Blood Spatter Lab (Awesome Story)

So this morning, in my blood spatter lab we had two different parts. During the first half of the lab, we had all different wood shapes on a spring board and we had to soak a tiny piece of sponge with blood and then let the spring board snap down onto so we could look at high and low velocity blood flow as well as the blood stain pattern. (This procedure works very much like a mouse trap). Of course nobody wanted to volunteer to go in there and hold the spring board because nobody wanted to get blood on them. Of course we had full body tivex suits on so even if you got blood on you you were covered from head to foot anyway. So we had seven different spring boards and we did that. It was fun and I ended up staying pretty much clean.

After everyone was done with that part we moved on to part two. In this part we had one demonstration where they soaked a regular sized sponge with blood and then someone took a lead pipe to the sponge to see how the blood stain pattern would occur. That went well, another girl in my class performed it. The sponge wasn’t staying on the setup very well which made it hard for her to hit it very hard. We did see some good stain patterns especially from blood flying into the air and then coming back down onto the wall. It makes a much different pattern that way then if it just hits the wall as soon as it shoots up and away from the victim or from this case the sponge.

Next was the final demonstration of the day… this is where I come into play. In this demonstration someone would stand in the locker type set up and they would hold their hand up as if they were a victim fighting for their lives. Brittany is the girl who decided to be the victim. The other person (me) was going to hold a sponge of blood and start punching it right in front of her face to see what it would be like if the person were being beat to death when attacked. She stood there back towards the wall, with her right hand up.

Now to interject into the story, I was wearing a tyvek suit that was a little too short for me. My arms were practically sticking all the way out because the sleeves were so short. Go figure. That always happens to me. So Chase, one of the kids in my class (a very funny individual) says, “Cassey, Let me fix you up so you are completely protected.” We immeditely start laughing, but I allowed him to fix me up.

So he puts paper towels on my arms and starts wrapping it up and duct taping me with bright blue tape. I mean this is hillarious. So I have a completely white, full body tyvex suit on, booties on my shoes, papertowels wrapped around my arms with bright blue tape, a face shield, a hood, and to top it off he tapped a paper towel to the front of the face shield and put a paper towel on my neck. How embarassing. It was so funny. Everyone was laughing so hard at what I looked like and of course they were all taking picures. They get me set up and I’m getting ready to go in there and do some damage when I had a great idea that I should take to the streets in this get up. I should get blood all over me and then just go outside and start screaming O MY, WE’RE ALL INFECTED. ITS NOT QUARNTINED! Everyone loved this idea except my lab instructor who said no. Then Chase had a great idea that I should go over to towers (a dorm that I lived freshman year) and I should go to the brew and gold cafe and just order food like nothing wrong. It was quite comical. We laughed about it for ummm like ten minutes. I probably would have done it to. Everyone said they would follow me around just to see everyone’s reaction. Thanks to Ryan my instructor, it was a no go.

Anyway, I got a little side tracked. Back to the bloody sponge. Ryan puts the sponge in my hand and pours an entire vial of blood onto it. He says okay let me do another one. So he pours another vial of blood onto the sponge. Finally he decides one last vial of blood. By this time it is just dripping down my hand (which I was wearing gloves I forgot to mention that) and when he decides that’s enough he steps back and says have at it.

I turned and just smiled at Brittany. Then I took the sponge, held it infront of her face, and punched it as hard as I could. As soon as I punched it the first time the blood sprayed out between my hands and splashed all over her face mask. Then I continued punching it and my hands were so slippery with blood that the sponge fell onto the floor. So I picked it up and punched it somemore. It was AWESOME. Finally I stepped back to assess the damage. We were both completely covered and that stupid paper towel that insisted I tape on my face probably did some good.

The class was laughing having a good time and they took many more pictures and some people even got a video. Now getting out of this mess was a little bit more complex than setting up for it. It was a double effort for both Brittany and I and taking off our bloodied clothes was difficult but after some soap I was pretty cleaned up. It smelled awful though. ugh. I loved it though. It was sooo fun. Soon I will post pictures. I don’t care how embarrassing it is. I’m easy going.

Confessions of a Writer<3

Back to School.

Back to school
 Back to school
to prove to Dad that I’m not a fool.
I got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight,
I hope I don’t get in a fight.
Ohhhh, back to school.
Back to school.
Back to school.
Well, here goes nothing.

