Twenty Random Facts About Yours Truly

There’s more to me than just the Wolf, more than just the keystroke upon this blog. So here are some random facts about moi:

  1. I spent two years in high school studying French. Unfortunately due to lack of use of the language most of it is lost on me.
  2. I’ve grown up and spent most of my life in Southern California. Five years ago I made the decision to move across state to the North end. It’s one of the best decisions I ever made.
  3. In a little over a year I will be graduating with my Bachelor’s in English.
  4. I’m 5″4 in height, and though that it is commonly known as the average height for women, my family and friends like to mock my shortness.
  5. I’m a Bibliophile. I tend to collect books more than I read them, unless I find the story particularly striking or engrossing.
  6. I currently have one tattoo, a quote on my left chest/clavicle area.
  7. Surprising to most, I adore Science. I tend to excel in my studies when I find it most fascinating, but due to my hindrance in Mathematics I never pursued a Scientific based career.
  8. My favorite colors have changed many times over the years. It’s currently tied between sea green, pine green, and lavender.
  9. I currently drive a silver Ford Focus. Her name is Speedy.
  10. This Autumn I hope to find a hiking buddy and get back into hiking among many of the trails and falls by my home.
  11. Besides writing, I’ve been fascinated with photography. I adore candid photographs and scenic nature spots. I want to be able to take my camera along with me to all of my adventures.
  12. My “dream career” has changed several times, but has been consistent within the field of English.
  13. I am a mother. A step-mother to my wonderful son.
  14. I am an avid video gamer. My first system was the Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES).
  15. Bananas with peanut butter is my go to breakfast (both as themselves or in a smoothie).
  16. I’m a firm believer of “don’t knock it till you try it”.
  17. I am not formally religious. I no longer believe in God, but I believe in Nature and finding peace within it.
  18. I am Bisexual. I am sexually attracted to males and females.
  19. Keeping my home clean and neat is a daily activity that brings me peace and pacify my fears.
  20. I adore learning new words and utilizing them in my everyday vocabulary.

Thank you for reading!



Incurable Wanderlust

The first time I ever tasted the euphoria of travel was when I went on a plane by myself to see my grandmother on the east coast. I was thirteen at the time, petrified and yet excited. Again, a few years later, my family I went together to the East – traveling to the District of Columbia and taking the train to New York City; where I watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in person.

Those were the first large trips I’d ever taken. My family and I always did small trips to Disneyland or out to Santa Barbara to see my late Uncle when we were younger. My move to the Northern portion of the Golden State was much less travel but more a necessity, and yet it sparked more desire within me.

When I met Savitar, I confessed to him my love for adventure, and desire to travel and see the whole world. He turned my spark into a flame.

“Wake up and pack your bag. We’re going on an adventure.” He told me one morning, before he took me out to the coast. The waves crashed a long the beach and the salt licked my skin. I was enveloped in everything I’d ever loved. It was the first of our many adventures together.

From trips up North to Oregon, to the Coast and along the sandy beach, to Nevada, four corners, and further to the Midwest, to the mountains of Colorado. We have been to so many wonderful places: trying local coffee, wandering around bookstores and trying hole-in-the-wall diners. We both have an incurable desire to see everything.

I get jittery whenever a new adventure comes to fruition. I mark places down on maps when our friends tell us “we MUST go there”, and save every penny in a jar as we look at the best routes to take.

In a little over a month from now, we’re heading on another grand adventure. A two week road trip beginning in San Francisco to view the Legend of Zelda Symphony before we drive out West to his home state.

I am excited, elated, and hope to capture every moment together as we have done so many times before.

My thirst for adventure will never be quenched, and I will forever desire to see as much of the world as I can. To have someone beside me who shares in this passion, is more than I had ever hoped for.




It was just under a year since the day we met, that we became more than friends.

When the Fall Semester began, I was eager to see him again. We kept in contact over the summer months through Facebook, and couldn’t stop myself from smiling whenever I thought of him.

