One of the Things I Do...

I Am An Animal Rescuer

My job is to assist God's creatures. I was born with the drive to fulfill their needs. I take in helpless, unwanted, homeless creatures without planning or selection.

I have bought dog food with my last dime. I have patted a mangy head with a bare hand. I have hugged someone vicious and afraid. I have fallen in love a thousand times and I have cried into the fur of a lifeless body too many times to count

I have animal friends and friends who have animal friends. I don't often use the word "pet". I notice those lost at the road side and my heart aches. I will hand raise a field mouse and make friends with a vulture. I know of no creature unworthy of my time.

I want to live forever if there aren't any animals in Heaven, but I believe there are. Why would God make something so perfect and leave it behind? Some may think we are master of the animals, but the animals have mastered themselves - something people still haven't learned.

But a rescue that makes the news gives me hope for mankind. We are a quiet but determined army and we are making a difference every day.
There is nothing more necessary than warming an orphan, nothing more rewarding than saving a life, no higher recognition than watching them thrive. There is no greater joy than seeing a baby play, who only days ago was too weak to eat. By the love of those who I've been privileged to rescue, I have been rescued. I know what true unconditional love really is........ for I've seen it shining in the eyes of so many, grateful for so little.

I am an Animal Rescuer....
My work is never done,
My home is never quiet,
My wallet is always empty,
My heart is always full.

The Geography of Women

GEOGRAPHY OF A WOMAN

Between 18 and 22, a woman is like Africa : half discovered, half wild, fertile and naturally beautiful.

Between 23 and 30, a woman is like Europe : well developed and open to trade, especially for someone of real value.

Between 31 and 35, a woman is like Spain : very hot, relaxed, and convinced of her own beauty.

Between 36 and 40, a woman is like Greece : gently aging but still a warm and desirable place to visit.

Between 41 and 50, a woman is like Great Britain : with a glorious and all conquering past.

Between 51 and 60, a woman is like Israel : has been through war, doesn’t make the same mistakes twice, takes care of business.

Between 61 and 70, a woman is like Canada : self‑preserving, but open to meeting new people.

After 70, she becomes Tibet : wildly beautiful, with a mysterious past and the wisdom of the ages, an adventurous spirit and a thirst for spiritual knowledge.


GEOGRAPHY OF A MAN

Between 1 and 90, a man is like Iran : ruled by nuts.

THE END

I wish I could be a handy man. I wish I knew how to paint, cut wood, hammer nails and measure stuff.......hey......wait a minute......I CAN DO THOSE THINGS. How come I can't build/repair/create stuff and get on that show "Extreme Makeover for Houses"? Shit.

Well, I wish I could play guitar and piano and sing and dance really well and wasn’t afraid to perform in front of people, then I could be on ‘Americas Got Talent” and win millions of dollars and have my own Vegas act........hey.....wait a sec......I CAN do those things......how come I'm not getting paid for it? sheeeeeittt.

Well, at least I don't have to worry about how come I can't dance really well and am over weight, or I could be on that new reality show ‘Dance your ass off”.......HEY, WAIT ONE FUCKING SECOND......I CAN dance and I am over weight......how come I didn’t hear about the auditions?

Well...good thing I was never taught how to groom a dog really well to AKC standards,from my father. Then I could go on that show 'Groomer Has It" and win $50.000 and a new mobile pet grooming bus and go into the pet grooming business for myself....wait one god damned second...I CAN DO THAT...I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT ALL MY LIFE. I can even clip a poodle to show standards. Crap...why aren't I doing tht for a living?

Well......the one think I know for sure I can't do is cook really well, like professionally trained people can. That's one thing for sure I don't have to wor......oh no......wait......I am having a memory.......oh fuck.....I CAN DO THAT, I WAS TRAINED PROFESSIONALLY AT CULINARY SCHOOL AND I CAN COOK BETTER THAN ANYONE I KNOW.

