A Gentlemen's Game

Hello all from the Loft. Okay seriously, there has got to be an illegal grow operation around here somewhere. Once in a blue moon, it smells like someone is burning an invisible forest of pot somewhere close to where I roost. I was chatting with my Nanny earlier as she let my sweet dog/child Layla outside to come spend the night with me upstairs, when we both joked about standing outside for a few minutes to take a few deep breaths. The smell is so pungently strong that you could probably get high from just chilling on the roof up here for a while. But I have never cared to do that so I am currently not out on the roof, but inside cuddling with Layla.

This is going to be a Cara Code for the gentlemen tonight. I have been debating on writing a post about this for a while and I apologize in advanced for the vulgarity that may spawn from my mind whilst typing this out. I feel as though people can handle it.

CC Rule #3 Let's Not Talk About Sex, Baby

Okay so a while back a friend of mine convinced me to join a website for dating with her. Miss Pansy Pants couldn't go in alone so I reluctantly joined with her. Why not, I thought to myself as I entered all of my information from favorite types of movies to preferred body type. My conscious tried to rationalize with my inner self-loathing Sadi (Sadi is short for sadist. This chick is one cold hearted demon). "You might actually find someone cool on here," she would coax as Sadi just stuck her tongue out and denied any such thing as being possible.

To my surprise, I received quite a few messages. It definitely was a confidence booster. Some of the guys were extremely good looking and then others were just your average Joes. I have a thing for in between hawt and average. The ones who are so extremely blessed in the appearance department know it and are annoying and too narcissistic for me. As I have said before, there cannot be two queens in a relationship with me, and the crown already fits my head so...

Anyways, I like talking to strangers so after being hit up a few times, I started to respond. Huge mistake. The first guy I talked to was obviously very sexually frustrated and kept making bad jokes about him and his hand like he was in a Pink song or something. First off, ew. Do not actually talk about "beating off" or whatever it is called with someone you don't actually freaking know. Nor should you suggest that I am the one who could be your cure all to your sexual cravings. Ugh. I am getting grossed the fuck out just thinking about it now so I'm done here.

The first time you talk to a girl it is definitely not appropriate to bring up sex. Bringing up sex during the first encounter is about as cool as us verbally putting our first name with your last name out loud. When a boy and girl meet for the first time, the guy automatically tries to visualize the gal naked and the girl tests out the names to see if they sound good.Seriously, the next time you meet someone of the opposite sex who you are interested in, catch yourself on what you think of first. And a little light bulb will go off and say, "Damn, that Cara Lady was right!" It's okay to think that shit in your head, but let it come out of your mouth and it's all of a sudden weird.

I talked to another guy who was just your average Joe and he was actually pretty cool until he said, "So why don't we meet up, go out and get to know each other, have sex and then see if we like each other?" I am giving him the benefit of the doubt in hoping that he didn't mean doing this all in the same day, but just for the fact that he mentioned sex was a complete turn off. That's just so demeaning and crude. Is that the natural order of things, yes. Should you say it out loud, no. It freaks us girls out and puts our father's voices in our minds chanting, "they only want one thing." And everyone knows we hate for our parents to be right.

*needless to say, the OKCupid app is no longer on my phone*

If you want to actually get to sex, don't discuss it at first. Trust me, we are trying to guess how big your thing is by looking at your various other body parts (although there is no actual science there) as much as you are trying to figure out if our boobs are push up bra boobs or natural. Girls are probably think about sex more than guys do, but we don't say it out loud in front of the guy we are attempting to entrap for a while. It makes us look easy and sleazy. No man wants to wife that. Just like we don't want to husband someone verbalizes his desires to bend us over the chair at Longhorn's on the first date. Keep the pornos in your head for now. Good things come to boys who wait.

CC Rule #4: You can Have Whatever you Like

The one thing I absolutely cannot stand is when a guy says, "what's in it for me?" when I ask him to do something. SERIOUSLY?! This is not a freaking business deal where people are losing and gaining. I always test guys with this. Sadly, only maybe one has passed this test, although I cannot be sure which bf that was. When I ask you to rub my feet or grab me a Coke from the fridge, just do it for the simple fact that you like to see me happy. If I am happy, you can be certain that I will go out of my way to make you happy. Do not ask a girl what is in it for you when she asks you to do something. That indicates that anytime we want something small, you automatically expect sex. So one foot rub= orgasm now? That is in no way an equal equation. When you just do these nice things for us without breaking out the bartering bats, we take mental note and I promise we will give it back to you ten fold exactly how you are seeing it in those naughty daydreams of yours. Trust me, we will take you on a trip around Pound Town and back in the Fuck Truck if you don't ask. But once you ask... Just don't do it okay?

So, what have we learned here today? Keep your dick in your pants and your thoughts in your head on the first date and for a few that follow. We will most likely let you know when it is okay to be suggestive by our body language and if we start getting closer and more suggestive ourselves. Your plans to get in our pants will be completely foiled if you mention it too early. Do not ask what is in it for me over a small task of sitting through a chick flick. That's your job man, that's what you signed up for when you started dating a GIRL. You have to do girly shit and be up to our girly needs of being pampered. If you can handle being our masseuse for ten minutes after a long day at work, we can most certainly handle being the Anastasia Steel in your Fifty Shades like fantasies.

Unicorns are People, too.

Hello all from the Loft!

I am very happy to have a few days off from Old Navy. Seriously, I feel like I spend more money in there than I make sometimes. I hate working shipment because I can literally see my paycheck go straight out the window on the new merchandise that I want to buy.

Those of you who watch MTV know that there is a new show on called Girl Code. It is absolutely hilarious and bluntly true. Auntie Heather (aka Cassie's aunt who I have no relation to but claim because she is simply awesomeness in human form) always texts me about it and kind of gave me a little light bulb of an idea. I have decided to do a weekly "Girl Code" post from now on. By weekly, I mean probably more than once a week at times and then not at all for a while. We all know I can't keep up with a dedicated time sheet for topics and posts. Is this kind of copy catting from MTV, yes. Do I give two craps, no. Besides, I am putting my own little twist on it. It won't just be girl stuff, although it will be mostly that. WHOOOOOOOW GIRL POWER!!! Just kidding, girls are dumb. But seriously, it will be a combination for all to enjoy. I'll put things in it that just make sense to do/never ever solemnly swear never to do. I am going to call it Cara Code or CC for short. Maybe CCode? I will have to see what my "managers" Kimberly and Destiny think about it.

Today I am going to delve into the mysterious maze of work ethic. Seeing as I have only had two jobs, I am no expert on work etiquette, but I have picked up a thing or two here and there about how to conduct yourself as both a customer and an employee that may make life for the both of you a bit sweeter. Work is that awesome place where you get to meet a lot of interesting characters and get to tend to their even more "interesting" needs, so it is important to keep some things in mind whilst doing your thing on the job.

CC Rule #1: When in the Work Place, be Unisex

No I do not mean to spontaneously grow a penis or a vagina depending on which gender you are. I mean that would be cool for some if that was possible, I suppose. What I mean by be unisex is when approaching a customer/patient/guest/unicorn/ostrich, use terms that are good for both males and females. Seriously, I have called at least three women "sir" this week alone. I'll give myself some slack on one, she had a slight beard. The looks of confusion would instantly turn to eye daggers whenever these ladies realized I was actually speaking to them. I would try to cover myself by suddenly ducking behind a shelf and turning in the direction of the closest man I could find, but they and their female powers knew I was talking to them. The phrase "if looks could kill" seems to fit here perfectly. Being from the South, I automatically flourish my respect by calling people sir or ma'am. But when you call a sir a ma'am or a ma'am a sir, you might as well respectfully shove that respect up your own ass, respectfully. I have found that another Southern term seems to work better. I just brandish the word "y'all" about a lot. Whether I am speaking to five people, one, or as I typically do, no one, I just refer to them as y'all. Y'all have a fantastic weekend! Y'all finding everything okay? Y'all want to hurry the hell up so I can return to folding the toddlers' polo table so it can get destroyed in 2.5 seconds? Seriously, it is just way better to go unisex when approaching someone. If there is a person who has on something that a boy or girl could wear, just avoid the whole murder via death stare by using unisex pronouns. If you don't know what a pronoun is, I will gladly refer you to my high school English teacher Mrs. Norman so she can laugh inappropriately at your lack of smart.

