So Very Spring

There's two things you should all know about me. I am sew crafty and so terribly punny. That being said, I would like to share my latest adventures in crafting with all of you. With spring in full swing, though it hardly feel like it here, I thought I'd do a special feature to get you all in the springtime mood.

As with every spring, everything starts to bloom, the warm air feels swell, and crap needs cleaned, especially if it's outside crap that's sat through a long winter of neglect. In our case, it's our covered porch and all of the lawn furniture that belongs on it. This year, we had two main problems when scrubbing everything down. The first one problem was the butterflies that hang on the lattice of our porch. Some of the paint was chipping off of them and, in general, they were quite dull. Never being one to know a dull butterfly, I decided to spruce them up a bit. There are three separate ones, each featuring a shot from the front and from above so that you can see the hints of color that were intertwined to make these butterflies pop. Just for the hell of it, I'm going to name the butterflies, because I wouldn't be me if I stopped naming inanimate objects now.

This little baby butterfly shall be Brooke. She looks like a Brooke, right? Right? (Amuse me. You know you want to.)


This butterfly looks more like a Julianne to me. Sweet and pretty.


Last but not least, we have Serinda. If any of you have caught on to the show I'm referencing, then high five and cookies all around. Only, I don't actually have cookies, so they're pretend cookies. Sorry for the false advertisement.


Next up, we have this very lovely chair. This chair has been a bone of contention for awhile now. Mr. or Mrs. chair here had some old, worn out, stained, ugly cushions that had seen better days, but whose insides were in fine shape. The obvious answer to this was to get new cushions, but after years of looking at all times of the year, we realized that we'd have to harvest one kidney each to pay for them. Have you ever priced those suckers? They're uber expensive. For that price, they better clean my house too, but I digress.

Not able to take the cushions anymore, even after scrubbing them until the neighbors began to think that instead of the crazy cat lady, I was the crazy cushion lady, I decided our only option to save them was to cover them with fabric. That was, if we could get the right kind of fabric cheap enough. I set off to Joanne Fabrics (Who I am not associated with, by the way), and started going through their sale fabric. Since they were having a half off sale on the sale fabric (The irony of this was not lost on me.), I was able to find an outdoor fabric for three dollars a yard. For that price, I was able to get enough fabric to cover the two cushions and make a matching tablecloth, all for just $15. That was less than half of the price of one store bought cushion. Win!

Our chair was primarily the color it is in the picture, only the paint was old and worn, and it was cracked and faded. I threw on two coats of Mod Podge and covered it with some outdoor paint. Then I added the newly made chair cushions and VOILA! We had a chair that looked nearly brand new. And, as I'm sure you can see from the picture, this chair and its cushions have been animal approved. They're already adorned with hair and bunched up from the animals making themselves comfortable. Rawr.

The last thing I did for the porch was the tablecloth. I swore at least twelve times and threatened suicide at least thirteen. The tablecloth was an easy sew, but because the tablecloth was so big around, it took me forever to sew the whole way around it. I debated both eating and taking a nap in between sewing it. I even ran out of thread at one time and had to rewind the bobbin. I was happy with the finished product, though. I just didn't feel like ironing it after all of that sewing. Lazy for the win.

If It's Not Inappropriate, It's Not My Flavor

Okay squirrel monkeys, ladies, and that random gentleman or two that may or may not be reading my blog, but I don't want to exclude just in case, I have a lot to share with all of you. First, just let me start off by saying that if you follow me on Twitter, I'm sorry for my posts this entire week. I am usually not the snippy tweeter, but it happened this week and I'm sorry. Eventually I will open up about what went wrong this week, but for right now I have a lot of things to figure out. That being said, let's move on to bigger and better and more fun things. Since my week has otherwise been uneventful, I will just share the crazy little quips that have happened, and then we're going to talk TV shows awesome sauce style.

* I did one of those things this week that I think only white people do, and I went to Family Dollar. Now, I get that I'm from exactly in the middle of nowhere, so what I'm going to say next sounds really hick-ish, but that's par for the course for the area. Family Dollar is way cooler than Wal-Mart. Granted, it's smaller and you can only find certain things, but it was much cheaper, and then I had coupons. Okay, go ahead and judge. I'm cool with that.

* My friend, Jo, decided I would be the best worst psychologist ever. I'd be the best because I say things how they are. Unfortunately, that's why I'd also be the worst. I'd be like that guy from the Geico commercial. If that happens, I just have to remember to use the words namby pamby and jack wagon. I wonder if I can program that reminder into my phone.

* I am trying to be more open about being a psychic medium and help people, therefore, I've joined a forum and have been honest about what I am on my social media pages. So far, it's been a good thing, because a lot of people are asking me for help. It's time consuming, but I'm doing what I want to do with my gift. However, psychologists keep following me on Twitter. Bring it on, guys. All you're doing is amusing me. I'm game to be friends if they are. I've got no crazy to hide.

* I have met the coolest people within advertising my gift. To keep everyone anonymous, I will not go into detail, but they are awesome and if they see this, they will know who they are.

* This event is kind of a double whammy. My friend posted something on her Twitter about hanging out with two other friends after work. The three of them are all kinds of crazy together, so I always joke with her about getting arrested when she hangs out with them. But seriously, if they were to get arrested for anything, it would be something stupid like jay walking or laughing too loud. I joked with her that when she got arrested, I was going to bail her out, but not until I wrapped her car in a thick, steady cover of Saran wrap. I was posting from my phone and it proceeded to correct Saran wrap to Satan wrap. I don't like it's language.

* Our neighbors, oh, our neighbors, have just gotten even more special. This summer, it seems as if there's no longer a question as to if the neighbor girl's boyfriend has moved in and they are now living above her grandparent's garage together. That's all well and good aside from the internet stealing, the screaming fights, and the talking on the cell phone outside so loudly that we can hear them from nearly a football field away. We've gotten used to that normal douchebaggery. What really gets me is that the boyfriend will let the dog outside and not watch it, because he's too busy talking on his cell phone. When the dog takes off, which it inevitably does, because it's still but a puppy, he will scream, yell, raise his hands to it (but not hit it) and call it every name in the book in a volume far above stadium level. I feel bad that he sincerely thinks it's the dogs fault he doesn't watch it. There's no responsibility there.

* For those of you who didn't watch the Kentucky Derby, there were people who named their horses My Wife Knows Everything and My Wife Doesn't Know Everything. I love those people.

* While in Joann Fabrics, a young and adorable little husband and wife were walking around in the store. When I happened to pass them, the husband, completely exasperated, looks at the wife and yells, "You're NEVER bringing me in here again!" Is a fabric store really that bad for men?

* From Joann's I went to Ross's. The store wasn't even half as awesome as what I expected, so I sped on out of there, but not before three college guys made my day. They were looking at pans and skillets and trying to figure out why they came in different sizes and what pan did what. I was tempted to help, but I didn't think I'd be much help. They were so cute and so confused and so amusing. Yes, I'm horrible and should have helped them like I helped the guy in the spices aisle the day before Christmas.

* The song Friday has become such a disastrous event that our weatherman spent the Sunday newscast trying not to say Friday when giving the weekly weather report. He would point to the name of the day on the screen, and he would say every day up until Friday, and then just stop and point. It was obvious even he was avoiding the Friday curse. I don't find it coincidental that this is Friday the 13th.

* Dear Dog, You are approximately ninety bagillion inches bigger than a cat. You can reclaim your bed. You can do it! But you never do. That is all.

* Dear Cookies, It can be three am and I can be fast asleep, but if someone has one of you within a mile, I will know and fight them for it.

* While my mom was texting, she asked me how to spell snot. I'm not really sure what happened in that text, but I feel like ignorance is bliss.

* Me: "Her name is BJ? I bet she was popular with the boys." Mom: "I don't get it."
Yeah, guys, that happened.

* I realize my problem with dating. I have more balls than most guys, and it bothers me more than it bothers them. They think it's fine. This will come in handy later when we talk about TV shows. This should never come in handy anywhere, I know.

* My dog and my mom are both stuck in the couch. Win! < That's my exact tweet. When my mom reads this, I'm sure she won't agree that it was a win, but from across the couch and minding my own business, it really was.

* Great name for a B horror movie: Have You Been In the Basement? And by great, I mean awful. Just awful.

* I have to stop liking much older guys. People only know I love them when I tell them I love them as much as I love old guys. It's sad. It's also true. And sad. Did I mention that this was sad? I just have no interest in guys my age. I don't even find them attractive anymore. I try, but i just have nothing in common with guys my age. Where is the retirement home recruitment team when I need them? No, I'm not that gross. I don't like guys that old. I'm kinda digging the mid thirties to early forties crowd.