Fuck!! Why can't I be on any of those shows WHERE YOU win money for doing things better than other people?

Well, it gives me great relief to know that at least I went to college to learn how to talk to people who are upset because they got one DUI one time and now must pay tens of thousands of dollars to keep from getting it on their driving records by going to Intensive Outpatient Treatment......I can sit with them for hours on end and tell them why they are in denial and how they really do have a problem, they just don't know it yet but if they go to enough AA meetings, they will believe it......yeah, that’s what I am going to do. I'll have them get slips signed that can never be verified......and write down negative remarks about them not accepting the truth about their "Disease" if after those 2 years they still don't think they are an alcoholic.....making the judge think they are still very much in denial and that they need more thousand dollar treatment......yeah, that’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.
Sure glad I decided to go to college to get my degree to help people. Do I sound bitter? I am. I have had a real piece of reality pie showing me what this 'treatment' people are getting is all about. MONEY. Plain and simple. Oh well...it's better than shooting heroin...right?

First Weeks Are Tough

Well, I have completed my first week at my new job and let me tell you something. TEN HOUR DAYS SUCK!!!! I have always thought having a 4 day week would be awesome and the 3 day weekend even mobeta...But I think I was thinking about working a 4 day a week with 8 hour days. Those last 2 hours are freaking brutal.

I have basically been riding my couch for the last 7 years...those 2 years in college aside but really, I have been able to nap anytime I feel like it. Those days are GONE. I have to sit in groups and what really is the ball buster is those night groups. From 6:30 to 9:30 we are in a group..IOP.. Intensive Out Patient. These are people who have gotten DUI's and other drug and alcohol court related indicents. People have been arrested and their 'punishment' is to go to IOP in order to educate them on the disease of alcoholism and drug addiction. I am the group leader and as such, I am to lead them into helpful and active discussions about addiction. Most of these folks are so mad that they have to be there. They don't believe they have any problems, aside from having to sit their ass in this fucking group. They want out of there in the worst way possible. Well...I am so empathetic. I know how they feel. I was one of them. I can see myself sitting there, arms crossed, foot tapping, conversation inside my head was 'Waaa Waaa Waaa...I am not like you, I never was like you and I never will be like you and what the fuck am I doing here?"

Well, I see me sitting in all those chairs. It is like a blast from the past, only now I am the one leading the group instead of follwing I was leading....leading while trying not to pass out from shere exhaustion. I literally gave myself whiplash from jerking my head up to keep from falling asleep. The people were laughing at me and I was so embarrased. It is just because I am not used to it. I will get better. I know I will. It's just in the mean time....this is gonna be tough.

I slept until 12:30 this morning (afternoon?) I have never slept in that late, ever. Not even when I worked until 3 in the morning. I always got up early. Not anymore. Stay tuned for more exciting stories of 'Susan has a new job'

#52

Well, it is 7:25 a.m. It is a beautiful sunny July day. I am up, dressed, lunch packed, car loaded with all my goodies for my new office and ready to go start job #52 (I know there were a few I forgot so that isn't the real number but it's close enough. I am nervous, apprehensive, tense and excited. I don't know how I am going to do. I am nervous that if I decorate my new office that I will curse myself. If I don't decorate it, I will be stuck sitting in a very drab, ugly office. I was told not to go overboard when decorating it, but to 'make it your own space'. So, I have two plants, some...well...all of my therapeutic books from school and from my own personal collection. I do have an impressive library if I do say so myself. Dawn gave me a beautiful card congratulating me on this new adventure. Bless her heart. I love her. Flaws, faults, imperfections and all. She is my friend and I do love her. I know I knock her around in here but that's just how we roll. I am by no means perfect either. I know she loves me with all her heart so that's all that counts, right? I love having someone who knows me as well as she does. She may not be a great house keeper but her knowledge of me, is second to NONE.

