In which I meet an awesome person

Some years ago, I was asked to watch three children for the night so that their parents could have a date night.

For the life of me, I can't remember their names, but there was a five year old boy, and one and a half year old twins.

These parents had one of the best ways of sneaking out without a fuss ever. They'd send the toddlers into the back yard and have them race each other three times. During the third circuit around the fenced in area, they'd creep back inside and out the door. The kids didn't even notice them leaving. 

I got my first taste of what the night was going to be like when the five year old looks up from his piece of pizza and says, "Can we watch Power Rangers while we eat?" Well, his parents hadn't said he couldn't, and I usually check such things, so I said "Sure! Why not!" The t.v. was already on, and it was (shudder) Power Rangers SPD (Space Police Department or something). 

So apparently, if you're a Power Ranger, you can be an alien that looks like a blue coyote who was kicked out of the Muppets, but once you morph, you look like a human ranger because they don't make dog-shaped helmets! (Is that racist of them? I think it might be, a little. Maybe it's species-ist.)

Anyway. We get through the whole episode with me wiping cheese and sauce off the twins' faces and cringing at the terrible special effects on the screen.

The show ends and we leave the t.v. on because none of us actually know how to turn it off. The five year old and I took the twins upstairs and played with blocks in their room for a while. Then the kid turns to me and asks if he can play alone in his room. "I got a lot of Transformers," he says, "And I don't want the babies to break them." 

Well, I didn't see anything wrong with that, since the room in question was right next door. He scrambles off to play with his action figures (which turned out to be three or four Star Wars Transformers crossover toys and a handful of characters from the 2007 Transformers movie). I, on the other hand, found a strange but effective way to keep the toddlers amused. The boy twin sat down at the bottom of the stairs and would not come back up. The girl twin sat at the top of the stairs and would not go down. So, I grabbed a bouncy ball and let gravity take it all the way to the little boy. 

They were delighted, which means that I had to repeat the motion some fifty gajillion times before they tired of it.

As the little girl was handing me all manner of things to toss down the stairs (most of them non-bouncing, like rubber ducks), we were all startled by a sudden commotion. See, up till this point, the older boy had been playing so quietly that all we could hear was a murmur. Now, though, the silence was broken by someone yelling, "MEGATROOON!" I jumped. 

Somehow or other, this five year old boy was doing a passable imitation of Peter Cullen and it was both hilarious and disturbing.

The following is what the twins and I overheard (As much as I can remember)

"Mwah ha ha ha ha! You'll never defeat me, Autobots!" (in a growly sort of voice)

"Not so fast, Megatron!" (The Optimus voice)

"Oh no! It's Optimus Prime!" (random Decepticon)

(various battle cries and explosions)

"You can't stop me, Optimus, because I have...THE DEATH STAR!" (I don't know where Megatron got a Death Star, but apparently he had one.)

"Look out, Luke!" (I think that was supposed to be Bumblebee)

"Aaaaah! It's Darth Vader!" (more explosions and a fair amount of screaming)

From the sounds of things, Darth Vader and Megatron teamed up against the Autobots and the Star Wars good guys. After that, it was mostly crashing noises and a whole lot of "AAAAHHHH!"

That kid was awesome.

When the parents came home that night, he ran up and declared that I had to come back because I knew the names of all four Ninja Turtles. Because that's a criteria for babysitting.

Little Feet and Future Dreams

I love kids. Everyone who's met me can probably testify to that.

I can't even count the amount of times I've interacted with an adorable child somewhere and turned to my friends to say, "I want one!"

Yesterday, I was pushing a swing for a very little girl, and chanting nonsense rhymes about her shoes and how many toes she had (to her great amusement) and I began wondering what it would be like to tie the shoelaces of my own child, to push a teeny tiny me on the swings and tuck a baby of my own into bed at night. It's not the first time I've had thoughts like this, nor will it be the last. Ever since I was old enough to know what a baby was, I've wanted to be a mom. But the older I get, the more I wonder whether or not I will be a mom. 

No no, don't mistake me, I'm not being pessimist or depressed!