I think that pretty much sums up the boredom that was my week. I'm sure it would have been a much more eventful week had my ankles and knees not swelled up and forced me to painfully waddle like a penguin everywhere I go. But it's fine, I like penguins, I just never wished to be one. Can't win them all, right? Because of this, I've watched my share of television shows this week, so let's talk about of these shows.

- Let's start with the least exciting of these shows. Like a ninety year old who had been recruited by a retirement home, I was watching the show Baggage on the Game Show Network. All of the contestants were gay guys. It was simply the most delightful half an hour of TV I've sat through in a long time. I wouldn't make a point out of watching it, but I was that bored, in that much pain, and that was the only thing that I could find that was on. I'm so glad I watched it. It made my world go round; at least that particular episode did. Gay men are so catty and honest. I think every girl should have three or four.

- Is anyone watching In Plain Sight this season? Because I'd love someone to geek out and talk about the show with. I'm iffy on this season because last season didn't kick butt like the others, however, I love the new, peppy, muffin making girl. I'm just waiting for her to do something bizarre and awesome that freaks Mary the heck out. Not that it would take much...

- I am loving me some Hellcats. Of course, was there ever any doubt that I would? I love all things sixteen year olds love when it comes to TV, and both Ashley and Aly are from Disney, so where could it go wrong? It's saucy, sassy and a little risque without being overboard. I love the characters; they were well thought out. The relationships intertwine nicely and adding Aly's (Marti) real life sister to the show to play her sister is just a win. Plus, we got this quote out of it. "I'm a sad loser with acute daddy issues. At least I can dance." Just one request, the show needs more Dan. Oh, come on, he's eye candy, ladies. Don't judge me. I think he's the only person under thirty that I find remotely cute right now. I don't get out much.

- Oh, Criminal Minds, anyone have thoughts on it? Because the first four seasons were pure, heartfelt awesome sauce. Last season seemed to be hit or miss, but this season has been a *whispers* total disaster. Between the new writers who had no idea of who these characters were and had obviously never seen the show, and the unfinished story lines, or random story lines that went with none of the character's pasts galore, it's been a mess. I miss when things made sense on the show. I miss when the writers double checked the character's back stories so that nothing got written that didn't fit with them. I watched one episode and noticed eight errors, eight glaring errors for any fan in the first half an hour of the episode. I tuned out on that episode after that. I've been watching it, and there's been a few episodes that have been killer and right on, but if you look, those are the ones that are written by the old writers. I love that JJ is coming back, and possibly Emily, but I hope they're enough to save the errors in the show. Also, what's with Reid's headaches disappearing? Take it from someone who has migraines, they don't just look at you one day and decide they don't love u anymore and flee. Someone, please save what used to be my very favorite show. I don't like having a new one.

- Okay, so for our big finale, let's talk about my new favorite show that I totally thought I was going to hate the pants off of when it started out, but decided to give it a chance only because it was on in place of Criminal Minds on Sundays and was interrupting my night. Let's talk about Breakout Kings. As I said, when this show started, it was rocky, there were issues, the show wasn't exactly a new concept, and then they switched out a character I really, really liked right off of the bat. I sat through the first three episodes out of pure laziness of changing the channel. Okay, truth, there was just nothing else on. The show finally hit its stride and hit it hard around the fourth episode, and the errors that were apparent and threatening to mar the show in the first few episodes had disappeared. So as long as DirectTV doesn't come in and decide to take A&E like they did Bio, I will be a very happy camper. And then the show will go on break...and you see where this is going. But let's focus on the happy camper part.

In order to properly talk about this show, we're not going to talk about Lloyd. Every single article ever written about the show dotes on Lloyd. We get it, Lloyd is the breakout character, and I appreciate Lloyd and the guy who plays him, I do, but he tends to play the same part in every show. Plus, he's a lot like Spencer Reid on Criminal Minds, although their likeliness is getting
less and less as the show goes on, at least personality wise. But we're not talking about Lloyd. So since the characters make the show, let's gossip about everyone else.

Let's start with Shae. I started out liking Shae, and now I'm sketchy on him. I always root for the bad guys who are really good guys. I think Shae may just be a bad guy, and it concerns me because I started out really liking the guy. Thoughts?

On the other hand, Julianne had the opposite effect. I started out thinking she was a lame, boring attempt at recreating characters like Penelope Garcia and Abby Sciuto in a different, fresh way, but as the show went on, she, too, has made her character really stand out. You can't help but like her as she takes Lloyd's advice little by little and starts to tell the cons just how it is, yet she's so fragile that you don't think she's being a bitch. I'm still unsure about how I feel about her liking Ray and Ray just being completely ignorant to the whole thing, but I kind of like her with Lloyd. He has what she needs to get through life, and she has the understanding to pull his ass into the real world. I like the dynamic.

Charlie is one of those characters that I really want to get into, but he kind of sits in the middle for me. I don't love him, I don't not like him. I don't want him to die or anything, but I just don't care all that much either way. I'm neutral. I want to really get into his storyline since he's a nice, family guy with a heart issue, but I feel a disconnect with him. I also feel like, in a show of very strong characters, he gets overshadowed easily by being a bit more mundane.

Before I talk about my two favorite characters, let me just put this out there. I miss Philly. I don't know what it is that I liked about her. Maybe it was that her name was Philomena Rotchcliffer; I won't even put her nickname on here. Maybe it's how they presented her; Miss Idaho 2001 / Con Artist - 1999 to Present. Maybe it's just because the girl took over the situation and had some serious guts, but was a little bit of the girl gone bad that I liked. I don't like when guys go bad. I like when girls go bad. I realize that someone out there thinks this makes me sound like a lesbian, and you just shut up over there and stop laughing. I'd be laughing, too, but that is NOT where I'm going with this. She was my favorite right out of the gate, and then they went and replaced her, and I couldn't help but think, who in the hell is this new bitch?

That bitch ended up being Erica. Erica does not get enough credit on this show for being anything but pretty. I love her character. The concept of her being a bounty hunter's daughter who avenged all but one of the men who killed her father, but only got arrested on weapons charges just brings a lot to the table. I can see why they swapped Philly out for her, because, in her own way, Erica is a cop in herself, even though she's really a con. She knows the procedure and she isn't afraid to hop in and back the Marshals as if she were one of them, too. She's an important part of the show, but I happen to like a good con artist, and I think they could benefit from a character that can run a con to catch a con. I think they're trying to stay away from that as not to be too much like Leverage, but I hope they give Erica a chance to at least try to run one con on a con man they're trying to catch. I like the dynamic, and I'd like to see the Marshals' reaction to her character doing something like this.

And then there's Ray. Ray could be a television show in himself. At first I didn't like Ray, because I thought he was inappropriate, and I usually like the inappropriate people, so that was awkward. As time has goes on, he's not only become more inappropriate, but he's become an unintentional comedic relief when Lloyd isn't around to also be unintentionally comedic. Plus, you know what I was saying earlier about guys and balls? Ray has balls for miles. I know that doesn't sound right, but there's never going to be a way to make that sound right, so you just shut up. (I know you readers all too well.) But seriously, he will do and say anything he has to in order to catch a con, and he's really good at it. His informant is even a transvestite that is so clearly a guy but dresses like a girl, and the two are buds. Once I saw that, Ray won me over. I like the rough demeanor, but you can tell he's a really nice guy at the end of the day. I think he wins over Charlie for me because there's several sides to him, whereas Charlie is a fairly one sided straight shooter. I like my characters complex.

But my favorite thing about this show has to be that it is inappropriate in an appropriate way. It's not Jersey Shore. You don't avoid watching it because you know it's full of bitches, hoes and oompa loompas fighting over guys with fake tans. You know they're going to drink and say things that aren't anywhere near what any person under thirty but above thirty five should hear. With Breakout Kings, the inappropriateness, which, granted, normally comes from Ray, just pops up out of nowhere when you think there's no way for them to make the scene inappropriate, and then it's just all kinds of funny. There was even a scene that made me wonder how in the heck it was allowed on prime time television, on a channel that bleeps out every single swear word and things that seem like they could be a swear word. I would like to share that scene with you now. Since I don't have a video, I'll just tell you about it, but still know that it's not appropriate for work or people under thirty or above thirty five. Basically, it's not appropriate for anyone reading this blog, but I know you're all going to read it anyway, so have at it.

