You Will Be Remembered

Today would have been my grandma's 84th birthday had Scleroderma not taken her. For those of you who don't know me well, you don't know that my grandparents had an extremely large hand in raising me. My mom was a single mom going to school full time to try and make a better life for us, so most of those first outings and first times after the age of two or three were with my grandparents. Cancer took my grandfather eleven years ago, though sometimes it seems like just yesterday.

My grandma was a strong woman. She wasn't ready to pass when she did, but Scleroderma ruined her heart, destroying the right side completely.  Her body just couldn't hold up any longer, though her mind was strong. She passed suddenly in the winter of 2009. Though we knew her time was coming, we had gotten a call one morning that they had found her in her apartment still breathing, but she was gone before she reached the hospital. 

She was more than a grandma to me. She was a confidante, a best friend, and a lot of times she played the roll of mom. Not a day goes by that I still don't think of her and miss her. Last year I wasn't strong enough to post a tribute to her, and this year I'm crying the whole way through it, but I want her to know that she will be remembered.

 

 This week has been particularly hard, not just because of what today signified, but because our beloved kitty Lila also passed on Tuesday. We had, had her so long that we couldn't even remember when we got her. She was an older kitty, but also in good health, until one day she wasn't, and the next, it seemed, she was gone. Pets are truly part of the family and it's been hard getting through this week without her little meows and leg hugs around every corner.

   I know I owe some of you comments on your blogs, and I thank you all for the comments on mine. I promise I am getting there. Please bear with me until a few wounds start to heal. I'm going through some other things involving my gift and in general am having a trying time this week.

Emails From Aunt Bev

Last night, Aunt Bev and I were having a conversation via email. At some point, she casually dropped a line saying that the computer insinuated that she was stupid. One thing led to another, and I got these words back from her.


WTF!!!!!!! Smart Ass Computer!!!!!  Settle down, Bev and go to bed. I won't be able the sleep now I'm so furious.

That's right, inanimate objects really can make you that angry. We now have proof.

Shut Up, Self!

I know I owe you all part two of the plumbing story, but let me just fill you in on the last week of my life. Or, as I like to call it, proof that I need to shut my mouth.

As you all know, I'm a psychic medium. If you don't know that, you're probably new here, and in that case, HI! Welcome. Look around, stay awhile, do a little dance, whatever. This little glitch in my hardware makes my life hectic as it is. Usually I shush up about it in person so that I don't end up running myself in ragged circles trying to help everyone and their mother, brother and sister. I get enough emails about this sort of thing and have enough lined up as it is that I don't need more things. With this in mind, I was clearly wearing my dunce cap last week.

The week started out with my friend having a case involving an ancient Indian creature bothering her sibling who was living on what was once land where Indians were massacred. It skipped right into the same friend having issues of the not so holy kind in her own home. So I had that to deal with going into the week anyway, and that just happened and was no one's fault. The rest was all my fault, so I should have quit the week with the paranormal while I was ahead. It was only Monday. We knew I was going to fall behind somehow.

I was doing good all day Tuesday and was still ahead, then Wednesday rolled around. I had to go to a dinner with the awesome Aunt Bev, so we decided while we were down that way that we were going to stop in the Historical Society and do some research on her parents' house, which has had all sorts of issues ever since Aunt Bev can remember. This was going lovely until the lady who worked there told me about a lady who had come in a day prior to research a property for paranormal reasons and how strange she thought that was that two people came in for that reason two days in a row. Then I realized it was my friend who had come in and that was all my fault, too.

When I feel like something is my fault, even if it's something odd, I start ranting. This is when someone needs to get a piece of tape like they do in those NoH8 photos and tape over my mouth. One way or another we got to talking about an old town here, the one where they had the really awesome reenactments of court cases from the late 1700s. One thing led to another and I ended up telling the lady from the Historical Society that I had felt someone watching over the one house there, someone with a hat, to which she laughed and said that was so funny because the former caretaker had died in the last few years and another medium had told them he was watching over the place. She turned me around and showed me a picture of him. He was wearing a hat. He always wore it.

This should be the part where everyone goes, "Oh, neat. Oh, nice." Don't do that, though, because the next thing I knew I was telling the lady that I can see the old town how it used to be in the 1700s with my psychic site, she was gleefully telling me that they had been trying to reconstruct the town to how it used to be but knew no one who could help them do it, and I was writing my name and number down on a piece of paper. The lady who is in charge of the town is calling me when she gets home from vacation at the end of the week. And I was assured that if I do a good job that they could use me for a lot of things. I'm going to just hold my applause.

