I write for money. I'm broke a lot.

Also? Colin Firth could get it.


Gmail me at ccr002

Find me on Twitter at cloudyarecinos

 

Thank you

Thanks to everybody who donated, reblogged, sent kind words, or even thought encouraging thoughts.

When I posted about my dad, I was expecting a couple of people to kick in a few bucks. I WAS NOT expecting such an outpouring of love and support.

No matter what I say, it won’t be enough to express how much your actions have helped us through this incredibly tough time. Over and over again I am reminded that we are more than an online community. We are a family. I am so lucky to be a part of that.

My dad was arrested a few months ago.
That’s hard to say. It’s even harder to believe.
Out of the blue, some cops showed up at my dad’s door and told him someone had accused him of theft and assault. My dad was locked up. He was subjected to a full body search and put in a jail cell. He had to spend the night there while my family scrambled to make bail.
But here’s the thing: my dad was working at the time of the alleged crime. He’s a delivery person for a pharmaceutical company. He has his clients’ signatures and paperwork, as well as their verbal confirmations that they saw him, as evidence to back him up. He has his cell phone triangulation data which puts him nowhere near the alleged victim. Moreover, my dad is not a criminal. He’s not violent. He’s 65 years old. He’s a freaking vegan.
None of this matters. All you need in order to be arrested is an accusation. The police didn’t check my dad’s whereabouts or look into the feasibility of the accuser’s story. They didn’t care. The reality of the justice system is that you are guilty until you can prove yourself innocent.
And good luck with that because it’s going to cost you.  Bail fees, attorney fees, court fees – my dad has had to deal with all of them. And then, to make matters worse, his company fired him because he now has an arrest record.
What about the accuser?  It has since surfaced that he’s acquainted with of one of the men on my dad’s delivery route. This man was angry because my dad refused to leave deliveries on without obtaining a signature. My dad refused to do this because it’s against the law. He is required to get a signature. So this man concocted a way to teach my dad a lesson. He supplied his friend with my dad’s name and description, and he got him to tell a lie. A lie that has cost my dad his job, his savings, and his pride. A lie that is still hanging over him as court dates get pushed back and back and back.
The evidence is with my dad.  His case is open and shut. He is innocent. Unfortunately, prosecutors keep asking for and receiving more time to prepare. This has now dragged on for over 7 months. Until he gets his hearing, my dad is unable to work. He has to pay his lawyer’s retainer. He has to pay the mortgage. He has to make ends meet.
My dad has paid over $14,000 in legal fees. Now he’s unemployed and still owes upwards of $7500. My brother and I have given him everything we have. And still, the costs keep piling up. We are drowning.
I’ve started a fund to raise money for my dad. If you can donate just one dollar or two, it would help us out so much. If you can’t, please consider reblogging? Anything you can do – anything at all – would be incredibly appreciated.
The truth is that this isn’t the kind of thing you want to share with the world.  I don’t want to stand, hat-in-hand, before my friends and say, “help me.” But I have to. For my dad, who taught me that we do whatever we can to help the ones we love. He has always, always fought for me. So it’s my turn to fight for him.

My dad was arrested a few months ago.

That’s hard to say. It’s even harder to believe.

Out of the blue, some cops showed up at my dad’s door and told him someone had accused him of theft and assault. My dad was locked up. He was subjected to a full body search and put in a jail cell. He had to spend the night there while my family scrambled to make bail.

But here’s the thing: my dad was working at the time of the alleged crime. He’s a delivery person for a pharmaceutical company. He has his clients’ signatures and paperwork, as well as their verbal confirmations that they saw him, as evidence to back him up. He has his cell phone triangulation data which puts him nowhere near the alleged victim. Moreover, my dad is not a criminal. He’s not violent. He’s 65 years old. He’s a freaking vegan.

None of this matters. All you need in order to be arrested is an accusation. The police didn’t check my dad’s whereabouts or look into the feasibility of the accuser’s story. They didn’t care. The reality of the justice system is that you are guilty until you can prove yourself innocent.

And good luck with that because it’s going to cost you.  Bail fees, attorney fees, court fees – my dad has had to deal with all of them. And then, to make matters worse, his company fired him because he now has an arrest record.

What about the accuser?  It has since surfaced that he’s acquainted with of one of the men on my dad’s delivery route. This man was angry because my dad refused to leave deliveries on without obtaining a signature. My dad refused to do this because it’s against the law. He is required to get a signature. So this man concocted a way to teach my dad a lesson. He supplied his friend with my dad’s name and description, and he got him to tell a lie. A lie that has cost my dad his job, his savings, and his pride. A lie that is still hanging over him as court dates get pushed back and back and back.

The evidence is with my dad.  His case is open and shut. He is innocent. Unfortunately, prosecutors keep asking for and receiving more time to prepare. This has now dragged on for over 7 months. Until he gets his hearing, my dad is unable to work. He has to pay his lawyer’s retainer. He has to pay the mortgage. He has to make ends meet.

My dad has paid over $14,000 in legal fees. Now he’s unemployed and still owes upwards of $7500. My brother and I have given him everything we have. And still, the costs keep piling up. We are drowning.

I’ve started a fund to raise money for my dad. If you can donate just one dollar or two, it would help us out so much. If you can’t, please consider reblogging? Anything you can do – anything at all – would be incredibly appreciated.

The truth is that this isn’t the kind of thing you want to share with the world.  I don’t want to stand, hat-in-hand, before my friends and say, “help me.” But I have to. For my dad, who taught me that we do whatever we can to help the ones we love. He has always, always fought for me. So it’s my turn to fight for him.

I bought this shirt years ago. I thought I’d wear it to bars and concerts. I never thought I’d be wearing it to take my toddler to the zoo.

But there you have it, a suburban mom who doesn’t give a damn that it’s three days past laundry day.

Rock on.

I bought this shirt years ago. I thought I’d wear it to bars and concerts. I never thought I’d be wearing it to take my toddler to the zoo.

But there you have it, a suburban mom who doesn’t give a damn that it’s three days past laundry day.

Rock on.

Gratuitous picture of my writing group.

(I look writerly, not weird. WRITERLY.)

Gratuitous picture of my writing group.

(I look writerly, not weird. WRITERLY.)

I finished assembling my writing desk today and:

1. It only took me three days,

2. I only had 1 screw left over, and

3. I only put one part on backwards.

The point is: I turned our dining room into my own personal office.

I finished assembling my writing desk today and:

1. It only took me three days,

2. I only had 1 screw left over, and

3. I only put one part on backwards.

The point is: I turned our dining room into my own personal office.

I put on weight while my brother was in town so now I have an ass.

Yesterday I wore a thong and minidress and the unaccountably windy day did me the favor of flashing said ass as I came out of Target.

Half of Buffalo has seen my ass now.

Fin.

I put on weight while my brother was in town so now I have an ass.

Yesterday I wore a thong and minidress and the unaccountably windy day did me the favor of flashing said ass as I came out of Target.

Half of Buffalo has seen my ass now.

Fin.

No central air conditioning

Which, no big deal right? We live in Buffalo. It’s only summer for 90 days.

But at 2 a.m. when you can’t sleep because it feels like you’re trying to nap in an oven, it’s a big fucking deal!!

Plus we can’t open windows because wasps keep pushing their way under the screen.

I miss winter.

Five for Friday

I was AWOL for a week. This is why.

Also, we moved!