So Glad You Asked

Today I thought I would take a moment and post the answers from my recent FormSpring questions, with explanations. Yes, I'm now officially making a conundrum out of a simple thing such as FormSpring. But it's me, so you all knew this was coming eventually.

You also may or may not notice, but most of these questions are from the FormSpring question generator. I could lie about that, but why? I like answering questions, and no one but the amazing Zoe seems to be asking them, so I'm not above making FormSpring ask me questions to answer. In fact, it makes me kind of happy.

But seriously, guys, feel free to ask me any question you want to ask me. I even answer questions about ducks. (I realize I talk about ducks a lot and never explained that it's an inside joke from my novel. Not that my novel is about ducks, but it's an inside joke between two of the characters. This will make sense eventually, I promise.) I am working on getting my Facebook and what not linked up to FormSpring, it's just that I know some really hilarious people that would ask me some pretty inappropriate things, which is the reason I haven't done so yet. But I like questions...clean questions, about anything other than dirty things. Really.

This first question comes from Zoe and it's not a question. I love Zoe, in case you couldn't tell. Oh, and questions are in bold, answers in italiacs. I think you all could have figured that out yourselves, but I'm always here to over-help, which may be counterproductive. It's like over-sharing, only more lame.

LOVE YOU.

I love you more! You are incredible!

The rest of these FormSpring asked me. FormSpring and I are getting to be pretty good friends, which isn't at all creepy, and completely possible.

Who's the smartest person you know?

Does it have to be a person? Because my dog can outsmart just about every human I've met. She's a little con artist, she is.

This was an unfair question, really. This is no offense to anyone I know, but that's just the way it is. I am preparing a post about Greta Hayley's con-artist abilities, so soon you will understand why I say she is the smartest person I know. I'm not totally convinced she's a dog. Not at all.

Who's the most underrated actor?

Jackson Rathbone or Matthew Gray Gubler

Did you feel a rant coming with this one? You did? Oh, you all know me so well. I'm tickled. But not literally. I hate being tickled. Anyway...I realize I cheated and gave a double answer on this one, but I couldn't just pick one. I would say I am indecisive, but I can't decide whether I am or not. Therefore, I will explain why I picked two. If you really don't want to hear this and hate these two, I understand. Take a nap. I'll wake you when this explanation, i.e. rant, is over. Promise.

Let's start with Matthew Gray Gubler, or MGG, if you will, because I've mentioned him on here before, and fewer of you know him. He's not one of those actors that you look at and immediately fall head over heels for his gorgeousness. It's just not him. He's not bad looking by any means, and he used to be a model, but he's just not...I don't know, Jensen Ackles. He is, however, a lead character on the show Criminal Minds. (What you people did to poor AJ Cook and Paget Brewster was wrong, CBS. Boo!) On the show, he plays an autistic genius FBI agent with no social skills, and really bad jokes. You read all of that right. His performance is flawlessly stellar, so much so that I think you automatically imagine that he acts like this in real life. Then take into consideration that this was his first ever acting role where he wasn't just in the background, and it shows he's got talent, especially when he never set out to be an actor. I can't imagine it would be easy to pay an autistic genius FBI agent, especially with some of the ridiculously long words, lines, and uncut rants that he does. He's completely flown under the radar for quite awhile and is totally underrated. This scene is really one of the scenes where you can get a good overall feel for his character, and his total, absolute cluelessness to popular culture, that MGG pulls off flawlessly. It also segues us nicely into our next actor.

I know the moment I say Jackson Rathbone, at least two hundred Twi-hards are going to scream at one time. Yes, he is the guy that plays Jasper in the Twilight Saga. I'll give all of you Twi-hards a few minutes to stop screaming, because what I'm going to say next is probably going to hurt your little hearts. I want to be sorry...but meh. Look, I like Twilight, too, but Jasper doesn't really get enough screen time to show off anyone's acting skills. He kind of stands there quietly and looks like he's in pain. I wasn't completely impressed here people, sorry. Plus, the blonde hair on him, not so cute. If I suddenly stop mid blog, it's because I was murdered by some Twi-hards. Call the cops. Thanks.

And now that I've pointed out that I didn't really even notice Jasper in Twilight, I would like to point out this clip from Criminal Minds. We all know I love that show, and not long after seeing Twilight I saw this episode of Criminal Minds. I was so completely blown away by the duel performance of the actor who played both a guy and a girl. Yes, the girl talking at the beginning, that's totally Jackson. In fact, he made a better girl than me during the course of the show, which is in no way a cut at him. I'm jealous. I'm not going to lie. After the show I was so impressed that I immediately had to look up who played the character(s). Imagine my surprise when I realized it was that dude who played Jasper in Twilight. Yeah. Not only does he not look the same at all, but holy hell the kid can act. Seriously, why is he doing parts like Twilight and The Last Airbender? This kid is completely the next big thing and no one knows it yet. Plus, he's completely adorable, and although I'm disturbed a little by how much he and MGG look alike, he's just a little (a lot) cuter. Sorry, MGG. Just...sorry. Also, I like really unique people, and correct me if I'm wrong, but one of his parents is a native of Indonesia and the other is a native of Singapore, correct? I heard that in some interview somewhere. Specific, I know. I know some Twi-hard will come along and correct me if I'm wrong. Correct me snarkily and don't kill me for the above, and call it even, okay? Thanks.

Also, for any of you who fell asleep so you didn't have to listen to that rant, you can wake up now. Oh, and I don't blame you for snoozing on my parade.

If you could date any celebrity, who would it be?

This is an odd question to ask me, FormSpring question generator. If I don't know said celebrity, how would I know if I wanted to date them? That's creepy. I mean, I guess we could go by looks, but looks never gets anyone anywhere. I have no fantasy celebrity date because I have to know the person's heart because I can date them.

What celebrity would play you in a movie about your life?

Honestly, probably Kristen Stewart. I realize this probably sounds dumb, because a lot of people think I hate her. I don't, I just think she's a little dull. However, she and I carry the same level of excitement in drastic situations, so I think if things went south, she would shrug her shoulders and go along with it. That's why she would have to play me. But if we're going by who I would pick to play me on personality and talent alone, I would have to say Lucy Hale.

I'm waiting for the shock of me saying Kristen Stewart and me in the same paragraph. I do realize most people think I hate her. Here's my reasoning for saying I think she would be the right person to play me. First, she was the first person to come to mind, and not because she's also in Twilight. I'm not wild about Bella whatsoever, so boo. Yep, definitely getting whacked by a Twi-hard before this blog is over. I love you, Twi-hards. Please don't kill me. It's just that she's so very calm about everything, almost to the point of boredom, and doesn't really give a crap about what people say. I'm far from dull, but when faced with a really terrifying situation, I usually become very dull instead of freaking out, which is really a key in what it would take to play me. I mean, while I was working one night we were robbed at gunpoint, and at another job a very bad situation happened that I'm sure would have ended a lot worse had an off duty police officer, who we didn't know was an off duty police officer, just happened to be on his way out of the store and feel like something wasn't right. I will tell these stories later, but I've lived an interesting life with a lot of odd things that had happened. Instead of being shocked in these situations, I became completely calm. Kristen could so play me because I think she'd represent the real me well.

As for Lucy Hale, I realize a lot of people don't know her, and she's way cuter than me, but I'm okay with that, because you always want to look cuter in your own movie. I just think she's adorable. If I could pick someone to play me, it would totally be her. That's how I'd want to come off on screen. And if my book ever gets optioned out for a movie, she'd be the perfect girl to play my lead character. Yes, I've thought about this. That's kind of sad, right?

What one thing are you exceptionally bad at?

Bowling. I am so exceptionally bad at it, that I define the meaning of the phrase "exceptionally bad." My friend and I once bowled against a drunk guy. Our scores combined lost out to his by a good forty points. If that isn't exceptional, I don't know what is. However, I also have exceptional amounts of fun losing exceptionally bad, so it's fitting.

True story, folks. True story. I love you, Becky. Let's go bowl badly soon!

What was your first paying job?

I've owned a pet-sitting business since I was seventeen. Some of my first paying jobs were hugging peoples' pets. Not a bad way to go. The care that pets require is far outweighed by the love they give.

I have a ton of stories about my pet-sitting days to tell. I promise I will get around to them one day that comes hopefully sooner than later. I have lots of stories to tell, folks.

What's the secret to happiness?

Knowing who you are, and then understanding and accepting it. Everything else will fall into place around that.

What YouTube video made you laugh recently?

This one, because it's a kitty eating ice cream. Everyone loves kitties and ice cream. If you don't you're just a big meanie, or allergic to cats. Together they are pure bliss.

