City Mouse vs. Country Mouse

I'm home.

Not home, as in, "a place to sleep" but actually H-O-M-E.

People have had a hard time understanding why I've moved back to Jackson County when I've been living in Richmond these past several months, so I thought I would try to explain.

First, there is the obvious...its cheaper. True, it will cost more as far as gas is concerned, but other than that, it is a lot cheaper to live in Gray Hawk. I don't have to pay rent and I have a home of my own (albeit a tiny little thing) that I've been trying to fix up the past several years. I have bills outside of paying my rent and because I'm moving back, I've been able to pay off three of those bills. Its a great sense of accomplishment to be able to say I'm a little closer to being debt free. So yeah, its cheaper. The distance I have to travel to work and class kinda stinks, but I can live with it. I've done it for years, so I'm pretty sure its nothing I won't be able to handle for a while longer.

There are other reasons I moved back though.

I'm a small town kinda gal, I've discovered. In all my traveling, its the smaller towns that I enjoy visiting the most and when my travels are finished, its Gray Hawk that I enjoy coming back too. Living in Richmond was nice because it was convenient. I could walk to my favorite restaurants, go shopping at all hours of the night or day, it took five minutes to get to work, and thirty minutes to get to class. It was great for those reasons...but really, those were the only reasons it was great.

I thought when I moved to Richmond I would get to see the people I care about more often. I was wrong. Everyone has such busy lives (including me) and it was hard to get everyone together. I lived literally two minutes from my Goddaughter and yet I hardly ever saw her. My life centered around work and school. The only time I was actually at the apartment was when I was sleeping. Sad but true. Sure I had a couple of parties and I shared my futon with my cousin, Kayla, but otherwise, it was pretty lonesome. I'm quite shy and quiet in person, but as a general rule, I do like being in contact with people from time to time. Living in the apartment made me feel like a hermit. Someday I'd like to be a hermit living all alone in a cabin way back in a hollow somewhere, but that day isn't anytime in my near future. 

I like living in Gray Hawk. I have a love/hate relationship with Jackson County most days. There are things I hate about my hometown. I mean, I despise some things! But on the whole, I like it here. Its home. In all my time living in Richmond, I never called it home. It was always "the apartment" and when I came back to Jackson County on the weekends, I always told folks I was "going home."

I like that when I see people out, even people I don't really know, I can say 'Howdy" and they will say it back. I like that when there is a funeral procession driving by, people stop on the side of the road out of respect and wait for it to pass. I like that people wave at you when you meet them on the road, whether you know them or not. I like that people I know ask me how my family is when they talk to me and how that people I just met can look at me and know who "my people" are just by the shape of my nose or the way I smile. I like the feeling of being connected to people when they figure out that they went to high school with one of my cousins or used to work with my Mom or whatever the case may be.

Living in a small town can suck, don't get me wrong. People gossip about everything and everyone. If someone has a grudge against you, then you will hear about it for years and years. Certain families can't get along with other families. A lot of things are "political" in nature. There isn't a wide variety of places to shop or eat or have any other form of entertainment. There are brilliant people and there are ignorant people, and most of us fall somewhere in between. But you will find all those things in a lot of other places, at least at home, I KNOW where I stand with folks. I know who to avoid and who I can trust.

I like being able to open my windows and let in a cool breeze. I like that my cats can climb trees in my front yard and that Emmie can meow as loud as she wants and no one will tell me to get rid of her. I like that I can walk for miles down my road, by myself, at night and still feel safe. And while I'm walking there will be at least half a dozen people that know me that will stop and ask if I've had car trouble and need some help. I've had it happen lots of times. I like the trees and the flowers and the birds and all the other animals. These things I've missed since I moved to Richmond.

And I like that first glimpse of my family's "homeplace" when I drive over the hill. There is no prettier place in the world than that hillside when the sun is setting. No place.



So that's why I moved back. The catalyst may have been a cantankerous lying landlord, but in the end, its because this place makes me feel happy, safe, and loved. I couldn't ask for anything better than that. 

Renter No More!

I get to move out this week! This both saddens and excites me. Its definitely mixed emotions at this point. Allow me to explain...(as if you had any other choice).

