People often get annoyed with me; not for any one reason in particular, I just annoy people. I annoy people from my parent's home town to the point that I received threatening, disparaging emails for about a month. These emails called me a traitor to my family and a two-faced ####. I only bring it up because someone close to me called me by the same name tonight for posting a clever photo about gun control. On facebook.

I have said it once, which should be enough but some people are rather dim, I will go ahead and say it again: if you don't like your facebook notifications, that you personally set-up, then why don't you change it? I make changes to mine all the time, I can teach you how to hide me if you can't figure out how. If you are offended, enraged, or otherwise injured by looking a meme making light of stupidity then just take me the hell out of your feed. Ta-fecking-da! Problem solved.

I get tired of people bitching about me wanting to save the world like it's some sort of social sin.  Besides, I don't save the world, I save people. I know helping people is quite unfashionable right now with some crowds but it is what I do and what I've always done. I learned that from my parents; they always take care of those in need around them. Don't like it? Piss off.

I love how a few people think that just because I come from so-called republican money, I am some sort of back-stabbing, money-stealing whore that cares more about minorities and abused animals than good God-fairing white folk. I am accused of disappointing my family by becoming a bed-wetting liberal. Well, guess what? I don't want to have to identify with the moderate Dems but everyone to the right of the isle (everyone who counts anyway) seems to have lost their minds and I therefore can no longer relate to them anymore. So here we are.

All I can ask is that I am accepted for who I am: someone who helps and doesn't just talk about helping. I help real people everyday whether it is giving rides to Lafayette Transitional Housing, job interviews, or just help with grocery shopping for those who can't. I also assist with job training and babysitting so residents at our shelter can actively seek employment. I organize clothing and baby accessory drives to help families obtain the items they need to keep their kids warm and clean when they move into their transitional homes. I volunteer as much time as I can, God knows I can't just write a check to make their lives easier, so they get my time instead.

Now, I have taken some serious verbal abuse for volunteering at the shelter. I am told that as long as people like me help "them" then "they" will never help themselves, lazy pricks. But when it comes down to kids eating or not eating, I'm going to do what I can to make sure kids eat. So, you may hate me for helping people that no one else will help but I like it. I'm not going to stop doing it. And why are you even reading this if you are one of the name-calling haters? Read something uplifting about what the other side is doing like how the sequester will destroy all your working poor neighbors so they will loose their homes and go away, finally. Read something more along your speed like how GLTB kids are getting bullied in schools at an alarming rate that is growing exponentially. Read about our aging Baby-Boomers have to choose between medicine and food (lousy freeloaders). Read about how Religious-based hospitals can choose to murder a laboring mother with a dead fetus inside of her because that is what our government allows (until 2014, that is). I know that's what SOME OF you really like.

This is an open letter to all my readers: feel free to comment below.

 

So I am babysitting for a couple I know today while they are out on a date. He has been such a good baby all day long. At the time of writing this (scribbled on my flowered notepad) I'd had four-and-a-half hours of peaceful, happy baby. An occasionally hungry, poopy, and burpy baby; but a happy baby nevertheless.

One reason, I believe, we've both joyed the day and had so little fussy is partially in thanks to a product called MOBY: The Mobile Baby wrap system. MOBY is a strip of soft stretchy material  about thirty inches in width feet long. Okay, not 90 but I bet it's close to twenty, trust me: it's long. Women from Africa and Asia have been utilizing a MOBY-like wrap for eons and after trying it, am completely and totally sold on this concept of baby-wearing.

Yes baby-wearing. If it sounds like something people that eat their own placentas after childbirth are making popular on Etsy then you  are probably right. Nevertheless, this product is MOBY wrap system in available in all colors and patterns and are to be worn over a nursing shirt or regular shirt (make it a long one or tuck it in).

The cloth wraps and crosses the thorax and abdomen of the wearer, creating a 3-strap sling or harness to hold baby virtually anywhere on the front of your body, anywhere mom would normally carry her. And in case you weren't aware, baby wearing is much easier than baby carrting. In fact, my original notes for this essay were all made with a pen and paper whilst I had an infant strapped to my chest, his head resting on my shoulder as he sleeps. It is the ultimate hands-free experience for moms and nannies!

The instruction booklet for the MOBY (comes with the system and can be found on-line)  is an absolute necessity unless you already know how to tie one of these wraps. I took me several tries tro get it just right. You will need to practice befor placing a real-live baby in there. You can praqctice with a stuffed animal, doll, or very snall dog. I would not, as a catowner, recomend you practice with a cat.

Possitioning the feet correctly was the hardest for me. Baby gets a little shouty shen you crumple up their legs for too long. They get leg cramps too, you know. So I try to shift baby's feet and legs every 15-20 minutes, even if he is sleeping.

The bookless outlines exactly how to wear and use the MOBY; there are two ways of wrapping and several ways to stow baby in the safest place ever. Always assure that baby's face is visible with shin up. Knees should be above the hips and if one foot is out, the other should be out too.. Never leave baby unattended while in MOBY. :)





As I sead before, there are two methods of wrapping MOBY and you will choose which one you and baby like best after some practice and test runs. I love this product and would recommend it to anyone with a baby.

Zombie movies are about people who deal with zombies but this movie is about the zombie experience. They finally got " Zombies Are  People Too" right, right? Where the Romero remake of Land of the Dead failed so miserably,  Warm Bodies had me bawling twenty minutes in and laughing throughout. Instead of grabbing you by the neck and screaming into your ear that zombies can be a culture, this movie leads you there gently with light narration and intriguing camera framing. Aside from the cacophony of coughing in the theater, this movie had me completely immersed. The pace is burning, the plot lines: solid. Warm Bodies is, in my opinion, the "Feel Good Zombie Movie of the Year." Not since Zombieland, have we laughed and cried so hard. Kudos to Jonathan Levine for a job well done. Pay especial attention to Daily Show correspondent Rob Corddry as the best friend. What? You think zombies don't have best friends? Racist.

Hipsters Unite, or whatever...

The Goths of the 1990’s and Emo kids of the 2000’s have either joined society as productive citizens or the newest popular social movement. Enter the hipsters, easily identified by unwashed, androgynous hair styles and hand-made T-shirts bearing quotes from movies YOU have never heard of. A room temperature Pabst Blue Ribbon in hand, hipsters usually gather in uncool places and converse about uncool topics, because it is cool for them to do so. Hipsters have three prominent characteristics: they use the word “irony” incessantly (and often incorrectly), avoid anything considered culturally “mainstream”, and have a fashion sense that hovers somewhere between homeless cartoon-pirate and seventeenth century scientist. When driving by the record store, you might ask yourself, “are those people standing outside hipsters?” The following essay can help you make the distinction.

