More house pictures

Some of my favorite things about the house are the fixtures, fans and old glass doorknobs.

SOLD!

So my house was put on the market March 16th. It sold last weekend! On the market for less than a week! Now we are just waiting on the final paperwork. The couple who bought it want to close on April 4th! Very quick. I'm glad it sold so quickly, but of course am a little sad that my house won't be my house anymore.



Just a note: the white wicker furniture in the sun room/family room is the real estate agent's.

My Limerick

I am one of the thousands of people throughout the world who follow Nate Lawrenson's blog about his family: his beautiful wife Tricia who is awaiting a double lung transplant at the very hospital where their daughter Gwyneth remains after being born 15.5 weeks early. Tricia has cystic fibrosis and risked her life to bring baby Gwyneth into the world. Now both Tricia and Gwyneth are in Duke University Hospital, and Nate is there every day blogging about their experiences. They are an awesome family. Nate's link is posted on the right under blogs I read. Check it out; it's great!

Anyway, Nate posted a limerick in honor of St. Patrick's Day and challenged his readers to submit their own CFHusband-themed limerick. I didn't enter the contest, but thought I'd write one for Olivia instead. Here it is:

As Olivia grows older and stronger
Her arms and legs grow longer.
A beautiful woman she’ll be
We can all hardly wait to see
There are so many people who love her.

My first ever limerick I believe, although it may not follow the rules to a T. My dictionary defines a limerick as, "a light humorous, nonsensical or bawdy verse of five anapestic lines usually with the rhyme scheme aabba." Wikipedia adds, "A limerick has five lines, with three metrical feet in the first, second, and fifth lines and two metrical feet in the third and fourth lines. A variety of types of metrical foot can be used, but the most typical are the amphibrach (a stressed syllable between two unstressed syllables) and the anapaest (two unstressed syllables followed by a stressed syllable).

Okay, back to work!!

Is Everyone Wearing Green Today?

Just wondering if everyone remembered to wear green today. I actually remembered for once. Of course every year that I forget to wear green, I just use the old "I have green eyes" bit. Doesn't count technically I suppose, but I haven't been pinched for not wearing green since I was in at least jr. high so I guess it works. On a completely random note, today is an ex-"boyfriend"'s birthday. A guy I briefly dated between bouts with Spawn (I call my xxbf, the ex from another life ago, Spawn of Satan or 'Spawn' for short) was born on March 17th. Don't know why I still remember that.

Anyway, Happy St. Patty's Day! Hmm...I think I'll look up the origins of this day since I really don't know why it's celebrated other than to give people an excuse to have a parade and drink green beer.

A Round of Applause Please

I went out last night for the first time in over 3 months! And, if I don't say so myself, I did a great job! I didn't drink too much, wasn't too anxious (although I did have my moments) PLUS I followed through and actually met up with a guy that I've talked to a few times on Myspace. He has some potential perhaps, if I can just stop myself from finding reasons not to talk to him and from commencing "Operation Ignore", which I'm famous for doing (involves responding less and less to text messages, emails, etc until they lose interest).

Anyway, although I haven't gone into too much about my drinking experiences on here, last night was an occasion for me to be proud of. Of course, one time does not mean a whole heck of a lot. We shall see...

Tonight

I might be going out tonight for the first time in a loooong time. I'm kinda nervous. I used to go out all the time when I got single about a year ago, but started drinking too much and doing stupid things, so I quit. Of course lately I've quit doing just about everything else too. I don't really want to go tonight, but I think if I don't start trying to come out of my funk soon I will become a hermit. So wish me luck...

Bailey??

This picture totally cracks me up! This isn't Bailey, but it sure looks like something she would do. I just had to share this picture because it makes me smile.

A Good Day

This is Olivia, Superbaby!

Peeking over mom's shoulder

I love her expressive eyebrows!

I got to spend time with Jodi and Olivia this afternoon. Olivia was adorable despite the fact that she was not having a great day. She is still struggling with vomiting after some of her bottles. She recently started Prevacid, which seemed to help for a few days, but the vomiting has returned although less frequently. I hope the Prevacid continues to improve her feeding issues so Jodi doesn't have to worry so much. Despite not feeling like her usual happy baby self, Olivia still smiled for me and talked to me. Jodi and I think her first word will be "mama" as she already makes mmmm sounds very well! Sorry Ryan!

I hope to remain healthy so I can spend more time with them. I think my antisocialness has paid off in that regard as I haven't gotten any of the bugs going around. I don't get exposed to too many germs when I stay in my office most of the day and stay home on the weekends!

