Tony

I think I've put this blog off for long enough.  I've been meaning to write on this topic since it happened, I guess I'm ready to deal with it.
A little piece of my heart is left in San Francisco, and will be there forever.  
My uncle Tony passed away on June 4.  He died doing what he loved, which was being a San Francisco fire fighter/paramedic.
I still don't know what went wrong, but a fire he was fighting went tragically awry and claimed his life and life of one of his fellow fire fighters, Lt. Vincent Perez.
Though he taught me so much while he was alive, he taught me so much more while he hung in there in a coma for two days and even when he passed.
I will never forget the phone call I received from my mom on Thursday, June 2.
It was a little after 1 p.m., and I had spent most of the day up to that point cleaning my desk.  Not willingly cleaning my desk, but that's a different story.
I usually freak out when my mom calls me between midnight and 7 a.m., so I wasn't expecting the subject and tone of her phone call that day, since it was such a normal time of day for her to call.
She was hysterical.  
Screaming.
Crying.
She told me to sit down.
I really thought my grandfather had passed.
She informed me that my Uncle Tony had been in a "bad fire" and was in ICU in San Francisco.
She barely could say anything else.  At one point I was yelling at her to calm down.  I didn't know what to do, so I told her I would do anything she needed, and she let me go.
I remember calling Lincoln's fire chief to see what I could do for my family.  I explained what happened, and he read an e-mail about a fire in SF.
He told me to just be there for them. 
I decided right then to get to my parents house before they left for the city, to be with them, because that's the only thing I knew to do.
I'm not a spontaneous person, so for me to just up and leave like that, not knowing when I'd be home, where I'd eat, where I'd sleep usually freaks me out, but not that day.
I called my husband at work, and briefly told him what was up and that I was leaving for San Francisco.
I abided by all traffic laws on the way to my house, crying, thinking about what to pack.
Brody was very confused by how quickly I flew through the house, gathered essential items: laptop, phone charger, sweatshirts, etc.
The drive that usually takes ten minutes from Lincoln to West Roseville took about five.
My mom seemed fine, we left.
I immediately took on role of little brother wrangler and regulator.
My dad took care of my mom.
We had to tell her to not log onto Facebook or news websites, because some of them were saying my uncle had passed.
When we got to the hospital, I told my family to not let on to the seven or eight news crews that were were family, or else they'd not leave us alone.
When we got to the fourth floor of San Francisco General, my grandparents and some aunts and uncles were there, as well as miscellaneous fire staff, including the SF Fire Chief.
We were so well taken care of, food-wise, shelter-wise and emotionally, by the fire department and police department.
For that Thursday night, Friday and half of Saturday, our base camp was the hospital, and we had a room for family and fire people.
We had food out the ass.
Bagels, bananas, apples, pizza, salad, donuts, Gatorade, chocolate, and lots, and lots of coffee.
There were a couple times our family was able to visit my uncle in ICU.
He sustained burns over 12% of his body, so he looked great, but his lungs were severely damaged after the flashover knocked him over, and at one point his heart had stopped.
I visited him twice.
The first time, my youngest brother and I went in.
It was tough.
My grandparents were in there, and they just looked shell-shocked.
My brother didn't really know what to do.
I talked to Tony.
I told him that it wasn't fair of him to leave us so soon.
I told him he had to survive, because he was in better physical shape than I am at 28.
I told him that we had just started to know each other as adults, and I wanted to keep that going.
I believe I also told him that the whole situation was fucking ridiculous, and that this wasn't supposed to happen.
I told him that our last phone conversation is the reason I'm a happier person, because we talked about being yourself and letting everything else fall into place.
I think that was Thursday.
I told him the same thing on Friday.
My family visited his fire station, Station 26 in Diamond Heights.
Our family was immediately embraced by his fire family, and I am so grateful to know his friends/family.
I'm so grateful for everything they did for us, and I'm happy we were there to support them to, because by allowing them to take care of us was therapeutic for them, I'm sure.
I'm very grateful for my Lincoln public safety friends, who were there for me when I called them at all hours of the night and day for support.
You know who you are.
On Saturday, the decision had to be made to let my uncle leave his earthly body.
The amount of blood pressure medication he was on, keeping him "alive," was not sustainable.
When he took his final breath, he was surrounded by both his genetic family and some members of his fire family.
We all said our goodbyes before he was taken off of life support, and most of us had a hand or finger on his body when he left.
I held onto his right foot.
I never want to see my grandparents cry again.
I never want to see my little brother or mom cry again.
I know that when he died, it wasn't goodbye forever, just for now.
But it still really sucks.
I bake bread now, and I can't ask him for tips and tricks.
I gave him some ciabatta I'd baked the last time I saw him, and I never found out what he thought about it.  I could have asked, but I assumed it would come up.
The shitty neighbors next door are gone, and that was a subject he was concerned about.
There's a for sale sign in the front yard next door, and I thought about what Tony would say when I told him new people could move in.
Can't do that.
I have some really good days, and I have some bad days. 
I would say today is a bad one.
I guess the biggest thing I've learned is that you can't really depend on tomorrow, you have to live today.
You need to tell those that you love that you love them, and those that you appreciate that you appreciate them.
Don't say no to trying new things, especially ones that scare you.
Grief does some messed up things to your family, and can bring out the best or worse in people.
Not everyone grieves the same way, and just because someone seems happy doesn't mean that they aren't sad.
It's sort of renewed my belief in God and Heaven.
I've met a few chaplains since he passed, one in SF and one in Vacaville, and I was comforted in their words, their prayers and the Bible passages they read.
I'm comforted by the idea that I might see Tony again one day.
I'm glad he made me laugh when he messed up the part of the funeral I was supposed to help with.
My cousin and I were supposed to bring the communion up to the altar, but someone had already done that.
I feel like he had a hand in that, just to remind me that he's looking over me and my family from his surfboard in heaven.
The funeral itself was amazing.
It started at 11 a.m. and wasn't over until 7 p.m., and that's not including the dinner that went until 10 p.m.
Fire companies from all over California came to the funeral and were included in a long, long procession.
My husband and I will always be grateful for our chauffeur to and from the city. 
The first few weeks after his death were definitely hard, but in a way there was a benefit, because it brought my immediate family and I closer together.
It was really nice to be with my little brothers 24/7 for awhile, because they are so much fun and are growing up great.
I think that's something Tony could be proud of.
 

