SPOILER ALERT

 As the title of this blog suggested, this blog contains serious spoilers! Reader discretion advised!

If you are my friend on Facebook, you are probably aware that I spent all of last night watching Season 4 of Game of Thrones. I FINALLY got it in the mail yesterday and since today was my day off, there was nothing stopping me from binge-watching! It took me right about 12 hours, including breaks. When I watch Game of Thrones by myself I tend to send my sister text after text, even if it's long after she's gone to bed. I just feel the need to document my shock! These are last night's "WTF" texts:

"Ahhh! It appears it was Margaery's grandma who poisoned Joffrey!"
1:30 am

"WHAT! Lord Petyr Baelish is responsible for the war! He made Lysa poison Jon Arryn!! This is nuts."
2:34 am

"Shae is testifying against Tyrion! She said he and Sansa are guilty of murdering Joffrey! Evil lady!!"
3:50 am

"TYRION JUST DEMANDED TRIAL BY COMBAT"
3:55 am

"WHAT is this madness????"
3:55 am

"Well maybe Petyr killed Joff too! So complicated!"
4:46 am

"Aaaaaaaaaaaand Petyr just kissed Sansa while Lysa, his new bride, watched!!!"
4:48 am

"...then pushed Lysa to her death"
4:52 am

"Daaaaaaaaang! All of a sudden Sansa has turned interesting"
5:18 am

"I just had to pause it and say "What what what what what what what what" as I stomped around my living room"
6:04 am

"Dang it they just killed off Jojen!!"
7:21 am

"EVERYBODY'S DYING!! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!"
7:45 am

"I almost wish I had work today so I could talk serious GOT talk with the rest of the fan club at work!!!"
7:49 am

"Lol I'm besides myself with excitement but I'm like really tired at the same time... kinda loopy"
8:30 am
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I finally went to bed about 9:00 this morning. Staying up all night provided me with the opportunity of seeing the sun rise- something I don't see very often. There's something kind of cool about seeing the sun rise... and set! It's kind of marking the halfway point of the day.. a time in between. It doesn't last very long, and somehow each time is different.

I gave it a little thought and I think the last time I stayed up all night (without being sick!) was when I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It's actually a good time of day to get lost in a story... there isn't much as quiet and peaceful as the dead of night! The whole world asleep, the only noise is the quiet whisper of pages being turned. I remember sitting cross-legged on my bed, heavy book in my lap, neck aching from being curved over the book for hours and hours. Every so often I'd dry and switch positions- maybe lie on my stomach for a while, or prop my head on my hands. It was uncomfortable, but I had to finish! Like this morning, after finishing, I tried to relax and go to sleep but my mind was so focused on the story I had been living in for hours and hours that it was hard to drift off.

I've always been that way with books and movies that I love- I think a lot of people are that way. That's why these famous stories are so popular- the people who created them made it possible to slip into the pages or through the screen. They make the characters so real that you feel like you know them- and the characters' joys and sorrows become your own. When you finish the story, you miss them.

I also love how every author's writing voice is unique. The words they use and how they spin their tales give them their own flavor. Sometimes I crave a book's words like I do certain foods. I can think about a book for a few days, remembering some of the words and feelings, but there's nothing as satisfying as cracking the book open and tasting the words and emotions. Some books taste sad, some taste joyful. Sometimes the words leave me energized, and sometimes they make me tired. Good books leave you feeling satisfied, but the best books leave you hungry for more!

I hope I can write books like that someday.

VALAR MORGHULIS!!!

hahaa

Sarah

How to Speak Otis

I am going to make a prediction: if you do not know who Otis is or that I love her more than anything, you don't know me at all! And if that is the case, I will tell you- Otis is my dog. She saved my life! She is my best friend.

For your knowledge and entertainment, I have compiled a small list of things Otis and I say to each other constantly, so that you might get a glimpse into our amazing, one-of-a-kind relationship. I think some of these words and phrases are pretty well known and used in most, if not all, pet-owner relationships. Some of them, however, are unique to us.

Human to Dog Translations
(Words I say to her, and her interpretations)

"CHEESEBURGER"- A tantalizing piece of greasy beef hiding in a cocoon of silky, milky American cheese... and two stupid pieces of bread that she only eats because they still taste a little bit like the meat. Should be served with every meal (sans bread, if you please), but isn't because it's "unhealthy" and "will make her fat." Oh, puh-leeeeeeeease.

"CHEW STICK"- Little bones of rawhide goodness! She's only allowed two a day, sadly.

"HURRY UP!"- Sarah says this every time she lets Otis outside- a hint to go ahead and do her business. Also, less delicately: "Go pee pee!"