You see, if I were going to have a child, I would be married. That would be awesome, to be married, but at this point in my life, I am just as content with being single. (It took me a loooooong time to get to that point though, let me tell you!) Maybe God has someone reserved for me/ me reserved for someone, and maybe He doesn't. I tend to think that at this stage I'm a little too young to definitely say its either. (I mean, goodness gracious, I could say: "I'm gonna be single forevers, y'all!" and then meet my future husband ten years later. Who knows!) But the thing is, I'm okay with it either way. But then I see children, and I want so much to take care of them and protect them and teach them about Jesus.

It's funny, in a way...

Despite not being a mom, I have had plenty of practice. I know the fun parts, like when the baby takes her first step and its towards you, and the not so fun parts, like when the toddler throws his very first temper tantrum because you've decided that two hours of Spongebob Squarepants is too much for anyone.

Things I have learned from and about kids:

1. The screeching tantrum-thrower isn't going to die if I keep washing the dishes instead of catering to their whim. My ears might bleed a little by the end, but the kid needs to know where the boundaries are.

2. There comes a moment when the baby will not sleep at night, and she is colicky and teething and very indignant indeed. When that moment comes, I have found myself singing every song I know and some I don't. Hey, if singing "Moon River" works instead of "Rock-a-bye Baby", I say go for it.

3. Quiet is nice unless the children are toddlers. Then silence is very, very worrying. Especially if it is suddenly broken by the words, "Oooh, sticky!"

4. Sometimes, I need to be around a preschooler to learn to use my imagination again. Like when one little guy decided that by putting his movie chair on top of the couch, he'd made a spaceship and his little brother was an alien.

5. Never underestimate how much children understand. I've had a four year old girl look up at me with shining eyes and announce, "Hey Miss Erin, I'm not gonna die when I die, cuz Jesus forgived me and is livin' in my heart!" (Note to self: make sure future child knows that this does not mean that they no longer have blood pumped through heart, as this little one thought). I've had a seven year old in a Sunday School class who (normally a rambunctious little fellow) was very nearly in tears because a boy in his elementary school did not believe in Jesus. I've seen children whose entire personalities changed at a very young age because they asked Jesus into their hearts. 

6. Sometimes, I've felt like I had extra arms. For instance, the times when I've had to hold a baby on one hip, make a bottle with one hand, and answer a phone all at once. Those are the times when it was really helpful to have my twin sister there: then I really did have a second set of arms!

7. When a little girl wants you to play Tea Party with R2D2 and the Abominable Snowman, you play Tea Party with R2D2 and the Abominable Snowman.

8. What you allow is what will continue. (Classroom management, Babysitting, it can work for both).

9. Sometimes the baby doesn't stop crying. Sometimes the kids get all their clothes dirty, and the house is a mess, and the work piles up. Sometimes the little one is rude and disobedient and it's so hard. And then sometimes the baby doesn't stop smiling, and the kids come and hug you for no good reason, and you catch the kindergartner cleaning his room of his own accord. Sometimes you just have to stand back and laugh at the absurd antics that happen in the playroom.

10. Picking baby outfits is really fun. Except maybe when there's nothing left in the closet but their church clothes because they managed to get stuff on all their other clothes. 

So, is it weird that sometimes I think of all this and apply it to if I ever have a child of my own?

Even though I'm a long way from motherhood, I find myself dreaming about little names and tiny outfits and what kind of things I would do as a mom. (Such as have kids listening to Ella Fitzgerald before they could walk, and dressing them retro.) I know that if I get married, I would want to adopt a child, because that's something that's been on my mind and heart for probably eleven years straight. 

 Is it weird that there's a name that's been floating around in my head for a long time? I don't know if the owner of that name will ever actually be my baby specifically though. Maybe she'll be a student of mine, or a niece, or the daughter of a friend. 

But then again, maybe she will be my baby. Who knows? 

It's way too soon for me to plan things like that, I know, but sometimes, I can't help but dream.

If I might be allowed to be Geeky for a moment...

