Getting To Know You

It's been awhile since I participated in a blog hop, and because of another author, I stumbled across the Getting To Know You blog hop, and I figured why not?

Getting To Know You Blog Hop

How do you remember your first kiss?

I was a little bit of what you'd call a mouth-slut as a small child. I chased boys on the playground, and if I caught them, their punishment was usually a kiss. When riding the bus home, I'd kiss boys under the seat. However, they were always pecks on the cheek (well, typically. I think in second or third grade, I graduated to lip kisses.)

As I got older, we began playing more intense rounds of Truth or Dare. I can't remember if I got dared, or if he got dared, but either way, we were dared to ::GASP:: french kiss! Soon enough, his mouth was on mine, and his tongue felt like licking a slug. We jerked away, and promptly went to the bathroom to brush our teeth and get each other's tastes out of our mouths. 

I waited a few years before trying again.

What was your first favorite love song?

Oh, wow. This is a hard one. I've always been surrounded by music, and I've always gone around liking and unliking songs. It's hard to remember my first (perhaps, Damn, I wish I was your lover? Because I got to sing the word "Damn" without getting in trouble?).

What's the first thing you do when you begin writing for the day?

Probably clean or organize something to avoid writing. Play on facebook, gmail. twitter pet the dogs, realize Baxter's ears need cleaned. When I sit down to write, I avoid it for at least another hour.

Who's the first writer who truly inspired you to become a writer?

Kerry Cohen and Zu Vincent, I think. I met them both at AWP. Kerry is the author of Loose Girl, and she is just so brave, and blunt, and amazing. She's not afraid of the mistakes she's made in her life. I was humbled just being in the room with her.
Zu (author of The Lucky Place) on the other hand has helped guide me through this crazy process. She read a few pages of a manuscript and told me to keep pressing on.

I know there have been TONS of other writers who have influenced and helped me, but those two rocked my world.

Did the final revision of your first book have the same first chapter it started with?

No way in hell. God, my first chapter was AWFUL. So bad in fact, I asked my sister to read/edit it for me, she got three pages in and emailed me saying, "Please, please don't make me read any more of this."

For your first book, which came first: major characters, plot, or setting?

Setting, I think. Sometime in the future. Then the main character, and the love interest. He was always there.

What's the first word you want to roll off the tip of someone's tongue when they think of your writing?

Epic.

  

Signs A Person Is Broke

In light of Baxter getting sick, and my current eye infection/almost blindness, my typically low funds have plummeted to couch digging to afford the raemen noodles. While I was at work today, Damien stopped in so he could pick up my eye drop prescription. I handed him my credit card and said, "This may get rejected, but still, try it first. If it does, here's my debit card."

After he left, I started thinking. Plus, you guys know how much I love making lists, SO, with no further rambling, here is a quick list of

Signs that a Person is Broke:

*They pay their bill with more than one form of payment
You know that person who says, "Okay, I'd like to pay $1.88 in cash, and then $2 on this card, and $15.78 on this card"? Well, chances are there's not much on either card. And the cash they're paying with was probably a loan from a friend or from returning bottles for five cents.

*Their items at the store consist of...
A bag of dog food. Only.

Yep. This was my car. On the way to work :)

*Gas Light
Yea...that's been on for the last twenty miles. I think I have another twenty in me.

*At the gas station, their car is sitting beside a gas pump.
While the owner is inside, crying, shaking a credit card in front of them.
Chances are this person could use some help. (Lord knows I've been this person and kind strangers have helped me get home!)

*Bills
Oh, that was supposed to be paid two weeks ago? And my car needs registered? And my licence, too? Yea..well...this 18 pack of beer is only $10.

*Bottle Return
In Michigan and Maine, there are lovely things called Bottle Deposits. In Maine you get at least five cents for just about any bottle you can find; water, soda, orange juice, etc. In Michigan, it's soda and beer. AND it's TEN cents! Poor people collect bottles from friends. Desperate people collect bottles from the trash.

From Baxter's yard sale. We raised almost $400!

*Yard Sales
Oh, this old thing? I've had it forever. (I bought it yesterday.) It was just collecting dust. (I really wanted it.) I never used it. (I used it every day.) Oh, you'll pay $2? (It's worth at least $70, but I'm desperate!)

