In my junior year of high school, I received a note in my government class notifying me that I had a package waiting in the office to pick up after school. Yes! Yes! That is always good, right? This package being the exception. It was Necco wafers, and canned cat food. Plus one real old greeting card with childlike script notifying me, that I am 'known as a water buffalo.'

NOw, I had lots of people who didn't care for me in high school. Thought I 'walked too fast'. Thought I thought my 'shit didn't stink.' Thought I was 'hitting on their man.' But to go so far?

When I talked to my family about this at home, trying to piece together the culprit-- "ok, now is somebody saying i'm 'catty'? Or, maybe they're just suggesting that I like gross candy? Either way, this feels threatening." Nobody had any answers. It was only once I broke down in tears, lamenting all the enemies I have unintentionally gathered, that my brother admitted that it was he. JERK. But I forgave him, because he thought It would brighten my day and make me laugh, not send me into fits.

He started delivering similar packages to me on a weekly basis, until the secretary started to forbid anymore deliveries. So, he would leave me cryptic notes on my car, and I would always check behind my right tire for odd tidbits, which proved quite consistently to be fruitful.

How I love that brother. I mean, really! Brother! You make me want to move to Georgia. Stop it!