#IT ALSO KEPT CRASHING MY FUCKING SITE
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pulchrasilva · 2 years ago
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Oh my god. Thank fuck for my dreams' inability to fit real life details into them because that was horrible. I was real scared for a minute
#had a dream that. i had a meet up with all my friends and all my online friends#and also gill and jay for some reason#i think it was someone's birthday#and it was great i got to meet everyone and introduce friends who didnt know each other and muck around with people#and then as we were leaving. my whole family was waiting in the car except my mum#and when she arrived she said she'd gotten into a car crash (for some reason we had 2 cars) and literally everyone had died#and then i fucking. went to school?? and walked in like nothing happened???#*pokes my brain* hey dude what the fuck#thankfully. i have never gone to school in a classroom that looks like that. that teacher moved away 3 months ago.#im not in a class with jay ferin (unfortunately)#oh yeah because i walked in anc they were doing the register and tye teacher was like 'hey lucky do you know where jay is' and i was like#'um. i think she's dead' and immediately broke down crying. slapping my dream self why would you gi to school???#anyway. back to things that were wrong with the dream#we dont own 2 cars#i am not friends with gillion tidestrider either#there was a computer screen in the old historic site which. no that doesnt make sense#there were crisps that for some reason had the details of ashe winters' appearance and location on them. and we were looking for her. but#but we kept eating the crisps like we didnt care about the writing on them. which is obviously insane#i dont sit next to that guy in class and obviously my parents wouldnt let me go to school if all my friends had just died#my mum seemed entirely unconcerned about the fact she'd killed all my friends. i was suspecting she was lying actually but i didnt check#but like again. my mother would not pretend to have killed everyone i know#i wouldnt plan a huge meet up day wjth friends at a place far away i need to drive to it anf have never been before#if i needed to go to school immediately after anyway#i havent been in school for over a month now anyway#it's just all round not real. great.#ok im good now but yhat was fucked. up. what the fuck#vent post#death mention#car crash
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undressrehearsal · 7 months ago
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a bite of luxury
part 1
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summary: you decide to look for a sugar mommy and stumble across this strange girl that seems to have more to hide
tags: sugarmommy!ellie, rich!ellie, vampire!ellie (yep, we got it all) alcohol, reader is poor lmao, reader uses she/her and is referred to as a girl once or twice, no smut in this one sorry gotta establish the world first
word count: ~8k
a/n: it's been so long since i posted a fic lol working full time and trying to finish my book is killing my schedule BUT i hope y'all like this this was my fiancee's idea and i'm running with it i got a LOT of plans for this one - plans i think y'all are gonna love
also the drawing in the cover is made by @nramv seriously go check out their work they're so talented!!
if you wanna be added to my tag list just lmk!
part 2
You hadn’t been searching for a sugar mommy. 
Truthfully, when your best friend had sent you the link, you had dismissed it immediately. She had been joking about it for months, talking about how much easier it would be if you just found a nice older woman to take care of you. You hadn’t even opened the link - you only rolled your eyes, replied with a middle finger emoji, and left it at that. 
And yet things kept piling up. The stack of bills on your kitchen counter was growing to a concerning height, a mountain of unanswered responsibilities that was getting harder to ignore. Your landlord kept calling you - you no longer answered, just watched the phone ring until it finally stopped and ignored the increasingly angrier voicemails. Your apartment was an absolute disaster; you could never be bothered to clean it, because by the time you got home from working both of your jobs, you only had enough energy to eat a bowl of leftovers and promptly pass out in bed. 
The link kept popping up in your mind, each bill in your mailbox a gentle reminder. You found yourself scrolling all the way up the text chain to find it again during sleepless nights. So many times you would only stare at it, your thumb hovering over the blue letters, before you closed the chat and threw your phone down. 
It was stupid, of course. But as time went on, the idea of letting yourself get buried alive under a mountain of debt - of getting evicted from your apartment and having to crash on your friend’s couch - seemed all the more stupid. 
So, late on a Thursday night, after you had had another anxiety attack staring down at your bank account, you went back up the text chain, and you clicked the link. 
www.seeking.com
It didn't take long for the messages to start coming in. You should have been flattered, honestly - you had at least a handful of people in your messages practically begging you for the honor of paying your fucking rent - but you really just felt like you were playing a part that you hadn't even read the script for. You had curated your profile with all the things that made you appear more cultured than you actually were: going to museums and pondering over Baroque art and reading poetry over a pretentious cup of coffee. Sure, these were all things you had done - you had photo proof, after all - but somehow you didn't recognize yourself. It felt like you were looking at pictures of a stranger living a life you wanted but couldn't reach. 
Most people were fine - charming, even. You got maybe one or two that felt like they would lure you into their sex dungeon to murder you, but that was expected with any dating site. You even went on a few dates, scrounging up the nicest dress you owned and getting pampered at a five-star restaurant or going for a ride on an older woman’s personal yacht. One person even took you for a helicopter ride, which was fun but she was a little too handsy on the first date to warrant a second. 
One name kept popping up though, a name that was becoming far too familiar in your notifications. 
ellie: meet me at 8 <3 
When she first messaged you, you had thought she was like you: somebody searching for a partner to pay their bills. Her pictures didn't exactly scream sugar mommy material. Her first picture was just a normal selfie taken outside; she wore a worn out leather jacket, her short hair tangled from the wind and green eyes squinting in the sunlight. She had stupid pictures of mushrooms and candid shots of her browsing a science museum, looking far too excited in front of a t-rex skeleton. Hell, in most of her pictures she looked like she was wearing clothes she had found at a thrift store.
You had thought she was like you, until she sent you a picture inside her fucking Rolls-Royce. 
“Fuck,” you audibly cursed into the quiet of your room. You had been talking for a few days, and she had begun to do that - sending you small selfies throughout the day. In the last one, she had taken a picture in front of the mirror at the gym, flicking off the camera, her lean muscles glistening with sweat. Before that, it had been a blurry picture of her dog, Riley - a huge German Shephard - splayed on her back at a park, leaves stuck in her fur. 
So, yeah, when you found out Ellie was not only rich, but rich enough to casually have a Royce, you were more than a little surprised. 
The selfie was cute, you couldn’t deny that. Her hair was wind-swept, catching in those long ass eyelashes. Ellie’s nose was scrunched up, freckles popping against her cheeks, holding up a peace sign. 
She was fucking adorable and you already knew it. But seeing her worn out leather jacket and messy hair against black and white leather seats that looked like they, alone, cost more than your entire apartment complex combined - it was a little jarring. 
And when she asked you out on a date soon after - after finding out she wasn’t Iike you but rather searching for someone like you - how could you say no? 
Ellie offered to pick you up - like a gentleman, she had said - but frankly, you weren’t quite convinced yet that she wasn’t some blood-thirsty pervert trying to lure you into her dungeon, so you politely declined. Instead, in your nicest dress and heels you hardly wore because they pinched your toes, you called an Uber. 
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You had never been to this side of town. You had plugged in the address Ellie gave you - had double and triple checked it while your awkwardly chatty Uber driver tried asking you about what you do for a living - but the streets here were so unfamiliar you may as well have been in another city. You looked at the foreign buildings rising up around you, large windows giving you a glimpse of the life inside them. People were sitting outside in the chilly air, laughing over wine and dinner. Looking at them - with perfectly sculpted hair and clothes you would have to spend several entire paychecks on - you felt like a cheap impersonator dressed up in a costume. 
The Uber pulled up in front of a hotel, and your heart stopped. Surely, this wasn’t where Ellie had sent you - leading you to some fucking hotel room when you hadn’t even met yet? 
You turned to the driver, your home address at the edge of your tongue, when the car door opened. 
You had practically been leaning against the door to peer out the window, and nearly lost your balance when it was suddenly gone without warning. You looked up, ready to yell at whatever pretentious prick in Prada was trying to fuck with you - but your voice died in your throat. 
Ellie was shorter than you thought she'd be, honestly. In all her pictures, she had this commanding energy, like she would tower over you in person. 
Which, to be fair, she was. She had her arm propped on the doorframe above your head, leaning over so she could meet your eyes. Her hair was pushed back from her face, a few stray strands falling over her forehead, and she was looking at you with an intensity that hadn't quite translated through her pictures.
Ellie smiled - that adorably crooked smile you had seen in all her selfies - and said, “Hi.” 
And the only word you were able to get your mouth to form was, “Fuck.” 
Ellie blinked at you for a moment - long enough that you could feel the flush creeping up your neck and were ready to walk home if you had to - before she finally laughed. That wasn’t like what you had expected either; she had this deep, rough laugh, almost like she was trying to hold it in. 
She looked up at you through her lashes - you tried to ignore the way your heart inexplicably skipped - and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment?” Her voice tilted up at the end like it was a question. Ellie ducked her head down further, looking past you to meet the driver’s eyes, and pulled cash from her back pocket. With her most charming smile, she handed it to the driver and said, “Thanks for getting her here safe.” 
You didn’t see how much money she gave him, but after she took your hand and guided you out of the car, you turned back just in time to see his grin before he sped off. 
“Thanks for coming out.” You looked back at Ellie and found yourself speechless once again. (You, thankfully, were able to hold in the expletive this time.) The worn out jacket that had featured in just about all of her pictures was missing, replaced instead by a pristine, white satin shirt, the top few buttons undone to expose a sliver of collarbone and a gold chain beneath. Despite the chill in the air, she had a classy black jacket hanging from her arm as though it were an accessory. Ellie smiled and looked down, licking her lips before saying, “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes.”
You tried to smile at her but found that your eyes kept flitting behind her, looking at the looming monstrosity of the hotel. It was a nice hotel - the kind that had a huge fountain right in front of it and a chandelier in the lobby that sparkled through the window - but it was a hotel nonetheless. Despite the set in your jaw, traitorous tears stung the corners of your eyes; you wanted to kick yourself for actually thinking that Ellie might be different. 
Ellie followed your gaze over her shoulder, her smile dropping, before she quickly turned back to you with panic in her eyes. She stumbled over her words as though her tongue weren’t cooperating: “Shit, I’m sorry, this looks really bad doesn't it?” She grimaced and squeezed your hand she was still holding, scratching awkwardly at the back of her head with the other. “Fuck, this isn’t the first impression I wanted. I could promise it's not what it looks like, but maybe it'd be better if I just showed you?”
You honestly did think about telling her to fuck off. She was a complete fucking stranger that you only really knew from a dating app, and she was trying to lure you into a hotel in a part of town you were unfamiliar with - really, only an idiot would follow her. 
But she was looking at you with wide green eyes, the lights around you shining back like stars. While searching for the constellations, you found yourself saying, “Okay.” You blinked, pulled from a trance, and added, “But you should know, I do have a taser in my bag.” 
That pulled a shocked laugh from Ellie’s lips. She gently tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the door, and said, “Smart girl.” 
You knew that the hotel was outside of your price range because a perfectly groomed doorman opened the door for you, waving you inside with a gloved hand. You didn’t take much time to process the interior - the chandelier was just as grand as it had seemed from outside and elaborate columns rose to the ceiling - because Elllie was pulling you towards the elevators. It was like she wanted to ignore the fact that she had brought you to a hotel at all. You couldn’t decide if that was reassuring. 
In the empty elevator, you gently drew your hand back and leaned against the wall opposite her. You tried to ignore looking at the way her pinstripe slacks hugged the curves of her thighs, the fabric straining when she propped one booted foot on the wall behind her. 
“So,” you started in a desperate attempt to fill the awkward silence, “if you’re not leading me into a seedy hotel room on the first date, then what are we doing?” 
“Okay, one,” Ellie said, chuckling, “this is anything but a seedy hotel. And two, what kind of a date would it be if I ruined the surprise?” 
“And what if I don’t like surprises?” you countered. 
Ellie grinned. “I think you’ll like this one.” 
When the elevator doors opened, Ellie held her hand out to you as though it were a question. You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand back in hers and letting her lead you out into open air. 
You nearly choked on a gasp. 
The bar itself was beautiful - fairy lights stretched above your head, twinkling like stars and casting the rooftop in a warm glow. Wooden tables and plush couches were spread artfully around the space, far enough apart to provide the patrons scattered about with some privacy. 
The bar was beautiful - but the view was fucking breathtaking. 
The city stretched out beyond the railings, open in a way you had never seen before. The skyline rose around you, each building shining like its own little galaxy amidst a sea of stars. The city lights blocked out the actual stars - a fact that never failed to piss you off - but you could see the crescent of the moon rising over the city, casting a quiet glow like a veil. 
You looked back at Ellie, and whatever your face held made her grin. She leaned in just enough so that her murmur was for your ears only: “So, was I right?” 
You blinked, momentarily distracted by her proximity - she smelled intoxicating, spicy and warm with a hint of tobacco beneath - before you finally said, “What?” 
Ellie snorted, breaking whatever spell she had put you under. “The surprise,” she said, leaning away enough for your head to clear. “Was I right?” 
You bit the inside of your cheek, pursing your lips as though you had to think about it. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the skyline stretched before you. 
You finally said, “That depends on how good the drinks are.” 
When Ellie laughed, her eyes crinkled in the corners, her nose scrunching. It was a full, rich sound, hanging in the air above your head like helium. It made something in your chest tighten, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. 
She squeezed your hand, a twinkle in her eye, and said, “The old-fashioned's to die for.” 
You pursed your lips again to hide your smile.
Ellie didn’t bother checking in with the host, simply shot her a smile and a wave as you walked by - you tried to bite back a giggle when you saw the host’s face turn red, her eyes tracking Ellie as she led you to a table right along the edge of the railing. She pulled the chair out for you - “Such a gentleman,” you laughed - before taking the seat opposite you.
As she waved over a waiter, you took a moment to lean your head over the railing. It was made entirely of glass, giving you a clear view of the city below. You could hear the distant sound of traffic, cars racing below you like shiny beetles, but it was like it was coming from a different world altogether. Everything seemed impossibly, wonderfully small from up here. 
You looked up at the sound of your name to find a groomed waiter wearing a fucking waistcoat standing before you. Ellie was looking at you with laughter in her eyes, her lips twitching. 
“Shit, sorry,” you said, immediately flinching at your own curse. You suddenly couldn’t remember the proper etiquette in a fancy bar, feeling out of place and underdressed even in your nicest outfit. You looked between Ellie and the waiter, wracking your brain for any kind of drink that wasn’t a trashy cocktail you’d find at a dive bar. 
Seeing you floundering, Ellie gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Do you like wine?” 
Relief washed over you as you nodded. Turning back to the waiter, Ellie ordered something that you couldn’t even hope to pronounce, charm lifting the corner of her mouth. She spoke to the waiter with the steady ease of familiarity, laughing at some inside joke; you briefly wondered just how often Ellie came to this bar. Surely, a nice place like this - at the very precipice of the world, looking down at the stars - wouldn’t be a regular stop on anyone’s schedule, but Ellie and the staff spoke like old friends. 
When the waiter left, tussling Ellie’s hair playfully, she turned back to you and the awkwardness of a first date finally set in. Sure, you had been texting Ellie every day for a week now, but you still hardly knew the girl. You knew she liked mushrooms and hiking. You knew that most of her clothes were from the thrift store even though she could afford any designer brand she wanted. You knew her favorite video game was Dishonored. But nothing you knew was enough for a relationship. 
But you weren't exactly looking for love, were you? 
After a moment of silence, Ellie cleared her throat, looking out over the city. “It's nice out here.” 
You snorted before you could stop yourself, covering your mouth; it didn't cover the laughter in your eyes. You said, “You're really talking to me about the weather?”
Ellie opened her mouth, an indignant sparkle to her eye, before shutting it again. It was like she was malfunctioning, opening and closing her mouth yet no sound came out. She furrowed her brows, looking at you as though you were something new and interesting, before finally chuckling, looking away. “Yeah, I-I guess I am.” When she looked back up at you, her eyes were surprisingly sheepish. “Not making a great first impression, am I?”
You couldn't stop the smile that crept up to your eyes. You leaned closer, propping your chin in your hand, and said, “I think you're doing okay so far.” 
Ellie laughed that wondrous laugh again, her nose scrunching up, and the cord in your shoulders loosened. 
“Okay,” she sighed, her eyes still alight with residual laughter. “Okay, damn. Tell me about yourself.” 
“Well now this just sounds like a job interview.” 
Ellie threw her hands up in mock frustration, trying to stifle her own grin. “Okay, fuck, knock me down again! You're obviously an expert, so show me how it's done.” 
She leaned back and crossed her arms, looking at you expectantly, and it was the perfect moment for your drinks to arrive. Ellie did, in fact, order an old-fashioned. The waiter set two wine glasses on the table, producing a bottle seemingly from thin air. He held it out, explaining to you in rehearsed prose the year, acidity, and complexity in words that passed straight through you. You nodded along even as you didn't process a single word he said. 
When he left, you turned back to Ellie and said, “How did you find this place?” 
Ellie took a sip of her drink. The lights of the city danced in the amber glass. “Just an old haunt of mine, I guess.” 
You took a sip of the wine, taking the distraction. It was warm on your tongue, tasting of wood and fruit and something spicy just underneath. The wine you usually drank was the stuff you could find in your nearest grocery store, often tasting concerningly like bug spray and bought with whatever tips you had managed to scrape together from work. It was usually shared with a friend on your kitchen floor, the walls and thoughts spinning over your head. 
You much preferred wine like this: The taste of warmth and fire on your tongue, the cool air brushing your shoulders at the edge of the sky, and a beautiful person sitting across from you.
When Ellie lowered her glass, you could see amber droplets of whiskey clinging to her lips before her tongue darted out to catch them. You tore your eyes away, but her smile said that she had caught you staring. A chill ran up your spine that you were sure was just from the cold. 
Seeing you shiver, Ellie wordless reached behind her where she had tossed her jacket over the back of her chair. Standing, she rounded the table only for a moment, only long enough to place the coat over your shoulders. Her hands lingered there for a second too long before she retreated, sliding back into her seat as though she had never moved. 
“So, why are you here?” she finally said. 
You pulled the jacket around your shoulders, distracted by the smell of it. The same smell that must be her perfume clung to it, spiced and warm like an open fire, but something else clung to the fabric too. It was strangely metallic, sharp and intoxicating, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was shockingly warm against your skin. 
“I’m here,” you said, raising a brow and ignoring her real question, “because you sent me this address and told me to meet you here at eight wearing my nicest dress.” 
The corner of Ellie’s lips quirked, a grin she was trying to hide. She clasped her hands, leaning across the table so you could smell the whiskey on her breath. “And you agreed to meet a stranger at a seedy hotel,” she murmured, mocking your remark from earlier. Her grin revealed itself when your cheeks flushed. “But why are you here - what are you seeking?” 
You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s kind of a dumb question, don’t you think? It’s pretty obvious why I’m on the app.” You cocked your head, leaning across the table, feeling a strange thrill when her eyes flashed. Your heart fluttered at the proximity, and you couldn’t remember when you had become so easily starstruck. “The real question, Ellie, is why are you?“ 
Ellie’s eyes darkened, and you weren’t sure if you just imagined her eyes flicking down to your lips. She looked back up at you through her lashes, her voice rough when she said, “That’s a third date kind of question.” 
Your eyebrows shot up. “What makes you so sure you’ll get a third date?” 
Ellie tilted her head, a slow smile pulling at her lips, and said, “Call it a hunch.” 
The waiter came to check on you, appearing at your shoulder like a ghost. You hastily retreated, leaning back in your chair as though the electricity in the air had shocked you, and took a sip of wine that was more than a little overzealous. You tried to choke it down as Ellie waved the waiter away with that heartstopping crooked smile. What happened to you? Since when were you so easily charmed by freckles, green eyes, and smart-ass comments? You couldn't remember the last time you had been so infatuated during a normal date, let alone one with these kinds of strings attached. 
“So you don't want to be in an interview,” Ellie said once the waiter was out of earshot. “I guess all my typical getting to know you conversations are out of the question.” 
“I didn't say that,” you countered, your throat still burning from your accidental wine waterboarding. “But come on - what girl are you going to impress by asking her questions like ‘Tell me about yourself,’ or ‘Why are you here?’ or ‘Why are you more qualified for this position?’”
“Okay, okay, goddamn,” she said, laughing. Grabbing the wine bottle, she looked at you for permission before pouring you another glass.
You brought the glass up to your lips, taking a sip to hide your smile. The flush in your cheeks was surely from the wine and nothing else. “What about you?” 
“What about me?” 
“I hardly know you.” On one hand, that felt entirely untrue - but especially after this recent discovery, you really knew nothing about this girl. “Tell me about you.” 
Ellie laughed that same rough laugh and your heart jumped. “Oh, so you're allowed to be the interviewer.” 
You nodded, twirling the glass between your fingers and looking at her expectantly. 
After a moment, Ellie rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, but you could see the humor in her eyes. She downed the last of her old-fashioned and, like a good sport, said, “What do you want to know?”
Turns out, there was a lot to know - more than a simple dating app would tell you. Ellie had an older sister, Sarah, who lived in Dallas. Her dog was named after her childhood best friend. Her jacket wasn't thrifted after all, but had been her dad's. Speaking of which, she used to go hunting with him every season (“I haven't been in years, though,” she said, her eyes distant). On the weekends, she'd go to antique stores to look for art and trinkets to fill her house - her favorite antiques were from the 17th century. She hated horror movies and was a sucker for a good romance. 
In return, you caved and answered her pressing questions. You told her about your best friend - Ellie laughed when you told her that your friend had sent you the link to the app in the first place. You told her about your favorite show that you binge-watched whenever you felt like you were spiraling. You did not tell her about your apartment that was probably the size of her closet or the fact that you'd have to watch your budget after taking the Uber tonight, not to mention the extra $30 Uber to get home later. You did tell her about your family, and a strange, unexplained sadness crept into the creases around her mouth. You did tell her about your job, but didn't mention the second one you worked to afford groceries. You told her you were hoping for a real, human connection, yet didn't mention that you couldn’t imagine finding it in a fucking sugar mommy. 
All too soon, the wine bottle was empty and your chest was comfortingly warm. The lights strung across the bar danced above your head like fuzzy stars, and Ellie's smile was the brightest amongst them. Her glass was still empty, her wine glass dry, and yet her eyes told you she was intoxicated by something far stronger. 
“Sorry,” you said, giggling despite yourself. “I didn't mean to drink it all.” 
“Don't worry about it, darling,” she said, her voice silky smooth, reminding you of melted chocolate sliding down your throat. She tilted her glass, letting the remnants of melting ice clink against the side. “I wanted to make sure I could drive home okay.” 
The waiter arrived then, pulling the bill from his pocket and handing it to Ellie. You couldn't read the number upside down, not through the haze of the wine, but the number of digits made your stomach clench. Ellie dropped a black card into the folder and handed it back to the waiter. 
“How much do you want me to Venmo you?” you asked when she turned back to you. You clenched your hands in the hem of your dress, already calculating the extra shift you'd have to pick up to afford it. 
Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed. “Nothing,” she said, as though it were obvious. 
“That wasn't exactly a cheap bottle, Ellie,” you laughed. “Let me give you something.” 
Ellie hummed, propping her chin in her hand and looking at you with those same intense eyes; it sent a dangerous shiver down your spine. “I like when you say my name.”
You blinked at her. “Excuse me.” 
“I want to hear it again. That's how you can repay me.”
You rolled your eyes. “Ellie, I-” 
“Okay, now we're even,” she interrupted, smiling that crooked grin that you had started to crave. The waiter returned with her card and Ellie produced cash from her pocket, handing it to the waiter directly. He thanked her profusely before making his exit, grinning. When Ellie looked at you again, you were still watching her expectantly, dumbfounded. She finally rolled her eyes. “Seriously, what kind of date would I be if I made you pay?”
“You're not making me, I'm offering.” 
“And I'm saying no.” Ellie stood, straightening her shirt; when she tugged at it, the collar fell a bit, exposing sharp collarbones beneath. 
Rounding the table, she offered a hand to you, pulling you gently to your feet. You pulled her jacket tighter around yourself, knowing you needed to give it back yet unwilling to part with it just yet. 
Taking your arm, Ellie leaned in close enough that your breath caught in your throat and said, “I know why I found you on Seeking, okay? So, if it's alright with you, let me spoil you. Even if that just means one bottle of wine.” 
You laughed, but it sounded breathy even to your own ringing ears. “One very expensive bottle of wine.”
Ellie shrugged, a sparkle in her eye. “It's a small price to pay for your company.”
You were silent in the elevator, but you held on to her arm as though afraid to let go. You couldn't figure out why, but something in you urgently wanted nothing more than to be close to her. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt such a pull from somebody. 
Back on the street, the lights of the city seemed so much brighter than they had before. Ellie released your arm, turning to face you, and there was a strange pinch between her brows that you couldn't translate. 
“Do you want me to call you an Uber, or do you want me to take you home?” she asked, and your brain short-circuited. When you could do nothing but stammer, tripping over your own tongue, Ellie laughed. There was no mockery behind it, only quiet, bright amusement. “I meant I can drive you to your apartment so you don't have to drunkenly sit in an awkward Uber that smells sickeningly sweet and the driver tries to make mind-numbing small talk.” 
Your sigh of relief came out more like a laugh. 
Ellie tilted her head and stepped closer to you, her hand reaching out to graze your fingers, and that sigh was sucked right back into your lungs. Being so close to her made your head spin. Her breath fanned against your cheeks, smelling of warm whiskey, when she said, “Unless you want to come to my place?”
It had the uncertain tilt of a question, and Ellie wouldn't quite meet your eyes. 
“We don't have to do anything,” she continued in a rush. She scratched anxiously at the back of her head, a nervous laugh slipping between her lips. “We can just sit and talk more. Or watch a movie - my dad had this huge collection. I'm not gonna - You know, I'm not going to do anything you don't want.” She finally interrupted herself with a groan, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Fuck, sorry, I wanted it to sound more suave than this.” 
And you would be a fucking idiot to go home with this impossible stranger. You had been taught better - never get into a stranger's car, and for the love of God, never let them take you to a second location. You could let her take you back to your apartment at least - you were admittedly incredibly tipsy and didn't particularly want to endure another ride with an annoyingly talkative Uber driver. You could go home, back to your claustrophobic, quiet apartment, and maybe - maybe - text  Ellie about setting up a second date. 
You were not stupid enough to go home with somebody on the first date. 
Except clearly you were, because you took the hand that was still grazing your fingers and looked up at Ellie - the contours of her face were shockingly etched with insecurity. And your dumb mouth said, of its own volition, “Okay.”
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You had expected something flashy, like what a wealthy person would own in a movie - like a penthouse overlooking the city with too-white walls and electric guitars hanging, unused, on the walls. Maybe she had walls completely made of windows so it felt like you were on a pedestal overlooking the world. 
You hadn't expected a house that was older than your great-grandparents. 
When Ellie pulled into the driveway, you were sure she was just pulling in someplace to turn around, that she had missed her turn somewhere. But she put her stupidly-expensive car into park and killed the engine, shooting you an awkward glance. 
“Sorry,” she said, chuckling. “I know it’s not much.” 
You could only look at her incredulously, speechless, before looking back up at the house before you. You couldn’t even call it a house really - estate would be more fitting. Maybe mansion. Fuck, her house was the size of your apartment complex. It towered over you, three stories of intricate woodwork, warm brown beams wrapping around the structure like an elaborate skeleton. With beautiful eaves winding around the roof and an entire turret reaching for the moon, it looked like something that had stepped right out of some 1800s southern gothic novel. 
Ellie cleared her throat, startling you from a trance. You looked back at her and, for some reason, couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.
”Shit, sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with your hand. “I just - I’ve just never seen anything like it.” When Ellie’s eyes clouded over with uncertainty, you added softly, “It’s beautiful. Besides, Ellie,” you added, laughing again, “‘not much’ doesn’t really suit you.” 
Ellie opened and closed her mouth and yet no words came out. She was looking at you again as though you were something interesting - something new and exciting. Nobody had ever looked at you that way before, and the way your heart clenched at the sight was more than a little dangerous. 
Ellie finally smiled, huffing out a laugh - your heart was pretty satisfied with how often you were able to make her laugh - and said, “Do you still want to come inside?” 
And, surprisingly, you said, “Yeah, I do.” 
As Ellie got out, rounding the car to open your door for you, you discreetly checked that the taser was still in your bag. Sure, you had agreed to go home with a practical stranger, but you couldn't be too careful. 
The porch steps creaked as she led you to the door - double doors (of course), with stained glass and twisting vines carved into the wood. When Ellie opened them, it felt like you were transported to a different time on an entirely different world. 
The grand staircase caught your eye first - how could it not? Warm wooden steps covered in a blood red runner, a white banister winding up, those same vines that seemed to be the house’s signature carved into it. You could see a large, stained-glass window at the landing before it curved to disappear to the second floor. Moonlight splintered through the window in broken relief. 
As though in a trance, you wandered further into the house, walking to the fireplace situated right beneath the stairs. The wood stacked neatly inside was cold, untouched by a flame. There was a large mirror set atop the mantle, its gold frame a work of art alone. In the reflection, you could see the flush to your cheeks, and tried to convince yourself it was only from the cold. You still wore Ellie’s jacket, and you pulled it tight around your shoulders, as though it were a shield. 
You watched Ellie’s reflection as she walked slowly towards you, a small smile gracing her lips. She came close enough to touch - close enough that you could feel her cool breath against the back of your neck - and yet she didn’t put a hand on you. 
“There’s a lot more to see than the foyer,” she murmured, the words brushing your skin. “If you still want.” 
And you couldn’t stop your own smile as you turned back to her, your heart skipping at her proximity. “Show me.” 
She took your hand, her fingers shockingly cold, and led you into what must have been her living room - sitting room? Despite the fact that the house felt more like a museum - like you would get scolded for touching anything - the room was surprisingly cozy. A large, plush sectional was situated in front of another fireplace- this one also unblemished. Blankets and quilts were thrown over the couch and the accompanying chairs, leaving this time capsule looking strangely welcoming. 
“Okay, I have to ask,” you said, turning back to Ellie. She was watching you carefully, gauging your reaction with soft eyes, and you lost your train of thought. You opened your mouth but no sound came out; you weren’t sure if that was more or less embarrassing than the several curses you had said earlier in the night. 
Ellie hummed, raising her hand as though she wanted to touch you. She stopped only inches away from your cheek and dropped her hand, saying, “I’m an open book.” 
You had to turn away to collect your thoughts, wandering across the room if just to catch your breath. The opposite wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. You ran your fingers along the spines of vintage classics, an array of science books, and comics, enjoying the irony of seeing Savage Starlight in the middle of all this history. You picked up a copy to keep your hands busy. 
“How, um,” you started, stumbling over your words, “how did you end up here?” 
Ellie hummed again, and you heard her footsteps following you. “Here as in this town, this country, this world? You gotta be a little more specific.” 
You sighed, giving in and turning to look at her. She kept a careful distance, standing a few feet away from you with her hands in her pockets. “You know what I mean, smartass.”
Ellie chuckled, but her eyes had grown distant, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She took a few more steps closer to you, looking at the comic book in your hands. On the app, she hadn’t struck you as the type to get easily bashful, and yet she had proven you wrong a few times already. 
“My family lived here,” she finally said, quiet as a secret. You watched her carefully, jumping at the opportunity to stare at her without those intense eyes looking back at you. Her brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together as though she was in pain, her green eyes shining. “It was just… passed down, I guess? It’s kind of always been here ever since I can remember. I’m not entirely sure when it became mine.” 
You tucked the comic book back into its spot between The Iliad and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You said absently, “How old is this place anyway?”
