The country isn't as peaceful as you think

So apparently there is an air born disease effecting the wildlife in the area and my friend Chris told me to expect a horde of zombies to follow, so I should be prepared. Don't worry guys, my dad's display case of guns reassures my safety enough. It's like Left 4 Dead without med kits laying about. (Med kits are the only exception. We are a heavy medicated, well prepared family with war vets, computer techs, bikers and college drop outs. And yes, you may very well find a stash of pills in random places.) I am mostly concerned with my cat Emmy, who was booted outside for the presents she leaves around the house and in strangers' shoes. I thought it was funny. Dad, not so much.

It all started today, while I was in class when Mom saw a raccoon walking down the driveway.

In the middle of the afternoon.

They are nocturnal.

You catching on?

This raccoon was swaying back and forth as it progressed down the hill from the main road with only brief moments of normalcy. One second it seemed perfectly fine, the next it was spazzing out, all twitchy and shit. That is a no go. Obviously something was seriously wrong with it. Her first thought was rabies. Anyone who knows anything about anything would have thought of rabies. You have to know this shit when you move out into the country, especially when you have children.

Well, a phone call to the police and to animal control later, it was beneath the deck in our backyard. With my cat.

A little bit of me died inside when I typed that.

Ahem.

An officer and someone from animal control came out to the property, took one look, and said that they couldn't do anything about it. If they shot at it, there was a chance that the bullet would hit the brick of the side of the house, and that was a no go. They didn't even stick around or try to persuade it out into the open. They just left my mom there with a house full of children and a delirious animal under the deck. Yeah, way to do your friggin jobs guys.

When Dad got home, and this is why I feel very much protected during a potential zombie apocalypse, he went into his room, opened the window, took aim, and fired. (Of course we kept the kids upstairs and distracted them in hopes they wouldn't hear the gun shot.) God. That creature didn't stand a chance. My dad is a badass.

Now we are watching my cat for signs of this disease, a disease that is not rabies. My other animals aren't allowed near her. It's heartbreaking, and there is nothing I can do. I have to walk away when she stares in through the window and meows. It's like I'm sacrificing her for the good of the group or something. To top it all off, I now know that law enforcement and animal control can't do shit out here, and that really sucks. God forbid there is a break in or a hostage situation here.

"Well... the door is locked. We can't get inside. Let's go home boys."

"But sir..."

"There's nothing we can do."

Zombie animals, dead beat people who can't do their jobs...

I can't wait to move to Galveston.

A 360 turned 180

I swear to God someone must have mass produced voodoo dolls of me, pins included.

Today I woke up with higher spirits than last night as consequence to putting my situation online. I guess in a way, the post was a good method for me to expel the pent up frustration so that I could move on. This revelation isn't new for me, so I am not sure why I haven't clued into doing it more often. Anyway, so I got out of bed with a voice of inner encouragement playing in repetitions in my head. "Today is going to be great. You are going to avoid doodling on your notes in class. You are going to smile until your face is numb. You are going to make the most of the next 24 hours." Of course, who listens to advice when it is your own? Obviously I do not exhibit self motivation in my actions.

My light spirit was maintained by the strangest American Literature lecture I have had in a while later that afternoon. Let's just say my professor ended the hour and a half of discussion about Emerson with, "Any last thoughts on Walt Disney's opium addiction, S&M, ejaculation, or baseball?"

Yeah. I was throughly delighted for the rest of the day.

When I got home, I didn't do half of the things I had planned on doing because I got too caught up searching for cool stuff on Etsy to buy for the apartment. Oh. Did I forget to mention that Michael and I decided on a new, kick ass pad on the beach to occupy this coming May? I would do the usual squeal of joy then leap from my seat, but I am in too much pain to execute such a reaction, hence my starting the post in the manner that I did.

I was on cloud nine with the thought of moving in with Michael, so when I got up to go to the restroom, I began to hum blissfully and spun in what I expected to be a successful circle. I only made it halfway before I collided with the metal shoe rack at my feet.

Let's just say that only one of us made it out semi-alive.

