Hit and Runs and Neck Braces

I am a very squeamish person. I get scared easily and am usually "that girl" who jumps 5 feet in the air when someone walks up behind her unexpectedly--my co-workers recently found this out, and have started doing it on purpose. But, I am the most squeamish when it comes to blood and injuries. Whenever I see blood, I can literally feel my legs going weak and my stomach turning. I can't watch videos on surgery or even shows that involve people giving shots or anything that involved needles. Once, I had a phone interview with a company that sold medical equipment and they asked, "So would you be okay being in surgeries and watching the instruments being used? We have to ask because the last girl we had dropped like a sack of potatoes when the first incision was made. She split her head open." I did a nervous laugh and said, "Yeah....that'd be me."

Didn't take that job obviously.

I actually like to avoid hospitals at all costs, because just the smell makes me nervous.

But this past weekend I had my first ER visit as an adult, and it's sure to be one I'll never forget.

On Sunday, my sisters, my mom, newborn niece and I decided to drive out to Peddler's Village (by New Hope, PA) for a little girl bonding and to look for some of the things my older sister still needed for Maggie's Christening in 2 weeks. It was a relaxing afternoon and Maggie Jane was a perfect baby as always.

Isn't she perfect?

While enjoying a quick lunch, my younger sister Kate got a call from my Dad. Kate had asked my Dad if he'd vacuum out her car while we were gone, which he had no problem doing and also wanted to surprise her by waxing up the dashboard. So while crossing an intersection in her car to the local supermarket to get the wax, he was t-boned by a car speeding through the red light. Worst part of it, the car didn't stop, but just kept going.

People are legit assholes.

My dad was okay--the majority of the damage was to the back driver's side door and luckily the airbags did go off. He was very dazed, pretty bruised from the airbags deflating and he blacked out for a good 10 minutes. Luckily people around him pulled over to make sure he was alright and called the cops. But he wanted to go to the hospital--which if you know my dad is a rarity. He almost cut off his foot a month ago when we dropped a power saw on it, but instead of having my mom look at it (my mom's a nurse), he bandaged it up with duct tape.

So naturally, we hauled ass home and my older sister called her husband to go over to the accident and make sure he was okay. Five minutes later, my brother-in-law calls my sister to say my dad had decided to drive the car home--not thinking of himself but not wanting my sister to have to pay for a tow. Yeah he's crazy. And then when we finally get home, he's not laid out on the couch but in the garage cleaning it out.

We wanted to kill him.

So like a small army, we all herded into 3 separate cars and coordinated who was going where--my sister needed to drop the baby at home with her in-laws, my other sisters had to pick up my mom's car there, and I was taking my parents to the hospital. Luckily, we live 5 minutes from the closest hospital and besides the car that was speeding and cut us off--to which my dad replied, "Are people trying to kill me today??"--we got there unscathed.

When we walked in, we immediately had to sign in, my dad was given a wheel chair and he had to fill out his medical information. He turned to my mother and goes;

"Jane what's the date?"
"It's the 27th."
"Oh ok....don't forget to pay the Macy's bill later."

I almost peed myself laughing. My dad had just been in a major car accident and that's what he was worried about. My mom shushed me and looked very embarrassed as the triage nurses took my dad back to examine him. After they gave him the once over--and gave him a neck brace to wear--they wheeled him into the waiting room and told us to hang tight until we were called to go back in to the separate rooms.

So we waited and waited. About 2 hours in, my Dad finally got called back. Unfortunately, only 2 of us could go back at a time so I had to wait even longer. About an hour later, this is what I walked back to

Sorry, I couldn't flip it for some reason

And I am 100% evil because I burst into uncontrollable laughter when I saw him. I really couldn't help myself and am still laughing looking at this. Yes, I am fully aware my father could have died that day but the neck brace just killed me. I think my mom was pretty embarrassed so she kindly asked me to go back outside until I could compose myself.

I stayed out in the waiting room for awhile lol.

