Tuesday, April 20, 2010

When Bad Dreams Happen to Good People

OK, I have some really odd dreams and last night was just further proof. I dreamed my friend Alissa had a stroke. Take in mind she's about 5 months older than me. Anyway, she had a stroke and was hospitalized and basically in a weird semi-coma (I guess it's like a semi-colin hahah). So she was laying in her hospital bed and not responsive except sometimes she would say stuff. But because she had a stroke and her brain was all screwed up, the stuff she would say would be really nasty hurtful mean stuff. Anyway, Katrina went to the hospital as soon as she found out and Alissa was telling her how typical it is that she'd come to check up on her and she was just being really mean. The funny dreamy part is that this is like nowhere near her real-life personality unless you are an uber jerk and do something to piss her off and then she'll politely rip into you. Her mom was pretty heartbroken too because she was just being really mean to her. Oh and somehow she was going to die soon because of it. They had to do a blood transfusion and that was going to take a while but no one knew how long. I wound up coming over to see her with Katrina and she was kinda out of it. The best I could compare her to was Linda Blair in the Exorcist. Sometimes completely out of it, others completely nasty. For some reason everyone was mad at her boyfriend too because they were all saying it was his fault and he wasn't coming to see her or anything because everyone was mad. I dunno. There was just too much going on in that dream and it was super odd. I woke up feeling completely gross and with a headache as if dealing with that dream was more of a chore than rest. You know, like when you go on vacation somewhere and stupid crap happens and you have to deal with it and you're happier to be home but feel more worn out than when you left to go on your vacation in the first place? Yeah, that's the feeling. Oh well, not much you can do about weird bad dreams.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Sunday Awesome/Fail

There may be some hope for the Oldsmobile yet. At least long enough to provide a temporary solution till we can get something else situated. The problem at the time was a radiator leak. Nothing a little JB Weld couldn't fix yesterday. Strangely enough, I told people my husband fixed it when in actuality I did it and Jesse said it looked pretty good, so that works for me. Anyway, my car still over heats and part of that is the residual oil from a previous leak all over my engine. It needs to be cleaned off or something. We just haven't ever gone in and done that. In fact, it's been like that since we got it so it probably needs some major scraping or something. It's pretty gnarly. But enough about the Oldsmobile...

Today I went out shooting with some friends. The Oldsmobile managed to make it out to USA Parkway (4 miles before where we shot at Derby Dam) before the HOT light came on. A little water and cooling down later we got out there and all was good and right in the world. Anyway, there's a bunch of photos from our shooting adventures and I won't go into the fun we had there despite me forgetting my "game plan".

I managed to get this really gnarly sunburn. This is totally typical for me around this time of year, though. I get a few really hideous sunburns before my "summer coat" comes in. You know, when your skin kinda toughens up to the sun and you stop burning and just look leathery and gross like an armadillo? Anyway, soon that will happen and I won't have these weird burns. Despite my sunblock efforts, I think I need to stock up on a lot to put in my shooting bucket.

On the way home, I needed to add more water to the Oldsmobile and managed to get out to Mustang Market off exit 23 because the HOT light came on again. I checked the fluids and realized my radiator cap was gone. Apparently, I forgot to put it on when I filled up on my way out to go shooting. Oh, and now, after our day was done, the gas station was closed, so I no way of getting water! There wasn't a water machine by the air. The bathrooms were locked. I totally  busted a MacGuyver move and shoved a bottle into the windshield wiper water by the gas pumps. I did that a few times before I got the water added. Yeah, straight up ghetto, but it worked! I didn't have my radiator cap, still and at this point, I'm thinking I should probably keep a spare one in my car with how awful I am along with a battery and bottles of water! Ha! I laugh, but really, it's pretty pathetic that I can't remember to do something so simple. Anyway, I called Jesse and he drove 20 miles from work to bring me a $6 radiator cap. How many of YOUR husbands would do that? That's what I thought... I totally owe him. I thanked him by buying him a bottle of Coke and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups at the next open gas station. I drank half the Coke and Charlie had one of his peanut butter cups. Oh well. I did get him some Wendy's later on, though.

