What A Mess!


As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve spent some time away. I would love to say that it’s a time of reflection, but it really hasn’t even been that. It’s been more a time of self-loathing and re-evaluating the way I choose to do things here.

It has been almost three years since I started this site, which is an extension of one that I started three years before that. I had very defined ideas of what I needed to do and accomplish here. I had one main goal in mind: Make a name for myself.

I had it all sorted that I would build a following and that following would translate into eventual sales. That has not happened at all the way I anticipated.

Truth is, I just do not have the time, nor do I have the desire, to market the way that translates into sales. The authors that I speak with that are making decent money on sales are doing promotions as a full time job. Frankly, I don’t have what it takes to be a salesperson, and that alone has led me to be very cynical about this world online.

I do not like Authors that offer me no interaction outside of “Buy My Book” comments. I hate the amount of spam that is hogging my timelines on every social media outlet I’m a part of.

That being said, there isn’t really a clear-cut vision here on this site. Yes, anyone who reads it will learn I’m a writer/author, but the majority of my posts are music, television, or movie reviews anymore. That or me being on a soapbox preaching about whatever injustice I have come up with.

The world isn’t changing. People are still heinous and it appears at times to be getting darker than ever out there. I’ve let my voice get lost in the mix and I’m trying to find it.

So as you may notice, some of the posts in my archives are missing. I’m cleaning things up and getting back to the basics. If there is a post you’d like back, just drop me a line, I’ll gladly re-activate it for you.

Over the next few weeks though, I’m going to be re-vamping the website, re-branding if you will, and getting back to my love of writing. Nothing more.

Thanks for sticking around!

Learning Curves



There comes a point in life where explanations are no longer valid. Where time seems to keep going and you’ve wasted five or ten years doing nothing more than explaining why you haven’t achieved something.  They come off as nothing more than hollow excuses to hide the fear you feel.

I believe I have hit that moment.

I have spent several years here, talking about the importance of how bad you want something and going after it, only to hide behind the very soapbox I’m preaching from. I have sat here and told you all about the dreams I chase and things I’m working towards, the end goal being able to be self-sufficient on the sales of my work to quit my day job.

I balk at anyone who tells me they’re scared to try, I write them off as weak-minded or even worse, weak-willed, only to then do the same.

Yes I write. I write a lot. I am almost always writing something. However, anymore it’s blog posts or article related to this website or guest posts for some other site that no offense, hasn’t garnered the turnaround traffic here that I’d expected.

Does that get me anywhere? No. Why? Multiple reasons. I spend so much time focused on listening to all the people tell me that I need to build a following before I’ll ever be taken seriously, so I throw so much into this because I firmly believe in that. Then I hit moments where I hate what I post here because it’s not true to the real me in the slightest. Or then, when I write things that are at their very heart, very true pieces of me, I do nothing with that writing once I’ve finished it.  I let it collect dust and I hide it. I discount it as being any good because heaven forbid I actually attempt to put myself out there.

I, my friends, am a total hypocrite, and I admit it.

That ends now.

I sit and I watch, in veiled jealousy I might add, at all the people around me that are doing the things I say I’m capable of and yet never attempt. I’ve let myself hide behind my excuses and I actually started to believe them. I started to believe that it would only take traffic on this website to make a difference in sales.

That was quickly proven wrong when a post of mine went as close to viral as I’ve ever gotten… over 100,000 views in a week, and not a damned one of those views translated into sales.

I’ve started writing again, I’m done hiding behind all that bothers me about this world and I’m actively pursuing making my dreams a reality. I’ve shared the motto Go Big or Go Home for as long as I can remember, it’s time I actually start living by them.


So while that might mean a decreased amount of posts here, I assure you, I’m still around.


Goodbye Grey’s Anatomy



First off – let me say what a great week it has been for me as a writer. I wrote a letter to Shonda Rhimes – I posted that letter – it had over 100,000 views in under a week and got talked about on People’s website for a video for People NOW.

All in all, that is not a bad week to have as an author.

As a fan who has watched through 243 episodes, who has laughed, loved, and cried through almost all of them – it’s a sad fact when you realize that something you’ve loved for so long is the very thing that you cannot be a part of any more.

