#I am turning to hate 1st DAYS of every month

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

You up? (baby daddy AU: College days prequels)

Baby Daddy Masterlist

Context: this is Post break up.

Word count: 400

Not proofread

—

12:35 am.

Fourteen month old Gabri is sleeping peacefully in her crib, the room consumed in darkness with exception to the light glow from your laptop. Tired fingers idly typing out yet another senior paper, trying to not type too loudly since she is such a light sleeper. With your phone turned on silent mode, you didn’t even noticed you got a new message till you checked the time.

Miguel 🫤: You up?

Oh god. You bite your lip as you stare at the message. I shouldn’t respond, I’m just gonna end up in his car and either we end up making out and arguing. You thought as you placed your phone face down, shifting your attention back to your laptop…

For only about five seconds until you reached for your phone again and opened the message.

You: I’m doing homework.

You: why?

You didn’t even have a chance to put your phone back down before the screen lit up again.

Miguel🫤: Miss you.

You: Gabriella’s asleep.

Despite your front of resistance at the idea, you have to admit it was hard for you to say no. It was always hard to say that to him. The break up was bad, messy, the only reason you haven’t blocked his number and never show your face around him was because of your daughter.

But… You missed him.

You missed the sharing of a bed with your little bundle of joy tucked between you two. You missed baking cookies at three in the morning when you were supposed to be pulling an all nighter studying. Missed being invited to the same group hang out without the other being excluded, and the way Mj and Peter would coo and all but steal Gabriella away from you both the entire time. Missed the tender kiss, and the whispered sweet nothings, the ‘I love you’s…

Now, everything is different, just you and Gabriella in your old childhood room a few streets away from your old apartment where your ex boyfriend is.

So like always, like every other time he called… you came.

“Hey mom, dad…is it okay if you can watch Gabriella for a bit? I-I know it’s late but Mj and Peter got into a fight and-“

God you hated lying to them.

“Of course honey, go go. I’ll turn on the baby monitor.” Your dad assured you as he got up and out of bed, giving you a kiss on the forehead as he walked past you and back into your room.

You hated how trusting they were of you.

“Thanks, I’ll be back soon.”

You hated how you still craved Miguel so much despite it all.

—

“Hey…”

“Hey.”

You hated the nerves you always got appearing on your his doorstep.

“You gonna come in or just stare at me?” The way his head tilted when he teased you, how you saw the glimmer in his eyes when he looked at you still…

You made sure to lock the door behind you.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED

taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush

@queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @reader-1290 @laysmt @migueloharasoulmate @fruityfucker @pigeonmama @scaryplanetdestroyer @migueloharastruelove

@krentkova19 @genny1019 @maiyart @stressed-cherry @haveclayeveryday @leonsbimbogf @bmoplanet @carmison @c4rm1son :

@scaleniusrm @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanmee @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry

@maxinemus3 @aaaaslaaaan @kenz-ee @esmedelacroix @whattheshock @syler-griffin @comeonatmebruh @xwonderlandresidentx @m4dyy @the-pan-liquid @lilbrababe99 @jxstanemo @badbitchhour @freehentai @sillysillygoofygoose @nj452896 @jadeloverxd @faretheeoscar @ce3stvu @scorpihoooe @blossomofbismuths @nxxav3rs3 @ilovespiderverseeee @ghost-lantern @saaaaaaaaaaaamiiiiiiiiiiiira @lavenderslemonade @rinnako @reirain @nommingonfood @miguelsfavwife @tomalymme @farrowroyale @beckberin-xo @chrishy973 @amberpanda99 @thesmutconnoisseur @candied-snails22 @nanam1 @namjoons-baby @urbimom @cherrycosmos392 @beaberr-xo @night-spectrum @Chrissymodi-frost @electricgg @ohara-whore @coquitokisses @lilmiss-stussy @Sukunash0e

[lesbiheon]

tagged by @dreamaze @honeyimissjoo for the cc year in review - every month in 2023 - thank you wings 🪽💜! thank you eri 🐝💛!

rule: line your favorite and/or most popular post from each month this year (skipping months is fine!) and tag some ccs you love!

tagging @froghwon & anyone who would like to do this!!!

january (21): fav (tie between hyungwon's & ck's bday sets! these were incredibly fun to make creatively & research-wise) + most popular (hyungwon & ck in the beautiful liar mv)

(the rest of the months & corresponding gifs below the cut :3)

february (5): fav (jooheon's 1st day as the mc of m countdown! pls ignore the quality of this 200x300 gif...) + most popular (jooheon being amazed by minhyuk doing his thing during the recording of "it's alright" so true!)

march (7): fav (fav shownu era during the #shownureturns event i teamed up w @/monstax-info to host 💕 love killa era you will always be famous!!! loved this coloring toooo... don't mind the quality hnnnnng!) + most popular (from the @/shownueats sideblog shownu's rant about carbs lol)

april (7): fav (pd jooheon on peak time! "turning point" was one of my fav 2023 tracks!!!) + most popular (another set from the @/shownueats sideblog! my fav shownu variety show which is ofc yum-yum yum-yum not surprising hehe)

may (9): fav (tie between freedom mv & freedom solo debut stage @ m countdown bc after YEARS of hating perf sets (giffing) this one came out sooooo nice i shocked myself also this was joolo month 💛!!!!!!!) + most popular (the zagis @ inkigayo 💕 GOD I MISS THEM ｡°(°.◜ᯅ◝°)°｡

june (7): fav (shownu as text posts for his bday set bc silly sets like these are my absolute fav to make) + most popular (freedom mv behind where jooheon looks like danny phantom personified lollllll)

july (14): fav (jooheon showing up on hyungwon's last day of being inkigayo's mc bc that right there is love) + most popular (cute ck from cosmo behind<3)

august (8): fav (jooheon's hair colors through the eras ugh i loved working on this one!!! i rewatched soooo many monchannel eps & the ones from 2017/2018... they had me cracking up at like 3 am bc they're all so funny & I'm always missing ot7 so there's that... plus! the coloring came out so cohesive i was really happy w the outcome) + most popular (mx + wonho as text posts again another fun silly set!)

september (1): only 1 set this month :0!!! so fav + most popular was shownu wiping mayo that had fallen on hyungwon's shirt & then proceeding to lick it off his finger bc ofc no food shall be EVER be wasted in his presence!!!!!!!!)

october (7): fav (jooheon's bday set! i worked so hard on this one T___T also narrowing down my fav jooheon songs was roughhhh his music is incredible yknow?) + most popular (xiumin calling hyungwon pretty & the producer dropping some hilarious news lolllll)

november (5): fav (minhyuk's bday set!!!!! bc i loooooove making playlists dedicated to the monstas :'-) & also bc i finished this set after years of working on it ;;; i kept adding them removing then adding etc. songs) + most popular (muscle!won)

december (6): fav (hyungwon + that look when performing 👀) + most popular (shownu shocked by shirtless hyungwon getting hair & mu done lol)

[concerninglyconfusedcherry]

Twenty-Three and...

I turn twenty-three tomorrow. I feel as if this year has been one big rising action and the climax is just hours away. 

In reality, I’ve turned twenty-three what feels like three hundred times over since January 1st. For the past 9 months, I’ve been saying being twenty-three and perpetually single or since I’m twenty-three and completely lost and once again have to be reminded that my twenty-third trip around the sun has yet to be completed and I am still only twenty-two. 

There is something comforting about being twenty-three but… (but actually twenty-two). I had time, there was no reason to worry about all the embarrassment that would come along with twenty-three and…(and unemployed, sexually inexperienced, alone). When I was twenty-three but, I would excuse the rabbit hole I was falling down with ignorance of youth. Twenty-three and is no longer young enough to feign not knowing better. 

I don’t know what it is about this age that has shaken me so deeply; I feel as if I am planning a funeral. And maybe in a way, I am. A funeral for the teenage dream I never got to live. For the crazy twenty-first birthday bash, I never got to have. The first love I never got to kiss. The reckless nights that could only be excused with sayings like kids will be kids and we’ve all been seventeen. All of the experiences that youth permits, or even promises, passed me by and I have nothing to show for it. 

I am walking into my twenty-third year feeling as pathetic as I did every day at twenty-three but. Those extra few months acted as protection from the embarrassment and shame of everything that came with being twenty-three and undesirable, unattractive, unhappy. It is all supposed to come with age but they never said which age it comes with. 

I once read that everyone hates you at twenty-three and I’m beginning to wonder if it's because of how much you hate yourself. There is something unbearable about a twenty-three-year-old’s anger at the world around her, who carries around a heavy heart that she feels has been tainted by everyone she’s let touch it. 

At twenty-three you’re too old for the residual angsty attitude of your youth but have yet to find the time to adopt a new one. Moving to a new city, starting a new job, and getting back on dating apps all feel like more pathetic attempts to soothe the burn you get from growing up. The past few months I’ve questioned every decision I’ve made, thought that I’ve had, and character flaw I’ve found. At twenty-three you’re supposed to have the answers—I’ve yet to find any. Instead, I dug deep and I found my willingness to compromise on my morals for validation and a lack of enthusiasm to pursue my passion rooted in fear of failure. 

But I’ll blow out all my candles and wish myself a happy birthday anyway. Maybe this year as a twenty-three-year-old will prove to be more fruitful than the last.

[alegocarmadein]

Long read ahead I do warn.

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

Somber. Morose. Melancholy. Those three are my holy grail of insane meanings.

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

Yeah my own work, the Shaman was too late. So, I wrote it in 2021. Very beginning of 2021. I had just been put on bupropian, after years of trying anti-depressants, it finally worked. Slowly. But I still had psychosis, so I'm getting less depressed but I'm still psychotic. And literally the last day of 2020 into the early hours of Jan 1st 2021, I listened to (and binged) Kane and Feels. Obsessed. FUCKING OBSESSED. IMMEDIATELY. But I was off of social media in its entirety, so I had one (1) person to scream at and she was busy in school and shit. So I turn my mind to fanfiction. Psychosis is a BITCH. It robbed me of my memory during and after, it made me paranoid, and a horrible insomniac. So I sit in my room and formulate this plot in the early hours of morning, just muttering to myself. This weird story that would not ever truly make sense but vaguely had a plot and a destination. And I wrote it! And because my memory was so terribly dogshit, every night and every morning, in between edits and writing fits, I would read it. Uh. Out loud. It took hours to read, partially because of how long it was, partially because my reading skills were close to non existent. For a while I considered making a podfic of it to go along with it, but I didn't have recording equipment or money! I was really isolated and spent well over a hundred, maybe two hundred hours on a 13k fic. My writing skills at the time were…diminished, and far from polished, so it took a lot of edits to make it readable. But it was my baby. It was the first fic I'd truly fallen in love with of my own. And eventually I posted it and didn't hate it like all of my others. I would reread it every month, sometimes every week after, checking for errors (of which there were many). Again, my baby. And still, I consider it one of my best fics, this fic I wrote in between 16 hour sleeps, interrupted often by hallucinations and paranoia attacks. And its just terribly special to me, because I know it so very well. I spent two months writing it, and I love that fic, truly. 

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

Okay its not really a subject matter, but fluff? So hard. Don't get me wrong, I can come up with it and put it on paper….but keeping it around is sooooo very hard. I am very much a kill-the-part-of-you-that-cringes, but with kaf especially….eeek. Like the first bit of physical affection I think we've ever been aware of them doing is in the end of WHY, right? So writing close affection is like….babe no, this is Kane we're talking about. but….I think I've had enough independent events/developments (character wise) through my string of fics that I can stretch the lines a bit and put in a little affection here and there. Not super shippy either, just…"holy fuck I'm so glad you're alive that really sucked man." oh and verbal affection is a BITCH. Dude NO. I can't. it never sounds reasonable. I can't do fluffy I CAN'T DO FLUFFY. I'M A MAN OF ANGST DEAR READER. ANGST. Anyway, I wrote a fic about them waltzing. You should read it. And I'm also really proud of the next of kin scene in Next of Kin.

And memory related magic trauma whatzits are my favorite thing to write. I have it so many fics of mine. Psychosis <3 you are so fun to write about, my beloathed.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

This is from The Shaman was too late, near the very end.

"Lucifer Kane is standing on a cliff, overseeing a hazy ocean with a soft lavender-grey sky. Distant golden-grey light shines through the clouds, and the smell of salt and a gust of a warm, ocean breeze puts him at ease."

First off, full name, this is serious talk. Usually I call him Kane, Lucifer when I'm trying to make a point, full name is for introductions and endings. The present tense is something I very rarely do, I generally get tripped up with present tense. The only other time recently I've used it is in Next of Kin at the very end of chapter 4-7, where Kane notices Brutus and is back in the present moment. Weird choice. And I don't really know why I had such a clear image of the hazy ocean with the golden light, streaming down, crepuscular rays (god's rays) streaming from the cloud, but still hazy. The lavender grey was such a spur of the moment thing while I was writing it, it's the color theme for the fic, the other worlds are lavender grey all over. I knew I wanted an emotional yet…like…quiet moment for them being reunited? Keep in mind at that point only season one and WHO, the first ep of season two had been put out, so no hand squeezes, no ocean, not yet, no reuniting, and I didn't know if kaf would ever be coming back. Sigh. Rough times. Well the scene at least hit dyn hard enough for them to make some really baller art of that scene, so I'm happy.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

so…..so much. Most of the time at least. Big fics are almost guaranteed to have a separate notes document with a general outline, to keep my ideas on track. You usually find them in the final end note on the fic, though occasionally they're too messy to really share. This is actually what has tripped me up so bad with the sequel to Next of Kin that I've been working on FOR A FUCKING YEAR NOW, JESUS, is that I wrote an outline for an ending, went a completely different direction, wrote a new outline, then changed it again and now I'm super duper stuck and have no clue how to get to the end. :\ 

It's a document with bullet points or checkboxes with short plot points and weird details/characters/places I want to add. I ignore them at my will. I actually do enjoy it…for any other fic than the elphame fic. jesus.

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

a fucken weirdo. Not like. WEIRD weirdo, just a weirdo. like, that artist who did the beautiful, colorful cat potraits that look very interesting? the one who had schizophrenia so now everyone attributes the weirder ones to his mental illness instead of to his creative ability? louis wain? I feel like they'd attribute all the weirder stuff I write to mental illness, when instead that was hand crafted and delivered by my loving, not-really-stable-i-kinda-have-a-tremor-but-lets-pretend hands.

(https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/1/12/Louis_wain_cats.png)

(my ao3) https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlegoCarmadein/profile

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

(Not my poem (rest of the post is a poem))

Ode to Silence by Edna St. Vincent Millay

---

Aye, but she?

Your other sister and my other soul

Grave Silence, lovelier

Than the three loveliest maidens, what of her?

Clio, not you,

Not you, Calliope,

Nor all your wanton line,

Not Beauty's perfect self shall comfort me

For Silence once departed,

For her the cool-tongued, her the tranquil-hearted,

Whom evermore I follow wistfully,

Wandering Heaven and Earth and Hell and the four seasons through;

Thalia, not you,

Not you, Melpomene,

Not your incomparable feet, O thin Terpsichore, I seek in this great hall,

But one more pale, more pensive, most beloved of you all.

I seek her from afar,

I come from temples where her altars are,

From groves that bear her name,

Noisy with stricken victims now and sacrificial flame,

And cymbals struck on high and strident faces

Obstreperous in her praise

They neither love nor know,

A goddess of gone days,

Departed long ago,

Abandoning the invaded shrines and fanes

Of her old sanctuary,

A deity obscure and legendary,

Of whom there now remains,

For sages to decipher and priests to garble,

Only and for a little while her letters wedged in marble,

Which even now, behold, the friendly mumbling rain erases,

And the inarticulate snow,

Leaving at last of her least signs and traces

None whatsoever, nor whither she is vanished from these places.

"She will love well," I said,

"If love be of that heart inhabiter,

The flowers of the dead;

The red anemone that with no sound

Moves in the wind, and from another wound

That sprang, the heavily-sweet blue hyacinth,

That blossoms underground,

And sallow poppies, will be dear to her.

And will not Silence know

In the black shade of what obsidian steep

Stiffens the white narcissus numb with sleep?

(Seed which Demeter's daughter bore from home,

Uptorn by desperate fingers long ago,

Reluctant even as she,

Undone Persephone,

And even as she set out again to grow

In twilight, in perdition's lean and inauspicious loam).

She will love well," I said,

"The flowers of the dead;

Where dark Persephone the winter round,

Uncomforted for home, uncomforted,

Lacking a sunny southern slope in northern Sicily,

With sullen pupils focussed on a dream,

Stares on the stagnant stream

That moats the unequivocable battlements of Hell,

There, there will she be found,

She that is Beauty veiled from men and Music in a swound."

"I long for Silence as they long for breath

Whose helpless nostrils drink the bitter sea;

What thing can be

So stout, what so redoubtable, in Death

What fury, what considerable rage, if only she,

Upon whose icy breast,

Unquestioned, uncaressed,

One time I lay,

And whom always I lack,

Even to this day,

Being by no means from that frigid bosom weaned away,

If only she therewith be given me back?"

I sought her down that dolorous labyrinth,

Wherein no shaft of sunlight ever fell,

And in among the bloodless everywhere

I sought her, but the air,

Breathed many times and spent,

Was fretful with a whispering discontent,

And questioning me, importuning me to tell

Some slightest tidings of the light of day they know no more,

Plucking my sleeve, the eager shades were with me where I went.

I paused at every grievous door,

And harked a moment, holding up my hand,—and for a space

A hush was on them, while they watched my face;

And then they fell a-whispering as before;

So that I smiled at them and left them, seeing she was not there.

I sought her, too,

Among the upper gods, although I knew

She was not like to be where feasting is,

Nor near to Heaven's lord,

Being a thing abhorred

And shunned of him, although a child of his,

(Not yours, not yours; to you she owes not breath,

Mother of Song, being sown of Zeus upon a dream of Death).

Fearing to pass unvisited some place

And later learn, too late, how all the while,

With her still face,

She had been standing there and seen me pass, without a smile,

I sought her even to the sagging board whereat

The stout immortals sat;

But such a laughter shook the mighty hall

No one could hear me say:

Had she been seen upon the Hill that day?

And no one knew at all

How long I stood, or when at last I sighed and went away.

There is a garden lying in a lull

Between the mountains and the mountainous sea,

I know not where, but which a dream diurnal

Paints on my lids a moment till the hull

Be lifted from the kernel

And Slumber fed to me.

Your foot-print is not there, Mnemosene,

Though it would seem a ruined place and after

Your lichenous heart, being full

Of broken columns, caryatides

Thrown to the earth and fallen forward on their jointless knees,

And urns funereal altered into dust

Minuter than the ashes of the dead,

And Psyche's lamp out of the earth up-thrust,

Dripping itself in marble wax on what was once the bed

Of Love, and his young body asleep, but now is dust instead.

There twists the bitter-sweet, the white wisteria Fastens its fingers in the strangling wall,

And the wide crannies quicken with bright weeds;

There dumbly like a worm all day the still white orchid feeds;

But never an echo of your daughters' laughter

Is there, nor any sign of you at all

Swells fungous from the rotten bough, grey mother of Pieria!

Only her shadow once upon a stone

I saw,—and, lo, the shadow and the garden, too, were gone.

I tell you you have done her body an ill,

You chatterers, you noisy crew!

She is not anywhere!

I sought her in deep Hell;

And through the world as well;

I thought of Heaven and I sought her there;

Above nor under ground

Is Silence to be found,

That was the very warp and woof of you,

Lovely before your songs began and after they were through!

Oh, say if on this hill

Somewhere your sister's body lies in death,

So I may follow there, and make a wreath

Of my locked hands, that on her quiet breast

Shall lie till age has withered them!

                             (Ah, sweetly from the rest

I see

Turn and consider me

Compassionate Euterpe!)

"There is a gate beyond the gate of Death,

Beyond the gate of everlasting Life,

Beyond the gates of Heaven and Hell," she saith,

"Whereon but to believe is horror!

Whereon to meditate engendereth

Even in deathless spirits such as I

A tumult in the breath,

A chilling of the inexhaustible blood

Even in my veins that never will be dry,

And in the austere, divine monotony

That is my being, the madness of an unaccustomed mood.

This is her province whom you lack and seek;

And seek her not elsewhere.

Hell is a thoroughfare

For pilgrims,—Herakles,

And he that loved Euridice too well,

Have walked therein; and many more than these;

And witnessed the desire and the despair

Of souls that passed reluctantly and sicken for the air;

You, too, have entered Hell,

And issued thence; but thence whereof I speak

None has returned;—for thither fury brings

Only the driven ghosts of them that flee before all things.

Oblivion is the name of this abode: and she is there."

Oh, radiant Song! Oh, gracious Memory!

Be long upon this height

I shall not climb again!

I know the way you mean,—the little night,

And the long empty day,—never to see

Again the angry light,

Or hear the hungry noises cry my brain!

Ah, but she,

Your other sister and my other soul,

She shall again be mine;

And I shall drink her from a silver bowl,

A chilly thin green wine,

Not bitter to the taste,

Not sweet,

Not of your press, oh, restless, clamorous nine,—

To foam beneath the frantic hoofs of mirth—

But savoring faintly of the acid earth,

And trod by pensive feet

From perfect clusters ripened without haste

Out of the urgent heat

In some clear glimmering vaulted twilight under the odorous vine.

Lift up your lyres! Sing on!

But as for me, I seek your sister whither she is gone.

Weird Questions for Writers (because writers are weird)

1. What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

3. What is your writing ritual and why is it cursed?

4. What’s a word that makes you go absolutely feral?

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?

6. What is your darkest fear about writing?

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

8. If you had to write an entire story without either action or dialogue, which would you choose and how would it go?

9. Do you believe in ghosts? This isn’t about writing I just wanna know

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

12. If a genie offered you three writing wishes, what would they be? Btw if you wish for more wishes the genie turns all your current WIPs into Lorem Ipsum, I don’t make the rules

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?

14. Do you lend your books to people? Are people scared to borrow books from you? Do you know exactly where all your “lost” books are and which specific friend from school you haven’t seen in twelve years still possesses them? Will you ever get them back?

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

16. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?

17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end. Spicy addition: Questioner provides the passage.

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you’ve always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?

22. How organized are you with your writing? Describe to me your organization method, if it exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks? Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

23. Describe the physical environment in which you write. Be as detailed as possible. Tell me what’s around you as you work. Paint me a picture.

24. How much prep work do you put into your stories? What does that look like for you? Do you enjoy this part or do you just want to get on with it?

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

27. Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

30. Talk to me about the role dreams play in your writing life. Have you ever used material from your dreams in your writing? Have you ever written in a dream? Did you remember it when you woke up?

31. Write a short love letter to your readers.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing? Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it entirely separate?

34. Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:

35. What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

36. They say to Write What You Know. Setting aside for a moment the fact that this is terrible advice…what do you Know?

37. If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

40. Please share a poem with me, I need it.

[anthonysstupiddailyblog]

Anthony's Stupid Daily Blog (896): Sun 1st Sep 2024

Today was predictably depressingly dull and foggy as is often the case on the first day of September. I’m going to try to spend the Autumn and Winter months consumed in hobbies in order to try and forget about the acrid weather but…urgh…half a year of this shite (bare minimum). I can’t remember hating the cold this much when I was a kid in fact I can remember going out on my scooter with my friends when there was snow on the ground so having to defrost my toes in a bowl of warm water every morning mustn’t have bothered me at some point. Hopefully I’ll be rewarded for surviving another six months of this shitty weather with a trip around Europe next year but it’s definitely going to drag like a bitch. 

At four I went over to my sisters house to pick Luna up to take her to the arcade. When I get home on Saturday nights when Mam is babysitting her I’m usually too tired to play with her so I’ve started setting Thursdays aside so I can have a play day with Luna. There’s a claw prize grabber game she keeps playing where you grab golden eggs and a few of them have keys in them which unlock doors with prizes behind them and she keeps wasting money trying in vain to win one. Most of the games are fucking tipoffs too as you can get high scores for minimum rewards. One of Luna’s favourite games is the one where you roll a ball towards a ramp which propels it towards different holes with different values written on them. The hole at the top has 10,000 written on it so is clearly the most valuable one to aim for. I got the bell in this hole today and was rewarded with ten whole tickets. Fucking bullshit, for a quid a turn you should get way more than this for landing it in the most difficult hole. If I had a lawyer I’d have a word with her about this (yes my lawyer would be a woman because I am a feminist and also a judge is more likely to side with a claimant whose lawyer has enormous tits). Luna managed to acquire a good few hundred tickets tonight but as usual rather than save them up for a decent prize she spent them all on tat, mainly little sweets in the shape of burgers and pizzas. For the amount of money I spent today we Luke have bought some actual burgers and pizzas 

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, MAY 31, 2000 They’re back to booming again. At 10:30 I heard a slight boom. Not the kind that’s really thunderous that you can feel. This one didn’t vibrate the house. I’m surprised they��d start up again on the last day of the month. I thought they’d start up on the 1st or the 15th.

Dan only gunned his engine a few times, but even so, I’d like it better if he’d get out of here. The fewer people around, the better. If he’s still here this late in the year, I doubt he’s going to be leaving at all.

My allergies are going off starting last night, but fortunately, they’re not constant sneezing fits. Not yet, anyway. I’m just having a few sneezes here and there. Not the kind where I sneeze 20 times in a row and have to jump up to blow my nose. My nose isn’t runny. My eyes were itchy, though. I had to put some eye drops in.

When I got up I got Houdini out of the closet and put him in the tank with the lid, but as is the usual case for two hours after I’ve tanked him, he’s all wound up. I took him out a couple of times and let him run around on the bed till he tried to jump off the corner closest to the closet.

There was a Gophie by the snake hole and I brought out some food. This time she waited till after I’d stepped out the door before diving into the hole. That’s getting brave.