If that didn't give me enough to do outside of my hours upon hours of emails and consultations with the paranormal a week, my mouth continued to make things worse for me. Friday, we decided to visit an old castle about a half an hour from here. I went prepared for spirits, because the original structure that still existed within the larger structure was built in the 1700s. Before that, there was a war waged on that land. As it turned out, that building wasn't my problem whatsoever.

With the town in disrepair, we struggled to find a place to eat there, and when we get hungry, you better get us to somewhere with food before you start looking tasty and we attempt to steal your lunch. It's a Mom, Aunt Bev and myself ism. We like food. There were rows and rows of buildings; a whole town's worth, but all were vacant and empty. Following signs and a tip, we drove a little ways outside of town to a super amazing old mansion that had a restaurant inside. I fell in love with the town, or lack there of, instantly, and was sucked into this house. It was so warm and friendly, and although it was clear spirits were there, it was a gathering place in life, as it was in death. There was nothing vicious, just a warm feeling that made me want to live in that house. I was sucked in.

While we were waiting for our food, the woman serving us let us wander around the entire house, which was to become a bed and breakfast, since we were the only ones there. This just enchanted me more. When we were done with the meal, she took us downstairs to show us the basement that used to be a pool, but was now turned into a tavern. I had kept my mouth shut about the spirits until one walked right past me. I got in a silent argument with my mouth in a sad and sorry attempt to get it shut, but it didn't work very well, and before I knew it I was asking the server if there had been any paranormal experiences in the house. Her exact words were, "Funny you should ask that..."

Also before I knew it, we had identified the man I saw by her showing me a picture and me saying, "Yes, that's him," and she was taking my name and number because the owners would love to talk to me about this. We were getting ready to leave when the owners just magically popped up, and just like that an hour and a half went by. In that hour and a half I learned that real alligators were kept in the basement, the woman whose husband built the house and had passed really hated one of their patrons, and the man who built the house and had passed really hated the whiskey they served since in life he made whiskey, but it was no longer available for sale. I also bored my mom and Aunt Bev and made the one owner miss an appointment. He was awfully cheery about missing that appointment though.

I'm going back this coming Monday to go through the house and tell them everything I am feeling and help them make the house a place where the spirits still want to be. They're awesome and understand that this isn't their house, they are just taking care of it. They welcome the spirits, as long as they're nice, and that house is filled with nothing but nice. They just want to make the spirits proud of what they're doing there, and since they're having weddings there, the original owner's wife couldn't be happier. I'm actually super excited about doing this, and I hope that the owners will let me come back from time to time. I loved them, I loved the house, and this is what I love to do. And hey, they even offered me free food. I don't charge for my services, but I will ALWAYS take free food.

I didn't even make it one more day before I opened my huge mouth again. Surprising, I know. On Saturday we were having a yard sale. Now, for those of you who don't know this about me, I'm convinced that yard sales spawned around the same time that Lucifer fell from Heaven. I just don't like them. So as the day is reining down on us and we have been sitting there for what felt like eight weeks, but was really more like five hours, we started to wonder if we were going to sell anything else or have to drag it back home. Just then, a woman in a red truck became our savior, and made me open my big mouth again.

Turns out, this lady was from a missing children's foundation in the local area, but they work nation wide. They were looking for any items we didn't want that they could sell to help fund the organization. I gave them everything I had left. In my line of work, I see a lot of kids go off the grid because the police run out of leads or their hands are tied, and this is where this organization picks up. This is something close to my heart, especially with my spirits that come through on a regular basis. A lot of them are lost souls because their bodies have never been found, and I have no idea how to approach the police about these girls without looking uber fishy. Being as people think I'm about seventeen anyway, fishy was not what I needed.

So, and I say it again, before I knew it I was telling this poor woman about my gift and dishing out my name and phone number. I was also telling her all about this one young girl that went missing locally of whose family I've been wanting to contact but didn't know how, and asked her if they could work on getting me in touch with the family or if they would help me follow up what I knew about the case. Ever since this girl went missing, I've wanted to bring her home so badly, no matter what capacity that may be in. I'm still waiting for a response.

