I give them each the small gift...Doug some headphones, Daryl a docking station for PSP...and they are completely content with them! They didn't ask "is that it?" or anything!! In fact, it was about an hour after they got here that I had to FORCE them to go up to their room and "make their beds." Of course they were thrilled to get the money....but the nice part is...they were just as thrilled without it. Perhaps I should have kept the $600 for myself. LOL. Anyway, I'm happy they can buy whatever they really want now...I think it will be an XBox and a new IPOD for Doug. Their Dad just got them clothes...and while they like clothes...that's not a cool gadgety gift....so I'm happy to have provided the means for their "gadgety" xmas wish.
After a while, I took them to the movies to see "The Bucket List." Too bad, I could have wrote the script for this damn movie - seeing as I wrote my own bucket list back in 1996. I got the suggestion from some article in Cosmo magazine....write down the 50 things you want to do before you die. Well, I'll be damned if I don't still have the list from 11 years ago. It's kind of funny now, the things on my list. But they were written from the perspective of a completely broke single mother of two babies, who was a new cop struggling with the sudden realities of real life. I remember back then not having enough money to pay the phone bill, let alone take a vacation with my kids. I think I was making about $2500 a month (after taxes), paying $800 a month in childcare, $1200 a month in rent, and then food, a car payment, and electricity pretty much tapped me out. It sucked being so poor....but it taught me alot in retrospect. Anyway...here's my old bucket list. I've managed to do about half of them so far...(the ones in bold)....and the rest, well I'll check it again in another 10 years...and see where I'm at.
1. Go to Ireland
2. Have another child
3. Become a Foster parent
4. Join the "Big Sisters" organization
5. Volunteer at a homeless shelter with the kids (done it only w/o the kids so far...gotta get them to go!)
6. Earn my Degree (hopefully done in 09)
7. Become politically aware on U.S. & Foreign policy
8. Take Boxing lessons9. Coach my sons sports team
10. Pay off all my Nana's bills
11. Take the boys and my nephews to Disneyworld (probly too late for that)
12. Go on vacation to the Grand Canyon
13. Go to a Carribean Island (without the kids)
14. Earn the respect of my peers as both a woman and an officer (I doubt I'll ever be able to measure this...but it would be nice)
15. Find out what it's like to really be in love
16. Take a train cross-country
17. Visit Africa
18. Do something to help end racism (hmm...does having non-racist mixed kids help? I'm gonna say yes.)
19. Own my own horse (this was before I realized I'm allergic to horses..lol)
20. Walk on a beach at sunset with the guy from 1521. See my boys get married
22. Take philosophy classes
23. Write a book
24. Get married (funny how far down the list this was...lol)
25. Help someone when no one else would
26. Own my own home
27. Throw a huge party for all my friends (this will probly be my funeral!)
28. Have an orgasm (AHAHAHAHA - that's a funny one.)
29. See my kids graduate from college
30. Hold my grandchildren
31. Have a portrait of me and the boys painted
32. Go to a spa
33. Own a beautiful silk robe
34. Spend a romantic weekend in the mountains
35. Forgive people for their shortcomings and misdeeds (I try everday)
36. Write my memoirs from life within LAPD (that was a real eye-opener)
37. Get a boob job (AHAHAHAHA - another good one)
38. Make a will
39. Take up running
40. Become more spiritual
41. Read the Bible
42. Teach my boys how to play basketball43. Take the boys to a Chicago Bulls game (they used to LOVE Jordan)
44. Take the boys to a museum of art & history
45. Take up Aerobics (Tae-Bo)
46. Take my boys and nephew to a circus
47. Learn to speak fluent Spanish
48. Teach my boys (and learn myself) about Kwanza
49. Find peace within myself
50. Go on a shopping spree!
Starting on a new "Bucket list".....little by little I'll add to it when I think of something worthwhile.
1. Get serious about working out and get my ass in shape
2. Do the yoga thing...seriously
3. Visit New England in the Fall
4. Take the boys to China
5. Take the boys on a cruise to Alaska
6. Hike the Grand Canyon
7. Make amends with my family
8. Organize all my photos and writings into one comprehensive computer file
9. See father Salazar arrested and convicted...or dead.
10. Visit Washington DC, see police memorial & other monuments
c. December 25, 2007

I must be some kind of "brainwashed by the media" hopeless romantic I think. Because it seems that my entire life I've been taught by movies, videos, books, and television - that men actually CAN be romantic. That they DO stare longingly at women and say wonderful sweet things that fill your heart with love and happiness. I've always believed that those guys are out there - somewhere. I just have never been lucky enough to end up with one. Unfortunately, I have dated a few men like that - it didn't work out for different reasons - but at the very least they helped to further instill that belief in me that those types of mushy, sentimental, romantic men DID exist. If only to be marred by other flaws that made them unsuitable for long term relationships.

But here I am now...dating someone new. Someone that I love - and who I love for what I think is all the right reasons - yet he is so absent any romantic gestures that at times it's like he's a robot. Not ALL the time of course, but he is so structured, and rigid, and practical - and nothing at all like me. I'm trying to reconcile my hopeless belief in romance and passion - with the fact that maybe it's all a farce after all. Maybe men aren't like that - and all this time I've been waiting for something or someone that doesn't even exist.

I don't know anymore. And the realization that love may not be at all what I thought it was - breaks my heart.

Hush.

I wrote this many years ago, as I did most of my poems and journals. Hard to find the words these days, to write anything that I haven't already expressed. I've had more than my share of heartaches; courtesy of death, love, abandonment, guilt, never feeling quite good enough for whoever I was trying to impress. That these days, most of my thoughts swim in circles, already having been given a voice by writings of my past. I feel mute at times, as though anything more I could say would be utterly redundant and interpreted as stupid. Oddly enough, this one poem captures for me the very essence of me...and how I love. It is the only writing which I've always hesitated to share with anyone, even friends. Because it lays bare the woman that I see when I look in the mirror ~ no restraint, no pride, no....nothing....save raw emotion, and a heart that loves so completely and without concern for itself that it leads me to ruin over and over again.