*Neglecting Health
A lot of people aren't insured, which means when they get sick, they tough it out. They go into work hacking, get their fellow employees sick, and continue on. If their eye gets infected for over a month, they'll pass it off and say, "It'll heal." Or if they fall in a snowboarding accident and crack their head, they won't get their concussion looked at by a professional. 

So there you have it, a small list of things we broke people do. You can spot us a mile away. But just because we're broke doesn't mean we aren't working toward bigger and better things!

People Watching

When you're in a big group of people,
it's easier to be invisible.
Great for watching.

I've spent a lot of time sitting off to the side and watching the way people interact. I can tell you if a girl is interested in someone, if a boy is interested in someone, who's a jerk, and who isn't. (Most of the time. Sometimes, if I've had a few beers, my super powers become fuzzy.)

If you look for small gestures, a woman placing a hand over her stomach. It's not always indicative of pregnancy, it can also signal insecurity, an eating disorder, or something else. If you look for someone playing with their phone, it can also mean more than just getting a text.

I can also read people from the way they talk. It's a little easier with people I interact with on a daily basis. In example, I once called a friend, said hello, and she simply said, "Hey."

But there was a catch in her voice and I heard it. As soon as I asked if she was okay, she burst into tears and said, "I was trying so hard not to let anyone know."

Being able to people watch and read their interactions and tone of voice helps with writing, I think. So if you feel blocked, or if you can't quite get interactions right, go to a mall. Sit on a bench and bring a notebook. Look for couples. Look for friends. Look for kids who are upset with their parents. See how they act. Try to eavesdrop on what they say.

R is for Real Birthday Fun

Quest accomplished. Sort of.

He's all, "Adventure! Freedom!"

We left a half hour later than we meant to. Baxter piled in the backseat, the boy and I drove around Portland, Maine but failed to find the Planned Parenthood to hold signs of support. Time was ticking, so we gave up and made our way to the tattoo parlour.

I walked in, and one of the guys said, "What can I do for you?"

Me and the artist

"I want a tattoo of my dog's paw print. He's in the car. How do we do this?"

He took out a stamp pad. The boy and I looked at the stamp pad and laughed. "He's a little bigger than that."

After shooting ideas back and forth, we determined Baxter would be brought in. With a gloved hand, the artist lifted Bax's paw, rubbed the disassembled pad all over his paw, then placed it on a piece of paper. The entire time, Baxter's tail was wagging.

The artist outlined the paw, sought my approval, and began work. I may have crushed the boy's hand (I forgot how much these things hurt).

In the end, I love the end result:

Even his paw print is adorable!

We finished out the day meeting people who are trying to change the world (and are fully prepared to go to jail for their cause, count me in!), then at the mall, with my good friend, Liz for dinner, and my partner and crime for celebration and pool. (The boy and I won both times).

A wonderful end to a wonderful day

Moral of the story is, for those of you who don't like your birthday because you're "getting old", please just don't forget to celebrate. Even if it's something small like buying yourself a new hat, or getting a tattoo of your dog's paw print, take time out for yourself. What better way to celebrate yourself?

Q is for Quest

That's right, his paw
is as big as my foot
(pretty much)

And on this day, April 19, a million years ago, I was born into this world.

And on this day, April 19, 2013, Baxter, the boy, and I go on a day long quest and adventure! (If you're wondering what the difference between a quest and an adventure is, it's simple: an adventure is spur of the moment, anything can happen fun fest! A quest has a mission to accomplish! We're doing a bit of both!)

 First, to Portland, Maine where we will hold signs supporting Planned Parenthood for the work they do. From there, I have a meeting in a coffee shop with an organization (eek!).

Then, the biggest dragon of the quest:

Getting a Baxter paw print tattoo.

Originally, the plan was to get it on the top of my foot. But then I started thinking: 1) Baxter's paw is HUGE 2) I hate feet 3) I never wear flip flops. 4) No one would see my Baxter tattoo. 5) I would only see it when I showered.

PASS!

Therefore, the location has changed to my calf. Less bony. More visible. Less feet-y. More Baxter-y :)

P is for Power Kites

Enough people don't fly kites anymore. It's a lost art that truly can make you happy.

When we lived on the Outer Banks of North Carolina, Laura became obsessed with Power Kites after learning how to Kiteboard. Meanwhile, I was frustrated, and angry, and cranky. The kite had picked me up, and shoved me face first under the water. It hurt, I was coughing and snotting up water, and getting stung by jelly-fish. I was not impressed.

