October 23, 2005
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I’m somewhat surprised that I didn’t write about this when it happened, but it’s okay for me to back track. Last Sunday, at 7:40 AM, as I was watching a televangelist on TV from my couch, which is located right in front of a window, I heard a thud. I looked behind me towards the window, on which the drapes were closed. As I looked, I saw a shadow pass by the window.
Surprised, I went to get a bat. My uncle and sixteen-year-old cousin, the one who the family thought was pregnant, were in the nook eating breakfast. My uncle asked, “What are you doing?”
“I think someone jumped into our backyard,” I responded.
As I exited through our patio sliding doors, I choked up on the bat and proceeded to circle around to the side of the house where I suspected the person was. An African American teenage boy stood by the wall. “What are you doing here?” I asked.
I don’t exactly remember what he said, but it included that his name is Ronald Babineaux, he played football for Sacramento High, he knows my cousin and wanted to talk to her, she had asked him to come over, and he comes from a good family and wouldn’t steal anything.
I proceeded to explain to him that most people that want to talk to people either call, or if they want to talk to people in person, ring the doorbell. At that point my uncle peeked his head over the fence and he made the comment that Ronald is my cousin’s boyfriend. My uncle and cousin then came to the backyard and I went inside to get ready for church.
In retrospect, I wonder if I should’ve wailed on him for trespassing. Ronald got lucky, because I don’t think other people would be so calm if they found someone jumping their fence into their backyard. If he ever does that again, I don’t think that I will be as calm.
Between the pregnancy scare, the false alarm break-in, and the accident, I’m reminded that no matter how careful you are and how good you are, stuff is going to happen to you. How you deal with it is the only part of it that you are in control of. I’m thinking of getting a gun. Or a dog. Franz got me hooked on Akitas. But dogs are hard to take care of. At least I imagine that they are harder to take care of than guns. Then again, it would be harder to turn a dog on its owner than a gun.
On to better news. Gerald Bonifacio, the one I went to school with, was not the Gerry Bonifacio that was killed in Iraq. He wrote in his Xanga, that he hated being called Gerry. However, he also wrote in his Xanga that he is leaving the state for his service. God bless you Gerald.
Amelita and I went to the Cliffhouse today in San Francisco where I had swordfish with a white wine. She had a kobe beef pasta, which she didn’t like so much. I had warned her that if you were at an oceanside restaurant, you should take advantage by having the seafood. Beef doesn’t grow out in the sea. Regardless, I would have to recommend that place to everyone. It was nice because that is where I had proposed. It seems like only yesterday.
We took some nice pictures at Ocean Beach, went to Fisherman’s Wharf and Pier 39. It was a little bit chilly, but I enjoyed the weather. I had a good, fun, relaxing time, just being away from it all and forgetting about my responsibilities for a little bit, which I didn’t know I needed so badly. It doesn’t make all the problems go away, but it does replenish your spirit to take them on again, and it is a peek at how good life will be when you get past it all.
Some people say that alcohol acts as “courage juice” or “truth serum.” It’s too bad that our own minds keep us from being courageous or truthful to that extent. I truly believe that complete honesty, even if the result may hurt another, is still better than lying. The truth hurts, but the truth withheld yields a deeper wound when discovered.
