Avoiding the Cliff

Disclaimer: As you remember, I had to be reminded that I'm pretty quick because normally I assume I'm the dumbest person in the room. Yep, I tend to see, analyze and solve problems before most people figure out there actually is a problem to begin with; and as I was being reminded about my swiftness on the mental playing field, I was also told that when I look at people and go, "Well DUH!" it puts them off. 

I have no defense, I don't mean to make anyone feel dumb, but me going "duh!" is a knee-jerk reaction. (Reminder: I play in the Myst Universe a.k.a. "The World's Coolest MENSA Convention," so I really am usually the dumbest person in the room. My 131 isn't piddle compared with some of those folks.)

Earlier, I opened up one of my regular trade pubs I get via e-mail, a Smartbrief. Most of the time I breeze through them, picking up a useful insight or two along the way.

Today though, I stumbled upon an article entitled "Mobile Mind Shift, Smarter Connectivity Will Change Digital Marketing."

After reading it, I just facepalmed.

Really? Seriously? They actually posted that article in good conscience? You gotta be kidding me.

So I fired off a tweet with a link to the article.

I couldn't help it! It's so no-brainer.
Portability, if you're not on all four screens, you're missing opportunities.

Well, just slap me in the mouth and call me "dumbfounded" because that tweet got favorited four times a short 20 minutes later.

Good gods, really? To me, that's so blatantly obvious it hurts. That me pointing out something so blatantly obvious that every single CMO worth their salt should have KNOWN - and been executing two years ago - gets favorited by not only one, but FOUR people with 11,000+ followers each?

Excuse my vernacular, but you've gotta be shitting me. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that four people get it, but think for a moment about all those ridiculously high-paid CMO's who don't.

I don't mean to be prideful, but someone that unaware making that much money just makes me cringe. (Yeah, I know...'Welcome to Corporate America', and people actually wonder why I usually don't play well with others.)

I don't know about you, but if I was a CEO that had a CMO that didn't know two years ago that the cross-platform portability of their messaging was mandatory - for viability and survival of their brand(s) - I would give them a kick to the curb so fast it would make their heads swim.

But let's go bigger than that: if I was on the Board of Directors of a company who's CEO didn't catch that behind-the-curve CMO, both of them would have received the 'prostitute boot' and been on the sidewalk in one quick hurry.

I personally think people that far behind the curve or worse - not pushing the edge and able to see this kind of stuff a mile off before anyone else does - proves the point of one of my favorite quotes:

"That's suit thinking. Something happens to a man when he puts on a necktie.
Cuts off all the oxygen to his brain."

Thank you Michael J. Fox! Without Alex P. Keaton's popularity, the world would have never seen John Pankow deliver that fantastic line in 1987's The Secret of My Succe$s.

I was 15 when that movie came out. Do the math. I heard that line for the first time 26 years ago; and to this day, every single time I see a professional Darwin Award-winning move, I repeat it out loud.

I gotta be crazy, because I should get big money for it, but to save myself (and the four other people that get it) some heartache, I'm going to cut some neckties off and get oxygen flowing back to some brains. It's also known as handing out some million-dollar insight for free.


#1 - Get with the times.

Look out of your Maybach window. Sorry to say, the world is not all about you and your kid's private school interview.

See all the people walking into things because they are face-down in their mobile devices? Yeah, them. They are your audience and there are only about a bajillion ways to get to them besides a traditional media buy, a fancy website and a Facebook ad.

If you haven't noticed, while you've been propped up like a prince plugged into your overpriced iWhatever, according to Neilsen, 53% of the mobile market in the U.S. belongs to Android and the Google Play Store is doing a TON of business.


#2 - Facebook is NOT the only answer.

While you've been dining on overpriced meals at Le Cirque and being hand-fed grapes by your staff of Yes Men, Facebook's "Pinky & The Brain" campaign for world domination is not only being laughed at, it's getting one-upped constantly by a rising sea of new mobile apps like Mobli. These new apps are taking whole chunks of market share because smart consumers (read: first-adopters) are sick and tired of Facebook's constantly changing, (read: unreliable) terms of service. Can you say "The Instagram Gaffe Effect"?

Get off your overpaid fanny and get down in the dirt with us plebs and find out how we're communicating.


#3 - Vomit begets vomit.

Yeah, you know I'm right. One whiff of stomach acid and everybody's stomach is doing the churn while the weak stomached are already head down in the porcelain throne following suit.