But, because Laura liked to fly her kite at Jockey's Ridge State Park, Baxter and I joined her.

Yea....she was yelling,
"Baxter, I'm gonna kick you in the face!"

I thought Baxter was bad with other animals. Put a Power Kite in front of him and he'll run until he gives himself heat exhaustion and gets sick. He'll be puking, and still trying to chase the kite. (Not exaggerating.) He'll run into YOU if you're not looking where he's at. He will run at the kite and put holes in it.

He is so crazy about Power Kites, that for his 5th birthday, I bought him his own $500 kite just so Laura wouldn't kick him in the face like she'd threatened to.

Since moving to Maine, I haven't found a good place to fly, but you better believe, every time it gets windy, both Baxter and I are itching to get out there.

C is for Cats and Dogs

My good friend's cat and Baxter

I know I gush about how perfect and how smart Baxter is. Most of the time he is. But while I can leave whole pizzas in front of him and walk away, or uneaten tacos, my adorable pup has on weakness: Other Animals. Cats, Dogs, Raccoons ..it doesn't matter, he loves them all and wants to play with them.

We've had instances where we've gone long boarding and a neighbor-dog who is unleashed decides to try to attack the unsuspecting Baxter. I've had Baxter sans leash, and he's come home with scratch marks across his face from the big dark animal he decided to chase for a half mile while I'm running behind him and screaming for him to "Get back here!"

There is no reasoning with him when there is another animal life form around. While the center of his universe usually focuses on me, when there is a meow across the street, or a person walking their dog...I cease to exist in Baxter world. In North Carolina while I was visiting a friend, Baxter saw a small dog across the street, began to run, smashed straight into my legs. It was like a movie, my legs flew over my head, and I pretty much landed on my neck hard enough to knock the wind out of me. I wanted to murder him.

Remember that time the old man exposed himself to me and I got him arrested? Where was Baxter, you

This was his friend he abandoned me for

wonder? Playing with his friend. Then there was that time we moved into the last sketchy place and within the first two days, Baxter managed to tree their cat (I should have known then it'd be trouble).

I love my dog. Really, I do. But sometimes, he's such an idiot, I just want to knock some sense into him. Thankfully, usually after I regain control of the little butthead, I'm able to send him to Time Out, but I feel like that's a post for another day :)

On Greatness

Me being a fearless instructor :)

On Friday I talked about the fear of What If? and since then it's been going through my head. On Wednesday, I watched Chasing Mavericks about a 16 year old boy who wanted to surf 25-30 ft waves. It blew my mind (really, go watch it).

It made me think, so here are my deep thoughts to pull you through the weekend:

Some people are born with greatness in them; they can push themselves and know that THIS is why they're put on the earth. They don't give up, heck, they may not even have to try all that hard. Then there are those of us who aspire to greatness. We have to try a bit harder because we get rejected more. Have you ever heard of how Madonna got her big break? If you haven't, look it up. She wasn't born with greatness, she pushed herself into it.

Then there are those of us who settle at dead end jobs, have the world eat our souls, and give up.

Don't give up. Don't let the fear of What If stop you. You are great, and you can become great if you keep pushing.

With that said, the A to Z Challenge starts Monday. I signed up for mine to be "personal" but really, it's going to be all about Baxter. Stayed tuned for some adorableness.

Shamrock Shakes

I have an addiction. It costs money, it's unhealthy, and if my needs are not met, I turn into a freak of nature.

A few years back, I was jonesin real bad for a shamrock shake. Laura and I had gone in SEVERAL times for one and they kept giving the same answer, "They should be here Friday" "They should be here in a few days" etc. We waited, we were patient. Finally, one day I'd had an awful day, and we strolled over to McDonald's.

"I'd like a large shamrock shake, please," I said, calmly placing my order and waiting the minty goodness that I'd been longing for.

"I'm sorry, we don't have them in yet."

I snapped. "Are you f#$ing kidding me?!"

From there it went downhill. I yelled, I screamed, Laura shoved me out the glass double doors saying, "I promise, she's not always like this! I'm sorry."

Though St. Patties Day was yesterday, I hear my McDonald's is already out of the beloved shakes. I died inside a little.

Until we meet again, friend. Until we meet again.

Plastic Bags and Sea Turtles

In a past life, I was a sea turtle. I swam in the oceans, and ate crabs and squid, and whatever else I could get my hands on.