This right here is one of the main reasons I love the show "Transformers: Prime". I mean, look at this action! The characters are well-written, the battle scenes are awesome, and ohmygosh Frank Welker and Peter Cullen are back as Megatron and Optimus Prime respectively.

The series is officially over now, three seasons and a movie later, but next year there's supposed to be a spin-off series, which leaves me hopeful.

Megatron and Optimus fighting side-by-side will always be one of the coolest moments in Transformers History, in my personal opinion.

There: you've been exposed to a mild level of my nerdiness. I'll up the dosage as we go to inoculate you all against my insanity.

We interrupt our usual broadcast to bring you this important message...

Happy Birthday, Ben!

I know I already posted on your Facebook wall, but it was 2:00 in the morning and so I didn't really say anything beyond "happy birthday, Ben", which I almost wrote as "happy birthday Bean" because I was tired.

So, I am now starting a tradition of leaving birthday messages for my family on this blog as well as Facebook.

Happy Birthday, bro! My first memory of meeting you was an all-Res Life meeting where your hall was all dressed up in crazy outfits. You had on a strange red wig, and were shaking a staff and shouting, and I remember thinking, "That guy is cool."

And now you're my soon-to-be brother-in-law.

You're awesome, Ben.

This is what happens when you live in a dorm...

I live on a dormitory hall full of women. Lively, creative, amazing, and beautiful women.

What this means is that life is never boring. And as I have said multiple times before, it's like a sitcom.

I live in a room by myself, but that just means that in the quietness of my mostly empty room, I can hear what goes on in the hall much better. For example, one day after several bouts of "WHO STOLE MY SHOES?!" on the hall, I came out to find that the victim had made a large flowchart and placed it on her door. I can't remember all the complexities, but what stood out to me was this:

If that wasn't enough to convince you that I live on an awesome hall, how about this? Shortly after I first moved in, the girls in the room next door to me were playing the soundtrack from the musical "Wicked". I was humming along from my room, and when it came to the song "Popular", I started to sing Glinda's part in my best Kristen Chenowith impersonation. I had the door open, so they could hear me.

One of the girls who'd been singing came running over and we ended up dueting the rest of the song. It. was. glorious. At any given time, someone can be singing a showtune on the hall and someone else from several doors down will finish it.

Here's the one that takes the cake so far:

This morning, our R.A. came out of her room to find that someone had taken aquamarine-colored duct tape and made a crime-scene body outline on the floor in front of her door. Next to it were three sticky notes carrying the message, "This is what happens when you go to bed early."

She said she stared for a minute and then laughed. My reaction when I discovered it was a rather loud, "What the heck?!" ...that's a common enough occurrence on my hall: you hear some really weird things.

I think we've even started our own quote wall, separate from the one I posted earlier. 

For example:

1. "Skunks are like the unicorns of the jungle!"

2. "I want to be hugged...by a sandwich!"

3. "Are you aware that you have a belt tucked into your back pocket?" "Yeah, Hannah put it there." "Oh, goo-....wait. ....And the circle gets weirder."

4. "Aw, I love to hear the rain tapping on my window!" "That's not the only thing tapping on your window." (Creepy grin)

I love my hall.

 

Your Friendly Neighborhood Slenderman

Maybe you've heard of him:

A tall, thin creature with no face, inexplicably wearing a nice suit in the deep woods, sometimes he has tentacles?

He kind of fits into my hobby of folklore, I've decided. Well, actually, he goes into a category known as fakelore. Fakelore includes things like the old Paul Bunyan, in case you were wondering. It's a legend presented as if it were classic folklore passed down through generations when in reality it was made up in more recent times. I think Slenderman sticks in our minds because he might be the first enduring mythological character invented on the internet. I may be wrong, of course, but that's my theory.

Are you afraid of the Dark?

Well, according to the Slender Man Wiki (no really, it exists), Slendy is anywhere from 6 to 15 feet tall, sometimes has tentacles, can either teleport or warp reality, and stalks people. I think the main scary thing about him is probably the fact that he somehow seems to tie in to people's fear of the dark. Fear of the dark is common in children, and sometimes continues into adulthood to some degree or another. It is not the darkness itself which is so frightening, but the idea that if there were something lurking in the darkness, you would not be able to see it.

