Greta Hayley Says ~ I Am a Cat Magnet

Hi, all! Greta Hayley here. I just wanted to tell you all that I have a super power. Well, I have several, but I have one other than being so cute that everyone wants to hug me all the time. Can you guess what it is?

I am also a cat magnet! See...

This is my brother, Scamper. He does this to me all the time, and I am always there first. I put up with it because he's my kitty brother, but sometimes he's a little pesty. Just don't tell him I said that. I don't want to hurt his cute little feelings.

The Glittery Cupcakes Biker Gang

Before I get into the story of the moment, I would like to touch on another, more important subject. That subject is how awesome Zoe is. Really, if you haven't checked out her blog, do it now. Right now. Don't wait. You can come back and read my post. It's not going anywhere. And not only is she an amazing writer and human being, she also is amazingly talented and was sweet and kind enough to make this for me. (I would post it link-less and straight to the sight, but Blogger isn't so kind to animated files.) Please, everyone, make sure you appreciate how amazing this girl is. Do not take her for granted. Thank you.

Today’s blog is going to be about two very important things; cars and graduation parties. Neither go together, unless you get a car for your graduation, which wasn’t at all the case here, but I’m going to make them work. Like Catherine Willows always says, “I’m making it work.” I live by that. If it’s good enough for Catherine Willows, it’s good enough for Cassadee Willows.

As promised, I am updating you on Aunt Bev’s car situation. I know it’s taken me awhile, but I assure you it wasn’t because I was being lazy. Oh no, this whole thing is turning into at least three sagas and a “back-in-my-day” story. Mostly because every time we go to the car lot, Aunt Bev can’t get over the sticker shock on a car and keeps telling me that fifteen years ago, which was when she bought her last car, they were much cheaper. Since it’s been fifteen years, sticker shock is understandable.

Since the last time I had written about the adventures of Aunt Bev and car shopping, we had gone back to the same dealership twice. I know I didn’t write about the last time we had gone, and I apologize, but there isn’t really a lot to tell. Basically, all you need to know is that Aunt Bev has a car in mind that she wants, but the dealership is playing shady-shady and telling her she can get the car she wants, but then conveniently are not able to find any that car, therefore, they try to up-sell her another one. Let me explain in full.

Aunt Bev found a car she likes, but the interior is ugly. I don’t mean a little ugly, I mean holy effing shoot is it ugly. Who in the heck would make something this ugly and think it was okay? How is this much ugly legal? The car is somewhat expensive, so if she’s going to pay that much for the car, she obviously doesn’t want an ugly interior. The dealership assured her that the car she wanted came in either six or eight, I can’t remember, different interior colors. It would be no problem getting her another interior. Then, suddenly, this was a huge problem.

So, to offset that, they took her out and started showing her cars on the lot that they had in the color she liked. That was fine, only these cars were a few thousand more because they had a ton of features she didn’t want or need. This just confused her more, and before we knew it the manager was by our side telling us he was going to get the keys so she could take that car out to lunch and she and I could discuss her buying it. She turned him down.

They also played the game where they told us they’d be getting more cars in, so when they did, they’d call her and let her know if they got one in in the color she liked, since they didn’t know what they were getting in. She asked when they would be getting the cars in and they told her they were unsure. A little while later they casually mentioned the cars would be in either the following day, or the day after that. Just a short while after that, when she refused to take the car to lunch, they told her the new cars would be in later that day. She told them to call her when they came in. They said they would. It was several weeks later when they did, and surprise, no cars in the color she wanted. We were shocked. And by shocked, I mean we were only shocked he actually called.

My mom and I can tell Aunt Bev is not excited about the car. The only reason she wants it is because of the warranty. The dealership itself is offering a lifetime warranty on the car, which seems great, but the thing is, if they go out of business, there goes the warranty. Also, if they don’t fix something to her liking, she can’t take the car anywhere else and actually get it fixed because that voids the warranty. As shady as they are being about selling her a car, I don’t think I’d be very trustworthy in them fixing it. After everything I’ve seen from them, I really don’t want to buy from them.

Aunt Bev and I went down the road and looked at Hondas. I just want you all to know that if I have to buy a new car, I know what I want and I am prepared. I feel badly, though, that Aunt Bev needs a car and will probably end up with one she’s not excited about because she can’t get over the warranty. Plus, my mom and I both agree, especially after looking at other cars, that the car is overpriced by a good eight thousand dollars, but Aunt Bev just sees the warranty. We love her and want her to have the right car.

Another thing that is throwing Aunt Bev for a curve ball is that they gave her one price at first, and then she ended up with a totally different, much higher price the next time she came back. The car wasn’t even equal. The first car she priced had a navigation system and everything. The next one was a step down from that and cost more. They tried to tell her that it was some deal they had going on the cars with the navigation systems, and when she asked them about the deal, saying that would be the car she wanted, they said they couldn’t get any more in. The whole thing = shady.

As we were sitting there the last time, my mom happened to bring up that there were no safety ratings for the car Aunt Bev wanted in the magazine that publishes safety ratings. I’m sorry, but I have no idea what that magazine is called. I had also looked online for the safety ratings, since I had noticed that the spot where the safety ratings should be was blank on that car. This was brought up to the salesman, and he swore up and down again that the car had the top safety ratings out of any car in its class. To that I told him that I didn’t want to be a Glum Glenda, but I was going to ask him to prove it. He could not prove it. He could not give us anything showing us safety ratings, which, again, shady.

Another thing about this salesman was that he was also the one who kept trying to call Aunt Bev over and over again, and when he couldn’t get her, he called my mom. Now, suddenly, after the last time he was there, he hesitated calling her, and then when he did, was rude to her. This is weird and completely uncalled for.

Aunt Bev is now so confused that she’s considering trying to get the bottom of her car welded since she doesn’t like any of the new ones. The whole bottom has a huge hole in it, and I’m not sure how she’s going to do it, but I’m sure it’s maybe possible. I think it’s sad that she’s so upset with these car salesmen that she’s considering putting all this money into trying to weld her car together when it’s fifteen years old.

I’m sure before she makes her decision that we will be back at the dealership at least three more times, which is fine by me, because they have the best coffee ever. I feel like now I’m just going for the coffee, because every time we go they pull something new on us. In reality, I go to be Aunt Bev’s second set of eyes and ears. Every time, she leaves frustrated.

Last time, however, I think we finally managed to frustrate the salesman who was recently frustrating her. This salesman was an ex-marine, and when I say he was anal, I don’t think that covers it. Now, I have absolutely nothing against ex-marines or marines in general. In fact, I am so very grateful for them and the fact that they give their lives for our country and for our safety. I have a friend that always told me he loved marines until he met them. I’m sure this isn’t the case with most marines, but this guy is the first ex-marine I’ve met that made me understand why he always said that. For goodness sakes, this guy stapled his cough drops shut, then would open the bag by removing said staple with his hands, take one out, and re-staple it. It had a zipper top. Ah, extra work. But I respect it.

Somehow, while we were sitting there, we started to notice that he was getting slightly annoyed that we didn’t just want to take one of the more expensive cars that she didn’t want on the lot. If there’s one thing Aunt Bev is, it’s not a pushover. She knows what she wants, and she’s not afraid to sit there and make him search for twenty different cars until she gets what she likes. Because of this, at one point it came up that it probably seemed like we weren’t actually there to buy a car, just to annoy him.

This was the time when I decided to reveal that we were secret shoppers, and really we were just there to keep coming back and test his temper. He laughed and walked away. Unfortunately for him, we could tell he was annoyed and all agreed we had met our daily quota for annoying people that day. We were a little delighted considering how stressful this whole process had turned out to be.

I don’t think it helped that not long after that, my mom left, leaving Aunt Bev and me to our own devices. It was then that I decided to bring something up with him that I had always wondered, not because I could, but because he was the perfect person to ask this question to. Let me explain.

Have you ever watched a television show and noticed that, in certain shows, everyone drives the same car and they are sure to show you what the brand of car everyone is driving is? And, have you ever noticed how, in every episode, all the cars seem to be different models and colors of the same brand of car, except for the main characters' cars? Have you also ever wondered how all of that works? Since the maker of the cars is obviously sponsoring the show, I would assume they would give the cars to the show for free, however, how is that cost offset? As many cars that are used in television shows, that has to be offset somehow.

I always have wondered all of this things. People, I have too much time on my hands, but don't I ever know it. In this particular case, the night before we had gone car shopping I had coincidentally happened upon a question on the blog that is kept by the creator of the show Leverage, having to do with exactly that. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the show, but because of the premise, they use a lot of cars in that show, and they’re almost always different ones but all made by Hyundai. Also, in more episodes than not, one or more cars end up wrecked or blown up, meaning obviously the maker of the car would not be getting that car back. On the blog, it was revealed that Hyundai was “good friends” of the show and provided them with all the cars free of charge. We were shopping for a car at Hyundai. I could not pass up this opportunity.

I slithered my way slowly over to the car salesman while Aunt Bev was checking out another car, and I told him there was something I always wanted to know. He was willing to play ball, so I asked him that, when a certain make of a car is used in a show, and the maker of the car provides these cars free of charge to the show, only to have them wrecked or blown up on a consistent basis, how the maker would recuperate the cost on that. He looked at me weird for a moment, so I asked him if he thought they would do so by charging a little more to the buyer to offset the cost of the wrecked cars. He shrugged and said he supposed they would.

That’s when I really hit him with the one two punch, and told him all about the show Leverage, and how Hyundai was consistently giving them cars that got blown up. Then, I nicely asked him if that’s why the model my Aunt was looking at was priced around eight thousand higher than comparable cars by other auto makers. He got kind of mad and walked away. I felt I had my answer, and that I had done my job of irking a fellow irker for the day.