      So I guess this is it, from the words of Billy Madison I’m heading back to school for my final semester and it couldn’t feel more terrible. I don’t want to graduate. I mean I really want my diploma but I like  life a student. With the economy going to shit a little more every day what is out there??? Pretty soon not much. Maybe I should stay and get three more degrees? ha. I wish. Unfortunately there’s no money for that and I have to move on. With the influx of jobless people rising rapidly, graduate school is another story from hell as well. Since people can’t seem to find a job or they have lost the job they already had, there is a much higher precent of students trying to get into grad school than ever before. Great. I’m so glad that this is happening in my generation.

     As much as I love college though, I know that I am not ready to stay. I’ve got to go out there into the world and I’ve got to see what I want to do with my life. That way, going back to grad school should be much easier and I will have a better direction as too what I am going to get a master’s in. As for now I have just about three more months to figure out the rest of my life and tell the Navy that they better accept me into the information warfare officer program. Damnit!@# ha.

     With that on my mind I am still relentlessly thinking about the Russian Scholarship program. I will just die if I get it. Maybe literally? That could quite possibly be the best thing that’s ever happened to me at this time in my life and learning Russian is a main priority for me right now. Especially with the growing need for American language translators. But unfortunately I will not find out if its yay or nay until March sometime. Hopefully I don’t go crazy by then because you do realize that’s still two months away?!?

    Anyway, back to the fact that classes started today. I have class at 4:30 which should be interesting. It is the forensic capstone senior class for my major. One of only four classes that I am taking. Wow.

    Let’s just say this time I don’t think I’m going to be racing to get done. At the end I am packing up and leaving all of the memories behind. I can’t believe it. The Real World is coming and I have nowhere to run and hide. I’ll be crossing over. Nomore baby talk, no more hearing the bell on Chrismas day, Life as I know it will soon be at an end. I just can’t tell you if I’m ready for the new beginning just yet…

Confessions of a Writer<3

Tour of the East Wing of the White House: Thoughts and Facts.

In case you are unaware the East wing of the white house is the part that the president resides in. The West wing of the white house is where all the business is conducted (The Oval Office) and the North and South is the front and back.  Yesterday I was standing outside of the  South gate watching a security man and freezing in only my suit waiting to get in. We were waiting for my friends cousin P (a secret service agent) to find us so that he could give us the tour. He works at the white house at all different times and he also works at other buildings in downtown D.C. all of them not allowed to be discussed here.

Boy was it cold. I didn’t want to be bothered with a coat though and neither did the five people that I was with so we wore our suits and froze. I can’t believe how much they have already transformed the streets for the inauguration. Quite crazy. Bleachers have been erected everywhere and on all street corners in the surrounding vicinity and there are people moving things in, building different structures, and preparing things everywhere. A lot like bees I would have to say. When we found P (it turns out that we were at the wrong side of the gate and had to go to the North side) he used his security clearance to get us right in. I loved that.

We went through the building that they have set up for checking you for weapons and then down the ramp and back outside to enter the white house on the East side. yay! Walking in I immediately was mesmerized. There were two guards standing decked out in everything, guns clipped everywhere and they had M-16 strapped around their waists. Serious soldiers. P knew them and I walked up and said hello as well. They were actually very nice.

There is so much history in the white house you can practically feel it. I kept thinking of National Treasure and all the history they made up for the movies. I don’t know why? Moving down the first hallway I started stopping and looking at all of the many picture frames that had all sorts of different events encased in them. Frames dedicated to first ladies and all that they have done, different inaugurations at the white house for presidents and all of that good stuff. I read all of them, this stuff kind of fascinates me :).

Entering another hallway P said that this was dedicated to all of the first ladies. For some reason Hillary was hanging up on the main wall and then moving down there were pictures of various different first ladies that have lived here.

Fun Fact: George Washington is not the first person to live in the White House. He started the plans but died before the White House was finished. John Adams was the first president to live in the White House.

On the side we saw different parlors that they still use of course in excellent condition. On the right, was the White House library, where they have over 27,000 different volumes.