 

Let the profiling begin: members of the hipster culture love the word “irony”. First of all, the definition of the word irony (using verbiage that implies an opposite meaning, often for the effect of humor) is usually lost on this crowd. They apply the word to any situation that could be considered remotely coincidental, then pat each other on the back for being so ironic and creative. Hipsters might even refer to burnt toast as ironic, in an ironic manner. Confused yet? Secondly, hipsters bring irony to whole new level by labeling inanimate objects as symbols of irony. T-shirts with no words or graphics are ironic T-shirts (I thought they were Hanes). A piano bench with a piece of barn wood sitting on it can be ironic as well. I wonder how many ironic objects I have in my home right now; I could be sitting on a mountain of irony and not even know it. Thirdly, any mustache (real or fake) is now an ironic mustache to the hipster. A sharpie mustache drawn on a person or object is considered especially ironic for some reason. I googled “ironic mustache” and received 1,300,000 results from my request. That is quite a few ironic mustaches.

 

 

In addition to misplaced irony, the hipster movement subscribes to a particular and delicately balanced fan base. To begin, hipsters prefer “underground” pop-culture and abhor anything that can be considered “mainstream” or popular. They sing the praises of bands, books, and movies that average people have never heard of. Once their favorite hipster heroes become popular and start collecting paychecks, they are quickly abandoned by their hipster brethren. The sense of irony is lost on the culture responsible for placing those heroes in the public spotlight. In addition to simply avoiding mainstream pop-culture, hipsters spend huge chunks of time rehashing how they were in to “fill in the blank” before anyone else. Instead of celebrating the fact that their cultural movement is responsible for their heroes becoming famous, hipsters label their former idols as “sell-outs” and the newer, mainstream fan base as “drones”. The final result of the above mentioned pop-culture process is a race to first find an artist of some kind that no one else has heard of, then claim in it the name of hipsters everywhere only to denounce it three months later when the average people catch on. It is a vicious pop-culture circle in the hipster world (is it ironic that the “pop” in pop-culture stands for popular?).

The final identifying trait of the hipster is a unique sense of fashion that is neither unique or fashion. To begin, hipsters love Steampunk and Steampunk accessories. For those that do not know, Steampunk is a sub-culture that focuses on Jules Vernian historic science-fiction where the steam engine is King. Therefore, old-timey goggles and monocles are very popular with the hipster crowd. The next hipster fashion faux pas involves anything considered vintage, no matter how hideous. Vintage clothing is usually purchased in head shops or at Goodwill and most likely found itself in said shops after having been pulled from a dumpster. Hipsters call their vintage clothing style unique even though they are all wearing the same thing. The last (and silliest) fashion trait of the hipster movement is wearing clothing that serves no practical purpose. Case-in-point, hipsters wear sweater cowls with no sweater attached, just a dumpy, ironic T-shirt underneath. Forget fingerless gloves, hipsters were glove-less fingers which are basically little, knitted tubes you slide over your fingers that attach not nothing (like the cowls). Hipsters also have an affinity for shirtsleeves with no shirt, usually held together by woven straps. Hipster fashion is probably something I will never understand.

 

 

The hipster pop-culture movement can be difficult to follow as their likes and dislikes are constantly changing. Now that you have a description, you should be able to spot a hipster from an ironic stone’s throw away. Hipsters love and are always talking about how ironic the world is, worship artists you have never heard of, and have a sense of fashion all to themselves. The question I have to ask myself is, “since I have traditionally chosen the ‘path less traveled by,' followed bands no one has ever heard of, and quote obscure movie lines, does that make me a fantastic hypocrite or their De Facto Queen?”

 

Why Education Is Important to Today’s Society.

Now more than ever, people of all ages around the country and abroad, are flocking to college campuses in droves. The economy is circling the proverbial toilet bowl and the job market is fully saturated. Homeowners owe more on their mortgages than their houses are currently worth. The majority of American voters have completely lost faith in government at the Federal level. Yet, one asset we still have as a country (in the Midwest, especially) is excellent colleges abound. US cities and countrysides are virtually peppered with institutions of higher learning. The people who survive this national economic event will have taken advantage of time off work or government stimulus to further their education, and the country will be better because of it. Education is important in today’s society because it is education that will see us through this mess by opening doors to new experiences for you and those around you; improving your salary at your current job; or carving the path to your new career. Recent weeks and months have shown us much tragedy, but our own first-responders have shown us that education can equal survival.

 

To begin, the decision to further your education will open the door to new experiences, like meeting new people, joining clubs, and attending community events. Meeting new people at school is the first step in forming professional relationships with future coworkers. Knowing there are people you like to interact with makes studying more fun and helps drive healthy competition because you are all working toward a common goal. There is also the possibility that you may get to work with some of them as well, so it never hurts to make some friends. The next opportunity to open doors through education lies with clubs and organizations. An academic club is an excellent entity for discovering what the upper-class-men are working on and showing you what to expect in future classes. Clubs and organizations are also great for obtaining new skills offered outside the classroom like CPR certifications and resume building workshops. The third phase of new experiences in higher education occurs when opportunities to branch out into the community arise.  For example, attending a Women in Businessc luncheon would be a great experience and opportunity to meet female business owners and professionals while participating in a seminar led by local health-care workers could introduce you to people already working in the medical field.  Exposure to new people and experiences is paramount when pursuing higher education, especially after a lapse in enrollment.

 

In addition to having new opportunities through networking, choosing to pursue higher education can result in a higher-paying salary at your current job through obtaining a certificate or license, expanding your current knowledge base, or receiving your degree. Many colleges and universities offer training programs in which the end result is a certificate, licence, or other accolades. For instance, people wishing to sell homes must first obtain a license to do so and nursing assistants need certification to perform certain duties, depending on where they work. These programs can last as little as a couple of hours, or take up to a few years to complete. Higher education can also improve your over-all knowledge in your occupation or chosen field.  Law enforcement officials, educators, sellers of insurance, and licensed pilots (to name a few) must constantly stay up-to-day with ever changing laws and regulations. Being the first employee at your firm with premiere business strategies and updated procedure methods make you more valuable to your bosses and is often awarded monetarily. Now that you have obtained additional certification and expanded your knowledge base in your field of choice, you might as well stay on and get that degree! Receiving your degree, or multiple degrees, can do nothing but improve your station at work and therefore, in lcife. With new degrees often come new job titles, promotions, and an increase in pay and is that not why we are all here? Sally Struthers nailed it when she said, “do you want to make more money? Sure. We all do!” If you did not read that aloud in Sally Struthers' voice, I am very disappointed in you.

