The Window

Yesterday I got to school early, I sat in my truck killing time for 15 minutes, but it was cold and rainy so I decided to kill time indoors instead. I grabbed my purse, bookbag, and jacket, stepped out of the truck, and as I was in the process of slamming the door my mind thought 'keys?' and as I watched the truck door slam with loud finality I had the sickening realization that my keys were still hanging from my ignition.

Lets go back a bit. For those of you who may never have given it much thought, I am a woman. This in no way explains or excuses me locking my keys in the truck however it does seem to happen to myself and never seems to happen to my male friends. Maybe it's just me.

On every other key-hostage situation I have managed to retrieve said keys without too much pain and suffering. In my old truck and car I became quite handy with the coat-hanger key retrieval. It seemed almost an automatic response, much like gagging on cough medicine, I'd hardly blink before my coat hanger was unfurled and my sleeves were rolled up and a few minutes and a few bruises later the window would be down 3 inches and I'd have the door unlocked. My 'new' truck, not happening. However, there is a fail safe.

There's a back window. You know the deal. The little square ones that don't really serve much purpose. Until the day I locked my keys in the truck the first time. It was a godsend. Especially since a previous hostile attack on it has left the latch broken, so it slides easily open and closed. Don't get excited people, I never keep valuables in my truck for this very reason! So, the first time, I had a coat hanger in the back of my truck, my shoulders were a tight squeeze but I made it, my hips stopped me forcibly before the keys were in reach, but handy-hanger reached the rest of the way. Problem solved. Till the next time.

You'd think I'd learn to keep a hanger in my vehicle at all times just in case a key rescue mission was called for, but alas! I do not think ahead. Thankfully the second time I had a thinner friend handy to slip into the truck completely and retrieve my keys! Problem solved!  Till the next time.

No hanger, but they have a useful tool at the Plex Indoor Sports center that nobody really seems to know what it does, a long rod with a hook on the end. Handy for key saving! Problem solved!.... Right? WRONG? I never learn.

So this time in front of school yesterday was the 4th time an undercover key rescue mission became necessary, but there were a couple of problems. I had no hanger. I had no thinner friend with me. And there was a truck parked directly behind mine  with a young man sitting in it looking directly at where my derriere would be in full view when I got myself stuck in that window. So I figured I should at least warn him.

I walked up, inquired politely if he had a hanger, and when he answered in the negative I did indeed warn him that I was going to attempt to climb through the back window of the truck and for him to please call 911 if I seemed panicked or remained motionless for longer than 90 seconds. I half hoped he would volunteer to be my thin friend, but I was sadly disappointed by that as well as the doubtful look he shot at my rear when I announced my plan. But I knew it had to at least be attempted. So I mustered my courage, stripped down to 1 shirt since we are in the season of layers and I dove in........

I made it. I didn't only make it to my keys, I made it THROUGH that tiny window. I didn't even have to get stuck and have a friendly hand push me through, I just made it plain and simple. I was relieved. I was proud. Above all, I hadn't embarrassed myself TOO much, even though I know that a picture of my behind going through that window wasn't what I'd want on my Christmas card this year. Thank god for the diet I've been on and off periodically, it's done something.

I don't know. I keep thinking of that old saying, "When the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window." But the Lord hadn't closed that car door, I had. And symbolically I believe my life has been the same way. I think I may have been closing a lot of doors before they were really ready to be closed, and walking into new situations before I'd really been closing the ones behind me. Like school. I'm 33 and just now going to school? Why didn't I do this years ago? How different my life would've been! I'd be in a different place, I'd know different people, I'd have more money, a totally different life.... But wait. I love my life. I love my friends. I love my job. I love my house and my pets and.....I'm starting to think that maybe god closed that door after all. Because this going back to school thing, it's great. It's wonderful. It's hard work but I enjoy it and I feel good about myself every night and every morning. I'm not sure I would've truly appreciated it as a young adult. And this place, here, now, where I am, with all my experiences and all my supportive friends and my wonderful job, I think all things considered this is where I'm supposed to be right now.