I like living in Richmond. I like being within walking distance of my favorite restaurants and my bank. I like being able to go to Wal-Mart, Kroger, and Meijer's at any point in the day. I like being five minutes from work and thirty minutes from school. I like the fact that I can run over and visit my Goddaughter whenever I feel the need and I can go home during my lunch break instead of eating out of a fast food joint. I like knowing that when it snows, I can usually make it to my own bed, rather than crashing on someone's couch. I like all these things about living in Richmond. But...that's about it. In other words, I like the convienence of it, but nothing more.

When I first moved up here I thought it was going to be sooooo much fun! I would have people stopping by all the time and maybe even have a few parties here and there. I could go shopping whenever I wanted. I could take naps during my lunch breaks. I could work out at the gym across the road. I could drive a short distance and visit Kayla and Ashlee whenever they were home. It was going to be AWESOME!!!

Guess what? It wasn't like that at all. Ashlee and Kayla are super busy with work and school and having little baby girls running around their homes. Kayla moved shortly after I did. I don't have parties. I don't take naps. I go to the gym, but I can do that regardless of where I call home. No one visits, because I'm never home. I go to work, I go to school, and I come to the apartment to sleep. That's about the long and short of it. I don't even get to shop because all my money is going to rent and utilities, so there's no moolah to spend.

This is disappointing, but I was willing to stick it out up until the "cat incident". Yeah, that's what I'm calling it now.

For those that don't know me well enough, let me explain something about myself. It takes A LOT to make me angry. In fact, I've been told that I am way too nice and laid back about things. I don't get angry enough with people. But when I do get mad about something or at someone, then that is the absolute end of it for me. I will never like that person again and that particular situation will make me miserable until I remove it from my life. Since the "cat incident" I have been miserable here in Richmond. After work, I drive around for twenty minutes to try to avoid going back to the apartment. I hate it there now...and I despise everyone that has anything to do with it.

So today, I went to talk to the landlord. I wanted out of my lease. I don't want to pay for something that I'm not using (which coincidentally is one reason why I should have never thought I could rent in the first place. I am not the type that likes paying for something that will NEVER be my own.), so I had determined I needed to get out of the lease ASAP and using any means necessary. Now I was prepared to be mean about it, but I hated to do that. Of course, there is no real nice way to tell someone "I am not going to pay you anymore. Kiss my ass." So I opted for a strategy I have seen work many, many times for other women I know. A strategy I have never used in my life and feel somewhat ashamed to have stooped to such a level. I feel its beneath me. I used...pity. Yes, yes, I swallowed my pride and used pity. "Poor little April. That nice, quiet girl next door. She just needs a break and she's having a hard time of it right now. We should all feel sorry for her. Oh...and let her out of her lease." ;-)

Well...it worked. Helps that the landlord is a man I suppose. A woman would have seen right through it. And I'm also happy to report that I did not have to resort to crocodile tears. I was prepared to do just that, but it wasn't necessary in the end.

So I'm out of my lease. I am moving out this weekend. He already has another renter lined up. And I get my deposit back. Go me!

To be continued...

2011

Well, its that time of year again. Time to make resolutions that we never keep. So in the spirit of things, here is a "rough draft" of my 2011 resolutions (in no particular order). Please join me in laughing at myself 'round about January 2nd, when I realize I'm going to have to give up on most of these.

1.) Lose weight. Yeah, I know, I know. EVERYONE has that on their list. However, I am paying a gym membership and I feel like I need to put it to better use than I have been in recent months. So, I intend to lose weight in 2011. Do I have a specific goal in mind? Yep, 'round about 100 pounds. Big sum, but doable all the same.

2.) Write more. This includes writing in my journal and working on my stories. I think with a little time management I should be able to accomplish this goal just fine. Of course, as I work on my stories, I need to also submit them to more places. No, I don't think I'm going to make tons of money by doing this, but I still feel the need to try to get my work out there. You gotta start somewhere after all.

3.) Keep my 4.0 GPA. 'Nuff said.

4.) Apply for some more scholarships. I'm on a roll with those, so I'm gonna milk it for everything its worth.

5.) Learn to budget my money better. For various reasons.

6.) Get my remaining wisdom teeth taken out. This doesn't sound like much of a resolution I'm sure. But I'm tellin' ya, if I don't write it down and make it known, I will never remember to do it.

7.) Stop biting my nails!!!!!

8.) Spend more time with my family and friends.

9.) Go sky diving!

10.) Travel to Maine. (If I can't manage that, I'll settle for another trip to New Orleans.)

