Monday, January 15, 2018

Why It's Important To Always Have A Clean And Well Kept Home

My house was broken into today at some point.  But wait...let's bring it down a notch.  It wasn't exactly broken into, but rather strolled through by a complete stranger which apparently is just called "trespassing".  
I was leaving my house in a hurry this morning and taking my dog with me so she wouldn't be alone and I put her outside for one last go and I remember thinking what a pain in the ass my back door was.  I am good at locking up before I leave.  
Except for today.  
I remember looking at the front door and noting that the door was locked.  Awesome.  All set to leave.
I had taken care of all my things for the day:  picked up Farrah, spent time with James, stopped off at the store to grab an easy meal for me and Farrah for when we got home.  As soon as I pulled toward the house and the garage door opened, I noticed I didn't need to open the garage door as the front door to my house was wide open.
The front door to my house was WIDE OPEN.
I called James, "Ummmmm....someone's been in my house.  I distinctly remember NOT leaving the door wide open."
I called 911 and the dispatcher lady sounded more afraid than I did.  She'd asked if I wanted to stay on the phone until the police came and I said no.  I had to get off the phone and straighten out my head.
The first thing I said to my horrified child in the back seat was, "Well, it's a good thing we don't have anything that anyone wants."
"I do!!!" was her reply.  Apparently, I'm not good at soothing an eleven year old who has an awesome collection of everything in her room.  I let her know everything was going to be okay and once the police were there, we'd know if there was truly anything to be upset about.

Then we realized there was.

Our house.  I had left in such a hurry, I hadn't made my bed and I had a pile of towels that needed to be washed on the floor and clothes that needed to be hung up on the bed.  Bills that needed to be paid were on the kitchen table from going over them earlier.  I'd run the dishes, but there were more waiting for the next round in the sink for when I got home.
Then Farrah said, "Oh my god...are they going to go into my room?!!"
"Of course they are!"

Our conversations suddenly went from, "What if the TVs or computers were taken?" to "What if they see my bra, the mess on the floor, or dirty laundry?!!!"  Our idea of what mattered took a serious shift.  Hence, the title.

But here's what happened.  Three cops showed up, guns drawn, pounded on the outside of the house yelling, "Douglas County PD! Make yourself known!"  They repeated this three times and entered the house (we stayed in the car).  When the flashlights were on in Farrah's room, she freaked.  She freaked when they were in the office.  She sighed in relief when they were in the "hobby room" as it is the meditation and art it's pretty awesome.  When they came out to tell me the house was clear, they also told me what had happened.
In my rush to get Twig ready, I checked the front door lock, but neglected to check the back door she had just come through.  I'd left my back door completely accessible.  We went around and checked the house, all the while apologizing for the mess and getting comments like, "Serious?  This is not bad.  This looks like most homes."  Whew!  I needed to save a little dignity for the obvious negligence on the safety of my home.  
The person who came in, did so by jumping my fence after a long hike through fields, walked up to my door, opened it, and simply let themselves in.  From there...nothing.  As of this moment, I can't see that anything was taken, moved, or even added!  The cops said sometimes when it's someone on drugs, they go for food.  Nope.  But I might take a double inventory of my refrigerator and pantry tomorrow.

While Farrah and I made jokes to lighten things up because our adrenaline was on overload, it was completely unnerving seeing those footprints go from my fence and stomp all the way to my door to which that person felt it was okay to simply walk in.  It was a holiday for most people...we could've been home!  Then what?  

But the joking around made us both feel better like, "They probably saw the self-help books and figured...nah, it would be cruel to take something from someone with this many books."  Or, "They hung up a painting that isn't even a quarter of the way finished (Farrah's) and they don't even have their coo-coo clock wound up - what's wrong with these people?"  And of course, "Ummm, there really isn't anything here I want or need.  I'm just going to go.  But I'll leave a clue...the open front door."
Honestly, had they not left the door open, I would never have known there was someone in my house.