I share it now, only because I realize now that it may not mean as much as I always thought it did. Love....it comes and goes....fleeting, and transient. And never proving worth the tears and soul that I always pour into it.

My heart bleeds emotion....and yet, it seems all for not.





Hush now,

Speak not of things which are better left unsaid
things which are only understood when spoken in the darkness
when the silence falls around us, and my breath is the only sound on your ears
whisper then, for I will understand the words
Hopeless and empty though they may seem should you speak them in the daylight
yet in the stillness and the blackness of the night -
Your words feel to me like a million gentle kisses
filling my heart and daring me to dream...
Oh, but I would stay asleep forever if only I could dream this dream of you

Hush now,
For sometimes there are no words worth saying.
If I could find the words that would tell,
that would describe all that I felt -
I would write them down and call myself a poet...
But there are none beautiful or meaningful enough
My words would fall empty
and never come close to telling of my heart, and how it fills with emotions when I look at you.

No, hush now...
For your arms around me, your hand on my cheek,
and your face pressed against my hair -
says more than you could ever say with words alone...
Hold me closely
so that I may feel the beating of your heart
...and imagine that it beats only for me
That no one else would ever know this closeness with you -
and that should you hold another,
your heart would not beat so loudly as it does when I am in your arms...

Hold me to you -
for in this moment I am all that I would ever want to be -
and though I can not find the words,
when I look at you – in the darkness
in the silence of our breath and the stillness of the night
words would not be needed...
For you have only to look at me
and you will know my heart.

Verses of my life...part 1.

It takes but one broken heart to turn a lovers futile words into poetry. I myself, have endured more than one heartbreak, though that makes me no more or better a poet than the next foolish romantic. To have a heart so willing and able to love....and so absent the love of another....has to be the heaviest cross I have bared throughout my entire life. I wonder is it better to feel nothing at all?

______________________

Take me with you
to that place you go
Where no one visits
and few have known
A place of secrets
and chosen cares
A world inside you
that no one shares
Your heart so guarded
like a fortress it seems
You let no one get closer
give no one the key
I see what awaits me
and like a fool I still try
This solitary man
does no wrong in my eyes
I long for his tough
to glimpse what lies inside
I fight indecision
I swallow my pride
Yet all that I do
and all that I say
Means nothing to him
for he's happy this way

But still my heart aches
for this man that can't give
Who refuses to love
yet still thinks he lives
I wish he would take me
to that place that he hides
Wish I was special enough
that he would let me inside
But the truth is unkind
and things aren't what they seem
Reality strikes -
and destroys all my dreams
For the passion I felt
and the heart that I shared
Was given all to a man
who in turn, never cared...

Space

I'm giving him "space" - whatever that is....

So he won't feel the pressure of my need
the urgency of my want
won't have to check in -
or leave me with his itinerary -
No, I'm giving him "space"
so he can come and go as he pleases
walking in and out of my life
as randomly as he wants
here one day - gone the next
leaving his impression, his scent, his feel...
hanging on me

I can not shed his presence
in his absence he remains
- consuming my thoughts
- this flame still burning
and yet, I give him "space"
..to simplify the means
take it slow, options opens
...to control the game

All the while I spend wondering
where are and what he could be doing -
while I replay our moments...
over and over, in my mind

longing for his call,
a sign
anything to say I've finally crossed his mind...
waiting, without patience
as I afford too much
sitting lonely in my room
with nothing but thoughts of him...
and the memories of his touch
...that grip my heart
and stir my spirit -
there is no escape from him
everywhere I turn
- he is in my space.

Crazy Gypsy

I think I’ve written this blog before. Or at least a version of it. Back in 2007 it was titled, “Haters, Naysayers and Malcontents.” The big difference these days is that I seem to have eliminated most of those types of people from my life, which I’m thankful for. Toxic people and especially passive-aggressive and overly judgmental people are the worst. Mind you, I’m not such a hypocrite that I don’t realize I judge people as well, however I somehow think it’s better to judge LOUDLY and openly, rather than keep that shit to yourself and let it fester or even worse – leave people not knowing how you feel about something. I’m pretty content with people knowing how I feel – whether they like it or not. I’ll take a heavy dose of hurtful truths over comfortable lies and hidden contempt any day.

So where am I today and what exactly is my truth? Well…there begins (or rather continues) the story of this “life less ordinary.” Funny, my cousin Jennifer’s boyfriend (who I’ve only met on one other occasion) said to me today, “oh yeah, we’ve met, you’re the crazy one” while we were visiting my Grandma Anne in the hospital. YES. I’m the crazy one. Marginally crazy. Safe-around-children crazy. Sometimes situationally crazy, or maybe just silly crazy or fun crazy or not afraid what anyone thinks of me crazy. Legally speaking, 33% crazy if we’re being technical and going off the Workers Comp report….but also 100% crazy fucking awesome. And you can take THAT to the bank. I’ve learned to embrace the term “crazy” because at this point in my life – I’ve been described as crazy more times than I can count. Usually by judgey people whose lives I would never want to trade places with. So what if I bought a tiny house on wheels and plan to travel the country with my 2 cats for a year? Sounds pretty rad to me….and to most people who aren’t so terrified of the unexpected and the out of the ordinary that they stay tied to their predictable, routine, and all too often regrettable lives. Stuck on the hamster wheel of life…and not going anywhere. I will never be that person. And today, I’m deeply thankful for that.