 

Finally, some people (including myself) choose to further their educations because they wish to start completely over in a new work environment, a new job description, and a better career. First of all, certain occupations are wrought with the same day-today experiences and typical routines; they become boring or tedious after awhile regardless of employer. Obtaining a degree can open up the possibility to work under a brand new set of circumstances in a different type of environment in a completely new field. To continue, possessing a degree can land you a job title you may have never considered or even heard of before. “Hi. I’m Eileen and and I am the director of pharmaceutical inventory management and patient care relations specialists, please step into my office.” You think you can get a title (or office) such as this without a degree? I think not. Finally, there is arguably few events in life more exciting than the prospect of starting a better career.

A change of pace is almost always good; new-found respect, promotions, and titles are even better; yet nothing can top waking up in the morning knowing you are headed to a job you love, that will love you back. Ask anyone who has been there and they will tell you, “it is totally worth it.”

    There can be no doubt that the world is in a frightening state at the moment and is bound to get worse before it gets better. With all the opportunities to improve ourselves intellectually, there is simply no excuse to accept that we are given a “station in life.” We, as a nation of young and old, must face the reality that higher learning could be our salvation. I think it is time we, as a nation, decide to stop complaining about the dire straits and commit ourselves to making it better.

How to write an essay

An essay is a collection of words and paragraphs that presents itself in an organized manner in triplet form. Essays can be easy to write when creativity is stifled and sentence structure remains as sterile and inelegant as possible. Proper essays contain three main sections: an introduction, a body, and conclusion. The three main sections of the essay are then sub-divided into threes to complete the mathematical and literary function.

 

The first paragraph in an essay is the introduction. The intro-paragraph should include opening remarks on the subject, the continued mental capacity to count to three, and a developed  thesis statement. To begin, opening remarks are thoughts and ideas from the writer based on the essay subject. Secondly, the ability to count to three is required to continue the three points that will compose the body of the essay. Thirdly, the thesis must incorporate the three points.

 

To continue, the second portion of the essay (the body) should contain three paragraphs detailing the three points outlined earlier. The first paragraph of the body will contain information concerning the first point. The second paragraph should highlight the second point. The third paragraph will explain the third point, and transitional phrases are required throughout and should be based on the integer  “3.”

 

As a finale, the closing  paragraph in the essay will regurgitate the three main points detailed in the body. One sentence will contain a paraphrased list of the main points taken directly from the introduction. The second sentence could contain personal remarks on the subject or issue. The third sentence in the conclusion should be omitted completely as it might upset the delicate balance of 15% intro, 10% conclusion.

To summarize essay writing: first write bleak or desolate descriptions of the topic in as few words as possible. Next, organize the three main points into a single sentence that is neither complicated nor meaningful. Then finally, close the essay with an arbitrary quote or concept that is neither remarkable nor noteworthy.  

Makes me wish I had just slept in

I have been sitting back idly, watching, waiting, and reading, staying mostly silent as I "take it all in."

When I woke up yesterday the news was already on. I've taken to falling asleep with one news network or another droning on in the background pretty-much all the time so it wasn't a surprise that talking heads were the first thing I saw upon waking. I was surprised, however that said heads were talking about something other than the "cliff" or the "slope" or whatever. Right away I knew something was very wrong, that something very very bad had just happened.

Usually, when I first wake up in the morning, I spend a few minutes reacquainting myself with the waking world, separating the fractured memories of recent dreams from the reality of the day. I snatch a sliver of dream out of the air a moment before it floated out of reach, to disappear forever. The second-long dream that I barely remember consists of one thing and one thing only: children flying.

Ten, Twelve, I don't know how many children flew over my head, holding hands and screaming (with joy, pain, sorrow?). They flew over my head in V-formation; I had to duck to keep from getting kicked by a tiny dangling sneaker spangled in pink and blue hearts. I ducked and by the time I stood up to look, they were banking right and flying, literally, off into the sunset. After the briefest moment, they were gone.

I rubbed my eyes and sat down to watch, what I absolutely knew was going to be, the ensuing horror.

Hemp: "The Other Resource!"

Between hemp and bamboo, material and useful commodity production could skyrocket in under 24 months. Our government should be funding this and teaching the planet's best farmers here, in the US, how to grow it on their land with as little modification to the facilities as possible.


If you know me at all, you know that my husband and I are (and plan to remain) childfree but I can't help but worry for future generations, in the US and abroad. People occasionally get all shouty with me, asking me why I care since I don't EVEN have any children. Almost like parenthood is a basic requirement to be human, or a good Christian, or have an opinion, or whatever.


But I love most kids I get to know. My cousins' kids make me smile so much, my face hurts on the way home after every visit. I've watched closely as my best friend-in-the world raises children that I held when they were hours old. I love these kids and like to think that they love me. I want them to be able to play outside with their great-grand-children without wearing a re-breather and a bio-chem suit. I would like to know they have the option to vacation in Florida without SCUBA gear or the use of a pressurized submarine, if they want.


There are many little problems with how our country's been run, thus far and recently. They are small problems and we can fix them with little effort, loss, or "sin," or whatever. We should make our Lawmakers accountable for providing our citizens with a healthier economy, better and more efficient natural resources, sustainable farming, and an honest evaluation and complete revamping of all aspects of the US infrastructure.


Thank you for taking the time read to read my ramblings. Anyone who wants to discuss these and other social issues on my page are welcome. Anyone who wants to call me names and yell at me: be prepared to answer a pop quiz about this subject. So study hard; there's gonna be a test!

Just one more thing...

Okay. I have been silent about all of this for far too long.

 

 

"I struggled with it myself for a long time, but I came to realize that life is that gift from God. And, I think, even when life begins in that horrible situation of rape, that it is something that God intended to happen." – Richard Mourdock, Indiana

 

Claiming lack of clarity in his words coupled with people twisting and “putting said words into his mouth,” Richard Mourdock speaks from his heart when he states that life begins at conception and is a gift from God; even in cases of rape (does that include incest with a minor or no?). The question begs: does this man actually believe that rape is a gift from God if it results in a pregnancy. That rape? Rape and the result of said rape? Is a gift from God? Like Paul Ryan, Mourdock seems to forget that pregnancy requires a penis, every time and that forcing a woman to have a child she does not want is a form of punishment.

