Bittersweet

Detective Tim Kluntz interviewed dancers at the club who knew Berthiaume as “Phoenix,” and told him they The night she died, Berthiaume called Delucia. She sounded desperate, he said, and she needed something to “get straight.” He knew she wanted heroin, he told police.

With $75 he bought five packets stamped with “No. 1″ from two men in the back of a garage on Meriden Road, he told police. He mounted his motorcycle, drove to the club and slipped Berthiaume a dose of drugs that would end her life.

She thanked him with a kiss, then disappeared for about 15 minutes, he said. But when Delucia heard a commotion near the bathroom, he ignored it and was later told a dancer had overdosed, he told police.

The heroin found in Berthiaume’s purse was 59.8 percent pure, according to court documents. Although her death was ruled an accident, she died of heroin intoxication.

Rep-Am.com

Naturally, I can’t find the link to the original article, neither on the paper’s website nor via Google.

UPDATE 04/06/2009: I just recently found out that it’s illegal to post the entire article without the paper’s permission, so the above is only an excerpt. The gist of it is that the police tracked down the guy who sold our Liane the heroin she overdosed with, and he is being charged with manslaughter. He’s been convicted for various things before, so his chances of getting away with this are pretty low.

I’m sort of glad to see they got him, but sad that it won’t bring her back. I haven’t heard anything since I originally posted the article.

Her name was Elaine

This morning, one of my grandmother’s best friends passed away. She had cancer and they had taken her off all treatment and machines a few days ago because she had stopped responding to treatment. We knew it was only a matter of time, but it still sucks.

Rest in peace, Elaine

Rest in peace, Elaine

Elaine was one of those people that you couldn’t help but listen to. As a kid I loved sitting around the campfire up at the lake and listening to her and her husband Larry talk about anything from baseball to art to philosophy to jokes. She was a tiny, strong woman and I think I speak for everyone I know when I say that I loved her dearly. I wish I’d gotten another night to sit around the campfire and talk with her.

It seems like everyone I know is dying lately. These things really do come in threes. I’m not sure if I can handle going to another funeral, but I want to be there for Noni (my grandma). I do know that if there is going to be a wake I will probably steer clear of that. I just can’t handle wakes anymore. Continue reading

Caution: Real post ahead!

My life has been an Alanis Morissette song for the last couple of days. This morning when I woke up to the sound of my uncle’s cell phone going off, my first thought was, “what the fuck, not again.” My second thought was, “something doesn’t feel right; it feels later.” My third thought, after turning and looking at the time on my alarm clock, was vocalized: “Fuck!”

It was nine — the time I was supposed to be in work for. For some crazy reason, my OCD went on vacation last night and allowed me to set my alarm wrong! I frantically called my boss, threw on some clothes, stopped at Dunkin Donuts and the whole time I was doing this I was hoping maybe I was dreaming the whole thing. Luckily, my boss was very understanding about it. He asked me, “why do you think I get up at five every morning? That way, even if I oversleep I’m not late!”

Needless to say, I think I’m going to be checking my alarm a hundred thousand times, instead of the usual fifty thousand. :D

Anyway, here are those pictures I promised:

Love on my wrist

Me and my Love

And here are a few bonus ones:

Hiding my face
Don’t look at me! I’m drunk!

Mike and Eugene
Mike, with his classic “fuck you,” and Eugene

Sean, doing a handstand
I can’t believe he did that drunk and didn’t fall

Sandy and me
Sandy got sentimental and insisted on us taking a picture together

Sandy and me, again
She made me take ANOTHER drunken picture with her. She must hate me.

This was a couple of weeks ago, after the wake. We decided to try and have some fun, because we thought Liane would want us to go out and do just that.


I thought I’d harass you all just one more time:

Jenna, founder of Rising Above, recently announced her latest book project. She is collecting letters from survivors of abuse, to themselves or their abusers. If you have a MySpace account, you can view the event posting here, or you can email Jenna for more information.

