Tag Archives: Scooby-Doo

Some Things I Find Disgusting #1

Hi there!

How are ya?

I don’t mean to rain on your happy parade, but one of the things in life I love, is happiness.

For people. And animals.

If you’ve been patient enough to stick around with me and my random babblings, you’ve probably picked up on how deeply I love animals. And how outraged I am that they are so routinely harmed for fun, out of indifference, to preserve traditions, or peer pressure.

The only way to fix our world is to first become aware of some uncomfortable truths.


Scooby-Doo teaches us this truth every episode: humans can be monsters.

We’re not going to touch on the “why” of this or the “how” or any of these other things.

Sometimes I simply want to foster awareness.

Awareness, a cold hard look at reality, is the only way we can jump to…

Acceptance, when we can still love life and accept at the same time, that there are horrendous things that also exist at the same time – is the only thing which can lead to…

Action. Nothing big. If you’re one of the amazing athletes who have recently spent thousands of dollars on helping animals or a You-tuber who spreads awareness in hopes of donations to help the animals in your area – I commend you. You have my awe and hope restored. But most times, us everyday people can do little things to help. That is what changes the world. The combination of all different kinds of people doing what they can, small or outlandishly huge.

Lift where you stand. That’s all any of us can do.


So here is one thing I’d like you to be aware of. Perhaps you can pass it on and help illuminate others.

Also, I promise there will be adorableness at the very end too!

Because happy animals is the whole point of spreading the awareness. 🙂



This guy breaks down what the Running of the Bulls is. Once they get into the pin at the end of the run, he breaks down what ALL bull fights are.

If you don’t want to watch the video – which is graphic and you see animals bleeding and in pain – I’ll break it down pretty simply. In a bull fight, the bulls are stabbed repeatedly so that it will be hard for them to work the muscles in their back, hence making it hard to raise their heads. They are in shock, in extreme pain, their organs are stabbed and slowly shutting down, they’re losing lots of blood, and basically slowly dying while a man waves a red piece of cloth at them and stabs at them, and the crowd cheers.

This is a horrible piece of culture which is beloved to many people.

I don’t personally care what color you are, what your culture is, what personal choices you make. People are all people. We all matter. But so do animals. And anyone using the excuse of tradition, your behavior is disgusting to me.

These animals die alone and afraid, in intense pain and confused. Cheered at, jeered at.


So knock it off!

Do what you can to end this disgusting end to an animal’s life.


And now, moving on to the cuteness…


Here are two rescued bulls showing that they’re lovely little sweeties. Also, I know the last one isn’t a bull but that cow is just adorable. They really are souls. They feel and they love. They’re not here for us to torture. They’re here to live their lives alongside ours.


Now, I’m certain you’re wondering if I’m a vegetarian. I am not. I do eat meat. But I LOATHE the way our animals are kept, tortured, and finally killed. There is a better way to do this. There is a humane way to gain the food we need from living, breathing animals. They deserve a life, one free of misery and pain, before they feed our way of nutrition. And their deaths should be quick and painless.

I agree with this man:

(email for credit)


What do you think? Are you a vegetarian? Are you disgusted by the routine torture of animals, whether in a factor farm or in the suburbs?



Filed under Animals

Non-Static Tomorrows

The more I try to put a magnifying glass to “who I am” and try to figure it out, the farther away I fall. The vaguer the answers get.

I know who I am. Even if that means, right now, I don’t have all the answers about myself or my motivations or my deep, dark, hidden secrets from myself.

The more I try to peg down who I am in specifics, the more I lose my ability to define my identity.

Who I am, is someone who changes.

Every day.


Today, I don’t have all the answers.

I’m the chick who cried in a room full of people who understand her, and didn’t want to get the headache that might turn to a migraine because she cried. The chick who doesn’t cry out loud often. But feels safe in that room.

Today, I’m the gal who prepared a small lesson to teach tomorrow about self-reliance and tied it in with how to fold an origami heart.

