Change!

At the rental counter at work, we have an appointment book that we keep all of the rental reservations in. We write down names, phone numbers, equipment, times, etc., and when someone picks up the equipment or calls to cancel, we highlight the reservation. It's also a handy place to write notes and doodles and it tends to get torn, dirty, and kind of greasy. Suffice it to say, it's pretty heavily used and by the end of every year it looks pretty rough.

As you've probably noticed, we're just about at the end of 2014! So close to the new year, in fact, that today we finally switched out our old appointment book for a new one. Business has been kind of slow lately and today as I was up at the front counter by myself, I looked down into our trash can and spied the old book. On an impulse, I leaned over and fished it out of the can. I used my hand to brush some dirt off the front cover and let it fall open to the middle of April. It was full! It felt funny to be in the dead of winter looking back at the busy spring. I flipped through the pages, meandering through the year. Even though we do hundreds and hundreds of rentals each year, I could still remember some of the specific rentals written down in the book! Looking more closely, I noticed that earlier in the year we had reservations for one or two people that aren't even alive anymore. It's kind of crazy how much can change in such a short amount of time.

Logically, there was absolutely no reason to keep the book. We no longer need the information it holds! But a nostalgic part of me objected- to see a whole year summarized in one simple log! Names and dates and memories. So when it was time to go home, I saved the book from the trash and tucked it away with my ACE apron, in the crook of my arm. And it got me thinking about change!

With every new year comes some change, but this year is especially full of transitions for me. I'd say the number one change is that my sister is moving to Albuquerque, to go to school. She has already begun packing and moving into her new apartment, and soon I will be leaving the house I have been living in to live in her old house. But the biggest change is yet to come- learning to live with her so far away! She is my best friend and I'm going to miss her terribly! But we can always text and email and visit each other often. I really am so proud of her for going after what she wants. It is a hard, brave thing to pick up and move and start something completely new! But she has always been brave and strong. She will do great!

Another change I've experienced lately is somewhat subtler, but still hard. About a week ago my Grandma had to put down her dog, Earl. He was old and sick and in pain, and it was time. But it was still so hard, on my Grandma especially, but on the rest of the family too. In our minds, Earl has always been strongly linked to my Grandpa, and to lose Earl was kind of like losing one last living part of him.

There's something I've been wanting to talk about in a blog for a while, but I tend to beat around the bush. It might bother or anger some people, but this is my blog, dammit! Haha! Here goes: I don't believe in God. I don't know exactly when I realized it... I used to go to church and Sunday School sometimes. And when I became so horribly depressed I remember hating the idea of God, because why on earth would he do something so awful to me, when I had done nothing wrong? I guess I realized I didn't believe in him when all that anger drained away and I realized it wasn't because I "forgave" him, but because I don't believe he is out there at all. Some people seem to find solace and comfort in the idea that "God" is out there, watching them, controlling every aspect of their lives. Personally, I find MUCH more comfort in the idea that it's up to me! I do what I do because I want to, I CHOOSE to, and when awful things out of my control happen to me, I control how to react. When I need help, I ask for it! Not from God, but from my family and medical professionals and my dog, people who really can help me.

That being said, I do feel like there is some sort of afterlife.... not a "heaven", obviously, where St. Peter bounces you out if you did something wrong, but something more complicated and intricate than that. It is basic science that nothing ever disappears, it just changes form, and I think that applies to life. I don't believe in the Halloween kind of "ghosts" that look like someone wearing a bed sheet, running around shouting "BOO", but I do think humans leave bits of themselves behind them when they die, in visible and invisible ways; some ways we can sense and some ways we will never fully understand. And I don't believe in "immortality" in the sense of the Fountain of Youth, where someone literally lives forever, but I do think people can achieve immortality through memories and words and actions.

So, when my Grandpa died, it was so hard to learn to live without him being physically here, but I don't think he ever completely left us. He lives on in his American flag, and in his wife and sons he loved so dearly, and in my thoughts when I play poker, and down at the ACE greenhouse on beautiful spring days.

And he lived on in Earl. So losing Earl was SO hard, but it comforts me to think that now my Grandpa and his dog are in the same place, the same state of existence, and I like to think that, though it's in a different way, they're still here with us.

I didn't intend to get quite that deep in this blog, sorry. Haha!

Anyway... change. I don't like it. I never have! I'm sort of a boring person... I like routine! It makes me feel comfortable. But the only predictable thing about life IS change, so I gotta deal with it.

And since New Years always sparks change, I've given thought to New Year's Resolutions, and, though nothing groundbreaking, I came up with one: I resolve that by the beginning of 2016 I will have AT LEAST a very rough draft of my first book. I resolve to write more! On my book ideas and blogs. I love writing and I think I'm decent at it, and I love the idea of being able to reach out and touch people with my words. I hope you'll all support me! :)

Another, less serious New Year's Resolution is to expand my Chinese vocabulary by studying fortune cookies! You know, how on the opposite side of your actual fortune they have words or phrases in Chinese? I've got a few down!
"Bah-shee"= Bus
"Bing"= Disease
"Dou-ya"= Bean sprout

Well, that's what I THINK those words mean anyway. It's a definite possibility some prankster with a wicked sense of humor makes the Chinese words up to confuse clueless people like myself. For all I know "bah-shee!" is an expletive and instead of calling for a bus I'm calling someone a terrible insult...


As for the rental reservation book, I'm sure I will eventually recognize its uselessness and throw it out, but you know what? I'm just not ready to let it go yet.

Have the happiest of new years!! And what are YOUR resolutions?

Sarah

I'd Like Some Reciprocity, Here!

I was super bored today and in the odd moments of the day, I compiled a list of very random anecdotes and thoughts that occurred to me.

• In 5th grade, the NDI (National Dance Institute) came to our school and did a week's worth of dancing lessons, culminating in a big grade-wide performance in the gym Friday night. Our instructors were a pair of lean, lithe 30-somethings with waaaaaaay too much energy and enthusiasm. I swear to you, their everyday faces seemed to be stuck like this:

Although, if I had to pick one, I'd say our female instructor was just a little bit more so. Just obscenely perky. She spun and twirled and sashayed and cha-cha-d all around our little gym, kicking and leaping and frolicking like some strange manic bat out of hell! As she careened from one corner of the gym to the other, she'd shout out instructions to the half-delighted, half-scared shitless bunch of 5th graders in her wake: "Okay now, jump, JUMP like a frog in the rain! Skip! Skip! Skip like little kangaroos in the zoo! Keep your fingers out and open like fresh cereal in the morning, before the milk gets it soggy! GO! GO!"

