Today

Readers, I promised I would share my test results as soon as I knew them. I got my labs back today, on a Saturday, so I had a feeling there may be an issue. My kidneys are not functioning properly. I am going into the doctor on Monday to find out why. I'm hoping that it's something that can be fixed, but it seems as if, in one way or another, my kidneys are failing. Depending on the cause, the way I understand, this can sometimes be fixed with a hospital stay. I don't know how often I'm going to find myself on this blog until I get things sorted out. I am terrified. I am only twenty five. I know it's not the end of the world, but it's scary not knowing what's causing this and if it can be fixed. As soon as I can write again or have a better idea of what's going on, I will let you all know.

Things I Have Learned From Music

I didn't expect to write so soon, and quite honestly there's not a bone in my body that feels like doing it, which is exactly why I am. For a week I have been so sore that I've had issues just getting around. Yesterday I did good. I got around decently, got things done and fought through it. Today I didn't have the same luck. I spent my Thanksgiving sleeping and feeling icky. How did you guys spend your Thanksgiving? And for those of you who don't celebrate, how did you spend your day?

Tonight there was a Taylor Swift special on. I almost fell asleep through it because I was just that tired, and not because Taylor was boring. I think you all know by now how much I love Taylor. I turn into a sixteen year old girl who doesn't scream, but becomes awfully gleeful. There's not many people I would get star struck around, but she'd be one of them.

While I was listening to her talk about her deeply personal album, Speak Now, I got to thinking about a lot of things, and a lot of feelings. There's feelings specifically that have caught me up lately.

One is fear. I am one of those people who isn't afraid of much of anything. If it was the middle of the night and something went bump, I'd be most likely to go search out what it was first. If my feet fall out from under me, I just find a new way around. Up until now, I haven't been too afraid of what's going on with my health. I've been worried. I've been concerned, but I knew it would work out. I've never anxiously awaited a test or worried for days over something endlessly.

I feel like that's what I'm doing now, and I'm trying to find the strength not to do that and not to complain, because the truth is, I don't have it that bad. There are many people in worse positions than me that handle it far better than I am now, so what gives me the right to complain? Nothing.

I am scared this time, though. When I first started having these symptoms I brushed it off. But now the doctor is worried that there's something wrong with my kidneys. I'm not getting ahead of myself or over-thinking things, but this scares me. Auto-immune disorders I can handle, but this is frightening. I feel like I'm just sitting around waiting for test results and can't keep my mind off of it. I feel weak and I feel like a loser for doing it. I feel like I'm playing the violin at my own pity party and I don't like it. Where are my big girl panties and when the hell am I going to put them back on?

I don't like this side of myself. I have no right to feel this way. My motto has always been "fearlessly *insert age here*" Now I feel like that's a lie. I miss being fearless, because being fearless means facing your fears. I'm not doing that right now.

Taylor's music moved me into realizing there's more that I'm not doing right now; I haven't in awhile. I'm not feeling anything for anyone. I don't remember what it feels like to feel anything for anyone. I want to work my way into the dating world, to find someone and take that walk down the aisle when and if the time is right, but I feel like a liability to someone. I've always been myself and I've been happy with that, but with my health, I know that dating me is going to be difficult on someone and I don't feel like I have the right to put that on someone.

If I find the right person, I'll know. There are some great guys out there despite what I want to think and sometimes say, but it's finding them. I haven't connected with anyone is so long that I don't remember what it feels like. If I ever find someone who enchants me, will I know?

Pause

I apologize for not updating for awhile. I had an onslaught of symptoms I had never had before come on over night. I've been in a lot of pain and feel as if my entire body is swollen, among other things. At first it was chalked up to being tissue swelling from my autoimmune disorder.

However, instead of getting better, I've gotten progressively worse to the point where I'm having trouble just sitting up without support. And sometimes with support I still have trouble and keep slumping forward. Forget standing. I am writing this half sitting / half lying against a pile of pillows.

