#Ship Oil Tank Cleaning

[ashen-char]

expensive cars never took me where you do

ship: anora mikheeva (anora) x gender neutral reader

summary: being a mechanic dating a stripper is hard because you never get to spend enough time together. so anora spends a day in your garage.

word count: 3000+

notes: requested here. enjoy!

With your respective jobs, your schedules don't allow much time to be together. Not much overlap when you're in the garage from 8-6 every week day, while Ani's out from 5pm to the late morning stripping. Weekends, your main time for relaxation, were HQ's busiest times. As such, you had to make the most of the time that you did get. No more meal prepping for Ani when she gets home, for example. You took it upon yourself to whip stuff up for her to take to work in her trusty Tupperware, saving you two some much-needed cuddle time. Plus, you loved the awed look on her face whenever you made her favourite meals, the way she'd dance and hum happily when you let her taste-test it.

The train blares its horn, rattling Ani's entire room as it passes by. Cheap rent, Ani had explained the first time you stayed over and jerked awake to the sound, startled by the sudden noise and movement. She hadn't even opened her eyes, just stayed cuddled up on your chest. She's used to it. Even after months of dating her, it wakes you up everytime, which makes Ani laugh, teasing and calling you 'Princess and the Pea' for being so sensitive. So right now you're wide awake, checking your phone to see if she'll be home soon.

wifey💕: on the subway now! keep the bed warm 💋

You smile, sending back a kiss of your own. "stay safe," you type.

It's 4am when Ani slips into the room. Her harsh expression (or resting bitch face as she sometimes refers to it as) softens when she sees you, and she quickly sheds her coat, scarf, and beanie as well. "Why are you still up, dummy? You're gonna fall asleep on the fuckin' job, I swear..." she chastises.

"Sorry, babe," you whisper, stretching and shifting over to your side of the bed to let Ani into the sheets. "I knew you were coming home soon is all. Wanted to see you come in."

Your sleep shirt, like most of your clothes really, has these distinct splotches of oil on them. Made worse by your bad habit of wiping your hands on whatever's around. After years in the garage, you've learned to not bother with trying to keep clothes looking clean. The very worst of them get turned into rags or purely as sleep clothes since you don't like wasting anything. 'Waste not, want not' is a deeply-rooted mantra from when you didn't have the money to dispose and replace things so easily.

"I'm just saying." Ani shrugs, slipping the rest of her clothes off too. Fluid in her movements, as if her commute clothes were made to be taken off just like her HQ attire.

Your eyes trail over her frame appreciatively, taking in the rose tattoo at her ribcage that makes you smile, or the slight muscle of her core and arms. She's fit. She needs to be to work the pole like that, but can't put on too much muscle to turn away the knuckleheads that frequent Headquarters. Stupid but it brings in the dough, as Ani would say.

"Don't blame me if you smash your finger in a door again 'cause you weren't paying attention," she says, giggling when she throws her tank top at you. You catch it, give it a deep sniff. "God, you're so gross!" Ani complains. There's that laugh you were looking for.

"I'm not that clumsy." You frown, but it's hard to keep on when she's giggling like that. "It just clipped me, I didn't lose a nail or anything."

After slipping one of your larger shirts on - which almost comically swallows up her frame - she finally slips in beside you. You kiss Ani's cheek, and let her cuddle into you. Even if you know you smell of grease and gasoline and she's gonna cuss at you and say you need a shower. Burrowing her nose into the crook of your neck, she inhales you deeply, letting your scent fill her lungs. With the way she hums, you know she's content. Soothed. Letting the night melt away, all the pressures of the club or the bullshit from Diamond. She doesn't have to be on, not when she's here with you.

"Some of your body glitter's still on ya," you tell her. Your finger dabs at the corner of Ani's neck, which must have been missed by her makeup wipes.

She shivers at the contact. You used to be insecure of the fact that your hands feel like sandpaper but Ani sure seems to love it. One time she told you it was weird that you've never seen her as 'Ani'. The way she is in the club, she meant. No makeup, no heels, no cute little outfits. Of course, she likes to glam up when you two do make the time to go out on dates, but it's not similar to what she puts on for the club. Doesn't have to think about balancing the right amount of cling to show off her assets with the ease of removal.