In one particular episode, they were, as always, chasing down a prison escapee, a runner, if you will. This runner had tried to murder Charlie's wife and was a threat to Ray's daughter, so they wanted this guy bad. In order to get to the runner, they had to track down another guy to find out where said runner was. They found the guy, but the guy didn't want to talk. They tried everything, but he wasn't having it at all, and they were running out of time, because they knew the runner was planning on bombing a federal building the following day and were trying to stop it. In a last ditch effort to extract information out of this guy, Ray asks Charlie if he's ever wanted to be gay. Charlie says no, and Ray agrees. With that out of the way, Ray unzips the guys pants, grabs his junk and threatens him with the cigarette lighter in the car. Needless to say, the guy talked faster than you can say sabotage.

The next scene skips to them going to where the previous guy told them they could find the runner. When they get there and open up the underground bunker and enter, Ray steps on a trip wire. Charlie is trying techniques on the bomb that he learned from the movie Spaceballs, and surprisingly, this is just not working out. So Ray starts to say something, and Charlie says to him, "I'll tell your daughter you love her." All of a sudden, Ray gets exasperated, as if Charlie just said the stupidest thing and fires back with, "No, she KNOWS I love her." Then his voice goes into a whisper and he says, "If I die, don't tell anyone I touched that guy's penis." To top the scene off, Lloyd happened to pop his head into the bunker at just the right moment, hear this, and begin to question what he just heard, as opposed to caring that he may get blown up by a bomb if he continues standing there. I don't know how those scenes made it on air, but they made my night. Inappropriate jokes are never out of style.

The Big Kahunas With All the Moola Do Not Approve of This Post

Just a few notes about awesome things, before I get into non awesome things, like Craigslist people. I am feeling very comedic at the moment, so hopefully this post will offset the balance of the last one. These things are listed in no particular order other than awesome sauce.

* Greta Hayley has a secret talent that not even I was aware of until four days ago. She is a little boss at killing bugs. She killed three bugs in four days for me, and she did it with pizazz. The first bug was one of those stink bugs that flew down and landed on her paw. She looked at me, looked back at the stink bug, did it all over again, and then took her paw and whacked it one. Then, she looked at me again and I applauded her. I'm sorry if her bug killing talents offend anyone.

Second, there was some bee flying around in the kitchen. We could hear it from the living room. I got up to go into the kitchen and heard this little bark come out of Greta, and then a scurry and snapping sound. By the time I got to where she was, the bee was dead, and she was giving me this awfully proud look. If I could have high-fived her, I would have.

Third, I was trying to paint out on the porch, and there was this fly that was all up in my business. I have to think that fly knew that I had a paintbrush in my hands and couldn't attack him or her, so he or she thought he would just make up for every fly I've ever murdered by annoying me. Sure enough, he only got about two minutes in when Greta snapped her little jaw and then spit him back out again. She looked at me, I looked at her, and I had but one thing to say.

"Like a boss, Greta. Like a boss."

* I finally got Penelope Lola back. Penelope Lola is my car that has been un-drivable for a year and a half, until someone could finally figure out what was going on with it. Now I am a bit of a neatnik about my car, so imagine my horror when I had it returned to me after six months and found grease in places I didn't think grease could get into. I am literally going to have to take the rug scrubber down with the extension and scrub out the cloth seats of my car, the floor, and anything else with material covering it. Then, I'm going to have to scrub down every inch of the inside of my car with antibacterial wipes, and soap and water. And that's just the inside of my car. The outside is another horror, as instead of being tucked into her favorite garage, she had been left to sit outside for six months straight. Did I mention the inside of my car is tan and the outside silver? I am so screwed. And I'd be mad that it was that dirty, as opposed to just reasonably dirty, but he's the only one who figured out what was wrong with my car in a year and a half, so I kind of love him and therefore it's just funny.

Also, it's hard to hate a mechanic that tells kick-ass stories. Somehow we got into talking about lines of credit, and he was telling us that someone he knew had a workshop that was as big as his garage that he used just for woodworking, which was his hobby. His entire workshop, workbench, to outdoor supplies such as lawn mowers that were stored in there, were all from Sears and all Sears brand. This is a man who bled for Sears. For all intents and purposes, he would have a love affair with Sears if it was legal. So one day he was in the store, buying his Sears stuff and minding his own business, when an employee told him that if he went on ahead and got a Sears card that he could save some money on his purchases. Delighted and feeling as if he already owned half the store, he decided to go ahead and get a Sears credit card. He was denied.

* Is it possible to feel bad for someone's hair, because you know that no hair is supposed to look like that and imagine the torture it's been through in order to be made that way? Because I do feel bad for someone's hair, and I'm just making sure that's totally sane. Hint: It's not.

* I am still being stalked by my dentist. Well, not him specifically and not his office itself, but the girls who work there and insist I have to get my teeth cleaned right now. I've told them numerous times to chill out, that I'm going through some stuff with my migraines and medication adjustments, and that right now getting my teeth cleaned is the least of my worries. It hasn't stopped them, and when they have someone cancel, they somehow think it appropriate to call me and see if I want the appointment. It amuses me that they think I'm going to say something different each time they call. Also, my doctors said I do not need to take a pre-med before I get my teeth cleaned, but the the dentist won't allow me to get my teeth cleaned without one, and the kind of pre-med they want me to take actually exacerbates migraines. We've got a whole lot of fail going on here.

* I wrote an email where I had to reiterate that someone was 34 years old...in people years. Not dog years, people years. It's sad when that disclaimer is necessary.

* On one of the local home listings my mom was sifting through, under selling points it stated, "Neighbor has new tin roof." We're still not sure how that's a selling point.

* I was watching Say Yes to the Dress today and some girl said that she was Persian, which made her just like the Kardashians, but prettier. I decided it necessary to talk to the TV and tell her the Kardashians are Armenian. I don't know if I should be proud I know that or embarrassed, so let's just meet somewhere in between.

* I know I've mentioned before that I don't care for the character of Ashley Seaver on Criminal Minds, but I love Rachel Nichols. Love. Her Twitter is the source of much amusement for me, and I think I want to adopt her as my best friend, but since that's both impossible and creepy, I'll pass. Two of my favorite tweets by her are as follows:

RachelNichols1
Dear GymBoy: The boobs are mine. Your eyes seem to be attempting theft. It doesn't matter how long you stare...they won't abandon my ship!

Rachel Nichols
Dear Neighbors-Playing-Techno, I will unforgivingly toilet-paper your house and egg the cars in front if this continues. You've been warned.

Considering she hates her neighbors and their ridiculous loudness, and we hate ours for the same reason, I'm pretty sure she and I would be perfect neighbors. Either way, follow her on Twitter. I promise if you like this blog that you will love her, and you don't even have to like her character on Criminal Minds, but please be nice to her. She's very talented and has no control over writing her own character, so it's not her fault, guys. Even Thomas Gibson thinks you should be nice to her, and he's actually on the show.

All of that was more awesome than I was prepared for, but I'm still going to go ahead with the original post. As I've mentioned a ludicrous amount of times before, people on Craigslist are crazy, so much so that I've made a tag for them on the blog. Not all of them, mind you, but a vast majority. For the years I've been selling on there and complaining about people, I realized one thing; clearly I am the true moron here, because I keep posting on there. Sue me, but I want to get things sold, and that used to happen, but now it's just a whole lot of idiots that never pan out, show up, or come with the correct type of payment or amount of money. It's like nobody can read anymore, and it's getting crazy up in there, folks. That being said, I've come to you with more stories about my endeavors in selling.

I'll start you out gentle, because the last two stories are whoppers, so I'll work you into this. The first lady I'd like to tell you about was a lady who was interested in one of my horse items. She emailed me and wanted to know if the item was still available, because she just had to have it. I told her that it was and never heard back from her. I guess she just enjoyed sounding desperate, but really didn't need to have it at all. Or maybe she was one of those people who thinks if they tell you that they have to have it, you'll lower the price, and when you don't, they either go away or fight with you. (I've seen this far too many times.) It may forever remain a mystery.

The next person was a guy, and I'm really not sure where the comprehension problem was, or if he's one of those delightful telemarketers that you can never understand and know they're from a land far, far away, but has a very American name, in his spare time. He wanted CD stands that I was selling and asked me for the measurements of them and when we could meet so he could pick them up, as all my ads state that the person is responsible for pickup or shipping costs. I emailed him back with both of these things. I received two more emails from him asking when we could meet, but the first one of those stated that the sizes were perfect and he wanted them. Therefore, he had read the email with the measurements, that had also included the days and times for the next week that I could meet him, but missed the days and times. I sent it to him again, and still got a third email asking me the same question. I gave him one more chance and figured if he asked me again, I was just done dealing with stupid. I didn't hear from him again.

