Blogging 101

After a lengthy unintentional hiatus, you are now once again able to get e-mail notifications when I publish new posts. You’ll have to take the same steps as you did before by going to the web version of the blog and following the instructions at the bottom of the page. I don’t know exactly what went wrong, but I did somehow make it work again. 

I haven’t written anything about prison for a while. In fact, I rarely think about being there anymore, and even when I spoke about it the other night, it felt like it had been a lifetime ago that I was in those horrible places. It’s been nearly eight months, and aside from a little hiccup and a 30-day loss of all of my freedoms, I’ve done exceptionally well out here. This is my 101^st post on this blog, so I’d like to take this opportunity to look back on what I’ve accomplished in this relatively short period of time.

Yesterday, my bosses told me that they value me as an employee, in fact, they said it has been years since they had an employee that was as motivated and hard working as me. They then gave me a $2 per hour raise which is incredible for me. I’m not trying to toot my own horn here but, Beep Beep, that’s pretty fucking awesome! I have worked my ass off every day since they gave me a job just three weeks out of prison. The work is often frustrating and repetitive, but I show up and I don’t complain because I am grateful to be working full-time.

I have a car that looks like it’s been through my life. It’s cost me so much recently that I could have bought a much nicer car if I had spent the money I had to on new tires, brakes and rotors, and a high-mileage oil change, all at the same time as a down payment. But, it’s mine. It’s in my name, it’s insured, and I have my license, all things that are less common in recovery than in the normal world. I spent all of that money and I could afford to do it and have money left over to spend on necessities. I’m never broke, and that’s huge.

I moved out of my mom’s house. Again. Some of you probably did that for the last time in your teens, and I think that is pretty normal. I’ve done it a couple times in my teens, a couple more in my twenties, and again in my thirties. I want this to be the last time, so I need to work hard to keep on the straight and narrow. I think I’m doing alright so far.

I have rekindled relationships with my family. Some I communicate with and see more often than others, but I am part of the whole again, and I can tell you that I can see now what I was missing out on for all of those years. I’m no longer afraid of them finding out all of my terrible little secrets. They know, and they accept me for who I am and what I’ve been through. I love them. I love you guys!

I’ve gotten over my fear of being around people and in public places. That was a tough one. For months I had trouble looking people in the eye and having normal conversations. Actually, I still have some difficulty, but it’s getting better. Anxiety doesn’t seem to rule my life anymore. My favorite part of every week is going to my home group and gathering for fellowship afterward with a group that has become very close over the past few months. I hope this continues for many years.

That’s a lot of progress in just under eight months. I am excited to see what the future holds. I know I have a lot of work left, but I am up for the challenge. I don't have everything I want yet, but I have everything I need. I’m loving life.

Selfless

adjective

concerned more with the needs and wishes of others than with one's own; unselfish.

I’m going to keep this post short because I need all of you to help me out a little. Well, not me, my aunt Connie.

I wrote recently about a friend that died of cancer. Well this post is about a hero of mine who has so far survived all that cancer has thrown at her. Unfortunately, I was off doing bad things and in prison during her entire battle with the illness. I am here now, and I’m here to help.

A month ago she made a Relay for Life page and asked for donations to help out with medical bills, and other expenses associated with having a potentially terminal disease. Well, unfortunately, only one person donated, and she had to put out another request for help today. I am asking all of you who read this to please click this link and read a little about her journey over the past several years. And if you are able to do so, please give what you can. I know the minimum suggested donation is $35, and if you can give more, that would be awesome, if you can only give $20 or even $10, I assure you she would appreciate it. The page shows a goal of $500 but I think we can get over that by the end of the day.

It seems these days everybody knows somebody who is in some way affected by cancer. Please help me help her. Click the link above. Thank you.

In Action

Speaking in front of people doesn't exactly come naturally to me. I don't get to look at what I'm saying before it comes out, and Microsoft Word doesn't suggest more helpful words than, "uhhh" and nothing at all. Then there's the subject matter. Talking about my drug and criminal history in front of people I don't know can have a shame factor in it. It's not like the rooms of AA where people can identify with what I say because they've been through some shit themselves.

But this is exactly what I did last night at the Minneapolis Urban League in front of the Jewish Committee for Action. It's a group that, to the best of my knowledge, is working on mass incarceration issues, and sentencing reform. It was only a group of 30 or so, but it felt like hundreds.

My mother and I had interviewed with one of the organizers about a month back as a result of them somehow finding our co-blog, and she asked us if we would come speak to the group and we just went for it. It was very helpful to have Mom by my side to tell her part of the story and to help guide the conversation by asking me questions along the way. We killed it. We nailed it. However you want to put it, we did well. I mean, we weren't being graded, or judged, but the feedback we received was all very positive.

After the question and answer segment, the main participants of the organization split up into smaller groups for discussion on current topics. I chose to sit at a table at which people would be discussing legislature, a term I still haven't Googled. I'm as familiar with politics as much as I am familiar with phenylketonuria or how an atom works, but I saw people handing out MN State sentencing guidelines and I thought I might be able to add a thought or opinion at some point.

What the table discussed, or at least the parts I understood, was making a change to the current guidelines upheld by Minnesota judges in which heavy sentences are handed down for relatively small amounts of drugs. It looked good on paper, but in reality it would unlikely make a difference in the grand scheme of things.

Right now it takes only ten grams of meth to make a case for first-degree sales which carries a mandatory prison term even for a first time felon. The proposal changes it to 25 grams but what I believe is that police and U.C.'s would simply wait a little longer in their investigation until that threshold was met in order to secure the first-degree charge. People are only charged with 3rd and 5th degree charges when the small amounts are found incidental to arrest. Detectives only want the first degree charges and are willing to go to any length to get it.

