Nigel Thornberry, Cat People, Mermaids, and Duck People

I had a dream last night that I was on a ship that was manned by Cat People. By which I mean I was on a ship akin to the Black Pearl and the pirates weren't people but were instead bipedal jungle cats. I was some sort of prize, because we were heading into port where I was going be used as a negotiation piece for something.

When we arrived near the rocky part of the port, there was a mermaid sitting on a rock telling the Cat People captain something in Mermish. We headed into the docks, and our boat was tied off, and I was carted off for the negotiations of whatever was going to be negotiated.

Until we ran into Nigel Thornberry.

I was very confused, and he seemed to think I was in much need of help. So he wandered off, muttering something about anchovies and how smashing the mermaids were.

I was then lead further into the port city towards the king/queen. I was feeling worried. Until the ground started to rupture.

Actually, I think that probably made me more worried, since the ground was falling out from under my feet, or splitting or some other likely dream scenario for when you are captured by Cat People pirates and taken past the borders of the Mermaid Brigade of Helpful Watchmen, (this is just the title I have given the mermaids, for whatever reason).

So the ground was cracking up and shaking like I imagine a proper earthquake would be like, (having never actually been awake to experience one) and the Cat People pirates were freaking out.

Mostly because their arch-nemesis, the Duck People, had come to the aid of Nigel Thornberry and subsequently, me. There was a big fight, and finally, I was somehow freed from my captors. I headed down the streets to the harbor where the Mermaid Brigade of Helpful Watchmen were waiting. Except they weren't so helpful. They liked the Cat People a lot better than the Duck People. The Cat people stayed on land and didn't poop in their waters. The Duck People weren't so considerate.

I thought I wasn't going to be able to escape the Cat People pirates, or if I did, I would be swallowed up by the earth because of the newly created earthquake chasms being ripped into the city streets. My outlook didn't look good.

But then, cresting over the waves of the extremely upset seas was the Thornberry RV. Eliza Thornberry and Darwin were there with a rope that they held onto while I climbed aboard, ready to make a safe getaway from the city.

But then I looked back and saw the sails of the Cat People pirates' ship heading directly our way. I was really scared, because when I looked down over the RV's railings, I saw that the mermaids were hanging on to the inner tube that was keeping us afloat. I felt for sure that we weren't going to make it.

And then my cat smacked me in the face with her weirdly fleshy paw.

Wake up, bitch face, she said.

New YouTube Video

Okay, so I thought I was going to get this done and edited yesterday. But I was lazy and having girl problems, so I did it today instead.

Sooooooo here is it! I hope you guys like my insanity.

For more awesomeness visit my channel!

My First Best Friend

Whenever I went to kindergarten, I rode the bus with my cousin. We sat in the front and silently fretted about our first day of school. I was so scared that when we finally rolled up to the kindergarten building, (because it was kept separate) I proceeded to trip over my own feet, fall out of the bus and bust my knees open.

I can still remember the red checkered shirt I was wearing that had a little bow tied at the bottom of the buttons.

After standing up, I made myself not cry as I shuffled over to the red door where my classroom was. My teacher was late though, so the door wasn't unlocked. I ended up standing there with all of the other kids ogling me as I bled into my white socks.

Finally my cousin told his teacher, (who was on time) what had happened. She came out and saw me standing there, bleeding like I was shot, with wet, glistening brown eyes. I was holding on tightly to my backpack and whimpering every time the wind blew.

"Oh, honey," she had said, bending down to my level. I felt terrified, thinking I had done something wrong. It wasn't like I wanted to injure myself on my very first day. "Let's take you to the nurse. Who wants to come with me?"

No one said anything. I had effectively made myself into a pariah with my blood stained socks and clumsy feet.

"I will!" Someone said from the back of the twenty or so students. I was a little kid at the time, littler than everyone else, so I didn't know who had piped up. Finally the kids parted as the only black girl in the entire kindergarten walked forward.