Okay, that's all for now. But really, guys, ask me questions. Your questions probably won't require long drawn out rants. If that's not incentive, I don't know what is. Oh God, I'm trying to get you guys to ask me questions by offering incentives. I feel like a used car salesman. I'm sorry.

Friends In the Willow Tree

I am slow at getting around to doing a lot of things that I need to do, and I apologize for that. I have a boring, albeit busy life, and sometimes I take time for my novel when I should take time for my friends. I am honest and forever apologetic about this, because I truly do love my friends. Some of them are the best part of me.

A few weeks back, the lovely Vivi posted a beautifully heartfelt entry speaking of friendship and how much she appreciated my friendship. I would like to do the same for her because she is an incredible person with a huge heart. I would also like to recognize one of my other dear, sweet friends who inspires me everyday with her blog and her words.

Vivi
I have not known you all that long, but it feels like forever in all the good ways. You were incredible enough to leave a comment on my blog, and I am grateful that you did, because through that, I have made a truly special friend. And I promise it's not the weird kind of special where you lick windows or anything, but the inspirational, heart to heart kind of special where I know I can share anything with you.

With everything you say, and every breath you take, I swear you do it just to inspire someone else. You've been through the darkness, and came out on the other side with a give them hell attitude. It takes a hell of a woman to do that, and in the face of someone trying to break you down, you just laugh and carry on your way. Although you are battle scarred, you only share those scars with those who you know will understand, and leave a smiling, honest face for everyone else to see, and people in need to turn to. You give so much of yourself and ask for so little in return.

It's in hearts like yours where the weary and lost find solace, and everyone can connect on a level playing field. This may sound funny, but you're one of those people who reminds me of a family dinner. Not the really twisted ones where everyone fights, but the ones you see in the picture perfect movies; everyone at the table having heart to hearts with their family and healing wounds. You heal wounds. You fight through it, and give others the strength to do so just by being there.

You and I are so much alike in so many ways, especially with the gift we both posses. Never have I met anyone like you, who understands what it's like and isn't afraid. You accept it for what it is, and you learn and grow from it. You don't hate it, or reject it. You simply try to understand it. I didn't realize how much I needed someone like you in my life, because all of my life I've felt alone in this. I thank you for listening to me and helping me out, and I hope that one day I can do the same for you.

I'm going to leave you with a quote that you will understand in a way no one else really can, and laugh. It's from Benjamin Franklin. "Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead." Easily an understandable quote, but for you and I, that takes a new meaning. Even if the two are dead, it doesn't mean they kept that secret, does it?

Zoe
You are easily one of my favorite people ever. Easily. You're so lighthearted and you know the meaning of going with the flow and being a good friend. You're not a throwaway friend, or the kind who even knows the meaning of the word. You're actually one of the better friends I have, as odd as that may sound, considering the distance from you to me. No matter what, you always take the time out of your day to say hey, or comment on my blog, or a million other little things you do that make you an amazing friend. I simply wish I could be that thoughtful and amazing.

You possess something that a handful of people do, which is the mind of an enigmatic heart, and the ability to put the pen to paper. Few authors make me want to jump out of my seat in anticipation for their novels. You are one of them. I can't imagine being your age and having as much drive and maturity as you do. It humbles me to know that someone like you exists, and to know that you will succeed. Failing will never be an option for you because you have what it takes to get everything you want, and you won't stop until you do. This is a beautiful thing, so unique to who you are and you must hold on to it, but not too tight, just tight enough to make sure it never slips away.

I wish I could go back ten years and wrangle what you have inside of you for myself. There's this never ending light that exudes from your being. You let people see you for who you are; so unafraid. I know that you've been hurt, and your heart has been bruised, but you've bounced back. When so many girls would be crying in their room for days on end, and going into their own little fantasy world of fairy tales and princes that will never come, you face reality. You put your head up high and walk right through the doors of life, knowing you will succeed. It takes a hell of a woman; one a million, you might say.

This may seem trivial, but I also love your taste in music. It's like you're this old soul in this young body. You have a lot to teach, and people have a lot to learn from you. You define the quote of "where there is love, there is life." You are full of both.

The Boy In Your Head

My friend and I were talking today. She reminds me so much of myself in so many ways, but particularly when it comes to boys. She usually sees right through every situation they try to pull, and she wonders if what she really wants is a husband because she's stable being by herself. She doesn't need anyone to make her whole. I, too, share in that notion.

There will always be a boy who will come along and drive you crazy out of your mind. That doesn't mean you'll be crazy emotionally attracted to him, or your lifestyles intertwine in a symphony of pure bliss. He will just simply drive you crazy out of your mind. Most of the time, you won't even know why. You'll do and think silly things because of this boy knowing that it would never work out, and never really try to date this boy because you knew this from point one. After some time, you'll realize you can't deny your feelings, and in an attempt to patch together a broken situation and a dented heart, you do what you have to do to clear your head.

Sometimes that comes in the form of writing letter. In my experience, writing can heal absolutely everything. Even if you never give the person that letter, getting it out accounts for everything. And if you do give the person that letter, you do it knowing that you're strong enough to handle that they will most likely reject the situation and nothing is going to happen. You also know that most likely, they won't ever bring up said letter, and your friendship is most likely over. You simply do it to empower yourself and walk away knowing that things are done, finite.

You also have to prepare yourself for the possibility that the person will want to talk to you about the letter you wrote. This is where things get a little hinky, because you have to learn to read between the lines when this happens to keep yourself from getting hurt further. You may feel that you owe the person something because you wrote them a letter, but you do not, in fact, owe them a thing. Writing them that letter was opening up your entire heart to them and giving them all you could. You can't give them more. The ball is in their court and you were clear you didn't expect anything out of them. They shouldn't expect anything out of you.

There's a lot that can be said about the way that the person goes about contacting you about talking about the letter. The best outcome would be if they contacted you in the first week and wanted to talk. It tells you that, as soon as they got that letter and read it, they knew exactly how they felt, one way or another, and they just had to sit down and really have a heart to heart with you. They are serious about doing this, they got a hold of you the first real chance they got to present the situation, and they don't want to handle the letter immaturely, even if what they have to say is something they know you don't want to hear. They care about the letter, and subsequently about you, and want to settle things maturely between you.

Depending on the person, there are also some people who need to take things in and think about them before dealing with them. If you know the person well enough to have any kind of feelings for them, and certainly ones strong enough to write them a letter, you will know if they are that kind of person. If you don't hear from them in the first week, it's okay, because you simply know they are thinking and processing. If the letter receiver is not a thinker, let me be honest, they either do not want to handle the situation at all, or they are only going to eventually contact you to handle it because they feel like they have to. That never will be worth your time, or theirs, and will never end well. The part of you that was only dented, and then healed by that letter, can end up fractured.

If your person is one who needs time to think, it's okay. However, if I've learned anything it's that those people are often slow to think are finite in their decision once they've come to a conclusion. If they decide to bridge the gap and bring up the letter, they will not do so until they've made their decision about what exactly it is they want to say. They will usually ask to talk with you soon, wanting to get what weeks of thinking has built up, out of them and passed on to you.

It's also been my experience that when a thinker contacts you about a situation as such, but then doesn't want to see you for several more weeks, it's because they have made their decision and it requires them lying to themselves. They would not have contacted you without making a decision and knowing how they are going to deal with things. Now they need the time to figure out how they are going to face you and lie to not only you, but themselves.

When deciding if you want to get together with this person, there's certain things to think about, because often times your feelings can veil the reality of the situation. You have to ask yourself that, if you knew the person was one hundred percent going to tell you they didn't feel the same way, if you would still want to go and talk to them. You have to know the answer to that. You also have to be prepared for the latter and be prepared to have a plan either way. A thinker who took weeks to get together with you after contacting you about the situation knows what he or she wants, and expects you to have the answers to whatever situation they present you with.

You also have to remember that, if you go and the situation brings up all your feelings that you finally fought down to a baseline, it's ultimately doing you no good. If you know he's just telling you he doesn't want to be with you because he can't handle his own feelings, seeing you again is ultimately doing him no good either. In the end, all you can do is follow your heart, but don't put your head behind the line of contention because you want happily ever after. That doesn't exist. But if you find someone who is just right for you, in the imperfections you can find something so much better.

I also just wanted to update you all on the Friend situation. I'm fine with the way everything happened. Oddly enough, a few days after I posted the letter on the blog, I started to get the impression that he had read it, although I'll never be sure. We talked for awhile, and it was just in the things he said. Now, suddenly, we just don't talk anymore. We don't hate each other. I know we are still friends, but now we're quiet friends. I know our relationship well enough to know that we will talk again one day, but when we do, it will just be as friends. It will be when we are ready to be just friend and can truly handle it without feelings flying everywhere. We are adjusting ourselves properly. We just couldn't go about things the way we were, because if we would have, a lot of messes would have been made and a lot of people would have been hurt. Sometimes things truly do work out with a touch of perfection, and through the pain, you find yourself and come out a better, happier person.