It wasn’t that Patrick Dempsey decided to leave (for whatever true reasons, we may never know), it wasn’t that our beloved “McDreamy” was killed off. No, no. It’s time to say goodbye when you realize that the writer/creator of the show no longer seems to care about anything more than her ego.

For as outraged as I was at last week’s episode (plot holes, detachment of character personalities, etc.), I could almost be willing to forgive that, had this week’s 2-hour special not been an even bigger letdown.

I will not go into the whole synopsis and breakdown of issues with this episode – because frankly, it’s just not worth it to me anymore. It’s like catching your significant other in bed with someone else – you feel a sense of anguish that you ever gave yourself over to something that can make you feel so completely betrayed.

The comments I received on the previous post were both entertaining and humbling. One reader pointed out that it was clear I have never been a widow – she would be correct. I in no way know what it’s like to lose my soulmate, to be so attached to someone and have them ripped away from me. I cannot imagine what that is like so I will not pretend to. My opinion of the cold, detached way Meredith behaved in last week’s episode was just an opinion. That opinion was made after watching her have meltdown after meltdown where Derek is concerned.

I understood things a little better from Meredith’s side finally this week though, the kind of going-through-the-motions things that she did – powering through and never giving up or breaking down. I felt however, that it went against the very fiber that was the Meredith and Derek relationship.

But… I had also forgotten the line that was replayed during a flashback of them…

“If there’s a crisis, you don’t freeze, you move forward. You get the rest of us to move forward because you’ve seen worse, you’ve survived worse. And you know we’ll survive too. You say you’re all dark and twisty, it’s not a flaw, it’s a strength. It makes you who you are.” Derek Shepherd

It’s a beautiful line – one I remember relating to when I’d first heard it and it only solidified for me then, all the reasons I loved and related to Meredith’s Dark and Twisty side. It reminded me of that as I heard it again this week.

It was one of only three things I actually enjoyed about this episode.

I won’t get into a list of the things that annoyed me because it just makes me angry. We could sit and discuss the flaws and how 241 episodes have been spent trying to prove Meredith is NOTHING like her mother to only have that flip within 2 episodes. Or the fact that I felt almost disgusted that we got a 2 minute funeral out of two whole hours, or that a year went past so as not to grieve a character who has spent 11 years in our life – to me it just further proves egos are trumping writing, but whatever. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter, it’s done.

So I will tell you my other two enjoyable moments…

Hat’s off to Caterina Scorsone! I will admit to being on the fence still about Derek’s little sister Amelia, especially when so quickly after Cristina’s departure they paired her with Owen, but her performance in this episode was everything that I think a lot of the fans felt we should have gotten from Meredith during last week’s episode (and perhaps even this one). I stayed dry-eyed through the whole thing until the scene of her and Owen on the porch – then I lost it. Amelia’s grief was felt in those scenes – it was beautifully done.

Lastly – the music choice for using the song Grace by Kate Havnevik that was used in Season 3. Loved this!


So Thank You! Thank you Grey’s Anatomy for giving me 243 episodes that enriched me, devastated me, moved me. Thank you to the entire cast for the job you’ve all done for 11 years, surpassing most shows and still being at the tops of ratings regularly.

This is goodbye though. I will not be tuning in past this point – too much has been lost and some of it in a very unforgivable way. I will not stick around to see what happens next because there is no desire to know. Especially with the almost creepy way that it felt a bit like the next big relationship could be Alex and Meredith. I believe the fandom has spoken as well – the death of Dr. Shepherd was the death of any loyalty we still had to the show.


**Image is the property of ABC Television**

Dear Shonda Rhimes



*Warning – contains spoilers*


Dear Shonda  Rhimes,


Allow me to first say, Thank You. Thank you for being an amazing writer/creator of a show like Grey’s Anatomy. Thank you for giving me a show that made me the equivalent of a sniffling fool with almost every episode. Thank you for giving me ten years of a show that will always be in my memory.

As a fellow writer, I know you walk a very precarious line between ruining your fan base with what you see as creativity and what they see as ruining their lives. I get it, I really do. However there comes a point when as the writer of such a beloved story, you have to have the humility to know, your fans define you. You have to have ability to know when your own ego needs to take a backseat to the people who have brought you to be where you are.

In writing my third novel, this was a hard lesson I learned, when the beta readers, instead of being moved and emotional over the death of beloved character, all came to me and said that they were hesitant to read anything else I’d ever write because that one character’s death was unwarranted and not at all how the story should go.