To be honest, I hadn’t meant anything by it, but I was curious. Because I may also need a car, my mom and I have been researching cars, and we can’t figure out what the model she’s looking at has that would price it so far above other cars who actually have their safety ratings out and published for all to see. There were several cars that we had habitually tested better in previous years to Hyundais, and were still much lower priced than the car she was looking at.

I thought I was asking an honest, valid question. Now that I'm telling you this story, I see how he would have thought I was being a facetious jerk. At the time I didn’t realize it, so I do apologize to the guy, but honestly, it was a real question. Sorry it pissed you off, but maybe that should tell us something? Just wondering / saying.

Because I don’t want to spend this blog acting like a facetious jerk, I thought I would switch it on over to something more fun, like graduation parties for someone you don’t even know. Oh yes, I went there. And I’m sure at least one of my readers has gone there this year, too, because you know how it is. Someone’s your neighbor, their kid, who hides in the house and you’ve never, ever talked to, is graduating, they invite you. You see free food, and BAM! 
You're there.

But in all seriousness, that was the situation, however, we didn’t go for the free food. The neighbor that invited us is a God send. This winter, when my grandma was sick, and then passed away, he was kind enough to dig out our driveway for us so we didn’t have to worry about it. This was so appreciated, because we were already stretched so thin, and this all happened when we had around eighteen inches of snow consistently for a few weeks. We felt we needed to go, and also we got him something to thank him for being so incredible.

After arriving and meeting his son for the first time since he was eight and came trick or treating at our house, but never said so much as a hi, our neighbor told his son that we were just saying how we had never, ever talked to him, even though we lived across the street from him for all these years. How did he respond? He shrugged and walked away. By the end of the night, we had heard him talk but still hadn’t talked to him. How does that much fail / win happen at the same time?

Please understand that I was sick as a dog over that weekend, but I chose to go to the party anyway. I was past being contagious, and really just had a crappy cold, so, to be on the safe side, I packed hand sanitizer and made it my best friend. I really didn’t sneeze or anything while I was there, just felt crappy and wasn’t much fun. I was actually begrudging when it came to going, and only went because it was across the street and my mom didn’t want to go alone. I learned one thing by going, though. Our neighbors are exponentially more fun than I gave them credit for.

Let me just start by explaining that the mom of the graduation boy is an odd, odd lady. At one time she really liked us, and then all of a sudden she didn’t talk to us. We didn’t know if it was just because we didn’t see her a lot, or if she didn’t like us, but we just kind of moved on, because her husband, God send neighbor, liked us.

As soon as we got to the party, she was really happy to see us and invited us on over. She ended up being really nice and really fun, much more nice and fun than we could remember her being twelve years ago, which is pretty much the last time she talked to us. At one point in the night we were sitting there when she ever so quietly snuck up behind the teenagers, who were all seated at another table, sprayed them all with silly string, and then ran. It was awesome.

At one point in the night she even brought the ponies over to visit. These ponies were not regular ponies, but miniature ponies. Having been around horses all of my life, I have to say that I love me some miniature ponies. They have cute little attitudes. To make this set of miniatures more fun, the baby was taller than the mommy pony, which gave the mommy pony even more an attitude, which I loved and respected her for.

During the night, I found myself stuck in between two groups of people. I was being conversed to by the older people, which were mostly the neighbors on all sides of us that were also invited to the party. Then, the teenagers also talked to me. I was that odd middle age that kind of grooved with everyone. I liked it, however, the one other kid who was there and also in the middle age category, did not. He sat at the adult table and never said a word. When I asked one of our neighbors about him, thinking maybe I could go cheer up said kid, providing he was like that because he was just quiet and wasn’t having the worst day ever, the response I got was, “Oh, that’s Dale. He’s always like that.” I didn’t think cheering him up would work.

While at the adults' table, the subject of God send neighbor came up. Everyone in the neighborhood started talking about how well he keeps his grass up. They have a fifty plus acre farm, and this man is also does cardiac catheterizations at the local hospital, but rain, shine, night or day, literally, this man is out there getting his lawn mowed. It is never out of place no matter when or in what weather conditions he has to work. Instead of deciding he was the best neighbor ever, which he is, the consensus ended up being that he was an overachiever that made the neighborhood look bad. This is also true, although it was meant completely lightheartedly and everyone agreed they wished they had half the energy he did. This was all discussed while we sat just feet from him in his own yard. Yep, I like my neighbors so much more now.

I then made my rounds to the young crowd, where I got myself tattooed up. Oh, don’t get all excited, they were fake tattoos. The mother of the graduate is the coolest mom ever when it came to planning parties. She had silly string, bubbles, and fake tattoos. By the time I was done hanging out with them, I was tattooed up like a biker babe. Here, let me show you. And I apologize ahead of time for the bad resolution on the pictures. They were sparkly and I took the pictures with my Blackberry. Sorry I failed you all.







I could totally pass as a bad as biker chick, right? What do you mean, no? Glitter bugs and cupcakes aren’t enough to make me a biker chick? Say what? Well, fine! I’ll make my own biker gang and call them the Glittery Cupcakes. That should earn me some serious street cred with Hells Angels. They do their annual ride right through the town down the road, so I’ll just bring this up with them...

Okay, maybe I won’t.

The party was a lovely party, on a lovely, cool day, with the sun shining and everyone enjoying themselves. Then, Pennsylvania weather decided to rear its ugly head. I don’t know how much you all know about Pennsylvania weather, but unless you live here, I would imagine nothing. We get crazy ass weather. It can be sunny and eighty degrees one minute, and in the matter of two or three minutes, the temperature can drop into the sixties, it can become pitched black out and start to storm. This is not at all unusual for our weather. Neither are sixty degree days in January, or snow into May. But I digress.

The news forecasters were split fifty fifty on if it was going to storm or not. Only half of them were right, and they were all right the next day when they looked back on it. In the matter of less than a minute, things got dark and the winds got so heavy that things were flying everywhere. The wind had been completely still all day, now, all of a sudden, people are fighting to hold the one large tent down as it started to come undone from the stakes in the ground. That’s how strong the wind was.

It didn’t take long for mass panic to ensue. The mother of the graduate started yelling for everyone to grab stuff and move it to the garage. People were grabbing things from every direction; food, chairs, some were holding down tents, others were going for the plates and other accessories. Some were eating casually. Wait, what?

There he was, our lovely neighbor, Joe. Joe is awesome and hilarious. As everyone is running all over the place, there is Joe, paper plate in hand, standing in the middle of the yard, slowly eating his chicken with a fork just as if he were sitting in front of his television set, calm as could be. Astounded, yet intrigued by this, I stopped for a moment and asked him what he was doing. He told me, very calmly, that the weather would pass. In his ripe age between sixty and seventy, he seemed very calm and all knowing in this. This was easily one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Mass panic, people about, and him, right in the middle of the open yard, eating. Picture it. I promise you won’t be disappointed.

The weather did not pass. I later found out that my mom, just moments before me, had stopped and asked him the same thing with the same answer. Too funny.

When the weather turned, we decided to walk home since I really didn’t need to get rained on, on top of being sick. I realize it’s not the rain that makes you sick, but it surely couldn’t help. We just made it in the door when it poured down rain. It did this for the rest of the night. Sorry, Joe, but even in your wisest of days, you are still no better at predicting the weather than our very own weather forecasters.

And let me just add, our forecasters only know the weather the day after it happened. Their track record for knowing the weather is basically non existent. Flies; they can tell the weather better by biting you to announce the rain. Ah, Pennsylvania. There is never anything but a dull day here, except when it comes to weather.

If It Looks Like A Duck and Quacks Like a Duck, It's Probably Just A Four Year Old At Wal-Mart

Hello girls and boys! I’m sorry I’ve been MIA for a little while, but it’s been a crazy busy past couple of weeks. My life is funny like that. I’ll go through these weeks, sometimes months, where I have absolutely nothing to do except stare at four walls and try to make up weird things to amuse myself with. Then, all of a sudden, I’ll get weeks where I have to schedule time to breathe. I don’t know why this happens, but it does and I’m sure it thinks it’s funny. I concur.

Because of this, I don’t always get around to doing my blog. Since emails and other online correspondence take me between an hour to three hours a day depending on what all I have to do, a lot of times it comes down to me either having time to write, or having time to do my blog. As much as I love you all, I have to keep trucking on my novel. No, I am not saying I love it more than all of you. Please don’t hurt me.

I’ve had a weird past week that I don’t quite know how to explain. I had intended on going into this much deeper, as I had mentioned a little bit about this in the second part of the Good Girls Go Bad saga, and I will, but for the most part I am going to let sleeping dogs lie.

To put this simply, I was innocently shopping when I found something that reminded me of my grandmother. It was a message about losing a loved one and a lot of things really hit me. When my grandmother passed, we found out a lot of surprising things about her that we never knew. Ultimately, my grandmother was not the person I thought she was, or that any of us thought she was, for that matter. She practically raised me, along with my grandfather, and now they were both gone and leaving me to wonder who grandma really was. The message I saw was a little too exact, and it seemed to be speaking straight to me. It made me realize that, no matter who my grandma really was, all that matters is who she was to me.

After this happened, I got home and posted a status on my Facebook that was generalized, but basically about the whole situation having to do with my grandma. The first person to respond to this was Friend. I thought this odd considering the status, being as it was generalized, could also refer to him, and I wondered why, after almost two months of us not talking, he would suddenly respond to that. I thought it too striking to be a coincidence, but now I don’t know what to think. And so it is...

