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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 1 year ago

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Track Marks And Dial Tones I

Summary: A late night call from your informant sets off an unexpected avalanche of gut-wrenching events…

Pairing: Clay Roach x fem!cop!Reader

Word Content: ~ 2.5k

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat!, 18+!, Lots Of Hurt And Hardly Any Comfort, Slow Burn, Addiction (Duh), Substance Abuse (Obviously), Used Needles, A Belt Used As Tourniquet, Clay's Disgusting Living Situation, Clay Being Absolutely Fucking Miserable, Crying…So Much Crying, Talk About A Wilfully Induced OD, ANGSTY AF

A/N: The dove isn't just dead anymore, it actually started decomposing a while ago…

I'll add the appropriate content warnings with the progress of this story!

For anybody interested: I've made a Spotify playlist to go along with the fic!

Find Part II here!

Tagging the horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine

Somewhere darker, talkin' the same shite

I need a partner, well, are you out tonight?

It's harder and harder to get you to listen

More I get through the gears

Incapable of makin' alright decisions, and havin' bad ideas

- Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? By Arctic Monkeys

"Shitbum." Pale, white letters on the screen of your vibrating phone proclaimed for the 3rd time tonight.

With each new buzz of vibrations passing by, your eyes narrowed down on the display. There wouldn't be anything good in store for you if you picked up, that much you knew for sure, but him calling three times in the span of an hour and not in one manic rush of back to back calls that ended in nothing but halfway nodded out gibberish on your voicemail was something new. Not one singular voicemail had been left so far and after your mobile phone fell back into motionless silence you waited for a notification to pop up, for the screen to inform you that "You have one unattended voicemail by Caller ID: Shitbum." But nothing like that happened. Just another unanswered call in the purgatory of your push-up notifications.

With curiously arched brows, you forced yourself to take your gaze from the phone and redirect it to your bedtime read. It wasn’t an entirely fruitless attempt, you even managed to read half a page before the screen of your phone flickered up again. You saw the display glowing in the corner of your eye and all of your attention shot right back to the device.

"Jesus, fuck…" You muttered under your breath as you rolled your tired eyes at yourself while practically snatching the phone from the nightstand.

"I need you, please." The message read as soon as you unlocked the display.

For a moment you just stared at the words, frowning and your lips subconscious pursing slightly.

"Help." The cold casing vibrated again in your touch and you felt your stomach dropping.

Clay had never asked for help before, never, not once. He might have been a dope-sick informant but he always carried his head high in his very own way of snarky arrogance and stubbornness.

"Shit, Clay. What did you do?" It shot right out of your mouth as you slid out from underneath your warm duvet and reached for your thick police jacket.

Right now you couldn't be bothered to change out of your checkered PJs, everything happened automatically; your phone got shoved into the jacket while your other hand searched through a drawer as your feet pushed themselves into a pair of sturdy winter boots.

Your fingers held onto as many clean rigs as they could while your pockets got stuffed with FTS kits, the usual you brought with you when you stopped by to check in on Clay. It happened maybe once or twice a month and absolutely nobody at the Boston PD would be pleased with knowing about it but you didn't really care. You saw something in him, something more than just a fucked up addict.

The pockets of your jacked nearly teared open with how full you had stuffed them as you leaned down to tie your shoes before rushing downstairs to grab the keys to your car from the kitchen table. Your mind was almost blank, no thoughts just operating as you threw the door behind you shut and nearly ran towards your car.

At this time of night the streets were practically empty and you very clearly speeded down the set of blocks separating you from Clay's flat...if you could even call it that. His housing situation was that of a stuffy, damp bunker that's been trashed and vandalized for god knows how long. Clean or organized were attributes that didn't exist in his realm of clutter, debris and moldy dishes.

Cold wind hit you right in the face as you left the comforting warmth of your car and hastily stepped down a flight of stairs to the subterranean flat.

"Clay? It's me. Can I come in?" You spoke through the old, creaky door and knocked loudly to make your presence known.

No response. You knocked again.

"Clay?" You heard the tremble in your own voice and you were met with nothing but silence again.

"Fuck that shit." You huffed, took a step back and kicked your heavy boot against the door with such vigor that it easily cracked out of its lock.

The fact that your intrusion wasn't accompanied by just any reaction whatsoever had your stomach dropping and twitching in every possible direction. Jumping right into that nervous cramping right beneath your lungs, a pungent yet sweet stench of decay swept out of the open door right into your nostrils.

"Oh god..", You gagged and dry heaved, stumbling back and coughing a lump of saliva onto the wet pavement, "Oh fuck…ew."

You tried to cover your mouth and nose with the sleeve of your jacket but it was little to no avail, the foul odor nearly burned in your nose as you took careful steps through the trash filled hallway.

"Clay?" You called out again, receiving no answer once more.

As soon as you turned a corner into the hellhole that could be described as his "living room", you learned why.

"Oh no! You better fucking not you fucking idiot!" It rambled out of your trembling lips as you saw his statue propped against the wall, head dangling to the side, unresponsive.

With your heart hammering against your ribcage, you practically jumped over all the rubbish piles and crouched down in front of him.

"Clay! Hey!" Your hand touched his sweaty, cold to the touch cheek before all your self-control left you and you smacked him right in the face. No reaction.

"You better fucking talk to me, Clay!" Your fingers searched for his pulse point under strands of knotted, unkempt hair as your professionalism crumbled into nothingness and a flash of tears dreaded to erupt from your lower lash line. You forced them back with every ounce of countenance you could gather whilst a sharp breath escaped your mouth as you felt his pulse. Low and slow, but still very much there.

"The fuck you think nodding out on me like that, shitbum?" You scoffed, plopping down on your ass with a heavy sigh, a bunch of music and TV magazines crumpling under you.

"Let's get this mess here sorted out.." With a wrinkled nose and furrowed brows, your gaze wandered to his left arm, the sleeve being rolled up until above the crook of his elbow.

"Okay, here we go…" You murmured, hoping, imagining that he could hear you as you raised your fingers to slowly loosen up and carefully pull the black leather belt, he had used as a tourniquet, off his arm.

"Almost done…" You placed the belt next to you before you turned back to him and drew the plastic body of an empty syringe out of his arm.

For a brief moment you just looked at it, in anger and in fear to equal parts, fighting the inner urge to just smash the needle into the ground until it would break. Instead, you placed it with the belt and sat back down, taking a look around. The flat was…bad, even for Clay's standards downright messy. It gave the heavy impression that he'd lost the plot since the last time you had seen him about 2 weeks ago. Your mind hardly knew how to respond to your eyes recognising his floor being littered with used fentanyl test strips but it brought an awkwardly lopsided, faint smile to your lips. At least something. He was using them for a minimum of harm reduction.

As you let your eyes roam through the room, you eventually discovered the source of the deathlike stench filling the flat. Even from afar you saw a thick layer of not only green but black mold practically growing out and eating through the thick paper package of some Chinese takeaway you'd brought him 2 weeks ago.

"I paid for those noodles, asshole." You huffed under your breath, a desperate attempt to ease yourself from some of the relentless anxiety raging in your chest.

The box of rotten noodles wasn't the only thing that doused this room in its odor. Countless small cardboard boxes of strawberry milk with their counterpart straws were piled up high in a corner close to the open arch leading into the dirty misery that had been something resembling a kitchen once.

From early on, you had learned that cheap stir-fried noodles and strawberry milk of all things acted as the two main pillars of Clay's cranky diet and you never really tried to change anything about it. Who were you to tell him what to do only because he worked as your informant? Overall, you just felt content knowing that his still severely malnourished body got any sort of culinary input at all.

"What am I gonna do with you now, huh? Jesus, Clay. Freaked the shit out of me." You turned your body back towards his statue, your fingers carefully rolling his sweater back down to his wrist, your fingertips lingering on his sweaty hand for a moment before pulling back.

For a good few minutes, you just looked at him and pondered over what to do now. He'd freak the hell out if you'd drive him to the ER and the ER would most likely just not give much of a fuck since he wasn't straight up ODing. You also didn’t want to leave him here like that. There must’ve been a reason for him to call and text you the way he had and you'd do jackshit before you knew what all this was about.

"Mhmmm…." Your ears perked up the very second you heard the dragged out, low groan trickling out of Clay's mouth.

"Hey there…" You practically whispered to him, careful not to spook him.

"The fuck…are you doing here?" His speech was a little slurred but he seemed to come back slowly.

"You called and texted me, Clay." You answered to him calmly whilst pulling your phone from your pocket.

Before you turned the unlocked display towards his face, you tuned down the brightness.

"Remember?" He swiped his hair out of his face and squinted at the screen, pupils blown out wide.

Clay didn't answer right away, his fogged up mind trying to piece together what had happened during the last 2 hours. The expression on his face told you that he clearly didn't like what his jumbled thoughts came up with.

"Oh….oh, no…." He stammered, sluggishly trying to sit himself up straight again, the features of his face contorting into a pained frown.

While still holding up your phone, you looked at him attentively, following how he clenched his jaws as his eyes got covered by a watery sheene, indicating the growing distress he found himself in.

"It's okay, I promise. I'm here now and I'll help you." You sought to calm him down as you put the phone back into your jacket and tried to smile at him.

It wasn’t a happy smile by far but one of affirmation and understanding.

"No…no, no…" Clay suddenly started to scurry away from you, unaware that his back was already pressed against the lifeless concrete wall.

"No, what? Please talk to me." You felt your brows arching up in worry.

"This is pathetic.", It ruptured out of his mouth in a choked back sob, "You shouldn't…I wasn't…fuck."

"Hey, now.", You carefully scooted a little closer to the dirty mess of a mattress he was sitting on, "Clay, take a breath and please talk to me about what's going on."

"Fuck off!" He spat back, turning his head away from you but you still could see a few vagrant tears running down his cheeks.

"No." You stated bluntly, stopping in your movements to give him room.

"I-...I can't do this shit anymore..", Clay's voice rendered sore and out of breath with every word, "Fuck…I-...I wasn't supposed to wake up."

At his sudden confession all the pieces in your mind fell into place and you were painfully sure to feel something breaking inside of you. A jolt of emotional hurt and plain dread ruptured through your chest, threatening to knock the air out of your lungs as the man in front of you lost his posture entirely and slumped into you, wailing and crying violently.

You caught him in a loose embrace, you recognised your body doing it but your mind could hardly catch up with what was happening.

"Oh God…I should've texted you back. Should've picked up the damn phone. Fucking hell, shit, Clay, I'm so sorry." Your own voice started cracking and flailing dangerously as the weight of what had presumably happened doubled down on you.

"No…no. I'm not your…not your problem." He sniffled into your shoulder, his weak body shaking with every heavy sob erupting from the depths of his lungs.

His croaked out words served yet another fatal hit against your already rapidly crumbling composure. You felt like simply breaking down right here, too, the need for crying and screaming all the pain and guilt out of you growing stronger with every desperate whimper of his that cut right to your bones. However, you forced yourself to keep your shit together, simply had to for Clay right now.

"Issok…", You hummed into the crown of his head, carefully tightening your embrace around his slender shoulders, "You're not a problem or a burden to me. Don't you ever think that, Clay."

Your tender words were only met by a new, reckless wave of breathless cries.

"Help me, please, help me." He whined out, the realization about the reality of his own situation heavy in his voice.

"I will, I promise. You heard that?! I promise!"

#rory culkin #clay roach #city on a hill #clay roach x reader #clay roach x you #clay roach x fem!reader #Track Marks And Dial Tones

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viktorviolettaenterprises · 10 months ago

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Glock Pistols Series (Tribute to Gaston Glock)

GET YOURS HERE!!!