That's about all. Hope you folks have a splendid 2011. Many blessings and much love.

Merry Ickimickamas

That's how Dillon used to say "Merry Christmas" when he was a tot. I thought I would share that with all ya'll.

Its been a great Christmas this year. A WHITE Christmas...finally. The first white Christmas we've had in a LONG time. That was nice, but it did put a damper on some of the festivities because folks couldn't make it out in the bad weather. We had fun all the same.

Christmas Eve was spent like it has been for several years now...at the Nunn Christmas Eve Shindig at my Aunt Ida's house. It was a nice crowd, not quite as big as it has been in the past, but a good crowd all the same. We played our usual "Chinese Gift Giving Game" (which by the way, I have no idea WHY its called that but its fun all the same). I ended up with a reusable coffee cup, which was great, because I've wanted one of those for awhile now.

Christmas morning was spent opening gifts at home. Dillon got money (which is what he wanted). I got money, books, comics, and some cooking stuff for my apartment. So pretty much everything I asked for. It helps that I got to pick most of it out ahead of time though. ;-)

With my Christmas money I bought more comic books. I made a special trip to the bookstore today with the family just to pick out some books. I was hoping for some Ron Rash novels, but couldn't find any, so I bought a couple of "Y: The Last Man" graphic novels and a Stephen King graphic novel (and yes, I had them all read before the night was over). I plan on going back to that particular bookstore soon and getting more graphic novels (because I'm obsessed like that).

Tomorrow I have to make a trip to Richmond to tend to my cats at the apartment and buy Dillon some boxing gloves.

Anyway, just a quick blog about my holiday. Of course its not what you get (or give) that's important, but it is fun. Hope ya'll had a great Christmas as well.

The Final Countdown

In two very short years, life on this planet will be drastically altered. Ancient civilizations have predicted the end of the world. Some suspect we will go the way of the dinosaur and get hit by a passing comet. Others think its high time for an alien attack. Me? I'm getting ready for zombies. (C'mon, what else would you expect of me?)

Yep, that's right folks. I've said for years "Its not a matter of IF, but a matter of WHEN" and now we know our date: December 21, 2012. Mark it down and get ready. You have roughly two years to prepare for the impending zombie apocalypse.

Don't think just because I've suspected this for years, that I'm completely ready for the legions of the "undead". (For the record, I don't think they would be really undead. Once you are dead, you stay dead. But I'm shooting for some sort of crazy infection.) No, I have some work to do. I'm saving my hording of supplies (water, food, weaponry, etc.) for next year. I don't have room for it at the moment...besides, I'll be foraging once the infected are all killed off anyway. In the meantime however, here is what I need to do in 2011 in order to prepare. If I've forgotten something, please let me know, if I can stay alive, I will help you stay alive.