I also wanted to address something that has been brought up to me regarding Friend. I know there’s been several times that I mentioned I was a hot mess when he met me. I feel as if I need to express how much of a hot mess for you guys to really understand what this poor man has gone through with me, as it’s been brought about how much of a hot mess I could have really been. I started a blog just a few mere months before I met friend and I never took it down. I will direct you there and give you a new appreciation for friend, because yes, I was really messed up. To be honest, looking back, I should have seen a psychologist, but I couldn’t even talk to my mom, and still can’t most of the time, to bridge the subject, so I didn’t. Turns out, I didn’t need one. I just needed friend, who, at the time, was a psychology student. Funny how that works out.

But on to bigger, better and funnier things. This is going to be an extremely pretentious announcement considering this is probably coming many months in advance, but I will be starting a new blog. Some of you know that I am a bit of a vintage clothes restorer aficionado. I am in love with vintage clothes and the look of them in general, and I am in love with sewing. Lucky for me, Aunt Bev happened to have a slew and a half of vintage clothes that fit me that I was welcome to. This is one of the many of millions of reasons why I love Aunt Bev.

Anyway, some of the clothes were vastly out of style with their sleeves and length, and were not the cute kind of vintage at all. However, the patterns and the garment itself were vintage, and I saw complete hope for reworking the garment so that it kept with feel of the pattern and the era, but also update it so I could wear it everywhere and not look like an old schoolmarm, as Aunt Bev would say. Sometimes all it takes it removing the shoulder pads from the sleeves, and others all it takes it removing the puffy, I’m on a pirate ship, sleeves. It’s quite easy, actually.

There are some pieces that are fine on their own, several actually, and only needed the buttons and what not changed out. But some of the pieces were those matronly pieces, as some were her mother’s, and they actually laughed when I put them on and wondered how I was ever going to do something with them to allow me to wear them in public. Since I’ve had a few people who are also in love with vintage clothing and want to know how to change them up and make them fit today’s style without stealing their integrity, ask to see the pieces I’ve done or how I’ve done them, I decided to do a blog all about this particular subject.

In this blog, I will take some before and after pictures of garments that seem as though they are past help. I will also include the pieces that I’ve done nothing to and show how to make them work with an accessory or two. Accessories can make all the difference. I am also vastly in love with Jennifer Love Hewitt’s character’s style on Ghost Whisperer. She wears all vintage pieces and changes them up with accessories, so even the silliest things suddenly don’t look so silly after they are dressed up with the right accentuating pieces and accessories.

I am far from a fashionista, but I think this blog could be something fun for me. It will be awhile until I get it up, because I’ve got a ton of other pieces that I’m currently working on altering, and it is also time consuming to get some great pictures to put up on the blog. As soon as I am ready for the new blog, I will let you all know. I will not be taking this blog down, but simply starting another one dedicated simply to vintage clothing.

For now, though, I will just stick to telling you some funny stories that have happened recently. I realized today that I have blurbs of stories everywhere. By everywhere I mean in my phone, on my computer, and on flash drives and CDs to my computer. Apparently, for quite awhile now, I’ve just typed out weird things that happened to me that I wanted to blog about, and then never got a chance to do so. I think I have enough material to last me the next eighty years. Damn, I’d be old in eighty years.

First come the story about my creeper cat, Sophie. Sophie is a cute little calico that looks completely innocent, but beware, as she is not. Many are the times I will be minding my own business, look down, and she will be there staring at me. She never blinks. Sometimes I’ll be doing something and simply turn to find her right next to me staring, and I never heard her coming. Other times, I will wake up to find her right next to my face just staring at me. She’s plotting something. I just don’t know what. That’s the scary part.

My friend and I were discussing this the other day and she and I decided that we could write a novel called “Where Sophie Goes, Murder Follows.” Maybe we’re jumping to conclusions, but if you could see the look in her eyes, you would know it’s clearly one of murder. Yes, because cats totally murder people.

This book would obviously be so popular that it would be turned into a movie. No one would really want to star in a movie where a cat killed them except for Lady Gaga, because she’s odd. So she would be our only star, but that would never work. The studio would want to pull the movie. Therefore, we’d find ourselves having to give out non homicidal kittens to convince others to do the movie by showing them that most kittens are not homicidal. It’s just Sophie. And we’d also promise that Sophie would never come anywhere near the actors. We’d simply use an uncanny double.

We also decided we need a cute lead. At first I thought we couldn’t get any big name actors, but then my friend pointed out all the really, really stupid movies that had big name actors, and we figured that between giving out free kittens, and the movie already starring Lady Gaga, we probably could get one to agree to do it. We also figured that if a movie about sparkly vampires, humans and werewolves could top the box office charts, a movie about a killer cat would probably also do well in retrospect. Naturally, we decided we’d have to get a Twilight actor to be in the movie since they’d be most likely to do it. We have too much time on our hands.

Keeping on the subject of animals, we all know how Greta Hayley is adorable, yet I always call her a little con artist. This is because she is one in too many ways to count, but let me just give you an example of one. Once everyone goes to bed, Greta will get a special cookie for being a good girl. I will get one out of the cupboard, and sometimes she will take it, but mostly she will reach out, lick it, and then decide she doesn’t want it. I know they’re dogs, but I hate to put the cookies back that she doesn’t want, so I set them on the floor hoping she'll eat it later. I give her another cookie, which she takes, and eats. Then, she comes back, snaps that other cookie off of the floor and takes off with it. I should have seen that one coming, but I never do. The little stinker totally cons me into giving her two cookies instead of one, and I fall for it every single time.

I recently had some doctor's appointments. The hospital where I go for them is in a large town, but the roads are a little narrow, and each street has a small town feel to it. While driving down the street to the hospital, we saw two people standing right in the middle of the sidewalk reading a piece of paper. This wasn’t unusual at all until you realized that the piece of paper was tiny and each was holding the piece of paper in one of their hands, bunched together, reading it. Apparently it wasn’t good enough for one person to hold said paper. Nope, both had to. They were so cute, even though I suppose they were lost, or just in general confused. I wonder how that ended.

Another thing about the hospital that I go to is that it is in a complex of four separate hospitals. They are all connected by a walkway, or an underground tunnel. They are different hospitals, all within the same health group, and all on a two block wide radius, two in a row per block, one behind the other. If it’s warm out, instead of taking the walkways, we will walk outside on the sidewalk to get from one hospital to another. Parking is so expensive, and there’s no use in moving the car to go from one hospital to another when they’re right on top of each other.

As we were walking up the hill, a young male nurse came flying out of one of the hospitals, and passed us at top speed. The hospitals also serve as nursing schools, and he was young, so we figured he was an intern. We also figured that he was on his way into the hospital below the one we were walking past. We turned to watch him, wondering what kind of emergency was going on to see him run that fast. Instead of going in the other hospital, he ran past all the hospitals, onto the main street and kept going. I guess he found out the nursing life wasn’t for him and didn’t know how to express this revelation other than to run far and fast. Poor kid.

We live in a fairly remote area with lots of trees, woods and overgrown grass. With this comes bugs, particularly spiders. As you all may know, spiders are my favorite. And by favorite, I mean I scream, run, jump on something and cringe while crying for someone else to kill them if one comes along. If that doesn't work, I got at them with the hose on the vacuum from as far away as humanely possible. However, I recently found myself faced with a spider that was colored like a poisonous spider would be, leaving me to assume it was poisonous. He or she, I didn’t check, was out on the back porch where our dogs pass through to get to the fenced in back yard. Not wanting to find out if he or she was poisonous or not, I knew I had to kill it there and then.

I picked up a trusty broom, the only weapon within reach, and whacked at it several times. When I lifted the broom, I saw that it had curled up into a ball. There was no blood, there were no guts. Dude or dudette obviously was in tuck and hide mode. He or she so wasn’t dead, just faking. So I stood there and waited, ready to pounce. Predictably, he or she thought after several minutes that he or she was safe, so he or she uncurled, but I was ready. Just as he or she uncurled him or her self, I struck again. BAM! This time there was blood and there were guts. Muahaha, take that spider! Now that I’ve had my moment of glory, a spider is going to scare the crap out of me, isn’t it?

With all these unusual, non correlating stories in the mix, I will leave you with just one more ultra confusing thing. Some kid quacked at me the other day at Wal-Mart. That is all.

Greta Hayley Says ~ I Got A Pretty, Pretty Haircut

Hello everyone! Greta Hayley here! Mommy has been super duper busy, so she promised that I could take over the blog for today. I want to tell you all about my new haircut.

Since I am a chow-chow mix and have two coats of hair, Mommy took me to get groomed on Thursday by my favorite groomer ever! I had all kinds of fun! I'm nice and cool for the summer and I look super cute. See!

Well, that's all from me for now. Mommy says she'll be back soon with all kinds of funny stories! Ta-ta for now!

And You Thought I Wasn't At All Weird

I am always looking for the weirdest thing I can find to put on here that is tell-tale about who I am. Although I normally steer clear from questionnaires, I think this one is just weird enough to cover all my criteria of things I look for to post on a blog. Because there’s a lot of questions, I’m going to try and do the very non-writer thing and answer them simply, without making an essay out of them.

Do you sleep with your closet doors open or closed?
Closed. I still have the notion there is something in my closet hiding. This is probably because on more than one occasion, there has been. Damn cats.

Do you take the shampoos and conditioner bottles from hotel?
No, I do not actually. My hair is a toughie, so there’s only one shampoo and conditioner that I found that makes it happy, so I stick with that.

Do you sleep with your sheets tucked in or out?
Out, otherwise I feel like I’m in a looney bin. I don’t like to be trapped in any sense, physically or hypothetically.

Have you ever stolen a street sign before?
No, and this bums me out a little, because who doesn’t want an awesome sign in their room? However, I’m just not the stealing type.

Do you like to use post-it notes?
The better question is, who doesn’t like to use post-notes? But seriously, they are my friends. They help keep my mild OCD in check.