"Oh-kay, girls," the teacher said, really drawing out her okay. She walked across the blacktop, which at the time seemed like a mile.

"I like your hair," I said, admiring the clean black braids. 

"I like yours," she said. I found out later her name was Reese.

I came to adore her, and subsequently we became best friends. I remember asking her one day what happened when she stayed out in the sun for too long.

"What do you mean?" She'd responded, her braids taken out instead for two puff balls on the top of her head.

"I get all red then I get brown like this color." I showed her my tanned arms from hours and hours of baking in the sun. I looked more Mexican than White.

"I guess I must get lighter," she offered, having never thought of that.

"Maybe by next summer we will be the same color, like twins!" I was really excited at the idea of being her twin.

A few weeks later, I had went home asking my mom to do my hair like Reese's. She went out and bought a hundred clear rubberbands and sat with me on the couch braiding my hair into a hundred different braids. I felt so cool being able to look like Reese.

"Do you like it?" I asked, twirling around so she could see how my braids were like hers.

"You just need to get beads put on the ends like mine," she said, grinning. We were obviously getting closer to twin-hood.

It was almost the end of the year, and we made each other paintings. Mine was probably a tree with us standing under it; Reese with dark brown skin, and mine considerably lighter, and I think hers was us on a stage with the same skin color scheme. We exchanged paintings and climbing into the newly installed "tree house" that was a piece from one of the plays put on by one of the fifth grade classes.

"I have to tell you something," Reese said, looking saddened.

"What's the matter?" I asked. I felt sad, too, knowing there was some bad news coming.

"I am going to be moving soon. Really far away." I think I cried all the way home. I asked my mom if we could adopt her so she could stay. That plan didn't quite work out.

I hugged her goodbye on the last day of kindergarten after we had "graduated" and told her we would be best friends for life. That didn't quite work out either, but she was the coolest first best friend I could have ever had.

Ulcers and YouTube

So, as an update, my grandpa should be getting better. The doctors did their doctor tests and found out he had an ulcer which I guess was causing him to lose blood, or not absorb iron or something. The doctors gave him medication and sent him on his way home. Dad and Sharon went up to the hospital to help him get home and comfortable.

I am very relieved it was nothing serious, (I mean, I think ulcers are semi-serious, your body is like making an acid bubbled hole in your stomach...) and that he is going to be relatively fine, unless the ulcer comes back.

I woke up this morning, took a shower, and got ready to make my YouTube video, (it's about going to the movies, so it should be semi-amusing) and ended up doing three or four takes. I thought I liked it, but now I am not so sure. So I might redo it after I get done babysitting tonight at like one o'clock in the morning.

Speaking of YouTube, I recently found out that one of the kids I was supposed to be babysitting, (she is at a sleepover) apparently made some crazy ass video and posted it to YouTube.

My disclaimer: this girl is twelve years old, which makes this next part so much worse.

The girl and her friends made a video saying how they were single and "looking for love" then proceeded to give out their addresses, on mother fucking YouTube!

Not only do I think that is crazy insane for anyone to do, considering all the creeps out there in the world, but she is TWELVE!

When I was twelve, I had just started sixth grade and my free time was filled with bike riding and watching Animal Planet. To be honest, I was really late to the social media game. I didn't have a Facebook until I was almost sixteen, I never had a MySpace, and I still don't know how I feel about Twitter. The only reason I even got on YouTube was because I had a college course that required I learned how to use it, and iMovie. 

Naturally I don't understand what would possess anyone to put their address out on the internet like that. But if you are over eighteen and live in your own place, I really don't give two fucks. But if you are a kid, there should definitely be some serious spanking going on. I am completely dumbfounded by the stupidity of this little girl and her friends.

So her dad ended up having to report all the creepy ass comments going onto the video, before it was (thankfully) taken down, and all of the passwords on every computer in the house was changed plus all of the internet passwords.

Absolute stupidity.

End of the story is this: YouTube is a great power that comes with a great responsibility.