Her advice to me was, "Don't think anyone down there loves you because they don't and they will stab you in the back just as soon as look at ya. Just be careful, don't trust anyone and do good." I couldn't think of better advice myself. I do tend to get too comfortable at a job. I let my guard down, I talk too much about stuff that doesn't belong at the office and I trust people (women) who turn around and stab me in the back.

Here is a good example of just that very thing. When I worked at Rural Metro Ambulance, I befriended a gal named Jess. She had been there for several years and was loved by everyone. When she had marital problems, the company pitched in and got together an very nice Christmas for her and her kids when they were living in a woman's shelter. The big boss was friends with her from school and I figured she was a good person to make friends with. Boy was I wrong.

One day, she and I were talking about drugs and stuff, I had no idea that she was such a stoner. She loved pain pills, opiates, cocaine, you name it. Well, one day I brought her home with me and we got high. I did that stupid thing, I shared heroin with her. she loved it.....oh god Susan.

OK, fast forward several months. I am very close to my 6 month evaluation where they would decide to keep me permanent or not. Sunday night at 10:30, Jess is at my door wanting me to find her some coke. I don't have a clue where to do that, but I instead got her to pray with me. ( I was going through my christian phase at this time). I got on my knees with her and we prayed for God to take away her cravings. I had no idea what situation she had left at home. I would later find out. She left my place, to go home...or so I thought.

That next morning, I went into my office manager Candy to talk to her about Jess. Not to bring up the drug thing but to tell her I was worried about her state of mind. She mentioned 'Suicide' a couple times and I just did what a good friend would do. Candy told me that Jess hadn't come home that night and her husband had just called frantic with worry. I was sitting right there when Candy called Jess's husband Todd. she said, "Hello Todd, listen, Susan is in here and she said she saw Jess at around 10:30 last night and she left at about 11 and was fine.". I watched Candy's face while she listened to Todd's response, and it dropped. Her jaw fell open and the expression on her face could only be described as shocked. She said, "Oh, really....uh-huh..I see, well OK then. I will get back to you later."

She didn't let on to anything and she said to go back to my office that there was nothing else we could do. Five minutes later, I turn around and there stands Candy along with Jeannine(Human Resource Manager) and John (general manager). They tell me that I need to go with them for a drug test. That Todd had told them I was a "heroin dealing, drug using freak that Jess had been getting her drugs from". I was stunned. I had no idea that for the last 3 months Jess had been on a roll and when she got caught one night and was asked where she was getting her stuff from, she blurted out "This chick at work Susan" never thinking Todd or my path would ever cross, or so I imagined. I had no idea that she and he were fighting and his last words to her were, "You either stop going over to Susan's or I am leaving." and she left...TO GO TO SUSAN'S...FOR HER SECOND TIME ONLY. Her husband thought this was an on going thing and he was telling her it was 'her dealer or him'.

Oh my freaking GOD....can i pick'em or what. I was using heroin at that time and there was no way I was going to pass any drug test. Not because I was Jess's drug dealer but for reasons of my own...I was terrified. I got in the car with the two head honchos, John and Jeannine and we headed to the clinic for me to give a UA. All the drive there I kept saying, "I have never sold her anything. I don't do that. I don't know what she has been telling her husband!!" I kept asking, "Is this going to affect my evaluation?" and they kept saying ,"No, as long as everything comes out OK, this will have nothing to do with that." LIARS!!!

I won't go into detail about how to fake a, unobserved UA with no previous warning...those of you who have ever had to do it, know how I did it. It's embarrassing and disgusting to admit. OK, so I was not allowed back on the job until they got the results, which were "Flushed" meaning there was too much water in the specimen and I had to retest...which I was ready to do now because I had gotten someone else's pee for that second test...for the first one...oh forget it. It's gross what people will do to get through a drug test without failing. Most people knock on their friend's doors asking to borrow a cup of sugar or milk...not drug addicts. They ask for borrow a cup of urine....from my friends mother no less.