 

Unlike Paul Ryan, Mitt Romney’s uterus-hating running-mate whos platform includes requiring laboring mothers to die with their stillborn baby, struggling fetus, or ectopic zygote implantation; Richard Mourdock stated in the same spiel that he supports abortion only in cases where the mother’s life is in "immediate danger." A loaded phrase, that one:"Immediate danger."  Does that include a woman who has several children and has been advised by he physician of fourteen years, that she cannot safely carry another pregnancy to term? Does it include the single mom who won't be able to afford to feed her other children if forced into parturition? What about the woman (or girl) who's mental health hangs in the balance after rape or incest? The diabetic woman who's first baby almost killed her? An 11-year-old child? Your wife? Your mother? Your sister?.... Your daughter? Any of these people deserve this war on vaginas?

 

Speaking of which: A few words on Paul Ryan…

This diplomat believes that rather than performing life-saving (yes, I said lifesaving) Abortion Care (go ahead and grumble about how filthy, disgusting and socially inappropriate the word “Abortion” is to you. In the field of Medicine, the word is used) in the above listed cases: women should sacrifice (READ: be forced to sacrifice) their lives for a dying,  or nonviable fetus. Certain people in political power in our country seem to think they should control what happens inside women’s bodies. Who do these bodies belong to anyway? Should some religious throwback leftover from dysfunctional puritan times be allowed to make medical decisions on your behalf and without your permission? I don’t think so.

Now we are back with Richard Mourdock from Indiana, recently endorsed by the Romney campaign, but even more recently denounced and distanced from the mainstream GOP. Even though Paul Ryan’s views on abortion seem to more in line with Mourdock than with Presidential hopeful Mitt Romney, we haven’t heard much from him on the subject. Yet.

People often argue with me over the use of semantics in debate; whether-or-not the actual meaning of the words spoken or the intended message of the speaker holds more value depends on the beholder. I believe words themselves, combined with context, clarity, and honesty, carry a message bearing a person’s intent, character, and appeal. In the cases of Ryan, Romney and Mourdock, words have proven to be of the loaded variety often enough in recent weeks.  

To those who actually believe that these words don’t matter, that words are just words, know this:

Words have a way of becoming policy with these clowns. Much like excrement, some words stick.

I think a lot of voters are under the impression that the doctrine these men intend to put in place might not actually put every female in the United Sates at risk, medically and psychologically speaking. However, the CDC reports that women and girls forced in one way or another into pregnancy, delivery, and birth against their will are far more likely to later get into heavy drug use, become sexual deviants, suffer from depression; get involved in prostitution and/or commit suicide. Is that not enough risk for anyone?

Some women’s bodies were simply not built for multiple, or even a single, pregnancy. Forcing victims of rape, incest, and the very, very young into growing a fetus in her womb, against her will, telling her she is evil, a slut and a whore for being in her position is damaging to the mind and the body. Men will never understand the emotional roller-coaster a woman’s body goes through during the many, many stages of pregnancy. We are hardwired to sustain life unconditionally, to propagate the species and populate the earth. However, we live in an advanced and socially sophisticated society where we have the freedom to assemble for protests filled with hate while a woman’s right to choose medically what happens to her body is under full attack.

Now I could go on-and-on for eons on matters such as these; figuratively and not literally, Right Angie?

^^)

But I will spare you more-of-the-same; instead I move on to say that it is time to move on to something else entirely. So moving on... To the the subject of of signed pledges from members of congress, House and Senate Repubs, vowing to make Obama a one-term President. And making it their number-one priority over any-and-all else. Voting records show how many Obama proposals were shot down by party leaders as suffering from not being proposed by Obama. Impeding the political process at the expense of taxpayers is an immoral act with the air of criminality. The Filibuster is being abused, now worse than ever.  

Your people lost last time. I’m sorry about that, but these guys need not be in office. In fact, I think they need to read their bibles with a little more scrutiny.Some have dangerous ideas that could place us under religious doctrine akin to that of Syria and Iran. The people the GOP has in office right now seem to be losing their fecking minds so find us someone else in four years. Then you can give it another go. Until then, please stop badgering me about my views. My conscience is completely clear and I am confident my remarks are accurate and well-researched.

 

Drops microphone, walks away..

 

 

 

Yet Another Useless Talent for the Cat Lady

So, for the second time in my adult life, I had a metaphysical experience regarding clairvoyant visions and movie quotes.  I will tell both stories but let me explain a little about myself first: concerning the paranormal, I don’t have a psychic-sensitive bone in my body. My team calls me the “ghost repellant”  as nothing from the other side wants to have anything to do with me most of time, children and animals representing the majority of my personal experiences on cases.

I do, however, consider myself to be a spiritually passionate person. I meditate to clear my head, prepare for my day/week, and wind down at the end of the day (still takes 100 mg of Seroquel to put me down for the count) but that’s neither here nor there. We are here to discuss psychic visions and how they apply to everyday life (which is not at all; I apparently am only psychic when absolutely nothing important is at stake and I am completely alone, without a witness to collaborate the experience).

And speaking of experiences; the first one goes something like this…

It was 2004 or 2005, I was cruising solo in my little bungalow on Kossuth Street and had just gotten out of the bath. I shrugged on my fluffy, blue bathrobe and grabbed the only towel in the washroom (which happened, as it were, to be of the bath sheet variety. As in very big). I put it on my head turban-style and headed down the hallway toward the kitchen. Now, I don’t have a full length mirror in my hallway (or anywhere for that matter) but for some reason I imagined what I must look like walking through the hall in my fluffy robe, slippers, and ginormous towel on my head. And I think of Ferris Beuller and his famous day off. Remember when he’s sluffing around the house, waiting for Cameron to come pick him up, despite whatever his diastolic must be? He’s all like: “I got a day off here and time’s a wasting. Guess I’ll get dressed an go play the clarinet.”  So I’m walking down the hall and to no one what-so-ever, I say out loud: “’I don’t believe in Beetles, I just believe in me.’ John Lennon said that. He was the Walrus. I could be the Walrus, I’d still have to bum rides off of people.” 