I got the bad news today that the doctor now thinks I'm having a serious kidney problem. Hopefully it's nothing of the sort. I go for blood testing first thing in the morning, and then am to see my GP ASAP around the holidays. If I'm not on for awhile, this is why. The whole thing has taken me off guard, but I'm trying not to let the worst thoughts get the best of me. It may not be that. I hope it's not my kidneys. As soon as I'm up and around better, I will let you all know how things are going.

I also apologize for not updating my stories. I can barely concentrate, but I promise I am still trying, but mostly failing, to work on them. They will be updated when circumstances allow. I promise when I said I was having health problems and may update infrequently, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I wasn't having these kinds of health problems.

Until then, for those of you who celebrate it, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

The Most Bizarre Half an Hour of Your Life

For those of you who don't follow me on Facebook, you've not seen how my page has become accosted by birthday wishes, therefore, you probably don't know that today, November the 11th, is my birthday.

I love all of you for accosting my page like it were a puddle of mud in a pig pen. You all made me feel so special. I have the most awesome friends. I also realize the reference possibly made me sound like Hannah Montana and her deader-than-a-possum-on-a-freeway speech. I'm okay with that.

Since, at ten thirty pm on my birthday, I have nothing else to do, I am going to return the accosting tendency and accost you all with the longest blog post in the history of the world. It might even win a prize.

But seriously, you guys, the receiver on our satellite protested, and when we didn't meet its demands, it very non dramatically croaked. We were given the option to go buy a new one for a hundred dollars or get one for free in three to five days. Obviously we're not stupid. The next three to five days could be interesting, though. I like to watch television when I eat and generally have it on all day for the noise. I also like to have it on at night for noise and movement. I'm a little lost as to what to do with myself without the added noise, so it could get crazy up in this bitch, yo. (The yo is compliments of Becky 1. I'm kinda not sorry for typing that, but I'll try to never type it again. Try. Key word. I think I can get away with it since it's my birthday and all I wanted to do was relax with a little television, but now I can't. And yes, my birthday is totally an excuse for everything. And when that doesn't work I'm going all Selena Gomez via Wizards of Waverly Place and claiming my entire birthday week.)

Before I start telling you about my birthday and all my favorite, ridiculous things, I want to take a moment to thank all the Veterans. Today is also Veterans Day. For those of you not living in the US it's, well, a day where we honor Veterans. I will be second to a Veteran any day of my life, especially on my birthday. They've given so much and should be honored first and above all else. So should their friends and families. That job, that support...it's difficult, too. People forget about the families just as people, and forgive this reference, but it's awesome, forget about the victims of serial killers, but remember the killers. That may not have come out right, but you get the picture. I am thankful for all they've done, and continue to do and give to this country.

I also want to take a second to say that I've always found it ironic that I was born on Veterans Day. My grandpap was my best friend in life, and I miss him more than words can express in death. He was a Veteran. Today will always be his day, not mine. And speaking of missing people, this is my first year without my grandma. It's been harder than I thought, you guys. I miss that one phone call, that day out with her, and everything else about her.

And in far less important news, did I mention it was my birthday? Because it is, and I'm going to tell you all about it. Unless you don't want to hear it, in which case you can just skip this post. At least I was up front with you all about what it was about first.

I am now a quarter of a century old. There's something about a milestone birthday that really makes you stop and say, "damn, where did the time go?" I don't have an answer to that either. And when my mom's friend called to wish me a Happy Birthday and asked my mom how old I was, I told her not to tell her. First time in my life folks, and I'm twenty five. I never thought I'd be one of those people to lie about my age, but I see it coming. Oh yes, I do. Luckily, everyone averages my age between seventeen and twenty one based on how old I look, so I might be able to get away with it.

I also got a phone call from my grandpap's brother's wife. Yep, let's go over it again. Technically, she's my great aunt, but I wanted to add that she's my grandpap's brother's wife because I was so close to my grandpap, and was thoroughly bummed his brother, who is possibly one of the most hysterical men alive (eat it Conan), was not around to talk. They live several states away and I haven't seen them in years, but I was happy to hear from her! It made me all kinds of joyous just in time for the Christmas season!