That was, at least, until Monday of this week, four days later. Two of the days I had told him I could meet him were Monday morning and Wednesday. This was now Monday afternoon, so obviously Monday was no longer an option. In the email he said he would meet me Tuesday, if that was still okay. Tuesday was never okay. Tuesday was never a day I gave him the option of meeting me on, and he even asked me three times what days I could meet him. I emailed him back right away and resisted saying, "Hey, you idiot, learn to read if you're going to ask me the same thing three times," and instead ate humble pie and apologized, telling him I could not meet Tuesday, but that I could meet him Wednesday. If you're counting, this is the fourth time I've told him I could meet him Wednesday, and the fourth time I reiterated what days I could meet him. I've not heard back from him yet.

He's not the only person who has been a pain in the ass over fourteen dollars in CD racks, yes, racks, as in plural, so I'm selling them super cheap. Another guy wanted to know if I could bring them to him over an hour away, despite me listing otherwise in the ad. Delete. But I think what was spectacular about this dude was not only the fact that he made me question is reading skills, but the fact that if he was planning on meeting me Tuesday, he had to have checked his email between Monday and Tuesday to see if I agreed to it and for me to give him the address of the meeting place, as I never do that until I have a day locked down. People are just too crazy for me to feel safe doing that before then. Either way, this guy either never checked his email and wouldn't have shown up Tuesday, leaving me waiting for him, or he did check it and didn't feel it important enough to let me know if he could do Wednesday or not. I have a feeling I haven't heard the last of him, but I'm just done dealing with him. We're going to have a yard sale soon, and CD racks almost always go. I can't put any more energy into stupid for fourteen bucks, nor can I trust this guy to show up if we do lock down a date. I don't even think he knows what he's doing. Maybe I should pray for him and his poor mind?

As for these next two stories, I'm not really sure which one is worse and which person's tree goes the least of the way to the top, but I do know which one makes me angry and which one makes me laugh. I'll let you guys figure out which is which.

This one comes not from Craigslist, but from a site where you specifically sell horse tack. Since that's primarily what I'm selling, with the exception of the CD racks, I thought it smart to put the stuff on there. Plus, I've sold stuff through there before with minimal problems, however, horse people are exponentially weirder than regular people. If you're a horse person, I'm sorry, but don't deny it. I, myself, have been a horse person and am well aware of the atmosphere. Hell, I'm sure people looked at me several times and said, "what a moronic horse person," so it's fine. We're all friends here.

One of the items I had posted complete with a picture was a red winter horse blanket. This lady emails me and asks me what color the blanket was, despite the picture. I rolled my eyes, but since she couldn't see me do it, I simply answered her and moved on with my day. I didn't hear from her for several days, but then one day I got an email from her asking me if she could have a picture of the blanket. As I said, the ad contained said picture, so I was just composing an email to her telling her to please refer to the ad, when she wrote me again and told me to "Never mind. I want a blue blanket." I'll just give you a minute to face palm before I elaborate. Go ahead. It's okay. I did it, too.

What makes this story particularly interesting to me is that the person could have answered their own question and not had to go through all of this by just paying attention to the ad itself. But even though, I am selling an expensive blanket for 28% of the price. It was used once very briefly and isn't dirty or anything. It's in like-new condition. Winter horse blankets are also never seen by anyone but the people at the barn, for the most part. Look, I know some people are awfully picky about what color of stuff they want, and I get that, but if you're getting something for 28% of the cost in like-new condition, and no one else is really going to see it, does the color really matter? Oh well, at least she wasn't one of those people who asked me if they could get it cheaper since they didn't like the color, or if I could change the color, or if I had another one in a different color that they could have cheaper since I caused them distress by not posting one in their color. I'm not a store. I make that disclaimer on every ad, but still this happens to me with nearly every item. It's a hard knock life.

This story is definitely in my top five stories of crazy Craigslist people. It's very close to number one, too, right behind the lady who told me she wanted to buy my horse for her kid, but she never actually had a kid. I'm still confused over that one, but it's fine. Moving on to this lady. I got an email from someone who was interested in the chaps I had for sale. In the ad, I posted the size of them, plus my own height and weight so that people could get an idea of who they will and will not fit. With chaps, there's no wiggle room. They either fit or don't.

When this girl first emailed me, something about her wording threw me off, but who am I to judge someone just because they speak differently from me? Still, I thought something was up, but I put that suspicion aside and answered her back. Folks, never put that suspicion aside on Craigslist. Never. Ever. Never. I can't say that enough.

Nothing odd popped up other than that in our correspondence, so I thought things were fine, and she was interested in buying them, but then I didn't hear from her again. This happens all the time, so I shrugged it off and went on with life. Easter Sunday, I heard back from her. Her email said this exactly. "R these still avail? Call me if they r," and then there was her phone number, which I'm tempted to not remit, but would like to think I'm not that big of a jerk.

Another thing I've learned on Craigslist is to never, ever give someone your phone number unless there's an item that you can not remove from the house to meet them in the safety of a public place, and they must come to your house. Then, you have to give them your phone number in case they get lost. Otherwise, you're just asking for people to call you repeatedly about your item, and goodness be you tell them that you will not take the ridiculously low price they've offered, because then they will just call you more and try to harass you into allowing them to buy the item for two cents on the dollar. It's just not a good idea. Plus, when you already have the internet, it's useless to waste cell phone minutes explaining to someone where they are going, because God forbid they'd use mapquest, or if they agree to do that, you usually end up repeating your address to them twenty times anyway. The internet is just easier for that sort of thing. And obviously, if they emailed me about the item, they can function their way through email.

That being said, I emailed her back and just politely explained to her that I did not make phone calls or give out my number unless absolutely necessary, due to previous issues on Craigslist, but would be happy to email her anything she needed. The email I got back was an absolute rant in text speak, wherein she very finitely told me that I would basically be calling her and would not be emailing her anymore, end of story. I would not, especially not after that, because she was quickly proving my point about why it's a bad idea to give people on Craigslist your number. You can block an email, but my cell phone service provider does not give me that same option.

Now, that original sneaking suspicion was crawling back into my veins. It wasn't just her wording or her lack of being able to spell anything out, but it was the tone of the email, and the defiant, fussy attitude of a teenager that struck me odd about her and made me suspect something was up. Not only that, but prior to then she had been just fine emailing me back and forth, but now, all of a sudden she was telling me that "You can not email me anymore and have to call me." Upset at her language and, quite frankly, her teenage angst behavior, I nicely wrote her back and told her that I was sorry, but I would absolutely not be calling her, especially not after that email, and that if she wanted to meet me, I could meet her on these days at these locations, if that would make it easier for her. All she had to do was pick where and when. Even after I sent the email, something didn't sit right with me.

Up until this point, I had not paid attention to her email address, mostly because her name was attached to the email, so every time an email came through, it came through with her name attached. This is when I decided to look at the email address that was next to her name inside of the email, and that's when I had a good idea of what was going on and flashbacks of previous catastrophes of selling horse items came back to me. I haven't sold anything of the horse persuasion in a few years, so I had nearly forgotten about how many young kids would email me, and the tone of their emails was very specific, as was the way they typed, spelled, etc., and I knew then that was what was striking me funny about this girl. I was subconsciously having a flashback of the other issues I had gone through with kids, but couldn't quite grasp it at the surface. The fact that her email was practically ILuvJustinBieber4evas (but not actually that), gave it away.

Armed with her full name (and an extremely unusual last name at that), email address and phone number, I looked her up on Facebook. It took me about five seconds to find her. And, you guessed it, she was some mouthy little teenager, too young to even drive to pick up said chaps. Here's where I'd like to put a disclaimer. I'm well aware not all teenagers are mouthy, in fact, most aren't, but this one is, and many of the ones I've dealt with through selling things have been.(I had one who was just fantastic, so fantastic, in fact, that I did give her a break on the price, and she continue to contact me and let me know how much she was appreciating the item for almost a year after.) They usually like to try to get me to give them a cheaper price, and by cheap, we're talking less than half of what I'm asking, and when I won't, I get obscenity laden emails full of whining and insults from them. They tell me that it's not okay to charge a teenager that much. What gets me is that apparently it's okay for them to expect me to give them a break because they're a teenager and rip myself off. But I digress. I also want to say that I know teenagers have parents that could drive them to pick something up, but when I went back over her emails and perused her Facebook page, I was able to put together a little story about what exactly had gone down from her first email to her last.

