The Girls

Well, Jelly and Baby are getting along better. I see progress every month. As of just a couple days ago, Jelly is willing to jump up on the ottoman to lie down even if Baby is already perched there.

That's a big step for Jelly. And this morning when Baby jumped up on the bed and walked right over Jelly to lie down close to us both, Jelly didn't immediately jump off the bed like she normally would.

Baby has had some really sweet moments. She walks up to Jelly, sits next to her, and licks the side of her face! It's really cute. See, I told you she was really making an effort at this relationship. ;)

Not only that, but Jelly doesn't hiss at her when she does that. So, yes, we're making progress. Slowly but surely.

I wish I could say the same for this stupid NutriSystem diet. I am sorely disappointed after putting up with it for a whole eleven (endless) days now. My overall loss is just 1.5 pounds! I have stuck to the diet but somehow managed to gain back a pound. Ergh.

I know why - it's because I've been stuck indoors resting my knee. If I was outside doing my usual multi-mile walks almost daily, the pounds would probably be melting off.

Still, with all the starving I've been doing eating these low-calorie, low-carb meals—added to the grave suffering I've endured by completely giving up chocolate and popcorn, I feel I deserve more. I better see some improvement by Thursday or I'm gonna have to take drastic measures—like go for the cortisone shot in the knee. Yuk.

Oh, and by the way, I was just kidding when I wrote that the hamburger patty is probably something that you "just add water to" in order to get a burger out of it. Guess what?! I was right! You add boiling water to the plastic tray it comes in and let it sit for two minutes. Then you're supposed to put the soggy burger on a non-existent roll.

Check it out:

NutriSystem: Week One

I survived a week on NutriSystem without blowing it. It appears I've lost three pounds. Or maybe two. My scale tends to fluctuate. So let's call it 2.5. Not bad for a week of going to bed hungry, although I sure feel like I deserve more! But I won't make jokes about being hungry because it's a very real problem for a lot of people around the globe.

One thing that I've found about this diet is that I'm having the most bizarre dreams. One dream of a couple nights ago was so horrific (involving murder and dismemberment by hatchet), that I won't repeat the specific details here. Early this morning I went through an entire wedding day preparation that involved my ex-husband's little sister (whom I used to babysit back in the 1970's).

I know I could've lost more weight this week if it wasn't for my knee pain preventing me from walking my usual 10-15 miles. But the good news is that, as it turns out, the problem is not a torn meniscus (thank goodness) as previously diagnosed in a hurry by a local orthopaedic surgeon. Thanks to spending my entire $1,000 deductible on an MRI, it was revealed that this is a problem with the semitendinosus tendon—either it's irritated, or the pain stems from bursitis (fluid around the tendon). It sure helps having a sister-in-law who is the head of radiology at a Naval hospital.

At least I know I don't need surgery. I haven't decided whether to go back to the local doctor, who refuses to discuss possible treatment over the phone after all the money I've already shelled out for this. He obviously prefers that I fork over another $500 to sit in his waiting room for an hour and spend three very quick minutes with him before he rushes me out of his office to get to the next patient, only to find out he wants me to come back daily for expensive rehab that I could do myself at home. I just can't afford that right now.

Anyway, I can't believe I lasted a week on a diet. Yuk. I'm just no good at self-deprivation, except when it comes to the really bad addictions, like nicotine. Speaking of which, I just realized that it's been five years to the week since I quit smoking. Hence my chocolate addiction. . . . Oh, well. It could be worse.

NutriSystem: Day Four

Well, I'm almost done with the fourth day on this NutriSystem thing. Surprisingly enough, I haven't blown it yet. But after a week of this I'm sure I'll be craving some serious chocolate. Lots of it.

I gotta say, this might be an OK way to lose weight for the short-term, but there's no way I could eat this stuff on a regular basis. It's not great. In fact, the "beef pepper steak" I had for dinner was mostly liquid. I actually had to add some brown rice to my plate just to try to absorb some of the soupy stuff that had spread across the entire dinner plate. I couldn't even put my peas on the same plate. They would have drowned.

Same with the stroganoff last night - it was about 70% sauce, 29% little tiny beef-flavored chunks, and 1% pasta. I think there were two small pieces of pasta in the whole thing. Good thing I left that one in its plastic container instead of dumping it on my plate. I didn't like the taste - it reminded me of burnt roux. This is not my mother's stroganoff.

On Wednesday I'll weigh myself and we'll see where this gratification deprivation program is going.... It better be worth it!

NutriSystem: Not for the Hungry

I don't know what they call the "Freshman fifteen" for grad students, but I'm definitely suffering from it, whatever you want to call it. I've gained about 10 pounds since my last move in December. (Moving is my best weight loss program - works every time.) Between school, studying, a sit-down job, and all my various aches and pains that have forced me to cut down on exercise, I just couldn't keep the pounds off this year.

I've had a bad case of plantar fasciitis in my right foot for over 13 months, plus a painful right hamstring injury of some sort for 11 months that just hasn't healed yet. And today I was diagnosed with a meniscus tear in my right knee that I've had since late June. It's frustrating because walking is my favorite activity. In fact, it's a required activity because I don't own a car. When I lose that ability, it really screws up my day-to-day life.

So since I can't lose weight with exercise right now (and it's too soon to move again!), I thought I'd use my Costco discount to try out NutriSystem for 35 days. I managed to survive the first 1-1/2 days, but here it is 9PM on Day Two and I'm starving. Again. It's Friday night. It's time to put in a Netflix DVD and pop a big bowl of popcorn—in oil, of course! Oh, wait. That's not on my list of "allowed" foods. Drat. The only thing I can have the rest of the day is four servings of vegetables. Yuk. That's just not gonna cut it.

I'm not sure if I can make it a whole month and then some. Last night I was so hungry that I ended up going to bed at 9:30 just so I could sleep through the hunger. It was that or eat something and be a failure on my first NutriSystem day!

I didn't know what to expect when I ordered a month's worth of food online. Would it arrive frozen and packed in dry ice? Who knew? Boy was I disappointed when I discovered that what I got was a 46-pound box of MREs. Now I know what the astronauts get to dine on.

First of all, I don't have room in my apartment for 46 pounds of food. And secondly, I didn't know that a lot of this stuff requires that you add water and watch it grow into food in the microwave. Blech. That's no fun.

Don't get me wrong, the stuff tastes OK. But the portions are so small that you couldn't feed a bird with this stuff. I poured a little bag of cereal out into my bowl this morning and it was barely enough to cover the bottom of the bowl. I ate it in about 90 seconds. And then I was still hungry.