This wasn't me. This was a turtle I got to work with at the Marine Animal Rehabilitation Center

Then one day as I was swimming along, something white swam in front of me. With all the muscle I had in my flippers, I pushed hard, and ate it. But it stuck, in my throat. I tried, and tried, and tried to expel this squid, but it wouldn't go. I tried to swim for the surface for air, but whatever was in my throat didn't let me.

And I died, a slow and painful death.

You know how there's a big push for you to use reusable bags? This is why. That white thing that was floating in front of me was a plastic bag from your local super market. They take forever to degrade, and if you live in a coastal state, most times they float into the ocean.

Sea turtles are already endangered. They mistake plastic bags for jellies, squid, other swimmy things that can be eaten. They can't spit them out, and they choke.

Consider this the next time you shop. Try reusable bags, or try no bag at all. It may save my past life's family.

Trapped in a Wormhole

Laura Eno, Luanne Smith, and Stephen Tremp put together this here National Wormhole Day blog hop posing the question, What would you do/where would you go if you could go through a wormhole, just once? (Answer in 100 words or less)

First off, I'd make sure Baxter could come. He doesn't like getting left behind. Secondly, we'd go adventuring off to the past. Probably high school. We'd sit back, and he'd get to meet some of my friends who passed away, and I'd get some refreshers for the gaps in my memory for my memoir.

What about you guys? Would you try to sneak anyone into the wormhole with you?

New Friends

New friends last season
Good friends this season

Last season, I was in the middle of a lesson when I looked over and there was this thug looking guy (Mat) teaching this tiny little girl (Becca) how to snowboard. My lesson came back for the next few days, and the Mat and Becca came back. By the end of the week, we all exchanged Facebook information and became friends.

Then Mat, Becca, and a few of their friends came to the mountain just after I'd returned to Maine from Lyn's funeral. I was a mess, I'd been away from the mountain for two weeks, I'd seen the boy I'd dated for five years...and I just felt broken and hollow. But I took the day off work, and we all rode. Slowly the pieces came back together. I dubbed it mountain therapy.

This year, the Mat came back with another friend who'd come for that Mountain Therapy trip. I drove up, slept on their hotel floor and couldn't believe how great it was to be around these guys. I felt energized, bold...and best of all, happy.

So your mission then, is to be open to new people. Even if they look like thugs, or hooligans, or whatever. Sometimes it can re-inspire you more than a new pen. Plus sometimes they make fun new characters (these guys are obsessed with reggae).
I'm thankful that I met these people.

2-4, me, Mat
My new friends :)

Valentine's Day

I am an inadequate girlfriend. In prior years, I've had boys tell me the day before V-Day that they cheated on me...six months ago. This year, I figure hey, I'm in a healthy happy relationship so...try to do it right, right?

Plan one was to eat dog food. Well, Jen's car blew up (not literally) but it turned out that she lives in the middle of nowhere, so the Dog Food Challenge has been rescheduled. Damien and I spent the night eating Subway and watching The Perks of Being a Wallflower...

The following day, because I'm poor and classy, and Valentine's gifts were 50% off, I finally manned up and bought some presents. He picked me up from work, drove me home, and a few minutes later we exchanged gifts.

He opened a very obnoxiously large card (it had an adorable bear on the front), discovered a hot pink heart full of candies that on the front read, Princess, (I call him Princess because it's funny) and another smaller heart full of Reeses (because he likes them).

And then he handed me a large box and said, "It's kind of wrapped awkwardly. Sorry."

I opened the box. In the box was sweatpants...wrapped around something. I removed them, and low and behold, it's The Hunger Games trilogy. I about peed my pants. (Seriously. He then asked if he could read them...and because I'm pretty anal about my books, I encouraged going to the library.)

His Present......My Present

Moral of this story is that I'm a terrible girlfriend. Then I proceeded to ask him if I could borrow $10 for lunch money this week...

Happy Monday.

Dog Food Challenge 2013: Eaters Four And Five

Welcome to the 2013 Dog Food Challenge.

Earlier in January, I posted some information about the 2013 Dog Food Challenge. Basically, I have four people and myself. On Valentine's Day (because we hate V-Day) we're going to circle up, and delve in to some canned dog food. Some of us for research. Some because it's also a fundraiser...(we're each aiming to raise at least $10 to donate to the local animal shelter, we'll see if that actually happens) and some well... I guess we'll find out why they're doing it. 