1.) GET IN SHAPE.
     True, "round" is a shape, but "round" is not the shape you want to be in while a half dozen zombies are chasing you down for a little snack. No, no, I do NOT want to be round anymore when 2012 rolls around. This is why I have my gym membership. I don't have to look like a body builder, but I by doggies, will no longer be round. The trick is, I have to get slimmer, but not too skinny. I mean, I don't know where I'll be during the winters, I may need some extra padding. I do however need to be healthy enough to get away if I have to run or climb, and skinny enough that I can fit through small windows and other open spaces so I can duck and cover or hide. So 2011 will be my year to hit the gym and build up some muscle and stop being round. Remember what we've learned from "Zombieland", you must have good cardio!
2.) HAND TO HAND COMBAT SKILLS.
    Following right along with number one, I need to learn some good fighting skills. This can be accomplished any number of ways. I already know some handy dandy self defense techniques taught to me by a former cop, but I'm fairly certain zombies aren't going to be trying to kidnap and rape me (Oh horror or horrors, lets hope that is NEVER the case. As if they weren't bad enough already!). I need bad ass fighting skills. I need to learn how to properly be offensive and defensive in my hand to hand combat skills. So, 2011 will also be the year I start taking some sort of classes. Karate or whatever. Doesn't matter as long as I can kick undead booty come 2012.
3.) RUN FORREST, RUN.
     I will start running now as well. I need to build up my endurance, not just my speed. God "blessed" me with short chubby legs and clumsy feet, neither of which will ever make me a track star. However, I need to be able to run long distances at a steady pace...or short distances as fast as I can. Either one works for me. So, I'm going to invest in a good pair of shoes and officially take up running. After all, I don't have to be the fastest runner out there, I just have to be able to outrun YOU.
4.) LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION.
     As with any impending zombie attack fanatic, I have my own theories on how it will all go down. You know...what starts it all? How long it lasts? How does is spread? What "type" of zombies we will be dealing with (yes, there are types folks)? Who stands a better chance of surviving? Who will I feed to the zombies? (Yeah, I'll do it.) So, my current theory goes that it will be an infection. I'm iffy on all the details, but my train of thought runs that the infected folks will be very stupid and animal like in their actions (unfortunately I think they will be able to run fast...bummer), and therefore, they won't take very good care of themselves, which basically means, if you can survive long enough, they'll probably all die out. Now, the thing is, surviving actually has its own list of worries (as anyone that is a "Walking Dead" fan can tell you), but regardless of those, I'm just focusing on the zombies right now. I don't have time to worry about the psychopath down the road that now thinks he can do whatever he wants because there is no law in the land. Anywho...so my theory is, head North...or West. I figure if you go West there is less water and they will die out quicker. If you go North, it will freeze them out (or they'll catch colds and die or something along those lines), especially since the poo isn't going to hit the fan until December anyway. So, what I need to do is figure out where I'm going to go and how long it takes me to get there. I need to plan routes that will keep me away from major cities and clogged up roads. I plan on having a merry band of survivors with me, I don't want to risk them just to get five minutes knocked off the travel time (well, except for those I plan on using as decoys and bait for the infected...).
5.) SURVIVAL OF THE GEEKIEST.
      I need to start working on my survival skills. I love to camp. I'm a decent fisherman. I've never been hunting, but that's due to my own impatience and not so much to any moral aversion to it. So I'm not a girly girl in other words. I can make due on my own if need be. However, in a post-zombie world, there will be new things I will need to do. Like...I don't know...hot wiring a car or some such. I need to know basic survival skills for being out in the woods or in the cities. I also wouldn't mind knowing a  few basic first aid skills that I'm not really familiar with at the moment. So, 2011 will be devoted to furthering my own survival skills. Don't expect me to go all "Lord of the Flies" crazy or anything, I'm just gonna be prepared when you get frost bite after we've been hiding out from the undead walkers for a few months.

Either way, there is my list of things I intend to do in 2011 to prepare for the end of the world in 2012 (or at least the end of the world as we know it...with less people and more meat eaters). In the meantime, enjoy the photos I "borrowed" from the Internet. I hope they will help express the gravity of this situation. :-) Until 2012, remember the immortal words of Max Brooks, "Organize Before They Rise!"

Little Bart

I have a photo that I would very much like to post on this particular blog, but unfortunately won't be able too. It is of my cat, Bart a few years ago. He's in a tree in my front yard. The first tree he ever got to climb (they were inside cats remember). He climbed all the way to the top of the walnut tree where an empty bird's nest sat. So in the photo it looks like he might be thinking of getting into a little trouble with some baby birds (although no birdies were ever harmed). Its my favorite picture of Bart. Its the background of my home computer as a matter of fact. I've not had the heart to look at it just yet.

I lost my Bart this past Sunday. I'm not sure why. I mean, on some level I'm certain why it was. He was born with feline leukemia (he got it from his mother) and so his immune system was weak. About three weeks ago I noticed some small lumps under his skin and he was acting very lethargic. I know Bart isn't feeling well when he isn't constantly under my feet or in my lap wanting loved on. I took him to the vet and they couldn't decide what was wrong, other than his white blood cell count was a little high. So began three weeks of vet visits and eventually a solid week and a half of me feeding him baby food and chicken broth through an eyedropper because he stopped eating.

At the last vet visit (the Tuesday before he passed) he still wasn't feeling well, but he was better. He had gained weight and was more energetic and strong, but things got progressively worse from there.

I brought him home to Gray Hawk on Friday so I could keep an eye on him and because, I hoped, a little fresh air would do him good and stimulate his appetite. When we got home he was back to his old self for the first night. He still wasn't eating and he was still pretty puney acting, but he was loving on everyone like he usually does. He even got to go outside Saturday and walk around the yard a bit (no climbing trees though). Saturday night he took a turn for the worst and in my heart I knew what was happening.  I have had a steady supply of various critters as pets through the years...I know what death looks like.