New stuff soon

Wow, I've dropped the ball with this whole blogging thing.  I will update very soon with a photo blog type thing for everything that's been going on for the past few weeks with work and life.  For now, here's my favorites for the moment.

More to follow soon, but should probably go to bed since tomorrow is Tuesday.  Then to be followed by Wednesday.

My cake pop king.

Fun night!

"Can I go in the tower?"

Moo.

Bane of my existence.

Best photo ever!

More difficult than you would think.

Girls guide to crochet and shelving

Since "House" is currently pushing my Grossometer level into overdrive, I figured I would write until the gory stuff is over.   

Some sort of cold or flu bug is currently kicking my buns.  I rarely get sick, and if I do, I get over it usually within three days.  I started feeling the scratchiness in my throat Wednesday, felt pretty crappy Thursday and Friday and was somewhat down for the count on Saturday and Sunday.  Luckily, my boss is super cool and let me take off early Thursday, Friday and today.

Feeling better now, just experiencing the end portion of a cold with all of that coughing and snot goodness.

Mr. Bug didn't stop me from doing my Lincoln library volunteer training on Friday, though.

Having been a shelver at the Roseville Public Library, a lot of it was the same, but I did have to get to know the library's set up, shelving system and how to check books in.

I forgot how much I miss shelving.  I'm going to be a little rusty with checking books in, especially DVD's and audio books, but I'll get there in time.

Shelving, though.  There is just something so very relaxing, almost zen-like, about sorting books by author or dewey decimal system, and then slapping 'em up on those shelves.  I know I sound like an extreme dork, but I love it.

I "accidentally" got myself signed up for the Lincoln Women's Club.