CC Rule #2: Be Nice to People you want Help from

You would think that this is a no duh, but some people still seem to have trouble with this one. When someone at work approaches me with an attitude and a rudeness that would make Bon Qui Qui go all "talk to the hand" mode, I am likely to be less willing to help. You see, I don't get tipped at this job for my paycheck. I still get paid whether or not we have a pleasant encounter. So, if you come up to me all Bitchy Bitch Bailey don't expect much. That adorable little boy shirt that you are looking for in a size 8 but can't seem to find anywhere is most definitely in the back. But let me be very clear, that is where it will stay if you can't be nice. I'm too much of a nice goody good girl to do this too often, but admittedly, I've done it once. But if you approach with care and ask politely to have me find something for you, I will go all Sherlock Holmes to make sure you have that blessed shirt by the time you walk out. Also, there was this day a few weeks ago when this very kind lady stopped me in the middle of an aisle to ask me to point her in the right direction of a certain product. I gladly did and reciprocated her sweetheartedness. Out of nowhere this man approached and walked right up to us and made a parting of the Red Sea motion with his hands and said, "Um, excuuuuse me!" and proceeded to walk in the middle of us. Mind you, this aisle was more of a main walkway and we were off to the side of it. He had a whole whopping other 10 feet or so of walkway to maneuver around us. I made a point to take the tiniest step out of his way as possible so he had to turn sideways to awkwardly slither his way in between the lady and I. I am the queen of awkward, so if you are going to make it awkward for me, expect me to shoot back with an awkward AK47. What an ass.
Be nice to your customers too though, or don't go into customer service. I cannot stand to see a rude person in customer service. If you don't like people, go be a vet or astronaut. If you are like me, I am the first person to get all, "I am going to WRITE A LETTER!" on a ridiculously rude person. I have made complaints before and I have had a complaint made on me at a previous job (I feel as though the difference between sugar free and no sugar added is just a given, but maybe that's just me). Trust me, you go talk to a manager about one of their employees, and they are going to get a very stern talking to and hateful stares from their boss for the rest of the day.

In sum, be nice to your ma'ams and sirs and be sure you are calling the ma'ams ma'am and the sirs sirs. If you aren't sure if they have a p or a v, stick to the y and use y'all and you. Customers, be kind to the people you are asking for assistance from. Don't bite the hand that feeds you, or the one that could possibly snag that last pair of black skinny jeans for you from an unknown hiding place before someone else does. Employees be kind to your unicorns/guests/customers so you don't get the parental-ish talk and disappointed stare down from your boss. Besides, it is bad for your health to be unnaturally asshole-ish, so just be nice:)

My Missing Puzzle Piece

Hello all,

Since I am stuck here in Tally with me, myself and I, I have had a lot of alone/downtime. When I am not working or doing random things like kayaking or sailing with random boys or saving turtles, I find myself obsessed over a puzzle I have been working on. My love for puzzles dates back to the year 2005 when Florida got hit with all those hurricanes. My hometown was completely drenched in an endless soak. Practically everywhere was flooded, including my dirt road. You see, dirt typically results in mud after it has been wet so there was no way I could leave my house for like a week. I was stuck inside going batshit crazy from not having the option to leave. I suppose I could have swam, and I definitely considered it once or twice because I soon grew bored from not having electricity or any of those 1st world luxuries that I tend to take for granted. The only thing that kept me sane and from not murdering my family (we were all beginning to drive each other nuts) was a collection of jigsaw puzzles I found in a random closet at my house. I did about 5 that week. They were huge too with way too many pieces, but I noticed that I was really good at them. I like finding things and putting them together for some reason. Now if only I could apply this to practical things like matching myself up with someone who is actually good for me.

But I noticed a trend when I do my puzzles. I am currently doing this 1500 piece old timey town scene and it is ridiculous with all the different colors and patterns of stone. I will sit there for minutes on end without finding a single match, which leads to a frustrated huff and the throwing of my hands up in surrender. But then, like a needle in a haystack, I find just one piece that is a match to something I may or may not have been looking to find. It is such a triumphant feeling too. Okay, yes, I AM A NERD!!! But most of y'all already know that from either personal interaction with me or by reading this blog. The trend follows this one little insignificant piece. I'll spend so much time just finding one, but then I will find a whole slew of them. Match after match after match. Everything begins to fall into place with this one little piece of painted cardboard. The more I find, the prettier the view is in front of me as the picture reveals itself.

As I sat there finding piece after piece, I somehow had an epiphany. Life is sort of like a puzzle. Ever notice how everything goes straight to crap all at once? Like everything goes wrong from the first breath you take when you wake up and swallow the air wrong causing you to start choking, all the way through the afternoon when you lose your keys on campus and into the night when you burn your hand taking your bowl of Beefaroni out of the microwave. Those are the days where you just want to crawl back into bed and try again tomorrow. That's what I told my little Kinley this past weekend when she woke up already raising hell about her toe, her being cold and thirsty, and completely un-pleasable all at the same time. I said, "Whooooh child we are gonna put you back to bed and you can start over again tomorrow." She replied with an ugly pout and another protest against the fan.

We all go through a phase of bad luck Chuck where everything seems to go wrong. You are all in a funk and you feel like nothing is showing up right, in a timely manner, or not at all. But then suddenly, something happens that makes your life do a 360. It's like finding that one piece of the puzzle. You find something, do something, meet someone, say something, or whatever and all of a sudden everything starts falling into place again. The sky scene that was once a gaping black hole is now the brightest blue. The hardest part is just finding that one piece.

The whole thing I am trying to say is that life is seriously the biggest, most crazy puzzle to figure out. It takes a minute to find that one piece that will set unveiling the full picture, and you may have to go through a lot of pondering and trying to find it, but that minute is just a minute in comparison to what it will lead you to discover. Don't stop looking for that piece. After all, "Life is a maze, and love is a riddle." You'll never find what you need to complete your own puzzle without opening your mind and your heart. Don't stop looking for that diamond in the rough. It is out there, I promise. And then everything, when you least expect it, will suddenly make sense. The picture will be clear and you will understand why everything happened like it did.

*Here's to finding that piece.*

When Nature Calls, Make REZervations

Hello all,

Summer has officially begun here in Tallahassee and it has been absolutely beautiful here for the past week or so. Mother Nature has been especially kind to provide a slight breeze to make the accelerating heat more comfortable. The weather was basically calling me to come outside, so I did yesterday.