Teenager sees ad for chaps and wants the chaps, so she emails me about them without asking the Big Kahunas With All the Moola. However, the Big Kahunas, BK for short (must stop thinking about Burger King), closely monitor her web activity and saw she was emailing someone about buying something without consulting them first. They told her she could not have the chaps, enter her emails to me stopping. Then Easter came around and good ole' grandma gave teenager money, so she thought she was going to pull a fast one on parents and use it for the chaps before they realized, even though her money was promised to parents to be used for something else. This is where her plan confuses me, because if her parents monitor her emails, I'm not sure how she thought emailing me again and telling me to call her if the item was still available was going to slide under her parents radar. Your guess is as good as mine, because I don't understand how teenage minds work. Either way, that was her plan, only, when I couldn't call her and emailed her instead, that's when she went off on a rant of teenage proportions and told me I could no longer email her and HAD to call her. I'm going off of her Facebook page, which has painted me this beautiful picture, however, it's left me without certain details, such as how she was planning on meeting me to get the chaps without her parents driving her or knowing, or why she thought they weren't going to see her master plan all over her Facebook page, but that's neither here nor there. The only thing I do get is that she could hide my number under a friend's name and since it was a cell number, her parents couldn't listen in on the conversation like they could monitor emails.

Because I'm the nice person that I am and never do anything like take the side of parents when I think they might like to know that their kid was pulling one over on them, I emailed her back. Yeah, I know, but I still didn't think what she was doing was really all that cute. I very nicely let her know that since she had willfully provided me with her full name, her email address and a phone number, I was easily able to Facebook her and therefore knew her master plan, and that she was barely a teenager and not supposed to even be emailing me about the chaps at all. I told her I thought it was rude and disrespectful to waste my time, and being an adult myself, I wouldn't have put up with her for two seconds once I found out she was pulling something, which is exactly what had happened. Then I told her a little bit about how much I didn't appreciate the language she used with me and what not, and then said hi to her parents and that I trusted they would deal with her. Unnecessary because she was digging her own grave with all those gaping holes in her plans? Most likely, but I just thought her parents would appreciate me laying out exactly what she had tried to pull, that I knew, and that I didn't appreciate it. I've learned it's one thing when kids disrespect their parents, but another when they do it to the parents and another person. So kids, if you're going to try to pull one over on someone trying to honestly sell something, don't swear at them, act suspicious, then give them enough information so that they can look up your Facebook account, and don't put your whole life all over it. It ruins your poorly laid out plan.

But in all of that, I think the funniest thing about all of this is probably the thing that's not going to come out right. As I mentioned, I put the size of the chaps, as well as my own height and weight so that everyone knew what to expect in sizing. This girl was easily seventy five pounds heavier than me. Easily. I say this not to be rude, but because I am not sure how she saw the sizing and still thought she was going to fit in the chaps. They're suede with a zipper, so there's no give in them at all. She had mentioned wanting to try them on to make sure they fit in one of her emails, which is completely normal, but I would have been seriously p-i-s-s-e-d if I took the time to meet with her to find that she either had delusions of grandeur about her size, or didn't read the sizing at all, because I wouldn't have even been able to let her try them on.

People, I just don't get 'em. Can anyone explain them to me? I'll send you homemade fudge if you can. No joke.

The Oompa Loompa Bridesmaidzilla

I think back on my life and all I've been through, and realize it's not normal. Everyone has their hardships, and I'm hardly saying my life compares to the tragedy that a lot of people are feeling and experiencing. I wouldn't trade a moment of what I've been through for anything, because it's all been a learning process. If I could have anything be different, I would only want for my grandfather to still be here with me. There's nothing I've done or have had happen that I regret so much that I'd want to take it all back.

There is never going to be an easy path to take in life. Even for those people with everything handed to them on a silver platter, you don't know their life. Maybe they seem like they have it all, but friend them, and you'll often find out they don't. There's always those few lucky little jerks who truly do just have the best darn luck, but I guess that's not really their fault, so I won't go on a random rant blaming them and plotting to steal all their luck. I'm sure that would not only be impossible, but lose me some karma points.

There are days where you will find the right thing to do is far from the easiest, but please don't cave. You're worth more than that. There will be paths that tempt you to cave along the way, especially in this day and age with all the social networking and what not. It makes for too easy access to things. But don't be pulled in, because it's not worth it. Regret is the worst roommate you can live with. They just sit around, nagging you all the time, bringing you down, and they don't cook their own food or clean up the bathroom when they inevitably miss. Losers.

What I'm trying to say is to just stay strong. There will always be that song on the radio that will make you cry, regardless of your mood. There will always be those days that remind you of something or someone that is responsible for your scars. There will always be an always, and that's when it's okay to pair it with a never. Never turn your back on yourself and know that part of living is feeling everything, so let yourself feel it. It's okay to have walls, hell, I'm the queen of them, but that doesn't mean you have to keep them from doing what is best for you, as long as you do it in a responsible way. You are amazing, so just be amazing you. Being anybody else just isn't worth it.

And now that I've gotten the heartfelt, advice giving part of this blog out of the way, I don't want to bring down the room too much. I feel like sometimes I give speeches, and that's not my intention. Therefore, I shall grace you with things I've learned and weird shit that has happened, and I felt it necessary to post on Twitter. It's like my little reminder log of crap I want to talk about on my blog. I will do a post of just pictures later, because boy do I love my Twitter pictures. For those of you who follow me on Twitter, all those weird posts will now be explained. I'm sorry in advance.

Also, I've been a bit absent because I am busy as all heck writing that novel and working on some stories for my amazing online readers. My head, it's going to explode. I'm sure this blog will reflect that with my schizo thoughts from Twitter, which is an accomplishment, considering I am not schizo. But without further ado...

* For those of you who watch Ghost Adventures, am I the only one who thinks they need a female to go with them? They are afraid of the weirdest stuff. If a woman were there, the men would be running down the hall, while the woman stood there, confused and befuddled about why three large men are running from some little banging noise in the dark. They're grown men. Shouldn't they know all about banging noises in the dark? I mean, I love the show and all, but as someone who deals with the paranormal on a daily basis, I think I'm qualified to laugh a little, right?

* For years we've joked that Gary Busey must have some kind of head injury to act that messed up. Turns out he really does. Who knew? Now I feel like a jerk. An unintentionally and slightly snarky correct jerk, but a jerk anyway.

* Show of hands, how many of you saw Bringing Ashley Home? Oh, wait, it's the internet, I can't see your hands. Put them down. I know my readers and you all put your hands up. Aww, that's why I love you all. Anyway, wasn't it an amazing movie? Such a heartbreaking true story, yeah? Plus, why is it that AJ Cook is so classy and amazing in everything she does? She can come back to Criminal Minds anytime now. Stupid people who decided not to renew her contract, I do not like you. Why you no let AJ stay?

On the same note, check out Outpost For Hope, which was started by the real Libba Phillips when her sister Ashley went missing.

* Team Chelsea! What am I talking about, you ask? Dancing With the Stars, of course. Most people don't know Chelsea Kane, but being the twenty-five-year-old sixteen-year-old that I am, I've adored her for years as Chelsea Staub on the Disney Channel. I'm all kinds of rooting for her talented little self. How about you guys? Any favorites? Or am I really the only one in my age group that watches it? Because that seems to be the consensus. I'm okay with being that lame.

* On the same note, I love Kirstie Alley and sadly expected her to not be all that great, but she is awesome and rocking it! You go, girl!

* I have a rockin' bridesmaid story for y'all. A few weeks back, I went with my friend and two of her other friends to help her pick out a bridesmaid dress for a wedding. This is kind of one of those stories within a story, because the bride initially told her she could get any shorter styled dress she wanted as long as it was in the color Guava. Then the bride reneged and told her she had to get this certain dress that was expensive and looked like the eighties threw up on it and didn't fit anyone correctly. With a little bit of back and forth, the bride went back to her original thought. Enter us dress shopping.

Somehow it came about that the bride decided at the last minute that she wanted the same monstrosity of a dress again for all the girls. My friend, being the good little seasoned bridesmaid that she is and trying to beat out Catherine Heigl for the new girl of 27 Dresses, she decided she could make this work. Then she put the dress on. You guys, there are no words to describe how horrendous this dress was on. It was truly one of those that looked one hundred times more putrid on the person than on the hanger, and how many times does that happen, really? Not only was it obvious that the dress was made extremely on the cheap and poorly, having little plastic sparkles on it instead of beads, but I'm not sure who they made it to fit. It was an unusual length, the waist cut off right at the va-jay-jay, which is just disgustingly strange, had no boob support, but dipped really low in the back so there was no way you could wear a bra. And it just fit funny. Even with alterations, there wasn't a lot they could do to correct it because it was put together so poorly. And they wanted over a hundred bucks for this piece of junk...well over.