I was interviewing the president, and she was talking about all of the different sub-groups the club has, like Mahjongg and scrapbooking.  I was all, "Hey, that sounds like fun.  Maybe I'll join."

Those words were my kiss of death.  I'm only partly kidding about that.  I'm looking forward to joining, and I've even agreed to be leader of the crochet group.  Our first project will be baby hats.  So, anyone woman in Lincoln want to join me, hit me up.  

They meet in this beautiful 80+ year old building on E Street.  Most of them are over 60, but they are the sweetest old ladies, and they all seemed super excited to have me join them.  I'm told there are others in their 30's, 40's and 50's.  I have not seen them yet.

Oh yeah, and we're gearing up for the Cake Pop Heroes stand.  More on that later.

Holy family, Batman!

There is something about the months of April and May that means hanging out with some branch of our family at least once a week.
Not that I'm complaining, but it truly shows how different each branch truly is, and it's something I've grown to appreciate over time.
For instance, last Sunday we drove to Vacaville for my maternal grandfather's 81st birthday lunch at a "popular" Mexican restaurant.
I made a beeline for the seat across from my dad and one of my brothers. I basically chose the boy end of the table.
As much as I like my girl time, boy time is very much needed for my sanity.
My side of the family tends to be very outspoken, and that was in full bloom last Sunday with my side of the table.
We talked about cars, public safety (one of my uncles is a paramedic/firefighter in San Francisco), speeding in cars and getting away with it (nice Dad, real nice) and raising chickens in the backyard.
The chicken conversation did take a turn for the worse.
"You don't name chickens cute names, you name them after ways you cook them. Come here, Broiled. Leave him alone, Seven Herbs and Spices!"
Some how we got into talking about hamsters and terrible things people do with hamsters, and we had the coolest waitress.
"You know, gerbils are better."
When I asked her to elaborate, she didn't have an answer for me, and someone told me I should research it and write a book.
I will pass.
Lunch was awesome, I enjoyed every minute of it, and hope we all do it again soon.
We attended a birthday party yesterday for my husband's little sister, and my favorite part of the whole day was picking out a birthday present for her.
In addition to the flower pot (complete with real flower) that I painted for her, we decided to get her a doll to help her cope with the impending birth of her little sister.
At Target, we headed to the doll portion of the toy department.
Little sis likes Disney princesses, and her favorite is Belle. We found some baby dolls that were like junior versions of Disney princesses. They had Aurora, Tiana and Ariel.
We chose Ariel, since there was no Belle, and there was a matching Ariel tiara that could be purchased separately. Prior to choosing Ariel, though, there was some discussion about the fact that she had legs.
Legs, not a tail. Hubs was the one who brought that up, saying that she was born with a fin, not legs. The doll doesn't quite match up with what is featured in the movie, since Ariel wasn't born a human, he says. We decided that was okay, though, and got it for her anyway.
We were the first ones to the party, and in the first five minutes of being there, little sis was a duck, horse, chicken and took me on a magic carpet ride. It was adorable.
The thing I love about hanging out with that particular branch of the family is that I think all of us, even the grown-ups, are all kids at heart, and like to have a good time.
We enjoy each others company, and aren't afraid to be goofy, like getting on the floor and coloring, and sending text-message commentary to one another.
I've also been a lot happier this week. I recently came to the realization that I need to remember to go with the flow more often, and make it a point to have a good time wherever I am. I've also decided that I'm going to say no more often, and not do every single little think anyone wants me to do anymore. This doesn't mean I'm going to be slacker, but my family (hubs, dog and future kids) is my number one priority, so if something conflicts with that interest I choose my family.
I've also decided to hold those close to me accountable for their actions. If you do something that affects me or my family in a negative way, I will tell you how I feel about it in the nicest way that I can. Life is too short to allow people "roll over" me.

Police Blog

Right out the gate, the first call was for a restraining-order violation on Eighth Street. Apparently, the woman filed a restraining order against her son.

Although it can be questioned whether or not she understands what that means.

She had let him in the house the day before at about 4 p.m., the cop said, and he left for work at 4 a.m.

