Wrap your head with this material...

I knew a couple in high school who claimed to still be virgins because they were only having anal sex. Every time I see a picture of her posted on FB, that's what I think of. I think my child is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I stare and stare at him and I could kiss my own lips right off on that forehead of his. I also think he looks just like me. BUT, I do not look at myself in a mirror with an achy lovey heart and think how beautiful I am. My neighbors shoveled a line in the snow dividing our two lawns yesterday. They're so fucking bizarre. I quit my job. I'm getting my house in order. Literally and figuratively. And I even use literally correct in sentences. It should result in more writing. And skiing. And feeling more like myself again. Which is good because I kind of lost me in a deep pit of self-doubt. I'm climbing out now though. Which involves being very poor, and hopefully, very happy.

I was going to quit blogging but I suck at quitting stuff. I decided to quit, thinking I'd make some decisions about my professional life or possibly put some energy toward attempting to get paid for writing, but I didn't do either of those things. Also, I missed blogging. So hopefully someone will still read this because otherwise I'm just talking to myself in written form. Which is not all that far from crazy. So, you ready for a ramblingly, random post of shit-I-haven't-spouted-since-I-haven't-blogged-in-weeks? Good. Here we go. At a training recently, the girl sitting next to me also had a 7 month old. What're the odds? Anyway, at one point she said, "Can I ask you something personal?" I held my breath preparing for a very personal question. "Are you nursing?" Really? That's personal? Since when? Last I checked I'm the girl you tell that you keep a dildo in your glovebox and like to be called "bitch" during sex. I'm ...

Got 2 messages from a client on my voicemail today. One said he thought I was back from "maturity leave." The other said he was glad I was back from "maternity labor." I love my job. Sometimes anyway. (but not as much as I love my kid. Its hard to be back at work. The silver lining is funny messages.)

Ever think about what rules you follow and why? I do. Sometimes I really want to break rules just because I'm in that sort of fuck-the-system mood. Which is weird since I work for the system. Sometimes anyway. I generally follow driving rules because I think they're based on safety and I'm scared of dying in the car. It seems like a really likely place for death. It certainly factored in to my decision to have a homebirth. I didn't want to put my 10-minute old child whose bones haven't calcified into a deathtrap and drive home. Just seems like dangerous to me. But then other people feel like its dangerous to have a baby at home. As in NOT in a hospital. Its such an assumption. Everyone just assumes they'll have a baby there. And that you'll have your baby at a hospital and that I'll have my baby at a hospital. But I'm not really planning on going to the hospital. I'm planning on pacing my house and listening to music and cutting up vegetables and...

Ever lay on the couch and watch crap for so long that when you stand up, your perception is all off and it makes your eyeballs feel funny? Like they're on sideways. I was at the police station today watching an interrogation and it was kinda like that. Only with more nausea involved. On account of the angle of the cameras and the weird way the digital images didn't flow but jerked. And the echo. En espanol. It was a little surreal. And nauseating. But I mentioned that. The deal is the guy was accused of touching a four year old. Which is why I was watching the interrogation. He denied it of course. Its no fair being four. Or three or two. You can't tell a story with a beginning, middle, and end. Its like your stories have their eyes on sideways and can't get out the whole in your throat. And none of us can be sure of your story when its all Alice-in-wonderlandy. The story's true, its just hard to see how the parts fit together. Cops want me to have t...

I'm mildly freaking out. I'm not really the call-the-police-on-people type. But my neighbors just keep having these awful fights. I hear them yelling, well mostly her yelling. Then there are these awful banging noises. And I don't know if they're throwing shit against the walls or each other around or what. I just get so anxious every time they do it. My hear trate skyrockets every time. It makes me shake a little. I can't sleep for worrying. The last time was very early in the morning. Maybe around 5 am. From my bedroom (which shares no walls with their home, I might add,) I heard what I would swear was a person falling down a flight of stairs. I went next door and knocked on their door. No answer. But I could hear voices. So I left. They were clearly both ok. The problem is I work for social services. And exposure to DV is child abuse in this state. And they have 2 little kids. And I just think, if I'm shaking because you're banging somet...

Today in court I recommended reunification for the first time. There are a lot of bad/sad/terrible/distressing stories I come across working child protection. This case was no different. Drugs, DV (to the point where someone was charged with attempted murder.) Lots of problems. It wasn't the kind of case that should see success at the end necessarily. But I pushed. And the mom tried. She really did. And I pushed. And today, it all worked out. At least for today. For today, I got to do something good for a family. And it felt really right. Every attorney in the room hugged the mom after the judge made his rulings. And she cried and cried. I held out. When I left, I thought I would but I didn't. She was still crying when I left. It was really, really moving. It was possibly the best moment in my professional career yet. And I just thought it deserved a moment to be written about before moving on to all the other tasks/investigations/meetings/phone calls etc. of...

