RID test results

My husband didn't notice the gasp that escaped me as he continued his conversation. I was trying to listen - I really was! But, as I spotted the envelope with the blue circular emblem on the coffee table, I knew nothing else. It was just me and the envelope, the envelope that held my destiny.

I'm a sign language interpreter that has entered through the 'back door', so to speak. I didn't attend an interpreter training program. I just learned through a few classes and some deaf friends. And here I am - interpreting for a living!

It's been a struggle because I don't have the paper stating my worthiness. You see, if you don't have a degree in interpreting, you're not a CODA (child of a deaf adult) and you're not certified, well then. . . you're not worthy!

So, it has been my endeavor to become nationally certified. I took the test last May and have been trying to forget it ever since. It's an extremely difficult test, but I thought I tried my best and was happy with that. And now it seems as though this simple piece of paper has been carelessly tossed onto the coffee table, my husband unaware of it's importance.

He continued to talk and I waited patiently.
"My sister. . new car. . .Thursday. . . Yankees. . .Manhattan. . . want to go?"

"Sure, yeah. Sounds great." I pick up the envelope and finger the edges deciding I will open it upstairs where he can't witness my pain, but before I know it I'm tearing into it. I read quickly but intently, scanning for the main point of the letter. Did I pass?

"We deeply appreciate your patience. . ." (doesn't sound good so far) ". . . rated by an approved team of trained raters. . .Your videotape was DEEMED NOT TO MEET THE ESTABLISHED COMPETENCY LEVEL NECESSARY TO AWARD CERTIFICATION." (caps added by me) They might as well have written, "You are not worthy to exist on this planet, but thank you for coming."

Gasp. Sound of heart wrenching and stomach digesting itself.

Okay, I shouldn't be too shocked at this point. Afterall, I didn't think I was ready to take the test yet. Then, I continue to read . . .

Ratings are on scales of Low, Moderate and High.
My ratings were as follows in all eight categories: LOW

I don't know what to do with myself so I put down the letter and go clean the kitchen. Okay, rethink, Sam. What are you going to do with your life? Go back to school? Change careers? Steal someone else's baby and be a stay at home mom? Hmmmm. . .

I check my e-mail and end up contacting all my interpreting buddies for advice. Everything seems to echo LOW. My battery icon pops up LOW battery. My wireless icon reads signal strength LOW. I decide to go to bed to sleep my misery away.

The next morning, I'm still alive and it wasn't all a dream. I wipe the sleepy crust from my eyes and mope through the house in my hangover of self pity. I decide something has to be done to pamper myself, forget my woes. But, what to do? My usual self soothing strategies include cutting my hair, getting a tattoo, eating chocolate or shopping. (Of course, chocolate is a given!)

Since my hair is already too short and my husband would kill me if I got another tattoo, I decide to go shopping! And there's no place I'd rather be on a rainy day than Barnes and Noble. Before I head out the door, I unwrap a piece of dove dark chocolate and pop it in my mouth. The wrapper reads, "Test your own limits and keep going." Hmph.

I enter the beautiful utopia of books and magazines, coffee churning in a far corner. I'm in heaven! I love this place. It's the most self soothing place I could be.

I locate the travel section and am delighted to find The Little Black Book of New York. Oh my gosh! It's got all the information you need to get around in NY, including nine fold out maps! I pick it up and while I'm reading Where to Shop in Midtown, I hear, "I GAVE YOU A TWENTY AND TWO DIMES!!!!!!! I DID!!!! I SWEAR ON MY CHILDREN'S LIVES!!!! (Sob, gasp) PLEASE! I CAN'T TAKE THIS!!!!! IT'S NOT FAIR!!!!" (sob)

I peak behind a row of books and feel guilty for staring, but how could you not? I hear the cashier say, "Mam, I'm calling the manager. Just calm down."

"NO, I WON'T CALM DOWN!!!! YOU KNOW THAT I GAVE YOU A TWENTY!!!" Sobs woman in mental distress. I consider that maybe she has Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder, she's menopausal or perhaps she has postpartum depression.

A young Asian man walks by me. "Cry baby." He sniffs.
"Don't say that!" I protest, but not loud enough. Although, I have never had a complete mental break down in public, I sympathize slightly with her because I've felt that crazy before. I just didn't vent it to a room full of snobby book worms.

I decide to take my merchandise to the back of the store and peruse the calendar section and various books I don't intend to buy - just in case she has a gun. If she did, I have no doubt she would have used it. So, I hide.