They said that they want to keep the penalty high for first-degree sales for "the kingpins," but I never met any of those in prison, just a lot of decent people who made some mistakes and were doing way too much time as a result.

Overall it was a fun and informative evening, and it was great to see that there are people fighting against mass incarceration and injustice in the legal system. It was a learning experience for me and I may continue to attend their monthly meetings to see what I can give, whether it be my time, or my input, and maybe together we can make a difference.

Fountain

I took this picture just North of the Oronoco exit on Highway 52 yesterday on my way down to my old home in Fountain.

Upon seeing the sign for the city limits of Fountain, my mind filled with mixed emotions, both excitement for seeing friends that I hadn't seen in years, and dread for seeing my old places of employment and driving by my old apartment where I did/sold meth before I went to prison.

The good outweighed the bad and I arrived at Seth's place shortly after 8am. We talked for a while, and within an hour, my cheeks hurt from laughter. We decided to round up the dogs and head out to his family campground where we used to play yard games, and drink excessively. I had purchased a new Wiffle bat for the occasion because I wanted to play my favorite game there, Campground Baseball.

I got a pretty good shot here. The yellow ball appears to be hovering mid-air, but has been released by the pitcher and is on the way to home plate which is the chair. The batter is Seth's brother, and the pitcher is his son. 

This is from the outfielders viewpoint. Originally, the game was played by only Seth and myself, and the dogs were the outfielders. The game would never have existed without a dog to get every hit/missed ball. Thank you Willie.

This is Audrey, Seth's kid. She's ten years old now, and has been my favorite kid in the world since she was just one. I wrote to her many times while I was away, and she wrote me back. I was so happy to see her smiling face yesterday. Love ya kiddo!

We played baseball, talked, and cooked over a cherry wood fire. Friends came and went, and the time flew by so quickly. I could have used 12 more hours. I decided to share a picture of these mini cheesecakes that Chelsey, Audrey's mother, made in honor of my visit. One was s'mores, and the other Reese's. They were fabulous, and I gained at least one pound yesterday just from them.

This little guy here, that's Dan-O. Dave and Allyssa are two very good friends of mine, and while I was in prison, they made a baby. I'm not sure how, but they said it was really fun. Daniel is one of the happiest kids I've ever seen with a constant mischievous grin on his face. He sat still long enough for this picture, and was moving around for the rest of the day. Go, go, go!

Yes I had a great day. I had no cravings for drugs or alcohol. Driving through Rochester on the way back was tough. I saw so many places I had done bad things. I drove by the junk yard where I woke up going 70mph backwards and somehow didn't injure myself. I could see so many of the hotels I stayed in along the highway where I sold meth and went crazy. Every exit I passed I could recall certain places or situations on or near those roads that made me so grateful that I am not bound by those chains anymore. I don't like Rochester. Rather, Rochester shouldn't like me. I don't think I ever made one rational decision in all of the years that I lived there. I'm glad they made a highway that goes right through it. 

I'm looking forward to going back to Fountain. It still felt like home.

Good Boy

I’ve written a number of posts that involve my dog, Willie. Here is one of my posts on him. He’s been in my life sporadically over the past six months, and even less the two previous years. The last time I actually had him in my possession was December 20^th, 2013, the night I was arrested for my meth charge. My friend Seth had been taking care of him since shortly after that night and he brought him to the cities a while back to stay at my aunt’s house until I moved out of my roommate’s (mom’s) place. I have since made that move, and although this is not yet a permanent situation, Willie is here at home with me and it feels great.

We’re going down to Fountain tomorrow to visit friends and have a massive feast at Seth’s family campground, a place where I’ve possibly never breathed a sober breath. It’s not really a test for me, I know I won’t drink because that would be the dumbest thing I could possibly do. It’s a chance for me to see people that I left behind in the wake of my last meth bender, and a chance to show off how cool I am still in recovery. There won’t be any alcohol around at all, in fact, because even that would be a violation of my parole. My friends understand the implications and will respect the alcohol ban for the day.

Willie has been through a lot in his life. He’s seen me at my best and my worst, and has loved me without judgement. He has seen me do things I’m certainly not proud of, and I’m grateful he didn’t fully comprehend what was going on at the time.

He was kennel trained as a young puppy, and it worked really well after a trial period. One day in particular, I put him in his cage and left for work. I didn’t know it, but that would be a 12-hour day at the Kemps ice cream plant. When I arrived at home shortly after 1am, I saw that he was standing up in his kennel which was normally because he was happy to see me and ready to go potty. This time it was different. I don’t know for how long he had been standing, but I could see that it was because the one-inch tall plastic liner that was the bottom of the kennel was filled with liquid feces and urine and he didn’t want to lay down in it. Apparently he had been sick or eaten something that didn’t agree with him and he had nowhere to go. I felt so bad for him, and I thought I was a bad owner for letting it happen. He paid me back by running out of his little home and across the carpet into my room to make another poop on my floor. I wasn’t mad, and I was actually relieved that he still had energy. I cleaned it all up and gave him a bath, and all was good from then on.

Right now he’s passed out in the middle of the living room and I really want to go cuddle him up. I will when I’m done with this post.

He’s old, and that makes me happy because even though he was with me for some rough times, he’s always been shown love by me, and all those who have taken the responsibility to take care of him over the years while I was off doing stupid things. We never know how long we or anything will last in this life but I hope that he has a few years left to make people around him happy. I live in a house with two other guys and I hope they’re willing to let him move in with me so I can make up for the time we were separated by my mistakes. And even if that can’t be the case, I know wherever he is, he will be happy, loved, and such a good boy. I love you Willie.