Walking up to the first floor we entered a huge room which is designated the gold room. Wow, The chandeliers were massive and everything inside of it was ornate and quite alive. All decked in gold. P said that the chandeliers are cleaned twice a year and an entire team of people come in and take each one apart a strand at a time to dip and clean off. Wow. He also said that civil war soldiers slept in this room to guard the president before the secret service came into being. They also had a picture of George Washington, the original that was in the first white house before it was burned down. They new they would be attacked so they took it out and it survived.

There are portraits of presidents everywhere. The portrait of JFK does not have his face showing. This is because the man who does all of the portraits of the presidents never saw his eyes before he was assassinated and refused to paint the picture any other way. I found it quite humorous the fact that they had JFK and Ronald Reegan in the same hallway across from each other. They might be good friends in heaven now but the Great Debate stated otherwise. They also have a picture of FDR standing up which is obviously peculiar, but apparently he was at the bottom of the steps and stood up to be transfered to a different chair and they captured a picture of it and made it into a portrait.

There was only one wedding in the white house and that was president Grover Cleveland.

The rooms are all sectioned by color. There is the Gold Room, the Green Room, The Blue Room, The Red Room, and the main hallways. In the green room P told us a peculiar story about a picture of Independence Hall that was located there. He said that someone was over in India and purchased the painting there for seven dollars. They then brought it back to the states (the story of how that happened is unknown) and it ended up at the white house. Now the painting is priceless and it was purchased for $7. Above the picture of Independence Hall is a picture of the coast and this painting is actually the first painting int he white house that was painted by an African American. I have a feeling it might become Obama’s favorite one.

The second to oldest painting located in the white house is the portrait of Benjamin Franklin and the oldest painting hangs in the presidents bedroom.

The history here is overwhelming and crazily we were able to walk out the South Entrance and stand on the steps. It felt good. Reallll good. I like it there.

After our tour was over we went down to the newly renovated Smithsonian of American history. We didn’t have time to check everything out but my focus points were science and technology, war, and entertainment.

Highlights from these sections: Dorthy’s ruby slippers, The puffy shirt form Seinfeld, World War II, Dumbo, the house of miniatures, and the Star Spangled Banner. How do they have the original Star Spangled Banner?!? No photos were allowed but it was pretty sweet.

Fact about that flag: One of the stars was cut off of it as a memorium in the 18oo’s.

I had a fun filled day of history yesterday and I enjoyed every second of it.

Confessions of a Writer<3

The Devastation From Last Year Still Hurts.

Never Never Neverr would I have guessed that I could have been so completely upset and devastated by one football game. In fact I was so hurt that even now over a year later, I still feel the pain of it. Let me bring you back to that day.

“There is only one minute to go. I glance at the clock and again we have posession. We are heading down to our goal zone. That simple rectangluar patch of grass that changes lives forever and built grown men spend all their time preventing the other team from entering. I am standing behind the goal on our side. The view is so pure I feel nothing else around me but the game. My fists are clenched in the freezing air, my body rigid. I can see my breath as it takes a rythmic beat and I feel my body slow down in time as everything else fades away. My eyes are big, there is only three seconds left and one play allowed. We are close, but anything can happen. Will we make history? I look expectantly, waiting for the miracle.

The play begins. I catch my breath and hold it, although I don’t even realize. I arch up on my toes, which are completely frozen by this point as I strain to see the ball. My man, #2 is in the end zone and #5 throws it. The ball sails through the air as the time ticks to zero. #2 jumps up in the air but at that second the other team comes in and tips the ball out of his reach. They both fall, and we do not have the victory.

I let out the breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. Absolute devestation surrounds me. I stare dumbly at the clock transfixed by the glowing numbers, willing them to change. My hands drop to my sides, I can hear the screams of anguish because the home team just lost their bid to greatness.

I rock back down to my feet. Immediately the numbness starts to settle in. My toes are stiff and unmoving, My fingers feel like they are going to break. I let my surroundings wash back over me as I tune in to the crowd. We will not be playing celebration. Tears start to well up in my eyes, they slide down my cheeks and I can’t even help it. This is the first time I’ve ever cried over football. I’ve never felt such total loss.

Everywhere there is heartache. I can clearly remember the faces. Everyone is in shock, and those of us who understand this outcome, shake their heads in disappointment. I turn back to the field, and no matter what, I can not hide the devastation from my face. I have become a true fan. As everyone starts filing out of the stadium with their heads down, I know that this is the end. And I hate it.”