I’m the person who listened to her neighbors shriek at each other and wondered if I could put them in a story and fix them.


Today, I’m Daphne. I was Daphne yesterday. I’ll be her tomorrow.

But today, I’m not the same as yesterday and I won’t be the same tomorrow.


Today I’ve struggled with depression and anxiety and come out of it with a touch of serenity in my rib cage. I’ve been honest with myself, even though it hurt, and felt better for it.

I’ve felt a touch of hope. Hope that I’ve changed. Hope that I’ll continue to grow.

I’m the one who read this post and felt an immediate connection with her words.

Who laughs a real laugh, content, even though my insides are a mess.

The same Daphne who hasn’t taken all of her Halloween decorations down yet, because hey, bats and pumpkin-skeletons are part of Fall too!

The gal who took her dog out in the freezing cold and thought of all the homeless who must be shivering in old clothes, and wished she could save the world. The same gal who realized a lot of people don’t want to be saved. Not really.

The same Daphne who grinned at herself. California isn’t freezing, not compared to other places.

To me, it’s freezing.

I am the writer who watches Scooby-Doo reruns while writing about death, rebirth, pain, suffering, hope, and a woman who fights herself to freedom.


Yesterday… I don’t want to think about yesterday. It hurts. And the hurt slides back in so easily, just at the mere mental mention of it. It pervades.

But the Daphne I am today is okay with that.

Today I have choices, I’ve decided.

Today, I can be all of me. Vulnerable. Raw.

I keep telling you this. Because I know it’s true. I feel it from the soles of my feet to the hollows behind my eyes.


Meet Daphne Shadows. She takes a selfie about once a year. So she's terrible at it. Don't judge.

Meet Daphne Shadows. She takes a selfie about once a year. So she’s terrible at it. Don’t judge. And she’s been crying. Also, she’s upside down. Again.


I know where I’ve been, what I’ve been through, how I’ve coped, how I’ve survived. What I was thinking, what went on inside me even as I smiled and people bought, all the time, that I was doing fabulously. I know what’s brought me joy. What I’ve tried and failed to do. What mistakes I’ve made. I know how I’ve grown. What I’ve accomplished.

I know who I was yesterday. Last night. This morning. A few hours ago.


I know who I am.

Even if I don’t want to own up to it.

I am the Daphne who expels misery via the ink she types or pens, embedding it into pages.

I know who I am even if I focus on what I feel are my failings and can’t seem to find any successes until I talk to someone else who truly knows me.

Even if I hide who I am, from myself.


I know who I am. I am learning to be all of me, out loud.

Even if I don’t know a thing about my tomorrows.


Tomorrow I’ll be different. Tomorrow, I’ll be the same me.

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Filed under Stream of Consciousness

Things I’ve Learned From Some of My Favorite TV Shows


Lessons Learned from Scooby-Doo:

Don’t split up.

If you play video games too long, you’re going to turn into a zombie.

Werewolves are actually green.

If dogs could talk, life would be a lot more interesting.




Lessons Learned from X-Files:

If there wasn’t something to see here, there wouldn’t be security guards making sure no one saw anything.

Persistence gets you somewhere. (I’m not entirely sure where or if you’ll like it, but it’ll get you there.)

Some aliens are really freaking short.




Lessons Learned from Bones:

A human being can be both extremely intelligent and simultaneously common-sense-challenged.

Ice bullets don’t work. Blood bullets do!

Don’t take pregnancy tests at work.

Just because someone is in a coffin, doesn’t actually mean they’re dead.



Filed under The Odd Bit

I Don’t Really Have a Title Today

I don’t like old movies. So sue me!

They seem really cheesy to me. I try really hard to like them, I do. I go into it wanting to like it. Just not in the cards. I mean, I haven’t seen all the old movies I’d like to try. I’d love to rent old creature features and see if I like those. Some old horror movies I hear are better than the current ones, and not cheesy in acting or special features.