See, this is why I don't diet. For one thing, I can't go around hungry all day. For another thing, I don't like having my daily routine prescribed to me. And I don't like tracking everything I eat on paper. It's a pain and takes the fun out of my day. It's like organized exercise. I'm an adult; I don't want anyone else telling me what to eat or how high to jump. I like my freedom. In fact, I've been single for so long that I'm used to doing whatever I want and being spontaneous about it. If I'm in the mood for steak, I have a steak. A big spinach salad? Sure! Popcorn for dinner because I'm too tired to cook? Popcorn it is!

Those days are gone. With NutriSystem to look forward to, why get out of bed in the morning? Besides the tiny portion size, these NutriSystem meals just aren't appealing. There's a box marked "beef patty" that weighs about the same as six paper clips. I can't even look inside because I'm afraid I'll find out that I need to add water to this bun-less hamburger and call it"dinner."

Sure, I could do this for a month and probably lose 10-12 pounds. But then as soon as I go off, I'm going to want to reward myself with a big bowl of popcorn or some Giradeli triple-chocolate brownies. I'll go right back to my usual eating habits. What's the point?

I'll eat the stuff. I have to. I paid for it. But let me tell you, I don't give myself one more day of making this work. In fact, I probably won't make it through the next hour without making popcorn. I'm just not cut out for this!! Aaaaaagh!

Tanless Summer

This is the first summer in my recollection that I don't have a tan. I have been indoors too much. That's what summer school (and the D.C. heat and a bad right knee) will do to you. For the Masters program that I'm in, summer session means cramming 3.5 months' work into 10 short weeks. I swear I read over 900 pages of articles about cyber Ethics in that time.

Truth is, some of the ethics stuff was pretty cool - especially an article called The Dark Art of Interrogation by Mark Bowden. Most of us fail to receive ethics training when we enter our computer careers; it should be one of the first things taught and it should be regular corporate IT training. But I digress.

So I stayed inside every single weekend this summer. I had to stop my frequent walks in late June when my right knee went out (and stayed out!) anyway, so I spent the weekends icing my knee and doing school work. I managed to swing two A's out of it, so I can't complain. I am fortunate to have a 4.0 (which isn't saying much because it's based on only one semester's worth of classes because the previous semester's grades in the forensic pre-reqs don't count toward my GPA). We'll see how long it lasts. This ain't rocket science, but it's not undergrad school either. It takes a lot more effort to get an A than I'm accustomed to.

And, needless to say, it looks like I'm going to be unemployed again soon because the contract I'm working on is going south. There's nothing like paying two different companies to do the same job. Oops. I now have clarity on the phrase "good enough for government work," which my mom used to say to me when I was a kid. Need I say more?

That's OK. I'll survive. This job wasn't "me" anyway; I really didn't like the work, which didn't last long. It's been exactly five months since I started. But the staff has basically been sitting around the past eight weeks while the government works out the contract mess they're in, and I couldn't take much more of that. It's not easy spending eight hours a day doing next to nothing.

Besides, I'm ready to get out of IT work and do real forensics work. I can't wait until that day arrives. I'll have to start at the bottom and work my way up, but it'll be worth it to finally do something I'm passionate about. It's time I made my contribution to society—something beyond helping big-time corporate execs make their multi-million dollar bonuses. Ick.

It's corny, but I have a need to contribute to the greater good, not just be another cog in the corporate wheel. And I need a reason to get out of bed in the morning, a job that I'm excited about. If I can work in a law enforcement digital forensics lab for the same pay I was making in 1996—which is probably the way it'll go—I'll be happy. :)

Help Eliminate Binding Arbitration Agreements

Below is the crux of a letter that I'm sending to my Congressmen this week. (I've eliminated the first paragraph that contains personal information.) For more information, see the Arbitration Fairness Act of 2009. If you want to help save the consumer against the perils of big business gone bad, there's still plenty of time to contact your legislative representatives.

8
A couple of years ago I decided to have LASIK surgery to correct my poor vision. I didn't know anything about "binding arbitration" then. Just before going into surgery, I was asked to sign an arbitration agreement. When I read the agreement, I thought to myself, "They can't do that. Don't I have a constitutional right to a trial?" I questioned the doctor about it; she told me "Oh, that just means you have to go to arbitration first." She indicated that it didn't mean I was giving up any rights.

I was reluctant to sign the agreement but they would not perform the surgery without it. I'm just a consumer. I don't carry a lawyer around in my back pocket. I'd already sacrificed several hours' wages to make the 45-minute drive to the surgeon's office for various appointments. In addition, a friend of mine had driven me to the surgeon's office that day and I didn't want to inconvenience her. I felt like I had to go through with it. Without really understanding my rights, I signed the document and had the surgery.

To make a long story short, the surgery was botched, leaving me with a decentered ablation in my left eye. My vision is beyond blurry – it is blotchy, inconsistent, hypersensitive to light, it has floaters, and it is not correctible by any means – not by glasses, contacts or even another surgery. I've lost a lot of work time and wages since then, seeing many doctors and dealing with the big laser vision company and all the hoops they've made me jump through. I have headaches that render me unable to function at my job where I am unable to focus on the computer all day. I can't drive a car safely or drive at night at all.

Essentially, this surgery ruined my life. I can barely do my computer job, yet I have no legal recourse. Whenever I think about arbitration agreements and the unsuspecting consumers who sign them, I question how any such contract that removes my Sixth Amendment right to a trial can be legal.

Out of justice and fairness, please vote for the Arbitration Fairness Act of 2009. Your support is appreciated by American consumers everywhere.
7

New Toy for Jelly

Yesterday I went to the Pet Sage store to get cat food—they only sell the good stuff (all natural with no meat by-products).

Because Jelly is such a toy lover, I picked up two new toys. One is a wand with a dark fur band and rattle attached to the end. The other is just a little white fur band with feathers.

When I got home I put all my bags on the counter and floor of the kitchen and left to return the ZipCar across the street, a task that took all of maybe nine minutes. When I came back, I unloaded the groceries first, then I called the kitties to the kitchen, "Come see your new toys!"

I started taking the kitty stuff out of the cloth Whole Foods bag when I noticed that the feather toy was missing. I looked around for it. I thought back to when I checked the ZipCar for personal items before locking it up. It hadn't fallen out of the bag. Hmmm. Did I drop it in the parking garage? Did I even buy it to begin with?

I checked the receipt. Yup, I was charged for both toys but had come home with just one of them. So I called the store to ask if I'd left it behind on the counter when I checked out. They said they hadn't seen it but offered to refund my credit card. I took them up on it and said I'd just pick up another feather toy on my next visit.