Charlie's guy-buddy Owen came over and we had a "pajama party". His mom saw Hot Tub Time Machine (I have to laugh! Just the concept sounds ridiculous and she said it was hilarious. Netflix! Cue that up!) So they had fun being guys and playing with cars and watching Yo Gabba Gabba and 16 and Pregnant with me. Good times. Owen enjoyed hanging out with Lulu too and he wants his own pug now.

Anyway, over all, it was an awesome day with some epic fails: sunburn, overheating, no water, and no radiator cap. Good times, good times. I know I'll sleep well tonight, if not for the fact I'm tired from running around all day, because I'm super exposed to sun and being in the sun makes me sleepy.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

It Takes A Village Isn't An Excuse To Not Parent

Time and time again I have seen examples of poor parenting and time and time again I get told I was a "sheltered" child or whatever. You know, I believe there are circumstances where it's ok to give a child some freedom and let them explore the world and learn and grow, but I also believe there are times when parents need to step up and be parents.

Case in point are little shit kids next door. I wish they lived in our complex because if they did, their parents would get shit from the landlords and probably be evicted, but they don't. They're in a totally different complex. The kids range in age from the youngest looking like he's about 4 or 5, the middle age who looks to be about 7, and the oldest, who looks to be 10 and overweight. Then there are the "supervising" preteen girls who look to be about 11 and 12 or 13. I'm pretty sure they're all related because they all live in the same apartment, same unit and I only see one set of parents. I'm also pretty sure their lease is like ours and allows two adults and two children, in which case they're about 3 kids over populated. Not as bad as some situations I've seen, but still.

So it starts when we first moved in. I go out to my car one day to find the 3 boys playing in our parking lot by the cars. I'm not sure what they're doing but it can't be any good. I asked if they live here and they said, "NO." I then asked if they have friends who live here and they say, "NO" again. At that point, I tell them if they do not live here and aren't visiting anyone and are doing stuff on our property, they are trespassing because our property is private and that places on our property like the halls, the back field, and parking lots are for the people who live in the building and that they have their own parking lot and communal grassy area to play at and they can go play there. The little ones look a little scared and confused and the oldest gives me a dirty look and they leave and play in a vacant field behind their complex.

A few days after that event, the kids are playing soccer in our driveway that goes from the street down to the driveway and is probably a good fifty feet or more. It's a long stretch. It's also hard to see people at sunset when the sun is glaring in your eyes as you go up the hill from the lot below and if someone didn't see them, they could easily get hit and injured or killed. They then stop playing soccer to dig in the dumpster on our property, which is again, private property. I've heard people saying before, "Oh but it's just trash, it's not like you want it anymore." True. But it's on private property. They are trespassing and stealing something (I don't care if it's just trash, it's on private property and they are taking something that does not belong to them, ergo, it's theft.) They get some sort of poles or something and start having sword fights in the drive way. I don't know if it was the sword fighting event or when they were playing basketball on their side of the fence, but they broke a slat on the wood fence that separates our complex from theirs. It could have been an accident, or it could be intentional, the fact of the matter is, now they have damaged property.

A few days after that, I saw two of the kids literally trespassing onto our property. Our complex has patios downstairs and there is a small wooden fence that blocks off the area between the patios downstairs and the street so they are private and secluded from the sidewalk and outsiders. Plus there is a hedge in front of the fence on the street side for added privacy. Well, the fat 10 year old and 7 year old were hopping over that fence and running around taking cans and making some sort of ruckus in the maintenance row that borders the back patios and fenced off from street area. The little one was a look out apparently because he made some sort of announcement and the two who were trespassing hauled ass over the fence and the three of them left.

Their behavior gets worse and worse. One day, Jesse is home and they are having sword fights in the driveway. He tells them to leave and they leave. A few minutes later, they are back. Jesse goes back down again and tells them he told them once and he's not going to tell them again, to leave. The oldest fat one says in a smart ass tone that they'll just come back, upon which Jesse tells them if they come back, then they can tell that to RPD because he will call the cops on them. They have been warned.

The fear of being arrested or dealing with cops must have worked. Temporarily. Not too long after that, they were once again playing in our driveway and so loud they woke Charlie up while he was napping. Now I know there aren't any laws about noise during day time and for that I am pretty annoyed, especially if I have a headache or Charlie is sleeping, but we deal with it. And it annoys me that my child can't get the rest he needs because of those stupid kids, but, it is what it is.