There are funnier things that went through my head and were discussed with friends, but some of which I'm just too tired to mention nor do I feel I want to share tonight.  The adrenaline has died down, the headache kicked in over an hour ago, and I'm exhausted.

Farrah is sleeping with me, the porch light is on, other lights are on, and the dog is in the room with us.  But my dog has barked three times since the incident and since the cops left and each time my adrenaline spikes and I'm not sure if I need to grab a weapon.

And even though I checked every door and window 10 times before Farrah fell asleep...I checked another 10 times, since.

Farrah said it correctly, "They saw my pictures.  I feel so...violated."  Even in a moment like that, I had to praise her on her vocabulary.  Very accurate.

So, how I see it - this person (who seems to have been a female), walked up to my porch after a hike, walked into my house without a care whether anyone was home or not since I had lights left on, then she walked across my living room to go out the front as a short cut to get through the community.  She literally took a stroll through my house.

Freakin' weird.

I apologize if this is a poorly written story, but I'm tired and still baffled by it all.  And now I have to sleep with the damn porch light on that beams into my room.  Awesome.  Thanks, asshole, for choosing my house.  As if I don't have other things to laundry.

Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Terrible Tuesday

Today happened to be "one of those days"....the kind where the planets were so out of alignment that I must've been in an entirely different solar system.  A complete disaster.

I was able to get yesterday and today off from my work in order to spend Farrah's birthday with her.  I was grateful for this because I don't miss her birthday...ever.  And when it's winter break - she is always on the west side of the mountains because I can't leave her home all day.

So, yesterday, I had a wonderful day with my daughter that was completely unforgettable.  Makeup for my 11 year old so she would learn how to wear makeup correctly without looking like a hooker at the age of 13.  Natural.  We had fun, stayed up again telling more of her baby stories, and then I had to send her to bed because I needed to get up early to head back to work.

And that's when the hell began...

I've been watching the pass reports and weather reports religiously because I know there are times it can get pretty bad.  Well, I was all dressed for work and packed, and said good bye to everyone with big hugs.  I even left early enough to get to my house first in order to get my dog situated before heading into the station.  I kept watching the pass report and it said it was rain and snow mixed; traction tires advised.  Easy enough! I was prepared.  I even looked at I-90/Snoqualmie Pass as a back up just in case like I always do...same conditions.
I got on the road, had my audiobook going, topped off with gas, picked up a coffee, and drove the 40 minute drive into Monroe.  The signs there before getting onto the main part of Hwy 2 still read "traction tires advised".
40 miles later into Skykomish where the base of the climb begins...there was a sign lit up and all I caught was the horrific word "CHAINS".  I drove until I found a place to do a U-turn and go back to make sure I read that right.

Guess what I don't have.  All wheel drive.  And guess what I had...chains.  Chains for one tire.  Awesome.  I let my boss know my situation and in the midst of my frustration, said screw it and headed back into Monroe (another 40 miles) to go buy chains for more than one tire.  When I got there, I pulled into a Napa Auto Parts to pick up work gloves and at the last second, an LED flashlight.  For the heck of it, I looked one more time in my trunk, and under a blanket was another set of chains.  Eureka!  They were Les Schwab so I drove to the Les Schwab to show me how to put on the chains.  I even did it twice on their model tire and chains to be certain it wouldn't be an issue.