I'm sure most of us have been in this situation before: you're home alone at night and almost all the lights are off in the house. Suddenly, the wall creaks, or the ice maker makes a noise, and immediately your brain jumps to the conclusion that there's probably an axe-murderer in your house. (Those poor axes, they never stood a chance).

I guess that's why we have nightlights when we're kids. (Actually, sometimes mine just made things worse when I was a little girl).

During the day, I had this nice little bookcase with a funny wavy shape.

Once the lights went off, however, it wasn't so nice. See, that curvy edge caught the edge of the nightlight, and the resulting shadow looked to us kindergartners like someone crouching next to our bookcase.

Mom and Dad had to come in multiple times to tell us, "No, that's a bookcase, not a person." So in my case, it was more of a fear of shadows than fear of the dark.

So, who's afraid of Slenderman?

Sometime you should watch a video of someone playing "Slender: the Eight Pages". It can be pretty hilarious. Mind you, you have to be careful because some of those videos will have a lot of inappropriate language in them. ("Teens React To.." is a safe one, if I remember correctly).

In the game, you play first-person-point-of-view, hiking through the woods for no reason. You aren't told where you are or why, you just have to find 8 pieces of paper with weird and creepy doodles on them. Oh, and if you aren't careful, your flashlight will die and you'll be stuck. You walk around and every now and again, you run into a random faceless dude in a suit with impossibly long arms.

That wouldn't be scary for most people, I'm guessing, so they do what they can to make it scary. In a mostly silent game, the sudden discordant shout of several piano keys being struck at once and the static across your screen serves to inform you that whatever you're looking at isn't supposed to be. Then, of course, the fact that they start playing the sound of an increasing heartbeat helps condition the player into a fear response.

Seriously though, I'm more worried about the abandoned oil tankers and the random public restroom with no toilets in the middle of the woods. I mean, yeah, Slendy tends to be in there, but why are there only wooden chairs in what is clearly a bathroom?! That's always bothered me more than Slendy.

I've played the game myself, but any shrieking I did was either because of the sudden jarring music, or because I was frustrated that I'd lost the game yet again after only finding 5 pages. Slenderman is kind of a terrible person.

Not that I can't see why he's supposed to be scary, of course,

As the legends build up around him, he's become a sort of modern-day bogeyman. He stands out to our eyes because something about him is just off. What was your first hint? the lack of face, or the fact that he's wearing a business suit in the woods?

He tends to appear around kids or fires for no specific reason, and he is often portrayed with these weird tentacle-y thingies coming from his back...which probably just ruins that suit. He apparently pops in and out of existence as he pleases, generally interferes with cameras, and can cause memory loss, paranoia, and eventual madness in anyone who sees him. (Side effects may include...) Also, he teleports, making running away a bit of a no-go. The guy hangs out in the woods and once he picks a victim, he stalks them until they either lose their minds and die, or lose their minds and become his personal Igors. Or something like that.

In short, he has no social life.

Am I creeped out by Slenderman? Nope, not really.

See, when I was a kid, somebody gave me an Amish doll. Ever seen an Amish doll? They don't have faces either. The way it was explained to me is that the Amish see giving a doll a face as an idol. Anyway, I don't remember how old I was, maybe six or seven? But I was given this doll, and I named it Sarah. I thought she was a little strange at first, all long arms and legs and no face, but I very quickly got attached to her. I can remember wandering around the property our old church was on, carrying my Amish doll and chasing peacocks and snakes...okay, maybe I actually ran screaming from the snakes.

So, I see Slenderman, and my first thought tends to be, "Giant Amish doll!"

What's so scary about that, eh? A big, scary Amish doll that goes from place to place without ever moving and hides in the dark. 

Never mind. That is creepy.

But then again, maybe he's not trying to be creepy. I mean, it's not like he could actually tell you what he wanted, he hasn't got a mouth! Seeing as he automatically induces a fight-or-flight response when someone sees him, no one is going to stick around long enough to play charades and figure out what he wants. Come on! Maybe all he wants is a hug! As someone on a Facebook thread I was part of said once, "All we need is to make him a happy face mask, and we can rename him Stick-Buddy!"