We all know birthdays aren't about presents, until they are, but they're really not. Therefore, I decided to give presents, too. To the pets, naturally. It excites me. But since it is my birthday (a little overboard? probably) I will share with you what I got. And I have nothing else to do, so I'm sorry.

My mom bought me two adorable Hallmark ornaments. I have the Fairy Messengers Series, so she got me my new one for that. She also got me this year's daughter ornament, which is a snowman that kind of looks like a penguin and is wearing a hat. This means he's funny all over, which makes me gleeful.

She also got me the new Taylor Swift CD. I had that baby in the player before you could say Taylor Swift. My CD player is extremely temperamental and only works when it wants and with what CD it wants to work with. It took four tries, but it finally played. I have two things to say about this CD other than it is awesome, because it's Taylor Swift, so that's implied.

1. My favorite song is Speak Now. It's completely cheeky with a happy, easy little beat.

2. The artwork on the album is beautiful. And instead of enjoying it, I wondered how expensive it was to shoot that many different looks, and how many days it took.

Those are the gifts my mom paid for. Now, I know what you're thinking. But Cassadee, you don't have to spend money on gifts for them to be meaningful. No, no you do not. In fact, all my mom's birthday gifts are going to be homemade, so it's cool. I'm down with free or cheap gifts. But my mom took it to a new, hysterical level.

I am a fan of free sample sites such as this one. And sometimes, if you're really lucky, you can get free magazine subscriptions. I'm a magazine hoarder, but I don't buy them because they're too expensive. I found some awesome subscriptions and ordered them. Yesterday, two of those magazines came in the mail. Since I didn't get the mail, I didn't know. My mom wrapped them and gave them to me. Yep, she gave me my own magazines that I ordered...for free. I'm still cracking up.

A little later in the day Aunt Bev came over. We're going to get to the debauchery later, which there wasn't much, surprisingly, but right now we're talking presents. I don't know if you've all seen this, but several months ago Aunt Bev got me an early birthday present in the form of a necklace and let me keep it to wear it. And wear it I did.

Today she brought along a pair of slippers. They are quite possibly the cutest, and warmest slippers ever. They're red with white snowflakes and trees with buttons as ornaments. I kind of have a serious thing for slippers, so this works for me. She also got me a neon snowman that lights up in intervals. I also love snowmen and enough neon to light Vegas. He's very distracting and I might end up watching him, or her, for the equivalent of time I would normally watch TV. Tell me, friends, should my snowman be a him or a her? And what should I name him/her/it?

Also, she gave me money, which is more than generous. But there was a catch. Aunt Bev knows me too well and knows that I would take that money and buy Christmas gifts for her and my mom, so she made me promise I'd show her what I bought. You all, I've been shanghaied into buying myself things I actually want with my own birthday money. It's so right and so wrong. The hardest thing is going to be figuring out what I actually want to buy, because there's a few CDs and what not that I'd like, and she made me promise I'd buy something just for me.

Because I know you have to be sick of hearing about my birthday, I'm going to interrupt my own blog to talk about two things.

One, I want to thank Zoe for liking my hair. It makes me happy! ILY! Also, since I don't have an actual television to watch, the next couple days are looking good for watching a few episodes of Moonlight online so I can be in the know to read more of your story.

Two, did anyone else see Criminal Minds last night? Because I want to talk Criminal Minds. I don't know if you all feel this way, too, but it seems like their not polishing off their story lines like they used to. The great story lines are there, the script is good, but it's like they're putting it out too soon before they smooth out all the rough spots. Don't get me wrong, I still love the show, but I'm a little bummed but could live. And then last night happened.

For those of you who watch the show, you know Dr. Reid is socially inept at best, and at worst an autistic genius with Asperger's and a mother who is schizophrenic, which is inherited. They've worked really hard to create a believable, viable character and Matthew Gray Gubler's portraying of him is spot on. Reid is obviously a character that has been meticulously plotted and designed. He's the guy who lives to work, who often alienates himself even in a group of his peers with his genius and lack of social skills, and who doesn't date. At all. Yeah guys, judging by that last part only he could be me. I know. I'm like Reid with no excuse and dumber.