Vomiting your message on any type of SocMed (that's a Sheri-ism for Social Media to you new folks) begets more vomit because the bigger the brand doing it tells the little uneducated ones it's okay to do so.

Add to your vocabularies (and jobs on your payrolls) "Social Media Specialist." There are college campuses filled to the brim with young job-seekers who live their lives 24/7 in SocMed far beyond Facebook's scope or realm of imagination. Trust them. They know more than you do and can rival J. Edgar Hoover on the amount of information they can gather for you. Most importantly though is that they know how to use the media - they understand that any messaging you want spread MUST be done via CONVERSATION - not vomited all over everyone. Why? Because no one wants a reason to be face down in the porcelain throne having a conversation with the Tidy Bowl Man if they can avoid it.


#4 - Make friends with the books of Al Ries.

Lordy, if you're in my profession and don't know who he is, quit your job and join the Peace Corps. Seriously. Because if you haven't caught up on your reading and don't have in your professional arsenal The Fall of Advertising and the Rise of PR you are just making life hard on the rest of us.

Whole segments of consumers are not walking, THEY ARE RUNNING away from advertising. They don't want to hear your 30-second elevator pitch. They aren't interested in your bait-and-switch style micro-transaction based app. They are interested in honesty and guess what? A good majority of consumers wouldn't trust advertising if their lives depended on it. The honesty they are looking and desperately longing for is found in the conversations they are having with family and friends. (And the ad-free apps they can download for free.)


#5 - Don't mess with the ghost of Bill B.

Bill Bernbach said, "The only way from the past into the future is an idea."

He's also the man who is going to come back from the grave and slap you in the mouth for adding to the clutter; for not learning the art of "it's not how short you make it, but how you make it short." Hell, he'd ring my neck for this blog post being so long.

But I'll bet dollars to doughnuts he'd kick each and every one of our butts for not having the insight to know that SocMed has a million different faces and for not realizing that what we already know is in the past.

Cross-platform connectivity is not based on how many different SocMed platforms you vomit on, it's carefully choosing which one will work best for you, with you and encourage a message style that happily gives consumers what they want to see...

A world free of advertising that values each individual - acknowledging, accepting and applauding their individuality - on a deep, personal level.  (That means: Hello!  You've got to engage!  And it better be more than just more message spew. If you're not sincere, you're wasting an opportunity to empower a fresh, spanking-new brand ambassador.)

But that's okay, not everyone gets that kind of thinking.  You go right ahead though, roll your window back up if you wanna have a not-so-nice visit with the ghost of Bill B.

However if you must persist in following the clutter-spewing herd off the nearest cliff, do me a favor, wear a parachute. I hate the sound of professional death wails.

Don't be a lemming. Join the Lemming Liberation Front and help me free the world of senseless following...because Lordy, Facebook Home on a Facebook Phone? Really? Do you honestly believe that consumers will not eventually figure out they've signed up to be slaves in the world's largest data mine?

Oh wait, Apple did that already. Yeah, but at least Steve Jobs made iLemmings look cool and wrapped his whole homogeneous iSociety into something resembling Hotel California. Zuck can try to do the same, but Al Ries will only look at him and say:

"That position has already been taken."

Lemmings follow. Mavericks lead with brilliant ideas. You know which one you are and which one you want to be. What on Earth are you waiting for?

Here endeth the lesson.

What "lives" in houses.

Ace has been looking for houses. As a born digger who can practically find every little last scrap of information about things, I've been helping out as best I can, going through records, ownership histories, looking for bargains...just an all-around real estate gal Friday.

Well, he received an automated listing from his real estate agent.  In Las Vegas, in a very posh neighborhood to boot, a 4,000 square foot house on a half acre of land was available for the dirt cheap price of (get this) $99,000.

You do realize we all just did the same thing, right?  We all said, "Okay, what's the catch?"

Here it comes.

When he saw that great big house on 1700 Bannie Ave listed for $99,000 he told me about it and we both kind of cocked our heads sideways. Over 4,000 square feet for $99K? 

I went straight to work on it.

It seems that house has a name.  It's called "La Palazza" and oh boy does it have a history!

The house “La Palazza Mansion” located at 1700 Bannie Ave. apparently seems to be haunted, and it’s not good spirits either. Apparently the mafia owned the house and installed a secret room where they would kill people in it. 