The guy who runs the organization might think I'm nuts, but I hope he doesn't, because the lady all kinds of loved me. She assured me he would be in contact with me, and I hope is. I know I can be of help here, and I take responsibility for anything that happens on information I give, good or bad. I'm willing to be as hands on as I need to be with this. If he does decide to work with me, I have a feeling I'm going to be insanely busy like no one's business, and I hate dealing with families, because I never want to see anyone hurt. I can't imagine the kind of toll this will take emotionally, but if we can bring some kids home, that's all that matters. Sometimes they don't come home in the way that you want them to, but at least the families will never have to wonder any longer where their child is, and that's always been something I've wanted to be able to achieve with my gift. This could also open a lot of doors for me to get some credentials and be able to go to the police about some of my spirits without them thinking I'm all fishy and such. I help the dead, and if this can open up a door for a better way for me to do that, that's all that's important.

Let's pair this with the fact that I have LMCP and her person to tend to on a nearly constant basis. That situation is so messed up. I have a feeling sleep is going to turn into a luxury, and I'll never have to leave my couch except for a few times here and there and still end up entirely busy. Too bad this job doesn't pay, but I'd never, ever charge someone for something that came to me for free. So wish me luck, you guys, and pray that I keep my mouth shut more often...or something.

Guest Blogger: Please Welcome Zoe!

Tonight I am going to do something totally different with the blog and present to you a very special guest blogger. You all may know Zoe from the comment section of this blog, as well as me linking you all back to her blog before. Not only is Zoe an avid reader and commenter of this blog, but she is also a fantastically wonderful person, good friend, and spectacular writer. You should all follow her blog and follow her on Twitter so that you can say you knew her before she was famous, because this girl is going to be HUGE. Not that I'm trying to tell you what to do...

A few days ago, Zoe and I were having a lovely conversation in which I confused her a bunch of times. I'm sorry, Zoe. Somehow in that conversation, I ended up reading a piece from her blog, and asking her if it would be alright if she would be a guest blogger and share that post on my blog as well. Luckily, she graciously agreed.

There are so many amazing things about this amazingly talented girl, and this piece shows every bit of who she is and what she stands for. If you stand for nothing, you'll fall for anything, and she's not the kind of girl who is about to go down without a fight. Plus, she loves Taylor Swift, so where can you go wrong? She brings awareness to something that has been in the media lately, but passed off by many: Cyberbullying. So, please, everyone give a huge round of applause for Zoe and remember to check out her blog and twitter.

I read some pretty disheartening and quite honestly horrific attitudes regarding cyberbullying today. Someone said that cyberbullying is a load of crap because you can always turn off the computer and go elsewhere. I am gathering, from what I hear and read, that this is the opinion of a few people. Yet those people I can tell have never experienced the horrors of being bullied online. Yes, you can ignore it. It takes a great skill to be able to move on and laugh off people harassing you, but once you get a hold of it, it's easy to master. But you cannot always pretend it does not exist. The opinion I read clearly lacks a huge misconception; what if the cyberbullying follows you to school? Then, are you capable of ignoring the comments, turning off your computer and going to hang out with friends like everything is okay? You can't. If those people are joining in the harassment and it continues off the computer you can't just smash down the lid or turn the off button on the monitor and ignore it. It eats you up inside. The longer it continues, the more the comments and the name calling persists, the more you come to believe it. How do you think babies learn? They see the repetition of adults speaking to them, encouraging them, and they adapt and believe and repeat themselves. It is exactly the same when it comes to bullying. The victims learn that the things they are labelled as are true. They come to believe everything the bullies say about them. When so many people constantly throw names and belittle them without relenting, they have nothing else to do but to consider that perhaps, if so many people are saying it, then it must be true.

People like the ones I encountered are entitled to their own opinions. But the only thought that went through my mind was how little they know of the truth. They can say "grow the fuck up and move on" all they like, but that is never the solution, and I can tell they have never been through the experience themselves. How could they say things like that if they had? They cannot understand the feeling of being completely and utterly alone, of feeling like you are the only person in the world going through this kind of pain. They cannot understand how so much builds up and cyberbullying is just the tip of the iceberg. I can't look at my old tumblr account because of how much hate I am getting on there, and that severely hurt me. Those grey faces didn't know who I was, and they had no courage to come out and say it to my face. The vicious comments left by others to put me down reaffirmed my thoughts that I was not an important person. You cannot tell people to grow up and move on unless you have been involved in the attacks. Unless you have experienced the heartbreak over feeling that everyone is against you, that people who do not know you hate you without any justification for it. Calling someone ridiculous for killing themselves over vicious bullying online is completely out of order. I know how it is to feel utterly alone. I know what it feels like to be scared to talk to anybody. I know what it feels like when everyone turns on you, both online and offline.