Which is weird considering I love “The Librarians”, a totally cheesy tv show. Although, it doesn’t have the same atmosphere as old movies and shows. Perhaps that’s it.



My favorite tv shows:


Criminal Minds


NCIS New Orleans

The Librarians



I am uber, crazy, probably psychotically, picky. So if I don’t absolutely love a movie, book, song, or tv show, then eh.


I’m supposed to be working on a birthday card right now. And I had something else to blog on, but I’m feeling too  hemmed in with structure on my blog at current.

So I’m kicking that to the curb.


Sometimes putting pen to paper is the only thing that can calm the torment in my soul. Siphon the pain in my head and chest and splash it across the lines in such a way that, for a little while, I am released of its absolute control.

Sometimes its the only thing that can sop up the misery.

Perhaps that’s why I don’t often write about the things which make me happy. I want to soak in those feelings, not give them away to ink.


I think your favorite anything can tell a person a lot about you. For instance, I’m pretty sure that list of my favorite tv shows says something about me. I’m just not sure what. I can’t pick favorites with a lot of things. Like movies and music and books. It depends on my mood and where I’m at in my life. It changes too often to really try to pin down, day to day. Besides, there are too many. I’d just have to list them all. And then I’d want to edit the list every five minutes.


(I finished that birthday card before finishing this post, by the way.)


What are your favorite tv shows? Can you pick favorites for things like books, movies, songs?


Filed under Stream of Consciousness

Why a Writer? Daphne through the Shadows


My friend recently asked me how I decided to become a writer.

I’ve had different answers for that at different times. All of which are true, still.


The first thing I thought of was this post, which I wrote two years ago:

Why I Write




It amazes me how much I’ve changed. That post was messy in so many ways. But the basis of the post – those three reasons – hold true. So if you want the answer (or for this post to make sense), go read it. Don’t worry, its short. And if you want to scroll down and just read the three reasons, that’s all you need.

But there’s more to it than that. It’s deeper. Even messier – just, in a different way. More complicated.

If there’s one thing therapy is showing me, it’s how I’ve hidden myself… from myself. It’s kind of like waking up. I’m finding out more about myself moment to moment.

One of the things I’ve learned is how I belittle and cheapen myself to keep truth from feeling so real. I laughed and used humor and made sure nothing really reached my heart – or anyone else’s.

Causes me to come off as air-headed and clueless. Basically, superficial and naive.

It’s a misrepresentation of who I am. For one, I’m a lot darker than I let on. Yes, I’m also the opposite – I watch Scooby-Doo reruns and get giddy over donuts. 😉

I’m happy but I struggle with depression. No one exists in singularity.

My tendency to gloss things over is fake. Happiness and strangeness is not. So that part’s not been fake, I assure you. I just don’t show the darkness or ugliness.

And let’s get something straight. Darkness and depression are two different things. I suppose I’ve been hiding both.

Darkness is balanced by light, and when I stop trying to suppress a certain part of myself, I remember that.

It’s strange to be around so many people and to feel unknown. Stranger yet to feel unknown by myself.

But I’m working on it. I’m finding the more I find, the more joy creeps into my life. Being whole tends to do that.

Any who – back to the question.




How did I decide to be a writer?

I don’t really have a precise answer. I remember being upset and watching the roof of the car, the stars of the early morning sky, and curling up on my side, wishing I was somewhere else. I’d detach and *poof* I’d imagine the most ridiculously amazing things. I was always in my head, somewhere existing beyond reason and rules.

I painted reality with my own overlay of life and vibrancy, beauty and thrills.

I grew up this way. I got upset, felt uncomfortable, got bored, wanted more – I went somewhere else in my head. As a result, I don’t ever remember actually being bored.

I think it simply grew within me as I grew. I remember wanting to be a writer in kindergarten. I don’t really remember much before then at all, except for times I’d imagine myself away.