An Author's Fairy Tale

It's here, folks. The moment you've been waiting for. The moment of excitement. The moment you probably didn't even know about until now. I have a website. *EEP!*

Cassadee Willows: An Author's Fairy Tale

Texting the Aliens That Kidnapped Denise

Alright you crazy kids, I am back and ready to lick the world, which is probably how I got sick in the first place. I didn't expect to be back quite yet, but I'm feeling better today. I will spare you the details of why I wasn't feeling so swell because it's a bit icky, and I take pride in not gicking everyone out.

I want to address two things before I get into this post. One is that you are all probably wondering why I posted a Greta Hayley Says post instead of just proofing a post I already had finished. That's easy; Greta Hayley Says posts are short and take a quarter of the time to post than it does for me to proofread my super long posts. And two, Vivi, I did not forget about you. I promise I am going to do a blog about how awesome you are. I want to do it when I'm fully aware and able to truly tell you how I feel about your awesomeness and not half ass it. I promise it is coming.

About a year ago I wrote two blogs, both about cute, fun stories and life experiences that were random and I had accumulated over the years. I thought I posted what I had written, but their word files were in my to be posted folder, and I went through my blog and couldn't find where I had posted them anywhere. Therefore, you shall be graced or mortified by them now; whichever you choose. When reading, please keep in mind that I wrote these a year ago. They will make more sense.

And seriously, who takes a year to post something? Gees!

I want to tell you a story about about my favorite person, Aunt Bev, and her accomplice, my Mom. I really think if you’ve ever, for whatever reason, missed any of my Aunt Bev and Mom stories, this should catch you all up when it comes to understanding exactly what I am dealing with when it comes to the two of them, or even one of them, for that matter.

My mom is absolutely and completely technology inept. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned that, but what makes it especially funny is that she is a trained technician and worked for Verizon repairing internal phone lines for several years. She’s not stupid by any means, but she is often befuddled totally by today’s advances in technology.

She can use the computer, but if anything out of the ordinary pops up, such as a download suggestion, or the computer freezes, etc, she has no idea what to do. She doesn’t have enough common knowledge of the programs on the computers to make a judgment call, so I’m always close by when she needs to use the computer.

With this is mind, do you want to guess what she just got....

A cell phone. (Like I said, I wrote this a year ago. She now has a whole new cell phone which she has an equal amount of trouble working.)

I think the only thing she’s worse with than a computer would have to be a cell phone. The small buttons, the programs, and the whole thing in general just befuddles the heck out of her. She doesn’t now enough about cell phones to make a judgment call or educated guess as to how to work one, but she tries. I find this funny considering she worked at Verizon for so many years, but I’m assured that working inside on home phones is much different than dealing with a cell phone.

I should back up and say that I’m really grateful she has a cell phone, as there’s been several times I’ve wanted to get a hold of her while she was gone, being that I was sick, or just something urgent in general, and had not been able to. Aunt Bev ever so graciously invested in this cell phone for my mom, and we both really appreciate her for that, among many other things. Essentially, my mom having a cell phone is a good thing. Her using it; not so much.

The only thing worse than her using it; her setting it up.

Let me clarify something. In this household, when it comes to technology I am the Abby Sciuto, and she is the Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs of it. No exaggeration. Also, if you didn’t get that reference, please refer to the television show NCIS.

May I also point out that just because I’m the Abby, does not mean I know right off hand without ever having to look at it, exactly how each different cell phone works. Many people like to think I do, but I do not. Every piece of technology is different. If you have the basic know how of one cell phone, though, you can usually figure out another one without too much effort, but you must see it first.

On a side note, and not that this is important to anyone except for me, at all, I’ve decided to be Abby for Halloween because I think it’s really fitting. (I didn't get to go anywhere last Halloween, so I am planning on doing it this year if the occasion so occurs.) I also almost typed Christmas instead of Halloween, which could have gotten really hinky, let me tell you. (For reference of the word hinky, please also look to NCIS. It’s an Abby word. Promise I’m not making things up, here.)

Anyway, back to the phone. Aunt Bev got my mom the coolest, most cost effective phone she could find. This being said, I thought the two of them had it all figured out. I don’t know why, but I did, so I sat as happily as I could for as terrible as I felt, as I had just gotten out of the ER hours earlier, and played around on my computer while they messed with the phone.

They had no idea what they were doing and somehow I was totally and utterly surprised by this. When things such as this happen, you can tell I’ve really been knocked down a pretty good one and am really having a tough time. In fact, I wasn’t even going to document this into the blog, as epic as it is, until Aunt Bev said “this is going on the blog.” Normally, as soon as I saw a cell phone and my mom and Aunt Bev were involved, I would have started taking immediate notes. Rest assured, though, that after Aunt Bev pointed out that this was going in the blog, I did take notes, so you all will not miss out on the sacred insanity that took place just days ago.

So as I was saying before, I am the Abby and my mom is the Gibbs. This is very important to remember through out this whole story. Before the phone was even turned on, plugged in, etc, my mom quickly became the Dinozzo of the bunch. Ah, yes, another NCIS reference for those of you who aren’t familiar. You’re really getting a work out today.

Long story short, Abby is the forensics chick, Gibbs is the leader of the NCIS team, and Dinozzo is the immature, slightly off, overly excitable, unexpectedly good at his job, playboy of the team. I’m not saying my mom was being a playboy, but I am saying that she was being immature, slightly off, and way too excitable.

What was she excited about, you ask?

Prepare yourselves.

Covering the screen of the phone was a sticky, thin plastic protector. This is standard on all phones, and not at all the exciting part. The exciting part is is the double protector that went over the initial protector and emulated how the screen would look when the phone was turned on and operational.

A sticky protector on top of a sticky protector just blew my mom's mind. She spent several minutes gleefully playing with the protectors and pointed out several times how neat and exciting it was to have two “sticky things” on her phone.

She needs to get out of the house more.

Aunt Bev was so excited that my mom was having fun with all the excitement over the double stickies, because who wouldn’t, that she, too, decide that she was having fun. This caused the conversation on how Aunt Bev never has this much fun with her husband. To which my mom replied that she has never had fun with a man.

I wanted to go there so badly, you don’t even know, but in the state of physical being I was in, I kept my mouth shut. The more I think about it, the better I think that was. Also, the more I think about it, the more I think that my mom isn’t the only one who needs out of the house.

While this little conversation commenced, Aunt Bev was finishing plugging in the phone so that we could charge it and get it set up for use. The two of them took to reading the instructions six ways to Sunday and came upon the conclusion that you either had to call to activate the phone, as well as the calling card, or you could sign up online.

Guess who got nominated for this task because she was the only one who could figure out how to do either?

And guess which route I went, being the Abby and all.

I carefully, methodically, and exhaustively went through the process of getting the phone in order online so that it would be ready for use. I then asked Aunt Bev and my mom to do one thing since they were near the phone and I was not. I should not have asked them. I should have gotten up, but I was too tired, and the result was, no doubt, funny.

I asked them to turn the phone off and then turn it back on again to activate it. The response I got was that Aunt Bev had already done that earlier. It took me a few times of explaining why you had to do it now, after I activated it, as opposed to before it had been activated, for it to sink in, but eventually they got that turning it off would activate the physical phone and not just the account online, like I had just done.

Once the phone was finally up and running, the question of if my mom would really get double minutes or not got answered, it was time for the two of them to play around with it. Let’s just say that they got stuck in the camera app and couldn’t get back out, taking pictures of random things until I came and ended the insanity.

Ah, crazy days.

Needless to say, by the end of it all, I was amused. But really, would I expect anything else from the team of Aunt Bev and my Mom?

No, I would not.

Another story I’d like to share has to do with Becky and some random person who kept texting me, obviously thinking I was someone else. This took place right in the middle of the Wal-Mart shoe section, and I will never forget it for as long as I live.

On this particular day, someone whose phone number I did not recognize kept texting me and referring to me as someone else. I can’t remember the exact name they were using, but let’s go with Denise. Denise sounds like a nice, solid name, although I know it was nothing even remotely close to that. Let’s just work with me here, okay?

I had texted this person they first time they had incorrectly texted me to assure them that I was not the person they were looking for. I thought I was being nice, but apparently this person was reading impaired, because the texts continued all day. Irony.

Eventually I texted them again and asked them to please stop texting me because my name was not Denise, and I was not the person they were looking for. This still did not stop them and the texting continued. Thank goodness I have unlimited texting, or I would have been finding them and pretending to beat them up in my mind, because I don’t promote real life violence.