Another comment I read said that turning off the computer, deleting the messages, ignoring the website all together, these were all solutions that were “not that fucking difficult”. I felt sick when I read that. Did they understand what exactly goes through the victims mind at that point? Did they not realise that as soon as one person has seen the message, there is every possibility that the message would have been print-screened, sent across to everyone in messages berating their chosen victim? If someone else posts a comment about them, and that person is considerably more ‘popular’ than the victim, who do you think people are going to believe? The victim has no chance to properly defend themselves in these situations. And people telling them to “grow up” and “move the fuck on”, that’s almost as bad as what the bullies are doing. The victim doesn’t want to hear anything that seems remotely harsh. They want to be comforted. They want to be reassured. They need their friends to stick by them. When all your friends turn on you, it can get so much worse.

A lot of these comments seemed to centre on the ABC movie, “Cyberbully”. Many labelled it as a copy of “Odd Girl Out”, but “Cyberbully” actually modernized and brought the issue to the forefront of people’s minds, focusing strongly on the bullying that occurs on the internet, and particularly social networking sites. In fact, a large quantity of the people bashing this movie shared the opinion that bullying online is not an issue because nobody forces people to endure the internet; they can turn it off. They can delete things and report them, and it’s online so it’s not real—they can ignore it. Allow me to direct you to this page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_of_Megan_Meier. Megan Meier was bullied online, mostly through MySpace. Not long after setting up her account, she received a message from ‘Josh’, though the actual perpetrator was her former friend’s mother, Lori Drew. Several people, mostly Lori, contributed to running the account. They would gain her trust and get information about her, personal information, to use against her because Megan had allegedly spread rumours about Lori’s daughter. Then the messages changed from being kind, to being insulting and cruel. ‘Josh’ told Megan she was not a nice person, and he didn’t want to be friends with her anymore. Several people posted bullitens about Megan saying that the world would be a better place without her. Later messages were sent through AIM, and Megan was found twenty minutes after, having hung herself. Now. Would you call that bullying ridiculous? Could you so easily say that she was stupid, and should have deleted the comments and not let it bother her? The bullying spread to the outside world. It did not just stay online. People in her school and the town began to turn on her. Imagine, just put yourself in her shoes, in the shoes of people everywhere around the world who experience this kind of bullying. It’s never easy to deal with and nobody deserves it. I am thouroughly sickened by people who have the attitude that bullying online doesn’t have a basis in ‘real life’. Comments like that stay with you for a long time. When people who you thought were your friends turn on you, you feel like you are the only person in the world going through this. You have no one to turn to.

I honestly think people need to reconsider the effects of online bullying. People who make comments like that will never understand unless it has happened to them or someone close to them. But it happens. The internet is the world of this generation; kids spend hours online. It’s like a whole other world to them. So yes, words hurt, regardless of how they are said or where they are said. If someone starts spreading ugly rumours about you and they do not even know who you are, you are going to be offended. When people gang up on you just because the ‘queen bee’ decided you were her next target. I want to direct you to this book: http://www.amazon.com/Odd-Girl-Out-Culture-Aggression/dp/0156027348. Rachel Simmons’ book does not focus on cyberbullying, but it helps to understand why girls in particular bully one another. As she says, “There is a hidden culture of girls’ aggression in which bullying is epidemic, distinctive, and destructive. It is not marked by the direct physical and verbal behaviour that is primarily the province of boys. Our culture refuses girls access to open conflict, and it forces their aggression into non-physical, indirect, and covert forms. Girls use backbiting, exclusion, rumours, name-calling, and manipulation to inflict psychological pain on targeted victims. Unlike boys, who tend to bully acquaintances or strangers, girls frequently attack within tightly knit networks of friends, making aggression harder to identify and intensifying the damage to the victims.” By no means was she, and by no means am I, saying that all girls do this. They don’t. But the evidence that it happens in undeniable. That book helped me to understand why girls bullied me, to an extent. I understood why girls bully one another, and I learned how to get over it. With my recent experience being bullied through the site Tumblr, I was fortunate enough to know how to deal with it. I may have left the account and made a new one, but I did not let it affect me emotionally offline. I was comforted by the knowledge that they did not know who I was, that they were too frightened to come off anon and say these things to my face. I had been through enough years being bullied that I could ignore it and pretend as if it didn’t really bother me. I may have shed a tear or two at their expense, but that was it.