To this day when that game is brought up, I immediately feel these emotions run through me. Although I hold back, this outcome might be a sore subject for a very very long time.

Confessions of a Writer<3

Cicilic Circle

So, I thought I would share this story with you because its too funny and my friends and I are crazy and I love it. haha.

About three years ago, over easter break, six of my friends and me decided to go camping at my friend E’s campsite. We had two cars because there were 7 of us all together and we packed everything we needed, Food, Lanterns, ALCOHOL, more Alcohol, sleeping bags, blankets, the works. Because it was still early spring the electric up at the camp site was not turned on and we had to prepare for all of these things.

Now let me tell you alittle bit of something about getting into the campsite. At the gate there is a 24 hour watch, in which you have to stop and present your pass to get into the site. We arrive, drive up to the gate and Liz (my Bestest friend) and I are in the second car, both in the backseat. E is ahead of us in her bright red eclipse and we are stopped much more than usual on a Friday night around 1 am.

We are waiting back there thinking, “what the heck is going on?” and all of a sudden E throws the gear shift in and spins out and turns around, breaks squealing. Wow. We follow her back down the road, where we stop at a small country church parking lot to see what happened.

She is livid. Apparaently she is carrying her dads owner pass and Perry (the chronic mastrubating guard) will not let us in because she doesn’t have a guest pass and her name is not on the owner’s list, becuase it is her dad. E’s lot is now a hot spot and we can’t use it to get in because he checked it on the map.

We are all very pissed at this point and do not know what to do because we drove all the way up to camp and we better be camping. We think things over and decide that the best way to get through the gate is to minimize the number of people we have, use the second car that is not the red eclipse and hide everything we need in the trunk.

After making all of the arrangements, we decide to put K in the trunk with all of the stuff, I will drive. Liz will sit with me in the front seat because he did not see either of us in all of the confusion, and the other four will walk through the woods a short distance and we will pick them up on the other side of the gate on the main road. This time we are going to use E’s cousins lot number as our target seeming that she was with us. Although she has a very long name and its kind of hard to spell I had to pretend to be her and get this man to let us in with the only pass we have which is an owner’s pass.

We slowly drive down the road, back to the gate, in J’s white honda civic, we had to leave half of our stuff behind in the eclipse and so basically our only priority at this point was us and the alcohol. We stop at the gate and wait for Perry (the chronic masturbator) to turn on the light at the gate house and walk out. I look at him, smile and hand over my owners pass.

“Good evening,” I say confidently letting my hands rest on the steering wheel. I tell him the lot number of where we are headed and then I tell him its located in Cicilic circle.

He asked me if I have my driver’s license with me. I say yes and hand it to him, and then he takes the license and goes into the gate house to look me up. While he is gone I slowly grab liz’s arm, barely moving and whisper, “we are so screwd.”

In my head I was absolutely freaking out! He had my license that did not match the name of the person on the list and I had nothing else to show him. We were only thinking the worst.

He slowly walks back outside and hands me the license saying that that name is not showing up, and that he has no record of it. Spur of the moment I smile my biggest smile, calmly, and look up to him. “I know why its not on there.” I say still smiling. “I’m just recently married and my license is changed now. I go on to spell out E’s cousin’s last name and he turns to go back inside and check that.

When he leaves the second time, I turn slightly to Liz and she gives me a look of terror. I said “what, what is it?”

She says. “you spelled her name wrong and its citka circle not cicilic circle. OMG.”

“shit.” Here he comes we can’t talk. He walks back to the car and we hold our breath.

“How do you spell the name again?” He asks. Liz silently tells me the letters and I spell the name again this time telling him the lot is located off of Citka Circle.

He nodds and walks back into the gate house.

A minute later he comes back and says, Ahhh, I must have spelled it wrong. I found it. Next time you come make sure you bring a gas bill or something that identifies who you are so its much easier. Have a great night ladies.

Slowly we drive off from the gate smiling and thanking him. Just around the corner I floor it and we just start laughing hysterically. We stop on the side of the road and let K out of the trunk then we speed to the campsite to drop everything off so when we pick up the other four people there will be enough room.