While waiting again, the ER started to fill up pretty quick. It was standing room only for the last 3 hours of our time there--in total we were in the ER for 6 hours, which my Dad was NOT happy about. And I guess I forgot that people come to the ER with actual emergencies. Like my Dad was relatively okay, he just needed a once over to make sure. But the people I saw were not. There were babies crying, a man sitting next to me in a wheel chair who had 3 rather larger puncture wounds in the back of his head--I don't wanna know how he got those-- a girl who wouldn't sit down until she was allowed back to the rooms (I have a sneaky suspicion that she was incredibly strung out or high), a family of 5 people whose father just had a heart attack and were waiting for test results (very sad, I wanted to reach out and hug the little old lady who I assumed was his wife), and a man who had a lacerated hand whose bandage kept falling off and was dripping blood everywhere.

That last one I almost passed out. But generally, it wasn't as bad as it could've been.

Time went slowly, and eventually--3 hours later--my Dad had an X-Ray and a CAT scan and everything was fine. They gave him some pain meds and told him to take it easy. My sisters and I all snuck back to his room at that point to figure out what we were doing next. All my Dad wanted was "a huge slice of pizza and a cheesesteak." So my sister and I started calling around to all the local pizza places, trying to find one that was open at 11 on a Sunday.

And I guess I made the mistake of turning towards a commotion in the hallway outside of my Dad's room at the exact moment they were wheeling a patient back. Well the patient was a firefighter who had just been brought from a fire and had extreme injuries. Of which I saw all of them. I can't even describe it without feeling sick. After they wheeled him by I had to run to the bathroom and puke. Oh god it was awful, and I found a new respect for that profession.

Needless to say, I texted my sisters from the bathroom and asked them to meet me outside. I was NOT going back there again.

So, Sunday was an extremely eventful day. My Dad is fine, back to his old self and not in an ounce of pain. My sister's car is totaled and she is now dealing with the insurance side of the accident. The cops aren't hopeful that they will find the fucker who did this, but we are just happy my Dad is okay.

Really hoping it's awhile before my next ER visit.

Even in a hospital, can't change him

Push To Publish

I've never been too active in the writing community. When I was in college, I was part of a writers groups that met every two weeks to bounce ideas off each other and workshop new pieces. It's how I got the majority of my book finished. And really it was just a great way to socialize with people who were like-minded and had the same goals.

Once I graduated, I fell off the bandwagon. I attempted (twice actually) to pull a group of writer friends in the Philadelphia area into a structured group, but it never came together. Schedules and "reality" just got in the way, and I never really pursued it further. I still have a friend or two who I consistently send works to, but we don't meet to hash out ideas.

To be honest, I've really missed that "round table" workshop type of feel. It was nice to be surrounded by a group of people who supported you and your work. And the best advice I've ever gotten has been from a peer in a workshop setting. It's also a great way to talk out ideas, especially if you're stuck or going through a bit of the dreaded "writers block".

So lately I've been looking for some sort of an outlet to pursue. And I guess I've been looking in the wrong places--I tried my local library to no avail, and found a few interesting/shady listings on CraigsList (which I obviously did not go to). Then I got this in the mail:

I subscribe to the magazine Philadelphia Stories, and get their publication once a month. This came inside my August issue--an advertisement for their annual Writer's Conference at Rosemont College. An all day event, from 9 to 5, that would focus on getting your work out there in the public eye. For $75, breakfast and lunch would be provided as well as the 3 workshops on various topics and (the big draw) the chance to sit down with literary agents and editors. It's the chance to get someone in the industry to sit up and take notice.

Naturally, I paid my $75 and registered. The chance to pitch my existing novel and my new one is an opportunity I couldn't pass up. So for the last two weeks, I've been compiling writing samples, writing up book proposals, printing all coverage and reviews of my current novel and putting them into a packet format. I went a little crazy--I started laminating bits of it and it looked AWESOME! I was ready, prepared, and excited to pitch.

The Thursday before the conference, a reminder e-mail was distributed, giving a final timeline for everything with the next day and also confirming the agents and editors for the next day. Signing up for the "Speed-date with the Agents"--a 10-minute meet and pitch--would be at registration BUT at restricted to availability when you got there and to have back-ups prepared. NO MEETINGS were guaranteed but basically a crap-shoot and depending on who was still available when you got to registration. The doors to Rosemont's library (where the event was taking place) would open at 8:30 and not a minute before.

Wasn't really sure how to take that e-mail. Would it be that crowded that I might not get to see who I wanted? I had never been to one of these things but I assumed the e-mail was like a "worse case scenario". Still, I decided I'd get there at 8:30.