A little later I went into my office (also known as the kitties' room). Almost immediately, I noticed the missing feather toy on the rug, half-buried in a pile of other kitty toys, the sales tag still attached. I wondered, "How did that get in here?"

A moment later I realized who the culprit was. While I was returning the ZipCar, Jelly had gone into the Whole Foods bag and retrieved only the feather toy out of the bottom of the bag, transporting it in her teeth to her toy haven. I couldn't believe how quickly she found it.

Of course, I immediately called the store and told them to cancel the credit. The woman was laughing and said of the feather toy, "Well at least we know it's a hit!"

I've never had a cat who enjoyed toys as much as Jelly. What a nut! Too bad she and Baby haven't become friends yet. :(

Case Dismissed

In case you've been following my story here about my deadbeat ex-tenant who never paid me one dime in rent and has made a career out of cheating creditors out of their money, here's a quick update.

Tonight I logged into the U.S. Bankruptcy Court web site to get the latest on the case. The confirmation hearing was scheduled for July 7, and any objections to the Ch. 13 Plan my debtor filed had to be submitted by June 30. I submitted my (three-page) objection, based on bad faith, last week. I checked the web site every couple days to see if my objection was logged. Tonight when I checked, instead I saw an "Order of Dismissal."

Woo-hoo! I queried the records. Turns out, the bankruptcy case was dismissed just yesterday because the debtor didn't file her tax returns as required. Probably because she either cheated on them or lied to the court about her income. Actually, I just learned recently from the online creditor register on her case that she owes the IRS $39,000. That's in addition to all the state taxes that she owes. So she simply doesn't pay taxes—year after year.

So, I'm relieved. Not because I'll be getting any money out of her anytime soon, but because this case was a big stressor in my life that I didn't need right now. (Like anyone needs a legal suit anytime.)

The bad news is I can't garnish her wages. Today's her last day of work on her current job. I ran to Kinko's tonight (got there 7 minutes before closing) to fax the dismissal paperwork to the wage garnishment department at my debtor's employer. She probably has at least one last paycheck coming to her. If the wage garnishment department doesn't screw me (again), then I should get 25% of whatever her remaining pay is from there. We shall see.

Then I need to follow her to her next job (if anyone will hire her) and try to beat the IRS and the state comptroller to her wages. Sigh.

Kitty Conundrum

The kitties are still here, still running lukewarm and cold with each other. And even calling it "lukewarm" is a stretch. There was one sweet moment that gave me hope last week when one of the kitties licked the other, and vice-versa. But it wasn't long before Baby was chasing down Jelly and I'd find my poor chubby baby four paws up, defenseless against my vicious princess.

One minute they're sitting next to each other on the ottoman, the next it's mayhem. Tonight they were both on the ottoman when Baby reached down and licked Jelly on her back. Jelly turned, hissed, and jumped off the ottoman. Rejected again! I think Baby lashes back because she's truly made an effort to be friends, but Jelly maintains her independence. She's just not a cat person.

I'm not giving up on them, though. I just can't. It's not like Jelly is afraid of Baby. If she was, she wouldn't walk right past Baby two minutes post-attack, as if nothing ever happened. And Baby is all bark and no bite, so I'm not worried about anyone getting hurt. We'll keep giving it another week and see what happens.

One of my cat friends from King Street Cats suggested I go away for a long weekend. Chances are, I'll come home and they'll be best friends.

Hello, Secret Service

There was an email at work last night about some K-9 sniffing drill going on in the parking garage this morning. I delete any emails having to do with parking, so I didn't read the whole thing.

About mid-morning I looked up from my computer and saw a couple strange men walking past my office door. The third guy to walk by had a small dog (with a big nose) on a leash. Like everyone else, I stepped out to see what was happening.

It turns out the K-9 sniff was building-wide. Our office is on the 12th (and highest) floor. Anyone who asked 'why the sniff' was told that it's just a drill.

It was about 12:50PM when a bunch of people were gathered in our kitchen looking out the window. Someone reported that Obama was coming at 1:00. We all hung out by that window for the next half hour, debating whether it was the President or his wife coming to visit. We watched local police blockade the street below our building and keep people off the street. We watched and laughed as police turned away a jogger running blindly through the plaza, headed straight for the entrance to our building intended for the presidential limo. This happened to several pedestrians beneath us.

In the reflection of the building windows directly across N. Pierce Street from our building, we could see at least two snipers, maybe three, on the roof above us. One of my colleagues took a photo in the reflection itself and emailed it to us later.

We waited. We joked. We got impatient. But we were all too excited to leave that window. Someone asked what's the charge code for frivolity. I had a Change Advisory Board meeting scheduled for 1:00 but none of us cared. Three of us raised our arms, announcing we had a quorum. Meeting over. So much for change management.

Finally, around 1:20, the suits on the street started to scramble and move into place. Secret Service. Then about 12 motorcycle cops came around the corner from Clarendon Blvd. and lined up in two-by-two formation on the street beneath our building. Several black motorcade vehicles followed, very quickly. There were two limos (one is always the decoy). The second limo pulled directly into a "tent" stood up outside the garage entrance. Then people in dark suits jumped out of all the vehicles, running under the tent. Following them were at least a dozen press personnel.

I shot pics with my LG phone and, of course, called Mom to tell her the President was entering our building. He was on the 3rd floor, which put me about 90 feet from him, as the crow flies straight up. That's probably the closest I've ever been to the President of the United States.

He stayed an hour. I didn't watch the departure (I was too busy downloading photos from my phone). It was just 49 minutes later that the news article popped up on my Google home page. The President was there visiting Year Up, a nonprofit program that trains 18-to-24-year-olds from urban backgrounds for college or professional work.

Pretty exciting stuff!

Sultry Hot Here!

The last time I was this miserable was when I lived in Maryland. It is unbearably humid here. Each morning I dread getting out of bed.

On the weekdays, I get up in the morning, spend time on the makeup and getting my thick hair all smooth and shiny with the curls finally resting in all the right places. I go outside, walk back to the corner, wait three minutes for the light to change, and walk the other direction to the Metro. Sometimes I have to run to make my train because the stupid walk light take eons.

Usually the escalator is broken at the Metro (it's a 50-50 chance). When it's out of commission, I take the two flights of stairs up to the outdoor platform and wait about six minutes in the thick hot air for the yellow train. I get into a barely air-conditioned car and start fanning myself with whatever ethics article I am supposed to be reading for class.

A couple minutes later I get off at the first stop and wait up to four minutes outdoors for the blue train. If I'm lucky there is a slight breeze. I get on board into a sometimes air-conditioned car. If I'm lucky I get a seat. By now I feel that one single droplet of sweat drip all the way down my back and into my waist band.

