Kloey's blog: "Memoirs of a Bored Kloey."

Yeah. It's official. My brain has given up the ghost. Picture it. I'm curled up beneath a mountain of blankets, my head comfortably resting on my new pillow, which is exceptionally soft, mind you. Suddenly, my brain rips my body from its state of sleep and I spring to my feet, ready to make a mad dash somewhere. Skipping all the details here, I get ready for work only to realize that I'm working at the Village today and therefore I sitll have hours before I have to think about work.

So, this cat is hosting Happy Hour and he's telling me to wake the F up. The F needs sleep, too, you know? So, I have a new gentleman friend. He's seventy-seven and working on seventy-eight. He's quite an interesting character. I guess we have a "date", as he's promised to come down to visit me at work this Wednesday and Thursday...:D. He reminds me greatly of my Grandfather. I rather enjoy his conversation. There's much that I would say, but I find that I don't feel like expressing myself at the moment. I will continue to listen to music and chat with random, interesting individuals. I know. I'm easily amused.

I am so wretchedly alone in my new town/county. One of my senior offices chewed my bottom out the other night, as he said I'm too nice to the officers and that it could reflect poorly on the department. It was my own fault, though. I do say things such as "thank you", "please" "you're welcome", "my friend", and "sweety". Per this senior officer, I'm not to use any of that type of language with anyone in the department nor am I to initiate or encourage friendships between myself and any of the other personnel. He advised me to leave my "niceness" at the door. As such, I've sincerely tried to distance myself from the others. I only go to the gym now if it's empty. I didn't attend the party last night. I no longer ask anyone about their day. I try to refrain from speaking of anything that is of a personal nature. I find myself in a situation which I consider to be untenable. If I go against my senior officer, I run the risk of losing my job. If I continue to abide by his strictures, I will successfully alienate myself. The others, too. People have started to look at me as if I'm snobby... I just know that as it stands, I was already in a new place with new people, working more hours than I should, but even so, I had the others around the office to help gel that bit over, but that has come to an end. Honestly, it never once crossed my mind that treating people with common courtesy was justification for people to believe an inappropriate relationship may be brewing. The courtesy I extend to one is not limited by gender or sexual desire. It blows my mind that someone managed to arrive at that conclusion. I admit that I spoke more freely with those with whom I have worked the most, but even so, I say please and thank you to everyone, even people I diklike. I'm left wondering what to do about the people of whom I have become genuinely fond. There's an older lady named Terri whom I admire greatly. Previously, we'd joke and talk. We were in the process of alligning a day off so that we could go out and do something. Bryan is one of my EMTs. He's a charming and amusing companion. That kid always has something in the way of witty banter. Witty banter is good on the days when people die en masse or it seems like a million or more things are going wrong. Let's take last night as an example. I had a hit on a missing person out of Georgia. My officer requested a criminal history to be ran on the subject. Mind you, along with the original hit for missing person, a hit for a wanted person out of Florida was also listed. I couldn't help but pick up on the fact that the aliases and alias dates of birth listed for the missing person matched the wanted person. Last known addresses were both the same. All the major stuff was the same. I'm talking one or two minor differences (i.e. one letter off in the spelling of one of the middle names). So, I printed the documents, highlighted the similarities, took 'em over to my other co-worker, who promptly told me that I was wrong. It was not the same guy. Okay. I tried several different times before I just logged that I felt this was the same guy, but I was not allowed to inform the officer of such, as my other co-worker's word was final, as I'm still the "new" person. Now, let's talk about the criminal history. When I ran the subject, I found that he did indeed have a criminal history. I once again printed out my documents, noted the exact matches (FBI assigned number, state ID numbers, name, social, last known address, finger print classification, known tattoos/marks, date of birth, etc...) and took 'em over to my co-worker. He rather emphatically told me that it was not the same guy and that I should just let it go because he knew more than I did. Okay. I relayed my concerns to him several different times. Each time, he advised me I was mistaken. I logged my suspicions and made a note of the fact that he pulled rank again, which therefore placed the responsibility on his shoulders and placed the documents I had printed with the other documents pertaining to the case. While I was working on something else, he took my documents out, marked as a non-match and did away with 'em. I waited until he left, printed the documents yet again, and placed them in the file. This wouldn't have been an issue, but we can get in trouble for these types of mistakes and then there's the safety of the officers to consider. This subject's criminal history indicated that he was prone to violence, with several charges of assault and battery with the intent to kill. Add to that the fact that I had reports of gunshots several times throughout the night and the bit in which the subject's son advised me that his father was diabetic, in the early stages of Alzheimer's disease and was known to be combative and mayhap you can understand why I viewed it as a concern. It's on nights such as last night that I truly appreciate the witty banter of people like Bryan and Terri. Maybe I can pursue my friendship with these two completely outside of the office. I don't know. I'll figure something out. For now, I'm off to rent a video, as I haven't much else to do.

I'm twirling about, hair streaming down my back, as the ribbons flutter to the ground... A secret delight is my own! A radiant smile is my own! A life abundant is my own! All I'm trying to tell you is that today, life is good. I simply refuse to allow negativity to taint my girlish delight in life. I joyously dwell not in the past, but in the moment. The romance is no more, but will begin anew, as the potential of possibility is my own!