She called the PD around 9 p.m., saying he was back and knocked on the door. She did not want to let him in.

We rolled up to the house, looking for his car, but he had already left.

Somnoplasty got back in the car, and rolled up next to another cop to talk, so naturally the owner of the home we were in front of drove up behind us and was uber confused.

Seeing no car, we drove around the neighborhood for a few minutes and then moved on.

While cruising around the East Avenue area, there was an area check of the VFW, since wedding guests reported “gang members that showed up and had words” with guests.

No gang bangers, sadly.

On the way back to the East Avenue area we drove past a black car, where it looked like a man was trying to get into a car.

We drove around the block some more, and went back to check on the guy about five minutes later.

He was in the car, with the lights on. I think he was even facing the back seat.

Scanning the license plate quickly, Somnoplasty typed it in and drove around the corner.

It came back that the plates were expired, expired in January, so he flipped a beezy and drove back.

Mr. Man in Car was gone.

He was, however, driving down the street with his lights off, as well as a laundry list of other things.

So he got pulled over.

During that process, Somnoplasty contacted dispatch to get some more information on the car’s registered owner, which was Slow-Mo.

That name sounded familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite place it.

Until dispatch reported back that the driver was known to carry a .38.

Then I remembered Slow-Mo, who in July, got hopped up on “central nervous system stimulants,” and shot up his house, garage and car before pointing a gun with a laser pointer at the cop who responded to the scene.

Right about the time she said he was known to carry a .38, I got really scared.

Not just for me, but for Somnoplasty, too.

Somnoplasty asked Slow-Mo to step out of the car, and led him to the passenger side.

He then asked him to put his hands on his head, and patted the guy down for various fun items like weapons and drugs.

Seeing none, Somnoplasty proceeded to the field sobriety test, since Slow-Mo fessed up to being on several prescription drugs.

Right around that time, Officer Rollover and Sergeant SpongeBob rolled up.

Since it was a DUI, the FST had to be recorded.

Tests included walking in a straight line heel to toe (not so straight), a one-legged balance test (not-so balanced) and that whole touching your finger to your nose test.

He failed.

He was cuffed and then put in the back of the car, and I was left alone in the car with someone who was stuck in slow motion.

He didn’t talk much, though.

It turns out, he was “allegedly” driving to Tower Mart, when he side-swiped a tree.

This happened over near 7^th and D Street, and he was pulled over near 8^th and E, I think.

I noticed the damage to the car the first time we drove by him, but Somnoplasty said he was paying more attention to the guy with the car.

After heading back to PD to exchange the Charger for a Crown Vic (sad) due to battery/computer/radio troubles, we were on our way to Sutter Roseville.

Apparently, since Slow-Mo was in a vehicle accident, he needed to be checked out at the hospital to be declared fit to be booked into jail.

When we got to Sutter, Somnoplasty’s shtick was pretty entertaining.

I guess when you have to lead someone into the hospital who is hand-cuffed and can barely walk, you need to have a little fun.

When we walked through the doors of Sutter’s emergency room, he told him he’d won the Price is Right, and when he sat him down in the doctor chair, told him they’d reserved him the best seat in the house.

When it was time to leave, he told him he was free to move about the country.

The humor was lost on our new friend.

The nurses and doctors assisted Somnoplasty and Slow-Mo right away, which could be because it doesn’t look great to other patients to have a cop and dude in handcuffs getting checked out.

They checked his blood pressure, temperature and asked what sort of drugs he had taken that day.

Then we were out, and up to the Placer County Jail.

You don’t need to watch Saturday Night Live when you are watching someone in drug-induced slow-motion getting booked.

The deputy (Nerd Glasses) asked him various questions, like, “Did you only get one set of presents at Christmas-time?”

At one point, Nerd Glasses asked Slow-Mo if he had any tattoos or scars, and Slow-Mo started to take his shirt off, until they stopped him.

Then Nerd Glasses asked if he had any track marks on his arms, and asked him to take his sweatshirt off.