Malevolent spirits apparently drove out the last owner in 2009 and it has sat vacant ever since.

I found the first clue on a Travel Channel show called “Ghost Adventures.” Here is the link to the episode on YouTube.

Here is a synopsis if you don’t want to watch it: http://manofmystery24.hubpages.com/hub/Satans-Mansion

Okay, now we all know that I don't fall easily for reality show hype with my disdain for Bunny Foo-Foo and that kiddie beauty pageant stuff, so I went over to the City of Las Vegas Website and to the Clark County Assessors Office and started to dig through public records. 

Originally it looks that the house was 2600 sq. ft. built in 1959.

The last time the house was sold was in June of 2009 for $340,000.  (Remember, it's now listed as available for $99,000. I mean the economy tanked, but it didn't tank THAT bad.)

Here’s where I got freaked. The house was originally built in 1959, right?

Well it doesn’t show to be owned until 1962 when it was purchased by a Doyle E and Lenore M Jordan.

Apparently it was changed over to a trust, the D&L Jordan Trust in 1989.

After that, it doesn’t show any changes until 1994 when it was purchased by a Jonathan A. Allen.

Four years later, in 1998 it was registered as owned by a mortgage fund, Goodrich and Pennington.

In 1999, it was sold to a Jefferey Talley.

In 2004, it was sold to a Ronald Nocum on July 19.

Almost one year later exactly in 2005, it was sold to a Nicholas Joseph Santucci on July 1.

Then again, almost one year later, on August 10 of 2006 it was sold to a Diane Martinez.

This time it lasted a little over a year when it was turned over to HBSC Bank on December 6, 2007.

The final entry for this house is a little over a year later again...June 6, 2009 it was sold to a Keith Resnick.

The current parcel number for the house is 162-04-210-020 when Mr. Resnick (who now lives in Santa Monica, CA) sold to the the Interstar Land Company LLC almost exactly three months later for $10 on September 15, 2009 and has been unoccupied ever since.

Buy a house for $340,000 but sell it for $10?  Doesn't sound like good real estate savvy to me, but can you blame him?

Here’s the link for my source and you can flip through the building sketch, and ownership history yourselves.

Here is the link to the last sale deed. 

Oddly enough, for the vesting of this house it is shown as “no status”, since listed as “Joint Tenanacy” for Mr. and Mrs. Jordan in 1962.

When it became even freakier was when we looked at the comps: all of the houses surrounding it have all been sold within the last two years. Transactions 1000 feet from the house start at $72,000 for 1213 Charmast Ln. which is in foreclosure and go all the way up to $1.5 million for 1250 Shadow Lane. 

Here’s the odd part about the one for $1.5 mil...it’s new registered owner is DTP Shadow House LLC, but records are only available up to 2000 where it was owned by the Fox family the entire time.

When I started to want to run, not walk, and snuggle my entire body into Ace’s armpit and never come out again was when I discovered that the house on the opposite end of the street, the opposite corner to it, isn’t even a house anymore...it’s been demolished. 1415 Westwood Dr. is worth $125,000 and sitting vacant having gone through a similar churn as 1700 Bannie.

You know, I used to work at Disneyworld and I knew plenty of folks who worked over in the Magic Kingdom and had a blast putting on their costumes to work at the Haunted Mansion. Well, now that I’ve actually found one, Walt can keep it. 

I told Ace after digging through all those houses that I will be damned if I set toe one in that neighborhood, I don’t give a rat’s tinker how gorgeous the neighborhood is. I’m a white girl that is now whiter than a sheet. I grew up in a haunted house. I don’t like ghosts even though the ones I grew up with watched over us very politely.

Yikes. So before I get even more freaked out, I’ll leave you with that. I’m just glad I’ve got good digging skills because when Ace asked me to look into it and the Google Search came up with “haunted” with the address, the hunt began and sure enough, it’s too good to be true.

Oh and btw, the guy who’s in charge of the listing, has it listed as “no show.” No wonder!

Even if Ace begs, I am NOT letting him set toe one into that house. 

I mean I know I’m a real handful sometimes, but I ain’t nothing on what’s currently “living” in that house.

Mmmhmm...and some people complain about their leaky faucets or having to replace a water heater.

Eeek!

Bookworm Rising

Sorry it's been so long since I've updated my blog.  It's been busy, busy around here.