Just remastered some old works of the Glock Pistol Series as a tribute to the late Gaston Glock, the inventor of the Glock Pistol that has significantly contributed to the firearms industry since 1982. Rest in peace, sir. Your legacy will remain in our hearts, and your contribution to the firearms industry, especially pistols in Late 20th Century. Sorry For Late Tribute Post. I Need to Find the Best Glock Model for this Tribute and Improving the Existing Models Thank you @exzentra-reblog @coffee-cc-finds @bdangkingfish @evgenyesipov1999 @sparkiekong @helenofsimblr @igglemouse

Known for its distinct shape like a box, Glock emphasizes its tradition of perfection in almost every design they issue. The journey began in 1982 when Glock Ges.mbH introduced their 17th patent, which would later be known as the Glock 17. It is a 9mm-chambered pistol that would change the mindset of the sidearm industry. Although not the first polymer-made pistol (the first was an HK VP70), it offered the value of a lightweight, high-capacity magazine pistol. The Glock 17 entered the US market in 1986. Despite initial rejection by both Glock and the US Military as a replacement for the 1911, Glock started to capture the attention of American police departments (PDs).

By 1987, it began to be adopted by police departments, with others following suit in issuing Glocks as their standard sidearm. The key to Glock's success in police departments lies in its affordable price, ease of maintenance, numerous interchangeable parts, and, of course, the double-trigger system. Although it may be challenging to execute a follow-up shot quickly, it ensures safety when the pistol is not in use. Additionally, this sidearm is popular for deployment alongside the Secret Service.

In this case, VVE covers some of the Glock series to the SimVerse usage, like :

Standard

Standards Glocks are full-sized pistols that are designed for duty and home defense use. Barrel lengths are 4.49 inches and 4.61 inches depending on caliber. Standard-sized Glocks are some of the most commonly sold pistols and strike the right balance between size, weight, and controllability.

Glock 17

The Glock 17 is the original 9×19mm Parabellum model, with a standard magazine capacity of 17 rounds, introduced in 1982. Glock also offers a version of the standard magazine which incorporates a longer "+2" base plate to provide a capacity of 19 rounds. Also, a 10-round version of the standard magazine was created for markets that restrict the magazine capacity of handguns. And, Glock offers an extended 24 round (with flush base plate) magazine for the Glock 17. Finally, the Glock 17 can use the Glock 18's extended 33 round (with +2 base plate) magazine. The base plates for the extended magazines can be swapped out to create 26 and 31 round magazines as well

Thank you For @effiethejay For NYPD Uniform!

Glock 22

Also a standard-barrel version, but in this case, with a silver sliding) in Reality this is Just A Glock 17 Chambered with 40 Smith & Wesson for Better Punch. Perfect Pistol For FBI And Law Enforcement who looking better Punch but Maintain Controllability.

GLOCK 18

The Glock 18 is a Select Version variant of the Glock 17, designed for the Austrian counter-terrorist unit EKO Cobra. Introduced in 1986, it features a selective-fire option, allowing both fully automatic (1,100–1,200 RPM) and semi-automatic firing modes. The circular selector switch on the rear left side of the slide controls the firing mode. The pistol is often equipped with a 33-round magazine and can be used with or without a shoulder stock for added stability. This Particular Model is First Production of Glock 18 which marked by Extended Barrel and Lack of Compensator to Reduce the Recoil.

Thank you For @plazasims For Jill Valentine outfit & @mimoto-sims For Pose

GLOCK 18C

The Improved Model Of Glock 18. The compensator cuts start about halfway back on the top of the barrel. The two rear cuts are narrower than the two front cuts. The slide is hollowed, or dished-out, in a rectangular pattern between the rear of the ejection port and the rear sight. The rate of fire in fully automatic mode is around 1,100–1,200 rounds per minute. Most of the other characteristics are equivalent to the Glock 17, although the slide, frame, and certain fire-control parts of the Glock 18 are not interchangeable with other Glock models.

Thank you For @pandorassims4cc For Pose

Compact

Compact is a relative term. These Glocks are still somewhat large with barrel lengths of 4.02 inches and grips that fill your hand. The slightly shorter grip and barrel length allow them to be easier to conceal and more comfortable to carry while maintaining control over the gun. That being said, this is the most popular category of the Glock sizes.

GLOCK 19

The Glock 19 is effectively a reduced-size Glock 17, called the "Compact" by the manufacturer. It was first produced in 1988, primarily for military and law enforcement. The Glock 19's barrel and pistol grip are shorter by about 12 mm (0.5 in) than the Glock 17, and it uses a magazine with a standard capacity of 15 rounds. A 10 round version of this magazine is also made for markets that restrict the magazine capacity of handguns. And, a "+2" base plate can make the standard magazine into a longer 17 round magazine. The pistol is also compatible with any magazines designed for the Glock 17 and Glock 18, providing factory magazine capacities of 17, 19, 24 and 33. Changing out base plates adds capacities of 26 or 31 rounds.

Subcompact

Subcompact Glocks are designed to be concealed carry weapons and backup guns. These guns sport ultra-short frames, and barrel lengths vary between 3.43 inches and 3.78 inches depending on caliber. These guns are straightforward to carry and conceal in almost any way you want.

The Glock 26, a 9×19mm "subcompact" variant designed for concealed carry, was introduced in 1995, primarily for the civilian market. It has also been acquired by the US military and designated MK 26. Featuring a smaller frame compared to the Glock 19, the pistol grip supports only two fingers, and it has a shorter barrel and slide, along with a double-stack magazine with a standard capacity of 10 rounds. A factory magazine with a +2 extension gives it a capacity of 12 rounds. Additionally, the Glock 26 can use factory magazines from the Glock 17, Glock 18, and Glock 19. One can swap out base plates to give it capacities of 15, 17, 19, 24, 26, 31, and 33 rounds. More than simply a "shortened" Glock 19, the design of the subcompact Glock 26 required extensive rework of the frame, locking block, and spring assembly, which features a dual recoil spring.

Competition & Long Slide

By bigger than full-size, we are talking about guns mostly made for competition shooting. They have standard sized frames but longer slides and barrels. The longer slide and barrel gives a longer sight radius and a higher velocity, as well as less recoil and muzzle flip.

GLOCK 34

The Glock 34 is a competition version of the Glock 17. It is similar to its predecessor, the Glock 17L, but with a slightly shorter slide and barrel, to meet the maximum size requirements for many sanctioned action pistol sporting events. It was developed and produced in 1998, and compared to the Glock 17, features a 21 mm (0.8 in) longer barrel and slide. It has an extended magazine release, extended slide stop lever, 20 N trigger pull, and an adjustable rear sight. The sides at the front of the slide are slanted instead of squared. Further, the top of the slide and parts of its inside are milled out, creating a conspicuous hole at the top designed to reduce front-end muzzle weight to better balance the pistol and reduce the overall weight of the slide. The Glock 34 can accept any magazine the Glock 17 can accept.

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bizlybebo · 1 year ago

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master post of master posts for Palestine

welcome to the blog there is actually no escape

vixen/soap/kian

(also not opposed 2 vix and any other nicknames of the sort)

he/it or any ^__^

#1 condifiction propogandist, THE dakota cole understander, toxic yuri enthusiast, assigned setup worse than ethoslab by tumblr, probably a tboy but i don't really have time for that, trapped in the jrwi PD hyperfixation

super inconsistently active. i will spam rb drey ferin art and go inactive for a week this is a frequent occurrence actually

my full legal god given name is vixen kian soap bizlybebo dc lesbianchipbastard. trust

all my mutuals are at the whims of various kitchen appliances. if you're reading this im putting you in the microwave

i’m pretty slow to respond sometimes, just cause i’m often low on spoons socially. pinky promise i’m not trying to be mean<3

AROMANTICISM BLAST 💥 YOUR FAVES ARE ALLOARO 💥🙏

TUMBLR USER CLAVIDY STOP SENDING ME YAOI ❌❌❌

in love with DIVORCED from my evil self @/evilbizlybebo since 5/19/2024 🖤 7/9/2024 💔

flag in the pfp is from tag @/tagiscool, colorpicked from drey ferin ^__^

don't really have a dni but terfs, cc!drm and cc!will gold fans, etc. will be blocked. arguing on the internet is pointless so please just block and scroll.

not a gorefreak but i support their beliefs ☝️i am not immune to mark winters whump

#vixen rambles- text posts of my prophetic visions

#vixen draws- my art :3 (i sometimes also post animatics on youtube)

#vixen writes- my writing/ao3 stuff :3

#vixen answers- talking to nice people ^__^

#vixens in class- being a full time student does NOT stop the dakota cole grind. usually just means i’ll take a second to respond :3

(other misc: #cshrposting, #dreyposting, #hamartia tag)

(spoilers tags i use: #pd spoilers, #jrwi pd spoilers, #jrwi spoilers, #jrwi riptide spoilers, #jrwi apotheosis spoilers, #jrwilb)

PLEASE dont be shy to reach out,, i love making friends on here <33 don't worry about the fact that i am actively putting you in the dishwasher

other things i like: ZOMBIE STUFF IN GENERAL, human anatomy/medicine, omori, twd video games, CAR SEAT HEADREST, music in general (ask me abt my favorite bands im so normal), casual hermitcraft enjoyer, scu/the council

blinkies/photo collection beneath the cut, flash warning ? (“i love lesbianism” and “i love transgenderism” banners by @/scramratz)

tumblr

^ video by ashton b codecicle swagaythor !!!!

#pinned post #i post straight into the void #and nobody can stop me #it’s great #vixen rambles #vixen writes #vixen draws #vixen draws 😱😱#<old art tag #vixens in class #reblogs forever and ever #save #vixen answers #dreyposting #my art #pinned post save tag

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dreamaze · 10 months ago

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.⟡. 2023 Year in Review .⟡.

cc year in review — every month in 2023 : link your favorite and/or most popular post from each month this year

tagged by: @shorelinnes, @xiaojuun, & @gnanii, thank you lovelies! ♡ tagging (no pressure, & the gifs were extra!): @ye-xiu, @eggheons, @nervousnotion, @honeyimissjoo (if you’ve already done this, feel free to drop the link! ♡)

Hello!! A brief(ish) recap before the actual list. It’s been a pretty wild year in wingsland, mostly thanks to finishing up my second master’s degree in December (finally, BYE!). Looking back, I’m surprised at how much content I actually created, but this has been a refuge and source of comfort for me while running on fumes between work and school and general adulting. 2023 also marked some changes in my listening and sources of inspiration. I fell more out of interest with txt (apologies to all followers who were here for them… this is the second time this has happened, oops?) but fell even more in love with Monsta X while discovering some other new or new-to-me artists (more on that in another post). Reason was my first official comeback with them, and it really lit a fire in my brain. I have a few ongoing series that I intend to continue, whether they’re gifs or audio compilations. I giffed a LOT of besties (minhyuk + hyungwon, the soulmates of soulmate besties). It brings me so so much joy to work on those sets and the various audio edits or just being excited about musical details in my music box tag. I also managed to squeeze in a few angsty mv sets along the way, because tbh I feel like I am thriving most as a creator when something is pulling at the heartstrings. I know mbbblr has been quiet lately (and must seem exceedingly so to those who were around years ago), but I will keep being noisy about them until mx6 is reunited and beyond. Thank you for sticking around with me ♡

(P.S. I am calling these my favorites and audience favorites because what even is popularity on tumblr, and also I am horribly indecisive and can rarely stick to one. Please enjoy the occasionally unserious post descriptions!)