This dad called me recently with concerns about his daughters. They're twins. His wife found them standing on a wet bathroom floor giggling. Sounds like normal twin girl stuff, right? The wet bathroom floor and the giggling was apparently because they were peeing on each other and thought it was hysterical. He did not think it was funny.

Really? I have to do this? The whole what'reyouthankfulfor? Fine, but I'm not going to like it. Here goes. Every year on Thanksgiving I go for a run. Always by myself, and always a wonderful introspective full lunged run. I love it. So I'll start there. My nephew, Collin and really my entire family of in-laws. A girl just can't get luckier. They let me cuss and be obnoxious and weird and have my wedding my weird way and be a ski bum or a writer or a delinquent or a teacher or a social worker and not only accept me but seem to like and be proud of my quirks. But back to my nephew. My family's all girls. And I'm a busy girl. I like to run and play and rough house. He does too. We went to the City Museum yesterday and played and chased and ran ragged. I'm glad I get to have a relationship with him where we do that. Get each other. His dad and my husband stood around holding coats and meeting up when and where we were supposed to. I'm thankful for them doin...

Each Wednesday I post an example of a strange person, or group of people that I've encountered, been told about, or read about. Guest submissions are welcome and can be sent to swedishskier@gmail.com For those of you who don't know already, I work for Social Services mostly in child protection. As in any place, drugs are a huge issue for our work. And so we're constantly having clients do UAs to determine if they're using or not. They're typically placed on a color line and call a phone number daily to see if their color is up and if it is, they go piss in a cup. Its a little weird in generally, pissing in a cup, for any reason. But its especially weird to begin to associate non-yellow colors with pissing and furthermore with drug testing. But whatever, that's how the system works. Weirder still is the ways drug addicts come up with to get around these tests. I'm not talking potheads with their "cleanses." That shit's for amateurs with relative...

I'm at a Children's Advocacy Center waiting to meet with a guy. We're sitting at this table and I'm doing a crossword when I overhear this man telling a story. A natural eavesdropper, I practiced my talent. So this guy, right? He hears all about how you can pick up prostitutes on Craigslist, right? Rather than just thinking "That's crazy," like the rest of us, and moving on, he's thinking "that's great." So he decides to look into it. He picks out this one chic on there. He checks day after day, week after week for months! To make sure this broad's legit, right? He's pretty convinced she's the real deal so he contacts her and sets up her services, if you will. He shows up and instead of getting laid, two guys show up, beat the shit outa him and rob him. The story doesn't end there, though. This guy! This guy gets in his car, drives all the way across the city and calls the cops. Yeah, I know you're thinkin...

I was at a meeting on Thursday where 3 awesome things happened. 1. There’s this dude on the committee who I always listen to and can’t put together what its reminding me of. Finally figured out he sounds EXACTLY like John Wayne. Its really, really funny when he starts a sentence with “Well.” Especially when what he says after the "well" is very unwaynelike. 2. A couple of guys from Buildings and Grounds saw us meeting and knew who every member of the group was. (We were sitting outside.) So he turned the ONE sprinkler on that he knew would hit us. 3. I found out that if you put a dead horse in the landfill compost, in 30 days all that’s left is its femur. In 60 days its gone. In other news it’s the last day of my 20s today. 20s, You’ve been fucking awesome. Thanks for all the crazy stories and important lessons.. You can keep your heinous hangovers. Thanx, Swedish Skier

This is too crazy/me-being-stupid a story not to tell. I was in a crazy good mood yesterday. I wanted to play in the sun all day and drink and make friends and cause trouble and and and... I did. I went with a coworker to the Frisco BBQ where we met up with another coworker, Mickey. There, I drank way too much. I was in such a good mood that I didn't notice that I drank way too much. So, when my coworker, Mickey, invited my husband and I to go to a party afterwards I thought it would be a good idea not only to go, but to buy more alcohol before going. Keep in mind that I haven't really started any trouble yet. Soooo, we go to some friends of Mickey's where I feel the itch to start trouble. Rob's downstairs being talked into a motorcycle, which I also think is a good idea. I tell him we should spend our down payment money on the motor cycle instead of buying a house. Mickey tells me this is a bad idea and I head upstairs. NOW, what I think is a good idea is rock...

