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Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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Wednesday
Apr262006

The City Is Not My Friend Today

This latest Marah tour has been hell on my marriage. Is a successful marriage possible when a great distance is repeatedly shoved between those who long to be together? A relationship conducted through a string of texts and late night phone calls. Am I wrong for wanting to break my phone? Stomp it to pieces beneath my shoe.

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Tuesday
Apr252006

Self Portrait

This latest Marah tour has been hell on my marriage. Is a successful marriage possible when a great distance is repeatedly shoved between those who long to be together? A relationship conducted through a string of texts and late night phone calls. Am I wrong for wanting to break my phone? Stomp it to pieces beneath my shoe.

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Sunday
Apr232006

The Difference Between You And Me

Sure my work at the news station carves into my viewing time, but despite the inconvenience of earning a living I am KICKING YOUR ASS at television watching (amen sister!) I've decided I'm going to provide my own back-up choir for this post. I like the encouragement (right on sister friend!) See? Cool, huh?

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Wednesday
Apr192006

It Is...

It is my hope that I never communicate with The Surge's Ex ever again. It is also my hope that she and any acquaintances of hers choose to not log onto this blog anymore, from any computer. It is my decision not to share what has recently occurred to make me feel this way. It is my opinion that blogging details about silly girl drama would only prolong the juvenile behavior. It is still something that upsets me though.

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Monday
Apr172006

Sliding Doors

Here are the facts: A toddler is dead. 2-year-old David Pacheco was shot as he sat in his car seat on Easter Sunday. His mother was driving a car full of children to Easter services. Police believe her minivan drove through someone else's gun fight on East Tremont Avenue in The Bronx. Shots were fired. One bullet pierced a rear passenger door. A sliding door. In the car seat on the other side sat 2-year-old David Pacheco. Despite frantic efforts to perform CPR at the scene, the toddler was lifeless on arrival at the hospital.

I spent tonight writing about another senseless death. What are the odds of that bullet being fired at just the right angle at the exact moment a vehicle drove past? What if David was sitting in a different seat? What if his mom missed the last red light? What if she was driving a bit slower? What if the gunman had fired a second later. The what ifs will drive you insane.

What's the closest you came to death and didn't know it? What if you walked down one street and had you chosen the other you would have been hit by a car? What if you stopped on the yellow light and seconds later a car came roaring through the intersection and had you tried to make the yellow you would surely have been T-boned? Again, the what ifs will drive you crazy.

Like Sliding Doors starring that pink-faced Gwyneth Paltrow... A London woman's love life and career both hinge, unknown to her, on whether or not she catches a train. We see it both ways, in parallel. When the sliding doors of the tube car close on her, we get a glimpse of what would have happened if she'd made the train, and if she hadn't. It's a startling look at the little things that add up to one big thing. Life or death.

A fellow blogger and father of three, who knows I work in the news industry, emailed me the following:

"But here's what I couldn't shake today. Here's what I'm struggling with. David Pacheco. My guess is that you've already had your fill; already had to write/produce the stories. I found the intersection of W. Tremont and Harrison Ave. on the map today... and may try to find the words to deal with the fact that, not long before and after, and not far away, another three children were strapped into their booster seats on an Easter Sunday drive with their parents, only these three kids made it home alive. Can you imagine all the things in motion to bring that boy and that bullet together.... I feel shattered, Monica. Not sure if I'll pull the words together, but the picture of that bullet hole squarely in the center of that door will never leave me."