January ⟡ My favorite(s out of an unusually prolific month): ‘Beautiful Liar’ lyrics + reflected shots, control imagery, & Minhyuk/Changkyun choreo; besties livestreams ft. minhyuk about to get his ass kicked by an indignant noodle & besties again not fighting ⟡ Audience favorite: Reason concept ver.3 (where did all those notes come from) followed by Hyungwon in Love Killa/Gambler/Beautiful Liar

February ⟡ My favorite: Besties Lone Ranger recording, Honey PD ’괜찮아’ Recording (ft. bonus honey threatening offering to kiss minhyuk on the lips), Hyungwon ‘Beautiful Liar’ mv + photoshoot behinds, & the following ⟡ Audience favorite: Unofficial art director Lee Minhyuk

March ⟡ The (only) favorite: Hyungwon FRED x Marie Claire (my favorite photoshoot coloring of the year)

April ⟡ My favorite: Minhyuk in Reason era & besties ft. not-very-tsundere hyungwon ⟡ Audience favorite: Hyungwon John Varvatos x GQ

May ⟡ My favorite: Besties All In mv + filming (for the 7th anniversary of All In) & the following ⟡ Audience favorite: Lights album preview

June ⟡ My favorite: Overdrive & “always you and me” besties ⟡ Audience favorite: Minhyuk x Singles

July ⟡ My favorite: Hyungwon x MV water imagery ⟡ Audience favorite: 1/2 of besties enlists (sobwail)

August ⟡ My favorite: Fighter performance video (…ft. besties), besties massage (fail), & the following ⟡ Audience favorite: Changkyun x Marie Claire

September ⟡ My favorite: Jaechan ‘Time’ ⟡ Audience favorite: Minhyuk vs the prop pear

October ⟡ My favorite: Besties with or without mx ⟡ Audience favorite: A pretty Joohoney

November ⟡ The (only) favorite: Minhyuk x Floun

December ⟡ My favorite: Giuk 'My Blue' & the consequences of putting besties next to each other in dance relays ⟡ Audience favorite: Hyungwon Givenchy Beauty x Singles

#reused my calendar layout from last year because why not!#shout out to all the artists i loved & intensely listened to this year even if i did not create for them #you're in my heart if not in my cc archive #wings.original #kpop #for fun

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jodilin65 · 32 years ago

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FRIDAY, JANUARY 31, 1992 I am on the phone now with Bob but he just hung up. He’s got a new job and is tired and must get up at 5:00 this morning. Lucky for him he’s so tired. I wish I could say the same for myself. The truth is, I got myself on a screwy schedule again as I knew I would.

I’ve got to call Carol back tomorrow. I called the DA’s office that’s been jerking me around since day one and they will not speak to me. Only Tracy can call them but she hasn’t called them, the PD or me. So I told them fine, defense wins in this case and I’m going to take matters into my own hands now and handle the rest of this case by myself. I will get those tapes back.

As usual, I only spoke to Kim for two seconds. She was only home an hour and God only knows if she’s home yet. For her to be out at 2:00 in the morning, though, would mean she’s on an ambulance all.

I started to pack a little more but I wish Tammy would hurry up and call with a definite date. That way I can get started with all the bullshit I’ve got to do both here and when I get there. Here, I must go to the bank, figure out a way to transfer my prescriptions, call SS and food stamps, put in a change of address at the post office. I’ve also got to get groceries and figure out what the hell to do about Sheila. She has to be able to see me Tuesday as that’s one day Kim’s free. I will call her tomorrow. When I move I’ll have to get a new doctor like Dr. Leitch, get that lactose test, see a dentist, call SS and food stamps and get a new bank.

Later…

I just had some cereal and looked through my photo album. I opened up my skylight and some other windows after I put the ceiling fan on and aired this dusty place out. I sure am gonna miss the ceiling fan, the skylight, the Jacuzzi, the dishwasher, garbage disposal, washer, dryer and all this space. And central AC, too.

As soon as I move, I will save up to buy a secondhand washer.

Later…

I am sitting here listening to my tapes of Andy calling the CC. He’s having a “major problem” with looking out his window and seeing cactuses and palm trees. He also says it is very warm out with lots of sunshine. Everyone else is telling him it’s dark out and very cold out. He also has a very very strange sister who has a crazy laugh and says all these things that make no sense at all.

I took an old bathing suit which is too big, cut the material and covered one of my not-too-attractive journals with it. Sort of like how you put a book cover on a book.

Later…

I’m doing much better at changing my schedule than I thought I would. I called Sheila and she’s moved my appointment from Mon. at 4:15 to Tues. at 10:15. I will fill out the transfer papers with her. Mon. at 6:30 I see Cassandra.

I called Sally and Jill. Jill answered and she now has her own room. She said she’ll be having lunch with Sally and will give her my new number. They never got my new number after they returned from vacation as Jill said the system was down. They both sound super nice and who knows? Maybe I can get a little fun before I move. Of course, the question is, will I get so lucky again as far as sexual attraction? And so soon, too?

I called Carol, who got a call from the DA’s office. I’m gonna call Chief B next Mon.

I spoke to George too, who said it was fine with him if I drain the waterbed out the bedroom window in the front. Kim was paranoid about that and insisted we do it out the back. I told Kim that water wouldn’t destroy the planet. It rains and snows, doesn’t it?

George emptied my barrel outside and it broke cuz it was frozen so he gave me a new one. He said I could take it with me and that they’d give me boxes.

I think I’ll go now and listen to some more tapes.

Mark’s awake. I just heard him flush the toilet. Mark played a funny prank on me the other day. I also played one on him in return. I will write all about that later. Current Location: Massachusetts

THURSDAY, JANUARY 30, 1992 Kim was over earlier and she got all my stuff out of the attic. Boy, is that thing dusty! She gave me 3 more boxes, too.

Dad called at 11:00 this evening, and I also had a nice chat with Tammy.

In the morning I must call the DA about my tapes. Tracy never returned my calls. Carol told me to call the DA. God, I hope and I pray all goes well with that! Please, God! Let me have all my tapes back. Please! Know what they mean to me. Know they will not be abused. I have learned my lesson once and for all. Please, if there’s a God and he can hear me, please let me have all my tapes as they were.

I don’t know just when I will go to bed, but I should soon. That way I won’t sleep too late.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 28, 1992 I’m only gonna write a little as I am very tired. I met with Cassandra today and that was nice.

The American Music Awards was on and to my surprise, Gloria wasn’t even there or nominated. Yesterday Jessie called to tell me Gloria was on channel 3 but I can’t get that. Gloria’s gonna be on the Disney channel for 3 different nights and I want to try to get Tammy to tape it for me. I doubt she’ll want to bother, though.

Around 8:00 this evening I got two pranks from that same guy who called the other number. It figures I’d get a call while I was taping channel 40 and watching channel 22. I told the guy to call me in a few hours. Meanwhile, he could entertain my machine. I was hoping he’d call back after 11:00, but he failed to after all. Bummer.

I’m 99% sure it’s an associate of Maliheh’s. There’s no way it could be Fran as this is the same person who mentioned the CC. Knowing I was there, I mean, and Fran never knew I was there. I doubt it’s tied in with the cops or anyone else who works downstairs cuz how would they know? Mark would admit to it for sure if he’d put a friend up to it. The only other possibility is someone who works at the CC, but that’s highly unlikely. It’s Maliheh.

Later…

Well, I got my schedule all fucking screwed up again. Whenever I do go to sleep, I’ll have to allow myself only two hours of sleep. I hope to hell I hear the alarm. I’ve got to go to the store for some cigarettes.

Earlier this evening Kim made us some popcorn. I watched TV and typed a letter to Nervous. I have a letter for Fran, too, along with my bills. I’m gonna also send Andy a letter and pretty much count on only me sending letters. He’ll only send one once a year. Maybe twice if I’m lucky and I hound him for it. He tried calling yesterday around noon. He left a quick message singing part of one of Gloria’s songs.

It would be nice if I could hurry up and get an exact moving date. That way I can begin with all the transferring. Such as my bank, SS, and I’ll have to make several other calls.

What the fuck is taking Tracy forever to return my call? I’m just gonna call the police station myself. I’ve got to get my stuff back.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 26, 1992 Kim got home the other day and she has a great tan. She gave me this really cute satin pillow which is small and has silk flowers on it. It also has silk ribbons all over it such as the ones that are in my journals that I made bookmarks out of. It’s got lace outlining on all sides and it can be hung on the wall. She also gave me a glass butterfly and an elephant. A tiny porcelain-like heart-shaped jewelry box. Or for whatever you want to use it for. Lastly, she gave me a 10”x10” or so heart that sticks on both sides. So I peeled them both off and stuck on an old blue glittery type material from a shirt Andy gave me before he left. When I move, I’ll put the yellow bow Kim made for me in the center of it and hang it.

The reason why I’m not gonna put anything together here anymore is cuz I’m finally moving. Tammy was able to get the girl at the NHA to move me to the top of the list. Also to get mom to keep her word about paying for the move. Tammy’s got some friends to help move me and she’s gonna rent a U-Haul.

George mailed Tammy a note which she gave to the girl in the office there about how the other people he rented my place out to are hounding him to move in here.

I called and spoke to a woman named Mary Jane. She told me a few things about the apartment. One thing is that it’s on the 1st floor and that makes me a little nervous. I haven’t seen the general layout inside and outside but I hope no one rips me off while I’m out. Also, if I want to leave my windows open at night while I’m asleep, will it be safe? Who knows, but I’ll mind my own business even though that sometimes doesn’t work. I will not associate with my neighbors even though the girl said there’s only one family near me. There are 4 apartments side by side and I’m on the end. The people next to me are a husband and wife with 4 kids. Even though I’ve basically had excellent neighbors, I’m out to avoid people like Bonnie and Brenda. Plus, I always start off with a problem or a fight with someone, then we’ve become friends. Yet I no longer care to stick it out and go through that again till the happy ending comes around. For example, I don’t want to be at a female neighbor’s house, get along with her very well and have her brother who’s a pervert bother me. I’ll only go off on a rampage and start a fight with the guy. I will not kiss ass or try to be friendly and resolve any problems or misunderstandings. I will not let any problems or misunderstandings start in the first place. That is if I can help it, of course. If a guy knocks on my windows, that’s a different ballgame. I will open the door and do my best to bash his head into dog meat. Overall, I do like the idea of having no one above or below me. Only on one side of me and there’s probably a firewall there. There was a firewall between me and Anna and Julia on Oswego St. but not between me and Mattie so who knows. The girl told me music is no problem. The people next door play it, too.

It has no apartment number or letter, I guess. It has hardwood floors, no dishwasher or disposal. Not even laundry facilities on the premises. She said there is a hook-up for a washer and a huge clothesline out back. They’re gonna be installing dryer hook-ups. Tammy said for now I can do my wash at her place and save up for a second-hand washer. I can do that in a couple of months as the rent’s only $138! Heat and hot water are included. The electricity, I’ll still have to pay. Tammy saw it and she said it is small and definitely not what I’m used to, but what do you expect for $138?

Tomorrow sometime, I’ll write more about the move and about Cassandra who I am gonna desperately miss even more than Kim. I’m going to miss her most of all and I have become very fond of her and I wish there were more people like her. The world could use that.

Later…

Well, I sure as hell hope I’m not up all night. I didn’t get up till 1:30. I have to back my schedule up quite a bit if I’m gonna go for that test on Wed.

Kim gave me some trash compactor bags I bought from her as well as gave her the money she left me. She had left me $30 till Tony was able to bring me to court and back. I gave Mark $20 while Kim was in Florida. Tonight I wrote out a check for the remaining $10, plus the 2 trash compactor bags. That was a total of $11. I owe nothing to no one now. Just $21 to the phone company, $58 to the electric, and $260.52 to Peter. I’m only paying him half of the rent as I’ll be gone in the middle of Feb.

I’ve got to get ahold of Tracy about my tapes. She’s so hard to reach and takes forever to return your calls.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 22, 1992 Bob’s on the phone now and he’s watching his sign language tape. I just hung up with him so I could write. I know I have several things to write about but my mind sort of went blank.

Last Sunday, or last Saturday actually, I did quite a bit around here. First, I made a plant hanger from the ribbons Kim gave me. I put it up by the attic inside the alcove, on the side sticking out. It looks nice there and it’s out of Shadow’s reach. Plants really do something for apartments, houses or any place. I want to get into plant collecting as it really makes the place look nice.

I also took some round coasters and cut out pictures of Gloria to fit in them. They look nice.

Now for what really looks super cool. I went and got that huge glassed-in picture that I had put in the little hall between our doors. I busted it out of the frame, took the cardboard backing, the picture itself and made a huge picture collage. I have 36 pictures on one and almost 40 on the other. These are of the family. And friends too. There are Lisa, Becky, Sarah, Tammy, Bill, Mom, Dad, Andy, Kim, Mark and me.

Yesterday was a horror story. Due to the fact that I don’t have a lease, the landlord can ask you to move for no reason at all. I spoke with Peter, who says he’s giving me till March 1st, as these people are pressuring him about moving in. I told him it’s not my fault that last December I was 100% sure I was moving and that my mom backed out. I said I’d take him to court if I had to and the law doesn’t allow you to fuck with someone who’s on SS or SSI so easily. I went through this with Russ and even though I won him over, I wasn’t about to put up with it all over again. I’ve been through so much shit in the last year, both my fault and not my fault.