I know you’ll have haters, it’s part of the life, but your fans have unanimously voted that your bullshit send off of our ultimate favorite character is wrong, and we will not be subjected to any more of this.

Your fans have heard the rumors about the drama your lovely show has battled off-camera, we all know the George/Izzie/Burke drama, and have heard you speak about how Scandal allowed you to have a no asshole policy. You’ve even said there are no Heigl’s in the cast either. We have hoped (and prayed) that none of our lovely doctors would piss you off enough off screen to warrant a death sentence – literally – because you like to wield that power like a narcissistic hosebeast.

Sadly, this seems to have occurred yet again – only this time – you took our favorite down with you.

Let me just say this, it’s not bad enough that you killed Derek Shepherd, the one-and-only McDreamy, the man with the perfect eyes, and the perfect hair, the man that us single ladies secretly hoped still existed somewhere for us to find with his perfect chivalry and character. No, that wasn’t what hurt the most.

What pushed us over the edge was how you so heinously chose to hate-fuck your audience with his death.

When Lexi died – she got her happy ending – she got to tell Mark that she loved him. You knew that when Mark died, they were wherever dead people go, together, with all of their beautiful little moments in some picturesque heaven. T.R. Knight was a problem so you gave him a grisly death – one that broke us to our very core. You don’t like Izzie? Guess what? She gets the love of her life only to have him die a few episodes later – and then you giver her CANCER! But then – oh wait! You take it away only to have her tell Karev to piss off and she just leaves.

But with Derek – you make him do something so untrue to his character’s personality, he parks in the middle of the road after JUST WITNESSING a horrific accident, after JUST BEING THE HERO and saving everyone – on a road that statistically speaking would probably still be blocked off for clean-up – and BAM! Semi out of nowhere!

No, that’s not even the worst, because in true “Shondaland” fashion – you’re not content with just ripping our hearts out, you like to play Hannibal and fry up pieces of it and feed it back to us you sadistic twit – you make him NARRATE his own effing death!

And for good freaking measure – for the sliver of fans like me who MIGHT be able to make it to the bloody end to hopefully find Meredith waking up from a bad dream or something – you write the scene with Meredith being borderline cold and detached from the whole thing.

You have a woman who CANNOT function without her McDreamy. You have a woman who you have completely deviated from WHO she is at the heart of the character, and turned her into something that even after 10 years, your LOYAL fans will all admit – she is NOT SUPPOSED to be. You try to ram it down our throats all season how Meredith can live without Derek and I’d just like to ask you… Are you high right now? Did you go on a freaking bender and decide to write this season? It’s the only plausible explanation.

Characters evolve – they’re human, they learn from experiences in their lives and it changes them. I get it. You’ve evolved them into capable surgeons who can survive things no one else would be able to – but somewhere, for ten seasons, you’ve for the most part – kept them true to who they were as a character, but not this season. This season it was like you wrote entirely new personalities for your cast.

The comparison has been made since Thursday night’s travesty of an episode, that you are taking tips from the George R.R. Martin Game of Thrones playbook. Sadly that isn’t how I feel. Martin doesn’t just get pissed off at a character and say “Yea – you need to die today.” You know from the first episode that NO ONE is safe – ever. It’s his M.O. to kill off main characters – it hasn’t been that way on Grey’s unless they piss you off – do you see the difference?

In one single episode you have lost me, the fan girl who hangs on to the bitter end. For fuck’s sake, I still watched Supernatural even through all the Leviathan/Dick Roman storyline and that was painful – but this is just tragic. Simply because, as a writer, there is no justification for completely slapping your millions of fans collectively in the face. Abuse – even if you want to wrap it up with a bow and call it creative genius – is still abuse, and frankly, I’ve had about all of it I can take.