I used to want to be married and settled down so badly. I tried and tried and tried to make it work with my ex’s. Thinking that if I did everything I was supposed to do, loved them, accepted them, tolerated them, spoiled them, settled for less than what I deserve because it was for the “good of the cause” – it would be enough. It was never enough. For many years I believed I WAS NEVER ENOUGH for them. However, after 3 engagements with no marriages, countless romances that didn’t work out and multiple broken hearts – I finally understand that it wasn’t because I wasn’t enough for them – it was more that what they offered was never enough for me. And once again I’m reminded of a past blog, “The Butterfly Effect” – you see, I’ve always been this way deep down. There’s something great to be said about consistency. And Shannon Reece is nothing if not consistent. Some may say I’m consistently an asshole, but that’s a shallow and superficial assessment that I know is inaccurate. I’m only an asshole on the surface…. Bahahaha. Underneath I’m a sweetheart of a gal who’d do anything for my friends and gives far more than I ever expect to receive. (Thank my Mother. She’s like Saint Fucking Dawn and hers are big shoes to fill when it comes to selflessness). Holy hell…. I think this whiskey I’m drinking is making me toot my own horn a little too much and even I think I sound like a complete asshole right now. Moving on….

My Tiny House on Wheels (do you all know the term by now? Can I pleeeeease refer to it as a THOW now? Thanks) will be done sometime in May at which time I will fly my Gypsy Wanderlusting ass (lots of lusting lately…but that’s for paragraph 6) up to Oregon and pick it up. I KNOW. I KNOW. I don’t have a truck. But I’ll get one…these are not difficult problems to solve people. I have a credit score of like 710…I’m good. Bahahaha. I may be poor and living on $4k a month, but years of making good money has left me with excellent credit! Thanks Law Enforcement. And I was fortunate enough to have my babies when I was a baby, so they are adults now who are self-supporting. Other than the cats, I don’t have to be responsible for anyone else – how cool is THAT? I don’t have many of these years to enjoy, no one really does. Aren’t we all just one tragic accident, one cancer diagnosis, one parent becoming ill, one unexpected event away from our lives changing to something we have no control over? We are. I know it. I am thankful every single day for the life I have and know full well how quickly it can all change. I have been through those trials before and weathered the storms that life always brings. And I can honestly say I am better for it. I have such a rich appreciation for what each day brings….be it laying in bed all day and doing nothing or spending time with friends or galivanting off to some remote hot spring to tune the world out for a few days and get in touch with myself. I have been blessed and I will never take a moment for granted. (FLASHBACK! One time a nice man I was dating wrote me a letter and misspelled “Granted” as “Granite” and I totally ripped him apart and judged him. What a total dick I am. However, in the interest of reality…he was in his late 40’s and looking to get married and have kids ASAP and I was NOT looking for that….so his sappy love letter was rightfully rejected, and I gave him the boot. Poor spelling and grammar aside, we were not well suited. He then met a nice woman, married her and quickly had two kids. See? I know what’s best for people…even when they don’t.)

OH MY GAWD. I’m looking at Neville the Cat laying next to me right now and I shit you not…he’s the most amazing creature to ever walk the earth (NO, I’m not high). I need to take a picture…but my damn phone is hooked up to my Bose speaker and I’m listening to the BEST playlist. Ever wonder why I don’t answer some of your calls? It’s because when my phone is plugged into my speaker and the tunes are on…. I’m basically in a musical trance and can’t be bothered by calls. Music fills my soul…. like nothing else. OK, maybe like my love for Neville the Cat, or mind-blowing sex, or being in love (they can be mutually exclusive btw)…but lordy lordy I love me some good music. Chris Cornell is currently singing, “I am the Highway” and then hopefully the shuffle feature plays some Michael Kiwanuka who I am currently obsessed with. Look him up my gypsy, soulful brethren…you will thank me.

OK…on to the juicy stuff. Comparable to bikini selfies…. for you pervy voyeurs who are always interested in my “Shannanigins.” So, check THIS craziness out…. does anyone recall when I said that 2018 was going to be the “year of YES”?? (As you Shannonbookers may remember, 2017 was known as the “year of travel”). WELL…. funny thing, I thought the year of yes meant I was going to be saying yes to lots of illicit activities with men that are way too young or otherwise unsuitable for me. Turns out 2018 is about saying yes to what I want…. which is not necessarily getting naked with hot young (or older) men. It’s truly odd and at the same time empowering. #metoo (just kidding! No one harasses this chick without living to rue the day). I’ve had some fun and interesting encounters with men this year. For those who recall that poor guy that got put on blast on Facebook Live for being a huge vajayjay…. hahaha. After that unfortunate incident, I decided I’m not about to settle for such nonsense again. So, “younger and hot” is no longer a search criterion. I have vetted and already dispo’d several guys that I was interested in…. but I don’t feel sad or disappointed. I feel like I’m listening to my inner self….and she is not interested in anyone’s nonsense or excuses or BS at this point. Like I said…life is oh so short. SO…. I’m flying up to Central Cali this weekend to meet up with a guy I’ve never met. He’s a nature freak like me and is into Tiny Houses and that Gypsy life. Now, he COULD be a serial killer, but I don’t think so. And if he was he’d be a ’la Ted Bundy (who was kind of hot right?). I’m not scared. It’s gonna be a blast! Hiking and adventuring with a hot stranger sounds fun. Don’t worry I did the requisite Google searches and have found nothing alarming about his background. And my top 3 assassin girlfriends have his personal info in case I turn up missing. What’s life if you don’t take chances? It could be epic…or it could be just a fun weekend. There’s no way it’s not going to be awesome, of that I’m certain. Carpe Diem my friends, Carpe Diem.

And just like that…. Van Morrison hits the playlist with “Into the Mystic.” Yesssssss. Rock my Gypsy soul….

Depression: (Catchy title eh?)

Happy Veterans Day.

Though I’m guessing many Vets feel just as much angst as they due pride in this holiday. Celebrating Veterans is awesome and makes for great holiday weekends, that is, when they return home from deployments and are here to celebrate with you. Not quite such an uplifting and proud Holiday when your beloved Veterans are resting 6 feet under in Arlington.

This isn’t a blog about RJ or Kaila, but I guess that’s where we start.....