He took both shirts off, and revealed tattoos of the century.

On his right “moob,” there was a bulldog, and on his left moob, there was a grim reaper.

It looked like the grim reaper was walking the bulldog, and that the reaper had a very care free look on its face.

Somnoplasty said he looked effeminate, and I said Mr. Reaper looked like a woman in a Virginia Slims ad.

Nerd Glasses told Slow-Mo he could put his shirt back on, which was priceless.

He sat there for a good ten minutes trying to figure out how to put it back on. He kept rotating it in his hands.

Somnoplasty described it as a Chinese finger trap, and I equated it more to a Rubix cube.

During the battery of questions, Slow-Mo answered the questions with an east coast time delay, according to another deputy (East Coast.)

Every time Nerd Glasses asked Slow-Mo a question, East Coast went “Uhhhhhh,” to be followed three seconds later by Slow-Mo going “Uhhhhhh.”

Due to the severity of Slow-Mo’s slow-motionness, another deputy (Braces) exclaimed, “He was driving?!”

Braces could not get over that fact.

After placing his shoes, wedding ring (gasp!) and other personal effects in a bag,

Slow-Mo had his blood taken, which Somnoplasty said will be deposited in the prop room and later sent to the DOJ for an analysis.

Poor East Coast had to deal with a 69-year-old man who shat himself while sitting in booking.

We headed back to Lincoln, at one point driving 100 miles per hour down I-80 .

I was terrified.

We headed back to town, and since it was 1:40 p.m. and I had a good 20 minutes left, we went back down Highway 65 for a DUI stop, but since SpongeBob had already responded for back-up, we headed back to the station.

We were almost there when Somnoplasty got a call for a man pushing a cart down Nicolaus Road. We started out going normal speed, but the other officer reported that the man with the cart was not being compliant.

Vroom.

I think we hit speeds of 80 while driving down Nicolaus, pausing for stop signs and stoplights with the blues and reds flashing.

Since the man wasn’t posing much of a threat, I was allowed to get out of the car and listen.

All I could really hear while I snapped copious photos was that he just really wanted to get some water, and remembered where there was a tap he could use.

Somnoplasty kindly told him that he was headed to Lincoln, where homeless men with shopping carts full of crap aren’t viewed the same way they are in Sacto.

He basically told him that if he didn’t want to be bugged by them, since lots of people would call in reporting him, he shouldn’t go into town

The man chose to walk to town.

All in all, a very interesting night.

Natural (and unnatural) disasters and me...