You've met Jen and Marlene, and Billy. Today, you'll meet the last two contenders:

Damien and Me :)

One fancy day at the pharmacy a cute boy walked in. I talked some snowboarding, he dropped his number and ran out the door. A month or so later, we were dating and I asked if he'd want to eat some dog food. He said yes. Huray!

And well, I'm the last one. Stay tuned. The eating is tomorrow :) (Hoping to be able to do some video)

Dog Food Challenge 2013: Eater Three

Welcome to the 2013 Dog Food Challenge.

Earlier in January, I posted some information about the 2013 Dog Food Challenge. Basically, I have four people and myself. On Valentine's Day (because we hate V-Day) we're going to circle up, and delve in to some canned dog food. Some of us for research. Some because it's also a fundraiser...(we're each aiming to raise at least $10 to donate to the local animal shelter, we'll see if that actually happens) and some well... I guess we'll find out why they're doing it. 

You've met Jen and Marlene, and today, you'll meet Billy (the man, the legend).

I met Billy a few months back at the road race. He was a friend of the Partner in Crime and it turns out that he also snowboards. After a few rounds of hanging out, I decided to ask him, 'Hey, do you want to eat some dog food with us?'

He asked why, and I explained about the fundraiser and the research and he jumped on board.

Stay tuned to meet the last two contestants (though you already know me, so really there's only one more :) )

Dog Food Challenge 2013: Eater Two

Welcome to the 2013 Dog Food Challenge.

Earlier in January, I posted some information about the 2013 Dog Food Challenge. Basically, I have four people and myself. On Valentine's Day (because we hate V-Day) we're going to circle up, and delve in to some canned dog food. Some of us for research. Some because it's also a fundraiser...(we're each aiming to raise at least $10 to donate to the local animal shelter) and some well... I guess we'll find out why they're doing it.

Marlene and Patrick.
Love at first sight.

This is my good friend Marlene. A few months ago I approached her at work and asked, "Hey, that novel I was talking about...the chick has to eat dog food...and it's more fun to do dumb things with friends so want to eat dog food with me?"

She squirmed. Looked uncomfortable. Then, after some pressuring we stood in the pharmacy and took a small bite out of a dog biscuit. Now, after more pressuring and the idea that it's a fundraiser, she's on board.

Stay tuned to find out who the other contenders are :)

Dog Food Challenge 2013: Eater One

Welcome to the 2013 Dog Food Challenge.

About a week ago, I posted some information about the 2013 Dog Food Challenge. Basically, I have four people and myself. On Valentine's Day (because we hate V-Day) we're going to circle up, and delve in to some canned dog food. Some of us for research. Some because it's also a fundraiser...(we're each aiming to raise at least $10 to donate to the local animal shelter) and some well... I guess we'll find out why they're doing it.

She looks super fancy

This is my friend (and co worker) Jen. She's super fun to work with, and slowly but surely, I'm getting her into couponing, which is stellar (and saves lots of money).

When asked why she agreed to eat some canned dog food she said, "I don't know. I feel like it's interesting, like something I wouldn't normally do...ever."

For the record, she's the only one who didn't take some substantial pressuring to get her to agree to the challenge.

Stay tuned to find out who the other contenders are :)

Happy Birthday

My sister and meeee :)

In case you were unaware, I have the best sister, ever. She sends me stuff in the mail, and loans me money when I'm real broke, and visits the state of Maine on my 21st birthday to help babysit me. She's supported me through ups, and severe downs. She called me while I was in the psych ward, and sends me nice letters when my best friend's death anniversary approaches.

And on this day, January 25, 27 years ago, one of my best friends was born. That's not to say it's always been bliss...there was that time I punched her in the face and gave her a blood nose. And there were those other times we went through 4-6 month spans of not speaking. But I love her.

So, Happy Birthday Laura! I hope it's awesome, even if you're 2,500 miles from me, know I'm there raging with you in spirit. (I know the distance cuz I totally just google mapped it :) )

The 2013 Dog Food Challenge

In November I undertook NaNoWriMo and popped out what's tentatively called Blackout. At a point during the novel, the main character (Jenna) has to eat canned dog food, and she talks about how awful it is...

This is Baxter.
Jenna had a BFF dog, too

But as a writer, can I really do that? Can I really write about something that I don't know about? I mean, every time I give Bax some, it smells pretty good. I've poked it a few times, and it seems okay. I read the label, and it basically sounds like the stuff hot dogs are made out of.