So imagine my shock last night when, during a scene, they had him tune out from his job to check out a girl. (The scene is at 23:15 if you want to see it.) Yeah. No. Wrong. The gong is sounding. You are being buzzed. Slime is coming at you. The music from Jeopardy just stopped playing. Although the scene was hysterical and cute, it didn't fit Reid at all. I was far more disappointed in it than I should have been. I think it was put in there to add humor to the show, but this is a guy who, when the girl he liked kissed him, he tried to talk her out of it by explaining transference. Then he said the wrong thing and it all went to hell, and instead of sulking, he went right back to work like it never happened. This is the guy who took a co-worker on a date and it tanked, so he worked side by side with her without a word for the next five seasons.

This is a girl who needs a life.

And now, because I have ADHD, I shall bring you right back to my birthday. My mom came up with this game of forty questions where I had to pick one of two answers and she and Aunt Bev would try to match said answer I picked. I was going to share all forty with you, but then you'd all be snoozing, so here are the highlights of my wacky rational.

Would you rather be the President of the United States, or a cross dressing TV star who gave three million to charity in cash and prizes a year?

Obviously, it's the second one. And not just because I got to give money away. Although that would be my favorite part; helping people who need it, I would rather cross dress on TV for no good reason than have the responsibility the President has.

Which TV show would you most likely appear on, Criminal Minds or House?

Although I am obsessed with serial killers, as in I want to know what makes them do what they do, which would make me a great profiler, it's still House. I mean, considering I have no acting chops that I know of and have been told I'm a medical anomaly in myself, I could go on there with no acting required. Since it's a TV show, I may be the one case House couldn't solve. Take that! And everyone thought I was going to say CM, too.

Who would you rather have as a sister, Jessica Simpson or Taylor Swift?

Although I love Jessica and would be honored to have her as a sister, I got so excited that I blurted out Taylor before I was supposed to, and then I started going over all the reasons why we would make good sisters. Like she's from Pennsylvania and likes music. Yep, that's all I got.

If you were forced to have an affair, would it be with Jimmy Kimmel, David Letterman, or Conan?

There was no good way to answer this, so I'll tell you my exact, drawn out explanation. I'm not and never have been attracted to gingers. Well, not the men at least. I think red haired women are gorgeous and I have envy, so quite frankly I'd rather go for a ginger women than man, but I'm not a lesbian so that's null and void. My grandma was consistently told she looked exactly like David Letterman's mom, which always made me feel like he's really my uncle and my grandma took that secret to her grave, so that's creepy. The only choice was Jimmy. Please don't ever force me to have an affair. Please world? I'll give you a chocolate pretzel for your consideration.

Who would you like as your real mom, Julia Roberts or Marg Helgenberger?

I guess I'm supposed to have a real mom. My mom apparently is fake. She explained this by saying if she wasn't my mom, who would I want. Marg all the way. What won her over for me are two things. One, if I look like that at her age I will be thanking every piece of the universe time and time again. Two, if I'm that cool at that age, ditto. What really won it for her was the interview where she said her son had a party and he made such a mess that she had to go get actual coroner's gloves from the set of CSI just to clean it up.

What body of water would you rather be, the Nile or the Amazon?

The Nile, because denial is not a river in Africa. Yep, I went there.

If your husband needed an operation or he would die, and your three kids were starving, could you sleep with Bill Clinton for one night for five million?

What makes this answer is either my stunning wit, or failed logic. I would say no, but only because I am repulsed by Bill, and if I could get him to offer me five million to sleep with me, I could probably get someone else to offer me far less, but enough to cover the bills, and maybe I wouldn't even be repulsed by them. And if worst came to worst, I would honestly get a job at a strip club where you could stay in your lingerie. Those girls pull in the dough. Yes, I would rather objectify myself for a few months to make ends meet than sleep with someone for money. That's exactly what I'm saying.

And on a side note, why is Bill Clinton offering me that much money to sleep with me? Where did we meet? How did he get my number? Was there no one else available? Has Monica moved on?