I crawled out of that truck feeling proud and jubilant, much like I rise from bed every morning. I couldn't help but share my joy with the young fella who I'm sure had been my reluctant audience. I said, "I did it! I expected these hips to stop me but I did it!"

His response has become my life's motto I think, because I want to do so much, accomplish so much, feel good about me and where I am and just be everything that I can possibly be and touch as many lives as I can along the way, but he hit the nail on the head. He answered "Yes and you looked good doing it too!"

Shank Carving Day

  Recently, all seriousness aside, I acted on my lifelong curiosity regarding the growing art of Shank carving. Too much Tru TV I’m sure contributed to this morbid curiosity. Especially considering the inane and seemingly harmless items used to make these horrifying instruments of death. Actually, on Tru TV it seemed people rarely died from their shank attacks, but that just fueled my ghoulish inquisitiveness .  I work in a dental office, and multiple times a day supply the #1 instrument of shank terror, the dreaded toothbrush, indiscriminately to young and old alike. Am I fueling a growing fire? Should I invent an uncarveable toothbrush to dispense to everyone 18 years of age and younger? How exactly does one carve a shank? All of these questions I felt deserved to be investigated.

  I started by choosing my favorite color toothbrush of course. Then I sent out an informal invite via facebook to see if I could perhaps create a shank carving event for other shank-curious individuals. There was much mockery, much surprise, a few cries of approval, but mostly silence.  It turns out even discussing carving a shank makes you top dog in the big house. Storing that info away in the ‘hope I never use this’ file.

  When I got home and properly researched shank carving procedure and etiquette, sharpening the toothbrush handle slowly and carefully against pretty much anything that will eventually wear and shape into as sharp an edge as possible. Well, they have nothing but time on their hands.  I on the other hand was celebrating shank carving day by myself and had to run errands that afternoon so I had to speed things along if possible. From there came the decision to use a box cutter to carve my shank. I was asked why I needed the shank if I had a box cutter handy.  Well, the experience was for educational purposes, not self defense.  If I’m ever in a knife fight, I would certainly trust that box cutter more than the shank I made, but I digress.

  I wasn’t aware but found out quickly that my boss in his infinite care for his patients and wisdom buys high quality toothbrushes. They actually have quite a thick cushion for maximum grip comfort when brushing, and maximum annoyance when shank carving. As you can see I had to totally remove this harmless, flexible strip from my toothbrush before it could even think about becoming a killing machine.  And even with the strip removed, it looked far from alarming. I had my work ‘cut out’ for me.

  The box cutter, as quite a sharp tool, was surprisingly inadequate at carving this hard plastic! I expected this to be easy. I mean, if a prisoner can sharpen a shank against a concrete wall for 6 months surely I should be able to take a box cutter to a toothbrush and create a work of art in less than 6 minutes, right? WRONG! Within 10 minutes my confidence was fading. Within 20 minutes my hands were sore. Within 30 minutes I was wishing I never started and knew I’d never get quite the respectable dangerous shank I’d always wanted to create. It was somewhat of a disappointment.

  Then I poked myself in the palm, like so.

OUCH! I definitely couldn’t do oral surgery, or any type of surgery, with this shank. But it made me wince! My spirits lifted. I ripped up an old sock and yes even used a ponytail holder to attach it, because every shank needs a good grip.  I’m cleaning up the mess of tiny shards of hard plastic and feeling pretty good about my shank carving experience on the whole. All things considered though, I’d rather stay out of prison. I’d rather remain non-violent. I’d rather spend 6 months or 6 weeks or 6 days or 6 minutes working on worthwhile goals, instead of being a scared person, in a dark cell, spending all that time, energy, creative fancy, and most of all patience, on constructing a weapon.  I think that at the end of the day, I’ll listen to the advice of my toothbrush- “USE FUZZY END”.