Flying Squirrels

Whoa, it's been more than two months since I've posted a blog! I have been spending all my free time trying to finish the first draft of my novel before school starts back in a few weeks. I am happy to say that I am down to the last 10,000 words or so, and I am ITCHING to get this thing done. So many people have basically laughed in my face when I told them that I wanted to be an author, and I want to prove them WRONG. Like one day, I went to the doctor for a stomach virus, and as he poked and prodded my abdomen, he asked what I was going to school for. I told him creative writing because I am going to be a novelist. (I have stopped saying "want to be a novelist" and have switched to "going to be a novelist". Because, you know, I just AM) Anyway, this doctor chuckled at my mention of writing books for a living, and said, "So what are you planning to do when that doesn't work out?"

I am completely aware that becoming a successful novelist is rare, and that it is a long, grueling, make-you-wanna-pluck-out-your-eyeballs process to write a book and have it sold to a publisher. And I'm also aware that even if a book does sell, it might not hit it off with the general public. The only people that may buy it in stores are my mom, sister, and few friends. But I'm okay with that. Writing is what I love. And do you think I am going to invest years of time and sweat and tears into something that I haven't researched??? Probably not. Hey doctor, did anybody laugh at you and ask you what you were going to do when med school didn't work out? Probably not. So back off and give me some anti-nausea medicine, already. 

Anyway, I know I've said it in my posts before that you shouldn't let other people negatively influence your dream, no matter what it is, I will say it again: DON'T FALTER. Especially if you tell people that you are going to do something crazy like write books or become a singer or cure cancer or eat the world's largest meatball, people are going to roll their eyes and laugh at you like you are a silly little dreamer with no sense of reality. But that's because the majority of the population are like lemmings. They follow what the person beside them does and try not to stand out any way that might make them seem different. But guess what? You ARE different. You ARE special. Make that person feel like they aren't cool for being different instead of the other way around. 

I so didn't mean for this post to become so long. It was meant to be a fun story about my experiences with flying squirrels (yes, experienceS. They follow me), but my frustration with the world for being mean to creative people spilled out a little, and it's hard to stop it once it starts. So after the page break, I will leave you with some funny stories. :-) (I'm telling you, my life is weirdo. Craziness stalks me)



Hurricane Flying Squirrel
(Setting: My bedroom, right after hurricane Katrina, where a tree has fallen on our house the day before, leaving a slight hole in the roof)

I had just started to drift off. It had been a long day of hurricane yard cleanup, and I was exhausted. I snuggled up to my pillow and and was just beginning to see the crazy images that accompany my REM sleep when I felt something moving. UNDER. MY. BED. I was instantly jarred awake, and terrified at the thought that there was something down there. Or someone. I don't know why I thought someone would be hiding under my bed instead of stealing our t.v. and stereo set from the living room or something, but seventeen year old me was suddenly convinced that there was someone waiting to hack off my fingers, just waiting for me to fall asleep. But there was no way I was going to let that happen. 

I slowly and ever so quietly stood up on my bed and turned on the light, ready to swing. But lo and behold, instead of a murderer crawling out from under my bed, it was a flying squirrel. It had obviously climbed in through the hole in our roof, looking for a safe place to sleep; and the little booger was FAST. I watched as it darted across my room and ended up clinging to my curtain. All I could see were huge terrified eyes staring back at me, and I instantly felt bad for the poor little thing. So I decided to CATCH IT.( I just wanted it to be free) So here I was, feeling all humanitarian for trying to save the flying squirrel, as I carefully approached it with a pillow case and the intent to bag it and take it outside (without hurting it, of course). But it turned it's head and growled at me. Or maybe I imagined the growl. But in any case, it JUMPED at me. I wasn't quite expecting that and when it landed on my pajama shirt and began to crawl up my body, I freaked out. Now by this time, my parents had heard the commotion and came bursting into my room probably expecting a murderer to be cutting off my fingers. 

We chased that damn flying squirrel for over an hour before finally getting it to flee out of the front door. My room was upstairs, by the way, so it took some maneuvering to get it downstairs. But all in all, it was a funny, memorable experience to add to our list of hurricane good times. (Hurricanes can be fun sometimes) But that was until the squirrels followed us to Tennessee.

Smoky Mountain Flying Squirrel
(Setting: rental cabin in Gatlinburg, TN, family vacation)

It had been a LONG day. My entire family (my mom's brothers, sisters, and their children included) was staying in a giant cabin in the mountains for Thanksgiving. When we left for the trip two days before, I had been suffering a slight cold, but was feeling okay. Well, after a change in altitude and snowy weather, my cold escalated into congestion so bad it caused pleurisy- which for those of you who have never heard of it (because I hadn't until the ER visit) is basically where the lining of your lungs becomes inflamed and you can't breathe; and when you do try to breathe, it feels like a knife stabbing into your shoulder or back. Anyway, we ended up trekking across four cities to find a hospital in an unfamiliar state, seeing as how I couldn't breathe and all, so I could get a breathing treatment at an emergency room. It was three in the morning before we finally got back to our cabin, and we got back to find that all my uncles, cousins, and brother-in-law had decided to play a drinking game while we were gone, and were all passed out in various areas. My parents, sister, and then-boyfriend-who-is-now-husband and I all collapsed into our beds with the intention of falling instantly to sleep. Now this cabin was big, but not quite big enough for everyone to get their own room, so my sister, brother-in-law, boyfriend, and I were all bunked in the same room. My sister and her husband got the bed, and my then-boyfriend-who-is-now-husband and I were on separate air mattresses.

I was all coked up on ER meds and had no trouble falling asleep. I was just starting to drift into la-la land (these things always happen at night, don't they?) when I hear my sister whispering furiously about something. I tried to pull myself out off the sleep stupor to find out what was wrong, and I hear her shoving her husband and carrying on about "hearing something above her head". Her husband's response? "SNOOOOOOOOOOOORE." 

So she proceeds to yell at my then-boyfriend-who-is-now-husband to turn on the light because something is crawling above her head. He stumbles off his mattress- stepping on his glasses in the process- to turn on the light, and lo and behold: my sister got her first experience of the huge, terrified eyes staring back at her. Only this time, the squirrel was literally dangling above her head. We were sleeping in a loft, so the ceiling slanted down right over their bed and the squirrel was about five inches above her face. Needless to say, my sister did not need the squirrel to jump on her before she freaked out, like I did. So again, my parents (and all the aunts and uncles) came rushing into our room, probably expecting a murderer to be chopping off our fingers. The squirrel disappeared back into it's tiny little hole in the corner of the room, and we were unable to catch it.  And my sister's husband's response to all this action: "SNOOOOOOOORE". (He will never live this down, BTW)

And for the rest of the vacation, my sister slept with a flashlight in her hands, shining it all around like a crazy person every time she heard the slightest little noise. Good times. 

These are actually only TWO of my flying squirrel stories, but this post is already long enough, so I'm going to leave it at that. 

LESSON OF THE DAY: Watch out for the squirrels. They watch you while you sleep.