The day drug on and Becky and I headed to Wal-Mart to try to find her shoes for a wedding she was going to be in. As expected, my phone continued to go off from text messages and annoy the absolute crap out of me, especially when I only had the volume on because I was awaiting an important text from someone else.

After several times of this happening, Becky asked me what was going on and why I wasn’t texting the person back. I explained it to her, to which her response became taking my phone and texting the person back in a way that I could not even have done if I tried. The text said something like this, but it wasn’t the exact wording.

“Dear human life form of whom is looking for Denise. She has been abducted, and we the aliens have confiscated her phone. We no longer know of a Denise, as her life form seizes to exist. You are next.”

I know that the text was nothing like that, but the gist of it is still the same. We stood in the middle of Wal-Mart, laughing hysterically and choking for air like absolute morons, while everyone else pretended not to notice us. Oh, they noticed us.

So, what ever happened to the random person sending the texts, you ask?

About ten minutes later I received another text from them stating, “Gees, I had the wrong number! Sorry!”

I would have felt bad for harassing the person in such a manner, except I had been telling them they had the wrong person all day, and yet they continued to send me increasingly angry texts, because I apparently was Denise, and Denise was not answering the questions they were texting her.

So to the person out there who sent me all those texts, if you do ever come across this blog, and you will certainly know it’s you unless you get lots of random texts like the one my friend Becky sent you from my phone, I really hope you eat dirt. And maybe go back to school, because it might be able to help you understand when someone tells you that they are NOT the person you were texting over and over again.

What’s even more sad is that it took Becky sending them that text for them to understand they had the wrong person. However, me simply telling them that they did, just did not compute. Really? Just...really?

And I really want to thank Becky for always being, and continuing to be the kind of entertainment that I could never find anywhere else, not even if I paid for it. I realize how wrong this could sound, but get your damn minds out of the gutter, people! Gees!

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned my acute fear of birds, but I just have a few words as to why I have said fear.

When I was little, very little, I was chased by a set of chickens and a very crazed rooster. Back in the day when I had to go with my dad on weekends, he lived on a farm. On this farm there was a rooster. (Ei ei oh!) This rooster didn’t like anyone. I don’t even know if he liked himself. If you went outside, this rooster knew, no matter where you were on the farm and he would promptly start chasing you and pecking at you.

This began my fear of large birds, but I was still able to deal with the small ones that flew. That was until I was eleven and we moved into the current house that I’m in now. When we moved in we were unaware that the part at the top of the fireplace that is used to keep birds from getting in to our little wood burning stove, was broken and birds could indeed get in.

We learned this lesson extremely quickly and in a very painful way.

One day I came home to two very angry blackbirds in our house. They had obviously gotten into the wood burning stove while we were gone, and the dog noticed, got upset, and broke the glass on the doors of the stove, allowing them to fly freely.

They were swooping and trying to attack us like we were invading their territory. They were not easy to get out, and this happened time and time again. We also used to have those funnel lamps and one even got stuck in there, and since we had it on as it was nighttime and we were out of the house for awhile, he also died and burnt in there, which smelled up the house for several days.

It took us awhile to finally get the fireplace properly repaired, as we repaired it once and then the birds, being as they were used to getting in our house, got angry and broke the piece of the pipe all over again. We have yet to replace the glass, but we figured it didn’t matter much at the time, as the dog would just keep going through it. But long story short, this is why I am terrified of birds, and pretty much anything else that flies, big or small. I don’t discriminate.

Greta Hayley Says: This Is My Blog Now!

Greta Hayley Says:

My mommy is sicker than I have seen her in a long time. She says her medication to help her feel better makes her feel worse, so I am taking over the blog until Mommy is back to feeling better. I am also being the sweetest little helper to my mommy, too. You can see this from my picture above. I just lie at her feet and sleep, but if she needs me, I wake up and am all ready to take care of her and be hugged!

Mommy says that I should tell you a story about how I am a little con artist, but I do not think I am any such thing, so I can't tell those stories. I can tell you a story about my little brother, Scamper, though. Well, he's not technically my brother because he's a kitty, but who is keeping track of labels?

This...

is Scamper!

Scamper has been here longer than I have, and Mommy likes to tell stories about when he was little. When he first came home, Mommy says he was so tiny and sickly that the vet thought he was not going to make it very long. Mommy and Grandma were determined he would and loved him ever so very much. So much so, that one time Mommy went to get a bath and Scamper screamed when she tried to go in alone, so she took him in with her.

I should note here that Scamper is not Mommy's cat, but he is my Grandma's kitty. He just loves Mommy very much, too.

We have a garden tub, and because Scamper was yelling because he couldn't see Mommy while she was in the tub, she sat him on the side of the tub. He laid down and was very happy. Then, out of nowhere, he took a swan dive into the tub with her. She grabbed him immediately and sat him outside of the tub and on the floor, where he proceeded to climb back up the tub and jump back in. Mommy tried to take him out again, but he yelled and yelled at her. She finally got him out and she had to stop her bath because he wanted to jump back in. That would have been silly on his part, because he already looked like this!

From that day on, we have to watch Scamper around water because he will jump in any water he sees and have lots of fun! Who says kitties don't like water?

Lenny the Magical Polyp

I am sorry for not proofing and posting anything I’ve had in cue. Quite simply, I still feel like crap. Well, I mean, I feel like crap if crap had a twin that came to visit while crap was already inhabiting me. Did that make sense to anyone but myself? Either way, I thought I would update you all on what’s going on so you wouldn’t think I was just a lazy piece.

I am mostly writing this to apologize to anyone who may have tried to talk to me this week without a satisfactory answer. I.E., I either didn’t respond for several days, or it was a short, albeit cranky response. I know this sounds like a line, but it was honestly me, not you. I am sorry. When I really don’t feel well, I tend to not want to deal with anything, and when I have to, I get cranky. As to not take the cranky out on anyone else, I either don’t answer their pending emails in a timely manner, until I feel I can somewhat deal with life, and / or, when I do, they are short and not up to par with my regular emails. Again, I apologize.

I touched briefly on what was going on with my health in the last post, in which you can tell I obviously wasn’t feeling well since I spelled vacation wrong in the title. I mean, level with me here, guys. How sick do you have to be to spell vacation wrong and not even notice after proofreading? Yes, I changed it, but it was a blaring error that was staring me right smack in the face and I couldn’t take it anymore. However, you still have my permission to laugh at me just knowing that I spelled vacation as vacatioin. I don’t know what a vacatioin is, but maybe I should consider taking one.

Anyway, to touch on it a little less briefly, which I realize sounds dirty but go with me here, I shall give you an easy rundown on what’s been going on. Basically, as I mentioned previously, I started out having a sore throat, but then it turned into what most would think was a cold, only I could tell it wasn’t a cold. Something was up, and if anything, I thought I had a viral infection. The reason being that with my sneezing and coughing came a sharp, inflammatory like pain in my middle back. This pain was also driving my stomach up a wall. I have been prone to viral infections in my back before, which often cause cold like symptoms, and chalked it up to most likely being that. I hate when I’m wrong.

Not that you all need or want to know this, but on top of that I was having issues with burning after I went number one. Not before or during, but after. I know that’s not the mature way to put it, but probably the least grotesque. I had a test done to check for urinary issues and viruses, per the doctor's request, thinking they would show what was up and she could just give me antibiotics. They all came back negative, so I went to the doctor, still thinking I would end up on a round of antibiotics in the end.

She looked me over and felt around on my back and what not, already knowing that I didn’t have any viruses per the prior testing. The one major thing she saw that was wrong was that my back was hot and heavily inflamed. The pain I’m having is nothing like muscle pain. It goes deeper than that and makes it hard to sit back against it or stand for any amount of time. Basically, I can lay on my side or my stomach, not move a lot and ice it pretty consistently. Freaking dance party, right?

Because of where the pain and swelling are located, and the post urination burning, she believes it’s a kidney problem. However, after some additional evaluation, it doesn’t seem as if I have kidney stones. She ordered more tests to find out for sure.

Also, I know I’ve mentioned before that the doctors are positive, because of my symptoms and a pre-cursor disorder, that I have an autoimmune disorder. The problem with those disorders is that they can often take years to declare themselves in blood tests. Being that I literally had twenty six tests done last year alone, not counting the blood test, and close to fifty in the last three years, they’re positive there is nothing else going on that could cause the symptoms I’m having. Yes, I do have a condition with my heart, but it’s not one that would cause all the issues I’m having.

So, if this ends up not being a kidney disorder, we have to chalk it up to having to do with the autoimmune disorder, which is good and bad. It’s good, because it may be another piece in the puzzle to finding out exactly what is going on with my body to treat it. This may be the disorder declaring itself. However, if it does have to do with that disorder and it does not declare itself, they really don’t know what to give me to treat it. They have to be careful when they give me medications, because without knowing what I have, some medications make certain kinds of autoimmune conditions angrier than they already are. They are pretty sure they know what’s going on, but since they don’t have it on a lock, it’s pretty frustrating.