Well, I sort of got out in it a few days ago when I rescued a monstrous ancient looking turtle from what was sure to be certain death. The poor thing was trying vainly to get back to the nasty little retention pond that he called home sweet home. I say vainly because there was a chain link fence that separated him from his watery paradise. I was just pulling up in my apartment complex on my way home from work when I saw this amphibious cutie trying to claw his way through the mesh wiring. I couldn't stand to see him struggle. He kind of looked like I did trying to put on skinny jeans that were far too tight so I felt his pain. I stopped the car and assessed the situation. I mean, this was one big ass dinosaur looking turtle. I couldn't just leave him there so I decided to do what I am good at; I talked to him. Yep, literally had a conversation with him whilst trying to calm him down and sneak up on him at the same time. I kept waiting for someone to drive by and hear me talking to it. I had a vision in my head that this person would park quietly close by, call 911 and then two very large men (one possibly a woman who could be named Olga) would approach me with a large sedative and net. I mean, I did look pretty darn crazy. If I saw someone going full Steve Irwin on a turtle I would definitely think they had a screw or two loose. When I finally mustered up the courage to bend down and pick him up, I spied a raccoon mocking me behind the pale yellow cement wall of that separated us from the pond and wooded area. I tried to snap a picture of him, but he wasn't feeling up to it I suppose because he retreated back into the darkness. I have a feeling he continued to watch me. Needless to say, my apartment complex really is a freaking zoo. I eventually scooped up the at least 15 pound turtlesaur and hoisted him over the fence. He snapped into his shell but as soon as he hit the water, he popped out and swam for his life into the dirty water as if it were made of gold or something. When nature has a problem, I guess I am the chick for it.

My natural encounters did not stop with my new found amphibian friend. I woke up Monday morning and had a sudden itch to go kayaking. By the way, if you spell kayak backwards, it is still kayak. I know, you are mind blown. You're welcome. If you haven't yet caught on to how random I am by now, the fact that I woke up wanting to kayak should really put it into perspective for you now. Who just wakes up and thinks, "Hmm, it's a lovely day for some kayaking." This girl right here does.

Where does one go kayaking in Tallahassee? Well, FSU is so cool that they have their own lake. Not really their own. It is Lake Bradford, but we Seminole savages took it over some time ago and established The Rez. It is seriously the most beautiful place I have yet to come by in Tallahassee. For all my Tally cool cats, get over there before you graduate. Seriously, go and do something fun. Everything there is free for students, from rock climbing to kayaking to paddle boarding. And then for people who aren't students, the rates are like dirt cheap.

I approached the rental store to procure a kayak for myself. I thought about how awkward that would be to ask for just one kayak. Like if that doesn't spell out loner loser then I don't know what does. But whatever, I like doing random crap like kayaking by myself. I can't really picture Cassie kayaking either, she's probably allergic to the lake water or something, so by myself it was.

I walked up to the desk where I was met by a very sweet girl. I asked her if I could rent a kayak. She replied, "Just one?" Ugh, and I thought I had almost gotten away with it. I wanted to be like, "Bitch do you see Casper the friendly ghost here with me? No? Okay, then just one." Instead I smiled and said, "Yep, it's just me today." I am about as confrontational and hateful as a butterfly.

My vessel was waiting for me on the shore. Mind you, I haven't kayaked in about 6 years so I was a little lost around the slender plastic boat. It was turned backwards and I thought how fun it was going to be trying to get it to turn around. After awkwardly straddling the kayak, I got it turned around and I was off!

Seriously, it was the most relaxed and at ease I have felt in a very long time. The water and sun have always had that effect on me though. It's like all my worries and cares were lost in the choppy waters as I glided along the black surface. Ha, who am I kidding? I probably looked like a baby seal trying to swim for the first time the way I was smacking my paddle down into the water. At least for the first few minutes anyways, but then I started to get the hang of it. But for the first time in a long time, I wasn't thinking about anything. It was nice, to not be concerned with all the crap I am normally concerned or irritated with. I must have looked like an idiot with the goofy grin I had plastered to my face, but I was genuinely having fun all by myself.

I was determined to make it all the way around the lake that day. The wind was trying to kill that dream but I wouldn't let it. I was about half way around the lake when something out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. It was a big red and white sail to a tiny little sail boat that wasn't much bigger than my kayak. It was still off in the distance but I could tell that the boat was really flying with the wind that powered its sail. I just stared in awe as I daydreamed about how much fun that would be. I guess I stared a while longer than I meant to because the captain of this vessel finally waved to me. This captain was a boy. Freaking great I thought, he probably things I am some weirdo now, thinking I was staring at him. He shouted a pleasant hello. Hmm, not really someone who sounded disturbed after being stared at by some lunatic. I decided to respond with a cheerful greeting of my own. He leaned back as the wind was really pulling on his sail and said, "What a wonderful day to spend the first day of summer classes huh?" I chuckled and replied how very marvelous it was indeed. And that was the end of our little conversation.... At least for then.

After making my way a little bit further close to the shore, this mystery boy pulled up in his sailboat again. Hmm, maybe he was lost. No dummy it's a huge circular body of water that you can see clear across, one doesn't need directions to navigate this, I thought to myself. What ever did he want?

He got very close to my kayak and asked me, "What are you doing out here all by yourself?"

I'm lame, all my friends have gone away for the summer, my boyfriend isn't here because he doesn't exist, all came to mind. Instead I said, "Oh, all my roommates have left for the summer and I just needed some alone time."

This boy was in a safari hat sort of like the one Nigel Thornberry would wear and had on a blue button down fishing shirt. He seemed friendly enough. Although he didn't look exactly like a prince charming, he was still had a cute look about him. Why was he alone then?

Naturally I blurted out what I was thinking, "Why are you all by yourself today then?" He said it was something to do with everyone he knew had class and because he had some free time before his first class of the day which would be at five. I thought we were making small talk, which was nice because it is the most contact I have had with a boy since New Years, and suddenly he did something I couldn't have imagined in my wildest dream:

"Have you ever been sailing?" He asked.

I shook my head and gave him a no that sounded sadder than it should have. I had been wanting to sail though, I love boats. Of all kinds. Seriously, if I could live on one I would. I plan to someday for some time.

After he assessed my answer for a split second he said, "Would you like to join me?"

I am pretty sure my mouth actually did fall open, but in my mind my jaw hit the floor all cartoon like. Did a boy on a boat just ask me, a random stranger girl to go sailing with him?

Not wanting to sound like I was too eager to jump in his sailboat I said, "Well, I do have to be out of here by 4 because I work at six. I can't waltz into work smelling like nasty lake water." Playing hard to get: nailed it.

He didn't seemed phased by my attempts to say no, which was pleasant because that meant he actually wanted to hang out with me. He looked down at his outdoorsy looking watch and said, "Ah c'mon, it's not even three yet!" I took two seconds to deliberate something I had already decided on when he first asked.

"I'd love to join you." I said smiling. He told me he would meet me at the shore. And away he went sailing smoothly over the water, leaving me floundering like a fool in my desperate attempts to sort of keep up with him. I mean I think a sailboat against a kayak on a windy day is a clear winner, but I didn't want to keep him waiting, so I paddles my little arms off trying to meet him in ample time.

He actually walked to meet me and led me over to the sailboat. We struck up a conversation about something that must have had to do with our names because I remember saying mine. I don't remember much of it though, I was still in a daze that this was happening. He told me where to sit and how the biggest thing about sailing was to duck and dodge the big swinging metal pole that would suddenly swing across the boat when the air shifted. I gulped as I envisioned myself getting my two front teeth knocked out as this boy witnessed and had to drag me out of the water. It was bound to happen, I thought as he pushed us out into the lapping water.

His name was Max. Max had me help him do sailboaty type things, like push this rudder looking thing into the water as we got into deeper water. We chatted about school and friends and pretty much anything when the wind suddenly picked up hard and took us away. Oh my, we were really flying! I started giggling uncontrollably as I was suddenly filled with excitment. Like I said, I love boats, but I love them even more when they are going fast.

We continued to talk and dodge the murderous looking metal pole of possible death for about an hour. He even taught me how to "sail" by letting me control the rope. You have to hold it in close to your body to make you go fast, and then when the boat starts to tip, you let it out a little before it tips too far. I was so giddy that I kept laughing like a small child. He seemed to find it funny that I found it so awesome.