Blood Transfusions for Grandpa

So, my step-mother told me today just as I was hopping into my car from the community college that my grandpa Wayne was in the hospital.

Apparently he is super anemic and has to get blood transfusions over the next few days. My dad and Sharon went to go visit my grandpa and grandma in the hospital. I would have gone except I had a yoga final (that I totally rocked). So I am going on Friday, which is actually today about twenty-five minutes ago.

I went to the hospital once for a sick person visit, and that was for my mom when she got a viral and bacterial infection plus one or two bouts of pneumonia. It was a little scary because no one knew what was wrong with her, and the CDC still sends her letters asking if she has had any changes in her life because of her unknown illness, but she is still young, so I knew she was going to be fine after some serious medication.

My grandpa, though, will be eighty-nine on December thirteenth. He isn't someone I expect to bounce back from everything and anything. And considering how hospitals are basically Peatri Dishes for every single kind of medication resistant bacteria and virus, I don't want him hanging out there for four days.

I am just left waiting until he gets better though, which is the worst feeling in the world. I know I am usually more upbeat about things/life in general. Especially since the holidays are coming up. But this has kind of just put a giant downer on my mood. I am worried about him. He is just the most awesome person in the world. I don't want to think about the "what ifs," but anyone who knows me personally knows that I am literally going over every situation that could possibly happen in my head, good and bad.

I don't want to be depressing or anything though, for the world or for myself. So I am going to start seriously exercising again so I can make fake happiness with all those crazy exercise endorphins.

At least Sharon, who is in the medical field, can understand more of what the doctors are saying. She is keeping me in the loop. As of right now, my grandpa is feeling better after his first transfusion, and even ate all of his dinner. The doctors don't know what caused him to be so anemic though, so they are going to be running more tests on him. I hope that everything turns out okay, because I love Grandpa Wayne more than I can explain.

Maybe I will see about giving blood when I visit. I figure even if I am not a match for Grandpa, there is someone out there with their own Grandpa Wayne who needs it.

High Pitched Carolers Standing Behind Me with a Flute

Okay, I am literally, at this very moment, sitting in the lunchroom on my community college campus trying to read some other blogs that I enjoy greatly, and instead I am being horribly distracted.

Distracted by what, you ask?

These crazy ass people sitting behind me with a flute.

But let me begin the story from a half hour previous to this moment.

I went to get my usual lunch of a wrap filled with meat and cheese and mayo and a Simply Orange Juice. Then I made my was to an empty alcove filled with empty chairs. I felt safe in my empty haven, and happy I wouldn't have to make conversations with people I didn't know, and would certainly not be friending on Facebook later.

It all seemed well, as I was able to eat half my wrap and peruse the internet to my liking.

That was until this girl came out of nowhere with a guitar. And then two big black guys came over and started to play it and alternately serenade her, and then me. I smiled like the polite person I was, but I hoped they would just move to the alcove one space behind me and continue their love songs.

Instead, six other people came over, with one guy playing hackie-sack with a little skinny girl that dropped her phone four times. And then her friend in scrubs came over, which made the skinny girl with the butter fingers jump up and down and squeal loudly.

I tried to ignore them. And then some guy came up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder.

"Sorry about all this," he said smiling. I waved a hand in the air, like Don't worry, it's normal for people to collect around me in large, loud masses and serenade each other whilst playing hackie-sack and dropping their phones.

Because all of these things are totally normal.

Well after a few minutes of Butter-Fingers talking to Scrubs, everyone suddenly got up and stood behind me and thus began the guitar playing, flute blowing, high male voiced edition of christmas song caroling.

Which, once the guitar wielding girl left, has now become a mash-up of Aladdin songs, Carrie Underwood, and "Silent Night."

And they are making up their own lyrics to the "Twelve Days of Christmas."

It goes a little like this:

"Seven dudes rapping, six boxes of condoms, FIVE BAGS OF WEED, four BMW's, three dirty hoes, two fat bitches, and a blunt lit up for me!" 

