Why do I put up with it?

Casey is up first today, and predictably, her first priority is ensuring that I am fed. She’s very excited, she is saying something about Chicken in gravy.  Chicken, aahhh. Nothing is better than chicken, unless it’s KFC. Nothing is better than KFC. Oh goodness, I’m drooling on Dad’s keyboard, He won’t like that.

Right, as Mom would say… FOCUS. I told Casey (she’s my sister in case you’re wondering) I don’t like gravy any more. I’m tired of it.  I want jelly. Did she listen? No. Humans are really not that smart. Oh well, we all have to live with them, right? We can’t help who we love.

If she had known that I don’t like gravy anymore, she would have moved heaven and earth to accommodate me.  I’m just worshipped here… well, that’s to be expected, isn’t it? So I guess I can forgive her ignorance, not everyone can be as smart and awesome as me.

I take a few reluctant licks of the gravy. Oh well, Mom will wake up soon and give me some crispy divine food, I can wait. Casey switches her computer on and as I could have guessed, she needs me with her. She picks me up and holds me while she’s watching some silly show. I think it’s called Hanna Mon-something or other. I don’t know why I put up with it, but she really seems to need me, so I kind of feel sorry for her. Until she gets it in her tiny brain that I should look pretty.

I am already pretty, in a really masculine awesome kind of way, but she still thinks my looks can improve with a hideous pink scarf. It clashes with my eyes! Once again, instead of just scratching her and teaching her an overdue lesson in respect, I put up with it. Eventually I can’t stand it anymore and escape her girly clutches.

Instead of going to Mom for protection or just going outside, I sit on the coffee table and start washing my face, and before I know it, Casey has me back in her make-over clutches. The things we do for our loved ones. Oh well, I guess I had better log off before they come back.  They’ve gone out again with a bag full of food and drinks, no chicken, so I’m guessing it’s off the menu today. I’m tired anyway, so I think I’m going to have a quick nap. My humans seem to find it comforting when I’m home sleeping.

Signed: Kenshin

 

 

Kenshin the Ultimate Hunter

I did it again. I’m so fast and so amazing; it’s unbelievable how efficient I am at this hunting thing. The lizard was fast, but could not escape my excellent hunting skills; before he knew what was happening, I had him in my mouth. My long razor-sharp canines sliced into his body like a butter knife… mom said it slightly differently, yes, like a hot knife through butter.

The lizard threw his tail off, but I’m not fooled so easily, no sirree. I was born for the hunt. I felt him wriggling in my mouth as I transported my victim to my favourite hunting play spot. Mom and Dad usually go into it once a day and water streams out of the shiny thing on top.  I think they call it a shower. I shudder to think of all that water cascading off them. I warn them every day that they should stay out of that box, but they simply won’t listen. I don’t understand it… but I digress.

Lizard. That’s where I was, the lizard wriggling in my unbelievably strong mouth. I released him (her?) in the box (aka shower) and allowed the scaly little thing to think he could escape. I find it hilarious how they think they can actually escape me. I see the hope in their eyes and dashing that hope is always priceless.

I got bored about five minutes later, sometimes these hunting plays turn so predictable.  It’s the bane of my existence. Cats as efficient as I rarely find a true challenge. Oh well, I didn’t catch the lizard for myself you know, I don’t eat yuck stuff like that, Mom gives me real food.  It comes in a shiny packet and it is divinely crunchy.

Oh Mom.  I love her so much, she always smells so nice and she loves stroking my fur. I love it when I can just lie on her lap.  She always moves the laptop out of the way so I get to stretch out. So, the lizard was a gift for her.

I couldn’t wait to show her, so went to the computer room to call her. I had to meow at least five times and walk up and down between the shower and the computer room before she got the drift.  I’ll never understand how humans can be smart enough to invent the internet and still struggle to understand the most basic form of communication. Mom’s not very smart, but I still love her, I don’t judge you know.

