28 September 2012

The problem with bad guys

Two years ago, my friend's daughter was molested.
I was at the birthday party where much of this occurred. I met this man. I met his wife. I met his children. I didn't get any sort of creepy vibe off of him. Not a single internal alarm bell sounded. He was nice and normal and there with his own children who seemed perfectly nice and normal as well.
And he molested a little girl.
Right there.
At the child's birthday party I was attending with my son.
Intellectually I understand that I did nothing wrong in this situation. We were at a little boy's birthday party. I didn't KNOW that those little girls needed to be protected. I didn't know they needed to be rescued.
If I had known, I would have done something.
Of course I would have.
Anyone would have.
Everyone stepped in and did the right thing and this bad person is in jail and this sweet girl is being supported by her friends and family and is growing up to be good and strong and brave.
But I still feel guilty.
For being there and not doing anything.
I was there and I didn't do anything and I can't believe this thing happened to this person I love.
--
In August, a very bad thing happened to my best friend.
I didn't do anything wrong.
Intellectually, I understand that.
Just as I positively understand that SHE didn't do anything wrong.
The person who did something wrong was the man who raped her.
But I was there. I was there and I met that bartender and I told her I thought he was cute and I left her alone with him and nothing about him seemed off and I was never for a second worried about her until it was way to late to be worried.
I sat down in a booth to call a friend and fifteen minutes later she was covered in blood and white as a ghost.
And I know I didn't do anything WRONG.
I know that.
But I was there and I didn't do anything and I can't believe this thing happened to this person I love.
--
Everything you learn about bad guys leaves you with the expectation that you'll be able to tell who they are.
Something about them won't add up.
They'll leave you feeling creepy.
They'll LOOK like bad guys.
They'll ACT like bad guys.
The bad guys don't always look or act like bad guys.
I have been riddled by anxiety.
And mad.
I'm mad at that man and then I'm so ANGRY at our society and I'm mad at the detective who asked me, during my interview, "Does she do this often?"
And I was dumbstruck.
"Do what? Get raped?"
Fuck you, detective guy.
And scared.
I'm really scared.
And then over all of that I feel stupid because I have no business feeling that anxious and mad and scared when I'm sitting here whole and my friends are sitting next to me broken.
But.
Bad things can happen right in front of you and not only did you not do anything to stop it, you didn't KNOW that anything needed to be done.
I didn't know that anything needed to be done and I know that's not my fault and I know I didn't do anything wrong but that is absolutely terrifying.

I'm going to write a blog post about curtains.

The weird thing about stepping away from your blog is how hard it is to come back.
I want to tell you how infuriating curtains are, but to do that I would have to explain that I moved again, and if I'm telling you about how I moved I should probably tell you why and then I need to provide some job backstory and talking about my job brings me around to my social life and some very bad things have happened to some of my very good friends but none of that is my story to tell so I can't really tell it but it's hard to explain how anxious and on edge and FURIOUS WITH THE WORLD I've been without telling these stories that aren't mine and before I know it I'm shutting my browser down again because no one really wants to hear about curtains.

And this is probably true.

I doubt any of you want to hear about curtains.

Whatever.

The house I'm living in now is my first experience with moving somewhere that has no curtains or mounting hardware or anything whatsoever.

Do you know what I did not know?

Curtains. Are fucking expensive.

In order to get like, regular quality curtains and not super-janky rods/hardware for JUST my bedroom and the living room, that would be like...close to a $1000. That sucks.

I found some curtain rods on sale at Cost Plus, and I bought some cheap Target curtains that I don't really like that much and I spent....$300. On curtains for two rooms.  This is such a deeply dissatisfying purchase to make.  It's not like a new couch or a TV or something that I'm going to sit around and actively enjoy. I'm not going to gaze fondly at my curtains. I don't even really LIKE my curtains. I just like them more than the extra money I was going to have to spend to buy ones I like.

Why are curtains such a racket?

01 September 2012

September, September

My first week of "real work" was this past one.
I started on the 15th, but then there was lots of training and then an airplane to Sunny Orlando Florida to train some more. I don't particularly like Florida but even so there's something cruel about staying in a sunny resort hotel with an endless river swimming pool and sitting in overchilled conference room for ten hours a day, staring at a computer and pretending to audit a pretend company's financial statements.
I was glad to come home and snuggle the boy.

The boy started first grade this week.  He likes his teacher, some of his friends are in his class. My after school care thing is sort of ragtag at the moment. Hopefully not too latchkey-esque, but we single parents do what we've gotta do.

Oh yeah, real work.

By way of quick explanation, because I find some people need it, I'm an accountant, but I do not do taxes. I work in audit, which means that I'm one of the people going through companies' financial statements and books and such and saying, yes, they are making the money they say they are making and they have the assets they say they have and if you would like to invest in them, go ahead and rely on these. I'm way down at the bottom of that pyramid, but that's my general role.

My very first client was one that I got thrown on, as did everyone else on the team. It was supposed to be a quick cleanup job so they could file, and when I was handed my tasks, I stared at my computer and felt like weeping.

"Maybe I'm REALLY BAD AT THIS??"

As it turns out, the whole file was screwy and the things I couldn't find WEREN'T there. While that's bad for getting work done it was enormously good for my mental health. I was having an occupational crisis for like thirty full minutes on Tuesday.

I am hopefully halfway done with my CPA exams. I'm still waiting on scores for the second section I sat for. They should have been out a couple weeks ago. But aren't. I'm just going to assume that means I passed until I hear otherwise.

Next week I turn thirty.
I don't have any plans.
I mean, I'm going out tonight, but I don't have any ON MY BIRTHDAY plans.
I was sick all last week, which made me feel mopey, but now it's the weekend and I can breathe through my nose and I feel much more zen about the whole thing. I assume someone will probably remember to wish me happy birthday and hopefully no one will expect me to move mountains or anything.

Thirty.
Birdie, nerdy, purdy, sturdy, wordy, dirty, flirty.
Well okay then.