V – Verbigeration

Verbigeration – reiteration of cliches…

Poor Little Miss Sally Mae, the girl with no sense at all. They called her a chip off the old block, Little Miss Sally Mae. She’s the only person in that was famous in town for having to spend the night at the hospital because got stung once by a bee in her bonnet while she was lying in her bed of roses. The townspeople laughed at this problem though, calling it a drop in the bucket to the list of all that ailed Little Miss Sally Mae. She often lived in a fool’s paradise, paying attention to the women in town that would tell her a good man was hard to find.
She often felt it was a good rule of thumb to always have a little of this, a little of that, and it didn’t matter what this or that was, she just needed a little.
When the onlookers would poke fun at her, Mrs. Carmine would shoo them away. She’d explain that she wasn’t peculiar, she was just a horse of a different color. And even though she was a far cry from the most beautiful woman in the world, she had a fair share of suitors. Mr. Riddle’s eldest son John was on the top of a short list in her mind, she felt it was a no-brainer to settle down with him.
But on the day of their wedding she sat in the church, all dressed up with nowhere to go. All because John Riddle had decided that all bets were off because all would pale in comparison to Miss Rebecca Pritchett. He ran off, as happy as a clam with Miss Pritchett, even though she was older than dirt and about as welcome as a skunk at a lawn party.
At the end of the day though, after being badgered to death to meet Mr. Carson’s son Dennis, Little Miss Sally Mae finally gave in to temptation. With her bags packed and ready to go, she bat the idea round in her mind, thinking she could do worse than him, at least he had nice baby blues, and the old busybodies in town couldn’t say enough good about him.
She bit the bullet and charmed his pants off, proving that you should never judge a book by its cover.

U – Unbosom

Unbosom – to pour out – to tell freely…



Dear Sir,

I’ve agonized over writing this letter, so sure that you would surprise me, as you have in so many other ways, and correct the mistakes that were made to lead us here.

I should have never let it get this far, you may not have been strong enough to stop it, but I was.

You were my lesson… I had to learn…

I listened for years as you lied your way into my heart. So as not to damage your ego, or as not to feel the guilt of hurting the only person you claimed to be able to open up to fully, you of course did what so many do, you deflected it off onto me, put me at fault for asking to be made a priority in your life. Like how dare I, someone who was supposedly the closest thing you had to the love of your life, ask you to ever make me a priority? I must be insane.

Insanity is defined as doing the same thing repeatedly but expecting different results, so yes, I was insane. Insane to believe that you meant even half of what you said. Insane to believe that you would be the person you promised you were. Insane to believe that I held any real power in your life. I didn’t. I see that now.

I see the man you are, the person you portray, the delicate house of cards you’ve built, rooted in the web of lies you spun.

I was your fortress… you had to burn…

I guess when you’ve lived the life I have, and you’re used to those around you taking credit for your successes, it’s easier to give them away without knowing you’ve done so. It was only after you slammed that door, proved that you were just like all the people you told me I deserved more than, that I realized, I’m stronger on my own, without you.

All the things in my life that I’ve given you credit for, let you take the victory on, it’s all wrong. You made me stronger by walking away than you ever could have by staying. I know this now.

It makes it easier to say goodbye.

There’s no greater power… than the power of goodbye…

So goodbye to the man who I gave up years of my life for. Goodbye to the one who in no way had any intention of keeping his word, who proved that out of sight/out of mind isn’t just a saying, it’s words you choose to live by.

Goodbye to the ways I’ve let you infiltrate my every waking moment, control the creative process I have, control the way I choose to view the world. Goodbye to a man who clearly isn’t as strong of character as I once believed. Goodbye to someone who used confided insecurities to let yourself off the hook.

I forgive you.

T – Triolet

Triolet – an eight-lined poem with repetition of first line as fourth and seventh, and of the second line as eighth; and with first, third, fourth, fifth, and seventh lines, and second, sixth, and eighth lines rhyming.

Because this was a task harder than it looks

I should have seriously thought this through

They never taught of this in books

Because this was a task harder than it looks

Now you’re reading this wondering if we’re just a couple of cooks

I think it’s time to end this, I believe this is my cue

Because this was a task harder than it looks

I should have seriously thought this through

S – Sanguivorous

If I had titled the chapters in my soon to be released novel, The Devil’s Downfall, the word for today would have fit perfectly for one of them. So that being said, here is an excerpt from the third and final installment of The Devrynne Kaine Series, due to be published this summer!

Sanguivorous – blood drinking…


“If you can master this Esmeri, I will let you see me,” the man said.

“And tell me your name?”

She grinned looking into the darkness where his voice came from.

“Take what you can get, my child,” he said, though his voice was teasing.