When she sees the lizard, she’s not overly excited about it, but she was immensely proud of me (as she should be) and deeply grateful. She picked me up and cuddled me, stroked my ears (the way I like it) and said I am so smart (I told you she’s not very bright) and such a good cat. Feeling happy that I’ve made her happy, I go to Dad for some efficient grooming and leave mom to enjoy her gift.

After the grooming, I heard Mom was in the kitchen, so I followed her to see if she was still enjoying her lizard, but you will never guess what I saw!

She was getting rid of the lizard! Yes, unbelievable! She told me how wonderful it was and then she just throws it away! I was speechless and could only stare at her with all the shock I felt in my heart. At least she had the decency to look guilty. Caught red handed as it were. Oh goodness, Mom’s just woken up, I’d better go and meow for food or something, before she figures out I’ve stolen her WordPress password. Not that she will, like I said, she’s not that smart.

Signed: Kenshin

 

 

The Katalina Blog Challenge #5: Sophisticate Me

I have no idea where to start with this list, or if I’ll even get 25 points that will make me feel sophisticated and successful, so I might need to grab at a few “happiness” straws,  but here goes:

1. New shoes – because nothing makes you feel better dressed than a new pair of smashing shoes. And a walk in shoe closet…. hmmmm
2. Black lace. (I don’t know why, but lace is so awesome)
3. Cocktail dresses that flow softly with great shoes
4. Perfectly pedicured feet, soft-skinned heels and a perfect nail varnish; because ugly feet in new shoes simply won’t do.
5. Sharing fresh Sushi with my husband and eating it out of real Japanese plates.
6. A nice fireplace with a roaring fire
7. Having my own personal library, with floor to ceiling shelves
8. Owning antique swords and knowing its history (there’s something deeply moving to connect physically to the past)
9. The day after having gone for a wax; the tenderness is gone and your skin is unbelievably smooth.
10. Having my hair done; because no matter how many times I try, I simply can’t get it right.
11. Sharing good wine with great friends; swopping silly stories.  Having the time to do this does not come often.
12. Hardcover books with glossy covers. There’s just something about the sturdiness and beauty of it.  Top that off with a great story inside and it’s the whole package
13. Soft clothes and hard towels. I like the crispness of a clean towel; I feel soft fluffy towels just doesn’t dry the same. Clothes should be soft and should flow easily.
14. A dish washer.  It uses high temperatures and really kills germs and you have the added benefit of it saving on water, and not having to put your hands into that horrific green stuff *cough – dishwashing liquid- cough* that eats women’s skin.
15. The perfect fit coat or jacket.  If it is tailored perfectly, it really enhances any figure. It makes me feel like a million bucks to wear a tailored jacket.
16. Crystals and semi precious stones. The incredible delicacy of some and the wild beauty of others grabs my imagination like few other things.  If I could be surrounded by such beauty all the time…
17. Chinese bamboo in clear straight vases.  The beautiful green of these plants are just mesmerizing.
18. Issey Miyake perfume.  Because I can’t smell it but everyone else comments on it.  Few things make me feel more beautiful.
19. Red Heliconia flowers.  They are so delicate and so sturdy at the same time. The clean lines are captivating.
20. When people look right into my eyes; it signifies trust and faith.  It makes me want to live up to that.
21. A sphynx cat, because they are simply gorgeous. I like taking care of animals or people that really need me.  It makes me feel important.
22. Red lipstick.
23. People trying to keep me safe. I’m more than capable of doing it myself and everyone knows this, but when someone is concerned for my safety it makes me feel more like a girl.
24. My fountain pen.  It just feels so much more real than the keys of a computer.
25. My Book Of Shadows. Because I made it from scratch and hand-painted almost everything in there, and wrote everything in by hand. Because the heritage in that book will live on forever.

Apparently I have more facets than a brilliant cut diamond; so I might just be a diamond in the rough.