Many people are not as fortunate. Your closest friend may be being bullied and you could have no idea. I’m not saying you should act like a spy. I’m saying that those people who make these claims that cyberbullying is ridiculous should approach the subject with a more open-mind, and a gentler attitude. You may go through your whole life without being bullied; it is entirely possible. But look at what it does to people. Just because you break down and cry over comments online does not make you emotionally unstable. You will never be prepared for it. You will never expect it. You do not think that it can happen to you, and you can say “shut the fuck up and move on” all you like, but when it does happen to you, a part of you will understand what goes through the minds of other people and maybe, just maybe, you will regret the things you said. Once more, I am not saying it will happen to you. I am saying that sometimes you have to go through something to understand it. Cyberbullying is one of those things that is so easy to ignore because it has a very simple solution. In reality, it is never simple. Words hurt.

Perhaps cyberbullying doesn’t feel real to some people because it is not physical. It’s not direct bullying in the flesh, therefore it is easy to ignore and pass judgements. But cyberbullying is an issue people need to take more seriously. Know that your words hurt people online. If you say something cruel, start spreading rumours, and more people surround the victim, they are going to be hurt. They are going to feel excluded, alone, depressed, maybe even suicidal. If they feel too ashamed to tell their parents, their mind is going to come up with a thousand scenarios to make everything disappear. In Megan’s case, this was suicide. In the case of many others, their escape was suicide, through bullying online.

If this is happening to you, I implore you to speak up. Tell someone. Anyone. There is even a website, CyberMentors, completely free to register and highly confidential. There are helplines who never mind listening to you. There are groups you can go to. If you are too frightened to tell your parents, write something down on paper. Leave it on your teacher’s desk. Give it to someone, an adult, who you find it easy to talk to. Rachel Simmons’ website gives you the opportunity to email her. You can contact me, if you want to. I don’t mind. I will listen, and I will try my best to help. 
http://mymindgoesfast.blogspot.com/ On my profile you can find my email. Nobody should be without help for this. What you are going through, if at all, is wrong. It hurts and it is very, very real. There are many other people who will gladly be there to listen. Just be brave, brave enough to click that send or request button. Brave enough to write that letter and leave it with someone you know can help. And as for everyone who thinks this is not an issue, I have this to say: please, open up your minds a little. Take a good look at what really happens online. Understand how these words hurt people. Acknowledge that turning off the computer is not always the best solution. Try to put yourself in a position similar to theirs. It’s not something that can easily be ignored.

A Full On Rainstorm

First off, I just want to thank everyone for sticking things out with me while I neglected my blog like it was a really horrible two cent whore. I also want to thank you all for putting up with me saying things like "two cent whore" and still coming back to me read my blog. Seriously, you all are either the most wonderful people in the world, or just a tad crazy. I hope it's a mix of both.

Now, allow me to take you back three weeks to this post. If you all will reminisce with me, you will remember that this post was just a lead in to the week that was endured between that Friday and the following one. I really meant to make the post following that one about the insane week I had, but then the things mentioned in the post directly previous to this took place, and I lost my shiz, my sanity, and my ability to even consider caring about putting the craziness into a blog. Luckily, I did regal my story of craziness to a friend of mine and saved the transcript. Therefore, you all will be reliving the insanity in technicolor along with me.

But before I even get into that debauchery, I want to say a few words about the last post. A lot of you ask me why I post my experiences such as that, and others aren't happy that I do, feeling as if I'm going to stir up more paranormal activity by doing so. I am careful about what I post, change names, and do not give specific details linking back to that person or spirit as to make sure that I do NOT stir up any more activity with my posts or give anything supernatural more power. I also don't post a lot of details for the same reason. I would never post something that is going to exacerbate activity for myself or anyone else involved in the case, if there do happen to be more people other than myself involved.

As for why I do it, one of the most common inquiries I get are from people who either have some sort of sensitivity, always knew, and are trying to figure out their experiences, or just people who have had a few isolated experiences, sometimes even just one, and are left feeling as if they need to take the first train to Crazy Town. I have had a lot of bizarre, yet finite experiences. I've questioned my own sanity. At the end of the day, though, the experiences are what they are. I post my experiences so that other people can know that this stuff DOES happen in the spirit world and that they are NOT crazy. Recently, a good friend of mine came to me with a situation very similar on the emotional side, plus similar in the experiences they were having, to the one I posted about last night. We talked things through, and that person is dealing with it as best as they can. I hope that I have helped that person in knowing that the experiences they're having are common, and I am here for them to talk things out and sound crazy to, because they're not crazy.