Anyway, if you don't know me, I will tell you I am many things, but "perky" is just not one of them. This, combined with the fact that I am a poor, poor dancer, left me kind of at odds with the instructors. I'm more of a thinker than a do-er. A good example of this would be on the very first day of classes: We students were taken to the gym and we sat on the floor while the instructors gave us a talk about what we were doing, how it would go, etc. etc. We then got to the topic of dance! 

"Sooooooooo!" screeched our deranged teacher. "NOW who can tell me!! WHAT is the most important thing about dancing??"

We all did our best to look around casually, hoping this mad-woman would not pick us... sort of an every-man-for-himself kind of attitude. BUT I gave it a little thought and figured my answer would be good enough. I raised my hand timidly.

"YES?" she hollered, her nod looking more like a convulsion.

"Well, I guess it would be that all of the dancers are in step... y'know, in sync with each other? If someone's not keeping count, they could mess up the whole dance."

There was a very brief silence.

"Good answer, but NO! You know the most IMPORTANT thing about DANCING? It's.... HAVING FUN!!!"

At the time, I just smiled and nodded, but inside I felt like:

"Fun?" I feel this way still... I mean, have you seen Black Swan?

• About once a month I go up to Pueblo to doctor's appointments and lately I've taken to hanging around Hobby Lobby! It is seriously the coolest store. Always cool decorations and tons and tons of arts and crafts stuff... I could spend hours in there! Anyway, last time I was up there, I took a look at the Color-by-Numbers section. Now, to be honest, I have not yet completed a whole Color-by-Numbers, EVER! About half-way through I always get bored, or spill the paint, or lose my brush. But, that day in Hobby Lobby, I found one that, I believe, will finally break the pattern! You see, amid the Color-by-Numbers of puppies and kittens and majestic looking horses, I found... THE LAST SUPPER! Yes! The infamous DaVinci work of art!
  Okay, so one thing about me you should probably understand is that I am not religious. At all. I wouldn't say I'm anti-religious exactly- I mean, I have absolutely no problems with other people being spiritual and having their faiths, as long as they don't try and shove it in my face. It's just not for me!
  So, you may be wondering why exactly I chose a painting of an iconic religious event to Color-by-Numbers. Well, I dunno... BECAUSE IT'S AWESOME! Haha! I love art in all shapes and forms and I love DaVinci in general. And as I stated above, it's gonna take something awesome to make me finally finish a Color-by-Numbers!
  And I gotta say, so far, so good! Over the past few evenings I have done about two-thirds of it and it's.... interesting. Haha! I'm not positive someone put all the right colors in the box because it's waaaaaaay to bright and cheerful. But.. I like it!
  
• On the subject of religion, I am a complete and utter slob! And every time someone reminds me that "Cleanliness is next to Godliness", I have to fight the urge to clutch my forehead dramatically and exclaim, "That explains so much!"
  
• Every year that I go with my dad and uncle to the ACE conventions, it's always kind of funny walking around the hosting cities because EVERYWHERE you go, (not just at the conventions!) there are middle aged, chubby-ish ACE guys and their families! It's kind of uncanny how you can pick them out of a crowd.
  This year was no different, and as we walked around Orlando at the convention and restaurants and theme parks, everywhere were middle aged, portly fellows wearing light colored polo shirts and khaki pants. I told my dad, "I wish ACE people had some sort of signal or sign, you know, so we could show solidarity!"
  He shook his head solemnly. "Don't wish that. They're all a bunch of nerds."
  
• So this year for my birthday, I'm really excited! The final Hobbit movie is coming out! It's kinda crazy because the same thing happened for the last Lord of the Rings movie, "Return of the King." Of all days, December 17! Yesssssssssssssss! Totally gonna geek out for my birthday. Well. You know. More than usual!
  
• I'm starting to fear I'm spending way too much time at work! Hahaha! I'm starting to pick up co-worker's lingo, some more understandable than others. For example, I'm starting to talk more and more like my dad, using his favorite words like, "Creeps!" and "Bunk!" But then, I'm also starting to do stuff like following a question with, "Or what..?"
  "Are you going home now, or what?"
  "Did you reserve the logsplitter for that guy, or what?"
  
  I don't mean to, I promise! :P

So, tell me some random thoughts you had today!

Sarah

My Halloween Top Threes!

So Halloween is mere hours away! I have compiled a few lists related to the holiday. Please enjoy and give me lotsa feedback!

:)

My Top 3 Scary Movies

3. The Ring. This one people will scoff at, but I feel my point is valid! It is genuinely creepy! Plus, attribute this to one of my medical diagnoses or just my weirdness, but I love the sounds in that movie! The clicks of the computer as Rachel researches, and the sounds of the voices. The screech of TV static! Very satisfying.
2. Scream. This movie just came into my life recently, but I like it very much! I just DVR'd it on a whim and it's awesome! I'm specifically talking about the first one- the sequels are decent, but no where near as good as the first. I suppose cinematically it's no treasure, but it's got suspense and to be honest, I was guessing at the killers til the very end.
1. The Shining. A classic! As you will see, the original book version is in my top list as well. Stephen King is a master, and I love that the plot hits such a basic fear of the human condition- forget all sorts of elaborate storylines, really what is scarier than being deathly afraid of someone you should love and trust? Also, I love that (SPOILER ALERT) the young kid is kind of the hero, able to out-smart an adult AND an evil hotel, and save his and his mothers lives.


Top 3 Scary Books

3. No Escape. So I'll be honest, I don't read that many scary books. But, even if I did I think this would make my top list. It was written by Madge Harrah, who I had the pleasure of meeting! It's no epic masterpiece but it's sufficiently creepy and a cool mystery. Really, what beats a possessed doll?
2. The Shining.  I told you it'd be back! I can honestly say, the book is indeed creepier than the film.. I read it on a verrrrry long car trip in broad daylight and I still had to stop every so often and calm down. It delves even deeper into human fears and compulsions and in the book you really understand more about the hotel's history AND Jack Torrance's insanity. In fact, reading the book made the ending kind of sad, because at the end of the book you learn how hard Jack tries to beat the evil possessing him and how he kind of saves his son.
1. Dracula. Way, waaaaaaaaay before this world went all bat-shit Twilight crazy, this. book. was. AMAZING! It's probably towards the top of all-time favorite book list. I love how it's written in diary-form, from multiple perspectives. Every time I read it, I get more from it! I also find the historical background interesting. In fact, once in high school we had an assignment to write a letter to a historical figure and I chose Vlad the Impaler! I think it's interesting how society has come to think of Dracula as the :son of the devil" but by many accounts the actual person was a Christian crusader! I also find it interesting that in folklore they seemed to think vampires were born from people who committed suicide- kind of a result from breaking one of the 10 commandments: thou shall not kill. I think people fear what they don't understand.