Amongst all the chaos, I realize that maybe my life isn't so bad. So what! I failed a test! I can always take it again. I'm just glad I have my mental faculties in place, and I'm not experiencing a meltdown in front of judgmental strangers.

I continue from there to the mall where I buy the quintessential black dress and some socks from the gap. Ahhhhh. . . feeling better already. Yes, life is not that bad.

A warning for pet owners

We have a beautiful fenced in yard at our new house and from time to time our sweet little kitties are let outside for some supervised play time. They love to chew on the grass and hop along the bottom edge of the fence looking for a hole by which they could escape.

Our neighbors, who have a dog, have advised us that our area is prone to ticks. Their dog will return home after a period of romping in the woods with a few ticks. So, they have taken precautions and used a squeeze on gel that you put between the shoulder blades of your pet.

Although my cats only walk in the well mowed lawn of our backyard and do not romp through the woods, I thought it would still be a good idea to take protective measures.

I went to our local PetSmart with a list of kitty needs, one of which was flea and tick protection. I perused the unfamiliar aisles until I found the overabundant selection of flea collars, gels and sprays. Finally, I picked up two - one organic and one not organic. Holding up the two boxes, I inspected their labels for ingredients and usage. It was in this stance that I stood for the next fifteen minutes until a salesman came over and asked if I needed help. He must have seen my confusion or perhaps he thought I was trying to shoplift. I'm not sure.

After much discussion, he assured me the organic would be fine if that was my preference, that it was safe and that it should perform the same as the nonorganic product. I bought the organic (Sentry Natural Defense).

A few days later, at around 10:30 at night, I decided it was time to apply the squeeze-on gel to my little sweeties. My husband held kitty number one while I parted the hair and squeezed. At first, she jerked and soon after bolted through the house like she was on fire. I watched in horror as she licked herself and jumped around, tongue hanging out.

This is where I'm not too smart, but I thought - what one cat gets, the other cat gets. We grabbed baby number two and in the same way, applied the fiery gel to her back. Likewise, she ran through the house, tail twitching, eyes bulging, tongue hanging out.

We watched the two of them, out of control, as they experienced the torture we inflicted upon them. As we watched, their suffering increased. They were panting, racing around, hiding, licking, jumping and drooling. My heart broke to watch my two little ones in such pain! I had no choice but to call the emergency number on the Sentry box. The operator asked me about their symtpoms and instructed me to drain the juice from a tuna can, dilute it with water and let them drink it. Well, as someone who hates seafood, I had no tuna in my pantry.

Not much is open at 11pm except our local CVS store. I walked frantically into the store and asked the closest clerk, "Do you sell tuna?"

"Oh, yes. It's in aisle 14a." He replied.

You've got to be kidding me! CVS sells tuna? I offered a quick thank you to God that I didn't have to drive all over town to find a store that was open after hours and sold tuna. I drove like mad back home and quickly did as the operator had told me.

Our kitties loved it! And I have to say, it did work quite well. However, I still saw how frustrated they were everytime they licked their backs. (They can reach quite far. Flexible little critters they are!) After about another hour, I decided I had to do something. I had to give them a bath.

Now, if you've ever tried to bathe a cat, you know that it doesn't work. Cats don't like water. It's not like I didn't know this. I just didn't think it would be so hard.

I shut the bathroom door, got a pitcher, pulled back the curtain, grabbed the closest cat and prepared for a battle. She was strong, but I was stronger - or should I say 'smarter'? When she had clawed her way out of the bathtub for the sixth time, I decided to move the rug and pour water over her on the floor.

Once both of them had their bath, were towel dried and my heart was thoroughly broken, I set about going to bed. By this time it was 1am, and the house was filled with the smell of fear and this organic toxin that reminded me of those hot cinnamon hearts you eat at Valentine's day - but more potent. I had learned my lesson. Sometimes organic isn't better and I will never apply this poison to my kitties again!

Resources for writers

I receive a writer's newsletter every Sunday with a different writer's excercise. I decided to follow the link to it, and I came upon an interesting website that I thought I would pass along to anyone out there serious about writing.

The website is http://www.coffeehouseforwriters.com/index.html. Coffee House for Writers offers classes (for a reasonable fee), motivation and information on writing contests. You can also find other websites such as Morningside Writers (http://morningsidewriters.com/), a site for those really serious about writing. You actually have to fill out an application for review before you are allowed to join. There is an opportunity to search the Writer Buddy Classifieds to find someone you can share your work with, as well.

So, if you are having writer's block, maybe you can spend some time searching around this site or any others it might lead you to. Happy writing!!