The entire time I was talking, I had this overwhelming feeling of déjà vu (normally, déjà vu can be easily explained as the brain is simply misfiling brand new information as “memory”. Except when it can’t. This time there was something different going on; like someone was playing me like a tape recorder. And as quickly as the feeling came over me and I spoke out loud, it left and I felt fine again. Went back to my room to get dressed. It was my first day off in about 17 days and I was itching to crawl back in bed with my little kitty cat and nap the day away. As I was putting on clean pj’s, I stumbled (‘magine that) and stepped on the television remote. I had an older tube television in my room back then so the sound came on first and the picture followed about 30-45 seconds later once the power button on the ancient remote was pushed. As I am picking myself off the floor *sigh* I hear Mr. Broderick say the following phrases: “’I don’t believe in Beetles, I just believe in me.’ John Lennon said that. He was the Walrus. I could be the Walrus, I’d still have to bum rides off of people.” 

That eerie feeling I’d had moments before returned like a blow to the solarplexus and I almost became ill for a second. My head pounded and my tummy got a rumbly. I bent down to pick up the remote I’d stepped on and pressed the power button again. Nothing happened. So I walked to the TV and shut it off. The queasy feeling left once again and I was left alone to my confusion about what had just transpired. One of the first things I realized was that nothing like this had ever happened to me before. The second was the fact that that channel should not have even came on at all. Because I only had basic, basic cable (it was all I could afford on my own; I didn’t even have internet back then because it was too expensive), whenever the TV was off for more than a minute or two, the box reverted back to channel 4 (or was it 5?). It was the channel with local community 411 (and wanted criminals in the afternoon!) scrolling across the bottom, time and temp up in the right hand corner. But that wasn’t the channel that was on. I pushed the Power button on the TV once more as the remote had stopped wanting to work. Now I don’t know how much time had passed since the was turned off but while the picture went from dim and fuzzy to clear as it caught up with the sound, good ol’ channel  5 filled the screen . I hit the PRV button on the old console TV and the picture flipped back to TBS (which was channel  13 or 14, I can’t remember exactly) where Ferris was playing the clarinet, claiming he never had one lesson.

I let the feeling of being a player piano slide away slowly as I shrugged into a comfy sweatshirt and placed a towel over the pillow, my hair was still wet. At some point, as I struggled to empty my head, the towel had fallen off. In fact, I didn’t even find it until the next day as it somehow ended up under the bed. Snuggled in with kitty I, eventually, took my nap.

Over the years, that experience has stayed fresh in my mind like it was yesterday. That strange feeling of being watched and controlled or whatever still freaks me out a little. And I’m not a little disappointed that the one and only psychic experience I’ve ever had was so lame in content and usefulness. Oh well. Fast forward to present day: I’m sitting up on my porch and have been since 4 am. I guess the nap I had yesterday threw off my circadian rhythms. No bother. I spent the wee smalls playing fetch with my wild-ass Cassius. Funny story: I had to put him in time out twice in the past 12 hours for being a shit. It involves my taking his fetching wand and sitting on it until he calms down; usually works too! He lies there and takes his punishment almost like he understands growling and posturing don’t fly to well with mama.

So I’m sitting out here on my porch, listening to the birds chirp and waiting for the rest of the world around me to wake, playing Angry Birds. Cassius, his punishment long forgotten, begins to push and rub on my feet. He opens his mouth and starts rubbing his gums on my toes (cats do this to mark you as their special pet without having to pee on you) and shoving his fetching wand at me like “hey!  You gonna play with me or not? Rawwhaah rawahhhhhaaaaaahhhhh. Mreweeeeh. Meeeeehhhhh!”

“Not now, Cassius! Playing Birds!”

“Rawwhaah rawahhhhhaaaaaahhhhh. Mreweeeeh. Meeeeehhhhh!  Play! With! Me!”

“Unghhhhh. No."

“ Rawwhaah rawahhhhhaaaaaahhhhh. Mreweeeeh. Meeeeehhhhh!”

So I start thinking about the scene from Just Married where Ashton accidentally kills Brittany Murphy’s dog when he throws Baggs’ fetching toy out the window. The non-ground-level window. Whoops. And this feeling of déjà vu comes over almost immediately and I feel like a puppet for about 30 seconds (could have been longer but hard to say). The feeling quickly passed. I turned and grabbed my Powerade then drained it. I told kitty, “you’re name isn’t Baggs; it’s Cassie.” He replies with a whine-mreow  as I got up to go inside to fetch another water, opened the door and walked inside. Guess what’s on HBO, on the last channel I was watching over three hours ago. Guess which part of the movie was playing. Kutcher is coming clean on the 60 inch screen and telling Brittany how her dog really died. He had previously blamed a squirrel.

Whatever. I’m over it now but am still a little pissy that I can’t channel anything useful. I did, however write down two numbers that have been coming up a lot lately. Think I’ll try for the lottery next week. AS soon as I conjure up a few more numbers, that is.

Have a great weekend, everybody.

There's a Zombie on your lawn

There's a zombie on your lawn.
This is our new garden zombie; his name is Zed Head. Each morning, I come out to the front porch with my coffee and watch people commute and start their day. I wish I had a dollar for every laugh, photo, and frightened squeal Zed Head gets every day. A German Shepard even growled at him.
At first I was nervous about what the neighbors would say. I was afraid they would make me take him in (where he would surely fall prey to kitty-related douchebaggery in short order). But everyone in the neighborhood seems to like Zed, like they are proud to be Zed's neighbor.

Watching people react to Zed's life-like form appear to crawl through my brick red mulch has made what amounts to a couple really shitty days seem tolerable, even a little fun.

Prepping for draught or floods or zombies or whatever

Spur-of-the-moment garden project

So this is the project I took on after class today (it rained, my yard flooded).

I began a permanent water reclamation system.

Breaking shit

Barrel parts

Assembled Water Barrel

Water barrels blend in with the HVAC and junk

Huge puddle here today after an eave snapped from the weight of elevendy-billion sodden pine needles. Had to battle the flood with a small broom to keep the downstairs dry.

I now have a system capable of collecting, distributing, and storing 150 gallons of reclamation water with about one inch of rain.