With you, Ani said she felt like the girl she was before all this. Before the club, before Vanya, before the glitter and glam. There's nothing sexy about your lives, really. Both of them working shit jobs, living paycheck to paycheck. But for some reason, she found it comforting.

"Well, I missed you."

She's so tired. Never enough sleep, always on the go. But your body is warm and solid and she can relax. Just for a bit. "I missed you too," she mumbles. "Even if you fuckin' stink or whatever."

Ani lifts her head to look at you, eyes soft. "What time you gotta be at work?

"In a few hours," you answer in a groan. You didn't want to be reminded of it. You hate leaving before she wakes up, hate the way her body always tries to cling to you by instinct. Feels wrong, even if you know it's necessary. "The new apprentice, Jon, he still needs to be trained. He keeps texting me dumb ass questions. Like, dude, change the oil, you don't need my permission!"

"Mm I getcha. Like sometimes I show new girls the ropes. I remember Lulu being the newbie once actually," your girlfriend shares. "Poor thing. She was scared shitless when she mixed up a song request and didn't know how to play it off like a pro yet."

Ani tells you about the 'fresh meat' sometimes, how they're usually gone within the month when they realise the gig's not their thing. Usually 18-21, the type of girls that got told they were pretty enough times to want to make some coin off of it but without any dance training to speak of. The established girls do their best to make the space inviting and fun. To guide them to the right classes, how to manoeuvre around the club and look impressive on the pole without getting hurt. But ultimately it's their choice. Leave or stay.

Mostly, your definition of 'training' is trying not to yell at the poor kid, unless it's a safety concern obviously. He's an idiot and fixing his mistakes is a pain in the ass, but you don't want him quitting. It'll be more annoying to find a replacement since you've already spent the last few months making sure he can do shit without your supervision. The garage is small, started off as a glorified chop shop that you converted with some friends,

You must have gotten lost in your thoughts for a while, because Anora laughs at your scowl and shoves you. "Geez, who pissed you off? You're not even listenin' to me now huh?" she complains from her spot on your chest.

"Sorry, sorry. Just the apprentice. Broke a 10mm bolt today."

"Boooo. Speak American. What the fuck is a millimeter." Her eyes roll at the excuse and the metric system, and her sheer... Anora-ness makes your bad mood lift and a smile crack.

Which is where the idea comes from. "Do you have any days off soon?" you ask.

Anora shrugs. "Yeah, this Thursday. Why?"

"I want you to visit the shop! Come on. Didn't you always say you wanted to come and 'see what I do all day'?"

Her nails scrape up your arms, and her words are mumbled and muffled against your chest. A vibrating sensation that tickles you. "What would I even do there though? No offense, I'm sure it's riveting, but you can't exactly entertain me if you're working. Plus, when I said I wanna visit I meant I wanted to drop in sometime, give you coffee or something. Not... what, sit there and look pretty?" Anora laughs at the image, shaking her head against you. It's clear she thinks she'll just be a burden if she comes, that she'll do more harm than good.

"For one, I'd be a lot less stressed explaining myself over and over to him if you were at the shop. I could pretend I'm explaining to you," you say, trying to convince her.

Honestly, the idea of Ani 'sitting there and looking pretty' has already won you over. Who wouldn't want their gorgeous girlfriend there to impress with their mad car skills? You've been dreaming of this moment since you were a teen, fixing up a rusted hunk of a truck. Looking back it's embarrassing, but you were convinced that if you got it up and running, your crush would've swooned and asked you to give her rides to school then and there. Explaining your passion to a beautiful girl, showing off your hard work and how you could help her... it's a fucking dream.

Anora giggles. "Oh, I'm sure. You just wanna flex your mechanic brain and your stupid sexy muscles." Tilting her head up, she flashes those big brown eyes at you and you're gone. She's so heartbreakingly perfect like this. No makeup, bags under her eyes, the natural pout of her lips. Tired, from all the hard work and effort she puts into everything she does.

"Come on, please?" you ask, tilting your head down in response so your forehead meets hers. Skin to skin, gaze to gaze. Her nose presses into yours. "I wanna spend more time with you. I wanna show you what I do. Bonus points that it'll help me not scare off the new kid."