Top 3 Costume Ideas from my Facebook page! (Others)

Flo! From the Progressive Car Insurance commercials

A tree! And a witch

A Kentucky Derby attendee!

Top Costume Ideas from my Facebook page! (Me)

A hard-core Chola!

Confused? This may help:

http://youtu.be/Dy6gKuBZ3tE

Maria from the Sound of Music

The Joker, of course

My Top 3 Costume Ideas- This year!

3. Sheldon Cooper!

The real thing:

The costume version! (Just kidding...)

2. Dwight Schrute!

The real thing!

The costume version!

1. A Khaleesi! And a mother of dragons. (The winner!) While I don't share Daenerys' shade of hair or beautiful dresses, I think I can pull off a Sarah-rized version...

The real thing:

MY costume version:

To be seen....



Happy Halloween!

Sarah

Scars

When I look in a mirror, this is what I see:

In short, scars. Scars, scars, scars. I used to hate them! I thought they were ugly and embarrassing and disgusting. And maybe they are! Maybe you think they're awful, and why on earth would someone take pictures of them and put them on the internet??

Because they're part of me, I guess. They represent an awful thing I went through... and survived. Though not the direct result of depression and bipolar disorder, they came from medicines designed to help me through it. Lithium gave me horrible cystic acne, that here, years later, I still have the evidence of. 

Like I said, I used to hate them. But just recently I realized I don't anymore. In fact, I kind of like them. Just one more unique thing about me that tells a silent story.

And I have plenty of company!

I actually remember years and years ago reading in some of my favorite books about characters with facial scars, and I remember thinking if I ever had one, I'd be proud. I'd wear it with honor! Because those characters' scars happened for big, important reasons and helped make them the strong people they were.

Here are some of my peers :)

Dustfinger is a character in the "Inkheart" trilogy. He is a fire-eater and his best friend is his pet, a marten named Gwin. His facial scars are three cuts, sliced into his face by a bitter and jealous rival. The premise behind the "Inkheart" series is that certain people are actually able to read things in and out of books. It's an absolutely awesome idea... I think any avid reader would agree that good books really can transport you to other worlds, and in the best books, even after you finish reading them, the characters stay with you. Dustfinger was accidentally read out of his world into ours and desperately wants to return to his home. In a less literal sense, who doesn't feel that way sometimes?

Tyrion Lannister. Three words for you: GAME OF THRONES! My latest obsession. I think one of my favorite things about the series is that, with the exception of maybe Joffrey, there is not one character that is entirely good or entirely bad, which I feel is very realistic. Tyrion, though small in stature, is incredibly smart and incredibly brave. He received his scar in the Battle of the Blackwater, his face sliced by an ally-turned-foe.

The Joker, from "The Dark Knight" is probably one of my favorite characters ever. Heath Ledger's portrayal of him was absolutely genius. No one knows the true origins of his scars! He gives several different explanations during the film, so it could be any of them, or none. I love that he accentuates them instead of hiding them.

Harry Potter, The Boy who Lived! His lightning-bolt scar is legendary. His scar is the result of a life-altering trauma- a horrible event in which he lost his parents, but simultaneously proved to the world how strong he was, how strong love is.

If you ask me, scars should be celebrated, not hidden! Whether it's a scar on your knee from the first time you rode (and fell off!) a bicycle, or a face full of laugh lines, you should love them! They tell a lifetime of joys and sorrows, tell you how far you've come, and how far you'll go.

Sarah

FAQs

On a daily basis I get asked questions. At work, at the movie theater, in line at the grocery store... questions! Some concern my appearance, some concern my personal life, a few concern my family, and a few concern prices of rental equipment.

All the big, fancy companies have websites with Frequently Asked Questions so I thought I would follow suit! I want to be fancy and classy too! Plus, I'm a little bit obnoxious.

If you have any questions, let me know! And like the fancy companies I strive to emulate, I may get back to you within the next four to six weeks. During business hours, of course.


"Your name is Elizabeth, right?"

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh so close. Actually it's Sarah. Elizabeth is my way awesomer older sister. People confuse us all the time and insist we are close to twins, but she and I don't see the physical resemblances much at all!

If it helps you, think of me as "Sarah with the crazy Hair-uh!"


"Why is there a safety pin in your ear? Didn't it hurt?"

As to why it is there, I can't really say. It's been there for years and years and years because I like it. And no, it didn't hurt in the slightest! I guess people assume I pierced my ear with the safety pin and left it in there, but that wasn't the case. I got it professionally pierced and later put the safety pin in the hole.


"What does your tattoo say?"

I have two featuring words, the biggest one reading: "We all carry these things inside that no one else can see" which is a quote from a song. The smaller says "expletive." backwards.


"Would you like to learn more about our lord and savior Jesus Christ?"

Nope!


"What does it cost to rent a sewer snake?"

Do you want a large or a small? The large go for $60.00 a day and the small are $35.00 a day. Which one you need depends on the size of the pipe and the distance you need it to go. We don't recommend using more than two rolls of cable.


"And what about renting a carpet shampooer?"

They go for $20.00 a day, plus tax and the cost of shampoo. Would you like me to reserve one for you?


[in response to the toy Sheriff's badge I wear on my ACE apron]
"So you're the Sheriff around here, huh?"

Yes. Self-appointed.


"Is that your real hair?"

If you're asking if it is my natural hair color, um, no it's not. But it's not a wig!


"How do you get your hair that color?"

Carefully!!
If I'm feeling particularly sassy, when people ask that question I tell them it's natural and I just woke up with it like that. But, if you're genuinely interested, I will tell you. I have to bleach it, wash it, let it dry, dye it, and wash it out. It is tiring and time-consuming but I love my colorful hair!


"What does your necklace say? Who's that?"

My necklace says "OTIS". She is my dog and my best friend.


"Is that cat hair on your shirt?"

Oh. Heh. Yeah, probably.


"So you have pets?"

Yes! Otis and I have three cats- Sheldon, Amy and Three. [Bonus question: So you like The Big Bang Theory? Just a little bit....] He doesn't really count, but there is also a lizard that frequents my front porch and I call him Clarky.