Maria called again today but she didn’t leave a message. Yesterday, there was a fourth call. A private number with no message. Please, God, don’t let it be that Clara got our number! Even if she did, though, I suppose it wouldn’t harm anything. Larry wouldn’t want to talk to me any more than I’d want to talk to him. I don’t think he’d even bother leaving me a fuck you message after the mail I intend to send. If anything, he’d give the number to his mommy and daddy and have them do his dirty work for him. They’d call to bitch about it. Since they probably couldn’t get the number, though, and therefore can’t call, it’ll be interesting to see if they call any other people with my last name about the letters or if they send me a letter to the old address. I just wish we’d hurry up and get that printer! I don’t want to send Larry and his associate’s mail before Doe and Art’s, cuz then Doe and Art may be too afraid to even open any mail from me.

Later…

My allergies are acting up worse, so I popped a Benadryl. However, I’m sure it’ll fail to dry up my nose and stop my sneezing, as usual. Instead, it’ll dry up my mouth and cause me to take a 1-2-hour nap. Oh well. I felt like I had to do something. So much for the cutting down on the mice space experiment. I swear you could put me in a sterile environment and I’ll still have allergy fits for no apparent reason whatsoever.

Later…

My allergies have been making me miserable all day and I wonder – am I going to have this every 2-3 weeks for the rest of my life? And if not, what will the problem be that replaces it? I’ve racked my brains trying to figure out the cause of it, but there’s no pattern. I just can’t see a cause. That leaves only one thing – God. God’s the cause of this and I hate him for it!

I decided to spread my cleaning schedule out from 3 days a week to 6 days a week, so it won’t seem so overwhelming. Here’s my plan:

Mon. - master bath Tues. - liv/my office Wed. - den/his office/guest Thurs. - second bath Fri. - kitchen/utility Sat. - laundry Sun. – bedroom/retreat

TUESDAY, MAY 30, 2000 It turned out to be the quietest Memorial Day weekend I’ve ever experienced out here. The Saturday morning boom car stereo was the only thing I heard. Even Dan’s place was dark and quiet last night. Makes me wonder if he finally fucked off and headed for Indiana.

I can just imagine what must’ve gone on at our old place. Must have been quite a riot, but then again, maybe not. The noise was aimed at me for the most part, so maybe they happened to simmer down once I left, but I’ll never know. I’ll never know how the Hs feel about living next to them, either. I figure there are not too many possibilities. They either don’t mind having their yard trashed and the noise to listen to (if they are up to their same old tricks), or they don’t like it, or they shut up and kept their garbage to themselves. Maybe it’s a combination of things. Meaning, maybe they are quieter, but still noisy by most people’s standards, and the Hs just don’t care.

Again I woke up at 121 pounds. Maybe that dream will turn out to be a premonition, but at the rate I’m going, if I were to be 115 pounds, that won’t be till November. It’s funny how I gained and started losing weight at the exact same time of year as the last time. The first time I gained weight (after quitting smoking), I started gaining in October and didn’t start losing until May. Same with the second time around and I also gained the same amount each time I gained weight. I peaked at a little over 125 pounds. Since I can’t muster up the willpower to eat 1000 calories a day, I upped my workouts and workout every day now. I even worked out twice yesterday.

I have a dress that I don’t need to wear a bra with when I’m around the mid-120s because it’s a snug fit at that weight. Now that I’ve dropped a bit, it’s not as tight around the chest.

Later…

Not only has my body gotten used to shitting at 121 pounds, but I just had to up and take my second dump of the day. What I wonder is – will I go back up to 125 pounds before my period?

I forgot to mention that last week I finally received a newsletter from the doll company I got some of my cheap dolls from. The dolls I got at K-Mart had a card you fill out for their club, but all their club is newsletters about other people’s collections. Like I really care? I don’t want to meet or talk to other collectors. I thought they’d send catalogs or coupons or something like that.

Houdini’s so funny. He was in his usual spot in the closet when I got up. I put him in the tank and didn’t bother to put the lid on it. I knew he could jump out, but I didn’t think he’d bother. Well, he did. He jumped out and right into the big cage.

Later…

And he jumped back out of it too, so now he’s in the tank with the lid on.

I just went out to feed our many outdoor critters. Tom said that when he was out yesterday, he saw one on each side of the house and says there are at least 6 of them around here (I know I should spell out numbers the professional way, but I’m writing a journal, not a book, so I won’t be so formal and proper).

Later…

This phone has rung the most it’s ever rung in the last couple of days. I just got an out-of-area call where the person never spoke, but I know someone was there because I could hear them before they hung up on me. I forgot to block our number when I called Sandy’s parents. I hope to hell they don’t have Caller ID.

Maria and the stupid Mexican Elena called, too. Maria’s this New York-sounding woman who thinks we sell water. Again she called saying she was low on water, and after the 3rd call from the Mexican, they finally left a message. Not much of one, though. They just made this sigh-like sound before hanging up. I could hear a radio or a TV on in the background, too. Getting 3 calls in one day is a lot, till the sales calls come in a dozen a day like they used to. I still don’t understand what it is with these people, though. Maria made it sound like she’s talked to the guy she was looking for before, so why doesn’t she realize that Tom’s voice is different? And what about these Mexicans? Shouldn’t they not recognize Tom’s voice?

It’s funny how Mary and Dave have been in this house 3 times in the 5 months we’ve been here, yet they were never at the Phoenix house in the 6 years we were there.

Later…

Oh, please! Just when I thought Dan was gone for a few months, it starts an engine-gunning spree.

Anyway, Tom’s looking into a really cool program that lets you make your own fonts. I want one that’ll let me write out the letters which I can then scan into the computer. However, having a dead scanner doesn’t help. Something’s really been cursing my computer this last month or two, and one of the many things to get fucked up is the scanner. Tom said he hasn’t figured out what’s wrong with it yet. Well, I hope he figures it out soon, cuz I have a really funny idea. The idea is to forge Andy’s handwriting, something I can do very well, from samples of stuff he’s written in a few journals of mine, and write a letter to his mother. No, I’m not gonna say anything mean, violent or sexual. I’ll just write the kind of letter Andy would really write, and then laugh over knowing how confused he’ll be when he hears about the letter he never sent. Then he’ll really wonder about his pot brain!

MONDAY, MAY 29, 2000 Thank God I’m not in Phoenix! I’m surprised it hasn’t been a bit musical around here yet this weekend, but I’m sure someone will blare their music today. Either Dan will blast off, or that boom car stereo will drive by.

Anyway, Tom’s doing his favorite thing – watching TV. He did do computer stuff, though, too. Since we didn’t screw Saturday or Sunday, I guess that means we’ll have to go through the bullshit motions today. He’ll wait till he’s been up for 10-12 hours, though. He said he got up at 6:00, so I don’t expect him to make a move on me before 4:00.

I changed the animals earlier and realized it was a waste of time putting food and water outside of the cages when all Houdini has to do is go home to eat and drink. If he can get out, then he can surely get back in, and Tom verified this today. When I got up at 10:00 he was home, but Tom said he wasn’t home earlier. So, he can come and go as he pleases when he’s in that cage, but until tonight, I have him tanked.

Later…

Wow! It looks like he may not touch me at all. If he doesn’t, I’ll have mixed emotions about it. A part of me will feel like he doesn’t want me anymore or find me attractive, although who could at this day and age? A bigger part of me will be glad to get out of something so planned and predictable. If we do screw, I’ll have mixed emotions about that, too. I’ll be bored with the same old, same old, but will feel there’s still a little bit of attraction still lingering. He tells me I’m beautiful, but I think that’s just another one of his lies. What’s beautiful about me? The freckle on my shoulder?

I wrote another letter to Mom.

Maria called telling us that the water’s getting really low, so don’t forget to pick some up! Some idiot in this area, who obviously doesn’t have a well, left this message yesterday. How stupid can they be? I mean, didn’t they realize that Tom’s voice wasn’t familiar, or does Tom sound exactly like someone they know?

Later…

He finally brought up the subject of sex. Right now he’s taking the 2-3 hours he likes to digest (it used to be 1) before we screw, and waiting till the very end of his day. Maybe he wants to finish himself off in bed. That’s another thing – the sleeping together hasn’t happened and I doubt it ever will. I put the ball in his court to see what he’d do and he hasn’t said or done anything differently. I don’t think either of us wants to sleep together that bad and I also think we’re so used to the way things have been that it’s all the harder to change.

God, give me the strength to come up with an excuse every weekend! I’d just feel so guilty, although I know I shouldn’t because he wouldn’t miss the sex any more than I would. I’m just so sick of the same old, same old. It’s so damn planned and predictable and boring me to tears. I can see why so many couples cheat, only it’s for different reasons than ours. I’ve got a predictable, dry dick here that’s boring me to tears, and other women have guys that smother them. Also, they bitch about how the man gets it over within a few seconds and doesn’t take the time to do it slowly. Yeah, that’s what I’ve got with this man here, but again, the reasons are different. Other women’s men are in and out because they’re horny and want a hole to squirt in. This man’s in and out because he’s too scared to cum in a place that he doesn’t know whether or not a kid could result in.

Later…

I was right. He didn’t go inside. I asked him if it was due to my being too cramped out last week and told him that I wrote how I suspected this would happen and thought it was quite a coincidence. He swears he wasn’t copycatting me and said he wondered if my subconscious led to his not being able to go inside (meaning, maybe that caused me not to put my heart into it), although he admits he “jumped the gun” the first time around by not having me do him by hand longer. The first time around when I went to warm him up he got fairly hard, but as soon as he went to go inside, he was his usual dry, limp self. The second time around, although I thought I was doing my best, I just couldn’t get him into it and hard, so I stopped and told him I thought it was hopeless and that I was sorry I couldn’t do a better job. He then went on to say that he wanted more variety, I won’t hurt him as long as I stay away from his balls, don’t give up, and he wants me to be happy. As I bluntly told him, he couldn’t make me happy sexually, because he couldn’t and wouldn’t make the changes necessary to make me happy, but that that was OK because his happiness is more important than mine. I want him to be himself and do what makes him happy. I’ll sacrifice sexual happiness to please him because he’s worth it and I love him. But he wouldn’t be happy doing things that’d make me happy. What would make me happy would be to not know what day of the week we’re going to screw, yet I know it’ll be Saturday or Sunday, but probably Sunday at the end of his day. It’d also be nice if I never knew when he’d cum, but instead I always know he won’t. Even so, and like I told him, I know how important it is for him to be himself and do what makes him happiest and most comfortable. It’s still hard to get used to a man needing so much foreplay, I told him, and that I’ve got to keep in mind how different he is. Then he said he’s just him. He’s both. He’s himself and he’s different. We’re talking about a man, who like a woman, needs a lot of foreplay, has a lower appetite, and rarely cums.

SUNDAY, MAY 28, 2000 Tom left an hour ago to meet Mary and Dave at Fry’s. They should be back around 1:30. I have mixed emotions about this arrangement. I’m grateful for the new TV, but I feel a little insulted by her insisting Dave help carry in the TV when I’m perfectly capable of helping my own husband.

Haven’t heard the boom car stereo since yesterday morning, and I doubt Dan ended up blasting off. If he did, it was for a very short time because his lights weren’t on for long at all. I was surprised.

Time to go out and feed the Gophies.

Later…

OK, I just fed them.

Houdini didn’t stick to his usual routine last night. He doesn’t usually escape till after I go to bed, but at 9:30 I caught him running around in the retreat after I had come out of my office. He was hiding under the walker (I’ll store that in the trailer). I put him back in the big cage and later found him in the closet. I put him back again and he stayed in the cage till 9:00 this morning. He probably came out looking for me wondering why I was late. Animals are pretty sensitive to time. I upped the alarm from 9:00 to 10:00 cuz I couldn’t fall asleep till 2:00, and he was probably wondering why the alarm didn’t go off at 9:00. How I know he didn’t escape till 9:00 was because Tom said that’s when he last saw him. When I got up at 10:00, he was under the walker. I had blocked off the retreat by putting a towel across the bottom of the door, but he simply clawed it away, so I made that room safe for him to hang out in. He was wound up, as usual, for a while after I tanked him, and even tried to bite Tom.

Later…

The new 25” TV is here. Sure beats our old dark 19”. It was on sale for $200 and fits in the entertainment center perfectly. Mary and Dave visited for about 20 minutes, then they took off for the casino to win another thousand dollars of money they don’t need.

Later…

Tom’s still watching the new TV. He did take a break to race his car on the computer, though. Good, this, along with his cut toe and cut face, will delay our boring sex. I don’t know how he got the cut on his toe, but he obviously got the cut on his face from shaving. I know Sunday evenings are his favorite time to screw around, but I still say I’ll get to get out of it altogether cuz of I was cramped out last weekend and not in the mood. I just wish he’d make his excuse before we bother to get into bed and go through all the bullshit motions. And I swear he wants to wear my hand out at times, making me do him by hand forfuckingever! Long after he’s hard he still has me doing him by hand, probably to make up the difference for screwing for only a few minutes, and I’m like – come on, buddy! Let’s get this over with. You’ve been hard now for ages.

It’s amazing how many channels they’ve got! Fifty channels alone for music is total overkill. I’m surprised they don’t have a channel just for commercials. A channel for current commercials, one for old commercials, and then one for each type of commercial. A channel for car commercials, one for having babies, etc.

SATURDAY, MAY 27, 2000 When I got up this morning, the first thing I did before getting my coffee was go into the closet to pull Houdini out and put him back in his tank. Again, he didn’t fight me. It’s amazing how he stands still and lets me pick him right up. I don’t put him in the big cage till around 8:00–9:00 and he doesn’t bother trying to escape till after I go to bed because he wants to play with Ratsy during those hours.

Thank God I’m not in Phoenix now! I’ll especially be thankful I’m not there on Monday.

Tom told me that somewhere in the Midwest or the East, a 13-year-old boy was sent home from school for being disruptive. A while later, he returned to school with a gun, said something to his teacher, then shot him in the face. That’s your all-American kid for you. It seems that once we hit the 90s, kids went downhill. That’s because the parents got worse and worse. I asked Tom if the kid was white and he said they didn’t say. Not that white kids aren’t bad enough themselves, but this sounds kind of blackish to me. I think shooting up teachers is a black thing. And the sad thing about it is that this kid’s not gonna be tried as an adult. It’ll be put in a school similar to Valleyhead, although it’ll probably have its windows barred, and it’ll be free by the time it’s 21.

I didn’t bother weighing in this morning or taking measurements like I have been for the last six Saturdays or so, because I know I’m still right about where I usually am. I know I’m 122-124 pounds, and my thighs are 22-23, my hips and tits are about 37, and my waist is 29-30.

Got another doll poster for my office wall yesterday. An Indian girl doll that’s pretty nice. I like having these doll posters. It not only makes for good decoration, but it’s almost like having these extra dolls that I don’t have and I don’t have to dust them or worry about breaking them.

Later…

We haven’t even been here six months and we already have a boom car stereo driving by regularly, just as I predicted. Thanks, God. Thanks a lot. Sure, it’s not nearly as loud as the boom car stereos that’d drive by in Phoenix, and sure, we don’t have to listen to people screaming, balls bouncing, and dogs barking, but the point of the matter still stands – I don’t want to know others exist when I’m in my own home and I don’t want to hear anyone else’s music but my own. This time I saw the car. It was a red car that came up from the front bedroom side of the house and drove up Meadow Green, the bedroom side of the house. As far as I could tell, it passed the renters. Of course the drivers were cocks and of course they just had to be blacks or Mexicans too, from what I could tell. Tom still swears that by the end of June, the stereo will either be broken, or they’ll get sick of driving on these roads if they want to keep it working. But it’s now become rather obvious that they live here. I’ve heard them too many times now for them to be just visitors. They live here and no one who’s into attention-getting stereos like that is going to just give that up, nor can they necessarily just up and move as soon as the thing breaks. Moving takes money and if they just moved into the area, and obviously they did, they’re not going to want to move again so soon, so they’ll just keep fixing the fucking thing. Although, I don’t believe Tom when he says they’re that sensitive. I think they can stand up to these roads just fine and even if they couldn’t and the stereo broke and they didn’t fix it, some other boom car stereo will drive by regularly enough. God will see to it. It’s in my cards. I’m destined to be forever stuck with these stereos and eventually, they’ll get tougher and tougher and louder and louder, so it’ll be as loud as it was in Phoenix without having to drive right up to the house. The good thing about it is that because they have to drive so slow on these bumpy roads (some of them are graded well enough to go 65 MPH on and some aren’t and you have to creep) is that I’ve got a good two minutes or so warning when they’re approaching. I can hear them for a couple of minutes before they get up to the house. Plenty of time to be waiting for them. What’s to say they can’t have a little meeting with me? Hee, hee! I told Tom I wasn’t kissing ass out here and I meant it. I’ll take care of anyone or anything that becomes a problem around here. I lived how others lived in Phoenix, but this time around, we’re gonna do things my way. So, come July 1st, when they’re still banging by like Tom says they won’t be, I’ll arrange a private little get-together with these cocks.

Tomorrow, Tom’s going to meet Mary and Dave at Fry’s Electronics store and pick us out a new TV all the while they get badgered and harassed by salespeople. I opted to stay home since I can’t stand crowds and pesky, pushy sales reps. Mary and Dave are going to waste their time and gas following Tom home to help him carry in the TV. I appreciate their taking the time to be helpful, and I know Mary’s old-fashioned in the sense that she thinks men should do the carrying, but I’m just as capable as any of the guys. I can help my husband myself just fine.

Later…

Our blasting boys haven’t been by again yet. They probably went into the city to do some drug dealing or to get wasted at a friend’s house, but they’ll return at some point today. At least they won’t be in and out every 45 minutes like the Mexicans were. The only thing that makes no sense is that so far I haven’t heard them more than once in a day. Well, wouldn’t I have to hear them at least twice if they went out once; when they left and when they returned? Maybe I was listening to music and missed one of their attention calls.

When I called Tom in to check them out as they were going by the bedroom, he tried to convince me that he couldn’t hear their music, but he had to have heard it. Why does he do these things; try to tell me something is when it really isn’t, or vice versa? He’d have to be deaf not to hear it, even if it wasn’t nearly as loud as in Phoenix. He also tried to tell me a few times he didn’t see or hear the sickos when I knew that couldn’t be.

Later…

I just looked back, and if this is the same car I’ve been hearing, we heard them on April 15th, then again on May 7th, then nearly every day since the 21st. Sounds like someone started visiting someone then moved in with them, or was having a place prepped and now they’re fully moved in. This proves Tom doesn’t know what he’s talking about if it truly is the same stereo, but we’ll see for sure over the next few weeks. I think it’ll be an everyday thing until I put a stop to it, and believe me, I’m only too happy to do so!

Later…

I can’t believe this dryer doesn’t buzz when it stops. It’s a pretty good dryer too, that you’d think would have that, but it doesn’t.

Tom’s dozed off on the couch right now. Let me guess – tomorrow evening we’ll get together for a boring, predictable round of sex, huh? And let me guess some more – he’ll either not want to go inside, or he will, but he won’t cum, right?

Life may be full of surprises, but our sex certainly isn’t!

Later…

Haven’t heard anything else, but the long weekend is still young, and the day is still early. If people are gonna blast music, they’re likely not to start till nighttime when the weather’s cooler and they can open their windows and doors to let the sound out.

I can’t wait to finally send these pictures off to Tammy, Doe and Art and to be done with them. I just want to rub this new house and things like that in their faces, and I can’t wait to send off Larry and his associate’s mail, too. Wish I could be there to see his reaction! The last time I said I was sending shit to people he knows, I bluffed him. So, just when he thinks I wouldn’t do that, here he’ll be getting two phone calls all about the mail they received. I just hope they read it to him or at least tell him the contents of the letter in enough detail. And I hope to hell he hears that tape, too. I wonder if he’ll try to do something about it like look up those with my last name in Phoenix and send them mail. Well, if he does, he’ll have an awful lot of mail to send out, cuz there’s a zillion people with my name. He does what he does, but nothing he can do can get to me the way I can get to him. What can he do? Take me to court? Have me thrown in jail? The funny farm? There’s just nothing he can do. This isn’t mail between non-related people where a white person refers to blacks and Mexicans using nasty words, after being harassed by them with noise. The police are gonna give him the same brush-off they gave me if he goes to them as when I tried to call his local police department and bitch about him making prank calls to me. They’re less hesitant to get involved when it’s family, and all they’ll do is tell him what they told me – she’s on the other side of the country. The cop I spoke to did say he’d call him and tell him to knock it off, but I don’t believe for a minute that he really did. Of course, there’s always the chance that Larry recognizes my handwriting on the envelope, although I tried to disguise it, and ditches it right then and there. Who knows? He may even be afraid to bother opening things with no return address. Whatever happens - the ball’s now in my court and I hold the threat over him. He’s completely powerless against me. There’s nothing he can do to ruin me or hurt me in any way, but there’s plenty I could do to him.

Later…

Not surprisingly, Dan’s place is all lit up. If he’s blaring music, I wouldn’t know it, cuz I have my own on right now.

Thank God I’m not in Phoenix!

Later…

Just added Jenny’s father to my mailing list. Yeah, I went online and looked up her last name and of course Jenny wasn’t listed, but her father was. He’s in the same house they’ve been in for nearly 20 years in West Springfield. Her father has got to be really old now. I know her folks were older than mine. He must be in his 70s. Anyway, the idea is to piss both Jenny and Larry off with my sending the letter to him. I not only hope Jenny will read the letter, but I’m sure she will unless her dad gets so disgusted that he tears it to shreds. Anyway, I bet on the odds of her reading it and wrote at the end of the letter: shame on you for reading your dad’s mail, Jenny! The worst thing that could happen to me for this is that they send me a letter about it to our old address which will get forwarded, of course, and which I’ll have returned to sender. I’ll recognize their handwriting, and of course, they wouldn’t put a return address on the thing. God, on the other hand, is gonna get me good for this, but it’ll be worth it.

FRIDAY, MAY 26, 2000 The Memorial Day weekend is starting early from what I heard. When I got up at 10:00 and turned off the fan I could hear the faint beat of music and I was like – you gotta be kidding me! Thanks, God. Thanks a real lot. I expected music tonight, Saturday night and Sunday night, but Friday morning? Anyway, it only lasted two minutes and again, I’m virtually certain it was that boom car stereo Tom says can’t live out here. Well, it probably doesn’t or else I’d hear it every day, but it sure visits a lot. The reason I’m sure it was a car is because of the way the volume faded in and out and because it only lasted a couple of minutes. Usually, when someone turns on a house stereo or radio, it’s for more than a couple of minutes. Again, I’m pretty sure it was coming from the front, too. I just thank God we’re not in Phoenix, but of course there wasn’t too much of a ruckus from the Mexicans last Memorial Day weekend. That’s because they weren’t there yet. I remembered after my last entry that they didn’t move in till June 1st. So, in less than a week they’ll have been freeloading it for one year. Well, in the house, that is. I’m sure they’ve been on welfare and ripping the state off for years.

I see Gophie now, so I’m gonna go give her a bite to eat.

Later…

Gave her some lettuce this time around. It was last week’s lettuce for the animals that are just starting to wilt and it’s more than she can eat, but maybe the rabbits will eat it, too. It’s biodegradable, so it’s OK. Whatever doesn’t get eaten will dry up and disintegrate like old leaves. She just popped up out of her hole and is attacking the lettuce now. She’s gotten to be more trusting. She used to stay in her hole for about fifteen minutes after I’d return to the house after dumping her some food, but now she’s back out in five minutes. I put the lettuce by her hole, but not too close to it in case there’s a snake that may jump out at me, although I doubt she’d be near where a snake was. Still, I always take precautions. Anyway, it’s cute how she jumps out of her hole, runs and grabs a piece of lettuce, then runs to eat it by her hole so she can hop down into it if something dangerous comes by.

Speaking of a certain indoor pet that just won’t stay home, Houdini is the perfect name for him. Sometimes you’ve got to have a pet for a while to come up with the best name for them. Well, Houdini certainly suits this guy. I put him in the big cage last night, along with Ratsy, figuring that even though he is growing, he could still escape, but probably wouldn’t do so till after I went to bed. This time, though, I put food and water outside the cage for him, lifted Ciara’s outer skirts, and blocked off the retreat and my office. Sure enough, I found him in his favorite spot in the closet when I got up, then I put him back in the big cage. He didn’t fight me, either. He let me pick him right up. Because rats are normally nocturnal, including this one, I figured he’d sleep and not escape again till tonight, but I was wrong about that. I walked by a little later and found him sitting by his cage, and boy did he want to play! He ran around his cage and climbed around and under me. I put him back in the cage and found him out again when I was on my way to pee. I went and peed, which he had to follow me to do, then decided it was time to tank him. He’s still wound up too, running on the wheel. I don’t know what’s got him all hyped up today.

There’s a quail hanging out by the bush the iguanas used to live under. Now they seem to be living under the bush by the bedroom.

They still haven’t updated Carol’s schedule and I don’t know if they’re going to do it later today or if they’re going to do it later this month. The last time they updated it, they did it on the 26th. Maybe they don’t do it the same day every month.

Later…

My God! Today this rat’s as dayturnal as Gophie and gerbils are. I just put him back in the big cage to see what he would do. He escaped instantly and ran under the bed, which I shooed him out of, and into the closet to his favorite spot behind my guitars. Then I made sure he heard my footsteps walking away, then quickly and quietly I tiptoed back and lay on the bed where I could see under the closet door. I wanted to see if he’d stay there and go to sleep, or if he wanted to explore. As I figured he would, he stuck his head out from under the door and saw me right away. Then I went into the closet cuz he had run back to his hiding spot. I sat down on the floor and he walked up to me. Then I picked him up and re-tanked him. He’s still too hyped up to go to sleep anywhere.

I forgot to mention the dream I had earlier. I dreamt I weighed 115 pounds. Is this a sign of weight loss to come? Well if it is, it hasn’t happened yet cuz I’m still 122 pounds. The thing about it is that I dreamt about gaining weight before I gained it the first time around, after quitting smoking. I think I had dreams about losing it too, before I lost it, although I can’t remember for sure. I’m not going to get my hopes up, but we’ll just see what happens. At this point, especially after working out now for nearly 7 weeks, I think I’ll always bounce between 122-125 and that I’ll never lose the 2 inches from my thighs and the 3 inches from my tits and hips and the 6 inches from my waist that I’d like to lose.