Anora nods sagely, like it's a sacred task you're entrusting to her. Her arms wrap around your neck, keeping you pressed against her. She's definitely not complaining about how you smell now. "Alright, grease monkey. I wanna be wowed."

--

"OK, you might remember this one. That's what I attached my cables to when your car wouldn't start," you say, gesturing to the battery, particularly to the red end in case it looks familiar to her.

To you, it's unforgettable how the normally cool and confident Ani was shaking in her leather boots when you told her to clamp it. Like she thought she'd get electrocuted then and there. Anora grasped you so hard, and your heart thumped at the knowledge that she trusted you'd never let something bad happen to her.

Ani leans against the wall, watching you work under the hood of a car. Her arms are crossed, one foot kicked up behind her, resting against the wall. She's putting on her best 'cool girl' attitude, but inside, you know she's fascinated. You know your shit.

"So, like, what's all this stuff do?" Ani asks, gesturing vaguely at the engine. "It's all just metal and wires and shit to me. Rusted shit."

You chuckles, wiping your hands on a rag before taking hers. "Well, babe, this here's the heart of the car. The engine. Makes it go vroom vroom," you teases, revving an imaginary engine.

Ani rolls her eyes but smiles. "Okay, smartass. But like, what do all the parts do?"

You take the time to point to the different components, explaining in layman's terms. The specific car you're looking at is one from a regular customer, so you've run maintenance on it for years. You tell her stories of the parts you had to replace, especially the shitshow last month when you had imported specific parts from Japan and the apprentice misplaced them.

Ani listens intently, asking questions when she doesn't understand. She grins like she's won the lottery whenever you tell her she asked a great question. You involve Jon too - if it seems like something he should be able to handle, you make him answer it. Correcting him when he gets something slightly wrong, or if you wanted a more detailed explanation. It makes you laugh when Jon messes up his words because Ani is just that gorgeous. As for the complicated ones, you're patient, breaking it down so she grasps the basics.

"So, like, this is why it's important to get your oil changed regularly," Ani says, tapping the oil pan. She's squatting down to watch you as you're laid out on the dolly. "Cuz if it's all gunked up, the engine can't, what, lubricate itself or something? No lube is rough, I get it." She sighs, patting the hood like she's empathising with it.

That makes you chortle, never prepared for Ani's crass jokes or references to your very active sex life. "OK, hold on, no lube has always been your idea!" you protest, giving a weak kick from underneath.

"I didn't say I didn't like it~"

"Alright, masochist." Rolling your eyes now, you focus on her actual observation. "And to your previous point, exactly," you beam, proud of her. "See? You're a quick learner."

Ani preens under the praise. "I got a good teacher."

She helps you out from under the Nissan Tiida, sliding you back out. Work's slow sometimes. The city's got a lower amount of people who own their own cars, and you don't like the monotony of working on the same make over and over, so you don't usually go for fixing up taxis or rented cars. This specific one has been a passion project, something you toy around with when there's not much to do. You've wanted to take it home for a while, but you've been holding off. Not until it's perfect.

"Alright. What's, mm, that one?" Anora asks.

Standing up, you come up behind her, your warm breath on her neck as you lean over to see what she's pointing at. "That's the intake manifold. It brings in the air and fuel mixture the engine needs to run. Sometimes it cracks and leaks out more air than it should."

Ani nods, trying to wrap her head around it. "Okay, I think I get it. So, like, if this thing's fucked up, the car won't run right? Or at least the engine will go fucky."

"Pretty much," you confirm, wrapping your arms around her waist now. Jon's off on a lunch break. You make him go pick up burgers at a spot a few blocks down when the shop's quiet like this. Means less time of him hassling you. "But don't worry, I'll always make sure our ride is in tip top shape."

You press a kiss to her hair. The tinsel in it always falls straight down, which is why Anora straightens her hair every day to make it look right. With you, all natural without anyone else to impress? Her hair's got her natural waves, looking healthy and sleek.

Ani melts into your embrace, leaning her head back against your shoulder. "I know you will, babe. You're the best."

The two of you stand there for a moment, just enjoying each other's presence. You can't help it. You wanna tell her everything, there's a compulsion in you. Then you pull away, taking Ani's hand. "C'mon, I wanna show you something."