We took a picture of her in the dress and sent it to the bride and everyone else we could think of, including our moms. Everyone was hysterical over how bad this thing was; that's right, it wasn't even a dress, just a thing. The bride, however, thought it looked fine. To prove that it looked awful on everyone, we had three people of drastically different sizes with us that day, and one girl who was the same size as the bridesmaid. The two of us that were different sizes also went and put on the dress. We looked like a swarm of clown-like Oompa Loompas, and please just tell me how hard that is to accomplish, because trust me honey, Oompa Loompa is not an easy thing to be. The bride still insisted they were fine. We insisted we invent a Bridesmaidzilla, but my friend handled it with poise and grace, even though we were fuming enough for eight people, because now we were in the dresses to prove a point. Apparently the point ended up being that the bride was blind.

This brought on possibly the strangest and most gobsmacked two hours one could have imagined. It started in phone calls to the bride, then to the bride's stepmother, and then in the bride calling the stepmother and hanging up on both her and my friend. It ended in my friend no longer being in the wedding by choice. She was given the ultimatum, buy the dress or get out. The dresses were so bad and the bride so badly behaved over several things that had nothing to do with the dress, that so many weeks later she's still sure she made the right decision.

* I decided that if I continue to be as tired as I've been since my crappy medication messed me up, that I will have no other choice than to declare that the retirement home is trying to recruit me. I'm just not ready to go there yet.

* I came home the night after the bridesmaid dress debacle, being recruited to the old folk's home and found that Aunt Bev was here. She and my mom were filling out papers for a mobile medical check that they were going to go to. My mom filled out her end of the paperwork and handed it to Aunt Bev, who was going to send it in. Aunt Bev proceeds to read the following.

"Birth date: December 1, 2011. You're not even alive yet!"

And I wonder where I get my absentmindedness from.

* I was in the doctors office for the hoard of ear problems I've been having lately. There was this cute little seventy something lady who was there with someone that I'm guessing was her daughter. I'm guessing this because the lady was literally an encyclopedia of Hugh Jackman knowledge, and I don't know who else would stick around for that. She was all kinds of awesome, though. She knew all the movies he did, and not only that, but the reasons why, too. She even knew why he was unable to attend the Oscars and everything else. Can we say stalker cougar?

* I've threatened to sing the weather campfire songs several times in the past few weeks. Yep, that's how our weather rolls, and that's how I roll to try to get it back. It's useless to fight with weather, though, because it's ultimately run by Mother Nature, and since she and Father Time broke up, she's been a bit cranky.

* If we never make it as the "Storm of the Day" on The Weather Channel again, it will be too damn soon. I can not repeat that enough.

* Late and random, but RIP Elizabeth Taylor. The first movie I ever saw her in was National Velvet, and she sustained her career for all of those years. She will always be a true legend.

* I've learned over time that watching Ghost Adventures immediately makes me hungry for chocolate. I don't know why this is. My friend, Non-Bridesmaidzilla, decided that eating chocolate during that show was a direct reference to the hot guys on that show. I adore the guys on that show, but I don't think Non-Bridesmaidzilla and myself are watching the same show. I just like chocolate.

* The line that made my month: "Dude, you can not sit here alone in a car. You'll be picked up for mopery with the intent to creep." I love you, Psych.

* People of Wal-mart, I repeat, People of Wal-mart, the aisles are not driving lanes. You can go around me, as opposed to riding me so close that you should have to buy me dinner and mumbling about how I need to walk faster when we're the only ones in the aisle. Go around me. There's plenty of room. I'm not the stupid one here.

* Our cat thinks she's a dog and goes out into the dog pen with our dogs, and then scratches at the door when she wants in. I wonder if there's therapy for cats having an identity crisis.

* I was trying to help my mom figure out what comes across properly and doesn't in texts so that she doesn't accidentally send something inappropriate to one of her clients in all of her technology ineptness. She then texted me, "up yours." Needless to say, I don't think she understood the lesson.

* If you know where Alivia Christine Kail is, please call the police. All the information about her and how to do it is here. Seriously, even if you just think you see her, call. She's not Waldo and this isn't really funny. People are missing her and no one knows where she could have gone. Help if you can.

* I sent this video to way too many people to make it kind. But seriously, the funniest thing in the world to me is people falling. I do it all the time, so I think it's fair that I laugh at others when they do, and I welcome them to laugh at me. This video not only has people falling, but large men falling, sometimes by their own stupidity, which is even funnier. One guy (eh hem, Zak), even falls while reading bad poetry he wrote himself for a ghost, because he was not paying attention. No, I can't make this shit up. Why do you ask?

And I should probably clarify that falling is only funny if no one is hurt. If someone is hurt, I refrain from the laughter.

* Just monkeying around. @(*.*)@ Yep, I went there.

* Why did no one tell me about a glorious little show called Hellcats? You all know I'm basically sixteen at heart, and I feel like I dropped the ball on this one. I expected it to be some show about cheerleaders with no substance. Don't get me wrong, I'm not against cheerleaders. I was a flyer myself once, but it just seems like shows never understand how hard cheerleaders work, and the shows about them end up being kind of ditzy. This one has serious heart, and now that I'm finally caught up, I'm so sad I don't have more episodes to watch and have to wait for the new ones. It's a hard knock life. I kid about that last part, of course.

* I posted that I had to get out of a vaporizer to break up a cold I had, and that I was pretty sure that was one of those problems white people have. Folks, my black friend confirmed that my suspicions are correct. He would have just boiled water in a pan and stood over it. I love my friend.

* People who work for our state are all kinds of special. I was talking to a very nice woman on the phone and explicitly asked her if she needed paperwork from December. She told me no. Sure enough, a week later I got a snarky worded little letter in the mail about how we had talked about this, and I didn't alert her that I had paperwork from December, but I needed to send it. Somewhere, someone crossed a few wires in her brain, but at least she's not eating too many bitch cookies like the Social Security lady. She was a joy.

* Sometimes typing late at night is not a good idea. While working on my novel, I ended up with a very inappropriate typo that I was tempted not to fix. Instead of saying, "She didn't want to give away his horror and his pain," I typed, "She didn't want to give away his horror and his pants." I would hope she wouldn't be giving away someone's pants. Darn you, dirty story character. You weren't meant to be written that way.

* Gay guys are a girl's best friend. You can't deny it.

* I love my grandfather. I will always love my grandfather to the day I die and beyond. But he was a huge golf fan, and I just can't see the point in watching golf, other than if I need assistance falling asleep. I do, however, wonder what would happen if a small animal jumped out and scared the heebies out of a golfer. I'd watch that.

* While going through some of the area that I hadn't been since the tornado hit, we found a billboard that had been knocked over in the storm. It was advertising a business that could help you if you had an accident. That sign needs to call that business. Even nature knows and appreciates irony.

* I'm so confused about something. I adore Panic! at the Disco. It's also fitting with Brendon's personality that the exclamation mark came back. Brendon has consistently been one of the stronger male singers in a world of Justin Biebers, so color me shocked when I realized that all this time that he had been singing songs Ryan Ross wrote, he was amazing. Now that he's writing his own songs, he can't sing them live to save his life. How does that happen? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying he's bad, but compared to how I'm used to him sounding with clean and strong vocals, it's a little jarring.

But, you guys, what is up with his hair? I get that he's losing it. I do, but this is like some newfangled old man comb over. He keeps the sides and back short, and the front long to comb over where his hair in thinning. I realize he has a tough family life, but can't someone volunteer to be his mother in this case?

* Predictive Google and myself have a long history of inefficiency. I'll just leave it at that.

* Mom: "It rains a lot in the Amazon."
Me: "That's probably because it's a rain forest."

* Answer me something. Do people really buy brand new wardrobes every season and throw out their old ones? Because that just sounds preposterous to me.

* Joe Mantegna was on The Talk the other day to discuss autism in children, since his daughter, Mia, is autistic. While he was on there, a man whose one child, a son, was also autistic was there. At the end of the show, Holly Robinson Peete wanted to give a gift to the man and his children, so she had them come out. His autistic son came and sat to his one side, his non autistic child next to Joe. She proceeded to pet Joe's arm. I love that little girl. She was maybe ten.