I fan myself. Depending on how many times the train stops and sits waiting for the platform ahead to clear, about twenty to thirty minutes later I get off at the Rosslyn station. I cross the platform and climb as far as I can up the 6-story escalator (one time I counted over 90 steps). Sometimes I stop to rest before continuing. I get to the top of the outdoor station and start walking up Wilson Boulevard to my office. I feel the hot sun searing my back.

Usually I'm carrying my purse, my eco-bag containing shoes, lunch, water bottle, etc., and my school book satchel. I hike several blocks all uphill to my office. I arrive in the un-airconditioned lobby, commiserate with the miserable security guard, and wait for one of the three slow elevators. I fan myself.

Eventually I make it to the 12th floor and go straight to the bathroom to dry off with paper towels and try to repair my hair. The back of my shirt is soaked. My underwear is soaked. The makeup is running off my shiny face - not worth fixing, so I just pat it dry. My mascara is smudged, giving me racoon eyes. My scalp is sweaty. My bangs are gone, having been replaced with curly, pointy, frizzy hair spikes sticking out from my forehead in multiple directions. My hair has doubled in size and is surrounded by a halo of frizz.

I look in the mirror and reiterate out loud how much I hate living here. I'm reminded that I have to face another eight hours on a job I hate. I walk to the office suite wanting nothing but a cool shower and a fresh change of clothes—something I won't be privy to for another 14 hours if it's a school day.

Someone says good morning and I grunt back, walking briskly to my dark office where I ensure that the thermostat is cranked down. I turn on the fan on my desk and plop myself in front of it. I put down my ethics fan and sit to change shoes. I'm so hot that all I can think about for the next 30 minutes is cooling off. Anyone who dares stop by my office and ask me to do work is immediately shunned with the fakest of smiles.

Thirty minutes later I feel a sinus infection coming on because I'm sitting in a blissfully freezing cold room in my still-damp clothes. I try to work. After about an hour my clothes are somewhat dry.

Eight hours drag miserably by, I change back into my walking shoes, and I do the humidity commute all over again.

Mean Girls

Last weekend Baby transformed into one mean girl. I think she got fed up with Jelly ignoring her after repeated attempts to get Jelly to "play" with her—the Baby version of playing, which is more like fighting than playing.

Three times I saw Baby chase Jelly down and attack her. Each time I yelled louder and made sure Baby knew that her behavior was not OK. I also stopped play-fighting with Baby (despite her requests to the contrary), something we used to do every night.

I think she got the message. She's been much sweeter to Jelly this week. I think Jelly is starting to chill a little, too. She still hisses when Baby ventures too close to sniff her, but I witnessed at least two encounters where Jelly resisted hissing. Maybe Jelly is finally starting to cave.

For a chubby little girl, Jelly sure is an active cat. She never stops squeaking at me, she loves to play with toys, and she runs around a lot. She's quite demanding of attention, constantly asking to be brushed or petted or fed catnip. And she eats twice as much as Baby

So, we're still hanging in there, despite the disastrous encounters of last weekend. We'll see what happens the coming week . . . .

Liar, Liar, Debtor on Fire!

I hate hearing about Welfare abuse—people taking advantage of the system that is designed to benefit those who are truly in need. Recently I learned of another such abuse—it's called filing for bankruptcy so you don't have to pay your bills.

Here's how it works. You rack up a bunch of bills like student loans and credit card debt. You sign a lease to rent a much larger, newer, luxury home to replace your cheesy apartment. You trade in your Kia SUV for a new 2008 Lincoln. You're living the high life as a single person making about $90,000 a year. As soon as you have everything you need, and you've racked up about $60,000 in debt and court judgments, you pay a lawyer half of his $3,000 fee and declare bankruptcy. Even if you are ineligible, you still get to do that. It's the law. And as soon as it happens, your creditors aren't allowed to collect a dime from you.

The system works for people who have lost their jobs and their homes, or for the seriously ill who have depleted their savings on medical care. It probably also works for people who lost their life savings to scum like Bernie Madoff. But it should not work for people like my ex-tenant who signed a lease but never payed me one dime in rent. And yet it does.

On Friday I lost another day's pay (plus the cost of a ZipCar rental) to drive an hour and 45 minutes to Baltimore to attend something called a "341 Creditors Meeting." My debtor was there, with her very young attorney. There is no judge at this meeting, just a Trustee, his assistant, and a very small audience of other indigents and their attorneys. I was the only creditor.

The first few cases I sat through went very quickly. There were no anomalies. When time came for my debtor's case to be called, the Trustee whispered something to his assistant and then brought in other people from the waiting room (who were scheduled for a later meeting). He knew that my debtor's case was a doozie, so he deliberately let others go first.

This might be because I'd sent him a 5-page report outlining fourteen false or otherwise inconsistent statements or claims that my debtor had made in her bankruptcy petition. The facts were all backed up based on information I obtained through my own investigation. (I spent a lot of time on this!)

When my debtor's case was called, I was invited to the table by the Trustee (whom I could tell was a man who does not take crap from people). Sitting directly next to the Trustee, I saw him silently read through my 5-page letter. The other parties at the table were unaware of what he was looking at. I was inwardly pleased that he cared. He then hid the letter beneath other paperwork in the thick file for my ex-tenant (let's call her G.S., but believe me, she's no girl scout).

After her identity was established and she was sworn in, G.S. was asked if everything in her paperwork was correct. That was Lie #1 (otherwise known as perjury). The Trustee first told her that she hadn't submitted her tax returns by the deadline and then called her to the mat on several other items in her paperwork.

This turned out to be the longest bankruptcy case of the morning. At one point the attorney claimed that he "thought" they'd filed an amended petition correcting one of the falsities that the Trustee nailed them on. This peeved the Trustee, who asked the attorney just when exactly such amendment was filed. Neither G.S. nor her lawyer could answer. The Trustee looked at his computer and said with the slightest aggravation, "It's not in the system" before continuing his questions.

Aside from other paperwork issues, G.S. actually failed to list two of her four previous bankruptcy filings, which she claimed that she didn't think she had to list because they were dismissed. The Trustee corrected her, indicating that the question clearly asks for all previous filings, not discharges, and that she'd failed to list a 2003 and a 2004 bankruptcy. Her statement of financial affairs failed to list her 2007 income. She failed to list any law suits within the past year, of which the Trustee knew there were two. Several amendments would have to be made to the petition.

The Trustee also asked her why I was not listed as a creditor, as I'd indicated in my letter to him. Instead, G.S. had listed the court (and the wrong amount for the judgement awarded to me). That too would have to be corrected in the petition.