You lead her to the car you were just working on, opening the driver's side door. It's not flashy, not luxurious or even running perfectly yet. But it's got its charm. The seats are comfortable unlike leather which gets hot quickly, it's surprisingly spacious on the inside, and the wooden look of the interior detailing makes it look and feel cozy.

"What are you-"

"I bought it for us. Out of pocket," you explain, helping Ani into the passenger seat. "It wasn't cheap, but it's been sitting in the shop for months, and I just couldn't let it go to waste."

Ani runs her hands over the dashboard, the textured cream seats. It's not new, but it's been lovingly restored. All by you. No way you'd let Jon touch this. "It's beautiful," she breathes. "Did you do all this?"

You nod. Her awed look makes you push out your chest a little, ego thoroughly inflated. "Most of it. I had a friend look at the AC, but yeah. This is all me, babe."

Ani turns to you, throwing her arms around your neck. "I love it. I love you. You're amazing," she gushes, peppering your face with kisses.

"I figured it was time we had a real car. One that's ours. No more borrowing beaters or taking the subway everywhere. Even if you say it's alright and you like the subway." You return the 'I love you' and pucker your lips for her to kiss.

"Thank you," Ani whispers, cupping your face in her hands. "You're the best partner a girl could ask for. I mean that. Who the fuck fixes up a whole car just to surprise their girlfriend?"

"Anything for you, princess," you murmur against her lips.

"Princess?" Anora playfully shoves you away. "You're fucking high."

But you mean it. You wanna spoil her to the best of your abilities, wanna make her feel like a princess even with your meagre funds and lack of time together. You want to make her feel like the most special girl in the world.

"How about I take you for a spin in our new ride?" you offer. Your hands grip the steering wheel, the polished wood under your hands. "And the best part! No more relying on the subway. I know this isn't exactly rolling in style but..."

Anora shakes her head, taking your hand. It's calloused and rough, but the way she holds it makes you feel like you could be tender in your own way. Makes you appreciate that your hands and hard work is the way you show it, not by blowing cash. "It's perfect," she tells you. "Because you did it, because you wanted to provide. That's all I need."

"Better than the limos Ivan rode you around in?"

Anora rolls her eyes, looking at you like it's a stupid question. Because how could she even compare the two when you're in front of her, giving her everything you can? "No competition, baby. I thought I wanted that, back then, but you're what I was really waiting for."

It's so mushy and vulnerable, coming from her. Just straight from the heart. "I'm nothing special," you attempt to refuse.

"You're the only fucking one who knows what I need. Who gives it to me, no matter what it is," Ani tells you, refusing your refusal. "You've got me. Body and soul."

[postersofleon]

My Ex Girlfriend Is Still Hot

Being recommended this place was good, apparently they can fix any vehicle at a cheap price, but it's not the cheapness that first attracted Leon into this place. It was seeing his ex-girlfriend covered in oil. It had been years since he had seen her, she looked older, but that that didn't reduce his love.

content: angst, fluff and smut

notes: afab fem!reader x leon, reader is divorced mom, mentions of leon's situation-ship with ada, reader is mean to leon (he kinda deserves it), fixing old relationships, baby!, leon is in love with the past, mentions of leon's unhealthy coping mechanisms. the smut is kinda fluffy. this took forever. rewriting and writing again. blah, anyways, minors, um, be care what you read. don't interact, the standard stuff, sorry. also, um, i don't know how this was. it felt rough, sorry. not prove read and... it's long

part one (here)

taglist: @argreion

He was tired. Leon couldn't deny that his 'exciting' life had bored him and broken him up. It was always issue one or issue two causing problems, but he won't think about it.

All he wanted to do now was fix his poor bike that got destroyed after his fight with Maria. His body was still sore from his body being infected, from his body being hit once again. He stepped out of Chris's truck and entered the garage to fix his favorite vehicle. A teenager was flicking through his phone; the kid was kind of covered by oil stains. Eh, he is willing to trust Claire's recommendations of fixing cars. The kid looked old enough, probably fourteen or fifteen to handle himself here.

"Um, hey." He put his hands on his jean pockets, Leon cleared his throat a bit, "I'm guessing you aren't the owner, huh?" The kid slowly looked up at Leon, he looked annoyed as hell to see him, "Duh." He put his phone back in front of his face. Leon cleared his throat again, "Well, is the owner here, kiddo?"