There's a lot of things that people like myself don't want to talk about it, and unfortunately one of those things is the truth. It's the pure facts of what really happens when you were born with this gift, and the things that make them sound crazy that they want to leave out, because they still want to obtain some sense of normality in their daily lives. I gave up on that a long time ago, so I'm not afraid to put it out there. As I said before, I am careful about what I put on here, but being a psychic medium, I know what to say and not to say to keep from stirring up energy or making things worse. But at the end of the day, this is still my sacred place. It started out as a little place that only I wrote to and no one read, and turned into a place to share thoughts with friends. Ultimately, I will post what I decide is appropriate for said blog, but I would also never give away personal details or anyone's information. I even change names to keep people anonymous, and that's AFTER I ask that person if I can write about them. I will continue to be open and honest with you guys, but make sure that there's some things that I may post for nothing by my own want, and appreciate when you read them and comment anyway. I love all of you.

Lastly, and before I lose you all to a nap, I also realized that in my own emotions and jumble that made up the last blog, a lot of people missed the point of it. I admit that was my fault. I can be a corny little creature when I start angry typing. The point of the last blog was not so much to tell you about what was going on in my life, but more to give you a glimpse into a situation of an innocent person who is deeply troubled by things that are not their fault. I never feel much for the living who revolve around my spirits, but this person seems to be the only exception. This is someone who really could use any extra prayers you may have lying around, and that was the message I was trying to get across. I'm sorry that it did not come out that way, but if you have a few extra prayers, please pray for this person. He will never know you're doing it, but he could really use a few extra prayers right about now. 

With that little P.S.A. out of the way, I feel I can now bring you guys into a whole new world of insanity. And by insanity, I mean the week that occurred post the post I linked you all back to earlier in this blog. Confused yet? Just wait. And because of all this insanity, this is post one of two. That's right, it's going to take yet another post after this one to tell you about all the insanity that occurred during one simple week. This post is just going to deal with one singular day.

The week started out well enough. I had an appointment, and since no one really particularly likes appointments of any kind where they're shelling out money, naturally, this was the day when wonky rocketed its way straight into my little world and planted itself here with plans and tricks up its sleeve. The morning started out well enough. I got up, got ready, just made it out the door, hit every green light there and made it there before anyone else. Don't cheer yet. From there I went to Target, used some coupons, then went to Wal-Mart and finished my grocery shopping also with coupons, sliding into home base before 11:30 in the morning. It was going to be my lucky day. Go ahead, laugh. We all know all good lies start out disguised as lucky days.

I happily brought all of my groceries to the house and started putting them away, most likely be-bopping to some Taylor Swift song I was singing aloud. As I stopped to take a humungous breath for my big finish, I noticed our water heater making a strange sound. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a bit suspicious about this, especially considering that our hot water heater had appeared to die two days prior, leaving us the only people who were glad for the ninety degree weather when we had to get a freezing cold shower. With all the squeaking and gurgling our water heater was emitting, I was afraid it was turning into some zombie that was going to eat me while I slept. Luckily, it wasn't nighttime anytime soon, but unluckily, I was the only one home and unfamiliar with whom the water heater version of Ghost Busters was. So naturally, I texted my mom.

Also naturally, my mom was befuddled. Afraid that if I tried to mess with it, it was going to end me and my remains would never be found, I decided it's better just to let the angry water heater go until a professional can look at it. And by a professional, I mean my mom. This was a spiffy plan, except that while I was on the phone with her, I was washing out some dog bowls and accidentally, out of habit, turned on the hot water, even though I knew we didn't have any. I happened to catch this mistake right away when the water burned my hand. Oh, you find it odd too that we've spent two days with absolutely no hot water and suddenly our water heater begins to morph into a zombie and our hot water is back without not one person touching the water heater? I can't imagine why.

Since I didn't know what in the heck was going on and didn't want to argue with the hot water heater that was now giving me hot water, nor become a casualty of it since it wasn't too far fetched to think it was a zombie, I decided to move on with my day. I had enough paranormal emails to keep an OCD person busy for the next month, so I decided I would start digging myself out of the hole they had put me in when they all arrived in my inbox and spazzed it out. You think this would be simple, but no. This, too, is a story within a story.

Much like the water heater had an existing problem, it was the same with the internet. The previous day, I had a few issues with my internet. I was able to stay on for about an hour before it would crash out on me and I had to reset everything to get it going again. Eventually, I gave up trying to be on it for the day, but then got on later that night with not a problem. I thought whatever was going on was just a glitch and had corrected itself, but that's not my life. The same thing started happening all over again, only I wasn't even getting an hour of the internet this time before it crashed. Then, finally, it just wouldn't come back up at all no matter what I did. I was internetless in Pennsylvania, and it didn't feel so good.