So it makes the most sense to me, for me to say, I decided to become a writer before I even knew I’d decided. I was really young. That’s all I know. There wasn’t a precise day where I said, “I want to be a writer” and the decision was made and my life was forever changed. No one person or situation inspired me. Nothing suddenly triggered it.

Instead, it just always was. I don’t think I ever really stopped and went, ‘huh, I want to be a writer’.

I just knew I did and I wrote.



When did you become aware of who you were and what you wanted to become?

Do you hide parts of who you are from yourself or others?




Filed under Stream of Consciousness

4 Rules to Follow in Order to Stay Alive on Halloween

Okay I love Halloween, a.k.a. Samhain, so I figured I’d round up some ways to stay alive (and keep all your body parts) on this fine night.


Although technically, it’s three nights. Samhain (the origins of Halloween) is:

December 30th – the end of the ancient Celts’ year

December 31st – the in between day

November 1st – the beginning of their new year

So if you really love Halloween, you can technically drag it out. Because I totally don’t do that.




Now let’s get onto how to survive.

(And if you’re one of the people reading this thinking to yourself, “Halloween is over, move forward” or “what are you doing?”…. don’t make me stab you.)



Life Saving Rules:

  1. Wear a costume!

Why? It keeps you safe from other creatures that would love to rip your intestines out and use your toenail as a toothpick. That’s actually how the costume wearing started – blending in for your own safety.

  1. Hand out candy.

At least for a little while. That way no one will be tempted to set your house on fire. Er-egg your house. Yeah, that’s what they’ll be trying to do. *can of gasoline falls out of my hands*

  1. Don’t blow your Jack O’ Lantern out.

Or someone will stab you. With a broken lollipop. In the neck. And then cut you up and hang you around your own lawn because I totally didn’t steal this one from the movie and also didn’t ruin the beginning for anyone who hasn’t seen it.

  1. Always check your candy.

I remember, since the time I was a munchkin, I’d trick or treat, come home, dump my candy out on the ground and check it. Why? Because razors, poison, and mean people. Duh! Did I mention chocolate gremlins? You never know! *creepy eyes*


And in the case that you find yourself in a horror movie, here are a few random rules to follow (it could happen!):

  1. Do NOT be blonde.
  2. Do not be busty.
  3. Take OFF your high heels before you run.
  4. Pay attention to the ground while running.
  5. If you do trip, do not lay on the ground and wail and/or stare at the ax murderer coming your way. Get up and run!
  6. Do not call out, “hello? Is anyone there?” Yes! There’s someone there. And they want to find and kill you. And guess what? You just helped them with the finding part.
  7. If you end up stranded, get a flat tire, or run out of gas, DO NOT, I repeat, do not, go look for help in the creepy, empty, bleak house. Just don’t do it.
  8. And just in case you missed every episode of Scooby-Doo ever, do NOT split up.






What Halloween rules have you been told since you were or a child? Or which ones do you like?

Have you ever been in a horror movie? 😉 Are there any dorky horror movie rules that you absolutely love that I didn’t add?

Did you have fun on Halloween?

And last but not least – did you stay alive and in one piece on Halloween? Or is this your ghost?


Filed under The Odd Bit

What is the Point to Horror? Paranormal? Fantasy?

When people hear me say that I both enjoy and write paranormal, fantasy and horror, they normally ask me variations of one question (with a really funny look on their face).

“Why?” “What?!” “Why on earth!”

Well, let me spell it out for you.

I’m weird.

Okay, so other than that, there are two main reasons (and they have nothing to do with cleavage or gore). 😉


ONE, I love it. I grew up with it. My author bio kind of gives that away (that’s over there on the right sidebar).

I remember curling up in the big, cushiony armchair and watching old monster movies. I remember reading books and hearing myths and scary stories of the unexplained and unusual.

I remember the thrill, the fear I felt for the characters, sucked into the story and nervous for them. Not surprisingly, I liked the monsters right off the bat. I loved the creatures in the darkness, the oddities and strange beings that didn’t act or react like humans. Sometimes I wanted them to win, sometimes I didn’t. It depended on the circumstances.