I’ve been in a funk ever since I visited Emily and Kaila in Tennessee a few weeks ago. At first I thought it was because I was sick, then it was the guy I’m dating was being retarded, then I thought it was general sadness at Kailas life since RJ was killed...I guess I still haven’t figured out the catalyst for this current “funk” I’m in. Each thing individually is nothing new, nothing unusual, and yet I feel an overwhelming sadness each day that I can’t pinpoint the cause of. Then it finally dawned on me....

I stopped taking an anti-depressant back in June/July of this year (I tapered off, relax weirdos I know how to go off meds). I’d been on a low dosage (30 mg of Celexa then Cymbalta for you nosy motherfuckers) for about 5 years. I had tried a few different times to stop taking them and crashed HARD. At the time I was still working as a cop so when I crashed I immediately thought, “WTF are you doing you retard? You need MEDS to deal with this shit everyday....” and started back to taking my pill every morning. Well, I figured since I’m retired and my life is all unicorns and rainbows now, I probably could do without that “happy pill” everyday. However now I’m starting to think perhaps this is some weird Reece genetic condition that I’m pre-disposed to - and no amount of road trips, quite time, or good deeds is going to mitigate my needs for medication to control these onslaughts of “the blues.” Which is a HUGE fucking bummer. Because I really don’t like meds.....

So here I am. With a life that I am exceedingly grateful for....wonderful friends, good pension, healthy children, decent looks and health (I’m vain so that shit is important to me...don’t judge)...and yet I can’t shake this feeling of emptiness, loss and sadness. It’s really quite pathetic and without good cause. Yet it remains....a feeling of longing...for something I can’t quite attain. I don’t even really know what it is anymore - which is (to me) even sadder than then predicament itself. WTF am I missing???? I spent 2 hours today rambling along a trail near my house listening to country songs and wondering what the fuck did I even WANT from life? Some days I have an answer to that question but on days like today....it’s a mystery.

Thanksgiving is around the corner and Emily and Kaila will be here so I will be busy, which is good. HOLY HELL, it’s my birthday next week which I’m not even thinking about....47 can eat my ass for all I care. (insert FUCK YOU emoji). But once Em leaves I’ve planned a trip to NorCal to do some solo camping/hiking....because somehow being alone makes me feel sad and content all at the same time. I’m going to try to see my therapist again in December, because she’s wonderful and maybe I’m not as “out of the woods” as I thought I was. I honestly don’t know if my depression is PTSD related or some horrible genetic trait....but I sure am paranoid and think a whole hell of a lot of how I’m going to defend myself (and everyone around me) against threats......so I’m thinking the “hyper-vigilance” is more PTSD related. Ugh.....so many issues to tackle. When does life get easier? Maybe at 48. Fingers crossed.

On a GOOD note...I haven’t seen any dead people or near-dead people in like 2 years....so hey, there’s always THAT. Oh, and then there’s the wonderful byproduct of being unmedicated, in your prime - and horny all the damn time. Thank you Nurse Shelly for making me realize that the reason I’m so flipping horny these days is because I’m OFF antidepressants.....what a fucking TREAT. Ugh. I need a third drink....

Fuck off you Judgy McJudgersons....

and good night.

September 11th.

All day long I’ve thought about this day and what it means to me. This year I’m busy traveling home from Galapagos to Quito to LA...which is probably a good distraction. This day hits me like so many other first responders, HARD and right in the gut and heart. We remember the day in detail, where we were...what we were doing...who we were with....how it could have been US....

That day should have been one of the happiest in my life. I was flying with my then fiance (#2 of #3 for those who are keeping track) William to Miami so I could meet his parents for the first time. They lived in Miami where they had fled from Cuba when William was 9 years old. The plan was to get there, spend a week, and he was going to properly propose to me somewhere romantic - using the ring that we had already designed and bought. It was a replica of my Nana’s wedding set, nothing fancy at all - but it meant the world to me to have something of hers for my wedding ring. We were already living together at the time and got up at 0530 to get my boys ready to drop off at their grandparents for the week. As we got our last minute stuff ready to go and prepared to wake the kids, my Mom called and told me to turn on the news.

I remember sitting in silent horror watching what was happening in New York. The first plane had struck and our eyes were glued to the television for at least 4 hours. All flights had been cancelled, there was to be no flying to Miami - or anywhere else. But within about the first hour, once it started to sink in what was really happening, Miami became a distant detail of the day. Even if we COULD have flown out in the following days, there was no way I would have went. My heart was absolutely shattered. I felt gutted and sick and like hundreds of my brothers and sisters had just died a horrible, graphic death that we all witnessed first hand. All killed doing the one thing that we do everyday.....try to help people. I was inconsolable for the next week. I called work that day to cancel my vacation and ask if they needed people to come in. I was told to stay home and they’d let me know if they needed bodies.....they never did.

I watched the news nonstop for the following days. I cried more than I can even remember. I wanted so badly to BE THERE. To help. To do something....but I was stuck in California with a fiance who never understood why I cried so much, why I hurt so much and why I was broken by events that happened to people I didn’t even know. William wanted to still have a “vacation” - he wanted to go to the LA County Fair and the beach and all kinds of other things that I could not seem to wrap my head around. I didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything that didn’t involve being around my fellow law enforcement officers - because I felt that they were the only ones that really “got it.” I can’t explain it any better than that. For some things, tragedies especially, there is a bond that exists between people whether you know them or not. That was and is the way I felt and still feel - bonded to all the first responders in New York. Both those who were killed and those that are still alive to struggle and grieve and try to make sense of the day that ruined us all in one way or another. I guess the events surrounding that horrible day and the way it played out in my own household were the catalyst for William and I ending our relationship before we ever got married. We broke up 2 months later and he moved out. I just couldn’t imagine spending my life with someone who didn’t FEEL what I felt....and I felt and still feel quite a bit about those Officers and Firefighters who lost their life that day. Every year is the same....emotionally gut wrenching.