I got to the chain-up area where there really wasn't much snow yet, but other people were stopped so I felt safe should I run into a problem and might need help.  Confident with my coat, boots, and work gloves on, along with my handy flashlight - I went to the trunk to grab the first set of chains.  I started to put them on and found that familiar rhythm from practicing, but when everything was all hooked and in its place...there was soooooo much loose chain.  W. T. F.
The chain was too big for my tires!  Awesome.  So, I went to remove it and this is when the fun started.  Let me point out that it wasn't really snowing as much as it was windy with downpour rain with some snow.  I was a mess.  I had unhooked everything and began to pull the cable when one of the many hooks decided to attach itself to the INSIDE of my front tire.  The only sized hands to fit there were mine...and they didn't fit and I didn't know where to find the hook.
Mind you, semi trucks, buses and pick ups were driving by going 60+ mph and I was one of those people in one of those shitty commercials where the mud and water got hit just right...right up my entire body and into my face.
I got into my car and inched the car forward about 6 inches, hoping this would allow me access to where I needed to reach.  Now it was worse.  The only way for my hand to get in was scrape my hand and wrist on a pointy part of the wheel.  Why is that even there?
I didn't want to cry, I didn't want to cry, I didn't want to cry.
Did I mention I had to pee?
I didn't want to need to pee, I didn't want to need to pee, I didn't want to need to pee.
I only got in my car once and screamed.  I thought that was a good release.
I had been there easily an hour dealing with this one chain on one wheel, still getting splashed by fast moving vehicles. earring fell out of my ear and the first thought that came to mind was, "This is where forensics will find my earring.  My arm will be lodged in the wheel of my car when someone loses control and either kills me or amputates my arm from my shoulder.  But my earring will still be there.  I put it in my pocket.
After my 100th internal temper-tantrum, I marched over to the semi-truck behind me and asked the man if he had any bolt cutters.  He told me he didn't, but had cable cutters then said, "I saw that you were still working on that one tire when I was finishing my 6th...let me take a look."  This made me want to cry on two different levels.  First, he was willing to help me.  Second, he had six friggin' tires done and I was killing myself over one.  The man had on the appropriate attire to get under and reach the problem.  At this point, I thanked him profusely, got in my car, and cried my eyes out.  I could hear my daughter in my own cries and I felt pathetic because I'm 40, not 11.  But god damn it, I felt like it!
So, since I failed horribly at chaining up my car, I headed back to mom and dad's in tears feeling completely defeated.  The whole time I was out there, I was scared, I was cold, I was inexperienced, and no matter how I tried to fix it or to calm myself - it just didn't work.  Besides that, no reception.  Thanks, AT&T.

I let my parents know I was on my way back to them, and unbeknownst to dad was already filling up his diesel Ford with a very large amount of dirt/rocks in the back to keep it heavy and to let me drive it in the morning - none of us felt safe driving at night when it was so unpredictable.  So, I got to mom and dad's, cried some more, and got out of my soaking wet clothes.  I had the heat on super high the whole drive back to their house and I was still freezing to the bone.

This day can now come to a close and tomorrow is my reset.  Parking will be a pain in the ass this week, but - oh well.  If you see a big red Ford F-350 - get out of the way because I probably won't see you.

Monday, December 18, 2017

Dear Farrah...You're 11 Today

Well, this is the year I get to do some extra bragging.

Being 10 has been a tough go at times, but a lot of it is because you're becoming more mature so fast and very observant about things going on around you.  You have a little sassy mouth (no clue where you got that, no clue at all) and you have no problem calling me out on bs.  I'll admit, I'm not the biggest fan, but when you finally calm down and tell me what is making you sassy, you and I can sit down and talk it out.  Doesn't always mean you're happy with the outcome, but you are much better at not having a complete breakdown - and I think everyone is happy about that.

You've slowly accepted changes in your life that include another person to our little family.  I'm proud of you to be able to find it in you to share me with another person.  But don't and I will always have our dance parties together and girl talks.

There are some areas that you need a little improvement, but I'm going to take a wild guess that you're not alone in this area (I could improve, too).  Putting your dirty clothes in your hamper to be cleaned and the clothes are ALL inside out.  Ugh - this kills me.  This is also why you've learned how to do your own laundry, now.  Now, you see how much it sucks to have to reset your clothes to being outside - in.  If only you could figure out how they become inside out in the first place...  In due time.