Left with no other options other than the understandable suicide to save myself from what I inevitably had to do in order to get my internet back, I chose to be strong and call Verizon. This is usually a debacle in which I get someone who I can't understand and tells me their name is Suzy, when their name is really Oshimisa Hosomo. Look, I like Oshimisa, I really do, but I just can't understand Oshimisa, which is always problematic when trying to fix things over the phone. I would have gotten into an online chat, but you can see how that would have gone with no internet.

I went in expecting the worst and ended up getting schooled. Apparently angels work at Verizon and I just happened to come across one that day. Very patiently, this angel of a man listened to me when I told him how I had reset everything, realized he didn't have to take me through all those steps again, avoided it, and went right into testing the line and found that the jack was bad. He skipped all the unnecessary, just do it to amuse me crap, and cut straight to the chase. I took the modem into another room and to another jack and I was back in business. Then, when that was done, I slyly asked him if my neighbors hacking into my internet could have anything to do with the way my internet was being reset, to which he told me yes and proceeded to fix my internet so that it ran on a password that, once saved, was changed to algorithms. Since it's impossible to hack and algorithms, the neighbors would no longer be able to hack any of my passwords and slide their way into my net. I nearly jumped through the phone and proposed to this man before hanging up with him. You would think it was my lucky day again, but no.

Now that I was off my phone, it was time to move and set up my wireless internet in the other room that was with a working jack. It didn't matter what room the modem and wireless airport were in, because we'd be running off the wireless. Easy peasy. Except, as it so turned out, my mom's computer was so old that it was without wireless internet capabilities. Previously, it had been hooked straight into the modem, because I had been too lazy to set it up for wireless. It didn't matter, though, because my mom has a desktop of which sat directly next to the modem, so it wasn't really an issue, nor did she have a need for wireless internet. But now she did and didn't have it. We were going to have to buy a wireless internet card and pray that I could figure out how to install it, or somehow find a way to move her computer, along with a metal desk that weighed more than I actually think we would be capable of moving, into a room where she didn't want to be.

I completely panicked, wracking my brain to come up with some solution to this. After about an hour, I realized I was just dumb, so dumb, in fact, that I needed Antoine Dodson to come sing to me about it. He never did show up. What showed up in his place was my brain. My mom worked for Verizon for seventeen years. She knew how to change a jack, therefore, she could simply change the one that was bad out and I could set everything up just the same as it was. I felt extremely stupid over this and decided that I should probably never be allowed in public alone, though people always seemed to think it is alright if I were. Silly people.

Since things seemed to be looking up and back on track, I got back online to continue answering the emails I had started out answering before this entire debacle took place. This was all well and good until my email wouldn't send anything. Nothing. Nada. My internet worked, but my email was PMSing. Over two hours went into trying to figure out what was going on, only to find out that Verizon-Yahoo changed some policy about their porting through Mac mail and I had to reset all the ports in order to get my email to send. Clearly it was too hard for them to send out an email outlining this because they probably have secret cameras set up in their customers' homes and just laugh when this stuff happens to people. Bastards.

After this was all sorted out, I figured that the day really couldn't get more crazy and that I had earned a bathroom break. This was clearly a lie, because as soon as I went back in my bathroom, I heard the sound of water running. No, I wasn't me going to the bathroom. Don't be funny. I have no idea what made me do this, but I lifted up the vent in my bathroom only to find it filled with water. This led me on the epic quest to find what other vents were filled with water. Turns out it was only the one in my bathroom and the one in my mom's, however, the curious whooshing sound seemed to be coming from the laundry area in our kitchen and right next to the water heater.

Let's just stop and take inventory of this situation for a second. First we had no hot water for two days. Now we have hot water suddenly, but our water heater has presumably turned into a zombie and there is the sound of water pouring out of somewhere, and it's obviously going in our vents. Obviously it was time to call in a plumber, which we did, but since it was already almost five, there was no way someone could get there immediately. And you would think this was the worst of the problems this insane day could throw at us, yeah? Wrong again!

As we're minding our own business and I'm sweeping the floor, the vacuum suddenly just stops running. I go over to the outlet thinking that the plug just pulled out, but then I realize the air conditioner is out, too. As I begin checking out the outlets like a detective, I realize that our main outlet that holds all the important things in the living room, such as our television and satellite box, was also not working. Our porch light was also out. I tried everything to figure this out, including messing with the electrical box, but since I'm so obviously not an electrician, I was not so surprisingly stumped by this.