I’m fortunate and honored these days to know several NYPD folks and call them friends. Some were working that day, some came on after....but with all of them I feel that bond, that kinship, that I felt on that fateful day. I can’t imagine their heartbreak and their pain, and yet...I can and I do. These days I pray for them, and their peace of mind....and for what horrors are yet to come for them and for all the other first responders. It’s only a matter of time before another tragedy strikes us all. When that day comes I know I’ll be there again, ready to go wherever I can be of use, retired or not. That bond I feel will always be there for my brothers and sisters in law enforcement.....and for that, I am truly blessed.

For those who were lost.....and those who will eventually fall....until we meet again my friends, keep the gates of Heaven safe and Stay Frosty....

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

Wandering: Sometimes you CAN go to far

So here I am in the Galapagos Islands, with little to no cell or internet service, a comeback case of Montezuma’s Revenge and an afternoon to myself. I opted out of the guided tour to the “highlands” to see tortoises “in the wild” – because quite frankly, I’ve seen a shit ton of tortoises here already and I don’t suppose that seeing them “in the wild” is going to exactly entail anything new and exciting about the species. Unless of course in the wild they have tiny monkeys riding on their backs while they perform jousting matches, now THAT is something I’d travel to the “highlands” to see.

I’ve got my fill of blue footed boobys, reef sharks, manta rays, giant sea turtles, all manner of colorful fish, tortoises, cormorants, wild dogs and marine iguanas on this trip. What I want now are plain old, every day run of the mill domestic cats. My own preferably. Yes, I miss Neville and Christian Grey…and I’m pretty sure everyone is tired of hearing me squeal with joy and yell ‘KITTY!!” every time I see a cat here. 3 more days….

What I’ve learned about this latest trip is this: It IS possible to stray too far from home. I like to fancy myself a gypsy of sorts, traveling about to various far off destinations – but this time I’ve realized there are places I don’t need to go. Places where English isn’t a primary or even secondary language top that list. It’s unsettling to be somewhere where you don’t speak the language – and no one else speaks yours. Communication is so important – and when you find yourself unable to communicate, you realize very quickly how much of a disadvantage you are at. Don’t even get me started on the driving conditions of other countries…. let’s just say the transportation infrastructure leaves much to be desired in Ecuador. What I wouldn’t give for some good old-fashioned California traffic – or even better – the long, winding, endless roads of the Scottish Highlands. Now THERE is a country that was pleasant to wander through. Take me back to those Highlands any day of the week…. wild tortoises need not be present.

This is the second country where I’ve gotten violently ill from some form of food or water issue. Thailand being the first. It should be noted that both Thailand and Ecuador have pretty unsanitary restroom and water conditions, hence the likelihood of contracting something nasty if you aren’t careful (which clearly, I was not). And while both Thailand and Ecuador are fascinating countries that I’m grateful to have visited, I doubt I’ll ever visit either one of them again. Nor will I be undertaking anymore “adventurous” trips in the near future to other countries that lack the basic requirements I need to have a good time: English speakers, WIFI, hot tubs, bath tubs, hot water, warm weather, good food and at least a decent selection of adult beverages. I don’t require much, truly. Even when I go camping and am off the grid – I’m sure to bring whatever I need to ensure I’m going to have a good time. Cold showers, crappy cocktails and no ability to communicate with the outside world make for a not so great adventure. I DO have my limits when it comes to “roughing it.”

Now, back to the lessons I’ve learned on this trip;

It would seem that I am in fact happier alone than amongst other people. This became very clear to me on this trip when all manner of insignificant details became almost unbearable to me. Loud music, crowds, people talking, people laughing, being NEAR or around other people…. honestly, it was just too much. I’m so much happier and less stressed keeping to myself, listening to my headphones and just basically being left to the thoughts in my own head. I find myself longing for the solo drive to Tennessee in a few weeks…nothing but quiet solitude for 2,500 miles. I’ll be in heaven.

I guess travelling the country in a tiny house on wheels with my 2 cats would seem to be the ideal future for me, eh? Hahahaha…. what a kook I’ve become. I told Donna I should change my dating profile to say, “no talking required” – since it’s inevitably whenever a guy starts talking that it ruins any chance I might be interested. For god sake, just SHUT UP and retain some mystery. If I wanted a chatterbox I’d hang out with my girlfriends. Wait…where was I? Oh yes, back to the dilemma of wandering too far....

I’ve got one more full day tomorrow here in Galapagos, then another night in Quito before I fly home. We are going to hike to some turtle bay here tomorrow and kayak/swim with the turtles. I love that. You know why? BECAUSE IT’S FUCKING QUIET DOWN THERE UNDER THE SEA. Turtles don’t talk. And they never do anything annoying. They just swim around all graceful like - with me swimming next to them, wishing I was Ariel from the little mermaid – and wondering why in the fuck she ever wanted to be “part of this world.” In fact, I just became keenly aware of the barking dogs and sound of construction that have been going on outside this hotel for at least the past 30 minutes. UGH. It really is very LOUD here. Once we leave Galapagos in a few days and fly back to Quito, I’ll have a full night at the Wyndham Hotel near the airport. Hopefully I’ll finally have some decent WIFI and can upload these jillion photos to my Facebook page as well as answer a shit ton of emails and send off a few resumes. Much to do…much to do….

I guess I’ll sign out now – though I realize I sound horribly ungrateful and bitchy. I’m very lucky to have visited this place, it’s definitely worth seeing. If anyone plans on coming here someday I’ve got some do’s and don’ts to fill you in on. Just ask me. Now I think I’ll watch some more downloaded Netflix – or maybe I’ll get lucky and can stream some “Outlander” episodes.

Tiny House Dreams

I was going to just write a status update, but I’m sitting here with a big cup of coffee looking out the kitchen window in Bend, Oregon and I’m feeling like this might get a bit wordy for a mere status update. So here goes...