"Mom!" The kid yelped loudly.

Leon pursed his lips together. This kid had lungs. He heard boots approaching them, a woman appeared, "Sorry about the wait." Her hands grabbed a rag and cleaned her hands up. In that exact moment, Leon immediately recognized her- it felt like a one of those smacks he was used to. Her eyes went on the ground for a bit before looking at his eyes.

"So, how can I help you?" She put her hands on her waist. Leon swallowed his spit that was forming on the back of his throat, "Oh, I was..." What the hell? Was he returning back to his stupid roots when he was always awkward with women. He pressed his lips into a line, his mouth now felt dry as hell, "My bike... it needs to be fixed." Finally. Those poor words seemed to struggle to even pop out of his throat.

She nodded her head, "Yeah, can I see the... damage, jeez." Her eyes widen at the extent of the damage, pieces of the bike were dangling and sections of it was scrapped up and turned into a small balls of metal.

Did she recognize Leon?

Stupidly, that was he first question when she tilted her head to see the damage from bellow. She turned to see her... son. Gosh, Leon just connected the points that this kid was actually her son.

"Hey, bring me the gloves," She cleaned her already dirty hands with her black tank top, "There are on top of engine I just bought." With every word she spoke, Leon recalled how much he adored her.

The kid nodded his head and hurried to another room leaving Leon alone with you Her eyes met his, "Are you sure you wanna fix it up?" She put her hands on her waist, "Everything will have to be replaced, and..." Her eyes trailed off to the room where her kid went, "I can promise cheap, but this baby needs all whole bath on oils."

Leon nodded his head. "Yeah, it's one of my favorites."

She looked back at him, a certain similar twinkle was in her eyes, "Oh, curious, you have more?" Leon felt his heart freeze for a second, "Yeah," Leon muttered softly, "My friend, Claire made me like motorcycles." Leon knew it. He knows she recognizes him, but she making herself like she doesn't remember. Before he could comment her child came back with the gloves, she put them on and got on top of truck, she sat on the edges of the truck and moved the bike around.

"So, how much will it cost me?" Leon asked her.

"By the way you treated her, I want to say 100k, but," She jumped off, "You are lucky I have spare pieces everywhere in this shop. The engine, the clutch, the starting gear- everything got broken one way or another." She took off her gloves for a second, "So, it'll be 20 something. The bike looks from this year so it's pieces might be a little expensive or further on."

Leon nodded his head, "Y-yeah, okay."

Her kid and she got on top of the truck and carefully unloaded it to the ground. Leon swallowed, seeing her get dirty was something he never expected from her. Leon helped her down this time, her hands grabbed his arms to assure a safe fall. "It'll take a while to patch her up." She said. Leon smiled, "You do remember me." He whispered.

She rolled her eyes, "You..." She fell into his trap. Trusting his hands on her body would be a red flag to anyone, but for her... it was normal. Seventeen years without seeing each yet, his touch was normal... still normal. "I hate you, Leon Scott Kennedy." She pushed his hands off her waist. Leon tsked his tongue, "I know you do." He can't even deny it. Yet there was a nice feeling. That sense of comfort he never apparently lost.

She gave him her back, "I'll finish the motorcycle as soon as I can." She muttered softly. Leon felt his body hurt, this feeling was always so familiar. The bittersweet feeling of appreciation. Leon stepped forward without thinking, "I'm sorry." He muttered softly. She gave him the finger.

Leon clenched his jaw. "Are you married?" Leon muttered again in his low voice. "I'm sorry for touching you-"

"I'm not married, and my status shouldn't matter to you." She snapped back. Leon nodded his head. He used to not super care if married women threw themselves at him, but hearing those words made a huge pillow to the fall. Hearing her angry was something Leon barely heard from her. But that's what happens when you just leave.

Her son kept an eye on Leon now.

"Is the kid mine?" He whispered softly.

All he was met with was a witch's laugh, you couldn't stop laughing at his utter audacity. "Y, you think I would just have your child and not tell you?" You turned around, you couldn't even see him in this exact second, but it was your job now tying you to him. You could reject fixing his motorcycle. Though, that will make you weak. He left and you are still crying over the past.