Let's start with a catch-up on what's happening this semester, then onto today's entry:

Spring 2013 marks me being just a few credit hours away from my degree after this semester, so I'm in the middle of the hunt for my minor, Family Studies, or as you'll be seeing it abbreviated, MFT for "Marriage and Family Therapy."

I don't know what the hell I was thinking with a minor in family studies. Given my background, I might as well have signed up for electroshock treatments, but I'll tell you this, it's a sight better than the fascists over in Communications.  Don't ask, I'm not even going to talk about it.  Just sufficed to say my experience with the Com staff was bad, actually, really bad, so let's just leave that alone.  Still in need of a minor, I hollered at a famous face here on the Sophomore, the incredible Doc Cat, and she'll not only be taking me through therapy techniques in MFT 428, but also acting as my adviser for the rest of my time at UNLV.   So, give a cheer, Doc Cat is back, hopefully she won't have to tow me across the finish line in a big heap. Cross your fingers.

With MFT, all semester has just been one, long, triggered nightmare.  I actually had to beg out in the middle of my MFT 350 class two weeks ago because my triggers became so bad I actually had a puddle at my feet with how hard I was crying because my triggers went off so hard.  Of course you know what happens when my triggers go off that bad, right?  Through no choosing of my own, I literally want the blood of the people who hurt me. Given the topic that day, people better be thanking their lucky stars or whatever deity they fearfully worship, because it would have turned ugly really fast if I would have had proximity to a single soul responsible for my illnesses. Doc Cat has been telling me for years that I've been too lenient on the people responsible for my wonderful illnesses and that it is only natural that I am violently P.O.'d.  Trust me, if you think I wake up like a 2-ton bear with sharp claws and an attitude, you don't ever, and I mean EVER want to see me triggered to the point I was a few weeks ago, it makes that bear look like a wimp. 'Too lenient' is keeping me out of trouble.

See, when I'm triggered really hard, all bets are off because nothing on this planet (outside of heavy sedation) will begin to control my defense mechanism which manifests as an uncontrollable flight response. If anyone gets in the way, purposefully blocking me from escaping, that person has taken their life into their own hands; because at that point, my illness doesn't differentiate: it becomes extremely violent because all I comprehend is the raw, unbridled rage of my intrusive memories. Think of it this way, it doesn't matter if it were Santa Claus or the Virgin Mary standing in front of me, I wouldn't be able to tell. All I would see is my intrusive memories and given that I'm a lot stronger than I used to be, things go flying and I wouldn't be surprised in the least if some idiot got in the middle of that, they'd come away with an actual limp.  If I'd be coherent enough to realize it was someone who was actually responsible...oh gods, I don't even dare want to think about what would happen. I'd probably end up in jail.

The worst part of it all? I have yet to see the extent of what's hiding down really deep. With the taste of it I got two weeks ago, then another incident that followed, I actually fear how much anger is in there; and the gods help whatever dumb-ass decides to pull the Darwin Award-winning maneuver of turning it all loose.  I've become Bruce Banner in The Avengers. If you can't quite remember, just take a glance back at Bruce Banner's answer on how he controls his anger. I have the exact same answer.

The best part of it though? Ace. I'm so grateful for him, I can't even begin to describe it because he's helping me with the anger thing. Latent, repressed, all sorts, by now it sounds more like ordering a cup of coffee at Starbucks than an emotional management issue..."Yes, I'll take a Grande Passive-Aggressive Cappucino in a Venti cup with two add shots of latent hostility, fill the rest with the milk of human kindness...mmhmm, that's to-go."

Oh, and here's the funny part...seems as more folks from my adolescence have decided to friend me on Facebook. So, welcome to them.  Coffee, anyone?

Yes Hephaestus, my dear Editor, I hear you...I liked the coffee joke!  That was a good one! I can't help but hear the cat with Sylvester in 'Birds Anonymous', "One little bird! Just one little bird! I gotta have it!"  No iLemming jokes? Oh come on, just one little iLemming? What about a medical spoof about how vicariously living through others leads to ill health effects? No? Oh Pbbbt.  You're no fun.  

But, let's get on to more fun things...like today's fabulous post!

As I've written about on numerous occasions, I'm a really big fan of Sherrilyn Kenyon.  In all the years I've been reading her books about all of her PTSD-afflicted heroes, I've never resonated completely with a singular one of her Dark Hunters. Understood all of their stories perfectly? Yes. Knew 110% where they were coming from? Heavens, yes! Each and every book has been like a trip to the therapist and then some. Nobody writes about what I struggle with every day like she does.