After we pick them up, we tell them the whole story and add that Liz flashed him to get us through the gate. We are all in hysterics and drive back to the campsite where K is setting everything up. We barely have anything now, most of our stuff is back at the eclipse on the side of the road, so we make due with one tiny lantern, and immediately start chugging the alcohol, no extra clothes.

The rest of the night was priceless, the entire time we talked about Cicilic Circle and how ridiculous we all were. Here’s to one of the best nights with some of the best friends 🙂

Confessions of a Writer<3

Can You Hear the Caged Bird Sing?

There she is, just sitting. Sitting on a stick in the middle of a cage that she has been imprisoned in for years. How lifeless she looks and plump, the wild look gone out of her eyes. They are dull now, the long ago feel of the wild gone because the memories are gone. Will she ever have that look again? The happiness as she flies over the landscape looking into the clouds as they drift in the sky and watching the dots below from the cars on the streets? What about the feel of her wings as they are spread wide and she glides in blissful contentedness? Will it ever be that good again? Her voice has long since stopped. The cheerful coo has dulled and gone out of her as she sits on the same stick day after day after day. Why are they doing this?

I can take it no more. She must be released. Quietly I creep over to her cage and open it up. She doesn’t even move because she is so unhappy. I lightly wrap both of my hands around her body and pick her up off of her stick. Her legs are dangling lifelessly as she succumbs, letting her weight fall easily onto my hand. Quietly I tiptoe to the door and walk outside. Immediately she perks up, the sun shining on her. I let her sit on my arm giving her encouragement. She ruffles her feathers and stretches them questioning if they have the ability to hold her in flight again.

She cocks her head at me as she stretches her legs readying for the the flight. Bending low she coos showing her appreciation and then lightly hops to the end of my out stretched hand. Spreading her wings she takes off glinding through the air she makes a loop and flies by me and then up, up, up.

I wish never to be a caged bird.

Confessions of a Writer<3


Excerpt from My Book.

She almost screamed with the shock that came from the frigid water. She shrank back but knew she wouldn’t rise to the surface, because then she would be a coward. Her pride was on the line and she was going to make sure she came out on the right end.

She snapped the light on and started swimming downward. She could see the massive city below, just as she had seen it on the surface, except it was much bigger now. She was right assuming that the kingdom was the only thing seen on the surface of the water. The city was beneath it and she kept swimming toward it and it seemed just out of reach. The farther she went the closer she felt she was to it.

Then she saw people, or creatures of some sort. They were just on the other side, she kept swimming but it was no use, she almost cried out in frustration. Then she felt a shadow fall across her face and when she looked up she saw the large figure of a big fish swim by. She turned back around but there was no city and no people. She started swimming upward but then she realized that she was the stupid one. The surface was so far away and she knew she couldn’t possibly make it there in the time she had left. She kept swimming anyway and was about ten feet away when the blackness took her.


“Where is she?” Conner muttered as he paced back and forth watching the waters. He had removed his pants, shoes and shirt and was ready to jump in if and when the time came. He held the necklace solemnly staring at it with regret. He checked his watch for the tenth time. It had been almost two minutes since she had gone into the water. He gave a loud gasp of frustration as he scanned the waters surface for any signs of her.

He was now kneeling over the side of the boat with the lantern, waiting. Every second that ticked by made his stomach queasy. He looked at his watch for the billionth time and it was now past three minutes. Then he saw the shadow with a big mass swim by and he couldn’t take it anymore. He set the lantern and necklace down. As soon as the necklace lost contact with the moon the beam of light vanished and so did the illusion of the kingdom. He didn’t think too much of it, he was so worried.

Before anything else happened he took a deep breath and jumped over the side of the boat. As soon as he hit the water he started kicking and went downward as fast as possible.

He saw the shadow still circling above but completely blocked the fear out because he was so desperate to find Tess. A small light stared up at him through the darkness so he swam toward it knowing if this wasn’t her then there was no hope. When he reached the light he saw that it was the light attached to her goggles. He grabbed her arm and almost screamed with joy as he swam back toward the surface. As soon as they hit the surface he kicked to the boat and heaved her inside. She needed to get out of the cold water. He hefted himself into the boat with the little energy he had left.

As soon as he got into the boat he laid Tess out on her back and checked her pulse. She had a pulse but the beats were faint and far between. He then checked to see if she was breathing. She wasn’t. He needed to get her breathing now. If he didn’t get life into her, she would die.