"Must you take pictures of EVERYTHING?"

Yes, and if you don't stop bothering me you may find an unflattering, paparazzi-style photo of you on Facebook soon!

:)

Sarah

Dammit!!

Well over a year ago, I published this blog, an account of my more recent mental health problems:

http://jesusbeanlaiho.blogspot.com/2013/03/im-feeling-very-frank-today.html

And about 4 months ago I posted this blog, my background and history with depression, written to mark the 10 year anniversary of my suicide attempt:

http://jesusbeanlaiho.blogspot.com/2014/04/seriously-reader-discretion-advised.html

I fully intended to write another blog about the 10 years since, but I never got around to it.

Well, here we go.


About an hour ago, I read about the death of Robin Williams. The death is believed to be a suicide. Now, I've never met Robin Williams, never spoke to him, never even seen him in person, but somehow I, along with the rest of the world, feel like I almost know him. He was the voice of the Genie in Aladdin, he was in Jumanji, he was Mrs. Doubtfire. Years and years before I was born, he was Mork, of "Mork and Mindy".

He was an actor, yes, a great one. But I think the world will always remember him as a comedian. He could always make us laugh, and the fact that his death was probably a suicide is hard to understand, hard to handle.

Everybody dislikes depression and suicide. How could you not? But I just HATE it. It's like this awful, greedy monster that feeds on unhappiness and isn't satisfied until it's taken every bit of joy from your life, or even your life itself.

When I think of my struggles with depression, and others' as well, it seems similar to people's struggles with addiction to drugs and alcohol; that once you go through it, you're never completely rid of it. For the rest of your life, you'll be a "recovering" addict, or a "recovering" depressive, in my case. Instead of a substance, we recovering depressives are addicted to hating ourselves. And even though we don't all go to meetings like some alcoholics go to AA, I feel like we are still connected through our experiences, and when I hear that one of our own has finally succumbed to his or her addiction, it really, REALLY bothers me.

I recently learned of the death of writer Ned Vizzini, the author of It's Kind of a Funny Story, a book about a young man's fight with depression. I always loved the book because I could relate to the struggles, and Ned Vizzini was so gifted at describing depression; how awful it is and what it's like to fight it. There was a reason: he went through it too! In fact, the book's plot of a suicidal young man checking himself into a psychiatric ward was mostly autobiographical. The book's main character, Craig, thought about killing himself by jumping from great heights, so imagine my sick shock to discover Ned Vizzini died by jumping off a building.

And so depression took another one of us.

Very, very few people know this, but I was recently diagnosed, in addition to the Bipolar/Schizoaffective Disorder, with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder. Long story short, I worry. I worry constantly. I am a checker. I check to make sure my doors are locked and my windows are shut and the lights are off and my alarm clock is on and there is water in my dog's bowl and that there are no cats in my refrigerator. I have routines that help a little bit. When I go to bed, I say to myself, "Off. Off. Shut. Locked. Window. Window. Refrigerator. Cat. Cat. Cat. Water. Light." But it doesn't always work, and no matter how many times I check, I don't trust that I checked correctly, so I check again.

The OCD manifests itself in other weird ways too: I feel certain that I won't have a good day at work unless I tell myself before I GET to work that I will have a good day. Sometimes I get these bizarre obsessive thoughts like: "I know that it is one of the most basic facts that we hear out of our ears but how can I be sure? I feel like if I really hear out of my ears, I should be able to feel the sounds coming into my ears but I can't, so how do I know I hear out of my ears?" and even though I tell myself how weird and stupid that is, I can't stop thinking about it. I'm afraid to throw things out because I feel like as soon as I do, I'll need them. At work when I'm checking customers out, I ask them over and over (sometimes to their annoyance!) how many sacks of dirt they want, just to make sure I got it. I have a DVR and when I'm watching TV, I'll go back again and again and again to hear a certain noise, or to hear someone say something... it makes me feel better for a split second before I have to do it again.

As chronicled in the two blogs I listed above, I have also had lots of problems with hallucinations and delusions and out of control mania. But you know what? NONE OF THAT sucks as badly as the plain, simple, god-awful depression.

I sometimes think about what I would say to my 12 year old self, looking back at all I've experienced. What would I say to that suicidal little girl that hated herself and saw no other way out?

Well, I'll give it a shot.
________________________________________________________________


Dear Sarah,

I have one word for you: Possibilities. That's one of the sneaky things about depression- it makes you forget about possibilities. When depression has you in its grip, all you can think about is the here and now, and how awful that is. In fact, the only possibility you think about is the possibility of escape.

But there are SOOOOOO many possibilities you're not even aware of: the possibility of relief, the possibility of a future, the possibility of a life free of depression. I can and will tell you it won't be easy, but it is most definitely possible.

But in order for these things to be possible, you gotta fight it. You gotta kick and scream and fight. And, like it or not, you need help. You have to ask for help. Support and medicine and help.

Asking for help is not weak or stupid. One of most mental health professionals' favorite points is that depression is a medical condition, just like a broken bone or cancer. You would seek help for that bone or that tumor, wouldn't you? So why aren't you asking for help with your depression?

You are stronger than you know. Strong enough to turn possibilities into reality.

Love, Sarah

P.S. I have one more word for you: OTIS
____________________________________________________

At this point, they have not technically confirmed Robin Williams' death as a suicide, and for his and his family's sake, I hope it's not. Even though I never knew him, I hate the idea. I hate the idea of ANYONE suffering from it.

I doubt many people will read this but if you are reading this and you're suffering from depression, please don't give in to it. FIGHT LIKE HELL and get help, okay?


THANK YOU for reading all of this! I just had to get it out. To sum it all up:

I HATE YOU, DEPRESSION!!

Ahem. Heh.


Sarah

Your Guide to Raton: Version 2.0

I am fortunate enough to have been born in the cultural hotspot of Raton, America, and I felt it's time to share with those not so fortunate. Below I have compiled a small list of terms, locations, and activities common here in the Land of Enchantment.

You're welcome in advance.
____________________________________

VERSION 2.0

I have marked all new additions with an asterisk *

Also, please note that I am by no means an expert on speaking Spanish; the Spanish words and phrases I included are just some of the more interesting and useful ones, and the translations given are just my personal interpretation of what they mean.

¿Comprendo?


*ALL- Local term. For whatever reason, in this part of the world, "all" is often used as a replacement for "really" or "extremely" when describing something intense, as in: "Whoa, that's ALL crazy!" or "I got ALL sick last night."