He spoke with Tammy and he’s gonna “work with her” so to speak and try to have a little compassion and understanding. I spoke with George today and he said, “You could stay forever and ever, it’s just that you did say you were moving.”

So, I explained to him what’s going on and he said to just hang in there as things do get better and he’s sympathetic to both sides. These people are living with their in-laws and are going crazy. I’m isolated with nothing and nobody and going crazy myself.

A part of me was telling myself, keep calm, it’ll work out, you’ve been through so much shit already, you can handle one more piece of shit, relax and don’t let them win. The other part said - I’ve had it and I don’t give a shit!

That was when I cut myself.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 17, 1992 Andy may be calling tonight. I forgot which nights he said were his nights off.

Fran must’ve forgotten my new number again as I have not heard from him. It usually takes 2 or 3 times for him to remember stuff like that.

Andy should’ve received his letter along with his bracelet by now. I’m working on several letters right now. I got a postcard in the mail from Kim today. She says she’s really enjoying herself and has a nice tan. That I can surely believe. She tans easily and is darker to begin with. She included some lines on the postcard. The mailman must’ve been quite confused. Kim will be back in 6 days. That’ll be nice as seldom as I see her anyway.

I’ve spoken briefly to Bob yesterday and I’m gonna give him a call soon.

”Shauna D” was enrolled in the Mystery Guild book club by Andy. Shauna’s getting two free books now for enrolling “Saundra C.”

I spoke to Ann Marie last night. We had a very pleasant talk. However, I don’t have a car and it’s just oh-so easier to be alone. We discussed her coming up for a visit which is nice but we’re gonna remain friends. She needs to find someone, ready, able, willing and not afraid or insecure. I feel I have nothing to offer her or anyone else other than friendship or sex. I was open and honest with her. I had to be. We discussed how my therapist says I push people away subconsciously but I can’t help it. I have to do what I have to do. I can’t be changed into relationship material. It is too late. The damage is done and the way I am is the way I am. There are some things that are so much a part of us and we cannot change. I can’t handle too much closeness. Also, I don’t have any real desire or will that one needs if they do want more than friendship and sex. What can I do? At least I was upfront about it. I had to say hey, this is who I am. I really admire her a lot. She’s so beautiful, too. Therefore, I hope she meets the right woman and settles down with her. She really really deserves it. A person like her shouldn’t have to be alone. She has so much to offer. A hell of a lot to offer.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 16, 1992 Boy, did I have a great day. They dismissed my case in Northampton and are going along with the Greenfield disposition. I will not have to go back to Northampton court again. All I have to do is see Sheila every now and then and continue with Cassandra. That’s no problem.

Tony and I went to a Chinese restaurant after.

Yesterday I got an unexpected surprise in the mail from my parents. A $10 bill along with some cigarette coupons.

I had a very positive talk yesterday with Tammy, too. We got a lot of stuff out in the open.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 15, 1992 Andy called earlier this morning. At 8:30.

I’ve been up since 4 AM. I fell asleep last night at 8:00. I feel groggy, though, and I just can’t seem to shake it. Part of it is boredom.

I’ve got to go to court tomorrow and so that’s on my mind. I tell myself not to worry yet I have a bad feeling about my tapes and all the other shit like the wrong way the investigation was handled. I have no idea what the hell’s going on. But I do know this, when I go to Greenfield court to see Sheila, I am gonna file charges on both Maliheh and Jenny. It’s about time the treatment’s fair. I’m not letting anyone ever again get away with not paying for something they’ve done while I have to pay for what I’ve done. Fair is fair and that’s how I operate. I give what I get. That is within reason, of course. Now it’s time for Jenny and Maliheh to have to take a timeout here and there to be dragged through the mud. Face up to what they’ve done wrong just like I had to.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 14, 1992 Today’s been pretty good so far. I got up at 5:00 and at 5:45 Bob called. He said he had a car till 2:00 this afternoon. Some guy loaned him the car so Bob could pick his wife up at work at 9:00. Then, bring her to a doctor’s appointment and back to work. I took a shower, straightened my hair and put on some makeup. By 6:45 Bob was here. He brought two plants called Wandering Jews. He also brought over some pound cake, banana nut bread and sample packets of my favorite coffee.

We were both so thrilled to get the hell out so he took me to Food Fart. I needed very badly to go. Cassandra was going to take me last night but I was too tired and I really needed to talk. This all worked out for the better and I spent $101 in food stamps and $18 in cash. I still have almost $60 left for the month.

Besides cigarette money, I still got to get Gloria’s songbook, and Linda has a new album out. It’s in Spanish. The last one was Canciones de mi Padre. I believe this one is Canciones de mi Madre.

Yesterday I spoke to Tracy and my court date isn’t this Wednesday, it’s Thursday. I got in touch with Tony who says it’s no problem. Great.

When Cassandra was here last night, we discussed certain family issues that I’ve written about. She told me her 20s were the pits. Her teens were worse and things really didn’t get better till she reached her 30s. She’s 42 now. She’s very pretty for her age, too. She told me to call her at home and let her know about shopping and court.

It’s good that I got to go to Food Fart today cuz Cassandra wasn’t able to take me until Thursday and that only would’ve been if there was enough time.

Man, is it pouring out! It’s so dark, too. I opened the blinds in the bedroom and it was still too dark to write without the lamp on.

I just came out into the kitchen. If it weren’t for the skylights, most of this place would be quite dim.

This year I’m really anxious for summer to hurry up and arrive. I’ll be seeing Andy in July and if I’m in CT, I can tan at my sister’s with that huge kiddy pool. Also, I can wear my summer clothes.

Even though everyone says I’m nuts, I want to lose 10 pounds anyway. Or basically, pull in my muscles so they’re tauter rather than lumpy and bulky. That way I’ll have a nicer shape.

Well, I think I’ll go see if Mark’s up. Then I’ll call Bob.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 12, 1992 Well, my schedule’s definitely gotten better. I slept till almost 3 AM. I woke up at 10:30 with just a little wheezing so I got up, took my meds, went to the bathroom, then went back to bed.

During the night I spoke to Bob. Or actually, I didn’t speak to him till 7:30 cuz after I woke up I watched the shows that I had taped.

I changed Shadow’s box, vacuumed out the stairwell and took a walk down to Cumberland. I saw an article with Gloria saying that she was abused sexually at age 9. I wouldn’t be surprised if it were true, even though 95% of the stuff in Star magazine’s bullshit. Also, I wouldn’t be surprised if it were true cuz it’s so common.

I only had $2 and needed milk. I got a microwave hot dog and a candy bar too, but as soon as I can, I’ll get the magazine. I’ve got to spend my cash sparingly, but I’m well held over till I go food shopping. That’ll be tomorrow evening, but I don’t know the exact time.

I had one message when I got up. It was from Mom saying she’ll get in touch with me sometime this week, don’t call her back, and did I get my coupons?

Later…

I did some singing both with and without records.

When I went to call Bob, I dialed wrong and began singing as soon as I heard what I thought was Bob pick up. It was a guy around his age that said, “I like that singing. Do it again.”

Later…

I did more singing and I’m so happy to say that it was truly great. For a while there, I wasn’t exercising my voice regularly and it was either just good or ok. I didn’t really get into the exercises, but nonetheless, it was super good today. It started off a little raspy due to congestion but before long it opened up and cleared up.

About an hour ago I went to call Bob back but Sandra says he took a walk to the store. We spoke for a while and she told me a little about her background and her family. Since she’s got terminal cancer, she’s hoping she can hold out long enough to visit her two aunts in Fort Lauderdale, Florida. That’s so sad.

I wish Mark would be kind enough to call or come over and say hey, I know you’re alone and bored half the time, so how about some company? Or going out for coffee and donuts or something, but no. Do people care anymore? What does he spend all his time doing when he’s not at work? Is he even home now?

Later…

Tony just called. He will be able to drive me to court and back, too.

I think I’ll give Bob a call now. I’m sure he must be back home by now.

I want to try to stay up till 8:00. In order to stay up a while longer, maybe I’ll write some letters. Maybe I can also cook some of that shrimp Tammy gave me.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 11, 1992 As time goes on, I wish more and more I lived where it’s warm all the time. I’m sick of snow and I hate winter clothes. I like to run around in shorts and skimpy tops. I like the thought of being able to swim year-round and being near a pool or a beach. Something tropical and beautiful like where my parents live. I’d never want to live in their mobile home, though, as you can’t make any more noise than a whisper without the whole island hearing you.

Of course, I’d definitely have to have an AC constantly.

It sucks knowing I’ll never have the money to move or travel. Other than moving to CT, of course. Too bad I can’t get to Old Colony Beach by bus. That would be the perfect thing for me in the summer. I’d be out more and it could really occupy my time in a fun productive way. How often is Tammy gonna want to go? I’m sure she can bring me to her house so I can tan on her deck. That great big kiddy pool is nice to use so you can cool off. I get sun heated very very easily. I guess it’d be cooler there in the woods and with all those trees. I hope the trees don’t block out the sun’s rays. It would probably have to be at a certain angle at a certain time of day. Here in the parking lot, you have to wait till around 1:00 in the afternoon. Before then, the sun’s on the other side of the building.

Later…

I’ve finished Andy’s bracelet and written him a letter. I will go throw it in the mailbox later. Since I still have so many stamps, I may as well write Andy, Fran and Nervous more letters. Maybe Mom, Dad and Tammy, too.

In the center of town here, someone’s bound to have a copying machine. If so, I’d like to photocopy my drawings and send them to Andy. Maybe Peter has a copying machine.

I wonder if Bill at the CC will take me up on my taping offer. Editing offer, I should say. I spoke to him earlier in the week. He was in Canada on vacation but says he hasn’t forgotten.

Earlier, I spoke with Bob. I told him to call me anytime and that if I didn’t answer, he could entertain my machine. He left a message making these funny noises. Another message with Linda Ronstadt singing Tracks of my Tears.

As many problems as Bob has, he’s really a nice person. Late at night, we’ve had some good talks. He’s not only up all night, he’s up all day, too. He only sleeps an hour or so due to so much back pain. Last May he had major back surgery. That’s how he met Kim. She was his nurse. He met her 6 months after I did. I had originally thought they met around the same time Kim and I met.

Guess not.

Later…

I am trying my best to keep awake. I’ll manage, but it’ll be hard.

I’m writing at my kitchen table. At this time of day, the sun is directly in front of the window/door. Boy, is it ever bright here but the warmth of the sun feels nice. These windows are about 6 feet tall and almost 6 feet wide. At the same time, you feel like you’re outdoors as it is so bright and sunny, the warmth of the sun makes you feel as if it’s summer out.

The neat thing about the heating system here which is hot air blowing up from the floor is that it sounds like an AC. They are not noisy, though. All you hear is air softly blowing. It’s better than radiators hissing and clanking like an old-fashioned cash register. I hate radiators. There are only 5 floor vents here. They’re only 8 x 6 inches yet it’s amazing how well they heat a 1400-square-foot apartment.

I spoke with Bob about a half-hour ago. He wishes he had his car fixed. So do I. That way we could get the fuck out. Maybe go to Dunkin Donuts or someplace like that to talk in the wee hours of the night while the rest of the world’s asleep.

I wonder if Mark’s up yet or if he’s even home. Kim gave me 3 pictures Bob took of him in his uniform standing by his cruiser. I called him at 1:30 last night when I heard him come home to tell him I’d be up if he wanted company. Or to hear more edits and have coffee. He said another time would be better as he had a busy night. Two arrests and other shit went on, too. Wouldn’t Mark love to be a cop in Springfield?

I better go get Shadow and leash him down. I have a bad feeling he’s gonna wake me up. I’ll fucking kill him. I’ve got to get on a schedule. If I can somehow sleep past midnight, then till 5 AM on Monday morning, I’ll be all set to go grocery shopping with Cassandra Monday evening.

Later…

I am still up and oh so exhausted.