"drink several beers while you're on call. Then brush your teeth with whiskey" "I want to start a band called "Fuck you _______." It'll be a Christian rock band, of course. " "Wondering if a mandate of Dirty Thirty should be mud wrestling" "Knowing me, I'd break a bone and everyone'd hear it and be all grossed out and then my wound would be infected cuz I'd be in MUD. I have terrible ideas sometimes." "that's why you wrestle in chocolate sauce instead of mud, but what would I know, I don't do stuff like that ;)" "I think its a different kind of dirty... the kind that doesnt wash off" "I think my party just got WAY more interesting either way!!!" "You know how to use trashbags and a hose." "Grief is like the ocean; it comes on waves ebbing and flowing. Sometimes the water is calm, and sometimes it is overwhelming. All we can do is learn to swim." (Vicki Harriso...

I may be taking a break from blogging so as a sendoff I'll tell you about a recent dream I had. I have been working on a very violent case where the dad's in jail for what he did to the mom. So I've never met dad, but was reading a police report before bed, (never a good idea) and dreamt that I showed up to check on the dad at his house. The police usually come with us the first time we meet families but they were late. I decided to go on in without them. The dad gets mad and throws me against the wall by the throat and holds me there. My reaction: "People don't treat me like this." I said in a I-can't-be-bothered tone. "I'M A NICE PERSON, DAMNIT! People laugh at me cuz I'm funny, THEY DON'T HOLD ME AGAINST THE WALL BY MY THROAT. Now, cut it out." He let go of me and the worst part was that I had to tell the police what happened when I went in without them. I then had to explain to him that I would have to press charges, a...

I got a message today from a client's mother letting me know that her 25 year old son was sick so he missed his UA. Seriously? I had to return that message with one of my own, trying my hardest not to sound incredibly bitchy and condescending to say, "It really isn't appropriate for you to have your mom call me. Its very important that you show up to do your drug testing and if you need to miss, YOU need to call." When what I really wanted to say was, "Take your tail out from between your legs, become a man, get out of bed, and go take your damn drug test! What, do you have your mommie call you in to work sick too? GROW UP! You've got to be a parent for Fuck's Sake!" The best would have been if I'd had MY mom call him back. I can just imagine, "This is Dr. Harvey, Karin's mom and she just wanted me to let you know that you need to take your drug test unless you have a doctor's note." If only...

So the other night I got paged while on call for Social Services and had to go to the police station to assist with an investigation. I was there until very late. As we wrapped things up, I said, "Alright, ya'll need anything else, cuz I'm gonna take off?" One particularly cheeky officer said "No way. I'm afraid we'll need you to stay for at least a couple more hours to help sort all this out." My brilliant response, "No way narc."

Early this morning, I picked a client up from jail, took her to see her kids, then to in-patient drug treatment. It sounds so stark, but it was really such a beautiful day. It was a warm, blue-bird day and I'd worked really hard on getting the details together to make this happen for my client. She would've had to stay in jail and not see her kids or get help without some serious coordinating of parole/judge/treatment/family. I pulled into the jail parking lot just before they opened and my client was excitedly watching me from her cell window, anxious to get on the road to see her kids. The last time I'd seen her she was balling and most of the times I'd seen her at all she was skinny as a rail, and she just looked, well, sad. She was self-medicating (i.e. taking a lot of drugs so as not to have to face all her problems instead making them worse.) She looked unhealthy and cried a lot. She basically said the only reason she hadn't killed herself was because of...

Why yes, yes he did. Muskrat sent me the following rules, which I will likely disregard 1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me." 2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions. 3. You will update your blog with the answers to the questions. 4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post. 5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions. Then, he sent me the following questions which I may or may not answer as I see fit to make up or avoid cuz its my blog and I'll lie if I want to. Its called "creative license," look it up. 1) Where do you find your Friday quotes? Real life, blogs, both? In Sweden, live little men called Tomtes, (pronounced tom-tahs,) They have beets for ears and live exclusively by hunting mushrooms. They are fueled by a vicious hatred of being confused with yard gnomes and therefore travel all their days, murdering and behead...

I'm just getting back from Adult Protection Services training. I do not have the attention span to sit still for more than about 8 minutes, unless I am reading a novel, playing the piano (wait that's not still,) or writing (also not sitting still.) Ok, so I can read, but that's it. Instead I made pipe cleaner imaginary animals with the lady sitting next to me and thought of names for them. This is Bjorn. This is Romulus, his trusty steed. Sadly, Bjorn's head was too big and heavy for him to ride Romulus. So we made him Steve. Steve is strong for his frame and has wings. I tuned back in for a minute while we were discussion what to do with Mr. Smith. Mr. Smith is losing his appetite and is also losing weight as a result. His wife passed away 5 years ago and his social life has suffered. We were to come up with services. "Our group wanted to get him meals on wheels." "Maybe you could get him one meal a day at the senior center." "But what if...