Throughout the night and Sunday morning he couldn't keep anything down. He kept going to the bathroom and puking. He hid from me. He slept on my stomach for a little while Saturday night, but soon tired of that and just wanted to be left alone. By Sunday afternoon he had passed away.

What I'm most thankful for, is that he was home when he passed. Not in Richmond. Although he liked the apartment, it wasn't his home and he knew that. Home was always Nunn Road for him. A part of me believes that the reason he hang on for those three weeks is because he was waiting for me to bring him home. It seems logical to me anyway. Why else would he seem to be getting better, but within a day and a half of bringing him back to the homeplace, he passed away? Maybe its wishful thinking on my part that animals would be that smart, but I still choose to believe it. I've always been one to pay particular attention to things happening in nature and the behavior of animals, so I believe that is possible that Bart was indeed just waiting for a chance to come back to where he was raised so he could say goodbye to everyone he loved and be where he loved one last time. If people can do that, why not animals?

I'll miss Bart. Miss him terribly. I always said that my cat (Bart's sister), Poop, was "my" cat and Bart was "Dillon's cat", because Bart loved Dillon so very much. Dillon used to go get Bart from the little house my cats stayed in and sneak him over to Mom and Dad's so he could keep him in his bedroom and play with him. Back in the day, when I used to bath Bart and his siblings as kittens, Dillon would always get little wet Bart and wrap him up in a towel, take him to the bedroom, and let him sleep on his belly under the covers until he fell asleep. Bart has loved Dillon ever since. Sometimes I think Bart loved Dillon more than he loved me...and I was his Mother. :-)

Bart was in the litter of kittens I brought home from the dairy farm when their real mother abandoned them. I raised them from the time they were two weeks old. I fed them with bottles, bathed them, stimulated them to use the bathroom even, and when they were old enough I weened them and then raised them so that they "never wanted for anything" (as my Mom put it while she was comforting me after Bart's death). Last December (right before Christmas) I lost Poop to pnuemonia. All the kittens in that litter had feline leukemia, so Poop caught a cold and couldn't fight it off and she couldn't be made healthy with medicine, so I lost her first. In May, I lost Oliver to a spider bite. He wasn't a part of that litter, but I raised him with them from the time he was three months old. And now I've lost my Bart, right before Thanksgiving.

I have Emmie left. She was the runt of the litter. She has a BIG mouth and she likes to use it. She has chronic respitory problems but she survived the spider bite from this summer and she's survived multiple emergency trips to the vet for breathing problems and colds. She's a fighter. I feel sorry for Emmie. When I would let the cats outside to play on pretty days, if the other cats ran off to where she couldn't see them, she would let out panicked yells until I went to her so she could see she wasn't outside alone. Emmie does NOT like to be by herself. Emmie and Poop were great friends. They did everything together. They were as insync as to cat sisters could be. Oliver was Emmie's boyfriend (or at least that is what I called him). Oliver didn't like anybody, but he loved Emmie. They shared a bed and cuddled up next to each other every night. And after the other two were gone, Emmie and Bart were together and kept each other company. Luckily, I unintentionally ended up with a little kitten not long ago. Her name is Church and she thinks Emmie is her new Mommy. They cuddle together like Ollie and Emmie did, play together like Poop and Em, and Emmie won't be alone at the apartment now that Bart is gone. I'm thankful for that as well. I knew Emmie wouldn't like being my only furry child and although that wasn't my intention when Church came home with me (Bart was very much alive and well when I first brought Church home), I'm glad Church is there for Emmie all the same.

I told Mom after we buried Bart in my makeshift pet cemetery on a little hill beside my house, that it would do me good not to ever have another pet in my life. I can come across as being a bit mean and bitter. I'm standoffish on most things and sometimes I seem a bit heartless because I'm pretty blunt about things. However, for those that know me well enough, I'm terribly sensitive and easily heartbroken...especially when it comes to animals. When I was a tot, I watched "Where the Red Fern Grows" for the first time and cried and cried. People in the family still talk about that. Its a sad movie but I don't think anyone had seen a reaction quite so heartbreaking as mine up until that point. I cry when I read "Old Yeller" (which I do fairly often) or "The Yearling". And don't even get me started on when I went to the theater to watch "Marley & Me." That was a mistake and a half. I don't cry at movies. No matter how sad they are. Especially not in public. By the end of that movie I was wiping tears and snot off my chin from crying so hard. Maybe you aren't supposed to question God's intentions, but if there is one thing I get terribly frustrated at Him over, its the fact that He doesn't make it so that our animals get to live as long as us. Its unfair.