 

How to Survive the Coming Apocalypse

According to some psychics, the world is coming to an end soon. With the abundance of natural disasters we are experiencing all over the earth, people are becoming more convinced by the day. So I decided we should all be prepared. After all, what’s the harm in being prepared for the worst? Here is an easy step by step guide on how to prepare for the end of the world and how to stay alive after it strikes:

1. Start a vegetable garden. Plant veggies that need little sun or maintenance (when the death cloud appears, we’ll have no sun) Potatoes in a tyre is a good option. Be sure to tell no one what you are doing or why. After all, you can’t feed everyone or you won’t survive for long.

 2. Start stocking up on bottled water. Buy the largest canisters possible and sneak them into your house after dark. Be sure to take note of when the neighbour’s lights go off. You want to be able to take the occasional bath, not keep the entire population from dehydration.

3. Stock up on a great selection of guns and ammo. If you can’t get a gun licence, don’t fret, there are lots of illegal guns to choose from. (You’ll need this to defend your garden and water supply)

 4. If you don’t already know how to shoot, go for lessons. If you have to quit your job and go for security training to become an armed response officer, so be it. You won’t be that for long, and if you are on duty when it happens, you have a free extra bullet proof vest and gun. Can’t hurt, right?

5. Get a variety of camo’s. You can get this from any decent camping store. Make sure you have different sets for different scenarios. Snow camo’s, forest camo’s, desert camo’s and night camo’s. After all, the world is going to change and we simply don’t know what to expect. We need to be prepared to defend our stash against any eventuality. Don’t forget the bullet proof vest.

6. Get night vision goggles, binoculars and some decent knives. Think Bowie knife, swiss army etc. You never know what you will have space for on your person or what you will need. Killing a looter with a swiss army knife is definitely possible. All you need to do is be determined to defend what is yours. Just don’t forget the other guy is starving, he’s ready to do anything to steal your food.

7. Get a back up location. Your house will not hold up against starving looters. Think of higher ground (tsunamis you know). This will give you a great view of people approaching you. It’s all about location. Location, location, location. Never forget it.

8. Have a large van always at the ready. You will need several canisters of petrol stashed in the back. Those ones with its own tap are great because you don’t have to move it around. That can only slow you down.

9. Stock your van with essentials. Canned food items that will hold for several years. Hide this under seats. Keep a tent (you never know if you might need this later) and sleeping bag. Have an extra set of clothes for every possible weather condition in the van. Hide the van under sheeting until d-day and take it for a drive once a week after dark – this will ensure the battery does not run down. You need a reliable vehicle for the apocalypse. Make sure the tank remains full. (fill it up whenever you have to)

10. Stock up on medication for every eventuality. Fake a terrible cold if you have to and get some antibiotics. Don’t drink it, just stock up. Visit 5 different doctors at a time for prescription medication. A few things that are essential:

a. Pain medication (as strong as you can get hold of)

b. Antibiotics

c. Bandages

d. Antibacterial salves

e. Topical anesthetics

f. Plasters

g. Antihistamines

h. Waterless hand cleaner

i. Whatever else you can get your hands on, because you never know when you need to crush some sleeping tablets into a cup of coffee to take a prisoner.

11. Things are going to get lonely and quiet on that mountain. Get some batteries, cd players and compilation cd’s. Get earphones so as not to draw unwanted attention and be sure to keep the music really soft, with an earphone in one ear only. It simply won’t do if you can’t hear an enemy approach.

12. Don’t get sucked in by charm or good looks. It’s every man/woman for him/herself now.

13. If you do happen to have people with you (your children, spouse or parents – neighbours should have been shot on sight, so no tag alongs) be sure to have a professional relationship. It’s the end of the world, you do not have time for mushy feelings. That will get you killed. Your eight year old is big enough to learn how to defend your reserves. Make sure every person in your party has a gun and know how to use it. This is your army now. If there is someone who can’t… well, you don’t need anyone dragging the party down. You’re only as strong as your weakest link.

