I know who the mother is from How I Met Your Mother

Well, let's just say this is a very educated guess. I had no where else to really go but I had to share my insight so this was the first place that I thought of. In the latest episode 'Legen-daddy' where Barney finally meets his Father I noticed some things.

But first, let's recap what we know about the mysterious mother.
1. She has blonde hair
2. She is in college
3. She has a roommate (meaning she does not live at home)
4. She is very pretty, obviously since her roommate said that every guy fell in love with her.
5. Ted meet the mother at a wedding where he was the Best Man

So, here's what I pieced together from the latest episode, the mother is Barney's sister Cassie.

1. Blonde hair. Now it's not for certain whether or not the sister has blonde hair but considering Barney has blond hair I am going to say the chances are pretty high.
2. Barney's father had said that his daughter Cassie was in college.
3. She wasn't at home for the dinner probably meaning she was away at school in her own apartment
4. She is Barney's sister. Need I say more?
5. If rumor is true and it is Barney's wedding that Ted is Best Man at it would make sense for his sister to be there, where Ted would meet and fall in love with...Cassie.

Ta da!

I am...

I am a nerd because I read and a geek because I play video games.

I am a loser because I do nothing and a dreamer because I want fame.

I am a bitch because I speak my mind and an emo because of my hair.

I am a liberal because I care and a prep because of what I wear.

I am a moron because I have tattoos and a fatty because I eat.

I am a sinner because I swear and a dancer just because I move to a beat.

I am a goth because I like black and a hippie because I love trees.

I am a failure because I make mistakes and judged because I breathe.

If only people could see that you cannot stereotype me.
There is more than you can perceive so look beyond the image of society.
I am me and that's the only label I'll ever be.

©2010

Evenfall Excerpt

Yes, I realize I am more than likely just rambling to myself but I figure maybe someone will come across these posts one day and like them. So, I will keep on writing and posting them :)

Anyways, Evenfall is the book that I am planning on publishing on my own website (when I get it up and running) and I thought I would share a small excerpt from it.

Flicking on the light switch, I avoided the mirror and headed straight for the sink. I wasn’t in the mood to see what a mess I must have appeared to be. The faucet groaned in annoyance as I twisted the warm handle until a light brown liquid spurted out of it. Making a face I waited until the water was clear before sticking my hands underneath and splashing the warm water onto my face. There was no soap so I did my best hoping that my palms would be enough to rub away the dirt.

A small hand towel hung neatly to my right. Taking it in my hands I shut off the faucet and dabbed gently at my face with the soft cloth. When I felt as clean as I could be I quickly ran my fingers through my hair and decided it was time to look into the mirror. To my surprise there was nothing there but a painting of an elderly woman surrounded by playful children. I stared blankly at the painting before curiously turning around.

Behind me stood a full-length mirror framed in a thick, wooden border. Tiny yet intricate designs that looked similar to the tattoos on Xander’s body were carved deep along the edges running along the entire frame. It was incredibly beautiful, just like everything else in the house. However, the girl that stared into the mirror stuck out like a sore thumb. It felt as if I were staring at a stranger.

My chocolate-colored hair was a matted mess. Twigs and dirt stuck clung to it in various places as if I were intentionally trying to start a terrible fashion statement. I brought my hands up to the end of my hair before running my fingers along the curves of my mouth. The pale pink lips were scabbed and splitting, the taste of salt rested upon them. Careful, I dragged my finger up to the heavy bags under my unusually dark-colored eyes. It looked as if I had stepped out of a horror film.

Sighing, I leaned in closer to the mirror and began to pick at the twigs and dirt that rested inside the nest of hair. For a moment my reflection blurred a few moments before returning to normal. Blinking in surprise I tried to dismiss it as a result of lack of sleep but the image before me began to blur once again. My hand reached out to touch the mirror’s surface and the distorted reflection started to do the same before it completely vanished.

“What the-!?”

“It’s a mirror of truth.” With my mouth agape, I turned slightly to see Xander leaning against the frame of the open door. He too had on a change of clothing, almost similar to what he wore before. The only thing that had really changed was the color of his shirt going from grey to black. Pointing at the mirror he then said, “It shows you who you really are.”

My eyes flickered back the empty mirror. It was strange knowing you were looking in a mirror but not being able to see yourself staring back at you. “So, you’re saying that this mirror is telling me that I’m nobody?”

Xander laughed lightly and shook his head. He pushed himself off of the door frame and walked into the bathroom. His reflection appeared in the mirror, his body pressed against mine. I inhaled deeply for two reasons then. One, the idea of him standing so close made me pathetically nervous. And two, his appearance in the mirror was incredibly shocking.

Two beady black eyes stared at me on a sickly-grey face. The facial features were that of Xander’s yet I couldn’t get passed the odd fact that they seemed slightly distorted. His ears were rather pointed, sticking out from under his untamed brown hair that hung around his neck. They weren’t nearly as surprising as the sharp, toothy smile that came my way. It was a smile that a lion would give its prey if a lion were able to smile.