Do you cut out coupons but then never use them?
It’s like this survey knows me. All the freaking time, survey, all the freaking time. I mean to, and I think I go through all of them when I’m shopping, but I don’t. I always miss a ton.

Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of a bees?
Ah, neither? Is that an option? I’m going to say bees, because I’m not allergic. The chances of me surviving that one are better than me surviving a bear attack.

Do you have freckles?
Yes, yes I do.

Do you always smile for pictures?
I try, but there’s few decent pictures out there of me smiling. I would rather smile in pictures, but somehow I always come off looking ridiculous when I do.

What is your biggest pet peeve?
When I clean and then my mom just leaves stuff lying around everywhere and refuses to help me clean, or pick it back up. Here in the Ruby Red Hearts household, we live in a crazy mixed up world where up is down and daughters are housewives with no husbands.

Do you ever count your steps when you walk?
If I have nothing else to think about and need to fill my brain with something, yes, yes I do.

Have you ever peed in the woods?
Uh...can I lie on this? Seriously, who hasn’t at one time? When you have to go, you have to go.

What about pooped in the woods?
No, that I have not done. I’d prefer to keep it that way.

Do you ever dance even if there's no music playing?
Everyday that ends in Y. I’ve never danced well, though.

Do you chew your pens and pencils?
Why yes, yes I do. Mostly pencils because I have a fear of the pens breaking in my mouth and me eating ink. Ink; it just doesn’t have the same appeal as paste.

How many people have you slept with this week?
Zero. Even if this isn’t meant to be sexual, it’s still zero. I sleep alone.

What size is your bed?
Queen, because Greta Hayley needs room too.

What is your Song of the week?
Fearless - Taylor Swift
For some reason, I keep singing it.

Is it okay for guys to wear pink?
As long as they think it’s okay to wear pink and aren’t doing it to either get attention, or to see what people say. If they like pink and they want to wear it with confidence, I say go for it.

Do you still watch cartoons?
No, of course not. Phineas and Ferb isn’t a cartoon...it’s a comedy without real actors. Oh, wait, that’s a cartoon, isn’t it?

Whats your least favorite movie?
I really am not a fan of Star Wars. I know, I know. Maybe I could be persuaded, but I’m still not a fan.

Where would you bury hidden treasure if you had some?
Dude, I’m not going to tell you that! And how do you know I don’t have any and it’s not hidden in the proverbial place where I would hide hidden treasure. I see what you’re trying to do here, and it’s not going to work.

What do you drink with dinner?
Depends on what I’m eating. Usually water, but if I have pizza it’s usually pop or iced tea.

What do you dip a chicken nugget in?
Ketchup.

What is your favorite food?
Teriyaki lemon chicken with seasoning salt and steak seasoning. Or chocolate. It’s a toss up.

What movies could you watch over and over and still love?
A Walk to Remember
500 Days of Summer
21
Any of the Jurassic Park sagas
Probably Twilight, too, but let's just pretend I didn't admit to that, okay?

Last person you kissed/kissed you?
Friend. This is getting really personal here, survey. Are you trying to make me cry?

Were you ever a boy/girl scout?
Yes, I was. A girl scout, I mean. If I were a boy scout, there would be issues and questions abound. I sold cookies and wore the outfit. I don’t regret a thing, except maybe that I don’t know a girl scout to buy any cookies off of anymore.

Would you ever strip or pose nude in a magazine?
My immediate response to this is no, but I guess if I was comfortable with my body (which I am) and it was tastefully done, I would consider it. I would not, however, do it for money. It would have to be a personal choice based on how confident I was and what I wanted to prove to myself.

When was the last time you wrote a letter to someone on paper?
June of 2009, but I never gave it to the person, although I still have it.

Can you change the oil on a car?
No, but my car is glad. I am the worst candidate for this job. I would find a way to screw it up.

Ever gotten a speeding ticket?
Nope. The speed limit is my friend.

Ran out of gas?
Nope, the gas gauge is my friend. Plus, I know my car. Now that I said this, I will.

Favorite kind of sandwich?
Chicken and bacon. Together...hugging.

Best thing to eat for breakfast?
I’m a fan of cinnamon bagels with cream cheese. Or waffles with whipped cream. Yum!

What is your usual bedtime?
Whenever I fall asleep. This usually happens between 2am and 4am.

Are you lazy?
No, but when I really don’t feel well I can be.

When you were a kid, what did you dress up as for Halloween?
I was everything from a dinosaur, to rainbow bright, to a pumpkin.

What is your Chinese astrological sign?
Scorpio

How many languages can you speak?
Three. One very well; English, and two others very poorly; Spanish and French, but I can pick up enough to get by.

Do you have any magazine subscriptions?
I do not, but I wish I had one for Cosmo. I like the magazine, even with the sex articles I’ll never use.

Which are better Legos or Lincoln Logs?
Legos are harder to knock over and I am the definition of Murphy’s Law.

Are you stubborn?
No, not at all. You’re being stubborn by asking that! Don’t argue with me! You are being stubborn and I am not wrong about this!

Oh, I guess I can be when I really believe in something.

Who is better...Leno or Letterman?
I like Leno, but my grandma was a dead ringer for Letterman’s mom who was on his show from time to time, so I don’t feel like I can fairly choose.

Ever watch soap operas?
I used to when I was younger, but as a rule I don’t anymore. If there’s nothing on I may turn on SOAP, but I don’t pay much attention.

Afraid of heights?
I’m not fond of them particularly, and if I don’t have to look down I would prefer it, but I can hold myself together and conquer heights if I have to.

Sing in the car?
I’m not sure if this is really a question. I don’t do anything but sing in the car.

Dance in the shower?
I can fall over sitting in a room without nothing in it. This is obviously not a good thing to even try.

Dance in the car?
How does one do this anyway? When I think of dancing, I think of moving your feet around, too. If you’re doing that, you’re probably in jail somewhere for vehicular manslaughter. If you’re talking about moving your hands around, sometimes I do but only at a red light.

Ever used a gun?
No, but I wouldn’t mind learning how to shoot one just in case.

Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?
It’s been about ten years.

Do you think musicals are cheesy?
Yes, yes I do. It doesn’t stop me from watching them, because I personally find myself singing and narrating my whole entire day in doing so, but I don’t pre-write and choreograph my dancing to said song. What gets me with musicals is not the impromptu singing and dancing, but when an entire group suddenly is able to sign the song in complete harmony, and dance the same dance moves with total strangers. No one ever does that when I burst into random song. Maybe I'm just jealous.

Is Christmas stressful?
Depends on how you look at it. I have no family to get together with anymore. It’s just my mom and myself, so in that respect it’s not. I do, however, stress about where I’m hiding everything, and then when I do find a place to hide the gifts, they end up being in my way anyway and I can’t wait to get them out of my way.

Ever eat a pierogi?
Huh. I haven’t. That’s odd.

Favorite type of fruit pie?
Pumpkin with whipped cream.

Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?
Singer, nothing else.

Do you believe in ghosts?
Really questionnaire? Do you? I don’t get a lot of choices over here.

Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?
Yes, quite often.

Take a vitamin daily?
No, but I am on a vitamin D regimen a few times a week.

Wear slippers?
Always. I have to have something on my feet in a house of sixteen animals. It helps.

Wear a bath robe?
In the winter when it’s super cold, I put it in the drier for ten minutes and then cuddle away. It’s like being hugged by a cloud and a blanket rolled into one.

What do you wear to bed?
Pants and a long sleeved shirt, or shorts and a short sleeved shirt depending on the season.

First concert?
I want to be kind of cool and say Britney Spears, and if you’re talking about concerts I actually chose to go to and was aware of, this would be true. However, I remember being around eight and being taken to a Kenny Rogers concert, so technically that was my first.

Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?
Target. It’s more streamlined and easier to find things. Plus, less people go there so you can actually shop without getting run over.

Nike or Adidas?
Neither. I’ve never been a fan of either.

Cheetos Or Fritos?
Cheetos, because of their cheesy goodness. But I don’t want Fritos to feel slighted. I like them, too.

Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?
Sunflower seeds. I was never a fan of nuts. Let the jokes begin.

Ever hear of the group Tres Bien?
No. At first I thought yes, but then I remember I’ve heard the French phrase, but I didn’t know there was a group called such.

Ever take dance lessons?
When I was little I took ballet and tap.

Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?
No. As long as I love him and he loves what he does and has drive, I really don’t care what he does. If he works at McDonald’s and loves it, gets by and it’s the fruit of his being, then God bless him.

Can you curl your tongue?
No. Even my tongue is uncoordinated.

Ever won a spelling bee?
No, but I was always really close.

Have you ever cried because you were so happy?
Yes.

Own any record albums?
I do. I inherited a bunch of older albums from my grandfather, along with his old record player. I only got to add two of my own, which were both Panic! at the Disco albums. Am I right in thinking the ! is back, by the way? I feel so uncool that I'm not sure.

Own a record player?
Questionnaire, you’re not a very good listener. I just told you I did.

Regularly burn incense?
No, but I do burn candles.

Ever been in love?
Yes, and I learned that no matter how great the love, it doesn’t mean you’re meant to be. I don’t regret a thing.

Who would you like to see in concert?
Paramore, A Fine Frenzy and Taylor Swift

What was the last concert you saw?
Automatic Loveletter

Hot tea or cold tea?
I like both, but I drink more cold.

Tea or coffee?
Again, I like both but I tend to drink more cold tea. In the winter, however, it’s a close call. Coffee and I become pretty close.

Sugar or snickerdoodles?
Snickerdoodles. There’s doodle in the name. Automatic win!

Can you swim well?
Very.

Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?
I never hold my nose, even under water, so yes.