Drying your hair all the way through.  Yes, there can be eye rolling and pouting and irritability about having to have dry hair when I'm sending you off to school and it's below freezing outside.  How dare I?!  It might not seem like your style is to have dry hair, but I don't feel it's your style to get wretchedly sick, either.  Sorry, kiddo.  No coin toss on this subject.

You are officially an eleven year old who is basically a small adult.  We talk about stuff that is age appropriate...and sometimes we don't.  You want to know as much information as possible and I explain things to the best of my abilities and no longer keep things rated G, but rather PG-13.  But there's something about the fact that my filter has holes in it that helps expand your mind a bit.

You're so damn smart.  I'm pretty sure I've said that in all of your birthday blogs.  I couldn't have been more proud at your teacher-parent-student conference.  Your science teacher asked you questions very nonchalantly about the upcoming test that was three weeks out...and you answered every one correctly.  You were working on the food chain beginning with producers and ending with omnivores.  But you and a couple of your classmates challenged your teacher about where do cannibals fall in the food chain...and that began your conversation about where zombies would fall.  You spoke up at the conference and started listing where a zombie would be in several different levels of the food chain...I just sat back and listened to the two of you talk about the possibilities. Seriously...are you kidding me?  Straight A student and one that is used as an example with other students because you're also a social butterfly who enjoys your friends and making new ones.

Every day:
Farrah:  Guess what page I'm on.
Me:  350?
Farrah:  Higher
Me:  380
Farrah:  Lower
Me:  360
Farrah: Lower
Me:  355, 356, 357, 358?!!
Farrah:  Yes!


But your excitement to tell me how far along you are in the book you're reading, what's happened to the characters, what made you want to cry in the story, who died, who survived, and you tell me everything about each character...and there are usually as many characters in the books you read as there are in Game of Thrones.  That means I can't keep up except for a handful of characters.  So, sorry if I seem lost when you tell me, but it could be because I am....and it's time for me to start reading the books, too.

You are a rockstar.  You are my rockstar.  I love you more than you could possibly know and my love for you just gets bigger every day.  I didn't know the love I had for you from the day you were born would just continue to grow more and more.

So, today, my sweet girl...I wish you everything wonderful you could possibly imagine.  I want you to experience joy.  I want you to know nothing but happiness and ease in life.  I want you to do all the things you want to do without any worry.  My wish for you on your 11th birthday is just complete contentment and peace.  We'll do it together, Kitten.

Sunday, December 10, 2017

Dissecting A Christmas Song

I know I've written about this before.  In fact, it was this particular Christmas song that I wrote about and because I'm writing about it 10 years later can only mean that it bothered me enough to put the effort in for a second round of bitching about a song that many love.

"Do They Know It's Christmas Time"

Today is December 11th and this is the time when we get to hear Christmas songs.  There are a handful of ones that make me change the station on the radio faster than others.  Most are from Mariah Carey, one is from Madonna, and the worst....Band Aid's "Do They Know It's Christmas Time".  But because I work in radio...I listen.  And because I remembered hating that song so much, I listened even closer.

Here is the original version:

Paul Young
"It's Christmas time
There's no need to be afraid   (Except of my bank account)
At Christmas time
We let in light and we banish shade"

Boy George
"And in our world of plenty
We can spread a smile of joy
How your arms around the world
At Christmas time"

George Michael
"But say a prayer
Pray for the other ones
At Christmas time it's hard"

(See it get's a little confusing because one minute we're praying for the other ones and that Christmas tine is hard.  But right after that, we're having fun (see below).

Simon LeBon (Duran Duran)
"But when you're having fun
There's a world outside your window
And it's a world of dread and fear"

(I'm not trying to seem cold hearted because I'm a pretty empathetic person, but when I listen to Christmas music and I want to get in the spirit of things, "dread and fear" are not words I associate with.

"Where the only water flowing
Is the bitter sting of tears"

(Are you sure, Sting?  Are you sure that's the only water?  Have you looked at the map of Africa?)