I forgot to mention that yesterday I got some mail from my parents. I had sent them 10 pictures. Three of them Bob took on my birthday after Kim took me to Ponderosa. Two were of me and Mark setting stuff up when I moved in. One was just of Mark. One of Kim and I. One of Mark and I. Two of me sitting on Kim’s piano bench with Shadow.

They sent them back as I asked them to along with some coupons for cigarettes, cat food, coffee, chocolate pudding, and pads. They also sent this little calendar in which you peel the back off so you can stick it wherever. That was nice of them as I had one stuck to my waterbed shelves last year. Shortly after I moved here, Kim gave me a calendar like that.

I hope Kim is enjoying herself in Florida.

If my parents were to invite me to their place, I’d have to be sure not to be dumb enough to go. Can’t let the thought of tanning and swimming block out my mother’s shit. I’m dying to go swimming and get a tan, but it isn’t worth dealing with her bullshit. Unless I avoided her all the time, that is, but it still isn’t worth it. A person passing up a vacation that’s all paid for is telling you something, huh? With someone like sweet Dureen O included in the package, forget it.

I’m just so drop-dead tired. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out much longer. I feel like shit, too. I hope I sleep later.

Later…

I put Shadow on his leash down at the bottom by his litter box. From now on, I go by my very strong “feelings.” My feeling told me I’d be woken up by him clawing on the door if I didn’t leash him down.

Ann Marie hasn’t called and frankly, I don’t know if she should call me. She was beautiful, great in bed and was a super nice person, but there were a few things that bugged me. At first, she told me she too, liked the idea of the person not living close by. That way she can have space and not feel smothered. She also told me to be myself yet complains that I’m so sensitive. I told her I’m not used to being touched. When you’re deaf in one ear your other senses are sharper, I told her. There were also things she’d point out about me that she’d call weird, but she’d do the same thing herself. The last time we spoke she says she wishes the person was closer as she’s sick of driving.

Then, she went on and on about my not having a car, yet I told her this when I responded to her ad. Then she went on and on about her grandmother regretting never getting her license and having to depend on a bus or other people. As if she was trying to make me feel guilty and as if I have the money for a car and no fear of driving.

I thought she was gonna accept me the way I am. I told her not to try to change me and that my door’s always open for her to walk out and stay out. I’m not gonna go through it again. The contradictions, I mean. She’s pretty and I like her, but I don’t want to bother. I’ve learned very well that the deeper you get in, the deeper shit you get in. The sexual experience was what was important to me and what I wanted. That, and that only was very very worth it. I only hope there’s no price to pay for that moment of happiness. In 4 more days, we’ll see.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 10, 1992 I thought I’d do a little writing while I was waiting for my pork chops to cook. I’m really bored right now and I was hoping to hear from Andy who left a message while I was asleep. I tried to call him collect so he’d refuse it and call me back but his voice mail came on. He probably thinks I made it to New York after all.

Last night I woke up at 9:00 and I was bummed out as I was unable to beat that tonight. I got up at 7:00 and I’m still pretty tired. I doubt I’ll be able to go to sleep for a few hours. Once I’m up, I’m up. Tired or not.

I tried to call Bob, but Sandra says he’s all upset about Kim’s trip to Florida. She leaves tomorrow. She’s lucky cuz she’s not gonna have to deal with anyone like my mom to spoil her vacation. At least not that I know of.

Speaking of my mom and my whole family, well, I’m really disappointed. Just when I believed they were beginning to believe in me and understand me, I feel just the opposite. These people think they have me all figured out yet they don’t even know me.

Later…

I know now that I’ll never sleep and that there’s no use in trying.

I hate how my family is so sure I want something due to a certain reason when in fact it is for a whole different reason. And they just cannot, for the life of them take my word for some things I say. I wish they’d realize that if I have something to say to them, I have no reason to lie. Granted every now and then we all tell little white lies but for me to do so would require a damn good reason. Rather than lie to them, I just wouldn’t say anything at all. An example is if I paid $20 for a necklace and I didn’t want to tell them that, I’d not say a word, rather than lie and say it costs $10.

There’s a reason why I’ve run around giving them a taste of their own medicine lately. When my mom accidentally knocked over my guitar, I knew it was an accident. Despite how rude she was about my wanting to play in MY house. She was ignoring me anyway so I figured I’d just do my thing. Despite her antics and her dramatics, I accused her anyway of doing it out of spite. With anyone else, I could never do that and I’d feel guilty and she begged me not to tell anyone she did it deliberately cuz she didn’t. I asked her how it felt to be accused of something untrue and reminded her of the knife story. Or hammer. Or whatever the fuck they said it was I was supposed to have attacked them with in my teens. The truth of that night was that they were provoking me and saying some nasty, cruel, false, vicious and unnecessary shit about me. Therefore, when I told them to fuck off, they couldn’t handle it and didn’t want to hear it. That’s when dad came charging at me. He’s got to hit when he can’t get his way and gets frustrated and we disagree. He can’t communicate. He can’t speak rationally, honestly or listen to my true honest feelings. He can if he agrees with them and they meet his standards but I have a mind of my own. And no two minds are alike. So what was I supposed to do? I had to defend myself and I most certainly wasn’t just gonna stand there and let the bully swing at me. When they asked me why I wouldn’t lie to them, I told them I have nothing to fear from telling them the truth. What are they gonna do? Come and spank me? Ground me? Take away my stereo? Cut me down verbally? Send me away? Of course, in their opinion, name-calling like calling me a sicko is always a brilliant way of settling our differences.

Later…

I just got done listening to music and now I have another winner to write about. Here’s exactly what I mean about people putting false ideas into my mind. When my father and I discussed my having a kid, he insisted my only intent was so I could run around telling people I have a kid. Now, anyone who knows me well enough knows I know that’s a hell of a reason to have a kid. And just who would I tell? How would it impress them? He makes it sound as if I meet 20 new people a day. That is one of the reasons I no longer want to have a kid. Oh, I still want to, but not nearly as much as I used to. I don’t need to hear their opinions 20 times a day. I don’t need to be told how to do this and how to do that unless I ask. I don’t need to hear over and over how much I should be just like them. I don’t need the kid caught in the middle. Plus, there are other things to consider. I’m not rich or near rich. With all the drugs and war and crime in this world, I don’t know. A parent can only tell their kids so often what not to do. From there, it’s up to the kid to say yes or no to drugs and other stuff. My parents warned me about cigarettes. Even if they never smoked, I’d still have started anyway. Of course, I wouldn’t be puffing away on a cigarette in front of my kid, telling it not to ever smoke.

My parents tell us how hitting or any kind of violence isn’t a way to solve disagreements, but what do they do when they have a problem with their kids? Hit them.

Also, another reason not to have a kid is cuz I have no car. You can’t keep a kid cooped up in an apartment day after day. They always need doctor’s checkups and I would be, too.

Lastly, the idea of pregnancy and childbirth is too overwhelming. I’d be excited and maybe enjoy the experience but I’m so sensitive to pain and I’m small. I don’t think I could get through it. If my kid was born with a severe handicap, then I’d really feel helpless with no car and no money in spite of Medicaid.

In all situations, I do not kiss ass. I do what I want with this as an exception. This way I don’t have to go through any shit and everyone else is happy.

There are also many other things about the family that bothers me. Talking to them does no good as they get impatient or they’re in a hurry. They’re unable to really hear me out, give me a chance and keep an open mind. They’re just so set in what they want to believe. Certain people’s beliefs make sense and other ones just don’t cut it. Especially when it’s only the family. Other people see things differently and are less judgmental. And these other people are honest and would never lie to me. These people will give me constructive criticism on days when I’m not singing well. I will also come out and say when I feel it’s not my day vocally. They think every singer in the world’s got to have a great voice when I can name about 6 “famous” people off the top of my head that suck. Obviously, they have connections, money and other related talents that they’re good at. Or they slept their way. I never claimed to be a great singer but I know I sing well enough. When Tammy told me I sang well but do I really think I’m good enough to sing on tape, I told her to think back a few years ago. Knowing I had yet to develop my voice and that it’d take time. When I was 18, no way was I ready for that. She then said she wouldn’t buy the tape. She’s also never really sat down and listened to me and she’s never heard me on tape. So, before she’s given me a chance, she has her mind set that I’d make a sucky tape.

Why is it only the family’s been saying this since I was 21? The rest of the people, before I was 21, told me they felt I had potential, go for it and try to develop it. Why do I also have the feeling that even if I was a great singer, she’d still say I’d make a lousy tape? And then, of course, be positive the next day. Every singer has their good and bad days, but come on, make up your mind. They go back and forth. Me and 5 other people could each sing a song perfectly for my parents and Tammy, and while they told everyone else they were great, they’d still say I sucked.

It just seems as if everything I do is wrong even if it’s right. Nothing satisfies them. And if I decide something’s not for me like manicuring, I’m called a failure and punished for it for the rest of my life.

Other than my phone calls, nothing’s right. The way I dress is either too bummy or too dressed up. They define flashy as trashy. Do they think I’d wear clothes that don’t fully cover my privates? If my mother or sister were at a party and someone wore a sexy dress, they’d love it and probably compliment the woman. But I’d get called a whore if I wore the exact same dress. Why is it always me? It seems as if others can do whatever they want and everyone’s happy.

Later…

About an hour and a half ago, I spoke to Andy. We discussed a lot of the stuff I just wrote. I played him my latest edition of edits. He was cracking up over the girl with the CP.

According to Kim, Tony lost his job and is bored. I don’t know why he lost his job and it really doesn’t matter. What matters is that hopefully, he can bring me home from court as well as to court.

Speaking of court, am I simply paranoid or having a bad premonition? Remember how I always believed that certain things are ok for some people? Certain things aren’t ok even if they’re not wrong. Well, I always felt that after I have sex, male or female is irrelevant, that there was a price to pay. Sort of like taking the bad with the good even though the good was never really all that good. Never worth doing it again. Not even sex with the women I’ve been with. Including Kacey. But Ann Marie was a big deal sexually. I was attracted to her and really enjoyed sex with her. She was a far cry from all the others.

What if I do end up in jail on the 15th? Maybe if I never had sex, I wouldn’t have gone to jail and Northampton would’ve gone along with Greenfield’s disposition. But cuz I did have sex, maybe jail’s gonna be my payback. If I were to end up in jail and miraculously get out alive, I’d never be the same. I’ll probably get beat up so bad that I’d wish they’d killed me. As if they’ll care that I may get a death sentence for prank phone calls? If the judge says jail, he’s letting me walk into a death trap. Will they isolate me from the other prisoners? Will I be protected? Will they give me my meds?

THURSDAY, JANUARY 9, 1992 I’m on the phone now with Fran. He’s calling people he knows so they can hear the tape of Rick and Nervous.

I have to clean my place as well as go out for some groceries as soon as the stores open. I have to polish my nails and finish my letter-writing, Andy’s bracelet and do some editing. I also should try to finish the drawing of the kids on their swings so I can send it to Lisa for her birthday. She’s gonna be 9 on January 20th.

Once again I’m swapping my schedule around. I hope to stay up until early afternoon if possible. Around 8:00 this morning, I’m gonna take a walk to Sugar Loaf Market to pick up some cat food along with stuff for myself. I’ll call in my Theodur refill and Kim says she’ll pick it up. She’s going to Florida Fri. and won’t be back till the 23rd. If she doesn’t pick me up my refill, I’ll run out while she’s gone.

Tony’s gonna take me to court and I’m gonna take a taxi back. It’s gonna cost $25 but maybe I can get Tracy to take me home.

Later…

In about an hour, I’m gonna take off for the store.

Fran called earlier as I mentioned and I’ve had several talks with Bob. His car is still not fixed.

Jessie called me a few nights ago and I guess she has gone to New York. Her father was gonna be on the set for 4 more days, then go on vacation to his other place in Hawaii. Jessie hasn’t been to the set since she was pregnant and her father was paying for her and her sister to stay in a hotel. It’s right in Times Square and they also got shopping money and all their expenses were paid for. Their food and gas and stuff like that. Jessie had told me she’d call me in case Melissa decided not to go. I guess she went. Bummer. Jessie better call me when she gets back about coming up before school starts again.