Now that you know this, you should be better prepared for any eventuality. Remember, no more Mr. Nice Guy. It’s kill or be killed now. By the way, I do NOT have a veggie garden, I do NOT have a water stash and I certainly have no weapons or medication. I live in the North Pole with Santa.

 

Love at first sight

It was love at first sight.  No other word can possibly encapsulate that moment in time. It was a beautiful sunny day, with the usual gale force winds of the Western Cape and I was headed out to lunch. Walking through the entrance of a large supermarket in our local mall, I absently noted the gardening section on display.  Hundreds of seeds, gardening tools and garden gnomes were available at bargain prices. My eyes met his across this chaos and locked on. I stopped dead in my tracks, absolutely mesmerized at his sheer beauty and earthy feel. I had to have him.

I walked straight up to him, picked him up in my arms and cradled him like a baby. I paid and walked out of the shop without ever putting him down. I phoned my husband to open the boot of the car for me. I carefully wrapped him up and put him in the boot.  Waldo thought I was nuts, but love can’t be explained, so I didn’t even try.

I named him Ujo, for the samurai in “The Last Samurai”. Ujo has held a place of honour in our house ever since. He stands guard in our living room. I would not take the risk of putting him in a garden.  When we move house, Ujo does not get packed away.  He gets cradled in someone’s arms for the trip to his new home.

That day, I made the bargain of a lifetime.  I bought true love for R100.00. It’s true what they say about love. It makes you think of nothing else… well, I left the shop that day without buying lunch.

 

Finding and Keeping: Faith

I had been feeling ill for a few days. I had an extreme headache, a stiff and painful neck, weakness of limbs, nausea and light sensitivity. Due to the combination of these symptoms, I was certain it was meningitis. I collapsed at work on May 25 2009 and contacted Waldo to take me to the doctor. The doctor was quite convinced as well, until the blood tests came back negative.

She booked me off for a total of 5 days, unsure of a diagnosis. The following week I went back to work, even worse than I was before. I couldn’t stay awake, I was stuttering so badly that I simply could not talk. I was jerking and shaking, I was walking into objects that I could see was there. I was utterly useless as I was completely unable to concentrate.

I phoned the doctor again and went back to see her. After contacting an Internist, she came back with a diagnosis. I had Viral Encephalitis. Completely uninformed regarding the true risks of the illness, I left her office with another sick note for 5 days. By this time, I was so weak and sleepy that I was unable to eat. It was simply too exhausting. Many of my memories from that time are non-existent, but I recall waking and feeling grubby. I dragged myself to the shower and started washing my hair. I simply could not stay upright to complete the job, so I closed the tap and collapsed on the bed, just dragging a towel over my wet body. My husband found me like that.

The fear that my family lived in those weeks is too devastating to contemplate, seeing my little girl trying to be brave will certainly never be forgotten.

The next week I was still no better and phoned the doctor, requesting a referral to a specialist. I went to see the Internist who first made the diagnosis (telephonically). He gave me one look and said I had to go to hospital. He called in a neurologist to consult on the case. After several tests and brain scans, the news was great.

I was on the mend, but I had developed a neurological disorder. This disorder, Opsoclonus Myoclonus, is, according to the little knowledge we have regarding this condition, an auto immune response which gets triggered in certain situations by some unknown reaction. I had little or no brain damage as my higher brain functions seemed to have been shut down by this disorder.

So there I was, plain old me, having been saved from potential severe brain damage by a disorder that affects one in ten million people. Wow. Is someone watching out for me or what? Living with the condition is often a nuisance, and can be embarrassing during a bad flare up, but it is such a small price to have paid. It could have been a thousand times worse. I see this not as a problem, but as a reminder that no matter what we believe, we simply cannot deny. Someone or something is out there. Picking us up when we fall, guiding us when we are lost and healing us when we are broken.