A dog at my feet

Bailey doesn't want me to blog tonight because she is tired and ready to go to bed. I think I agree. I'm pretty sleepy myself for no good reason (other than the fact that I like to sleep). I'm excited for tomorrow though. I'm leaving work early to go hang out with my friend Jodi and her daughter Olivia. Olivia is such a cutie, and I'm excited to see how much she's grown since I saw her last. She is a micropreemie and was born at 23 weeks gestation. Her twin brother Logan died in September, but he must have given her his strength because Olivia is now home and thriving. She's a little over six months old and weighs about ten pounds, almost ten times her birth weight! She has passed test after test with flying colors. Her ROP (an eye problem many micropreemies develop) regressed on its own without surgery, she has no hearing issues, she shows no signs of cerebral palsy and she seems to even be conquering her feeding issues that almost every micropreemie goes through. And she's GORGEOUS to boot. I feel very privileged to be able to spend time with her as she is in almost total isolation right now until June (micropreemies are very susceptible to illness, especially RSV, which incidentally is at peak levels in Wichita this year). Her parents have done a wonderful job of protecting her.Well, I'm off to bed. Bailey is sleeping under my feet, but is "talking" to me with her Wookie noises. She's telling me she wants to go to bed. Hmm...I think I will post a random picture below this. For some reason I don't want Olivia's picture above the picture of you-know-who from my last post.

Here's a picture of my car.

In the Home of a Serial Killer

As weird as it may seem, I have a fascination with serial killers. Jack the Ripper, Ed Gein, Ted Bundy, The Hillside Strangler, Son of Sam, BTK. It’s what made me choose criminal justice as my major in college. To some, this makes me twisted, insensitive or a psychopath myself. I assure you I am none of those things. I guess instead of just being scared of the bogeyman, I wanted to know why there was a bogeyman. Murder is a horrible thing, but the majority of homicides are committed for specific reasons that while we may not agree with, we can at least understand: the murder in the heat of passion, the murder for financial gain, the murder to avenge a perceived wrong. It’s the murder for the sheer pleasure of it, the murder because “they” told me to do it, the murder to rid the world of those less worthy. These are the reasons behind serial murder. And these reasons are the ones I’m interested in.

I took a class called Serial Killers as a sophomore in college. It was the first semester it was offered and was taught by a professor who became my mentor as I continued my criminal justice degrees. This is the first time I learned anything specific about the serial killer known as BTK. BTK stands for Bind, Torture, Kill. This killer was responsible for the grisly murder of ten people in Wichita, Kansas, from 1974 to 1991. Since I was born and raised in Wichita, I had heard of BTK, but he hadn’t been heard of in so long that nobody really ever talked about him anymore by the time I was old enough to pay any attention. It was assumed he’d moved, died, been incarcerated or institutionalized.

BTK and his victims were the subject of numerous case studies throughout my college career. I saw crime scene photographs that I can still remember to this day; I learned about the victims, learned about the investigation from the man who was pivotal in cracking the case, Lt. Landwehr, and learned about the psychological profile of the killer who would not be arrested until 2005, fourteen years after his last murder. BTK was merely a case study to me. That is until February 26, 2005, when a phone call from my mother changed that.

It was a Saturday. I was working at Wendy's, where I was a co-manager (yes I had a bachelor's and a master's degree, but was still working in food service). A customer who came through the drive-thru told the register operator that "the police arrested BTK!" See, BTK had begun corresponding with the police again in 2004 after 27 years of silence. He left his "trophies" for people to find, wrote letters to KAKE studios, a local TV station, etc. Wow! BTK had been arrested! The police did not release who the man was. A short time later, my mom called to talk to me. She said, "you'll never guess who they arrested as BTK." "Who?!" "Well, they didn't release his name, but said he's the compliance officer for Park City." "Oh my god! Dennis Rader?" "Yes." Dennis Rader. The compliance officer for the town I grew up in. Dennis Rader. My brother's Boy Scout leader when he was a kid. Dennis Rader. My previous best friend's father. I couldn't believe it. All those years of studying BTK's case and I knew him all along. It's hard to describe the feeling I had when the realization hit. The crime scene photographs filled my head. Visions of my brother and I playing in his backyard with his children. I went to Girl Scout Camp with his daughter for years. We spent summers together at each other's houses, going to the swimming pool, playing in their tree house. We were inseparable at camp. I had lost touch with her once we hit high school and stopped going to camp. We went to different schools. But once I learned who her father was, I immediately felt great pain for her. How could the father she knew be the same person who brutally murdered ten people?

Although it was illogical, he'd been arrested afterall, I became anxious at times about him. He became my bogeyman. I remember barricading my bedroom door one night when I was home alone. I also starting keeping a knife in my nightstand. I would imagine him waiting in my closet for me to fall asleep. To this day, I still dream about him sometimes. And I still imagine what it must be like for his family. To know that they lived with the bogeyman, a monster, and never had a clue. That is what fascinates me about serial killers. You can know one and not even know it. I knew him. I spent time with him. And I've seen what he did to ten innocent people.

I still shudder when I see his picture.