The trustee questioned her $732/month charitable contribution claim on her list of monthly expenses. (Just like I later questioned how she could spend $250/month in gas.) She claimed the donations were for her church, and the Trustee asked if she could provide proof.

He brought up other inconsistencies that I'd outlined in my report, like the disclosure of compensation (to her attorney) showing three different amounts across the paperwork. He asked her if she'd had other bank accounts in the past year. On her paperwork she'd listed "none," but now, caught in another lie, she was forced to disclose three accounts she'd closed so I couldn't garnish them. When asked why she hadn't included it on her petition, she mumbled she must've forgotten.

He asked her if the Comptroller of Maryland was still garnishing her wages$mdash;a $2,458/month expense she claimed on her paperwork. That, too, was a lie, and I knew it. When he asked her if she'd sold or given away any property valued at over $200 in the past two years, I made a note on my legal pad.

Finally it came time for me to ask questions. First thing I said to her was, "Ms. S., you stated earlier that you hadn't sold or given away anything valued at $200 or more in the past two years, correct?" She reluctantly answered "Yes," not knowing what I knew. I looked directly at her and said, "What happened to your Kia Sorento?" I knew she'd traded it in on a new Lincoln just six weeks prior to her bankruptcy filing.

The look on her face. She stammered. "Uh... uh..." She started to answer but wasn't sure what to say. It's horrible being caught in a lie. She looked at her attorney, asking if she had to answer. He told her yes. She finally admitted, "I traded it in."

I questioned why she put $2566/month as her rent, when I knew it was $2200/month. She claimed she'd spread the security deposit out over six months (which is not rent). I caught her lying about her income, asking her which was the truth, "the time you said under oath on November 20, 2008, that your gross income is $10,000 a month, or the time you said under oath it is $7,500 a month?" She stammered again. "Uh... I was talking about gross income."

"So was I."

"Uh. . . it's closer to $7,500. . . I guess."

I asked her why she got a car loan for $37,885 for a car she claims is only worth $22,400 on her paperwork. She got defensive and said "It wasn't for that much" (a lie). This went on a little while longer before the Trustee nicely said I could have one more question since there were so many people waiting. I did. In the end, there were over a dozen "amendments" that she needed to make to her petition and her Ch. 13 plan. Of all the other cases in the room that day, not one change was needed. G.S. needed enough changes for several days' worth of cases.

If I was a judge, I'd dismiss the case now.

This is what I don't get. She still gets her confirmation hearing in July. She's guilty of perjury (many times over—in both this case and in mine against her last year), and yet she still gets relief from paying any of her debts. The honest, trustworthy creditors are the losers. What's wrong with this picture?

The whole thing sucks. Believe me, I've learned my lesson about giving the poor person with bad credit a "chance" because she's truly trying to clean up her credit so that she can buy my home from me. Get this - she used the same exact ruse on her new landlord in her new luxury town house that she moved into just six weeks before declaring bankruptcy.

She's a scam artist. Well, I guess you gotta be good at something. It's too bad that the courts give these thieves the benefit of the doubt as well.

Kitty Playland

I came home from work tonight to find cat toys scattered everywhere. It seems little miss Jelly Belly is a toy freak.

A few days ago I woke up and found a toy mouse in my bed. That's a first. Later I saw Jelly with a toy that I hadn't seen in eons. In fact, it's so old that it was one of Martin's early toys. I had no idea where she'd found it. The next day I saw another old mousie out on the floor that had never interested Baby.

I still wasn't sure where Jelly had found it until later when I was in my home office. Beyond the loveseat on the floor was a cat toy basket that I'd forgotten about, which had been stored on one of the lower shelves of my book case. I can picture Jelly standing up on her hind legs pulling it off the shelf. I'm sure that's exactly what happened.

Trust me, she's not destructive. She just loves her toys!

I wish she'd love Baby as much.

I am so proud of Baby. We've had Jelly for two weeks now. At first Baby gave her a hard time, chasing her down, and I felt sorry for Jelly. I was afraid that Baby would never give up the fight. But within 10 days Baby was like a new cat. She has tried several times to make friends with Jelly. And now Baby is literally falling over at Jelly's feet in an effort to be friends, but whenever Baby gets a tad too close, no matter how gentle and unagressive she is, Jelly hisses at her and walks away.

Earlier I gave them each some catnip on the kitty scratch pad. Jelly immediately started eating her pile of catnip; Baby started rolling in hers. (These are typical responses for each of them.) They were inches apart and all was fine for a minute until Jelly got hissy. Baby just looked at her as if to say, "Rats! I wish you'd play with me."

I'm still giving it time. Jelly is such a cute little girl. That squeak of hers makes me laugh. And the past three nights she's slept on my pillow just like Martin use to do, wrapped around my head.

Baby is really making an effort to be friends. When she gets in her playful mood at night she tries even harder to get Jelly's attention, but Jelly will have nothing to do with such foolishness.

We'll see. It could be that Jelly is better off as a single cat. Or, they might be best friends a couple weeks from now.

One Week with Jelly Belly

I must say, this is the third time I've tried (in as many years) to introduce a new cat to an existing cat in our home. I guess the third time is a charm, because things are really looking up for Baby and Jelly Belly.

I kept them separated the first day and a half. Sneaky little Jelly Belly managed to get out and was basically chased down and attacked by Baby three times. That's how the weekend went.

On Monday I worked from home. I have a tall stand-up desk in my home office that Baby likes to grace her presence with while I'm working. I figured that was a good time to let JB out of her space and let her wander around. Baby would feel safe up high, and the two would be able to observe one another without directly interacting.

In fact, I worked at home the first four days of the week and repeated the process each day. It seems to have worked. That, and the constant praising and petting of both of them to reassure them that they are both good girls. Trust me, that part makes a big difference!

I was also careful to quelch all of my "fears" about the relationship not working. Cats reign when it comes to reading human emotion. So I remained as positive and indifferent as possible, and I think both of them got good vibes.

After a couple days of that, I let them out in the same room where each was basically on the same level as the other. I had to break up relatively few skirmishes, each of which was less severe than the previous, until it primarily seemed to be nothing more than posturing.

Even as the two girls jockeyed for position, I was soooooo proud of Baby. She improved on getting past the whole "alpha stance" behavior much more quickly than I imagined. Jelly Baby has been quite a brave soul and relatively fearless—not to mention thankfully unaggressive toward Baby. I think that her easy-going personality has a lot to do with the success of this project.