 

A Day to Remember

Today was just one of those days where I remember the smallest random moments in my life.  These moments are categorized into 3 main parts.  Turning points in my life, Happy Memories, Sad Moments. All of a sudden, I experienced something akin to opening a tap.  A rush of very vivid memories just filled my mind.  Almost as if my life was flashing before my eyes, but without the horrible near death thing.  Thankful for small mercies… like you will not believe…

My mind was jumping from one location to the next, in no specific order.

I found myself smiling with longing: I’m in a dark coffee shop with my Dad.  He’s having his usual black coffee and I am drinking Milo, each of us is holding five cards in our hands, trying desperately to read the other’s face. In the centre of the table there’s a pile of unused matches. We used to go to Rainbow Coffee Shop (when they still existed) every Saturday.  We’d spend hours there just playing poker. Sometimes I won all the matches, sometimes he would, but at the end, we’d put all the matches back and keep it for the following week.  This is my fondest memory with him. I was sixteen or seventeen and no Saturday has ever compared with that. A father is important.

I’m standing in front of the server, just as I came back from a six week sick leave period. Due to my condition my memories were compromised and I had to be retrained on backing up data. I was embarrassed at my clear lack of knowledge on something I had done for years. My concentration levels were not back to normal yet and I really struggled to follow what our Senior Back Up Administrator was saying (IT Geniuses usually have little time to explain the finer things, you know) I asked him to wait so I could make notes. When I returned he gave me a strange look and said “You’re really broken, aren’t you?” All of a sudden, I wasn’t embarrassed anymore, it was so like him to make fun of a serious situation. It was okay, I was okay, despite my problems, I was still accepted… (Well, as much as a genius can accept a moron)

I’m in a large crowd, everyone’s yelling and freaking out, in my one hand there is a beer in a plastic cup and my other hand is holding a schwarma, I’m wearing a bright yellow shirt with the words “South Africa” written on it.  We’re at the Bellville Velodrome fan park along with approximately twenty thousand fans.  The last game before South Africa fell out of the World Cup. The vibe was indescribable.  My friend found us some open spaces to sit and watch the game, but the floor was wet with beer and the space was very small. As I tried to take my jacket off (to sit on) a woman sitting close by on a blanket made some space for us on her blanket, sharing in Ubuntu. Not finding a comfortable spot to sit, I was perched uncomfortably in an almost crouching position. The man sitting behind me pulled his legs up and offered his shins as a backrest due to limited space. When the game was finished, all the fans helped each other up, embraced and moved the party outside. Such spirit in my country men.  Such love and caring.  This is why I love my people so much.

I have the flu and can’t go out. My friends phone me up and instruct me to dress warmly, they’re fetching me.  I spend the entire night cuddled with a blanket on the couch at the party, my friends take it in turns to keep me company.  I am truly blessed.

We arrive home and Casey tells me something is wrong with the hamster.  I check and the hamster is ice cold, but making gagging noises. I struggle for half an hour to get the hamster to breath and warm her up, but everything fails. She dies in my hands, but I could see the relief in her eyes that she was not alone. To make matters worse, I know she died from the poison we put down under the fridge.  She ran in there before we could catch her and some of it must have been ingested by Hami.  I cry for an hour and my daughter cries for days. No matter how small a pet is and how long you have it, they somehow become an integral part of your life. You miss them when they’re gone.

I’m bar tending when a customer asks me why I look so sad.  Stunned, I look at him, I’ve smiled the entire day, I’ve laughed and joked with all the patrons, I have been cheerful and helpful.  What could he possibly mean? So I just laugh and tell him, I’m fine, and asks why he would think I am sad. He looks at me and says, “Your eyes, oh God, your eyes are so sad.” I was completely taken aback.  I was sad, I had lost a good friend over a trivial matter and the problem could not be resolved, but I had learned at a young age how to hold a poker face, how to be happy even if you’re falling apart. I realized immediately, no matter how happy or sad you look, your eyes will always tell the truth.  They are the windows to the soul, and all that will ever be necessary to reveal yourself, would be someone that takes the time to look.