Well, apparently I should have gotten there at 8 because the line was already out the door at 8:30. And by the time I got to the registration desk, both agents I wanted to see were booked. I was a bit pissed, but I settled for an editor I had on my back-up sheet.

Now the one part I hate about these type of things is the networking aspect and really going alone. I'm definitely not the type of person to go right up to someone and strike up a conversation. I am reserved and a bit shy when it comes to unfamiliar situations. I just don't like doing it and I attempted to sit at a table that was empty and I wouldn't be forced to talk to anyone. Unfortunately, the event was packed full as my table became. After a few awkward moments, I joined in on the conversation my peers were engaging in--basically what we were working on, bitching about the "cattle call" of registration for the "speed dates", and if any of us had had things published before.

Now I have to draw some attention to the fact that by industry standards I am young. Writing and getting published is typically a mid-30s profession--and most don't see any success until much later. I am completely aware of this. Another aspect of this is that I appear to be a lot younger than I truly am. Most people, when meeting me, have a hard time believing I'm on the "wrong-side of 25". I get it and I'm used to it. So I fully expected to be the youngest at the conference, which I'm pretty sure I was. Almost everyone there appeared to be in their upper 40's late 50's. Then the woman next to me asked, "So are you a student here?"

I had to laugh a little bit. "No. I graduated from undergrad almost 5 years ago."

"Oh wow! Well trust me honey, you'll love compliments like that 10 years from now."

Soon after, I was able to meet with my first of 2 editors in my "speed date". The first was a local woman who has her own business. She was extremely nice and cordial--was very interested in both my current novel and my new project. She flipped through everything I handed her, gave me some advice and then offered to work with me. Which was great. I definitely feel like my next project will need a bit more polish and preparedness if I want to pitch it to a stream-line publisher. My next meeting was with the managing editor of Philadelphia Stories. He actually sat there and read the first chapter of my new manuscript and gave me great advice in regards to character development and what to cut. It's advice that I am already applying to rewrites and am very thankful for.

The rest of the day flew by. I heard a lot of interesting things about marketing and being proactive in the search for the perfect publisher/agent/editor etc. I met a lot of nice people and gave my e-mail and information to keep in touch--which I hope I do. Although I didn't get exactly what I wanted out of the day, I still walked out with more than I went in with. It was definitely worth a whole Saturday and I'm going to look around for more to attend in the future.

Write On!

The Tale of the Haunted DDD

I'm pretty sure everyone in the world has a ghost or supernatural story they love to tell to friends. It could be a creepy experience that happened to them or to "my sister's best friend's mom's third cousin's ex-wife"--and reciting that exact connection is always important to the story. Usually these tales are a bit embellished for dramatic purposes--"And I swear, I felt something pass right through my body" or "I have the picture to prove it!"--and most of these tales would be considered a "Big Fish" Story; where the story has been so twisted that even you start to believe it. The listener doesn't really know if the story is real or just a figment of the teller's imagination, but really it doesn't matter. These stories are always incredibly entertaining and really gets you thinking, "Wow...maybe there is another plain of existence for the dead."

I don't know about you, but this is the exact scene that I think of when I mention "other plains of existence for the dead." And if you don't recognize this.....well, shame on you!

Truthfully, I don't have one of those stories. I know! Very shocking as I pride myself on my story-telling abilities. But really, I've never experienced something so spooky that I attributed it to the supernatural or a ghost. I've never had things mysteriously levitate before my eyes, seen an apparition floating in a graveyard or on an abandoned highway, or heard voices in an empty house. And trust me, I've tried! I love that kind of shit! And will even seek out creepy places--like Byberry Insane Asylum, that's right by my house and apparently one of the most haunted places in Philadelphia--just to try and catch a glimpse of something creepy.

The only thing I can contribute my lack of supernatural occurrences is the fact that I haven't really had a lot of death in my life. I don't have a relative or a friend who I was very close with die suddenly--the only being my maternal grandfather when I was 6, but I have very few memories of him to begin with. Sure, I've had great-uncles or acquaintances die unexpectedly, but I don't feel like any of these would require someone to haunt me, or linger on with the need to speak to me. Not that I don't have departed people who I would love to speak with again--there's actually one in particular who I wish would visit me--but it just hasn't happened.