My first Dark Hunter novel was one I actually got as a Christmas gift and it only took me about a week to finish it. Still to this day though, Acheron is a character I consider to be like a brother. I whooped, hollered and cheered my head off when Soteria handed out a long-needed talking-to; I've cheered many an hour for the Kattalakis boys, AND was just tickled pink to find out Zarek and Sundown loved playing Myst Online together!!! I love how she just spins all of her characters up in this huge, paranormal, dysfunctional family. I, like many of her fans, wait with bated breath to see which character is going to be next in the series.

Well, until we delve into the next part of the Chronicles of Nick with Inferno, her latest hero to step up to have his story told is Ren in Time Untime which I'm currently enjoying as my spring break pleasure read. Okay, I can now say there is a Dark Hunter that could easily exchange their story for mine.  I've never cried so hard in my life through parts of a book like this. Some pages are verbatim straight out of my life; so much so that I had to put it down at the end of chapter 7, wiping my eyes with my umpteenth Kleenex, saying to myself, "I can't take anymore right now."

I won't lie, each of her books is really draining for me but really awesome with a healing upside...it's one of those moments where you get to let out a sigh of relief and say,"It's good to know I'm not alone and wasn't the only one who went through something like that."

So if you ever decide you need an adventure and Ms. Kenyon and her books seem appealing, have a 'surgeon general's' type warning: When people call Sherrilyn Kenyon 'author goddess', they ain't lying! Good to the last sniffle and bit of runny mascara, except with Bond cars and gadgetry, along with action packed portions that will leave you wishing you'd have learned a classical weapon or some type of martial arts fighting style.

Okay, enough of this weepy, girly crap already. Time to stow my C-PTSD whines and put on my cape so I can go do my 'average, ordinary, everyday superhero' routine.  The problem is...Edna Mode says, "No capes!" So I'll just have to go with the Kill Bill "Clark Kent" analogy. That should lock up more than a few minds for the day.

Double-header of vid for you today, like the description of me turning into the She-Hulk wasn't frightening enough...

First, that little analogy I mentioned earlier (which my ex-husband swears it's so me):

And for those of you who know me really well and have been around for me leaping over tall buildings with a single bound, gimme a 'damn straight!' my sweeties, even with parts that are still broken, this one has been a long time in coming.  The second, by Smashmouth, is the song of the day:

Hey Momma Kitte...this one is for you:

God and His Sense of Humor

Last night I had the weirdest dream.  Now, y'all know me, I'm not one to talk about religion, well unless those pesky "do as I say, not as I do," Sunday Christians show up beating their bibles but sin their pants off all week long...*shrug*  I might have my opinions and they may not necessarily mesh with yours, at least I can say I'll sit and give you a polite listen.

Well, that dream last night was one of those that well, it's like the Ant and the Boulder. Now I don't know what's up with me and ants except maybe that I admire them because they can carry hundreds of times their body weight without a single complaint in the world.  Maybe I gravitate towards ants because they work together as a cohesive team, one big family making sure everyone makes it through one more day.

But enough about all that, let's get to that dream:

*Ahem* (as I get into a Paul Harvey/Andy Rooney mode...)

Yesterday was nothing eventful or special, so as I laid back into my pillows, I drifted off to a peaceful sleep.  Before I knew it, I was standing on a roadside in Texas watching the Bluebonnets and Indian Paintbrushes waving in a warm spring breeze.  As I was taking in a scene I hadn't thought of in years, I heard a man clear his throat, and to my surprise I turned around and it was God.

Anyone who knows me knows the first thing I'm going to say, and of course he looked into my eyes and said, "Yup, it's me.  Now before you say anything, I know you have your misgivings and you're prone to doubt, but I figured just once I'd show up and give you that proof that you've longed to see with your own eyes."

And with that, God waved his hand and day turned into night.  Something about the surroundings gave me a start and God said, "Do you know where we are?" To which I replied, "Hey, we're on Texas Avenue!"  It was then in the far distance my eyes could make out just barely the beautiful letters that spelled "K-Y-L-E F-I-E-L-D."