Today I left home and went into my office to work, but I kept the girls separated; they weren't ready for unsupervised visitation with one another. When I got home, I let them both out. Each day they walk a bit closer to one another, with JB generally (and carefully) giving Baby a wide berth.

It was so cute. Baby went up to JB very gently and slowly, and she just sniffed the tip of her tail. Clearly she was making an effort. But JB hissed! Later, when Baby wasn't looking, JB walked up to her where she was lying on the carpet and sniffed at her tail in the same fashion. Baby turned, swatted with one paw, hissed, and threatened to attack.

But moments later both were fine. If I remain positive and continue with the hearty approbation, I think this is going to work!

Kitty v5.0

This weekend I volunteered at King Street Cats, helping out with Saturday adoptions. Of the 24 kitties that we are sheltering now, one of them was adopted yesterday - yay!

Um, and guess who was the adopter? Little did I know that I'd be coming home with Kitty version 5.0, but this little girl touched my heart and I just had to try her out as a companion for Baby. Starting next week, I'm going to be gone about 15 hours a day on Mondays and Tuesdays, and I hate to leave Baby alone that long. So I hope this works out.

The new kitty already has a new name, so that's a good sign. (Remember New Kitty the spaz from a year ago?) Well, this newer kitty was called Sable at first. You can see her on petfinder.org. Not unlike Baby, this poor thing has had two previous families - both military; both left her behind when re-stationed. Despite the trauma she has endured, she couldn't be sweeter. She's actually a snuggler! I'd never met a cat that snuggles with humans. And she squeaks. She's very talkative, but it comes out as a squeak, not a meow. It's so cute!

She's a slightly chubby Tuxedo—which just means an all-black cat with white feet, chest, and face. I Googled Tuxedo cat and found out that T.S. Eliot called these black-and-white cats "Jellicle Cats." A while after reading that, I was sitting on the floor with Sable when she walked away from me. I took one look at her squarish body and that paunch of hers, and out of my mouth came the words, "Jelly Belly!" She had a new name.

Baby is not pleased. I'm keeping the girls separated. Twice they accidentally ended up in the same room, and before I could stop it, an evil Baby (whom I didn't recognize as my sweet, lovable Chantilly kitty) viciously chased down Jelly Belly and attacked her. When I separated them and a couple chunks of fur settled to the floor, poor JB was lying on her back, all four paws up in the air. Now she's scared of Baby.

I have told Baby that she's made it quite clear that she is officially the Alpha cat, and she needs to leave it at that.

The reason this kitty captured my heart is she is what's called an "all-four declaw," which essentially means she's suffered through ten amputations. It's inhumane and can scar a cat for life (psychologically), not to mention leave the poor animal with all kinds of physical problems. Remember, when these 10 amputations occur, the cat isn't given a wheel chair to get around in—it still has to walk on all fours while they slowly heal, and it's excruciating.

On her first day here, Jelly Belly would try to jump up on the bed. But she'd miss and slide down the side. It about killed me to see that. She's only five years old and she's not that fat, so I couldn't understand why she couldn't jump up on the bed. Later I noticed that she frequently displays balance problems trying to walk. It's primarily in her hind legs. That's when I realized why she can't jump up on the bed - it's because she's an all-four declaw. She'll have problems walking and balancing for the rest of her life.

Many people don't realize the mutilation that declawing entails; when I was younger, I used to be one of those people who thought it was OK to get a cat's front claws removed. Now that I know how painful it is and the lasting effects it has on a cat, I'd never ever put a cat through that again. And a four-paw declaw is just cruel.

It breaks my heart. All the more reason to hope and pray that Baby will warm up to her and become her best friend. Jelly is going to need lots of loving.

Fingers are crossed! This girl is a real sweety, and I hope I can keep her.

No Justice for us Good Tax-paying Folk

If you want to learn how to screw your landlord out of his or her money, read on for some tips. I've learned a lot over the past 18 months from my deadbeat ex-tenant, who continues to get away with not paying me a dime despite the court order that she do so.

Unfortunately, it doesn't matter if someone breaks a lease, takes money from you, never pays their taxes, repeatedly commits perjury, doesn't show for trial, lies to the court about her whereabouts that day, and files a fraudulent bankruptcy petition (also chock full of lies) to stop a wage garnishment—the justice system ultimately errs on the deadbeat loser's side.

It's been nine months since the Court awarded a judgment in my favor. I haven't seen one dime from my ex-tenant the loser.

Thanks to the loser defendant's repeated schemes designed to get out of paying me, I find myself spending more time and money on this case. And unfortunately, it ain't over yet.

For one thing, she lied under oath throughout our case, and got away with it. She lied about her employment status and provided a false residential address on her responses to interrogatories, which are in written form but are signed under oath and penalty of perjury. She didn't show up for trial, then had the gall to write a letter to the court three weeks later saying she'd been called out of town on a "family emergency" on the day of trial. Accompanied by that letter was her request for a new trial, a request that she'd missed the deadline for by 10 days.

The problem is that the judge that reviewed the letter and illegal motion for a new trial must've been sleeping, because he/she called for a hearing, in complete disregard for proper procedure (and law). Never mind that I'd won the judgment, and the judgment was absolutely final as of ten days post-trial. Because some judge or clerk wasn't paying attention, I had to go back to court during Christmas week, to appear for the defendant's motion.

Guess what? The defendant did not show to argue her own motion. The judge literally laughed at the absurdity of us being there at all. (Why couldn't this have been the judge who reviewed the ludicrous motion?) My attorney and I were walking down the aisle away from the bench, and the judge couldn't stop laughing. We never should have been there that day.

So you'd think that would be it, right?

Wrong. It's difficult to get an uncooperative defendant to confess assets. When mine didn't do that (as ordered by the court), my lawyer had to remind her. So, last November, a full 60 days after the deadline, she responded to interrogatories yet again. And she lied yet again—claiming all her bank accounts (3 separate checking accounts) had a zero balance, and that she owns virtually no furniture, no clothing, no car, has no retirement accounts, etc.

So then I had to file a motion to compel her to come to court, bring specific financial records, and orally confess her assets to me in front of a judge. This was scheduled to happen on April 20 of this year.

Meanwhile, I had been unable to garnish the defendant's wages because I had to get in line behind the Comptroller of Maryland. Seems my deadbeat ex-tenant had a bad habit of not paying taxes. When I checked the court record, I found five tax liens against her, dating back six years. She somehow evaded paying over $60,000 in taxes. Most of that was written off in a Chapter 7 bankruptcy that was discharged on behalf of the defendant just three years ago.