Are you patient?
It depends on the situation and how I’m feeling, but sometimes I seem to have endless patience. After sitting in doctors offices as much as I have, you learn that virtue real fast.

DJ or band, at a wedding?
I’m not against either, but I would prefer a band.

Ever won a contest?
I have. In fact, in the only contest I ever won, I won a horse. Yes, a horse. A real, living, breathing horse. It was an essay contest.

Ever have plastic surgery?
No, and I don’t plan on it. The only thing I would ever consider would be evening out my boobs. My one boob is a half of a cup size larger than the other, which means I’m constantly having issues with my bras. I doubt I would ever get it fixed, but I guess if I had the money and I got really bored. Most likely, though, no. I just don’t think it’s worth it.

Which are better black or green olives?
Neither. I’m not a fan of olives. We had a falling out way back in the day, and since then, we've been unable to repair our broken relationship.

Can you knit or crochet?
No, but I can craft just about anything. If someone would show me how, I’m sure I could pick it up and am willing to try.

Best room for a fireplace?
I think living rooms are a very practical place for one, but I’ve always wanted one in my bedroom. I think it’s romantic and relaxing. Who I'm getting romantic with, however, is beyond me.

Do you want to get married?
If I find the right guy, and only if. Deep down inside, I really do, but I am also fine on my own if this doesn’t happen.

If married, how long have you been married?
Unless no one told me I was married, this is irrelevant.

Who was your HS crush?
I was home schooled in high school, so I guess my text book.

Do you cry and throw a fit until you get your own way?
No. I think that’s childish.

Do you have kids?
No.

Do you want kids?
Absolutely. This is not negotiable. I want to adopt a child who has some sort of special needs. Getting married is negotiable. Adopting is not.

Whats your favorite color?
I try not to discriminate. I do tend to be quite fond of certain shades of blue.

Do you miss anyone right now?
At the moment I can honestly say I miss my friend Holly.

Did you watch, Next Great American Band on FOX?
I didn’t even know that was a show.

Good Girls Go Bad - The Boy Who Played Games and Didn't Hear No ~ Part 2

I want to start out by apologizing to all of you for taking a few days to put this up. I intended on putting this up the day after I posted the first part, but I haven't had a chance for several reasons. This is all stuff I will elaborate on later, but for the time being, I'll give you a little taste of what the last few days has been like.

I used to believe in coincidences, but after this week, I no longer do. In the same day I had both an incident involving the memory of my grandma in a very ironic, deep, personal way. I also had an incident involving Friend, which has sent my mind spinning in a hundred different directions. At the same time as everything seems to be a coincidence, I just don't know how it can be. I feel like the universe is trying to tell me something.

On top of that, my father is back in town. Oh yeah, the one I've told you all about. The one who I will call the cops on so fast if he even gets within twenty feet of our property. He has been living out of state for several years, but I've been forewarned he was back and looking for me. Unfortunately he knows where to find me. I'm not playing around with him. I will call the cops. Period.

The doctor's think they have a partial diagnosis for me, but there's more to it than just saying I do or do not have it. The condition is coming up in my tests on my digestive system, but being as my digestive doctor is not an autoimmune doctor he can not diagnose it, even though it's pretty clear what's going on. I have to wait until October to see his wife, who is also my autoimmune doctor, for an official diagnosis. For now, I have some testing coming up Friday. And thankfully, the pending diagnosis is not life threatening, which is terrific considering they thought I had the life threatening version of this condition initially.

So basically that's been the outline of the last few days for me. There's about a million more things I could say, but it's easier just to leave it at that. Like I said, I will elaborate on all of this later. I just wanted you all to know that I wasn't being lazy with not posting the rest of this story.

This post is a continuation of the previous post. If you haven’t read it yet, I would suggest doing that before you read this, or this will make no sense.

The next day, my mom was taking Mike out to show him houses. Now, keep in mind that, as I mentioned earlier, I had not gone with him for two weeks because I was sick. That was the real reason, and I had told him this exact reason. So, as a person at home trying to catch up on some emails and other web correspondence, I logged on Facebook around the time my mom had told me they were meeting at the office to look at houses. Imagine my surprise when I saw him logged on to Facebook. I knew he didn’t have the internet on his phone, so I called my mom to make sure he was there, and if he wasn’t, like I suspected, to let her know that he was obviously going to be late, because THE DUDE WAS ON FACEBOOK.

Of course he wasn’t there. I had wanted to delete him off of Facebook, but I kept him on because my mom asked me to at least try to keep some civilized contact with him. Isn’t it sad when you listen to your mom to try to help her sale a house? Quite frankly, it made me feel skeevy, because I’m not that kind of person. If you become creepy and I don’t want anything to do with you, I’m not going to pretend to so my mom can sell a house. Ultimately, I didn’t pretend to, I just continued to tell him no, instead of telling him to stick it up his you know what. This was unique for me.

I logged off of Facebook to keep myself from flipping out at him and angrily telling him that HE was the one who made the time to meet with my mom and if HE doesn’t have enough courtesy to actually SHOW UP at that time, then he should call her and let her know.

A few minutes later, out of the blue, I get a text from him saying, “You’re going to surprise me and show up today, aren’t you? Are you already there waiting for me?” I had NO idea where this came from. He had already known I wasn’t feeling well, plus I had told him repeatedly that I wasn’t and one hundred percent would NOT be there that night. Again with him thinking I was kidding about something, but why he thought I was showing up when I hadn’t in two weeks for the same reason was totally beyond me. He texted me again about me kidding with him and I ignored it.

My mom let me know that he did finally show up...close to a half an hour late. This is where we’re going to get into a whole other story, so I shall explain that before I tell you what happened next.

A few months earlier, when Mike was acting normal and I adored him, I lent him two DVDs. One was The Amityville Horror, and the other was the whole first season of Supernatural. He had wanted to borrow them and I didn’t see a problem with it. Then, as time went by, he would complain he was bored and going to rent a movie. As it turned out, he wasn’t watching what I had lent him, but instead going and getting other movies. This is a huge pet peeve of mine. If you ask someone if you can borrow movies off of them, for goodness sake, please watch them. I’m not saying you have to watch them immediately, but try to watch them in a decent amount of time and don’t rent a ton of other movies because you’re bored and then tell them about it.

Close to two months had gone by and he still had, and then he started getting uber creepy. I asked him for them back nicely. He asked me why I wanted them back and I told him the simple answer, which was because they were mine and he had had them for two months, and all he did was watch four episodes of Supernatural and rent other movies on a consistent basis. This wasn’t a good enough answer for him. He came back with telling me that I lent them to him, which I guess to him meant he could have them for four years if necessary. I don’t really know where he was going with that, so I rolled my eyes and then I think they popped out of my head in anger.

Normally I can handle things like this myself, but I am a horrible liar, so I asked my mom what to do. She was stumped for a moment, and it seriously took the two of us to come up with telling him that I was having a girls get together and we wanted to watch those movies, and since they were mine, we had every right to watch them. Seriously, this is how little we lie. It took both of us to come up with that, and then I felt bad telling him that since it wasn’t true, even though it was only over instant messenger. And let’s not forget that I was sick and really didn’t want anyone here, so yeah, bad lie. We suck at it. We’re fine with that.

I told him this, stressing that my one friend who was coming was a fan of Supernatural and hadn’t seen the first few episodes, so I especially needed that DVD back. To be honest, I wasn’t worried about ever seeing the other one again, but Supernatural I wanted back, which is why we decided to go with that story. And for future reference, I still have this IM too, plus the following texts, because I feel like I haven’t heard the last of him, and I feel like I may need to protect myself.

Finally, with a reason other than “they’re mine” in tact, he had agreed to give the movies back to my mom when he saw her to house hunt that night, Right after my mom let me know he was at her office, he texts me and tells me that he “had my movies to give to my mom.” Movies. Plural. In text. All was well and good.

Another forty five minutes to an hour passes and things get interesting. As if they could get anymore. Mike asks me if, since he’s returning my DVDs, if he was invited to girls night that he was returning the DVDs for. I told him no. He asks why / begs. I tell him no again, it’s just for girls. Plus, as you all know, there was no girls night. I just wanted my freaking DVDs back, since he didn’t want to give them back just because they were mine.

He then asks if he’ll be getting them back after girls night. WHAT THE DUCK? WHO DOES THAT? No, they’re my movies and you didn’t watch them, so I want them back! I had to lie to you just to get them back! That’s what I wanted to say. Instead I lied and said yes, because at this point, I didn’t want to give him a reason to not give them back. Even though he said he had them to give to my mom, something smelled fishy.

Mike proceeds to text me and tell me that, on Saturday, the night I had lied to him and told him I was having a girl get together, that my mom and her friend Charlene were having a Chuck Norris movie night also at our house, and he was invited and coming to that. He said my mom invited him.

There were several issues with this. One, there was no girls night, so she would have never told him that there was, and then she and her friend were having a Chuck Norris night on top of it. Two, my mom wouldn’t have invited him, because she knew how creepy he was becoming. Three, and this was the only one I could bring up to him at this time; we only have one TV. Uh huh. Yeah. Which he knew, because he had been here before. Plus our house is super small and there is no way we could fit two parties of people in here. I politely pointed out that my mom would have never done that since we didn’t have two TVs. He kept insisting she did. I ignored that notion as best as I could.

Big surprise, he then texts me again and tells me that he “forgot my Supernatural DVD.” I was livid at this point, realizing he had just attempted to play a game with me. When I pointed out that an hour ago he told me he had it, he denied it. Hello, buddy, you TEXTED me this, so denying it isn’t really an option. I had the text.