Andy never called last night but we did speak the night before last. I played him some edits from about a week or so ago.

Right after I got my phone back, Fran called Nervous. Boy, did they go off on each other. It was great, though, as it’s been so long. I edited them chewing each other out as well as Andy and I. Also some girl Fran knows who talks so funny. She sounds like she’s drunk but she really has CP. Poor thing, but she’s funny as all hell anyway.

Later…

After I smoked a cigarette, I went down to Sugar Loaf Market. I got $20 worth of food. When I got back I fed Shadow and had a bite to eat. Also, I called in my refill and verified my new SSI and SS checks amount with Kathy at my bank. I get a total of $556.39 now between the two checks.

I’m so sick of this fucking waterbed. It’s a major pain in the ass. Lovemaking, or sex, I should say, would be a heck of a lot easier on a regular bed. You know, firmer ground for better balance for those who already have good balance and are flexible. Being sure-footed and flexible doesn’t really help much.

I threw in a small load of laundry and I also called Bob and played him the new 20-minute edition of edits.

As for Ann Marie, well, there really isn’t much more to say. She’s attractive, great in bed, and a nice person. She’s open, honest and understanding, but I told her up front that I don’t want a relationship. All she wants is sex, too. She did say that even though she’s never met an equal, but if she were to, she may stay with the person. Only if it were right, she said, otherwise she’d be bored quickly. That sounds logical. She says she’s had 4 relationships and a million one-nighters. The one-nighters, she explained, were due to the fact that it was one-sided. Either she was the one into it and they weren’t or vice versa. I told her I could relate to that. I told her never to expect to change me and that I was gonna be myself. If she didn’t like myself, I told her my door is always open for her to leave and find someone else to fool around with. I’m really proud of myself for not telling her anything personal. I learned sex really complicates the emotional part. That’s why your friends and family are the ones you talk to and get your love from. And you keep sex purely sexual with nothing emotional tied in. At least I do cuz the two don’t mix. If Ann Marie never were to come back then I’d have no hard feelings. If she were to come around every now and then, that’s cool, too. She called two nights ago and we had a good talk but there were a few things she said that bugged me.

MONDAY, JANUARY 6, 1992 As everyone who knows me well enough knows, there are two things I’ve been wanting bad. One is to be a singer. Two is to meet another gay woman who’s just as feminine as I am and that I’m attracted to. Also, to have it be mutual and get into bed with this woman. Well, one has happened! Yes, it has actually happened. Up till last Saturday night at 9:30, January 4th, I was still sure I was a fluke of nature. I swore up and down, left and right I was the only gay woman on earth who looked 100% like a woman. Totally ultra-feminine.

Her full name is Ann Marie P and she’s 27 years old. Her height is 5’ 3” and she weighs 120 pounds. She looks less, though, and is solid as a rock. I mean what a body! She’s got an absolutely gorgeous figure. And I thought I was solid and that Kacey and Brenda had nice shapes! Well, Kacey did, but not like Ann Marie. Kacey wasn’t as solid either and Brenda and Lisa were too thin. Diane was fat and even ugly compared to Brenda and Lisa. She has a nice shade of green eyes and long dark curly hair which is styled just like Gloria’s. Her face looks nothing like Gloria’s but her style does. Gloria’s only an inch shorter, too. She wore an awesome pair of black tights, trimmed with lace on the ends and waist, and had a tiny matching tank top. Over that, she wore a tie-dye T-shirt that was white and blue and turns pink with heat. She had a nice brown leather snakeskin-like coat. Beautiful rings, earrings, and a gold chain around her wrists and neck. It didn’t look tacky at all. It looked nice. She’s Italian and has dark skin and a nice smooth complexion. With her long brown curly hair which is about to the middle of her back and her black tights and a tank top, she looks like Gloria from behind. What I mean is, if someone took her picture from behind and said it was Gloria, one would find it easy to believe. She’s madly in love with Gloria, too.

One thing I will say, though, is damn she’s good in bed! She knows her stuff. Talk about creative and adventurous. She’s the best. Didn’t participate, though. Meaning, she didn’t have me do anything to her and she never got off. She wouldn’t go down on me either.

She was here from 9:30 PM on January 4th to 7 PM January 5th and I will write more another time.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 3, 1992 Tammy saw the efficiency and said it was too small. I figured as much. Now I have to wait longer for a 1-bedroom. That could be anywhere from 1-8 months. There are now 4 vacancies which means I’m number 8 on the list rather than number 12.

I’m tired and feeling confused right now about people and life. I’m angry and a little upset. I’m extremely frustrated, though. God, am I sick of being contradicted and knowing a certain thing is a fact with living proof to back it up. People are gonna be people. Ignorant, stubborn and set in their beliefs. Oh well. I’m not about to try to prove myself anymore. Or defend myself or anyone else against something I know I should. Some people, no matter how obvious the facts are right in front of their faces, are gonna believe what they want. Especially if the truth hurts them that bad. I’ll write more about this later. Right now I just want to go listen to music. I’m just sick of people saying one thing, then another. I’m so fucking sick of it!!!!!!!

THURSDAY, JANUARY 2, 1992 I had a long sad boring talk with Bob who’s freaked out about Kim going away to Florida. She’s going to the same area that Bob’s second wife was murdered. Supposedly Bob and Dorothy were only married for 3 days when Dorothy’s sister became ill. When she went to the sister’s house, her brother-in-law came onto her. The guy shot Dorothy, her sister and himself too, I think.

Andy called and said that things were excellent now. His financial status has improved. Now he won’t be evicted. He also is very happy at this new Denny’s he’s at. He said thank God as just a month ago he literally wanted to drop dead. He’s quite happy now. I wish I could say the same, but at least I’m feeling better than before and told him all about the phone.

He told me Donna was taking care of this old man in Paradise Valley where Stevie Nicks lives. A rich guy and I guess this particular area is all fenced in and you got to go through security to get in. Sort of like where my parents live. Donna told him to go take a walk and he came up to this house where he heard someone singing live. Also, a real drummer or a drum machine. He said at first he wasn’t too sure if it was her but this woman was definitely recording something. He pulled a garbage can of hers into some bushes and pulled out an envelope with her name and address. He said he’s gonna keep it and write her a huge letter with some videos of him doing her in drag. So, she then continued to sing louder and clearer and he knew for sure it was her and this was her house. He said it was nighttime so he couldn’t see much but the house wasn’t too spectacular. He said it was only 1 floor but very long in length. He could see a gold record on the wall and two housekeepers. He never saw her and she never came up to the front part of the house. One housekeeper was vacuuming and another came out of a room with a baby. He walked up to her door but had no intention of knocking on it. He said there were security signs all over and that he respected her privacy but he was outside her house for two hours. He said the kitchen and dining room area were all lit up. At one point he heard what he thought was a plate drop and he first thought - run! But then he told himself it was dark, no one could see him, just quietly walk away and he did.

That’s pretty darn cool. I’d love to see Gloria’s house. Then see it on the inside. Then meet her. Then have the grandest time in bed with her!

Oh well. It’s always fun to dream. Especially when dreaming’s all you can really do.

Later…

I got up too late today but when I did there were 4 messages.

Two from Andy singing. He had called at around 7:30 AM my time. I fell asleep at around 6:30 this morning.

The third message was from Tammy telling me the Norwich Housing Authority called. They have a studio available now, and as soon as a 1-bedroom is open across the street, I can move in. She called back at 5:30 as she said she would, saying she’s gonna take a look at it tomorrow as we’re not so sure I can fit in. I have a lot of stuff as well as furniture. She’ll let me know more about it soon, she said.

The fourth message was from Ann Marie, the girl claiming to be feminine from the Advocate. I did a third-party billing deal to let her know she’s got to call me due to my blocks.

We’ll see, but her voice sounds like she may be just a wee bit too serious for me. I also hope she’s as feminine as she claims to be and isn’t career-oriented. People on disability or stupid little jobs never mix. She lives in Enfield, but depending on how much she wants sex, we’ll see if she calls back to come here. Hopefully, she at least has a car.

I hope I don’t get put on the spot and she asks me what I’m looking for. Then, if I say I’m looking for sex, she may tell me she’s looking for more than that and want to forget it altogether. I’ll try to get it out of her first but I know that no matter what she looks like, I’ll feel no real attraction. No real thing. No spark. She’ll either be repulsively ugly or another Brenda. God, I hope not another Brenda! All I need is to go through that again and meet another girl like Brenda. At least she won’t live right next door. I like the idea of the person not living in town.

Kim and I had some good talks yesterday and today. Later tonight she’s gonna come over to hear the heated conversation between Fran and Nervous.

I just tried to call Bob to play with his head, but his line was busy. He’s probably playing with Kim’s head. This guy’s as fucked up as you can get. Kim told me that I’m totally sane compared to him. That, I can confidently agree with.

I tried calling Sheila to reschedule our January 8th appointment, however, she was in juvenile court. I’ll call her tomorrow. I still haven’t heard from Tracy, but I think Tony’s gonna drive me to court. I’ll taxi my way home.

Food shopping can be worked out by either Tony or Mark. Mark’s not going to Florida with Kim.

I called Cassandra two nights ago and she was happy and relieved to hear from me. Saturday at 2:00 is when we’ll meet.

Andy’s gonna be calling me late tonight. That’s great, but I’ve got to watch my schedule.

Since I may very well be paroled out of this cage soon, I’ve got to start to round up as many boxes as I can.

Tammy told me she gave Mom and Dad my new number, but I have yet to hear from them. I hope she kept her mouth shut about the phone bill. I told them to keep it between us and to tell the whole world other than Mom and Dad. Mom’s hard enough to talk to over the phone and they cannot deal with shit like that. Therefore, so as not to make it any more difficult than it already is most of the time we talk, I told her not to mention it. She only half-bullshitted me about Andy’s phone. Andy said it almost got disconnected.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1, 1992 Age 26

The first 10 minutes of 1992 flashed some unpleasant thoughts through my mind.

What have I accomplished?

Nothing.

Where is my life going?

Nowhere.

Why do I feel as if I’ve accomplished so much but am getting nowhere in life? Silly question, huh? I still don’t know that I want to live a life of nothing or second best. Should anyone try to pretend and make themselves settle into a life they’re not happy with? If you knew for sure all the things you really want and that matter to you will never come true? If you knew you’d live your life either miserable or in between. Never really happy. Never any kind of life, fun, adventure or excitement. Just a nothing nobody on disability who knew what she wanted but couldn’t have it. Just a girl who’d like a little lust here and there and nothing more as she has self-respect, enjoys her space, can’t tolerate head games, lies and geeks. But all I get are offers from people I’m not attracted to. God just can’t allow me a person who I’m turned on by for one lousy night. A decent person and say, “ok, I’ll send her someone fairly decent that she wouldn’t be good enough for on a regular basis. All she wants is sex and that way that “decent” person won’t have to put up with her and she can have her space without this decent person trying to change her and condemn her.” Yeah, right. But I should be allowed at least some lust rather than be sent all the uglies or so-so people that are keeping me celibate. I need some fun, too.

Boy, am I mad at myself upon reviewing all the dumb things I did during 1991. The phone calls, the phone bills, losing my tapes, moving here and reality slapping me in the face.

Fucking Kim couldn’t have offered to do something with me seeing that Mark’s at work.

I have lost so much both material and non-material-wise.

My New Year’s resolution is a deal with God or whatever the fuck’s up there. I still can’t bring myself to settle happily and willingly. This was gonna be my “settlement” year. Doing all the stuff I don’t want to do and letting go of my dreams and having good sex. Instead, God will either grant me my wishes by sending me an attractive person as well as help me get my foot in the door (appropriately) with my music. Then I’ll work my ass off from there. If none of the above starts happening for me this year, I exit this boring life. As if God’s gonna answer my prayers for once and for all?

I am so pissed off at Kim and my parents never called. Has Tammy given them my new number yet?

Fran called at around 11:20. Some girl showed up at his place and he said he’d call me later or during the week.