"HUSH"- Sarah's rude way of hinting it's not necessary to bark or growl at Nacho, the neighbor dog. Or when a doorbell rings on TV. Or when someone drives past the house. Or when the cats get too close to her chew stick.

"I LOVE YOU"- No translation necessary.

"LET'S GO FOR A RIDE!"- A seasoned car-rider, Otis loves going for a drive! She's old now, and can only get her front paws in the car. But Sarah helps her get in by lifting up her backside. Otis loves watching the town fly by and barking at dogs and cats and people, and she gets to ride a lot because Sarah doesn't like going anywhere without her.

"SCOOT SCOOT"- A not-so-subtle hint by Sarah that Otis is taking up wayyyyyyyy more than her fair share of the bed.

"SHOULD WE FEED THE DOG?" An annoying, rhetorical question.

"SQUEAKY!"- Oh, Otis loves her squeakies! When Sarah gets her a new squeaky toy, she cruelly taunts Otis by squeaking it and watching Otis react- Otis tenses up and every time she hears the squeak, she licks her chops. Finally, after seconds of agonizing torture, she finally gets her squeaky and she retreats to a corner of the room to chew on it until it is soggy and bleeding stuffing.

"TIME FOR BED"- Ahhhhhhh! The end of another chaotic, but fun-filled day! The only drama that happens at bed time is when Otis is lying on top of a mound of covers and Sarah tries to discreetly tug them out from under her and Otis gives a growl. But most of the time it's peaceful. Lying the dark, side by side, listening to each other breathing. Sarah likes to pet Otis' soft, silky ears until she falls alseep.

"WOOGIE WOOGIE!"- Woogie woogie is a fantastic, alarming word that tends to make dogs woof and howl! Otis is no exception. Perfect for scaring away deer and Jehovah's Witnesses. Originally penned by Maggie Linsky!

"YOU WANNA GO FOR A WALK?"- A journey into the urban jungle that is Raton! And evokes the emotions of: "Oh. My. Goooodddddddd! I thought we never would! Can we go now? Like, right now? I don't care if you need to put on shoes, LET'S GO, LET'S GO, LET'S GO! Ahhhh! Look! There's a perfectly good stick just sitting there in the driveway! I'll carry it! Wait, here's a better stick! I'll carry them both! AHH there was a cat! I know we have our own cats, but look! A cat! Ohh! Some people bicycling! I'd better woof at them and scare them! Woof! See that? How scared they were! Ha! Look at those dumb dogs in their fenced in yards! The lowly peons! Serfs! I laugh at them! AHHHH THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE!!!"...
______________________________________________________________

Dog to Human Translations
(Things she tells me, put into words)

*DOG KISS*- "I love you too."

*EXHALING BRIEFLY BUT FIRMLY*- An indicator of great annoyance! It is designed to show she is on the edge! For instance, if you do not put down her food bowl AT ONCE, shit is gonna go down.

*NUDGE NUDGE WITH HER NOSE*- "Hi, friend."

*THE OAT-HAWK*- The Oat-Hawk is a naturally-occurring phenomenon in which the fur along Otis' spine spikes up, much like a Mow-Hawk, hence the name. I would say it is a great indicator of danger, but she's a little highly strung at times so the Oat Hawk could mean anything from a murderous intruder to Sheldon walking past her to the litter box.

*SIGHING SOFTLY*- "Poor me. I feel so neglected."

*SPINNING IN A CIRCLE EXCITEDLY*- "Oh man, oh man, oh MAN! Hurry UP, will you?? We got things to do and people to see!!"

*THUMPING HER TAIL*- The best indicator that she is in a good, playful mood. She has a big, fat tail so it's hard to miss! My Grandpa used to tease that she had a "beaver" tail. She and I both pretended to be offended.

*WHINING A LITTLE*- "I'm hungry. I need to pee. I want to go to bed. You're messing on the computer instead of taking me for a walk." OR, most likely: "My tennis ball is stuck under the chair."

Love and dog kisses,

Sarah and Otis

BONUS! BONUS! BONUS! 

She probably has more nicknames than everyone else I know put together! Off the top of my head...

Otis. Otis-Botus. Boat. Boat-er. Otie. Otie-Coyote. Tiss. Tissy. Miss Tiss. Tissy-wissy. Wiss.

Actually, We Sell Some Herbs at ACE

I have something I need to get off my chest. I am sure that anyone who knows me even remotely is already aware of the fact, but I feel the need to make it public.