If you know anyone who might be interested, please pass this on!

So far, so good, oh well

Right now I’ve got about two and a half hours of downtime until my next class. My Painting I class let out early, at about 12. So far I’ve eaten a bagel and smoked a cigarette. Woo. My phone is dead now, too, so I can’t even call anyone to chat. I think I might go down to my car and get my notebook so I can write.

I got wake and mass info for Liane last night. If anyone needs it, you know how to get in touch with me. I’m going with Sandy and Sean S. for about 5.

My first Painting I class was okay. She just went over the syllabus and kind of told us how the class is going to go. So far, it sounds like it’s going to be fun. At least, I won’t have to study or take any exams. Besides, I get to paint! The only problem is, between Painting I and Crafts, I have to buy a lot of supplies. Luckily I already have most of the colors for Painting I as well as some other stuff, so I only need to buy a couple of other colors, get a portfolio and get a smock. I also need new brushes; my old ones fall apart as I paint, so they’re kind of crappy in the first place.

Anyway, I’m in the library and I’m terrified that I’m going to get kicked out, since I’m not doing anything for school and all of the computers are taken. Heh. I’m going to try and read some blogs while I can and maybe update my Twitter before I go get my notebook and start my Tent City series. Which reminds me, I lost the piece of paper I wrote notes on for all of that….

How do you put a title on this?

Why, oh why did I think it would be a good idea to stay late today? I normally work from 9 in the morning until 1 in the afternoon, but since our offices were closed on Monday I agreed to put in extra hours today and Friday. Normally, I wouldn’t really care but a) Indianapolis is not gonna pay for itself and b) I need to catch up on work. Here I am.

It wouldn’t be so bad if what I was working on, well, worked. My task is to create image rollover effects using just CSS and XHTML, rather than clunky old JavaScript. In theory, this is easy. I tried doing it from scratch and it wasn’t working entirely right. I believe that Google was made for a reason, and I proved myself right again by finding something relatively simple that I could build upon. Well, all is working fine and dandy.. except now the images are displaying vertically, instead of horizontally. In my mind all I can think of is, I have all. day. to work on this and get it right. Oh, shoot me. I basically picked the worst day to stay late. Sigh.

Anyway, Everett contacted me and told me that the wake for Liane will be at Woodtick Memorial. He’s not sure of the when yet, but he said he’ll keep me posted. I’m going to try like hell to go. I still feel sort of guilty for not going to Devon’s wake or funeral, and I’d hate to miss Liane’s. Personally, I hate funerals and wakes. The last funeral I went to was for my Grandpa Wish. It was more of a memorial, because he’d been cremated, but it was also a military funeral and it was really hard to get through. Before that I went to Chef B’s wake. That sucked, too. It was open-casket, but he just looked so.. different. All of the light and personality was just gone. So it’s kind of a double-edged sword for me; I love the few memories I do have of Liane, and I’m not sure if I want my last of her to be in a casket, but at the same time I wish I’d gone to Devon’s wake/funeral, so I could have had that goodbye.

One thing I do know is, my friends need me. I have friends who were much closer to her than I was, and I know they are all taking it hard. I really would like to be there for them, even if it’s sucky for me. Another sucky part of it is, I haven’t seen some of these friends in a while. I feel kind of guilty for letting it go this long, only to be reunited because of a mutual friend’s funeral. It makes me feel like a bad friend. I felt the same way at Grandpa Wish’s memorial service. I hadn’t seen Grandma Wish or him in a few years, even though they were like grandparents to me growing up. I haven’t seen Everett since New Year’s Eve a couple years ago, and I haven’t seen Leena since Sandy and Bearrin broke up. I don’t know if Sean S. is going, but I haven’t seen him since I worked at Toys R Us. Mike saw him a few days ago.

Sigh. Well, I’m going to take a smoke break now. 3:00 is forever away.