I knew what was coming next, but I tried to grin and bear it. He tried every single way to worm into how I could get the movie off of him. I, again, told him that I was sick and I was not getting together with him that week. When he wouldn’t back down, I told him that he had borrowed the movies, and it was his responsibility to get them back to my mom as promised, and as he told me he had just an hour before. I hate games. This was clearly one. Normally I would be a little more lenient and just get together with the person and get them, but considering that it was clear he had done this on purpose, I wasn’t about to play ball. The response I got to telling him getting the movies back to my mom was his responsibility? “Okay, whatever.” In guy talk that meant I’d never see my movies again unless I got together with him and I knew it.

At this point, I had had it. He KNEW that Supernatural was specifically the DVD I had wanted back. I told him this through an IM, and then told him several other times so he wouldn’t forget it, and yet that’s the one he conveniently “forgot.” I wasn’t buying it. I wasn’t buying it for one minute and I was ready to tell him that, but then I realized I had something better. He was in the car with my mom and his house was near her office. If you want to play games with someone, make sure you don’t play them when you’re IN THE CAR WITH THEIR MOM! Hello!

I called my mom and told her the situation. As soon as I told her what was going on, she basically told me that he was doing it on purpose. I didn’t know what was up, but I knew something was with as quickly as she told me she’d get them back that night, and hung up. It was more than them just being together, because she had hustled away from him to talk to me.

When my mom came home, she had both movies. She then began to regal me with a tale of her own. She brought up how he was acting weird and kept bringing me up, and it was clear to her he had no interest in looking at houses that night, that he just wanted to see me. She knew I had told him I wouldn’t be there, and she was starting to catch on that he wasn’t actually looking for a house, but that he was trying to get closer to me. I had suspected this for a good while, especially when he started getting angry that I was sick and couldn’t go with him. I told him I would help him look if I could, but there would be times I wouldn’t be going. After all, it wasn’t my job to help him look for a house, but I was trying to be a good friend.

She then started to tell me that they were looking at a house right down the road from his and passed the road to his house to get to it. She had mentioned they could just stop there while going past, and he wouldn’t have it. She took him back to the office when they were done, and then again offered to go home with him to get the movie. He refused and said he’d be back with it. Then, he returned all kinds of pissed off. I don’t even know what to say to that, because first of all, he had no reason to have to drive to his house and get it and come back. My mom offered to stop there under two occasions. Second, he didn’t live that far away. Third, we were really wondering if he had any intentions on giving it back at all, and we decided he didn’t. Most likely, he was going to use it as long as he could to con me into getting together with him, and keep conveniently “forgetting” it each time. Classy.

Oh, and when I brought up the whole Chuck Norris movie night, my mom didn’t even know anything about it. Turns out, he had met her friend Charlene before and conversed with her, so he just decided to pull one out of his ass and see if I would believe it. Charlene is a Chuck Norris freak. It takes about two seconds of knowing her to find that out. There was no Chuck Norris night, which I figured, but since I wasn’t really having a party, I didn’t know if maybe she and Charlene had decided to have one and didn’t tell me yet. But no, they hadn’t. She had no idea what he was talking about whatsoever. She was officially creeped out by him, too.

She also brought up that he told her he was between two houses, after she literally showed him every single house in his price range. EVERY SINGLE ONE. Which is what a realtor does, but she had yet to have anyone see every single house in their price range and not make a decision. He told my mom he wanted to bring his mom and his uncle to see the two houses again on Sunday, so he would call her Thursday to set up a time once he spoke with them. From there, he would decide what house to buy.

I told my mom he would never call her. I knew he never intended on buying a house. It was just that feeling. Sure enough, Thursday rolls around and she doesn’t hear from him. She gives him a call Friday morning and he doesn’t answer. She blows it off, but I was angry. I shouldn’t have been. I should have let it go, but at this point I just wanted him to know that we weren’t buying his absolute bullshit, and I knew the game he was trying to run.

I texted him and nicely asked him what time he and my mom were going to look at houses on Sunday with his mom and uncle. He said that they weren’t going to look at houses. I asked him why he never bothered to at least tell my mom. He claimed he had tried to call her and he didn’t get her. I asked if he left a message and he said no. Now, folks, this is, as you have guessed, total bullshit. He was dumb enough to tell me a time that he tried to call her. Both of us happened to be home, sitting here with her phone on the coffee table in front of us and it never rang. Surprise, he lied.

I called him on it and he basically admitted he had no intentions of going on Sunday. Duh. We know, but we just wanted to see if he’d admit it. This is the point where I deleted him off of Facebook, blocked him off of IM, and wrote him off totally in my book as a decent person. It’s bad enough he tried his games on me several times, but when he starts wasting my mom’s time, it’s on. I’m just done. I had no reason to attempt to be polite to someone who was being a complete jerk to my mom, and had been a complete jerk to me for several weeks. I was done.

My mom tried to be ever hopeful and called him a few more times about setting up another day. Of course he never called her back. This wouldn’t be important, except the saga continues.

Several weeks of peace and no fear that he’s going to show up at my house in the middle of the night go by. I’m sitting here stupidly thinking he finally understands I don’t want him here, although I’ve told him that a zillion times, and the whole telling him I’m done with him / deleting him off my Facebook has actually worked and he gets it. No, no he does not.

I was contacted by a friend who was also mutual friends with him. This wasn’t weird or anything considering that I had gone to the same high school with him, although I didn’t know him because I was only in high school for a few weeks before I got very sick and ended up being pulled out to be home schooled. I still had friends from middle school who knew him. No big.

That’s when she suddenly asks me when I’m finally going to go with Mike to buy a house. I had no idea what she was talking about, nor had I brought up Mike, because it wasn’t worth venting my issues with him at her. Why would I do that? I had no reason.

She proceeds to tell me that he is interesting in buying a house off of my mom and that I haven’t called him back about going to see the house with him so I could help him pick one. He was bugging her about it for some reason. This was news to me, considering what had happened just a few weeks earlier. Plus, I never agreed to this, nor had anything been said. I didn’t say anything to her and let her talk, only to find out that apparently he didn’t want to buy a house until he knew I liked it. And he was upset that I hadn’t called him yet, because he’d be very mad at me if someone else bought the house while he was waiting for me. She was also under the impression that we were dating. Say what now? My reaction exactly.

Needless to say, I was floored. I had no idea what was going on. I also was not about to call him, because I suspected this was another ploy for him to get me to get together with him. Plus, like any sensible person who had it with someone being a creep, I deleted his number. He was obviously being a creep again. Why else would he tell one of our mutual friends, the one that the last I heard he was angry with and was “done talking to,” but knew I talked to, this? Why? He sold her an entire story that he was still interested in buying a house and basically it was my fault he hadn’t yet.

In the next few days, I ended up finding out from several other girls who knew him, and also knew me, that he had done practically the same thing to them as well, only minus the whole buying a house thing. He played other games fitting to their situation on them. I hadn’t told them what he had done to me, but instead I was suddenly impaled with stories about how he started harassing other girls in this same sense; sending them non stop texta, trying to con them into getting together with him, just showing up at their houses, etc.

I suspect the friend who told me about the house thing, had brought it up what he was doing to these other girls, and in turn, they decided to tell me their stories, because I didn’t bring it up with them. The reason I suspect this happened is because that same friend also proceeded to also tell me an almost identical story. I never knew this. What made her tell me is when I was trying to figure out what she was talking about when she was telling me that he was waiting for me to call him. She told me she suspected he was trying to pull something and came out with it.

On top of that, I started to unravel even more lies he had told me. Over the two weeks when he was texting me consistently, I started to pick up on a bunch of lies. Apparently, he couldn’t remember what he was lying about. It was stupid stuff, too; stuff he should never have to lie about. That’s when I realized they were situational lies. What do I mean by that? Let me explain.

At one time when we were just getting to know each other, we had talked about doing something on a Saturday. He told me that on Saturdays he was “scheduled to work” and he “had to go in” so he wouldn’t be able to do anything. Then, during those two weeks, he scheduled an appointment with my mom on a Saturday. When I brought up him having to work on Saturdays, as he had told me before, he told me that he “never had to work Saturday,” and that “working Saturdays was optional.”

Obviously, this was a situational lie. When we were getting to know each other, he told me he had to work because he wasn’t willing to miss the hours to hang out with me. Fair enough and I don’t blame him. But later, when he wanted to cling to me like white on rice, he told what I would assume to be the truth, since, even though he knew I wasn’t going with him that Saturday, he went with my mom anyway. So either that was the truth, or he called off work to go house hunting.

I caught him in at least a dozen of these lies. I couldn’t understand it for the life of me, but he was sounding less and less appealing. If he was lying to me about stupid things like that, what else was he lying to me about? And the lies just kept coming.

Another thing he lied about; do you all remember the story about the census taker midget that his co-worker’s mentally challenged nephew thought was a gnome and kidnapped him? After reading that story, a Canadian friend of mine contacted me and let me know that this was an actual, published story that happened in her own home town. Only the person wasn’t a census taker. I can not, not, for the life of me, remember what she said he was.

When Mike told the story, his co-worker’s nephew lived in the area. I will never know if Mike saw the news story online and didn’t think anyone else did, so he decided to make up the elaborate lie about how that happened to someone he worked with, or if his co-worker lied to him and he spread it around. Either way, I am so sorry that I lied to you. I mean, the story still happened, just not here and not to anyone I knows acquaintances.

Quite frankly, this whole thing saddens me and makes me a little sick to think about. I really trusted Mike, and then all of this happened. I have a feeling it’s not over, either, but I really hope it is.

As we all also know, there are two sides to ever story. Part of me would like to know his, because no matter what way I slice it, I don’t see how this story doesn’t come out creepy. All I know is what he said to me, how I responded, and what continued to happen after that. The rest is beyond me. As I said before, even if I do hear his side, there’s nothing that can be done to repair the friendship. He was still a creep, whether he realized it or not. I don’t know how he couldn’t have, or how he thought all of these games were okay.