Why a tiny house on wheels you ask? Why not just a camper, or an RV or a teardrop camper...or something cheaper and easier to navigate across the continental US? Well here’s why:

I like going on RV camping trips just as much as the next outdoorsy chick, but this is going to be my HOME. Not just my home, but my cats home! Yes, they are going with me - whether they like it or not. So I want something the feels like a home. Not a dressed up RV. I want wood flooring and wood beam ceilings, and a soaking tub (maybe), and a compost toilet, and probably some solar panels, and propane tanks, and a big generator, and all kinds of other stuff that will allow me to pull over in any Walmart parking lot across the country and chill out for a few days if I need to. The plan is to see the country - at least all the places that I’ve always wanted to see. I can probably skip Iowa. But everything else peaks my interest!

I’ve got friends and family in various states across the country, so when I’m visiting those places I’ll stay for a month or so. If not on their property, then in an RV park nearby. Which leads me to another reason I don’t want an RV...when I’m staying somewhere for extended periods of time, I’ll be able to unhitch my THOW (that’s short for Tiny House On Wheels for you newbies) and use my truck to get around town and do some sightseeing. Now I know, I don’t actually HAVE a truck at this point, but I’ll get one right after I decide on a tiny house! I’m looking at various options right now, both used and new, but this is a BIG decision and one I don’t want to make hastily. My goal is to have my THOW by April/May of 2018...which is when the real adventure begins! Once my 18 month - 2 year tour across America is over, I will have undoubtedly decided on a place to settle down (most likely the Volunteer state!). At that point I will buy a regular house on an acre (or 5) and my THOW will be turned into a cozy little AIR BNB. See? I’m thinking long term financial solvency people! I can totally rent it out, raise chickens and rabbits (for eggs and meat), grow my organic vegetables and make the full blown transition into hippy-chick survivalist!

I’ve decided to sell off my furniture and put the rest of my belongings in storage so that I can vacate my beautiful Huntington Beach condo rental by January 1st. (YIKES! Kinda scary). As most of you know I sold my Anaheim condo last October, which incidentally is how I was able to take all these awesome trips in 2017! Fortunately all my trips were pre-paid, because as of right now I haven’t seen a paycheck in 6 weeks and am still at least another 6 weeks out from seeing my first retirement check. Thank GOD I have simple tastes and like Top Ramen. It’s like 1994 with two kids as a single mom all over again! Ok, so I have a months worth of paychecks in bad ass knives, but a girl’s got to have SOME vices, right? (Half Face Blades are my weakness).

I’ve already spoken to my folks in Arizona who are happy to have me there for a month or longer come January. Of course I’ll also be with Emily Cottle in Tennessee for a while, and most likely Ron Rayburn in Kentucky for another stretch. Then there’s Vittoria Ferrari in Madeira Beach, Florida - who hopefully will let me wait tables for free (I keep my tips!) at the Sweet Brewnette for a few weeks or so. Oh wait, then there’s Kate Favara and her family in Montana - and Lord knows I’m dying to hang out in Big Sky Country and do some fishing and hunting. So it shouldn’t be much of a problem be-bopping around for 3-4 months while I wait for my THOW to be built or purchased. Once I get my THOW I will leave my Honda Accord in Tennessee with Emily Cottle (I can Uber there in Nashville when I’m visiting) and hit the wide open road. I’ll probably make a YouTube channel or become some other self-promoting type of Vlogger. I mean, OF COURSE I will - right?!?!

It’s going to be an EPIC adventure.

(I just need to convince Neville and Christian Grey)

Getting Lost...

On days like today, when I've finally managed to slow down for more than 24 hours and quiet my brain, I wonder if the fast pace isn't what's saving me from myself and the thoughts that usually run through my mind. It's a scary thing, not feeling quite "right" these days. I don't feel like myself....whichever self I used to be. That party girl, crazy Shannon, isn't exactly accurate. I know, and those that are close to me know that persona is mostly surface stuff. Part of my ENFP makeup. But over the past 8 months the lack of routine and stability in my life has left me spinning like a top with no direction and very little to keep me grounded. I long for those days when going to work was fun, when vacations came only every 3-4 months and when I had something to do and somewhere to be on a daily basis. Now I mostly feel like I'm just running....constantly. From one place to the next, trying to put distance between myself and that life I used to know.

I used to feel like I helped people, everyday. No matter how insignificant my contacts at work were....I almost always came away feeling useful and validated. Now I don't know why i'm here or what I'm supposed to be doing....other than indulge myself on whatever whim or adventure strikes me. I'm hopeful that moving to Tennessee and staying with Emily and Kaila for a while will help ground me and remind me of who I used to be. Part of a family... Frankly, I'm too old for most of this shit. It's exhausting...and only fun 85% of the time. I'd trade in the feeling of "fun" for a feeling of satisfaction any day of the week. And I don't know that I've felt satisfied with anything in a very long, long time.

So I will take the rest of 2017 off to "find myself" and figure out what the next chapter in my life will be. At this point I have no idea. I have several options available to me given my skill set, but keep waiting for one to feel right and not just convenient. I want to feel passionately about whatever it is I'm doing...be it raising a family, being a police officer or being in a relationship. Who knows, maybe I WILL go to school and get a contractors license and start building tiny houses. Crazier things have happened. Someone mentioned doing private security and threat assessment for high end targets, but I couldn't tolerate working for some assclown - no matter how much money they paid me. I'd rather live in a small house on 10 acres in the hills of Tennessee on a medical pension and be able to tell assholes to go fuck themselves if need be. Now that I think of it, President Trump should totally hire me as part of his Social Media Team!! Hahahaha. I like his style. Rough around the edges....but I think he gets a bad rap. Kinda like yours truly.