The guy doesn't talk, and makes no noise aside from camera static, so you pretty much have to be looking right at him to even know he's there. And since he messes up electrical equipment, he probably can't use the internet to get in touch with people either. Bummer.

Pass him in the dark, and you might not even know he's there.

A moment of Silence for our introverted Stick-Buddy.

Oh, did you catch the capital "S"? Yes, that was deliberate.

You see, the Silence from Doctor Who were based on Slenderman.

The "Nope" list of Doom

Sometimes you see something, and your first reaction is to run away as quickly as possible. I like to call those "Nope!" moments.

I got that from the scene in "The Hobbit" where Bilbo just goes "Nope!" and faints.

I have said it before, and I'll say it again: I live in a sitcom. Whether it's out and about with friends or living the college dorm life, sometimes there are moments that are just nightmarish. The following is a very short list of "Nope!" moments. Hopefully the reader will add some of their own to the comment section (hint hint: I welcome feedback). 

1. Awkward Wedding

I was four years old, and my twin sister and I were meant to be flower girls at a friend's wedding. We had practiced of course, and were excited. Then came the actual event. (Unfortunately or fortunately depending on viewpoint, the following was caught on tape.) The two of us tiptoe out into the aisle, and realize that the room is FULL OF STRANGERS. Our parents are lost in the crowd, there's a scary pipe organ playing, and the minister was wearing a DRESS. (We were preschoolers: we'd never seen a minister in a robe before.) On camera, in front of everyone, I squeaked, grabbed my sister's hand and dragged her out of the room behind me. That's a "Nope!" moment.

2. Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water...

This didn't happen to me, it happened to my friend. He had taken his youth group on a beach trip, and they were all messing around in the water. Suddenly, my friend looks up and sees a dorsal fin. Not a dolphin's fin. Well, he takes a closer look, and Surprise! It's an eight foot bull shark! Of course, he called all the kids out of the water immediately, for as long as Jaws Junior was swimming around. That 's a "Nope!" moment...or as I've seen in a comment somewhere: That is a Nope fish from the Nope sea of Nope land.

3. This is how horror movies start...

Last year, my friends an I decided to take a day trip out to Hunting Island in Beaufort for a beach day. We were pretty much out in the middle of nowhere, and we needed to make a pit stop, so we pulled off on the first exit we found and went looking for a gas station. We got more than we bargained for. First of all, there were no.other.builings. 
It was just a cracked and battered stretch of road with one lonely gas station. Second, it was surrounded by dried up cornfields
. Cornfields!!! 
Third, the place was pretty much abandoned. There was one car there, and it belonged to the owner. The pumps were all shut down, there were bars and plywood boards on the windows, and (I'm not making any of this up) there were giant wasp nests hanging up...inside the store. We were debating whether or not it was actually worth the risk to use the bathroom when my older brother said, "Get back in the car. I'm gonna get murdered." I kind of stared at him, and he says, "You know how horror movies work: black guy dies first!" So we left in a hurry, giggling awkwardly about the creepy gas station from the Twilight Zone. The next one we stopped at was worse: the bathroom was outside and you had to get the keys from the smoke-filled room next door. That's a "Nope!" moment.

4. No. Just...just no.

This last summer, the same group of friends from the previous "Nope!" moment and I went up to Tybee Island in Savannah. (Found out later that it holds a record for jellyfish stings...found out after 5 or 6 out of 10 of us were stung.) We went to walk around the beautiful Savannah area for a while, just enjoying the scenery. Did you know that they do ghost tours there? And that the tour buses are actually hearses with the tops removed? We didn't until Drew said, "Why do we keep seeing that hearse everywhere we go? Is it some kind of omen?" We walked some more and found a large outdoor concert of some kind. That's when we saw her. We walked out of an ice-cream shop right into the middle of the crowd and there was an older woman dancing. And I use the word "dancing" loosely. It was...pretty sketchy. She was what some people call a "Cougar", and she was wearing clothes that would be inappropriate on a teenaged girl, let alone a woman who was probably in her fifties. Her...dancing...was calculated to catch the attention of a well-dressed fellow nearby. Our group saw her and their eyes all got super wide. The guys were like, "Let's go, let's go, let's go NOW." We got a good hundred or so feet away and stopped at a public restroom. One of the girls went in and exited wide-eyed a few minutes later. She comes over to us and whispers, "She's in there!" Not only was that lady in a cat-fight with another equally sketchy lady, she was fighting over drugs. That, my friends, is a "Nope!" moment.