So, I went in for that second test, I passed and came back to work. But, when my 6th month anniversary came by, I was so excited and certain I had a job. I baked cookies and distributed them to all of the EMT's (Emergency Medical Techs aka ambulance drivers) and everyone else in the office. When it came time for my review...I walked into Candy's office and there sat Candy and Jeannine....they were both in tears. Not a good sign. Candy came up with some bullshit reasons for my not being able to stay with them....one was my singing with the radio bothered Margaret (the fat old bitch I shared the office with). The other reason was I took off my shoes (Under my desk mind you)....what the real reason was is that I was involved in a suspicious situation and they weren't having it. No matter how hard they denied that was the reason, I knew it was.

The fact that they were crying meant nothing to me, although I am sure this wasn't their decision, it was John's...he had the last word in who stayed and who didn't. He and I never really got off to a good start...I always had that feeling that he didn't like me for what ever reasons it was. Botton line was, I was asked to get my belongings together and I was walked out to my car by Candy and Jeaninne who both gave me a big hug and told me if I needed a letter of reccomendation, that they would be happy to provide me with one.

Moral of this story boys and girls. Don't befriend your co-workers. Don't open your door to them late at night when they are on the prowl for drugs. Don't use drugs while on the job so in case they have a random UA put, you can pass it. And the most important thing......Keep your personal life personal. I shared alot of my stuff with Jess who in turn shared it with her husband. He must have thought I was just a real piece of shit judging from how he reacted when he heard his wife was in my company. That expression on Candy's face told all.

OK, well...now I am off to my new job. Job number #52 and hopefully my very last job for the rest of my working, walking, talking, counseling life.
Cross your fingers, tap your bible, light your candles or what ever else you do to send good joo joo to someone. I need it...all of it.

Peace Out

I Survived "OK DAZE"

Well I survived my first day of my new job. I call first days on a job my "OK Daze" because all I say all day is, "OK" and I am usually in a daze. I am always being told what to do, how to do it, when to do it, why to do it, where to do it and who to do it with and the proper response when having been told to do something is 'OK'.

I have my very first own office!!! Not a cubicle...a real office with a door, a lock, a computer, desk, shelves, black plastic organizer complete with pens, paper clips, binder clasps, rubber bands, colorful thumb tacks and highlighters....in every conceivable color. I am going to customize it up really nice too. I was told not to go crazy, meaning don't bring in waterfalls, and incense or rain sticks. I was kind of bummed because that is exactly what I wanted to do. I want to get rid of the overheard flourescent lighting and just use table lamps to get rid of that institutional feel, ya know? It is so bright in there it almost hurts my eyes. Also it is very hot in there. No ventilation, just a fan. The A/C in the building is awesome only there are no vents in the offices...when you shut the doors, they become little saunas...I became over come with heat and I nodded out during one assesment. Not good. I am going to make do with what I have been given to work with and it is going to be a nice office.

Please dont' get me wrong, I am in NO way complaining, oh God no. I am so grateful to be there. I Love the vibe. The people are so...real. I am not in some franchise/chain place that has its bosses sitting in some office half way across the country. No big full page yellow page ads..nope. This is a privately owned and operated facility with a woman owner being the HBIC. She is old school, been not only around the block but around the world and she was drinking whiskey the entire tour. She has a heart as huge as the entire world and you can tell this is her passion. She is a woman of few words but those that she does say are powerful, meaningful and worth listening to.

The man who runs the shop is a trip. Dan....old school junkie/alky. He has a voice that is as smooth and deep as a velvet covered well. He should be doing voice overs or working as DJ..great stuff. When I commented on it, he said, "Nope it's just a whiskey voice." I knew exactly what he meant. Years of smoking and drinking take its toll on a vocal chord. I loved him instantly. When he called Susie into the room, I loved her instantly too. She reminded me of my Aunt Maxine and a bit of my Mom...There is nothing you can tell them that they dont already know.