Needless to say, it was one of the best days I have had in a long long time. I love meeting strangers and making friends so it was nice. By the way, he asked for the digits, and got them. I figured anyone who has the balls to ask a stranger girl in a kayak to come sailing with him deserves them. He is free on Mondays until his class, and we are probably going again. Who knows, we shall see.

I mean, if that is the kind of luck I was going to have, The Rez may be my new hang out. I will be out there every damn day of the week if that is the kind of action in brings. By the end of the summer, I'll be a world class kayaker from spending all my time out there. And possibly a sailor. I have decided to take the sailing clinic and join FSU's most prestigious sailing club. More tales of mermaids and Atlantis to come!

I had the Best Days with You

Hello all again,

I just posted about my incredible mother, but I have someone else that I would like to thank via blog on this Mother's Day. I felt that she deserved her own post at the very least. She is what most people would call a grandmother, but I call her Nanny.

Nanny is my Daddy's mom. I am one of the luckiest grandchildren in the world because my Nanny lives right down the property line from me, so I got to grow up having the grandchild perks close at hand. For those of you who are confused as to what grandchild perks are they are the things you get from your grandparents that you often don't or can't get from your parents such as dismissal of punishment and restrictions, candy at night, staying up late watching Disney movies, shopping trips to get things your parents already said no to(such as my larger than life Lucky Dalmatian from the Disney store that cost over 100 dollars), homemade food of delicious proportions, kisses and that magic salve that made all boo boos better, etc.

My earliest memory with my Nanny is baking sweets with her. She let me participate at a very early age. Participation for me mainly included my love for cracking the egg and eating the mix. She makes the best brownies I have ever tasted! Actually, she makes the best of everything that I have ever tasted. We spent many hours in the kitchen to please my cooking delights. I was supposed to help her clean up after we were done but some how she never protested when I said I was worn out and needed to rest with my chocolate smudged face.

Nanny really did anything that I wanted to do. If I wanted to draw and color she would break out our enormous storage box of art supplies and draw with me. Her drawings of houses were my favorite. They were simple little houses, but they were so detailed in my eyes. She got it right down to the chimney with smoke to the upside down W shaped birds in the sky next to the clouds.

I had everything I could ever dream of from her. Nanny didn't go in a store without buying me something. Our store was the Disney store. It was my favorite place to go to in the mall. I had to go every time we went into town and we never left without a new stuffed animal. The most ridiculous thing my Nanny put up with was my uncontrollable obsession with The 101 Dalmatians. Anything related to the movie was something I had to have. There was a whole section in that stored dedicated especially to my crazy fixation, and I made a beeline to the overstuffed display with stuffed, black and white spotted dogs of all sizes as soon as I entered the store. Needless to say, I ended up with a bed that I couldn't even sleep on because of all the dalmatians on it. Or at least I didn't need a blanket, they kept me warm enough.

It didn't stop there though. Anytime Nanny loaded me up in the car to go somewhere, the dalmatians had to come with me. She came up with the idea of putting them in a laundry basket for safe traveling and went along with the water dish and blanket that I insisted on bringing. I was so over the top, but like a good Nanny, she went indulged my one true love.

Nanny is so much more than just a sweet Grandma type baking cookies and giving out kisses. She was involved with my life on a daily basis from infancy all the way up until now. She supported me in everything that I wanted to do or try. Take cheerleading for an example. In middle school I got the wild hair notion that I wanted to be a cheerleader. I had cheered for Normandy Pop Warner as a little girl but this was a whole different ball game so it was time to get serious. She signed me up for tumbling lessons and cheer clinics to work on the skills that I did not have. She drove me back and forth to practice every day and paid for everything too. Cheer tryouts came along and I decided to rock some corn rows in my hair for some idiotic reason. I hurt myself midcheer on my second cheer and barely made it through a very sloppy third cheer before running to the back and crying in her arms. Needless to say, I did not make the squad that year and didn't tryout again until I was going into high school. My efforts proved good enough and I made it that year. But I do not think that I would have without my Nanny sitting out in the yard with my friends and I for hours working on our motions, dance routine and stunts and telling me when I needed to do something again because it was not right yet. She pushed me hard but was always there to lean on when I need it after a long hard day of falling flat on my face trying to land a backhandspring. By the way, I had the worst tumbling ever. No matter how much I sucked, she kept paying for my lessons because she knew it is what I wanted to do.

Cheerleading was our thing. When I didn't make the squad in the 10th grade, she asked me what I wanted to do from there. I told her I didn't want to give it up, and that I wanted to join a non- school competitive squad. A very expensive venture to say the least. But she went all in on her own and paid for everything so that I could do what I wanted. We drove to Jacksonville three times a week for practice and took me to all my away competitions to places like Nashville and Atlanta. Those road trips are some of the best memories I have with my Nanny and I will never forget them.

Nanny was always on my side no matter what. She would tell me when I was wrong for sure, but she always took my side when another adult in the family had beef with me and often got that person to see reason. When I was 14 I met this guy who was much older than I. He was five years older than me and had already graduated high school. Unfortunately, I fell down a long hard black hole for this guy even though I knew it was not allowed. I couldn't help it though. I was young and stupid and I saw him and he was what I wanted. I kept him a secret for a while and then my dad found out about him. Of course, the only expected reaction was deathstar con 5 meltdown and he was so mad at me. The only person who would even talk to me for the rest of that day was my Nanny. She wanted to know everything about him and if I was sure about him. She was the only one who got through to my dad, she made him change his mind from wanting to send me away to a tall tower in the forest to, "I'll meet him but I am making no promises." I am sorry to say that he let me go through with that one. But, if I hadn't dated Bryant, I never would have learned the greatest lesson that I have come by so far in life.

There was a time in my life when I actually lived with my Nanny and Papa. My Dad was with someone who I didn't care for as a stepmom and our differences were so vast and hateful that I felt I could no longer live around her. My dad, who was at a loss of what to do for trying to make the both of us happy, let me go live down at my Nanny's house as I requested. It's not like I moved away to a different state, which is why I think he was okay with it. But she opened up her home to me and cooked and fed me, took me to practice, bought my school clothes, made my bed every morning, etc. Of course, this is stuff she already did when I was living with Daddy, but I was there every night. We would stay up late drinking our Diet Cokes (both of our favorite drink) and watch our shows The Bachelor, American Idol, Deal or No Deal, and Survivor. Papa had to drag both of our butts out of bed in the morning when it was time for us to wake up. They are lucky I was too big to sleep in their bed, which I did up until I was like 13. They were both shocked when I started sleeping in the other room on my own. I think they were relieved that they didn't have to kick me out.

When I think about my Nanny I think of that Taylor Swift song called The Best Day. If anyone could make a song about our life together, it would be this one. Starting out when I was very young, she was always there for me. We played all day long outside in the garden and by the pond. She took me everywhere that she went. She would come pick me up early from daycare or let me skip it that day altogether, and take me to the office where I would nap on their old leather couch with the uncomfortable buttons that left marks on my face. She videoed everything we did together, from singing "When you Wish Upon a Star" to making sand castles for my cousin Jason and I and laughing when he would smash them down and get so excited that he would shake. She always sang to me. We love the oldies, my favorite song was Love Potion Number Nine and we played it every time we drove anywhere. My favorite videos of us are the ones where she is talking to me and getting me to sing. They are so innocent and cute and make me remember the little girl that still lives in my heart. As I grew older and my problems became more than a lost toy, she was there for me. She still listens to me when I call her from college after a bad test grade or a crappy day at work. When I feel like there is nobody else, I know my Nanny is always there for me. She knows exactly what to say for what I need to hear.