Thus, my brain started screaming, "You must do it! You must eat dog food to write about it accurately!" 

Still, it's more fun to do dumb things with friends.


It's even better to do dumb things with friends, and turn it into a fundraiser for a local animal shelter. With that said, here's what's going to happen in the upcoming weeks:

Icky, icky

1) I'll be posting a PayPal donation button where the NaNoWriMo one currently is. If you feel like this is a good cause, feel free to donate. If not, don't.

2) I'll do blog posts (probably one a week) of who the Dog Food Eaters are. You'll get their bio, how I know them, and ideally a fun picture. Oh, and why they agreed to do this in the first place.

3) On February 14th (as long as all jobs and commitments work out) the five of us will consume canned dog food. Ideally we'll be able to do a vlog post, so you can see the fun, too. (I don't think anyone will eat an entire can, it's more-so going to be a few bites...or vomiting. Whichever happens first.)

Welcome to the 2013 Dog Food Challenge. 

Are you ready?

Would You Sell Your Body?

The question gets asked a lot; What would you be willing to do for money? I make the joke that I'll sell my body for money, become a hooker, and work the streets. And then I realize I don't like being naked, or being touched, or you know...being tied up, or freaky, or any of that stuff, and I'm pretty sure if people are paying me for my body, they kind of get to do what they want, no? So then those plans fall apart.

Or so I thought.

The hospital was huge. And I usually got lost.

I've spent the last two weeks being a voluntary lab rat for a drug study. Why? 1) Because I don't like animal testing and I've always said there will be people dumb enough to test drugs for whatever reason. (I am that dumb person :) ) 2) They paid me $300 and I have a lot of bills to pay.

Three times, I spent about an hour getting hooked up to machines that monitored my face muscles and my galvanic responses. As she hooked electrodes up to my de-watched and de-braceleted wrists, I said rather sheepishly, "Please just ignore the cutting scars." The woman placing them on me stopped for a second and said, "Wow, you really have been through a lot, haven't you?"

When that was done, I shoved a syringe up my nose, inhaled deeply, and then got to watch Blue Planet for a half hour (it was lovely. I watched about Polar Bears and whales), and then looked at pictures and answered test questions like, "How attractive do you find this face?" "How likely would you be to approach this person?" "How approachable do you find this face?" One day I was given the placebo. One day I was given the actual drug and had some difficulty breathing/the room kind of spun. (I may have lied when they asked whether or not I have heart problems...)

After, I spent a few minutes answering a survey and then having to get blood drawn. I chatted quite a bit (making sure to sell the fact that I'm an author and that I do presentations because you never know when it'll come in handy).

Baxter takes injections/giving blood
better than I do. 

By today, I look like a heroine addict (turns out one of the days I was dehydrated and it was difficult to get blood). I had my last round of looking at pictures, though because I got no drug or placebo, I didn't have to shove anything up anywhere, or give blood.

As I put on my jacket to leave I started getting kind of sad. I'd spent several hours with the woman hooking me up to machines and poking me with needles. She told me about her family, I showed her pictures of Baxter (and told her about my screwed up family). It was strange coming to an understanding that I probably won't see this woman or the doctor ever again. They both seemed awesome and nice.

The last Tuesday I'd been there, the woman had told me, "Do you plan on having kids?" and while she didn't know about the abortion, I still cringed.

"No," I told her. "I don't want to end up like my mom."

Her voice became very serious. "I don't think you'll EVER have to worry about that. You're nothing like her."

As I drove home from work that night, I ended up crying. What if I do want kids? What if I end up like my mom? Isn't in better to just say you hate kids and that you never want them so you don't end up even potentially destroying them?

As I got up to make my final exit, she stood in front of me, fully stopping my path to freedom and said, "I'm hugging you, and I don't care whether you've showered or not." (I hadn't.) Then she wrapped both of her small around around me, and we embraced. When we parted she looked me square in the eyes and said, "You'll do great things with your life. I'm happy I met you, and I wish you nothing but the best for your future."

She walked me to the elevevator and as I stepped on, I looked back and said, "You know, when people like you give me those little speeches, it kind of reaffirms the fact that I need to become a bad ass and change the world."

I drove home smiling. I get the feeling that she doesn't say or do these things to ever lab rat in the study.