I would describe this past week as both wet and smoky.
It was one of those weeks where you try to plan for stuff, and those plans go buy-bye, which is okay, because as I thrive on action-y stuff. Like I've been told before, I'm "coffee-ready" or "copy-ready," can't remember which one it was.
Anyway, Thursday was insanity, weather-wise.
We have this tree at work that is on the left-side of our building, and it has super-shallow roots.
Combine that with the amount of rain we've had this month and the 40 mph winds gusting through town, the tree started to rock.
The roots started to lift up under the ground, and we could see the ground lifting up. It looked like there was a giant taking deep breaths laying under the ground.
My co-workers called the landlord, and I called public works. Turns out the tree doesn't belong to the city or to our landlord.
We basically hung tight for the rest of the day, after being instructed to call 911 if it toppled over.
Meanwhile, I'm out taking photos of puddles and downed trees, in the process, soaking the very un-weather appropriate ballet flats I wore that day.
I went home to put on better shoes and get a hat, and I'm there for about 30 seconds when I get a call for a tree that blew over into a house.
Luckily, everyone was okay, and the only pain I endured was dealing with a very sarcastic battalion chief (he was funny.)
I get back to the office, still pretty soaked, but okay. About an hour later, one of my co-workers receives a phone call from her hysterical sister.
"The sheep are drowning!"
In my town, like others in the area, we use sheep and goats to eat weeds and overgrown grasses in preparation for fire season, and to keep things looking pretty, to boot.
With all the rain dumping down that day, the poor little sheepers were up to their necks in water, but luckily their shepherd was able to herd them to higher ground, so there were no casualties.
I don't think I fully dried off until about 11 p.m. that night.
Fast forward to Saturday, had a pretty fun day.
I had the urge to just get out of Lincoln, and go do something fun, so Christy and I bummed around Roseville for a couple hours.
I took her by the Starbucks I first worked at in California, the same one where Andy and I met and fell in love.
I was pretty disappointed with the visit. It didn't have the same fun and friendly energy it had when I worked there, and I've worked there twice. Once from 2001 until 2004, and then again as an assistant manager from 2006 to 2008.
Both times were awesome, and I think there was that emphasis on taking time to get to know every customer, and to laugh and have a great time while working.
Oh well.
First we checked out Nice is Twice, a consignment shop in downtown.
We were there for two hours.
We did not buy anything.
I'm pretty sure the shopgirls wanted to check our bags when we left.
They did not.
Since, even for a consignment store, it was beyond my budget, I took to task trying on ridiculous clothing, while Christy was semi-seriously looking for clothes.
I tried on prom dresses and hats from the 1940's. I sort of have a thing for hats, especially if they are from 1950 or earlier. There's just something so elegant about that time period, because a lady never left the house without a hat and/or gloves.
Since we both didn't have a lunch budget, we took advantage of Whole Foods "try before you buy" emphasis.
I have to say, the Roseville blend olives were my favorite, and who know I had never tried cashews, M&M's and yogurt pretzels before? ; )
Next we hit the Antique Trove, and I think Christy realized just how much of a creepazoid I can be, because I kept finding the scariest items there, like a scary snowman and a clown that looked like he could have been Adam Carolla in disguise.
It was there that I realized I am too damn young to be too stiff to bend over and look at stuff, so starting Monday, I now run.
I don't like to run, but the happy feeling I get afterwards outweighs the suffering during.
That night, we went to dinner with Andy's grandma and mom, and went to bed thinking we had the next day off together.
We were wrong.
I will be the first to admit that getting me to do yard work takes lots and lots of arm-twisting.
So we were outside raking, weed-wacking and weed pulling on Sunday, when I heard sirens.
No big deal.
We live by Fire Station 34, and sirens are a pretty normal thing to hear.
After hearing more sirens than usual, I started to wonder.
Then I looked up and saw the plume of smoke that looked close enough to touch.
There I sat torn.
The reporter in me was like: smoke+fire=camera and notebook.
The wife in me was like, first day off with husband in awhile.
The reporter won, sad to say.
But boy, it was an experience.
I've never covered a fire live as it's happening, and I learned so much about what goes into a fire fight.
This may sound weird, but I sort of had a good time. I can't really explain.
I was out there for two hours, but I think the smoke permeated my brain, clothes, cell phone and camera.
I slept pretty well that night.
Last night was a blasty-blast, too.
Chris and Jenilyn hosted Gramin's birthday dinner, and it was nice to see the family.
Wow, I've rambled quite a bit.
Good night.

Spring has sprung

I've been inspired to start writing in this thing again after reading my bud Christy's blog this afternoon.
It's been quite some time since I've posted, almost two years, in fact.
A lot has changed since then. Well, only one thing has really changed.
I'm no longer a Starbuckian, I've worked full time for my city's newspaper, as the only reporter.
This last year and a half has been quite a ride. I've been turning out as little as eight and as many as 15 stories a week, which has been pretty crazy but has helped keep me a busy bee.
Andy and Brody make me laugh every day, I'm so glad to have those two by my side every day.
I'm quite proud of Andy. He's been going to school for drafting and will be finishing up this year. I'm glad that he's found something that he loves to do, because that is so important.
I would say most of the time, I love what I do. I have met so many awesome people over the last year and have been through so many different experiences.
I'm wondering if I should change the name of this blog. Samsel isn't my last name anymore, but a friend suggested that I use the name "Samsel in Distress," and how often do you find a play on words that faboo?
I'm going to try and update this thing at least once a week. After reading Christy's blog, and seeing how much history is contained there for her to look back on, and with all of the random stuff I deal with, por que no?