My Nanny had my back from day one. She always made sure I was dressed to the nines in Ralph Lauren and Guess. Seriously, I was the cutest kid ever. Yeah, that's right, I went there. I always had a ponytail with a huge scrunchie or bow and smelled like her Vavoom hairspray because she took time from her getting ready in the morning to get me looking just as good as she did. We did everything together. I wouldn't have it any other way, and I don't think she would either. I grew up so lucky, my best friend lived mere feet away from me.

Hello Mother, Hello Father

Hello all,

I am in a sad state tonight because tomorrow is Mother's Day, and I won't be able to go home and celebrate with my Mom and Nanny. The Old Navy people need me to assist the husbands and fathers who run out tomorrow at the last second to buy something because they forgot. They can thank me when they go home to a happy wife and their balls still intact. If I was a mother, which I thank the Heavens that I am not at the moment (I like shopping for my little not-really-niece too much to afford a baby of my own for right now), I would literally not speak to my husband for a week if he forgot the fact that I birthed out his watermelon sized love child. Like I didn't forget to go into labor and have it so you can remember to buy me something to commemorate the body altering event.

Even though I cannot be there tomorrow with my Mom, Nanny or Grandma, they know how very much they mean to me. And since I can't get them anything until next weekend, I am dedicating this special post to all the hawt Momma's in my life. Y'all should be okay without the presents though, I'll be able to afford something better than what it would have been come this Friday after that paycheck comes in. Until then, this will have to do.

Let's start with my Mom: So many years ago on a Valentine's evening, my mother went into the hospital because I was not moving. Her due date was not until closer to March but she felt as though something wasn't right. After an examination (gosh that is such a daunting word), the doctor told her she needed to be admitted to have me now. Of course, she freaked out, but not because I may or may not have been in harm (even though I'm sure she was scared), and she said, "Um no, I have to work tonight, like my dog is at home." I honestly wish I could have seen his face at this response. That sounds exactly like something I would say to this day.

So Mom went in to have me and my unfortunate talent for arriving late started in the womb. She went in on the 14th to have me and I did not make my world debut until the 16th around 8 at night. My dad was there too, but he was never one for medical procedures. Mom tells me that he almost missed my birth because he got sick and retreated to go get some lunch. Mom's response: bring me back a cheeseburger.

After she had me, she said that we stayed up all night. See, my insomnia is all her fault. She started me off wrong letting me stay up late. No wonder I was uncontrollable for the next few years.

I have so many crazy, hilarious, awesome stories about Mom and I. I'll share a few of my favorites with y'all. When I think about my mom, these are the tales that come to mind.

I was about 11 years old when I met Cassie. After that, we were totally inseparable. She often stayed over at Mom's house with me on Mom's weekends. One weekend, she woke Cassie, Tyler, and myself at like 4 in the morning and was like, "HEY! LET'S GO TO UNIVERSAL!" We asked her when she wanted to leave. Right this instant was the only thing that even made sense to her. So we left about 30 minutes later to get there when the park would be opening. Seeing as it was 4 in the morning, there wasn't a whole lot to see in the car to keep us occupied. Mom had recently bought the new Outkast CD and popped it in to entertain us. She said, "Y'all have to hear this song that they wrote about me, it's called "Caroline"." The song was actually called Roses, but why correct her. We listened to that one song the whole entire way down there, all of us screaming the lyrics out with the windows rolled down on the highway. When I think of music and my Mom, this is what always comes to mind.

You know a mother really loves her child when she does something like my mom did in this next story. When the Disney Movie Anastasia came out in movie theaters, Mom took me to see it. Like usual, she bought my brother and I a treat from the snack bar. That day, I wanted Reese's Pieces. About halfway through the movie I decided to stick one of the little chocolate pieces up my nose. Why? I don't have a damn clue. Why does my niece like to pretend there are monsters in the house and then scream when I am "checking it out" to scare me? Why did my little sister call my brother Sissy for years? Why did my little cousin Jason like to beat me in the head with fistfuls of dirt when we were wee tots? Here's my logical answer: Kids are weird little shits.

So I placed the candy up my nose. I just let it sit there. I have to say, as I am writing this, I am just astonished and giggling at how embarrassing this is. I was so strange! Anyways, I decided I had had enough of the candy being up my nose. More than five minutes up the nose was unacceptable for me. I tried to pick it out but only pushed it farther back. I started to panic when it got so far back that I could no longer feel it with my finger. I got so scared that I began to cry and scream for my mom to get it out! She took me out of the theater with my brother who was mortified. She looked up my nose in the light of the lobby and couldn't see it. I was making quite a commotion and got the attention of some of the movie attendants who decided to call the fire department. How cool was I, getting a full fire squad over a piece of chocolate stuck up my nose? No, it was far from cool. I was horrified when I saw them all walking towards me in their gear and sticking things down my nose to try and get it. Nothing was working. I heard one say to another that they were going to have to take me to the hospital. I hated the doctor as a child and I immediately went into meltdown mode screaming for my mom to not let them take me. Being the awesome mom she is, she decided to try something else before she would let them take me. She had a sick idea. Mom grabbed a straw from the dispenser near by and stuck it up my nostril. Very slowly, she began to blow. It felt really weird and quite uncomfortable, but she made it clear that it was this or the doctor. After a few minutes of blowing, mom sucked all of the melted chocolate out of my nose. Thinking back on it now, that is obviously true love. You know that chocolate had boogers and dirt mixed in with it, HOW DISGUSTING!!!! But it was an act of sheer love that only a mother could perform for her child. Thanks Mommy!

As I grew older, my interests changed from placing inanimate objects up my nose to boys. I was 13 when I began to like this boy that my brother's friend Ben brought over to the house. Ben liked Cassie and I guess he wanted me to be entertained, so he brought Wesley. As soon as he stepped into my mom's van, I liked him. He smelled so good and had on a pink Abercrombie polo shirt. Pink on boys who smelled good was a teenage girl's dream! Well, I flirted with him and he was reciprocating the feeling so I started to become infatuated. Ben was having no luck with Cassie, so he went to play Halo with Tyler like they normally did. These little Halo parties lasted for days without one of them moving farther than the bathroom, so it was no surprise that Ben wanted to stay the night at our house. He always stayed over so it wasn't anything out of the usual. Since Ben was staying, Mom decided that she really didn't feel like driving Wesley all the way home and told him he could stay over too. We only had one rule; no boys allowed in my bedroom. Easy enough to follow. Around midnight, Cassie and I said goodnight and went back to my room to go to sleep like the good little angels we were. Ben, Wes and Tyler were all zombified in front of the television, not paying a lick of attention to us so there was no concern for any canoodlings that night. Mom went to bed with a good sense of everyone being where they should. That is, until about 3 in the morning when she bust through my locked bedroom door where Cassie and I lay sleeping and said, "I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE GOING TO DO!!" wagging her finger in my unadjusted eyes. Her concern for our virtue had woken her up from her slumber. She dragged us all out of bed and the boys away from the TV to take Ben and Wesley home. Of course, I was very upset that she didn't trust us and because I thought she was being ridiculous. We started to argue and yell at each other and I said I couldn't understand why she thought we were bad. Her solution to the problem was this, "You know what? When you are 18 you can do whatever you want. You can have a huge orgy party if you want. I'll make the invitations out to say "Come all and orgy!"." Cassie and I still laugh about this to this day.


The one thing about my Mom that really sticks out to me is that she is so over the top about everything. It is not necessarily a bad thing. For instance, when I got my arm pulled out of socket when I was a little girl, she bought me a wiener dog named Tiny as a get well present. Seriously, I didn't have to wear a cast or anything and ended up with a puppy! When I told her I wanted to have a Halloween party with my friends, she rented out the Ag Center in Macclenny for it. It is a bad thing though, when she wanted to stand near the sidelines at my high school football games and do my cheers with me. No kid makes it through without being embarrassed at some point. I thank you Mom, because it now takes a ton to embarrass me. But she is normally over the top in a good way. When I am having a bad day, she drops what she is doing to see that my frown turns upside down. Whenever I have a break up with a boy the retail therapy bill can be made into a belt, whenever I get a bad grade on an exam, she rolls out the red carpet to a movie and dinner. She always takes my side when someone has "wronged" me, no matter if it was really my fault or not. She always goes above and beyond to make sure her little princess is as happy as a circus clown.