They have been back to their stupid antics lately. A few days ago, while pre-teen was out supervising, I saw a red truck driving out of their driveway and the 4 year old hanging onto the back of it, running after it as it drove off. I'm pretty sure the driver had no idea there was a 4 year old hanging onto his truck because if he did, logic would have said to stop. So the truck exits the driveway and proceeds to drive down the street, speeding up to the point the 4 year old can no longer hold on and loses his grip and almost falls to a loving road rash, but his limber little body manages to stay afoot and he continues to run with all his might in the middle of the street after the truck until he gets winded. None of the kids who were outside said anything or tried to call attention to the driver like, "Hey, there's a kid on your truck" and they certainly didn't tell the 4 year old to let go of the truck and not chase it. So for these girls who are in charge of the situation, they're not doing a very good job of it, especially since a child could have been seriously injured or killed if they fell and another car came whipping around the corner.

A few days ago I pretty much had the last of it. The 7 year old and 4 year old are walking home from school. Take in mind they live directly next door to us in the next complex. They run to the side fence that closes off the balconies from the street and I see them to see if they're going to hop it again and instead I see a stream of piss. That's right. They decide to pee on our fence. I was asked by a friend, "Oh like you've never peed on a fence..." No, I haven't. I may have peed in nature while camping, but I never peed on someone's property. And why did they have to do this when they live RIGHT NEXT DOOR!? Clearly it was an act of disrespect and juvenile hostility, like a dog that pisses on a fence as if to claim his territory. So I predict if they aren't doing so already, they will be marking their territory with Krylon and Sharpees soon.

Today, the younger preteen was casing the patio downstairs like she wanted to steal something from there. She kept walking up and down looking over the fence, then walking towards her property and back to the patio below us. She must have seen me watching her to see what she's doing because she backed off and left, came back again a few minutes later, and left a final time when I made it pretty clear someone was keeping an eye on whatever crime she was planning to commit.

Clearly their parents have no idea of what their kids are doing and if they did, I strongly doubt they care. So many parents are so quick to take the "It takes a village to raise a child" and take it in it's most literal essence and think, "I do not need to raise my child, simply pop it out. Everyone else will take care of it for me." You know what my problem is? My child. I have enough work to do raising my child, I'll be damned if you expect me to raise yours. If you truly want me to raise your child, I will call RPD every time your children are on my property when they have no reason to be. I will call RPD every time your children trespass onto fenced in areas when our maintenance man and repair people are really the only ones who belong back there. I will call RPD every time your kids chase cars, play in the street, piss on my fence and till there are enough nuissance reports that Child Protective Services gets involved because right now they won't because you have assigned your preteen girls to do your parenting when they are clearly no more capable of making responsible choices as the 4 year old. If I spoke Spanish or knew for a fact we would not wind up in a heated debate, I would go and tell you to take care of your kids, but the reality of it is, you would either not understand what I'm saying or you would defend your children saying they're not doing anything wrong when I've seen them commit crimes and vandalize property on multiple occasions. So if I need to have your 10 year old arrested before you think about taking a proactive move as a parent, then SO BE IT. All I can say is, these parents who don't watch their kids and have no idea of what their kids are doing or where they're at are the first ones to come crying, "My baby! My baby!" when their kids get abducted or murdered or whatever. They're also the ones to swear to the cops that their baby would never steal a car or vandalize property or assault someone for money or just to be a little shit with a power trip. They also are the ones who cry, "Why? Why?" as if they have no idea why their baby would break their heart and do horrible things. Why? Well, it's kind of a no brainer. It's because you sucked as a parent when your child needed the most discipline and rules. Because you gave them too much freedom too soon. Because you didn't teach them how to make proper decisions. Because obviously they didn't know the difference between right and wrong, or they did, but didn't care. Because your child has a lack of authority and they don't fear you, and they won't fear the law. These are our future gang members, druggies, criminals, murderers, what have you. Sure, they might wind up ok as adults, but more than likely, they'll wind up on a criminal path. You'll wind up dealing with juvenile detention authorities, having grandkids when your kid is 16 and you will constantly think that you did something wrong and blame yourself and at least then you'll realize where you fucked up. But by that time, it'll be too late.