Bono & Sting
"And the Christmas bells that ring there
Are the clanging chimes of doom"

(What does that sound like?  Chimes of doom.  Hmm.  Chimes. Of. Doom.  No idea - but I think I don't like that).

"Well tonight thank God it's them
Instead of you!"

(You know, Bono - I love U2 but this both shocked me but also cracked me up.  You nailed it.  Thank god it's them instead of you...well, yeah.  But don't you think this is an aggressively shitty and self serving thing to say?  I can answer that.  Yes.)

Boy George & Others
"And there won't be snow in Africa this Christmas time." (There is a ski resort in Drakensberg called the Tiffendel Resort.  Whoops!  It also snows in the Atlas Mountains.  * see picture below)

"The greatest gift they'll get this year is life - Ooooh". (Honestly, if you think about it - that's everyone's greatest gift...I'll take it.)
"Where nothing ever grows."   (Nothing ever grows.  How is there ANY life there on the continent?  I mean, the whole song is about Africa, not a particular country in Africa, right?  No?  Oh.)

"No rain or rivers flow"  (Central parts of Africa have accumulations of rain that can exceed that of parts of Scotland, you know, because of their rain forests. So...things RAIN FORESTS.  
No rivers flow - The Nile located in Egypt which is conveniently located in AFRICA.  The Nile is just the longest flowing river in the world.  But who's checking?  Not these writers.  I am.)

"Do they know it's Christmas time at all?"
(It's one day out of the year.  Seriously..."We Are the World" had a better impact and made more sense.  Do they care it's Christmas?  What about a few days after?  That day probably matters, too.  I don't know...just throwing it out there.

Marilyn & Glenn Gregory
Here's to you.      (Thank you.)

Paul Young
Raise a glass for everyone.  (Okay.)

Marilyn & Glenn Gregory
Here's to them           (Yes.)

Paul Young, Marilyn, & Glenn Gregory
Underneath the burning sun  (What?)

Do they know it's Christmas time at all

(Do the writers know if they're all Christians??  I'm going to take a wild guess that they don't know...because less than 50% actually are.  Still talking about the entire continent of Africa.  But just in case you were curious about just Ethiopia...43% are Christians).

Chorus:  All

Feed the world
Feed the world
Feed the world

Let them know it's Christmas time again

Feed the world
Let them know it's Christmas time again 

They're singing about a continent.  You know that Africa isn't a country, right?  Surprise!  It isn't.  The time the song was written, it was about the starvation that was going on in Ethiopia.  But who needs to know specifics?  Growing up, I assumed all of Africa was Ethiopia.  At the time, something needed to be done to help, but the song was not the answer.  Sorry, folks.
Also...the chorus finishes with "Feed the world"...well?  Ethiopia, Africa, or the world?  I'm confused.  

Again, I don't want to seem like I'm heartless or whatever, but I know I'm not the only one that has noticed the incorrectness of this song.  In fact, I was looking up the song and found that there is a newer version (where Bono doesn't make us all feel like shit for being thankful it's the people in Ethiopia starving instead of us - making it less traumatizing).  So there it is.

Merry Christmas and God Bless Us, Everyone.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

"Yo Kat!"

I learned today that a good friend passed away and while I'm crushed and my heart breaks for all that loved him, I've been flooded with so many awesome memories of Mr. Michael Lawrence.

"Kat" was the name he called me, even when I introduced myself as Kathy.  Apparently, that just wasn't going to work for him.  Mind you...Michael had the thickest Brooklyn accent and all I could ever think about when he'd talk and tell stories was the movie, Goodfellas.  Michael was loud and when he wanted your attention, he got it.  With me, it was always, "YO, KAT!!" followed by whatever he felt like talking about.