*BAD- Local term. Ironically, in most cases when used by young'uns, bad means good. As in, "Oh, that's song is bad, dude." Sort of like "badass" or "sick".

BEAR BAIT- Local term. A not-so endearing term for the massive amounts of Boy Scouts who come through Raton every summer on their way to Philmont Scout Ranch.

*CAPULIN VOLCANO- Place. Yep, it's a real volcano! Granted, it's been about 60,000 years since it last erupted...
http://www.nps.gov/cavo/index.htm

*CERVEZA- Spanish term, pronounced "sehr-vay-sah". Beer!

CHAY (also SHAY, CHAYZERS)- Local vernacular. Not to be confused with "E". The word "chay" is usually used as an exclamation of surprise, awe, astonishment, or shock. In some cases, the word is drawn out extensively: "Chaaaayyyyyyyy". This usually indicates a larger amount of surprise, awe, etc.

CHUPACABRA- Local legend. Or is it? True, the Chupacabra is not just limited to New Mexico, but it is well known here. Every so often the NM news channels will do stories on the Chupacabra, and they are always a funny mix of the newscasters shooting holes in the story and irate farmers complaining about the damn things eating their goats.

CRUISING- Common local activity. Mostly a social activity, "cruising" is the activity of driving up and down Raton's 2nd Street with friends, blasting loud music and wasting finite natural resources.

DAIRY QUEEN ICE CREAM CONE- Infamous local landmark. Located in front of Raton's Dairy Queen establishment, there is a humongous replica of an ice cream cone. Just about every six year old who has seen it has licked it, Raton citizens included.

E- Local vernacular. Not to be confused with "chay". "E" (pronounced like it looks) is generally an exclamation of chagrin, annoyance, frustration, or exasperation. Often drawn out, "Eeeeeeeeeeee" sometimes comes out as an irritated sigh.

*FOOL- Local vernacular. In Raton, "fool" is sometimes a nonspecific word for a peer, or sometimes a term of endearment, much like "dude". Ironically, in Raton, "fool" is rarely an insult.

FIREBALLS, THE- The Fireballs are one of Raton's few claim-to-fames. The band formed in the 1950's and is known for the hit, "Sugar Shack".

GARDNER ROAD- Infamous local landmark. Gardner Road is a small road on the outskirts of Raton, not heavily trafficked. Mostly used by locals as a place to drink, get high, have sex, and/or hunt for trolls.

*GOATHEADS- Local vegetation. The enemy of all bare feet, these awful thorns grow in abundance here.

*HIJITA/HIJITO- Spanish term, pronounced "hee-ta/hee-to." The actual translation is daughter/son, but older people often call unrelated young people by these terms. For example, at work I'm called "Hijita" several times a day, but never by my dad.

*LA LLORONA- Local legend, pronounced "La Yorona", meaning "They Crying Woman." This area's answer to the Bogeyman. The legend changes according to where you are and who tells it, but I will give you a quick summary of the legend I'm familiar with:
Years and years ago, there was once a very beautiful woman named Maria. She had many suitors- nice men who would make good husbands and take good care of her. However, Maria found them boring and, instead, turned her attentions to the local bad-boy who was handsome and dangerous. In time, they married and had several children. As time went on, however, he started spending more and more time away from home and had several mistresses on the side. Soon, the only time he came home was to see his children, and never even looked at Maria. After once such visit, Maria fell into a jealous rage, took her children to the river and drowned them. When she realized what she'd done, she was so distraught she drowned herself.
As the legend goes, children should never stay out after dark because the spirit of La LLorona is still out, looking for her children and if she finds a child out after dark, she will take them away. They say, if you are by the river at night, you can still hear her crying.

*NUH?- Local vernacular. Tacked onto the end of a statement, "nuh?" is a grunt for approval or acknowledgement. As in: "Yous are going out of town this weekend, nuh?" or "You wanna go to Dairy Queen, nuh?"

OMBERS- Local vernacular. Pronounced "awwm-burs". All but extinct, this word was the precursor to "chay", and is therefore noteworthy. Mostly used by elementary school children. As with "chay" and "E", "ombers" was sometimes drawn out.

*OOOOO- Local vernacular. "Oooo" is kind of hard to explain without saying it aloud. It's not "ooooh" as in: "Who'd like a cerveza?" "Ooooh, I do!" and it's not "Ewwww" as in: "Ewww, I just stepped on a goathead and my foot is bleeding." It's like a sigh, but more forceful.

PO-PO- Local vernacular. Term for the police, of course. I actually made a joke out of it: What does Santa Claus say when he sees the police? Po-po-po!

*POBRECITA/POBRECITO- Spanish term. "Poor thing." In my experience, unless someone is told this while they are deathly ill, it is probably not sincere.

POLICE REPORT- Local news. Played on the radio, it's a list of alleged criminals and their crimes. Almost always good for a laugh, since it's such a small town. It's always great when someone you don't like gets a speeding ticket or something.

*QUE VA- Spanish term. I believe it technically means "What goes?" but it is extremely versatile. Some people use it like "No way!" and some people use it like, "Damn it!" and some people say it when their peers are being idiots... your call.

RATON- Place. Located in the Northeast corner of New Mexico, this gem of a town was once called "Willow Springs" but is now called Raton. No one is exactly sure why. For the record, pronounced correctly it would be something like "Ruh-tone" but we locals pronounce it "Rat-own".

*SHULER THEATER- Local landmark. I make fun of Raton often, but I can honestly say the Shuler Theater is one of the few Raton landmarks I'm proud of. It is beautiful and historical and I'm honored to be able to say I've been part of several productions, on the stage and behind it.
http://www.shulertheater.com/

*TRINIDAD- Place. Just over the Colorado boarder, this town's Claim to Fame is the fact that it is hailed as "The Sex Change Capital of The World." Raton residents and Trinidad residents have always had kind of an uneasy camaraderie. The relationship is strained by the fact that our sports teams despise each other- on more than one occasion there have been fights and slashed tires. However, with towns as small as ours, we inevitably cross paths often and strike up friendships when we're tired of the dumbasses in our own towns...

TROLL- Local legend. Out on Gardner Road (see above), there is a bridge that, legend has it, is home to a flesh-eating troll. Locals will sometimes dare each other to go troll-hunting at night. As far as I'm aware, the troll has never been sighted, but when you go under the bridge in the daylight, there are bones down there. Maybe not such a legend after all...