The village it takes to raise a child, it doesn't mean leaving parenting up to the gov't and schools. It means you raise your kid. Us, your neighbors, coworkers, family members, etc. We set good examples of what moral people should be like when you grow up. We set examples of what is good and right in the world. We also set examples of what you shouldn't be (like the criminals, druggies, etc.) But we are by no means the ones who should set your rules or discipline your kids. That is up for the parent. You are your child's first line of authority. Have them grow up to respect you and your laws and they will grow up to respect those of the world around them. I'm sick of parents not being parents. Step up. You're capable of popping a kid out, now finish the job and raise them properly. If you can't do it, then put your kid up for adoption so they can go to someone who can. Sounds harsh? Maybe some parents need a swift kick in the ass to make them more responsible so their children can learn to BE responsible as well.

Monday, April 12, 2010

A Gal's Guide to Gun Shopping

You know, The Shirelles posted a very valid argument in their song "Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?" For those of you who live under a rock, it's an age old question: you find the perfect person and life is like you're in Heaven, but will it be that way forever? I love 60's girl groups because they had style, both musically and fashionably, but they also had great songs that range from fun poppy danceable tunes to songs that made you go, "Hmm..." On that note, I would like to touch base on a subject every woman should take into account when gun shopping. The gun you love today may not be the gun you love tomorrow.

If you are new to the world of guns, it is like being new to the world of dating. I'm speaking to the ladies right now, so guys, you can feel free to step away or eaves drop to hear the perverse world of girl talk. There is only one of you. There are a LOT of men in the world. You may see one guy one day, or hear your friends talk about how another guy is such a catch, and then when you date him, you realize he is a total douchebag. Maybe you have a short relationship. Maybe you're like me and date a guy for 5 years because you've been told that you will never find anyone better and you stay with that guy until you wind up hating him so much you wouldn't piss on him if he were on fire. Whatever the case may be, very rarely in life do we find Mr. Right right off the bat. I say rarely because I know there are maybe a few people in the world who do find their true love the first go at it, and that could apply to guns.

Chances are, if you have ever gone gun shopping, you will go up to a gun counter, hopefully knowing whether you want your gun for: protection at home or for concealed carry, but chances are, you will have a salesman hand you a little .38 special revolver, probably a Lady Smith because it says "Lady" on it and is made for women, even though some of the features that make it "Lady" friendly (like smaller grips) actually make it harder to shoot, or maybe they'll tell you a little Ruger LCP would be great because it's small enough to conceal. Or you will have a man tell you that you need to carry a Glock because that's what cops carry and you shouldn't buy any other gun for protection and you'll look at the thing and go, "What the hell?" at how huge it is and hopefully make a variation of the, "Are you out of your mind?" face to the salesman.

Granted, all three guns are great guns, but are they the right gun for YOU?

There's a lot you need to take into consideration. If you have never shot a gun in your life, first off, I highly advise you take a lesson to learn how to shoot. If you are in the greater Northern Nevada area, I highly recommend The Women's Shooting Academy. Their Ladies Intro to Handguns class is taught solely for women BY women. So you won't have anyone laughing at you if you need someone to show you how to load a magazine or wonder if there is a .38 regular since there is a .38 special. Trust me when I say no question is considered dumb when you're learning. In fact, questions are welcomed because that means you're curious and want to know more and that's what they like. Here in Nevada, you can go to a gun store, pass the background check, pay cash for your gun and walk out of the store with it in as little as 15 minutes on a good day. No one ever questions whether or not you know how to use it and while I love my gun rights, I also find it a little scary to think there are a lot of people who own guns and don't have the slightest clue what they are doing with them. After all, ignorance is one of the leading causes of gun related accidents.

So you've learned how to shoot. You know the basics of pistol safety and operation, you got the terminology down and you are ready to go out and buy a gun. Now what? Do you know what you want your gun to do for you? I think if you've taken a class or had a form of education, you probably know what you want. In fact, you probably have a pretty specific idea of what you want. I'll use one of my friends as an example. She likes little .38 revolvers. We've looked at guns before. She's fondled some of them, but she says that they don't feel comfortable. I'll use myself as an example. Something might feel good, but other aspects don't look good. Guess what? If you're not totally in love with a gun, it's probably not the right one for you! You wouldn't buy a dress if it didn't fit right. You wouldn't buy a purse you thought was ugly. Why would you buy a gun if it didn't meet your expectations?