I’ve always had a vibrant imagination. Movies, books, and art that centered around paranormal or horrific creatures always captivated my mind. And I instantly went somewhere else, escaping the mundane and living within places and stories fantastical and dark.

I got wrapped up in a world so different from my own filled with shadows and secrets. Only, when I finished that book or movie, read another, finished it, I started to realize that the two worlds weren’t so different after all. Which brings me to reason number two.




TWO, I love the truth of it. I don’t mean the gore or the monsters. I mean the messiness. The human nature, the real monsters glaring up at us from beneath the masks of fangs and talons. Horror and fantasy allow us to learn about ourselves, about society and our deep seeded beliefs, identities and secrets. It just goes about it via a roundabout way. And it uses a lot of fake blood.

It’s easy to see the monsters when they’re literally monsters. Vampires, werewolves, bogeymen, fey creatures, ogres, etc. They aren’t us, so it’s okay for us to loathe them for the evils they represent. It’s okay to fear them, to be disgusted with them. And to show them no empathy or compassion. Because they’re pure evil, not something we understand or care to try and understand.

We don’t like looking the truth head on a lot of the time. Fictional monsters let us learn things about ourselves and the world we inhabit without realizing. Not until we’re done anyway.


I like a total of two cartoons. One of them is Scooby-Doo. The original cartoons, I mean. Not the newer ones with stereotypical characters and teen drama. Yeah, I’ll watch it. But I don’t like it like I do the original cartoons. Fred isn’t a dunce and Daphne (NOT who I was named after) isn’t a damsel into distress. Klutzy and danger prone, but not helpless and ditsy. Just saying. Cuz that obviously isn’t a sore spot with me. 😉


(He’s guarding my flashdrive.) What on earth do I have Scooby-Doo involved in the “horror/paranormal/fantasy” post for? A little odd, right?

Not really. Scooby-Doo symbolizes the same thing good horror, good myths and lore symbolize.

The real monsters are the humans (kicking a dead horse, right?).

And that is exactly what horror movies, books, and lore tell us. the good ones anyway. It’s showing us humanity in all its pitfalls and lowest points.

But (and this is a really important ‘but’) it also shows us the rise up and beat down of the monster inside – only in the movies it’s the physical monster outside of us that symbolizes this. Fear gives us the chance to show love. Horror gives us the ability to become what we always had the potential to be. Whether that be good or bad is up to us.


What is scariest of all? The unknown.

The unknown brings us terror and imaginative ideas of what could be behind that curtain. Good fantasy illuminates some piece of this, gives us something we’d never dare asking for.

Fantasy shows you the worst possible thing that could happen, brings you face to face with your worst fears and steps back. Challenges, adversity, suffering – they give you a run for your money, show you a little bit about yourself as you go.

Now add a creature created from the depths of all your base fears, something that makes your skin crawl, your brain try to shut down or reason it away. And that will really tell you something.





I grew up loving the monsters, the creatures. The fear. Getting all creeped out, reading in the dark, the only person still awake. And yes, horror, fantasy, and paranormal are three different genres or way of explaining movies or books, but I find them intertwined all the time. Figured I’d add them all.

I like it.  You’ve got it, really. But why bother? Horror, fantasy, paranormal. It all holds a mirror up to us. The humans. Human nature. Human beliefs and desires. Our truest self resides in the recesses of our darkness, a place not many of us go often. When something gets under our skin, we learn something about ourselves. You can’t illuminate darkness until you’ve seen it.

And what about the gore? Well, life isn’t pretty. It’s messy. So I guess that covers that. (But I don’t like the cheesy movies with buckets of gore done for shock value and ratings, just so you know).



Do you like reading/watching horror, fantasy, or anything paranormal? Writers – Do people look at you strange when you tell them you write it?


Filed under Stream of Consciousness