World Trade Center

My husband and I went to see the movie, World Trade Center. I was reluctant to see it for obvious reasons. I didn't really feel like getting depressed. Who really wants to relive one of the greatest tragedies of our time? But, my husband assured me, "No, this one has a message of hope!" Okay, fine. I'll see it.

I have to say, it was well done. It was a true account of two police officers who had been through hell trying to save others. I was on the edge of my seat wondering what they were getting at. Was one of them going to die? Was this story told from the survivor's perspective? I cringed watching the emotional battle that the wives and families went through. Through most of the movie there was a tennis ball in my throat screaming to let loose. I was uncomfortable at the thought of the anguish that these people went through awaiting word of their loved ones fate. By the end of the movie, I was wiping tears off my chin, and it wasn't just me! I heard sniffles echoing around the theater, and could see that the eighteen year old next to me who had been text messaging at the beginning of the movie was now also wiping tears off her chin.

As interesting as it was to me and many others to understand more deeply what actually went on in the lives of those closely linked to this tragedy, I had to wonder - what about the families of the deceased who watched this movie? How do they feel? Does it help them to see this tragedy played out on the big screen? Does it drive a knife through their heart to see people walk away from that disaster while their loved one did not? I have to wonder.

The Trees

Just a little something I wrote as a homework assignment for a writing group.
Assignment: Write about a tree and describe your experience with it and your feelings for it. I combined different experiences into one tree.

THE TREES
The melting sun kissed the leafy branches as I looked up to its mossy structure. It towered over me strong and tilted slightly, like a father expecting me to jump into his arms. We had just finished dinner and as usual, I made my nightly climb to rest in the solace of the friendly oak, daylight still clinging to the leaves silhouetted in the evening sky.

Here I would ponder happiness, the meaning of life, boyfriends and God. It’s where I would sit with Suzi Paradise when I explained to her that she couldn’t say, “So?” to my parents because it was rude. It was also in these arms that Chelsea tried to explain how babies were made. It was this tree that heard every naïve conversation. “You just lay side by side. That’s it. You gotta baby!” She said knowingly.

And it would be this tree that would give me up to the earth as I plummeted with a smack, knocking the wind out of me. My brother would pick me up and run home with me. My protector.

The following year dad would build a tree house that rested comfortably in the mighty braches. I would listen from a nearby window as hushed whispers drifted on the wind and laughter rose and died in waves. My brother was having a friend sleep over. They were allowed to spend the night in the tree house. I was not. Jealousy clung to the walls of my stomach like acid.

Sometime later, when my grandfather died, Uncle Paul would wack the tree with a baseball bat again and again, his rage permanently disfiguring the trunk. I watched from my window and wanted to stop him, but the world was filled with so much sadness that needed to escape. I just buried my head in my arms and rocked back and forth until I fell asleep.

In the coming years that tree would stoop and sway like an old man paralyzed and forgetful, it’s leaves shedding early. I would return as a married woman standing at the base of that tree, stroking its rigid bark and playing back the years in my mind, a haunting and innocent time. Some of the branches had broken off, but the sad little tree house still remained a permanent fixture, yet also faded, like memories.

Northern Snobbery

Ever since we moved to the North - okay, I was in the North before, but this is really North now - I've noticed something. People are quite unaware of the world that extends beyond their noses! If it doesn't concern them, they don't want anything to do with you. If your shopping cart is coming dangerously close to theirs, that's okay - as long as they get to pass first. There is no - "Oh, please, you first." OR "Excuse me."

Well, I was at the store today and a little incident just about set me off. As I usually do, I judged several check out lines and picked the one I suspected would be the fastest moving. And as luck would have it (because I have the worst), I got in the longest, slowest moving line. And ya' want to know why? It's all because of a horty-torty woman with no social etiquette.

I unload my cart and pick up a magazine. There are two older ladies in front of me. The first one is being checked out and during the process answers her cell phone. "What?! What?!" She yells because apparently she is getting bad reception or someone didn't want to talk to her after all. She hangs up and it rings again. This time the connection is good and she ensues a long and loud conversation while checking out. However, she pauses to talk at the end of the aisle, completely stopping the whole works! Now, five people are behind me. She only breaks from her conversation to tell the cashier to bag her groceries for her at which he rolls his eyes.

She finally swipes her credit card, but doesn't push the yes button. The cashier points so as to signal her to do so, but she is too involved in her conversation to notice. He finally reaches over and pushes it for her.

When she has signed her credit card slip, the cashier moves on to the next customer who is directly in front of me even though "Socially Inept" has yet to place her bags in her cart. He seems mildly annoyed. I'm glad.