* Explain to me spending six hours a day on couponing. I get trying to save money, and I, too, am a fan of the coupon, but six hours a day? These women claim they have too much to do to work so they need the coupons to save money, but essentially clipping coupons for six hours a day is working. People are crazy, yeah?

* Men, afraid of shit that wouldn't faze a woman since the beginning of time. Where are my ladies at?

* The other day I realized that I've never, ever hurt myself doing anything dangerous. When I hurt myself it's doing something like walking, sitting, or opening an envelope. We're talking serious hurt, too. But I could probably sky dive, my parachute wouldn't deploy, and I'd hit the ground gently on my feet, defying all laws of gravity. That's just the kind of humor my life has.

* I've mentioned before that I detest the character of Ashley Seaver on Criminal Minds, but Rachel Nichols is easily the most adorable person ever. Seriously, follow her on Twitter. It's weird how I can hate a character so much and only know her for that character, but still find her delightful.

* Breakout Kings has grown on me and I look forward to watching it. Although I was upset that Philly got only one episode, I quickly decided that Erica was the highlight of the show. Her beating up Lloyd nearly immediately upon her entrance was a win. Plus, she just epitomizes the fact that men are scared of shit that wouldn't faze a woman. Team Erica!

* For some reason, I was watching Divorce Court today. Let's never bring this up again. The only reason I am is because the one guy who was on there was clearly the funniest guy in the world. He said, and I quote verbatim, "Every single day she act like me being short is something new." If his wife doesn't want him, I'll take him. I don't think I want to actually date him or anything, but I could use the laughs.

* If you ever buy one of those treadmills with iFit custom workouts wondering what kind of a workout it could really give you and laughing cheerily about how you're going to fly right through those workouts, immediately return it before assembling. I decided to try out one of their workouts for myself today. I did the full planned course in fifteen minutes, but I was sweating and beginning to think the machine was trying to kill me. It controls your speed and your incline, and I totally didn't realize you could get that kind of a workout from a treadmill. I mean, Non Bridesmaidzilla and myself walk three miles when we walk in the summer, no problem, no sweat, and there's not even any tears, but I almost surrendered to a treadmill on a seven tenths of a mile trail. That's illegal somewhere, right?

Shane

Here in Pennsylvania, we are known for odd news stories, as I've shared before. I would like to share two more with you, both that were reported within the same half an hour newscast.

* A guy was found dead this morning in someone's front yard. He had been shot. Upon being sent to the medical examiner, it was quickly determined he had been dead for several days.

Let me just ask you something real quick. How do you not notice the dead guy in your front yard for days? DAYS! The people whose yard he was in apparently had nothing to do with killing him, if that helps clear anything up for you. And by clear anything up, I mean if that confuses you more and makes you wonder where their glasses have been for DAYS!

* Two cousins were arrested in West Virginia for stealing a mass amount of beef jerky that they had planned to sell for gas money.

Dear West Virginians, please stop wondering why there's a specific stereotype attached to you. You covered more than one stereotype in this alone.

In the midst of texting these news stories to Original Becky who, sadly, was trapped in the work lunchroom and had no way of hearing these exciting news stories, she texted me the following.

"My friend loves Shane. Please kill me."

I sat there trying to figure out who in the heck Shane was and why I cared that her friend liked him for several minutes. Then I remembered this. (Paraphrased so you don't have to sift through the junk.)

Original Becky: I don't know if you like Lady Gaga or not...but I don't, lol.
Me: I hate her.
Me: She's certifiable.
Me: She's not Shane.
Me: *sane
Me: No, she's not Shane either.
Original Becky: HAHAHAHAHA MAYBE SHE IS!
Original Becky: OR HE!
Me: MAYBE SHANE IS HER REAL NAME!
Me: OMG, WE'RE ON TO SOMETHING!
Original Becky: WE DISCOVERED IT!

Just in case you were all wondering about her true identity, Original Becky and I just fixed that for you. You're welcome.

When I first saw this video, I was horrified. I had this happen to me in April of 2008. I had not felt well, my vision was blurry, I had a headache and a sharp pain in my left side behind my heart. I thought I was just tired, or having an off day. Then I went to answer the phone and couldn't say anything at all. Everything I wanted to say didn't come out. It was like I was watching what happened to myself happen to someone on live TV. I was mortified for her. Then they diagnosed her with this. Two weeks ago today I was diagnosed with the exact same thing. Every time in the last two weeks that I've told people many of my issues are coming from migraines, they've looked at me funny. Now, as sad as the situation may be, there's heavily covered media proof that this does happen from migraines. I'm sorry it took this happening to this poor girl, as I know she had to be scared, too, for people to stop thinking migraines aren't a big deal.

As promised, a continuation with said pictures of the week.

Today, In a Backwards World...

We had ourselves an adventure Friday. Unfortunately, said adventure pooped me right the heck out, so as soon as my brain catches up to the amount of awesome in Friday's story, I will be sharing it all with you. For now, just a few things that have nothing to do with each other.

I felt it okay to say all of these things at some point in the day.

- "I look like a man without a padded bra" needs to be the name of a song or a band.
- OMG! It should be a band that names a song that, too!

- That was like unicorns, and Care Bears, and puppy dogs with cute little bows in their hair.

- You're going to laugh at me, but the girl in this movie is so unbelievably gorgeous that I'm considering watching it.
- That's worse than it sounds, right?

I worry about me sometimes. There was nothing on, so I turned on this movie with the absolute worse description I could find, because you all know how I like myself some really shitty movies. When nothing is on, I find the movie with the worst description, but for the first time I think I found one that was just way too ridiculous for me. It was as follows, and I quote, "stranded friends encounter supernatural scarecrows at an isolated farmhouse." This from the girl who watched a movie with a description about a camp counselor with a sex change who murdered people. And laughed. I know, guys. And it's always the horror movies that are the funniest, but I digress.

I turned the scarecrow movie on to find it actually had good reviews online upon looking it up, which, despite the too stupid description, made me not want to watch it, but there was nothing else on. I was trying to convince myself to shut up and watch it, but the guys weren't cute. The girl was unbelievably gorgeous, though. I mean, I'm straight and I thought that. I still didn't really watch it because, as it turns out, the movie was actually pretty decent and I wasn't in the mood for decent, and, again, I'm also straight. If I were a guy, I would have watched it. Oh, and for the record, the girl bit it first in the movie, as in the first couple of minutes. The girl never bites it first. She was the only girl. I'm very confused.

- Call me stupid, but I just realized I'm sitting on the floor for no reason. There's room on the couch.

Stupid. There, I did it for you.

- Aww man, they're bleeping out all the good words in this movie. The girls just said, "He tried to me, so I kicked in him the."

- I've noticed if I hear a really bad country song sung by a male, I make fun of it, unless it's by Garth Brookes, then I respect it.

- When I die, I'm not going to come back and touch people.
- Move their things around and annoy them? Yes. Touch them? No.

I watched the cutest movie ever today. The description made it sound really stupid, but I decided to turn it on since it was on Hallmark. Look, the only bad movies I like are horror movies. Otherwise, the movies are just bad and not funny whatsoever. Color me pleasantly surprised when the movie actually ended up being the cutest movie I've seen since the last really cute movie I've seen.

After I realized that scarecrow movie really was too good for me to watch, I found some movie that I thought for sure would really suck. However, I watched about five minutes of it and realized it was based on actual events, so I immediately had to leave it on. It was a highly fictionalized version of it, highly, but this did actually happen.

In the late forties, a group of children on their way to school were struck and killed when their bus stalled on the tracks. The urban legend is that if you go to the tracks and put your car in neutral, it will roll back down the hill and away from the tracks and those are the children pushing you. I hate to burst everyone's bubble, but it's actually an optical illusion that the road is flat. It slopes downhill, but the foliage slopes uphill, making the road seem even. This was investigated thoroughly. You all know I love a good ghost story. Hell, they love me, too, but this one was purely gobbledygook, even though those poor children did pass.

What I like about the movie is that they added several different elements to it that actually made sense and worked with the original, true story, which made it interesting and was well done. Damn all three of you movies for faking me out with your bad descriptions and promos! I expected bad movies and you gave me good! I don't know what to think of this!

I was a victim of auto-correct today. I'd like to say the unfortunate victim, but I actually think it was a little fortunate because it made me laugh. Last night, Original Becky was telling me about an episode of Law and Order: SVU where this little kid thought his dad was sick because his mom said he had "dirty whore." He thought dirty whore was a disease. I love that kid. Anyway, Original Becky texted me to fill in me in on a mistake she made in presenting the storyline to me last night, and here's what happened.