”It was built in 1816,” she said automatically, as though it were memorized. 
“It’s an awfully big house for just one person.” You looked up at her through your lashes as she stepped closer - close enough that you could smell that same metallic warmth that seemed to cling to her. 
“It is,” Ellie murmured, smiling. She reached out again, and this time she allowed herself to touch you. Her cold fingers brushed against your cheek before she gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head so you’d look at her properly. Her green eyes were downright intimidating. “But I keep good company.” 
You rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t convince yourself to look away. “Is that what you say to all the girls?” 
Ellie hummed, bracing her other hand on the bookshelf behind your head, and murmured, “No, I don’t.” She pressed in closer, her gaze dropping to your mouth, and you felt like your heart was going to leap from your throat. Ellie huffed out a laugh as though she could hear it pounding against your chest. When her thumb brushed your bottom lip, your lips parted on instinct. She didn’t look away, transfixed on the point where her skin touched your mouth, and you almost didn’t hear her when she said, “Can I?” 
And you had never been the kind of person to kiss on the first date, but she was looking at you with eyes hooded with want, her breath fanning against your cheeks. When she licked her lips, you couldn’t stop your eyes from following the motion. Her lips glistened, parted and plump, looking so impossibly soft. Somehow, past your haze, you heard yourself say, “Yes.” 
Ellie took her time in kissing you. She pressed you back gently, your shoulders pressing into the bookshelf behind you, and touched her nose to yours. She took a deep breath, breathing you in. Her hand was soft against your cheek, tilting your jaw up, and you hardly had to move to finally kiss her. 
Ellie tasted just like she smelled - spicy and metallic, the old-fashioned still hanging on her tongue. Despite the cold of her hand on your cheek, her mouth was impossibly warm, her breath slipping between your lips; it was intoxicating in a way that the wine couldn’t compare to. Her mouth moved against yours, soft and slow as a dance. 
Your hands reached out as though of their own accord, circling her waist and gripping at the slippery silk of her shirt. She pressed in close, crowding you against the bookshelf; you could feel her chest pressing against you, her hips on yours, the line of her body against yours making your head spin. And when Ellie’s tongue pressed against your lips, a gentle request for access, you felt like you’d faint altogether. 
Her tongue slipped between your teeth and you couldn’t stop the breathy sound it pulled from your throat. You could feel that infuriating smile against your lips and suddenly wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. You balled her ridiculously expensive shirt in your hands and pulled her impossibly closer, nipping at her bottom lip, and you wanted to swallow her gasp. 
Ellie pulled away, chuckling, but she didn’t go far. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, her lips trailing down to your jaw, and she could probably feel your pulse jump beneath her tongue. You could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Do you do this often?” 
Her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, and it took you a few moments before you could respond. “Do what?” Despite yourself - despite the way your fingers gripped her shirt, your head swimming and an unexplainable want burning in your veins - you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go on a date with somebody I met on an app for sugar babies and go back to their ridiculously old mansion on the first date and-“ 
You cut yourself off. You weren’t sure exactly what was happening, and you were afraid that voicing it would break whatever spell you were under - whatever spell made this impossible woman’s touch feel like lightning. 
But Ellie only laughed, biting at the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Yeah, that.” 
You shivered against her touch. “No, I’ve never really done this.” 
“Guess I’m just lucky.” 
Ellie kissed you again, only briefly, before she finally pulled away. She was grinning, her eyes sparkling with those same constellations; her face wasn’t even flushed, making you feel embarrassed about your burning cheeks. You were panting, intoxicated from the night and wine and Ellie. Her absence felt like an ache, your body craving the feeling of her lips, her teeth, her hands. You were close to tugging her back in, your hands still gripping her shirt, but she gently untangled herself from you with a laugh. 
“I want to keep going.” She paused, and then emphasized, “I really want to keep going. But you drank an entire bottle of wine, and I’d be kind of a shitty host if I didn’t offer you something to drink at least. Or are you hungry?” 
You were hungry, but it was the kind of hunger that food wouldn’t satiate. Still, you let your hands drop back to your sides, feeling your senses return to you now that they weren’t so tuned into Ellie - how she smelled, tasted, felt. When you laughed, it sounded breathy even to your own ears. “Some water would be nice.” 
“I can do that,” she said with a smile. “Stay here.” She kissed you again, lingering for a few moments longer than needed, before she turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in this ridiculously old mansion. 
With nothing else to keep yourself entertained, you did a slow lap around the room, eyeing the ironic blend of elegant antiques and silly trinkets that were so obviously Ellie. A cracked ivory trinket box sat on a shelf, intricate flowers engraved into the lid, set right next to a small figurine of an astronaut. Beautiful paintings lined the walls, signatures dating back to 1830 in elaborate script at the bottom, but there were also a few posters littered here and there - bands and video games. 
You walked over to the mantle, your fingers grazing over the marble top. The logs inside were untouched, and you briefly wondered if she’d light a fire soon to chase out the chill of autumn. A small jar filled with guitar picks sat at the corner, and you wondered if she really did have an electric guitar collection hidden around here somewhere. Your foot kicked an empty dog bowl, and yet Riley was nowhere to be found. Maybe Ellie took her to daycare when she knew she’d bring a girl home. You nearly laughed at the idea. 
Atop the mantle, hidden behind pictures of what must have been friends or family - hiking or traveling or laughing in somebody’s backyard - there was another picture frame. It must have fallen, face down so that the picture inside was covered. You reached out, careful to not disturb any of the other frames, and picked it up. You were just going to fix it, set it up next to the others, but something in the image caught your eye. You plucked it from its home, bringing it closer, holding it up to the light to get a better look. For a long time, you couldn’t figure out what you were looking at. Your heart hammered against your chest, your ears ringing, as though your body had figured it out before your brain did. 
It was an old photograph, grainy and sepia, faded and frayed around the edges with age. It was the house, looking just like it did today - the huge windows shining in the sunlight, the intricate eaves and wrap-around porch perfectly polished and new. A family stood on the lawn in front of the house, looking awkward and stiff. Back then, cameras took several minutes to actually capture a photo, so people tended to look a little awkward from trying to hold the same expression for so long. But that’s not what had caught your eye. 
It was a small family - a weary looking dad and his two daughters, looking just a few years younger than you. 
She looked a little different. Her hair was longer, falling in waves around her shoulders. She was definitely a few years younger, and she wore a sweet, full-length gown instead of a worn leather jacket. 
You checked the date in the bottom corner at least five times, but there was no mistaking it. The person in the photo was undeniably Ellie, standing in front of this house in 1816. 
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tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @peejayurple @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight @hobbybound
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princessleprechaunnn · 2 months ago
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Memory 1
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series masterlist warning: ummm typical yellowjackets things, cussing, drug use, lezzing out hopefully a series as long as i stay locked in
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         You were walking back to the cabin, water in tow. As you set it down, you spot Natalie and Travis bickering. You try to walk past them, but your curiosity gets the best of you.
“What the fuck is the issue?” you say trying to sound annoyed, but the slight smirk on your face betrays you. 
Natalie scoffed before looking at you “This bitch is too good to go hunting with me, wanna come instead?”
You took a second before shifting on your feet and replying, “Umm, sure.”
At that, Nat slung the rifle over her shoulder and started trekking deeper into the woods.
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Somehow, she leads you back to the crash site. Nat abruptly stops, and you shift nervously before calling out her name softly.
“Nat, why are we here? I thought we were going hunting?”
She turns around, meeting your gaze, and walks into the plane's cabin. “Hold on..”
You wait patiently when you finally see Nat’s head pop out again, grinning at you. You furrow your brows, confused, until you look down at her hand. A crumpled bag, as well as her lighter. Her face seems to beckon you closer, and before you know it, you are sitting on the plane floor with Natalie.
She fidgets softly with the lighter until she gets it to light and takes a blunt from the bag. She brings it to the flame and lights it. You watch as she breathes in, and soon slowly exhales the hot puff of smoke. She looks at you for a moment, looking as if she were contemplating something.
“You smoke?” she asks, a quizzical expression on her face.
“I mean, I’ve tried a cigarette once or twice at a party. But I haven’t made it a habit?” She chuckles softly before sitting up and leaning in a bit closer.
“Just open your mouth, breathe in like it's a straw. Hold it in for a second, then slowly let it go. Ok, you try.”
You take the blunt in your hand, gazing at it momentarily. “It’s not gonna bite, either hit it or pass it back,” Nat says, her gaze softening slightly.
“Shit, ok.” You try to do what Nat says, but it feels like your lungs are about to explode. You blow out the smoke and start to cough aggressively, which makes Nat start laughing loudly.
“Oh my god, easy there. You’re too aggressive. It's not going anywhere, ease up.” You try it again, and follow Nat’s instructions. To both of your surprise, you softly exhale the smoke.
“Better, now gimme.”
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It’s been almost an hour of you smoking and talking with Natalie, and your conversations were frequently interrupted by fits of giggles. As she rambles on about something, you interrupt her.
“We should have hung out more in school, you are honestly the most decent person on this team.”
Her gaze on you softens momentarily, but then her wall is right back up. 
“Because you would wanna hang out with the school burnout, yeah, right.” She looks away from you, her eyes searching for anything to look at other than your face.
“I wouldn’t have minded, I don’t care about that shit too much. Plus, you are so fucking funny. And I could have kept you company whenever you skipped.” You said, looking at Nat softly. 
She gazes at your lips, and you gaze at hers. “You really would have hung out with me?” she whispers 
“Hell yeah,” you spurted out.
Your words caused a silence to fall over you both, until Nat spoke up. 
“We should probably go back, also, I need to find us all dinner on the way back.” You both stood up and straightened out your clothes. You began the longer walk back to the cabin, Natalie scoring two rabbits on the way. As you walk back into the cabin, you look at Natalie one more time as she speaks with Shauna. She met your gaze for a moment and smiled softly at you. Her lopsided grin brought butterflies to your stomach. 
Oh fuck…
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notes: i caved to the demons (my impatience) ...also enjoy me trying to describe how to smoke a blunt despite having no knowledge on the subject!
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reclusiarch-orm · 3 months ago
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Just want to say I have mad respect for you. When I entered the tumblr wh fandom I did not expect that amount of tradwife x reader material
love and peace on planet earth and all that but I think we should be allowed to get mad when you have x reader, x oc, canon x oc tags blocked, and then you see tradwife x reader content on your dash of some astartes guy whose name you’ve seen maybe once, and it is only tagged [character’s first name] x reader, and some variation of this happens everyday
i was a lurker in fandoms as a teenager (i never used even the reblog feature lol) and i remember it not being this prominent even back then. it's crazey. culture shift, honestly. when i was a kid, selfship was more, for One Direction fandom, things like this. self INSERTS definitely existed but this, tradwife wave? i never saw it. it probably existed but it was not the main chunk of fandom content which it absolutely is now. you'd be forgiven for thinking 40k was an otome game if you knew nothing about it and just looked in the tumblr tags.
i have been thinking a lot about fandom culture. i think this is a space deeply marked by its users mainly being female socialized. the consensus of "don't ever voice your discomfort, or someone might feel bad". bruh.
the fallout from me, on my own blog, crashing out. i have said this now 50 times but NONE of that was TAGGED! and yet it was immediately chastised to hell and back. which, i'm cool with fighting. but it's also very interesting that fandoms seem not only to rely on the TAGS being kept hostility free (i get that, that's good) but also users PERSONAL blogs being kept free of opinions? because they might hurt someone's feelings? i got a lot more anons than i published, telling me variations of "block and filter" and "DON'T LIKE DON'T READ, DON'T SPEAK BAD". if i had not found likeminded people i'd have fucking left this site long ago lol. i enjoy drawing for you all, but this mentality of silence, eugh.
people raised to be women are very much told their whole lives "there's no need to say what you're feeling, other people might feel hurt! just be quiet. tolerate it". that really shows in how these fandom spaces handle themselves. it's a massive exercise in female social governance. and people who constantly feel uncomfortable and overburdened, but can't vent it, they'll leave! personally i'm not about that life myself. this is how i choose to handle my internet experience. uncomfortably combative for a lot of people but alas
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sevs-corner · 8 months ago
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Gary “Roach” Sanderson if he was in the CoD: MW Series (2019-2023)
LOOK-- I really like Roach (i watched the remastered mw2 2020 recently) and I wish he comes back later on in the current MW series. So for now (and my coping-ness) let’s imagine his dynamic with the gang! (These are all HCs with some in between dialogue and plot, and I'll be using some major plot points from the campaign. A lil' heads up, its been awhile since i've watched the gameplay so the timeline might be a bit confusing lol) Masterlist here ! And a previous HC of Roach here !
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Roach gets recruited around the same time Gaz does, after the mission in London when Gaz’s team was trying to stop a cargo right in the middle of the city.
Roach is one of the many officers that gets called in for back-up
And then finds himself working in tandem with Gaz, covering each other’s backs as they try and secure the hostages
Price shows up as per usual and saves the two from under the rubble
Afterwards, with the two surprisingly not broken, they handle the aftermath and comes in the scene where Price recruits Gaz after he admits they had a great deal of info on the bust but was unable to act on it
Roach agrees, seeing the movements and reports that Gaz makes to their boss in the SAS, and feels mutual of how restricted they are right now
Seeing their conviction, Price gives a call to Kate and adds an additional person to the team-- Roach.
Then they all go on all sorts of missions together, Roach actually being the more grounded but chaotic of the three
So, lets say he adapts the shenanigans we do as players when we play as his POV in game
Randomly, he is picking up all sorts of guns from the ground, constantly swapping and taking too long to loot enemy bodies (that sometimes Gaz does it for him so they could move on quicker)
Price on the other hand just lets him does his thing-- until he rushes forward like a maniac and go guns blazing in the Embassy
But, he also gets scolded by plugging up comms from humming-singing, and--
what the fuck- PUT THE BANJO DOWN--
He's the type of person to be like that one guy who plays jazz music on his comms in a gun fight (yeah i made a gundam thunderbolt reference mhmm)
You'd think he'd go deaf but no, he takes peace in the chaos
Reveling and thriving in it actually, like he’s too used to the scene (he is but he would rather work in the moment then act in worry and in constant stress)
Roach was almost tempted to go with Alex and Farah for their cause but thinks about how he’s a much better fit with the 141 guys, and how he could see himself working in the squad long term
He eventually meets Johnny and Simon on the mission to get Hassan
Yet that goes to high and hell when he was a part of the A squad, barely clear of any wounds- luckily, nothing fatal
But the situation he found himself made him more energized with serotonin, easily making quick work of the combatants in his vicinity— doing his best to cover for his comrades who were still recovering
He knows Soap and Ghost would be here immediately but he tries to convince to focus on the mission, to let him handle it as he hunkers down for a moment to reload
They both deny, checking out first the crash site before checking out Hassan, and coming up empty
Until Roach finds the metal shipping carrier, calling over Soap, then Ghost and showing the find of that disdained American rocket
Soap, is obviously confused, and doesn't quite piece it together until Kate discusses it with him
As the others got busy with their personal mission
Of course, we're having Roach join the Ghost-Soap duo in Las Almas
Because of needing more man power in capturing Hassan of course
He hops into the mission somewhere in the middle, in the mission in getting Hassan with the assist of Graves and his shadows
Roach definitely hissed at this man on instinct and had to be held back by the armpit by Ghost
Even though he had a bad feeling swirling in his stomach, he kept it in and somehow ended up on the same squad as Graves going into the Oil Rig mission
Anddddddddddddddd you can guess how it went with him-- horribly
Personally, I can see how Graves to be this straight-laced guy when it comes to missions in a way that, if someone diverts from the mission or does something that may jeopardize it even a little-- he is going to flip
So that's what Roach exploited, the comms in his ears blowing up every time he goes for a risky kill or -instead of going for a stealth kill- he's going in guns blazing with a very, very exhausted Graves behind him
But the thing about Roach, no matter how reckless he is, he gets the job done
Graves wanted to oh so leave him in the Oil Rig before he and Soap exploded it, but sadly Ghost had told him and Alejandro to get the hell outta there before he could (such a damn shame)
But at least he gets to capture him in the streets of Las Almas
He got quite unlucky actually, about to meet Soap and Ghost but one wrong move got him captured
Ghost and Soap obviously becomes worried, and they're (with Rudy) are more determined than ever
And yep, this is the moment where Roach just sees red
Wreacking absolute havoc in his way with rage filling his veins
If there was anything that was going to tick Roach off, it would be his own allies hurting
Loyalty, whether in the military or not, is special
And if you use him and his allies for your own bitter ends and means?
Oh, you are in a world full of hurt
So much so, that you wished he spoke the merciful words, "pick and God and pray" by your death bed
He doesn't, not for Graves and definitely not for the man he called the General- Shepherd
He swears that Shepherd counted his lucky stars that night when they couldn't locate him after "getting rid of Graves and his lackeys for good"
But it doesn't end there- their job never does
This time, he accompanies Price and Soap into infiltrating the building for Hassan, leaving Overwatch to Ghost and the other team climbing the tower led by Gaz
He is back to, not even exploding the glass and breaking it, but pushing himself off the side of the building and cannon-balling straight through (with, suprise surprise, little to no injuries sustained)
He's a miracle ball of sunshine really
Soap then follows through and Price just... he could care less at the moment with Hassan (who is once again near their grasps)
Roach wanted to stay and help Price (who didn't get shot fatally but was still hurt from the blow) but his captain said to go
Thus, he went--
Doing his best to cover Soap as they finally steal the detonator from him but eventually run out of guns, and eventually--
Get
Shot.
Soap has to decide now- whether to save his comrade and friend or to stop the fucking missile from destroying the white house
Roach knew the cogs that was turning behind Soap's eyes, so he grabs his cheek and head butts him
Telling Soap to get his priority straight as he forces himself back up to distract Hassan
Soap tries to decode and hack the missile as soon as possible when the coast was clear
Luckily, he had just a couple of seconds to spare
Unluckily so, he saw Roach's pliant body in Hassan's hands- being dragged right in front of him
Soap is enraged, wrestling and trying to get the upperhand on armed Hassan
Luckily, Ghost always has his back-- shot on point, direct, and done in one click
With a heavy breath, he gives his thanks to Ghost before calling an evac- checking Roach's condition
Hands are cold to the touch but his artery pulse--
Faint!
By the time MW3 rolls around, Roach is up and at 'em!
Refreshed and recovered with the proper treatment and therapy
Some grazes to the nerves on his shoulder but its still all good and working--
"Ow!"
Yeah, he can't overexert it like before
Which makes the Tf 141 relieved...for now
A/N: Cont for the MW3 part soon! I just wanna freshen up with the plot on Makarov 'cause it was a bit confusing to follow so yeah lol
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baka-bakeneko · 2 years ago
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Enmesh - Miguel O'Hara
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Miguel O'Hara x Fem Spider Scientist reader (afab biology)
a/n: venom venom venom miguel is the dirtiest and slimy but i'm loving this alot. also i ain't copin' to shit. (part two)
tags: Minors DNI, NSFW, Spiderverse hopping, scientific discovery, symbiotic relationship (kinda), references to self-harm (destruction and/or suicide), obsessive Venom, just as obsessive and possessive Miguel O'Hara, consensual non-consent, breeding kink, missionary, oral sex, tentacle (not tentacles), anal fingering, no use of lube, creampie, hint to cervix penetration
wc: 4.24 k
synopsis: Miguel asks you, fellow scientist and spider-in-training, to investigate an anomaly that popped up on the radar.
Miguel had tasked you to follow a couple of Spiders out on patrols, due to the spike in anomalies on Earth TRN688. He’d attempted to go out to that verse himself, but was called to aid Spiderwoman.
You did as ordered, keeping close remarks in the New York you appeared in. Following the Spider you were partnered with, you kept up with your own built-in web slingers and scanned over the landscape with your anomaly tracker.
Miguel followed your tracking, monitoring the spikes in the radar and mapping the New York geography. He was distracted in his own task, enough so that Jessica pocketed his personal tracker on you.
You managed to stop on the same rooftop as Reilly, catching your breath with another scan of the radar.
“What’s up?” He asked, pulling off his mask to catch his breath.
You shrugged, narrowing your eyes at the tracker as a spike rose up in the landscape. “We need to get over there.”
You pointed across Central Park, directly over the water. “There’s a spike out there.”
Reilly exhaled, returning his mask back on and kicking off of the rooftop. “Let’s go.”
You scampered after him, looking over the ledge of the rooftop to see your companion free-falling into New York traffic before catching himself on a web at the last second. You released a shaky breath, shooting out a web and jumping from the ledge, swinging after the Spider.
Upon reaching the anomaly spike, you landed roughly on the scorched grass in Central Park. You pulled yourself up and walked around the crash site of the meteorite. Reilly landed carefully behind you, watching as you slowly approached the cracked open, smoking space rock.
You leaned forward to look at the rock, plain of anything significant.
A splash of shadow lurched out at you and, in the split second of you lurching back in shock, Reilly shot a heavy web out to stop it. The captured ooze writhed on the ground before your feet, slowly soaking in Reilly’s web until you stamped a foot to cut it off.
You dug through your research bag to find a vial large enough for the thing to fit in and bent to stuff it in. You screwed on a tamper seal, holding the vial up to your face as the ooze, dark as night, began to float within the glass like a lava lamp.
Your thumb folded over the front of the glass, watching as the ooze lurched in the direction of it like it tried to attack you.
“The fuck is that?”
You shook your head. “I don’t know. But it’s alive.”
“No shit. It almost ate you.” Reilly said, standing to fold his hand over the back of his neck. “O’Hara would’ve killed me if something happened to you.”
You tore your gaze away from the ooze to look at Reilly. “I appreciate you babysitting me. I’ll tell Miguel your contribution to my safety.”
Reilly dropped his arms to his side, then crossed them over his chest. “Is that all we came for?”
You pursed your lips, bringing the vial into your full hold. “I think so.”
You gave the ooze another curious look then straightened up the contents of your bag to put it in carefully.
“Let’s go show him what we found.”
-
As soon as you were back in headquarters, you bounded towards Miguel’s office. You held onto the strap of your bag carefully, slipping between the countless number of Spider-people in the direction of the epicenter.
You paused at the gate of Miguel’s office, catching your breath once again when you noticed it was occupied with a group.
“Hone— Miguel,” you corrected yourself, pushing yourself forward to Miguel’s platform.
Miguel was directed at the front of the group, looking down at them in pause of giving orders. His eyes slowly shifted over to you, noting your ragged breathing and flushed face.
“Dismissed.” He waved off the group in an instant, lowering the platform to allow you up. “What did you find? Are you okay?”
You nodded, immediately digging into your bag to retrieve the ooze vial. “Your anomaly…was a meteorite. This was found at the crash site.”
You held the vial up between the two of you, your view crossed between it and Miguel’s gaze. Your fingers held the top of the vial and the two of you watched as the ooze lashed up at where your fingers touched the glass.
“Shocking,” Miguel whispered, gripping the bottom of the vial in effort to get the ooze to react to his touch.
The ooze paused, homing itself at the top of the glass where you touched before drooping a glob down as if to test the waters at Miguel’s touch. The two of you watched as it stretched along the vial, touching both ends of the glass and thrumming slightly.
“What do you think it is?” You asked, wanting to hear another scientist’s theory.
“I’m not entirely sure. Is it dangerous?” Miguel asked, tugging the vial from your hold and rolling it in his palm.
You winced softly, watching your discovery slosh about the vial. “It lashed out at me when I arrived but Reilly caught it.”
Miguel’s brows furrowed, pulling his eyes from the ooze before meeting your gaze. “You’re okay?”
His free hand reached out, retracting his claws, and caressed your cheek. You grinned briefly, leaning into his touch.
“I’m fine. Web-slinger’s coming along great.”
Miguel hid a gulp, mirroring your grin before retreating his touch. “You did great, hermosa. I’m dismissing you.”
You nodded, your eyes cutting to the ooze vial in his palm. When you looked at it, the ooze reacted and lurched out in your direction.
“Okay. Will you be home for dinner?”
Miguel folded his lips together, looking down at the ooze vial then back at you. “I may be a bit late. Gonna see what makes this thing tick.”
While you wanted to stay to conduct research with Miguel, you knew that Lyla would be just as good as you in that aspect. You reached for your shoulder, tensing the muscle that throbbed in its place.
Raising on your toes, you leaned forward with bracing Miguel’s thick forearm. “Don’t be too late, okay? You need your sleep.”
You kissed his stubbled cheek, rested your forehead to his temple. “And I miss you.”
Miguel fought the deep exhale from his chest, turning in the direction of your mouth. He was tempted at your soft lips, his nose nudging yours. “I miss you too. I promise not to overdo it.”
“I’m holding you to that,” you whispered, pointing your pinkie finger out for Miguel to cross with his own.
He did so, noting your thumb circling the silicone band on your ring finger. “Get some rest.”
-
Miguel managed to find another container to move the ooze into. He tapped it into the jar and immediately flipped it over.
Watching the sludge dart to the bottom of the jar then below to the table. He forced his hand over the bottom of the jar to keep it from slipping free and marked its response to light.
Nothing.
Its response to water, a quick drop next to it made the ooze not react. Miguel glared at the sludge, shifting the jar back and forth for some sort of response from it.
"You're alive, I know you have a weakness."
When he spoke at it, the ooze seemed to perk up in the direction of his voice. Miguel quirked a brow, tilted his head. "You can hear."
The ooze fashioned its glob in the direction of Miguel's tilt, as if to mimic him. Miguel peeled the jar up and tentatively poked out to the ooze.
"Are you..." Miguel began, watching the ooze lash out to his finger and worm quickly up his arm.
"Whoa, slow down." He reached to stop the sludge but it disappeared under his palm.
Miguel still felt the crawl of the ooze on his body, over his skin and, then, under it. He fashioned his claws, ready to tear into his skin but took a deep breath.
"Lyla!" Miguel called out, looking around his office for his AI. "Run a diagnostic. Quickly."
Lyla blipped into being, scanning over Miguel as he took a few deep breaths in before he felt a sudden onset of heat.
"Mierde," he released in a pant, waving for Lyla to dissipate his suit for the full scan.
"What's wrong, Miguel?" Lyla asked, zipping around Miguel's head as she produced a virtual tablet. "Your temperature's raised to 125."
Miguel's stomach rumbled slightly, his throat growing dryer by the second. His mouth was drying, his tongue aching from the lack of moisture.
"What do you have so far?" Miguel asked, resting his hands on his hips and following Lyla round his head. He kept his breathing steady, blinking slowly while his heart pounded hard against his ribs.
"I-I'm checking," Lyla cut out her attitude, running through her tablet at the scrolling diagnostic. "What is this, Miguel?"
"The-the anomaly," Miguel muttered, snapping his fingers in the direction of the empty jar. "The thing understands words, cognizant of what I say."
Lyla nodded, looking up from her tablet. "I see. The thing is trying to make a nest in your chest, Miguel. It's attaching to your spinal cord."
Miguel gulped, straightening his stature. "Is it...aggressive?"
"Not as I've seen so far. The...thing is trying to inhabit your spleen and draw nutrients from it."
"No," Miguel grunted, immediately clenching his side and puncturing his skin with his claws. "Not if I have a say in it."
Hungry.
Miguel heard the word echo through his head, the word husking into his ear. He tilted his chin, raising his hand to Lyla. "It speaks."
Lyla raised her brows, scrolling through the tablet and stopping at a blip. "It appears to be receding from your spleen. Quick, say something."
Miguel deadpanned at Lyla, cocked his jaw as his body grew in chills. "What are you hungry for?"
Anything.
Miguel looked to Lyla as she turned the tablet towards him. He noted the ooze retreating back to his spinal cord, housing itself between his vertebrae.
"Do you have a name?"
We are Venom.
Miguel exhaled and Lyla resumed her final diagnostics.
"You say you eat anything, yet you garner for my spleen. Why?" Miguel asked, retracting his claws from his skin.
We eat anything. Humans are food.
"Why not eat me immediately?" Miguel asked.
You are with the woman. The scientist. We are symbiotic. We want the woman.
Miguel grit his teeth. "You can't eat her."
We do not wish to eat her. We want her to host us.
Miguel scoffed, waving for Lyla to retrieve his clothes. "Never going to happen. You want to stay with me, that's fine. But you're never getting her."
The ooze within him hummed, the noise reverberated down his spine and he tensed his top lip.
"That's the only way you'll stay. Otherwise, I will destroy you."
Not before destroying yourself first.
"So be it." Miguel cocked his jaw, unfolding his pants after they blipped into existence on his workstation. He gave a nod to Lyla. "I have nothing better to do anyways."
What about the woman?
"My woman," Miguel stressed, pulling on his pants. He reached for his shirt next, folding it over his head and pulling it over his torso.
Mi amor, you call her that. What does that mean?
Miguel scoffed, suddenly glancing to Lyla. "It tapped into my brain stem too?"
Lyla solemnly nodded. Miguel hid a roll of his eyes.
"It means 'my love'. My second language."
And hermosa?
Miguel shook his head. "'Beautiful'."
She is.
"Hey." Miguel snapped his fingers as he stared straightforward. "Venom, right? You...stay out of the way of her. If I recognize a single drop of you in her, I'll dissect myself to kill you. Do we understand each other?"
Venom laxed within Miguel, the closest form of contentedness he felt after the being melded into him.
Fine. We go home to her, though?
Miguel shut his eyes in slight disbelief. "Yes. We do. She's my fiancée."
Lucky.
-
You tried to stay up for Miguel, even after you climbed into bed. There was nothing to keep you in the meantime, after eating dinner and cleaning up the apartment, you waited.
It wasn't until your head jerked back up that you realized you had dozed off. And there was still no sign of Miguel. Shutting off your light, you returned to bed and soon fell asleep.
Miguel appeared in the bedroom when you were finally gone. He waited at the door, listening to you rustle between the sheets.
Venom demanded to be fed as soon as Miguel left headquarters. In order to keep his part of the deal, Miguel stopped at a convenience store and stocked up on roller hot dogs.
The taste of rolled-over grease settled wrong on his tongue, he gagged over not hacking the food back up.
"Why not chicken?" Miguel asked, on his way back to the apartment while suppressing a belch.
Chicken, no.
Miguel stepped into the room and stood at the foot of the bed, staring at you splayed over the mattress. He chuckled, tugging at your big toe.
She's pretty.
"She's my everything," Miguel offered, kneeling onto the bed and moving over you.
She smells delicious.
Miguel cut his face to the side, snarling at the darkness of the room. "You stay out of my mind. She's private."
Venom growled within Miguel. He felt a soft wiggle in his side, acknowledging the familiar ooze that emanated from his skin.
We feel how you do about her.
Venom's appendage caressed Miguel's chin and his nostrils flared.
"I'm not open to sharing." Miguel retorted, his top lip peeling up to reveal his fang.
Who said anything about sharing? We share your body, Miguel. Everything else is one.
Miguel leaned down and rested his forehead to your stomach, nudging his nose along your skin. You stirred, your hand tensing.
"She's mine, only mine," Miguel whispered.
You wish to impregnate her.
Miguel slammed his eyes shut, teeth grit harder as he folded his bottom lip to your skin. "I want her through and through."
Touching.
Miguel tsked, kissing up your body as he applied his weight over you. Venom's appendage slithered over the bed and ghosted over your pillow.
"You don't get to touch her," Miguel ordered softly. "Not unless it's through me."
Your rules.
Venom retracted the appendage and Miguel kissed behind your ear.
"Hermosa, I'm home." Miguel whispered. "I'm sorry I'm late."