When I did see him again, I didn’t say “hello.” I was exiting my class and was walking across the stone path toward the Midway when I saw him. He was walking in tangent with another female, and even though my eyes lit up and I wanted to run towards him and give him a hug- I didn’t. I stopped.

I felt ashamed. I didn’t know this woman, and made the logical conclusion that she was his girlfriend, and that it would be stupid of me to even consider him and I ever becoming a couple. Up until this point, I never shared my feelings with him. I wanted to, but believed deep down then that he did not feel the same way. I told myself not to bother, not to try.

So I turned on my heel and walked away before he could spot me.

I don’t remember who initiated the next step. But before I saw him again, I found myself flirting with a different man. This man was also a student of the college, a military veteran. He was attractive, single, and available. But he wasn’t what I wanted. Wasn’t who I wanted.

I found myself texting Savitar again. I found myself wanting to be by him, missing him; his company. Even if we never became a couple, I missed our times we shared together. I enjoyed spending time with him, and he seemed to feel the same with me.

He invited me over to his apartment. I met him at the back parking lot, as he stood by his car waiting for me. I was blushing, nervous, and yet so calm finding myself in the seat beside him in his black Honda once again. I felt almost at home with him.

Shortly after I spilled it to him, telling him how I felt. Telling him of the fears I had by telling him this, about how I thought he was already taken for.

He felt the same way about me, but warned me. He warned me to not get mixed up with someone like him.

I didn’t listen.

I’m a Mother

More honesty, I’m a Step-Mother.

When I was younger, I wanted children. More importantly, I wanted a son. I imagined him with messy brown hair, and deep sea blue eyes. I never wanted a daughter, I grew up in a home full of men- and though I did enjoy my dolls and dress up, I couldn’t see myself buying all pink accessories for a daughter I don’t think I could love.

I don’t have children of my own. I would have if I had stayed with my ex, he wanted children so badly. I recall him saying once, “I hope our daughter will grow to be as beautiful as you are.”

Shortly after, I took a long look at myself, and realized I would not be a fulfilled person with children. I would more than likely hate myself for making such an unnecessary decision.

I was still a child then, I had huge dreams and hopes for myself and my future and I knew then that a child would take that away from me. I do not despise children- I stand up for them daily. Wishing I could protect them form the true horrors in our world- but I know I would not be happy if I brought one to life.

I was twenty when I met Savitar’s son. I was twenty-one when I took on his role of step-mother, as I tiptoed around Savitar and his ex-wife, not knowing what I could or could not do in regards of rearing the child.

Now, four years later, this child is MY son. I did not birth him, I chose him. I chose to take him to and from school, I chose to feed and clothe him, to love and cherish him. His mother and I get along, she is always grateful when I make the hour long drive on weekends to drop him off or pick up. When Savitar and I give her gas money if she drove our way, or aiding in birthday celebrations.

The child will be sixteen soon, and he is already showing the qualities of a man. He is much like his father, but I am grateful that he does not wish to go down his father’s path. He is a wonderful boy and he will be a wonderful man one day. I am grateful to have been part of his like thus far, and hope that no matter what happens, if he could stay in my life.







He does everything with himself in mind. The end goal is his own, and he will take what he wants without any mind to those around him.

He is exactly what you need him to be. Chatty. Brave. A confidant. A great listener. But that is only for him, and not for anyone else.

He is not able to showcase emotion, he doesn’t feel them, nor does he understand their purpose. He is very logical and looks at everything with every single possibility and outcome in his mind within a matter of seconds.

That’s why he is great at his job, and someone that not only everyone wants, but wants to be.

In four years I’ve seen him for what he truly is, but what he is at his core is too much for most to handle.

He is what some may call a Psychopath. Scientists have changed this term to be more socially acceptable: anti social personality disorder.

But how do I know this? He showcases all of the traits of one: insincere charm, grandiose self-perception, impulsiveness and irresponsibility, they tend to not follow the rules or bend them to their needs, and juvenile delinquency. They do not react normally to events such as death, tend to fake emotions, and are liars.