I'm still awake.

Would you believe that I'm bored, cold, tired, and blogging? I believe that you would, as it seems to be quite normal these days. I also feel somewhat sad, though I do not know why. Strange, eh? Ciao.

I'm afraid I may have managed to seem to be somewhat rude to one of my officers this evening, though in truth, I didn't mean it in such a manner. I finally decided to use some sick time, as this migraine that has been assaulting my senses for a few weeks now has started to affect my level of concentration. When it gets this bad, I try to avoid driving. I decided to make a go of it, however, as I had this awful suspicion that I would end up at the hospital with this one. Rather gallantly and courteously, one of my officers agreed to escort me home. I suppose I seemed to wobble as I was making my way to my car because he tried to convince me to let him drive me home. (Don't get your knickers in a twist, people. He's perfectly respectful.) I declined on the basis of my senior officer's admonishments from the other week and the fact that I didn't want to disturb my EMS staff in the event that I did find myself in need of medical attention. In any event, my officer did follow me home and we made it with no mishaps, thankfully. Walking up my walkway, my insides seemed to twist violently, bringing me to my knees as I reached my door. As I convulsed during my body's attempt to purge itself, my officer made his way to me, intending to help me. Without thinking, I threw my hand up, halting his approach and told him that sometimes, I would become nauseated with a migraine, but it was nothing about which to be concerned. It was almost as if I had splashed his face with icy water, as if he somehow suspected that I suspected him of something foul. I don't know. I'm not a good liar, even if I'm not telling an out and out lie. Maybe he saw a glimmer of remembrance flash across my features as I recalled the way things could be easily taken out of context. I can only imagine the response generated by the sight of one of the officers touching me, much less him carrying my convulsing body into my house. I tremble to think of some of the remarks people would make, some of the glances thrown my way... All in all, I'd say I was very wise to decline his offer of help, despite its innocence. The man does have a family and it would distress me greatly to find them being the object of such petty, stupid gossip. I have since had some juice, my medicine (Yep! I'm feeling perfectly loopy.) and lots of darkness. Now that the medicine has kicked in, I don't feel the pressure which threatened to expel my left eyeball from its socket. I don't really trust myself to walk or stand so much, but at least I'm at home. I'm less likely to find myself in a position far worse than a mere migraine. Moving on to things of a more pleasant nature, if all goes accordingly, I shall finally meet Bryan's family and some of his other friends. I can't remember his cousin's name, but she seems to be very nice. I'm looking forward to making some (hopefully) fast friendships with these various boys and girls. It'll be nice to have some new people with which to pal around. Ugh. I just noticed the way that sounds. I shall finally get to meet Bryan's family... I'm so heartily anticipating these new friendships that I'm speaking as if I'm some female he's had hidden away. You see? I may forever be tainted with a loss of innocence. It angers me that I've been forced to give it up for the mere sake of appearances. I should probably try to sleep or something before this medicine wears off and I'm able to fully appreciate the strength of this migraine. On that note, I shall bid you farewell, but before I go, allow me to offer my own admonishment: don't twist words and actions into something else, something of a darker nature. Don't murder the innocence of innocence.

Grrr. I had an invitation to go out with a group of people tomorrow, but I'll be sleeping so I can work all night. I could be hanging out with my new neat friends, but no! I'm going to be responsible and earn my salary. Well, the phone is ringing off the hook and it's work-related, as I'm at work. Quite possibly, I will blog later. Toodles.

On an island in the sun, we'll be playing and having fun... Weezer! Moving along. What the junk is this happy hump day garbage? What idiot decided to associate sex with that particular word? "Hmm. Sex. That's it! I'll call it humping!" "Hey, baby! Let's hump! Who's your camel? Who's your camel?"

Creeps! This is absolutely not cool. I blogged and blogged and blogged some more just for it to give me an error message. That's just mean-spirited 'cause they know I'm simply too lazy to type it all again. Shuckaroos! I'm lucky that I was able to convince myself to type it in the first place. It had all kinds of updates and whatnot. Sadly, these updates may never surface from the land of CT killed my blog entry. That's right, people. Bowling is so fun. Cooking is, too. Jose Jalapeno on a stick. Pablo of Little Tortilla Boy fame is not a handsome boy, but that cat's so funny that he's sexy. Don't ask how that works. It just does, man. The system was designed to be a flawless columbian grass green emerald, but those do not exist. Had some supposed drag racing last night. The Fast and the Furious became the drunk and the stupid. "u best b hangin' up dat dere phone or imma show u jest whut imma do 2 u." "Nah, g, i ain't hangin' nan up cuz i ain't 'fraid o' u. u iz jezt sum triflin'. I be whooped up on ur *ss. Take ere step, n*gga" Dude, I don't care how light or dark the pigmentation of your skin is, do not use any variation of nigger. Trading in that er for an a doesn't make it any less stupid. It's not cool. If you choose to use that word, don't be surprised if someone just as ignorant as you are uses that type of language in reference to you. I'm tired, grubby, disoriented/dizzy, and I have a migraine. Begs the question of why in the world I'm blogging yet again when I should be sleeping. I'd tell you, but then I wouldn't have any little secrets. P.s. Jim, of course we're still on for this weekend. You know you're my internet lover man person.