Your tired hand reached up to comb through Miguel's hair. "You're burning up, baby."
"I know." Miguel rolled his eyes, his hands planting at your hips. "Cool off with me."
You grinned, working up to waking. "Keep moving like this, I'll break out in a sweat too."
Miguel hummed, kissing across your cheek. "I miss you."
You arched into Miguel, feeling the heat of his body all over you like a rash. His crotch was raving with heat, pressed just over your panties.
"I missed you," you hissed back, feeling your body awaken to his touch.
Her sounds, they are delicious too.
Miguel bit at your earlobe, earning your coo. He bowed his head, forcing out a remark to Venom. "Stop it."
"I can't help it," you moaned, raising your leg.
"Mi amor." Miguel returned to your mouth and kissed you, feeling the anomaly within him ebbing up his throat.
He pulled back with a harsh swallow. His jaw cocked, Miguel reversed back down your body with kisses.
In your shirt, he muttered at Venom to stay in their lane. He bit at the waistband of your panties and peeled them down, lashing his tongue out to stripe your pubic bone.
You sighed, raising your hips for Miguel to pull your panties down. He did so, grinning devilishly as he did. The heat rose under his skin, feeling a prickle at the sight of your sex.
Miguel selfishly leaned in to kiss your inside thigh, dragging his lips along your skin before descending on your pussy. He didn't waste a moment, making a meal of your clit.
You edged awake, sitting up to tighten your grip on his hair. "Baby."
Miguel moaned into you, staring across your body to meet your tired eyes. Venom rattled in Miguel's chest, the ooze ready to lash out and gain his own taste of you.
Miguel pulled away, bit his own tongue to draw back the anomaly. You groaned, shifting your hips up to gain his mouth back.
"Stay," he hissed.
We want to taste.
You purred, grinding your hips back to the mattress. "So bossy."
Miguel flashed a grin at you, bowing back to resume between your legs. "Not a chance. Live in my wake," he muttered against your lips, kissing them before parting you with his tongue.
He forced his crotch to the bed, trying to work out his own pleasure while focusing on yours.
You want her. We want her too. We can help.
"Get bent," Miguel slopped, suctioning his mouth over your clit.
You crooned, breath picking up with each soft lap to your bundle of nerves. "Miguel, please..."
She begs for us.
"Not for you," Miguel offered, popping your clit from his mouth with another heated glare at you.
He shifted, grinding his pelvis against your heat. Your face pinched, a breathy groan escaping your lips. Your hands went to Miguel's hair, combing it from his face to see the lust driven in his eyes.
Instead of crimson lashing through his irises, it was obsidian. The black that pooled his pupils flashed then receded and you swallowed.
Miguel met your lips, allowed you to taste yourself on his tongue. Venom's appendage reappeared, slipping against your thigh as Miguel shifted out of his sweats.
His mouth occupied his demand for Venom to take a backseat. While he didn't understand the anomaly's obsession with you, he knew the need.
Hissing away from your kiss, Miguel bowed his head again. "Stay out of her," he whispered to himself.
She wants you, let us help please her.
"Not a chance," Miguel whispered, angling his stiffened cock against your entrance.
He sank in an inch, allowing you to adjust to his size. You squirmed, your hips lifting to earn more of him. "Please, baby. More."
You rocked your hips in effort to gain his friction. Miguel's hands at your hips held you still, hissing at the heat in his body. Venom ran laps along Miguel's spine, snarling and biting inside for a chance.
Miguel grabbed at the stray appendage of Venom slithering towards your ass and tossed it aside. He sank another inch into, adjusting to your clenching walls.
The heat from within you and the rising temperature of Venom made Miguel sweat out of his pants.
"Miguel, you okay?" You asked, taking note of the rivulets of sweat that doused his face.
The obsidian flashed in his eyes again, making him shed his shirt before going for yours next.
"I need to feel all of you," Miguel grunted, suddenly a man possessed.
The film of sweat on him slicked over your body, his hands gripping tighter in your hips as he sank further until you tensed. It was too much too soon, his size always being something to ease into.
Miguel ducked his head to your shoulder and recanted his hips. "Forgive me, mi amor. I'm starved for you."
His voice was laced with filth, the tone of him so needy and rough. He felt his throat was dragged through desertion to end at the fountain of you.
Miguel's arms caged over you, centering you in the middle of the bed while his skin dripped over yours. So open and naked, his eyes primal while he gulped at the sight of you.
She's so ripe.
Your legs melted further apart at Miguel's hips, your knees easing up while your stomach curled at the carnal stare that bore into you. You shared a soft swallow, feeling Miguel's throbbing cock nestled in your beating walls.
Venom's appendage snaked up your inner thigh, making your walls clench tighter, until a warmth settled between your cheeks.
Your hand reached down to examine the feeling, only to be caught by Miguel's hand on your wrist. You quirked, glancing between your bodies to acknowledge the warmth as Miguel's other hand wedged under your body and traced down your back.
He rested his palm to the small of your back, angling your hips to allow him more. You panted before his lips, feeling Miguel's fingers part your cheeks with a timid grin.
"I want to make you..."
Ours.
"Mine all over," he finished, leaning into your lips to peck. "Is that okay?"
You released a shaky breath and arched into Miguel's body. "Make me yours."
She's filthy. We like her.
"Stop me if it's too much," Miguel offered, finally relenting to Venom's appendage to take lead at your tighter hole.
At the same time, Miguel began to thrust softly into you. He readily eased your mind while Venom lapped the flexible appendage against your hole, making a movement like licking.
"Miguel," you gasped as Venom pushed in softly, testing the pucker of your ass.
Miguel nodded along with you, thrusting with your breaths and intoxicating himself between the two of them. He could taste Venom's excursion on his tongue, feeling the tight muscle slowly give way to the tip and thrust in.
The three of you vibrated on a similar wavelength, Miguel snarling as he fucked into and tasted you all at once. You wiggled at the slow drag of Miguel's assumed dry fingers in your ass, the feeling giving way to your slick being used as lube.
Venom pushed in softer, wiggling in soft half-circles to caress every sensitive wall. You cried into Miguel's mouth when both his fingers and his cock collided within you and sent a shockwave of pleasure to your system.
Your knees shook at Miguel's sides; he stared down at you, drinking in your demeanor while he and Venom made work of you.
She's beautiful.
"You're so beautiful," Miguel stole his words back from the anomaly as they echoed.
You smiled, drunk from the pleasure that vibrated through you. Miguel huffed against you, kissed your lips again as he ground his pelvis against your clit.
You felt another shock to your system, your toes curling as his fingers curved up to meet the thrusts of his cock.
Give her something good.
Miguel cut his eyes behind his lids, finally ignoring the alien and picking up his thrusts to meet your level of high. He was going to take you both over, not the anomaly obsessed.
Your hands gripped at Miguel's shoulders, not able to help the desperate clawing to his massive back to gain your standing. It was a fruitless effort, finding your hips rocking as Miguel's fingers ruined your ass and his cock paved through you.
"C-cum in me," you choked out, resting your forehead to Miguel's.
Make it good. Breed her.
Miguel ignored Venom's disturbed wants, only listened to you. He ground into you again, this time earning your body trembling as an orgasm tore through you.
It made a mess of you, your stomach heaving while your knees knocked at Miguel's sides. Your palms flattened to the small of Miguel's back, forcing his hips further into you. You rocked your hips to ride out your ecstasy, attempting to drive Miguel over at the same instance.
She's a keeper, alright.
Miguel mirthlessly scoffed, following the rock of your hips until the sweat broke out in another wave. He pushed into you, to the hilt, touching the white hot soft ring inside your pussy and came.
He doused your cervix with his cum, kissing at the womb's entrance with the desire to drive deeper into you. Miguel's mind raced, thinking of spelunking further, making you a whole new his.
At the same time, Venom slinked back to its recesses. Reeling back into Miguel, sated and quiet.
Miguel caught his breath over you, losing the strength in his arms and resting his full body against you. You panted just the same, staring up at the dark ceiling while your fingers combed through the nape of his hair. Your other hand traced up and down his spine, inadvertently petting the anomaly housed inside him.
"I," you began, lining your dry throat with a new coat of saliva. "I take it research wasn't a bust."
Miguel kissed at your neck, nuzzling his face in the crevice of your shoulder. "No, it wasn't. You...you brought me a blessing."
We're a blessing?
You edged your chin in to glance down at Miguel. "Really?" You asked, incredulous.
Miguel shook his head. "No, it's an actual pain in the ass. But worth further study."
You laughed softly then, resting your head back to the mattress. "Yeah, speaking of ass..."
Miguel tensed against you, ready for you to catch onto his secret play underneath the skin.
"I liked that," you admitted, rolling your eyes at the raw feeling of your hole, your walls still throbbing around Miguel's still-hard cock.
Of course she did.
Miguel grimaced at the anomaly's cocky nature echoed through him. He pecked at your skin. "I'll never do it again unless you want."
You blushed, shutting your eyes. "As long as I'm yours."
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38sr · 7 months ago
Note
I know this is gonna be a strange one, but I do have an industry question;
I've been looking for a job for the last 4 years post-grad, I've tried every bit of advice I've gotten over my 6 years in school and 4 years out. Is it too late for me?? Or more so what advice would you have at this point?? I'm starting to feel really negatively about this venture, and getting a day job has been just as difficult;;
Hello Sky! Hope it's okay to call you that. Ah post-grad job hunting.....I don't miss that period of my life at all. Before I begin, just want to preface that what I say going forward is strictly from my perspective/experience. I am not the absolute of the animation industry so if what I say doesn't align with you, you do not have to follow it haha. Alright, advice for post grad job hunting.... Well, I think I want to start off giving a bit of context for the animation landscape these past 4 years that has been rough for everyone (trust me it'll come back around to your question): 1.) COVID Pandemic
This one might be a confusing for some people because when COVID hit in 2020, the only facet of entertainment that was able to keep going was animation. If you remember, during this time streaming numbers went up because people were stuck at home, every studio was launching their own streaming platform (HBO Max, Disney+, Peacock, etc.) and celebrities were given animated shows because live-action had stopped dead in its tracks. This period allowed artists outside of California state to get hired because what's the point of capping the talent to the local area when we're already working remotely? In short, it was a boom. But an exponential boom rather than a gradual boom. You never wanna grow too fast because you'll crash out quicker (and harder) which leads us to our second factor.... 2.) Netflix's first ever round of layoffs in summer 2022, streaming actually isn't profitable?????
In short, this year is when Netflix's growth finally stopped and was the beginning of The Great Animation Contraction. Other studios who were looking to Netflix as a the new model of distributing/creating entertainment had realized Netflix wasn't invincible. As well as their business model. So naturally, they got scared and and take action (aka layoffs). I was affected by these layoffs while working at Marvel Studios and many artists got laid off at studios to save face from the mistake that was streaming (though at this point studios were still double downing on it). Also, around this time live-action was slowly restarting thanks to vaccines and social distancing protocols. So those celebrity studded animated productions dwindled down (and also they caused so much havoc for us animation workers because most of those celebrities had no animation production experience). Which now leads us to...
3.) Mergers everywhere! Yeah, uh, mergers fucking suck. People kept losing their jobs because companies kept absorbing into each other and multiplying their debts to ungodly dollars amounts! Apparently no one took a math class and understood if you multiply any number by zero you will always get a zero. These merger also caused more shows to get shelved and canned, making the job market even slimmer. And by then we get to 2023 and the....
4.) WGA, SAG and TAG Contract Negotiations By now, studios have realized that streaming is losing them money because it costs a butt load of money to not only create a streaming site, but also maintain it, update it, create new media for it, acquire established franchises for it, and maintain the current library. Streaming shows aren't being advertised like they used to on cable so shows don't last beyond one or two seasons. Worker contracts are becoming shorter and shorter (I had a co-worker who had a 3 month contract! Isn't that insane?). And what happens in the midst of this streaming meltdown?
WGA, SAG and TAG are gearing up for their contract negotiations. And as we know SAG (actors) and WGA (writers) did strike which good for them! But now there are no live-action jobs and once again, animation (TAG) is the only one running because our negotiations don't officially start until 2024. At this point, so many animated productions have been cancelled left and right for the sake of "saving money and cutting costs". And the effects were very much being felt in the animation work force. Some animation workers were starting to leave the state of California to more affordable cities, some getting day jobs as baristas, hell some leaving the industry all together. It didn't help that studios were kind of withholding production greenlights 'cause 1) they're greedy corporations 2) these strikes were putting pressure on them. And when we did enter 2024 for our contract negotiations, that contraction was at the tightest. The job market for animation had become so bone dry that you have director-level talent taking entry level jobs to stay afloat. But because of that new, emerging artists are blocked out from breaking in. Anytime a job listing would go up people would go in a frenzy and try every thing they could to get the job. That's how little shows were in production this year specifically. Of course, by now it is public that TAG has ratified the contract (meaning we will not strike). But up until then, studios were quite literally waiting with baited breath for the duration of negotiations. A ton of stuff was in development but nothing was getting a greenlight in fear of a strike. So many animation workers at this point have been laid off for at least 2 years, got priced out of LA county, or got so burned by the industry that they left for a more sustainable paycheck. At this point of the post you're probably thinking, "Why is she talking about all of this and not answering my question?"
And the reason for that is because I what to highlight you didn't miss your chance. You unfortunately graduated at a time where the circumstances were not good for breaking in for the past 4 years.
I'm not saying this to deter you from animation either. I just want to be transparent and honest about the current state of animation because it really has been bleak for the past 4 years. So it's not your fault but rather the industry was just in a seriously bad drought. Both emerging and veteran artists have been struggling to find work and when they do it didn't even last for 6 months. Hopefully, with the renewed contract studios will start greenlighting productions again so everyone isn't fighting for one job opening. But I can't tell 'cause I am not Raven Baxter haha. But what advice can I give during this tough time? Start developing your own projects. Things may be pretty dry right now but now is the time when you can create and develop your own original stuff that can be used in your portfolio. Short or long form, showing progress videos, just create. Because once you start working it's gonna be hard to find that personal project time (trust me I'm going through that right now haha). Also, you'd be surprised how just doing your own thing can garner the attention of someone who does have the power to hire you. How do you think I got to work on the shows I have in the animation industry? Almost all of my jobs happened because I was just creating my own thing and it just happened to match the sensibilities of a show produced by a Hollywood studio. And if I had any additional advice... it would probably be don't think that Hollywood is the only way you can tell your stories.
This one is more of....a recent revelation I've had after going through a pretty bad work experience but Hollywood isn't the only way you can be a storyteller. Whether it's comics, games, streaming, animation, or film....the Hollywood system isn't the end all be all. And by Hollywood system I'm referring to breaking into a big studio like Disney, Nick or something and trying to get your own movie/tv show to win an award or something. That system often works for a certain group of people and fails other groups. That's why I say develop and create your own thing because you might find something that fits your creative voice more than Disney or any other Hollywood studio. Maybe that's inconsiderate of me to say as someone who's been incredibly lucky to work in the animation industry for almost 8 years now....but I still wanna be honest that there are other avenues that isn't the Hollywood way. All in all, please don't give up or beat yourself up. The current state of animation within America was out your control and resulted in many artists struggling to find a job. You aren't too late. In fact, I would say now is your time to do your thing in preparation for when that hiring boom comes again (or you can just take another route to tell your stories). I hope that answered your question!
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honeyconez · 11 months ago
Text
Doing the nms expedition it’s so awesome
I found a base that had an exotic crash but HOLY SHITTLES was that thing a piece of work
I saw it and I was like I can fix her so I spent ten minutes refining copper
(More rambling below because I yapped a lot)
whoever put a comm station next to that echo camp consider yourself a skibidi rizzler💯 you saved me hours of hunting for an echo locater because I wanted that salvaged ship
but whoever put a comm station next to that ancient site
consider yourself an op
that ancient site happened to be the ancient site that the ship core was supposed to bond with me
we were gonna fish together
Play baseball
but no
you had to put a comm station there and now
I didn’t get that beautiful ship
and it looked cool too
anyways dissonant planets are cool and all but ERMMM SOMETIMES THERES GRAVITINO BALLS AND IT TAKES ALL MY SELF CONTROL NOT TO GRAB THEM
It’s not even that many
just 2 or 3 per spot and then the spots are spread out
also I accidentally shot a freighter while trying to mine a tritium asteroid because I was struggling with pulse engine fuel and THEY WERE NOT PLEASED
and I think the pirates with bounties on them are funny because they can get really high but my janky old shuttle with only the starship equivalent bolt caster to destroy it and it takes me 5 seconds
also I got a scanner module in the expedition that gives me 75,000-200,000 units for scanning fauna so I scan a few and I get rich it’s my get rich quick scheme 🤑🎰🤑🎰🤑🎰🤑🤑🤑🎰🎰🤑🎰🎰🎰 other than the
the
the B A L L S
I wish I got that salvaged ship so I could store the hundred and thousands of gravitino balls I would eventually get 😫😫😫😫😫🤑🎰🤑🎰🎰😫😫🎰😫🎰
ALSO I think my save is broken
When I found that s class ship IT DISAPPEARED IN FRONT OF MY EYES AND I FELL THROUGH THE PLANET but obviously I fixed it
the second infestation site glitched out and spawned in SPACE so I couldn’t do anything but I reset and that worked
it wouldn’t let me near dropzone 2 I kept pressing the button and nothing would pop up (this also happened on another save)
I went to a comms station for a different ancient site and it didn’t show the text on screen until I WAS IN ANOTHER GALAXY
when I was fighting biological horrors they shoved me through the wall and I glitched awaY
All that was weird but also
WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I looked up at the sky and I saw this god awful thing
null said it was his left ballsack (NOT null from nms my buddy ol chum ol pal)
and it was ATTACKING ME WHEN I SHOOT IT
and then I flew into its giant sight ball and got stuck in there and that was a bit of a scare
Also I will NEVER. NOT. READ. The expedition quests. IF I HAD KNOWN. THAT I WAS SUPPOSED TO. KILL 32 CORRUPTED SENTINELS. I WOULDVE DONE THAT ON THE DISSONANT PLANET AUUUGHHHH
ALSO I HAVE TO KILL 4 SENTINEL WALKERS?
AND I HAVE TO DO STUFF WITH THE MINOTAUR? IVE NEVER USED IT I ONLY USED THE NOMAD IN MY SAVE
😫
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jazzthatonewriterchick · 2 years ago
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Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)
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Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)
Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 
Story Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facials; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic (except for Rei and Haruko). However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: Got myself a job!! I'm so excited but I'm also shitting myself lmaoo but I'm still gonna try to update as frequently as I can. Enjoy! -Jazz
Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.
Read on AO3 here!
************
Chapter Three: Those Bachelor Days Don't Last Forever.
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Keigo sits on the edge of his king-sized bed in his master bedroom feeling sick. Is it weird for the best man to get cold feet and he isn’t the one getting married? 
Well, that’s exactly how he feels now, dressed in his best Armani suit with a pink flower nestled in his breast pocket in accordance with the color scheme of the wedding. He sits with his legs wide and his head down, feeling like the entire world is crashing around him. 
“Baby!” Sakura calls from down the hall in one of Keigo’s three bathrooms. “How much time do we have left? My hair isn’t working with me today.” He hears her grunt in frustration and the sound of a hairspray can fill the air. She’s been in there for nearly an hour getting ready for Fatgum’s wedding, prepping herself as Keigo’s plus-one. 
“Twenty minutes!” he calls back, checking his Rolex watch. “You’ve got time.” And so does he. Thank God because he has to get his shit together. He has to be the best best man for his friend today despite having never been a best man before. 
But he knows this isn’t the main reason why he’s ready to blow chunks all over his red-bottom shoes. He doesn’t hate weddings either. He went to Yu and Nemuri’s wedding two years ago and had the best time of his life stuffing his face with cake, downing all the champagne, and taking home two of the hot waitresses catering the event. 
He knows his anxiety has a lot to do with his conversation with him and his friends last night which led to him coming home early and fucking Sakura’s brains out just to prove to himself that Fatgum wasn’t right.
He had met up with him late last night for Fatgum’s bachelor’s party, which was really just a trip for some ramen dinner and then a game of pool at Fatgum’s favorite high-end bar. It was located in a fancy hotel across the city. Fatgum drank, ate, and rented rooms free since he saved the hotel from a villain attack years ago when a bomb was built under the building. 
The conversations went from 0 to about 1,000 when the drinks kept pouring and the hours kept ticking down till the wedding. Fatgum was happy, giddy even, as he leaned against the pool table in his skinnier form. “Ah, I can’t believe it,” he sighed. “I’ll really be a married man soon! I get to be with the most amazing woman for the rest of my life!” 
“Rest of your life?” Keigo parroted, scoffing at the statement. “C’mon, man, don’t get ahead of yourself. That’s talkin’ forever.” 
“Exactly!” Fatgum gave him a big, happy grin that was so full of love and bliss, it nearly killed Keigo’s buzz. “Haruko is the one I wanna be with forever. I wouldn’t have proposed if I didn’t see us together for all that time, and I plan on havin’ that woman till I sprout grays.” 
“Not to be a downer or anything,” Toshinori aka All Might said from his spot next to Aizawa aka Eraserhead, busy taking his turn at the pool table, “but you do realize that forever for a pro is limited ‘cause of multiple things, right?”
He started ticking off the number of possible threats on his fingers. “Villian attacks, missions gone wrong, crazed fans. The list goes on.” 
“Oh, come on, fellas!” Hizashi aka Present Mic (Mic for short) said from his spot on his stool, sipping from his cocktail with a little umbrella in it. “Don’t rain on poor Fatgum’s parade! I think it’s a wonderful thing to want that with someone. Just look at me and Shouta: six years strong.” He flashed the crew his gold band and grinned at a blushing Aizawa. 
“I get what you’re sayin’, Toshi,” Fatgum said genuinely, patting Toshinori on the back, “and as much I appreciate your honesty, I already know my time may be limited on this earth. That’s why I’m makin’ it count. With my Haruko.”
He sighed dreamily; a picture of being in love. “She’s my forever, however long that may be for however long she wants me.” 
Keigo felt something shift inside of him at those words. He realized with a shock that it was jealousy. But who wouldn’t be jealous of a cute ass relationship like Fatgum and Haruko’s?
They’d been together for six years, fighting through the ups and downs, the good and bad. Keigo couldn’t imagine being married and doing that. To him, marriage was the ultimate commitment. 
And he wasn’t good at commitment. His list of past relationships that could stretch from Japan to Antarctica would tell you that shit. You, Dabi, and Rumi made fun of him for having “international community dick” because Keigo has seen it all, done it all.
As a pro hero, he’s traveled the world for business deals and important meetings, and in every place, he’s had at least one body. 
Keigo just isn’t for relationships. He loved his freedom too much–the freedom to jump from one person to the next in any city or country he wanted. He always figured he was too busy with his hero work to focus on falling in love. He just dated for a good time, which was usually a good fuck that lasted him one night or a few weeks. 
That is until you fell for you. He still doesn’t know when he started falling or how. All he remembers is looking at you one day and thinking, “Damn, she’s beautiful” and then “Damn, I really love her”. 
When he realized what happened, he freaked out. He couldn’t be in love, especially with his best friend! You shared too much together and your relationship was too amazing to be ruined. So he kept his feelings to himself all these years, knowing this love would remain unrequited and unspoken. 
But that doesn’t stop the daydreams of you and him together, you underneath him or him underneath you, your gorgeous face contorted in the pure ecstasy he gave you as he drives his cock into you again and again, making you cum like you’ve never cum before. That doesn’t stop him from wanting to hold you, or feel your lips against his, or feeling hot with jealousy at the other men you give your time to. 
That includes Rei aka Tempo. God, he hates your new man, but not just because he had you. To him, Rei seemed like a fake; like everything he did was for approval and validation, including what he did for you–the dates, the gifts, the cute little IG comments under your photos. It was all for show.
Keigo isn’t with that. You deserve better than that. And now that he knows the dude can’t make you cum, he’s definitely tempted to ruin your relationship with him. But Keigo also isn’t an asshole. He’s also a good friend and wants to see you happy, no matter how much it hurts to pretend. 
“Damn, Keigo, you good?” Ken Takagi aka Rock Lock, asked in concern as he sipped his beer. “You look like you’re about to deck somebody.”
Kan Sekijiro aka Vlad glared at Keigo from his spot at the pool table, his big frame nearly blocking Keigo from the game. “Better not be me if you know what’s good for you,” he grumbled.  
“Chill out, frost tips,” Keigo blandly replied. “I wouldn’t dream of fightin’ your big ass.” Vlad’s glare intensified while the others laughed. “And I’m fine, Ken; thanks for pointin’ that out,” Keigo sarcastically replied to his friend and coworker. He really wasn’t in the mood for this tonight. 
“I would’ve done it, but I didn’t feel like it,” Aizawa deadpanned from the bar. Mic nudged him roughly with his elbow. “Talk to us, Keigo!” he encouraged the winged pro. “What’s eatin’ at you? You don’t agree with someone being your forever?” 
Now the attention was all on Keigo. Usually, he liked it this way, but not right now. He was just trying to enjoy his friend’s bachelor party to celebrate his big day and then go home to have drunk, nasty sex with Sakura. But he knew with a crowd like this, he’d never get away from the topic of conversation.
“It’s not that,” he sighed, sitting on the corner of the table. “I, for one, would love to be with someone I feel like I can see my future with. But as a pro, being in a romantic relationship is difficult and exhausting. Complicates life too much. That’s why I always stuck to my hookups or flings.” 
“So what about Sakura?” Fatgum asked, raising an eyebrow. “Is she a fling or a hookup too?” 
She was, at first. Keigo met the pink, curly-haired cutie at a party he didn’t want to be at downtown (for a business deal) and they got to talking when he offered to buy her a drink after the bartender messed up her order. He was curious about her as soon as he got a look at her in her periwinkle dress that did wonders for her body.
He learned she was a nurse for sick children and her quirk allowed her to ease their pain and discomfort for a few hours by giving them bursts of pleasure in their bodies. He charmed her, danced with her, and managed to get into her bedroom when she invited him back to her place for the night. 
Sex with her is by far the best thing Keigo has ever experienced. Sakura used her quirk on him many times that night to increase his pleasure and gave him some mind-blowing orgasms in the process.
To put it bluntly, he was hooked and started seeing her more and more. Unfortunately for him, his pimp shit was squashed when he got to know Sakura more and more. He became fond of her sweet personality and almost innocent outlook on life. He cared deeply for her. 
But while he cared, he knew that care didn’t amount to what he felt for you. He’d give you the whole moon and the sun if you asked. He’d gladly die and kill just to ensure your safety.
He didn’t care–he just loved you. He knew he could never love Sakura or any other woman the way he loved you, but he could try. After all, he and you were friends. There was no way he could ever tell you how he truly left, and has been feeling for years. 
“She was supposed to be,” he admitted earnestly, “but after getting to know her, I found I really enjoyed talkin’ with her. She’s a sweet girl, don’t get me wrong…” He trailed off, not wanting to get into it, but already leaving breadcrumbs for his highly-interested audience.
“But?” Fatgum pushed. “I know there’s a “but” in there, Keigo. Don’t deny it.” 
Keigo sighed in frustration, knowing he’d look like a fuckboy for this. “I’m just with her for the fun of it!” he confessed with a shrug. “Nothing long-term or committed. I’m not gonna cheat or hurt her ‘cause I’m not a jerk, but I’m also not lookin’ for something for ‘forever’.”
He used his fingers to quote the word, earning a perplexed scowl from Fatgum. “We just laugh, talk, and have a good time.” 
“You mean fuck?” Shouta asked blankly. Even Keigo flushed at the harshness of the word. “Well, if you wanna be blunt, sure.” 
“Keigo!” Fatgum gasped, looking at Keigo like he just admitted to murder. “I’m shocked! You’re really tellin’ me you’re not gonna try to lock a cutie like Sakura down? If you don’t do it now, you’ll regret it later.”
Keigo just waved off his friend’s statement, paying no time to the dramatics. “I don’t regret shit like that.” Fatgum shook his head in pity. “You will when you wind up cold and lonely in your big penthouse without someone to cuddle with.” 
The winged hero sucked his teeth, shaking his head at the others. He knew that wasn’t true. No matter how doomed he was to love you, he also knew he’d find someone else, especially in the future. There was no way he’d be alone forever…right? 
He decided to leave it alone as he waltzed over to the pool table for his turn. He leaned forward, stomach flat against the table, and aimed at a red pool table. It teetered to the right and rolled into two more balls. Once all three fell into the left pocket, he pumped his fist in victory. 
“Do you believe it’s possible to find the one for you somewhere out there?” Mic asked curiously from behind him. He turned around, slightly irked this conversation was still rolling, but he wasn’t going to blow Mic off. The guy was too nice!
“I mean, sure,” he replied thoughtfully, “but I can’t just look for ‘the one’ in every single person I date.” 
Rock Lock nodded as he shoved Vlad out of the way to do his turn at the pool table. “I gotchu. You don’t date to marry; you date for fun. You’re still young, so it’s different for guys like us.”He took a shot at a blue ball, grinning when it rolled into the left pocket. 
“Exactly!” Keigo laughed, happy someone was seeing things from his perspective finally. “See? He gets it! I’m way too young and at the top of my game to be tied down right now.”
Fatgum turned to him, adding more of his two cents. “Be that as it may, Keigo,” he argued, “and while I totally respect our differences here, don’t you think you sound just a lil’...I don’t know…” He trailed off, looking for the right word. 
“Cynical?” Aizawa finished. Everyone’s eyes trained on him to which he passively shrugged. “What? He needed a word, I gave him one.” 
Keigo was irked at his friends’ assumptions about him, especially Fatgum. So what if he felt this way? So what if he liked his freedom and his sex? So what if he jumped from relationship to relationship to avoid thinking about you and being alone? It was no one’s business but his.
“I’m just being honest,” he scoffed, downing his third beer of the night. 
“And I get that!” Fatgum replied, putting his hands up in defense. Sensing that his friend was feeling attacked, he put a hand on Keigo’s shoulder. “You’re totally entitled to feel how you feel, Keigo. And you’re right: you’re young, attractive, wealthy, and the second most popular pro in Japan. You’ve got brand deals, international fame…you’re the total package! A complete bachelor.” 
Keigo cringed slightly, not sure if he liked being called that.
“But one day, all of this ain’t gonna be enough for you,” Fatgum continued a soft look in his eyes. “You’re gonna want something different. Someone who you can trust to love you and not judge you to share your life with.”
He squeezed Keigo’s shoulder, and Keigo felt like he was getting advice from his father. “Trust me; those bachelor days don’t last forever, my friend.” 
That night after going home to his penthouse, his relationships with you and Sakura sat on Keigo’s tipsy, fuzzy mind. Even as he sits here now, waiting for his girlfriend to finish up, he reflects on them heavily. While both have their fair share of positives, he also knows he could never have what he has with you with Sakura. 
He’s known you since middle school! Since the days of acne, schoolyard fights, and other adolescent cringe. You know him inside and out: all the ugly; the bad; the flaws that make him Keigo.
You know of his hurts and pains; the childhood trauma that sometimes has him waking up in the middle of the night; the insecurities he has in himself that sometimes get him down. Plus, you understand the difficulties, horrors, and uncertainties that come with being a pro.
You understand why he stays away from romance and steers clear from falling in love. Sakura could never understand any of this, and he is sure if he tries to explain any of this to her, it’d turn her away for good. 
“Keigo?” 