Inhaling deeply I tried to look away but felt forced to continue staring at the shirtless, grey skinned creature behind me. The intricate tribal-like tattoos that covered his body were a deep blue, almost glowing. The giant scar that ran from his neck to his shoulder blade was a pale, white under the florescent lighting. His wings spread from out behind his back, larger than I had seen them before. The decaying skin that clung to the bones vibrated as the wings opened to their full length.

The image before me terrified me and yet I felt little fear stir inside. My heart was racing, pushing against my chest and still I refused to tremble. The very idea of the creature that stood behind me murdering his own Prince didn’t seem as if it were unlikely and in fact I could have easily believed it to be true. So why then at that moment did I not let the scream that locked inside my throat escape? Any fool would have known to be afraid so why wasn’t I?

Two blood-stained hands began to reach up, wrapping around something in front of them. They were veiny and clawed; the nails sharp and black. They looked as if they were made of very expensive glass. It took me a moment to realize that the thing the bloodied hands were grasping at was me.

Against my will, my frozen body was spun around to face a completely normal looking Xander Helms. I swallowed hard, my heart ready to explode from my chest. So many questions paraded my mind but none of them made it their way out of my mouth. Instead they stayed locked inside my tightly shut lips.

Xander smiled gently, his dimples pressing deep into the side of his cheeks. “I am what I am, and even though I try to hide it I am and always will be Dark Fae. You my dear Lena just don’t know who you are. When you do your true reflection will show.”


And there you have it. :)

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It is ALIVE

Yes, I am alive. Hi all, how are you? It has been so long since I've last written anything. Well, I decided to log on to tell you all that I am planning on creating my own website where I can share my stories and writing. I've been trying rather hard to become published and quiet frankly I am tired of hearing no. So, if the publishing agencies won't give me a chance to prove to them what I am capable of then I'll have to do it myself.

I haven't had the chance to create a site yet. Still working on the details to tell the truth, but I will post a link when I get it set up.

Anyways, how are you all doing?

Words

I wrote this for a friend a few years back who had committed suicide on January 16th. Suicide and cutting yourself is never the answer to any problem. There is always someone who cares about you.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

She's alone in the dark corner,
Outcasted like a foreigner.
Tears stream down her face,
As she cuts to the base,
Of her arm and her wrist,
Her bloodied fingers curling to a fist.
She feels like no one likes her,
That no one will concur,
But it hurts me to see this girl,
Thinking she is less than a pearl.
She's better than the dirt that hurt her,
Even if she isn't sure,
He's just one guy,
Full of lies,
Not worth her time to shed a tear,
Or sit alone in her bubble of fear.
He may have called her names,
Like whore and slut just to get his way.
The words they sting so she cuts to release the pain,
Feeling as though its the only way to stay sane.
But I wish she could see,
What more she could be.
There's no need for her to think of a pistol,
When she should realize she shines like a crystal.
And emerald worth its dime,
Where rude names are left to fade in time.
I wish she would put down that knife,
And see what she is missing in life.
There's more to it than sleazy men,
Who I honestly think need to be locked in a den.
There are good days and bad,
happy and well just plain sad,
But there isn't a day where you should hurt,
With that blade cutting past your shirt.
Metal on skin belongs to piercings,
Not hurting and names of cursing.
She needs help to understand,
That this world isn't wrapped in bands,
Of lies and rape and pain and tears,
That not everything seems like its in front of a mirror,
Images aren't perfect but they aren't always ruined,
With bloodstained tears of painful wooing.
I only hope she sees the light,
And takes this chance to stand and fight,
Before she hurts herself with more than just a cut,
And I'm left to stare at a casket closed shut.
With words I should have said,
And all I've got are tears instead.

Creativity at its finest

So, today I found myself on the bored side and sat down and tried to write. Of course, nothing spawned but I did come up with an interesting idea for another story.

You: *Sigh* another story, Kayla!? Don't you have like ten that you're working on?
Me: Erm...*whisper* nine.
You: Sorry, didn't catch that...?
Me: Anyways....

It is actually a rather cute idea I think. I'll probably end up just sticking it up on fictionpress though. :)

So, it would be about this guy (nameless for now) who is rather on the lucky side. He lives a good life but comes across a begging gypsy. She offers to read his palm but he shrugs her off since he doesn't believe in that kind of "hocus pocus" and because of it he is cursed. All these things that are bad superstitions (black cat crossing your path, broken mirror, walking under a ladder) come true and every time he sees one something bad happens.

That's as far as my though has progressed but I love it. Not sure if I'll write it or not but I had fun with the idea and thought that I'd share it :)

On another note my newest photo on DA is up.



My kitty is a natural model, wouldn't you say?

:) Have a great night everyone