Questioning the Questionable...

If you are a reader of my book blog you may have noticed that it has been unusually quiet the last few days. I really like to have something for my readers to read or know about 2 -3 times a week, but lately...

I've been overwhelmed with information that has left me feeling angry, annoyed, defensive, angry, angry and angry.

First I had complaints about how many times I updated my Facebook status... then it was how I shouldn't be allowed to socialize on twitter... then it was my book reading choices.

All of it question-able.

I don't care what you think of my Facebook status updates. If it bothers you that much then un-friend me. They do allow that option, ya know. As far as twitter is concerned... these wonderful people have made my world a better place. The people I've unofficially "met" are so nice that I've labeled them all my twitter family. I'm protective of them. I cry with them.  I mourn with them. I rejoice with them.

If you don't want to be on Twitter then I forever invite you to stay off the Twitter feed, but to suggest I shouldn't be socializing with this wonderful group of people that I've never really met... Well, you're entitled to that opinion. Thanks for letting me know?

Which brings me to my books. And my blog.

I read a lot of crime fiction. It's true. Can't get enough of the stuff, myself. I also have a love for short stories and short story collections, and I even like this new-to-me genre I've found called, Noir. Love the stuff.

But I also like historical fiction, young adult books, children's books, paranormal romance (although romance itself is pretty much out) and I also developed a recent interest in poetry. I know! Me, liking poetry? Whoever would have thunk it?

Is it questionable? My reading?

Maybe it is for you. And that isn't wrong, but it also doesn't mean that I throw away my reading material because it isn't something that you like. I read what I like. You read what you like. Asking my husband to monitor me or even censor me in my blog writing... Well, that's when lines get crossed and I get to share my thoughts on the subject.

Which is this.

My guess would be that if I had decided to start a christian based book blog it would have been acceptable. Oh, wait. No, it wouldn't have, because then I would be reading books by authors of another faith that might have opposing viewpoints from my gospel teachings. It would have been a problem... For someone.

I read fiction. I want to make sure we are clear on that. It means that the books that I read are made up stories written by really creative people that have the gift of telling a story on paper. I consider them perfect.  The great thing about my blog is, if you don't like a book I suggest, you don't have to read it. The other great thing about my blog is, if you don't like it, you don't have to read it.

Simple...Yet so complicated for some.

I have this really great job that I love with all my heart. It exposes me to details of horrific crimes that have actually happened.  No author of fiction will ever fully grasp the details of the reports that I read day in and day out. They will never be able to fully describe the sound of a mother's voice when she calls 911 to report the murder of her son. Or accurately describe the catch in her voice when she realizes with perfect clarity that she is in the same room with the person that has committed the crime. I've heard the sound of a mother cry at such a loss and held her hand as we went through the court proceedings... together.  I've also seen the faces of men, women and children that have lost their lives in the most horrible of circumstances. These are the sights and sounds that truly haunt my dreams.  Not the made up words that I'm reading in a work of fiction.

So as you sit in your homes passing judgment on me and a group of individuals that have written stories and books that you have never read, know this...

They are my friends.

They are my inspiration.

They are people that make me a better person every single day.

I read what I feel is acceptable to me. I stay away from things that I have no interest in. For instance... Glenn Beck. You do know he isn't a Prophet of God, right? That the quotes you use from his books are not considered doctrine?  I know these things. Which is why I don't read his books.

See... I think things are questionable, too. I just don't feel it's my place to tell you what to read.

I don't know.  Maybe this post will make you feel better? Help you sleep at night?

Maybe.

Or should I start looking for a new job because the one I currently have can easily be labeled...

Questionable?

A Valentine's Day Special

Okay, so this isn't a typical post for a "family" blog, but...I'm not sharing anything too personal.

Richard dropped in for a visit while I was showering the other day. He started to sing this cheesy song by Bruno Mars that we had just listened to in the car on our way home from dinner the night before.  It's a "girly" song. I actually find it quite fun and I freely admit that I like to bop to the beat of the music on my way to work in the mornings.  Anyway, he changed the words around and made up his own, and well, it was just...fun!

We are also Glee fans. Say what you will about the show. I like it!  So, today I'm going to share the song that Richard sang to me in the shower. It was fun. It was spontaneous. It was us.

Have a wonderful Valentine's Day and many, many happy days after that!