Keigo jumps, nearly having a heart attack at the sound of Sakura standing in his bedroom. She’s dressed in a pale pink sundress that pairs well with her hair which cascades down her back in waves. She looks like a beautiful, pink angel wearing sandals and with lips that remind Keigo of berries. 
“You alright?” she questions, worry in her eyes; those eyes like the cleanest, purest waters. 
Quickly, he stands and clears his throat. No time to reflect on his future and lament his love life. He has a wedding to go to. “Yeah,” he assures her with a smile. As if throwing him a bone, his phone dings, signaling the arrival of the car he ordered twenty minutes ago. “Good, the car is around the corner. We should head downstairs.” 
He goes to Sakura and wraps an arm around her lower waist. He presses a kiss to her lips, breathing in her scent of rose-scented perfume. “You look amazing, by the way. Maybe those two hours in the bathroom were what you needed.”
Sakura laughs and nudges him as they venture down the winding staircase to catch their ride. 
********
Fatgum and Haruko’s wedding reception is thrown in downtown Musutafu at the largest park in the city.
When Keigo gets out of the car and helps Haruko out of the backseat, he can see his friend broke his bank for the occasion. During wedding rehearsals (which occurred a week before the wedding and Fatgum’s bachelor party), their chosen portion of the park wasn’t yet decorated or littered with guests. But now, the place looks like something out of a damn Disney movie. 
A trail of white satin leads to the area under a canopy of trees winded with fairy lights where the bride and groom will soon stand in front of seats reserved for specific guests from the front to the back.
A few yards away, and a walk away from the park’s parking lot, are the bar, bathrooms, and dance floor littered with white table-clothed tables and chairs for after the wedding reception. Among all of that are rolling hills of freshly cut, green grass and gazebos that will make for great photos. A few white tents litter the area as well, two of which Keigo is sure are reserved for the bride and groom. 
When Keigo and Sakura walk into the wedding hand-in-hand, people are already setting up. A live band sets up their instruments while the priest stands at his post, reading over his lines. Guests are busy finding their seats, among them being fellow pro heroes, Fatgum’s and Haruko’s family and friends outside of the hero industry, and some UA students Keigo recognizes. 
He instantly sees Ejriou Kirishima and Tamaji Amijiki, Fatgum’s prodigies. He winks at the two UA students, earning an overly-excited wave from Kiri in his suit while Tamaki looks like he wishes he wasn’t there. Off to the side near the punch bowls, Hitoshi Shinso is kneeling in front of little Eri, Aizawa and Mic’s daughter, fixing up her dress littered with blooming flowers as she giggles. 
“Let’s get a drink,” Keigo suggests to Sakura to which she agrees.
As they walk over to the mini bar for water or maybe a soda, Keigo is immediately ambushed by his friends. Yu aka Mt. Lady, in her normal form, practically runs over to them in a flowing purple dress and her creamy blonde hair tied in a French braid. “Heeey!” she sing-songs, already tipsy with champagne. “There’s my favorite couple!” 
She throws herself at them, nearly breaking Keigo’s neck. “You say that about every couple you know, Yu,” he grunts while Sakura giggles, hugging her back. Yu pouts. “Well, I can’t help that I love love!” she protests. “Baby, tell Keigo to stop bullying me!” 
On cue, Nemuri aka Ms. Midnight steps into the scene with her beautiful and busty self. She decided to go for a nice cobalt blue dress with a slit at the thigh while her hair is pinned back into a curly updo. “My, look at the sights here,” she purrs playfully. She gives Sakura a hug. “You look absolutely amazing, darling. That dress goes with your hair so much.”
Sakura blushes, happy with the compliment. Nemuri smirks at Keigo, a hand on her hip. “Hawks, you’re looking quite dapper today. I’m not used to seeing you without your goggles or a box of fried chicken in your hands.” 
Keigo raises a brow at her, wondering why she wants violence so early in the day. “And I see you ditched the kinky collar for today’s festivities,” he retorts, nodding at her neck. “That’s sayin’ you didn’t bring it with you.” 
“Oh, we did!” Yu says a little too loudly. “Nemuri insisted we take it with us for later.”
Nemuri’s face turns as pink as Sakura’s hair while Keigo gives a big, bellied laugh, leaning back as he does. “Alright, alright, take that horny shit somewhere else,” Rumi grumbles, stepping over to shoo the two women away. Yu sticks her tongue out at the bunny hero, but leaves with Nemuri anyway, a hand on her waist. 
Rumi eyes Keigo and Sakura, a playful smirk on her face adorned in soft makeup for the occasion. She went for a one-shouldered red dress that stops just above her muscular thighs and pumps that make her much taller than Keigo. But even with her normal height, the girl is an amazon. “Well, fancy seein’ you two here.” 
“You too, cottontail,” Keigo replies, giving her that same sly smirk. “Where’s your date at?” Rumi gets a devilish look in her eyes as she sips her glass of champagne. “Oh, I’ll be findin’ her after the reception.”  
“And you call Yu and Nemuri horny,” he scoffs. Sakura suddenly taps him on the shoulder, pointing at a nearby outhouse. “Keigo, I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick before the reception starts.”
He nods and they share a short kiss before he watches her walk away. Rumi watches her too before her eyes tick back to Keigo. “She looks really nice today. Surprised you even let us see her.” She chuckles despite Keigo’s eye roll. “Y’know, for a while, I thought she wasn’t real.” 
“Gimme that,” Keigo grumbles, snatching the champagne glass from her and taking a sip. He wasn’t planning on drinking so early, but he might have to. “Anyway, where’s your roomie? If you’re here, ain’t she here too?” 
He looks for you among the guests, figuring you might be with Rei. “She’s runnin’ late for some reason,” Rumi explains. Keigo scowls at her in confusion and she passively shrugs, crossing her muscular arms. “Kenji came over when I left early to help with decorations, I dunno. Maybe call the girl and find out.” 
Keigo almost doesn’t want to. He has a feeling you’re late for a reason. Maybe you and Rei are fighting? Does he have to pull up and beat some ass, he wonders? Before he can contemplate calling, one of the wedding organizers hurries over to him and Rumi.
“There you are!” he sighs in relief. “We’re gonna start setting up for the reception, so we need you with the other best men.” Keigo winks at Rumi before sauntering off. “Duty calls!” he yells to her over his shoulder. “See you later on the floor!” 
Quickly, he is whisked over to the reception area where most of the guests are seated and the band is readying to begin. When he shows up with the other best men, most of them being pros that he knows, he claps his hand with Fatgum and congratulates him on soon being a married man. Fatgum, in his suit, nearly cries (the man is very emotional).
Afterward, Keigo stands at his post with the others while the bridesmaids face them from the other side where Haruko will soon be. 
Taking advantage of the freedom he has now, he slides his phone out of his pocket and calls you. You don’t pick up on the first ring which is unusual for you unless you’re at work. So Keigo immediately knows something is up. 
You pick up on the fourth ring. “Hello?” you answer, sounding less than pleased.
Hearing your biting tone, warning alarms begin to blare in Keigo’s head. Maybe he really will have to beat some ass. Where’s Dabi at today? Maybe he’d be able to help Keigo bust some ass if he the pro can successfully bribe the warden. 
“Hey, where you at?” he whispers into the phone before he can get any other murderous thoughts. “The wedding is starting soon.”
You sigh in frustration, making his stomach roil anxiously. “Rei lost his wallet, so we’re gonna be late,” you explain in a huff. “Just save me a seat at the bar when it ends. And take pictures.” 
Though Keigo is disappointed in the outcome of things so far, he promises to do so and hangs up before the wedding can start. It does so about fifteen minutes later. As soon as the band begins their rendition of “Here Comes the Bride”, Keigo’s stomach drops and he stands rigid as if he’s the one getting married.
Fatgum stands with the priest, his hands folded behind his back and trying to appear calm, but Keigo can see that the man is sweating through his suit. Eri comes out in her cute, frilly dress and sprinkles flowers along the floor before she’s scooped up by Aizawa and sat down in one of the guest chairs. 
Then, finally, Haruko enters with her father, locked arm in arm. The guests stand and turn to the bridge, watching as she waltzes in wearing her flowing white dress adorned in lace and holding a bouquet of red roses that match her waves of red hair. She walks slowly, taking her sweet time. 
But as she does, Keigo notices something: while everyone’s eyes are on her, including Fatgum, her eyes stay strictly transfixed on her soon-to-be-husband, her stare never breaking for a moment. It is as if he is the only one in the room to her. No one else matters. “Isn’t she beautiful?” he hears one of the guests whisper to the other. 
He blinks and suddenly, he is not looking at Haruko in her wedding dress, but at you. You stand there, glowing and radiant in white, your pretty brown eyes staring up at him as you stand together in front of the priest, ready to become one. 
‘Yeah,’ he thinks to himself with a soft smile. ‘She absolutely is.’ 
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beinggayisreallyexpensive · 2 years ago
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I had weird and unique stress dreams ALL NIGHT. In one I was about to miss a train and I had a short window of time to rebook the ticket for another date and the site kept crashing on my phone. Yes I was literally dreaming about tech issues. At one point I got the new ticket booked for a later time but the people I was with still made me miss it AGAIN. Then there was another dream where I FORGOT my childhood dog on a fucking bus stop bench?? But my brother found her and brought her to me (in a reusable shopping bag for some reason? Lmao). She was also a puppy in my dream. I also was in my old neighbourhood and walked into my old building at one point but I didnt go up into my old apartment. Was at least nice to not have moving/packing dreams or that one where I'm going up a really steep hill for once.
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bone-apple-teeths · 1 year ago
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I rear ended an old pickup truck that was near stopped going about 60 miles per hour and of course my little honda accord was decimated (like we found my alternator and bits of my engine flung several yards from the crash site across the highway). I walked way with a headache from face planting the airbag and my sternum was displaced due to my seatbelt locking. My only injuries were from safety devices that kept me from getting hurt much, much more badly than I would have otherwise.
My car was a 2016. The truck I hit was a late 90s model and the guy got to drive away with nothing but a broken tailgate and back bumper. There are engineering- and physics-backed reasons that we build cars a certain way. Trying to innovate something "new" or "different" just for the sake of originality instead of making improvements to the original thing that already works very well is usually a bad idea.
Also, wear your fucking seatbelt.
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olderjodijournals · 24 days ago
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SUNDAY, JANUARY 1, 2012 With the exception of some lost sleep, the hot water tank breaking turned out to be a blessing in disguise. It started with a slow drip but then it started leaking big time sometime during the night. Once again that same area of the bedroom by the wall where the bathroom sink pipe was leaking was wet and stained and I almost considered waking Tom up, but said, nah. As long as none of our stuff got damaged, to hell with pesky Jesse’s baseboards and carpet.
I crashed around 6am and about 4 hours later awoke to them working on it. It turns out that Jesse had bought a brand-new water tank because he thought something was wrong with his own tank, though the problem turned out to be something else. So it worked out great for us not only because we won’t have to wait till Tuesday for him to get a new one, but because we went from a noisy 20-gallon tank where the hot water would be gone in 10 minutes or less to a quiet 35-gallon tank. Now I can take the 15 to 20-minute showers I like to take and this tank doesn’t “popcorn.” The other one was so ancient and made popping sounds when it would fire up. It had probably been in there for about 20 years or so. This new one barely fits in the cubbyhole the tank goes in, but thankfully they managed to get it in. And to kill the beehive that was in there as well. Yeah, we knew by all the yellow jackets hanging around that there had to be a hive somewhere close by.
What sucks is that Jesse will probably want to come down tomorrow to check on things and fuck with my sleep then as well. They left the door open to it to air out the wet walls and floor. It’s pretty dry out, so that’ll help. At the rate we’re going it’s never going to rain here again. We’re going to come close to hitting 70°. It saves us propane in the afternoons because the heater doesn’t usually need to run for about 4-6 hours during the daytime.
Still setting up and configuring my little world in OSX and converting this and that. It takes some serious getting used to. I hate all the other word processors I’ve tried so far because they don’t do everything I want them to do, so we’re going to set up a way to use my old word processor without actually running Windows. It’s called Virtual Box. You set it up to think it’s running a whole separate computer within your computer.
MONDAY, JANUARY 2, 2012 Something hasn’t wanted me to sleep very well so far this year. It seems I kept waking up constantly. A tickle in my throat caused a coughing fit. The smell of food cooking woke me up. I also woke up just because. What was weird was that Jesse didn’t wake me up when he came down to make sure the new hot water tank was working out ok, and it is.
Had to sleep longer to make up for all the waking up I did along the way, but once I got up for good I was good to go. Except for a slight cough I’m fully over my cold or flu or whatever it was I had and was able to do a complete workout now that my body’s energy isn’t being used to fight the illness. After I was done I felt refreshed instead of drained. This was the first time I’ve been sick since 2007. Before that, I was sick in 2000, and before that in 1997. I hope it will be many years before I’m sick again!
We’re just about done setting up house in OSX. Still gotta tweak and fine-tune a few more things. The conversion and configuring was a huge job but will hopefully be well worth it in the end. If Tom, who’s been using OSX for years says it is, then it is. It’s a bit of a pain using my old word processor in a virtual box since I had to reconfigure everything but it sure beats OpenOffice and AbiWord. I may one day buy the latest version of WinWord which now has an application for Macs.
Tom showed and explained to me that copying/pasting pictures from sites isn’t a safe way to go about it and that I should use the codes only because the codes only contain the pictures themselves. But if you copy the whole thing it can have viruses and other junk embedded in it which may very well be how I got infected with Windows. These infections aren’t as likely in OSX, but not impossible so I guess I’ll have to be more careful about how I do things online.
No “jobless” or other bad dreams to warn of impending trouble ahead. Instead, I’ve been having more dreams of living in newer, bigger places so hopefully that’s a good sign. It’s a damn good feeling to know that if the car suddenly completely died and was totally unfixable, we could buy another car. It’d be an old used piece of shit, but we’d still have a car and Tom could still get to work. That possibility alone of the car possibly dying, even if it was unlikely, was a huge stress for a long time.
No views from the troll for two days. Her sister just popped a kid and she last said she wasn’t getting along with her mother, so hopefully they’ll both be too busy to bother with me for a good long while and then hopefully Molly will take up new obsessions and go stalk someone else. As Aly said, while the mother can seem a bit scary with her threats, she wouldn’t sweat over her because it’s only natural, right or wrong, for a mother to defend her kid. No mother wants to believe their kid simply can’t make/keep friends.
Aly, like me, realized the few days she gave her some time and attention was a waste and that she’ll never change, so she’s silently bowed out of her life and will also be doing her best to block and ignore her whenever possible. I knew Molly had a thing for trying to “make” people like her, but I didn’t realize she was so damn needy with her constant cries for help with this person and with that person who she either can’t get along with or who’s been trying to avoid her for the same reasons most people do. “Help me!” is a constant plea from her. And “I feel like I have no one to talk to. No one cares. No one wants to comment on my blogs.” She even said this when I was giving her attention and comments several times a day. There’s just no pleasing this girl. That’s how she first snared Aly in; by begging for help and coming off as desperate, helpless, and doomed. I think that’s how she reaches out to just about everybody. That’s what she did with me when she first contacted me deciding that I would be a good one to talk to when she was supposedly raped by a male nurse. But I know that wasn’t all that was motivating her. It was my connection to others she knows that drove her to contact me. Molly likes to come off as a damsel in distress and she likes to pick fights, make enemies, and then stalk those who come to loathe her.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 3, 2012 It’s been almost a month now since I heard from Maliheh. What the hell is going on with her? Can she really be that busy that she can’t at least send a quick email once a week instead of once a month???
Sold a copy of Evil Amongst the Evergreens in the UK today. :)
Nothing broke around here today, Tom had a busy but ok day at work, and I’m definitely climbing back in the Windows once again. But not until we order Win7 this weekend and upgrade to a safer, newer version of it. I just can’t get used to OSX and we’re having enough problems with it anyway – keyboard dying, mouse dying, etc. It totally sucks shit!
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 4, 2012 Some people have asked about what I’m writing at the moment, so I thought I’d let people in on my next book. To make a character stand out we authors sometimes give them unique traits. One of my lead character’s noses sometimes twitches like a rabbit and as people notice this along the way, they nickname her Bunny Nose. So that’s how the book got its title. I had mapped out this plot in a half-assed sort of way before I “split” with Nane and it will definitely be the very last role-inspired story she’ll ever be in. It will also probably be the last story to take place in Germany that I’ll ever write. But that’s only if I can get myself to write it. It’s not that I haven’t got enough ideas for it (the plot is simple yet a little more intricate than my last couple of books). It’s just that I haven’t been in the mood to write much lately. Maybe when I’m on days I’ll work on it. Unfortunately, I have to work around my sometimes noisy landlord’s schedule. Because of all the loud vehicles I often hear up there I have sound machines going during the daytime. I can write and read and do things like that with the sound machine, but I can’t watch movies that way. So nights are usually reserved for movies while the days are for writing.
I realized I don’t have to work out to music only. I wouldn’t want to work out to movies since the sound of the treadmill running would make it hard to hear. This newer louder heater is bad enough. But I can set the Kindle on the treadmill and read while I work out if I want to so I might try that for my next workout. I’ve got 15% left of The White Angel Murder.
I’ve noticed that with half-hour workouts on the treadmill 5 days a week, I can maintain my weight on 1500 calories a day. That’s the perfect amount of calories for me. 1000 leaves me too hungry, 2000 too stuffed. But I’m still a fatty even though I do look quite fit. I wonder, though… could I lose weight if I upped my time to an hour and still have 1500 calories? 1500 still seems like a bit much for me to lose on even if I worked out 5 hours a day, but I may try it sometime.
The part of the floor that got wet from the hot water tank leaking smells kind of musty so I sprayed perfume on it and then sprinkled powder over it. Hopefully, that will absorb any leftover moisture and smells.
We’re still setting record highs with record dryness. It’s barely rained a dozen times since last May. I’ve had to sleep with the fan on low because it gets close to 80º inside here in the afternoons.
Evie now has a Facebook account. I sent her the link to both my books, LOL, knowing I’m not going to get a reply, but that it’ll spark some talk and curiosity. You never know; maybe even a sale or two. The last time I sent David an unrated, unreviewed book link. But Evie gets to have two 4-star book links with great reviews, thanks to Eileen and Mitch.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 5, 2012 When I was going to bed I did my usual prayers to help guard against financial and health problems. Still not sure it does me any good, but can it hurt? I also asked for a sign in my dreams as to whether or not we’re moving and where to. I ended up having an interesting dream, alright. While no particular state was ever mentioned and no landscape of any kind was visible to get a sense of what kind of climate the dream took place in, we definitely moved long-distance. This I know because in the dream I giggled to myself thinking what experts we’ve become at that sort of thing and here we go again, jobless and homeless till we land on our feet somewhere after making the big leap.
Then some guy was showing us rentals. I don’t know if we knew him or not, but I don’t think we did. He pointed out that there was this particular string of rentals that celebrities rented from time to time. I was just about to ask how the hell we could afford to rent something they could afford when he explained it with just one word. I don’t remember the word but it all made sense to me in the dream how we could afford it. I just wanted to rent what was right for us and not because celebs rented it, too.
Once I was awake enough to analyze the dream I came to 4 possible conclusions and was no closer to knowing what the future holds as far as moving goes and where to. I figure the dream could mean that a long-distance move is many years away, or we could be sitting on a bunch of money I don’t know about to get us moved sooner, or something’s just playing with me, or it means absolutely nothing at all. So it’s nice that I got the sign I asked for. I just wish I knew what it meant if it meant anything at all. How should I interpret it?
Makes me wonder, though, if those other rental dreams I had that I assumed were in this area could’ve been elsewhere.
So the troll is capable of threats after all. After a wonderful 5-day absence from my blog, she wrote in her own blog that she just got home from the hospital after threatening to kill herself and her parents, she feels better now, she’s back on medication, and she misses talking to Alison.
I wish she would off mommy and daddy if she’s not going to be kind enough to do herself in. That way she would go bye-bye for a lot longer than 5 days (she spent over an hour on my blog today) and I wouldn’t have to worry about that scary mother of hers who has got to be the most intimidating person I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting online. Does she want to be so protective of her now? Now that she’s threatened her? Really, does she want to threaten to file suit now?
She’s still talking about Aly and why she hasn’t heard from her. She also said it was funny how a few people started talking to her for a while after being mean to her for so long. Of course being “mean” means trying to avoid her and telling her to go away and stay away, not wanting anything to do with her.
FRIDAY, JANUARY 6, 2012 I wasn’t going to do another entry today, but since I’m usually busier on weekends, I thought I would bitch and complain about phones and computers. I love ‘em and I hate ‘em!
I went to call my folks to thank them for the $50 Red Lobster GC they sent but the phone would only sound through the computer and not the phone itself. My parents might also be having problems on their end because I got nothing but static and screeching when either Dad or the machine picked up. It wasn’t clear enough to tell which it was.
As for computers – I’m still trying to get used to this Mac crap and not liking it very much either. Still not sure I want to spend money to upgrade to Windows 7 right now because we really want to save for the move, wherever that may be. OSX isn’t as fun as Windows, but it’s not impossible to use or completely intolerable.
The earbuds I was using for watching movies on the computer broke and I’m so determined to save money that I’d rather use my headphones than buy new ones even though they don’t cost much. I use the headphones when Tom’s sleeping because this new heater is so loud I have to really crank the volume up. Even with the door shut it’s loud. Sure works well, though.
Whoever’s in here next is going to have it easy as far as things breaking go because, by the time we get out of here, everything will have been replaced or upgraded.
When I was working out earlier, I glanced over at Tom, who can sleep through anything, and studied his sleeping form. I had to suppress a giggle at the thought of him magically becoming someone I’m not at all fond of just long enough for me to run up and stick a blaring earbud in their ear, LOL. The iPod’s earbuds still work just fine. Leave it to his evil wife to have that kind of fantasy. :)
Speaking of fantasies involving the same sex, I still miss hearing from Nane and Barbara but I know I’m better off not hearing from them.
I’m disappointed that my second book isn’t selling very well so far. I was hoping more people would actually buy it instead of just saying, “I’ll check it out.”
They had Tom sign a form at work giving the temp company permission to disclose his background check with a company that the company he’s working for wants to do business with so he can access their computer. Hopefully, this is a good sign that they’re not going to let him go anytime soon.
Last night I got the sign I asked for in my dreams. Now all I need is a time frame. Well, I don’t need one. I’d just like to have one. I’m naturally curious.
Tom and I may go to Walmart tomorrow just for fun and for variety since it’s been a while since we’ve been there. We kind of miss it. We don’t like the store and the crowds, but we like the selection and the prices. Walmart is sort of like computers; can’t live with them, can’t live without them. Hopefully, we’ll go early enough to beat the crowds, though that may mean having to deal with tons of boxes in the aisles instead.
SATURDAY, JANUARY 7, 2012 I prayed for whatever was up there to show me a time frame in my dreams of when and if we may be moving. Instead, I just had another dream about moving. At least they’re coming and I hope they’re a sign of good things to come. I feel like there are hidden messages in some of them if only I learn how to read them.
There were a few things I didn’t like about last night’s dream. For one my hair was down to my waist. If that’s any sign of a time frame, well, my hair is about two years from being waist-length again. It grows fast and I may be short, but my hair is still barely past my shoulders.
The dream started with me telling Tom that I had a dream that we got a place with a pool toward the back right side of the house. It was enclosed by a black iron rail fence and was behind the end of the driveway.
Then we went to an “open house” party of sorts where all the people in the adult community we were hoping to rent a place in were out and about in the streets and in their yards dancing to country music. Some houses seemed to have two stories and I watched some couples dancing on their balconies. I was glad to see that they were all older people being in an adult community and all that but hoped that they wouldn’t make these parties a regular thing if we were going to live there.
A short heavy blond woman admired my long hair and seemed to be attracted to me, though I pretended not to notice.
The other thing I didn’t like about the dream was my being worried that they may discover Tom was just a temp. I hope this isn’t suggesting he’ll still be a temp next summer when he turns 55, but I’d rather he keep working as a temp than be laid off.
I don’t know if we were able to rent a place there in the end or not, but I was given a little booklet about the community and what it had to offer. Apparently, there was a community pool. I wanted to see if I could find a picture of it and see if it was toward the right of the house to get a sense of whether or not the dream I had in the dream could mean anything, but the page that pictured the pool had been torn out of the booklet.
Later…
I called my parents now that we configured the phone properly on the Mac. As I was hoping it would be the case, Dad answered instead of Mom. Mom was at the store. He told me he was in the hospital the last few days and was just released yesterday. I was sorry to hear this too, and I feel so frustrated and helpless being so far away. On the other hand, there’d be nothing I could do to stop him from aging and to fix his heart and lungs if I lived down the street from him. I still wish I could be there just long enough to give him a hug at times!
I thanked him for the gift cards and we touched base before some nurse came to the house. I just wonder how much longer he’s got. And why didn’t I have any bad dreams about him upon going into the hospital? I’ve had bad dreams about others right before bad things happened to them. Maybe it’s because it’s simply part of aging and all that and while I don’t like it any more than most of us do, my mind has simply come to accept this sad fact of life in which no one is exempt.
I’d love to write more, but it’s been a long and tiring day. A fun day other than learning my dad was ill, but a tiring one just the same. I’m going to just go make myself comfortable in bed with the Kindle and read till I fall asleep.
SUNDAY, JANUARY 8, 2012 I’m going to take a break from emailing journal entries to Maliheh because I just don’t know what’s going on with her. This is the longest I’ve gone without hearing from her. She’s a very blunt, honest and outspoken person and since she has insisted it’s not me, I have to believe that and that she’d tell me if she wanted to dump me for any reason or was mad at me. Therefore, something must be going on with her and I don’t know if she’s been getting my messages or has had the time to read them. I will wait till I hear from her, then I’ll catch her up to date on what’s been going on with me. I’ve asked her numerous times to reply to my messages and let me know what’s up with her, but haven’t heard back. This isn’t like her. Something’s going on. Just wish I knew what!
Aside from learning that Dad was in the hospital, yesterday was a fun day at Walmart. As always, I can never resist shiny things and good smells, so I got some more of those scented body mists (Enchanted Forest & White Gardenia) and a gorgeous necklace with matching earrings. Got a ring similar to my pink one too, only this one is lavender and in a smaller size. I wanted a pinky ring, but they didn’t go under size 5. I’ll have to get a kid’s ring to fit my pinkies. Even the glitter bangle I liked slipped right off my wrist that’s how damn small I am.
I also did get new earbuds after all. They’re pink and the kind I can insert in both ears.
I know we should be saving but one has to have fun every now and then and have a life.
I even got some new workout equipment that will allow me to work my arms more and with a wider range of exercises. I can even work my legs with this thing. Running doesn’t necessarily work the inner and outer thigh muscles very well. I bought a trio of resistance bands. They’re similar to my others only longer so I can work both biceps at once, for example. The gray one equates to 5 pounds, the red to 10, and the black to 15. When used all together it’s 30 pounds.
Instead of getting Windows 7, we decided to just get Word for Mac for now. We’re going to order it online.
Time to bitch about Molly, but this can’t go online, of course. Well, she’s the craziest I’ve ever known her to be. Totally at the worst I’ve ever seen her behave since she first latched onto me in 2009. Paranoid, delusional, accusatory and very angry. She’s leaving messages on profiles of people I’ve never heard of saying, “Why are you talking about me to ratgirl?”
But they’re not! I’ve never even heard of the users she’s accusing of talking about her with me.
Her current status says: Jodi shut your trashy mouth.
But I haven’t said one single thing about her on any site I use and I even told Andy not to mention her. Hmm… not sure if this insanity is more funny or creepy.
Now it’s: I dislike ratgirl.
One status update that was funny was when she said she went into her parents’ bedroom at 5:30 this morning and laid her head down on her mother’s leg who has a very bad cold. Quite a coincidence that she gets sick after pissing me off again, huh?
Anyway, while I do admit I read her blog at times just to laugh at the craziness of it, I really wish she would kill herself or that someone else would do it for her. I really fear the rest of my online life is going to be forced to have her included in it. I can’t post links just anywhere, I can’t allow for anonymous comments or anything like that which may open me up to more harassment from this loony tune. It never ends! I just get a few days off here and there. Dani said she went through this with her years ago, then she left her alone for two years, and now she’s back at it in full swing. Wish she would give me two years off!
One blog post which was directed to me as a “letter” said I should leave her alone. After all, why would I want to bother with someone who’s just 28 years old?
But I’m not doing anything to her! I’m not mentioning her in my journal, not contacting her – nothing. Anything I’ve said about her has been done in private only. And what’s with the 28-year-old thing? Oh, but it’s no problem for her to keep following a 46-year-old, right? It’s only okay to harass those that are older, is that it?
Alison said she’s been hospitalized before for threatening suicide and her parents (which she also recently stated isn’t the answer), but how the hell one gets out of the hospital after just 5 days for making threats like that is beyond us. Why hasn’t she been committed or had tests run on her? The doctor is probably unaware of her online obsessions and behavior, and of course her enabling parents continue to make one excuse after another for their darling daughter.
She’s not even sleeping anymore, so it seems. Been up round the clock blogging about her misguided and senseless rage, mostly towards Alison, her parents and her ex-boyfriend. One minute she wants to kiss and make up, the next she’s “better off without them.”
It isn’t just her erratic moods and clinginess that drive people crazy, but her warped sense of reality and blatant lies as well. She gets mad at people for things they didn’t even do or that normal people wouldn’t get mad at. You never know if asking her what her weather is like is going to piss her off! Even she admits the slightest thing gets her fuming. And to say she’s as bad as a bad liar can possibly get is an understatement! Her lies are so damn obvious that I don’t know who the hell she thinks she’s kidding. Certainly not most people.
She’s mentioned the possibility of going to a group home. She needs to go somewhere but most of all she needs to be banned from joining social sites since she just can’t leave people alone. All she does is piss them off so she can have fun stalking them and trying to “win” them back over. It’s a sick, twisted game to her.
She’s also mentioned the Caesar case. This is the guy who she claims raped her, but as Aly said, she wouldn’t trust anything she says about that. Besides, her story has changed numerous times. According to Aly, Caesar was a nurse who visited her grandparents in the retirement community they lived in. She liked him and he flirted with her. Then one night things went a little too far. But as Aly said, Caesar is supposedly still on the loose and she doesn’t get why the parents haven’t done anything to have him apprehended or Molly avenged if something serious really happened. Aly agrees it was probably just a case of assault at its worst. All Molly said was something about telling the DA she was afraid to testify for fear of him harming her and her family. I wish he would!
Aly said her mother said to just ignore her and she’d eventually go away, but as we both know, ignorance isn’t bliss in the Molly case. Yes, the less we mention her the less we hear from her, but that doesn’t make her go away altogether. And so I came up with an idea and a suggestion for Alison. I told her it’s great that she didn’t die of cancer for real, but who says she can’t die of it at least for Molly’s sake? Yeah, as in faking her own death, LOL! Kim and I could maybe blog that Dustin told us she died or something.
Aly got quite a kick out of this idea, but worries the troll may still have her parents’ number and the last thing she wants are her parents getting a call from this batshit crazy nutty sicko in regards to it. I can understand her concern, but at this point, I’d worry more about myself than my parents. Or maybe she can warn her parents up front about what she plans to do.
Ignoring her simply doesn’t work, but as crazy as she’s driving people she’s well within the law. Even if she wasn’t, after being a victim of corrupt law enforcement officials, I could never reach out to the law and trust them anyway.
Later…
Geez, now she’s posting things like “I feel hurt and betrayed by Alison,” on random profiles, some of which are minors.