I turned to God and said, "Hey, I've been up and down this road all my life, we're not a stones throw from my family, cousins and kin."  And God said, "Yep, this I know only far too well, I was there at Central Baptist the day you got dunked and I have to say I loved your giggle when your mom slipped in the baptismal."  We had a quick chuckle, then his face turned solemn. "But I'm sad to see your faith completely slipped away, so I'm here to restore to you a little bit of goodwill.  You see, you could say I'm not a very 'hands-on' kind of guy, so I'll beg your forgiveness when I didn't show up as you cried and cried.  But for you, just this once, I want to show you how special you are to me."

Just then we saw a pair of headlights driving up the road, and well, the worst caterwauling you've ever heard was coming out of the passenger seat.  It was a man and a woman driving along in this little sports car with the woman and one of those little purse dogs both just a-yowling, singing along with the music on the stereo, the woman praising herself for the magnificent voice she had and how incredibly beautiful she was.  As we watched God leaned over and explained the scene to me.  The man who was bunched up and uncomfortable  in the driver's seat had been deceived by that caterwauling thing - and he had begun to see that her claims of love and fidelity were just a ruse to get through to his pedigree (and his family fortune no less).  The poor guy, he just looked miserable in that driver's seat.  Just then God produced a phone from his robes and made a call to a gal who seemed to owe him a favor.  Well, just as God hung up his phone, Mother Nature called on the driver, begging him to pull over and ease his aching bladder.

Yup, you guessed it, they stopped right in front of the home of our beloved Aggies, great ol' T.A.M.U.

Well, as the driver tried to quickly get his embarrassing problem quickly taken care of, that prideful gal went on a sort of well 'verbal tinkle' of her own, I guess you could say.  She scoffed and sneered and made it very clear that she didn't have much respect for the Ag's.  She ranted and raved, saying that her school and A&M had been rivals for years, and how A&M was low class, how the school was awful and so forth.  It was then God reached down and hit his 'Mute' button for us, at which point I looked at God and said, "For Uncle Bill's sake!  Excuse my question, but that accent of hers doesn't sound anything like she went to T.U. in Austin, does it?"  It was then that God gave me a wink and said, "You're absolutely right, that gal's from Indiana, and to blasphem like that, not but a hop skip and a jump from where Tex Schramm made sure I could see my Cowboys play every Sunday!  I'll fix her wagon for being so prideful and vain, she's taken her snide trickery too far I say!"

He wiggled his finger right where her tantrum was the worst.  As she kicked at the ground with her bellows and wails, her foot sliced through a mound of fire ants so red they looked like they had sprung from hell itself!  Those ants went to speedy work not only stinging that prideful gal, but her vain pocket pooch as well! The driver of the car, finally figuring out what was happening, just stepped right to the trunk of that little scrunched up, uncomfortable coupe and fished himself out of his ice chest a cold Shiner Bock.  He popped the top, took a long swallow and chuckled to himself as he witnessed the debacle.  That prideful girl howled and the dog sang along with that too, until a campus cop arrived to find out what was the matter.

That poor man stuck behind the steering wheel for the sake of those two ant-covered monsters, reached back into the ice chest in the trunk and offered that nice officer a beer.  He said,"As you can see, these two have made the acquaintance of a whole mound of fire ants.  I think I can handle it from here."  Well, as the campus cop had a giggle, he turned down the beer and took off wishing the man well, laughing his way down the road away from that caterwauling girl and her silly pocket pooch.

And as the scene wrapped up, the man looked down at his frosty bottle of beer and sighed, "What a waste," as he drenched that poor pooch from fur to skin in fine Texas beer.  With the pooch shivering and quiet, he looked at that vain, selfish monster he had married, looked toward God and said, "What have I done?"  God said not a word, he just looked over at me and then back onto that dreadful scene.

It was then that the poor driver reached back in to the trunk of the car, grabbed two cold ones, popped their tops, sighed,"What a shame," and began to hose down his vain and malicious wife, with one of the few laughs he'd have while married to that terrible thing.  He stuffed both woman and dog smelling of wet canine cologne and marred Texas brew to take them to a hotel where he'd sleep with his head under his pillows to escape those evil two.

It was then God turned and said,"I'm glad you listened when I sent word to you to greet everyone you meet with a smile on your face and love in your heart.  I'm grateful that you're trying your best to lead your life as one of humble service.  But most of all, I'm so glad you know the price of pride, greed, and envy.  For that, dear girl, is why I'm here with you today.  As you could tell, those ants were no accident.  So since I gave you that one chuckle, I think you can have a little faith just this once. Because remember, I might not be very hands-on, but for those who are doing their best, not just talking about it, but really doing it...being their very best not just on Sundays, but every day of their lives.  So I know you're into this little thing called 'a-theism', but do me a favor, one day when you need me the most, give me the benefit of the doubt."