 

The Katalina Blog Challenge #4: Why I Write

Why do I write?  This is a question that I never really thought of and yet, thought of all the time.  Strange statement, but truthfully, the most accurate.  It was always just an awareness of the question, I don’t think I ever truly had the guts to think about it, and as there was no need, I didn’t have to.

I grew up in an artistic family.  My mother was a painter and music teacher, all my siblings were phenomenal at at least one of these things; if not both.  Then five years after “The Next Big Painter” was born, an anomaly came along. You guessed it, me. Here was a child that excelled at drama and languages, but sucked at painting. Who had the discipline to practice her music every day and was able to play five instruments… very very badly. The only child that did not make it into the school choir. I still remember the humiliation of that day.  Being the youngest of five children in a very small town, meant that every one knew how talented my siblings were.  At singing, music, painting, drawing, you name it. I tried out for the school choir and was accused of trying to disguise my voice so I don’t have to sing in the choir. My very embarrassed mother had to explain to the music teacher that I in fact could not sing at all.  The truth was that I really wanted to get into the choir and prove that I too was part of this phenomenal family, but to coin a phrase; I couldn’t carry a tune if it was in a bucket…

Being the youngest of five children, meant that my siblings taught me to read and write at a very young age.  I devoured my first book just before I turned five.  I still remember the black and white pictures in the book: “Dr Dolittle” I discovered that I could hide in story books.  In fiction I could be whatever I wanted, the hero who saves the day, the victim that survives against all odds, the most talented person in the world. I started reading every book that I could find. I read “Circles in a Forest” when I was seven.  Imagine my surprise when I read it again years later; it was not about the elephant at all.  I had missed a large portion of the story due to my inexperience. This realization caused me to re-read many books, obsessing about the story line. It came as no real surprise that I wanted to start putting down story lines myself. The first story I ever wrote was a one pager regarding my visit to a world where lions could talk (they ruled the world off course). This story was written in the back of one of my school work books and inevitably was discovered by my teacher. I can’t recall her name, but she contacted my parents to try and convince them to nurture this love of writing.  I was too young to remember much regarding what followed, but as there was no enthusiasm from my parents, I started trying to hide my stories.

Inspiration is such a sneaky one though, you inevitably start writing on something you shouldn’t because you suddenly have this excess of words that need to escape, and any surface will do. Occasionally my writing would be found and the critique was quite severe for someone as young as I was.  I started using that to try and improve my skills.  Years later I started writing poetry which, once again, sometimes just had to come out on whatever surface was closest.  My dad found them and was stunned. He had no idea that the little girl who fantasized about talking lions would one day be a poet.  Published or no, that is how he saw me.  For the first time in my entire life, my family realized that I was creative and good at something, even if it wasn’t the same things they were good at.  I still love music and painting, but my true love will always be writing.  The potential of an empty page always captivates me.  What is in store for that perfect white page? Then ideas seem to flow and inspiration sneaks up…

 

Katalina Blog Challenge #3: Pretend You Are Me

First of all… Are you sure? I mean, you may never speak to me again after this… Oh right, that’s probably why you are doing it…

Before you get started for the day; here are a few last minute things that you will need to know in order to be convincing.