She can’t even watch a movie without whining about how horrible her life is. That oughta tell you something right there about someone who can’t even sit through a whole movie without bitching about friends they’ve lost forever.
What’s got me pissed off is that even though I’ve got her blocked from leaving messages and making comments, she can still vote on posts. She’s been down-voting a lot of my posts as well as Alison’s and Kim’s. This pisses me off more than her trashing me with lies in her blog because it makes me feel like she’s controlling my stuff. Her blogs are her blogs, but mine are mine, and I feel like she’s got a hold on me of sorts by having the power to vote on them. I can delete unwanted comments and messages, but I can’t undo her votes.
She’s spent almost 9 hours on my blog so far today.
Tammy apparently read my blog. Not only did TIP say so but she left a comment on Facebook in regards to the entry about Dad being in the hospital saying she was sorry she didn’t tell me about it and that she should have. No worries, I told her. I find out about things sooner or later either way.
“I will be 50 in less than 4 months,” ugly Lori left on my wall.
So? What does she want for it, a medal? Really, I am so sick of an unlimited supply of attention from crazies and uglies! Am I really that crazy and ugly myself? Except for Alison, what do these people see in me that attracts them so? Why do the hot Nanes and Malihehs of the world keep their distance along with the saner ones? What is it about me that scares them off? Or am I simply overreacting and taking something personally that most people experience in life?
MONDAY, JANUARY 9, 2012 Up and awake now and so is the troll. It seems to only sleep 3 hours a day, claiming it’s having flashbacks to the day she was supposedly attacked and wondering when there’ll ever be justice for what happened to her. That’s what I wonder as far as those in Arizona go.
Before being funny farmed she bitched that she was sleeping 12-15 hours a day. I wish she’d sleep 24 hours a day! She might’ve gone back to bed, though. She wouldn’t go 44 minutes without viewing my blog if she were home and awake.
A part of me wants to share the parts of yesterday’s entry where I talk about her, but another part doesn’t want to get her going again and fuel the fire when she does that herself enough of the time as it is for no reason and without provocation.
I asked Tammy if she’s hit menopause yet. The lucky bitch had a full hysterectomy in 2005. Right now she’s dealing with pain management doctors, I guess, for a better quality of life. She also says she’s glad we’re happy, she misses me and wishes I could visit, and has read some of my writing or journals, thinks they’re great, and is something she might look into. Compliments like that make the idea of dumping her a bit harder. I’m surprised she’d want to look into writing, though. I just never thought she had any interest in that any more than learning other languages.
It’s been so warm in here in the afternoons that I’ve had to run fans and open windows for a little while. I assumed we’d have a wetter spring to make up for the fall and winter drought, but at the rate we’re going I’m not so sure about that. It seems the whole country is having an easier winter.
Haven’t had any dreams about moving for the last two nights, and while I’m not really sure what my dreams were about, it seems they had a negative undertone to them. Nothing about money or jobs, but it seemed like I may have been running from something or someone.
Okay, time to go post an entry for her to vote down.
Later…
She did vote me down but others, including myself and the bogus account I created, voted me back up:) I’m picking on her from that other account too, and down-voting her in return. I’m trying to drive her off Thoughts and make her feel as unwelcome as she claims she feels, but she’s too obsessive to give up that easily. Hopefully, I can drive her crazy enough in ways that won’t get “Kate” in any trouble.
Later…
NOTE: This was a scam, as in fake email, fake detective, fake everything. Unfortunately, because I was legally screwed over in the past, I let my paranoia get the better of me. Yes, the same people that screwed me over in the past were likely involved, but there was no "case" made against me. This farce stemmed from me sending them some emails in which I said nothing they wanted to hear.
I wish I could say an engine-gunning landlord who seems to spend more and more time gunning his vehicles than riding them was my worst of problems, and no, Tom hasn’t been laid off or anything like that. But an Arizona PD made a case against me. So much for praying to God not to beat me over the head with my perps, old perps or not. It’s like He put them on this earth just to torture me! And this is right after I have dreams about running from someone or something. My first thought when I awoke from the dream was the black pig for some reason. It was just a fleeting thought, but a thought nonetheless.
Oddly enough I’m not freaking out and having the runs like I did when Google first informed me they were snooping into my account (if it’s even real). And just maybe God will protect me this time around and my worst problem will be having a default warrant out on me that never amounts to anything. But if that warrant is for anything federal, I’m fucked and I may as well be in Arizona. Meaning, they can arrest me in any state if the charges are federal. If I knew it was a misdemeanor or non-federal then I wouldn’t worry.
The email was from a Det. Juan D in the Criminal Investigations Division saying a case had been made against me and to please contact him, but no information was given about the "case." The strange thing about it was that the email was not only sent to 3 of my email accounts, one of which hasn’t existed in years, and to Tom as well. It was also sent to what appears to be an invalid email as well as the pig that was involved in the last case and that O Group that held the contest for a grand of cash when we lived in Oregon. Tom said cops weren’t allowed to post their pics online in cases like that but after I entered I saw a picture of what I swear was the pig standing with his wife. After that, I contacted them, said who I was, and requested my name to be pulled from the contest. But what the hell do they have to do with anything???
I still think this has gotta be connected to the black bitch and the auto-sent blog posts, though I still don’t see how they can make a case out of that for spam or any kind of slander case. Nothing I’ve written isn’t already a matter of public information, nor did I write anything threatening or racist in any way short of expressing my opinion on reverse discrimination like a million others have done.
I didn’t want to forward the message to Tom, so I not only called him but sent him an email about it, though he got the same message. How rude of the pig to send it to 7 different addresses, but that’s just the pigs for you – can do no wrong/can do anything they want. Still, emailing Tom my two cents on the issue might’ve been a dumb idea if they were watching me. Then again, I probably would’ve had to be notified if they were reading my emails like Google had to notify me they were looking at my account.
It’s either got to be spam or slander they’re trying to nail me with if it’s not a scam of some kind. But how do you nail someone for spam that’s sent just a handful of messages as opposed to thousands? And how do you nail someone for slander when no last names are used and nothing I said wasn’t public info anyway? This makes me wonder if they’ve got something on me I don’t know about. Something they made up or altered. Like maybe they took the posts and added threats? Damn myself for ever sending them! Then again, the pigs should know to check for that unless they’re in on any alterations themselves. A non-white person’s word is automatically taken over a white person’s so that right there may cause them to skip looking into any wrongdoing on her part if this really has to do with her. I don’t see how it could be connected to the pig cuz he was in Phoenix. So was that O Group. I clearly remember looking at the address on the site when I thought I recognized the pig.
Tom called me back and said not to worry and that he’d find out what was going on when he got home and everything would be okay, and it’s likely just a scam.
Is it? Cuz I’m older now. I can’t handle jail like 12 years ago and even then it nearly killed me. But that was just the lack of sleep, cold showers, horrendous noise, inedible food and emotional stress. Now I can’t see without glasses which they’d never let me have. I also can’t go without lotion or lip balm of some kind, especially lip balm. Lastly, I now have an ear that is a regular problem and needs regular attention. Sorry, but they just won’t oil my ear in jail. Even if I could handle it, I won’t let myself be victimized by my perps all over again! I refuse to be humiliated like that all over again when my worst crime was daring to speak my mind in a legal and civilized way like a million other bloggers. If she didn’t want the entries (if that’s what this is about) all she had to do was mark them as spam. That’s what the “spam” button is for! And if it’s slander they’re trying to get me for, then somebody’s got a very guilty conscience somewhere. Why else would you worry about what people may say, especially if no last names are used? That’s why I wonder if something more is going on.
I don’t know if having the internet in Jesse’s name is a good thing or not. The thought of the pigs coming here is bad enough, but what if they get him involved? Then what? I would still think they could get both our addresses if they really want to. Cops wanting to talk to me and sending subpoenas isn’t my worst fear. It’s being sued or extradited. Whether or not I could handle jail itself, we can’t afford to have me extradited! And we also can’t afford any probation fees or to be sued! Tom said the pigs don’t get involved in lawsuits, so suing may not be likely, but I wonder if it would say something like “Federal Crimes Division” if it was federal. If it’s not federal or if it’s a misdemeanor then I’ve got nothing to worry about since I’m not in Arizona. It was a government email but it probably is for all pigs whether they’re investigating petty misdemeanors or murder.
The shitty thing is that whatever it is they’ve got, real, imagined or altered, it’s almost guaranteed to be a no-win situation for me. Not that I ever plan to go to court willingly, but if they’ve got a case on you, they’ve got a case on you. Period. Very seldom does anyone walk from it with just a slap on the wrist unless it’s something like petty phone calls like back East. No one gets off easy in Arizona and when a perp plays victim that isn’t white, that’s guaranteed to sink your ass right there. In other words, no matter what I did or said in court, I would never win. Not many people go to court on criminal charges just to get off. Lawsuits may be hit or miss but not this type of thing. They wouldn’t make a case without being 100% sure they could hang me, just like I feared they wouldn’t be investigating me if they didn’t think they had a case to begin with.
The only options I can see that this shit leaves us with is:
Carry on as if we never got the emails and hope for the best.
Go underground from the net and just let my friends and family think I’m dead.
Kill myself. I would kill myself before I let them wreak havoc on my life all over again for God knows how many years and how much freedom and money.
Run, even though we don’t have the money to run with.
I’d rather be homeless on the streets in freezing cold weather than in jail. Really, I can’t go through that again!!! Not even if it was just down the street much less in Arizona of all states! I’m too old now and we can’t afford it. Even if we could, how will we ever have a life and get out of here if our money’s tied up in jail/probation costs? I refuse to spend money on them by buying a lawyer and I refuse to use a public defender who would only make sure we did everything wrong and that would hurt me. I know that if I’m ever backed into a corner I’m going to deny whatever it is they’re accusing me of, guilty or not. I should’ve listened to the bonds lady who told me never to plea bargain. I’m just really worried about it being federal or that they set me up somehow. Damn myself for ever contacting them! I should’ve known I wouldn’t get the same protection others get that do much, much worse than I ever have.
I don’t want to give up any of my life for these sickos! They took so much from me before that I don’t want to give them anything else to take. Not my time, not my freedom, not money, not my online life, not our possessions, etc. Just because it was legal doesn’t make what they did to me right in any way, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let them fuck me over again! They will not get me this time! They will NOT! I will not let them have me! Not me, not Tom, not any part of our lives! If I’m going to give up anything in this case I would rather just give up my life altogether and kill myself.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 10, 2012 I don’t feel nervous but I guess I must be. Why else would I have shit 6 times in 30 hours? One more and I’ll plug my ass up for a day or two with anti-run pills.
The last thing I want to hear is Jesse’s daily barrage of engine gunning, but I’d also like to hear my surroundings, not that I plan to open up for any pigs. Unless Jesse lets them in or they kick their way in here or they ambush us in the drive, I have nothing to say to them.
Perhaps another reason I feel so calm is that I already made up my mind years ago that I would never let them fuck me over again. They got me once and they’ll never get me again. So let them make their “cases.” Let there be a thousand warrants, but this time they simply can’t have me.
Do I also feel calm because my psychic side (no bad dreams last night) knows I have nothing to fear like Tom says as long as I go off the grid? Maybe so, but if I’m kidding myself it isn’t going to be because I was dumb and naïve enough to open the door for them. They’d have to drag me out of here. And I won’t be honest with them like I was in the past by admitting to sending the journals, thinking the truth would set me free, so to speak, and that they’d leave me alone if I just “leveled” with them and told them what they wanted to hear.
Going off the grid is something I have mixed emotions about. I feel like they’re controlling me in a sense and I’ll miss seeing who comes around my blog and some of the comments I’d get, but I like the idea of a year or so off from the troll. I’m only blogging on Facebook – oh no! I hear the ATV. I hope he’s not coming down to tell me the pigs were questioning him about me! I think I’ll just blare the sound machine after all. Unless he really does come down here, I don’t want to hear his shit all day. I can’t concentrate on my writing and it’s just plain annoying even when I’m not writing.
So anyway, I’m only blogging for Facebook friends and via email for Andy. I’ve stopped all emails to Maliheh because I don’t know what the hell’s going on with her. I don’t know if I’ve been dumped or if she’s got some kind of crisis going on in her life, and right now all I care about is keeping crises out of my own life. Every time we get up, something or someone seems determined to pull us back down and I’ll be damned if I’ll let life or the people in it drag us through the mud again.
I may still tweet and do Formspring with Andy, but no blogging for about a year unless these sickos and pigs force me to acknowledge them. Tom guarantees going off the grid will do the trick, but I don’t know about that. I sure hope he’s right cuz there have been other times I thought I was done hearing from the law just to later find out I wasn’t. I dread checking my email, but again, ignorance isn’t always bliss. So yeah, even if they don’t come here I expect a slew of threats will be next. Call-us-or-we’ll-arrest-you type of threats. Then again, I don’t know that they’d be willing to let me in on anything else they may have in store for me from here on out.
I was mistaken in saying the pig emailed Tom, but I sure would like to know what the black pig has to do with this and why he was emailed. And how did they miss some of my email accounts?
I tweeted that I was unable to log into my main blog and that’s what I told others as well so they wouldn’t be curious and so that it wouldn’t look suspicious if the pigs were watching my online activity. I hate the idea of giving Molly the satisfaction of thinking she ran me off the site, but to hell with her. This is more important.
I know in my heart and from a logical standpoint that I did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG other than to say things people don’t want to hear and that pissed them off, but I need to act like I’m guilty as sin to protect myself from Arizona and its crazy laws/punishments. Arizona is chock full of corrupt pigs, lawyers and judges. Well, the whole country is, but Arizona’s one of the worst. I know what it’s like to be legally railroaded and victimized and I will NEVER let it happen again. I will deny, deny, deny just like Tom said if I’m ever questioned. I will also say I thought it was a scam since it was sent to multiple emails and that I thought the person might’ve been in another country and didn’t speak very good English since they said they “worked” for the PD and not that they “work” for them.
Tom said the less I give them and the less I seem to exist, the better my chances are of not being hassled. But each thing I do can add up. In other words, they wanted to get me for earlier pranks I pulled on the blacks, but it wasn’t enough. It was the journal and the call that ultimately gave them enough ammo to screw me.
But what did I do between October and now to “give them enough ammo?” Or were they just planning a case all along?
That’s another thing that bugs me is the usage of the word “case,” along with the fact that this time the pig that’s on my tail is a Mexican. Figures, huh? But they’re the ones that usually go after us whities when someone plays the race card. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s been done, and God knows what evidence they may’ve falsified. Digital things can be easily manipulated. Tom said, though, that it’s just a police report from the statement the black bitch gave, but then why didn’t the pig say, “A complaint has been made against you” instead of “A case has been made against you?” That word really bugs me and I think they either already set a court date for what I guess would be an arraignment or they’re trying to find out my address to make a date and send me a summons. I don’t know if they need to know one’s address to do that, but I still think they could find out our addresses if they wanted to. And our phone numbers. I just hope that Tom’s right in saying that all he is is just a small-town cop trying to get me to put my foot in my mouth so they can nail me. The law mostly thrives on vengeance, not justice. If it were mostly about justice you wouldn’t have so many people getting off so easy or not even being charged in the first place.
We were talking about someone we knew in Oregon who had a full-blown criminal investigation going against them and had already reached the courts in which they were ordered but failed to appear. It was a felony, too. Anyway, Tom explained to me how they went off the grid and why they weren’t arrested and extradited being in another state and all that.
I just hope he’s right and that they’ll leave me the fuck alone! But I will say this… sometimes people can come to regret tapping one on the shoulder one too many times and forcing them to face them. Really, if you stick your hand in a hole in the ground, something just might bite you and make you sorry as hell:) Yes, sometimes fishing someone out of their little nest has a way of making us wish to hell we’d never gone fishing in the first place. And I promise that this time around I WILL make anyone responsible for turning my life upside down, should that happen in a legal way or not, sorry they were ever even born. I am, however, determined to do all I can to see to it that it doesn’t come to that but yes, I will kill for my freedom and I will die for my enemies at this point. Had I handled these people as I should have from the get-go things never would’ve snowballed and gotten so damn out of control! But I was too “nice” and “cooperative” and definitely naïve in some ways to stop the mountain from forming from the molehill. I just hope that for everyone’s sake, I don’t become an obsession to the pigs. I am white, like it or not, she’s black, and unfortunately there is history there.
Later…
I called my parents, wanting to see if Dad was feeling better. I’ve been concerned about him. Again, I know there’s nothing I could do from afar or even as his neighbor, but that still doesn’t mean I don’t care and worry about what’s going on. Fortunately, Dad himself answered. Ma was at the store. He said he was feeling better and he sounded it, too. Last time he sounded a bit winded.
He said he just finished my book and that it was good. Wow! That’s not only quite a compliment but I wasn’t sure he’d get through it, sick or not, LOL.
Why can’t we have a landlord that likes to do nothing but sit on his ass inside his house all the time? This isn’t the city for God’s sake! Yet nearly every day these woods are filled with the sounds of engine gunning, loud vehicles and chainsaws. I’m really getting sick of the daytime noise around here. I wish it would rain this guy indoors! But we’re having a serious drought. It hasn’t rained but maybe a dozen times since last May and I’m beginning to wonder if it ever will again. The 5-cast says the same thing it’s said for a while now – sunny and 60s. It gets down in the 30s at night, though, so it’s pretty cold then.
Been having congestion and it was more noticeable this morning for some reason. I don’t think I’ve been getting too carried away with my love of incense, but I’ll take a break from burning any for a while. After all, this shitbox is only 500 square feet.
I’ve been hit with writer’s block and hope to pull out of it this week and get back to work on my current book. It’s not that I don’t have enough ideas for the story; I just can’t focus at times. Like most writers, we have our cycles and these blocks tend to come in waves where we’re on a roll for a while, then we don’t write, and back and forth. I’m only consistent with my journal because that doesn’t take as much thinking. Also, when you have ADHD it can make it hard to concentrate when your efficient but noisy landlord starts gunning and running loud vehicles or you’re suddenly thinking of other things.
Like hoping things will continue running smoothly. Things were so bad for so long that I admit I’m not used to them going well for more than 5 minutes. But it’s now been a few months and I hope it will last while I fear it won’t. I try to suppress these fears, however, for our fears sometimes have a way of manifesting themselves if we dwell on them too much.
“Kate” was doing a fine job of pissing off and even making the troll rather anxious yesterday to the point that I thought she just might leave Thoughts after all. Instead, she just ran poor Aly off before I went off the grid. She is spewing hate and anger toward Alison like crazy. Well, she’s angry over a lot of things, but a lot of it seems directed at Alison lately. She simply makes it too hard for people to ignore her.
While I was never much of a people person to begin with, it was interesting seeing people from all over the world visit my blog and learning about their own lives. Some of them anyway. Most I don’t care to know as it’s the same old predictable shit that doesn’t interest me, but a few could be rather fascinating.
But Molly really spoiled the fun and the fact that she’s acting worse than even a 15-year-old typically acts at 28 years of age is not only sad but kind of scary as well. She’s been this way for so many years that I wonder if she’ll be doing the same thing 10, 20 years from now. It makes me furious to know the pigs can “make a case” out of me when there’s no comparison to anything I’ve done as opposed to what Molly’s been doing for over a decade now. But that’s just our unfair God for you. I’m sure she’ll continue to get away with it. He may punish her in other ways, but I don’t know if the torture of anger and depression over lost friends and exes is good enough. I think legal action should and needs to be taken against her to scare her straight, so to speak, if that’s even possible. If it’s not then she needs to be kept away from the internet.
At the same time, our twisted God/laws infuriate me, I giggle at the thought of her wondering what the hell became of me for the next year or so since I’ll probably spend at least the rest of 2012 off the grid. Well, she’ll see my posts on Twitter and Formspring, but she’ll wonder where the hell I’ve been blogging and what I’ve been saying about her. Oh, and one of her posts (she makes tons a day that are usually not much longer than status updates) said that one of the 5 reasons she wanted to be Alison’s friend was because they both wear makeup, LOL. That’s a good one.
I also liked how she statused that her mother was taking her laptop away until she could stop going to Alison’s, Kim’s and my pages. It didn’t last very long at all if she really did take it away.
I don’t want to dwell on trolls, pigs, blacks, courts, laws or God. I’m still asking God to protect me this time around, but I don’t know that He will in the end. I know that if he really wants to feed me to the wolves, He can and He will and there won’t be anything I can do about it. And so it is up to me to do everything within my power and control to keep the evil away.
I’m sick of the online scares as it is, so yeah, I’m kind of looking forward to keeping a low profile for a while. Online terrors like Molly, Molly’s mother and then the pigs, have gotten quite old. The only way to stop that cycle is for me to back off for a while.
Tammy, on the other hand, tells me she’s thinking of journaling herself. I’m surprised. I didn’t think writing was her thing any more than learning languages.
She said she was almost admitted to the hospital yesterday, is on oxygen and high doses of valium, and in need of bed rest. She also said it’s been hard on her and the girls emotionally.
I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. If she’s not terminal, then why is she suffering so much? Either way, I still don’t know if I like the idea of her contacting me for tips on journaling. She’s getting too close lately. Too close for comfort. And every time she says she wishes I’d visit, I cringe.
“We’re never visiting her and she’s never visiting us,” Tom said.
Damn right! Tammy is a flame that if you get too close to for too long, you will get burned. There’s still a lot of anger there toward her. Tom said some warrants really do expire and I guess he’s done more research and would know these things. Battered woman’s syndrome or not, confused or not, had she not gone and sicced the pigs on me, the black’s warrant would’ve expired probably within a year and what was a then naïve little me would never have been abused by these sickos other than the shit we went through as neighbors.
Oh God, you can’t let them get me again! You can’t!
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 11, 2012 My arms are a bit sore after getting the new equipment and working out much harder. The muscle I’m gaining is amazing! You can see muscle definition on my entire body, but despite all the running I do, my legs are the least visible of it, especially up in the thigh area. Yet any idiot can look at me and see I work out hard even though I could still stand to lose some fat and inches. I’ve decided to space out my days off. Instead of taking the whole weekend off, I’m taking Wednesdays and Saturdays off. That way I don’t have two days off in a row.
Tom said Jesse’s trying to sell an old car that’s parked out by the main road. That would explain all the engine gunning and loud motors I’ve been hearing since people are probably coming around to test-drive the thing. It would also explain why he’s been zipping up and down the drive on the ATV. I’m sure I’ll have to hear all about it today, too. :(
Looks like the troll, who deleted her blogs and has started over like she always does, is back to sleeping. It hasn’t peeked in my blog for 10 hours.
I have been thinking about the shitsters in Arizona (like I can help it) and I really wonder just what the hell it is they want to charge me with. I have gone over it again and again in my mind as far as anything I ever sent and I am 100% sure I never said or did anything illegal. I can guarantee that much. This means they’ve got to have set me up and altered something I sent with threats and no doubt racial shit as well. They had to have. Unfortunately, the race card works well anywhere in the country, but what better state to play it in than Arizona?
I’m pretty sure we’ll be finding out just what the bullshit charges are or at least what they’re calling them as I really think a summons is next. Just like that person we once knew got a letter about their case first before they got a summons. Any idiot knows that a few mailings and a phone call hardly constitute “stalking” but that’s what they called it. What will they call whatever it is I supposedly did this time and is it a felony or a misdemeanor? I don’t think Arizona has many things that classify as just a misdemeanor, but like I said, I think we’ll be finding out soon.
Threats are a possibility too, but I think they’ll just go right for the summons rather than threaten to arrest me if I continue to ignore them or something like that. I really think it’s already hit the courts or is about to because I still think the pig would’ve said “A complaint has been filed or made against you,” and not “a case.” I just don’t think we’ve heard the last of this or that they’ll give up on me that easily, off the grid or not. I just wonder what God will use to sic this hater on me again if that’s what He’s really going to do. Last time he used my sister. Who/what will it be this time? It’s just that things tend to happen the more you’re anticipating them. The more you’re expecting a particular email or phone call from someone in particular, the more messages you seem to get until then and the more the phone tends to ring. Someone who’s maybe looking to try to sell you something shows up at your door when you think it’s the company you’re expecting. So does this mean the pigs will come down here for something totally unrelated and scare the shit out of me while they’re at it? Seriously, I may have vowed not to let them get to me, but that would still scare the living daylights right outa me!
As we know, a judgment can be filed without the defendant present in a lawsuit, but what about a criminal case? Can they just decide what my so-called punishment should be without me there? One that could entail a fine that they help themselves to from Tom’s paycheck? Again, I can’t imagine how the hell I could be fined, jailed or even just thrown on probation for anything I’ve done. I’ve seen some of Molly’s blogs. I know how she behaves online and she too, lives in a state with barbaric laws/sentences. But since no one black is involved and God seems to love to protect everyone but me may be why she continues to get away with stalking and trashing people online like she has for close to a decade.
I just know I’ve been set up. Whatever it is they’re planning to nail me with, I was framed. No doubt about it. And you know what? I don’t know what’s worse – getting nailed for something you did do or getting nailed for something you didn’t do. I will admit, however, that the thought of the black bitch going to court all over again all these years later just to find I’m not there is a touch amusing.
And I never will be there! I can’t make God look out for me, but I can look out for myself and I’ll be damned if I’ll let them victimize, abuse or control me or my life ever again! I will not report to any court or PO cuz they said so. I will not be dressed in their funny little uniforms! I will not be kept from my home, husband and pet! I will not eat their bland or overspiced food! I will not shower in their cold showers! I will not live in their concrete and steel world! I will not pay them money.
I will stay right here in this dumpy little trailer until my husband and I are ready to leave it.
Thinking back on what happened last time around, was I even technically under arrest when the black pig hauled my ass to Phoenix or was I just being dragged in for questioning that I could’ve refused but didn’t know I could? While it was dumb of me to open the door (I really thought they were looking for someone else and that if I just showed them my ID I’d be okay) I just wonder if I was actually arrested yet at the time. I could’ve sworn Tom said something about the pig telling either him or the queen that it “hadn’t been decided yet whether or not I’d be booked.” Then someone at the PD told some woman pig to “just file it for now.”
I’m a curious person that likes to know how things work, fucked up or not, and I wonder if I could’ve refused to go with them that day or if then they’d have arrested me upon refusal. I’ve been racking my brains trying to remember if I was ever shown an arrest warrant or Mirandized and I honestly don’t remember either way. I know I was arrested half a year later by the Mexican pig for the little court call I never received, but did the other pig(s) arrest me???
Whether or not someone threatens me or comes to question me, how will they react to my not appearing in court? That’s what I wonder. I worry about it a little, too. Will that make them try harder to screw me? I’d like to think that no state would spend the time and money to extradite someone for whatever threats and racial slurs they may’ve inserted into my messages, but stranger things have happened.
I’m just so sick of people trying to fuck with me for expressing myself. Be it by phone, by email, online… I’m sick of being treated like a child and told what to do! No one’s told me what to do as of yet in this case, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let them start and let them seize control of my life simply because someone couldn’t handle what I had to say or because they had to falsify evidence against me for something I didn’t even do. I don’t kill people, I don’t steal from them, I don’t burn people’s houses down; all I do is speak my fucking mind! If you don’t agree with it, don’t listen! I am so, so sick of people getting on me for words and not actions. Why don’t they wait till I actually do something before they fuck with me, not that I have any desire to do anything to anyone? Not unless they give me a reason to.
I wonder if the pigs will try to friend me with a bogus profile on FB or something to see what’s going on with me. I doubt they’d go that far, but I won’t accept any strangers. I’m keeping the friends I have but am not open to new buds no matter how hot they may be. I miss the social scene but I don’t. The variety in people, countries and comments was fun, but not the drama that sometimes came of it.
Was just reading back on the summer of 2000. I was arrested around 7/17 and was supposed to be arraigned on the 31st. But the fuckers fucked up the paperwork so it was bumped up to 8/3. So I guess they arraign someone pretty quickly after deciding they have a case against them, real or falsified.
The signs were there all along. My dreams said it all. Yeah, I was reading back on some of the nightmares I had at the time. I just didn’t know I was psychic at the time! Not in that way. The thing is, though, if someone’s gonna come after me to arrest or question me I probably won’t dream about it till the night before. So just because I feel “safe” and “ok” about the situation right now doesn’t mean trouble may not be coming next Monday. I still think they’ve either set an arraignment date or are about to.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 12, 2012 I am so pissed off right now between Jesse, the black bitch and Molly. Molly hasn’t done much to me directly lately but she is continuing to spew such hate and anger towards Alison that I’ve gone from feeling bad for Alison to literally wanting to beat the shit out of Molly for the mean shit she’s been saying, just words or not. She still jumps back to saying she wants to be friends and is missing her oh so much, but it’s getting to be more and more “I hate Alison and hope the cancer kills her” kind of shit and to not go to her blog because she’s such a terrible person, then she posts the link to it.
What the hell’s the matter with Thoughtsthat they sit there and let her get away with this shit? She’d never have been able to say this shit on the old Kiwibox site. It’s just ridiculous! And wrong and unfair. It only deepens my own anger and hatred toward the black bitch that can have me investigated and God knows what else while this crazy little shitster carries on with her usual shit that’s gone on for years. When did I ever say I hoped the black bitch would die and post links saying to stay away from her because she’s not a good person? Molly’s just one step shy of actually making threats. My God, I hope she kills herself or that her parents wake the fuck up! I’d love for them to wake up in the middle of the night to find their darling daughter standing over their bed with a knife in hand. Would they be such protective enablers then?
She finally wrote about the day she went off on her parents and got committed for it. She said her mother could’ve had her arrested for threatening to kill her but didn’t. Oh, but they can arrest me for what’s supposed to be the same thing, right? She said her father was in her face and screaming at her while pointing his finger. It had to do with wanting to see one of the guys she’s harassed for years up in Iowa who doesn’t even want to know she exists. He then took her by the wrist and made her sit in a chair after putting her in a headlock for threatening to kill her parents and then she said she called the cops on him. “I hate living with my parents!” she screams in her blog. “I have no freedom!”
How can say she has no freedom when everything is done for her? Her shelter and food and utilities are all paid for, she doesn’t have to work, and she’s allowed to sit on her ass all day and harass people online yet she doesn’t have any freedom? WTF??? Really, just WTF?!?!
But the sad thing about it is that she could never hold a job long enough to support her own damn self. She’s just too fucked in the head.
I love how she’s complaining about colds, nose bleeds and stomach pain. Gee, I wonder why! Have I been a “nasty influence” on the black bitch too, or has God been protecting her from that, too?
Just like she needs to stop reading certain people’s blogs, I really gotta stop reading hers. It’s like her addiction rubbed off on me somehow. But why read what’s only going to be the same old, same old fucking shit until she graduates to threats?
Let me bitch about Jesse before I get to the hater. He damn near drove me batshit crazy yesterday gunning and running vehicles on and off throughout a 10-hour period, but the car is gone so maybe it’s been sold. I heard like 4 different vehicles up there yesterday (truck, ATV, motorcycle, dirt bike), except for maybe the bulldozer, and of course there was a barking spree thrown in, too. He’s really taken what country living is supposed to be all about, and I just hope and pray that Tom doesn’t get laid off and nothing happens to stop us from getting out of here this summer. Things have slowed down at work. He hasn’t even had any OT lately, though they did say something about the first week of the month being slower.