"When I heard about what happened in Raccoon City, I thought you died," You licked your lips, the nerves were shaking every detail of your mind, "Not even a letter, a phone call, a fax." Your hands went towards your face and gently rubbed the veins that were slowly popping. "I waited for two years. You know, like a fucking idiot."

The shop was silent. Everyone couldn't look at each other and... once again your dumb feelings got in the way.

"Then, I find out you saved the president's daughter. That was the only damn news I got from you and it was thanks for the government." You turned around angrily. Finally, those tears began to form under your eyes, it was frustrating seeing that idiot with a smile. You only knew Raccoon City got infected, you knew they bombed it and after nothing. Maybe you were selfish. But... didn't you have that right?

Those feelings. Those damn feelings.

"What was the reason's name?" You asked softly.

Leon blinked.

"Name?"

"What was the person who stole your heart? Made you forget about the people you knew in college? The people in our town?"

Leon swallowed. Would you even understand what he went through? Seeing those mountains of dead bodies forming because he accidentally helped Ada? He wanted to help people so badly that he had forgotten the life he once lived. He was a hockey player who lived with his grandmother until she died when he was nineteen. Yet... was he even that guy anymore?

Apparently, the only person who knew him from the past was you. Only you.

"If I tell you, you won't believe me." Leon sighed, his blue eyes met yours, and a sad smile appeared in his lips. "A little girl named Sherry." He crossed his arms against his chest.

"Yeah, was that an excuse to never call for the last couple of years?" You retorted back. "Leon, you didn't leave for a couple of days or weeks. You were gone for six years until I knew you were alive and another couple of more years happened. You left for seventeen years."

All those years passed, yet Leon couldn't stop looking at you. He nearly forgot your details. Even if you are angry with him, he is happy to remember your face and your voice.

"Sorry." Apparently, that made you angry. You didn't mean to, but sometimes you didn't know how much you dealt with him.

-

You refused many times to see him as you fixed his bike, and Leon was trying to fix what he broke. He wanted to ask about your child, who just played with his phone and sometimes helps.

He wanted to ask about your old marriage.

Leon just sat down beside your son, "So, your mom-"

"Not talking to you." The kid immediately said. Leon nodded his head, "About your mom or about everything?" Leon asked politely.

"Everything."

Great. This kid is stubborn. Leon began to tap his thighs, he can try to ease up the kid and get what he wanted. What do kids think is cool? Gun? Zombies? That was Leon's life in a nutshell. "Alright, I'll tell you about me." He sighed softly. "I'm Leon Scott Kennedy. I was born in 1977, my parents died in a car crash, and I was raised by my grandma." Wow, he truly barely spoke about his past until now.

"I met your mom in high school, but I properly knew her when I went to her work." He could easily now remember how you asked for orders, and Leon mumbled a shy, "Milkshake."

"She... she wasn't my first love, but she slowly turned into my first." Leon sighed softly. He smiled. He couldn't get rid of those feelings, but that sad feeling came into his mind. She was his first love, and he nearly forgot about her.

"When I went to Raccoon City, I thought about your mom. She thinks I didn't, but I did." He muttered softly. He leaned back to the chair, "But once you see your first death, it's not even a normal death," Leon chuckled bitterly, "A zombie eating a person up. Zombies are trying to desperately kill you." He clenched his jaw as he thought about his shitty life.

"I know I should've called. I should've called her and told her I was fine, but I wanted to be a hero so badly. I volunteered to be one of their guys to be trained..." He closed his eyes. He could've just gone home. Gone back to your arms and forget, but it was too late to defend himself.

"I had a girlfriend - Ada, when I was in that life." Leon muttered softly, "I was desperately trying to search your mom in her." Poor Ada. Having to deal with his dumb issues, he caused himself.

"I got angry at her for not being her. I remember when she betrayed me, I was shocked because I knew your mother would never." He rubbed gently his wrist.

The kid turned to see Leon. It's as if Leon could feel the judgment of the kid, "I don't know what to say." The boy turned off his phone.

Leon nodded his head, "Your mom is allowed to hate me." He whispered softly, "I fell in love with another woman that wasn't her yet I begged her to be... her." Leon rubbed his mouth firmly. He wanted to shut the hell up. He didn't want this kid to actually have a valid reason to hate him.