You find a gun that feels good. You like the way it looks. Then you realize it's way out of your budget. Guess what? You know how you can find a dress that is super cute at Macy's for $150 and then go to Target and find one similar for $30? The same thing exists in the gun world! Like the Walther PPK? Don't feel like chucking out $500? Try the Bersa Thunder .380. Pretty much the same gun except with a slide release (bonus feature!) and it comes in a variety of finishes! My point is, if you find one gun you like and the price is a little steep, ask your gun dealer if another manufacturer makes a similar gun at a cheaper price. Another great option is buying a used gun. Just like you can buy a pair of designer jeans super cheap from a consignment shop, you can buy a high dollar gun at a cheaper price used. If you go this route, make sure you know what the ballpark range of that gun is used. I'll discuss this more later on. If you buy a used gun, it may be a wise idea to contact a gunsmith and ask them to take a look at it for you to see if everything is good and functioning before you take it out shooting. For the most part, you can get a great deal on a used gun in working condition and if it does have an issue with it, gun dealers will let you know up front.

OK, so back to gun dating. You finally bought your first gun. Maybe you have it for a few months or years, but more than likely, the more you start to shoot, the more you'll realize what you really want in a gun. I was like most women. I wanted something easy to use, easy to shoot, and that seemed familiar. Semi's seemed a little scary. My first real gun was a S&W 65-5 .357 magnum. It was a full sized revolver that was an ex-cop gun. I thought it was so cool. But the reality of it was, the only time I would shoot it was if I were taking photos of it. He was a very photogenic gun, but I found him to be clumsy and for lack of a better explanation, dull. He just didn't turn me on after a few months like he did when I bought him. My husband bought a 9mm Sig P226 and I thought he was way more interesting.

So, I did what any girl would do and broke up with my Smith, throwing him in a little gun bag in the safe and spent more time with some of the other guns I thought were more interesting. I flirted with what I thought was the Walther P-38 until I found out he was a liar and was actually a Walther P-1. I still liked him, but didn't understand why he had to pretend to be someone else. I liked him for how he shot, not what he was. But still, it was a hard to learn truth, like finding out you're adopted or something. It still doesn't sit quite well with me, but I don't hate him for it.

I always really liked the look of my husband's Makarov, but the first time I tried to shoot it, I could barely get the slide back to get a round in the chamber and when I finally did, the thing felt so snappy I didn't like it much. But I loved the size. A few years later, as I shot more and started developing better skills and abilities, I tried it again and liked it. A lot. After shooting and wanting a Walther PPK, I wound up going with a Bersa and we got married and have had a nice life for the past few years.

The sad thing is, I feel I may be growing bored of the Bersa and the nice thing about guns is while you might date several guns before finding Mr. Right Gun, even if you do marry a gun, I have learned that guns believe in polygamy and polyandry. They're totally OK with it if you want to have several guns. My husband, however, has taught me that if you do not shoot a gun enough, it gets mad at you and will not shoot right. While I think it his absolutely hilarious to hear him talk about a gun that way, I believe him, and not only because he is a gunsmith.

So here is another thing to take into consideration when you are out and about looking for a gun: the gun you love today may not be the gun you love tomorrow; and that is perfectly alright. But what do you do if you have a gun and you no longer like it after a few times shooting it, or a few months, or years? Just like picking out your original gun, you have as many options when it comes to upgrading (and I say upgrading because in reality, whenever you leave one man, you always wind up upgrading when you realize your last one was a total shmuck. Very rarely do you leave one loser for a bigger loser.)

Some gun stores will do trade ins for guns or flat out buy it from you. If you are unsure of your gun's worth you can look up it's value in the Blue Book of Gun Values. Face it, we're not all car geniuses and yet we've been able to take a little bit of info we know about a car to get it's Kelly Blue Book value. The Blue Book of Gun Values is the same way. You can buy the book or call a gun shop and give them a little info on your gun and they can give you a ballpark range of fair to mint values for trade in and private party sales. It's genius and they put one out every year. Be sure to know the price range of what your gun is worth when you plan on selling or trading it.