Tom said Jesse didn’t seem to be around last Thursday since the trash was still there when he got back, and from the sound of the dogs which have been barking for nearly two hours, I’d say he’s out this Thursday as well. It really pisses me off to need sound machines going just to hear myself think and to be able to concentrate on my writing. Sometimes I just want to hear nothing but the sounds of nature but he won’t let me have that much unless it’s at night. Well, as long as it’s not a night that he’s out somewhere. They say it’s going to FINALLY rain next week. That’ll keep him off some of his vehicles, especially the Harley and the dirt bike, so long as we don’t get just a drizzle.
I don’t mind taking a break from public blogging to get away from Molly if only for a year, but it makes me feel controlled by that fucking black bitch down south all over again. I’ll do what I have to do in order to protect myself from once again being wrongfully arrested, prosecuted, convicted and fucked over, but still…here I am all these years later having to once again alter my behavior because of her.
Tom says they can’t serve me because I’m not in Arizona, I don’t use an Arizona driver’s license, and it’s not something like murder, but the dream I had last night was a little scary. There weren’t pigs camped outside the door waiting to legally kidnap and haul me away, but some woman called and informed me in a snotty tone that I would be receiving a summons to appear in court. Playing dumb I asked why and she said something to the effect of my blog pissing people off. I then made some kind of reference to Tom after hanging up about the possibility of me being in deep shit depending on just how many people that may be.
Tom keeps insisting I’m just paranoid, it wasn’t a real cop, and I’ll be fine as long as I stay off the grid. I hope he’s right. No, he is right! He is right because I will not let Arizona have me once again!
Anyway, it’s frustrating wanting to watch a movie now but knowing it’s pointless since the barking in the background will only be distracting.
It’s also frustrating when I can’t make up my mind. Continue to put up with this Mac crap as it is? Get Word for Mac? Windows 7?
FRIDAY, JANUARY 13, 2012 I should be working out right now but the pound I gained from that extra meal I just had to have yesterday is not very encouraging. I just can’t get up the nerve to “discipline” myself with cutting my tongue, puking or anything else. When I’m hungry, I just eat.
Jesse was amazingly quiet yesterday, but that’s because he was gone most of the day. This was obvious by the barking that started at 7am and tapered off a couple of hours later. I wonder if someone’s living up there with him and if they drove in in something quiet at around 9am. Jesse wouldn’t be so quiet if he was there and the dogs wouldn’t be so quiet if they were alone.
Later…
I made myself work my arms, abs and do at least a little running.
I’ve already heard that damn truck 3 times so far today but no barking. They could go ballistic tonight since it’s Friday if he decides to go out tonight. I usually keep the sound machines on throughout the weekends anyway but haven’t turned them on yet.
Wow, it’s gonna come close to hitting 70º today. It’d be a good day to air the place out a bit.
Maliheh has proven that we really can usually trust our gut instinct. I’ve been suspecting she’s basically been doing what Nane did by going longer and longer between messages and all that, so last night I sent an ecard that provides pickup confirmation (she wouldn’t know that) asking what was up with her. Sure enough, the card was picked up but not replied to.
Tom said she thinks she’s just been busy. So busy she can’t even send a quick message saying she’s alive and well? Besides, how busy can she be at 10:00 at night?
So I waited a while and sent another card giving her the last week’s worth of journals and it too was picked up. So yeah, she’s doing one of those slow fade-out routines. No doubt about it. In other words, she’ll probably email me soon to say she’s been sick or busy, but the gap between messages will widen till she one day disappears forever. I just don’t know if she’ll quietly disappear or if she’ll accuse me of some bullshit as Nane did in the end and then dump me. Oh well, it’s her choice. But it explains some things like why she never added me on Facebook. It wasn’t just about keeping me away from her friends; she could’ve hidden me from them. I think she forgave me, feels like she made up for the past by being my friend for a while, and now she’s slowly walking away since she’s sick of me and I was never her type anyway. There’s also the fact that she may’ve friended me long enough to see to it that her name was kept out of the book.
Even though Maliheh specifically told me she’d be my friend as long as I wanted to be hers, I realize you can’t always go by what people say. After all, Nane said it’d be a shame if I dumped her but then she turned around and dumped me. Twice.
Later…
Ended up hearing from Maliheh after all. Sure enough, she said she’s been sick and busy and wasn’t happy that I was airing out her business unless it was in just a private message to her in which case she was sorry for jumping to conclusions. I assured her I wasn’t discussing her online with anyone else, and she went on to tell me she wasn’t mad at me, once she’s someone’s friend she’s their friend, and she’s going through a rough patch with her mom and work that never ends.
Do I believe her? I just don’t know anymore. She sounds believable but I just don’t know for sure what’s going through her mind.
I’ve got a window open in every room. Heard someone drive up and set Brandy off for a minute, and then some thumps that I guess may be car doors. What is he doing now, dealing? Nah. He may be hard up for bucks since he has a kid, but I think he’s just typical where visitors are concerned. That’s one of my concerns about an adult community. Everyone but us seems to have company just about every day and sometimes many times a day. I don’t want to have to sit and listen to car doors slamming galore.
There goes the motorcycle which means there goes the barking unless someone’s up there. I’m gonna put the sound machines on nonetheless. This is the fifth distraction already and it’s not even noon.
Tammy hasn’t seemed to be on FB which is alright with me. Besides, if she’s like most people she’ll start a journal for a while but won’t stick with it. You have to really love to write to stick to things like journals and stories and this is the first she’s ever mentioned writing in the 46 years she’s been my sister.
Yesterday I was bummed, bored and void of energy. Not depressed or stressed but I was just in one of those lazy moods and because I just couldn’t motivate myself to do much, I was bored. I didn’t work on my story or do much of anything. I mostly watched movies, read and listened to music. Oh, and I did study some more of that ugly German and do the dishes.
Because I was in such a lazy mood without much energy, I wandered into the troll’s bullshit blog once again to find she’s supposedly recanted, saying she feels bad for wishing in her blog that Alison would die of cancer and is sorry for it. Then she admits to needing to get offline because she’s not acting responsibly, blaming it on having a mental illness and saying she’s trying to figure out what to do about it and how to get over her anger at her former friends. Every now and then she appears to know right from wrong and to be genuinely sorry for the mean and hateful things she’s said and with a desire to correct the error of her ways. But just hours or days later she’s right back to the same old shit with seemingly no concept of right and wrong, no guilt, no empathy, no compassion, and no desire to change. The sick and twisted obsession of stalking and reaching out to those who have told her to go away lives on.
Although I’m sick of public journaling and the time it was taking up to deal with “fans,” and am determined to stay out of Molly’s radar for the entire year, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if she were right where she is now come the end of 2012 – living with her parents, jobless, and chasing those that don’t want a damn thing to do with her. She still checks for me multiple times a day on thoughts.com.
I did get a kick out of her writing something about being paranoid that we’re out to get her and are plotting against her with the police. It’s nice to see her paranoid for once! But that’s anything but true. The pigs don’t give a shit and I still think that most people that call them do it out of spite and not because they truly fear for their safety.
I feel bad for Aly and Kim and not just because the troll makes it hard for them to ignore her, but because from the sound of Kim’s tweets, she may lose her dad soon, and Aly’s in the hospital. She said just when she thought her health couldn’t get any worse she ends up with a lung infection. I just hope she’s cancer-free! She was supposed to get her test results today. That girl is so, so cursed physically! I don’t tell her this, of course, but Aly’s not stupid. She knows damn well God has it in for her just like He usually has it in for us. Only difference is God uses money to beat us down and not our health. Seriously, if there is a God at all He is so hateful, merciless and void of compassion that it’s scary. But I do try to avoid cussing Him out when the shit hits the fan for fear of Him spiting me for it by adding more shit to hit the fan with. He just seems so vengeful.
I changed usernames on Formspring and Twitter to throw the troll off and even protected my tweets. But then Andy mentioned my Formspring account being deactivated when I didn’t deactivate it. I sent those Formfuckers a message, but haven’t heard back from them. They’ve always been a glitchy site and I wonder if the name change has anything to do with it. Since I was never a big fan of the site I’m probably not going to fight too hard to restore the account. I know Andy liked my backgrounds and being able to post his favorite lines from my journals, but I can send graphics in emails and he can post faves in other places. Meanwhile, we can still play on his page; I just appear anonymous.
German grammar is such a joke. Not only cuz there are 12 different ways to pluralize things but because of things like the uses of the word come. We say “come here” whether it’s to someone we know well or not and regardless of how many people. But in German, you must say “kommen hier” if it’s formal and for those you don’t know well. The informal usage is “komm hier” for one person and “kommt hier” for more than one person. How fucked up is that? Kommen, komm, kommt… why can’t they all just “come here?!”
The descriptive gender words in romance languages drives me nuts, too. In Italian a fat woman is grassa while a fat man is grasso and a group is grassi. Why can’t we all just be fat! LOL
SATURDAY, JANUARY 14, 2012 Today’s adventures in Computer Land consisted of trying a 30-day trial of one of Mac’s word processors called Pages and I wasn’t happy with it. So we configured MW some more in its virtual box. Still not sure if I’ll get Win7 and upgrade to that but I sure am tempted to at times. Mac = crap safer or not!
I am worried, however, about just what the hell they did when they broke into my computer. It’d be just my shit luck to have to go down for someone else’s evil deeds. That’s one of the few things that are much better about Mac. No doubt about it. Microsoft can, for example, decide to disable illegally obtained word processors if they want to from functioning in Win7. And that’s not all they can do. Windows is changing constantly and has many loopholes that allow them (and others) to get at your stuff and basically do what they want with it. With Mac, your stuff is not only much, much harder to get at, but your stuff is your stuff and no one can alter its settings or control it in any way. So again I gotta wonder – who was on my computer before I climbed out of Windows and why? What did they do? We know they were using me as a proxy to hide behind but to do what?
Not as much in the way of annoying vehicles today, but Jesse just had to come and go at least once on the motorcycle. It was barely 10am, though, and they’d already started in with the sawing. Jesse came down here on the ATV not just to check the pipes and tank in back but because he was worried someone may be sawing on the back of his land. The sawing did stop as soon as he came down here, but what’s up with all the damn sawing anyway? It’s never been this bad any other year we’ve been here, so why now? How much firewood can one possibly need in a place that doesn’t get that cold? It’s been so unusually warm that we don’t need the heat from around 10am - 8pm. It’s supposed to finally rain next week and I hope it’s more than just a drizzle! Especially during the daytime.
Why can’t I have the kinds of crazy, unrealistic and downright impossible dreams I had last night? Especially with my history of having too many bad dreams come to life. I was getting an abortion, apparently, and Tom told me to run back inside as we were on our way out, to get this coupon he had for a $300 discount on the procedure.
“How much is it anyway?” I asked him and he said it was $20,000.
“$20,000?!” I asked with surprise. “Forget it then. We’ll get rid of it ourselves.”
I was also floating on a raft on some strange-looking ocean, too.
Alison had a nightmare about Molly flying to Iowa to try to track down her ex who doesn’t want anything to do with her (she has mentioned this in her blogs) but instead she stopped in Nebraska and somehow knew her address. She showed up at her place screaming, “The cancer didn’t kill you so I will!” and then went on to attack her.
This really has Aly shaken up. Even though Molly’s supposedly got some kind of muscle condition, the sicko was an usher for a few years at a movie theater, so she says she would think she could still put up a fight if she wanted to, and is 6” taller than her. Aly’s short like me. She said that if she mentions actually heading to Iowa, she and Dustin will stay somewhere else for a while. Better to be safe than sorry, and she pointed out how I said I’d fear for her safety if Molly could get around easier and wasn’t as stupid as she is.
Molly Rose M, you are hereby welcome to come to NorCali any day. Really, I’d love a visit from you. I guarantee you I’m no one you could take. :)))
SUNDAY, JANUARY 15, 2012 “Look towards your right,” Tom said as we eased onto the freeway earlier today. “Remember that?”
“Yes,” I said, wiping a tear from my eye. I was surprised at the unexpected surge of bad memories that arose from seeing the old storage place, among a few other similar sites in the city. For a few seconds, I could see right where we’d park when getting or bringing things to store. I remembered how in my moment of desperate panic and despair when I thought we weren’t going to make it, I contemplated smashing our stuff, particularly the collectibles, because I didn’t want anyone to profit from our deaths. Even the old oak tree I fell asleep under for 45 minutes during that 36-hour stint of homelessness still had a sad, tired look about it.
I tore my eyes from the grim reminders before they swept out of view as we curved around and onto the freeway and looked through the windshield straight ahead of me. I reminded myself that we didn’t have to return to a Walmart parking lot or a seedy motel in Sacramento’s Northgate area and that we could retreat to our safe and mostly peaceful little retreat in the woods where our expenses are much lower than they were in the fall of 2007. A smile of relief and contentment crossed my face.
Why am I such a wimp, though, compared to Tom? He is so strong compared to his sometimes emotional basket case of a wife. I mean I know I’m tough in a lot of ways. Going through a lot of the rough patches in life I’ve gone through has made me stronger in many ways. But in many ways, it weakens the spirit. PTS is no fun at all. I still have nightmares about being stuck in places like motels, funny farms, jails and Valleyhead. I was stuck in VH last night, as a matter of fact. But I wasn’t a kid again like I usually am in these dreams. We were all the middle-aged adults we are today but we still had to be there for some reason. I’d rather the 20,000-dollar abortions.
Red Lobster was the circus we figured it’d be. Actually, it was worse since it was between lunch and dinner when we went and we thought it’d be a little better at that time. We ordered to go but still had to wait half an hour.
I got the stuffed mushrooms and he got peppercorn steak with potatoes and salad with ranch dressing. He doesn’t do salads, but his wife and rat do. So we all enjoyed our feast to the tune of the wind chimes going crazier than usual since there was a storm rolling in. I’m sure mine is the only rat that ate like a king today in the entire state of Califuckedup (yes, Andy, I know you’ll love that one).
Along with their signature Cheddar Bay Biscuits, the stuffed mushrooms were great and so were the mashed potatoes. Very buttery and creamy. The steak, however, was a bit tough, dry and definitely too peppery.
The troll is now wishing her mother would die too, along with Alison for calling her an ungrateful child. She sure does act like a child and she sure has a lot of hate and anger in her. More than I ever had at my angriest of times. She also admitted to stalking people, particularly Alison, and using others to try to pass messages to her. But the back-and-forth contradictions and hypocrisy live on. She wrote in one post that she was leaving thoughts.com because she feels like she is the most hated member there (gee, I wonder why) and that her parents don’t want her blogging anymore because of the shit she says. Yet barely an hour later she makes a post introducing herself as if she were brand new to the site.
Due to how cruel and horrifying her words have become, Alison contacted her mother on Facebook, though she admits it may not do her any good. I hate to say it but I think it will take something a lot more drastic than their darling daughter just threatening them before they wake up and smell the coffee where she’s concerned and stop defending and making excuses for her. Something’s going to actually have to happen like Molly actually harming someone. I wonder if it’s getting close to that point, too.
If I myself ever want to go back to blogging in peace I’ll probably have to do it under an alias and change the names of my friends and family as well. But I want to wait a while for those other reasons besides Molly. Yeah, tomorrow the pig stress is back on. I’m not scared, but I’m a bit worried. Tom assures me Arizona has no jurisdiction over me and that the worst that could happen would be the local cops questioning me, but let’s hope it doesn’t even come to that! Still, I’d rather be questioned than arrested, and worse… extradited, tried, convicted and jailed.
Later…
I deleted my thoughts.com blog even though it only had like 20 entries in it. I started to mark my profile private but then decided to leave it public because I’m curious to see when and if the troll will give up on checking on me. She’s still pretty consistent. Not every other minute like she used to check in on me when I was writing there, but every hour or so. Sadly, I think that as long as she can get online unsupervised, she’ll check all my abandoned/private/public sites every day for the rest of her life. That’s why going under an alias at an undisclosed location will probably be my best bet if I go public blogging again, along with changing the names of friends and family. I won’t even tell them about it. They can just keep on getting direct entries via email or Facebook. Public blogging, if I return to it, will be just for fun and not a means of keeping friends and family up to date like it used to be. From what I’ve heard, it’s okay to use a pen name as long as you don’t claim to be the president or anything like that.
I almost deleted my MD and MO blogs but couldn’t do it. Not something I can just “kill” easily anymore than the one on my hard drive and that’s a 24-year journal. Does one throw away 24 years of printed life that easily, even if some of it was no joyride? When October 27, 1987 rolled around, I picked up a pen and never looked back. Only difference is I traded pens for keyboards 5 years into it. Pink, purple, black, blue, red, green…I’ve discussed my days in so many different colors and in 5 different states. Well, more than 5 states and even more than just this country since I did do a little writing in Florida and at sea when we went cruising to the Bahamas and Puerto Rico. Would’ve done it in the Grand Turks too, had a storm not made the waters too dangerous to try to dock in.
Marie used to say that the best way to go out of this world would be with a beer in one hand and a woman in the other. With me, I’d take Tom in one hand and my journal in the other.
One of Sharyn’s sisters was down in Florida visiting her mom when she was swimming on her back in a pool and rammed her head against the side of it. The next day she felt woozy and was taken to the hospital where it was discovered that her brain was bleeding. She must’ve been swimming super fast and really rammed it hard!
We did more fine-tuning and setting up on my PC. It sucks too, cuz I feel like I’m learning computers all over again as I learn the new ways of doing things on the Mac. We swapped mice too, since mine was acting up. Mice and I don’t seem to get along. Glad I got a rat! Although he’s not usually stupid enough to do something he knows he’s not supposed to do when I’m watching, if I’m in the other room and he can get into it, he will. Tom and I were in one room working on my computer and I forgot that the rat had been out for a while in the other room. So I went to check on him and sure enough, the furry little pervert was pulling my panties out of the hamper.
Tomorrow it’s back to working off the weight I gained over the weekend. When am I going to stop doing that and stop gaining on weekends what I took off during the week?
I think of good things. Good things going on today and good hopes for tomorrow. And then the freeloaders and pigs pop into mind and ruin it all. Will they really just sigh and realize that yes, I am out of their jurisdiction and give up on me? Or will they refuse to let me go and then do whatever they have to do, legal or not, to get at me? Really, will I be forced to go down there and remove them from my ass somehow, some way, or will they just let me be and go chase murderers, rapists and child molesters?
How I spent so many years in the past wishing they would just forget about me! Always with me, always with them. That’s what I used to feel my whole life was and would be when it came to the haters and how they affected my life both directly and indirectly. Those I wish would remember me more often if ever at all never seem to do so while those I wish would just forget about me and go away forever cling to me like the most faithful of lovers.
To help ease my anxieties I try to let my creative side come out to play and make a game of the weekday stress I will go through for probably some time to come, especially since Tom’s not around then. Why couldn’t this have happened when he was on unemployment? Ah, but on the flip side, we’ve now got money saved to run with if need be. On unemployment, how could we run? We’d probably have to run to a cheap, noisy apartment, but it would be much better than jail, out of their jurisdiction or not. Yeah, I know. The PTSD is just making me paranoid. Like crazy paranoid.
So in my mind, I will have a gorgeous foreign bodyguard looking out for me when he’s not here. :)
It’s what they framed me with that worries me. Tom says there’s no point in worrying since I can’t control them and what’s done is done, but I can’t help but wonder and worry about it just the same, and whether or not there’s a connection between them and whoever was in my computer.
Tomorrow will make one week since the pig emailed me and if I hear anything else from the cock I’m going to go from concerned to pissed. But why oh why did the Mexican pig have to email the black pig to say a case had been made against me??? This one has me baffled as hell. Tom said they just pulled off addies I’d sent unwanted stuff to, but then why wasn’t the black bitch herself emailed? Didn’t she get unwanted stuff? Isn’t my hurting someone’s feelings, pissing them off, and bruising their ego what started this shit? I don’t even know that I did in fact email anything to the black pig. I know I sent a message or two to the company holding that contest when we were up in Oregon, and I know I bashed the cock on Rate My Cop but that’s it. And what about the one with the invalid domain? What the hell was that about? I’m suspecting it was a trap of sorts. I think they hope I’ll panic at the thought of the black pig being contacted in regards to me or that it’ll piss me off and make me contact him. But I know that even in the toughest state in the country they simply cannot make a “case” out of anything I’ve ever sent. It’s just not enough. Nothing I sent could possibly constitute as threatening or even slightly bordering on “hateful” in the kind of way I’m sure the black bitch wishes it did. Unless they made it look that way and this is what worries me most.
Tom says they can’t set a court date if they can’t serve me, but that’s not what I’ve heard. First of all, I think they can have me served if they really want to (probably at this address since this is the one tied in with the net), and secondly, I heard that a summons is still valid as long as they send it to your last known address whether you’re there or not. This means that they’re going to set a date for me to be arraigned, with or without my knowing about it just like they did shortly after we got into the Maricopa house, and then there’ll be a default warrant on me when I don’t show up. I’d love to check for warrants now since they usually arraign you within days of making a case, but I could be being watched. I want to appear as oblivious to them as possible if I appear at all. Tom still promises that going off the grid will do the trick because that way I don’t exist.
But I do exist and unfortunately so do these hateful, vengeful assholes that may not want to give up on me so easily and that may want to relentlessly pursue me as if I’d actually done something other than express myself and as if I’d actually hurt someone. They made me feel like such a criminal 12 years ago! Just such a total criminal. Even I had to remind myself at times that hey, I didn’t kill anybody. I didn’t even slap them. There’s no Failure to Appear on me so yeah, it was a scam. It better be!
looks upward and wonders Will God protect me this time? Or will He throw me to the lions, sit back and watch while He leaves me completely helpless against these whackos? Please, God! Please don’t beat me over the head with these people! It’s not funny. It wasn’t funny the last time. It won’t be funny if there’s a next time either. Please, please, don’t do it!
MONDAY, JANUARY 16, 2012 Between PMS, cold weather, hours of barking and living in what’s generally an unfair world that no one seems to even want to try to fix, I’ve got a lot of anger in me right now.
I was right in predicting Molly’s behavior which is rapidly spiraling out of control, and I don’t have to be psychic or have a psychology degree to know it’s only going to get worse till she actually does do something like kill her parents in her sleep like she’s written twice in her blog about wanting to do. It’s not her threatening her parents that pisses me off. I don’t give a shit about her parents. Her parents are nothing but enablers who won’t wake the hell up and smell the coffee where their crazy daughter is concerned. In fact, I wish she would hurt them because that’s probably what it will take to finally get this nut in a controlled environment so she can no longer stalk and harass people she’s obsessed with online.
It’s the fact that she’s been making more and more threats and getting away with it that pisses me the fuck off. I’m SICK of seeing so many people get away with threatening and harming others while those that do get in trouble have done little to nothing at all! That’s what pisses me off.
“She’s crazy,” Tom tried to reassure me, “and she is paying. Legally isn’t the only way to make someone pay for something. She’s miserable all the time and she has a miserable life.”
That may be so, but that’s not good enough for me. It’s just not good enough. I want to see her arrested and dragged through the mud and not left to continue getting away with the very same thing I was accused of and had to have my life turned upside down for. She’s sitting there threatening people at will and no one’s doing a damn thing about it! How fucked up is that?!
I couldn’t figure out why I was so sluggish all day till I realized my period is less than a week away. So my hunger levels are up and my energy levels are down.
Jesse was out all day so I got barking instead of loud motors to have to listen to, but there is some good news. Alison is cancer-free! Yes!
The temps have really taken a nosedive and we’re making up for lost time, you could say. It got into the low 20s last night! That’s super cold for this area. Tonight it’s to get down to 24º. wishes she’d moved to Florida The rain’s been bumped up a day from Wednesday to Thursday.
I’m just glad no one came to the door or emailed me in regards to the freeloaders. This helps ease some of my anger over life’s injustices in general. I’d rather be pissed at watching others get away with shit than see myself made to pay for nothing. I’ve been wonderfully relaxed, too. I can’t believe I was practically shitting bricks over the prospect of Molly’s mom coming after me but am oh so calm where the crazies, who have already screwed me over, are concerned. Maybe that’s because I resigned myself to the fact that hey, I am not going to have my life ruined simply because I may’ve hurt someone’s precious little feelings or offended someone who wasn’t forced to read my stuff, by simply expressing my opinion. When I think about the Mexican pig’s words – a case has been against you – I’m like yeah, yeah, play this game by yourselves this time. I did NOTHING wrong.
Never with me, never with them.
TUESDAY, JANUARY 17, 2012 Today’s been pretty quiet. The car was still at the end of the drive, so we saw last weekend when we went out to eat, so I don’t know if it’s been sold yet.
I’m still sluggish with PMS fatigue and filled with enough water to shame the Sacramento River, but I’m doing what I gotta do. I just gotta really push myself to get things done.
I did some cleaning and a light workout but am continuing to laze out of working on my book. Part of that is due to staying up later and later when it’s peaceful enough to watch movies without arf, arf, arf! Like I said before, I can’t watch movies with sound machines, but I can write with them.
When I got up I was surprised to see the troll hadn’t been looking for me for over 14 hours. Then Alison messaged me to say she was surprised as well with a pleasant response to her message to the troll’s mother. Mrs. M said she was sorry and that she would no longer be bothering her or her friends and to let her know if she does.
That’s great that she’s finally acknowledged her daughter’s problem, and as Aly said, if she can help keep Molly away from us, great. But how long will it last? How long? She’ll be back. She’ll be back sooner or later and we both know it. All we can do is enjoy whatever time off she gives us.
Made up a bunch of cat drafts for Maliheh. She loves cats, so I send a picture of one with my messages and journals. I’ve got 180 drafts, though about 10 of them are for Andy. Where Maliheh’s into cats, Andy’s into porn, but I’m afraid to send any dirty pics. I tried sending one of these two naked guys running down the street, but he said he couldn’t see it. When I checked my ‘sent’ folder it appeared as just a tiny gray square making me think someone’s watching and taking it upon themselves to censor my fucking messages, so I’m not going to bother. He’ll just get a mix of random pics instead, but 100s of cats are waiting to help read my journal to Maliheh:)
Wow, it’s after 4pm and still no hubby. Could the guy be back to OT?
The food subsidy people told us what we figured they’d tell us since he made $3200 last month; to buzz off. I don’t think it will be that much this month cuz things are a little slower, but it should still exceed their qualifications.
Tom just got home. No OT. Just a car fire that slowed traffic down instead, but work should be picking up next week.
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 18, 2012 Irish homeowners now have the right to shoot intruders, so I just saw someone posted on Facebook.
But that’s the way it should have always been in every house, condo and apartment all over the world. Better later than never as far as doing what’s fair and what’s right, but I can tell you one thing for sure and that’s that I’ll never allow any law to dictate how I can and can’t handle intruders. I’ll handle them my way no matter what any law says, and while I don’t have a gun, you can bet your ass I’m going to do all I can to kill them. Not scare them off, not hurt them, but kill them. Even so, I’d rather not have to do so in the first place.
Heard the usual slew of barks, chainsaws and loud vehicles, but nothing got to the point of making me want to strangle anyone even though I’m in the perfect PMS mood to do a little ass-kicking to anyone deserving of it.
Yesterday’s hunger pangs sucked. Why does my body need closer to 2000 calories and not the usual 1500 before periods??? I managed to stop myself at around 1600 yesterday but today I think I’ll just let it have the 2 million damn calories. I’ve already had 700 in the 4 hours I’ve been up and I’m still hungry. Maiale cazzo!
I’m pissed off for Andy now and the way some of these fucking cocks are playing with his head much like women used to do with me when I was last single and still sometimes do online. Really, what the fuck do some of these bitches expect when either in person or electronically they send me kisses, hugs, phone numbers that just might not be bogus, and then shower me with flirtatious words – for me not to think they like me? Some of them really didn’t but that was part of their sick, strange and totally unnecessary games. Unfortunately, this is quite common amongst both gays and straights. Not sure what the point is in making someone think you like them when you don’t or hiding the fact that you really do like them, but it’s still a common occurrence.
I had a dream I told some guy on the phone in German that I hoped Nane got into a car accident. I could never hate her that much to wish that upon her. I know she was attracted to me and had feelings for me. No doubt about that much. She spelled it out enough times for me. It was the up and down and going back and forth that got to me and had she not dumped me, sooner or later I’d have dumped her.
If someone who never claimed to like me one day fessed that they did or vice versa – fine. But don’t like me and dislike me and like me and dislike me and back and forth!
But Andy’s getting it worse than just some occasional online games because he is lonely, single and horny and doesn’t have a soul mate that loves him unconditionally when the online fun isn’t so fun anymore. I just wish, like he does, that they wouldn’t lead him on and play games. Like it was 20 years ago, sex is in, relationships are out. But must you say you’ll get together with someone you have absolutely no intentions whatsoever of getting together with? Really, what’s the point of that? It doesn’t make you money. It doesn’t guarantee you a longer life. So what’s the point???
At the same time, one can’t make be what simply isn’t to be. I hope that’s not the case for Andy, though, and that he just wasn’t meant to meet Mr. Right till later in life.
I’m also concerned about how perverted he’s become. Not that he’s literally any kind of pervert but all he seems to want to talk about is sex and it gets old. So do the disgustingly dirty pictures he loves to post. IMO these aren’t the least bit sexy or classy in any way. They’re perverted and gross. Why didn’t his appetite dwindle with age like most people’s?
I wonder if perhaps he’s coming on a bit too strong and that’s scaring people off. If people suspect you want a relationship and not just sex they tend to run. Same with if you come across as desperate and like you live, breathe and eat nothing but sex. Either way, that’s no excuse for their games. However, we can’t control other people’s feelings and behavior. We can make them not like us but we can’t make them like us. We can do things we think will make them happy and we can tell them jokes we think will make them laugh, but we can’t make them love us or lust for us. Maliheh wasn’t attracted to me 20 years ago. She isn’t now. And she never will be in another 20 years either. Give a sane hottie like her a brain tumor or disfigure their faces, then they’d be all over me and making me wish to hell they’d just go away and leave me the hell alone. There’s bad luck and then there are clear and evident patterns. I hate to say it. So much so that I’ll be sure to cut this part out of his journal copy, but I think he’s meant to spend the rest of his life alone. I just don’t know why. When I know why I wasn’t meant to be with a woman (not that I regret Tom) and when I know why we’re meant to struggle most of our lives, then maybe I’ll know why he’s meant to be alone.
Another troll-free day so far. She deleted all her Blogger blogs and her Thoughts blog and made one post apologizing for the things she said. Yeah, we’ll see how long that lasts.
I went Florida dreaming again last night but it made no sense. I hope that just the fact that I dreamed of living there is what means something other than just wishful thinking because some of the details made no sense at all. For one, we were sitting on a tiny dock overlooking a man-made inlet. This dock was apparently ours and only ours but in reality, we could never afford to live on or by the ocean or any kind of an inlet like that where people have their own docks.
Also, Tom was saying that the last person he showed the house to (I assume in Cali) was this bitchy woman who complained about everything. I guess I wasn’t around when he showed the house. This is still another thing that doesn’t make sense. If we own a house it means we had enough money to buy it outright. Well, if we had that kind of money I doubt we’d buy a place in this state.
I just liked the fact that we were there:) I also like the record number of dreams I’ve been having about living there and that I hope isn’t just a reflection of wishful thinking. Do I think the dreams mean something? Yeah, I do. If I weren’t psychic and had never had experiences with things like dream premonitions, then I wouldn’t know what to think. But while I’d prefer the ones where I called my folks to tell them we made it safely across the country and nothing out of the ordinary happens, Florida dreamin’ is still Florida dreamin’ and – OMG, Ft. Lauderdale! I swear one of us mentioned Ft. Lauderdale!