It was another night of training, of dreams spent with the man that seemed to haunt the darkest recesses of her mind. She slept more now than ever before because he was a drug, the only one that understood her.

“Focus!” he snapped and she cringed.

She hated making him upset though. She closed her eyes, feeling power course through her, her fangs biting the inside of her lips. She almost always had them in her dreams now, she enjoyed them. She had fed from him again, could feel him, but never see him. The desire to do so was the power driving her on at the moment.

They stood by the lake, one very similar to the one by her grandparents’ cabin as she summoned the water out of the lake and into the air. She fought hard, the power making her nose bleed but she pushed past the pain throbbing in her head.

“Good girl,” he said softly, the grin evident in his tone. “Now, divide it, turn it into the storm clouds and put half of it back in the lake.”

Esmeri had to fight to not break her concentration at the shock of what he was asking. She slowly did as she was told and as the rain poured down on her from the clouds she’d created, the wind whipping around her, she laughed.

“Now show yourself!” she demanded with a wide smile, looking through the darkness.

“You sure you want to see me in all of my hideous splendor?”

“I doubt you’re hideous, and besides, I’m about as plain as they come so what do I care?”

This drew him from the shadows and she stepped back from him, inhaling sharply as she saw him. He was easily over six-foot tall, jet black hair that was longer, hung down almost to his chin but flipped back. He had dark features and a goatee, but crystal blue eyes. What struck Esmeri the most was that he rather looked like a rock star. He wore black leather pants, a leather vest that was open, and his arms and part of his abdomen were covered in various tattoos. If she looked close enough she could even swear he was wearing eyeliner.

“Are you like a Jane’s Addiction groupie or something?” she asked, grinning at him.

“Not what you expected?” he smirked at her, giving her one of the most salacious looks she’d ever seen.

“Not exactly, not complaining though,” she answered quickly.

Esmeri stood there eyeing him and she swore that he looked almost uncomfortable under her gaze. She didn’t understand why he was interested in spending time with her at all.

“Tell me about my powers being bound,” she said as she settled against the sand, looking out over the water and then back at him as he came to sit behind her, stroking the hair away from her neck.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asked.

She nodded, shivering slightly at the feel of his fingers touching her skin.

“When you were born, some serious things had to take place to get you here, a lot of different powers at work. That power leaves a mark on a soul, especially when it is one that is born.”

“What do you mean?” she asked looking back at him as she settled against his chest.

“Well your parents are vampires, to get a vampire to be able to have a child, a living, breathing child, that’s a lot of work.”

“Like what?”

“Powers not of this world made you possible,” he said as he kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her.

“Like God?” she said incredulously and he chuckled slightly.

“Something of that nature. He’s the only one that can give the power for someone to create life. Either way, to create you, that power infused in you to make you what you are.”

“Which is what exactly? Am I witch or a vampire?” she asked and then laughed. “Or a god?”

“You’re all of those things Esmeri and then some,” he laughed. “You were a baby though, and without any idea of that power it became too much as your human emotions took over. There was an incident and you could have killed a lot of people if it wasn’t stopped. So, your parents bound your powers, they had Ava do it, and they never told you.”

He turned, moving her to her back and laid down next to her, his index finger caressing her lower lip.

“The problem now though, is they have used that binding to leave you alone and unprotected from the people trying to get to them. They have let you believe that you are nothing in their world. It is quite a shame.”

His head dipped and his lips brushed hers and she whimpered slightly as her heart sped up at the simplest of touches from him.

“Are you angry?” he asked, pulling back to look at her.

“Angry?” she asked back, trying out the word and shook her head. “No, I understand why they did it. I could have killed someone.”

“You should be angry,” he said, his eyes darkening slightly and her brow wrinkled at him.


“Because here you are, under constant surveillance, no freedom to make your own choices, go to the college of your choice, and for what reason?” he asked. “All because you cannot protect yourself. If they unbound your powers, you could protect yourself. So I’ll ask again, are you angry?”

Esmeri thought on this briefly and shrugged, shaking her head.

“No, I’m not angry. I’m plain.”

“Why would you ever think you are plain?” he asked, his face looking hurt.

“You clearly have never seen my mother,” she said.

“I have,” he started, her eyes widening at him in surprise, “she doesn’t hold a candle to your beauty, my child.”