So tell me: have you had any "Nope!" moments? Feel free to comment!

Although, I must ask that any stories told be kept clean: I want my family to be able to read this too :)

Doctor Who: or, The Day I didn't Pay the Reality Bill

So did you hear about the one where I sort of met a fictional character? No?

Are you sure you haven't heard the story where I saw the Doctor?

If you ask me, "Doctor Who?" I'm just going to smile and nod, m'kay?

In one of the many events that seemingly prove that the life of my family does not exactly take place in reality, we found ourselves staring at a figure who was not only supposed to be fictional, but supposed to be fictional and in England! Or outer space, or the past, take your pick.

There we were, minding our own business 

Driving along in the truck on the way home from what we like to call, "Ladies Day Out" (involving lunch and shopping.) suddenly my mom starts and says, "Look out the window!" So my sister and I look and at first all we see is a battered, dark green vehicle of indiscriminate make and model. Clearly, it had seen better days. Then I noticed the driver.

This is the part where my brothers would start singing the "Doctor Who" theme: DooWEEEEEdooooooo!

There was a young man in the driver's seat wearing a brown tweed coat and a cowboy hat pulled low over his floppy brown hair. We couldn't see his face, but we could see what he was holding in his hand: a sonic screwdriver. Not one of the plastic ones, either. This looked like one of the more expensive models. He had it fully extended and was staring at it in consternation, which was somewhat worrying as he was simultaneously driving. 

My first response: there aren't any fan conventions going on that I know of, and it's nowhere near Halloween!

My second response: Wait. What's the Doctor doing in America?!

See, folks? This is what happens when you forget to pay the reality bill: life gets all weird.

The Nickname

I have no idea how this happened.

I mean, I've had nicknames before, but this is weird even by previous standards.

When I was younger, I loved movie trivia. I used to know all kinds of behind-the-scenes information on Lord of the Rings, or Star Wars, or things of that nature. So my sister nicknamed me Trivia, or sometimes Triv. It was cute, and I liked that nickname, for a while. Then sometimes I would pop up with a little fact during a movie, because the scene brought it to mind, but everyone else would be trying to watch. Sometimes, they'd say things like, "Ok, Trivia." And suddenly, my nickname wasn't fun anymore. 

Other nicknames I've had that I didn't like so much? Twin. Ok, yes, I can see quite well that I am a twin, but it would be very nice if you'd take the time to get to know me so that you can use my actual name! 

But you didn't come here for tales of angst from years ago. (Actually, you might have. I have no idea why people have been coming to this blog, particularly the ones from some place called "vampirestats.com". No clue what that is.)

This is not the story of the Trivia nickname. This is weirder.

I was with a bunch of other people, helping a friend move out of her apartment. We had nearly cleared everything out, and she had a pile of free stuff that she didn't want anymore. That's when I saw it: a polished walking stick with a sort-of leather wrist strap. I grabbed that thing and carried it with me for the rest of our time there. I continuously had it either over my shoulders, or was leaning on it.

As we were all relaxing after emptying the apartment, we started a rambling conversation with one of the guys there whose name I cannot remember for the life of me. Someone else comes in and the guy starts introducing my sisters and I. When he comes to me, he stops, and says

"You. I can't remember your name, but from now on, I'm calling you Dresden."

Me: "Well, alrighty then. I guess I've had worse nicknames." 

I found out later that he was comparing me to a book character called Harry Dresden from something called "The Dresden Files". Evidently it was also briefly a television series. And apparently the guy carried a staff around the way I did. 

And that's how I got my weirdest nickname ever.