Flabbergasted and defeated, we came to the conclusion that since the one outlet had been acting a little confused the day before, that it probably just went bad, and since the other outlets were on the same connection as it, it probably knocked them out, too. And then I went into my mom's room and her fan wasn't working suddenly. And, you guessed it, this is when I realized that the outlets in her room, as well as my closet light were not working. The living room, where the first offending outlet started all the problems, and my mom's bedroom were on two different sides of the house. At one last ditch attempt at confusion, my mom decided to play with the electrical box. Everything turned back on. I guess it just hated me.

So that was my day. And keep in mind that this all happened within twelve hours. And if that wasn't good enough for you, we still had the pending issue of the plumbing to deal with. Just wait until you all hear this story. The crazy week from the dark depths of the trickster of the universe was only partially over.

I Will Drag You There. Do You Hear Me?

Hi all. As some of you may or may not know, I am having a spirit problem of epic proportions over here, which has halted my regularly scheduled updates. Because of one spirit, I am now minus my gift, or my super powers, as I prefer to call them for laughs, my spirit girls, and mostly all of my sanity. You know what I do have, though? I have every medical issue that said spirit's living person is having.

I know what you're all saying over there. But Cassie, don't you have medical problems? Yes, I do, but this crap isn't mine. How do I know that? A: Never had these symptoms before, and I think I'm over getting new stuff at this point. And B: I just do. Don't argue with your friendly neighborhood psychic. It will get you kicked. I'm sorry, did I say friendly? I meant polite and kind and appropriate at all times. Yep, everyone laughs when I say that. I'm so offended. Lying isn't funny.

In this person's defense, he's gone to the doctor. I'm pretty sure my absent spirit girls pushed him there, but he went. His meds worked for two days. For two glorious days, I wasn't coughing, spitting up tiny particles of blood, having respiratory problems and having chest pains that rivaled an elephant parking itself on me. It was kind of amazing, and then BAM! And he's all, complain, complain, complain all over Twitter about his medical issues, but did he go back to the doctor? No, he went out of town. Jerk. And yes, I totally follow my spirits' people on Twitter if I feel it's necessary and have to get a message to them. Gotta love how easy the internet makes stalking. It does, however, make it easier for me to find my spirits' person. Not that I'm stalking them, but I digress.

So as I'm sitting here tonight for the second late night in a row, coughing like a maniac with no sore throat, and totally unable to breathe like a normal person and all that jazz, I finally broke. Desperate to flip out at someone, I decided to be intelligent about this for once, knowing that I'm not really shy and am totally capable of doing this. I turned to my beloved and rad friend, Cephelia Jackson (I will never tell if this is her real name or not. Secret keeping is the only super power I have left.), to remind me that what I was totally prepared to do was not sane. She's like my little sanity keeper. It's worse than being a zoo keeper, and she doesn't get paid enough. See: She doesn't get paid at all. It's probably not legal.

I politely told Cephelia Jackon my issue after about an hour of complaining, and asked her to remind me that it is not sane to write this person a direct message on Twitter and lose my shiz on them, because seriously, I can have medical problems all on my own. I even went as far as to type my short, albeit, to the point letter to her. I think so you can really get a grasp on how much this sucks right now, it's mandatory to share this letter with you. It's pretty epic, if I do say so myself. Which I do, so I'm probably the only one that thinks this.

"Hi, You don't know me, and I don't really care. If you do not go to the doctor, I will come there, drag you there, and then sit in the exam room while you change into those snazzy gowns with no backs and watch. I will grab you by your ear and I will drag you. If I have to beat you over the head with something and drag you there, that can be arranged too. Trust me, I'd be doing us both a favor. Because if you are okay with feeling like this, you are a dumb ass, but that's fine. However, a one hundred and twenty pound girl's body can not take the same shiz as a two hundred and twenty five pound man's body. How do I know all of this from clear across the country and without being a stalker? Because I have LMCP (His spirit.), and bitches ain't dumb after they die. So really, don't make me come over there. It's two women, one dead and one alive, against one man, and that will never, ever end well for you."

Okay, so in retrospect, that was a terrible, terrible letter. And in reality, I would never, ever send something like that to someone, but I think it's fair that I'm super annoyed that he won't go back to the doctor. It's because he knows something is really wrong and is afraid, and I get that, but obviously this is a man who needs friends who care about him, because he doesn't have anyone who really gives two flying farts about if he's well or not. I will be fine and this will be gone in another hour for me. It will come back later, but it usually doesn't last more than an hour or two. He's dealing with this pretty concretely. So guys, although I normally don't ask for this, can you all pray for this poor kid? Seriously. I don't think he needs any more issues than he already has, and right now I just feel really bad for him. Maybe if we all send good vibes his way he'll, you know, go to the doctor.