Well Sunday night I had something incredibly weird and freaky happen to me and I can't think of a reasonable explanation. I don't know if it was truly supernatural, but it definitely scared the shit out of me.

On a whim, I decided to drive to Reading to visit a friend from college who was home visiting his parents. I really had nothing going on, so I didn't think much of making the hour drive at 6:45 at night to a place I had never been to, when it was also pitch dark outside. Probably wasn't the best idea, but luckily I have a GPS and I always trust it with my life. And I'm not kidding--I literally could not function without it. My parents gave it to me for Christmas one year, as I am constantly getting lost which usually leads to massive panic attacks. So, the GPS was a way of saying, "Here, use this. Stop calling us, hysterically crying when you get lost 2 miles from home." It's pretty bad, I'll admit. But the GPS puts my frantic mind at ease when I am driving somewhere new.

Mine is NOT this nice

And an hour later, I got to my friend's house with no problems.

We hung out for about 3 hours, but it being a Sunday and me being in the real world, I knew I had to leave at a somewhat decent hour because I had work the next day--and an hour long drive ahead of me. Didn't want to leave, but I knew I had to be on the road by the latest 10:30. So at 10:15, I jumped into my trusty PT Cruiser, but the key in the ignition, punched my home address into my reliable GPS, and pulled out of his neighborhood.

Easy enough.

Until my GPS had a seizure.

Within 2 minutes of pulling onto the Pottstown Bypass, the screen of my GPS went blank, turned off and then turned back on. It stayed frozen on the welcome screen for a few minutes, then the GPS lady started yelling out directions but didn't show anything on the screen. Then it went off again, turned on and sat on the "Calculating Distance" screen for another eternity. Again, the GPS lady  (or bitch as I started calling her) starting screaming at me to "MERGE ONTO THE POTTSTOWN BYPASS"--which I was already on. Naturally, I started to panic. I pulled over on the side of the road, thinking maybe I'd turn it off for a few minutes and allow whatever glitch to figure itself out. I stayed there for a few minutes, then turned it back on. I re-entered my home address and allowed the map to load. Everything seemed fine so I pulled back onto the road.

Then it crapped out on me 3 more times.

I didn't know what to do, so I pulled over again--this time in an abandoned parking lot--and turned it off. I was incredibly tempted to just chuck the damn thing out the window and head back to my friends. On top of that, I had just watched an episode of COPS where a girl was parked in an abandoned parking lot on the phone, the cop thought it was suspicious and came up to her and hauled her in for a warrant. Not that I have anything on my record or was doing anything bad, but having a cop shine a bright flashlight into your face is not appealing.

I figured I had to at least take my chances. So I pulled back onto the bypass and started to drive--I knew I was on that road for awhile and it eventually led to the turnpike. At least I hoped. My DDD ("demon direction device") continued to freak out. Now it was just flashing the word "AHEAD" over and over again. I still attempted to tap the screen and replug my address in, but it was having none of it.

And like a sign from God, I saw the overhead sign that read "PA TURNPIKE".

"Thank you Jesus!" I screamed and sped down  the highway. Literally hauled ass to the safety of the turnpike, where at least I knew where I was going--literally just straight, can't screw that up. I merged onto the turnpike lane, went through the toll, and drove forward to my entrance.

I'm not even kidding you, the second that I turned onto the turnpike the DDD flashed and everything was fine. The map was on the screen, the GPS lady (yes, she was a lady again) was talking calmer (in my mind anyway) and it was giving me correct directions. I was on my guard, waiting for it to spazz out again but the rest of my ride was completely uneventful.

Too uneventful.

Which got me thinking.....

Was something tapping into my GPS? Was there someone in my car deliberating causing it to go haywire and stall me? Was my GPS possessed?

I have never had an issue with it before--sure it has taken me on asinine back routes, but all GPS's do that to an extent. Yes, it's about 3 years old, but I rarely use it. Also, when I'm not using it, it is safely packed away in my glove compartment so it wasn't overcharged or burned out either. And if there was truly something wrong with it, why would it all of a sudden be fine again?

Makes absolutely no sense.

Maybe something was with me that night....protecting me from something on the road. Or just screwing with me for the fun of it.

I'll never know.

But I still get goosebumps thinking about it.