And it's pretty

Walmart: A reputationin crisis

Walmart, the largest corporation on planet Earth, is once again taking steps to insure its employees are less likely to be compensated for anything other than hours worked at a nominal wage, adding stigma to the company’s already volatile reputation as an evil corporation. Walmart of Texas has voluntarily dropped out of the state’s workers compensation program due to rising costs of on-the-job injuries. The company will offer alternative benefits over which it will have full autonomy to deny or reduce award claims as it sees fit. According to Becca Aaronson of The Texas Tribune, the multibillion dollar conglomerate has joined 15% of employers in Texas who refuse to offer workers compensation benefits for employees who sustain injury or illness on the job through a state-monitored program; Texas is the only state in the union which allows their companies to abstain from these programs. Under the privately run (and completely self-governed) plan, Walmart workers who are injured in the workplace stand to lose almost $100,000.00 in recovery and compensation funds as compared to the state run system. PartnerSource, a company that designs private workers compensation programs for Fortune 500 companies in Texas, built the Walmart plan as a cost-saving initiative to eliminate employee fraud and “restore the balance between adequate benefits and employee accountability.” The April 2012 article goes on to highlight opponents’ views of the privately run systems as “a real threat” to businesses and employees elsewhere as CEOs scramble to cut cost costs across the board in order to compete. The decision by Walmart of Texas to, once again, cut funding for employee benefits is merely one of hundreds throughout the country, fueling the proverbial fire and enticing critics and advocates to act. Will the world’s biggest multinational corporation continue to deface itself in the public eye? How far is this company willing to push the envelope to pad its bottom line (Aaronson, 2012)?
In addition to the recent move in Texas, Walmart has lowered the amount of health insurance coverage full and part-time employees have access to while raising the costs of premiums and co-pays. In October of 2011, Walmart announced the changes to its employees’ benefits packages would take effect during the open enrollment period at a cost of nearly three times the inflation rate to the average Walmart employee. Salaried managers will continue to receive health insurance benefits on day one of employment yet hourly full and part-time employees are forced to wait six months to a year for access to decreased benefits at a much higher cost (Kim, 2011).
Walmart’s reputation took another serious blow in 2011 when lawyers representing countless female employees filed a class action lawsuit against the company. The original lawsuit, which was thrown out by the Supreme Court in July of last year, has since been replaced with an “armada” of detailed lawsuits grouping the plaintiffs in similar classes according to case. The lawsuit for the state of California alone has more than 90,000 current and former employees seeking restitution for discrimination and harassment.
“Joseph M. Sellers, one of the plaintiffs’ lawyers, said the new lawsuit was specifically tailored to address the Supreme Court’s concerns. He said the plaintiffs were subject to the same decision makers and that there was some sort of overall animus directed at the women.
A California district manager for Sam’s Club said he had paid a female employee less than a male counterpart because the male manager “supports his wife and two kids,” the lawsuit says.

The lawsuit suggests that such attitudes were pervasive companywide. At a 2004 meeting of district managers, for instance, Thomas Coughlin, then chief executive of Wal-Mart Stores, told the group that the key to their success was “single focus to get the job done. “Women tend to be better at information processing,” he said, according to the lawsuit. “Men are better at focus single objective.”
Regional Vice Presidents in California have been accused of paying female employees less than male counterparts due to the complications of “family commitment.” Lawyers representing the plaintiffs in this case are confident the new lawsuits address the concerns expressed by the Supreme Court which resulted in the original case’s dismissal. The vote on the matter was 5-4 in favor of the dismissal. Will the outcome of these lawsuits result in further hatred for the Walmart Corporation (Martin, 2011)?
The future of Walmart’s precarious relationship with the public remains to be seen. With great power comes great responsibility and public outcry over perceived atrocities seems to gain momentum with each shady move the company makes. However, in the end: money talks and that other thing does that other thing. As long as people continue to vote with their hard-earned dollars by shopping with Walmart, the powers that be have no reason to change their policies toward employee compensation and discrimination. Many argue that government intervention or the creation of a Worker’s Union will fix Walmart’s problematic image while opponents of both insist it will only add insult to injury, much like placing a Band-Aid on a broken leg. What does the future hold in store (no pun intended) for the Walmart Corporation? We wait with bated breath.

Aaronson, B. (2012, April 10). Walmart stirs concern over workers’ compensation system. The Texas Tribune.
Kim, S. (2011, October 21). Walmart Cuts Employee Health Care Benefits. ABC News-Blogs.
Martin, A. (2011, October 27). Female Wal-Mart Employees File New Bias Case. The New York Times.

Have to admit, it's getting better. It's getting better all the time

Wow. The past two weeks have been, for lack of a better phrase, amazaballz. We've come into a mountain of equement, more than we could ever hoped for, for investigating reports of the paranormal. And thanks to the biggest LPRS benefactors, we were able to afford to purchase the equipment. We have been cordially invited to join team members from Walbash Paranormal at Waverly Hills Sanitarium in the foothills of Kentucky this month.

A huge, HUGE, thanks goes out to James and Denny for deeming us qualified to participate in your investigation.I am sencerely hoping for an alliance of some sort developing between the premire and most experienced,well-trained paranormal investigators in the Greater Laffy Area. I think members of both groups could be very successful in the field and possibly be a part of ground breaking discoveries. What WE need is sponsorship in the form of trades as community partners in a limited capacity. Share and share alike. Mutually beneficial. What I wouldn't do to get envolved with new groups consisting of flag-ship hosts and resident experts, property owners, and researchers, vendors, and authors, and other businesses. I have so many wonderful ideas and plans in my head, they are a little so many that I loose track of them befor they make it to the page. The ideas that have made it so far (coupled with fact that life is not shitting all over us right now)are pretty good ideas and I hope they all translate well as they become realized. I have high expectations; I hope I'm not let down.

I spent the better part of my Spring Break from classes, digging in the dirt. Gardening is such a fantastic hobby. It gets me outside, gets me some much-needed exercise (was ill with a debilitating gut Demon for several days leading up to and including finals week). I had taken full spectrum antibiotics to combat an upper respiratory, sinus, and ear infections that had me running at about 60% capacity. I didn't take the necessary precautions of eating yogurt, cheese, and other probiotic foods and supplements. The result was agonizing pain and spasms thoughout my digestive tract that kept all my activities limited and difficult. The most mundane tasks became excruciating if not soley uncomfortable. The day I began to recover and resume some sort of normallacy, I shed tears of joy.

Catch-Up Time

Hello, Married With Kittiehs. Long time, no chitty. And I have no excuse for my lack of proper attention. None what-so-ever except that... Well, I along with my husband, am attempting to align all aspects of my/our life into some semblance of order in a universe that consists of pseudo-chaos most days. Each time I attain a small taste of victory, life leaves another steaming pile of poo on my back step (metaphorically speaking. Of course the cats like to present us with similar gifts of the tangible and stinky variety).