He moved closer, closing the distance between them, his body coming to hover hers and Esmeri felt her heart begin to hammer in her chest.

“If you say so,” she said.

“I do, and my opinion is the one that matters anyway.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ll learn soon enough,” he said.

There was something dark in his eyes, something that cut Esmeri to the middle of her soul and she couldn’t control the scream that left her lips as he pinned her, his teeth bared as he sunk them into her neck.

R – Rondeau

Rondeau – poem of 15 lines



I found the picture there, in the bottom of the drawer

The sight of the water and the cliffs making my heart soar

That’s what I need, a hammock in the trees

Sand as far as the eye can see

On the banks of a distant shore

Where my mind is quiet forevermore

I wish to know if I reach it what my life will be

Will I find peace? Will I be happy?

Will I be trapped still? Will I be free finally?

Even daily tasks seem to be an endless chore

I wish to see those far away lands down to my very core

Quiet and peaceful only for me

Life is dull, everything is a bore

This is where I long to be

I will find my freedom there hidden in the breeze

Q – Quindecad

Quindecad – Set of 15 things.



1. My parents believed I was a boy because of a sonogram that had the cord wrapped around my leg. I attribute my almost logical “male” way of thinking to that fact. A Buzzfeed quiz confirmed that I think 88% Male and 12% female.

2. As a child I was obsessed with Mr. T., Willie Nelson and Kenny Rodgers. Odd combo, I know.

3. I cry more out of anger/frustration than I do for any other reason.

4. I got arrested once due to a failure to appear in traffic court (bullshit reason to arrest someone but that’s for another post), and started asking the arresting officer information about murder investigations and how many people you have to kill before the FBI gets involved. Luckily, to corroborate the fact that I was researching things for a book I was writing, I had a copy of one of my published books with me. I ended up getting a wealth of inside information that I needed, although I do not recommend getting arrested to conduct book research.

5. The dumbest and most lame I have ever felt was sitting in my house alone, writing a chapter out and was interrupted by the dog sneezing. I said “Bless You” without even thinking and then realized I’d said it to a dog. I promptly dissolved into giggles.

6. I have more pictures on my phone of my daughter’s housecat Nik, than I do of anything else.

7. My oldest daughter tries to get me to listen to songs she likes and I typically say I don’t like them. She’ll then take a shower (bathroom is right next to my room/office) and she’ll have music going and for some reason I’ll then like them. The joke is she just has to play them in the bathroom for me to like them.

8. My siblings and I all have exactly 20 letters in our names. This was not planned for the first three of us and only discovered by my weird obsession with numbers and sequences when I was a child. My younger sister now brings up the “incorrect” spelling of her name as being my fault in order to keep her consistent with the 20 letters. To add to this, my brother and sister-in-law recently picked a name for their daughter and were going to change the middle name, only to realize without trying, her name has 20 letters in it as well. Needless to say, they kept her middle name as originally planned.

9. I walked out on a second date once with a guy I was very much interested in because he dismissed my excitement over a short story I wrote being published. He didn’t think it was that big of a deal because it was just a “hobby”.

10. I’m continually amazed at the way perception works. I could debate the idea of perception for hours on end. Example… The word most commonly associated with me by friends and family is confident. I am the least confident person I know. Perception is everything.

11. The majority of the “family” jokes with my father all stem from stupid shit I’ve said. They are now sayings that we use in almost every conversation we have.

12. My new niece is going to be the most spoiled little girl in the world, and much to my sister-in-law’s dismay, she WILL be a Chicago Bears fan.

13. The first book I ever really attempted to write was a historical romance set in London in the 1880’s. I never finished it but keep the printed copy of what I had done to remind me how far I’ve come as a writer.

14. I love storms – so much so that I spent most of my teen years chasing tornadoes and loving every minute of it. That was until this Spring when I was side-swiped by one on the highway at night. It spun my car out, there was some dents and damage and it scared the crap out of me. I’ve seen a fair share of tornadoes in my lifetime, but I don’t ever want to be that close to one again.

15. After my mother’s death when I was a teenager, I became obsessed with journaling my almost every thought/opinion for the sole purpose of giving them to my kids. I never wanted there to be a question of how I felt about something and me not be around to ask. This way they have an encyclopedia of my mind should something ever happen to me.