Later…

This has been the most erratic period I’ve ever had, with such a slow start and a slow ending. Never have I had such intermittent cramps, bleeding and spotting. It starts and stops, starts and stops. Since when do I spot for a few days after my period? That’s something I usually do before my period. Maybe this is when God has something go wrong so I need a hysterectomy. Or maybe this really is normal for me. Who knows? I still don’t get why it was so important to God that I ended up with a man if he knew he didn’t want me to have kids. Not that I regret meeting and marrying Tom for an instant, but why was my true love fated to be a man? Why couldn’t I have had what I have with Tom with a woman? I’m sure I’ll wonder about this for the rest of my life.

I think I’ll go see if the new schedule is posted yet, but I doubt I’ll be able to get online. Between noon and 9 PM, getting online is impossible.

Later…

Cool! For the first time ever, I see three Gophies out there! Two big ones and a baby one. No wonder all that lettuce got eaten so fast.

It’s a scorcher out there now at 112 degrees. Gonna try again to get online to get the schedule, but I doubt I can get on now.

His mom offered to pay for us to have the trailer moved out here, making it more possible. How generous! That’d be wonderful of her.

Later…

Yes! Office Killer and When a Stranger Calls Back are on this month (got the schedule a couple of hours ago)!

THURSDAY, MAY 25, 2000 Tomorrow I should be able to get Carol Kane’s TV schedule for June. Please be on, Office Killer and When a Stranger Calls Back!

UPS delivered Tom’s award from work. A giant portfolio.

Larry’s not going to be a happy camper. Again, I acknowledge and admit the fact that this was very childish and immature of me, not to mention a waste of time if he doesn’t listen to it, but I couldn’t resist making that tape I mentioned where I told him just what I felt about him. If he does listen to it, he’ll be shocked at some of the things I had to say. I also looked up D online and found two listings in the area. The one in East Longmeadow is Sandy’s parents, which I verified by calling last night. I called and a woman answered. I asked for Clara and she said, “Yeah,” then I mumbled Larry and Sandy’s names and hung up.

I’m sure she called them to see if they were OK. There was an Agawam listing for a James D and I’m pretty sure that’s Sandy’s brother. They’ll both be getting similar letters all about what a fucking asshole Larry is. I know they’ll tell Larry that they got their letters. That’s a done deal. But will they show it to him or read it to him? I hope so! I also hope he’ll want to listen to the tape to see what I might be saying to other people, but with my shit luck, Larry just won’t be that curious and will never read one word of the letters or hear one word of the tape. That doesn’t change the principle of the point – letting him know I’m still out here, still hate his guts, and that I’ll always be a problem for him. Hell, he’s lucky, cuz I’d be more than just an annoyance for him if we lived close to each other. I’d be his worst nightmare! Me sending the letters to these people, even if he’s not exactly close to these people, should piss him the fuck off. As much as I’m anxious to get these letters and the tape off in the mail, I’ll probably wait till I send Dureen, Art and Tammy their pictures. If I send the tape and letters now, it may cause Dureen and Art not to even open my mail if they get that pissed over it, cuz you know Larry’s gonna call them and bitch about it that very day. They may not have the guts at that point to open any mail from me for fear of what may be enclosed. That’s OK. I don’t mind waiting. Good things are worth waiting for.

Later…

Fucking Cybertrails! They’re as bad as AOL was for a while. Most of the time I can’t get online. I’ll try around midnight tonight. Hopefully, I’ll not only be able to get on then, but I’ll be able to get the schedule, too.

It’s 86 degrees outside and 82 degrees inside. It doesn’t feel like it’s that much in here, though. It feels like it’s 75 degrees in here.

I had a craving for fruit so I had Tom get me watermelon, strawberries, blueberries, and kiwi when he stopped at the store. The kiwis are a bitch to peel. No wonder I don’t get them that often.

Thank God we won’t be in Phoenix for this 3-day Memorial Day weekend that’s coming up. Thank God! How I dreaded this particular holiday in Phoenix! Although the Mexicans were quiet for the last Memorial Day weekend they were next to us, and I don’t remember too much of a ruckus from the blacks. Even so, I don’t expect this place to be without music. The only difference is that I’ll hear the beat of the music faintly. It won’t sound like someone’s trying to hammer our walls down. And I won’t be able to hear any people or dogs. Just the beat of Dan’s music. Or someone else’s. Probably Dan’s, though.

Well, I don’t feel like reading, I don’t feel like working on another story, I don’t have anything more to say here, I don’t have any letters to do, there’s nothing on TV at the moment I care to see, so I’ll go row. I may even work out too, although today’s not a workout day. I’m just so glad I’ve finally found something I can stick to. It may not bring me the results I’d like, but it’s still something I can stick to. I got so sick of the floor work after a few weeks or so and just totally lost interest and motivation.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 24, 2000 Oh, that fucking spit doctor! He just doesn’t give up. Like he needs any more money than he’s got? The cock that cleaned my ear out is still trying to bill us for it yet it was supposed to be covered by our insurance. Tom called them once or twice and told them it was an insured appointment, they said they “screwed up their billing,” but they keep billing us. Well, we’re not paying for something we don’t owe money on, that’s for sure. And I don’t believe they “screwed up their billing.” I think they deliberately bill people for stuff they’re insured for to try to make an extra buck, hoping some sucker will get fed up with the bills and collection agency letters and just pay the damn thing, but their scam won’t work on us.

What was weird was that I not only got a letter about it from a collection agency, but I got a certified letter. I never got the letter, though, cuz they sent it back. They try a couple of times to get the letter to you, but when that doesn’t work they give up and send the letter back. I didn’t get it because Tom didn’t go to pick up the mail on the days they tried to get it to me, but that’s OK, I’m not interested. I found it strange that they’d send a certified letter and not just a regular letter. Since when do collection agencies send certified letters? Tom said he’s sure that’s who the letter is from and he pointed out how there was no return on the envelope of the regular letter or the slip for the certified letter. I hope he’s right, cuz those freeloaders have me so paranoid (even though I haven’t done a damn thing to these shitfucks). Especially when they’ve got cops on their side like Mr. Biased who wouldn’t believe a damn thing I told him, anyway. He never wanted to see the truth as to which one of us was really the victim. Tom said not to worry and that if it was anything official, I wouldn’t be getting a certified letter over it.

Evelyn left a message for me to call her, saying Ma wanted to talk to me, and I was like – what could she possibly want to talk to me about? Anyway, I called her (I must’ve had the music blaring when she called) and Evelyn answered. I apologized for getting hysterical on her yesterday and she was like – no problem, and even gave me her home phone number. It’s funny to think that of all the people Evelyn hates, which is almost everyone, she likes me. I can see her liking Tom like she does, but me? When Tom told me what she was like, I expected to be the last person she’d like. Anyway, she handed Ma the phone and she thanked me for the letter and I was like – oh yeah! I forgot about that. Evelyn told Tom that she thought it would be nice if Ma got letters so I typed her one. She thanked me for the letter and told me that she was going to be checking out that adult daycare center. I hope she likes it, but I worry about her. I just get very nervous when I think of hospitals, daycare, nursing homes, schools, etc. There’s always some hotshot on power-play.

I’ve devised a self-help plan regarding my rage over Larry. I’m hoping this will be very therapeutic for me. For some reason, I just can’t seem to get over how furious I am at that sick cock. I just want to kill him! I want to break his and Bill’s neck so fucking bad. They need to be taken down a peg or two by a female and I’m just the bitch to do it. They are so lucky I don’t live there! Anyway, I’m speaking my feelings into a tape just as if I were talking to his face and I plan on mailing this tape to him at some point. I just wish I could know he’d listen to it, but I doubt he’ll have the guts to hear me out. I’m sure that as soon as he hears my voice he’ll ditch the tape. I’m still gonna send it anyway and make sure I don’t put enough postage on the envelope so he has to pay to get the tape, hee, hee! I won’t waste my time praying to God for him to listen to the tape, because just like 99% of my prayers, he’ll only ignore me. He obviously ignored me when I begged for the freeloaders to read my mail. There’s no way those freeloaders would read my mail first, then call the cops. It’d take people like this, who are slower and dumber than your average person, weeks to read through all that shit. They can barely write, so imagine how long it’d take them to read about 200 pages! Anyway, even if the cock doesn’t listen to me tell him what a lying little wimp he is, it’ll still feel good to make the tape and make him pay for it, too.

Later…

We put up this really neat thing that his mom gave us. She used it in her old house, I guess. It’s a digital thermostat that tells you both the inside and outside temperatures. We used the Mexicans’ half-assed ways to our advantage. They didn’t seal up the back door very well, so we were able to run the wire out through the door without crushing it. That wire needs to be outside to sense the outside temp.

I forgot to say that I’m back to 122 pounds, but it’s not encouraging, believe me. I know I’ll be back to 125 pounds soon enough.

TUESDAY, MAY 23, 2000 I’m a bit rundown now. Something just hasn’t wanted me to sleep without interruptions these last couple of nights. The night before last, cramps woke me up. Last night I was up for an hour with cramps too, and then I woke up for a second at 8:00. I would’ve gone right back to sleep if I hadn’t noticed that the power was out. I wasn’t planning to get up till 9:30. The first thing I thought was – oh no! Tom forgot to pay them or couldn’t pay them and now the power will be off all day and I won’t be able to reach him for hours and it’ll get to be a sauna in here! And what if we lose the phone, too? Well, I never did reach him, but fortunately, it wasn’t turned off for lack of payment. It was off all over Maricopa. Since I couldn’t reach Tom or fucking APS, I called Mary’s. I expected to get Mom because Tom told me Evelyn was going to stop staying with Mom during the daytime and that Mom would be going into an adult daycare center, but Evelyn answered. I told her that I couldn’t reach Tom or APS and that I feared they shut us off, but she was the one who got through to APS somehow and found out that they were having problems in the area and that it wasn’t just us. So I was without power for nearly an hour. Then again, a couple of hours later, it went out for about ten minutes. Due to the loss of power, it shot the well, so now I have no water, but I can certainly live without that compared to the AC. Of course I’ve had to piss and shit like hell since I can’t flush the toilets. Hopefully, they won’t back up once the water’s on again. I wish there was an easier way to reach Tom!!! He might be able to tell me how to reset the fucking pump. Anyway, I don’t want to get into too much computer work in case the power fails again.

For now, I’ll just say that I put Fudgie back in the big cage yesterday and let him escape since he doesn’t seem to be harming anything. I really think he goes under the couch. He escaped sometime after I went to bed at 12:30 just like the night before, and Tom and I noticed he was gone at 3:30. He should be getting hungry for lunch soon, or rather a midnight snack, for being the nocturnal creature that he is. Anyway, when I found him gone I put Ratsy in the tank since I don’t want him loose too, cuz he chews more than Fudgie. After putting Ratsy in the tank, I opened the door to the big cage so he can get in when he wants to go home.

Later…

Tom showed me how to record a macro so I could insert the time with just two keystrokes that I hit at once. Ctrl+8 is for the time and ctrl+9 is for the date and time. In the other program, I recorded a macro for the ½ sign, but this program automatically inserts the ½ sign when you type 1-slash-2. It also makes the ‘st’ of 1st smaller and the ‘rd’ of 3rd smaller. Yes, I like this version much better. I just need a new mouse. I miss having the motion wheel.

I took a nap for an hour or two. Hopefully, I’ll still be able to go to bed around midnight and sleep straight through till around 9:00 without interruptions.

Earlier, I heard a boom car stereo go by for the second night in a row, but I never did see the car. Tom still insists they can’t live out here because they can’t take the vibrations of the bumpy dirt roads, but obviously they can, although it may be someone who just visits someone else frequently. Nonetheless, I heard it and I’m sure it was from a car and not from a house. God, what am I going to do when they get more and more frequent?! They may not be able to get as close to me as they used to, but when they progress a little more and get even louder, that’ll make up for the difference. When it comes to these things I wish I was born earlier than the mid-60s. The turn of the century would’ve been nice. Then I could be dead or close to it when the damn things came out. People get worse and worse and pushier and pushier when it comes to doing their thing. They get more and more selfish and more and more desperate for attention. I saw a case on Cops the other night where a baby’s parents took it to a bar. Then the parents had an argument and they ended up outside in an alley. At one point, the mother handed the baby to a homeless bum so she could fight with her husband. My point? My point is that these are the kinds of people that are becoming parents more and more often. Eventually, all parents will be like them. Well, this baby – these are the kinds of kids that grow up to be the selfish losers like what we had to live next to for years. This neglected baby is going to grow up wanting to be heard, to be noticed, to seek the acknowledgment of its existence. It’ll do anything for attention. Just like a religious fanatic wants to spread God’s so-called holy word to as many people as possible, these fucks want to spread their music to as many people as possible. The best way to reach more people with noise is with music. I mean, what else are they gonna do? Stand out on a street corner and yell? That’d get some attention, but not as much as a moving car would with music blasting from it that’s way louder than a person’s voice. Anyway, it’s quiet here 99% of the time. The best thing about the power failure, which makes a house dead quiet, is not having to listen to barking dogs, let alone noisy blacks and Mexicans. You rarely hear dogs in here, thank God. They haven’t even been booming in the sky. It’d be nice if they only did that January 1st – March 15th every year, but fat chance. I’m sure they alternate flying schedules. Maybe they’ll start again on June 1st, which may be a good thing. It may help me stay on schedule till my next appointment.

I finally got a hold of Tom at work around noon and he came home to reset the well, which shuts itself off after a power failure. I tried to do it myself, but the buttons are fucked up thanks to when it shorted out before. Thanks, Dan, you mother-fucking cock! Will there ever be a day when I don’t want to kill Steven and Dan? I doubt it!

He reminded me that I could’ve called his old work number, cuz there’s always someone there that could go get him in an emergency. I did call that number, but it was busy. Maybe I dialed wrong.

Another thing Tom pointed out is that due to this house being so well insulated, it wouldn’t kill me if I had no AC all day. It’d get uncomfortable, but not to the point where I’d roast to death.

Anyway, I learned a lesson from this, which he pointed out – don’t attempt to take a shower after a power failure cuz that’ll just drain all the water from the pressure tank. If I don’t, then I can flush the toilet 20-30 times. Having two toilets helped so I could divvy up my peeing between the two, trying to use as little toilet paper as possible, although if I’d had to do them all in one, it wouldn’t have backed up.

Fudgie, whose nickname is Houdini, after the famous escapist magician, lost his freedom today. I discovered one of his hiding places, which neither of us was too surprised about since it’s close to where I sleep. I still think he may have gone under the couch, but he was definitely hanging out in the corner of the master closet behind the guitars. He chewed the toe up on one of my old ballet slippers, which I thought was no big deal. I simply moved the good shoes up to the shelves. But then the little devil had the nerve to chew holes in the airbed, so that was it. He’s in the tank till he can’t squeeze through the bars. I also think it’s best that he remains in captivity so he doesn’t get too used to being free and less and less wanting to be handled by me and to play with me. I want him to want to hang out with me too, and not just to want to explore.

MONDAY, MAY 22, 2000 Two nights ago I put Ratsy and Fudgie in the big barred cage, but when I got up this morning just before 9:00, I noticed that Fudgie escaped. I should’ve known he was still too skinny! I haven’t seen that little devil, whom I’m guessing is asleep under the couch, but come tonight when he gets hungry and thirsty, I expect I’ll see him. At least he’s not a chewer and hasn’t damaged any wires.

I’m not even stuck and I’m back to 125 pounds. I feel like a giant balloon! I don’t know if it’s water or what, but this period has been super screwy. I woke up with cramps today but never bled a drop. My tits are still a little sore too, so when am I gonna flow out and be done with this shit for the month? I hate having these periods be such long, drawn-out ordeals. Can’t I just get my period? Just simply get it? Better yet, how about a hysterectomy? Why not, God? You and I both know I don’t need my uterus.

Later…

Well, I’m not stuck anymore. Still 125, though. Why is it so natural for me to be 20-25 pounds overweight? Why??? Stupid question, I know. Just about everyone who’s over 30 is overweight. Although I knew it wouldn’t, it still would’ve been nice if I could’ve lost weight and inches with the Bowflex, but if I bounce back and forth between 122-125 it’ll be better than going over 125. Same with the 1-2 inches I bounce between. Better my thighs go bouncing between 22-23 than to wake up one day with 25” or even 30” thighs!

The only way I could lose weight would be to starve it off, but what’s the point? If I were 110 tomorrow, I’d be back to where I am now in a few weeks, so why bother?

I know it’s daytime, but it kind of bothers me that I haven’t seen Fudgie. I’d like to believe he’s under the couch, sleeping happily and comfortably till he gets hungry enough to show himself, but why do I have the feeling I’ll never see him again, and that if I do, he won’t be alive? God, please don’t take this rat! At least not so soon!

Later…

Fudgie’s home! I just got up to head into the kitchen for coffee when I saw him at his bowl eating. I had moved Ratsy into the tank and left the door open to the big cage so he could get food and drinks. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, in light of losing Scuttles so soon, but man is this rat scrawny! I hope it’s nothing bad and that he fattens up soon.

I see Gophie out front playing right now. Now that my inside pets are situated, I think I’ll go out and give her a bite to eat.

Later…

It’s hot out there. I don’t know how hot since as usual, I’m having trouble getting online.

I took down the flag wall I made. Tom climbed the ladder and tacked the top row of flags up, and I only had to climb about three rungs of that shaky ladder, fortunately, and could just yank the flags off the wall. It was just too much. Too tacky looking. The beach scene mural will look a lot nicer.

I guess I’m officially moved over here and done with the 1992 version of this program that had been such a good friend of mine for so long. Another thing I like about this program is that I can use more than eight characters for file names.

Later…

Tom called about a half-hour ago, saying he was leaving work. Last night he told me it’d be a late day for him, but because his boss doesn’t want him working overtime, he gets to leave work early later on in the week.

Oh, how cute. Gophie’s out front running back and forth. I wonder – is this the same animal I’ve been seeing and feeding? Or are there other Gophies? I get the feeling this is the same one because I’ve never seen more than one Gophie at once.

I changed the mice’s cages earlier. I’m trying to change all the animals on Mondays and Thursdays instead of just Mondays. Although I always have the group of six mice in a large tank, I always do a different tube design. This time around I have a tower of straight tubes sticking off of T-tubes at different angles, stemming up from the bass of the tank.

I guess Fudgie could live like a cat if he’s not going to chew and damage anything. Or decide to go pissing and shitting wherever he felt like it. If I left the cage door open, he could come and go as he pleases, using his cage as a litter box and for food and drink. Ratsy, on the other hand, is a chewer, so unless I want to separate them, which I don’t, I better keep the door shut. Maybe I’ll separate them sometimes and let Fudgie run around loose for a while. Maybe tonight, before bed, I’ll stick him in the big cage, and then let him escape for a while.

SUNDAY, MAY 21, 2000 I’m experimenting with and trying to get to like this newer, more modern word processor I’m using. I like how it automatically caps the first letter after a period and the I’s in words like I’m, I’ll, etc. This word processor is three years old and the one I’ve been using all along is eight years old. It has all the functions the other one had, plus some new features that are hard to figure out, but I’m working on it. This is the word processor we’re going to use to send my story to publishers.

Paula definitely had to have lost her phone for her not to have called this long. I’m rather disappointed that she never sent me the letter and picture she said she was going to send. Why does she have to be such a bullshitter? Maybe something happened to her, though. Maybe she punched someone else out and is in jail, or maybe she got killed. In my next letter to her, I’ll say something about stopping my letters in case something happened where she wasn’t getting my mail, and see if that prompts her into writing.

Dan’s got his place lit up and has his music on. This time it’s softer than last Sunday night and I can just ever so barely make it out. This is one lonely, dude. I said to myself – I’ll bet come Sunday evening, after spending the whole weekend alone with no one to talk to, he’s gonna get desperate for attention and play his music when it cools down. Well, I was right. I guess I know a lonely person when I see one. I’m amazed he isn’t engine-gunning. Other than that, it’s been a quiet, peaceful weekend. I finally get to live the way I want to live and the way that should be my right to live if I want to – in peace. I’ll enjoy every second I get of it! It’s so wonderful not knowing next door’s habits and who they have for visitors and when they have them. It ain’t my business and I don’t want to know!

On the wall in my office where I intend to put that beach mural, one of these years, I hung two rows of flags. Two rows of three. I’ve got irises, Tweety, an underwater fish, Bugs Bunny, Snoopy, and musical notes. Personally, I think it looks sort of tacky. Especially with Indian dolls in front of it. I may take it down. We’ll see.

I’m having one of those screwy periods that are slow in starting. I had spots, then a light flow, and now I’m waiting on my full flow. I thought that was coming on early cuz I got all crampy and asked Tom for a raincheck on sex if he had any plans for that today. No problem, he said. He took it so well as usual. I guess this means we’ll have to wait till next weekend since he doesn’t really like sex during the week, even if he won’t admit this. If I’m right, and I’m only going by his actions, cuz actions do speak louder than words – what’s the big deal? Why can’t he just admit he likes sex on the weekend? And at the end of his day? He seems to copycat me, though. Meaning that when I bail out of sex for whatever reason, he does the same thing. So, next weekend, he may bail out. Better yet, my guess is that we’ll get in bed together, but we won’t screw. Something will happen where he’ll conveniently forget how to go inside me, or I’ll be too dry, or he’ll be sore, tired, or curious about what’s going on outside. One or the other will happen for sure, but he’ll bail out. I’d bet my dolls on it.

SATURDAY, MAY 20, 2000 My hair is the healthiest it’s been in over a decade. I certainly don’t have any split ends anymore. Maybe a few, but they’d be hard to find, just like it used to be hard to find any that weren’t.

I couldn’t have been righter when I told Tom in Phoenix that old curses never die, and that we’d be playing leak in no time at all after moving. This is leak number three already! Those mother-fuckers at Palm Harbor! Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhh! They’ve got two marks against them. They’re males (mostly) and they’re Mexicans. I love this house, but I totally regret not taking Tom’s suggestion and getting out of Phoenix sooner than we did. I didn’t know, though, that we’d have to go through the four months of bullshit we went through, although I should’ve known, and I didn’t know the house would be made in Mexico! We should’ve cut our freeloader time down, skipped out on the freeloaders altogether, and left Phoenix sooner. We could’ve gotten land and a cheap trailer like what we’re getting from Evelyn and lived in that while we built a house for us and built it right. These fucking Mexicans half-assed so many fucking things with this house, it’s fucking pitiful! The leak we had under the house the first night we were in here, though, was Brian’s fault (always a fucking male), but the half-assed tightening of the pipes under the kitchen and second bath sinks were completely Mexicans-made. Tom just discovered the second bath’s sink leaks and believes this may be the cause of the foul odor we’ve smelled in there. Now why can’t these lazy bastards do something as simple as tightening a valve all the way, huh? Is this really that difficult to do? Pathetic people do pathetic things. Anyway, even Mary was astounded. She was like - you mean you’re fixing leaks on a brand-new house?! Yup. And I’m sure we’ll be fixing something else they’ve fucked up real soon. Anyway, I’d like to know what’s causing the foul odor in the master bath. So far, I amazingly can’t find any leaks in there yet, although this odor is different. The second bath smelled kind of like the smell of hair dye that hits you went you walk into a salon. The one in the master bath smells like seaweed. I’ll keep an eye on it, but it looks like they may have left us one area that actually doesn’t leak. What’s next, though? The toilets? The dishwasher? What?

Household problems aren’t the only unfortunate vibes I have. Right now, I have the feeling we’re not getting a printer in June like we had hoped and talked about. Something does not want me sending pictures to Doe, Art and Tammy. Tom said he’s not ready to give up on it and I told him that I was, so when he sees that I’m right, don’t beat yourself up for it, I said. It’s not your fault. You know whose fault it is.

Steven and Dan, you lucky, lucky mother-fuckers! They’re just as lucky as Bill and Larry and so many others for escaping my fists. How I’d love to scar up Steven’s face so that every time he looked in the mirror, he remembered me!!!

Well, I’ve been working out for six weeks now and where do I stand? Really close to where I started. My starting measurements were 37-29-38 with 22½ thighs. Now they’re 36½-29-37 with 22 thighs. Big deal, huh? Although I suppose it’s better than nothing. I still think I’ll always fluctuate between weighing 122-125 pounds and an inch or so in measurements, but he says that in time, if I stick to working out, I’ll fluctuate between smaller numbers. That’s OK. I can accept maintaining what I’ve got. I mean, at least I can maintain and never have to worry about getting bigger. Carrying 20 extra pounds for the rest of my life won’t kill me. There are worse things than that. Also, I’m glad I finally found something I can enjoy sticking to. I can’t imagine life without the Bowflex! I’m 122 pounds today, but today I can’t shit, so I’m sure I’ll be gaining. Last week I was stuck for four days and ended up going from 122-125. I hope I’m not stuck that long, but if I am, I am. There’s nothing I can do about it.

Tonight’s the night Tom and I agreed we’d sleep together, but I have a feeling that if I don’t mention it, he won’t either, so we’ll see. I’m not going to mention it because I want to see how much it matters to him. I don’t want to push him into doing something he doesn’t want to do. As for me, you know I hate sharing a bed so I can live without us sleeping together. I wake up at the slightest movement, and his snoring is horrendous. What’s important is that we love each other and stay together forever.

We were going to go to where he works together today, but he didn’t need to work, so we visited Mary, Dave and Mom today, stopping at Circle K first.

Her evaporative cooler felt nice. I miss those things. We were there for a little over two hours and made sure not to arrive till Pepper was gone. They brought him to be groomed. It was nice not having him out back barking his ass off. All I had to listen to at times was their obnoxious birds. The hamster and fish are quiet, though.