Josh and I, along side countless numbers of friends, family members, peers, and neighbors, are trying our best to better our lives, station-wise. My school work keeps me busy and challenged yet becomes exponentially difficult as the weeks race by. The flood damage in the basement is 95% complete but the renovation overhaul is pricey and inconvenient. Josh's health is improving all the time however, his team, and I do mean team, of physicians has yet clear him for workies. The red tape to keep the
lights on is borderline oppressive.

My school keeps me continually occupied and equally stressed. I remember, just a few short months ago, boasting to my classmates, peers, and mentors that I could take college level classes as a payed occupation and remain content and stress-free. I honestly cannot comprehend how those of you who manage to balance: school work, full or part-time jobs, children, and other obligations concurrently. I know I have the reputation of a frumpy disliker of children and I forget sometimes to give credit where credit is definitely due. Therefore I tip my proverbial hat to you ladies and gents collectively who succeed in pulling it off (or puffball ponytail, as-it-were). That having been said, let me warn you all that I will soon be hounding you for study dates and begging your company for working lunches. Thank you all in advance and to those of you that have helped me pick up my feet these last few weeks. I hope I get a chance soon to return the favors and provide something of use. Moving on to the condition of the house.

The contractor I hired last Summer to pour a slab of concrete meant to stave off minor, once-a-year flooding turned out to be completely incompetent. Made my previous contractor look like Ty Pennington. I requested that my back stoop be re poured at a 2.5% grade toward the slope of the driveway and away AWAY from the foundation of the house. He poured it in the exact opposite direction. That day it rained. The front corner of the basement, located directly under the back/main entrance of the house, was damp from the lamenent flooring, up through drywall, smootching the ceiling, down to the 2X4s. There was significant evidence of brief flooding throughout the basement along with a few standing puddles. I flipped the hell out and called up Damon-who-goes-by-"Red" and told him about the aquarium that plagued half my home. He said he would be by to fix it the second the sun rose the following morning. I did not hear from him again for 48 hours. In the meantime, it rained eight more inches and my friend Erin was furious due to a badly poured concrete slab in her backyard. A slab poured by Red the day before he did mine. And like my instructions for the work to be completed, he completely disregarded Erin's request for a level slab in which to install her kid's pool and a basketball goal. What she received was chunk of cement, at the wrong angle, in the wrong spot, not properly braced, with the wrong finish, and not a level square foot to be found. Now he's hiding from both of us. I got him to call back by threatening to call the union and report his illegal side-business. By the time the issue had been resolved at my house with a re pour that looked like hell and a completely ruined basement, Erin was getting phone calls from the concrete company. Red had put a stop on his personal check made out to the concrete folks for Erin's slab and they were coming for their property if she didn't pay up. Wait. What? Erin took Red to court over the concrete money he stole by cashing her check and stopping his own. My homeowner's insurance failed to cover contractual douchbaggery and the inspection I had could not lay the burden of guilt on my badly poured stoop.

The damage removal process has been expensive and time consuming. We tried very hard to salvage as much material as possible to save on costs down the road.The people we have working with us on the house are hardworking and trustworthy if not cheap. So far ,we have all the sub-floor plumbing in place
and have purchase two toilets and a tub with all the trimmings for our soon-to-be full and half baths. Our six month to one year plan involves a full conversation of the basement living space into an income property where Josh and I will live, opening up the main floor as a rental. The main floor is fully renovated and gorgeously decorated; I've come a long was since purple and metallic gold thanks to my straight guy with the queer eye (its okay, they're taking it back). I think my upper floor living space would make a lovely home for one to three people, if they're a good fit.

As I mentioned, Josh's condition is still improving. He rarely needs his O2 supplement and rarer still for more than 20 minutes give or take. Our first evening in Florida, Josh walked just over a mile and trodded further still the following days. The fresh air, warm temperatures, good company, and fun outings agreed with us both and collectively was just what the doctor ordered.However, the demo/reno taking place in the basement is spewing dust and gunk throughout the house, reeking havoc on two sets of human, six sets of feline, one set of reptile, and oodles of fishy lungs. I keep getting sinus infections that make maintaining my perfect attendance a challenge some days. The hot/cold snaps are confusing the local flora and fauna into all sorts of shenanigans that makes my eyes water and my nose a faucet.

Despite the aforementioned tribulations, Aunt Beckie is still asking "please, Jesus, leave a message at the tone" followed by "to leave a callback number, press 5." She swears she's not done yet and could she please have some more time; I see her as much as I can but not as much as I should. This business with the refinance for the house is absolutely exhausting. I could have a student loan cleared almost immediately and would abandon the whole stupid process if I could afford to loose $500 in earnest money. Correlating our tax information is a fret noir in its own right. Josh has more W-2s than we have cats and I have no idea what manner of tax bracket in which we Will fall. Our budding paranormal research group is doing just that. Budding and sprouting and scattering our best talent and good friends in the wind as army families are want to do.

Throughout our own personal hurdles, Aunt Beckie keeps powering on. Some days, when we visit, you wouldn't even know she's been ill. She's as tough a gal as I've ever known and motivates me to persevere. Even as she lays in her hospital bed, day after day, unable to move her legs, she encourages me to study hard, continue to live a healthier lifestyle, love my family with all my heart, and speak up for those who can't always speak up for themselves. I love spending time with you but would prefer to do it chilling on the couch while eating gluten free snacks and watching "The Simpson's."

I recently (read: last December) began the tedious task of refinancing my mortgage. I understand that the market is in the toilet and the credit crunch has elevated scruteny to a TSA level figurative molestation. There can be no secrets remaining between myself and my loan officer. Apparently, having a combined credit score of 795 and paying my mortage on time every billing cycle since my closing date almost twelve years ago has no bearing in obtaning a promissary note from my bank of 15 years for signing. I really want to bail on the whole project and go with a student loan instead but Chase already has 500 buck-a-roos of my cash, from a check I wrote at the tail end of 2011. What month is it again?

Our over-all financial situation is a total cluster-f**k. In addition to our bank account getting ransacked and our line of credit maxed out by a cyber-thief, we didn't get a check from Purdue (Josh's employer for over five years) for ten weeks. Purdue started paying Josh again shortly after threatening to cancel our health insurance unless we paid them almost $900. This was just in time to completely destroy the chance of having a simple and quickly processed tax refund in my favor. Not gonna happen now. Hopefully, the $20,000.00 in tuition paid will allow for some respite in that department.

