There’s something you should know about me. I love prison documentaries and homicide/crime programs, especially on a lazy Saturday night.

I find them riveting. I’ll sit down to watch just one, and before you know it, I’ve spent eight hours learning about the New Mexico Penitentiary and the riots that went on there in 1980 (Thanks, MSNBC)

On one particular Saturday afternoon, I found myself watching a documentary on the L.A. County Coroner and how they deal with homicides. Of course, I couldn’t change the channel because a) It was about Los Angeles and b) I find the inner workings of government agencies that deal with criminals and death just fascinating.

This documentary was mostly about how the Coroner deals with deaths from gang violence, accidents, etc. and wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary, but something struck my interest enough to wander onto their website – which comes complete with a creepy gift shop named “Skeletons in the Closet,” mind you.

After a few minutes, I felt like I had struck gold:

The L.A. County Coroner has a database dating back to the 60s of bodies that have remained unclaimed, meaning no next of kin has come forward to claim and bury the body.

The wheels in my head started spinning with a million questions. But who are these people? How did they die? Why hasn’t anyone come forward? For days I thought about this list I had “discovered.”

The thoughts wouldn’t go away. I wanted to know more. I thought about how I could frame this into a story and who I could pitch it to.

Somehow at the same time, Spot.us, a new innovative journalism model was on my radar. I had been thinking about submitting a proposal to the site, which uses crowd-funding to support stories, for quite a while. Luckily for me, my thoughts about the coroner and Spot.us collided at the same time.

I immediately got to work researching, interviewing an L.A. County Coroner official, digging up facts, details and eating it all up all along the way.

The result?

A story proposal on the site which you can see here ( as well as on the sidebar of this site). Telling you that I’m excited about being a part of this is the biggest understatement of the year. This story makes me feel like my journalism dreams are finally coming true. For the first time in a long time, I feel so happy that I’m actually somewhat proud of myself, and that’s hard to come by for a writer, believe me.

If you’re reading this, and you also share a morbid fascination with me about where this vast city’s dead end up when no one comes forward to claim them (sometimes due to not being able to afford it), and how certain groups are helping fill the gaps where the city cannot, please consider donating to see this story come to life. Or at least pass it on if you can!

I promise to get you a “Body Outline Polo” on my way out of the Coroner’s office.

The following are excerpts and photos from my travel journal about time spent in Dublin, January 2010.

Dublin – 10 a.m.

We just arrived and I am already loving it. It’s green everywhere and all the buildings are brick red. The weather is nippy, but absolutely perfect. It is the most quaint town I think I’ve ever been in.

We’re sitting in Butler’s Chocolate cafe, the Irish equivalent of See’s Candies. The town is just waking up, going to school, to work, to start life.

As for me, I feel like I’m cheating life at the moment because my only worry is checking into our hotel in a few hours.

London was freezing compared to Dublin. This seems like a perfect blend of a metropolitan city and a small community.

I love hearing Irish people talk and I also love how all the street signs are also written in Gaelic.

This is  a writer friendly town, with homages to James Joyce and Oscar Wilde and more.  Somewhere were writing is not only respected but praised and admired.  As far as I can tell, Dublin is a  great city to foster creativity.

Ah yes, they also read newspapers. I already love it.

12 p.m. Dublin Writer’s Museum

1 p.m. Francis Bacon exhibition – Dublin City Gallery

I like old women who come to museums in the middle of the afternoon in a large group. The Francis Bacon exhibition moved me. He was an amazing talent and I feel lucky to have seen it in such an amazing city.

In the gallery café, I had creme of mushroom soup and the famous Irish soda bread. A woman dropped a five euro on the ground and I had K tap her shoulder and let her know.

She was grateful.

8 p.m. Man Utd vs Manchester City game at the International Bar. A big cauldron of soup sits in a corner, and people are slowly piling in this comfortable, yet dark space. I order a Guiness, my first ever.

I hate beer, but in the spirit of Dublin, I decide to try it. It was smooth and light and glided down my throat like water. Drink. Watch. Cheer.

I felt so happy. Do you know how that feels, to be truly happy? I felt it.

Gráím thú, Dublin.