The defendant had an attorney buddy call my lawyer early on in our case. This two-bit lawyer never entered an appearance and therefore couldn't legally represent her. But that didn't stop him from calling my attorney and lying about the defendant's employment status. He told my attorney, "You'll never get a dime out of her. She's unemployed. And she'll just file bankruptcy again." My lawyer was worried when he heard that, and so was I.

But I'd done my own investigation and found out about the defendant's previous bankruptcy. She had to wait eight years to be eligible for bankruptcy again. Great! Maybe there was hope yet.

Then later on, again based on hours and hours of my own investigation over several days that included Labor Day weekend last year, I tracked down her employer and found out she'd lied under oath about being unemployed. (That was also when I found out that she'd lied about being out of town on the day of our trial.) The garnishment would start as soon as her tax levy was paid off. Unfortunately, I lost my job two weeks later.

I did the math and found out that my garnishment would start in mid-April of this year. I was looking forward to collecting 25% of her wages every month until she left that job, which was a contract due to expire on June 30 of this year. I was due to collect just a few thousand dollars this way—only a portion of the judgment—but it would be a start.

In March, I did a little more investigating and discovered that the defendant had purchased a $38,000 Lincoln at the Ford dealership and had upgraded from her $1,300/month apartment to a new 2,100-square foot $2,200/month luxury town house. Her income was still the same. She still was paying a dime on her mounting student loans. She still owed me over $25,000.

And yet she was living in the lap of luxury, conning more suckers into signing leases with her and loaning her money that they'll never see a dime of. (As of March her credit rating had sunk to 466. She used her mom to co-sign the car loan application with her.)

On April 20 I gave up a day's pay and $75 for a ZipCar rental to drive up to Maryland for our court date. It was a nightmare. I was on the docket for "orals," which were supposed to start at 1:15PM. When I walked in at 12:45, a long-winded case was dragging out. I could tell it wasn't about to come to a close.

Finally, at 1:15, the judge stood up, announced she had to go get something to eat, and would be back within a half hour. She said that since there was no food in the building, she had to go off site and might take longer. I was worried because I knew I had to be out of there by 3:30PM to make it to class that evening.

So I sat on the hard wooden pew as the clock ticked off an hour. I'd spoken to the clerk already to let him know my situation. But I worried the entire time. The defendant hadn't shown, but if I walked out, there was nothing I could do to discover her assets. So I stayed and waited.

Finally the judge came back. I thought she was going to go back to that lengthy case, but she did the right thing and took the quick cases first, followed by orals. I was out by 2:30, but it was all bad news. When my turn came and I stood in front of the judge, she pulled out a piece of paper stating that the defendant had filed for bankruptcy the day before. I know my jaw dropped open. I didn't say one word. I knew the defendant wasn't eligible for bankruptcy, but somehow she'd gotten away with filing a petition for Ch. 13.

My heart sank. It was already a rotten day. I'd missed a day's pay. The hour-long drive up had been in pouring, blinding rain. My hair was toast. Now I had to bttle traffic back to VA, and I was going back empty handed. All that for nothing. My ex-tenant had managed to screw me again.

Hence began my investigation into the defendant's bankruptcy, into bankruptcy code in general, and into the MD bankruptcy court system. These things take time. Plus the paperwork I had to fill out to file a claim. Seems the loser forgot to put me down as a creditor on her petition. She knows I'm the creditor but listed the court as the creditor of the judgment instead, probably on the advice of her sleazy lawyer who never should have filed the bankruptcy to begin with (which, by the way, costs $3,000 to do). Not surprising. Maybe she thought I wouldn't find out about it and would miss the creditor's meeting on May 29 (that'll be another holiday week ruined with yet another trip to court to continue to battle this loser—not to mention, another day's pay lost).

I went through her bankruptcy report, which is downloadable online (for a fee, of course), and found several inconsistencies (read: lies) about her assets monthly living expenses. ($285 for a phone bill??) She even lied about the amount of rent she's paying, putting down $2566 instead of $2200. She lied about the tax levy, which shouldn't have shown up on the report at all because it was paid off. In addition, she exagerrated the amount of the levy. She lied about her monthly wage amount on her 11/20/08 interrogatories, as I found out from the bankruptcy petition.

So I spent hours yesterday before going to my volunteer job, writing up all these (and more) 'inconsistencies' to send to the trustee, along with my claim form. According to a bankruptcy attorney I spoke with last week, this particular trustee in Baltimore is pretty smart and doesn't let anyone pull the wool over his eyes. I hope that's true.

Unfortunately, that doesn't help me now. I received a letter from the Court stating that she is ineligible for bankruptcy—but that doesn't stop the proceedings. Unbelievable. This is what I do not comprehend. A person can continue to file bankruptcies to stop paying their debts, whether they are eligible or not. I can't garnish wages because filing a bankruptcy petition (fraudulent or not) invokes an automatic stay for the debtor's creditors. No one can collect squat until the case is either discharged or dismissed, and that will take months. And by then she'll have a different job and I'll have to spend more hours tracking her down all over again. And by then there'll be a new tax lien against her . . . well, you get the picture.

You can't get blood from this turnip. If my defendant continues to pursue this Ch. 13, she might be facing jail time and a $500,000 fine. Not because she's ineligible—because she lied under oath on her bankruptcy petition.

This isn't a fair world at all. Oh, and God I miss New York. Just had to throw that in . . . .

One Semester Down, Six to Go!

Wow, I can't believe that my first semester at GW is over. Those three and a half months went by fast. I had one final exam on Monday, which consisted of four essay questions, for my Criminal Investigations class. My other final exam, for Criminal Law, was 100 multiple choice questions plus extra credit for writing out the Fourth Amendment.

I have never enjoyed school more than I did this semester. In fact, I recall being so sick of school in my Junior year at Virginia Tech in 1984 that I dropped out . . . to work in pizza, no less! My, how things change in a quarter of a century. I only wish I'd chased this dream of mine years ago.

Well, I have 2.5 weeks off from school. Summer school starts May 18 and only lasts 10 weeks, so it's pretty intense. I'm taking Risk Analysis & Loss Prevention and Ethics & Leadership. Classes are three hours long, which will put me home around 9:30PM on school nights. Those are going to be some long days, leaving for work at 7:30AM and getting home 14 hours later. Poor Baby. She doesn't like to be alone that long. She really needs a playmate!

Off to bed. It'll be intersting trying to work tomorrow with a fried brain.

Baby Antics

What is it with cats and water? Several weeks ago, Baby stopped drinking from her fancy bubble fountain bowl. Since then, she only drinks from my water cups or licks up remnant water drops from the bathroom sink.