If you could take someone on a shopping spree, would it be Ellen Degeneres or Sharon Osbourne?

These are my two favorite women over fifty that I don't know, but it has to be Sharon. Her foul mouth, tell it like it is attitude makes it so. I think Ellen would let me buy whatever I wanted, where Sharon would tell me if I looked like Big Bird in a tutu. I need that.

Would you rather be a panda bear or a black leopard?

Look, I have a weakness for pandas and their cutsey wootsey little faces. If I had millions of dollars then I would move to China just so I could adopt as many as I could to try and help save them from extinction. And I would hug one and probably die, making the aforementioned helpful gesture moot.

Would you rather walk one mile in the snow or one mile in the sand?

This answer got me glazed over looks. The snow, because sand is nearly impossible to walk in for one mile unless you are dying and have no other choice, or extremely conditioned. Aunt Bev told me to pretend I was extremely conditioned.

Would you do a romantic comedy with Jim Carrey or Kevin James?

One day, several years ago, this guy at a craft festival exited a Porta-Potty. He proceeded to gallantly walk across the grass with three feet of toilet paper stuck to his shoe. When we pointed it out, he was a comedian about it. He looked exactly like Kevin James. So obviously Kevin James, because even though TP guy wasn't him, I will always think of Kevin when I think of TP guy and visa versa. This sounded more romantic in my head, and by more romantic, I mean not so at all.

Would you rather talk to an Alien or Bin Laden?

This answer is probably going to take more explaining than makes me sane. Of course, I've never been accused of being neat-nick sane, so we're good. I chose Bin Laden. I know, I know. There was no good answer to this. But I actually thought this one out using my own frightening logic.

One, I don't think it's weird for there to be life on other planets, just like I can't figure out why people are so stumped by Bigfoot. There's millions of species out there we don't know about. It just isn't weird to me. Other planets probably wonder if we're out here, and Bigfoot probably wonders if those stupid looking hairless things that walk kinda funny are real, too. Therefore, I have a deal with the aliens. I don't bother them if they don't bother me. I joke...at least I hope I joke. But seriously, if you're planning an otherworldly invitation here, can we make that deal? Please?

Another reason I say this is because we live in a military fly over zone, and more often than I'd like to talk about, there have been what looks to be a stereotypical flying saucer fly and hover around the land above us. You can watch them for a good ten minutes sometimes and they make no noise. Although I'm sure it's just the military testing their planes we don't know about, I'm not taking any chances.

Also, I am obsessed with wanting to know how serial killers' minds work. Although Bin Laden is technically a terrorist and not a serial killer, a serial killer is defined as someone who murders three or more people over a period of more than thirty days. (Reid moment!) Uh, check. So yeah, I'd want to interview him like that woman from the BAU interviewed Bundy. I ask ridiculous questions, so much like Sean Spencer on Psych, I could be his worst, perky nightmare. Take that! (And if you watch the show and caught why I spelled Shawn wrong, two points for you!)

If you could paint the Greensburg Courthouse, what color would it be?

Green...obviously, because a green Courthouse that sits atop a hill in a city called Greensburg is so ironically sarcastic that it mocks itself.

If you would gain weight, would you want to work out with Kirstie Alley or Marie Osmond?

My initial choice was Marie, but then I thought about it and realized that Kirstie is just so funny that I might not get any working out done, but I'd laugh so hard that I'd lose weight from that. Also, I could be a way better chubby buddy than Jim. The only problem is that I'm currently not chubby. No, body, this isn't me giving you an idea so I can work out with Kirstie.

If you were a stripper and you had to choose between two calls, would you go to Donny Osmond's or Lady Gaga's?

Donny's. Hands down. Can you imagine the fleeing and out casting by Mormon's all across Utah? And there's me, an innocent stripper, caught in the middle of what millions of Mormons head for the hills over. It's so right it's wrong. And I have nothing against Mormons. I'm just saying they don't like strippers, which is true. I'd just really like to see if enough of them got together over the whole hiring me as a stripper thing, if Donny would be kicked out of Utah, so of course I'd have to go there. I like debauchery. I'm not going to lie.