1. When opening the post box, dustbin, cupboard, or anything else for that matter; you do so tentatively, with two fingers, or one if at all possible. You carefully peer inside without completely opening and once you have visual confirmation that it’s safe, you open it entirely. If there are visible spiders/webs, you drop whatever you are holding (including that crystal glass you got for your birthday) and back away swiftly; yelling like a ten year old. This rule applies to anything that can be opened – unless you can see it’s entirely safe; like glassware.
2. You do not kill spiders unless they are poisonous and you are at least two meters away with a full bottle of Doom and if no one else is there to do it for you. The non lethal ones are allowed to be evicted by your husband (as long as they are never seen again) Afterwards you are required to shudder uncontrollably and mumble things like “Blech”, “Ugh” and “Eek” Insert shudders between every word.
3. You drop the keys or padlock every day; not because you’re clumsy (let’s face it, you’re an accident waiting to happen, but that’s not why) but you’re usually so busy checking it for spiders that you can’t keep a grip on the things in you hand.
4. You are clumsy. You walk into walls, desks, office dividers and the fridge. Every day.  Even though you know it’s there, you can’t help it. You just do this. You’re mostly okay with it, but occasionally you swear.
5. You don’t swear, and when you do, you’re more surprised than the people around you.
6. When you do swear, you use the Battlestar Galactica word: “Frak” Because it doesn’t count.
7. You really don’t need another pair of shoes.  Let it go.  NO! Put that extra pair of heels down; you’ll probably never wear them.  I know they’ll look fabulous with that dress you have, but just let it go.  I know you can.
8. When you succeed beyond all odds; you are required to exclaim your success in Klingon.  The word you’re looking for here is: “Qapla!” You use it instead of the cornier option of “Eureka” You never use the word Eureka.  EVER.
9. When someone is a complete idiot and you think you may despise their idiocy; you have to mutter under your breath: “P’Taq” To help you decide upon the proper time for use of the word: It means useless piece of garbage.
10. When saying goodbye to someone you may never see again (only when you wish them well off course) you whisper out of earshot of everyone: “Live long and prosper”
11. You really love Star Trek
12. No matter what you hear about it; you know it is the best, and you stand your ground. The fate of the Empire rests with you.
13. You love most Sci Fi and Fantasy and there is little you do not know about King Arthur and Merlin; including the fact that Merlin was possibly an arse that betrayed the king.  You just don’t believe that Merlin ever would. No matter what Wiki says, Morgana was the most evil bitch in the world.  The End.
14. You love Vampires, but you’re a purist.  VAMPIRES DO NOT SPARKLE.
15. You’re terrified of zombies. Something about their witless slow stumble freaks you the hell out.  The best part about zombies are when the good guys win, or someone survives against all odds, but when the movie/series is on, you can’t seem to help yourself.  You must know. You can’t stop watching and you enjoy it.  Weird.
16. You’re afraid of Wrong Turn.  Those people are just nasty. Saw (all of them) was too gross to finish watching.
17. Movies like Omen, The Exorcist and Paranormal Activity wasn’t scary at all.  You don’t know why people are afraid of it, but you humour them anyway.
18. You always notice when people are going through an issue/problem, and you have to help them.  You don’t know why, but you just know you can, so you do.
19. When speaking to people you love (this rule applies to all animals) you call them one of the following: Gorgeous (Mostly used with Waldo and the cat) Beautiful (this one is exclusively Casey’s) you are also required to add a “ness” afterward on occasion; just for variety: Awesome “ness”, Gorgeous “ness” and so on.
20. You give people close to you/friends/people you admire silly and appropriate nicknames.
21. People you like are referred to as “Honey” You don’t know why.
22. You have to bath the cat at least once a month, brush him for an hour a week, and cuddle with him at least once a day.  You don’t care about the sinus and rash (you’re allergic to the cat)
23. When you’re nervous, you babble.  Incessantly.
24. You believe in ghosts (which you admit), you believe in fairies (which you deny) and you believe in people (sometimes)
25. Sometimes you don’t know when to quit. Who’re we kidding? Quit is for other people.

This additional information should be able to make the switch a little more believable, but when in doubt, grin idiotically and mutter in Klingon. No one else understands it, so you can call them whatever you like. Just be careful. There are a lot of closet geeks in the world.  If they sign off your salary or are much larger than you, smile and fake it. Or ramble.  This usually works to scare even the most tenacious away. Don’t give me feedback and don’t phone for instructions.  I don’t care. I’m going to take a nap.