Also, to tell our one friend that he was waiting for me to call him, he definitely doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. And obviously, having done this to other girls, he doesn’t think it’s creepy. He’s done this to other girls, one girl even telling me he “took advantage of her.” This made me more glad that I didn’t let him come over just to shut him up, but my gut knew better.

Part of me sincerely wants to contact him and tell him how creepy his behavior is, but I know that will do no good. I would never want to do it to be facetious, but I wonder if he sincerely doesn’t know and every other girl, like me, just wants away from him as fast as possible as doesn’t care to tell him. Then again, after the games he’s played, I don’t know how he couldn’t know. If you weren’t doing something skeevy, you would have no need to play games on purpose, and he obviously felt he had the need to do so.

What I’m saying, girls, is please just watch your backs. This story is a perfect example of how someone who seems like a great friend, a great man, a great person, can turn creepy so quickly. One nice gesture, such as letting someone stay over your house so they don’t fall asleep and wreck on the way home, may not mean that to them, even though you’ve made it clear that was the only reason they were allowed to stay. In this case, it was decided by the other party that there was more to it than that, and it spiraled.

You never know what kind of person someone is, or what is going on in their mind. What you think you made clear, someone else could interpret as something else, and refuse to hear the truth by choice. The more I think back on some of his texts, especially the vacation ones, the more I think he truly believed after that night we were going out. However, I have gone over the texts time and time again, and I told him repeatedly we were just friends and I wasn’t interested in dating him. At one point I told him I was interested in someone else, which was true, and he seemed to get upset. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, but I sure do now.

So watch for the little signs, and the little things. Be careful. If something doesn’t feel right, it’s not. It’s okay to put something off that doesn’t feel right, because you know what, that’s usually when someone’s true colors show and you’ll find your answer as to why your gut was churning with anxiety, sick about something just being off, even if you couldn’t put your finger on it.

If you can’t put something off, protect yourself. Whether it’s with mace, just in case, or, my personal favorite, arm yourself with a pack of friends if you must get together with the person. Be smart about it. When your gut tells you something, listen. Always, always listen.

I did, in this case, even though I truly thought I was the one being stupid about things, and misinterpreting things. He was just lonely, right? Maybe, but even if that’s still true, I can’t help but wonder if he would have “taken advantage of me” like he had with my other friend had I let him come here. I also can’t help but wonder what would have happened if I would have said no and tried to push him away...home alone with him. If I have to wonder, it’s proof enough that my gut was right. You gut is always right.

Confidential to Zoe - Okay, I am going to totally email you on Facebook something that I ask to keep private between the two of us. When I do, you will understand why I am emailing you about this specific comment. I just want you to know that I'm sorry for all you've been through with your friend Mike, and I completely understand how you feel. Sometimes, no matter what you say, guys hear what they want to hear. I hope that things get better and he learns to understand and accept your stance, or realize that he was never a good friend to you if all he had were other intentions in mind, and move on. I know that sounds so harsh, but sometimes it's for the best. I agree with you; honesty is best. I have so much respect for you for having learned that at such a young age where most people want to be everything they are not. This will carry you far in love and life.

I really hope you feel better soon! I will come sing campfire songs to your illness if necessary. That normally chases them away. Nothing, not even colds, can withstand a marathon of campfire songs. You are keeping me company in spirit and I appreciate it so much. You are an amazing girl! I love your blog. I love the pictures and the simplicity of it, and if you were to tell a story, I would love that, too! Maybe a story you think you are not telling so well, everyone else will love. I don't fancy myself a storyteller; let me just put it to you that way.

Good Girls Go Bad - The Boy Who Played Games and Didn't Hear No ~ Part 1

In the last post, I told you all about amazing friends and people who are truly beautiful on the inside. This post is not about those people. Also, just so those people know, I will be heading over to Facebook to send you both messages regarding your comments. I love you gals!

A few months ago, I promised you all a story about a serious friend flop that was funny and sad all the same. I later told you that I was going to hold off on telling it until the storm had blown over. The storm was over for me as soon as I decided I could not be friends with this person anymore, obviously, but there were other circumstances pending so I decided to hold off until things worked themselves out. I am holding off no more, and by that, I mean this story shall be told with no bars held.

I want to make it clear before I start this story that I am not telling everything to get back at the person of whom is also part of this story. The thing is, I’m not even mad at them. If anything, I’m completely put off by their behavior and a little sad that they felt the need to act the way that they did. I still wish I understood it.

I also threw the idea of not using this person’s name back and forth, however, you already know this person. To really get into this story, it’s important to know who I’m talking about, because I think you, too, will be shocked by this story, therefore, understanding where this story is coming from.

This person had previously given me permission to use their name and their stories on this blog before, so now isn’t going to be any different. Please keep in mind that normally I would never, ever, use the person’s name; see the Friend saga. However, in this situation, there is absolutely no way you would be able to find out who this person was. Several of you are friends of mine on Facebook, but this friend is no longer a friend of mine on Facebook or any other social network, therefore, you will not be able to find out who they are in any way, shape or form. If there was some way you could, I guarantee you that I would not use the person’s name. I also understand that I use the names Becky 1, Becky 2 and Becky 3. They are also okay with this, and there isn’t really a way you could figure out which is which. I always check with people before using their names and what not. I respect my friends and their privacy.

Aside from that, I also have another friend with the same name who is still my friend on Facebook. Please do not yell at him. He has enough problems and he is definitely not the person involved in this story. In fact, I can not say enough nice things about this person.

Last, I would like to let you know why I am telling a story that paints someone in a not so good light, and how that ties in with it being important that you know who this friend is from other posts for this post to really stick. The reason is that I have no true way of enforcing to the young women who read this blog that you have to be so careful with people. You have to watch your back, especially with guys. No matter how well you think you know them, something like this could happen. Granted, this story is the tame end of what could happen when you think you know somebody but don’t, but there was the potential for this to get dangerous and I realized it soon enough. If you realize it soon enough to break off a relationship and cut off all contact with a person, you are much safer.

This story is one hundred percent being put out there in hopes of helping the point stick that you have to be so careful. I don’t want any of my readers getting hurt. I love you all. Please understand that is why I am telling this story. It’s not about revenge, or trying to show this person in a bad light, it is to prove that sometimes even the people who seem like the sweetest, most easy going people, are not who you think they are no matter how long you have known them. And so the story goes...

Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there was a young woman looking for her prince charming, but instead kept finding frogs. As the old wives' tale goes, you have to kiss a lot of frogs to find your prince. I say they lie and I’m tired of kissing frogs. They’re slimy and gross, and for the lack of a more mature word, ewwwugh! Actually, I like frogs just fine, but the kissing part doesn’t sit well with me.

And that’s enough of that.

I’ve spent years being told I was a good story teller; that I could keep people captivated, but no matter what I’ve written or what stories I’ve told, I’ve learned two things. One, nothing anyone could ever write compares to real life and the true stories that come out of it. Two, kissing boys is a lot like kissing a slimy frog, because the more boys you kiss, the more you find that a lot of them are dogs, or, you know, slime. I don’t want to insult any dogs here.

This is where my story comes in. The real one, not the fairy tale one.

On the flip side of every story and everything I’ve ever believed in, sometimes the guys who do the stupidest things aren’t the bad guys, they’re just extremely immature, or haven’t had the best past and it keeps them from making the right decisions. Other times, the guys who seem really great turn out to be severely misrepresenting themselves, and then things unravel very quickly and leave you wondering what in the heck just happened. This is the story I shall tell.

On this blog I’ve previously told stories about a friend named Mike. Yes, really awesome friend that I’ve written about, with his permission, and was helping house hunt. You didn’t expect me to write anything unbecoming about him, did you? To be honest, I didn’t either. I never, ever, thought I’d have anything but wonderful, rainbow like thing to say about him. Mike was awesome and I really enjoyed his company. He was sweet, a little shy, and the kind of guy that it seemed every girl wanted. I really wished that I liked him, but I think in the back of my mind I knew that something was just a little off

Even though, things were going great and we were having a good time hanging out as friends, and then things got...well, weird. I don’t know how else to put it. Please keep in mind when reading this that I have absolutely nothing against Mike. I’m just totally befuddled by this, to say the least. I also know there are two sides to every story, but at this point, no matter what he says to me, there’s no way his side could change my mind about being friends with him after the way he acted. Sad, isn’t it?

One night after I was helping Mike house hunt, he came over afterwards and we watched The Princess Bride. This night happened to be one of the nights that my mom was working nightshift taking care of an older lady. I thought nothing of it. We watched the movie, and when it was over he was literally falling asleep on the couch. I told him to stay, because I didn’t want him to die by falling asleep driving home. He stayed on the couch, I had a Gilmore Girls marathon, he woke up early in the morning and went home. No big deal, right?

Well, apparently it was, because this is when everything changed, and to be completely honest with you, I have no idea why. I am completely, one hundred percent honest on this blog, and that is all that happened that night to a tee. Period. It was completely innocent, there was not even any flirting or anything, and I’ve made it clear to him before that I had no interest in him as more than a friend. That wasn’t even an issue. I was just glad to have an awesome guy friend who could stay over as a friend and not want more, or even bring it up.

Mike went on vacation with his family post him leaving my house that morning. For the next five days while he was gone he seemed glued to texting me constantly. I thought absolutely nothing of it because he was on vacation with this family, and I figured he had just had with them and needed someone else to talk to. There was some conflict in his family while he was gone, and he was really bored. I text when this happens, too.