Alright, I'm snowed in in Bryce Canyon Utah (ask me again WHY I thought a solo 3 week Winter Wonderland road trip in a Honda Civic across 5 states would be a god idea?) - so I think I'm going to throw on a jog bra and the most conservative pair of black undies I brought and hit the indoor jacuzzi. For the first time in the past 20 years there are NOT at least 3 bikinis in my go bag. I'm pretty sure I'm one of only 3 people staying in this huge resort this weekend, because you'd have to be half crazy to vacation up here during the off season. For the record, I'm only 5% crazy according to the QME.....hahaha. Only my CALI LEOS will get that reference. So off I go, to sit in the jacuzzi, then eat at the hotel diner, then back to my room to watch Netflix and hopefully sleep. I head out tomorrow on what will surely be more treacherous road conditions, flying by the seat of my pants as per usual. But hey, they are pretty cool Fjallraven pants, so there's that.

Great, I come to the computer room adjacent to the jacuzzi and see there are like 10 people in there! Back to the room I go...a hot bath will have to do.

Purging

Where do I begin. The beginning would seem like a natural place to start, but that spans so many years back I would be writing for weeks…if not years. So many snippets of a life that had led to me to this place, where I seem only vaguely familiar to myself. I will start then at what seemed to be the turning point in my 22 year career as Police Officer, June 21,2002. A jumper on the Colorado Street Bridge in Pasadena Ca. Matthew Ackerman, 22 years old, good looking, silent, and unwilling to tell me what had forced him to climb over the rails and on to the exterior of the bridge. I spoke to him for 45 minutes or so until the “crisis negotiators” got there and relieved me. Relieved me to stand silently by, watching their efforts fail as they talked to him of his church and religion….which I knew in my heart was perhaps the reason he was here to end his life. He leaned forward and let go…and the 5-7 seconds that it took until I heard the dull thud of his body hit the pavement below, felt like it was suspended in eternity.

He made me promise to give his shoes to his brother, which I did. I attended his services and spoke, or rather tried to speak to his eldest brother in my patrol car. Assuring him that Matts 4 brothers were his last final loving thoughts. It’s engrained in my memory as though it was yesterday….and that was not nearly the first time I’d watched someone die. It was simply the most helpless I’d ever felt in my entire life. And responsible. If only I’d confided in him more, got him to open up, got him to understand that darkness touches most of us at one time or another….the overcoming it is the true trick to remaining here…with the living.

There were more jumpers, more close calls, more lives nearly lost then saved….but even more lives lost than saved over the next few years. So I took a break from patrol, in my 11th year as a Police officer I was assigned to Detective Bureau. To the Internet Crimes Against Children Task Force. Investigating primarily the production and distribution of child pornography, along with other crimes against children that occurred in my city. Which were almost exclusively child molestations and child abuse. I spent 3 1/2 years there. 3 1/2 years looking at thousands and thousands of images and videos of children being raped and victimized, writing search warrants, trying to identify and locate victimized children and their victimizers. I had some great successes and sent several monsters to prison for life terms. Several more convicted and mandated to register as sex offenders, so my job was satisfying…..or so you would think. But for every arrest, every identified child molester or child victim, there were hundreds more that remained nameless. The things I have seen in those videos, one can not describe….nor would I ever attempt to. Ignorance is bliss….and it’s best not to know what can only haunt you in your nightmares.

So I eventually left ICAC, at my request, and went back to the simple and satisfying job of patrol in 2010. It was fun again…no more pending cases….no more child pornography or children I couldn't help…just patrolling and responding as needed to emergencies and calls for service. All the while having too much fun with my coworkers playing pranks on each other and meeting for coffee or C-7. Then the suicides and fatalities started coming in increasing numbers again, only this time, they were younger adults and children.

The Daily Do-Gooder

Today has been an interesting and enlightening day, which I've decided to share with everyone. Not because I want to toot my own proverbial horn, or call attention to myself, but rather because I'm hoping to inspire some "paying it forward" do-gooder deads amongst my friends. Now, I know that I have MANY friends that already contribute to society, friend, family and neighbors on a regular basis. Donna, Kate, Vicki, Amy, and probably many more that I'm not even aware of. Because you see, it is the humility of most do-gooders that they never talk about what they've done for others. They don't seel accolades or pats on the back, they do good deeds merely because they are the RIGHT thing to do. I have only my wonderful parents to thank for instilling that virtue in me. My folks are awesome, amazing, giving and humble people. Me? Well, not so humble....but I like to think the rest applies. At any rate...here is how the day went;

I moved to my condo in January of this year. There is a nighbor next to me who has been in a nursing home ever since I moved in. His name is Frank, and I've never met him. His house has been vacant and he has an adult son who comes by every now and again, but I've never met him either. I pass by Franks patio every now and then (my kitty Lucky used to like to sit on his patio wall and bask in the sun) and it always makes me sad that his patio is overgrown and in a state of decay. So today I got his son Tim's phone number and sent him a series of (what he probably thought were odd) messages asking him if I could clean his fathers patio for him. Truth be told, my initial interest in the cleanup was partly selfish. I love gardening and cleaning up old spaces - and I was looking for a new project. Once I had asssured Tim I was not a crazy person - and didn't expect any compensation, he gave me the go ahead. So I started in on Franks old, abandoned and overgrown patio.

I was maybe 30 minutes into the cleanup when I started uncovering the carefully terraced planters, and the many pots and plants that were dying underneath. It struck me that at one time Frank must have put quite a deal of care and time into his patio garden, and it saddened me that it had fallen into such a bad state. I remember my own Grandmothers house and gardens, when she got too ill and old to care for them - and how my brother and I tried to clean it up for her. I thought of Emily's Mamaws garden in Kentucky and how beautiful it must have been when she tended it daily - only to fall into disrepair after she passed away. Time and neglect erasing all the beauty that once gave so much joy to our friends and relatives. And so the clean up of Franks patio became more of a tribute to him, and much less of a hobby for me. I hoped that one day Frank comes home from the nursing home - if nothing more than to see his lovely patio and sit outside in the sun. But if that never happens than at least I've helped my neighbor and that fills me with a sense of warmth and accomplishment.

I'm now thinking of ways to do more of these types of things. Maybe organize a "community cleanup" with some of my friends or police officers I know. Surely there are other elderly or disabled people that need help with their yards and such? Most people don't like to ask for help, I know. But maybe friends or family members can "suggest" or "nominate" someone in need. I've got this idea in my head and everyone knows once I get one of my bright ideas I'm not soon to give up on it! Wish me luck....and help me "pay it forward!"