Also, the way that I understand, certain autoimmune disorders are also considered connective tissue disorders. They believe fully that what I have is connective tissue. That being said, apparently that means my tissue is already preempt to swell. So, overall, this issue could be simply that. I could have a mass of tissue swelling around my kidneys, as well as where the sun doesn’t shine, which will cause burning after going to the potty.

Another possibility is something that I’ve mentioned before. I have a polyp in my gallbladder. This was found due to me having severe pain in my right side and back, around the same area where my pain is now, only now it’s on both sides, and the whole burning after going potty thing is totally new. When said polyp, which I shall now refer to as Lenny, since it’s annoying and obviously has to be a boy, was first discovered, they had the concern that it could be cancerous because of the kind of polyp it was and where it was located in the gallbladder.

I had to wait six months to get another ultrasound done. I was told one of two things would happen with said ultrasound. Lenny would either grow, and if he did, they would go in and remove him and test him to see if he was cancerous, since he was too small to test as was. And, most likely, if he did grow, he was cancerous. Or, Lenny would not grow at all, and if he didn’t, they would know for sure he wasn’t cancerous. This seemed simple enough, although the six month wait sucked monkeys. I mean no offense to monkeys.

I go back in for the scan and what does Lenny do? Lenny shrinks. Apparently this was a really rare occurrence and mostly unheard of for a polyp. Four doctors ended up in the room marveling over a shrunken Lenny. No one knew what to make of him. I just thought he was magic.

It had already been mentioned that I would have to have my gallbladder taken out since I was prone to polyps, and strange ones at that. He wanted to wait until we got whatever autoimmune issue that was going on at bay, since it can be an adjustment to lose a gallbladder. A few months ago, said gallbladder started hurting me pretty badly and he suspected he may have to take it sooner rather than later.

I made an appointment to go in, but a lot of bad weather happened and what not, making my appointment get pushed back to next month. It’s been a long, hard winter, folks. Then, with my car dying and having to work around my mom’s schedule, that just didn’t help things any. Either way, it’s possible this is a gallbladder issue. I knew prior to now that I was going to that appointment basically to find out if I would be having the gallbladder surgery sooner than later. If this all ends up being because of my gallbladder, and things have gotten this bad because I had to keep canceling my appointment and rescheduling, Lenny and I are going to have to have a pretty hefty talk about his self righteousness.

The ironic thing about all of this is that my grandma had an autoimmune disorder. This is mostly why they believe I have one, too, because they believe they are hereditary, but can skip a generation. As time went on, I started to notice my symptoms were mimicking my grandmother’s, which is why I chose to go to the same doctor as her. And as that doctor would say, we are both certainly her weird patients. She can never predict what our bodies are going to pull. Even with grandma having passed, I’m noticing more symptoms and more similarities to her condition. I have literally had every single test that she had done, only five years after her. She also had her gallbladder removed a few years back for similar symptoms that they originally believed was a kidney condition.

Considering what she had, and them thinking I have it, too, I am not amused. If I do have what she has, it will be the thing that kills me. That’s not to say I will die tomorrow; I could live a full, long life, but unless I die in a freak accident, it’s guaranteed that will be what kills me like it did her. She got it when she was older and was in remission for ten years prior to her death. I really hope I don’t have what she had. No offense, Gram.

Along with that long, drawn out explanation of understanding, I also hope that answered Zoe’s question, as she asked me how they could not know what’s wrong with me. That’s the basic reason. Also, Zoe, I am glad you did not get sick and that you had a great time at the Paul McCartney concert. I want to hop on over to your blog and see if you wrote about the experience just as soon as I’m only half cranky and don’t have my phasers fully set to crank. I am totally appreciating your imaginary cards. I also promise to put up a snippet of my novel as soon as I know the copyright is taken care of. I am equally excited to see some of your very own work!

Tuesday I had my blood work done. I should have the results tomorrow or Friday. I also have a script to have an ultrasound done to check out my kidneys and the surrounding area. If everything comes out clean, they’re going to do a cat scan.

This is where my story of the day comes in. Oh, you thought I was just writing this to complain about how sucky I feel? Heck no. I dang near got myself a story, folks. Sorry. I’m sure you could have gotten the point without me going all southern on you.

As I just mentioned, I have to have an ultrasound done. I know I’ve expressed before that I always go to a set of hospitals and doctors forty five minutes to an hour and a half away from here, depending on traffic. It’s a long way to travel just for an ultrasound, I know. I also know I’ve said several times that I won’t use the doctors around here, but never explained why. Well, for those of you who have wondered, today is your lucky day.

Let’s go back a few years when I was having issues with my heart beating rapidly, passing out because of it, chest pain, etc. I was going to a neurologist at that time for a foot injury, and he’s the one that ended up finding out I had a PFO in my heart. At first we thought the symptoms I was having were neurological because of the nerve damage to my foot, but after the tests confirmed that was not so, he suspected my heart. He gets a point. Him I like.

Naturally, because I am in an area where they are four hospitals within twenty to twenty five minutes from here, and we are polluted with doctor’s offices, I went to a doctor at a local, well known hospital. I took all the tests that had been done, along with a list of my symptoms, and a referral from my neurologist saying he suspected there was also an underlying issue with my heart causing it to act the way it has been, which is like a three year old child with incurable ADHD.

I got in the office, was called back a half an hour after my appointment, waited forty five more minutes for the doctor and then he finally arrived. He got in his chair, looked at all my previous records and then looked at me, laughed, and said the following. “I’ve never had anyone come to me that doesn’t actually have anything wrong with them.” He then walked out of the room. He didn’t even examine me. What’s so great about this was it was the hospital he worked for that did the test that found the PFO in my heart, since my awesome doctor referred me there for testing. This was strike one for this particular group of health care services, Excela Health. They excel at suck.

Being that Excela ran almost all the doctors offices in the area, I went to another doctor. The other doctor said I did have an issue with my heart, but she was unsure what to do about it, or how to find out what was going on exactly. You’re a cardiologist. How do you not know how to find out? I was pretty frustrated at this point.

Not two months after this, I had a TIA. Only, when I went to the same hospital I started out at for this, all they did was drug test me. Yes, you heard me. They drug tested me down to Tylenol, despite the fact that there were three adults there telling them I did not do drugs. When they couldn’t even find Tylenol in my system, they sent me home, but did nothing to help me except they had given me a sugar water drip while I was there. Then, they billed me $5000 in drug testing. I refused to pay, found out that by law, they could not just drug test me like that with three people there saying I did not do drugs, and without looking into any other issue. I threatened legal action and suddenly they told me not to worry about paying that bill. Funny how that works.

I realize most of you are wondering why I went to that particular hospital, given my issues with Excela. The reason was my mom was not home, nor did she have a cell phone at the time. It was Aunt Bev’s ex-husband who happened to call here and realize something was wrong because I couldn’t form any words correctly. He came and got me and took me to the closest hospital. This shouldn’t have been a problem since they were the ones who discovered the PFO in my heart, and had all of my records since the doctors I had gone to were within their health care system.

This is when we realized we would have to go to the doctors in the health care group further away. I can not say enough good things about the doctors outside of Excela, and how it's more than worth the drive. I really can not. I got a new cardiologist, who literally went into my heart and realized I had a few issues going on. I also went to gram’s doctor and she discovered my blood disorder. When they put them together, they realized I was a perfect candidate for a TIA, and they were both positive that’s what I had that day.

They sent me to another doctor who specializes in this issue. He is currently monitoring my heart on a consistent basis. The reason being, with the PFO and the blood disorder, it is possible for my blood to get thick and stick in the PFO, since it is but a small hole. If that happens, it will cause me to have a TIA, or a full blown stroke. Right now, the PFO is just under the FDA regulation size for them to be able to fix it, and even if it wasn’t, with the other issues I have with my heart, they don’t know if they would be able to do the procedure without actually doing open heart and stopping my heart to install the umbrellas, which is total overkill for the procedure.

However, I have arrhythmia, meaning my heart could speed up at anytime while trying to install the umbrella if they do the procedure without opening up my chest and temporarily stopping my heart, breaking off a piece of said umbrella and dropping it into my blood stream. This is bad enough, because it could cause a blood clot, but with my blood disorder, it’s almost guaranteed that that’s what would happen. If it does, and they were unable to repair the PFO because the umbrella broke, it’s possible the blood clot could go through that PFO and to my brain. It’s one big circle, but he still wants to monitor my heart, because there’s the concern that one day I will get a clot, or my blood will get thick enough that it does stick in that hole, and I won’t just have a TIA; I have a full blown stroke. That’s what we’re trying to prevent.