I know I’m cursed. I know for sure. Forget about why though as I’ll probably never know why. What do I do to get rid of it? Goddamn, do I hate this life! Being sure in my mind of the things I want and knowing I’ll never achieve things. I’d never know where the fuck to begin. What an ass for believing I’d get connections somehow just cuz I could sing. This idiot thought that two years from now (1994) she’d have her foot in the door. Man, do I feel like a complete jackass!

Can’t I have just a little more than a nice place to live and some decent clothes? Material things are great. It doesn’t replace being a singer and sex, though. I’m only human and I can’t help the way I feel. I have a right to my feelings and if God’s determined to make me settle, he’d better miraculously change those feelings of mine or else I’m gone before 1993. I mean it too, as I have hung on long enough to see that nothing will ever change

Later…

I am listening to the tape that was made earlier with Fran and Nervous. It’s pretty funny.

Fran at the CC and I spoke for a little while.

Again Fran insisted that Nervous lives in a “complex.” Since he has no phone, Fran couldn’t insist the phone company was in his building ready to snatch his phone. Rather than that story, he insisted that Carabetta was buying out his building. I love Nervous’s line to Fran at one part of the tape. He says, “There’s gonna be a dead P.” Also, I was reminding Nervous about his wonderful cooking. He was cooking bacon for me when I lived on Oswego St. When he got through with it, it looked like cigarette ashes.

Later…

Not much has been happening. Still the same old boring shit. Andy hasn’t called, but I called Jessie. She’s been trying to call me but didn’t know the machine wasn’t here for a while. She then tried after that but got the recording saying the phone’s disconnected. She was eating dinner and says she’ll call me back. Kim, naturally, isn’t home. I haven’t heard from Mom and Dad either so maybe Fran will call later.

I think I hear Kim home now. It cracked me up how she feels so guilty, she tells me, and how she should’ve known better as far as her busy schedule’s concerned. Not only am I angry with her and feeling very let down and led on, but I’m also angry with myself. As much as I love this place and wanted badly to get out of Crack Alley, I should’ve known better. Never fall for anything someone tells you, you’ll only end up trapped.

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idealdieselmarine · 11 months ago

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also same we have with ser nr: 00552172 06/99 qty-1with siemens transformer type 4AM8095-0AX00-0N and pcb no G26004-A2105-P100-2

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lanshengic · 1 year ago

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Infineon launches EPR electronically marked cable assembly controller to provide overvoltage protection up to 54V for USB-C passive cables

【Lansheng Technology News】The USB-C PD controller in Infineon’s EZ-PD product series is the industry’s most comprehensive USB-C power supply solution. EZ-PD CMG2 is an EMCA dedicated controller designed for passive non-Thunderbolt cables and Thunderbolt Type-C cables, supporting USB-PD 3.1 and Type-C 2.1 standards.

The EZ-PD CMG2-based USB-C EMCA cable supports the data transfer rates of USB4 and TBT4 interfaces and charging power up to 240 W (48 V/5 A). EZ-PD CMG2 integrates functions such as VBUS to CC short circuit protection (short circuit overvoltage protection up to 54 V) and VBUS to VCONN short circuit protection (short circuit overvoltage protection up to 54 V). In addition, the controller has attenuated RA to reduce power consumption and integrates oscillator and IEC ESD (electrostatic discharge) protection, so it can operate without external clock and external ESD.

The new controller from Infineon offers configurable 47 bytes of memory space for storing vendor- and cable-specific configuration data and is capable of operating over a VCONN supply voltage range of 2.7 V to 5.5 V. Among them, the CC, VCONN1 and VCONN2 pins support high-voltage protection up to 54 V, which can prevent accidental short circuit of the high-voltage VBUS pin on the Type-C connector, thus improving the safety of use.

In addition, the controller's rated operating temperature range is the standard industrial temperature range of -40°C to +85°C, and the CC, VCONN1 and VCONN2 pins have system-level ESD protection designs to ensure that the device works in severe environments. reliability and durability.

The EZ-PD CMG2 controller is seamlessly compatible with a variety of USB-C devices and cables. It offers a single-chip solution measuring just 3.3 mm², simplifying design and reducing development time. Its outstanding system reliability and compatibility enable manufacturers to introduce cost-effective products with simple designs and smaller footprints.

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ao3feed-chicagofire · 2 years ago

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they call it meet-cute (maybe it should just be a meeting)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/0CNwrRx