Regardless, I didn't want to let Bart pass away without a blog in his honor. I will miss him constantly being under my feet to the point I can't walk or get out my front door. I will miss him clawing my back trying to climb up it everytime I bend over. I will miss not being able to sit down without him climbing on my head and biting and clawing my hair (he was my little hairdresser). I will miss rubbing his belly and scratching under his chin. And I will miss him sleeping on my stomach at night. I'll even miss having to grab a ladder when he climbs too high in the trees, so I can get him safely down. He would never climb out of a tall tree unless I was under him with my arms out, telling him I would catch him if he would only get close enough for me to reach.

I am one heartbroken cat mom.

So here's to you, little Pumba Bart Fart Nunn (aka Barticus, Sir Barticus Farticus, & Bartikins), may you rest in peace and always know that your Mommy loved you.

Scarefest 2010

No blog can do justice to my love of Scarefest.

I consider this to be my first experience, although I was there last year. I don't really remember anything from 2009 though because the day before Scarefest, I was in an accident that totaled my beloved Cherry Darling and jumbled my already slightly stupid brain into such a tizzy that I was doped up on meds through the entire Scarefest of 2009. (I had to be lead around. Literally.)

So this year was my "first" year at Scarefest and I loved it!

I'm completely exhausted and pretty sure that I will be good and sick for my presentation Monday morning, but it was worth it.

I love how fans come dressed in zombie and monster getups and how folks will willingly take photos with you (although I didn't really get a lot because I was too busy looking at all the booths). I love the horror guests most of all, but those booths are the ones that fill up the fastest and I hate standing in line and waiting for anything.

I did stand in line for George Romero though. :-) How could I not?! The line backed all the way out the door and into the street, but I stood there anyway. There were DVDs for sale (movies he had written and/or directed), t-shirts, bags, and tons of posters. They were all high though. I settled for a poster of the original "Night of the Living Dead" and had him sign it for me. It says " April, Stay Scared. George Romero". He was due to pose for pictures later in the evening but those were another forty bucks, and I had decided to limit myself on what I would spend today, so I was a good girl and refrained from the photo op. Next time, George. Next time. I did get to shake his hand though. Twice! I could have pounced across the table for a hug, but I was afraid security would kick me out. So I held in my excitement as much as possible. He is my zombie king after all. What would you expect me to do?

We didn't get to visit any of the other celebrity booths because they had super long lines and super high prices for photos and autographs. Betty was sneakier than me though and managed a couple of photos of Danny Trejo (I'll post those as soon as I can), but otherwise no good celebrity shots from me. Maybe next year. Back to Mr. Trejo though...I was expecting this super tall massive man. For some reason, in all his movies he looks like one bad a$$ tall dude. In reality he's about 5 "6 at best. I almost swallowed my gum when he stood up. I thought he'd go at least an even six feet, but he wasn't much taller than me. Go figure.

We checked out booths, took some breaks from the festivities, and after several hours there (and too much money spent) we left and headed to Johnny Corrino's for some grub. This was my first time eating there...or so I thought. Apparently, that is where we ate last year, but I just don't remember. I also apparently got mad at Mom last year when we were there because she didn't get up quick enough to go to the bathroom with me (yes, I was so incapacitated that I needed help finding the bathroom). I am a cranky person when I feel bad. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Regardless, today was a good day. When I got back to the apartment for a brief pitstop to check on my cat, he actually got off the bed and ate some canned chicken, drank some water, and drank all the "juice" from the can of chicken and even wanted more. I was super pleased with this. The new kitten however (who is litter box trained mind you) decided to go into my bathroom and pee in the floor. She waited until I got there so I would for sure see her. She has a bit of an attitude I have discovered. I played in the floor with the cats, then took Mom to Wal-Mart, and now I'm back home in JC for the night.

No homework accomplished today and I'm abso-freakin-lutely KILLED but otherwise, it was a much more positive than negative day...and that makes me happy. :-)

Can't wait for Scarefest 2011!!!! (Oh, and the Supernatural convention next Spring in Nashville. I'll be there too! ;-) )