If this information wasn’t enough to discredit Excela, who ignored me, drug tested me, and told me I was fine, my grandma had to get an MRI done. Because she could no longer drive herself and we were the only ones willing to take her to the other group of doctors further away, she decided to have the MRI done at the same hospital I had the issues with. After all, how badly could they screw up her MRI?

The MRI was of her brain, and shortly after getting it done, we got a panicked call from her saying they found a tumor in her brain, and it was large. This wasn’t what they had gone in looking for, but this is what they had found. We made an emergency appointment to go see the awesome doctor who had requested the MRI, only to have her redo the MRI since Gram had no symptoms leading her to believe there was a brain tumor. She found that what she suspected was going on, and had sent my grandma in to get tested for, was correct, and my gram did NOT have a brain tumor. The machine malfunctioned, but after the hospital found that out, they didn’t feel it necessary to call and tell her doctor that their machine malfunctioned that day. No, the doctor had to call them and tell them they did another MRI and there was no tumor, only to be told by them that they knew this, their machine had malfunctioned. FAIL!

I know you’re wondering why I’m also telling you all of this, so I will get to that now. Recently, Excela bought out the other two hospitals that were not previously owned by them, as well as any health facilities in the area. I was aware they had bought out the hospitals, but not the facilities.

I decided that, instead of going the whole way out to the great hospital to get an ultrasound done, I would simply go to this one medical complex twelve minutes away that I had gone to previously for such things. It was easier and they were efficient. I went to pull up their number, only to find that now it was a 1-800 number, which confused me. That was until I called.

Imagine my surprise when I was alerted that the complex was now owned by Excela, and I did not, in fact, call that complex. Oh no, I had called a main line for that Excela, and would no longer be able to just call that complex. I would have to call Excela, and they would take care of all scheduling from now on in. This was going to go wrong somewhere, I could feel it, so I did the only thing I could; I groaned, but decided to stick it out, because I had gone there before, liked the employees, assumed they were the same, and thought that I would be okay to go there. This was stupid on my part, I know.

The first person I got said she was just an operator and transferred me. I waited another three minutes for someone else to pick up. When they did, I told them the situation. The lady on the phone asked me several times to read the script to her. I did. She asked me several more times. Then she put me on hold to call and talk to the complex that I could no longer call, because she couldn’t figure out what kind of ultrasound I needed done. I was ready to hang up, but I hung in there. No pun intended, promise.

After seven minutes, she got back to me and told me she still couldn’t figure out what kind of ultrasound I wanted, and she would have to call my doctor's office. Then she hung up. At this point, I knew I would not be going there and would be going further away to the hospital I trusted to have this test done. I mean, everything on the script was in medical coding, meaning it should go into the system and even if she didn’t know what kind of ultrasound I was getting, the place where I was getting it would. I had never had this problem with this complex before...until, you guessed it, Excela took over.

I called, told the hospital I normally go to what was on my script, and got an appointment in less than three minutes on the phone. No fuss, no mess, no issues. They knew what I needed done.

A little while later, the lady from Excela calls me back, tells me that she called my doctor's office and they had no record of the script or anything about me, for that matter. That was funny, because I was holding the script in my hand. And that’s when I realized it; she never bothered to get a phone number or anything for my doctor off of me. She asked me what doctor I went to, but there is more than one doctor with that same last name in the area. Who knows who in the hell she called. One thing is for sure, not only are the people in Excela incompetent, but the people who work for them probably need someone to feed them, too. No, I don’t feel this is mean. It’s their job to know this stuff.

I will keep you all updated on what is going on as soon as I know, and am not cranky. Let me note I am also having a ton of random swelling in my gums, and if I don't keep them iced, I am in serious pain no matter what I take. This really makes me cranky. So I apologize for the crankiness.

Vivi Ann, if you ever come to the US, you are welcomed to visit me. I also hope to proof and have a special post about you up very soon.

The Post Naming Committee Is On Vacation

I am sorry for being lame and not posting all the posts I have sitting on my computer just waiting to be posted. Just a quick update as to why.

Last week I got a cold. I knew by the way I was feeling that it wasn't so much of a normal cold as something else going on with my body with a hint of a cold on top of it. I just did not feel right. I was not up to proofreading anything and just in general was having a rough time this week.

Today I went to the doctor expecting a round of antibiotics or something of the sort, but I did not end up getting the good news I wanted. The doctor was sincerely stumped by my symptoms except for two options. One is that there is something seriously wrong with my kidneys. Two is that my connective tissue disorder is more intense than they thought and causing very painful flair ups with my body. I am going to be going for more testing. She's starting out with non invasive testing, but if it shows nothing it will have to come to that.

Please forgive me if I don't update for awhile. I am just simply not feeling up to it physically or emotionally. I am truly sorry. When I get some time where I'm feeling okay, I promise that I will post.

On a better note, I'm pretty sure that in my sickness I concocted the most hysterical character in the history of really odd characters that aren't quite right upstairs. She even bites. I know this doesn't sound so good, but I promise it is. Maybe when I feel better I'll disagree with this notion.

iGo For A Walk - Part Three

Before I conclude the saga that is my walking adventures, I would like to tell you all that I haven’t taken a walk since I started posting this series. It hasn’t been on purpose. I either have not been home, it’s been too stinking hot, or it’s been raining like mad. The irony of this is not lost on me. Bet me that tomorrow I will definitely go for a walk now that I’ve posted the last part of this. And it won't even be on purpose.

Since I have spent the last two posts of this series showing you pictures and telling you all about the paths I walk, I will spend this last post in the series telling you about the compilation of “exciting” things that have happened to me while on my walk. Oh baby, I don’t know if you can all handle this. Grab those inhalers.

Each time I go for a walk, there’s two things I know. One is that it’s going to be absolutely, pants eating exciting. I don’t know what that means either, other than it’s not going to be exciting at all, because how fun can eating pants really be? Not that fun.

Two, I will have a showdown with this little guy.

Yes, I know he’s hard to see, but squint your eyes, jump up and down on one foot and clap. You’ll see him better. Okay, no, actually you won’t, but now I’m laughing at you automatically just by picturing this, so I’m just going to ahead and assume you’re doing this, as it makes me happy. Anyway...in case you can’t see him very well, he is a squirrel in a tree. Indeed.

Now, Cassadee, how does one have a showdown with a squirrel, you ask? The truth is, I still don’t know. I find myself walk quietly down the street, minding my own beeswax, when I make my second turn and come across Sir Squirrel. This happens every single time in the very same place, so by now I’m prepared.

Sir Squirrel is normally at the base of the same tree, or hanging out of it. As he sees me get closer, he gets a little antsy. Sorry, Sir Squirrel, I did not mean to refer to you as an ant. Anyway, he will start to make odd noises and act erratically, but not like he’s going to attack, more like he’s upset that I’m there because people give him panic attacks. Hey, for all I know, maybe they do.

I will start to go to the other side of the road just so I don’t disturb him, when all of a sudden, he’ll start to dart to the other side of the road. This is when the standoff occurs. He stops and looks at me, I stop and look at him, and we spend a few minutes dancing back and forth until I finally stop and let him choose which way he’s going to go, and then go the opposite way.

The good news is that when I come back, he just stares me down, which is how I got his picture. It’s not a good picture, because how dare I get too close, but still, it’s a picture. Let’s all take a moment to silently thank him for that. Oh, and all virtual acorns can be sent in the comments, and I will be sure he gets them. I am also assuming it’s a he. I don’t really know. Go with me on this one.

I would also like to take a break and tell you all a short story about my history with squirrels. This whole crazy squirrel showdown does not surprise me because I have a history of flipping out squirrels. In my previous experience the squirrel actually pulled one over on me. Yeah...you read that right.

I used to pet sit, which undoubtedly gave me plenty of stories to tell, both normal and paranormal. I will get to those one day, but for right now I’m going to focus only on the squirrel. Trust me, it’s worth it. This may be the only time you ever hear those two sentences together.

The one house I was pet sitting at was way back off the road, sitting up against a river and covered in trees. There wasn’t one part of the yard that the sun touched, because it was gorgeously draped in tree branches. The cats were kept in a large shed designed specifically for them. I had just fed them and was heading back to my car, when I heard squeaky sound from above me. It actually sounded like laughter, but I knew it was an animal.

As I went to look up I was pounded by acorns. As soon as it stopped, I looked up to see a squirrel on the tree above me, making the laughing noise again. I only got a short look at him, because he started pounding me with acorns again. Then he laughed...again. I swear to goodness he was laughing. I looked up again and he was kind of standing on his two little back legs, making the sounds. Yeah, he was laughing.