What takes my blood to boiling is when the above mentioned Inept mouths to the cashier while holding up a card, "Oh, I forgot to pay for this." He takes the card from her and waves it my way while arching his brow as if to say, "Is it okay with you if I just let her pay for this so she can be on her way?" Remember, she is still on her cell phone. I just shrug and look away before I act on my instinct to grab the stinking cell phone from her and throw it into the produce section.

The thought, 'what would Jesus do?' did not exactly enter my thought process, but I am now drumming my fingers and biting my lip so that I won't make a scene or say something I will regret. I am fairly proud of myself for not blowing up.

I wait until Lady Rudeness has walked away and then I say to the cashier, "Next time, you really need to tell her to go to Customer Service to pay for that! It's just rude and she has no social etiquette!"

The lady behind me chirps, "Let me tell you - you have a lot of patience! I wouldn't have been able to hold my tongue!"

The cashier chimes in, "Well, I DID ask you if it was okay if she paid for the card."

At this point, I'm no longer sweet and tolerant. I say, "And if I screamed and pitched a fit and said, 'no, she can't pay right now. She's done!', what would you have said? Would you have really listened to me?!"

He kinda stammered and didn't really answer. Then, he said, "Yeah, I should tell her to go to customer service next time."

Oh man! It just seems that I've witnessed more people that have a lapse in social judgement lately. People don't look before they leave an aisle. They just pull right on out without thought if someone else might be coming that way. I find myself contantly creeping around corners, not wanting to ram into someone. And the cell phone thing - come on! It's rude and no one wants to hear your conversation especially when it's holding up the check out line.

I know, it's not just the North, so before you get upset by my comment, remember that I recognize that. But, can't we all just have a little more thought for others? I'm not saying we have to move like snails and say, "Howdy ya'll!" I'm just asking for a little courtesy. Recognize that their is a world beyond your own.

Writer's Meetup

Well, how disappointing! I had planned on going to a very intellectually stimulating conversation combined with some critique of my writing. I did the homework assignment (describe a tree), which apparently no one really does. I had quickly and frantically (because I was running late) printed out eight copies of my work for the eight people that had RSVP'd to this function. Yet, I show up to find no one who seems to be apart of our group except perhaps for one guy that is creepily staring at me from a corner table. Eventually he makes his way up to me and asks, "Are you part of the writer's group?" I, of couse, say that I am and we hang out until one other girl shows up. The three of us sit there complaining about the lack of show and they fill me in on the sparse degree of talent and commitment of the group. I'm disappointed. I had skipped dinner and ventured out into this lonely world I call NJ, surroundings I am totally not feeling one with yet. I'm telling you, these roads are messed up!! Anyway, we sat around for about 15 mintues and then decided to go our separate ways. Obviously no one was showing up. So, my excitment for a little literary encouragment has fallen flat. Oh well - guess I'll have to find my "push" somewhere else.

The Literary Circle

OMG!!! With just a little time and research, I have answered my own question. I have found a wealth of information on the NY writing circuit. In fact, there are writing groups meeting 10 minutes away at a Barnes and Noble!! Wow! That is just fantastic! I must have spent half of my day perusing the Writers meetup site (writer.meetup.com). There is so much info on there that my head is spinning. I signed up to join the NY Writer's Circle so you'll see my little face on there. (Normally I wouldn't post my picture, but I was feeling bold today.) I am so happy to find a community of people that share my interest in reading and writing and a way to get out and mingle. I feel like such a hermit these days. But, tonight, I'll finally be getting into the city. I am going with my husband to a bar where our college friend, Andy, is performing.

Writers workshops and the like

Well, the adjustment has been good but slow in our new little corner of the universe. I really like it here. We are close to Manhattan, I don't have a job yet and well. . . I'm dying to go into the city. But, I'm also scared to death! That's quite a haul! I got lost yesterday coming home from an interview (20 minutes away) that didn't happen - interviewer called out sick. Have to reschedule. So, anyway, the thought of getting to Manhattan scares me just a bit.

My husband just informed me that he'll be out of town a lot next week, and I thought how great would it be if I could find something stimulating to go to like a book signing or a writers' workshop or a poetry reading?! Does anyone out there know of anything like that in the Manhattan area or how I could find out about them?

I just set up my little desk off of the family room. So cute. Rustic. I love it! I've decided whether I write for myself -or- write for myself and make money at it, it doesn't matter - as long as I'm writing! It's just a creative outlet for me and that's quite needed.