Oh! And you get to hear the song being performed by the Glee kids! Woo Hoo!  Life doesn't get any sweeter than that!

"I THINK I WANNA MARRY YOU..." 
 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vCLbEHCyNa0

Saying Goodbye to Regret

The last few weeks I have been struggling with insecurity. It started with a phone call I received that brought me back to my childhood. A part of my life that has never been discussed in my family.  It was a year of my life that was extremely difficult, and also caused grief for many.  I'm writing about that experience today because I'm tired of it creeping up on me when the phone rings, and because I can't allow it to upset and control me anymore.  This is me letting go. Think what you will, but know that I hate being haunted by these memories.

I think as a child the world just seems...simple. I was living in what seemed like a horrible place. In relation to what a family life should be like, it was awful. But at the same time, when I set out to fix our circumstances and possibly change the course of my life I had no idea that there could be something worse waiting for me around the corner.  It's the only blind corner I've encountered in my life, and I can honestly say that if I could have seen around it I would have stayed in the hell that we were living in. I would have found a way to make it work. But, I think even as a child, we have our limits. At some point, regardless of age, we all make a decision.

I was chopping wood. My favorite thing to do in the Fall. It was a Saturday morning and I had managed to get my brother to swap chores for the day. It was just me in the cool crisp air, standing beneath the huge weeping willow tree that had grown for years on the south side of our home, planted and raised long before the Echols family had come along. I was taking in the smell of the wood stoves burning throughout the neighborhood and secretly wondering just how quickly I could make it through this pile of wood.    

I've always loved the smell of freshly cut wood, and the sounds of the wood splitting with each strike.  I considered myself lucky since most of my elementary school friends weren't allowed to participate in such a "difficult" task. Chopping kindling was my favorite part.  The smaller the pieces of wood became the more precise my aim would be. Seems like a metaphor now because the more difficult my options become as an adult, the more quick and precise I am at making a decision.

Okay, where were we?  Oh yes, the wood pile.

I had been chopping wood for about twenty minutes when the back door opened and my step-mother, Freda stepped out. She rummaged through the pile looking for a perfect piece of wood and then as quickly as she came, she was gone. She looked at me through the glass in the door as she locked it.  I could hear yelling inside. It was a horrible exchange between her and my brother and before I could process what was happening I could hear the sounds and literally feel the vibrations of feet running up to the second floor.

By the time I climbed up the wood pile and crawled through the laundry room window and made my way to the stairs...Freda was on her way down. It was at the moment when I passed her on the stairs and looked in her in the eye that I knew I had to do something to change our life. Our eldest siblings had all ran away from home and I knew it would be just a short time before my brother would do the same.  I also knew I would be next, and I didn't want to be next. I just wanted it to end.

I sat down with my father when he returned from over seas and I flat out told him that Freda needed to go. I was eleven at the time, and clearly I was better at this adult stuff then he was.  After all, this wasn't the first incident and we already knew that over time, the older you became the bigger the target you were.  It was a vicious cycle that would never end.  And to help him justify the decision I reminded him of things she had done over the years that were just...dumb. Remember the time she bought the new car without asking? Or when she insisted I eat the same bowl of disgusting stew every single day for every single meal for an entire week until you came home and stopped it? How about the time she bought that house on the other side of town and didn't bother to tell you?  Remember how you showed up at the old residence only to find out that we didn't live there anymore?  Or the times when I was grounded and was only allowed one meal and potty break a day?  Remember those plastic eggs you found in the bushes below my bedroom window?  Do I really need to tell you what they contained?  Or how about the fashion business she started?  DISASTER!

Obviously he agreed or I wouldn't be writing this post. I just assumed I would take over the household chores and be the woman of the house.  I had no idea there were actually laws in place that wouldn't allow children to live in a home without adult supervision.  At the time it just made perfect sense. I would do the cleaning and the cooking, Dad would set us up with all the food before he would leave on his business trips, and  we'd be there waiting when he came home every few weeks. It was such a simple solution to the problem.

But this is where the story takes a disastrous turn...

We were sent away. Two weeks later our bags were packed and we were shipped off to live with our sister and her husband and his family on the Island of Oahu. I'm sure most children would be envious. I admit, I was excited, and I couldn't wait to leave.  I imagined the warmth of the sun and the sounds of the ocean and  the feeling of sand between my toes.  Instead it was a blind corner. I couldn't see past the sun and the surf, and if I had been given any idea of what was really around that corner I would have put the brakes on the divorce and I would have made them stay married.  That's how much of a disaster this turned out to be. I was already living in hell and I was about to find out in the worst possible way, that there is indeed, a place even lower.

Without too many details, our living arrangements were less than stellar. We would be living in the bottom level of a two story home. The stairs were blocked off from the residence above, and our living arrangements were for 5 people to share a two bedroom and one bath section with a living / kitchen combo. My brother roomed with our nephew and I got the pull-out couch in the living / kitchen area. I wanted to tell my father that night when we called that we needed to go back, but...Howard told us what to say.  I watched roaches crawl across the dishes and ants feast in a corner all while trying to sound like I was living in the best environment a father could give me. There were mice.  We had lizards that crawled on the ceilings at night and would drop on our heads while we slept.  Not to mention the centipedes in the bathroom.  It was disgusting.

But...I honestly thought I could make it better. When I went to bed that night, knowing after the phone call that we wouldn't be returning home, I was resigned to my life and was willing to adjust.  I've always been willing to adjust.  But my resolve to make it work switched to despair when on that very first night- I was forced to  share my bed.  I tried to ask for help, but all my letters were stolen and  I was beaten more than once for trying to send letters to my father. I was there an entire school year and never once did I unpack my bag. My packed suitcase was always a symbol of hope. Something to look forward to, I suppose. Who knows now. And does it matter?

It ended. I survived. I moved forward...when I was forced to forget.

Unfortunately my inability to endure Freda has become my only regret in life. It wasn't because of what I went through. At the time, everyone said it was deserved. I do regret what it did to my brother and also for what it did to my eldest sister who has, for years, tried to seek forgiveness from me for the things she allowed to happen. But did she really allow these things to take place? In her mind she seems to think she did. And no matter how hard I try to move forward and try to forget, eventually the phone will ring.  The phone will ring and I'm forced to listen to an apology choked out through tears with such incredible sorrow that it forces the very breath from my lungs. She regrets the year in Hawaii and I regret the incident that led to it. I blame me and she blames herself.  In the end I always smile and tell her to let it go because until she finally comes to terms with it, I will never be allowed to forget. I'll be forever looking back...when all I really want to do is move forward.

I'm always trying to move forward now...and praying that the phone doesn't ring.

This post is being written  as a form  therapy and for personal growth.  If anyone reading this looks at me with sympathy I will personally scratch your eyes out.  Thanks for reading and I appreciate you visiting my blog.

When All Is Right With The World

Or should I say- when all is right in my world? 

The last four years have been an extremely difficult time for me with regards to my employment.  Our office saw the rise (and ultimate fall) of an incredibly corrupt elected official that did nothing but help herself to tax payers funds and make a complete mockery of a system that is supposed to be here as an example to the citizens of Salt Lake County. 

Her first item of business when she was elected was to request an incredible pay increase for a job she had never participated in and was never really qualified for.  She ran on the Republican ticket and her BYU education in the hopes that the citizens would be too "church struck" to notice that she was a wolf in sheep's clothing.

She then falsified statistics to secure funding for new attorneys to fight crime.  According to the arresting agencies in the area, they had never seen the same statistical increase that our office had.  The money was used to bring in her inexperienced friends to run divisions in our office from locations that seemed to be anywhere but at the office. 

She fired a former prosecutor with over 25 years of experience. It doesn't take a genius to know that the issue had to do with his audacity to run against her in the election.   Ultimately it was determined that his termination wasn't justified and he was reinstated.  Of course, she retaliated against him, costing the County hundreds of thousands of dollars to settle. It's amazing what pride can do, isn't it?

She instituted the Discovery Fee's that would ultimately require our office to charge private defense attorneys for access to our records.  Never mind that most of the discovery was being provided to our office free of charge by the arresting agency.  She stooped to a new low...all in the name of making a quick buck.

She unjustly spent federal grant money to hire people from her husbands private firm. Does anybody else see a problem with this?  These individuals didn't have to go through the proper hiring procedures and ultimately, more qualified individuals in Salt Lake County missed out on a great employment opportunity. 

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be forced to participate in conduct that you know is unethical?  Do you know how difficult it is to see people being mistreated in a work environment and know there isn't anything you can do to stop it because all of the officials in the office are just as bad as the "top dog?" 

Well, eventually we fought back. And...we won!

Tomorrow, Sim Gill, the newly elected Salt Lake County District Attorney will be taking an oath to protect the citizens of Salt Lake County. I'll be there to witness the event.  For many of us this will be a day of renewal.  A day that we've spent years waiting for.  It will be a time where we can finally let go of the past and all the things we've endured and have been forced to do, and know that as soon as that oath is taken...it all goes away and we can start over. 

Having witnessed first hand what this corruption can do...I personally will do whatever it takes to make sure this past individual never holds office again in the state of Utah.  When she decides to run for Mayor of Salt Lake County, I'll be there to remind the citizens why she wasn't reelected as District Attorney.  When she tries to run for Attorney General, I'll inform the citizens of her misconduct while serving as District Attorney and remind them that she still has yet to prosecute a felony.  If she can't prosecute even the simplest of cases at the local level then clearly, she isn't qualified to run an entire state judicial system.  I'll be there. I will always be there as a reminder of who she really is.  I will never let people forget. 

So, for the first time in a very long, long time...all is right in my world. 

Happy New Year!

I'M THANKFUL FOR...

MY HUSBAND-a house to call home-DORA-COPPER-family-books-twitter-warm clothes in the winter-FRIENDS-bottle caps-LUPUS RESEARCH INSTITUTE-cameras so I can take self portraits-vacations-coworkers that help out when I'm gone-my neighborhood-MY NEIGHBORS-the gospel of Jesus Christ-facebook-blogger-MY FRIENDS CALL ME KATE-green grass in the spring-DR. SHASKEY-music-people that inspire me-recipes-PARENTS-golf-people that write books-picture frames so I can see photos of me with my most adorable husband-the harrison family-the whipple family-the park family-the peterson family-THE BEZZANTS-the mechams-the gifford family-sister stoddard-the tarrants and their new little family-the allen family-the eddy family-the dymocks-THE BURBIDGE FAMILY-the herrera family-the hills-the hull family-the ogaard family-the murdocks-the maughans-the ovard family-sister ovard's mom (I can't remember her name, but she knows I love her because I give her hugs when I see her at church)-MIKE AND MARGIE PAGET-the pearce family-the phillips-sister polanco-the richharts-todd and melissa rogers-the rood family-the sochas-the stephens-veda welker-the twede family-the tuilimu family and little Isaac for calling me "teacher" every sunday-the thulin family and the way they quietly inspire others to do better and to learn more-the wildings-the wilkinsons-ALL 205 OF MY FACEBOOK FRIENDS (NOT BECAUSE I MEASURE MY WORTH BY NUMBERS, BUT BECAUSE I CAN'T BELIEVE I SUCKERED THAT MANY PEOPLE INTO BEING MY FRIEND-baptisms-missionaries-bookmarks-CYPRUS CREDIT UNION FOR NOT MAKING FUN OF ME FOR REFUSING TO USE THE DRIVE THRU TELLER THINGY-my trip to new york-THE NEW YORK TIMES-the internet that makes this post possible-lorin twede for being my friend on facebook-sara at work for always reading my blog posts and leaving me comments (my self worth is measured by the number of comments my posts receive) ELIZABETH WHITE FOR BEING KIND TO ME AND MY BOOK BLOG-joseph finder for not hating my review of Vanished-SISTERS-BROTHERS TOO-my father who has been my protector since birth-julianne connors for making me realize that even drunk drivers need to be forgiven (I'm still not quite over the memory loss part, but eventually I'll forgive you for that)-TURKEY DINNER-pumpkin pie-the right to vote lohra miller out of office-SIM GILL THE NEW DISTRICT ATTORNEY-did i mention books-MY 114 FOLLOWERS ON TWITTER-stephanie-vicki-jennifer-jacque-cindy-pam-christine-angela-adrianna-paula martin-leah anderson, a soon to be published author-gabrielle-rhonda-Denis-Ginger-Judge Katie Bernards-Goodman-my Vegas friends-MY MOTHER-my husbands dutch oven cooking skills-the bowden family-the eddingtons-the southworths-the ross family-my wonderful friends from Coos Bay, Oregon-always the parker family members-the entire coos bay ward for raising me right-and everyone and any item I might have forgotten about. 

 HAPPY THANKSGIVING!  THE OGDEN FAMILY

IS IT OVER?