And then there's the little issue of me thinking Lady Gaga is clinically insane.

Who would you rather be twins with Anne Hathaway or Hilary Duff?

Hilary. I'm like a really lousy fifteen year old from ten years ago. Oh wait, ten years ago I was fifteen. Okay, we're good Although I think I would have a better chance as passing as Anne's twin, I just really like Hilary.

If you heard there were naked pictures of someone you thought was really hot online and you knew they'd never know, would you peak?

Look, guys, this isn't the weirdest question by far. I wouldn't. I couldn't. I don't want to see guys I know naked. Why would I want to see a guy I don't know naked? If i want to see anything, it's them shirtless, but they can keep their stuff to themselves. My mom and Aunt Bev, however, tsk, tsk.

You know how I said that wasn't the weirdest question? Here comes the winner.

My mom decided that she and Aunt Bev could ask me any question they wanted. Aunt Bev had no question, but I don't think anything was going to follow my mom's. She asked if I had a chance if I'd date Matthew Gray Gubler.

Come again?

Since this is a completely fictitious question where pigs would fly from phenomena that was not a tornado first, a snowball would survive a month in hell, and Hanna Montana would not have the best of both words, I said yes. He's hot, he's single, he's got a nice butt (Aunt Bev and I are butt people, and no, that doesn't sound right. I'm not changing it.), and he's completely hysterical, albeit being an odd little man. I like odd people, and he's not out singing to the aliens with a tin foil hat, so it's the right kind of odd.

And I just checked my Facebook again and one of my friends jokingly said she tried to convince him to be my present for my birthday. I should be worried about my friends, but I love them too much. I am, however, a little worried about me. I'm unsure of what I said to make someone think I wanted him for my birthday, but whatever it was, I'm okay with it.

All right, that's all for me kids. You're all probably thinking, that's all? That's all? This post is a freaking novel. But it's fine because I'm going to go and work on Dolls of the Night, and don't you try to stop me.

You're not going to stop me, are you?

Corporation Fail

My friend works at Wal-Mart. She recently revealed that Wal-Mart will no longer accept ER excuses as a reason why someone took a day off. Out of all the asinine things they've done, and there's a long, long list, this takes the cake. I don't know about you, but I think being in the ER is a good reason to not come to work.

So here's my question. (Get ready for the longest, most grammatically challenged run on sentence ever.)

What if you say goodbye to your 2.3 children and movie star gorgeous husband, and leave your house, passing your white picket fence, and getting into your ultra trendy gas efficient vehicle, drive to your lovely job at Wal-Mart, get out of the car, walk down Wal-Mart's sidewalk, and the next thing you know there is a crack, a large one, not a small one, so you fall. You tumble head over heels, tit over ass, if you will, smacking your head on the pavement and causing serious bleeding. Ten people pass you by before someone finally steps in your bloody mess and is forced to stop. They bend over your body and tell you they are calling 911. With all you have in you, you tell them, "please, no, I must go to work or I'll get fired." They call anyway, and the ambulance gets there just in time to pronounce you dead for exactly twenty seven seconds. They manage to bring you back to life, it's a miracle!, but they must take you to the hospital ER to stitch up your head, give you a blood transfusion and make sure you don't, you know, die. All of this is caught on the video cameras that hover ever so above the sidewalk. Then would Wal-Mart accept the ER excuse just to avoid a lawsuit, or would you still be fired for not showing up?

Just wondering.

Hair, The Non Musical

I think all my readers on here are women. Just in case, I would like to take the time to warn any guys out there that this post is a girlie post. I don't talk about that time of the month or anything, but I talk about hair. So if you don't want to hear it, I don't blame you and am giving you an out now.

And now that the boys are gone, let's talk about sex. No, no, just kidding. That wouldn't be my field of expertise.

I really do want to talk about hair. Yawn, I know, but we're girls. We like that stuff. For those of you who know me, you know that I should have been born a red head. I know there are no flukes of nature when it comes to how we were created, but I think I was really intended to be a red head and like everything else about me, my hair rebelled. I haven't forgiven it yet. I probably never will.