Just looked on Google Maps. What a coincidence that it’s right above Miami. It’s closer to Miami than Naples where Aly said she might go, but there’s a road that shoots straight across the lower peninsula from Ft. Lauderdale to Naples.
Wouldn’t it be funny if we ended up in a Miami hotel while we looked into a Ft. Lauderdale senior rental?! Actually, it doesn’t really matter where in the state we end up if we get there. I just might not like it up by the panhandle where the weather may not be as nice or too far inland even though it’d be safer there.
Anyway, the best part of the last Florida dream was the sense of contentment I felt sitting on that dock. I sat Indian-style next to Tom who sat in a chair. There was a beautiful breeze and I marveled over the fact that I could throw on a bikini and go tanning if I wanted to even though it was the dead of winter and Miss Pale As Hell was never very good at tanning.
In another split-second scene, I was standing in front of what I guess was where we lived. I can’t describe the house I “saw” but the walkway seemed to have many flowering bushes flanking it. I was relieved to know the sun was setting so the bees hovering about them would soon fuck off.
I would really like to know who’s been signing me up for every newsletter in the world. Just last night I got a message from some company saying, “Welcome to so and so,” as if I’d just signed up.
Still no shit from the haters, pigs or anything connected to them and I hope it stays that way. I realized, for whatever it’s worth, that regardless of what they did to set me up and make me look bad enough for a “case,” there are two things they had last time that they don’t have this time – no phone call, no physical evidence.
Later…
Ever had an idea that’s so good but also so bad at the same time? Well, there’s this scummy trailer park not far from here. We’ll never have 100K to buy a house with, but I bet it wouldn’t take nearly as much to buy an old shit trailer (maybe even smaller and dumpier than this one) and buy a lot in one of these dumpy parks. Maybe 10-20 grand? Where it would be so good and so bad is that it would be good in that it would be ours to do as we pleased when we wanted to without having to have our schedules revolve around some pesky landlord. It would also be good in that we wouldn’t have any payments to have to make if we owned it outright, other than for utilities.
Where it would be bad is that I’d be absolutely miserable in some “cheap” trailer park. The noise levels would be so insane to the point that it made the noisiest moments here seem rather comatose. I would never be able to get any peace while I was awake and I doubt I’d get much sleep there either. Oh, the welfare bums that would be crammed like sardines into the place! We would also still be cramped into a tiny place, one that may even be smaller and older than this one, and we’d have to pay to fix whatever broke.
Tom had quite a scare at work yesterday. They called a bunch of people in for a meeting, and although I haven’t had any nightmares of a particular kind – the kind that spells trouble ahead for us – he thought they were gonna be told that they lost their contract and that they would all be laid off. Instead, it was just about changing bosses. I guess they shuffled them around from certain areas or something like that. Tom now works in two different departments. We just gotta hope they don’t slow down before the next 4-5 weeks or so! Not being able to move would be one thing, but not being able to get unemployment if they do lay him off is another.
Obviously, he’s never going to get a permanent job as long as we remain in this state. It’s all temps here. If you can come to Cali and get a permanent job, something up there really loves you! But as I told Andy, if those Florida dreams mean anything, then we’re moving there anywhere from soon to 11 years when he retires. However, I can’t believe I’d start having these dreams 11 years in advance. I would think we’d be 5 years or less away from moving there if we really do end up doing that.
Yesterday I didn’t sleep any better than I would have had I been in that dumpy trailer park, a motel or some of the apartments I’ve lived in. I kept waking up every few minutes, it seemed, but I never sleep as well in the daytime anyway. On the positive side, the less I’m up during the day, the less I hear of Jesse.
THURSDAY, JANUARY 19, 2012 We finally got some rain around here, though it hasn’t been much yet and it didn’t start till Jesse’s usually indoors anyway. I did hear him running around on the ATV for a few minutes, though, as the sun was setting. Oh well. I slept most of the day anyway.
I stood out on the porch at around 4pm waiting for Tom to come down the drive and breathing in that fresh mountain air. It was raining lightly at the time and the ground was barely saturated. It’s too cold here and it’s not as pretty as Florida but it’s still so peaceful and so beautiful when there’s no barking or loud vehicles running. Country living beats city life any day!
No scary meetings at work for Tom and no nightmares for me, so that’s good.
Been showered with all kinds of comments, hugs, kisses, and pictures from Irene, LOL. I guess she realizes that yes, Nane, whom she herself warned me about, and I are really done. Totally history. I don’t mind attention from her as opposed to some of the others on Facebook like Lori. Lori’s nice but the poor girl is so damn ugly. Not sure how with it she is either, but I don’t think she’s too far out in left field. Just ugly enough to shower me with even more attention. :(
Irene doesn’t get carried away and make me feel smothered or overwhelmed in any kind of way and she’s not bad looking. She’s one of those that’s ugly but she isn’t if that makes any sense. She probably attracts more women than men. She’s overweight and has short hair, but she has a pleasant face and a great personality. She seems to be very friendly and open-minded. I had to laugh that time she said she wondered if I were in love with Nane. No, not in love, but I definitely had feelings for her. I don’t know if Irene is bi like Nane, but that’s the impression I get based on some things she’s said.
The drama queen hasn’t been around much. Have I been making her nose bleed too hard or something? Molly had all kinds of aches, pains, nosebleeds, and illnesses when she was fucking with me and my friends and really pissing me the hell off, LOL. The drama queen hasn’t done anything lately, but that anger over the past still lingers. I think it always will to a degree.
Been thinking of shutting down my Yahoo account. Tom and I have been thinking of shutting down a few of our email accounts and we’ll decide what to get rid of this weekend. I use my mail.com addy occasionally and it’s not overwhelmed with spam yet, so I’ll probably keep that even though it’s a bitch to get into. But I never use my Gmail account anymore and the Yahoo account gets spammed to hell and back every day. I just can’t get it all to hit my spam box. Like I said, I really think someone used it to sign me up for all kinds of shit. The scammers are harder to get rid of than the spammers because they keep coming at me from different email addies that just won’t get filtered out. I’ve had the Ratgirl account for 12 years, though, so I’ll have to think about it. When I go back to sweeping in about a year or so I would want to use a whole new addy for it anyway. Rather than try to struggle to remember which sites I’m already registered at and update all my Robo passcards, it’s easier to just start anew with a fresh address even if it means re-registering for everything.
All but my mail.com addy has been hacked. My Gmail, Yahoo and a Hotmail account I once had 5 years ago were all hacked. The thing is that when I reported being unable to log into my Hotmail account they never even had the decency to respond let alone help me in any way. I never heard from MSN and never got that account back. Because of it, I don’t think I would want to bother with Hotmail, and Gmail’s not good either because Google has lousy security lately for some reason. I would probably create another Yahoo account if I was going to do anything at all.
Tom said to be sure I don’t go to the sites that have been signing me up for their newsletters and sign anyone up for them myself, pointing out that while he thinks it’s probably just spam, it could also be the pigs trying to bait me.
Yeah, I know that. Believe me, the pigs are the first to come to mind when anything suspicious happens, but I agree with him in that it’s most likely spam. The whole world has this email addy, thanks to my sweeping days and all the sites that sold my main email addy and the sites that were hacked like Sony and other big-name sites.
Later...
Made another book sale which is good, but still not able to get in the mood to work on my current book. When I’m not working around the house or working out, lately I’ve been watching movies, reading books, and writing in my journal. I’ve got to get off this lazy trend I’ve been on.
I keep telling myself I should also try to make at least $5 every weekday on MT to help ward off the next “poor” spell, but I can’t seem to do that either. Is it because he makes a lot of money and because I don’t like working so long for slave wages? Probably. But I also think I pretty much figure that fate is fate. If we’re meant to suffer again we will no matter what I do to try to prevent it or make it easier. But I am helping in other ways like by not overspending. I’m not very materialistic anyway these days and I haven’t been for a few years now. I get a few things here and there but nothing extravagant like I did for about a decade until around 2008.
Gotta wonder what it is with me at times, though, when half the time I gotta push myself to write stories even when I’ve got tons of ideas, yet I just can’t stop writing in my journal. Hope I’m not overwhelming my email recipients.
I have doubts that Tom will ever be a permanent employee anywhere and I have doubts about an adult community at times, too. Oh, I still hope to rent in one someday so I’ll know for sure what it’s like. But sometimes what I think will be the case ends up not being the case at all. We came to Cali thinking we would have better lives. We were wrong. Life is certainly getting better and in some ways, it’s finally better than it was in Oregon. We don’t have to pay utilities here other than propane. Tom doesn’t lose a buck an hour for insurance he’ll never use. The taxes aren’t nearly as high here. People get paid time and a half for every day they work overtime even if they haven’t worked 40 hours yet for that week. The climate is better. The area is quieter. But look how long it took for things to get this way and there’s no saying how much longer it will last.
Your average temp job is 3-5 months according to what I just read, and temps, which are used by 90% of the companies out there, are fast becoming the norm. The temp craze isn’t just about a shaky economy but also a great way to get out of having to pay benefits as well, just as I figured was the case. Few temps become permanent these days. Some people are temps at the same place for years.
Maybe Tom should think of skipping the temp companies and look for a permanent job on his own if he wants benefits we could afford and the vacation and holiday time he deserves. Especially if he’s still a temp past March. The only problem is - where do you find a permanent job in Cali??? And when are there going to be laws to protect temps or at least a means of giving them affordable insurance and at least some vacation time, especially if the healthcare thing falls through?
Having so many things not turn out to be as I expected or at least hoped they would be is what makes me have doubts and concerns about an adult community. I know without a doubt I would never want to return to the mainstream part of the city or any kind of attached living. Apartments and condos simply aren’t me. But what if adult communities aren’t as peaceful as I’m told they are? We also don’t want to be stuck in a tiny old trailer forever either, so as Tom said, we’ll just have to really do our homework if and when the time ever comes when the opportunity to do so is there. I really hope we get to live in a real house again someday with adequate space. I miss it so much!
I also have my doubts about ever again winning up a storm like I used to, psychic or not. I was 1 of 7K entrants to win the Caribbean cruise I won in 2006. Well, I didn’t enter for it but there’s this trip on Facebook where all you have to do to be entered is “like” them, a very common way to enter sweeps. But they have over 51K likes! :( That’s why I don’t think I can ever win like I once did. From 2005-2008 not nearly as many people entered sweeps or had FB accounts and not many sweeps were run through them. The whole world enters sweeps these days! sighs But all good things do come to an end.
Saw a movie that took place on a cruise ship and made me wish we were cruising again. Especially after learning that its toughest moments were nothing compared to semi-smooth days at the extended-stay motel. Swimming in what seemed like a wave pool due to the ship’s movements was so much fun. I also want to read and write on the private veranda we had where I’m safe from bees and spiders, LOL. I miss the ocean mist blowing on my face like when it was storming and we’d kind of hang over the railing. Hell, it was even fun waving goodbye to all the people too, when we disembarked from that Fort Lauderdale port, right where “the dream people” are hinting we might one day end up. As it is I don’t think we’re gonna make the Italy trip, something I have mixed emotions about. I still hate to travel. It’s a pain in the ass and when you have a sleep disorder, can’t take your sound machine with you, and wake up to every little sound, you tend to be dragging during the daytime. They also seem pretty hateful in Italy, too. On the flip side, the language is beautiful, I know enough of it to get by, and a change if only for a week might do us good. A week would be about all I could stand anyway. I don’t know how many other entrants I beat out on this trip; I only know I won it by accident. I wanted the runner-up’s $1200 necklace to sell on eBay.
When the treadmill breaks or we sell it like maybe for a lighter move to Florida, Ft. Lauderdale or not, I want an elliptical machine for sure. They were doing that on the cruise in the movie, too. I like how it doesn’t need electricity and there is no impact on the joints. Also, I didn’t realize this but I like the handles that you sort of pull back and forth while you’re using it sort of like you’re skiing. It would help work the arms even more. Or maybe after we get moved if it looks like we’re gonna stick around a while and we have the space and the treadmill stays alive, I’ll get it anyway. Both would be nice to have for variety, but it’s way in the future unless this thing does crap out anytime soon.
FRIDAY, JANUARY 20, 2012 Die Hündin has her wall public and posted the same link to a German weather site about Hurricane Katrina to both the public as well as to friends of friends. What did she do that for? If your wall is public then why submit the same thing for friends of friends? I’m a friend of some of her friends yet nothing appears in the news feed. Maybe it’s not supposed to? Oh well. Who could ever figure out a woman like Marion Nane L?
I still miss Nane at times. Although I’m over most of the hurt and anger at being dumped when I could’ve used a friend the most (not that I didn’t have others who cared), and although I shouldn’t, I’m sure I’d be dumb enough to welcome her back into my life with open arms if she’d only reach out to me. LOL, even if she’d just end up dumping me the next time the shit hit the fan in my life, but that’s just how some people are. They’re there when you’re up and they run when you’re down. But I mean no disrespect to any of Nane’s friends that may read this and I still wish Nane the very best in life. I hope she hasn’t been dumped by Jim. It’s just that Karma has a way of biting us in the ass when we least expect it.
I’ve developed this gross nail fungus in my nails. It’s mostly in my toes, but I have a combination of thin nails, thick nails, discoloration, lifting, bending, etc. They all have sort of a milky white tint to them and hopefully, the stuff I bought will clear up the cloudiness and other uglies in a few weeks. Tom thinks it’s because of the long-term use of too much nail polish. If that’s so since I doubt it’s a sign of a deadly disease since I’m being sent to Florida so often in my dreams, I wish I could lose interest altogether in nail polish. Maybe if I come back a man or a butch in the next life I won’t have a damn bit of interest in the stuff. But in this life, muscular or not, I’m all fem – heels, flashy jewelry, dresses, perfume, nail polish and makeup. Not as much makeup, though, as when I was younger. I don’t think makeup looks as good on older people, and especially not the elderly. It makes them look clownish in a ghoulish sort of way.
Tom tells me I’m not fat, yes he will be a permanent employee someday, and yes, we will be insured (for less than $40 a week) before we’re old. Not sure I believe him on the first two. I still need a dentist, I still need a doctor who specializes in congenital atresia, and I might have to see a doctor for a prescription if I can’t clear this nail thing up on my own.
Except for just a couple of days over the last two weeks, my ear has been much better. I don’t expect it to last, though. The rain seems to be stirring it up as it is. We got some rain yesterday but today we’re really getting slammed. It’s really sheeting down hard against the windows so much so that if they were open we’d be soaked in here. I had hoped that Jesse would stay in tonight so I could enjoy the sounds of the rain and the wind chimes instead of barking and I got my way with that one at least for tonight. I threw on the dehumidifier for a while since I’ve now got wet clothes hanging on the inside lines.
It kind of sucks that I’m on nights now and not up to enjoy and take advantage of this rain making things quieter around here. Jesse still may run and gun that damn truck, but no one would be sawing or running around on ATVs, motorcycles or dirt bikes.
After spending the last 8 hours, cooking, cleaning and doing other odds and ends around the place, I’m going to waste time watching movies, reading, and neglecting my book. Well, after I do the grocery list I will.
I can waste time thinking and wondering, too. How about like why our moving to a retirement community this summer seems too “easy” and “too good to be true?” Oh, wait. Make that an adult community. Tom says a retirement community isn’t an appropriate thing to call them because that’s usually for those in need of assisted living.
But an 18-year-old is an “adult.”
Either way, moving to a – how about 55+ neighborhood? – seems sort of unrealish to me, like it ain’t gonna happen. I may be too young. Only one of you has to be 55 or up, but they like to keep their overall percentage of people at 55 and up, so we still may not be able to get in even if we can save up enough money, he’s still working, and they don’t mind taking us even though he’s just a temp. Maybe we could get around letting them know he’s just a temp, but hopefully they’ll understand that so are most people in Califuckedup. It would be just our shit luck that my age would be an issue since we’re not very good at getting what we want and our plans rarely go through. sighs Why do I have to be in my 40s? I want to be in my 50s right now! We could remain in the country, but it’s not only very hard to find a place on a piece of land that doesn’t have landlords or other tenants on it, but they’re usually over a grand a month in rent.
No Florida dreamin’ last night. Instead, I flew over a giant water slide and got it on with someone but I don’t know who. I don’t even know if it was a man or a woman, LOL.
It’s been almost two weeks since I heard from the pigs, real or not. Is it because they’re giving up on me or because they have something more sinister planned for me? Tom thinks that if I keep out of view they’ll let it die away. They better! There are no words in any language to describe what a big mistake it would be on their part if they messed with me. Some people really aren’t worth bothering with and I’m one of them. I just hope I won’t have to show them that. I have continued to pray them off every single day and by some miracle, something’s actually been listening to me so far.
SATURDAY, JANUARY 21, 2012 I’m so fucking pissed right now I could scream! I emailed Tom a copy of this really cute rodent picture Andy had on Formspring, but he said it wasn’t visible. So I went through my ‘sent’ folder and found that many pictures I’d enclosed in messages weren’t visible either. Strangely enough, most of the invisibles were sent to Maliheh. I asked Maliheh to let me know if she’s been noticing this too and how often but I don’t expect an answer. The poor girl’s got so much shit going on I rarely hear from her these days. We don’t need to go back to daily chats, but I keep hoping that things will slow down and get better on her end so we can chat at least once a week. But I may not get an answer and so I may not know what she’s seeing on her end of things. I just know that I checked those messages after I sent them and the pictures were perfectly visible then. Today they’re not.
Also, I made up a bunch of “stationery.” These are pictures I’d lay down in the bodies of the emails and save as drafts, but many of those are gone, too. Ugh, I’m just so pissed! I worked long and hard on all that stationery. Maybe I need to stop doing so much for others.
Sometimes I wonder if someone somewhere is fucking with me. I really do. So we installed a PW on my entire PC. No one can do anything on it anymore without entering that PW first.
Got lots of rain and I even heard the frogs for the first time this year.
Despite the fact that I’ve moved every few months to a few years since I was 20, I just don’t see us moving anytime soon, but I think I already mentioned that. If this is where we’re meant to be for many more years to come, fine. I’m used to living in tiny old dumps and there could be worse places to be stuck in. I just wish I knew for sure because I don’t want to think, try or aim for something that isn’t meant to be. Instead, I would want to start thinking about sprucing this place up and customizing it to suit our needs. I hate to spend money on someone else’s place and I hate living with Jesse, but if that’s what’s meant to be then it must be for a reason, right?
After saying he’d tone it down, Andy’s already back to posting porn on his Formspring wall after just a few days of decent, classy, sexy and cute pics. This is some really raunchy shit he posts too, that I can’t believe he hasn’t been kicked off the site altogether. But when you know that risk is there and that it grosses some people out but still can’t seem to stop, that should tell you something about yourself. This is classic pervie behavior. It’s so sad to see him this way but it’s true. He just can’t seem to stop with the lewd and disgusting talk and pictures, especially pictures. Classic, classic pervert behavior. He’s made it no secret that he’s attracted to youth. Most straight guys are too, and look how many of them are perverts, rapists and child molesters? Maybe he wasn’t so innocent after all in the case that landed him in jail and on probation. The guy involved was only 22. Better than 18 which is better than 14. But still, he was almost forced to register as a sex offender and he acts like one, too. Only difference is this one’s deprived and not getting nearly as much sex as he wants because he’s after guys and not girls. Most people are still straight and sometimes girls are easier to lure because of it.
MONDAY, JANUARY 23, 2012 Welcome weekday pig worries…
Not!
Still not sure what to think where they’re concerned, but trying not to worry. It’s just not easy when you have a dream where someone knocks on the door and you say to your husband, “That’s 3 times this week.”
But was it the pigs? Or was it just the Jes pest?
Anyway, I won’t let them get me. I won’t. Not unless they kick their way in here and physically drag me outa here. They seem to have forgotten me, but that may be what they want me to think. Months can go by before the pigs come at you again whether you deserve them to or not and I definitely haven’t done anything to deserve their attention. That’s part of what makes this a little scary. Imagine if I had actually done something.
I saw that Molly made a few posts from her local library and her mother even emailed Alison to say that she would be getting back the computer she took away from her for badmouthing people online and making threats and to let her know if she says anything she shouldn’t be saying.
She’s not appearing on my tracker, but the library may have their cookies turned off.
sighs They say a mother’s love is unconditional. Well, usually it is unless you’re someone like Casey Anthony. But not everything and anyone deserves to be loved unconditionally if you ask me. Especially those that are hopeless. I really, truly believe Molly is beyond hope. I don’t think any amount of time, therapy or medication can change her. I think she was born crazy and she always will be. What’s the point of even letting these kinds of people live in society? Shouldn’t they be locked up with their own kind in a controlled environment forever so the outside world can be a little safer? I’m glad the mother is finally waking up where her daughter is concerned and has quit making lame excuses for her despite an understandable desire to want to defend her own flesh and blood. But daughter or not, the kid (and I will call her that because she acts like a kid even though she’s 28) is fucked up. Hopefully, her eyes will open even further and she’ll see that there’s no changing anything and will not so much as give up on her but will get her into some kind of institution. Does the woman really want to spend the rest of her life babysitting the nutjob anyway?
Maliheh never picked up the Webshots postcard I sent her unless they failed to notify me that it was delivered. I’m sure she’s having a rough life now just like she says she is, but I still think she’s playing with me much like Nane was. You gotta go by what people do and not what they say. Actions really do speak louder than words.
I was “reminiscing” about Nane in one of my Facebook notes. Wonder if Irene or Christiane mentioned it to her? LOL
Rain, rain, don’t go away. Rain, rain, keep Jesse away:) It’s not gonna stop him from running and gunning his truck, but it will keep him off of at least 4 of his 50 other vehicles:)))
Later…
I’m reading a book called Trapped by Jack Kilborn. It’s a good story so far, though I’m only 22% through it, but am a little disturbed by the author’s description of those with ADHD. Well, I have ADHD and yes, we have memory retention issues at times and a short attention span, but to say we feel no empathy or remorse and that we blame everyone else for what happens to us is pure BS. I won’t take the blame for someone else’s mistake, but I know damn well when I’ve made a mistake myself and I don’t mind saying so. I’m only human. Humans fuck up. As for empathy or remorse, of course I’m not going to feel bad for you if you should fall and skin your knees after you did me wrong. And like most people out there, the more you’ve wronged me, the less I care what happens to you. But I would most definitely feel bad if I wronged or offended those I care about. No doubt about that. And I empathize greatly when my loved ones and good friends are suffering. I think that the inability to feel empathy and remorse is a personality thing; not an ADHD thing.
It also disturbs me to hear some people refer to gays and lesbians as a “lifestyle.” If there’s any “style” in gayhood then there’s just as much in straighthood. To hear it referred to as an “alternative lifestyle” really pisses me off. Where’s the “alternative” to being yourself?
While I try to have a “to each their own” attitude and let people have their own beliefs, it’s hard to believe those who say things happen for a reason. I once thought this myself and sometimes I still do, but in most cases, I’m not so sure anymore. Good people suffer for seemingly no reason whatsoever. There is simply NO justifiable, sensible or rational “reason” why some kids are beaten to death by their own parents.
Nothing in the way of oink, oink and no warrants either. While it makes sense for them to give up on me as long as I don’t go to their jurisdiction, it also doesn’t make sense that they would give up on me with a history with this black bitch. Pigs, lawyers and judges break laws all the time. If they’re frustrated enough by the jurisdiction thing and they really want to get at me, they’ll find a way. They’ll be sorry. But they’ll find a way. My logical side knows it’s just a scam but my PTSD side knows otherwise. No one’s after me despite all she did to me in the past.
I miss blogging. I don’t miss the troll but I miss blogging and seeing who comes around and what they have to say. I feel like that’s something the pigs, blacks and Molly have taken from me, but I’d rather miss it for a while than deal with any shit that may arise from it until and if I see just how obsessed Arizona may or may not become with me. It’s not uncommon to think you’ve heard the last from the pigs about whatever, then boom! There they are come to haunt you again. Two times I was bullshitted by the police about things being “over.” I’d rather not have to but oh how I will be haunting right back if they tangle with me again!
I thought I might’ve had some dream last night that had to do with Tom getting a raise, but the dream wasn’t clear enough for me to say for sure. That would be nice, but he’s one of their highest-paid employees as it is and that makes it less likely that they’d give him a raise so we’ll see.
I also dreamed we were living in a tiny, dumpy old two-bedroom house in the city. It’s nice that it was a real house, though I don’t like that it was in the city or the “fog” that the closets contained, but yeah, that was one of its quirks, LOL. Foggy closets that needed their doors kept open in the wintertime to keep the mildew and musty odors away.
Still wonder if we’ll make it out of here this year or not. Maybe they won’t lay him off but maybe we won’t be able to get into an adult community either. And maybe all we’ll be able to find in the country that we can afford are dumps similar to this one unless we want a bigger dump in a seedy section of the city or to live on another shared property, and we don’t. This selfish bitch wants everything to herself:) It isn’t that we couldn’t afford to pay over a grand in rent; it’s that we don’t want the place sucking every last dime out of us like the motels and the Maricopa house did. In the past, it used to be important to me to have extra money for fun stuff. Nowadays it’s important to me in case we fall upon hard times, something we got especially good at.
Something good was going on in the dream I had despite the shabbiness of the house itself, only Tom was being secretive about it. Like he wanted to find out more about it, and then surprise me with whatever it was.
We’re done with the rain we had for the next week or so, which means warmer temps and a noisier landlord who will now have more options with which to annoy me. Instead of just his truck, he can now choose between the Harley, the dirt bike, the bulldozer or the ATV. I really gotta wonder just how many feet we need to place between us and our nearest neighbor in order to not have to hear from them every day. At just a few feet I pretty much expected it, but if they’re still annoying me from over 100 feet, I wonder if 10 miles would even make a difference so long as they’re our neighbors. beats head
TUESDAY, JANUARY 24, 2012 Why did Kevin E. request to follow me on Twitter, especially since I almost never tweet anymore? I’d never heard of him before but he’s some kind of songwriter and musician according to my research. I’m used to authors following me, but a songwriter and musician? I haven’t been into the music scene for decades. I still sing at times, but I haven’t danced or touched a guitar other than the ones I won long enough to sell since my mid-20s.
He’s following nearly 1000 people, has 11 followers mostly in the entertainment business, but hasn’t tweeted. The account looks legit, though, as did the guy who sent me an add invite on FB since I saw that we have 4 mutual friends (VH sisters) and he’s in the northeast and is around my age.
Couldn’t help but think of Maliheh when I saw this site that sells stone guitar picks. Someone tried to tell me they were made of dinosaur bones. Yeah, right. And my nose is made of Adolf Hitler’s last dump before he killed himself. LOL, how the hell can you play with picks made of stone anyway?
I can’t believe Andy hasn’t been banned from Formspring. They keep removing the hardcore porn pics he posts but he just won’t stop posting them. It’s like he’s addicted to the stuff. Or to grossing some people out. Yesterday he said he’d stick to soft porn. Yeah, right. For how long, 3 days?
The troll is already back to badmouthing Alison. I suppose I’m next, and then Kim and Kathy, more of her imaginary friends that she doesn’t get why they won’t talk to her. We knew it wouldn’t take long, though. What mommy doesn’t seem to get is that temporary punishment and banning her from the net won’t cut it. She’ll not only just carry on her shit from the library whenever she can, but will be right back to her threats and harassment as soon as mommy gives her back her computer. Mrs. M just doesn’t get that she needs to be kept from going online FOREVER or at least with someone looking over her shoulder and watching her every single move without so much as blinking an eye.
Aly’s review of Renting Ginny was very helpful. She’s the absolute best editor I have. Mitch is great, too. The only problem there is the UK/US English differences. Over here we simply do not spell color with a ‘u’ in it.
Although I have the basic ideas mapped out for Bunny Nose and will be starting C3 today, I’m not so sure just how evil I want to make “Bunny Nose” just yet. That would certainly be a cause of concern for the kind elderly couple that takes her in if others witness her doing crazy and even violent things. Or should another character be the nutcase? Every story deserves to have at least one batshit crazy character:)
Time to work out because no, I will not use my period as an excuse to be lazy. Then I’ll hit the shower in which the hot water still runs out too soon which means it’s something about this screwy shower itself or the pipes and not the tank. A 35-gallon tank should definitely not run out of hot water in less than 15 minutes.
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 25, 2012 I had a dream a few nights ago that Facebook forced the new timeline profile on everyone and I shut down my account and left for good. Then Tom read an article this morning confirming that they were going to do just that – force it on everyone as of the first (unless you want to change over sooner).
I noticed a few people already switched to the timeline but at first it seemed complex and didn’t interest me. The layout seemed sloppy and too cluttered at first glance so I shied away from it. Besides, I’m a hater of change for the most part. When I get used to doing something a certain way and get comfortable with it, I like to stick to it and not bother to change what works well enough for me.
So when Tom told me they were making it mandatory anyhow, I said okay, let me go check it out, see how much I hate it, then deactivate my account. However, I’m surprised to say that I like it very much and it really is simple to set up and navigate once you get the hang of it. It makes it much more convenient to jump from year to year instead of having to scroll and scroll and scroll down to the earlier stuff.
So only half of that dream has come true since I’m going to stick around after all!
THURSDAY, JANUARY 26, 2012 It’s back to being nice during the daytime and cold at night. Sooner or later I would think the rains will make their way back into the area and it will be cold night and day. I’m sick of the cold and it’s not even February yet! Damn, I hope we make it to Florida someday. I really do.
It’s too soon to say for sure but my nails do seem to be a bit clearer. The milky color has faded, and while my fingernails now look ok save for ridges, a few of my toenails still look discolored.
Tom’s back to having OT so hopefully, that means they won’t lay him off anytime soon.
I asked Teri and she advised me to do 3 sets of my muscle-building exercises and to do as many reps as I can until I can do no more. She said to rest for 3-5 minutes in between. Also, up the resistance if I have to do that many reps. So I’m now at 20 pounds and will work my way up to 30 which is as much as I’ve got here as far as resistance bands go.
If we ever make it out of here I think the only thing I’m gonna miss about this place is the cabinet support pole I’ve been using to do some of the exercises with. I could probably wrap bands around the treadmill’s rails, though, too. That’s what I have to do in order to work the inner thigh muscles. Anyway, all this “lifting” takes time and between that and the treadmill, I don’t care to spend nearly two hours a day working on myself, so I’m alternating between muscle and cardio workouts. I just hope it’s enough to get more weight off since the muscle pumping doesn’t get the heart pumping nearly as much as running does. Even walking briskly at 3MPH gets it going faster than when I’m lifting.
I messaged Jasmine from the old KB on FB yesterday but didn’t hear back from her even though she’s posted to her wall since then. I just thought I’d say hi but she didn’t like me very much in the end because of my views on blacks and the unfairness of reverse discrimination.
Maliheh not only still hasn’t messaged me but hasn’t picked up her Webshots card. Their notification thing is glitchy at times, though, so she still may’ve gotten it. As a test, I’m sending another Egreeting card. We’ll see if she picks up that today or if I at least get anything saying she did. I’ll have mixed emotions if I see she’s picked up this card. It would be a good thing because it would show she’s alive and well and is taking the time to read what I send. But it would convince me all the more that no matter what she says is going on in her life, she is ignoring me for some reason.
I sent Barbara a card yesterday and she didn’t pick it up, but she did pick up the one I sent before. Yeah, I’m definitely not going to hear from her again. No doubt about that one.