WALMART (as in, "Let's go to Walmart!")- Location/Activity. Superior to KMart because of its location and 24 hour operation, locals like to go there a lot. It's an excuse to go to Trinidad where there are lots of different restaurants and whether you buy anything or not, there's always something to do. NOTE: Playing hide and seek there is frowned upon...

*YOUS- Local vernacular. "Yous" is a versatile word! It can be plural: "So what do yous guys wanna eat?" Or single: "Hey dude, do yous wanna come over and hang out?"

*505- Area code. For a very long time, 505 was Raton's area code and it became kind of a gang related symbol- people would get it tattooed to show their dedication. Then our code changed to 575... and now there are a bunch of people with 505 inexplicably on their arms and necks.


Have you contacted your travel agent yet? :)

Sarah

PLEASE NOTE: I have started a new blog, my One Year to a Book Project, where I am attempting to write a fiction novel, while blogging every single day! I hope you'll consider following me!

One Year to a Book Blog

Seriously, Reader Discretion Advised

The following is part of a blog I wrote, about seven years ago, on Myspace. I originally wrote it for a different purpose entirely, but on this upcoming Sunday, April 20th, it will be the ten year anniversary of my suicide attempt. I will be writing a separate blog to mark that occasion, but I thought I would go ahead and share this, the story and some background, before then. It may be strange and awful to read, and it might just feel like too much personal information, and if so, please don't read it. But to me, it was (and is) a huge, life-altering event and I want to share it.

I'm not sharing it to be morbid- quite the opposite. I think it really, really shows just how far I have come.
_______________________________________________________________

Saturday, April 7th, 2007

Okay. I'm about to show you probably one of the worst pics I've ever been in. It's me in 5th grade.

Ugh. I still cringe every time I see that. What a nerd, huh?

But 5th grade wasn't a great year for me. It wasn't as bad as 6th grade, but still bad. I was pretty depressed my 5th grade year. In 5th and 6th grade, I hallucinated a lot. A big part of my world was people other people could never see or hear. But I did. I dreamt about them all the time.. as time went on they got progressively worse. I remember one night, I dreamt that one of the people was standing beside me. I woke up, and she was standing beside me. She reached out and touched my shoulder and I felt it.

In 6th grade, I was suicidal.

I was looking around and I found this old daily journal we did for English. Flipping through it, you can see me sinking lower and lower.

This is the first page:

This is April 14th:

And I'll just type out a few other journal entries so you can see:

November 6th 2003

"There's nothing I desire more than being alone without other people. Alone is how I function best!"

November 18th 2003

-Write about your life at age 35.

"My life will probably be similar to most 35 year-olds. I'll get up at 7, go to work in a stuffy oppressive cubicle from 9 to 5, go home to my small apartment, heat up a TV dinner, and go to bed at 10. I will waste my life in this fashion. Anymore, most things are manufactured in other countries, so I'll be lucky to even have a job."

January 21st 2004

-Do you believe in miracles?

"No, I don't believe in miracles. People are on earth not because someone put us here and is watching over us, but because the conditions on this earth were somehow ideal for us. No one is helping us live, and someday we will all die and destruct. The sun will go out and we will freeze to death and starve. There are no miracles."

January 29th 2004

-Compare yourself to your favorite animal.

"My favorite animal is probably a turtle. I'm not as slow as some turtles, and not as fast as others. I'm not really green or brown. I don't have a shell, but I am very shy."

February 2nd 2004

-What kind of parent do you think you will be?

"How should I know? I certainly hope I won't be abusive. I probably won't even be a parent. When I consider what my parents went through... no."

February 19th 2004

-What do you worry about and why?

"I worry about a lot of things, big and small. For instance, if I have to give an oral report, of course I worry. But I also worry about things like when the sun burns out, the world will die and no one will live. I have bigger concerns, though."

February 26th 2004

-What are the biggest time wasters in your life?

"In my life? Life itself is a pure waste of time!"

February 27th 2004

-What are you thankful for today?

[blank]

April 14th 2004

-Is there life after death?

"God, I sure hope not. Once this life is over, I hope I don't have to endure anything else. Life sucks."

April 20th 2004

-What do you think your parents felt like at your age?

"I don't know and I don't care. Hopefully better than me."

Actually, April 20th was the day I tried to kill myself.

You hear people talk about planning it out. For weeks, even months ahead of time, they knew what day they were going to do it. I didn't really have the date planned out, but I knew how I was going to do it.

For months and months I traced over the veins in my wrists with pencils, pens, and my fingers. Some days when no one was watching, I'd take scissors or a knife or a razor and just lightly trace the veins, without pushing down very hard. I liked the feeling it gave me. I drew tons of pictures of people doing it. I thought about it all the time.

That year, we had an "integrated unit" of math and mythology, so that meant lots of little photocopied books with mythology stories in them. I liked to mess with the little cartoon characters. I'd take a red pen and carve lines and words into their skin, pretending it was mine. I'd gouge out their eyes and slit their throats. They would bleed from the mouth and every place I would cut them. I even showed these to some other people. My closest friends didn't say much about it, but I could tell they were a little worried. Most boys I showed the drawings to thought they were "awesome" and borrowed them to show their friends.

A teacher, Mr. Daniel, saw some once. It was on a trip down to a museum in Santa Fe or Albuquerque. On the long ride down, I was working on some. He asked to see them, and I let him. I didn't care. He was visibly bothered. 

"Are you seeing anyone about these?" he asked. I just laughed.

For all of my 5th grade year and most of my 6th, I never told anybody how bad I was feeling. Nobody.

But one day in February 2004, I was watching TV. One of those ads came on, featuring a student that had benefited from the state's lottery money. She said, "Hi, my name is Sarah and I work with depressed kids." Something just clicked and I started to cry and I couldn't stop. My mom was very confused, and since I was too choked up to tell her what was wrong, she told me to go take a shower, to see if it would calm me down. It didn't really, but I was able to tell her and my dad that I was depressed. Looking back I don't think I emphasized the "suicidal" part nearly as much as I should have.

My mom took me to see a doctor here in town. He prescribed me 10 mg of Prozac. Okay, to begin with, I think Prozac is a shitty drug. But I'll also tell you, at present, I take about 1060 mg of meds a day, so that measly 10 mg wasn't gonna do shit.

This is also where therapy came into the picture. My mom took me to see a therapist in Las Vegas, Judy. Well, maybe it was just because it was my first therapist,but I really disliked her. It was the first time somebody actually made me talk about how bad I was feeling, and I didn't like it.