I decided to just ignore him and walk to my car. As I did, he followed me from the trees above, making his little laughing sound and dropping acorns on my head. By the time I got to my car I actually wanted to high five the little guy. He was all kinds of awesome. Any squirrel that can follow someone and drop acorns on their head, while sounding like they’re laughing, is completely cool in my book.

I have in my notes that I had the crap scared out of me by a bird and screamed. Boy, I wish I could remember that incident. It takes a lot to make me scream, but apparently a bird did so. I would love to find it and bake it a cake of birdseed or something. I think it’s deserved.

While I was walking, I’m pleased to announce that I made two friends. Not one, but two. I was quite popular, and this was all on the same day. So, as you can tell, I exceed at making friends. Just wait until you hear what kind of friends I made.

The first friend was a fly. Yes, a fly. Now, I’ll be totally honest with you, I have some reservations about exactly what kind of friendship it was he wanted. He was all up in my business, and I really feel like he may have been doing one of two things. One, he was stalking me. Two, he was riding me way too close for having not bought me dinner first. Either way, a friend is a friend. Eventually he got too friendly and I hate to bat him, and then he left. I am a lady of class and his behavior was not befitting of that.

A little later, someone wasn’t watching their very adorable dog. Within seconds it was charging at me. I debated if I should run, hide or both, not knowing this dog and if it was running at me nicely, or with malice intent. Turns out, it just wanted hugs. Lots and lots of hugs. The problem became getting it to go back home instead of following me, but alas the owner noticed his dog was missing and came after him. I have to say, I wouldn’t have been to sad if it followed me home. It was a good hugger.

Here in Pennsylvania, we have a type of bird that we call deer-legs, because they have long, splayed legs and run all over the place. I spent awhile looking for them online, and for some reason, I can’t find a picture of them to find out what they’re actually called. I assume they’re indigenous to this particular region, as I’ve never seen them anywhere else, but I can’t be sure. If I find out for sure, I will let you know. They look very similar to sanderlings, but considering the region, that can't be what the actually are.

That’s neither here nor there, but what is important is that they are strange little birds. It’s rare to see one fly, because what they actually do is run around, often in groups, but sometimes all by their little selves, and yell loudly as if pandemonium is coming their way, yet you never see anything particularly worthy of such actions happen to them. The long short of it is that they have little bodies, big legs, yell a lot, and they specialize in running in front of you as you walk down the road while yelling. I have no idea why they do this, but I think they have Chicken Little syndrome. They are odd little birds.

But alas, in the wiles and the whims of the random places in the USA that I could walk, there is where I live, thus where I walk. I know it’s not exciting, and it’s not glorious, but I did pick you some flowers to thank you for hanging in with me on this very exciting, exclusive series. See, here’s your flowers.

And last but not least, I shall leave you with the stretch of the road that always brings me home. While a deer-leg runs in front of me and yells, of course.

And Nine Interplanetary Conventions

I know I've been slacking on my blogs, and tonight I'm even going to cheat when it comes to posting. The funny thing about this is, you would all assume I was slacking because I had nothing to write about. Actually, it's just the opposite.

I have nine posts written out, and enough notes of things that have happened to make at least five more. This is truly the case of having so much going on, and so many weird and funny things happening, that I can't keep up. I keep writing out new posts, and then running out of time to proofread and post them. Then, I had the cold from Heck, a legal place in my mind, for five days, and a million things to do, which just led to more funny things happening, but not feeling like writing or posting them, so I ended up playing catchup. As opposed to Ketchup. Okay, bad joke. I'm sorry.

I also have to post part three of iGo For A Walk, which, let me not even lie, I haven't even written yet. All this crazy stuff keeps happening, and I keep writing it down as it happens, and other things get pushed back. It's pure insanity, I tell you! *Insert panic attack here, only not really* I also wrote out that story I promised you all a good month ago, but then decided to hold off on until the storm cleared. It's going to end up being two posts, but it's coming.

For tonight, I'm just going to regal you with fun stuff from Leverage, because, quite frankly, it's all I've got. Tomorrow looks like a good day to sit down and really hash out all this stuff, so I can start getting my posts in order. I say that now, but with the way my life is going, tomorrow I will probably end up running around to six stores and nine interplanetary conventions. I'm just saying.

For now, I leave you with my apologies, but enough stuff to make you laugh just so you'll hopefully forgive me. I super have to apologize for this one more than you think, because what you're getting was originally an e-mail to my mom and Aunt Bev to catch them up on the Leverage trend before the new season started. Yes, I'm now feeding you all rehashed stuff, but it came from my mom and Aunt Bev's inbox, and my outbox, so a little forgiveness would be awesome. If you can't forgive me, I understand. I'll be mad at me, too, just for you.

Anywho, strap yourselves in for a Leverage saga, because if you are reading this blog, you have time to a Leverage saga. The clips are short, I promise. Plus, I've explained everything, so even if you don't watch the show, you don't have to wonder what's going on. What you may have to do, however, is revert back to the Alice White Made A Friend posts from a few days ago, in order to understand a few of these clips.

For instance, this scene has to do with that post, where I explained that Parker had an alias called Alice White. You will need to refer to that post so this makes more sense, because in this scene, Eliot and Sophie are trying to teach Parker (the blonde) how to be personable with people. Eventually they give up and tell her that Alice has to be personable with people and she gets it...a week later. However, this is at the beginning of the process. Parker has spent her life in foster homes and then she took off on her own after she had enough of the abuse, so to say she is socially inept would be an understatement. She is a thief by trade to survive, and has no idea how to persuade anyone to do anything. She says it like it is, and if she has to talk someone into doing something, she does it by threatening them, or saying the most crude thing she can to get them to do it. This scene is an awesome example because, even with as well as Eliot knows her, he completely falls for it. She is just that good at what she does and says. And no, Sophie doesn't usually dress like that. She just came off of doing a con and decided since she is the ever persuasive drifter of the group, getting people to believe anything she wants, she should be the one to teach Parker how to take after her.

At this point in the show, Eliot has had to tell Parker that she and Alice are the same person about a half dozen times. He is not a gentle person, so he's about had it up to his ears with her. Sophie is a moderator, often acting like a parent between the two.

Clip 1 - Power of Persuasion

By far, the two funniest characters on the show are Hardison and Eliot. Hardison is funny because, well...he's just funny, and he reminds me of Gary, a character on What I Like About You, whose signature line was "oh my damn." Eliot is funny because he's supposed to be scary, but really he's just confused most of the time because no one listens to him, so he just beats anyone up that looks dangerous and apologizes if it wasn't the right person. Anytime Hardison and Eliot get put together, nothing good can happen. In this scene, Eliot has kidnapped a cadaver, and he and Hardison have to insert liquid into his brain so that when an MRI is done on him, it will show up like he has a brain tumor. There's really not much that Eliot won't do or hasn't done, which is shown by the way he "sets down" the needle right in the corpse, but apparently this is his limit. On the other hand, when it comes to being hands on, there's not a lot Hardison has done and he's visibly softer natured than Eliot, so naturally they settle this like men.

Clip 2 - Rock, Paper, Scissors

Highjacking a fashion show became a good idea somewhere along the line. This is where you would normally expect Hardison to fit right in, since he can blend in with anything fairly easily because he's so easy going. This is also where you would expect Eliot to dress in torn clothing and not fit in at all, which is normal for him regardless of a con, unless Hardison makes him an outfit and forces him to wear it, which is really a whole other story altogether. The tables turn when Eliot decides he knows what fashion is. Hardison tries not to die of laughter on the spot. The other girl in this scene is Tara. She's filling in for Sophie while the actress who plays her takes maternity leave. So just pretend she's Sophie. There's two things to keep in mind while watching this. One: Hardison is one hundred percent terrified of Eliot and hates confrontation. Two: Tara is not afraid of Eliot, but he is afraid of her. Which is new, because he's not really afraid of anyone, but because she's not afraid of him, he's afraid of her.

Clip 3 - Guyliner
And yes, he wears the guyliner through the rest of the show. It takes a hell of a man.

The guy who created, writes and produces this show actually has a blog where he tells about his experiences on the show. This scene apparently became a big joke between the cast and crew. I'll let you watch it and then I'll explain why.

Clip 4 - Darts
The clip obviously called for Eliot to look away from the dartboard but still hit the target. They gave the guy who plays him darts and told him to just throw them and don't worry about where they land, obviously. Apparently he threw two in a row and hit the target both times without looking. This was also apparently the day everyone decided not to piss him off.

