Case of the Mondays, Part 1: Nick Names

I don't like nicknames.

My parents painstakingly combed through lists upon lists of names and finally settled on the one they would ultimately give me.  And then every asshole with a mouth thinks it's alright to rename me something else.

My name is Hilary.  It is not Hil, Hils, Hily...

Hilary.

I'm sorry if three syllables is too cumbersome, but it is my name and that's what I prefer to be called.

There are exceptions, of course.

• My parents can call me whatever they want; they named me, they can rename me if they would like.
• My boyfriend, because I find everything he does adorable.
• Small children, because their little mouths can't form the sounds that make my name.

I'd rather be called something completely wrong than be called a shortened version of Hilary.

Amen.

Three Things

First thing.
I'm obsessed with my puppy.

She is a six month old Beagle/Basset mix.  In this picture she was littler than she is now.  There are a lot of really great things about CreamCheese.

• She is cute
• She can sit when commanded to do so
• She groans in her sleep and it's so adorable it breaks my heart
• She likes me most of the time
• She looks good in pictures, so I can post them on various social media sites and make everyone jealous
• She goes bananas for peanut butter
• She's very sweet
• She's dumb as rocks
• I love her so much

Second thing.
Great-Grandma Celia's Rice Crispy Treats

1 cup of clear corn syrup
1 cup of peanut butter
1/2 cup brown sugar
4 cups Rice Krispies cereal

Melt the corn syrup and brown sugar together until the sugar is dissolved. Add the peanut butter and swirl it in the sugars until melted and a big glop of light brown sticky.
Add the cereal and stir until coated (it'll Snap, Crackle, and POP). Press into a baking dish until cool. Cut apart. Eat all of them in one sitting.

This recipe can easily be doubled or tripled. Quadrupled. Honestly, you can't possibly make too much.
You might also try the chocolate puffed rice cereal, but I like my treats pure to Celia's vision. She must have been a good lady.


Third Thing.
I am in desperate need of some sort of miracle hair product that will change my hair from straw to golden threads of silk.
Any suggestion is welcome.  Please help.

I Almost DIED Last Night

You read that right: I almost died.

Not to sound dramatic or anything.

It snowed last week or maybe it rained, but in any case the yard has become a patchy ice rink.
CreamCheese gets a burst of energy in the evening and if she's not chased around for a little while she never falls asleep.  I took her out and we ran around for approximately 45 seconds before I slipped.

I fell harder than I have ever fallen before.  My hip hit the ground first, then my knee, then ankle, then shoulder, then FACE, then knee and ankle again.

I hit my FACE on the ground!  Like some common face hitter!  My money-maker!  My pride and joy!  MY FACE!! It bounced!  That's how people die!

I tried to get up, but couldn't move.  Puppy excitedly jumped on my near-lifeless body, attempting to lick my face (oh, my face!).
After a minute of rolling around, stunned and very cold, I managed to get to my feet.  My entire right side wasn't working, but I had to get back to the house.  It's the last time I walk out the door without bringing my phone; it would have been hours before anyone missed me and came looking.

I dragged myself to the house, shrieking "INJURY" repeatedly, hoping someone would appear with a wheelchair or maybe some crutches.  No one heard me and no one came to my aid.

When I got back into the house I moaned a loud and pathetic "OHHHHHHHHH!", which was at last acknowledged and my mother came to me at once.  I was sat down on the couch and brought enough ice packs and pain relievers for a squad of injured Me's.

I woke this morning, and the coffee smelled better, my shower left me cleaner, the birds sang more sweetly.
Those are the sorts of things us people who almost died recognize.

Part Of My Job Is Haunted

I often think I'm being spooked by something.  I've cut off all ties to the Blue Room at my parents house, because when I'm in there it feels like I'm being watched and if I lay there long enough without intervention, it feels like I'm being breathed on and then touched.    I don't shower in the upstairs bathroom at their house, because when I'm in there it also feels like I'm being watched.

I don't know what the spooks want from me, and I'm not sure if I believe in them, but I sure do feel weird sometimes.

At work I have to go to the owner's house to fix his computers and things.  He lives on an old farm that has 3 historic homes on it.
A few months back we were looking for a laptop, so my coworker and I looked around one of the houses and it was eerie to say the least.  I imagined Civil War soldiers, bloodied and dying, being treated by the house wenches.  I imagined most of them died and now haunt the basement.

I went there last week on my own and I met a different kind of spook.

I actually saw this one.

I was working on the computer with my back to the room.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a dark figure walk to the other side of the room.  She was a woman and had her head tilted down, hair covering her face.  She rustled in a bowl of candy.
I turned around and she bolted toward the bathroom.  The door slammed and then it went silent.  I worked on the computer for a while longer and then left.

She didn't come back out of the bathroom.  She made no noise.  There were no candy wrappers.  No trace of a car that she might have come in.  I haven't any idea who it was that I saw, but I guess she had a hankerin for some sweets.

Things To Complain About, part 3

My favorite person is in Argentina right now, or maybe Chile.  It's not fair because:
1. I miss him.
2. I want to go there.
3. He shouldn't take trips without me.


4. I don't have a bottle of Noble Vines red blend OR a wine uncorker to soothe my sorrow.

Mostly just 1-3, though.