I keep a little acrylic water cup on the bathroom counter top. Every time I turn on the water in the bathroom sink, Baby comes running and jumps up onto the lavatory. She plops herself down on the counter and waits patiently for me to fill the cup for her, then she starts lapping away. Never mind that she has a full bowl of fresh bubbly water in the room where I feed her.

Almost always, I have a big glass of ice water next to me, either on my desk or on the table next to my TV chair. Baby doesn't hesitate to help herself. I know that cats like their water fresh, hence the bubble fountain which keeps the water circulating. I give the bowl a thorough cleaning every weekend and refill it with cold water from the Brita pitcher. What more could a cat ask for?

I recall Martin liked his water cold. So, with Baby, I've tried adding ice cubes to her bowl. Still no go. She liked her old fountain, which was on its last legs and finally had to be thrown away during the last move. She used the new bubble fountain for several months; suddenly, it just isn't cutting it for this spoiled little girl.

This is cat behavior that I just don't understand. True, they say that cats like their water really fresh. The bubble fountain should provide that. Several explanations are offered on this web page. The only one I haven't tried is separating her food and water dishes. I'll do that next and see what happens.

Surveillance: Not for the Weary

March 9th was surveillance night for my Criminal Investigations class. I had been looking forward to this night as much as our earlier crime scene night. The teacher warned us that our measely 1.5 hours of surveillance would wear us out.

She was right.

My team of four was tasked with tailing a young woman who had suffered a fall at her job at Staples. Doctor's orders mandated strict bed rest for this employee, who was receiving workman's compensation for her injury. She was supposed to be at home, healing.

The subject left by car, and we had two cars following her. I was a passenger in the second car. Naturally, we were parked on the opposite side of the road when our subject took off past us in the opposite direction. The lead car was able to stay behind her. (Thank goodness we opted to use two cars.) I had suggested GPS units, and my driver had one - but it was in his glove box, not mounted on the dash board ready to go. There wasn't enough time after we got going to set that up. (A huge chunk of surveillance is planning.)

Meanwhile, my partner circled around the block and managed to get on the wrong road. Using my cell phone, I remained in communication with the passenger of the lead car. He kept telling us "turn right on Fillmore," but we weren't even close to Fillmore. We were off in a completely wrong direction. I had brought a map and was juggling getting the GPS unit up while also looking at the map and talking to the other agent on the phone and trying to listen to my partner barking questions at me while I was on the phone listening to the other agent.

Finally, we were headed in the right direction. We turned on Fillmore, and found no Crate & Barrel, so we knew it was the wrong street. Our teammate couldn't remember the street name, so we went up another street and finally found the shopping center where the subject had pulled in and parked. We lucked out and got a parking space out front, like the subject, but on the other side of the median from her car. Perfect. Not only that, but the woman in the car parked in front of us came up to our window and told us to use her spot because there were still 30 minutes left on the meter. Such luck! We pulled up and parked.

Meanwhile, the other two agents had parked in the garage and alternately followed the subject into Barnes & Noble and Ann Taylor Loft. Fortunately, one of those agents got some fantastic photos of the subject bending and reaching for books in B&N. Unfortunately, he hadn't set his camera to date- and time-stamp the photos, like we'd all agreed ahead of time. He had the date stamp enabled, though, which is better than nothing—especially since his partner failed to enable the time/date stamp at all on her camera.

Communicating via Bluetooth, I got out and sat on a bench that faced the rear of the subject's Toyota hatchback. I was wearing a lavender cap and black pullover. It was windy that day—and COLD. I about froze my butt off sitting there while she shopped for what seemed like forever. I realized I needed a prop, so I called another agent on my cell and had her bring a notebook over for me to casually flip through as I waited.

The subject shopped in just about every store at this outdoor mall in Arlington. We watched her go to William-Sonoma, Pottery Barn, Crate & Barrel and more. But surveillance was tough without having 4-way communication available to us. I had a Bluetooth headset and kept my phone in my pocket. I was pretty much on the phone with one of my teammates for the entire exercise, until near the end.

It was clear that our subject was feeling no back pain. She was out out trouncing around in her high heels, shopping, bending over and reaching up for books at B&N, and looking completely healthy. She even picked up a huge 15-lb. vase in C&B and set it back down.

As I sat on the bench, trying not to shiver or look obvious, I came up with a plan to get the subject to bend over. All I needed was for one of my fellow agents to photograph the encounter. I was on the phone with another agent when I asked him to call my partner and tell him to get his camera ready and be in position when the subject returned to her car and I accosted her.

I continued lying in wait while the other agents moved about.

Suddenly, my partner took off in his car. Another agent called me wondering where in the heck he was going? Our subject was on foot and we had a perfectly good parking space, yet this agent left the scene—and without communicating with any of us. It made no sense. I asked my fellow agents to be ready with their cameras.

When the subject returned to her car, I photographed her from about 20 feet away, right behind her, as she bent over and looked in the hatch. I was still snapping photos as I walked right up to her and called out, "Is this your car?" Hiding the camera when she turned to face me, I told her, "That guy in front of you hit your car when he was parking," pointing at the blue SUV parked in front of her. Sure enough, the ruse worked. We went over together to look at her front bumper. She easily squatted down to get a closer look. I'm praying that someone on my team is shooting the scene.

Nope. No such luck. My partner had returned and was looking for a parking space, of which there were none available. I parted ways with the subject, crossed the median, and signaled my partner to pick me up. In the car, I removed my hat, let my hair down, and put on a beige winter coat—all part of the plan we each had to change our appearance.

I went inside Crate & Barrel where there was a perfect window view to her car. I spoke to my partner on the cell phone, and we agreed he'd call me when the subject left Baja Fresh and headed back to her car. I was going to photograph her getting into her car and driving off. Meanwhile, I kept an eye out as best as I could from inside the store, hoping the store clerks wouldn't think I was a shoplifter. I made a small purchase and hung out, awaiting my partner's call and periodically passing by that window.

Finally I saw the car leaving. I was too late! My partner hadn't called as planned. He later claimed he texted me instead, but I never got a message from him. It wouldn't have mattered; my phone was in my pocket and I never would have heard the text alert.

Despite all of our little blunders, my team managed to get some great photos of the subject bending over, carrying shopping bags, squatting, reaching, walking in high heels, etc. We pulled the info together into a report with a timeline of our subject's activities and will present it on Monday.

It was fun! I must say, though, riding home on the subway that night, I suddenly found myself exhausted. I can't imagine how tired I'd be had I participated in a surveillance that lasted 12-18 hours, as can be the case in real life.

You gotta love this stuff! I've never enjoyed school this much in my life. Guess I finally picked the right field to study. And I'm 45 years old today, so it's about time!