Mom has given me a lot in life from herself. Aside from the fact that we look exactly alike, she has given me a loud, strong voice, a don't let anyone get you down attitude, a very caring and loving soul, an interest in books, and cry and get over it method to life problems. She babies me, caters to me when I don't deserve it, sticks up for me when I am wrong, and above all, she loves me. And I love her, so very very much.

Mom, if you have ever had any doubt how much I appreciate you and love you, I hope this finds a way to put all that to rest. You mean the world to me and mine is possible because of you. Thank you for everything!

Have it your Way... (Exclusions may Apply)

Hello all from my movie marathon,

I was listening to the radio the other evening on my way home from Cassie's graduation and a familiar, unmistakable voice came over the air. I was driving her Aunt Heather's car and was unsure of the radio station presets but this was definitely Delilah. I will never forget Sarah Davis talking about this famous radio host in class one day, complaining about the torture of listening to her for days as their bus was repaired. A select few drama students were on a special trip to perform for some sort of young theater thing, and their bus broke down leaving them all stranded. It was also Miss Davis who told me that ketchup took deodorant stains out of shirts. Hilariously enough, I believed her and asked how she came to know this trick. She's such a sweet girl, I never would have suspected her to test my gullibility. Funny, the things you remember about people you grew up with.

Anyhow, for those of you who do not know who Delilah is, she is a radio talk show host who often answers questions about love, life, and anything in between. Some chick called up on the radio and said the following, "So, I have this guy who won't ask me out but I know that he loves me. He says that he is afraid that I will cheat on him and he is so messed up from his last relationship so I sort of understand..."

Before she could even finish, Delilah interrupted and asked, "Have you ever read the book "He's Just Not that Into You"?"

"No, I haven't," the caller said. Geez, what planet does this girl live on?

"Well, honey I suggest you run, don't walk, out and get it right now and read it. I think this is just what you need. It basically tells you that if a guy is into you, he will make it his mission to be with you."

You would think that this girl would probably just say thank you for the advice and hang up the phone, considering that she was on a national radio station. Instead, this dummy gave us ladies a bad name and continued to let her stupid flag fly.

"But I know that he loves me because he gets really jealous when I talk to other guys and he treats me like gold and he just needs time."

Good ole Delilah proceeded to state the obvious, "If he treated you like gold, then he would be with you."

The female caller shamed all of us ladies that day, but did something we all do. She was making excuses for a man who didn't deserve it. Let's go over some of the things we make excuses for men over:

1) He didn't mean it- We say this when our man or whoever says or does something outlandishly hurtful. It is something that takes us aback and we can't find a legitimate reason for the sudden outburst so we just brush it off as an impulsive act that they didn't really mean to say/do.

2) He needs time- This is what we say when a man is not doing what we want him to do when we want him to do it. For instance, you have been seeing a guy on a regular basis and you are ready to become an exclusive couple, but he is not ready.

3) He needs space- This is what we say to our girlfriends when our boyfriends have called it quits or have issued a warrant for a "break." Y'all already know how I feel about breaks, we will get to that later though.

4) He is just a guy- Probably the worst excuse we can make for a man is this one. We use this one when a man is being a "man." This often includes being mean, uncaring, cold, forgetful, not spending time with us, doing the "bros before hoes" thing, etc.

If you are reading through these and your mouth has dropped to the floor in astonishment at how stupid these really sound, it's because they really are stupid. If you are wondering who actually gives these excuses, look in the mirror. We all do it at some point or another. I would now like to give my take on these excuses:

1) He didn't mean it- Well, the shitty truth about this one is that he did mean it. Here's a scenario for you from my personal repertoire: I was down at my pool one day with Cassie and my ex. He told me he needed to go check the mail at his house. Okay, fine, that takes like five seconds and he wouldn't be missing out on our pool day. Stop and get me a diet coke while you are at it. Well, after about 45 minutes, I started to wonder if he had gotten sucked into a black hole or pulled into the Hunger Games. I called, no answer. Cool. He showed up about 10 seconds later and I asked, "Did you get lost babe?" I even put a little giggle behind it to tease. Innocent enough, or at least I thought it was. Obviously, I had hit a nerve because he freaked out, said some very profane things and essentially told me to calm the f down about what he was doing and that he was really doing what he said he was doing. If I had been suspicious about him before (which I wasn't), I sure as hell was after that! He did this all while Cass was floating on my ripped netted pool float. She was there for it all. I don't typically get embarrassed about things. If you live through life with my mom yelling things like "mullet skirts" in Target every time she spotted a hi- lo skirt on a rack, your tendency to get embarrassed wanes. Tyler's friend Chris said, "it should be a right of passage in life to have to shop in Target with Caroline." It really should be! Just kidding Mom, I love you. But seriously!

But on this day, with my best friend staring at me with wide eyes of shock at my crummy efforts to scoop my jaw off the ground from that stunning word punch I just took, I was embarrassed. He didn't say anything to me after that, nor I to him, not until much later. Cassie and I talked and I was just like, "He didn't mean it." But he did mean it. When someone busts out and calls you an asshole, it's not an instantaneous thing. They have probably been thinking you were an asshole for quite sometime, just never saying it out loud. It's only a matter of time before the stream of cuss words you want to say to someone comes out between your teeth. We, women and men alike, let thoughts about others and anger at them boil up inside us until it turns into a monster of nightmarish proportions that forces its way from your brain and heart and out through our mouths. That is what he was thinking of me at that moment, that I was a spastic lunatic who needed to know his every whereabouts with GPS latitude and longitude coordinates. He didn't "mean" to say it out loud, but he meant what he said.

We all say things that we "don't mean" but that is no reason for it to be okay. Do not by any means, use this as an excuse for unacceptable behavior of someone.

2) He needs time- Ha, this is my favorite one. If a man says he needs time he really means that needs time to come up with a good enough reason not to date your "crazy" ass but one that is not harsh enough to decrease his chances of still sleeping with you. It is so disgustingly true. He wants you around when he wants you around, but he doesn't want you around. If a guy likes you, even a second of time is too long to be without you. So, when a guy tells you he needs time, you best hop on your Firebolt and fly away like you are after a golden snitch real quick like.


3)He needs his space- Unless you two are living together in a 1 square foot hole, he has space. I've often found that when a guy says this, there is another girl involved. He needs space to figure out who he wants to be with more. If he wants to be with you, the question doesn't even cross his mind. Now, we are all human here and we sometimes think about if the grass is greener on the other side. Most of the time, the guy is wanting a "break." Ugh, I cannot stand the idea of it. It's a pathetic excuse to go and have your fun with that person who you like the idea of, and still have your constant companion on the back burner when things go South. Or, maybe I should say North in a relationship. Obviously very dirty minded today. If some guy tells you he needs his space, you tell him this is not a damn Dixie Chicks song and that he can have his space or he can have you.

(Seriously though, don't smother your boyfriend. Smothering a fire puts the flame out. Give him his "space" if you know what I mean. Let him hang with his friends, don't bitch when he wants to play Call of Duty, and don't blow up his phone 35 hours a day. You know you don't like that crap either!).