If you trade it, you'll probably get so much credit for it and have to add a little extra for your new purchase. If you do a private party sale, you can get more money from your gun and the easiest way is to go to a gun show and just walk around with a little sign on you with what you have and what you're asking for. My advice is to treat this like a car sale. Know your asking price and add about $50 to that and the Or Best Offer (OBO) listing. That way, if someone tries to go down on your price, you'll wind up with what your real asking price is or close to it. And make sure to have a set amount you will not go lower than. Know your gun. Take it for an appraisal at a gun store or with a gunsmith so if someone tries to tell you there's all these problems with it to low ball your price, you can turn around and tell them to quit being a cheapskate trying to rip you off and you wouldn't do business with them anyway! Most importantly, know your state's laws on private party sales. Here in Nevada (the northern part, not sure about Clark County), if it is a pistol you are selling, it has to be to someone 21 years old or older (that's a federal law), and they must be a Nevada resident. Be sure to check your laws on private party sales before going out and doing one if you are unsure.

And of course you can always keep your old gun and get another. There's nothing wrong with having extras. The way I see it, the more guns you have, the better. Variety is the spice of life. You don't just have one pair of shoes you wear every day with everything, you have choices. Why shouldn't your gun selection be that way? "What should I wear today? A dress or pants? Heels or flats? Kel-Tec P3-AT or XD 9 Sub Compact?" Of course you may wind up like me and have several pairs of shoes and guns but really only one pair and one pistol you wear regularly and that's OK.

That's the beauty of guns. They are something you will fall in love with once you get into them. You will go through many guns in your lifetime. You may have several at once or one at a time. Know your guns. Practice shooting them. Clean them regularly. Love them. Treat them well and they will treat you well. And if you decide you don't like one, you can always get another. But never by any means ever let anyone tell you what the right gun for you is. That's just as bad as your friends trying to set you up with a guy they know is totally wrong for you just for the sake of you being able to have a boyfriend. In that case, it's probably better to just not date at all until you find someone you like. Guns are the same way. Remember: never settle and you can always upgrade or add for more choices.

Saturday, April 10, 2010

Hell Froze Over and I Just Got The Memo

My Bersa is my go-to gun for when I'm out and about. I know there's a whole argument of people who swear a Bersa isn't a good carry gun and that whole counter argument of it's not about size but placement, and to that I say, if it's good enough for the Argentina Federal Police, it's good enough for me. (Note, they carry the full size 9 as their standard issue, however, it is said they carry the .380 as a backup.) Well, today my darling Bersa is out of commission because he will be used for teaching purposes, so that means I have to go with another gun. Drat. We have an array of pistols, all of which are on my permit, but none of them really wow me to the likes of wanting to carry them. (Read: they're too clunky for on body concealed carry.) Last night I was looking around and though I'd grumble and take the Glock 36. I've shot him a handful of times and don't think much of him in terms of desirability. Yeah, I can shoot him ok, but I really would rather not. The only Glock I kind of liked was the Glock 17 in 9 mm and we sold him to get the Glock 23, in .40. The Glock 23 is again, ok, and I'll say I like to shoot the .40 way more than the compact .45, but I just have this weird mental block against Glocks that I'm not a huge fan of their boxy design. I do, however, like their trigger safety and the fact that they have a little bit of weight to them considering they're a polymer gun. Anyway, the choices came down to a .38 revolver with 5 rounds that sticks out pretty bad unless I carry it small of back and I'm not a huge fan of the carry location or the gun itself, a full sized 9mm (Sig P226, which I absolutely love to shoot but dread carrying because the thing is like the size of a brick and oh-so-obvious), or the Glock 23. I chose the Glock.

Now I am a very firm believer that the first pistol you buy will never be the pistol you love years down the road. Guns are kind of like dating, I guess. You need to go through a few ok and maybe even terrible ones before you find the one you absolutely fall in love with. Where am I at right now? Well, I think me and Mr. Bersa may have a troubling time in our marriage. You see, this morning, I met Mr. Glock 23 and while he came off as cocky and superb and I wasn't a huge fan of his looks, he does have a great personality and is a great kisser. (What? Wait, did I just take a turn for the cheesy? Yeah. I just went there.) My point being, ladies, is that a gun you buy originally, may not be the gun you love down the road. The good thing is, we're not married to our guns, so there really isn't any obligation of having to stay with one for life. Yeah, it helps, but in all honesty, the more you play the field and play with other guns, the more you realize that maybe a 5 shot .38 revolver isn't the right gun for you. My very first pistol (not counting my plinker, which I also sold and regret having done so, but I did use that money to buy my Bersa) was a S&W .357 magnum. It was a full sized gun and I never shoot it. The closest I come to shooting it is when I use it for photos because it's such a photogenic gun. It wasn't until my third pistol in (the Bersa) that I found one I was very pleased with. Although this morning, I think I may be in love with the Glock 23 and this is like me completely going against everything I have ever said in the past. I feel weird and a little uncomfortable but slightly liberated. I can't explain.