I am a dork. Yes, a dork. A dweeb! A nerd! A geek. An uncool, goody-two shoes at times. It's quite pathetic.. and embarrassing. But here's the kicker: upon first glance, a lot of people seem to assume that this is not the case! They see my crazy hair and assume that I'm some sort of a rebel, or look at my tattoos and think I'm some sort of future-less punk or hardened criminal. WRONG! I dye my hair crazy colors because I think it's pretty, and to me tattoos are just a form of personal, permanent art.

The sad truth is, I'm no bad-ass... however much I might wish I was. Don't believe me? You make me giggle. Read on!

• Quite a while ago, I'd say at least 5 or 6 years, I was eating lunch at Arby's with my sister. We were sitting in one of the old, beat up booths with the peeling plastic lacquer, enjoying our roast beef sandwiches. The Raton Arby's is always busy around noon, packed with travelers who have pulled off I-25, ready for some food and a break from the tedium of cows and their yellow-grass pastures. I was munching on a curly-fry when a boy walked up to our table. He had on a new-looking sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up and his hands shoved deep in the pockets. He rocked back on his heels, looking uncomfortable. I was uncomfortable too- there were the two of us seated at the booth, but he was only looking at me.
  "Hey, sup?" he mumbled.
  "Um, hiiiii...?" I offered.
  "You from around here?" he asked, jerking his head towards the window.
  "Yep."
  His voice lowered. "You know where I could get some herb?" His eyes darted nervously around the restaurant, then back to me.
  "Pardon?" was all I could come up with. Herb? Herbs? What an odd request! What did I look like, some kind of gardener? Why look for herbs in Raton? What kind of herbs did he need? Basil? Mint? Catnip? I did a quick mental evaluation of all the establishments that might possibly sell herbs, and could only think of the grocery store. But it's Raton! We're a small town! Our selection would no doubt be rather limited.
  I was about to tell him so when my sister saved me from complete and utter humiliation.
  "No," she told the guy kindly, but firmly. "We don't know where you can get any."
  He gave a shrug of his shoulders and muttered, "thanks", and walked away.
  I looked at her, surprised and totally puzzled at what had just transpired. She rolled her eyes at me.
  "WEED, Sarah!" she hissed. "He wanted to buy some weed!" She collapsed into giggles. I think I turned roughly the shade of my curly fry, I was so embarrassed.
• The first time I got pulled over by the police, it was nighttime and I was driving a friend home. The lights went on and I about had a heart attack. I can't explain it, but I have always had this AWFUL, irrational fear of police. I seriously wonder if I was a criminal in another life.
  Anyway, the lights went on and I pulled into kind of an alley, to get out of the way of traffic. I pulled into the small street, paused, then drove a little further. The cop behind me almost had a conniption! I think he thought I was gonna make a run for it or something. Once I had parked, he rushed over to the driver's side window of my car and demanded angrily, "Why did you keep driving?"
  "Ohh, I'm so sorry, sir!" I blubbered hysterically. "I didn't know if you had enough room to pull in behind me!"
  Afterwards (I got a warning for having one of my licence plate lights out), I told my sister about it. "Oh my god," she laughed, "Sarah, most people would be pissed off and wouldn't care if the police had room!"
  What can I say? I am a kind and courteous driver.
• I pretty much hate the taste of beer. I might have anyway, but I think it might have had something to do with a traumatic moment from my past:
  A very, very long time ago, I was sitting on my Mom's lap at the kitchen table. I was drinking an ice-cold glass of milk, and my mom was drinking an ice-cold beer. You can probably see where this is going. Somehow, I took a humongous swig from the wrong one! I just remember being absolutely disgusted, and gagging and retching and shuddering uncontrollably as my body reacted to the repulsive liquid.
  All these years later, I do like drinking some alcohol... vodka is great and Red's Apple Ale is pretty awesome, but just plain beer? Nope! No, no, no.
• I have never been arrested. Okay, let's be honest. I have never even been close to being arrested! I am that law-abiding! I am that afraid of conflict! I am that afraid of police! I've ridden in a police car once in my life, and that was when I was admitted to the Parkview Child/Adolescent Mental Health Facility. For my safety and others, I guess. It was pretty weird.
• If you frequently read my blogs, you'll know that I recently admitted to being an atheist, but I will tell you that for about a year of my much earlier life, I was the Blasphemy Police! It was because my 3rd grade teacher was married to a pastor, and anytime one of her students used God's name in vain, she cracked down hard. I picked up the habit! It was strengthened when I fell in love with "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" and Indiana Jones' father (Sean Connery) slaps him for blasphemy. Epic.

If you're my Facebook friend, you'll know that I've decided to do weekly blogs (Wordsday Thursday!) to get me in the habit of writing more. Please keep reading! 

Dorkily yours,

Sarah