So why is he the Big Bad Wolf?

The Wolf lures in his victims through manipulation. He brings Red Riding Hood down at her core without directly addressing her. He reads her, her facial expressions, body language, tone of voice. He does this to find her weakness and uses it against her to lure her in.

When someone hears psychopath, they think of monsters. They think of serial killers and automatically shove them in that category. Many people refuse to accept that they do in fact exist and walk among us.

As if to showcase his grandiose, he chose the name Savitar, the name of a God.

He is my Wolf in the Woods.





We Both Enjoy Coffee


Warm and smooth in texture, the seeping hot spout drips black gold into my mug, as he had just finished preparing our morning press. I walked behind him, wrapping my arms around his torso and pressed my face into his back. He was warm, and smelled nice. He looked back at me, his blond hair a mess, “how are you this morning?”

Four years later, after confirming our friendship in the front seat of his car, we live together in a home, drinking cups of coffee together as we wake up, only letting the best coffee pass through our lips. He laughs, knowing there was a time where I detested the taste, and argued that this would never become a staple of my daily life.

And here I sit at our family desktop computer, my Alice in Wonderland mug beside me, the Cheshire Cat now fading, and only his grin remains.

Death wish Coffee. It was Death wish Coffee that turned me to “the Dark Side”. Both the companies namesake and their Valhalla Java are always stored in our kitchen pantry. The companies Valhalla Java is more crafted for a pure flavor with caffeine the afterthought whereas Death wish, though having a great taste, is more for a caffeinated pick me up than a flavor chaser.

Being a person who suffers from Generalized Anxiety Disorder, high caffeine is something I need to watch out for, limiting my mugs of morning brew to no more than two, and cutting sugary soda pop out completely.

We enjoy trying new blends, as this was not a staple of his when we first met. He used to adore Peet’s Coffee, and still grabbing a bag once in a while, Death wish is our more preferred option. But we find ourselves at local coffee shops quite often, small chains and Mom & Pop storefronts to try and keep us running for all of our adventures.


He played the part he knew I wanted, the role I needed then. He was kind, generous, and seemed to have a solution to all that worried me. There was a calmness to him, whenever he walked within a room, the air would cease to electrify, and all eyes would go to him.

We had a class together. We met out of chance, as we both wandered around our classroom, our professor egging us to find a group of people to work with for the entirety of the semester. Our group consisted of seven persons, including ourselves, and as we all stood together in the hallway, we wrote our phone numbers down on a sheet of paper as we inquired of places to go to in town the following day, to “get to know one another better”.

He suggested a place. A restaurant/bar in town that served hamburgers at “half off” on Tuesdays, and we all agreed. I was new, and quiet. I piped up, mentioning that I did not live in town, and would need a ride to get to where we needed to be. I felt ashamed to ask, and almost worried to be a burden to my other group mates. He looked over at me, and offered to take on that task.

I grew close to him within those few months, consuming every drop of word that escaped his lips. I knew of his marriage and divorce with his ex wife, how he decided to return to school to advance his career, how he was raised deep within the woods of Colorado and had a son who almost mirrored him in image.

My friendship with him grew deeply, but my insecurities were present, and mocking me for desiring someone who was above me. I was still merely a child, living with my parents at the time, with no real sense of the realities of the world. He was beautiful and successful and though he was in a rut at the time, he knew exactly how to get everything he needed or wanted.

The semester was nearing an end and I’d grown fearful that I’d lose my friend. We all know how these things work: you’re in a group together for a class and are on friendly terms, and once the time is up- you go your separate ways, never to speak with one another again. I didn’t want that to happen. One day, we were spending time with one another and he offered to drive me back to campus so I could be on time for my next class. I paused before exiting, my heart skipping a beat. I looked over at him, and asked, “Are we friends?”

It was bold, upfront. To the point.

“Yes, of course we are.” he said, smiling.

And we hugged, but it was extended, I didn’t want to let go.