RIP my babies!
My livelihood was stolen from me on Monday, 19th of September 2011. Right after school, we drove to Lange Park to get a bite to eat at Shakers Bar. We got their about 7:10PM and left at about 8:00PM. During that interim, someone broke into our car via the back glass and stole my my laptop, my school bag, and my make-up bag. Gone.
On returning to the car, I got into the passenger seat like normal and Dale walked over to his side and in a confused tone said "But, I didn't leave the window open.." The sharp realization stabbed him quickly as he exclaimed "They broke into the car!" Shocked, I turned around quickly saying "What did they take?" as my eyes fell on the empty space in the back seat. "Your laptop and school bag." I was in a state of disbelief. I couldn't cry and I couldn't react. It was that feeling of wishing you had made different decisions or wishing your could turn back time that hung in the air. Utter disbelief. Disbelief soon turned to devastation. It was only on our way to the police station (yes, we had to go to them) that I turned to Dale and said "But my make-up bag was in the trunk right?" and again that slow realization dawned on him as he said "No, they got that too."
Now, can you really picture a thief or the type of person that would do something like this, going home and reading the expensive Linguistics textbook I had just happened to have borrowed from a friend that day or making any use of my coveted make-up brushes? They grabbed the bags thinking there was money or items of worth in there, but those bags were only valuable to me. As I stared at the ratty notebook of the girl next to me in class the next day, anger overtook me. I take pride in my school work, my notes, my textbooks. The weekend prior to the theft, I had spent my time getting my notes in order, printing extra information I found online, as well as the worksheets and readings from my lecturers. And here is this girl, not giving a shit about her work, barely taking notes and my organized information filled notebooks are gone. The weekend prior to that one, I spent my time converting all my pigments and foundations into 3 gram jars for ease of use and storage. Those are now all gone as well.
Honestly, I could live with my laptop being stolen; my portfolio pictures, my essays, pictures of my first and only nephew, my memories. I equate it to a laptop crashing and wishing you would have backed up your files like you were supposed to. It wasn't even password protected. I feel exposed. My school books could be bought back and my notes could be acquired again, but hoss when I realized my make-up bag was gone.. I was in a mess. It took me years to get those brushes. They've been purchased at various places at various times. And they weren't cheap! I've contacted the companies to which my stuff has been stolen to see if they can assist in anyway. No shame in asking, right? I can either get a no or be ignored.
I don't know where to start to pick up the pieces. It's going to cost me a lot of money to get back what was lost. Money that I don't have and money that I can't work for either. My tools are gone; I can't work without my brushes. Luckily, there are a few kind people out there in this world who have offered their assistance and to them I am eternally grateful. I received many kind words from people I barely know and honestly, got more understanding from strangers than I did from my own friends. So thank you to everyone who has reached out, I really do appreciate it.
Right now, I'm stuck somewhere between stage 4 and 5 of the 5 stages of grief. Depression and acceptance. I'm trying to count my blessings and not my problems, because the situation could have been a lot worse. The whole car could have been stolen. A life could have been lost. I'm grateful for what I have, but still feeling the devastation of what has been taken from me. There are a lot of emotional highs and lows (like there isn't enough of that on a daily basis). The recent theft and rape in Central was also a wake-up call. As the Constable in Chaguanas Police Station was explaining to Dale what the next steps would be for us, my eyes fell on the theft/rape write up. The words "continuously raped" starred back at me as I instantly felt like a fool. Here I am, crying about my brushes and this poor family is suffering from something that can never be given back. Even if they catch the perps, which I hope to God they do, it's not going to take away the trauma or the memories. My material items can be replaced. It may take me awhile, but that's nothing compared to what those two women are going through.
So folks, please be careful when you go out and take the necessary precautions, even if they seem silly. And sometimes even that isn't enough, because some of us aren't even safe in our own homes. But still, pray for our country, pray for yourselves, and your neighbors.. even your enemies. Believe in the power of prayer, it's magical.
On a another note, some of the things taken from me were very distinctive and I'd appreciate it if you saw anything that you would contact me. I still have hope!
-My laptop is a black Gateway Laptop, but I swear I don't think there's another one like it in Trinidad. It has a wood grain pattern that I've never seen anywhere else.
-I had Sigma brushes, Sonia Kashuk brushes, Sephora brushes, Bare Escentual brushes, and Posh brushes, so if you see anyone selling these anywhere, please let me know.
-My 2 bag's were both from H&M from a couple of years ago, so again, I doubt there are many of these in Trinidad. One is a huge black purse, with a purple interior and the other was an even bigger shiny black snakeskin bag with a burgundy interior.
-And as tiny as this detail is, I had a compact mirror that was very near and dear to me as it reminds me of my mum. It golden, with a cherub (which is basically a baby angel) on it and a red gem button that's pressed to open it up. I'm SURE no one else in Trinidad has anything like that, because I've had it for many, many years.
Thanks for your assistance and kind words. Please be safe my Glories!