As God turned and walked away, I heard him gently say, "Keep your chin up, I'm never far away and remember...I'm always watching."

Bully in the Shadows

Friends,

As you all know, I grew up in a world silently suffering at the hands of bullies with no recourse - resulting in the illness I aggressively fight against every day.

Bullies rely on their threats and insults to strip power from their victims.  What they never expect is for their would-be victims to fight back.  Because I live day in and day out with C-PTSD and have an amazing support structure, it has fortunately turned my flight response into a full-on, both barrels loaded, unafraid, extremely ticked-off FIGHT response.

It truly breaks my heart to have to post about this, but to allow bullies to go unpunished is not my style anymore.

Yesterday,  as I began to post my spring preview post, I found something quite disturbing.

In the "comments waiting for moderation" was a comment written for the intentional and express purpose of emotionally harming, tormenting and traumatizing me. When I showed Ace the comment he said,"They used one word maliciously three times, that's someone who knows you personally and wants to hurt you badly."

Since the person took the time to use the exact same language as the despicable,  low-life bullies I grew up with, I can only speculate that it is one of them. The ironic tell-tale signature lies in the fact that this would-be assailant posted anonymously, extremely typical of the cowardly bullies I grew up with.

Attempting to verbally assault me via the comments section of my blog was a very lame, amateur attempt to exert power over someone they have no power over at all.

To this poor, jealous, pathetic individual I can only express my deepest pity. That their life is so unfulfilling that they must now resort to cyberbullying someone they've not seen in 20 years is a testament to how small and sad their life really is.

However if they feel the need to persist, I have only one reply, "Keep trying, one day you'll get it."

Oh and p.s.: Get a life. 

Me and my nose...

Lately, to relax my brain and let everything in the world go, I've been having fun with Pinterest.  I mean, when everyone is flat broke, nothing looks appealing and my illnesses are kicking my butt, I had to find something, right?  I've been especially triggered lately and no amount of comfort anyone can give can get me over my sense of alienation, abandonment and rejection.  It's really taken a turn for the worse and I don't particularly like it.

On grand occasion over the last 30 years, my left ear and left side of my head have exploded in sharp, dagger-like pain. When it has happened, I usually just write it off and wait for it to go away and it usually does.  But for the last several months I have been dealing with an earache from hell. It has felt like an ice pick has been shoved into my eardrum and my neck along with the whole left side of my skull feeling like they're in a vice.  Overall, I have been wondering why my sinuses have been giving me the dickens on the left side of my face for years...well, a visit to the student health center illuminated it for me.

I have a deviated septum.  According to my doctor, from a cosmetic standpoint I'm perfectly symmetrical on the surface.  However, underneath the surface it's a completely different story. It seems as mine tilts completely to the right, leaving my right side wide open and my left barely functioning.  He looked at me and said, "That's not natural and doesn't come from just a bonk on the nose, you must've taken a Mack Truck sized punch." My jaw clenched shut and I just shrugged.  Nothing would come out. I don't talk about those things.

He went onto explain that because of the severity of my deviated septum, the Eustachian tube on my left side has a lot of pressure built up in it and it was making my eardrum swell outwards, hence the pain and headaches.  I always wondered why my left ear squeaked when I would equalize when I went diving at the aquarium to clean the exhibits...no small wonder.  Well, he gave me some Flonase with strict instructions to do both sides of my nose once a day to relieve the pressure and hopefully get me fairly straightened out.

After I walked out of the Health and Wellness Center on campus and headed out to my car, anxiety overwhelmed me and tears just started falling.  I know exactly who is responsible for my deviated septum.  I don't like thinking about the day and I don't want to remember it at all, but C-PTSD doesn't let you.  As you can guess, it has triggered a whole new round of intrusive memories, feelings of alienation and kicked my avoidance behaviors through the roof.  The slightest noise and I flinch.  If an arm moves in my direction I tense up, flinch and duck. Rounds and rounds of "you may be pretty on the outside but you're ugly on the inside", "you're worthless" and other insults fly at me through intrusive memories and worse, when I go to sleep at night I can see the hand that came with such power at my face that I literally sit up in the bed crying because I'm so terrified.  I get short of breath and my body is covered in sweat.  It's a miserable way to live. I love how someone defined "Borderline" personality disorder the other day, they said,"Essentially, BPD is what happens to a person when you spend years mentally and physically torturing them from early childhood. The torture consists at least in withholding all physical and verbal expressions of love, and often it there is the active component of telling the child that he is hated and worthless. Broken promises, emotional neglect and verbal abuse." They likened it to 'having unhealed third degree burns on the emotional system.' That description is so dead-on to the mark, I can't even begin to relay how.