As for Parker slapping guys butts, she was stealing their wallets. Eliot slapped her butt not because he was supposed to, but because he knew it would irk her, and it's not often that he gets to do anything but make sure she doesn't get in trouble. On top of that, Parker likes Eliot, but is generally disgusted by Eliot because he's used to getting what he wants from woman. She's not afraid to tell him about it, which usually ends in him being disgusted with her when he has to babysit her, which is constantly. This sounds grim, but in the half dozen scenes where he is carrying her away from doing something stupid and she's kicking him in the background of a scene, while no one notices this going on, it becomes really funny.

Picture it, a beautiful mansion, 2008. The team is running a con during a wedding. In order to do this they all have to fake being part of the wedding festivities. Sophie is the wedding planner, Parker is the assistant, Hardison is the DJ, Nate is the stylist and Eliot is the chef. I'm pretty sure the rest of it explains itself.

Clip 5 - "I don't know...maybe."

Eliot takes his job too seriously and he's armed with knives. Then the fabulous Nicole Sullivan comes in and ends up being the first woman to ever tell a fully armed Eliot that he sucks. Good thing she doesn't know that he beats the shit out of people / kills people for a living.

Clip 6 - "I have 200 people to feed!"

While running a con in a mental hospital, Hardison and Eliot are left on the outside, with Nate and Parker checked in as patients, and Sophie playing a doctor. They need to get inside to get a few things to Nate, and Hardison having never been able to pull one over on Eliot in a place where Eliot can't kick his ass, decides to use this to his advantage. Eliot is a ladies man and also overcompensates by trying to be too butch, so I give props to a very creative, easy going and impossible to embarrass Hardison for thinking this was a good idea. These two play this part flawlessly.

Clip 7 - "Bring yo ass."

On a side note, for those of you trying to figure out how you know the guy who plays Eliot, like I spent a ton of time doing, you may, like me, know him as the awesome husband on the short lived show Close to Home. Or, you may know him, unlike me, as Lindsey on Angel. And if that still doesn't do it and you just know you know him from somewhere, yet you can't place him, he's the lead singer / songwriter for the country band Kane. Yep, you heard me, sexy Texan boy can sing. Read it and weep.

iGo For A Walk - Part 2

Last week we talked about walking, and discovered why it is so fun to take a walk where I live. And by fun, I mean it’s much like watching grass grow, paint dry and hell attempt to freeze over, for three weeks straight. I took you along the road most traveled, so to speak, and today I’m going to show you what happens when I walk the other way. Strap yourself in, kids, because it’s going to be a hell of a ride.

When I go the other way, I first start out by seeing this. As you can tell, this walk is going to be as fun and fancy free as a person who had a practical joke played on them and they now find their shoes glued to the ground with no way of getting out of them. I think the bad analogy really adds to the feel I was going for.

After I turn the first bend, I see this. This is particularly exciting because, not only can you see the church bathroom to the far left, but you can see that the door to it is open. And you thought I was kidding about the church having bathrooms outside. Pshht. I never kid about such ridiculous things.

Ah, then we reach a straight away. Look at all them trees. Ain’t they just the most exciting trees this side of that there Mississippi?

Now this is where things really get to the fuck the what point. This picture is going to look totally normal until you really look at what’s way far away. Go ahead, look harder, click on the picture to enlarge, do a dance while you wait. Do you see it?

Yep, that’s right, there’s a bridge the size of Texas right in the middle of this quiet country road. This bridge would be fitting for say, a city with five million people, but for a road that gets a whole seven people a day, give or take the less of seven people, it’s just not appropriate. Oh, Penndot, your idiocy never fails to amaze me.

Oh, and so I don’t gip you in this post, this is what I see on my way back. Yep, nothing exciting here, just more exciting trees that don’t live in Mississippi.

Wait, wait, just in case you haven’t had enough of those fine babies, here they are again from a different angle. Go ahead, get it out of your system, I know you want to ooh and ahh yourself silly.

Also, as with the last post, I will share the exciting things I saw on my walk. Again, I ask you all to take a break, go grab your inhalers, gather yourselves collectively and prepare yourselves properly before moving on with the post.

We good?

Okay, first I will introduce you to a family of pine cones, the ones in which you may need to click on this picture to enlarge in order to see said family. From left to right we have Princess Tutu Snufflinger, the daughter, Queen Lulu Snootenhopper the mother (names are different because Tutu was technically adopted and refused to change her name to anything that had snoot in it), Prince Dirk Snootenhopper, the son, and King Heinrich Snootenhopper, the father, and also shortened to King Heiny.

So, you see, not only in this family of pine cones the idealistic American family, but they’re royalty as well. I was honored to come across them. Really...honored.

Next, I came across these flowers and thought I’d take a picture for you all because they’re pretty, pretty pink flowers. Ooh, ahh. The only thing that could make them better is if they were shiny.

Directly after the flowers, I saw this precious little bird sitting all on its own on the fence post. Much like the grinnie from the other day, we also had an agreement about how close I could get to him and how I could photograph him. And this time I’m sure it was a him because right after taking the picture his little female friend flew out of the bushes and also forced him to fly away. A man wouldn’t try to force the female away from the paparazzi, but a woman would. It’s in the nature of the beast, large or small, mammal or no mammal.

I came up on a “shed” next. You will see in a moment why I put quotation marks around the word shed. This needs no explanation. Do you see it hiding there in the trees?

And because I know one view of this beautiful piece of craftsmanship was simply not enough, I took another picture at a different angle just so you could see how well this baby was put together.

Since every walk needs a little bit of the American spirit, I present you with a high flying flag. It was momentarily flapping in the wind as I tried to catch it in all its glory, but much like Chuck Norris, you don’t forgive it, it forgives you. Let’s please take a moment of silence to do one of two things. One, put your hand over your heart and honor the flag, or two, sing “It’s A Grand Old Flag.” Your choice. We can even do one and two together and two in rounds if you’d like.

And if you feel you need to do three, which is blow up the picture to see the flag, then by all means, go on ahead.

As I rounded out my walk, I came across a groundhog who thought he was a prairie dog, what with standing up and all. I don’t really know if it was a he and I didn’t bother to look, but for the sake of the story he’s a boy named Mann. Because I took this picture from a non proverbial bridge, and not the one the size of Texas, but another one over a creek, I couldn’t exactly get close enough to get a great picture of him. For that and not doing him justice, I am sincerely sorry. I am working on an apology letter to him now since he’s the only one who really wanted his picture taken and I let him down.

Now that you’ve seen the preciousness that is the species confused him, I ask you for your opinion on the following letter.

Dear Mann,
I am so sorry that I couldn't get a better picture of you. I tried, I really did, but there was a kitten in a tree and it had a cold, so I had to get it a Kleenex. This is not a lie, which may or may not be a lie in itself. I ask only for your forgiveness and for you to come closer to the road next time so I can take a better picture. No, wait, a take that back. Don’t come near the road. No. Gravel is bad. Bad I tell you. Whatever you do, DON’T COME NEAR THE ROAD!!!
Your New Friend Who Let You Down,
Cassadee

Think it will suffice? I left out the part about him being confused as to what animal he really was because I didn’t feel it necessary to insult him, but depending on his reaction to this particular letter, I may bring it up. Someone should tell him and it’s obviously not going to be his friends. I’m like the best gay guy to the animal world, setting them straight one species at a time.

Now that you’ve seen my two options for walking paths, and yes, these are the only two I have, I’m sure you can understand just why it is that I get so bored so very quickly. If not, then you come live here and I'll go live where you live. We’ll do a whole Parent Trap switch. I can dye, cut, or add extension to my hair; whatever is necessary. I can also learn a new language, but I’m not great with British accents. Just a little FYI there, but I’m still willing to try.

I would also like to point out that, if you’re really gun ho on taking a walk here, that there are two major differences that you need to know when picking a route to walk. If you take the first route, you can’t hear any of the turnpike traffic at all, making it so quiet that you’ll go out of your mind and start making music videos about singing trees eating lollipops, therefore making Lady Gaga seem totally, completely sane.

But, if you choose to go the other way, you can hear turnpike traffic for about a third of your walk. It really shakes things up, let me tell you.

We will conclude this series with one more post, where I am to regal and amaze you with tales of excitement that have been endured while walking. Get your oohs and ahhs ready; it’s going to be a bowl full of jelly.

And before I forget to add this, because it's me and I will, the amazing Miss Zoe asked me a question on FormSpring:

What gives you the inspiration to write?

A lot of different things. It depends on what I'm writing. Mostly emotions.
For my novel, it was that I felt like there was a part of me that no one saw. I wanted to write it out all, so I created a character that says and does everything that I want to, but could never say and do, and it took a life of its own. When I need out of my own head and insecurities, I write.
Other times, something I see on a television, or a character on a show will give me an idea or inspiration. I'll see a scene and immediately my mind comes up with a play on it, a play on a character, or an idea based off of it and I end up with an entire idea and just go for it.