I have red head envy. Let's take a moment to talk about the people I specifically envy. I'll use celebrities, because if I say something like, "I envy my friend Becky 1 and want to steal her hair," you would have no idea who I was talking about. Unless you are Becky 1. In which case, HI!

The first red headed celebrity I envy is Alison Sudol, otherwise known as A Fine Frenzy. Not only is her hair beautiful, she is, too. Plus, she's super classy and has very cheeky personality and some amazing music. She's quite the talent. You should check her out.

The second celeb with red hair that I love is Hayley Williams. How can you not love Hayley Williams, first of all. And second, her hair is practically an icon in itself. When people think of Hayley, they immediately think of her red hair. It's her trademark look. Some people don't know who she is by name, but if you tell them she's in the band Paramore, they immediately know her as the red haired girl. She's uber talented and completely awesome. I love her attitude and her style. I even own some of the same Skeleanimals shirts that she does. It's totally not on purpose, though. I bought my shirts before she was seen in them.

Last, but certainly not least, we have Ashlee Simpson-Wentz. I loved her with dark hair, I loved her as a blonde, but red hair seems to fit her. It brings out her skin tone and goes right along with her fiery personality. If you don't know who she is, try Jessica Simpson's sister or Pete Wentz of Fall Out Boy's wife. I still can't believe those two got married, even though it's super cute, but that's not what this blog is about. It's about red hair. Her red hair. Isn't her red hair awesome?

So in the spirit of red hair, I shall regal you with a really stupid, somewhat pointless story. Hang in there, readers.

A few weeks ago I got a coupon for free hair dye with no purchase. I thought surely it was a joke or the stuff had to suck. Turns out it wasn't a joke and it was professional grade stuff from Sally Beauty Supply. Let's pretend like I never said this immediately after I do, but I am graying at twenty four. It started last year and a new piece of gray pops up here and there and thinks it's funny. It is, but it's not nice. My whole family grayed early. I've been dying to dye my hair, no pun intended, but as you all know, I'm completely broke with this whole not being allowed to work because my doctors said so thing. I took up the offer on free hair dye so I didn't have to look at the few pieces of gray anymore. They were annoying me.

Of course I picked red hair dye. Now, if it were up to me, I would have gone bright, loud, awesome red. Technically it was up to me, but I also knew I wouldn't have the money to dye it back to its natural color and I didn't want it to look like complete dog poo when it grew out. Therefore, I picked a color that matched my natural hair color, only added a red tone to it.

I finally got around to taking some pictures of it today. They're not great and I'm not wearing any makeup, so you know, ignore my face or something. No, just kidding. I'm totally comfortable without makeup. I barely wear it. I figure it this way, if I'm ugly, I'm ugly. Makeup isn't going to help. However, as soon as I have a day I am going to do some more professional pictures. Not only because my hair color has changed, but my hair has really grown out since I did the last set and I like to keep them current. Oh, and by professional, I totally mean get dolled up and set my camera on a timer. Yep, keeping it classy here, folks.

The first and second pictures represent my hair color the best. Pictures are tricky. The color in them never comes out quite the same as it looks in real life. And yes, I'm totally aware my pants don't match my shirt in the first picture. I'm pointing it out merely to ask you to ignore it. Don't you love cliches?

I decided to put my hair against a white shirt so you could see the true color.

This is my sassy red hair. Sassing it up apparently strips some of the red out of it because it makes it look thicker and more dense, but that's okay.

For the last picture I tried to cheaply recreate this pose. I didn't have the same jacket so I used red one. And I did it pretty damn cheaply. In retrospect, putting red hair against a red jacket really only makes your hair look brown, but I decided to show you how crappy it came out anyway. (She's far more classy than I am.) I think I'll try this pose again when I do the professional pictures and am not in a hurry to snap a few pictures to show all of you. I think I can do this pose justice if I have time and a better background.

Ahaha! My redo sucks. Anywho...