Anyway, I may want to get one somewhere down the road in the olive green finish they come in. Just so I can say I'm part of that Glock crowd. Again, this all feels very strange and unfamiliar and I'm still coping with the fact I may like a Glock. I still want one of those new XD's in .40, though. I need a green gun because everyone is going green...

Visions of XD .45 Tacticals Danced In My Head...

Last night I had a dream where I was shooting my husband's new XD .45 Tactical. It wasn't some crazy dream where I was shooting at something horrible or having squib loads, just a boring dream in which I was shooting and having a good time practicing and just enjoying shooting that gun. I've only shot it once since he got it about a month ago and I do like it quite a bit.

The rest of the night was just a montage of various schematic drawings of guns. I love love LOVE schematic illustrations. I love any directional how-to visuals, instructions, be it text or illustration, and I love to see things taken apart. I do not like to take things apart myself other than the bare minimum required for fear of losing something or not getting it back together again, but come on, aren't these neat? I like the ones Numrich has on their site for part listings. Just for fun, a Mauser 98. I could easily do without the watermark, but hey, they have such a huge selection of schematics, who's going to complain?

Ridiculous Potential

One of my biggest complaints in life is that I have a photo on one of my ID's that looks like a mugshot you would see on The Smoking Gun or something. Our friend Dave, on the other hand, has this totally other take on ID photos in the sense that if you take a photo for something, you shouldn't get all dressed up because the reality of it is when you ever need to show your ID, you probably aren't all gussied up, so he goes in looking normal day-to-day, even if that means needing to shave or something.

Well, tonight I had a realization that Dave is right. No, I didn't need to whip out my ID for anyone, but I was walking Lulu for her evening potty. I was not all dressed up, in fact, I really wasn't dressed so to speak. I was wearing a nightgown that is a slinky navy blue with sea foam green polka dots, my fluffy cloud white spa robe, and my black rain boots that are covered with hot pink roses with green leaves, white accents and glitter. I looked absolutely ridiculous. My toenails were painted black, my finger nails a raspberry pink that matched my LCP. My hair was straightened and with the exception of my absurd outfit, I looked rather decent. Better than my photographs would allow one to think, anyway.

I had a moment of relief while walking Lulu tonight. We have a light on our street that is an automatic light and comes on and goes off at random. Right as I got to the street it turns off, making the street slightly darker than usual. We were on our way to Lulu's potty corner when a 6'ish man with an athletic build, baseball cap and goatee came down the street. I kept a nice grasp on my raspberry LCP in my pocket just in case. Lulu is a nice deterrent. She addresses a potential problem by getting all antsy and growls, then barks. I acknowledge the situation and hold her back while keeping eye contact on the man, examining as many details of his appearance as possible, as he gets closer. We move into the street and the guy says "good evening." I address him with a greeting of sort, keeping my eyes on him as we pass till he is at least 50 yards away while glancing ahead to see if there is anyone else. Sorry, I don't trust people. I read news stories and know people work in teams so it's good to know what's going on in your 360ยบ radius. By the time we get to the potty corner we're in the clear.

Anyway, when I got back inside, I told Jesse of my walk and how I felt better with my little raspberry with me. I don't like to think of what things would be like if I were ever out walking alone and needed protection and had nothing. I'd rather come home from walks going back over my plans coming into the house thinking, "Man, I'm glad I didn't get attacked by this guy because if I did and I would have had to shoot him, I'd feel silly when the cops show up seeing as I'm dressed in my pajamas and rain boots and they'd take my pink gun for evidence." I would feel ridiculous. But at least I can think I'm glad that didn't happen and laugh at my funny outfit and how I would be embarrassed to be dressed the way I do at night when no one sees me walking Lulu than I would feel if I were unarmed and picked up by cops naked after being raped or something, or worse be dead and feel nothing. Who says carrying a gun has to be scary?