Before we left I copied a few pictures for them onto a floppy. Pictures of the snake, the iguana, the scorpion, and the outfits we made for Bailey.

We all watched the Preakness horse race on TV (boring) and Mary and Dave went out to get pizza at one point, too. Dave and I teased Tom and Mary for liking pepperoni pizza and they ranked on us for liking mushroom pizza. I had two pieces which fortunately didn’t fuck up my stomach.

While Mary and Dave were getting the pizza, Mom said, “Have you seen the really cute commercial? The one where a woman’s having a baby and out pops a Japanese baby?”

I’m like - oh, please! I’m so sick of commercials, movies and shows with that shit. I’ve seen childbirth on TV more than murder!

Speaking of TV, I guess part of the reason we’re not getting the printer in June is my fault. I mentioned how our TV is a little small and definitely too dark since it’s very old. Well, they took this to mean more than just a casual comment. I guess I came off as not being able to live without a good TV. I said something about the TV a few times and they ended up calling us once we got home offering to buy us a new TV for our anniversary unless we could think of something we wanted more. Well, I want a new printer more than a new TV, but a new TV would certainly be nice. Very nice, and I know Tom would love it because he said he wants a TV more than a printer and because of how much he loves TV. He spends 90% of the time he’s home watching TV, I sometimes feel I have to compete with it and that he doesn’t want to spend time with me. There’s not much we could do together, though. He doesn’t like sex all that much and we can’t go swimming together, that’s for sure. Anyway, I have mixed emotions about them getting us a TV, which is so generous of them to offer. I want Tom to have what he wants, but like he said, I threw a monkey wrench in his plan. He was hoping for more money than usual for our anniversary cuz Ma’s upping the amount of money she’s giving people to avoid us being taxed when she dies, and now we may not get that if we get the TV. If I was smart, I’d drop the idea of sending pictures to people, like I said before. If I’m right about something not wanting me to do it, and it gets more and more obvious that that’s the case, I don’t want to get in trouble over people I can’t stand anyway. I only wanted to rub it in their faces (the new house, etc.), but not that bad. They’re not that worth it, trust me.

Mary’s yard looked great. She’s got those wildflowers at the side of her house, a pretty primrose bush in front, a rose bush, a tall palm tree, etc. We can’t plant things here from seed because of how the wildlife eats them, but hopefully we won’t have any problems planting things we’ll get from a nursery someday.

Mary told us a cute story about a woman she saw playing with a rat in her car at an intersection. She said it was running around her neck and that the woman was picking it up by the tail and tickling its stomach.

I can’t believe how good Mary’s thighs look for being as overweight as she is. I mean, she’s much bigger than me, and she is overweight, but not like Nora and Evie and so many other women are. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she jogged. Her thighs seem skinnier than mine and firmer. Also, she has no craters on the backs of her thighs like I do. How does she pull it off and eat McDonald’s every day and not exercise?

Later…

Looks like I guessed right. Sleeping together once a week isn’t that important to Tom, or else he’d have remembered our plans. Still, I’m not going to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, and besides, I doubt I would’ve enjoyed it. I like sleeping with people in my imagination.

I totally dread my next dentist appointment. My teeth are a mess and I’m going to have a dozen cavities! My teeth have even been sensitive to hot and cold lately.

Later…

I decided that once Tom mentioned going to bed and heading towards the guest room, I’d ask if he forgot about our plan, or if it just wasn’t worth remembering. He said he forgets to do things he wants to do all the time. Whatever. I asked him what he wanted to do and he said he’d sleep in his room tonight, but that he wanted what we discussed to have time to “sink in.” He said that people usually go to bed around the same time, but not to go to sleep with the hopes of trying not to wake the other person up. He said it’s a shared thing where sometimes you wake each other up, both intentionally and not. Sometimes you just wake each other up by accident, sometimes you deliberately do so to screw, etc. So what do we do from here? I asked him, and he said there were no plans and no steps to take, cuz this is something that just is. Not for us, it isn’t. I think we’d have some work to do in order to make it something that just is if that’s possible, but as I told him, I’ll do what he wants, and whatever’s fated to be will be. I have a feeling, though, that if we try to adapt to new ways, something up in the sky will get awfully mad at us, cuz wouldn’t we have been sleeping together all along if we were meant to in the first place? I told him that the spontaneity of it sounded nice, but if he liked spontaneity, then why does he announce when we’re gonna have sex? He always says something like - let’s get together in ten minutes, or something like that. He said he would prefer to be spontaneous about it and that the reason he announces it is that I’m always saying I’m gonna listen to music, have popcorn, or do something, so he feels that’s the only way to wedge it in. I kind of took that as a lame excuse, though. Yes, I’d like to be left alone when I’m listening to music and yes, I’d like to eat my popcorn in peace, but what about the other things I do? They’re interruptible. I take breaks from the things I do all the time, anyway. If I’m reading in the bedroom, he’s welcome to come in and join me because that book will still be there when we’re done, and I don’t mean just for sex. I mean for anything, be it to chat or whatever. In the end, whatever will be, will be. I still truly believe that. We’ll go where we’re destined to go.

FRIDAY, MAY 19, 2000 Just went out and threw some food out for Gophie. Haven’t seen that snake since I first saw it. I guess it moved on.

Freddie’s gotten to be the fattest mouse I ever had and he’s so lazy, too. I wonder if he doesn’t have tumors.

Anyway, maybe there are still some hard feelings toward Tom. God, all the problems with sex. Sex, sex, sex! Always sex-related! I’m so fucking sick of it! Eliminate all the fights over sex and having a kid and we’d hardly ever fight. At least we don’t fight nearly as much as we used to since I became OK with not having a kid. He’s not only lied about why he doesn’t cum and about wanting a kid, but he also lied about cumming back when I tricked him by playing dumb and commenting on how he came regularly. He was caught red-handed, yet he still had the gall to lie to my face. So, he’s already proven that he’s capable of lying when it’s in his best interest. Aside from his lying about sex and a kid, I appreciate him for a million reasons, but does he fully appreciate me? I’ve done a lot more than just save him time by doing his laundry and cleaning the house. Do you know how many women would’ve left him because of the sex, and mostly because they couldn’t have a child with him? He, right along with God, has taken so much from me, regardless of if I’m OK with it. Not that I desire to leave him or cheat on him, but I’m doomed to a life of shitty sex, when he wants it, how whatever’s up there wants it, with no regard for what I may want, and God help me if I ever want a kid again. Yes, God would see to it that I miscarried as many times as they did an implant in me if I had invitro, but do I really think Tom would ever let me get that far? Right! I’m sure he’d either refuse to cum or tamper with it if he did. If I never mentioned a kid again, neither would he for as long as he lived.

I’m also a little tired of his getting so defensive over simple little comments I may make. Last night I offered to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. It wasn’t the weekend. All I said was, “Yeah, I know you’re a weekend kind of guy,” and he was like, “Yeah, well, let me be me.”

Now what did that comment have to do with him being him? All I did was make an observation. Not demand he be somebody else. As far as dominating and controlling the sex, he sure is your average, normal male! Thank God he doesn’t want it just about every day like most males do! That’d really drive me crazy.

Anyway, the reaction to my comment and to a test I ran him through is what upset me most. I said I was thinking of experimenting with calling the gay lines just to see what his reaction would be. Sure enough, he was against it. So, he can do what he wants sexually, but I can’t. It’s amazing he even goes down on me at times. Nonetheless, I would never step out on him and I know it’s a good thing that he objected, and I figured as much, but I just had to see it anyway.

My sex life isn’t over just because of him and his boring bullshit. It’s cuz of me. I just have no interest anymore. The only thing that interests me is to close my eyes and imagine a woman down there while I use the vibrator and this isn’t nearly as often as it used to be, either. It’s just that when you’re dealing with fantasy, and I’ve always felt this way, there are no problems. The vibrator could break, but it doesn’t lie to me and play games. It doesn’t make me feel controlled, manipulated or cheated out of things that should rightfully be mine. So, I guess I was wrong to say I was over my hard feelings towards Tom. Perhaps I never will be and perhaps this is the one thing I can never ever forgive him for. I’m going to try my damnedest, though, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how I feel, even though I’ve told him. I just don’t want to let it show if I can help it. I’ll just go along with him and let him dictate when and how we have sex. I still could do without a kid, and at the same time I have hard feelings, I want him to be happy and do what he wants more than I want him to change to suit me.

I feel this is more than just a case of his not cumming because he doesn’t want the expense and responsibility of a child and because he doesn’t think I could handle a child (even though he denies all this). I think it’s also about arrogance and stubbornness. It’s like a competition to him that he’s determined to stick to and win. It’s almost like he’s been saying to me all these years, “You got your way with this, this and that, and you’re not getting your way with this one.”

Fine Tom. Just remember - the next time you say you’re bothered by how you are - do something about it or don’t mention it at all.

It’s important that I note that for every time he’s lied about sex and a kid, he’s done and said thousands of wonderful things. I love this man dearly, despite his flaws, and I couldn’t imagine life without him. Even if I returned to wanting a kid really bad and knew I could conceive by a man who’d cum regularly and was attracted to men in general, I’d still give that up in the name of love. I love Tom enough to give up anything I may want that I can’t have with him for whatever the reason may be. I only wish that he’d be honest about things. He should’ve told me up front that he was against cumming and a kid. I still would’ve loved him and stayed with him.

Now, after nearly 7 years of this sexual shit, I’m SICK TO DEATH OF IT!!! So, hopefully, you won’t be hearing much about it from me from here on out. I’m fated for the sex to be how it has been for the rest of my life. Period. Why cry over spilled milk?

Later…

This is just too damn weird! I usually get up around 10:00 these days, but I’ve been up since 7:30 today. That’s because I had a dream someone was knocking on the door and got up and checked to be sure and couldn’t fall back asleep. I didn’t see anyone, and I was sure it was just a dream seeing that I’ve had dreams like this before and how early it was, but now I don’t know. Surprisingly enough, it turns out that Tom had that same exact dream at 2:30 in the morning, 6 hours after going to bed, just like me. I can’t find any other common denominators, though. He said he was sure his was a dream because it didn’t sound real and because of the hour, but this sure is a bizarre coincidence, not to mention the footsteps I could’ve sworn I heard inside the house. Although the animals could’ve easily made this sound, shortly after he went to bed, I went and vegged out in bed with coffee. Well, he sometimes shuffles his feet when he walks. Especially if he’s tired. I could’ve sworn I heard him come shuffling out into the kitchen and fumble around with something in there, be it a glass or whatever, but he says it wasn’t him. If our dreams weren’t dreams, then who the hell would be knocking at the door at such odd hours and why? Burglars don’t make any sense because 2:30 in the morning just isn’t the time to go breaking into houses unless you want to risk getting killed. At 7:30, someone could’ve seen that the car was gone, but if they knocked with plans of breaking in if no one answered, why didn’t they? I peeked out the window cuz I can see the stairs from there. I didn’t see anyone, any fresh tracks, or any cars, so who knows if our dreams were just dreams or not? It’s a hell of a coincidence, though.

The first thing I think when I think of knocks on the door is - oh, no. Somebody did something to the blacks or Mexicans and they don’t know who did, so they’re conveniently naming me just to get at me and just to punish somebody for whatever shit happened to them.

These people are sick enough to do something like that, and besides, this world is so black and white, lacking fairness and gray, balanced areas. Meaning that where whites once had more rights than minorities; now it’s the other way around. You think Mr. Biased would jump to defend a white person being harassed by a black or a Mexican? Somehow, I don’t think so.

THURSDAY, MAY 18, 2000 Yesterday was a major breakthrough as far as any resentment I’ve ever had towards Tom for not cumming. Even though I have long since stopped wanting a kid and although I’ve always known I was sterile, even if doctors could never tell me why, I had conflicting emotions, nonetheless, that I feared would never change. I felt controlled by Tom and I resented his not cumming regularly to let me play things out, despite the inevitable outcome of me never conceiving. I was angry with him for taking the chance to do that away from me. Let’s put it this way, I still feel it was always within his control and that he made the choice not to cum, and I always will feel that way despite how much he denies it. I also don’t buy his feeling bad about it, because if that’s how he really felt, and if he really had a problem that was out of his control, he’d have done something about it a long time ago. So obviously my feelings about it never mattered that much to him, and if they did, they didn’t matter as much to him as his being and staying the way he is mattered to him. For his own reasons, it was always more important to him to keep me from conceiving, than it was to deal with my feelings and do things to give that a chance to happen, despite the odds against it. I’ll never believe Tom’s lack of cumming is out of his hands unless a doctor came out and told me - look. It’s not his fault and there’s nothing that can be done about it. If he couldn’t get hard in the first place, that’d be different.

I still have no regrets about how things turned out. I’m glad we never did have that kid or else we wouldn’t be where we are today in life. I just wish I never had to go through the damn pain of wanting one and knowing I could never have one in the first place. This is why I can never shed my hard feelings towards God, no matter what he blesses me with. That, and how he allows so many horrible things to happen throughout this world. Any God that can let a woman suffer the way he let me suffer can never be respected or loved by me. I’ll never forgive him for robbing me of my right to choose, even if it was the best thing he ever did for me. Still, that should’ve been my decision to make.

Anyway, I finally feel any hard feelings I’ve ever had towards Tom dissipating. He doesn’t ever have to cum, I don’t ever have to play out scenes that weren’t meant to be played out, and I don’t ever have to have invitro. And I don’t resent him anymore. His happiness and his being how he wants to be is what’s most important to me and life is good, overall. Why change a good thing? Like I said, I really appreciate those dry sheets and not having to use birth control! He’s happy, I’m happy, and life will go on and be just wonderful, no matter what it holds for us, as long as we’re together forever. I know we’ll still have our bad days. I know things will still break, money will still be an issue (at least for a while), he’ll still get colds, I’ll still have breathing problems, but I’d rather the car have a flat tire every day if it means being with him than to have any of my old life back. Especially the part before I knew him.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 17, 2000 I decided not to do my grand plan of a diet because I know I’ll only end up working so hard for so little if anything at all. As soon as I started eating again, I’d only gain back whatever weight I lost.

I’ve been working out for six weeks now and Tom says I look different overall. Oh, yeah? Then how come I’m the same exact weight since I began and how come my measurements are the same as they were when I began? I’ll tell you why - because I just don’t have the willpower to eat 1000 calories a day and work out for at least three hours a day. I need 1500-2000 calories a day and I can’t bring myself to work out longer than 20-60 minutes a day.

To top it all off, I’m sick of dealing with it. I’m fat and I’m always going to be. Period. Sometimes the best way to deal with a problem that can’t be solved is to just ignore it. Just crumble it up like an unwanted piece of paper and chuck it in the garbage. That’s all I can do. Just forget it and accept the 20 extra pounds I carry as a part of me that just is. Just like my arms and legs are a part of me.

Later…

Tom fixed one of my programs that wouldn’t run in Windows 98 which is what I’ve been using since my mouse and word processor first died.

Evelyn’s serious about giving us her trailer. She sent home a few pictures of it with Tom. It’s recently been painted, so I guess I won’t be painting it any time soon. It’s white with light blue trim. Again, it’s a 40’ single-wide and looks like Dennis’ trailer, only it’s bigger and newer. It may be a while before we get it because it may be a while before she moves. We’ll have to come up with the money to haul it out here and have it set up. As Tom pointed out today, the thing has to be strapped down with the way the wind is ferocious out here, or else something that size (a fourth of the size of this house, barely) will blow over and smash into this house. We want to put it where half is behind the house, and the other half sticks past the master bedroom end of the house, blocking the view of the rentals. You could probably see the rentals from the kitchen and den windows, but not from the retreat, once it’s here.

Just think, I told Tom, a workshop that comes with a ton of storage space, a place to wash up, and a place to pee! Now he won’t have to come all the way to the house just to pee.

I feel so bad for Evelyn. Yes, I know all too well what it’s like to live in a shit neighborhood with shit neighbors that I just can’t wait to escape! Like most trailer parks, hers is loaded with scum freeloaders. I can just imagine all the noise she has to put up with! I’m sure this place has always been bad too, and that she just couldn’t resist wasting her time like I used to by asking the lazies to lower their music and that by now, she’s just asked one freeloader too many, causing their shit to escalate. You don’t do that to them. You just don’t ask blacks and Mexicans to turn their music down. First they’ll ignore your request, then they’ll get pissed over it. There’s no changing the blacks and Mexicans of this world, although Joebitch’s boy toy did quiet down in the end. Why, they didn’t raise holy hell right before they moved, though, still baffles me to this day. What would they have had to lose at that point if they were out from under the city’s wing?

They have a new series on HBO all about the lives of blacks. No thanks. I don’t care to watch blacks stand out on the streets dealing drugs and shooting people any more than I care for the childbirth.

TUESDAY, MAY 16, 2000 I finished proofreading my story and now it’s Tom’s turn.

Not that I want to have sex more often with this guy, but every day I see he’s such a liar about saying he wants more sex. He spends the bulk of his time that he’s home sitting in front of the TV, never making time for sex when the opportunity’s there, except for once during the weekend.

Later…

Tom put the flag up yesterday. I had him put it by the front door. I’m flying a flag of a cactus and coyote. The same one that hung on the wall in the back room over the microwave in Phoenix.

He also evened out my hair.

It’s very windy right now, as it usually is. It’s nice to hear the wind chimes, but this wind gets old. All it does is scatter the shit outside about the land and interfere with us burning trash. Tom said he heard we could be in for some rain today or tomorrow and it could be only in the mid-60s. Yeah, right! Well, it sure as hell isn’t going to rain. I doubt it’ll rain till August when the monsoons set in.

MONDAY, MAY 15, 2000 At 10:30 last night, Dan got a little desperate for attention. He came out and gunned a thunderous engine for about 20 seconds. You could tell he did it just to do it too, and that he didn’t drive off anywhere. Then, a few minutes later, his music started. He had a lot of outside lights on, so it was obvious that he was outside and that the music was either coming from a vehicle of some kind or through an open window/door. I was trying to read so I threw the fan on. When I turned it off a half-hour later, the music was off, so who knows how long it went on? When is this cock leaving? That’s what I want to know. Or is that a thing of the past now that we’re here? At least this thing doesn’t like the heat and at least it’s hot more often than not out here, cuz I’ve been hearing less and less of him as the weather’s warmed up. That’s why he was out so late, or else I’d have heard him in the afternoon. I’ve never heard his music that late before.

Tom said he’s seen one of the owls we have around here that we can sometimes hear hooting at night. They live in the big Palo Verdes that are close to the house. He said the one he saw was huge.

He also said he’s heard buzzing that sounds like that out of a horror movie, but cannot find any hives. He said he thinks the buzzing could be from katydids, but I doubt it. I think it’s bees.

To do a test to see just how much these allergies are related to the mice, I’ve condensed their living space and am going to change them twice a week instead of once a week.

Standing in the mirror, I took pictures of myself with my haircut. God, I have aged! I just don’t look like I did in my 20s. I’m graying, sagging, wrinkling and fat!

We decided we’d sleep together next Saturday night. I’m going to work with him for a few hours on Saturday, so we don’t want to disrupt my sleep the night before.

Tom just called from the cell phone saying he was approaching Circle K and asked if I wanted anything. I told him he could get me my favorite - caramel coffee.

I have a grand plan to lose this extra weight once and for all and if this doesn’t work, nothing will and I’ll just have to accept the 20 extra pounds I’ve got and live with it. I’ll just maintain what I’ve got and keep my weight between 120-125 for the rest of my life by watching what I eat and by working out if this plan fails.

Having 1000 calories a day for several weeks just won’t cut it for me. It’s too long and drawn out a process and I just don’t have the willpower to cut down my food week after week. Also, cutting down food is an awful lot like cutting down cigarettes; it doesn’t last long. You either smoke or don’t smoke at all. Same goes for the food. So, I’ve decided to try crashing my weight off at 5-pound intervals. It shouldn’t take me more than two days to starve off 5 pounds and if I could just lose at least 15 pounds, I would lose inches. Especially since most of my extra weight is fat at this point. If I can shed that outer layer of fat, then it’s OK if I gain the weight back with muscle, as long as my inches stay down. Anyway, I decided to pick Wednesdays and Thursdays as my crash days because on weekends he’s here eating a lot. I didn’t want to pick a Monday because that’s the day I usually go out and I wouldn’t want to go out if I couldn’t stop somewhere for a bite to eat. Anyway, the idea is to crash down to 120 pounds this week, then try to maintain that till next week. Then I’ll try to crash down to 115 and maintain that till next week when I try to crash down to 110. I’ll settle for 110 for now, depending on how it goes. One of three things will happen. I either won’t be able to do it at all, or I’ll be able to do it but won’t be able to maintain it, or I’ll be able to do it and I will maintain it. The last time I struggled to maintain a weight of 110-115, I didn’t have the Bowflex. Maybe this time around it’d be easier to do, but I will admit it is a long shot because I’m fighting nature. It’s not natural to be at an ideal weight when you’re middle-aged.

God, I wish we had money right now! I can’t believe the Gloria things they’re auctioning on eBay! Concert programs, posters, and CDs I’d love to have even though I’m not into her like I was in the late ’80s to early ’90s.

The amount of childbirth on TV never ceases to amaze me. It’s getting more and more, too. It used to be that every other show, movie, and commercial had childbirth in it, but now they’ve got a whole series just about that! There are three different series that I know of that are on every day and it’s nothing but people having babies. I don’t understand the obsession. I can see the murder mysteries, the sex, and the comedies, but the childbirth? I just don’t get it.

Later…

Just took some gorgeous sunset pictures out back. It’s absolutely beautiful out right now and I can’t wait till we have an Arizona room! That way we can be outdoors and not have to worry about bugs.

Last Saturday was the last of The Others.

SATURDAY, MAY 13, 2000 Oh, these fucking goddamn, motherfucking allergies! They just never quit! I never had anything like this back east. Why is it that I always must trade one problem in for another? Why can’t I ever just solve a problem and let it end there? Ever since I stopped wheezing so bad since quitting smoking, my allergies have been a nightmare. I traded in my smoking addiction for a weight problem. Everything in life for me is a tradeoff. I have to be given a problem in order to get rid of one, and I have to be cursed in order to be blessed. Take Evelyn’s house, for example. You think God’s just gonna let her give us that house without making us pay in some way? Ha! We’ll have hell to go through just to get it and sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, but we really could use the storage and workspace, so if we have to fight for it, we’ll put up our fists and fight.

My allergies got particularly bad when I first got the mice and I wondered if I should just let the ones I have die off and not get more, and if their sterility wasn’t a good thing after all, but Tom said he doesn’t think it’s the mice. He says that if it was, I’d have this every day. Yeah, but will I? It used to be that I’d take a Benadryl, crash for a couple of hours or so, then wake up fine. But now the allergy attack that used to last hours is lasting for days, so what’s to say I won’t end up with this shit every day where I can’t sit and do something for more than five minutes because I have to jump up and blow my runny, sneezy nose? This has been going on now for about 25 hours. I can’t even go a week or two without this shit.

Even though I’m sure I’ll still have this shit every week or two, I condensed the mice’s living quarters. Instead of having 5 or 6 houses set up with a zillion tubes, I’ve got Butter Rum and Oreo in a little cage with just one tube and hideaway, and the others in the big tank with just wheels, their crinkle paper box, and a few tubes.

Having allergies wasn’t the only thing to cause me to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, either. Tom said he screwed up and couldn’t get the groceries early this morning as planned. At first I thought he was saying that he bounced a check, but what he really did was assume that a certain company wouldn’t cash their check till Monday, which is payday anyway. But they did cash the check, so he sold a coin of his for $95 and bought groceries with that. I know he wanted to sell that coin anyway as he said, but all I could think about, once again, was ripping the shit out of Steven and Dan. It’s their fault that we’re in this situation. When are we ever gonna be free of these assholes’ fuck-ups?! They’ve been out of our lives for months now yet they’re still controlling us!

Anyway, I was pissed off cuz I thought our other weekend plans were shot. I said to Tom - so there goes the evening out of my hair, the putting up the flag outside, any sewing we may want to do, and the boring, predictable sex I know would’ve happened tomorrow at the end of your day. I explained that last one by pointing out that while he claims to want spontaneity, I not only know what’s going to happen in bed but lately, I know when it’s going to happen, too. Sunday, late afternoon or early evening, when he’s more tired so he can have an easier time holding back. Anyway, he said we could screw right then, so we did and I only had to know what was going to happen. I could tell it was a struggle for him. He had a hard time holding back, but he managed.

Week five and things are going just as predicted. My weight still bounces between 122-125 pounds, my thighs still bounce between 22-23, my waist still bounces between 29-30, and my tits and hips still bounce between 36-37. It’ll never change. Not without lots of starvation and many hours a day of working out. Neither of which is going to happen because I just don’t have the willpower to do it. Tom, though, insists that little by little it’ll work its way off and areas that haven’t gone down yet will go down in time. Ha! Not a chance. Yes, I went down a little in the lower back, the backs of my thighs, and my upper abs, which is nice, but what about the worst areas, such as my inner thighs, hips, and lower abs? And what about my face, neck, and arms? It’s hopeless. Totally hopeless, just like I’ve been saying week after week. Even if I could weigh 100-110 pounds tomorrow, I’d just have a whole new battle to fight. Maintaining lost weight is almost as hard for me to do as it is to lose it. Like I also said, I’m sick of fighting for the impossible. All I can do is maintain my current weight/inches, which isn’t too hard. Not as hard as it was to maintain 110-115 pounds the last I was there because that’s not natural in this day and age. Middle-aged people are supposed to be 20-50 pounds overweight.

Dan’s still here. Isn’t it a little late to still be here? Makes me wonder if my vibe about his quitting the summer getaways upon our arrival was an accurate one. At least he hasn’t been engine-gunning. All I heard so far this weekend was five seconds of someone’s car stereo. Probably whoever visits the house towards our front. They’d actually be in front of next door. It’s still too bad we couldn’t own all the land within a five-mile radius of this house! But if we did, God would just allow some desperate, attention-seeking asshole to create stereos that could be heard for over five miles, although the stereos that do exist are close to that. Anyway, I’m sure there’ll be stereos that can be heard for 20+ miles away eventually. Eventually, they’ll be too loud for the owners to blast without wearing ear protectors, but they won’t mind. They’re that desperate to put on a show and get noticed.