On a totally unrelated note, I would also like to extend my prayers and best wishes to Demi Lovato and her family. I think a lot of people are really going to say a lot of shit about her and it's unfair. She's eighteen. She's been with Disney for a few years now and is doing work that most adults can't handle. She's doing the best that she can. She realized she had some problems and she sought out help for them. Instead of criticizing her, people should be applauding her for rightfully getting the help she needs. I hope she makes a full recovery and comes back and shows everyone that she is strong enough to make it through anything.

I think people who admit their problems and successfully get help should be our role models. Not these false saviors who are on drugs, who act out and who generally don't care. But they have a persona that, for some reason, people fall in love with. Whatever they do is okay, but a girl admitting a problem is not. There's certain celebrities who give rehab a bad name, but for a lot of people it's a way to restart their lives. They go in willingly, wanting and are ready for the help and they succeed. Here's to Demi succeeding!

Cassadee Gives Bad Advice

I don't know how many of you have ever tried using Craigslist to sell something. Let me just give you a piece of advice. If you ever, even for a minute, consider posting something on Craigslist because you need the money, just smack yourself over your head until it seems like a bad idea again. Because I know the initial thought that comes to mind when you think of posting something on Craigslist is that it's not a spiffy idea. Go back to that, my friends. Go back to that.

Those of you who have been reading for awhile know that I've had my share of stupidity with Craigslist. I promised myself I would never torture myself by posting anything else on there again. Then today happened.

I have no money. Being forbidden by doctors to work for three years will do that to you. And, as you all know, Christmas is coming up. I was going to help my old boss hook up his wireless printer. Since I am crafting all of my presents this year, I don't need a lot of money and what he would have paid me would have done it. However, he went and figured it out himself. Don't get me wrong, I am happy for him. He's a fifty something Polish guy who struggles with English after twenty five years in this country. I'm glad he's got his tech on. But now I have to figure out what to do to get a little bit of money to buy the small amount of supplies I need. Enter Craigslist.

I put up a dress, some Hallmark collectible ornaments and a Twilight poster, thinking at least one thing would sell and I would have enough money to not have to bother with attempting to sell the rest of the stuff. I just needed one thing to sell. On top of that, I also put a Real Estate Exam Prep Book up for my mom. It's been less than eight hours, and let me explain the fun I've had so far.

First, I got an email about the dress. What I've learned from posting on Craigslist before is that you can usually tell exactly how things are going to go based on an email. This email wasn't so bad. It simply said "Picture please. Thanks." No questions, nothing. I knew the person was just a gawker. I haven't heard back from them; they responded almost immediately after posting, so if they were truly interested I should have. Judging by the email address, it was a young, curious girl. However, I could be wrong. This didn't annoy me so much except I had to iron the dress for the pictures and wasn't in the mood. That was my own fault. This person may still get back to me. I won't hold my breath, though.

The second email brought the fun. I have my location posted, naturally. The town I live in is little known, so I put the known city closest to where I live. I also plan on meeting someone, because having someone who emailed you on Craigslist know where you live just seems like a horrible, awful idea of epic proportions. Naturally, this had to go wrong somewhere.

I received an email with this. "Location?" Only it actually had the name of said location, and that's all it said. Readers, I was stumped. I didn't even know how to answer that. I assumed the person didn't know where that was, so I put the next closest known city where I'd be willing to meet them. But seriously, how do you even go about explaining that to someone when that's all they put. I have not an inkling of a clue where they are coming from to even tell them what direction to head in, or where it would be for them. And besides that, correct me if I'm wrong but you can put your city into Google Maps, along with another city, and it will give you not only directions, but the approximated amount of time it takes to get there. I do it all the time. Wouldn't common sense dictate you do that, or at least tell the person the general area you're coming from so they have a snowball's chance in hell of directing you toward the area or giving you some idea where it is? Ah, people.

But, my friends, it gets better. Oh yes, better. And by better, I mean worse. I got a response to the ad for my mom's book. Here is the headline of the ad, word for word, minus the city.

Pennsylvania Real Estate Exam Prep Book - $12

Naturally, I got this email, also word for word.

is it fir real estate agent exam? thanks

That was a copy and paste, folks. And no, I can't make this shit up.