People would joke that he had mob ties...I flat out asked him.  Just a tap on the nose and a wink and a smile would be the answer.  So, of course I'd always flip him shit about it and poke at him and ask him how many people he whacked.  It was always hilarious because he knew I did it because of the accent, but also because of the black leather jacket he'd wear from time to time and whatever hairstyle he had going back then.

Michael always had your back - right or wrong...but only if he cared about you.  If he thought poorly of you, you knew.  You knew because he was honest and caring and was a no-bullshit kind of a guy.
He had his quirks just like everybody else and sometimes he'd piss you off, sometimes he'd get your eyes rolling so far in the back of your head you swear you saw your own brain, but all the good he put out in the world overshadowed anything that could ever be construed as imperfect.

Michael's laugh.  Completely loud, raspy, and hearty - if that even makes sense.  AND you could somehow hear the Brooklyn accent even in his laughter!  How is that possible?  He loved to laugh.  He loved to smile.  But he really loved seeing those things in the people around him.  No matter where that man went...from WA and all the way to Fl, he made friends wherever he went.  It came easy for him.  And if you were lucky enough to be one of his friends, you always got big bear hugs.

He knew how to read people, too.  He had a sense to figure someone out, whether they were someone worth knowing...or someone to kick to the curb.  There were a couple times I got warnings about what he thought of someone's integrity, and looking back, I should've listened.

There was one time that I was going through some hard stuff and there was a person he disliked very much who was the cause of my grief and he told me he'd take care of it.  No one else was in a position to do anything for me in that moment except for him and he promised to make what was hurting me, stop.  I cried when he said this because I knew he meant it and I knew he'd help me because I knew how much my friendship and my happiness meant to him - and him seeing me unhappy was unacceptable.  Of course, I said no - but knowing that he was again, no-bullshit, he'd take care of bringing my happiness back was overwhelming.

Michael was a good influence and a bad influence.  He was real.  We'd have chats from time to time about life, about his love life, about any upcoming surgeries he was not excited about, and about a whole lot of nothing.  He was a fun person.  He was a good person.  He was a brave person.  Who packs up all their things and moves clear across the country to try a new place, make new friends, and STILL maintain the old ones?  He did that.  I was sad when he moved because it felt like I was losing a part of my family.  But when I learned how happy he was out there, I was happy for him too.

So, I guess I had to write this as a means to deal with this right this second, knowing it will hit me again a little down the road and it will hurt all over again.  But I needed to get it out.  I will miss him. I will miss him terribly.  And the dumbest thing is I'll miss being called Kat...because he is the only person who has ever called me that and it stuck.  It was our thing.

Yo, will forever be loved and you will be missed.  Never ever forgotten because there's just too much to remember, my friend.  Not good bye...good journey.

Monday, May 08, 2017

An Early Traumatizing Experience

I remember being in the first grade and seeing my first violent death scene in real life and I wanted to share it here.  

I would've been about 6 or 7 and was waiting at the bus stop when I noticed a crow in the street just hopping around.  I could tell right away that there was something wrong with him as he was struggling terribly and I assumed he must've had a broken wing and even a possible broken leg.  The thing that warmed my heart was seeing a group of his buddies screaming at him to hurry and get out of the street.  I could tell they wanted him back to safety.  They cawed and cawed loudly, hopping around crazily, encouraging their dear friend that he needed to get his ass out of the street and they knew he could do it.  "C'mon, buddy!!!"

And then it happened...

A truck came storming down the street at a horribly fast 25mph, and the cawing got louder, the hopping got crazier, and the bird in the street knew he could make it if he could just get..that...last...bit...of...strength...


Feathers everywhere.

Crunch.  Crunch.

One car after another rolled over the bird and it was suddenly quiet.

His friends sadly came to his side and to say good bye to this soldier that tried hard to make it home to his family to live on a crippled, yet good life.

One of his friends bowed his head in what I can only assume was a prayer to send his buddy up to crow heaven.