I also enjoyed talking to him, but it was just a whole lot of texting that I wasn’t used to between the two of us. He started getting really flirty and I jokingly flirted back, but made it very clear to him in every single way possible that I was not interested in him. I didn’t think he was interested in me either. Quite frankly, I thought he was just playing around, which is why I played back, but still made sure to let him know it was as friends. I didn’t know why he was acting that way, but I thought it was just the stress of a vacation he didn’t necessarily want to be on. I would quickly learn that I should not have chalked it up to vacation.

He was coming home on a Sunday. We had talked about getting together when he got home, because that’s what normal friends do, but we didn’t set a day. On that Sunday, while he was heading home in his parents car, he did something I really hate, but also tried to ignore because I thought I had known him well enough to know he was a great guy, and I also thought that I was just being silly.

He started out by telling me that when he got home he was thinking about going out, because he’d probably be too wired to go to bed, and he wanted to know if I wanted to come. I passed. He didn’t know when he’d be in, and I didn’t want to make any promises in case he got in later than he thought and it was just later than I wanted to go out. I’m such a party pooper, I know. But in my defense, my mom was working that night, and if he got in late I really didn’t want to leave the dogs alone at night, as they’re used to someone being here. I like to keep a gentle balance.

After I passed, he brought up that he was also “thinking about coming to my house, like I had offered before.” I was in the middle of doing a bunch of things when he texted, so I told him if he didn’t get in too late, he was welcomed here. I didn’t think that was weird, until about an hour later when I realized I had never “offered,” as he put it, to have him come over when he got home. It was definitely a red flag. I tried to let it go, but it ate at me as the night went on.

I was still going to let him come over, because I had agreed, even though I wasn’t thinking when I had. At the time when he had asked, he said he would be home about eight or eight thirty by the looks of where they were. I didn’t see a problem with this. We could hang out for awhile, and if I still felt really odd about things, I could always ask him to leave when my mom left to go to work for the evening. No harm, no foul, and I could see if I was just being silly.

By the time my mom left, he still hadn’t called, or texted. I had tried texting him to see where he was, but he never got back to me. It soon became after ten and I hadn’t heard a word from him. My dogs were fast asleep, which is really a rarity when my mom is gone for the night, the house was quiet, and Mike had to go to work in the morning. I figured he didn’t think he’d be getting in that late, and quite frankly, because I felt odd about everything, I didn’t really want him to come over, especially when the house was so quiet, so I texted him and told him very plainly that, since it was late and the house was quiet, that I did not want him to come over.

I got a text back almost immediately saying that he had “just pulled in” and “was on his way over.” Considering he hadn’t answered any of my other texts, but suddenly jumped on the one where I told him not to come over, I smelled something fishy. To make a long story short, I proceeded to again, very clearly tell him not to come over because the dogs were asleep, the house was quiet, I wasn’t going to have him come over, wake up the dogs, stay for awhile, and then wake them up again to leave. At this point, it was late and it was pointless. Besides that, he’d have to get some sleep to go to work in the morning, and we couldn’t hang out for long. I wanted to tell him that something didn’t seem right, but I didn’t, and still stayed honest with him.

This proceeded with him sending me three more texts insisting that it was “no problem” that he come over. Clearly, he wasn’t getting the hint. At one point, he even offered to stay the night so he didn’t wake the dogs. No, something was definitely not right here. The problem; he was not hearing no. We went back and forth several more times, me now losing the nice and telling him NOT to show up here. Finally he got the picture, but unfortunately I was about to learn that this would become a pattern.

From here, it wasn’t hard to figure out that my letting him stay here that one night suddenly became an open invite for him to be able to stay here whenever he wanted to, or he thought I “needed him.” Listen, buddy, I stayed home alone a lot of nights when my mom worked nightshift. Yes, me, all by myself. Do I like staying home myself at night? No. Am I perfectly fine doing it? Yes. I don’t need you, which he nicely tried to tell me a few times. No matter how nice you try to tell me it, the truth is I don’t, and quite frankly, it becomes apparent that this is the play you’re using to try to get me to let you stay at my house when I keep turning you down.

He tried and said anything to get me to let him come over. He tried asking, he tried worming his way in. Hell, one time I told him no, don’t come over, and about an hour later he said he was a few minutes away. He was going to stop and get ice cream and come over. I told him no again and said we’d been through this. His response was, “but I’m just bringing ice cream.” Yes, at 9:30 at night, after my mom has conveniently just left for work.

If there’s one thing I hate more than someone who won’t hear no, it’s someone who thinks they’re going to be cute and worm their way into doing something I said no to by trying to present it like they’re really doing something else for me, or doing me a favor. I told him when we first met to not try to pull one over on me, because you will not win. I catch pretty much everything and can smell bullshit from a mile away, but still he thought he was going to try.

Another thing that got me was that he started planning sleepover and movie nights at my house. Yeah, you read that right. With and without my mom. I never invited him. Ever. This was not happening. Because of this, there were several times where I couldn’t be very nice and had to straight out tell him to not come over here because I would not let him in. There’s never any reason to have to tell someone that.

To be honest, this is where I’d normally tell someone to leave me alone and that we were no longer friends. However, if you remember, my mom was helping him find a house, so I tried to continue to tolerate his behavior for the sake of that, even though I had been showing my mom his texts, and telling her about how pushy he was being. When it got to a certain point, I really thought someone should be aware of the way he was acting.

I was also getting a little nervous to stay at the house myself, since my mom had casually mentioned to him what days she would not be home while they were out house hunting. Yes, I was upset with her for doing this when she knew how he was acting, but she claimed she didn’t realize she had done it. Sometimes my mom legitimately does things and doesn’t realize it until later. I did, however, start trying to find someone to stay with me. I was afraid he was just going to show up, and I think I had every right to be. His behavior hit a chord with me, and I was honestly quite creeped out by him.

To make matters worse, over the two weeks proceeding him getting home from vacation, I also became very ill. This meant that the last thing I wanted was anyone here with me while I did not feel well. I didn’t want anyone staying with me, and I certainly didn’t want to deal with someone who wasn’t hearing no. I know normally when people are ill they want someone with them, but in my case, I’m ill often with my health issues, and I know there’s nothing anyone can do to help me. Plus, I know how I feel and I know when I’m just generally ill, and when there’s the potential for something bad to happen. I was just generally ill and felt crappy, so I was fine by myself and really, really, didn’t want anyone here.

Imagine how happy I was when I had to ask someone to come stay with me because Mike wasn’t getting the picture to not come over, even though I had told him no, told him I was ill, and told him pretty much everything but to go bite himself and leave me alone. Not very.

In these two weeks, as you also probably guessed, I was unable to go house hunting with him. Me being sick worked out, as horrible as that sounds, because I could use it as a reason, not an excuse, to not go. I was glad, because I was afraid if I went that he would literally invite himself over after, and then, despite hearing no, still come over. In other words, I was afraid him seeing me would fuel his fire and things would get worse. I honestly wanted nothing more than to keep my distance and not encourage his behavior.

Another thing he was doing was that, every night when I would turn him down, he would then ask me to come hang out with his friends at a place right near my house, and tell me he would pick me up and bring me home. Another ploy? You know it. You know he was doing this again, just to get to stay overnight.

After awhile of me telling him no, he started to get mad, which is when my mom put two and two together and realized he had probably told his friends that things had happened the night he was here, and was going to introduce me to them so they knew he was telling the truth. We thought things couldn’t get much worse, then the kicker came.

One night he was texting me about coming over, surprise, surprise, and I again told him I was not feeling well, I did not want him to come over, like I had so many times before. Also, on this night, my mom was home, so I brought that up to him but that didn’t deter him one bit. Obviously, like I had so thought, he just wanted to come over. I don’t know why he kept insisting on coming over / wanting to stay here, or what he thought he was going to get out of me, but I was soon about to find out that what he had in mind was not what I had in mind.

Before I go any further, I would like to tell you all that the very first thing I tried when this crazy texting started, was ignoring the text once I realized he wasn’t getting the hint. If I ignored them, however, he took this as a sign to either keep texting me every few minutes until I answered him, or that he was invited over and then I’d still end up texting him for an hour trying to stop him from coming over. It was easier just to answer his texts, with stock, stern answers, and just keep repeating no until he got it.

During that night’s texting, he happened to say to me, “I know what you what.” Those exact words, my friends. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I asked him, when seconds later I got a picture message from him. Even though he was acting creepy, part of me still thought he was a nice guy; just really lonely and creepy because of it. That part of me was an idiot, because when I opened the picture it was a picture of him in a bathrobe, obviously wearing nothing under it. If he was in arms reach, I guarantee you I would have slapped the ever living crap out of him. You just do not send people pictures like that. You do NOT! Especially when it comes out of complete left field and has nothing to do with the vacation, so the poor person receiving it could have never seen it coming.

I was taken aback and really offended, plus completely grossed out, especially considering I had no attraction to him in that way whatsoever, no physical attraction to him, and he had been creepy for all of this time. I immediately told him that was NOT what I wanted and it was completely inappropriate for him to send me a picture like that. He responded by telling me that I was so funny, and that it was okay just to admit that, that was what I wanted. I didn’t have to act like it wasn’t.

Needless to say, I immediately showed these texts plus the picture to my mom so she knew exactly what was going on, and understood why I was about to not be all so chummy with Mike anymore. She was really pushing me to be nice because she had put a ton of work and man hours into selling him a house, but at this point I didn’t much care. I just wanted him as far away from me as possible. I still, by the way, have these texts in case he ever decides to come back around and cause issues. I could not have been more clear with him that I was not kidding, but he kept insisting I was, which was something else he was doing when I told him not to come over. He kept insisting I was kidding. How many times and in how many ways can someone say no until he gets it?

In the next post, we shall explore that question. Usually I don’t break my posts in two, but this story is quite long, and I don’t want to bore anyone to death.