"Don't be like me, kid." Leon muttered softly.

"Wasn't planning on it."

He heard footsteps and saw a guy with silver hair, "Um, hi." Leon crossed his legs. The kid groaned. Before Leon could wonder why your kid would groan at him, the kid muttered the word, "Dad, what are you doing here?"

What? This is the guy you married?

"Don't give me that look, it's the weekend, it's time for you to be with your dad."

Your son stood up. "I'll tell mom-" Before your son could mutter another word, you were already near the door. "Yeah," You forced a smile, "Don't worry about me, kiddo. Just go with dad. You have fun with him." You kissed your son's cheek. The son stood up straight and went outside with his father. Leon and you were only in your shop.

He sighed and you groaned.

"I didn't say anything." Leon defended himself. You turned to see him, "I know, I know your little mind is trying to figure out my life." You turned away from Leon and looked as your child left with his father. Your hands fumbled nervously to your pants' pockets, "The bike is almost done." You whispered softly.

Leon swallowed weakly, "T-that's good."

A small pregnant pause made the two think your life's. Thinking it through in all those picky details that you once not thought about. You are happy with your life, yet you wondered what would've happened if Leon stayed. Leon wasn't happy, but he accepted those details. He thought about him probably being the divorced husband. It was a bitter thought. You deserved a person who would stay with you. Not an unstable guy who was a functional alcoholic until now.

Leon stood up silently and looked at you.

You saw him.

"I'm sorry for leaving." He whispered softly.

"For fuck's sake," You laughed bitterly feeling all those same emotions, "I doubt you missed me, but I missed you." Leon's hands cupped your face, he didn't mind the oils or anything anymore. Sure, his ex girlfriend is still hot, but she looked so beautiful right now.

"I wished I did miss you, but I know I would've been worse." Leon muttered softly. He couldn't even imagine him living his life. He already hated his shitty life and remembering he failed you. But... he still did fail you.

Leon's eyes soften, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He leaned to finish the gap and kissed you. The kiss felt desperate from the two of you. You held him tightly as his lips moved against yours, very politely put his tongue between you two. You slowly pulled away from the kiss; the small feeling of feeling pathetic grew. So many years away from each other, yet his hands belong in your hips.

"I'm dirty." You whispered softly.

His heart clenched. He felt so stupid loving you even more with that simple mutter. "A date." Leon held your hands with his. "I need a date with you. Just you and me."

You couldn't help but laugh a bit.

Was it bad that nothing really changed between you two?

-

The date was in your house. You doubt this date will grow into a relationship, and it would be foolish if it did. Leon was still wearing a normal jacket and shirt underneath it. You prepared food and you two ate. He asked about your child, you answered, but you couldn't ask him about his life outside of you. He didn't want to make you know.

You washed the dirty dishes as Leon looked at you.

What if...

A married couple just enjoying time with each other, holding and appreciating each other. Leon sighed softly, "I love you." He whispered softly. "Thanks." You laughed softly. Your hands felt nervous, trembling a bit as they grabbed the rag to dry up the dishes. You had a question and you hoped he'll answer it.

"Who is Ada?"

Leon's breathing stopped, "Ada?" You heard his conversation with your kid. Your eyes fell down, "Was she important?"

He didn't like the next words coming to his mouth, "Yes, she was." Leon won't lie about that. Ada was the most normal thing in his life. Ada was more in his life than you ever were. You temporarily closed your eyes and felt the small buzzing feeling in your heart.

"I was truly stupid one, huh? Waiting for you." You turned to see Leon.

Leon looked down at his lap. He didn't know how to comfort you, and it felt like a horrible task.

The last time he saw you came into his mind.

You were kissing him repeatedly, and less than twenty-four hours, Ada Wong kissed him, and he couldn't say anything. It wasn't his fault for failing you there. But what came after... it was his fault.

"I fucked up." Leon forced himself to look at you, "I know I did, but you having your child. Having a life without me," Leon stood up, "Don't regret that." In the end, he got what he deserved. Then, for a moment, the idea of you being in Raccoon City, you dying... He would've hated himself even more.

Leon caressed your face again, "Please, I don't want you to regret your life."

"I just hate you." You mumbled pathetically.

"Then, hate me."

Leon and you looked at each other for a while. