Working Girl

I am a working girl. I shake my money maker for a living, which as it turns out, happens to be a camera, which I don't shake as much as I gingerly transport to various locations to make pretty pictures for clients.

It's fun work, which is why I love it. I grew tired of crying at my desk at my last corporate job so I made a change. Best decision I ever made. That, and buying a juicer.

Now, just because it's fun, and not, say, curing cancer or cleaning up the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, doesn't make it any less important - to me. It's how I make my living and people tell me I'm good at it, so it would seem I'm on the right track.

I mention this because... Yesterday I watched an episode of the Rachel Zoe Project - don't judge me - it's fascinating to watch such a tiny, frail creature walk and talk like a real human.

I'm sure I watch her show for the same reason I like watching Kell on Earth, The City and one or two of the Real Housewives - women making their way in the world. I dig it. I've been a working girl for over 20 years - I identify with independent ladyfolk.

There is a point to all this... stay with me...

During the show, Rachel and her hubby are in New York for fashion week, having flown in a few days early to enjoy the city before the shows start. She gets a phone call from Naomi "Slappy" Campbell who's doing a charity fashion show and wants Rachel to style it.

Of course she's going to say yes - IT'S HER JOB. Her husband starts whining and carrying on about how he won't get to spend any time with her after all. She seemed to feel guilty about taking the job, stuck between a slappy rock & a whiny hard place, whereas I don't know if a man would feel guilt about taking on the work, or just annoyed at having a whiny spouse.

Now, if the tables were turned and HE had some "important" job and a client called needing his services, maybe Rachel would whine about it, but it would be dismissed as her being a baby and get over it honey cause daddy's gotta make a living so go shopping and buy yourself a hat.

I couldn't help but be annoyed by his reaction to her saying yes to a huge job, especially when her entire business depends on that phone ringing (and a silly reality show where she repeatedly says "major," but you get my point).

Except for not having my own reality show and never saying "major," that's pretty much how my business runs. I am dependent on someone deciding to pick up the phone to call and hire me. I don't (yet) have the luxury of saying No. What I said No to was a dreary 9-to-5 slogfest that makes me want to light shit on fire and stab people in the neck with pens.

Anyway... my point...

I get the feeling that, in general, working women still aren't taken seriously, or their jobs, by men. Like we're just playing Worky Lady but our *real* job is cleaning up the mess in the kitchen after cooking all the food. It's irrelevant what that job is, whether it's building rockets or playing with bracelets.

I say this because I've dealt with this first-hand. There are days when I am slammed with post-processing after shooting a large job. This is work that cannot be put off or done only between the hours of X and Y. It has to be done when it has to be done, which I can never predict, and that's how the job goes.

There was one time when I got the whiny "how much longer do you have to do that" response to me having to miss out on some TV to finish a job. Yes, I do have to do this now and I don't know for how much longer so you're going to have to put your big pants on and get yourself your own lollipop.

I'm sorry - that sounds shitty - but it was disappointing to realize that what I was doing wasn't taken as seriously as some other sort of job like, playing computer games. Turn the tables and you don't ever see me hanging in the doorway with a droopy lip wondering when we can go out & play. I'm happy to do my own thing until work is done, which, for the record, happens at least 75% of the time, because daddy's gotta make a living and I'm happy to let him make the hell out of it.

My point...

Boys, in my opinion, still aren't comfortable with girls saddling up and doing their own thing. Some may be - I think I know a few who are - though I wonder if they'd be supportive and understanding of the demands of their ladies' jobs and not get a little whiny if it started to cut in to playtime.

Of course all of this is based on the bulletproof scientific data of my one experience and the Rachel Zoe Project, which is totally major.

Spider Senses Aren't Enough

Chelsea King

Last week I saw a tweet from KTLA about a missing teenager who hadn't returned from a run in a county park. The story caught my eye not just because it was about a missing girl, but a runner out on her own.

Every time I run I'm alone. I ran by myself all the time when I was her age. I've run alone through city streets, parks, on beaches, in nice neighborhoods and not-so-nice neighborhoods - all sorts of places.

Every time I go out my spider senses are on high alert. I'd like to think that's enough, always ready to escape danger or fight for your life. My parents used to think me a bit paranoid, then I told them about being followed while out running - in the nicer neighborhoods, I might add.

The first time, a guy in his car followed me for over three miles, driving ahead and waiting for me to pass, then pulling out behind me, following me down the street and flipping u-turns when I crossed the street.

That was the fastest three miles I've ever run and I remember promising myself I'd never run after dark again. Um, I've not kept that promise.

Another time I was up in the Saratoga hills after a long track workout on my way back to school. The girls had left about 10 minutes ahead of me and the boys were still doing hill repeats about a mile away.

A car cruised down the narrow road behind me for a little while, then pulled over ahead of me asking for "directions." The only "directions" in that neighborhood are up the hill or down the hill - there was nothing else up there and no one wanders up there accidentally.

As soon as his car stopped, I stopped and started shouting "I don't know" over and over again, as loud as I could. I kept shouting at him and after a minute he got back into his car and drove off. I was rattled but eventually kept going, another lightning fast sprint back to safety.

Just the other night I went out after dark - I kinda had to - we'd had burgers for lunch at Joe's Cable Car Restaurant and you can't run on a pile of ground steak in your belly.

Alameda is one of the safest towns in the Bay Area - I've run here many times after dark, often fairly late when it's hot in the summer and I always feel totally secure.

That night I ran into a nearby schoolyard to grab a drink from the fountain. There are no lights on the playground so it's very dark. The only light comes from streetlights around the perimeter.

I crossed the blacktop where a few young kids were playing basketball, but the gate on the other side was chained & locked. I cruised along the fence to see if there was another opening and then I saw him. A large, shadowy figure standing on the other side of the fence, watching the playground.

He wasn't with the kids playing ball - they were way over on the other side of a large blacktop. He just stood there, staring. As soon as I saw him I calmly turned and ran back the way I came with a knot in my gut. Get away - just get away. And I did.

But Chelsea King was in a popular park in broad daylight, due home before it got dark. Even if she was hyper-aware of her surroundings, if the evil, shadowy figure is waiting for you and is twice your size and strength, spider senses won't be enough to get away from that.

Worse, this guy was a known sex offender and it was recommended he be locked up for a very long time. He should have never been allowed out of prison.

...Convicted 10 years ago of forcibly molesting a 13-year-old neighborhood girl. He allegedly hit the girl in the head repeatedly before she managed to escape to a neighbor's house.

Gardner pleaded guilty in May 2000 to two counts of forcible lewd act on a child and false imprisonment. He was sentenced to six years in prison. He served five years and was released in September 2005.

The San Diego Union Tribune is reporting that a psychiatrist urged a long sentence in the case because Gardner "would be a continued danger to underage girls in the community."

Prosecutors had initially charged Gardner with more-violent sex crimes in the case which could have resulted in a sentence of more than 30 years because the terms would have been served consecutively, the paper reported.

A plea deal allowed him to serve the sentences concurrently.

Gardner remained on parole until September 2008, and after that was required to register as a sex offender.

Reading that I'm reminded of my plan to just exterminate these people. There's no reason to keep a guy like this alive. He offers nothing to the planet. And what piece-of-shit prosecutor would allow a plea deal involving concurrent sentences? How is that even possible?

Prisons too crowded? Start with the sex offenders and exterminate every last violent criminal. Keep doing that. Maybe then things will start to change. Maybe then women won't feel like prey when we go out alone.

Does this prosecutor have a daughter? Wife? Sister? Whoever signed off on that plea deal should be put in the same deep hole in the ground with the rest of the criminals and set on fire.

Chelsea, I'm so sorry - for what happened to you, for your family, your friends - everyone who knew and loved you. It should not have happened. None of it makes any sense.


More about Chelsea King from the San Diego Union-Tribune:

Chelsea King was sociable and liked to have fun, but she also had an emerging worldview aimed at helping improve her community and the environment.

She liked hosting slumber parties, venturing out with her friends, playing the French horn and running. She also was a straight-A student, counseled her peers and cared enough about the environment to start eating only organic foods six months ago.

The 17-year-old senior at Poway High School had “big dreams, of not only seeing the world but healing the world,” her father said earlier this week... In an emotional interview Sunday, Brent King described his daughter as “a light bulb, just a piece of energy.”

“When she comes into a room, you know she’s there,” he said, “whether it’s because she’s got this huge smile and she’s lighting it up or because she’s stumbling around and making somebody laugh.”

That description was echoed by one of Chelsea’s closest friends, Tara Trujillo, 18, who said Monday that she was “very quirky and unique, very bubbly, and this person you always want to be around.”

Tara and Chelsea were on the cross-country team together. “That was one of her passions, running,” Trujillo said.

Chelsea also was interested in environmental studies. She had applied to many colleges and had been accepted so far at the University of British Columbia and the University of Washington.

“She wanted to go to a great school and wanted to concentrate on her grades,” her father said. “She’s just that kind of person. She always wanted to be better.”

Chelsea decided last year to try to eat organic because she was worried about the effect of pesticides on the environment, Brent King said. “She couldn’t stand the idea of eating processed food because they were destroying the planet,” he said.

Ian Roy, 18, said Monday that he knew Chelsea from taking honors and Advanced Placement classes with her. “She was just such a positive person,” he said. “She was very willing to learn, and she would always ask questions. She was very outgoing.”

Besides running, Chelsea’s after-school activities included playing the French horn with the San Diego Youth Symphony.

As a peer counselor, she helped students who were having trouble in their lives. In one instance, she sought to educate teens about eating disorders by organizing an awareness week at school.

Chelsea was born at Pomerado Hospital in Poway, but the family moved when she was young. They lived in the Chicago area for 12 years before her father, who worked in mortgage banking, was transferred to San Diego County in 2007, when Chelsea was a freshman.

The family — Chelsea’s younger brother is in eighth grade — lives in a gated community in northern Poway.

Chelsea’s close friends said that when she arrived at Poway High, she looked like a newcomer to Southern California. On one day, considered cold by San Diego-area standards, she wore shorts.

Despite the adjustment of moving from Chicago, Chelsea quickly joined a tightknit group.

Katie Chang, 17, said during a group interview Monday that she could tell immediately that Chelsea was nice. “We were part of the group that came up to her on her first day and invited her to eat lunch with us.”

Zoe said in that interview that the girls would have “sleepovers all the time,” and that some nights were spent working on school projects. The group would sometimes go on excursions, including a recent jaunt to Convoy Street in San Diego to experience Asian culture by singing karaoke and drinking “boba” tea with tapioca.

Katie said of Chelsea, “She was a really great person.”