Until he started to peck at his dead body.  He started to eat his friend.  One at a time, the crows came down and pecked and swallowed up his still warm body - flew away when cars came, then flew back and proceeded to enjoy their breakfast of champions...or losers.  He lost.

I don't remember why I watched this entire tragedy, but I did.  It was horrific as well as intriguing.

Oh well, waste not - want not.

It truly was the Circle of Life.

Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Children's Movies and Their Dead Parents (Straight Forward Title, Huh)

I had a conversation with Farrah on our drive home about animated movies.  She had recently seen the movie "Beauty and the Beast" and asked me why in the realistic versions of movies, they go into more detail about things.  I had explained there was more time that way and more adults were watching in order to justify giving a better back story to the story being told.  I said with the movie "Cinderella" they showed that the mother was very sick and that she died. No young child wants to see that.  Farrah told me that's what they did in "Beauty and the Beast", too. (We already knew the mom was dead, people.  Nothing got spoiled there - settle down).

So...after thinking about it for a minute, I pointed out something that I realized...

There are soooooo many animated children's movies that show that one or both of the parents of the main character are either dead or taken from them!  Seriously.  Think about it.  We did.  In fact, Farrah and I found ourselves horrifically entertained by listing the various movies that showed exactly what I'm talking about:

Cinderella (mom dies and gets replaced by shitty stepmom)
Finding Nemo (mom gets eaten by barracuda)
Sleeping Beauty (Aurora is taken from her parents - but, in the movie Malificent, the mother dies)
Tarzan (parents are dead)
Frozen (parents are dead)
Lilo and Stitch (parents are dead)
Jungle Book (parents are dead)
Lion King (dad dies)
Snow White (mom is dead)
Bambi (mom is alive...then dead)
Beauty and the Beast (mom is dead)
Little Mermaid (mom is dead)
Aladdin (parents are dead - then he finds his father in another movie, but mom...still dead)
The Princess and the Frog (dad is dead)
Kung Fu Panda (parents are dead)
Hunchback of Notre Dame (parents are dead)
Big Hero (Tadashi - Baymax's maker aka dad...dead)
How to Train Your Dragon 1 (mom is dead, dad is alive)
How to Train Your Dragon 2 (dad is dead, mom is alive)

And then there's the "not quite dead, but close enough" scenarios in theses movies:

Dumbo (mom gets taken to prison)
Pinochio (he's kidnapped and taken from his dad)
101 Dalmatians (pups are kidnapped)
Tangled (kidnapped and raised by fake mom)

So, those are the only ones I could come up with and I know I'm missing some.  For instance, I forgot to mention I need to tell you how her parents died?  Because they did.  Both of them.

Why do the story writers decide to go after children's deepest fears?  Seriously.  I get that they are showing how the characters grew up through such a tough experience and persevered, but did they really need to do it without their parents?  Why'd they have to die?  Why was it having a tragedy like a parent dying be the thing that made the kid strong?  I don't think that's how it works or what makes a person show their strength.  How about they lose their first job?  Or maybe they got an F on a test.  Or perhaps the parents are just divorced.  For shit's sake...Bambi's mom got shot.  SHOT!  Tadashi was blown up.  Quasimodo's parents were brutally murdered.  Elsa's parents were on the Titanic...I think.

Maybe the writers of these stories were actually parents themselves and knew if in real life, their child broke out in song one more god damn time and swung from the rafters and let a bunch of forest animals in the house, that would be the last freakin' straw and CPS would be knocking on their door.  That being the case, removing a parent or both parents for that matter, made the most sense.  It sounds like too much work to write them into the story, anyway.  Whatever the reason might have been, it's safe to say that apparently a kid without a parent can grow up to rule an entire kingdom and if that's the case, then Disney has given me permission to allow Farrah to do the rest of this growing up on her own because she'll probably be more successful at life without me.  Looks like I'm going to leave her the house and I'll go travel the world and I'll conveniently find her when she's the CEO of a major corporation.  Seems like the theme to follow.