FRIDAY, MAY 12, 2000 Here we go with the early spotting again. Sometimes I spot a week or two before my period. Why does there have to be such a big deal leading up to my period? Why does it have to start so slowly and be such a long drawn-out process most of the time? Why can’t I just get my period when it’s due? Better yet, why can’t I just have a hysterectomy? I can’t imagine my ever wanting Invitro bad enough. I’m content with life the way it is. We may not have the money we wish we had, but life is good, so why go and change a good thing? Besides, I thought of another way Tom could get his way with it. He’s smart enough to find a way to kill his sperm and have it appear dead when he brought it to the doctor, not that that couldn’t be the case for real. Like I said, a man who can get hard but won’t cum is the way he is for a reason. Not wanting a kid is the only thing I could ever think of. He sure as hell ain’t got no disease he’s trying to protect me from, so what else could it be? All I know is that whether or not I decide I want a kid again in the future, I’ll never have one because God will forbid it and Tom won’t allow it. He’s been manipulating and conning me out of it since day one, save for the few times he came around prime time.

Yesterday we went out to Walgreens and I got that skater Barbie I’ve had my eye on for nearly a year now. She wears a nice outfit with a top, skirt, and stockings mostly in blue. The skirt has a layer of purple trim and one of pink. Her skates are blue too, and there are feathers on her shoulders. She has a USA Olympic gold medal around her neck. She’s perfect for the Barbie stand that came with the Peruvian doll. Regular Barbie feet can’t quite touch the bass of the stand, but one with skates on can. There’s this thing on her back that you wind up to make her spin at the waist that doesn’t work, cuz you know I have to get the broken one. That’s fine, though, because I didn’t buy her to play with her and spin her around. I bought her to decorate with.

I got a couple of doll poster ads from Ashton-Drake. They take notice of what you like/buy. Since I bought Indians and ballerinas, they sent me a poster of an Indian girl and of a baby ballerina which I put on my office wall. My office looks more like a giant dollhouse rather than an office.

I almost broke down and made a doctor’s appointment, but decided against it. I’ve been a little better lately and I still don’t see how they could help me. I just hope it never comes down to where I need medication, for any reason, that my life absolutely depends on because doctors just can’t be depended on. They’re too incompetent and unreliable these days.

I see Gophie out there. It’s nice to know that the snake never got her! In fact, maybe the snake moved on, cuz she’s by its hole right now.

Later…

Oh, my God! We just might be having two houses on our land!! Evelyn’s planning on moving to an apartment in Phoenix because her trailer park is getting bad (I can just imagine!) and she told Tom that if we wanted her trailer, she’d just give it to us. Just give it to us! How great that would be! It’d be the perfect storage/workshop for Tom since we don’t need a guest house. The house is about 40’ long and 20-30 years old. It’s a two-bedroom/one-bath. It only has a living room besides that. No dens or retreats. Tom said he doesn’t remember what color it is, but either way, I’d like to paint it peach. We’ll have to pay a few hundred bucks or so to haul it out here and we’ll have to get permits for it, but it’ll be well worth it. We have different options as far as electricity goes. We have the generator we could use, or we could also use a windmill since it’s windy here most of the time. We have a 2 horsepower well pump that can pump 3 gallons of water per minute, so that’s where its water will come from if we decide to plumb it, and we probably will. It’ll probably go in the back, either just in front or just beyond the second wash, because we’re reserving the land at the master bedroom side of the house for the Arizona room/pool, and the back of the land for horses. Tom again mentioned wanting to get a mare to breed thoroughbred racehorses, and a couple of geldings (castrated males) to use for riding.

We did some research and according to what we could find out, that snake is not a rattlesnake. I didn’t think it was. I never saw any rattles on it and my vibes told me it was harmless. There are two possibilities as to what it could be, and both are anti-venomous. It could be either a coachwhip snake or a king snake. Actually, from what we read, a king snake would be a good thing to have around cuz they eat rattlers.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 10, 2000 Dan’s still here. I see lights on at night and I saw him driving off his property earlier.

We’re going out to Circle K (wish Jennifer still worked there) and to Dairy Queen when he gets in later on.

I figured out what Tom’s doing. At least I’m virtually certain of his motives. You’d think that anyone would be like - what’s he got to lose by cumming when he knows she can’t conceive naturally anyway, so he doesn’t have to worry about having a kid too soon after moving, or whatever, but he doesn’t know I can’t conceive. He may suspect it, but like I always said, he’s not as thoroughly convinced as I am. So after I thought about it for a while, I realized he’s counting on the odds. That’s what he’s doing. He’s decided to himself - I’m not going to cum in case she really can conceive cuz I don’t want a kid. Meanwhile, I’ll count on the odds of her not bothering to have the invitro either, and assume that if I don’t cum and if she doesn’t have the invitro, I won’t ever have to worry about a baby. I still don’t understand why he feels he has to go to such extremes, but like he said, he doesn’t want me to complain and he doesn’t want to feel controlled. He wants to be him. No problem. No problem at all. If I wanted a kid and felt I could conceive, that’d be different. Meanwhile, he’s perfectly welcome to do as he pleases and not cum. I don’t know how he can stand it after getting hard and excited, but obviously he can. He’s been doing it for years and I wasn’t kidding myself when I told myself he was perfectly content to be the way he is and that that’s what he wants. If he didn’t, he’d do something about it, and I don’t believe he needs a doctor to do it for him, either. No doctor can tell him to cum when he gets excited like we know he can/does. Only he can do that, but only when and if he wants to.

Meanwhile, how do I feel? Well, knowing I can’t conceive and that I don’t want a child these days has me OK with how he chooses to be. I’m sorry, but cum is a real pain in the ass. It makes quite a mess. Not only does it mess up the sheets, but it also makes a mess of me, too. I can’t just wash it out of my pussy. I have to put on a liner and let it slowly seep out. How do women with guys who are normal sexually stand it? Most guys don’t just cum, they want to screw/cum just about every day.

Later…

Today turned out to be an exciting day. No, we didn’t go out cuz Tom had a meeting at work and he didn’t get in till 7:30. He would’ve taken me out if I’d insisted, but I didn’t want to. He usually goes to bed at 8:00 and I knew it could be close to 10:00 before we returned if we went out. So, we agreed we’d go out tomorrow and even to the store that has the skater Barbie I want, along with the other stores, but who knows? I get the feeling something doesn’t want me going out this week.

It’s a good thing I wasn’t out at 4:00 today. Gophie hasn’t been using the hole in front that’s about a dozen or so feet away from the house. Instead, she’s been using the hole in the bush further back where the iguanas are. This is where I first saw her, too. Anyway, there were a couple of times I could’ve sworn I saw the tip of a snake sticking out of the hole by the house, but couldn’t be sure. Today, though, proved my theory to be correct about why she hasn’t been using that hole. It sure as hell was a snake! I saw it come up out of the hole while I was working out and this sucker was at least 6’ long! Only 1”-1½” wide, though. It lay sprawled in the middle of the wash and I ran out and got about 8-10 feet up to it and took its picture. I also took one from inside too, to show how close to the house it was. I lost it at one point, but I warned Tom to look out for it when he called to ask if I wanted anything else at the store cuz it might’ve headed down towards where he parks.

I showed Tom the pictures I took of it when he got home, but neither of us is sure if it’s any type of rattlesnake (he’ll investigate online). It didn’t have those diamond markings. It was a grayish-black color with no particular markings, and I don’t remember seeing the rattle at the end of its tail. The tail seemed to get skinnier and skinnier till it tapered off almost as skinny as the tip of a rat’s tail.

Anyway, I guess I’m getting to be quite the wildlife photographer! We’ve got pictures of iguanas, snakes, prairie dogs, and a scorpion, although he took that shot. I need a picture of a jackrabbit and a roadrunner if they’ll stay still long enough. I’d even like a tarantula. Just think of all the people who would think I was absolutely crazy, having rats and mice indoors and snakes just outside my house! Dureen’s gonna cringe when she sees what I live with. Dureen, Tammy and Andy could never stand it out here. Andy would not only hate the long drive to work (when he happened to have a job), and not being able to get to a gay bar in ten minutes or so, but he’d be terrified to be alone out here, whether or not he had a phone and a car. He’d be terrified of homicidal maniacs coming to get him and of the desert creatures out here.

I love this house, living here, not knowing what I’ll see when I look out the window.

As for my animals - yes, this store’s definitely up to something. As Tom suggested, they could be inbreeding too much which will cause early death and sterility. The five mice I just bought are definitely females, which were definitely in with males, which should definitely be pregnant and showing it, but they’re not. This has me really worried about Fudgie and wondering how long he’ll live. I love this rat more than any other pet I’ve ever had in my entire life and it’d be a shame to lose him so soon. He’s so cute, loving, and fun to play with. I lay down on the den floor and he walks a few feet away, then Tom moves and scares him and he comes running back to hide under my neck. He climbs on top of me too, and stands straight up and peers around the room.

In other news, my hair, which was an inch shy of my waist, got cut to about a couple of inches below my shoulders. I’m just sick to death of long hair! Sick of the snarls and having to always braid it to keep it from getting overly knotted. It’d take forever to dry, and I’d have to braid it just to go to bed. If my hair was thin and straight, then yes, I’d let it grow and grow forever, but I just couldn’t deal with it anymore and ran out of patience for it. As I said, I left a little length so I could keep my femininity and gather it into a ponytail to get it off my neck when going out on hot days.

Both of us are pretty proud of what we ended up doing yesterday evening. We each made, from scratch, without any pattern, a dress for Bailey. The one Tom made was just a practice one using this ugly Indian-print pattern that his ma gave me, and the final version, which I traced, cut and sewed, has splotches of lavender, pink, and light blue on a white background. In the end, I sewed a piece of lace around the neck and boy does she look better than ever! It’s short too, so her legs show from the knees down like I always wanted them to cuz she even has such realistic knees, as well as feet. Her body bag has lace trim at the legs, which sticks out a bit under the dress just above the knees and it goes well with the lace up top, making it really look just like a little girl’s dress, rather than a nightgown or a long shirt.

We called to brag to Mary about it and to tell her about the snake. Not surprisingly, she said she’d never have gone outside and a handful of feet away from it.

Tom also told her to think about timing hers and Dave’s vacation with his, so they could go somewhere while Ma was here since we have no desire to go anywhere even if we could afford to. We’ve had enough hotels to last us a lifetime. Of course, Tom doesn’t have to have vacation time while she’s here, but if he did, she could spend more time with him, someone she knows, rather than with me most of the time.

TUESDAY, MAY 9, 2000 Carol looked absolutely terrible in last night’s movie. Just as bad as she did in most of Office Killer. She didn’t look better in that movie till the end when she took her glasses off and let her hair down. In this movie, they had her dressed as a conservative, even geeky school principal with her hair up and thick-rimmed glasses.

Tom said we’d go out today, but then he said we’d go out tomorrow instead so he could milk the gas tank. Just another one of his many delays/procrastination. He felt bad, though, and insisted we could go out today if I really wanted to, but nah, we can wait one more day. Instead, we’re gonna make Bailey a new outfit! At least, we’re gonna try to.

MONDAY, MAY 8, 2000 I set Jade up so she’s standing, leaning against the wall, holding one of the musical dolls. It looks really cool, and Tom thought so, too. I still like to have her hold one of the little teddy bears I got at Game Works, too.

Tom says I don’t look watery or bigger, and that’s what I thought, too. Then why did I gain my weight back? I’ll never be thin. I’ll just never ever be thin. My thin days are long over like I’ve been saying. I’ll always be in the 120s. Period.

I gave Tom a good scare today without even knowing it. He said that on his way home he saw an ambulance turn onto Bitter Root and immediately thought they were headed here. Anyway, it turned out to be going to the house across from Dan’s. Two houses away. The equivalent of twenty houses away in the city.

He brought home a picture that Dennis left him which the selfish opportunist himself took. It was of us standing by the trailer. It wasn’t close up, but even so, you could see my pudgy legs, fat face, and rounded-out arms.

I’m taping another Carol Kane movie right now I haven’t seen yet. This one’s a 1999 movie, and as I said before, I think she got better looking with age. Especially in the face, although I do have a picture of her from the 70s that looks great. I saw her in a 1990 movie the other day and her face didn’t look as good as it did in Office Killer, but her hair sure looked better. It was long, curly, and down to just below her waist. I don’t know if it was all hers or if some of it was hair extensions of any kind.

I had a very strange dream last night about a teacher I had in 5th grade named Joan B. I was about eight the first time I saw her, and in a way, she was my first crush. She was like Norah was at the Harley where no one else liked her or would consider her attractive except for me. She was a toughie, though. All the kids hated her for being so mean and so strict. I would’ve too, if I hadn’t found her attractive. She may have been a bit on the plump side and had brown eyes and long brown hair. She always kept her hair up and I remember how I’d wonder how long it was and what it’d look like down. I remember I looked her up in the phonebook and called her a few times, which she was not happy with. She bitched to my parents about it. She certainly wouldn’t have come out and said so, at least not to me, but I know she had to have despised me. I could just tell.

Anyway, I haven’t seen her in about 25 years and haven’t thought of her in ages. Then last night I had a dream that she was reaching out to me as I was running by her. I woke up with the feeling that she was saying goodbye from the other side. At first I wondered why she’d bother with me, but I had to have stood out in her mind. Any teacher who ever dealt with a loud-mouthed, attention-getting bully like I was could never forget me. I always stood out, and although it wasn’t usually in a good way, I had to have made a lasting impression on her.

If I’ve got my facts straight - she has one son. Her son and her husband’s first name was Richard. Joan lived in Agawam for as long as I could remember. Many years. Anyway, I went online to see if I could find obituaries, but couldn’t. So I looked in the directory and found a Richard B living at a different address in Agawam. Is it the son? The husband? Is Joan really dead? She had to have been in her late 30s to early 40s when I knew her, which means she’s probably around 65-75 years old today. She could be dead, but so could anyone you haven’t seen for 25 years. I told Tom I wanted to call the Richard Bowe I found listed and see if I could find out, but he advised me to wait a month or two. He reminded me of my accuracy rate within the world of the paranormal and said that now wouldn’t be a good time to go calling and asking for someone if they just died. That’s what I’ll do, but I can’t wait to find out if she’s dead or alive in a month. Or at least try to.

SUNDAY, MAY 7, 2000 Jade’s finally done and standing against the wall in my office! Tom stuffed her real good so she’s really rigid. Although she’s a beautiful doll, her head seems a bit big for her 32” body. Her feet and hands are the same sizes as Bailey’s who’s 24”, and her head’s the same size as Ciara’s who’s 38”. She’s wearing Bailey’s sleeper and Bailey’s wearing a dress that came with a big teddy bear of mine. It doesn’t look as good on her, but someday I’ll get new outfits for both Bailey and Jade. 32” dolls are a good size. You can see them well enough without having to walk right up to them, and there’s a lot more wall space to lean them against in here than there is furniture to put them on.

The sex we had at the end of his day, as usual, was very predictable. He was in and out of me in no time at all. It was very obvious that he didn’t want to cum. Especially with how hard he was.

Afterward, I started to get both bummed out and pissed knowing that if I did decide to have Invitro someday I’d have to use someone else’s sperm. Or so I thought. Tom told me something that really made my day. You see, I was always under the impression that a guy had to give sperm right there in the office in a cup just like you do with urine, but that’s not so. He said you can do it at home on your own time, as long as you keep it warm and don’t wait longer than a few days. I didn’t know this, but that’s great! It makes perfect sense too, now that I think about it. Now I can have an easier time letting him be himself and not feel so controlled and manipulated by him like he’s cheating me out of options. It’s nice to know, though, even though I doubt I’ll ever do the invitro, that I have more choices than I thought I did and that I don’t necessarily have to use someone else’s sperm unless his is dead. I don’t have the choices most women do since they can get pregnant for free the natural way, but at least I have more choices than I thought I did, and yes, Tom you can feel very free to be yourself and not cum!

Before he enlightened me on how he’d give his sperm, he said he felt I was controlling him and that he thought I said I wanted him to be him. To me, this is saying he’s admitting he wants to be the way he is and he doesn’t want to be made to feel like he has to change. This is fine, now that I know what I know, but I still don’t get why he’s so determined not to cum when it’s already been established that I can’t conceive naturally, anyway.

Anyway, I’m just so glad to learn what I’ve learned. That still doesn’t mean that I’ll ever want to have Invitro, or that he’d still cooperate and give his sperm, or that God would allow me to have a kid no matter whose sperm it was, but it makes me feel a lot better. Also, every negative has its positive - Tom’s not cumming keeps the sheets nice and dry, and we’ll never need birth control or tubes tied, or vasectomies.

He told me something else, to use as an example, that made no sense to me. He said he didn’t like not sleeping together, but that he just accepts it because he doesn’t want to control me or complain. I get the not liking it part, and I too, wish we could sleep together like any other normal couple, but as I told him, he’s not controlling me or complaining by asking that we try to sleep together at times. As long as he doesn’t make demands, he’s not controlling me. I want him to ask me things because I want to know if there’s ever anything I can do to please him because I love him, so I suggested we try sleeping together on weekends. I said we won’t say that we have to sleep together every night, just try to on weekends. Meanwhile, there’s no control involved. If one of us decides we don’t want to do it, we don’t do it. Period.

No music this weekend. Just the faint beat of a car stereo cruising by somewhere around here for ten seconds last night.

I don’t understand my mice’s behavior. Since when do females and males fight? And since when do mice that have lived together before fight? The mice that lived together in the store that were bought together fight. Out of the five mice I got, three of them are tame, one’s sort of a bully, and one’s a big-time bully. As for the three I had before - Freddie’s tame, Oreo’s sort of a bully, and Butter Rum’s a major bully like Toughie.

SATURDAY, MAY 6, 2000 I finished my story Burned Soul yesterday! Now I’m proofreading it, then Tom’s going to do the same, before sending it off to publishers so it can get rejected. Although it’s easy to say that God won’t allow me to make any money by writing because he’s never allowed me to do things I’ve wanted to do in the past, I also don’t want to be a writer nearly as bad as I once wanted a kid and to be a singer. That still isn’t necessarily a point in my favor, though, since most people rarely get the first thing they submit published, anyway. You usually have to write lots of stories or articles before someone publishes something you’ve written.

Yesterday I woke up at 121 pounds and was still able to shit. I’m back to 122 now. There’s not much of a difference since I began working out four weeks ago, although yes, I am firmer, and yes, I am smaller. But barely. And in some cases, it doesn’t last long. My thighs went down an inch for five minutes, then they were all bloated out again to the usual 23” they are. My chest dropped to 36, my waist is 29½, and my hips are 37.

I can’t be certain, but I might’ve seen a snake sticking out of Gophie’s hole the other day. That may explain why she’s now living in a hole at the other end of the house and why there’s been less lizard activity around.

Today we saw a cute little gray baby jackrabbit sitting out front in the middle of the wash. Tom filmed it, along with Fudgie and Ratsy playing.

This is going to come as a shocker, but I love Fudgie way more than I did Scuttles. He’s a super cool, fun, loving little guy. He’s less of an explorer when I have him out. Instead, he loves to sit and cuddle with me. I lay on the floor and he hides under my neck. Then periodically, he walks a few feet away, then turns around and runs back to hide under my neck. He also climbs on top of me at times, too. He’s a lot mellower than Scuttles was. He’s about as mellow as Mickey was, and he’s not a biter, either. He doesn’t nibble on my toes and fingers like Ratsy loves to.

Although Tom did do a little more work on Jade and play some computer games, he’s spent the whole day in front of the TV, showing no interest in sex. God, he is so unmanly in that way! Again, that’s OK with me. I’m as drained of an appetite as I have been for the last few years now, and when I do get up the urge, I just want to take care of myself, quickly and efficiently. It’s easier to do something yourself than to have to direct someone to go higher, go lower, softer, harder, etc.

THURSDAY, MAY 4, 2000 Wow! I lost a pound. I weigh 122, but the question is - will I ever drop below 120 and stay there? Cuz trying to stay between 110-115 in early 98 to early 99 was a nightmare. Of course, I didn’t have the Bowflex then, either. Well, we’ll see in time where my weight goes, but wherever it goes, it goes. There’s not much I can do about it.

Cybertrails’ service has been absolutely horrid. They’re just like how AOL was for a while where I either can’t get online or when I do, pages won’t load and I get knocked off. Tom says to expect lousy service in a rural area and to just take what I can get from them. Yeah, but it’s never been this bad. This is terrible. It fucking figures, too. Just when I find something I want to do online regularly, I can’t get on. I discovered Carol Kane items being auctioned on eBay that are constantly changing. The web pages, though, stay the same for months, even years, at a time.

Yesterday, I got another garden/floral magazine from Evelyn. I guess Miss Opinionated really likes me. Anyway, there’s nothing I really care about in the magazine, but Tom’s interested in some of their ads. There were also a couple of packets of flower seeds, which we weren’t supposed to get even though they gave them to us. Mary was going to plant them. We offered to give them back, but she said not to bother. Besides, she’s only got so much room for them. Even so, we should never have gotten them because we just can’t grow things here. The animals eat and destroy them. Rabbits, birds, lizards, and probably Gophie too, are eating the seeds and chewing off whatever does start to grow. Tom said we can try planting them indoors till they take off, then put them outside, but I still think they’ll destroy them.

WEDNESDAY, MAY 3, 2000 I don’t believe this. I just don’t believe this! Smokey’s dead. Yesterday evening, just like with Scuttles, he was totally out of it, barely moving, eating or drinking. Then when I got up at 9:00 today, he was gone.

Why are so many of my animals dying lately? Depending on how long Fudgie lives, I may wonder about this store. I got a rat from them that only lived five months, and now a rat that didn’t even live one month. Or maybe it’s a punishment. Meaning, just like I wondered if Scuttle’s death was because of what I did to the Bear, I wonder if Smokey’s death is because I got sick of Butter Rum being such a bully and bopped her upside the head with a nibble stick. I’m just grateful I didn’t get that attached to him so I don’t have to be miserable all over again so soon after I was miserable over losing Scuttles.

I’m really seriously considering quitting singing, although I’ll miss it terribly. I’m just so sick of having to cough and clear my throat just like I did when I smoked. It really takes the fun out of it. Do you know how humiliating that is, having worked so hard for so little?! No, God does not help those who help themselves. It’s even more of a bummer knowing that my lungs will never get better either, even though I’m gonna be stupid and schedule a doctor’s appointment that I know will be a complete waste of time, gas and money. I’m still convinced there’s nothing they can give me that’ll help me. They’ll either give me something that won’t do a damn bit of good (or it’ll at least seem like it’s gonna help at first, then I’ll be like I usually am - tight or congested), or it’ll have bad side effects like that Aerobid did. And as I’ve learned in life - there’s no such thing as “solving a problem.” At least not for me there isn’t. For me, all I can do is trade one problem in for another, so even if I could get something to help my lungs, all I’d be asking for was a brand-new problem to have to deal with year after year. All God gave me for my efforts at quitting smoking was 20 pounds I could never get rid of, and that’s another depressing thing right there.

I’ve pretty much peaked as far as the weight and inches go. After that initial tightening I felt, that’s as far as it’s obviously going to go. I’m never going to have that muscular look I’d like to have. Part of that is because I can’t seem to burn the fat. All I can do is build a little muscle underneath the fat like I did. Also, 123 pounds is as low as I can go from what it looks like, and I can’t lose any more than the inch or so I’ve lost from a couple of select areas. Not unless I start working out for a few hours a day and put myself through lots of starvation. All of which I don’t have the willpower for.

On the bright side - as long as I keep rowing every day and working out a few times a week, I should be able to maintain my weight and inches and keep from ever going above 125 pounds. I’ll also be a little firmer and not feel as energyless or too non-active.

Anyway, I’m not surprised at the results. I mean, I got just what I expected to get - just a few pounds lighter, and an inch smaller, and slightly firmer. I expected to feel the results much more than see them. Especially in my arms and legs. They look just like they always did, but they feel a bit firmer.

I finally got Tom to start working on Jade yesterday, but not without starting to work on her myself. I just get so sick of him saying he’s gonna do things that he doesn’t do. I know he’ll never clean up the property when it gets hot, either. Tom, why do you lie to me so?

Anyway, firming up Jade’s been much quicker and easier than I thought it would be. This is mostly because we cut the body at the sides, arms and legs so we could pack the stuffing in easier. All bodies should come with zippers to these areas if you ask me. Trying to stuff batting down into the legs from the neck is nearly impossible. He got the arms stuffed and stitched up, and part of the body and where the knees are. He’ll work up the legs and down the body till he meets at the sides where her hips are, then we’ll stitch the sides up and take in an inch or so of material at the sides to make it better proportioned. I’m still certain that this body was sewn all wrong. It’s totally disproportionate in the hips. Also, the whole body seems too long for a 32” doll. I really think they gave me a 34” or 36” body. A disproportionate 34” or 36” body.

Later…

Quitting singing is easier said than done. I could never quit. It’s just so much a part of me as my arms and legs are. I’ll just have to sing when my lungs/nose will allow it.

Carol Kane was in a 1984 movie earlier. She only had a little part and looked like a geek. She got better looking with age if you ask me. Well, I’ll be checking out other movies on the 5th, 8th, and 14th of this month. I can’t wait for Office Killer and When a Stranger Calls Back to run again!

TV shows and movies still seem to be riddled with childbirth and I still don’t know what the obsession’s all about.