* Ooh. Ooh. Okay, but still. Damn dirty shore disease.

Yep, my phone doesn't like the word whore, so it decided shore was better. Luckily, I thought I recovered from it quite nicely.

* Damn auto-correct. Too bad it didn't correct the first word to Jersey, because that show is a horrible disease.

Last, but certainly not least, I am going to answer Zoey's question left in the last post's comments. The Superbowl, or the pooperbowl, as I prefer to call it, is the end of the season football game. US teams play each other until the two best teams are left, and they face off against each other in what is called the Superbowl. It's like a religion here. I don't particularly like football, so I just plan to do things during it knowing no one else will be out. I also secretly hope they lose so I can actually hear the news the following day, instead of listening to a full newscast of coverage about all the Superbowl win parties. Oops, the secret's out.

Ringo Was the Drummer

Each day, I find myself continually amazed by the ridiculous that is bestowed upon us by my grand ole' state of Pennsylvania and by myself. Even though I poke a little fun at Pennsylvaniaisms, I have also fallen victim to them myself. I am not exempt. We are super special people out here in Pennsylvania.

There is a chain of restaurants that spreads Pennsylvania, Eastern Ohio and Northern West Virginia. They are a Pennsylvanian owned and based private company. They are open twenty four hours a day. This is not excluding Christmas, Thanksgiving and Easter. However, they sent out a mass email today informing us they would be closing Sunday so that the employees could go home and watch the Superbowl. So what they're saying is that spending holidays with your family is not important, but watching football is? I'm so confused.

Directly after that, I had an epic fail of my own. One of my favorite websites is Very Demotivational. Some of these are knee-slap funny. On the same hand, some bite, but it's worth sifting through the ones that bite for the ones that are truly hysterical, such as one containing an article about The Beatles. It said something along the lines of, "George was the spirit, Lennon was the soul, Paul was the heart, and Ringo was the drummer." This was from a real newspaper article. The caption beneath it said "Ringo: He was the drummer." Anytime I find a lull in a conversation, I'm just going to say that Ringo was the drummer, and then laugh hysterically, while the other person just stares at me like I'm a loony toon. But I digress.

There was also a picture on there with a colored gentleman, who was passed out on the sidewalk, in a position that made him look as though he had overdosed, surrounded by a Kentucky Fried Chicken bucket, a McDonald's soda cup and watermelon. The last one confuses me, too. He was also well dressed, except for one thing, he was wearing white shoes.

This is the part where I feel I must explain to any new readers that I'm not racist. If you read this blog enough, you'll learn I'm the furthest thing from racist. I just have a habit of saying stupid things that therefore make me sound stupid, and then I share them, because once you get to know my sense of humor, you realize why I think it's funny when it's probably really not.

In fact, let me take a moment to tell you all about two of my favorite people in the world before we go and do something crazy, such as get back on subject or something. My one friend is a six foot something, intimidatingly built black man. He is terrified of horror movies and will not hesitate to literally lunge himself under the seat in a theater if a scene comes about that even looks as though it may be frightening. He will openly admit to this quark, too. He is friends with another one of my friends who is a five foot eight, at best, nerdy white guy with nerdy white guy glasses, whose weight probably rivals a pipe cleaner. When people try to push him around because of this, instead of getting angry, he looks at them and, with a very serious face, says "Is this because I'm black? It's because I'm black, isn't it?" This becomes especially effective when he does it while said black friend is standing next to him and commenting on how that has to be the reason. Then, they both calmly claim they are brothers and walk away. It's fantastic. You can see why these two are two of my favorite people.

So when I first saw this picture and thought the white shoes on the man were actually a cast on his leg, I thought this was totally normal. When my mom looked at me as if I had unicorns growing out of my ears, I explained to her that, since the man was black and wearing all dark clothing, I assumed he'd wear shoes to match so that they didn't stand out. I know now that I don't have a leg to stand on here, and am apparently a terrible, terrible person. In my defense, my black friend never wears white shoes because he thinks they stand out too much, so take that, accidental racial profiling! Take that.

Just a little while ago, my mom was flipping through the television for something to watch. She was upset that Billy the Exterminator wasn't on, and joked that his brother was hot. God, I hope she was joking. Anyway, she finds this show that I take it was on Discover or something to that effect. It was a documentary. It sounded strange, and just as I was about to inquire about it, she started telling the television off. Yes, telling the television off. Apparently it was a show chock full of historians trying to prove that aliens actually wrote the Bible in an attempt to take over humanity. She thought they were kidding in the description, so she turned it on to see. They were not. They were all very, very serious about this.

If you believe that aliens wrote the Bible, more power to you, but I'm not about to break out my tinfoil hats just yet. Not that all alien believers wear tinfoil hats. I mean, I believe there's life on other planets; just a personal opinion and all, and I don't wear tinfoil hats. They never match my outfit. And there I go accidentally offending an entire group of people's beliefs again.

I Like Ducks

There's not a whole lot to report today, so I'm just going to bring on the most random things I can think that have happened in the past twenty four hours and call it a day.

* My mom has a new client whose house is extremely messy and dirty. The lady won't clean it because she is unable, or so she says, but she goes bowling every week, sometimes more, with her bowling league. My mom was concerned it would chase buyers away. Today, another agent had a showing of the house. The people walked in and pretty much walked right back out. It's still up in the air over if it was because of how dirty the house was or not.

* My neighbors keep trying to get on my internet...still, but I am able to block them before they get access. This doesn't stop them. They stopped trying for awhile, but now are back at it and failing every single time they try. Each time, within three minutes of me blocking them out before they worm their way in, I hear them out there slamming their house door, stomping down their wooden steps, and slamming their car doors. If I look out my window, they're all in a huff. That's right, bitches, go get your internet elsewhere or decide to pay for it. Pick one, but stop using mine. However, if you want to keep trying, you will keep failing because I have this under control now, which is great for me because I find it really funny when you get angry and leave because you can't get into something you're not paying for, when you could just pay for it and get it over with. They probably waste more in gas leaving to go somewhere that they can get the internet, than they would just paying for it themselves. People make me lol.

* I don't think Bloglovin' and I are going to get along. I thought we had resolved things, but I think they were pretending like they resolved things thinking I wouldn't find out they didn't. At first, they updated my blog every few days all nice like. Now they're more than a week behind, the original post dates are all wrong, and they're seven, soon to be eight posts behind. Oh, and because they're not updating my blog on their site, the number of posts I have a week are going down. Why is this? Because they're not updating on their sight, even though I'm updating my very own blog, so now it's looking like I don't post as much as I do because they're lazy. I would have no problem with this site if it was on a feed, but the fact that they physically update my blog on their site when they feel like it seems really ridiculous, and also makes me feel like it's not my blog anymore. I never gave them permission to physically post my blog on their site. In fact, I have asked them twice to take it off, and they pretended to update it and now have stopped pretending.

I know it seems like I'm making a big ordeal out of something little and stupid, and maybe I am, but I like to have control over my blog. They're my words, my way of connecting with all of you out there, and it's deeply personal to me. When another site places my blog on their site without permission and then proceeds to do whatever they would like with it, therefore altering it to come up that I don't post when I do and what not, I just don't appreciate it. I like my little blog in my own personal world, with my own control over it. Maybe that's childish and protective, but this blog is my heart.

* I got Bolt browser for my Blackberry since the one that came with it kept locking me out, not loading pages, etc. It is all kinds of awesome!

* I was filling out the paperwork that was mailed to me for a new doctor's appointment today. They asked me all kinds of questions that I thought they needed to buy me dinner before asking. Some of them had absolutely nothing to do with my medical condition at all and were strictly personal. My favorite was my marital status. I understand that they ask this, and then proceed to ask you for your spouse's information to contact in case of an emergency, if applicable. Only, they didn't do that. They just asked me my marital status and that was it. What does that have to do with my health? In close second was when they asked me what I was coming to see the doctor for. He is a headache specialist. His practice is called The Headache Center. Obviously, I was going there for va-jay-jay pain. I yelled, swore, and then by the end of it concluded that filling out that paperwork was like being anal probed by over enthusiastic aliens.

* Dr. Phil totally said, and I quote, "He took his mic off, threw it down and told me to do something that isn't anatomically possible." Instead of telling people to go eff themselves, I'm now going to tell them to go do something that isn't anatomically possible. If it's good enough for Dr. Phil, it's good enough for me.