Lafayette Paranormal Research Society is fantastic on all accounts aside from the fact our most promising talent is packing up and moving away on military assignment. We are currently seeking candidates to fill the void the left by the Barlow and Jacobs families. Our group is rooted in scientific theory and organized experiments designed to obtain measurable results. If your one wish is too sit in a dark room with candles burning around a Ouija board while chanting: our group is not for you. On the flip side, if you would like to work with a professional team, shoulder some of the workload, and learn how to handle equipment then shoot me a message. Let's get together and chat.

The good news is that the bullshit with our stolen cash and credit due to the cyber attack on our finances has been fully resolved. We received a certified letter in the mail announcing that the charges on our accounts were indeed fraudulent and they considered the matter closed. Well done on that one, Chase. Well done. One down and infinity to go. I can get through this with the support and friendship so many of you have showed me these many months. Again, I hope to show my appreciation to all who have offered to help. Am looking forward to spending Easter with my family. I can't wait for Jenn to bring her handsome beau home so I may greet him in Klingon and present him with gifts. We have some great stuff picked out so far. Bill and Connie will return from Florida soon and hopefully will be bringing Spring with them. Peace be with you. Thanks for reading.

Good Times (not the TV show from the '70's)

All of my weekends have been pretty interesting, if not fun, since I went back to school. For the first time since we've been married, Josh and I get to relax and go on adventures together, sometimes a mixture of both. This past weekend was a lot of fun and fairly random. Next weekend promises to be eventful, as well. I can't wait!

On Friday, Josh and I hosted a meeting for full-time L.P.R.S. members, during which my mind was officially blown. Members of our group found the most phenomenal and unique piece of video evidence I've seen in many years of combing through paranormal surveillance files. I am hoping we will have a clip of the footage ready to view within a few days. Our techs are taking great care to provide the obtained evidence in a respectable and professional manner so please bear with us, time-wise, as we prepare to reveal our evidence to the para-community. I hope to have an edited copy for company at ScareFest next weekend. It is sure not to disappoint.

Our faithful and energetic para-enthusiasts then contributed inspiring ideas concerning where the group is, can, and should be headed concerning our desired direction (after the initial shock of the video footage wore off, that is). We decided that "less is more" regarding the amount of talent to take to every location. Our guys surmised that more delegation was needed to allow the organization to operate on a competitive scale and have a presence in the field. We are learning so much through trial-and-error, practice, experience, and the expert guidance we receive from seasoned professionals on a regular basis. Bear with us once more as we become even better at what we do.

As the meeting came to a close, I changed into my version of "going out" clothes and hit the bars with my best friend. Erin and I go way back and rarely get to hang out together outside of her house and back yard because she is a mom. We hit a hipster bar first and almost called it a night after that. We decided to give it one more shot in a friendlier place and moved on to a more accommodating venue. We stayed out too late and drank a little too much, but we had a great time, as we usually do.

A little on the early side, Josh and I woke up for game day. Mom picked us up around 11 am and we headed to campus. The weather could not have possibly been nicer; the parking could not have been closer (and the parking sign read both of my parents' names correctly, so that was good). Dad was in the field but made great efforts to give us a "Boiler Up!" before kick-off, calling all of our cell phones until someone called him back. The offensive line looked organized and effective. The defense got brave and made some huge plays. We sat in our seats for the majority of the game. That hasn't happened in what seems like years, and we enjoyed the afternoon to its fullest. It was a shut-out, another anomaly Purdue fans haven't witnessed frequently or recently. What a fun game to watch.

Mom dropped us off after the game with tailgate leftovers and a new tee shirt for me featuring a throwback Purdue Pete silk-screened on breathable, high quality fabric, in a color I can live with. We notice the pink twinge of developing sunburns on each other's cheeks as we prepare for the day's next activity: a quick drive to Attica to check our camera traps for exotic, large cats. We stop by mom and dad's to say "hi" to everyone on the way and arrive at a bustling farm. Dad is refueling the big red monster with help from my cousin Dan. Big Bill is wearing a Purdue hat and an L.P.R.S. shirt and is happy to see me. I had to jump back in my truck and move it to make room for the semi Luther was lumbering into position. I waved to my second daddy, hollered a hello to my mom, used the pink bathroom, directed Josh to grab some Pepsi and we were off like a dirty shirt.

Of the bait we set, there was no sign. We arrived at the site where we placed our camera and the meat we'd left several days before was gone with no tracks leading to and fro that might indicate what creature ate the yummy goodness I'd left behind. The trap itself was filled with pictures of deer: does and adolescent off-spring mostly and a few button bucks.No big cat photos today, it seems so we do the next best thing. I take my husband road farming.

Road farming is an activity enjoyed by country kids and adults who have access to a vehicle, the desire to drive very slowly, and the need to stare at shit as it rolls slowly by. I love driving around the least traveled back roads, turning this way and that, and not always knowing where you will "end up." Josh showed his unbridled enthusiasm by promptly falling asleep. I woke him for things he likes to see and let him snooze the rest of the time (he can peacefully fall asleep is any moving vehicle). We had ice-cream at Wolf's and french-fries from Short-Stop. We arrived home to cats that were happy to see us and hadn't coughed up or crapped on anything. Nothing was shredded and scattered all over the TV room and our snake, Mittens, had shed again and was looking especially beautiful. I changed into pajama pants (not to be confused with pajama jeans) and settled in to my butt crater on my favorite piece of furniture and picked up my laptop.

Aunt Lucy and Uncle Bill gave me a fantastic leather loveseat that I sit on regularly. It's a comfy seat and less prone to random cat attacks than the dining room table so I usually do my homework here. With homework and classes on the brain I log into my student portal to, once again, check my grades for updates. I took my last final on Thursday and feel like I've been waiting for eons to know exactly how I did last term. Looks like I have a 103, two 100's, a 99, and a 97% in my five classes. This is the first time I've been a 4.0 GPA since my freshman year at Purdue over ten years ago and I am very pleased.

I now have a week off from classes to look forward to and prepare for next term. Josh and I are have a They Might Be Giants concert (with Jonathan Coultan) on Thursday night then we are headed straight to Lexington for ScareFest. This will be our first major Para-Conn and we are very much looking forward to it. Wish me luck and thanks so much for reading!