By about the 2nd visit, she had  assessed that I was definitely at risk for hurting myself, so she wrote out a little "contract" on a sheet of paper. It said that I would not hurt myself unless I called her and talked to her first. I signed it and she made a copy. She gave me the original and told me to keep it- that it was important. I dunno, it was in the pocket of a pair of jeans. I haven't seen it since.

But on the 20th of April, I got to school. We always had homeroom first, and in my homeroom, we couldn't talk- we could read or draw (or sleep!) so that morning I started to draw. I wasn't paying much attention to what I was drawing, so when I sort of woke up and really looked at the picture, I saw it was a girl with a knife. Wearing the same clothes I was wearing that day. I smiled.

I then drew a figure next to the girl in the picture. It was lying down, beside a knife and a pool of blood. It was dead, and it was me. That's when I knew. I knew it was the day.

I hardly remember anything from that day of school, just an overwhelming feeling of relief.

When my mom came and picked me up that day, she could tell something was wrong. "Are you okay?" she asked a couple times. Every time she asked, I just smiled and told her I was fine.

When we got home, I waited until no one was in the room, and grabbed a knife from the kitchen. I had big pockets, so I stuck it in one, but I kept my hand on it. My mom came back in the room and invited me to stay downstairs and watch Oprah with her, like we often did, but I refused. She gave me a hug and I gave her a one-armed hug back, since my other hand was still on the knife. 

I went up to my room and closed the door. I sat down on my bed, holding the knife. I sat there for a few minutes. By then I was pretty much out of it. I started to trace the veins, like always. Then I started to push harder. The skin turned white from pressure, but the knife wasn't cutting. I did my best to make the knife work, but it was clear I had chosen a very, very dull one. I wasn't entirely with it, so I thought I would go back downstairs and grab a different one. I forgot about my mom. When I got downstairs, there she was. There was a split second when nobody moved, nobody spoke, nobody breathed. But then she ran over to me, pushing me into the kitchen, taking the knife from my hand and wrapping a towel around my wrist. We both sat down, rocking back and forth, and she asked over and over, "Why, Sarah? Why?"

And I couldn't answer her.

The cut wasn't awful so she drove me to the doctor's office. When the nurse asked me why I was there, I just showed her my wrist. "Why did you do that?!" she demanded.

I couldn't answer her.

The doctor had me checked into the hospital, mainly so I would be under 24 hour surveillance. They had me change into hospital dress, and sit in a bed in a room. I remember nurses coming in and bandaging up my arm, and the doctor coming back to check on me. I remember taking a shower, with someone checking on me every two minutes. 

One of the nurses there was the mother of one of the kids in my grade. She was very nice to me but then went home and told her kid all about it, and that's how the school found out.

That hospital was where some of the most awkward conversations of my life took place. What can you say to all your family when they come and visit you, there, for that reason?

The only non-family visitor I had was Mr. Daniel, my science teacher. We are still friends to this day.

I was in the hospital a few days. My family always tried to have someone with me at all times- my mom curled up in a chair; my dad stretched out on the floor.

After I got out of the hospital, I stayed home for a day or two. One of my closest friends called me:

"Hey!! What are you doing?" she asked cheerfully.

"Uhh, not too much... what about you?"

"Not much.. hey, I was wondering, do you have the date of the band concert?"

"No, I don't think so, sorry."

"Oh, that's okay, I was just wondering."

"Oh."

"Yeah... hey, I miss you at school."

"Yeah, sorry about that, I should be back pretty soon."

"Good! Good...." here there was a long silence. "There's been some crazy rumors going around about you."

"Oh yeah?" I did my best to sound light, uncaring.

"Yeah... somebody's been saying that you tried to kill yourself by slitting your wrists."

And then I had to tell one of my best friends in the whole world that the rumors were true; that I had tried to do that. That still hurts.

When I got back to school, I couldn't go anywhere without hearing:

"Where's your razor blade, Sarah?"

"Did you really try you hang yourself?"

"Did you really cut yourself 13 times?"

"What a freak."

I wore a wristband over it, but people still stared and asked to see it. My therapist, Judy, heard about it and sent us a refund. I got a new psychiatrist in Pueblo, who's only answer was to "Raise the Prozac!"

Then, I got a new therapist, Loanne. We got a long pretty well, SO much better than Judy and I.  She asked me to sign a contract, like Judy had done. I hesitated, then told her the truth: I didn't think I could. So she called my mom into the room and told us both that the best place for me, the safest place for me, was Parkview Medical Center, a mental hospital/rehab place for teens, and that's where I went.

To be admitted there, I had to be driven there in a police car after surrendering anything on my person considered sharp or dangerous. Once there, they have to push a button in order for the door to open for access into the building. They let me keep my clothes, but I  had to keep my shoes with laces outside in the hall at night when I wasn't wearing them. I had stuff for my pimples, but they kept it at the front desk because it was "too risky".

I had a roommate, Jessica, who was there for depression and eating disorders. We got released on the same day and she gave me some stickers. I still have them.

There were about 10 kids there while I was and we all got to know each other pretty well, because when you're in a place like that, basically all you do is talk. Talk about your issues, talk about theirs, talk about shared issues. If you don't like to talk about yourself, you're pretty much screwed.

I just HATED it there. I was scared and lonely and as unhappy as could be. I got out after a week because I did my best to convince my doctors I was cured and perfectly good to go. I would have said ANYTHING to get out.

But I really didn't feel any better. Not at all. I went back to school and it was hell. It was like everything was closing in again and it sucked.

Then! One day after school, my mom wanted to go see something. She had heard from someone that there was the tiniest, cutest puppy at the Animal Hospital. The puppy had been abandoned at birth, left to die. She made it, though. We went to see her. She was even smaller than I could have imagined, a potato-sized dog. She needed a home and I got to keep her. She saved my life.

We named her Otis, for no real reason- my sister, Elizabeth, suggested it and it just fit. I was in such a low place, I didn't have anything to live for. But then she came.

We had to feed her from a bottle every couple of hours. We had to help her to the the bathroom. We had to keep her warm and safe. She slept in a box by my bed and woke me up at about 6 am every morning with her crying. It was summer, but I didn't care. Not one bit.

I've had so many ups and downs, it's been crazy. They finally figured out that I'm bipolar. 7th grade was a pleasant surprise after 5th and 6th. I got even closer to my old friends and made new ones too. I started dying my hair. I joined an awesome band. 8th grade was pretty good too, but my Freshman year has been amazing. I'm really starting to feel happy with myself and my life.

