Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Dealing

It’s been almost a week since I was burglarized and a detective will come on Thursday to survey the home and take fingerprints. It may not make a difference, but I was insistent that an actual detective come out and take fingerprints. I have very little hope of regaining my stolen items, but I do want to see the police do their job.

I am a public employee as well. If I don’t do my job, people suffer. The same thing is true of law enforcement officers. If they sit on their asses in police cars, cruising men4now and adam4adam or wait on the side of the interstate for speeders, thieves and other criminals have a free ticket to rob, steal, and pillage through my shit.

As I have gone through this event, I have experienced a range of emotions. Shock, relief, disappointment, sadness, anxiety, and anger: all plausible reactions.

Parker has been supportive.

Friday, January 11, 2008

These fools done got me, shawty!


Yesterday my home was burglarized.

I came home from work, late as hell as usual and I noticed that my front door was open. My first instinct was, Damn… Did I leave the door open? I walked into my house and noticed that my television was gone. I was then like, Damn, because I left my door open, my television was stolen.

It did not occur to me that someone had broken into the house until I went into my ransacked bedroom and realized someone had broken into my home and went through everything I have in search of whatever was of value and they took whatever was of value.

My wall-mounted, 52-inch television, surround sound stereo, ipod, laptop, and ENTIRE DVD collection- all gone.

I feel violated. My home does not feel like a home at all, now. It feels like anxiety and apprehension and dread.
I asked Parker to spend the night with me but he told me he couldn’t because he had a job interview the next day and wanted to make sure he was well-rested.

Tuesday, January 8, 2008

New Year Follies


The new year kicked off with hilarity.

While we are nine days into 2008,I would be remiss if I did not share my New Year’s experience.

While many people across the country have made watch-night service an annual tradition for starting the New Year since 2000, this was my first year going to a watch-night service. I, along with some of the first family (Uncle Mallory, his lover Mitchell, Cousin Douglas, Cousin Rodeshia, and Double Dees) attended Tabernacle Baptist Church in Downtown Atlanta.

The service was lively and, while it should not have been, funny.

The church girls cut up (Cousin Rodeshia included). One girl even pulled out a homemade tambourine with mini-tambourines attached. Shake your tambourine, girl gone get your Jesus in!

Testimonies abounded.

“I just wanna thank the lawd for 2007. While it was a hard year, and lawd it was hard, I done made it through. My lights was off, my gas was off, and my water was off. I had to cut the water on outside down the hill every night after the water department closed and turn if off every morning before going to work. I done finally got my water back on, and praise God, I have not got no water bill in three months!”

While I understand and empathize with the financial difficulties displayed by this young lady (okay, it was a young man.. um.. er.. it was really a young lady) the fact that no water bill has been mailed in three months is a major problem. The Atlanta City water department is going to get him right together.

After church, I met up with Parker (who is somewhat opposed to organized religion) and we went to a house party off Cascade Road. The party was hot (especially since there were no other free parties getting any buzz that night) until the homeowner (a little drunk) started waving a knife and telling the kids to get the hell out of his house. To be fair, a drunken partygoer who was regurgitating in a black bag was the impetus for the party’s conclusion.

After the party, a group of us caravanned to downtown Atlanta to eat at an all you can eat diner where the gratuity was high, the waiter was slow, the manager was ruder, and the first family ruder.
All in all, the night was one hot mess and we all know how much fun those messes can be.