Little pieces of bad news can have huge consequences

When I first figured out what it was that I wanted to do with my life, I knew that there was a chance that someday I would be putting all of my effort into a project only to discover that someone managed to get the same idea out into the world before I could. But nothing can prepare a writer for such a disappointment, especially when they thought that their idea was one hundred percent original.

I found that out the hard way today when a friend of mine asked about my musical and revealed to me that what I thought to be a unique idea was actually the opposite.

I guess that I am going to have to look at the hours that I put into the musical as a method of warming up for a bigger project in the future, something even greater than this first attempt. But I can't help but feel an ache in my chest whenever I think about how anxious I was to get the musical finished. All of the deadlines in my schedule book are useless now I guess. No use continuing with something that will get me nowhere.

Once I finish the short story due in my creative writing class this Wednesday and midterms have passed, I'll focus on one of my other projects during Spring Break. Or I'll just read a good book. I haven't done that in a while.

This really sucks. But hey, life goes on.

Computers hate me, and so does Chilis.

Just when I thought shit cloud was here to stay, a stroke of luck came upon me and now I am back to a lesser state of paranoia. You see, my laptop was not charging because the thing is bipolar and only decides to work when I really don't need it all that much. All of my school notes are on it and midterms are next week. But that realization came to me after the first: my musical is on there. Yeah. Fuck you school. Fuck you notes. I just want my musical. But today the charger decided to give me a break and lit up. I hope it works tomorrow in class. If not, how the heck am I supposed to spam Twitter and read online comics? (Oh, hi Mom.) I mean, how am I supposed to take detailed notes on the great American writers Emerson and Poe if I don't have the means to charge my laptop? There's always paper, but that is so 90's and my wrist still hurts when I move it too much. Yeah, I broke it last year in a Chili's parking lot. But that is a story for another time. I wonder if my professor would object to me bringing my desktop...

(It's that time of the month again, and I don't mean aunt flow. I mean the blogger spotlight has been updated. Congrats to Mindful Mustache and to Tickets for Two! And if you are bored, check out my new "Things I Like" section and click a number. Chances are you could find something super awesome. I can't promise that there isn't porn. You'll just have to find out on your own.)

Me-OW!

Today was the first day all week where the sun hasn't been hiding behind clouds full of sky urine. So I decided that I would take advantage of this lovely Sunday and would go outside to tan.

I was outside for less than ten minutes, and it wasn't because of the sun being unbearable or because I forgot the suntan lotion. No. It was because Dex decided that he would go to any length to receive the attention he had been deprived of all day. I was stretched out on the deck with a book, the only time I have managed to do so in a long time. I could hear Dex mewing across the yard but paid no attention to it in the same manner as the book. Instead, I closed my eyes and let the sun shine on my face, a sensation that reminded me of what it is that I am to look forward to this summer. A sensation that I will share with Mike.

I was so completely involved in thinking about the up and coming summer that it came as a surprise to me when I felt a set of claws digging into my ass. Dex had laid down on my legs and placed a paw on each of my cheeks. By instinct my first response was to reach back to tie my bikini top. But the more I struggled with it, the deeper the claws went into my ass. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry!

Like anyone being molested by an animal, I tried to get away. I put my hands beneath his paws, then started to inch toward the edge of the bench I was laying on. But my bikini top was still untied and if I managed to slide off of the bench I'd find myself topless and sprawled out on a deck that desperately needs to be sanded.

So I called out as loud as a could to the only person who could understand my predicament, the woman who birthed me. By blood I have adopted her clumsiness and her ability to find herself in situations similar to this one.

"MOMMY!!!"

She never came, which arouses the suspicion that shit cloud has returned. I really hope it leaves by next week.  Professors don't seem to take shit cloud into consideration when grading midterms.When I finally got away, I went inside feeling like I was just forced into experiencing a fetish as taboo as 2 girls 1 cup.

An hour later, a glimpse outside revealed a sleeping cat on the bench where I was laying. I guess he needed to recover from all of the ass he got. Literally.