MONDAY, MAY 1, 2000 I forgot to write about Sunday’s sex. It was predictable in the sense that I knew he wouldn’t cum, but it was otherwise not very predictable. I decided at the last minute to have him go down on me and he not only did, but I got off. It seemed to take forever, though. I thought that because he went down on me he’d bail out of screwing cuz he never really liked doing more than one thing per session, but we screwed afterward. He went faster this time as if he had more strength and energy from working out. He was either putting on a good show or else he really was just out of shape. I think it was always a combination of him being unfit as well as scared.

He knows that I got my period at the end of last month. It wasn’t possible to hide it from him when he saw he had blood on his dick that could only have come from me. So, that means he’s gonna chicken out on me and want to play games around the 10th of this month. Like I could really get pregnant even if he did cum? Yeah, right! Anyway, I’ll probably avoid him myself at that time cuz I won’t be in the mood to play games of any kind and have him conveniently “forget” how to get inside or something like that. As long as he can’t admit his fears on his own, then I’m gonna have to be the responsible one here. I don’t want him put in a position that makes him uncomfortable and I know that although I know I’m sterile and he hates having sex, as cumless as it is, when I’m mid-cycle.

[dollycas]

Sunday Salon / Sunday Post – A Week in the Life of Dollycas – Weekly Rewind – New Arrivals

The Sunday Salon is a Facebook group that has become an informal week-in-review gathering place for bloggers. It is also a place to share our thoughts about things of a bookish nature. You can also link up weekly on Readerbuzz. The Sunday Post is a weekly meme hosted by Kimberly @ Caffeinated Book Reviewer ~ It’s a chance to share news~ A post to recap the past week on your blog, showcase books and things we have received, and share news about what is coming up on our blog for the week ahead. HAPPY SUNDAY EVERYONE! Last Saturday night a huge thunderstorm system rolled through our area. Some people had trees down and a lot of damage. We didn't lose power this time and suffered no real exterior damage but the ground couldn't handle all the rainwater. Reports said we received between 8 to 12 inches of rain in a very short time. Streets and basements were flooded including ours. Thankfully we did a major clean-up in our basement a couple of months ago and most things have been stored in plastic totes with covers. It is days like these I am thankful we are renting our home because the water was coming in so fast that by the time the landlord got here there was more than 3 feet of water down there and some of the totes were tipped over or floating. Surprisingly, none of them popped open. Our landlord is much younger and more agile than us and he knew where a release valve was and a good old plumber's wrench opened that baby up and the water started to go down immediately. He has returned almost every day since then to remove any lingering water and to relight the water heater and the furnace.  He brought in fans to dry it out and will be replacing the dehumidifier that didn't survive its plunge. I would have hated for Mr. Dollycas to handle all this on his own. Tuesday was a mostly cloudy day and we had a little rain but we were able to travel to watch our granddaughter Natalie play a softball doubleheader. She pitched the first couple of innings and did a fantastic job. They tied the first game 7 - 7 and won the second 15 - 9. Then on Wednesday, we had just a short drive to watch Remi's baseball game. I think I have mentioned this is his 1st year playing and he is now pitching too. According to Mr. Dollycas, he has a perfect batting stance. I think he has played every position except catcher. Again the teams started evenly matched but soon Remi and his teammates started making incredible hits. We heard a lot of pings as the bats hit the balls. In his league, they have to play a minimum of 4 innings but the game was out of hand. Our coaches held the boys to one base at a time and then the other team had the bottom of the 4th inning to try to catch up. That didn't happen. Our kids were thrilled to win 16 - 2, but everyone felt bad for the players and coaches on the other team. They had an off night, and we were on fire. The weather was great too. The rest of the week we stuck around home doing our normal work, reading, watching television, repeat. It was much cooler all week too, so we could turn off the air conditioners and breathe some fresh air. How was your week? Weekly Rewind - June 24 - 29, 2024 Monday - My Reading Itinerary Monday! – Week #26 – 2024 Tuesday - Special Guest Marla A. White – Author of Framed For Murder (A Pine Cove Mystery) #Author Interview / #Giveaway – Great Escapes Book Tour Plus - Breach: A Terrifying Summer Adventure by Holly S. Roberts #Review / #Giveaway – Great Escapes Book Tour @hollysrobertsauthor This book received my Paradise Rating. Wednesday - Book Blast – Audio Book – Double Scoop of Murder: Coffee & Cream Café Mysteries by Lena Gregory – Read by Eleanor McCormick @lenagregory Plus - Cozy Wednesday featuring Torn Asunder (A Maine Clambake Mystery) by Barbara Ross #Review / #Giveaway @KensingtonBooks @barbross Thursday - Special Guest Jeannette de Beauvoir – Author of The Honeymoon Homicides: A Provincetown Mystery (Sydney Riley Series) #GuestPost / #Giveaway @jeannettedebeauvoir – Great Escapes Book Tour Friday - #FlashbackFriday – Murder at the Blueberry Festival (A Beacon Bakeshop Mystery) by Darci Hannah #Review / #ARC Giveaway @KensingtonBooks @AuthorDarciHannah Plus - Lori Roberts Herbst Saturday - Special Guest – Dave Dobson- Author of What Grows From the Dead #AuthorInterview / #Giveaway – Great Escapes Book Tour @GCDaveDobs @davedobsonfromiowaon @frosthelmbooks Plus - Death By Betrayal: A Josiah Reynolds Mystery by Abigail Keam #Spotlight / #Giveaway – Great Escapes Book Tour @abigailkeamauthor @author.abigailkeam What Grows From the Dead is free right now for Kindle on Amazon. Happy Reading Everyone!!! Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent Read the full article

[haptureratch]

time to vent/process again

Susan called this morning to check up on me and make sure I was still able to get things like food for myself. I let her know I am doing better as far as Covid goes and I'm able to eat a little with Zofran but my mental health is not doing well (I was compelled to open up about that and knew she would be a safe space since she looks out for Bethani). When I brought up trying to come back to work Monday she immediately dismissed that by saying "the work will get done, I just want to make sure you're alright" .... I thanked her for her care and hung up the phone. And the realization that someone was thinking about me and is willing to help if my mom was unable coupled with the realization that subconsciously I've been thinking it's all up to me to get better. And I just cried. Because I am so tired of my default being so hard on myself all the time and never relaxing into people as support systems. WHY is it STILL so hard to accept support? And even harder to ask for it? The only thing I really did was fully step away from work without a thought about my patients. That's the only thing I trusted; why do I not believe there are people willing to help me beyond the basic duties of their job?

Before that I was feeling sad/neglected about Steven again. When is this gonna stop already???????? I am so TIRED of myself. Rilley said this is normal because the relationship is still new and we barely get to see each other. But I am so sick and tired of still feeling forgotten when he doesn't text me in the evenings when he's home from work. And I really don't want to keep asking because I don't want him to force it or get tired of me. And I try all of the rationalization tricks in my head and they don't stick. I woke up at 5am anxious because for two nights in a row he didn't reach out to me after work. I literally hate myself. Rilley said it took her a very long time to relax with Ryan and that I'm being too hard on myself.

It's been so beautiful to be loved by Steven. All I ever wanted was to be seen and loved. But being seen means you can't hide. And not being able to hide has left me very anxious and uncomfortable on and off for months. Before I met him I had--wow he was right. I had all these systems in place to keep going. I mean it wasn't the greatest. I still had breakdowns. But it's like it's all been uncovered and the only way now is through. I can't turn back anymore, can't turn away into whatever I was numbing my mind with. But I've never gone through. I've endured. I've sat alongside it. Certainly been swallowed whole by it. But I never really went THROUGH (which for me is going to be pharmacologic treatment). And it's the most uncomfortable thing ever. I guess I just don't see the bridge yet. I see a huge cliff and I'm either hanging over the edge holding on for dear life or trying to have a controlled slide down (which isn't possible). I have to find the bridge and understand there is an other side. .... Covid really threw a wrench into things. I'm supposed to be on Wellbutrin right now but I haven't been able to start due to my dependence on Zofran to make it through all this nausea. And by now I'm sure the nausea is from my own anxiety. Such a catch-22.

I'm so tired of sounding like a broken record. I'm so tired of telling Steven I'm dealing with something. I just want to be "normal" and have hobbies and work toward passions and not be breaking down every couple days over the same things. Again and again. It's not even tied to my period right now. It's just like....almost every day and I can't stand myself.

July 1st is coming. Another thing on my plate. I think I've had this thought before but it's definitely apparent to me now: I failed because I refused to be seen. I failed because I did not reach out for help adequately. Sometimes my mental health is like caring for an elderly dog with a chronic illness--you know there will be empathy for you. You know people will understand if they come inside and see the place a mess with dirty dishes in the sink and laundry piled on the couch. 'She's caring for that poor dog, that's acceptable, let's help her.' But other times my mental health is like housing a feral cat and you're so full of shame that you can't bare to let anyone know the curtains are shredded and you're riddled with fleas and ticks and every disease it carried in because you did this to yourself. 'What the fuck is even her problem. Let's just back away. She already knows this isn't acceptable.'

It's exactly like that. The darkest most self-conscious parts of this feel so shameful.

And I think this has all been so hard for me because of Steven seeing me since February. Because like I said, I can't run away from it anymore. I think that's why I had that breakdown during the Frightmare weekend. Panic at the knowledge that I'm going to have to go all the way through this. There can be no hiding anymore. I could choose comfort, break up with him, and go back to living my life with all my systems. But I can't do that. Now that I've seen what life can be like, how much happiness I might be allowed to have.

This is just the hard part. The viscerally and uncomfortably HARD part. That I don't know how long will last or how much worse it might get. And, of course, there is a part of me terrified that I will always be this way. :(

[iexistfor1post]

Rambly I think

I think my brain really needs to accept that I am never, ever going to calm down. I guess

What I mean is my brain needs to accept that changes are going to happen and that I'd rather not be anxious twenty-four seven

I'm still having to get used to having to change my Messenger app. And so i'm anxious about it now

Too many changes and my brain hates it

Like i've only kind of gotten used to my new phone despite having it for a couple months now

It is just very clear to see that my brain has been running on anxiety

With just a flick, they switch if it's on or off at the moment

And even then, it's always like a tiny bit of anxiety, is there and it's stupid stupid, it's stupid

I was gonna draw, but anxiety just made me wanna go lie down?

You know, hide under the covers. Listen to youtube for hours instead of doing something that was bringing me joy

Not that watching youtube doesn't bring me joy

The thing is, it is bad to not have good sleep for anxiety and other issues I guess

But ISO badly went to sleep-deprived. Myself so my brain will not be really anxious, so I can get used to shit

Cause. How can my brain work when it has to focus on not sleeping hmmm

...

It makes me sad to think that despite all the stuff that I love. In like present day and stuff, I like and stuff I liked in middle school and high school

It makes me sad that I honestly wish I was still a kid in the early to mid 2000s to early 2010s

Mostly the early to mid 2000s

Like I do get joy in the everyday. Of my life, I guess sort of

But there's just a part of me that's just longing for when life was just easy for me

And like it was always kind of easy, I didn't have to really do anything

Like I did have some fun in high school and middle school. But I am not missing it, I guess

I just think being a tiny child is what's bringing peace. Or something like I don't know like why?

What about being a small child makes me long for it

You have no freedom as a tiny child

...

Do I just wish to be cared for in a certain way???

Like I am an adult but I still live with my parents

I don't have to pay rent

I help with groceries

I have a job

I am technically secure because of my parents

Try as anyone might, but nobody can convince me that the world isn't scary

Like I think I'm kind of breaking down despite literally having fun. This entire day so far

All because of a stupid message app being different to the one I had for around a decade or something.

It is stupid

...

I am stupid :(

It's like I feel trapped but I don't want to go anywhere. I don't wanna be free

But like I'm that sad creature in the cage

Like me. Typing this down is me trying to bring peace to myself and help my brain

I feel like I'd go in circles sometimes

It is the same post almost every time

From what I turn from, I was never good at change

I didn't like it when I had to move. But that just sounds like a normal kid thing

But literally a year after moving my anxiety started, I guess

Like the 1st day of school, my nerves made me feel sick. In almost every year after that, it was the same thing for the first day or two

But I was still a kid and I was having fun in life. I just wasn't good at making friends

Looking back now I can say the internet wasn't a good thing for me

It still isn't

Cus the internet became my escape

It was fun and is still fun but...

My social skills suck

I have no drive in life

It really just feels like I want to be hand held in life

My love for school died in middle school so I never want to go to college

Excuses excuses excuses

It isn't even like I wish I was born in a different time period

I am pretty sure I would flail there also

Especially since my anxiety is bad

Also btw even though no one reads

I haven't been diagnosed with Anxiety but I think by reading and stuff we can tell I have it

....

Also as much as I don't want to think about it I could have depression

Like idk

I know my maternal grandma has depression

My mom I think as anxiety and I think depression but idk if diagnosed

My nieces have depression and I think one of them as anxiety

My brother has anxiety (and adhd)

Like something definitely runs in my family

I mean, I could take "fun" online quizzes

Maybe laughing at my "pain" will help.

===

Took one for just anxiety not anxiety disorder

I got High Anxiety... 75%

To which the random quiz says It could be anxiety disorder

Uh huh yeah no I kind got that when the past couple months have been on and off in trash feelings

Quiz told me to get therapy then (as it needs to say) that it isn't professional advice

Shoot I took their anxiety disorder quiz and got 75% there also

Which makes sense even though the questions were different enough

I never know how to a answer the panic attack question cuz it also seems to be hyperventilating which I almost never do

I get shaky and my heart pound and I pace even more than I normally do

That doesn't sound like a panic attck

Though I do also want to go and hide but like that also doesn't sound like a panic attack

Took another of their quizzes

Highly anxiety personality 62&%

I honestly don't know ow where I was going with this

I left and came back to this 3 hours later

I am feeling slightly better now

[diary-of-an-addict]

I’ve always been partial to the poem about people being in your life for a season, a reason, or a lifetime.

It’s funny because even with my liking to this poem I often forget that I am a season person.

I’ve always struggled to make and maintain lasting relationships. It’s almost as if the majority of not all the people I encounter no matter how much I want them to stay around are merely there to either teach me a lesson or be there and gone when things benefit them.

I learned this lesson again recently. It was my daughter 1st birthday and of course I have a new group of friends found where most adults do in my place of employment so that’s who I invite. Yet attending a 1 year olds birthday isn’t exciting. And neither is supporting your supposed friend on the first anniversary of what was likely one of the most traumatic days of her life, but they don’t see those thoughts those feelings. Or maybe they do and they just don’t care.

I often find myself remembering a time when my life was much more hectic yet I was so happy the people in my life some still even around like family to me. The people who continue to cheer me on from a far but always show up when you need them. Why is it so easy for me to forget about them and be so upset about those who obviously don’t even care.

I feel like I’m drowning within my mind. My thoughts float away from my mind and quickly as I think them lately.

It’s like I have a flickering bulb in my brain one minute it’s on then the next it’s blank. I’ve felt this shut off once before. Unable to remember door codes I had set the day before.

I’m sinking into the darkness and I have no where to turn so here I am again writing words. I come here every couple months spill the thoughts that flow through my mind. I wonder if anyone reads this probably not so I just continue to write.

Pointless complaints about a mind so broken even humpty dumptys men couldn’t put it back together again.

I’m a burden. A strain on my family, a menace as a mom, a train wreck as a daughter, used to be the only thing I did right was work and I can’t even do that anymore.

I drown my sorrows without the ability to stop but why would I want to it’s the only thing that seems to care and want to take away this pain I’m in.

You always hear check on your strong friends. Don’t forget to check in with the happy one of the group. Blah blah blah yeah that’s me smiling on the outside while inside I want to die of a thousand cuts. Never allowing anyone to get close enough to me to know the darkness that lies within. Maybe that’s the problem I don’t let people be lifetime friends. It must be my fault why people can’t be there for me. I’m too awkward, annoying, clingy. Too soft spoken to express my needs or boundaries then when I do if they are questioned I just put them back in the padded box they came from because why do my needs care when they obviously are interfering with what someone else is trying to do.

I fucking hate myself and i wish so badly I didn’t but I do. I try so hard to be the person everyone wants me to but while doing so I’ve lost sight of myself. The things I love, and simply enjoy to do. Im miserable in my own skin but the sad thing is I don’t see another way.

[faiiryygff]

Where are you Adam? Part 1

This take place between SAW I and SAW 7

Watching the movies, I always felt that something was missing from Adam's character. He never really mentioned his family so his death was less sad like no one was going to miss him compares to Lawrence who had a wife and a daughter. So I thought that, what if I created what was missing from my point of view , it could make his death a lot more sadder and create more stories. (Yes I love to created my own characters when I watch anything) I don't really know when SAW takes place (or don't even remember lmao) so I am going to invent my own timeline and don't be surprised if some things don't work together with the time and some stuff might be inconsistent but it's necessary for my story

So enjoy and sorry in advance for the mistakes, English isn't my first language.

On May 28 2004, my brother disappeared. Well, I assumed it was that day because I never heard of him again after. He told me that he was going to take pictures outside and he will call me back and he get home to developed them. As you can guess, he never did.

No call, no text, no email, nothing, he just vanished into thin air. One day I was on the phone with him and the other I was leaving a hundred messages on his voice mail.

At first, I wasn't worried, even if he said he was going to call back,Adam wasn't the kind of the guy to check his voice mail but it never lasted more than a couple of days. I knew that during that time, he was working on his pictures so he probably forgot to call me back.

But this time, it was longer and he never called me back, so with that, I started to freak out and realized that something might be wrong.

On June 1st 2004, I went to the police station and they told me that they couldn't do anything, Adam was a grown man and had every right to "disappear".

"Asshole" I thought to myself as push the door to exist the building. The cops wasn't even going to help me. Ok, it was only a couple of days but my brother would never do that!

This cop, Eric Matthews was really going to seat at his office and do nothing, but I wasn't going to give up and let this case go to oblivion.

I didn't know it then but it was the beginning of my downfall.

September 11th 2004

Still no news of Adam. It's been three months, he never did that. He could go without texting me during two days but three months? No something really happened to him and I started to feel sick.

During those months, I barely sleep, eat, take care of myself... I looked like a zombie, I was awful and I looked very skinny. I only had strength. Adam was my only family, our parents died a couple years ago and he went no contacts with the rest of our family since almost my entire life because of some crazy issues. So it was just him and I and know, it was only me. But I wasn't going to give up! I know he wouldn't either.

As a walk back into the police station, Mathews rolls his eyes in the air.

-I know, I know, you hate me but anything new to tell me?

- Cordelia, like I told you last week, we still don't have any traces of your brother. We officially declared him missing but you know that we can't do more, we don't even know where to start!

-Have you even check his apartment ?!

-Twice, and we haven't found anything suspicious, everything look like Adam left on his own will.

-Impossible, someone had to rearrange his apartment to make it look like that. My brother would NEVER leave without telling anyone or leave everything behind him.

-Maybe he did it this time.

-That's fucking bullshit and you know it!

-Cordelia please, you know I can't do more.

-Don't lie to me. I know you can do more

-Maybe he just wanted to go!

-Stop saying that! As I yelled storming of the building.

As I lighted my cigarette, I told to myself out loud "what a fucking bitch". As I take a puff I heard some steps behind me, I turned around to see a man standing behind, I didn't knew him but he seemed to knew me.

-If you let us more time, maybe we could do better to find your brother.

-It's been three months man! And who the fuck are you supposed to be?! I yelled to the guy in front of me and I threw away my cigarette and crushed it with my foot.

-Detective Mark Hoffman

"SHIT" I thought and my face fell. "Oh shit" I thought again, I do know him, a couple of years, his sister died, she was murder by her crazy ex-boyfriend.

-Sorry, I am just...

-On edge?

-Exactly, I haven't slept in days, doesn't help me to think straight.

A tear rolled down to my cheek and Hoffman seemed to see it.

-Well, you should really tried to sleep, staying awake isn't going to help at all. I know what you are going through and trust me, letting yourself die isn't going to help you find your brother.

-I don't know what I am supposed to do.

-Nothing, you do nothing and go home, we handle it.

-I don't know how you are holding up...

-Well I don't know either.

-Sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful.

-I know, go home Cordelia. I'll call you if I have any news.

-Thank you.

December 14th 2006

This day is fucking shitty, I can't seems to find anything, feels like someone moved everything in my apartment. I am loosing my mind. And to make me even worse, it's been almost two years that Adam disappeared and I just heard an awful news. His neighborhood Amanda Young, was a fucking psychopath. The jigsaw killer is dead, his name was John Kramer and he had an accomplice: her. I felt sick to my stomach, what if she had something to do with his disappearance?

My phone choose the perfect moment to rang, unknown number.

-Hello?

-Cordelia Stanheight?

-Yes, who is it?

-Special agent Peter Strahm, I need you to come to the police station.

-Like right now?

-Yes please.

-Ok, I would be there soon.

Hmm, first time that the police station call me, that means that I am probably going to end up my day crying.

As I started to walk closer to the police station, my heart started to pound like crazy and my hands to sweat.

I pushed the door and walked to the receptionist.

-Hi, I ... hum I ... Agent Strahm is excepting me?

God, I couldn't even talk probably, this meeting was going to be a disaster

-Oh miss Stanheight, he'll be here any second.

-Thanks.

As I step aside, I spotted Hoffman. He looked stressed and angry. When he saw me, he walked toward me.

-What are you doing here?

-Well, I was called here and I have no fucking clue why. I am so stressed, he didn't tell me anything.

-Who?

-A guy named Peter Strahm.

-Hmm, that's not good news.

-Why?

-You'll see by yourself, he is coming here.

Mark stepped away, leaving me with Strahm that was coming. Thank you, know I was feeling disease and except to faint any second know.

-Follow me please.

-Is it about my brother?

-Not quite I am afraid.

Shit.

Agent Strahm seemed to be like the type of guy always on edge, ready to snap any moment and I had to admit it, it really freaked me out.

We where on a interrogation room, I was sitting on a chair and I had a table in front of me. On it, I could see many pictures and I spotted Amanda Young on it. Strahm walking around the room while talking to me, which made very uncomfortable.

-How do you know Amanda Young?

-Hum, she was my brother's neighborhood, they lived on the same landing, in fact they lived right next door.

-Did you ever talked to her?

-Yes, quite a few times, nothing big, only courtesies because we really didn't knew each other. But she seemed like a nice girl, she was very shy around everyone, I am very surprised to see that it wasn't actually how she was.

He took notes of every of my words, trying not to miss anything.

-Right, did you knew that she was involved in a serious case of murders?

-Not until this morning, I read it on the newspapers, I was really shocked.

-Well, sine you did knew her, I have to think about everything, like maybe you knew something.

-I understand, it wasn't the case. Amanda was a stranger to me.

-Did you brother had a chance to get to know her better?

-I think he had a crush on her but he never made the move, he was scared and know that I know things, it was the right move.

-Thank you Cordelia for your times. Is there anything you might remember?

-No, noth... Actually yes. One day, she came back covered in blood, i know now it was the day she was trapped but since that day, she changed a little bit, nothing big since I didn't knew her but the way she dressed, talked, how she chopped almost all of her hair... Maybe nearly dying changed her? I don't know.

-Probably because she became a murderer. Next questions isn't about Amanda Young but about Eric Matthews.

-What about him?

-How would you define your relationship with him.

-Neutral, he was the detective in charge of my brother disappearance before Mark Hoffman took over.

-Did you liked him?

-Well, he was kind of a bitch, making me feel guilty about the fact Adam was missing, like it was my fault.

-It doesn't answer my question.

-No I didn't liked him, but I didn't hated him, he was just very cold with me in the end about my brother and I hated it. Probably got tired of seeing me everyday but I was and still I am hurting. He would do the same if his son was dying.

-Did you know that he died?

-I am sorry what?

I was in complitely shock, how?

-He was in a Jigsaw trap and unfortunatly die.

-Oh my god, what about Daniel?

-He his fine, he his staying with his mother. You know, you seem like a good person Cordelia but he can confirm like me that it is weird what about to him?

I giggled nervously.

-You think that I am like what, responsible?

-Maybe.

-Are you out of your fucking mind?

-No, just being realistic

-How can you go from a very nice guy to an asshole in two second?!

-It's been a year, and since your last visit in the station, you took your distance why? And since you just confirmed me that you didn't like him, I can imagine things. Not to speak about the things I heard, you, yelled at him and Insulted him.

-Because it's been almost two years that my brother disappeared and I was starting to loose hope! I was going completely insane and no one wanted to help me ! Coming here was useless! Eric knew how I was, he knew it wasn't personal, I hated to cop that couldn't help me, not the person. I was just sad! I have nothing NOTHING to do with his disappearance.

-That's it for today, you can go home now but stay in town just in case we need you back.

I have never felt so humiliated and insulted in all my life, this Peter Strahm was such a dick. When the fresh air of the street touch my face, I burst into tears. How dared him talked to me like that. I grab my purse to grab a cigarette. I knew it was really bad but that was the only thing that keep whole. I grabbed my lighter and lighted it.

-You know this thing is going to kill you one day.

-Not if I kill myself first.

He took the cigarette from my mouth before throwing it on the ground and crushing it.

-Hey!

-What happened? Asked me Hoffman.

-Well that fucking agent assumed that I had something to do with Eric disappearance since I was a bitch to him.

-Sorry to hear that, he is really on edge lately, his partner almost died and he feel responsible for it. And his trying to catch the person who is committing all this murders.

-I get it but it's still not a way to talk to me like that!

-Don't take it personal, he is like this with everyone.

He gave me a tap on the shoulder and left to the police station.

I grabbed another cigarette and smocked again and burst into tears again too. It was one of the worst day of my life, I felt like dying.

There is this track that I have never explored. Before he disappeared, Adam told me that a guy paid him a ton of money to photograph a guy. What was his name again? Yes, Lawrence Gordon.

As I came back in my apartment, I directly saw the picture of Adam and me, I collapse and cried for longs minutes. My life was empty, this apartment was empty without him. I was lost and just wanted to die.

While I was crying my last tears, I remember something very important. The day Adam went missing, he told me he was going to take some pictures. It wasn't just any photos, someone had paid him a large sum of money to follow and photograph a guy. I have his name right on the tip of my tongue, something in L, Laurent… No… I got it, Lawrence Gordon. More particularly Doctor Lawrence Gordon.