4) He is just being a guy- Um, the last time I checked, the only thing that really separates a guy from a gal is an extra piece of skin surrounding some nerves and a little muscle hanging between their legs. That is no excuse for them to be uncaring, unloving, cold creatures. I mean Edward Cullen has more feelings and he doesn't technically have a heart. I tend to not associate things like "forgetting" to call for a few days or blowing you off to hang out with friends after you two have had these plans for days, with being a man. That is something a little boy would do. Men are still humans and should act and respond like humans. This whole bad ass guy attitude doesn't work for me. I'm not looking for a fluffy bunny, but I can't deal with Dr. Dick either.

We all make excuses for people at some point in time. We say our men are just being men and our men say we are just in a bad mood when we are having an epic meltdown. The point is, there is a difference in sticking up for the ones you love and making excuses for them. Never let a guy push you over and make you think that taking time off to be with someone else is okay, never accept cruel words but always accept sincere apologies, and do not chalk up a bad attitude to being a dude. But remember, if he is worth it, he is your man. Attempt to see things his way and defend him to the bitter end. There is a difference. It is a very fine line indeed. But do not let someone push over you and make you think that something you know is wrong is right. Don't let them have it their way if you know it is wrong. This is not Burger King.

Little Bunni Frou Frou

Hello all from my empty house,

That's right, I am officially alone. I am having serious empty nest syndrome today. Why you may ask? Well my best friend Cassie who I frequently mention in this blog graduated this weekend, and she left me this morning:( Nah, she didn't really leave me, but she did go back home so I am here by my lonesome anyways.

As I sit here in my bedroom and think about all the fun and festivities I was so lucky to be apart of this weekend, I can't help but let my mind wander down memory lane. This trip particular journey into the past takes me all the way back to the sixth grade when I was ugly as hell and awkward. Seriously, my yearbook pictures from the 3 years that I attended the ever so prestigious Baker County Middle School are so mind boggling awful. Sometimes when I am feeling especially not cute I say to myself, "At least you don't look like you did in that 7th grade yearbook picture with your hair plastered to your head and the ends of it sticking out everywhere." I had yet to discover a good flat iron and the curling "wand" wouldn't be invented for a few more years. I had no concept of concealer and I had terrible skin. Ugh those certainly were not my glory years as far as looks go.

They were some of the best days in my own personal history though. I had one of the greatest teachers of all times. His name was Mr. Griffis, and he is the reason Cassie and I are friends today. He had a peculiar way of teaching that made stuff really stick with you. I still have the poem that he made us learn memorized to this day. On rainy days, he would turn off the lights and read Edgar Allen Poe poems and short stories to us. He would get really into them too, using different voices and tones appropriate for the suspense and terror only Mr. Poe could deliver in such a spine tingling manner. To help us memorize spelling words or test material, he would ask a question and if we got it wrong he would set us up with a task that inflicted sheer embarrassment on the poor victim. Things that would make some sixth graders cry, like going to the teacher's room down the hall and professing your undying love for a random boy who you may or may not have known in front of their entire class or having to go outside and shout out your crush's name to anyone at P.E. and it didn't matter who you said, it was all equally mortifying.

Mr. Griffis also had a knack for picking on his students and making things really awkward amongst those who did not care for each other. That's how Cassie and I met. You see, Cassie and I didn't really care for each other and she was definitely not anyone who I would call friend. Then one day, Mr. G said something insulting to her and she ran into our other teacher's room via connecting bathroom in tears. Almost like picking people for the Hunger Games, Mr. G pointed to me and demanded I go over there and check on her. I remember protesting and thinking, " Freaking great. What in the world am I supposed to say to her?"

When I went over to Mrs. Giddens' room, she was sitting up against the pale yellow cinder block wall crying with her knees pulled up to her chest. I just sat down beside her and started talking. It's what I am good at so I figured I would start there. She didn't want anything to do with me at first, but after a few minutes I think she got the hint that I wasn't going away so she had no choice. I started talking to her about randomness, and right then and there on that nasty pee smelling carpet, we became the best of friends for over half of my lifetime.

The first time she came over to my house was when I figured out how shitty I was at giving directions to people. You see, I can follow other people's mediocre directions like Sacajawea with Lewis and Clark, but me giving them is like Siri's navigation system on crack and morphine at the same time.

I was trying to explain to her where exactly my house was located. I told her when she got on the dirt road she would pass a wired fence on the left and she would see a cow. I proceeded to tell her to go passed the cow and my house would be on the immediate left. Like seriously, a cow?! I could have just used a normal, non- moving landmark like the church on the right hand side of the road or street names, but instead I chose to use a living creature that may or may not have been in the yard at the time. How she made it to my house that day is a sheer miracle.

Over the years we did everything together. We dated boys who were friends like we were, cheered together, had the same classes, and practically lived together. We were pretty much inseparable from middle school on. She has been with me through all of my ups and downs and I for her's. We have been through some crazy crap together, such as this:

We were both about to be in our first year in high school. It was summer time and I had just started seeing this boy, and Cassie was interested in his friend. I asked my mother if I could have some guy "friends" over that night. Mom had just started taking some meds after she had an episode with seizures that had a side affect of heavy drowsiness. She said she didn't care as long as we behaved and kept quiet. I told her we would be outside swimming and would keep the noise down. She flopped down on the couch and passed out hard.

Being the players we were, we had two sets of guys come over that night. Just kidding, we were good girls who never really did anything bad. It sounds way worse than it really is, the first slew of them were just friends of ours. The boy who was driving was named Justin and he came into my nice little suburban housing division showing off his brand new sound system... It was 9 at night. After my rotten little brother and his friend scared these boys off, my new beau, Cassie's soon to be boyfriend, and a few of their other friends showed up for our little after sunset dip in the pool. My pool had a pink pool light and it was screened in, so it was perfect for nighttime swims.

We had been sitting in the pool for about an hour and a half all talking and playing with a volleyball when there was a knock at the door and the doorbell rang throughout the calm night air. Who on Earth would be coming over this late? I went to answer it and to my sheer horror, it was a female police officer. As I stood their dripping wet with chlorine pool water, she thrust a notice in my hand. My innocence must have given me away because I hadn't a clue what it was for. She explained to me that there was a noise complaint and we had broken a sound ordinance. I didn't understand, we weren't being loud. My mind skeptically wandered to my asshole next door neighbor who didn't really care for our wiener dogs. It was probably him.

About the time I went to close the door, I turned to find my mom rising from the couch in a disgruntled, sleepy haze. Something must have registered in her head because a look of concern crossed her face as she approached to ask the police officer if everything was okay. The officer informed her that we were being too loud and she was being fined 80 bucks to compensate for the disruption of peace. I've never seen someone get so angry so quick. Her face went from concerned to incredible Hulk angry. She demanded an explanation from me and I tried to give her one. She didn't care to stick around and listen. Mom marched outside and started yelling and cussing us all. If there was a disturbance of a sound ordinance before, there was definitely one now as she demanded all of us get out of the pool and the boys leave at once. Poor Ryan (Cassie's soon to be bf) tried to reason with my mom and said, "Ma'am let me explain. We weren't doing anything it must have been someone else driving through the neighborhood. My name is Ry.." My mom didn't let him finish, she cut him off with a, " I don't give a flying fuck who you all are, I want you out of my house right now!" We all scrambled for our towels and dashed out of the pool. I was so mortified, I thought this boy would probably never talk to me again. Too bad he did, he would one day tell me I was too fat for him.

Cassie and I ran back into my bedroom, seeking safe haven from my mother's fury. We went to bed hoping to not be in too much trouble the next morning. We awoke to something totally unexpected, my mom knocking on my door saying, "sweet peas!" in a sing song voice. What the hell?! Why was she being nice? She burst open the door and said, "Who wants to go shopping and have a girls' day?!" Cassie and I looked at each other in disbelief! Was this some sort of trick question. Without skipping a beat, my mom said, "Y'all I had the craziest dream last night. I dreamed that there was loud music and a cop came to the door and got us in trouble for it. Crazy right?" Holy cow, was this for real? Cassie and I could barely keep our faces straight. Had we really just gotten away with this?! We decided what she didn't know wouldn't kill her, and we went along with the whole dream ploy.

