MandiLoriAnn

A very happy birthday to Robert Downey, Jr., as well as Heath Ledger, God rest his soul. I wanted to stop and say thank you to both of these great men for the way they've both influenced my life. Sadly, we lost Heath to drugs, and that same poison seriously messed up Robert. And both of their stories, the triumph and the tragedy, have deeply impacted my life. Like Heath and Robert, I was once addicted to drugs, too. I lost six years to them, and while that's awful, I remain ever grateful that it was six years and not seven. Or an entire lifetime, whether that's to my death or a lifelong dependency on poison, I don't know... and I don't know which fate would be worse. Heath scared me. He scared me straight, because I was doing the same drugs he was. I will never celebrate the fact drugs ended his life, but I am eternally grateful that his, well... sacrifice put the fear of God into me, and showed me, hey, what you're doing isn't cute, Mandi. Think about your family; are you

Received a graphic novel for Christmas from Mom, titled, "My Friend Dahmer," illustrated and written by John "Derf" Backderf. You've probably heard me talk about this one before; I've read it four times. It's based around serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer's youth; high school, specifically, told by Derf, a fellow classmate at Revere High School in Ohio. As you've all probably figured out by this point, I'm one of those people who rewatches and rereads things almost neurotically, as I feel I don't always catch everything in one - or even two or three, and in this case, four - read(s). I caught something on my fourth reading that didn't stick out to me as glaringly as it did this time, but this time, it really, really bothered me and changed my whole view on the graphic novel, leaving a sour taste in my mouth when, after Round Four, I put it down. Spoiler alert? Sorry, I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure people know. The WORLD knows what this guy did. Dudes, this is Jeffrey Dahmer we're

I went to the local Humane Society to look at cats. I've been considering getting one since April, when my parents offered to pay the adoption fee, all I had to do was select said feline. I took Mom with me, to keep me in check. First kitty we saw was an obnoxious, sweet boy named Roberto, who was completely convinced that I was playground equipment and treated me as such. Meatloaf came next, who wasn't really into me, but he was a sweet boy all the same. Sweetie was third in line, but she had a cold of some sort, and wasn't terribly interested in me, either. She was sweet and tolerated me, but sparks didn't fly for us. The fourth kitty I saw, a tiny but rather rotund little gray tabby, climbed into my lap with no invitation, purred her ass off and glared at me, as if to let me know, "you're not leaving this building without me." I resisted. I resisted so hard it hurt my heart... but I finally got up and walked out of the room. Mom gave me a look. I can't take her with me