He might know a thing or two about Adam. At least I hope.

[treadmilltreats]

When you lose your peace, you will do any to get it back

It took me a long time to get to this space I am in now. For years, I didn't like myself, I hated my life, and I was unhappy. But I eventually learned to take time out for myself. To let go of the stuff, I couldn't change and find inner peace and joy.

Let me tell you, when you get to a place where you have your peace and something happens where your peace is disturbed, you feel it right away. There is an uneasiness that fills you, you start to worry about things,you feel off balance and unsettled just like how I used to feel in the past.

I don't ever want to go back to the days of darkness, where I couldn't see the sun, where I couldn't find things to smile about. Where I hated my life and myself. No, there will not be a return visit for me.

Each and every day I wake up, I choose to be happy. I choose to be grateful. I choose to see the world through rose colored glasses. It is a choice, my choice, and I chose to have peace in my life.

I have girlfriends that have drama in their lives, and every day, they want to drag me into their drama. I love you, but unless you choose to change, then you must like the situation you are in.

How many times do you need to go through the same stuff expecting different results? It's called insanity!

I chose not to hang out with negative people, as they suck all the life out of you. I want to surround myself with people who are positive, happy, and love life, even with all the ups and downs.

Life is a choice. There are choices every day. You choose not to do drugs. You choose not to steal or hurt people. You choose not to cheat or to be miserable. These are choices you make every day.

We live in the greatest country in the world, a country that allows you to choose. How great is that?

It took me so very long to get to a place of peacefulness. Every dark night, every tear, every cry to God for help was worth it as I have found a place in my life that is so incredible that even as a writer, I have no words to describe this feeling!

When I got sucked into the drama that was my life for those few months, years ago, I realized just how much I needed my peace.

I felt I was swimming upstream against the current, fighting just to catch my breath, and seriously, who wants to live like that?

Are you living like that? Is each day a struggle? Are you surrounded by negative people? Are you caught up in a drama-filled life? You need to choose. You need to step out and step up to a better life. This is your life, people, and you only get one trip. Why spend it worried, anxious, hateful, or miserable. Isn't it better to feel peace and joy, gratefulness, forgiveness, and be one with God and the universe?

So today, my friends, remember it is a new day, erase the past, start over, wake up, and choose wisely.

"Be the change you want to see,"

@TreadmillTreats

And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly"

**Now released my latest book**

The Blessing in Disguise.... revealed

https://www.amazon.com/Blessing-Disguise-Revealed-story-faith/dp/1074340493/ref=sr_1_19?keywords=the+blessing+in+disguise&qid=1561392004&s=books&sr=1-19

***Now available***

My 1st book The blessing in Disguise

Selling on my website:

Http://www.treadmilltreats.com

And on Amazon.com

http://www.amazon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_13?qid=1462358109&sr=1-13&pi=AC_SX236_SY340_FMwebp_QL65&keywords=the+blessing+in+Disguise

http://www.am6azon.com/gp/aw/d/0692437398/ref=mp_s_a_1_12?qid=1434452632&sr=8-12&pi=AC_SX110_SY165_QL70&keywords=the+Blessing+in+Disguise

My weekly Youtube page, please subscribe:

https://youtu.be/LDSXCFJVnzM

Http://www.treadmilltreats.com

Twitter: treadmill treats

Instagram: treadmilltreats

Facebook :treadmill treats

Http://Www.treadmilltreats.com

#treadmilltreats

#Theblessingindisguise

#blog

#blogger

#love

#instagram

#lifestyle

#blogging

#influencer

#bloggers

#bloggerlife

#Garyvee

#Jayshetty

#write

#writer

#motivationalspeaker

#motivation

#motivationalquotes

#motivational

#inspiration

#success

#quotes

#soulsisterssoulution

#NewYorktimesbestseller

#Oprah

#TylerPerry

[ruby2stardust]

This post. One year ago, I watched Bocchi the Rock. And I still stand by every single word, now even more strongly than I did then. I have watched and rewatched this show so many times in one year. Maybe 13 times? Probably more. Read the whole manga three times. Read a frankly unhealthy amount of fanfiction. I have sung its praises to my family and friends, I have written multiple essays even if I haven't shared a single one. I have a Google drive folder where I personally made my own take on the translated lyrics of each song. Somehow, some way, I still have more to say. I'll get quite personal and a little dark. I have to explain how much this series has meant to me. To do that, I have to give a good picture of where I was.

365 days ago, I was tired. College classes will do that. Especially when you have Autism and ADHD and anxiety and probably a few other things too. I was awful in school. I have been since 1st grade, and I don't know why I pressured myself into taking college classes. So yeah I was failing every class because I didn't know I had ADHD and I would stare at math problems for hours on end doing absolutely nothing trying to psyche myself up before curling into a ball to cry.

But that was just school. I had done school before. For years. The worst of it was something else. I was lonely. My family was distant. Always distant. Worse, the friends I made in high school turned out to be real jerks at times. Between blatant and open homophobia/transphobia to peer pressuring others into saying racial slurs as if it were an initiation ritual. I was always uncomfortable with it, but I had finally worked up the courage to get out of that group. At first, it was freeing. But every passing day, I didn't have people to talk to. I felt worse. I missed them. I had a hard time making friends, but those people had wanted me. I hated that I missed them.

Now, if you've watched the show, you understand what that loneliness looks like. At least a little bit. The first scene of the first episode in all its melancholy. I felt like that, but all the time and way worse. Social anxiety is a trap. The snake eating its own tail. I am alone, I do not want to be alone, but what if I ruin it? What if I mess it up? What if I do something dumb? I'll just wait for others to come to me. And so, I am still alone. It is a hard cycle to break, and even when people do try to talk to you, it's easy to miss the chance to make something of it.

I never blamed myself. My old "friends" were keeping me in an uncomfortable place, so I left. But I hated myself for missing them. I would sit by the train track each day, waiting to go to class. I would wonder, should I just walk down it? It would only lead to one place. In retrospect, I knew I didn't want that. But I felt trapped by my own emotions.

December 19th, 2022. Enter silly anime about teenage girls playing guitar. I watched eleven episodes in one day. And I was bawling my eyes out by the end. There are so many jokes about how relatable the show is. Yes. That's what drew so many in. From the first few seconds, I could relate to Hitori. But that wasn't what made it special. It was how she was portrayed, walking the empty hallways, the hunched posture, the panic attacks, and the self depreciating thoughts. All of it seeming sort of ridiculous, but it was very real to her. She was lonely. She couldn't speak up. And she always seemed to miss her chance. So she just retreated to what she knew.

I remember laughing. I remember smiling honestly for the first time in months. I remember connecting with these simple characters. I remember feeling understood by this show. I remember waiting for the final episode. And the emptiness I felt as soon as the credits rolled. But that feeling. The song filling my ears. That music, it made me want to try.

Music is powerful. The music in this series is intensely emotional. At least it is for me. I've listened to each song in repeat. Seeing those lyrics, the heavy pounding on drums, the wild strumming of guitar through the 14-song album that whirled through all sorts of emotions. I felt heard by this show. I knew that someone out there, heck tons of people all watching at the same time as me, all knew, and we all understood. The music couldn't have done it on its own. But the show wouldn't be what it is without the music.

It was a simple story. A girl played guitar alone. But by taking a risk and sticking to it, she changed. She didn't magically become an extrovert or cure her anxiety, but she began to learn to love herself. She began to learn new things. She began to gain more confidence in who she was, if only a little.

And I could too.

I need to gush about this series it's so good I have never gone from not knowing what something is to being hyperfixated so incredibly fast.

So Bocchi the Rock right? Yesterday I had no clue this series even existed. By the end of yesterday I had seen a few clips and heard a few people talking before watching one episode of it. Today I binged the other ten episodes and I am OBSESSED. This show had me rolling on the ground with laughter while simultaneously getting me invested in a story that normally I wouldn't find myself enjoying that much. So I'll just start from the beginning I guess this is a slice of life comedy show about social anxiety. I don't think I have to say much on that we all get it but the way it's portrayed here is just beyond words good. The presentation of this show is out of this world. It follows Hitori Gotoh a socially inept girl with a passion for playing guitar. She wants to start a band and get popular but just can't get herself out there. One day she brings her guitar into school hoping to get some attention to little success. However she is noticed by Nijika Ijichi who is just starting the Kessoku band and had her guitarist flake out on her five hours before a concert. Desoerate she drags Hitori along with her to join her band. It's a huge step for Hitori that she is not at all ready for and various shenanigans ensue from there. I could go on but this show is fantastic and I want people to watch it. I personally love how the show ties its drama and comedy together seamlessly. Whenever Hitori is stressed out about something the show goes wild changing up the animation style completely to represent her sudden panic attack which both puts you in her frame of mind and gets you to laugh.

My personal favorite is this one where the animation just rapidly devolves into simple 3d models for all of 4ish seconds while Hitori is hurled through a wall to represent her fear of an upcoming performance. It's something that I think a lot of people can relate to having to present to a ton of people is nerve wracking while also just being incredibly fun to watch and there's a different style change every single time this happens I never know what to expect next and it always catches me off guard and makes me laugh! The show also has an actual plot going for it it isn't all just jokes with no substance these characters develop throughout and they do it quickly enough for a character's growth in the season to be clear. It doesn't take Hitori 20 episodes to overcome every issue she faces. She's just honest and works on herself bit by bit with things coming full circle from the start to the end. It's the small details that really bring everything together here. Little things that keep popping up as the show goes on that develop Hitori and her relationship with her bandmates.

Also the opening song is super good I've been listening to it on repeat for literally like 6 hours.

[kimchikai-sooshi]

The coming July 1st is going to be a real test and would cause mass head/heart/soulaches. Every little detail of that day would be scrutinised. The way some of our fandom is currently high upon reacting to this, I feel that even simple breathing by members would be theorised on that day.

Full June would be a mess on that bird app. That mess would contain demanding ksoo's solo project before enlistment, constantly increasing hate being thrown on SM (which kinda deserves) if no solo project is released soon or at ALL. More the delay in any solo, more bad mouthing against agency, ksoo and other members could be seen, as if calling ksoo selfish, jmyeon a liar are not enough already. I am dreading the negativity but I strongly HOPE that I am wrong.

The way that agency handles things regarding ksoo is so annoyingly shady. Leaving rumour, delaying concert, sudden enlistment, BAEKSANG absence (wtf?), never giving him a proper solo (his voice has been multiple times acknowledged as a top favourite ffs)... frustrating.

I could have never imagined that I would be rather sad when they announce the new concert....

It's not that I am hating his decision of enlistment or the concert. Hell I am so proud him that he is doing his duty as a responsible man and other members are finally getting a proper schedule. But the way that agency handled (rather f*cked up in my eyes) the entire EXO's work timeline straight from the DMUMT comeback is downright STUPID.

Successful AND deserving artists never deserve sh*t like this...

Everyone would be observing how members would behave on that day..esp Ji. How things would go during June and on July 1st would majorly HINT what's up with ksoo, members and agency...

I believe that this enlistment has hardly anything to do with kd but what ji would do in the coming time... that will only decide if kd is really related to the issue or not.

🤞🏻🤞🏻

[jeyramarie]

Mr. & Mrs. Holland- (Mob! Tom Holland x Mob! Reader) part 1

summary: most powerful couple in the country but it’s not Tom you should be fearing.

w/c: 3,033

warning: fluff, kissing, angst? idk, y/n being a badass (yes... that should be a warning)

a/n: the prologue got the greatest feedback, thank you to everyone who read it. i’m so so thankful. since it did so good, here’s part 1!! happy reading everyone 🦋

The sun shined through the curtains, warming up the naked bodies that were tangled in the satin sheets. Tom’s eyes fluttered open, immediately turning his bed to see his wife laying on his chest. He smiled and pushed back a piece of hair that was hanging in front of her face. Waking up next to Y/n was his favorite feeling because to him, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen in his life. He moved a bit to get out of bed making her stir. Her eyes opened softly to look at him and smile. 

“Morning, love.” he said softly leaning in and giving her a peck. 

“Good morning, honey.” she chuckled and bit her lip while smiling widely. Tom stood up from the bed, his butt bare making Y/n giggle. He turned around with a questionable look while she layed back down on her pillow. 

“You have a nice butt.” she giggled making him roll his eyes and make his way towards their walk in closet. 

“Where are you going?” she groaned, sitting up in bed with her back against the headboard. 

“I have a meeting with the boys. Haz told me some things have been going missing on the ports.” 

“What things?” she asked with furrowed eyebrows. 

“That supply we were gonna send to Columbia last week.” He walked out butting up his shirt, then moving to his sleeves rolling them up. 

“But… Tom, that was the biggest supply this month.. we were gonna get a fortune.” Y/n said sitting up straighter. 

“Love, I know that. That’s why I need to find out what’s going on and who did this. I’m gonna be with the boys most of the day. I’ll see later.” Tom leaned down, gave his wife a long kiss and stepped out of the bedroom without uttering another word. Y/n started thinking about a possible plan that would help her husband and the whole company. She quickly got out of bed and went into the shower where her thoughts sort of became clearer. With a towel wrapped around her body she walked into her side of the closet. 

“What the hell am i gonna wear?” she asked herself with her arms crossed over her chest. She scanned her color coded closet and finally chose a short black Prada dress. It was tight around her curves and it had a small slight on the side to show part of her thigh. Y/n put her hair up to show off her collarbone and the diamond earrings Tom had just bought her. She put on her favorite pair of heels and made her way towards the meeting room. Her heels clacked on the marble floors as she strutted to the testosterone filled room. 

She pulled open the dark brown doors making every pair of eyes land on her. Of course, Y/n smirked and began to make her way to her husband, who was sitting at the end of the table with a whiskey in hand and his fingers rubbing his chin deep in thought. When she was half way there, she turned to the bartender. 

“Martin? I'll have my usual.” 

“Dry martini with two olives. Got it, boss.” he nodded and turned to start off her drink while she smiled, turning back to look at Tom. Finally, she stood next to him, making him look up at her. Tom looked back down and stared slowly at her thighs, her hips, the day the dress got extra tight at her waist, her breast that were shaped perfectly to him, her collarbone that he desired to kiss and bite at that very moment and last, but certainly not the least, her beautiful face that made him melt every single time he looked at it. 

“Darling, what are you doing here?” He asked, smirking at his wife who was smiling widely. 

“I thought I could give you some ideas, help you out a bit. What do you guys have so far? That’s if you do want my help, of course.” she said as she crossed her arms quickly looking to her right to see Martin with her drink in hand. 

“Thanks, Martin.” she muttered and took a sip while looking back at Tom. 

“I would love to hear what you have in mind. You know I always need your help, darling.” he smiled putting his hand on her thigh and moving it up and down making Y/n get goose bumps all over her body. 

“I need to know what you guys have first.” she smirked and drank another sip from her strong beverage. Tom looked at her and chuckled, sitting straight. 

“Okay, boys… let’s tell Mrs. Holland what we have, now.” he said, strongly making Y/n feel an undeniable tingly feeling on her covered core. The next 30 minutes were spent discussing the problems and the suspects. Of course, Harrison believed it was someone from the inside spilling out details on the supply’s destination. The only thing they seem to have left is a good hideout place to keep look out. Harrison brought over some files of properties close by to Y/n. She put her glass down and sat on the armrest of Tom’s chair making him put his hand on her hip. 

“You’re planning on buying this?” she asked with a questionable look with her head turned to her husband. 

“Yes, why? Do you not like it?” 

“Is not that i don’t like it.. is that…. they’ll find you before you move in. You have to be somewhere that no one's gonna expect you to be in.” Y/n said while looking at the different properties in front of her. She took the last sip from her martini and stood up, still looking at the papers. She walked around the table in silence, every single man following her with their eyes. 

“I hate this. This… this is… what the fuck are you thinking?” she exclaimed turning around to look at Tom who was looking at her with a straight face, waiting for her to explain herself. 

“You wanna spy on someone who’s probably stealing your shit and you wanna buy a 3 million dollar mansion to do it?” she scoffed and shook her head in disbelief as her husband stood up from his chair and slowly started walking towards Y/n. 

“You have to get a place that no one’s gonna expect. Get an abandoned apartment or something. Somewhere dirty and ugly.” Tom finally stood in front of her and grabbed her waist, pulling her towards him. 

“I love the way you think, darling. I like your idea.” he whispered and leaned in to give her a peck. 

“Of course you do, it’s the right one.” she said smiling which caused him to chuckle. 

“We’ll go with that. Harrison, get everything ready.” 

“If you want something done right, let a woman do it.” she said and grabbed his face to give him a quick kiss. She pulled away and started walking towards the door. 

“I have to go, check on my employees. I’ll call you later, honey.” and with that she left the room leaving every man speechless. Y/n walked to the living room where her driver was playing cards with the maids of the house. 

“Dylan, bring the car around.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” she quickly turned around and walked back to her room to get her purse and of course, her small golden gun. She walked outside towards the car where Dylan was holding the door open. 

“Where to, ma’am?” he asked before Y/n got into the car.

“You know that apartment building close to Le Royal?” 

“Yes.” 

“I need to go there, William is waiting for me.” the man nodded and she got into the car. The ride was silent but she was mostly talking to herself in her head. Thinking of what to say and what to do when she got there. The car came to a stop making her jolt out of her trance. The door opened showing Dylan with a small smile. 

“We’re here, ma’am.” he extended his hand to help Y/n out of the car. 

“Thanks, Dylan. Stay close, please.” 

“Sure thing, ma’am. Good luck in there.” he said, closing the car door. 

“Thank you.” she smiled putting on her Dior sunglasses and walking towards the door.  Y/n walked inside and got to the elevator, going to the last floor. When the doors opened her right hand man, William was waiting for her with a bloody fist. 

“Thanks for the help, William.” 

“Anytime, ma’am.” he nodded and she made her way to the long hallway that led to a wooden door. She opened the door and was met with a man tied to a chair and another chair in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry for the delay but i’m sure my right hand man kept you company. He’s a great conversation starter. I'm sure you guys had fun.” Y/n smiled sitting down on the chair and crossing her legs. The man lifted his head with his sweaty hair falling on his face and the blood coming from his lip, dripping down his chin. 

“Yeah, fun.” 

“Do you know who i am, John?” 

“Yeah.” he scoffed. 

“Okay, do you know what i’m gonna do to you?” the room filled with silence and Y/n chuckled at his nervousness. 

“Of course you don’t. I’ll tell you anyway though.” she said, uncrossing her legs and standing up. Finally in front of the man, she placed her hands on the armrest of the chair leaning in front of him. 

“You mess with my husband, you mess with me and our company. You're not gonna get out of this so easily.” she whispered in a low serious voice making the man’s breath shaky. 

“I’m gonna bash your skull with a metal bat until it has a hole in it. You got that?” the man stayed quiet, scared for his life. Y/n stood back up and smiled. 

“I’ll see you later, Johnny.” she said as she walked out of the room leaving the man screaming out her name over and over again. She walked down the familiar hallway again, getting into the elevator with William. 

“Let’s go, Will.” the elevator door closed, it started moving and then it opened at the 1st floor. Y/n walked out first and then William behind, Dylan was already holding the door open which caused her to smile. 

“Thank you, boys.” she said as she climbed into the back seat. When the door closed her phone ran, it was Tom. 

“Hey, baby.” 

“Hello, love. How’s everything going?” 

“Everything went smoothly. How bout you? Is the plan in motion?” 

“It is. Everything is being handled as we speak.” 

“Great! I have to meet up with some business partners I wanna negotiate with so i’ll get you when i get out okay?” 

“Alright, love. We’ll talk later. I love you.” 

“I love you too, honey.” she smiled and then hung up as the car came to a stop in front of Le Royal. It was a very famous hotel that had it’s very own casino with the same name. Dylan helped her out of the car and she made her way to the entrance with William right behind her. Her heels clacked on the marble floors of the hotel lobby. Everyone stared at her in awe, only people in the business knew who she really was and what she did. They walked to the casino side of the lobby and went up a long glass staircase. It led them to big white doors that led to a small waiting room with the secretary typing quickly on her computer. Y/n walked towards her and stood in front of the counter, making the woman look up from her device. 

“May i help you?” she asked in a bitchy tone which made Y/n go serious and angry. 

“Yes, I have a meeting with Mr. Matthews.” she said coldly, giving the woman a killing look. 

“Go ahead.” 

“Thanks.” she spit out, turning and walking towards the office. Once at the door, she knocked and waited for the man to give her mention to enter. 

“Come in!” screamed the man from inside alerting William to open to the door and letting Y/N walk in first. 

“Y/n Holland, welcome! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” the man smiled as he shook her hand and introduced himself to William after. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Adam. Thank you so much for agreeing to speak with me. I’ve heard nothing but good things about your business.” she said as she sat down in front of his desk and crossed her legs. 

“Same goes to you. You and your husband have left a really big impression on all of us.” 

“Oh, well thank you.” she chuckled as he leaned on his elbows on his desk. 

“So, what kind of business are we talking about?” 

“Oh well. I came here to offer you a deal.” 

“What kind of deal exactly?” he asked leaning back on his chair and crossing his legs. 

“I wanna buy the hotel.” she said seriously, making him laugh dryly and shake his head. 

“I’m not selling, Y/n.” 

“You didn’t let me finish.” he stopped laughing and moved his hand signaling her to continue. 

“I wanna buy so you can be in charge of everything while I'm gone. You’d report back to me or Tom. You’d get 25% of all income.” the room fell silent, Adam kept thinking about every single scenario of what would happen if he accepted. 

“What would I be doing, Y/n?” 

“We wanna use the casino for every exchange and to sell our little things that everyone seems to love. I assure you, Adam, you’re gonna get triple the clientele if they know what you’re gonna have.” he looked at her and scratched his eyebrow, standing up without another word. He made his way towards the glass windows, looking at the city below. Y/n played with her fingers, feeling nervous that maybe he didn’t want to go through with the deal. Even William knew she was nervous. After a few seconds, Adam turned around with his hands in his pockets, looked up and smiled. 

“You have yourself a deal Mrs. Holland.” he said, extending his hand for her to shake. She stood up quickly and grabbed it, shaking it. 

“Thank you so much, Adam. You won’t regret this.” 

“It was a pleasure doing business with you, Y/n. Call me anytime to schedule the first special casino night.” he said putting his other hand over hers. 

“Of course. I’ll call you tonight with my husband to schedule everything. Have a nice day, Mr. Matthews.” she smiled taking her hands out of his grasp and walking towards the door that William opened for her to walk out. They made their way downstairs to the lobby when Y/n came to an immediate stop. 

“Is everything alright, ma’am?” William asked, standing in front of her. 

“I don’t know if you know but I kind of have a sixth sense, Will. I don’t trust that man.” she said rummaging through her purse. 

“What are you gonna do?” 

“I need you to go to the main office of this building and plug this in into one of the computers.” Y/n whispered holding up a small pendrive. 

“While you’re doing that i’ll be having a couple drinks at the bar, just looking around. Checking what I have to work with.” she said looking around. 

“I can’t do that, ma’am. Mr. Holland gave me direct orders to not leave your side.” 

“Well he’s not here right now, William. I won’t rat you out okay? But please, get me that information.” she said turning to him while taking off her glasses and giving him pleading eyes. He sighed and nodded making Y/n squeal. 

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be in the bar, find me when you’re done okay?” 

“Alright.” he said and turned walking towards the back doors of the lobby. 

30 minutes went by when William finally walked out. He turned the corner and saw his boss drinking her martini while looking at the ceiling, the walls, the employees, the bar countertop and the alcohol bottle in front of her. Every detail was important for her, to think of different ways to work with that place. 

“Mrs. Holland.” William said breaking Y/n’s trance. She looked at him and smiled as he held up the pendrive she had given him.

“Is it there?” she asked, getting down from the bar stool. 

“Every last bit, ma’am.” he said, giving it to her. She chuckled and patted him on the chest. 

“Good job, Will. Let’s go home.” Y/n said and walked towards the exit of the hotel where Dylan was already waiting in the car. 

When they arrived at the mansion, Y/n walked straight to her bedroom where Tom was taking a shower. She took off her heels so he wouldn’t hear her walk in, unzipped her dress and tied her hair up, slowly making her way to the bathroom. The shower door was foggy but she could still see her husband’s silhouette. Y/n pushed it open and stepped in quickly. She placed her hand on his back making him jump and quickly turn around. 

“Sorry to scare you.” she whispered, making him sigh in relief. 

“It’s alright, darling.” he said as he grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him. They looked at each other’s eyes for a while until he leaned in and kissed her passionately. She pulled away and leaned her forehead against his. 

“Did you get it?” he whispered, making her smile.

“Yeah, all of it.” she whispered back knowing exactly what he was talking about. Tom chuckled and grabbed her face, pulling her into a long kiss. She wrapped her arms around her neck while he moved his to her waist. Suddenly, he grabbed her ass cheek, moving her against the wall. Both of them feeling content about they’re new multi million dollar deal.

taglist: @ilovefandoms102​ @themaddies-obx​ @guillerminacaba​ @teenwishes08​ @runawayolives

[justasparkwritings]

The Littlest Dumpling {2}

Previous: The Littlest Dumpling {1}

Pairing: Min Yoongi x OFC

Genre: Non Idol AU / Author AU

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Swearing!

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Yoongi’s back from a writing retreat and ready to flirt – er share what he’s written.

Master List

Tag List: @4ksj, @jagiya, @ot7nem, @knjkitten, @teamtardis-notdead​

Tag List

           “The sword will not save you,” Hyunki said, unsheathing the weapon and handing it to the Lil King.

           “Why not?” Lil King Yoongi asked.

           “A sword is just metal, it’s the person who wields it who holds its power.”

           “I am its power?” Lil King asked.

           “Yes, you are.”

           He tried to examin the sword, but the weight was far too heavy for him. “What if I’m not strong enough?”

           “Have you tried?”

