Tuesday, January 26, 2010



What an interesting place to visit. I wish I was back in 5th grade visiting the local court house. Not the case on January 26th when I made my 3rd appearence. Why do they even schedule a time? I made sure I was 10 minutes early for my 1:30 appointment. I sat quietly with my dad on one side and my attorney on the other. Finally, about 2:30 my attorney asked the judge if he would kindly call my case. I don't have a file on a Mae Roberts, he replied. Thank God, does that mean my case was thrown out? Ha! not a chance. Just another set of hoops for us to jump through. My attorney met breifly with the posecuting attorney and an agreement was made. Based on the evidence, the officer had no grounds to pull me out of the car and perform the field sobriety testing. That is good news right? The charge was reduced to a wreckless driving, the same charge you would get if you ran a red light. That is good news for my record, but they want to sentence me as if I was charged with a DUI. What that means for me is: $1500.00 fine, drug and alcohol classes and a minimum of 48 hours in jail. WTF! And, not to mention, the 120 day revocation still remains. The court system is backwards...

Sunday, January 24, 2010

The Pig Skin

As I contemplated my upcoming Sunday and how I was going to spend the day the last thing I would have expected myself to ask one of my co-workers was what time do the Vikings play tomorrow? His unsure response required a look at the local tv listings and when that was unsuccessful a call to my sister in the great state of Minnesota confirmed a kick off time. I understand that part of the sudden interest in the pig skin was my upcoming trip to visit my sister which happens to fall on Super Bowl Sunday. It would be extra exciting if the local boys were involved in the biggest sporting event of the year. I also understand that the interest comes from knowing that my day will be spent inside my small, humble abode in result of the recent sentence. So why not pop up some popcorn, snuggle up on the couch with the kids and watch football. People live for this shit...right? Go Vikings....

Saturday, January 16, 2010

Public Transportation

Public Transportation...

Today was the second day, in a row that I rode the bus to work. I found it very interesting how the clientele differed from one day to the next. Friday the bus was full of business men and women reading their books and papers, trying to capture just a few more minutes of filling their heads with information before they get to work. Saturday morning there was a much slower pace. The bus was still full, but with half asleep, or possibly still inebriated people that smelled of stale beer and old cigarettes. Maybe I should have thought of the bus before I hopped into my car after being at the bar.

I have to say, riding the bus was very convenient. I just walk literally outside my front door and catch one bus, ask the driver for a transfer (since I don't have a pass yet) jump on another bus, walk a couple blocks and I am at work. But don't worry, the mornings are cold and the air is terrible, so I still have plenty to complain about.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

This is for you Dad!

Selfless adj. Having, exhibiting, or motivated by no concern for oneself, unselfish

Selflessness, the act of sacrificing ones own interest for the greater good.

This describes the way my father lives his life. He is the definition of selfless. He has spent his entire life giving to others regardless of how it will effect his own.

So, to bring it back to my current situation, who else would I have called to bail me out of jail? My struggle came in knowing that the ride home would not be pleasant. My father is selfless, but he is not always Mr. Niceguy. I knew a lecture would follow. His eye would twitch. This trait was identified early on in my childhood and was always a sure sign I was is trouble. But in the end, I knew he would love and support me through anything. Now, my phone rings everyday with him on the other line checking in to make sure I got to work safely. Finding out when I have a day off so we can run errands together. Whether it be to the grocery store of course, I get his imput on what I should and should not be eating for dinner or to start my car, filled it up with gas, wash it and drive it around for a while to make sure it was alright. I can't thank him enough for all that he has done for me in my life (as if bailing me out of jail wasn't enough). What an amazing example to have. Now I am looking for a partner in my own life...Who will ever measure up?

I love you Dad!

Monday, January 11, 2010

Little Pink Houses

My "stranded" day turned out to be much better than I had anticipated. My daughter had gone off to a play date with a friend so it was just me and Luke. My plan was to stay at home and do laundry, instead Luke and I decided to walk up to one of the local strip malls, not on the freeway, of course. As we were walking we had great conversation, about school, movies and some random comments like: Mom, would you want to live in a pink house? Of course, I looked around to see which pink house he was speaking of, but there was no pink house. So I asked where that question came from. He answered, Just wondering. Interesting what goes on in the brain of a 10 year old. With that thought in mind I asked Luke what he thought about me loosing my license. It gives us a good opportunity to get some exercise. Was his first answer. I was suprised at this to say the least. My mind goes to the negative first, and his mind went to the positive. He continued on by saying that he thinks we should do this all the time, even when I can drive again. If it is not too far, that is.
That makes me wonder...Is negativity a learned trait, or are we born with it?

Sunday, January 10, 2010


The first thing I hear as my 10 year old wakes me up this morning is What are we going to do today mom? Still a little rummy, thoughts run through my head like: movie? grocery shopping? skiing? road trip?...And then reality sets in. I pull myself out of bed and begin to think about other possibilities. We could take the bus to the mall, but, wait- we live in Utah, and the buses don't run on Sunday (practically nothing runs on Sunday in Utah.) My son suggests walking to the mall and then asks, Mom can we walk on the freeway? We could take a taxi somewhere. God, I feel like a loser!

Maybe it is just a change in perspective. Instead of thinking that I am stranded all day here with a bored 10 year old, I could think that I am going to spend a nice quiet day at home with my son. That sounds a little better. I mean, I know plenty of people that have the ability to drive and choose to stay at home anyway. They take pictures of themselves and their dog. They make candles out of teacups. My parents rarely leave the house and they seem fine with it. My son did say to me I mean, it's not like we would go anywhere even if you could drive. A bit cynical I think.

So laundry it is. And when that is finished, watching movies with Luke. Sounds pretty good actually. Life is a highway, and we are going to ride it all day long.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Going Postal

My second day of walking, and I am an old pro: better shoes this time and much less clothing (bras still a must). It was amazing to me how good I felt when I got to work after a brisk walk. Exercise does help clear the mind. Maybe that is why this journey was much more contiplative and not just about evaluating the meaning behind my outdated playlist. What is the moral of this story? How do I explain this chapter in my book of life lessons. Heavy right? Thank God my mind wandered away from that as soon as I was kindly greeted by the local mail carrier, wearing shorts...What the hell is that about. His legs were as pink as the belly of a baby pig. Still feeling a bit sorry for myself, and grasping for some perspective, I began thinking about how much a mail carrier walks on a daily basis, and by choice. My curiosity on this subject haunted me through my shift at work. When I returned home I hopped online and pulled some interesting statistics to cure my 8 hour obsession.

Mail carriers average about 1906 steps per hour, 15,251 steps in 8 hours or 6 miles. Not as many as I would have guessed. Comparing it to my own situation in which I am walking 2.7 miles in one hour. I must be keeping a much faster pace- thank you, Justin! I feel so proud! Speaking of mailmen, why is it that there are so many adages in our culture about them: going postal, the mailman's baby and so on... walking seems to calm me down. I certainly didn't feel any need to whip out my AK47 and unload it. As for the lonely housewives waiting at the window with Fido for the next delivery, I think maybe, just maybe they have found their cure at the bottom of a prozac bottle (or that trusty case of jell-o.) Then again, maybe the mailman's knees weren't pink from the cold.