The Origins of Apparently Unexpected

Getting upset at someone can really show you a side to yourself you hadn't seen before.

In my case, I found out that evidently when I'm mad, I turn into a 30-something year old black lady.

Let me explain: no, there is too much. Let me sum up.

I work at a very nice office with my mother and sister, and my co-workers are all women, whom I love to death. (Not literally to death, that would be problematic.) A good third of the ladies I work with are African American, and I'm around them so often that I have started to pick up their mannerisms without knowing it. 

They didn't know it either, if the startled look on the one lady's face is anything to go by.

Let me just remind you for a minute who I am, so that the weirdness of this moment will make more sense:

I'm a skinny little white girl who looks like she belongs in the 1940s with Agatha Christie.

So what had happened was this:

A discussion came up between my mother (who works at the same office) and another lady about someone who was coming in who 1. didn't need to be coming to the office in the first place, 2. Was a Creeper.

Yes, a Creeper. He would evidently hit on every. lady. there.

Thankfully, I was never there when he wandered in.

Not-so-thankfully, I found out that not only did the guy hit on every woman there, he made up creepy nicknames for them all.

Back up, whoa. No.

1. You do not go creepin' around my workplace.

2. You do not creep on my Mama and sister, as you hope to live! 

And suddenly I was somebody completely different.

I don't really know what happened. I just know that suddenly I had my hands on my hips and my head cocked to the side and I was snarling, "Oh no he di'n't!" 

(Yes. I really said that. Oh wait, it gets stranger.)

My mom and co-worker turn around in their chairs to look at me in surprise, but by that point I was so upset by the idea of a creeper coming in where my family members were that I kept going.

I crossed my arms and glared and said (in the same Southern accent as my co-workers, go figure), "Oh he better not try anything while I'm here, or I'mma pop 'im in the throat!"

Dead silence.

Suddenly I realize what I just said and how it sounded and I burst out laughing at myself. My co-worker stared for a few more seconds and said, "I did not expect that to come out of her mouth."

So...yeah! That's one of the reasons I call my blog "Apparently Unexpected".

Thanksgiving in Virginia

Thanksgiving can be a crazy time for anyone. Just ask my family...all six or seven branches on my dad's side.

I wouldn't trade it for the world, but it can get a little nuts sometimes. Last Thanksgiving that I was there, we had (and I counted) 26 people under one roof, in two rooms...and that was about half of the whole family. 

So if the whole family from Dad's side was there, that would make one grandfather, one great-aunt, my parents, give or take six uncles, six or seven aunts, about ten or eleven guy cousins,(in-laws are included) and maybe ten girl cousins. Then there's the babies, which currently number some four and a half (half being the ones that aren't born yet). And that's not counting myself and my sisters.

That's a lot of people.

That's a lot of awesome.

Last Thanksgiving, I woke up mid-morning and the whole house smelled like pie. When I went downstairs, there were already about six people in the kitchen running here and there. I went outside with my younger cousin, Ally, to get some fresh air. 

Nope.

Outside, in the chilly mountain air, one of my eldest cousins was standing with his lovely fiance (now wife) gutting a deer. That he'd shot that morning. That we ate with the turkey that night.

And it was perfectly normal!

I walk outside with my thirteen year old cousin to hear a man singing the Green Dragon song from Return of the King whilst skinning this animal he'd killed himself. Honestly, I thought it'd be a lot grosser to gut a deer, but he'd already taken the innards out, so it wasn't that bad. Ally and I spent a while helping clean it.

If that wasn't proof they were living in the Woods, how about this:

They had a mountain lion roaming the area: we cousins weren't supposed to go outside at night alone. As he's pulling the hide off what would later be dinner, my cousin starts talking to the woods: "Well, hello there, Mr. Mountain Lion. I know you're out there, probably watching us. This is my deer, but I know you're just going to get into the messy stuff I left behind anyway, so I'll pretend I left it there for you. Please don't eat my family."

Dinner that night consisted of Chaos, Love, Awesome Food, and six or seven girls all singing "The Girl Named Tennessee" over the table.

I love my family.