I had the flu and ended up at the hospital twice for IV fluids.  My favorite peeps were on hand to help with the long task of finding the perfect vein.  They are by far the best IV installers I've ever met.  Thanks Peggy and Troy. YOU ROCK!

On day three of the flu a box arrived in the mail.  It was full of 9 beautiful books.  Thanks Elizabeth for sending me some great reads.  I can't wait to dive into The Breach by Patrick Lee.  It was recommended to me by his agent, Janet Reid.  Thanks to you, it is now one book I don't have to purchase.  YEAH ME! Or, should I say....YEAH ELIZABETH!

On day four I received another package.  It contained a book.  I won The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova from Back Bay Books.  Thanks Back Bay Books for being kind enough to give away books without me having to guess what books you have on your shelf.  NOTE:  I have a tendency to remember books by author and title, not publishing company. If you want to announce that you are giving away free books to anyone who would like one, DON'T make me play guessing games with you in order to get a damn book.  I don't know what "leftovers" you're trying to give away on that bookshelf of yours.  Just take my name when I respond and send me a damn book if you want to give them away.  Again, thanks Back Bay Books for The Swan Thieves by Elizabeth Kostova.

On day two or three of the dreaded flu, my hubby brought me home a box of my favorite candy.  BOTTLE CAPS!  (I'm perfectly aware that in computer world, all caps equals shouting.  I use all caps to show my enthusiasm.  Sorry if this offends.)  BOTTLE CAPS!  I love Bottle Caps.  That WONKA dude is one smart guy.  Did you know you can like WONKA and Bottle Caps on Facebook?  You can, and I did today.  I highly recommend you do the same!  BOTTLE CAPS RULE!

And that ends my little adventure this week.  I hope yours was as equally entertaining.  Well, minus the flu part and the hospital stuff. 

Much love- 

 Sabrina Ogden

Did I Really Particpate In A Facebook WAR?

Is it my fault some "friend" on Facebook left me a stupid comment?  I mean really, if you're going to discuss politics with me on Facebook you might want to make sure you actually know what it is you're saying.  Let's get a few things straight...

The District Attorney's Office does not have a voice in the House or the Senate, so voting for a Republican for District Attorney because you want the "GOP to win," really doesn't make much sense to me.  In fact, suggesting that it matters in any way does nothing but show your lack of understanding regarding local politics. 

I can understand that my response to your comment may have caused some undue...anger.  I mean, after all I did point out quite clearly that you "know crap about politics."  At that point, being you were on MY profile page, it would have been best to just 1) admit you made a mistake, and 2) get off my profile page and unfriend me if you felt it was necessary.  Unfortunately, you chose neither options.  Well, wait you did make a choice.  You chose to unfriend me, which was totally fine with me.  But your mistake was continuing to feed my profile page with derogatory remarks about my excitement for the District Attorney race as well as leave ridiculous rants about "THE MAN" I had been working so hard campaigning for.  Worse, you unfriended me before leaving the comments all  under the wrongful assumption that I would not know the comments were coming from you.  NEWSFLASH:  I have all the e-mail notifications on both my home computer and my Droid.  I tried repeatedly to tell you that I knew it was you...remember the initials?  That was for you.  Seriously, how could you not know that?

I guess if I had any regrets it would be that I engaged in the conduct at all.  I could have stopped it from the beginning if I had just deleted your comment.  All it would have taken was one little push of my finger on my Droid.  Or better yet, you could have just read my blog post about My Life As A Chameleon.  If you had done that to start with you never would have thought to engage me.  I think I make it pretty clear in that post that I have a tendency to spit fire on occasion.  This, was one of those times.  I spent close to thirty minutes removing the comments from my profile when I returned home from one of the most important wins in my life.  When I went to bed I was starting to feel remorse.  But, regardless, I'm not apologetic for the swearing, nor am I apologetic for leaving a note asking you to "refrain from leaving any further comments on my profile page."  Just so you know, I did the last one on purpose because I knew it would be circling around the HOME page to all of our mutual friends; to which there are many. 

In the end, I appreciate all the support that flooded my message box on Facebook.  It was nice to know so many "friends"  understood my "outburst" and were willing to share some stories of similar encounters with these people.  However, next time- I plan to take the high road and not even engage.  Some things just aren't worth my time.  Facebook Wars are one of them.