There is a gentleman there named Dan. He is a soft spoken, very polite man and that is all I know about his as of this point. Debbie is the woman I was training with. She is the friend of my very close friend and I found out there is bad blood between them. My friend loaned her a large sum of money, never to be repaid. My friend is evolved enough to not let an unpaid debt get in the way of the friendship, but the woman not only didn't pay her back, she had her phone number changed and started treating my friend like a debt collector....so unfortunately, the friendship didn't survive the ordeal and my friends life will go on but if this woman I am working with is truly 'working a solid program of sobriety' then she should make every effort to repay the loan. They "work steps" and this is an example of bad stepping....I don't know if they really have a step that addresses this particular issue, but if they did it would probaly go something like this
STEP 13 "Hey fuckhead...if someone is kind enough to loan your dumbass money, the very least your sober ass can do is pay them back". Right?

Well, this is the beginning of a new chapter of my life. Where life will take me is anybodies guess...I am keeping my fingers crossed and praying with all my heart that this is going to be the last job I ever have. I am not young and I don't have any extra energy in me to job hunt. I need to 'job keep'. I have 'job found' and I want to stay put. Stay tuned for more of 'As Susan Turns'.

I Loved My Dysfunctional Childhood

Black and White TV's of the past...
You could hardly see for all the snow,
spread the rabbit ears as far as they go...
pull a chair up to the TV set,
Good Night, David.
Good Night, Chet.'

My Mom used to cut chicken, chop eggs and spread mayo on the same cutting board with the same knife and no bleach, but we didn't seem to get food poisoning.

My Mom used to defrost hamburger on the counter and I used to eat it raw sometimes, too. Our school sandwiches were wrapped in wax paper in a brown paper bag, not in ice pack coolers, but I can't remember getting e.coli.

Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the lake instead of a pristine pool (talk about boring), no beach closures then..

The term cell phone would have conjured up a phone in a jail cell, and a pager was the school PA system.

We all took gym, not PE...and risked permanent injury with a pair of high top Ked's (only worn in gym) instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion soles and built in light reflectors. I can't recall any injuries but they must have happened because they tell us how much safer we are now.

We all wore white, short sleeved, buttoned shirts and (short) blue shorts for gym, washed over the weekend and brought back clean on Monday We all took showers at end of Gym before going to our next class.
Flunking gym was not an option... even for stupid kids! I guess PE must be much harder than gym.

Speaking of school, we all said prayers and sang the national anthem, and staying in detention after school caught all sorts of negative attention..

We must have had horribly damaged psyches. What an archaic health system we had then. Remember school nurses? Ours wore a hat and everything.

I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud of myself.

I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, Play Station, Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations.

Oh yeah... and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit when I got that bee sting? I could have been killed!

We played 'king of the hill' on piles of gravel left on vacant construction sites, and when we got hurt, Mom pulled out the 48-cent bottle of mercurochrome (kids liked it better because it didn't sting like iodine did) and then we got our butt spanked.

Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day dose of a $49 bottle of antibiotics, and then Mom calls the attorney to sue the contractor for leaving a horribly vicious pile of gravel where it was such a threat.

We didn't act up at the neighbor's house either, because if we did we got our butt spanked there and then we got our butt spanked again when we got home.


I recall Donny Reynolds from next door coming over and doing his tricks on the front stoop, just before he fell off.
Little did his Mom know that she could have owned our house.
Instead, she picked him up and swatted him for being such a goof.

It was a neighborhood run amok.

To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a dysfunctional family.

How could we possibly have known that? We needed to get into group therapy and anger management classes.

We were obviously so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn't even notice that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac!

How did we ever survive?

LOVE TO ALL OF US WHO SHARED THIS ERA. AND TO ALL WHO DIDN'T, SORRY FOR WHAT YOU MISSED.
I WOULDN'T TRADE IT FOR ANYTHING!