 

 

 

The Katalina Blog Challenge #2: Inserting A Solution

She was exhausted. So tired that she could barely drag her armored body out of the marsh pits. She managed, barely, and collapsed on a piece of moist soil, on the edge of the stinking marshlands. For a week, she was trapped in the marshes. Seven days and seven nights.  Freezing, alone, exhausted. More alone than she ever would have known possible.

She had not entered the marshes alone. She was not meant to leave it by herself. Her friend and fellow soldier was supposed to help her, to carry her wounded behind back to base. The events of the last few days left a bitter taste in her mouth.  She could still not believe it.  The intelligence came from a reliable source, a close friend for seven years.  How was it possible that the enemy could know? How did they trap them so quickly and efficiently? The first day she was stunned that it was possible at all.  Now she knew different. Not only was it possible, it was intentional. Everything was planned out from the very beginning.

The week started out normally enough.  Recon work, straight and simple. No heroics, get in, get out; be invisible and efficient. Straightforward. Right?  It was to be a two man team which got bumped up to three at the last minute. She has worked with the third team mate before, not often, but trusted her well enough to believe things would be fine. The Third was an efficient soldier, and has moved up in the ranks by sheer force of will; a trait that she respected greatly. Things were going great. They had enough intelligence on the enemy movements to be able to report something constructively. Who the better soldiers were, which units were the most dangerous, where each unit was based.  They were ready to move on; get back to base. They were crawling through the marshes, trying to remain unseen when the enemy raised up around them, as mist rolling around a cliff, invisible until it was entirely too late to turn in time, to escape the inevitable sheer drop of death below. They were calm and self assured, as if they posed no threat, which in truth, they wouldn’t against such sheer numbers, but she would fight to the death; she’d rather die fighting than undergo endless torture where she may even betray her family in sheer desperation to end the pain.

Her blade was ready, her eyes focused… unfortunately they were focused on the wrong enemy.  She had not expected an enemy in her camp, even then, she had not expected two. The Third took the sword and tossed it hilt first to the enemy commander. Her friend of seven years kneed her hard in the back, bringing her to her knees in unexpected pain.  A pain that was not only physical, but deeply mental and emotional.  Such betrayal could not compute in her mind.  She could not understand the concept. “Why?” she cried.  Her friend gave her a look of utmost contempt and spat so close in front of her that she could feel the spray on its descent. “I will not discuss this with you!” Her mind reeling, she was led away, unfeeling, broken, uncaring that she may be tortured.  Her mind could simply not fathom such evil; such deep betrayal. Her chest ached with the sheer weight of it.

As she was led into the camp, her eyes made brief contact with a gigantic monster.  He was at least seven feet tall and was surrounded by three smaller foreign looking men. She could not even flinch away from his sheer size through her pain.  She could simply not wake up her spirit.  As if her spirit had given up and died; her friend’s betrayal had given her spirit a mortal wound.  Nothing could change it. She would die, and it was best because what are we without our souls?

Sitting in the frozen, dark cell; alone, she heard a faint scratch of metal against metal. She crept back against the wall,  imminent torture waking her dull mind and insisting she fight back, insisting that she wake her wounded spirit, that she rather die than betray. The gigantic monster leaned into the small cell and whispered in a heavy accent. “Follow me”

Not understanding why, she crept silently from the cell, finding the three men that was with the giant earlier, there with him.  They all motioned for her to be silent and crept (remarkably) gracefully from the camp.  They led her about a kilometer away from the camp before the giant spoke. “Your people have friends here, and however long until we see them again, we will miss them.  You remain in our hearts.” With that, the giant crept back with his four accomplices.  Never giving their names.

She kept creeping away from the marshes, toward home, knowing, somewhere behind her, four brave souls were fighting with honour for the righteous in the only way they knew how. That day, those four men saved her life, forever becoming a part of her heart as well. She may never see them again, she may not know their names or even why they did what they did, but they would remain with her forever. In thanks, in love and light.