           “No,” He muttered, staring at the engraving on the handle. His name in Korean, branded into the hilt. It had been made for him, and only him.

           “Then you’ll never know,” Hyunki told him.

           Lil King Yoongi Volume 1

June

           “Mr. Min, she’s ready for you now,” Alexis stands in front of him, waiting for him to glance up at her through his lashes. He hates coming back to a place after a long time away, the weird sense of familiarity mixed with dread. Like going back to school after summer break, something he had dreaded in his later teen years. Alexis guides him to your office with the clear ease of someone who comes to this place every single day, and does this action over and over and over again.

           “Great,” Yoongi mutters as he shuffles his feet, one after the other towards your office. It looks exactly the same as it did the last time he was here, two months ago, the last time he saw you. He immediately had a freak out over Seokjin, and Janie sent him on a writing retreat for four weeks. Big Sur, was a little too… outdoors for him, but the alternative option was Ojai and what would he do there? Look at grapes shrivel before being barreled and turned into wine? No thank you. The fresh air and the mountains… had worked and he had what he considered the first draft and a shit ton of notes for book one of The Littlest Dumpling.

           “Yoongi!” You say cheerily. You smile broadly at him. “Welcome back.”

           “Yeah, thanks.”

           “Have a seat. Alexis, can you bring us some water and lemonade?”

           “Sure thing,” She says and disappears.

           “So, how was your writing retreat?”

           “If I said unsuccessful, would I be released from my contract?”

           You exhale cautiously. “Yoongi, did you write something?”

           “Yeah, but I think it’s total shit.”

           “Have you sent it to Seokjin?” You ask.

           “No, he’s going to tell me it’s utter shit.” Yoongi crosses his arms, an action Jane would tell him closes him off to opportunity and good energy.

           “Maybe, but he’s your editor, and that’s his job.”

           “I wrote a lot, probably too much for a picture book. This isn’t The Berenstein Bears,” He hoped you’d like his little joke, but you didn’t seem to care for it as you moved quickly past it.

           “It could be. Who’s to say it isn’t?” You say.

           “I - that would be insane.”

           “No it wouldn’t. Your books could be geared towards 1st and 2nd graders, but we all know kids up until 5th grade love to read picture books. We want to get them hooked so after they devour all The Littlest Dumpling, they go for Lil King Yoongi, and whatever your next project is. It’s all a part of it, Yoongi. The worlds you’re creating.”

           “That’s horrifying.”

           “It’s deeply overwhelming, isn’t it?”

           “Yes.”

           “My request is that you send your draft to Seokjin. Just ask him if there’s anything worth keeping, or if he thinks you’re on the right track.”

           “Seokjin wouldn’t know what track I was on if he was setting the pace.”

          “You don’t know that. Besides, whatever happened between you is in the past.”

          “Is it though?” Yoongi asks.

          “I hope so, I asked him to stop by today.”

          “What?” Yoongi is both blindsided and enraged.

          “Yep, ah, Alexis will you bring a third glass and extra chair for Mr. Kim?”

          “Certainly, and then I’ll bring him back,” Alexis has dyed her hair platinum blonde, gone are the pinks in favor of this striking look.

          “Why?” Yoongi asks turning to face you. You feel kind of bad, misleading him like this.

          “You aren’t going to email him unless you see him and talk to him. Yoongi, this is such an important relationship. You have to rebuild your trust with him.”

          “I do not!”

          “You do, and it’s crucial to your success here at Serendipity to work with your editor. Plus he’s emailed you twice a week for two months and you have sent him the same automated message, which is incredibly unprofessional.”

          Yoongi’s about to protest when Alexis walks in with another chair, then another glass and finally, Seokjin Kim.

          “Y/N! It’s been too long,” Jin says hugging you.

          “It’s been two days,” You say smiling at him. “Jin, you know Yoongi.”

          “Yoongi Min, Min Yoongi, my, my, my, good to see you,” Jin says. He extends his oversized hand and shakes Yoongi’s.

          “Yeah, sure,” Yoongi responds.

          “My mom is looking forward to dinner at your parents house this weekend,” Jin sits and pulls a notepad out of his bag and clicks his pen before glancing at Yoongi.

          Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Do you make it a point of pride to know what your parents are doing every day?”

          “I speak to them regularly, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jin replies.

          “You’re a kiss ass.”

          “Oh, have I already made you jealous with my healthy relationship with my parents?” Jin laughs.

          “Fuck off.”

          “Gentlemen!” You interject, silencing them. “Shut up, and listen.”

          Yoongi, already seated, crosses and uncrosses his legs. Seokjin sits up

          “I’m not privy to whatever anger and grade school pettiness you’re both still harboring. But, I need you two to work together. You both signed contracts, you both agreed. The fact that I’m getting complaints from HR already, is absolutely unacceptable,” Your voice was clear and commanding, striking both of them in their chairs.

          “Sorry,” Jin mutters.

          “I’m sorry - that’s so embarrassing,” Yoongi’s apology is felt deeper within you, his soft eyes torn with hatred and sorrow. He hadn’t meant to fuck up enough that you had to scold them, they’re not children. But here he was, pissing you off. Jane was going to be even more mad. She’d rant about him jeopardizing his career by acting like an asshole. All he really wanted to do was piss Seokjin off a little… not get complaints from HR.

          “Yoongi’s just come back from a writing retreat and has pages for you to look over Seokjin,” You continue.

          “Oh, so there are pages?” Jin glances sideways at Yoongi.

          “Fuck. Off.”

          “Yoongi,” You scold.

          “Yeah, Yoongs. Be nicer.”

          “The point is, Yoongi has pages, first draft pages that he is ready to share. Jin, are you ready to edit them?” Your glance makes it clear, it isn’t a question.

          “Absolutely,” Jin says recovering his composure and professionalism. “I look forward to reading them.”

          “How long will it take?” Yoongi asks, refusing to look at the face he’s had memorized since childhood.

          “My initial notes? Or me to read them?” Jin chuckles.

          “Both.”

          “It’s Tuesday? Give me until Friday. Then you can let my comments ruin your weekend,” Jin teases.

          “You’re the actual worst,” Yoongi mutters.

          “I trust that your comments will be helpful and not in fact ruin Yoongi’s weekend.” You tell them both. “And if I have to referee another one of these conversations you both will owe me royalties under the table.”

          “Fine,” Yoongi grumbles.

          “That’s fair,” Seokjin says. “And with that, I am off to put in my last notes for another project. Yoongi, I look forward to reading your first draft. I’m sure there is greatness in there.”

          Yoongi doesn’t say anything but stares ahead at the bookshelves. He notices a Morrison, a Rowling, a Steinbeck. Classics between old Judy Moody’s and the entirety of the Junie B Jones series. Numerous copies of The Chronicles of Narnia, but not one copy of book 7.

          “Thanks, Jin,” You smile warmly at him and watch as he exits your office. “So, you gonna tell me what that was about?”

          “I told you, I don’t trust him and I don’t like him.”

          You sip your lemonade slowly, thinking through it. “Tell me, how did you two meet?”

          “Seokjin and me?”

          “No, you and Alexis.”

          Yoongi rolls his eyes, an expression of his annoyance but one you’re beginning to find kind of cute and charming. Like his scowl, or the strained look his irises get when he’s pained.

          “Our parents are friends, our moms got pregnant around the same time with us. We’re both the youngest of two sons, and our brothers played in similar sports leagues. We went to regular school together, and then Korean school on the weekends. We became best friends.”

          “Can I guess what happened?” You ask.

          “Sure.”

          “He wanted to be popular and cool, which meant dropping you,” You guess.

          “Something like that,” Yoongi agrees.

          “I’m sorry Yoongi,” You tell him. “I know that doesn’t mean much, but I am.”

          “Yeah, I wish he was.”

          In your years working with Seokjin, him apologizing for being a pompous asshole had never happened because, frankly, you’d never seen him behave the way he just did. He was beloved by his coworkers, adored by his bosses. Seokjin radiated positivity and was the funniest guy in the office. He was a delight to work with, and the need to scold and reprimand him came from whatever Yoongi brought out in him. Clearly their mutual hatred, or the effect they have on each other goes both ways.

          “If it makes you feel better, he might be the least liked person in the office.”

          “Because he’s an asshole?” Yoongi asks hopefully.

          “He’s charming, and has that face, and is kind to everyone. Not to mention his work.” You really wanted to lie for him. “I’m sorry, he’s really great.”

          Yoongi sinks, crestfallen. “So he continues to be perfect while I exist to be a failure.”

          “You’re not a failure.”

          “You hardly know me, who’s to say I won’t disappoint you next?” Yoongi asks.

          “Is that what you really think?” You wonder, eyes hardening as your chest tightens. He keeps leaving these little crumbs, crumbs of these hurtful beliefs and ideas he has about himself.

          “I become insufferable when I write. Just ask Janie.”

         ”You call her Janie?”

         “Yeah?”

         Your smile grows. “That’s sweet.”

         “I guess.”

         “She’s a great agent, everyone I know who works with her loves her.” You say.

         “She is. She’s always believed in me.”

         “Good, now believe in yourself.”

         “You say that like I have the key to enlightenment and self love within me. I do not, Y/N, possess such skills.”

         “How would you know? You don’t seem to have tried.”

         “That’s fair,” Yoongi agrees. “You know, Janie always tells me she’s kept me around for my unwavering disposition and penchant for snark and self doubt.”

         “You make it sound like she likes you because you’re fragile.”

         “Isn’t that a Sara Bareilles lyric?”

         “It is! I didn’t even realize I did that. I must be off my game.”

         “It’s okay, I’m sure we all quote lyrics without realizing where they’re from,” Yoongi says.

         “The point is,” You say remembering where you were trying to steer the conversation. “Your self doubt has pushed your work to be better. Maybe you need to learn to trust yourself like you’re learning to trust Seokjin.”

         “Did you just - call back while getting me to be introspective?” Yoongi’s surprise is disarming.

         “Um, yes?”

         “Wow, you’re good.”

         “Thank you. That’s why they pay me so much,” You say.

         “Is it?”

         “And I’m really fucking good at the other aspects of my job.”

         “Such as?”

         “Making money, getting our authors and editors to work together successfully. Bringing in big gets and new projects that go the distance. Plus I have extremely high executive functioning skills.” You tell him.

         “You’ve got it all.”

         “And if you asked my aunts, it would be all those things that have prohibited me from having a significant other. But that’s an after work conversation,” You are quick to cover your error. You do not know Yoongi like that, not in the way you know Seokjin, or Jungkook and Jimin.

         “Oh, I’ve got stories for days about my disappointing love life,” Yoongi offers. A little vulnerability, to be shared with you.

         “I would love to hear about those. Maybe we’ll take one of these meetings at 5 o’clock.”

         “That would be, fun?” Yoongi’s voice tilts upwards at the end of hi sentence.

         “Say it like it’s not a root canal please.”

         “That would be fun!” Yoongi allowed his hands to shoot in the air, shimmying a little.

         “Okay, too much. How about our next meeting, next month?”

         “You want to meet with me monthly?” Yoongi asks.

         “I trust Jin to keep you in line.”

         “It’s because he’s three months older than me, isn’t it?”

         You tilt your head to the side, curiously. “Is he?”

         “Yes, he is. Made me call him hyung all of Korean school.”

         “Ah, a lovely honorific.”

         “It’s three fucking months!”

         “It’s a lot of time Yoongi! It’s an entire year shift.”

         “So?”

         “So, he’s your hyung and frankly, you are mine.” You tell him.

         “No way!”

         “You think I’m old?”

         “No, aren’t we, are we not like the same age?”

         “You are older than me by what, five months?”

         “Wow, your hyung,” Yoongi says, wide eyed. “That’s super weird.”

         “Why? Wanted to call me noona?” You laugh.

         “Janie hates when I call her that.”

         “So naturally you do it all the time?”

         He nods. “Only when she’s particularly prickly, then I love to just turn the screw a little tighter.”

         “Oh, so kind of you.”

         “It really is, shows her how much I care,” His smile is broad and warm, so inviting. And cute.

         “The restraint alone. She’s lucky to have you.”

         “She is.”

         A knock befalls the door, and Alexis’s platinum blonde head pokes through. “Your next meeting is here. And um, a certain someone has called and left you           a message.”

         Yoongi glances from Alexis to you, and watches in real time how quickly your face falls. He hates it, the sadness in your eyes.

         “Great, we’re just wrapping up.”

         “Okay, after Mr. Min leaves, I’ll give you five minutes before I bring them back.” Alexis doesn’t wait for a response but turns on her heels and leaves.

         “I’ve been here far too long,” Yoongi stands and slips his jacket on.

         “No, it was all good. We were productive.”

         “Were we?”

         “We were. Swear.”

         “I’ll see you, next month?”

         “Yeah, I’ll send you a calendar invite, and we’ll pick a bar?” You ask.

         “Have you been to the Ruby Poppy?” Yoongi asks. It’s one of two bars he knows around here, the other is more of a dive and doesn’t seem to be your type of place. Though he doesn’t really know what your type of place is.

         “I do, they have a great tequila and blackberry cocktail that’s always available during happy hour.”

         “Sounds like we’ve picked a place,” Yoongi pauses at your door. “I’ll see you soon.”

         “Yeah, looking forward to it.”

          Sitting down at his computer, Yoongi begins to type and transcribe his notes. He hand wrote everything in Big Sur, like he always did, in a new notebook he’d picked out specifically for this project. His notes, and the first draft, aren’t totally shit. He’s sure there’s a narrative in here, but where? He doesn’t know.

Maybe Jin will be the answer.

Subject: The Littlest Dumpling Draft 1 and Notes

From: Yoongi Min

Jin -

Here’s the first draft and my notes. I know there’s something here, but I can’t tell where. Or what. Or if it actually is there at all.

Thanks,

           Yoongi

          He sends it off and groans loudly as his phone rings.

          “Hey,” Namjoon says.

          “Hey,” Yoongi responds.

          “Why are you so miserable?” He asks.

          “I just sent my shitty first draft and notes to Seokjin to edit and review.”

          “Oh fuck, you’re nervous?”

          “Terrified.”

          “I’m sure it’s fine - hey do you want to come over and have drinks with me and Hoseok?”

          “Yeah, lots and lots of alcohol.”

           “I don’t understand why you have to work with him,” Hoseok says, sipping his chardonnay and bouncing his foot up and down.

           “He’s the best of the best, apparently. According to both Janie and Y/N, my publisher.”

           “Janie?” Namjoon asks. “What about Jane?”

           “Do you always have to ask after her?” Yoongi asks.

           “It’s like he’s a dog, every time her name is said he reacts.”

           “Pavlov, it was Pavlov’s dog,” Namjoon informs.

           “Yes, a Pavlovian response. Every single time, Jane, where?” Hoseok acts out Namjoon’s dog like reaction and Yoongi laughs, because it’s true.

           “You have a crush, just ask her out,” Yoongi instructs.

           “I hear your new publisher is quite –

           “Intelligent?” Hoseok offers.

           “Charismatic?” Yoongi says.

           “Beautiful,” Namjoon tells them. “At least that’s the rumor.”

           “Why are you asking if you already know or have an opinion on it?” Yoongi wonders.      

           “Do you have a crush on her?” Hoseok asks.

           “Thank you,” Namjoon says. “I didn’t want to come right out and ask, but fuck I want to know. Are you into her?”

           “You heard Hoseok describe her, she’s pretty fucking cool. She’s lent me a few books to read too,” Yoongi answers. It isn’t the tea Namjoon was hoping for, but it is better.

           “So, she’s flirting with you?” Hoseok asks. “Are you serious?”

           “Oh my god, Yoongi! It’s all you’ve ever dreamed of!” Namjoon cheers.

           “How so?” He asks Namjoon.

           “She’s gorgeous, she’s intelligent, and she is into you.”

           “Or, she’s gorgeous, she’s intelligent, and she wants me to feel at home at a new publishing house and is supporting me through the transition.”

           “I think Namjoon’s right,” Hoseok says.

           “Thank you!”

           Yoongi rolls his eyes and tucks a stray hair behind his ear. His mini mullet is growing in swimmingly. “I can’t believe you two.”

           “Yes, you can, Namjoon is thirsty as hell, and I’m well, sex negative,” Hoseok shrugs.

           “Sex negative?” Namjoon asks.

           Hoseok takes another swig of wine. “Yes, I’m not opposed to sex, but I’m not interested in talking about it or actively seeking it out.”

           “Why not?”

           “Yeah, tell me more. Am I sex negative?” Yoongi wonders.

           “I can have sex whenever I want, but I’m not thinking about it constantly or looking at people wondering how good they are in bed, like Joon is with Jane.”

           “I don’t want to fuck Jane!” Namjoon exclaims.

           “Yes, you do,” Yoongi says. “You have for years and you’re too chicken shit to do anything about it.”

           “I’m not chicken shit! I’m respectful of her.”

           “Because she’s older?” Yoongi asks.

           “She’s your manager Yoongi! She can break any of our careers.”

           Hoseok is worried. “You think she’ll come for me?”

           “Hoseok, she knows everyone and can ruin anyone she wants.”

           “It’s why she’s so hot,” Namjoon adds.

           “That’s why we think you want to fuck her,” Yoongi points out.

           “I’m a data scientist, how could she ruin that?” Hoseok asks, still stuck on the idea that his career could be decimated by merely associating with Yoongi and Namjoon.

           “Do you really want to know?”

           “No, I don’t.”

           “So you’re sex negative, but aren’t you seeing somebody?”

           “I’m not asexual, or aromantic. I just don’t need to talk about it.” Hoseok reiterates.

           “Which is fair, I might be sex negative too,” Yoongi says.

           “I’m definitely sex positive,” Namjoon boasts.

           “We know,” Hoseok and Yoongi say.

           “Yoongi, what are you going to do about Y/N?” Namjoon asks.

           “I don’t know, keep my head down. My bigger issue is dealing with Seokjin.”

           “I don’t understand why he’s such an asshole.”  

           “That’s the thing!” Yoongi feels himself heating up. “He apparently is just an asshole to me, and according to Y/N, she’s never seen him behave like he did in our meeting before.”

           “You bring out the worst in him.”

           “He brings out the worst in me.”

           “She only knows him as nice? Do you think there’s a possibility –

           “Don’t,” Hoseok asks, eyes wide and pleading with Namjoon not to take Yoongi down the rabbit hole.

           “Don’t what?” Yoongi sips his wine and glances between them. “Oh, just say it.”

           “Do you think they dated?” Namjoon asks.

           “Oh fuck off,” Yoongi says, slumping back across the couch. “Fuck. Off. No way! There’s no way!”

           “I don’t know, if she’s only seen the nice side of him…. Maybe they’ve knocked boots,” Namjoon says.

           “I hate you,” Yoongi tells him.

           “I don’t think they’ve had sex,” Hoseok says. “I think they’re coworkers and Y/N happens to be a gracious and kind boss.”

           “You say that like you know her,” Namjoon teases.

           “I don’t, no idea what she looks like. But that’s what it sounds like. She’s doing the most to make Yoongi comfortable, but you’re putting her in a tough position. She has to be your boss, but you don’t have to be a monster.”

           “I’m not a monster, just when Jin’s around.”

           “Right, but he’s never not going to be around if you stay at that publishing house, he’s always going to be there. You’re going to be working with him, what can you do to not turn into a little shit whenever he’s around?” Hoseok asks.

           Yoongi’s often wondered what he’d do if he was in this position, forced to work with Seokjin after all they’ve gone through. He’s never found a solution, or an answer to it. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or how he’s supposed to act. Because years later, Seokjin has never apologized. He’s never fessed up to what he did, how he betrayed Yoongi, how he abandoned him for popularity and sex. Okay, Yoongi just assumes there was sex being had in high school. But he’s never said he was sorry and asked for forgiveness, he’s just existed without a second thought to how he behaved hurt Yoongi.

           “I don’t know,” Yoongi says.

           “Well,” Namjoon sighs. “You should figure it out.”

           “Jane!” You say, standing from your table at DanBam Coffee & Roastery to hug the familiar face.

           “Y/N!” Jane says in response. She takes the hug and sits across from you, pleasant smile on her lips.

           “How are you?”

           “Oh you know, people need extensions on their contracts, writers get writers block, some need to be sent away to figure their shit out…”

           “Are you just talking about Mr. Min or?” You ask.

           “Oh, no, not him. Besides sending him away on a retreat, that was necessary.”

           “I didn’t know the whole Seokjin thing would push him that far.”

           “He just… Yoongi still feels the effect of whatever happened between them, and he’s got to grow up and move on.”

           “What if he can’t?”

           “Let me worry about that,” Jane says. “How has it been, working with him?”

           “He’s,” You pause, thinking about how to appropriately describe Yoongi. “Prickly, but also so very soft. An anemone in human form.”

           “That’s a far nicer description of him than I’d offer,” Jane comments.

           “Really? Why?”

           “Yoongi is great, a basket case, but one of the best children’s authors around. He’s cynical and sharp, and don’t tell him, but he’s my favorite fucking client.”

           “Is he really?”

           “He is. He always has been. If only he’d believe it just a little bit.”

           “He really doesn’t see how great he is, does he?”

           “Absolutely not. Has no sense that he’s incredible.”

           “How do we get him there?”

           “If I knew the answer, I would’ve done it during his first edits. I’ve got to say,” Jane hesitates. “Putting him with Seokjin is the biggest clusterfuck he’s gone through.”

           “Really? He’s only alluded to their past, but I don’t have a great sense of what happened.”

           “It’s, pretty bad. Jin’s never apologized, never said anything close to sorry.”

           “They’re childhood friends, right?”

           “They are,”

           “Interesting.”

           “You like him,” Jane guesses.

           “I do?”

           “Yeah, you let him borrow your books.”

           You laugh. “Is that how publishers show their affection? Did I miss it?”

           “I don’t know if others do, but that’s how you show it. Didn’t you let Taehyung borrow books?”

           “After his tongue had been in my mouth,” You answer.

           “Okay, fair.”

           “Taehyung is totally different, he and I were, not a mistake, but a weird detour that was damaging to both of our careers,” You say.  

           “You came out on top though, so did he.”

           “Yes, but that doesn’t mean what we did was right.”  

           Jane nods and offers a counter point. “It was right for you at the time.”

           “That’s true. But Yoongi is,” You begin.

           “Different.”

           “I’m not naive enough to start something with one of my author’s, at least not when they’re still working on a draft and are contractually obligated to submit work to me. I would never, again. I would never do it again,” You clarify.  

           The relationship between you and Taehyung had begun as a secret affair during the editing of his first book. It had been a mutual attraction, and a sworn secret you both vowed to keep. But, office romances are rarely kept hidden and you were discovered kissing at the work holiday party under the mistletoe, mistletoe that Taehyung had put up specifically to kiss you under. That had sparked the gossip, and soon everyone knew that you and Taehyung were an item. Which was unethical as you were his editor, but what made it worse was the very public relationship it ended between Taehyung and his other girlfriend, whom you didn’t know existed. That is, until it was splashed across Page Six, and it became clear you were the other woman. It sparked Taehyung’s next novel, which was about the psychological warfare of dating and loving two different women and trying to discern who would be the best mother to his future hypothetical children. It was a best seller and stayed at number 1 for ten weeks. You, having worked with him on his previous book, were given first editing rights of this book. Which you took, and thanks to it, was offered a position at Serendipity.

           Jane was right, you had come out of an impossible situation totally on top… but at what cost? Your relationship, which you thought was leading you towards love, had crumbled, and your career nearly went with it. The snickers and back handed comments hadn’t fully stopped, either, which made certain public outings unbearable. You wanted it to be in the past, particularly as you were finding yourself staring into Yoongi’s eyes more and more frequently… but it also begs the question, does Yoongi know? Does he know about your past indiscretion, and if he does, does he care? He isn’t just another author, if he was you wouldn’t have fought so hard to have his newest project as a part of your publishing house.

           “But you like Yoongi.” Jane says.

           “He’s special and I can see it so clearly.”

           “Good, I think you two would be so fucking cute together, and it would take the heat off of me.” Jane sips her tea and remains coy.

           “Heat? What heat Is he putting on you?” You ask curiously.

           “I’m seeing someone –

           “Congrats.”

           “Thanks? I’m seeing someone, but I won’t tell Yoongi who it is, and it’s driving him absolutely insane.”

           “Why won’t you tell him?” You ask.

           Jane tries to dismiss it. “Because it’ll just be messy, and the last thing I want is for my relationship with this new guy to deter my working relationship, and friendship with Yoongi.”

           “Will it?”

           “It might.”

           “So, you’re keeping a secret that he knows exists, from him?” You question.

           “Yes.”

           “Huh, doesn’t that get tiring?”

           “It does, particularly when he’s so fucking persistent about knowing.”

           “But you won’t tell him?”

           “Not yet,” Jane answers.

           “Hasn’t he known about your other relationships?”

           “Do you mean the one with women and non-binary people? Of course, he’s met several of them. But this is different and that’s why I won’t tell him.”

           “Either you’re in love or it’s someone he’ll be shocked to know you’re with,” You decide, deciphering her vague language.  

           “Correct.”

           “Are you dating Seokjin?” You ask, eyebrows raising. “That would put him over the edge.”

           “No, no, I’m not dating Seokjin. Could you imagine? I’d devour him whole.”

           “I’d love to see you try,” You laugh. “He could use a strong woman in his romantic life.”

           “I do fear that Yoongi will wonder, based on your interactions, if you and Seokjin have dated.”

           “If Jin and me? Oh, absolutely not. He’s an editor and also, if dating Taehyung was bad, dating Jin would be worse.”

           “Where would Yoongi fall?”

           “Oh, that could be career ruining if it’s not handled properly. Decimating, and there would be no positive spin or way out of it like with Taehyung.” You answer.

           “So, what will you do?”

           “Keep my distance, for as long as I can.”

           “What if you can’t?”

           You laugh. “Jane, the question isn’t what will happen if I can’t keep it to myself. The question is, what if I can?”

Next: The Littlest Dumpling {3}