The troll’s worrying Alison with more and more talk about moving to Des Moines which is just a 3½-hour drive from the Omaha area. She fears something bad will happen if she makes the move, though I don’t see what could possibly happen. The troll can’t drive and if she’s got this supposed muscle condition which is part of why she can’t drive or run too well, then how could she hurt Aly? She’s crazy, but hopefully not crazy enough to get her BF, who’s got to be just as sick as she is, to drive her over to Alison’s and also a gun with which to shoot her. After all, I did say I sensed she’d be dangerous if she were in better shape and could get around easier.
Part of what seems to be motivating the troll is that right after she praised her family and said, “Who needs friends when you have such a wonderful family?” she’s not getting along with her parents and is fighting with her sisters as well. Her mother’s afraid to let her go for fear of her not taking her BC pills. Molly needs more than just BC pills, even though I can’t imagine her ever surviving for long in any long-term relationship, she needs her plumbing ripped out. She’s just the kind our twisted God would have knocked up, too. Just what the world needs – baby Mollys to add to the world’s craziness.
I’m trying to understand the world’s crazies just out of sheer curiosity. I mean what makes them tick? I know many things can contribute to one becoming a sociopath, a serial killer, and just plain crazy. But what’s the scoop in Molly’s case? Was it abuse that made her the way she is? Genetics? Something else? And just what does “crazy” mean? Does she even know what she’s doing? Sometimes I think she does because she has admitted in her blog to making threats and doing other things she shouldn’t be doing, but most of the time she seems to have no concept of right and wrong. Can she really tell the difference but is unable to keep herself from doing the shit she does anyway? Is she too out of it most of the time to realize her mistakes? Or is she fully aware at all times but just doesn’t give a shit?
Anyway, I think Mommy Dearest is worried about more than just BC. I think she not only knows the relationship won’t last, but she worries about just what kind of trouble her demented daughter may cause being so far away where she has no control over at least some of it. I think she fears she won’t take her psych pills and will eventually get in trouble with the law. I still can’t believe she hasn’t as of yet. Really, what’s taking so long?
Still editing and sprucing up my timeline and I’m sure I’ll make changes and additions for some time to come as I remember past events and stuff like that. What sucks is knowing they’ll just revamp the damn profile layouts again soon enough.
I wonder if Facebook is glitchy because it not only continued to say I have 37 notes after I posted one, but they’re saying I joined in October of 2007. But I swear I joined a year or two before that up in Oregon. I swear I remember changing my state of residence from Oregon to Cali.
They also say I have zero activity for 2008. It’s hard to believe I didn’t post or do something.
Since the new timeline makes it so much easier to see so much at once, I easily scrolled back to some posts Nane left over a year ago and couldn’t resist “liking” one. LOL, that’s gonna throw the bitch off, alright, when she gets notified of it:) I don’t know that they’re timelining Germany so she’s going to have a real WTF? moment trying to figure out how I could “like” something she posted when we’re no longer friends and she hasn’t even posted on my wall for a million years anyway.
Later…
OMG, I am laughing so, so fucking hard to myself right now I almost spit coffee out all over me! It’s a good thing Tom isn’t home now. I wouldn’t want to worry my lovable but sometimes paranoid husband into thinking I’m getting into trouble. Oh, it’s nothing illegal, but it’s so damn funny. I’ve got to make sure I only share this with Andy. We’re the only ones who have this much in common. We’re two pranksters at heart. I may have no desire to make prank calls, but oh the fun I have online at times! Only Andy would probably find what I’m about to say funny whereas Maliheh, Aly and everyone else would either be like, “Shame on you!” Or they just wouldn’t get it.
I’m friends with two of Nane’s friends right now, Christiane and Irene. Well, except for emails to Andy and Maliheh, Facebook is the only place I’ve been journaling lately. In fact, it’s pretty much the only site I hang out on these days except for when I play around with Andy on his Formspring page.
Anyway, I went to Live Mocha, the site Nane and I “met” on. Neither of us has been into LM for quite a while now. Nane’s third language is Turkish. She’s not fluent in it but has studied quite a bit of it. Especially since she vacations in Turkey 3-4 times a year and hopes to one day live there. LM is a social site as well as a language learning site where native speakers of whatever language you’re learning can leave you tips and correct any errors you make. So I went to an old spoken Turkish exercise of hers and after using Google to translate from English to Turkish, I left a “review” about just what I think about her dumping me and all that. No swears or threats or anything illegal, but nothing she’d be too thrilled about.
Only problem was she hadn’t logged in since August 23rd. Then I got curious as to whether or not Christiane or Irene might be reading my notes and decided to do a little test. I casually mentioned Nane and said that I still missed her at times even though I knew we were better off not speaking to each other, though she’s “probably going to want to strangle me for the Livemocha prank if she ever discovers it.” I was not only curious as to whether or not they may be reading my notes, but I kinda hoped they were and that they’d go tip Nane off so Nane could go see my little Turk prank. Hey, they gave me 20 free tokens to do it, LOL, not that I’m very active there any more than she’s been. I’ve taken all the courses I care to take until and if they ever add Hawaiian.
I posted this note a few days ago for them only even though they didn’t know it was for them only. But yeah, that’s the beauty of posting on FB; you can hide select friends from seeing certain posts or make them available to certain friends. However way you wanna go. Well, they didn’t say anything about it, but I just discovered that Nane deactivated her account, hahaha! The timing is quite a coincidence if you ask me, LMAO!
The thought of posting notes just for Christiane and Irene about Nane and I making up and even talking about visiting, knowing they’ll run and tell her about it, really amuses the hell out of me. :))))) OMG, I can’t stop laughing!
She also removed the ‘friends of friends’ weather post the other day. Now just the public post is there.
FRIDAY, JANUARY 27, 2012 Maliheh never picked up either postcard that I know of so now I don’t know what to think. My gut feeling is that she’s ignoring both cards. Maybe she somehow knows I’ll know it if she picks them up. Then again she could be out on the streets or back in Hawaii with a dying mother. Who the hell knows and frankly I don’t know if I care anymore. Keeping in touch once every week or two wasn’t much to ask for, was it? As of the first, I’m not sending any more journals she may not be getting until I hear from her. Enough of this one-sided friendship and feeling like I’m talking to a wall!
Jesse was quiet till 10:30 yesterday when I heard him come in in the truck. Because I hadn’t heard any barking all morning I figured he took the dogs with him or someone was at the house. But the instant he got in he came right back out to play. Yes, he just had to jump on the bulldozer until it rained. If he had any brains he’d wait to go bullshitting in May or June, but no, this boy just has to play with his toys. The rain was an unexpected surprise, but now the 5-cast is once again predicting nothing but sunny days.
The rat has been clingier lately for some reason. It’s cute but annoying at times the way he follows me around the place. He sure wouldn’t let me work out earlier. No, instead he just had to chase and play with the resistance bands I was trying to work with, LOL. Anyway, the attention junkie should sleep most of the day away now that he’s had his love, attention, treats, freedom and exercise.
And I’ll spend the day worrying. Especially after the dream, I had last night. Tom says there’s nothing to worry about and while I don’t have a sense of foreboding, it still worries one who’s prone to dream premonitions, and well, I worry if last night’s dream was a nasty sign of some kind.
In the dream, I worked in an office building (dreams and stories are the only places I can keep a schedule). I had a small office at the end of the hall and was in a much larger room next to it when I spotted these two detectives. I don’t know if I’d met them before or not but I somehow knew they were there for me. The one leading the way was a white, middle-aged guy who was kind of baldish and carrying a manila envelope. His partner might have been a younger non-white. Maybe skinnier and a touch taller, too.
The wall that ran along the hallway was mostly made of glass. I watched through the “window” as the guys spoke to a secretary who sat at her desk facing the room in this little nook-like area across the hall. She pointed toward my office and they headed to it just 20 or so yards down the hall.
The storage room or whatever it was I was in suddenly turned into a bedroom. A large bed stood against the center of the wall opposite the windows and I suddenly dropped to the floor and pressed myself against the side of the bed, unable to get much more than an arm and a leg underneath it. Then I realized someone would surely spot me and wonder what the hell I was doing lying on the floor. Jumping back up to my feet I ran out of the room and through the nearest door which was a bathroom. When the pigs saw I wasn’t in my office, I heard them come out and ask the secretary where I was. I didn’t think I’d been seen, but she said I was in the bathroom and I woke up as they said they’d wait for me.
Tom better be right about this whole jurisdiction thing! It’s just that I fear that since I know damn well and good that I never did anything wrong enough to give them a “case” other than say some things they wouldn’t agree with that they’ve gone and made a case against me. As in falsifying evidence in a way that could make jurisdiction not matter. I really think someone altered one of my emails to make it sound threatening. Damn me again for sending them!
But does the dream mean anything? Is it a sign saying they’re “closing in” on me? Are they planning on coming here or am I just going to get a threatening message of sorts saying something like either come forward now or else!
Well, the facts still stand. I have done nothing wrong other than express myself in a non-threatening way and I have nothing to say to the pigs. Just because some people don’t want to hear it and may be easily offended – hey, I didn’t force anyone to read anything. The fact that she couldn’t just hit the delete button or block me or mark me as spam is not my problem. It never will be my problem either. Sorry, bitch but whatever’s up there is going to be protecting me this time. It fed me to you once and this time it’s my back it’s got. How do I know this? I don’t for sure. It’s just a feeling. Maybe it doesn’t have my back at all any more than it did when it let her and several others shit on me. Maybe it’s me and my husband that has my back, and you know what? This time it’s going to be enough!
Anyway, I don’t want to spend my time writing about how I’m not going to fall for their shit this time around and how much I’ll sue or kill but definitely make them sorry they didn’t just ignore me. I want to go work on my story soon.
Damn! Not even the first month of the year is through yet and I’ve already written 50 pages!
Why has my hard drive been so noisy today? I don’t know enough about this Mac crap yet to be able to see what it’s doing but I hope it’s just scanning or updating and that I haven’t been hacked! I’m so paranoid about that after having 3 emails, 2 blogs, and 1 PC hacked.
Later…
It’s barely after 11am and already I’ve heard Jesse come and go 3 times. Does he have a roommate with a similar vehicle or what? I mean, if it’s just him, how many places could a guy possibly have to go so damn often? This, and constant company, would be my biggest concern being in an adult community. They just don’t stay put at any age. And they’re all company junkies!
Let me guess… now it’s time to play on the bulldozer, right? Why doesn’t he just zoom out on the Harley and leave me with the barking instead?
Again Andy had a porn pic removed from Formspring which he posted as my “punishment” for not making him laugh when I told him about them tipping Nane off about the LM prank. But it was funny. He said it wasn’t, though, cuz that’s what mutual friends do – talk. This was after just days of promising to “try harder” to post more pics I like. But as I knew all along, he’s got an obvious porn addiction going. That’s not the mystery. The mystery is why they just keep removing the pics and not sending him a verbal warning or kicking him off. They removed the pic pretty damn fast, too. Makes me wonder if Andy not only wants to get kicked off, but if someone’s allowing him to stay because of me. Maybe I’ve really gotten beyond paranoid with this theory. So far beyond it that I make Marie seem like she wasn’t paranoid at all. But really, what if? What if the pigs told them, “Look just deal with it for now. Just remove the dirty pics but don’t kick him off because we’re really interested in what one of his friends has to say.”
Again, I would hate to think they’d put their time and effort into what I have to say versus their local child molesters and wife-beaters, but so be it. That’s just our backward world for you. If I farted they’d be interested in me. But if I axed someone’s head off they couldn’t care less.
Ok, I’ve had it with this in-and-out shit. Time to get the wax plugin. Sad when you can’t even get any peace out in the country. Really sad.
Still trying to come to terms with the fact that I’m never going to lose weight. Never. And that’s because I won’t starve myself or cut down enough that I feel like I am. But it’s true, no matter how much exercising I do, I will always be around 140 pounds or higher.
I do like how good working out makes me feel, though. I love having all this muscle! I’ve been “lifting” like crazy. Each exercise helps with more than just the target areas. Running doesn’t just work the legs but firms the hips as well. Ab crunching also helps the neck and chin area so they’re less droopy. With age, the neck tends to drape down just above the collarbone but mine’s not doing that.
SATURDAY, JANUARY 28, 2012 Soon it’s off to work on my book and to let “Bunny Nose” and her devilish side come out to play as every good book deserves at least one good sociopath:)
Irene said there was an earthquake in Salzburg as well as northern Italy and that she felt her desk shaking at work. I didn’t even know they could get earthquakes there. I guess Nane didn’t feel it up in Munich? Either way, I got to learn a new word while I was at it – Erdbeben. That’s German for the word earthquake.
Irene seems to want to hook me up with one of her friends. In her twisted English, I got the sense that maybe the friend was from here. She mentioned Westwood. I told her to tell her she’s welcome to send me a friend invite and I’ll add her if she wants.
Got lots to do this weekend so I may not get much writing done on either journals or stories. Then again, I always have lots to do. It’s just that weekends are more for laundry and errands while weekdays are more for writing, housecleaning and working out. Today, though, I’m going to clean the bathroom while he does the grocery shopping. Then we’re going to do even more PC configuring and try to “build” one of the Mac word processors to suit my needs and tastes by altering their basic code, something anyone can do.
Tom said a tree went down by Jesse’s place yesterday. That may explain some of the coming and going I heard like half a dozen times yesterday.
Later…
It’s only the afternoon here but already I am exhausted from all the changes we’ve been making on my computer both on and offline. We killed my Gmail accounts since I don’t use them anymore. I’m also going to be deleting my account with Yahoo but will be sure to PM my top buddies with the new addy. It’s actually not a “new” addy, just one I haven’t used to enter sweepstakes with thus encouraging a ton of spammers and scammers.
Still wish it would rain away the chainsaws, motorcycles and dogs, but at least we save on propane this way. It’s so nice in the afternoons that it’s been getting up to around 80º in here in the afternoons. The nights and mornings are still cold, though. Right now I’ve got shorts and a sports bra on. You’d never know I was bundled up in my robe less than 6 hours ago.
MONDAY, JANUARY 30, 2012 I really hope last night’s dream was as meaningless as can be. Especially with my accuracy rate for seeing bad dreams play out in real life. Or at least something bad plays out after a bad dream. He was laid off in the dream and we were in some kind of fancy shelter, as funny as that may sound. Tom assured me the dream was too silly and ridiculous to mean anything. I hope so! But yeah, the shelter had beds much as you’d find in a hotel. You had a double bed, a nightstand and a round table that could be made “private” by pulling a curtain around the area like you would in a hospital room. Instead of being in a large room, it was long and narrow and carpeted. Our “room” was at the front end across from where someone sat at a desk.
I looked at the bed at one point to decide which side I wanted to sleep on. I chose the side closest to the table where the iPod would sit that didn’t even remotely resemble an iPod in the dream.
Then I stepped outside the curtain and looked out a large window to see a confused woman driver stalling in the middle of an intersection, unsure of where to go and pissing off fellow motorists.
Suddenly Tom and I were outside and we seemed to be stuck down in Arizona. Not a very safe place for whites to be, especially if those bullies with badges try to mess with you, but that’s where I “sensed” we were. I made a comment about there not being any birds around and Tom told me they all went to New York, LOL.
Again, I hope this dream isn’t a warning of anything bad to come. Although it’s been busy at work, we’re coming up to around the time when he would be laid off if that were going to happen. Besides, in the 4½ years we’ve been in this state we haven’t been allowed to have more than 6 months of smooth sailing at a time. He just learned that you can apply for permanent positions where he works. The only problem is that they’re minimum-wage jobs and he would have to take a hefty pay cut. Better to make more money as a temp than a little as a permanent, at least for now.
Tom says it’s getting close to where you can get a job in just a couple of weeks as was the case when we moved to Oregon in 2004 and here in 2007, but I think if he got laid off I may be tempted to just shove everything we could possibly fit into the car and head for Nebraska. I’d rather it not happen, though!
It’s just that I spent 30 or 40 bucks yesterday having fun at Kmart and Goodwill. We both still do like to shop and live life every now and then. We ate at KFC, too.
I got a couple of really colorful necklaces and this really cool bundle of bangles with glittery water inside of clear tubes with splashes of color. I don’t suppose most people my age would care for them, but I’ve always liked shiny and colorful things.
One of the coolest things I got is these decorative nail decals that you simply stick on. They seem to hold up quite well, too. I almost got kids’ nails that you glue on since my fingers/nails are so small, but I never cared for those things anyway.
I saw a really nice pair of boots I’m going to go back for at some point so long as everything continues to go well for us. They were black, low-cut boots without much of a heel. They’d look great in the winter when it’s too cold for sandals. I’d wear them with jeans and dressier tops that would look funny with sneakers.
I also saw a couple of pairs of earrings I liked. I may not have to have the lobe on my “fake” ear re-pierced if I just stick to danglies, something I like better anyway because the weight of them makes the lobes look less uneven. For now, I’ve got small silver studs in to help keep the bad one open. As usual, the earring went in quickly and painlessly in the good ear, but it took me several minutes of fighting with the bad ear to get the damn thing in as it’s been several weeks since I wore earrings. I’ve got to be sure to leave them in longer this time as ridiculous as I think they look with the way the bad side has sort of curled upward with time, making that earring seem higher and tilted compared to the other. If the danglies are big enough, though, like the ones I saw and liked, it looks more natural.
At the Goodwill store, Tom got a digital camera, only the lady was kindly dumb enough to charge him just 2 for the case, not realizing there was a camera inside it. He got it not because we need a digital camera (we already have one) but because he wanted the parts for another electronics project he’s working on.
For just a few bucks I found the perfect shower hooks with a flower design on them, so I took advantage of that and snatched a setup. Now, instead of those pain-to-use plastic snap-rings that break so easily, we have metal, easy-to-use hooks.
So other than a 99-cent body spray, a pack of Rain Garden incense, and a Bergamot Tea diffuser for the closet, that’s all we got. Fun, reasonable and much deserved, but I still feel a tinge of guilt anyway.
The laptop is all screwed up and super slow so Tom’s going to strip it sometime. All I use it for anyway is backing up stuff and playing music (it’s hooked to the stereo).
I gave people the email address I’m going to start using but must keep my old one active for a few more weeks till my other Facebook account is deleted. That way I can switch my main Facebook account over to the email address the other one is using. Deactivating doesn’t do me any good because signing in with the addy I want to use simply wakes that account up. So I submitted a deletion request.
Later…
The Jes pest just left in his insanely loud truck just a few minutes ago. I couldn’t tell if he had the dogs with him but I haven’t heard a single bark since he left. So he’s either got them with him or someone’s at the house. Sometimes I wonder if he got a roommate and if that could be part of the uptick in loud vehicles. If he’s hard up for bucks as we suspect he is it may make the idea of a roommate rather desirable to him.
As we were coming back yesterday, I looked at Tom and said, “Watch, now that we’re back we’ll have to hear Jesse. I’m sure it was dead quiet while we were out and that he was just waiting for us to get back.”
Sure enough, barely 15 minutes later he was gunning the Harley on and off.
Yesterday, it got up to 83° in the living room with the windows open. 79° in the bedroom with the window open and fan on. The heat should be off for the day now and in a couple of hours, the windows should once again be open. It’s nice to get some fresh air in here.
So now that I’ve decided to dump my Yahoo account now the spamarama trip stops. There’s still enough of it hitting the spam box, but I had been on a roll where a dozen or more messages a day weren’t being filtered out.
I asked Tom why it’s so important to close certain accounts and to stop public blogging if I’m out of the jurisdiction and he said it’s to untangle the past from the future. At first I didn’t get what he was saying till I realized that right now it’s very possible they could be looking for anything they can get me with. And if they can get me with something in the future that’s connected to the past, such as Google, the stem of all this bullshit, things could turn federal if they create enough “evidence.” It goes without saying that if they can fabricate a so-called case against me, they could fabricate – oh shit! Just when I thought I could enjoy some more peace until Jesse’s return, up they start with the damn saws. Those FUCKING MOTHER FUCKING SAWS! A few times a month was fine. But lately, it’s been a few times a week or more and by God is it getting old!
Back to the freeloaders, pigs and all things related. If they can bullshit up a case, they can bullshit up more evidence to compound things and make it into a bigger deal than they already made it out to be; big enough to possibly come after me with. That’s what happened the last time. But this time I do still have a few things in my favor I didn’t have 12 years ago besides more knowledge pertaining to Arizona’s barbaric laws and sentences. That’s the fact that they have no phone calls, no physical evidence, and they can’t summon AT&T for info because the net’s not in our name here. The best they could do is follow me online from here on out which they may or may not be doing.
Can I please stop shitting now? Really, what the hell’s wrong with me that I’ve had to shit 3 times when I’ve only been up for 7 hours. Barely.
It may sound funny but I feel more “exposed” here. Not in these woods, in this trailer. If anyone came snooping around it’d be hard to hide in here even with the blinds drawn and no sounds coming from inside. The slats on the blinds don’t close tightly enough and there are little peepholes along the edges and through the cutouts for the drawcords. The bathroom has a translucent window, but if I ran in there with the door open, they could see me through the blinds in the door across from the bathroom door. If I shut the door, they’d see that and think someone was probably here and in the bathroom. I guess I could run and hide in the closet if I saw any pigs lurking about, but IDK. sighs I don’t want to hide in the bedroom or have any of my movements and day-to-day living revolve around what the pigs may do. That only makes me feel more controlled and like they’ve won. They won before and I’m determined to do all I can never to let them win again. To never control our money, where we live, what we do, what I eat, what I wear, or when I can shower (in cold water). But that’s just the thing. I do have to be somewhat cautious so that they don’t win again. We can’t control whatever it is they did to make it appear as though they have a legitimate case against me, assuming it isn’t the scam it likely is. All we can do is control the future.
Keeping sounds from being heard outside these flimsy walls is hard, too. The floors can be heard creaking outside the place even from a light person walking slowly and gently. The washing machine can be heard easily and dishes clanking when I wash dishes. Tom’s snoring, toilet-flushing, faucets running, sound machines… one can hear it all if they’re right outside the place.
It’s just after 11:00 and Jesse just got back. Let me guess…it’s gonna roar out on the Harley next, right? Or will it bulldoze or ATV around the land instead?
Anyway, I’m trying not to worry about the freeloaders, pigs and layoffs, but it’s hard at times. The job’s not that big of a concern. But the pigs? I guess that will depend on how obsessed they are with me. Unfortunately, the pigs that usually work these so-called cases aren’t just bullies with badges but freeloading minorities who quite often dislike whites. So I’ve got a hater determined to legally “get” me on behalf of another hater. I just hope I’m not a very high priority on their hate list.
Even Tom’s going to eventually shut his own Gmail account down even though it hasn’t been implicated in anything, just so there are no more Google connections. Whether or not I’ll ever return to public blogging, where, and under what name is still unknown and undecided at this time. I miss it and I miss seeing who comes around, but I’m totally loving the break it’s given me from the trolls.
At first I didn’t want to do anything that could make me look guilty and like I have something to hide, but as Tom says, it doesn’t matter. He’s right and I don’t care how shutting down accounts makes me look. It isn’t appearances that matter, it’s the pigs’ actions, and I will do whatever it takes to protect myself from the badged bastards.
Ok, here comes the spamfest. Yes, I do feel better once again about deleting my Yahoo account.
I don’t get Andy sometimes. I know I should let others believe what they believe as we can’t help what we believe anyway. But sometimes he seems to make excuses for God’s unfairness towards him. IDK, it sorta reminds me of a woman making excuses for an abusive man. I just wish he would see God for His true colors. He said maybe God’s keeping him alone to protect him from diseases. But wouldn’t it just be simple enough to send him someone clean? To that, he said God works in mysterious ways. More like cruel and unfair ways if you ask me. Why is it so important to God that Andy be lonely all his life? Why is it important to Him that we spend most of our time struggling? Why it is important to Him that Alison has all kinds of health problems?
On the flip side, he pointed out that he is very blessed in other areas and considers himself 90% happy. That’s how I feel right now, too. The only thing spoiling these better days is knowing that the shit’s gonna hit the fan sooner or later and we’ll be right back to struggle our asses off and give God (or whatever may be up there) a good laugh while He watches us scramble to save our asses.
Later…
LOL, Christiane commented on a post of Nane’s bitching about the weather (-13º). I noticed she changed her posting visibility from public to friends of friends when she dumped me. Now they’re back to public. Wonder if Christiane took the time to tell Nane about the bullshit chat of ours I posted for select eyes only, particularly hers and Irene’s. It would be especially funny if she or Irene copied it for her:) Hmm… what shall we “chat” about next? LMAO!
TUESDAY, JANUARY 31, 2012 Got up at the crack of dawn. Another day of vroom, vroom, vroom… buzz, buzz, buzz… with maybe a few woofs thrown in. And those little pig worries playing on the back of my mind, of course. :-( But I’d rather vroom, buzz, woof than oink, oink, oink.
In a chipper mood and looking pretty fashionable for a work-at-home housewife with no plans to go anywhere today.
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pleasantspark · 2 months ago
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bro everyone saw your crash outs and videos calling people the r slur, dont act all innocent, especially when youre bffs with kiwifarmers who use the word in extremely hateful manners. kinda sad that youre evern friends with them, seeing as they have no respect for you and call you the r slur and tr*nny a lot. have some self respect.
I don't care. If you think it's not cool then that's your opinion. I don't have any alignment with the Farms as I don't go in there. I told you guys the only forum I go on is a Suicide Forum. I'm not joking and no it's not for "pity" if you disagree with my stance then that's okay but saying I don't have self respect for choosing to reclaim slurs Is the most ridiculous thing ever.
Imagine being this Terminally Online that you guys bullied someone over something so fucking stupid. Also id like to mention the same fuckers who started this also reblogged reclaiming slurs.
Also one thing. I was manic during those crash outs. Lovely to see ableism on my fucking page when I'm trying to sleep. I sincerely don't care about what the KiwiFarms does because like it or not. It's a free speech forum. The only reason why they're allowed to stay up is that.
I don't bother with the site. My friend barely even contacts me in regards to the Hazbin shit anymore. Since she gets it here herself. She only contacts me because I reached out in regards to important shit.
I don't know why you guys sincerely think it's funny trying to pin shit on me when I'm not the one reblogging reclaiming slurs and being a goddamn hypocrite. Truly the world would be a better place if everyone can shut their mouths and learn to respect one another.
But I'm starting to see how Viv sees how the world works. In this day in age. You aren't given respect because it's up to the faceless asshats to give them in return.
No one here has self respect and yet I'm supposed to have it? Fuck off. I lost respect for myself the moment asshats like the critic community harassed underage victims for being proshippers.
I don't really care about the discourse but people like them makes me sick. Knowing I've been groomed into it and no adult had helped me.
"self respect" yeah you didn't know I had to sell my body to get by. But no one really watches their tongue. Fuck off with your performative self censored bullshit. I've been through enough and I'd like to have my mouth kept out of. SB also has requested everyone leave me alone.
It's funny really none of you really see the real picture. You believe petulant manchildren over the fucking truth, Everytime. It's always my fault and not the two other grown adults is it? Am I expected to take responsibility for two grown adults.
I'm tired of people harassing me for being myself. I'm not hurting children, I'm not hurting animals. All I said was retarded and that's the worst date then death.
I hope y'all get help. Because this shits the most stupidest shit and you're not getting any attention for your moral fagging. Like who TF takes internet seriously. No one does.
Also I can't control my friends. So it's not my fault for what they do. Dumbass
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hawkswildfireheart · 6 months ago
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Happy Wednesday kids, hope your day went better than mine
That you don't have symptoms of carbon monoxide poisoning after spending 3 hrs in a confined, poorly ventilated trailer getting smothered by diesel exhaust. And no one in management, maintenance, or the service guys that were actually causing the problem would listen
Or that it was in the negatives for temps, so that just deflating the air bags for fresh air or air flow wasn't an option for more than a couple minutes at a time
Or that your supervisor wouldn't even bring it up to your manager during a morning leadership meeting, while simultaneously getting multiple texts from people in the building complaining about the exhaust smell and still dismissing it
Or that maintenance shows up 2.5 hrs after you put in a work order for fans to help get air circulating so try to help the smell IN THE WHOLE FUCKING BUILDING and just laugh and say, no it's fine....until one of the girls from CT who is over it and super nauseous at that point threatens him with getting locked in a room with our supervisor and manager and having all that exhaust pumped in for 3 hrs straight, and then he can laugh and say it's fine (that finally shut him up)....he never did bring fans, asshole.
Or that it took one of the girls from X-ray to flat out tell our manager that "sympathy/empathy/concern for the staff directly impacted by the fumes would be a nicer approach" after we were crashing out in the huddle chat and he was basically just yelling at us and talking down like it was somehow our fault (he did change his tune after getting called out, and did actually come on site to check in with us and see if we were ok, and ask for screenshots of all communication to so he could review and see where the ball got dropped that we weren't being taken seriously.....even though we'd already said multiple times that we weren't feeling well)
Stupid service guys that kept moving their trucks back to that same spot so all the exhaust was getting trapped in that same confined space and making things worse....despite multiple people telling them to move or shut their trucks off cause it was a huge problem
Nvm that later I almost ended up fighting an old man cause dude just could not for the life of him take any sort of accountability for having not listened to directions and he decided to take it out on me and argue and complain, then interrupt when I'd go to answer his question while also getting mad that I wasn't answering cause he wouldn't let me speak. I have never wanted to fight a patient so much in my life. Like sir, I could have died this morning, and you're going to bitch at me cause you didn't realize a 45 min exam was going to take that long???? Wtf is wrong with old people
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twentysomethinginorlando · 11 months ago
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Yo if you’re here for dinosaur content you can just skip this one.
A couple months ago, my husband was in a horrible car crash. He walked away, but it was a hit and run. They never found the guy.
I’m disabled if you’re unaware. Walking distances isn’t really my thing. But I was a mile from the crash site, I had an iPhone notification the love of my life was in a traumatic car crash, and he wasn’t answering the phone. I got myself there. I hurt myself doing it but I made it.
News was out before I even got to the hospital because people we knew drove by and saw him. Next thing I knew I had dozens of messages flooding my inbox with people saying they wanted to help, people generally freaking out, and saying they were on their way.
Look thats great and all, but it resulted in me spending the rest of the day managing everyone else’s feelings. Not mine. Not my husband’s. Everyone wanted a job, wanted to feel helpful and important. I just wanted to fall apart in peace. I managed to delegate jobs that could be done, and took off with the least likely to annoy me person to accomplish the thing I -had- to do.
I had a melt down in the ten minutes I was at CVS waiting for the pharmacist to come back from lunch. That was all I got.
In the days that followed, I didn’t know who to ask so I had to make social media posts for the things we needed help with. It was slow going and awkward and I hated every second. Everyone means it when they say they’ll help. Everyone means well. But fuck, I have four people driving to my house I didn’t ask for and I just need a lift to MY car. And don’t get me started on our fucking parents.
I still have all this stress and trauma I haven’t processed. And I feel guilty because why should I be stressed? I wasn’t in a horrible accident. It didn’t happen to me. This isn’t about me. It’s about him.
It didn’t hit me that maybe it wasn’t so selfish until I was telling a customer who knew he liked the same band as my husband about the crash.
This man stopped dead in the middle of our convo to go, “How are you doing with all that?”
I didn’t have an answer. I still don’t. Not well is probably accurate.
I was telling two of my regulars about it because they’d never seen my mobility device (again, hurt myself!) and they were just like oh god are YOU okay?
No, no I’m not.
This all probably sounds bitter and ungrateful. Its not. A lot of people also came through in the days after the crash, kept us fed so we didn’t have to stress. I’m just so tired of not sleeping two months later.
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cerebral-device · 2 years ago
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Dextering it up today
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