We were just about to get up for our shopping date with mom when Tyler walked into the room with a, "I am about to ruin your whole life" look on his face. He looked at mom and said, "That wasn't a dream, a cop really did come last night because their little boyfriends were playing loud music."

Needless to say, we did not go shopping that day.

Cassie always liked to try to get me to do things that I was no good at. Take pageants for example. I did not have any interest in pageants until she forced me to be in one. I had no idea how to do a pageant or what it took to win a big fake crown, but I did it because she was in it and we did everything together. I bought a salmon pink dress dusted in red and gold sparkles and these really spiky gold heels for formal wear. I had been practicing my walk in them all week with Cassie coaching me like a drill sergeant. By the time the pageant came around, I was confident I would strut across that stage like a natural born Miss USA. Oh, I could not have been any wronger. As soon as I stepped out on that stage with my big fake smile, I stepped on my dress and one of the spiky heels of death ripped through the pink fabric. It was stuck! Instead of politely bending down and undoing the shoe from the dress, I proceeded to limp across stage. My gate was completely awkward because the stuck shoe gave me a limited stride. There were murmurs from the crowd and I could hear Cassie's dad wonder aloud if I had in fact broken my foot. I was completely humiliated. As a result, I did not take home a crown and that would be the last pageant I would ever do.

Cassie and I have done it all together. The good, the bad, the extremely ugly, we have been through it all. Honestly, I wouldn't have ever made it through the bad and extremely ugly without her as my best friend. I have so many more stories about our glory days, adventures and misadventures alike. But they all have one thing in common, the two of us. I am not sure what I would do without her, so as I sit here trying to figure out what to do, I am at a loss. Ha, that is a wee bit dramatic, but then, I have always had a flair for the dramatics.

I could not be prouder of my best friend and all that she has accomplished. I would not be where I am without her. Seriously, I would not be at FSU if it hadn't been she who convinced me to apply to my team rival's school. I had no interest in ever attending school here, and if it wasn't for her, I would probably be down at UWF right now. Like I said, she's always getting me into stuff and I am always getting her into trouble.

We are a dynamic duo of massive proportions. Don't get in our way unless you plan on losing. She has my back and I would hurt a lot of people for her. I love you my bunni, you are so awesome!

Maneater

Hello all,

So school is practically finally over for me this semester. Although it was a cake walk and I only had to go two days a week, I am thrilled to be done with this whole school year, really. I can now dedicate myself to some special projects that I have coming up and that I have already been previously working on. I am excited to get back to them and the things I love doing, such as blogging. I miss being able to post more than one post per day. This whole 1 or twice a week thing doesn't really cut it for me. Luckily, I have not had much going on to blog about. And you know what the saying is, "No news is good news." I really have nothing to complain about in my life right now. In fact, I feel as though everything is falling into place. Even things that have been a long time coming.

Do you ever wonder about the workings of the world? I do all the time. Why do things happen the way that they do? Sometimes things seem to happen for no good reason at all. Losing a friend too soon, missing a final exam, getting into a fender bender... what is the purpose of it all? Sometimes I don't quite understand, but I have come to realize the answers to these "why me" situations often come later than sooner. I am not a patient girl so it is hard for me to accept this. But I must say, when we do get these answers, they are often sweeter than honey.

Although I believe in God, I throw out the word Karma a lot in these blogs. For those of you who live in a hole in the ground, Karma's mantra is basically this, "What goes around, comes around." Now, I don't really know how to say I believe in Karma without saying that I believe in it. Maybe there is some form of this in Christianity, I'm not sure. It could just be that God is in fact a just God and people get what they deserve. For now, to make it easy, I am just going to call it Karma. People who do wrong in the world typically get it back tenfold. Let me use a current example to paint a pretty picture for all of you.

Everyone remembers my ex boyfriend right? The one who didn't want to be with me anymore because I didn't look the way he wanted me to? Of course you do, it was the story that made this blog. Well, just this morning it was brought to my attention that he will soon be wearing the proud daddy t-shirt. Since it has already been announced publicly, I feel it's not wrong to talk about it on here. He has gotten someone pregnant. While I wish no ill will upon the mother and unborn child (of course, I don't wish badly for my ex either, I am not that kind of person) I kind of have to say, it is interesting for me. He broke up with me because he thought I was too fat, but he is now in a situation where the person who he is with will inevitably blow up like a blimp. He didn't want to be with someone who was fat, but he ended up with someone who will be anyways. Unless she is one of the lucky few who doesn't gain weight like this girl I knew in high school. She was a freaking freak of nature and one lucky duck. Good luck my dear, you will most likely be taking care of two children instead of one if I know him. Maybe for the sake of the child he will grow up and become a real boy and stop playing around while everyone takes care of him by pulling on his strings to do things for him. This isn't a Disney movie though, so I doubt it.

So, again, while I hope nothing but the best for them, I can't help but sit back and smirk. You see, I didn't have to do a darn thing to get back at him. The world and it's mysterious ways took care of it for me. I didn't have to go slash his tires (which did happen, but unfortunately I can't put my signature on that piece of revenge), I didn't try to turn every girl against him with social networking backlash, I didn't careen a vehicle into his place of employment. I didn't have to lift one damn finger for him to get what he deserved. I just sat back, like I was watching my favorite movie and enjoyed all that was unfolding before me. Now, I am no sadist, I do have feelings and I sympathize with others on a whole different level than most people do these days. But it is, in a way, nice to watch those who did so much wrong to you have everything go straight to shit. There is something sickly rewarding about it all.

That's the thing about Karma though. It always hits you unexpectedly, both in time and in how. Karma is a sly little bitch indeed, she sneaks up on you and there is nothing you can do about it. You would think it would be the same kind of wrong done to you that is given in return, but no, somehow what a person gets is so much worse. For instance, he broke up with me for that but now he is stuck with someone who will be the same way whether he likes it or not. Unless he is just as big of a piece of shit as I think he is, he is stuck with exactly what he didn't want.

Karma is greedy though. She doesn't like other people doing her dirty work. If you have someone who you fantasize about getting back at by doing something drastic like straight out of a Carrie Underwood ballad, think carefully before doing so. Karma works both ways, just because someone did you wrong means not that she will forgive you for doing something in retaliation.Let her handle her work, she is a professional after all!

What do you do when someone has screwed you over? Surely they can't just get away with what they have done? But is it your place to ensure that they do in fact get what is coming to them? Can I really expect you to do nothing at all? Yes, I can and I do. I find it is best to just lay back, wait, and watch. It is so much less stressful when you let the world deal with someone and when you see it all happening, the victory you feel is only that much sweeter knowing you didn't even have to utter a word or move an inch to have made it so. Before you go and bad mouth someone on Facebook or tweet ugly things, get personal and try to destroy someone's life, reconsider. There is something out there far bigger than you that will take care of the people who need a good kick in the ass. The beauty of it all is that they still get what is coming to them, all the horrors and trouble you have dreamed of bringing to their front door still becomes them without you doing anything to get it back in return as well. Don't make yourself the bad guy in a situation when it is totally unnecessary. Envision it if you must, let's be honest, we all drool over getting back at someone, maybe say a few nondescript things about them on the internet, gossip and shit talk about them with your friends, but don't become someone who is on Karma's black list. She will come hunt you down singing, "Whooaa here she comes, watch out boy she'll chew you up," swinging her big ole bad day baseball bat in your life's direction.