by MadHare0512

"They call it a meet-cute," she whispers, lips curling around the words as they pull into a smile. A soft chuckle slips from her mouth easily, as if it hadn't been a conscious decision made. "Well," she continues. "Maybe, it should just be a meeting."

~~~

OR: you know the stories of the source content, but the CC is a little different (additional warnings in the summaries of each chapter)

Words: 1442, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Series: Part 38 of How Two LAPD Officers And One Firefighter Accidently Become The Most Powerful People on Earth

Fandoms: The Chaos Crew - Fandom, S.W.A.T. (TV 2017), NCIS, NCIS: New Orleans, One Chicago, Chicago Fire, Chicago PD (TV), Chicago Med, Grimm (TV), The Umbrella Academy (TV), The Originals (TV), NCIS: Los Angeles

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, M/M, Multi

Characters: Jim Street, Christina "Chris" Alonso, Donovan Rocker, Victor Tan, Erika Rogers, Bonnie Lonsdale, Eric Beale, G Callen, Matthew Casey, Kelly Severide, Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz, Jay Halstead, Will Halstead, Connor Rhodes (Chicago Med), Kevin Atwater, Kim Burgess, Adam Ruzek, Nick Burkhardt, Rosalee Calvert, Monroe (Grimm), Anthony DiNozzo, Jimmy Palmer, Nick Torres, Diego Hargreeves, Eudora Patch, Klaus Hargreeves, Elijah Mikaelson, Christopher LaSalle, Sebastian Lund, Dwayne "King" Pride, Other Characters Mentioned

Relationships: Christina "Chris" Alonso/Bonnie Lonsdale/Donovan Rocker/Erika Rogers/Jim Street/Victor Tan, Eric Beale/G Callen, Matthew Casey/Kelly Severide, Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz/Jay Halstead, Will Halstead/Connor Rhodes, Kevin Atwater/Kim Burgess/Adam Ruzek, Nick Burkhardt/Rosalee Calvert/Monroe, Anthony DiNozzo/Jimmy Palmer/Nick Torres, Diego Hargreeves/Eudora Patch, Klaus Hargreeves/Elijah Mikaelson, Christopher LaSalle/Sebastian Lund/Dwayne "King" Pride

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, chaos crew - Freeform, Getting Together, Meet-Cute, Established Relationship, Pre-Relationship, Developing Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Communication, Song Lyrics, song-fic, Inspired by Music, The Author Regrets Nothing, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Polyamory, Polyamorous Character

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/0CNwrRx

#chicago fire #chicago fire fanfic #ao3feed #fanfic

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kommabortsig · 2 months ago

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The_Strand_Magazine_vol.1,_no._5,_pg._450-_Disastrous_News.png

#wikimedia commons #1890s #1891 #The Strand (Volume 1) - Images #The Strand Magazine 1891 #The Strand Magazine Vol 1 #Uploaded with VicuñaUploader #PD-old missing SDC copyright status #CC-PD-Mark #PD-old-70-expired

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scifigeneration · 5 years ago

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A disc of dust and gas found around a newborn planet could be the birthplace of moons

by Valentin Christiaens and Daniel Price

The bright spot in the centre of the image is a new planet forming. Valentin Christiaens et al./ ESO, Author provided

When Italian astronomer Galileo Galilei first spotted four moons of Jupiter through a telescope, he realised that not everything goes around the Earth, as was the prevailing theory in 1610.

The presumed origin of the Galilean moons was in a swirling circumplanetary disc of gas and dust around the newborn Jupiter.

Jupiter and the four Galilean moons, a composite of several images as seen through a telescope. Flickr/Thomas Bresson, CC BY

But direct evidence of circumplanetary discs made of gas and dust eluded astronomers, despite an intensive search. Until now.

We detected the first evidence for one of these discs in the form of an infrared glow around a baby planet called PDS 70 b, the details published in two papers this week.

It was not easy to find

The discovery required one of the largest telescopes on Earth (the creatively named Very Large Telescope in Chile), a sophisticated spectrograph (SINFONI) to acquire images at different wavelengths in the infrared, and new image-processing algorithms developed specifically for the dataset we gathered.

The newborn planet orbits a star called PDS 70, which is young and relatively close to us (a trifling 369 light years away) in what is known as the Upper Centaurus-Lupus star-forming region of the Milky Way.

The star is just a baby itself, less than 10 million years old. In stellar terms PDS 70 is barely out of nappies (our Sun is 4.6 billion years old).

Apart from its youth and proximity, the main reason we chose to study PDS 70 is that previous observations showed a large hole or gap in the disc of gas and dust surrounding the star.

This hole, covering an area almost the size of our Solar System, hints at the presence of planets orbiting the star, which are responsible for carving away the disc material.

Infrared image of the newborn planet PDS 70 b (the bright spot, bottom left) and its circumplanetary disc. The actual star is in the centre of the image (marked by *) but its glare blocked out by the processing. The second brightest spot (above right) is thought to be another planet forming and is being studied by other researchers. Valentin Christiaens et al./ESO, Author provided

The new images we gathered show that the gap is not entirely empty.

They reveal arcs and spirals of dusty material, and a bright blob, which had first been detected and interpreted as a baby planet in two studies published last year.

And it’s a whopper planet - about 10 times heavier than Jupiter.

In the infrared

What is new in our analysis is that we probed infrared light from the planet at longer wavelength than previous studies. We were able to show for the first time that the planet’s infrared colours cannot be explained by its atmosphere alone.

Instead, the measured infrared excess suggests the presence of a circumplanetary disc, just like the one imagined as the birthplace of Jupiter’s four Galilean moons – Io, Europa, Ganymede and Callisto.

Decades ago, the same argument was used as evidence for the presence of protoplanetary discs, the dusty discs of gas around baby stars that are the birthplaces of planets themselves.

An illustration of a protoplanetary disk: the rings around young star suggest planet formation in progress. Shutterstock/Jurik Peter

Now we can use the same techniques but on a smaller scale to see the birthplace of moons.

The tricky part is that spotting planets with a telescope is like staring into car headlights and trying to spot a firefly. We first had to model and subtract the bright glare of the star, to spot the feeble glow of the planet.

In our processed image (above) we carefully deleted the starlight (we show the location with an asterisk), revealing both the planet and faint structures in the disc surrounding the star.

Possible moons

The discovery of the four largest moons of Jupiter four centuries ago gave astronomers a first hint that giant planets must form surrounded by a circumplanetary disc.

Plenty of work has been done since to try to understand their properties, but we finally have direct confirmation that they exist. It’s the culmination of a long search.

It’s also exciting. Our work shows that theoretical models of giant planet formation were not too far off. There is now the possibility that moons could be forming right now in the circumplanetary disc around PDS 70 b.

It’s hoped the new algorithm we developed can now be used to attempt to extract faint signals from other complex datasets of planets forming in other star systems.

It blows the mind to think we might see other planets and even moons in the process of formation, using the biggest telescope in the world. It’s just another reminder of how small and insignificant we really are.

About The Authors:

Valentin Christiaens is a Research Fellow in Astrophysics at Monash University and Daniel Price is an Associate Professor in Astrophysics and ARC Future Fellow, also at Monash University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license.

#science #space #astronomy #astrophysics #science news

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 1 year ago

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Track Marks And Dial Tones II

Summary: You promised Clay to get him help but for that, the two of you still need to make it through the night…

Pairing: Clay Roach x fem!cop!Reader

Word Count: ~2.7k

Content Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat 18+!, Major Hurt/Comfort, Still Angsty, The Slow Burn Is Slowly Burning Y'all, Kinda Calm And Domestic Vibes For A Treacherous Second, Talk About Rehab, Talk About Track Marks, Brief Mentions Of Other Substances (Painkillers And Alcohol), Talk About Past Self-Harm, Clay Still Being Miserable, Crying, A Short Sloppy Make Out Session In The Shower, Smutty Cliffhanger 😬

A/N: I actively lost my mind over this, y'all. Major shout out to @cc-luvr for listening to my demented rambles and proofreading this stuff 🫶🏻

Find Part I and Part III here!

Tagging the horde:

You are all I need

You're all I need

I'm in the middle of your picture

Lying in the reeds

I am a moth

Who just wants to share your light

I'm just an insect

Trying to get out of the night

- All I Need By Radiohead

You knew that you should just hand in your resignation at the Boston PD by now, kiss your badge goodbye and face the fact to get demoted to filing parking tickets again. The second someone just got so much as a whiff of you taking your informant in at your own home would have you suspended in absolutely no time whatsoever. Anyhow, that train of thought had to wait while you scooped a hastily put together grilled cheese sandwich from the pan to a small plate and placed it onto your kitchen table right next to a cup of hot chocolate.

"I know, it's not strawberry milk but basically the next best thing now, no?" You tried to sound a little cheerful although there was nearly no energy left inside of you.

Hauling Clay out if his hellhole of a flat had been hard enough on both of you since he practically broke down crying anew every few steps down the way. Only when you'd put on the heating and the radio in your car did Clay calm down eventually.

Before answering to you, Clay just looked at the food with wide eyes, his form hardly more than a weak silhouette slumped in your kitchen chair. In that moment it dawned on your sleep-deprived mind that he probably hasn't had a real home-cooked meal in god knows how long. While you wouldn't even really call a grilled cheese sandwich home-cooked, it meant the world and more to Clay, who still just stared at it, seemingly hypnotized by the token of hospitality in front of him.

"Thank you…you didn’t…it wouldn't have been necessary." He expressed his gratitude with a sore voice and looked up to you as you took a seat in front of him, your own late-night snack in hand.

"But I wanted to.", You smiled at him softly but with obviously very tired undertones, "Now, please, dig in."

Your invitation to take a bite of the sandwich had hardly left your lips as Clay already munched down on it.

"Please don't choke yourself, okay? I said I'd drive you to rehab first thing in the morning, not the morgue." It rolled over your tongue in an upright and honest chuckle.

"It's kinda the same thing, depending how you look at it." Clay snarled back, the sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Oh, c'mon now.." You arched your brows at him while taking a much needed bite out of your own sandwich.

"Sorry…" Clay broke from your gaze with an apologetic expression on his face before downright devouring the cheese-stuffed toast and chugging down the cup of hot chocolate, seemingly unbothered by the possibility of burning his mouth with the fresh from the stove liquid.

"That good?", You asked in between bites, the crunchy and creamy texture of the warm sandwich feeling like a near orgasmic experience to your whiplashed senses, "Do you need anything else? Painkillers…alcohol…whatever really?"

"No, not…not yet." Clay shimmied around in his chair a little, "I'm kinda cold though.."

"Maybe a hot shower would help with that? No offense, Clay, but you could use one.." You suggested, eating up the last bits of your sandwich.

"I know.", He reciprocated dryly, "But.."

"But what?" You inquired calmly, taking a deep drag from your steaming cup of coffee.

"The last time I tried, I got heart palpitations, fainted and nearly smashed my head on the fucking tiles.." For the blink of an eye you just stared at him with a deadpan expression on your face.

"Do you need help with that then?" Your question was sincere.

"Fuck off, I'm not a toddler that needs to be mothered." Clay pursed his lips as he started chewing on the insides of his cheeks, crossing his arms in front of his chest in resignation.

"I never implied that, Clay. You asked for help and I am offering it to you. Simple as that." You knew all too well that the current situation you found yourself in was everything but simple, however, that was a problem for sometime tomorrow.

"I'll just be there, making sure that maybe you won't flail out of my shower head first." You suggested while looking at him, waiting for an answer.

It took a good moment of silence for him to redirect his eyes towards yours right before he mumbled: "I'm….I'm embarrassed. My body.. is- is not in a good condition, shocker, I know."

"Clay…", You sighed after taking another sip of coffee, "An hour ago, I pulled a needle from your arm. There's nothing you'd have to be embarrassed about, I promise you."

In a nervous, clearly still unsure motion, he rubbed his palms together, pulling the hem of his sleeves up to his knuckles.

"Promise?" He furrowed his brows and bit down on his bottom lip.

"I promise." You assured him, "How about you go upstairs? It's the first door to the right and I get you some fresh clothes from my wardrobe while you make yourself as comfortable as you can, hm?"

"I guess we can try that." You knew it was the best you could get out of him about that and you acknowledged it with a nod while scooting away from the table.

"I'll be with you right away, yeah?" You smiled at Clay before putting both plates in the sink and taking the stairs towards your bedroom.

At this point, you just left him to himself for a moment. Sure, you thought about him taking his chance and running. Maybe the next thing you'd hear would be the slamming of your front door but that would be his choice then. A choice you wouldn't take from him, there was no use to that. Clay was here on his own accord and you left it up to him to show you that he really wanted this.

While you pulled a long-sleeved shirt from the bottom of your wardrobe's drawer, accompanied by one of your oversized sweatpants, you felt your heart thrashing against your ribcage. Your ears were picking up every possible sound and you couldn't help yourself but to wish that he wouldn't do anything stupid. The pent-up breath leaving your lungs in a heavy sigh as you heard the creaking of the stairs should've given it away to yourself, practically rubbing it into your face that Clay had grown important to you, but you chose active denial instead.

"There should be a leftover toothbrush on the shelf above the sink if you want to use it!" You called down the hallway, folding the clothes into one neat pile before getting up from the carpet floor of your bedroom.

"Noted." Clay answered back after stepping into your bathroom, not fully closing the door behind him.

Before stepping in after him you gently knocked.

"Can I come in?" You asked in a soft tone, leaning your shoulder against the door.

"Uh-Huh." He mumbled in return, the toothbrush already between his jaws.

Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you pushed the door open slowly, the pale skin of Clay's back facing you.

You tried your best not to stare like a total idiot, but the way you could practically count his ribs and the intervertebral disks of his spine up to the nape of his neck had you stunned for a second. Tearing your gaze away from him, you placed the clothes on top of the laundry bin right next to the door and sat down on the closed toilet seat beside the sink, getting yourself out of your PJ pants first.

Up until that moment, you didn't waste a second thought about your own body in this whole scenario but as the soft fabric of the pants pooled on the tiles in front of you, the discomfort shot as a hot wave into your cheeks. Clearing your throat a little, you silently stared down on your thighs, faded out, thick scar tissue ogling right back, mocking you in a way.

"How about…", Clay spat out an amalgamation of saliva and toothpaste, leaning his hands against the sink, "You just stare at me for a moment while I do the same. Get it over with."

"Yeah, hold on…", You pulled the PJ top off, too, leaving you in your underwear. "Now it's fair.."

Your eyes traced the trail of self-induced scars up to your navel before you raised your head back to Clay.

"What happened?" He asked bluntly, turning himself to you, vulnerable and exposed, the waistband of his shorts sitting loosely on his pointy hip bones.

"I could ask you the same." You chuckled dryly, your eyes wandering over his torso, ribs poking through just like his collarbones.

"Life, I'm afraid." He responded in an equally dry tone.

"Same here.", You shrugged your shoulders a little, "How about we put some antiseptics on the puncture sites? They look like they could use some. I have a bottle in the drawer to your left."

With a short nod Clay opened up the drawer, pulling out not only said bottle of antiseptic lotion but also a still wrapped shut set of razor blades.

"The monsters still live in the closet, huh?" He put the package back as fast as he'd pulled it from the drawer.

"They never really moved out, no." You confessed, gathering a few pieces of toilet paper to douse it in the disinfectant.

"I wonder if they ever do." Clay sighed, inhaling sharply as you caressed the plentiful of his track marks with the improvised paper swab.

"Thank you…" You pat every little inch on the inside of his elbow carefully.

"For what?" Clay sounded thoroughly confused.

"For trusting me, shitbum." You said in return, throwing him a faint yet upright smile.

"Uh, sure…" He shrugged it off while you dumped the soggy toilet paper into a trash can underneath the sink.

"Now let's get into that shower, no?" You nudged your head towards the shower.

"Yeah, uhm…", Clay's eyes darted down to his shorts, "Should I…I mean..?"

"Whatever you are comfortable with." You got up and stepped underneath the shower head, fumbling with the faucet handle to not just drench the both of you in ice cold water.

"Uh, okay…" He mumbled, deciding to leave his boxers on before cautiously following you.

"Is the temperature okay for you?" You reached out to gently grab his hand by the wrist, holding it under the softly flowing stream of warm, but not exactly hot water.

"A bit more, maybe? I don't wanna burn you but I feel like I'm freezing." He asked hesitantly.

"Sure, don't worry about me, okay?" You pushed the handle a little more to the left.

"How about now? That better?" A wave of significantly warmer water hit your front and the palm of his hand.

"Yeah…" Clay smiled contentedly whilst stepping into the flow of water coming from above.

A long, low humm of comfort left his lips while you watched him closely as the water soaked his unkempt hair and cascaded down his body.

"Fuck…that feels good." He sighed with eyes closed, his hand now holding on to yours for guidance.

"Good, I got you, yeah?" You carefully wrapped your fingers a little tighter around his, slowly crouching down to pick up a bottle of shampoo.

You let him soak in the heat of the water for a while before you asked: "Mind taking just a little step towards me? I think we should take some care of that hair if yours, no?"

"Sure…" Clay blindly stepped out of the frequent stream, now just standing inches away from you.

With your free hand you unscrewed the bottle and tilted it over the crown of his head until a big dollop of shampoo oozed out of it.

"Am I going to smell like flowers and berries now?" He chuckled whilst you put the bottle back down and started lathering his scalp with tender, circular movements of your fingertips.

"Actually…" You started, his comment eliciting a short laugh out of you as well, "It's mint and green apple scented."

"Oh, I can get behind that." He murmured, his face clearly telling you how much he enjoyed you soaping up his hair right now.

"Well, it's not like you really got a say in this, huh?" You returned, delicately letting go of his hand to put both of yours to use throughout his knotted hair.

"Yeesh, we'll need a lot of conditioner to tame that mess." You noted with slightly pursed lips.

"Conditioner now, too, yeah? Gon' be the best smelling lowlife in rehab tomorrow." At first you smiled but soon enough the reality of his comment hit you deep down again.

For an innocent, foolish moment you simply forgot about it, had allowed yourself to get carried away.

You tried your best to not sound too taken aback as you uttered: "So, you really want it?"

At that Caly also lost his faint smile and you deeply regretted every word that just left your mouth.

"Fuck, sorry…" You whispered to him, feeling sorry for the both of you for bluntly trashing the moment like that.

"No, stop…it's okay.", With his hair full of bubbly shampoo, Clay took another blind step towards you, nearly bumping into you, his arms clumsily wrapping themselves around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder, "It's a valid question and the answer is yes."

For seemingly endless seconds your severely overworked brain oh so desperately tried to compute what was happening.

"Are…are you hugging me right now?" You stammered awkwardly.

"Kinda looks like it, no?" Clay answered, wrapping his arms closer around you as if to prove his point.

"Oh-, okay, cool…", You felt your mind gradually losing the plot, being so utterly stunned by his display of affection, "Let's…how about we rinse that shampoo out now." Trying to regain your composure, you cupped his hips with your hands, gently guiding him back underneath the steady flow of steaming, warm water.

"Yeah, sure…" It bubbled out of his mouth as you watched the shampoo residue slowly trickling down the drain.

Yet again, Clay rested his chin in the crook of your neck, his face slightly tilting towards your collarbone. In this very moment you felt his lips brushing over your skin, his wet hair falling across your shoulder and it led you to forsake all rational reason for good.

In a moment of unadulterated senselessness your hands cupped his face, pulling it up to yours to press a painfully longing kiss to his lips.

"Fuck…" Clay huffed right before reciprocating the kiss, practically shoving himself onto you, tightening his hug around your lower body.

"Shit, fucking hell…no.. we shouldn't-" You rambled into his mouth.

"I know but fuck that." He groaned nonchalantly.

#rory culkin #city on a hill #clay roach x fem!reader #clay roach x you #clay roach x reader #clay roach #clay roach smut #Track Marks And Dial Tones

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