How NOT to treat your people: A lesson in Police Supervision.

I alluded to something being wrong at work that coincided with the tragic death of my sweet Lucky yesterday. Well, here it is - pretty much the whole story. Rather than repeat it, I will attach the email that I just sent to my departments Command Staff. I have been disappointed by law enforcement supervision many times over the years....but nothing that stings quite as badly as this recent slight.

Staff -

I feel compelled to write this, to engage each of you in what I hope to be an enlightening albeit unfortunate conversation. Please do not mistake my candor for disrespect, but take it to heart and understand that this is a very difficult email for me to write.

I have worked at PPD for 15 years now. I have 10 years left to go until retirement, and I still love this career as much as the day I started. What I do not love is the unnecessary drama and turmoil that is so prevalent at PPD. The ego's, the micromanaging, the inability to treat each other well and with genuine compassion for one another. It is no surprise to anyone who works there that over 20 people are in backgrounds with other agencies. That fact alone speaks volumes. Over the past few months we have all witnessed coworkers behaving in ways that are less than stellar. The gossiping, the infighting, the breakdown in morale, the letters to the Star News, the scandals, the IA's, it goes on and on. I have watched all of this with great sadness - sad because I know we can do better. That we should do better. And yet, the downward spiral in morale and how we treat one another has continued. I come to work happy every day. Happy to have a job I love, happy to make a difference in peoples lives, happy to be alive, and proud of my profession and those I share it with. I dedicate countless of my own hours towards furthering programs at PPD, and I do so not because I want recognition or a pat on the back - but because I care about our department and being effective in how we do policing.

As some of you may know, there was a sudden and tragic death in my family yesterday while I was at work. It was not one of my children, but rather - my beloved pet cat. I make the distinction between my children and my cat for your sake....not for mine. My pet was very much part of my family and like one of my children. For those of you who have lost a beloved pet, perhaps you will understand the analogy and my grief.

In my rush to leave work to collect his remains, I left an arrest report that had not been signed off yet. The report had already been read by Detectives the previous night and was used to obtain a search warrant. So I knew that any corrections that needed to be made would be minor. Once I had transported my cat from my home to the pet cemetery - I sent my Sgt. an email giving him my login information and requesting him to make any necessary corrections to the report. It is not uncommon for other Officers and Supervisors to make corrections to someones report when they are minor typos - it happens frequently. So I was surprised when the Sgt. called me and told me he was going to email me the report so I could make the corrections myself. I was still crying when he called, and clearly upset. I agreed to make the corrections and send them back to him before his EOW. Unfortunately I was unable to make corrections from my iPad and have no computer at home. This, coupled with my immense grief and hysteria over my cat being gutted and eaten by a coyote - forced me to have a rather large cocktail and cry myself to sleep at 5:00. I awoke at 11:00 pm to numerous missed calls, voice mails, texts and emails from this Sgt. asking for my corrected report.

I immediately contacted another Officer and asked them to please log in to my manny files and make the required corrections. The corrections were purely grammatical and a matter of style - rather than content based, and certainly not indicative of anything that would hinder the prosecution of this case. The other Officer agreed to help with the corrections, and that was the end. That is, until I made the mistake of answering a call from the Sgt. - who clearly didn't give a damn that I was at home upset and grieving the loss of a family member. I believe his exact words were, "It's just a cat- right?" He then went on to tell me he should have just "ordered me back to work - like everyone told him to do," at which point I told him exactly what I thought of him in two words or less....and hung up the phone. Still believing that the report had already been corrected, so there was no need to deal with his disgusting level of callousness.

A midnight phone call from Commander Moody and another hysterical conversation later, and now 2 graveyard Officers are being sent to my house with a department laptop so that I can make the corrections MYSELF. While I commend Commander Moody's ability to calmly talk to a hysterical person - I am beyond disappointed that she hadn't even bothered to read the report and corrections in question. I'm not sure the Lt. in charge had either, instead they relied solely on the Sgt's ridiculous and baseless assertion that this case wasn't going to get filed unless these corrections were made. Perhaps I'm the only one who realizes this was more a case of some Sgt's ego getting hurt when I didn't do exactly what he said....rather than the picture that is being painted of me as some irresponsible insubordinate Officer who wantonly jeopardized a critical investigation. The notion that I would ever allow a child molester to go free because of an oversight on my part is both insulting and offensive. I worked juvenile sex crimes for nearly 4 years and am well aware of what is needed to file a case. My report was well written and complete and would stand up in court without any issues. The arrest report aside, the reason I left to go home and was unavailable, was because of the sudden and tragic loss of a family member. What id it HAD been one of my children who was killed? Ir what if I was incapacitated due to an accident or injury? Would you have taken the same course of action then? I doubt it. At least I hope not.

So an A-car was taken out of service and sent to my house at 0230 hrs., so I could make some minor style and grammatical corrections to an otherwise complete report. It took about 5 minutes to do, yet the toll on my emotions will last indefinitely. That no one in the Chain of Command thought to question the course of action that was taken leaves me feeling completely disenchanted, hurt and disappointed in everyone involved. I reached out to several people today, and have heard nothing back. Which again, is hurtful and disappointing. Things can always be done better, but when it comes to blatantly being cruel and the callous disregard for ones feelings - that is where I draw the line.

I have always imagined PPD as my home, and looked forward to the next 10 years there. But I can not stomach this brand of "Supervision" in a job that is difficult enough as it is. I feel that the time has come for me to move on to an employer who values my skills and my dedication to the job, and who treats their people with dignity, respect and compassion. I do not know where I will be going, but I will be actively looking elsewhere for employment beginning today. I hope that you all think about this incident and learn from it. Surely there are better ways to treat people....you just need to be willing to do it.

Sincerely,

Shannon Reece