______________________________________________________________________

Truth be told, I've had quite a few ups and downs since then, but now I'm doing extremely well! Like I said, I will soon be writing another blog, celebrating the ten years it's been, but I just wanted to put this up first, for those of you who didn't know my story.

I know it was really long and not very cheerful but it's a huge part of my life and has helped shape the person I am today.

Thanks for reading!

Sarah (and Otis!)

Did I Mention the Coke Machine Steals Money, Too?

Close to a year ago, I wrote a blog with a couple random stories and anecdotes from working in the greenhouse at Records ACE Hardware in Raton, New Mexico:

http://jesusbeanlaiho.blogspot.com/2013/05/greenhouse-happenings.html

Well, it's probably time to do one about working inside the store!

• Being located where the ACE store is, we deal with a lot of animal life, both outside...

and in!

and of course, the animal in charge of it all...

• Like all places of business, our customers sometimes accidentally leave things behind: debit cards and reading glasses on the checkout counter, car keys on the shelves, coats in the restroom etc., etc. However, one day a rather unusual item was found left in the shovel/rake aisle: a large pair of women's pants! I wish I could explain, but we're still not quite sure what happened...
  
• It's not uncommon for customers to ask lots of questions about rental equipment or occasionally bicker over pricing, but several weeks ago I had a customer come in who tried to argue with me over what equipment we actually rent!
  An older lady came in and asked to rent a chainsaw. I think many years ago we used to rent them, but we don't anymore so I told her, "I'm sorry ma'am, but we don't rent chainsaws."
  She looked at me critically and said, "What do you mean, you don't rent chainsaws?"
  Unsure of how exactly to answer that any more clearly, I reached over the counter and picked one of our rental brochures from the pile and handed it to her. "I'm sorry, ma'am, we don't rent chainsaws any more, but here's a list of all the equipment we do rent, with their prices."
  With an annoyed sigh, she opened the brochure, then flipped it over. She then looked at me and gave me an odd smile. She slowly and clearly said, "All of this rental equipment and you don't rent chainsaws...?"
  "I'm sorry, ma'am, no. We do sell them, though, and I can get one of the guys from the back to help you if you'd like to look at---" Here I was interrupted by a triumphant cackle.
  "HA! CHAINSAW! Chainsaw! Right there!!" she exclaimed, with her finger jabbed at the word on the back of the brochure.
  "Well, chainsaw sharpen---" I began timidly.
  "Oh...Chainsaw sharpening, $5.00," she read. "Well, yeah, I guess, let me go look at what you've got for sale," she said, and took off towards the saws.
  I'm still not exactly sure what she thought would happen: I would sigh in defeat, admit it was all a ruse, and rent her the saw? Hmm.
  
• Every new year, ACE sends us a bunch of free calendars to hand out to customers that, in addition to lots of free advertising, provide a monthly bargain. They're really not very exciting, but hey, they're free! Several mornings ago, the phone rang, I answered it, and the caller asked to please speak to a manager. We were pretty busy so I transferred the call and promptly forgot about it. When lunch time came around, I went up front on the hardware side of the store to get some cokes from the machine for my dad and me. Samantha, one of our managers, saw me and grinned.
  "Sarah, you remember the caller who wanted a manager? Do you know what she was calling about?"
  "I have no idea," I admitted.
  "She was calling to complain about our free calendar," she laughed. "Apparently it didn't include phases of the moon."
  I just stared at her.
  "Yep. Apparently last year's had them and she's pretty disappointed..."
  "Damn free calendar" I muttered.
  "Your uncle says he thinks something can be arranged..." she said with a chuckle.
  So I will say here and now: the free ACE calendars are not very exciting and they don't have the damn phases of the moon! I work there and I didn't even want one... I have a Big Bang Theory calendar. And a Hobbit one. They both have the moon phases! I guess you get what you pay for...
  
• The coke machine I just mentioned in the above paragraph is, at best, temperamental. Also, the Coke guy who is supposed to come all the time to fill it only comes when we beg him. We all get kind of desperate when all that's left in the machine is a few bottles of weird Powerade. But like I said, even when the machine is completely full it's iffy. In fact, when business is slow, the cashiers on the hardware side like to watch people when they try to buy drinks. Often, the machine will do this thing where you enter the money, hit the button and the machine starts to rumble promisingly.. but just as the bottle should roll down where you can grab it, the machine makes an unhealthy lurching sound and gives you the error message. When this happens, the employees all throw up their hands and groan comically.
  
• On my afternoon breaks, I sometimes sit at my dads computer at the parts counter and play Reversi online. Let me just say, I used to KICK ASS at that game. Anymore, well... eh, not so much. I was playing today and my dad came back, sat next to me and watched for a minute.
  "Who are you playing?" he asked conversationally.
  I consulted the screen. "A Portuguese beginner."
  "Hmm...What color are you?"
  I gave a barely perceptible pause. "White."
  "Ouch," he offered cheerfully. I didn't dignify that with an answer.
  A moment later, the game ended. Abysmally. I started a new game and turned to him. "Now I'm playing a Greek beginner. You know, I used to be great at this game!"
  "Well the Portuguese guy sure kicked your butt," he commented. "How are you doing this time? Not so well, I'd say.."
  "Well, you know, when you first start a game, sometimes it's good to have less pieces. So then you can get more. And it's really better in the long run. And. And. I'm just making this up. I'm already losing..." I admitted with a sigh.
  My dad has this particular laugh he uses when I say something so completely idiotic or dorky that it couldn't possibly be funny, but it somehow still is. Like when I pull Betty's tail under my nose and say, "Dad, I 'mustache' you a question." Or when I tell him a joke like, "Past, present and future all walked into a room, and man, was it tense!" The laugh is somewhere between a chuckle and a snort of derision.
  Anyway, he gave his laugh then, smacked me lightly on the head and went back to work in an aisle a few feet away. I then somehow managed to turn the game around and win. I excitedly raised my voice and hollered, "Dad! I beat the Greek guy!"
  After a moment's pause, his voice floated over the shelves: "Sure you did...."
  
  Thanks for that vote of confidence, Dad...
  
  

Please note: the photos of the deer, bear, and skunk came directly from Records ACE Hardware's Facebook page...

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Records-Ace-Hardware/269168747665

Hey! Why not like us on Facebook?

Haaaa! I've always wanted to say that!

Sarah