After checking her breathing one more time he opened her mouth and prayed to God that his air would bring her back. He breathed in two breaths three times during thirty seconds trying to get her to stir. When she didn’t stir he repeated the procedure again, she was still not breathing. He checked her pulse again and by now it was a faint tick that happened only every few seconds.He was losing her and he felt a sickening pain erupt in his stomach.

“No.” he yelled and gave her another breath. This time he hit her chest with his fist. It was so forceful that he felt horrible after he did it. Then she started coughing and water came spewing out of her mouth.

“Thank God,” His relief overwhelmed him as he helped her to sit up. She was alive.

Excuse Me Please, But Your Teeth are in my Neck.

I can’t help but talk about Stephanie Myers and her trilogy starting with Twilight, New Moon, and Eclipse. (She is in the process of writing more novels for this series). If you haven’t read them and love a good romance vampire/werewolf love story than this if for you. ha. I have never been moved with more emotion than when I read these books.

Twilight New Moon Eclipse

Because I am reluctant to give anything away in the stories I won’t go into much detail about them except to say that they are AMAZING. Even more amazing though is the way that Stephanie Myers came to write this book. According to her web page she had a dream about one of the scenes in the first book and that is when she awoke and knew that she must write. This is someone who became successful because of a dream she had and decided to write it on paper and kept writing until everything fell into place.

She had really no plans before this to write and if she did she didn’t have time to act on the impulses with her life and family. She went onto Writer’s Market, Made an account, and sent a query out to about eight different agencies. And who signs her of all people? Writer’s house. Writer’s house is one of the top dog literary agencies out there. They have signed people like Nora Roberts (whom I’ve read almost all of her books) and Ann Seabold author of “The Lovely Bones”.

So this dream, this scene that she had in her head led her to become a number one best seller and she has gone on to write two more books and even other books with new ideas. Although I have been rejected by six people at Writer’s House I can only say that Stephanie is the woman who made me get my ass up and write a query letter. I had no idea, before I went to her website how I was going to go about this whole process, and it was really good to hear how someone so successful did it. So thank-you Stephanie, hearing about your success gives me great hope.

Favorite Quote:

“One thing I truly knew—
Knew in the pit of my stomach,
In the center of my bones,
Knew it from the crown of my head to the soles of my feet,
Knew it deep in my empty chest—–
Was how love gave someone the power to break you.”
La Tua Cantante—> They call her my singer, because her blood sings for me.

[Confessions of A WRITER]

You Say Hello and I Say Goodbye

So, I just received my fifth rejection letter in the mail today. bummer. You must know that I did send five letters to different literary agents at Writer’s House, so I did receive the exact same rejection letter back four times just with a different signature on it each time. So technically that should count as one right? haha. My next stop in the writing world is going to be the Christopher Little Literary Agency. It’s located in London, but they do business all around the world.

There were some famous books to come out of there so I might have a shot. Luckily this time I get to send the first three chapters of my book. So now they will be examining my actual writing instead of just a query letter. I haven’t sent the envelope out yet mostly because I have three big tests coming up, so the next batch of queries is going to have to wait until spring break.

Confessions of a Writer<3

Form Letters

I never thought it would be so hard to write a form letter about my book to send out to Literary Agents. Truth be told: its freaking hard. Think about it. Aspiring authors slave over their manuscripts for months and sometimes even years until they think it is the best it can be. And then, they are only able to write a one page letter about a 402 page book explaining the whole book to someone whom doesn’t actual understand your writing style. The objective is to make them understand and love the book like you do. Its freaking hard!

For me, I spent four days writing that form letter and I think I might have gone about it all wrong. It is so hard to only write one page worth of information because not only does it have to entice someone to want to publish your book, it has to include all the other information like how long it is, and your contact info which takes up the minute space you have available in the first place.

It is said, that 100 rejections is okay, for whatever reason seeming that 100 rejections sounds like a freakin lot so I guess the most you can do is just keep sending them out. Its just very hard to take a 402 page book and explain it in a 1 page paper. That’s the beauty of the business though, nobody has time to read anything these days.

So enough with the ranting, but I am revamping my form letter to make it better than ever, so maybe then it can get noticed. I suppose I’ll write more later, I’ve got Russian work I need to catch up on. Peace.

Confessions of a Writer<3