Sung all by boys, in ridiculously high pitched voices. I guess I can't complain though. They don't actually sound all that bad.

Mr. Einstein

My mother and I went on a "Writing Retreat." This basically entailed renting a Kia Soul, driving to southern Missouri, and staying in a wonderful little wood cabin with a stone fireplace. We had three bottles of wine, a Rum-Runner bag of Honey Whiskey, several flavors of Kahlua, and our laptops. It was a remote enough location that there wasn't any internet or phone service to distract us.

But we did have one distraction, and that would be the bartender: Mr. Einstein.

His name was probably not Einstein, but he looked like him. And maybe a little Mark Twain-ish too. Like Mark Twain and Einstein had a baby that was really good at pouring wine and beer.

He was pretty awesome, forgetting what he had talked to us about, coming over to make conversation about books and writing. This was probably brought on because the man who owned the cabin-resort made sure that his whole family that was also staying in several different cabins knew we were there to write our asses off.

Knowing that we were trying to complete the National Novel Writing Month challenge didn't stop Mr. Einstein though.

On Friday, (the day after Thanksgiving), he came over to me while I was reading a book after feeling drained from the five thousand or so words I written earlier, and started telling me about he was so glad he was retired.

"The best thing about getting old is this, little lady," he began, tending the fire, "You can stay up all night reading a good book."

"Well, I am certainly not retired," I said, continuing the conversation, "But having responsibilities has never stopped me from staying up all night."

"Ah, well. You never had to work on the farm!"

"No, I didn't," I said, holding The Windup Girl in my lap.

"I am just telling you, it is just great how I can stay up all night reading a book. Most nights I am up until six o'clock in the morning, and then I am asleep until two in the afternoon!"

"Sounds like you are a college kid," I said with a laugh.

"Ah, well. Let me know if you girls need anything. I am the bartender you know!" I nodded and smiled. Mom was in the other room typing away, so she didn't even know about this conversation.

When Saturday night rolled around, and Mom and I decided to take another break from writing, we headed down to the dining hall and pulled out the Scrabble board to play a game. Mom was kicking my ass super hard when Mr. Einstein came over to chat some more.

"I have got to tell you," he began, "I just finished a book this morning. Stayed up until the sun came up, then retired for bed!"

"No way! Did you start it last night?" Mom gave me one of her What the fuck? smiles.

"That's right! But like I said, once you pick up a good book, you can't put it down. And the sunrise was just beautiful!" He smile and nodded, and Mom smiled back, giving me worried glances. "Anyways, I don't want to be too much of a bother. Can I bring you girls something?"

"Oh, I think I am good," I said, knowing dinner was in thirty minutes or so.

"I'm doing all right, too," Mom said. Mr. Einstein nodded, patted me on the shoulder and headed into the other room to see if anyone else needed anything. "What was that about?" Mom whispered loudly.

"Oh, we were talking last night," I said, not explaining anything, instead concentrating on the Scrabble board and my letters. I had five I's, a blank, an R, T and N.

"We didn't talk to him about books!"

"No, no. I talked to him." She looked horribly confused as I waved my hand around flippantly. "He came over last night and I chatted with him..."

"When?" It was her turn, but I was hoping to be ready for when she played. I shuffled my letters then answered her.

"After you went into the dining room so you could get internet?" I was confused about why she was so confused.

"Ooooooooooh. I thought he was going senile. I mean we had the same conversation with him twice, and then he starts up a conversation with you that doesn't make any sense. At least to me."

I laughed, "No, I knew what he was talking about." I explained about the retirement and staying up until sunrise.

"I guess we can still call him Mr. Einstein since he hasn't totally lost his marbles," Mom said, placing the coup d'etat of words on the board: HAZE going down on a triple word score, off a vertically placed ET. Fifty-five points that easily secured her winning in two more turns by a one hundred point lead.

She always has to beat me.