Ace has taken command for right now.  He's been really patient with me and holding me a lot. It's been a steady diet of Xanax and talking to get me to relax enough to sleep but it's been very hard because every time I close my eyes I can see the event over and over and over and feel the impact of each blow.  I know I'm supposed to be tough and just let it go, but this one is tougher because it's 30 years of latent memories that I'm battling. It's like jumping onto PTSD airlines and being stuck in the middle of a hurricane, turbulence galore with nothing but hypersensitive shocks.  So, I'm up again late, trying to get my heart to stop pounding in my chest and my tears to stop falling while I learn how to cope.  If you'd like to see my handiwork that has been tonight's fun on Pinterest where I've been trying to pin my pain away, be my guest.

http://pinterest.com/eternalsophmore/materialistic-stuff-for-an-imaginary-dream-home/

Dun, Dun, Dun...midterms

Do you know in the entire time I've been going to UNLV, I think this is the ONLY semester where I've actually had mid-term exams?  Yeah, if I recall correctly, I've not had a mid-term two weeks like this ever.  This sucks!

Mid-terms started with the wonders of Virtual Worlds.  Ok, you guys can just shut up with the "That's not fair..." business.  Yes, I took my mid-term in 447, "Survey of Virtual Worlds and Social Media."  Hey, I'm learning Unity!  Okay, yeah...I've had to play Second Life *barf*, those who know me know how I disdain that relic, but then I got to play WoW, and Minecraft...and oh, let's see...URU!!!!!  Oh yeah baby!  Two weeks talking about my homeworld and my people!  Cavern Blood Runs Deep with Uru Pride!  (Doesn't hurt I'm in the textbook...)

Next was my mid-term in Mass Media and American Politics...that was, okay....

After that was my Philosophy 102 exam...critical thinking....hmmm, wonder when I do that....hmmm....

But, the killer is on Monday.  Com 216 - Survey of Communications.  Plato, Aristotle, Burke, and a whole bunch of guys who make up the Humanities Tradition in communications.  I actually really enjoyed the lectures in this part of the semester, so with some reading and a whole ton of studying, only to take breaks to focus on World Concept, I should be good and busy until at least Monday afternoon at 4pm.

Speaking of...I have got to go out to vote...get it done early so that the campaign people stop calling my house.  At this point, I don't care if the candidate is blue, red, indigo, purple or damn aquamarine...if those doodah's don't stop knocking at the door and ringing my phone, something nasty is going to happen to all those mud slingers, and I won't be responsible for my actions.  Last week a republican vote solicitor wore my front door up his nose because he pulled the ultimate faux-pas...he woke me up.  Each and every one of you just cringed...I saw it!  I know you know what happened to that poor fella, he got eaten, first because he did the one thing you KNOW not to do, which is wake me up with startling or loud noises (moron just had to pound on the door), the second was just on general principle because he was a republican and touting a known town charlatan.  He actually had the audacity to shout through my door, "Won't you even consider a republican for a local race?"  Sweeties, the guy could have been made out of money and hopping up and down like a jackrabbit with two golden rabbit's feet, but if I am rudely woken up, all bets are off and you're lucky if you get away with skin still attached.   When I first wake up, you better pray to whatever diety you worship that I'm in a good mood, otherwise, run for the hills because I have all of the tone, manner and demeanor of a large, lumbering, ticked off 1000lb Eurasian Brown Bear!  Ever seen the size of the paws on those guys?  Ask someone who has rudely woken me up, they can tell you from first hand experience. LOL!

But I had a laugh yesterday as 216 was wrapping up...Do you know that one of my professors purposefully watches the Weather Channel all during September-November?  He does it because it's the only channel that DOESN'T show political ads.

I'm curious about winter storms, aren't you???  Maybe they'll put on some nature show so I might spot a bear while I'm studying and working.

Have a great rest of your week!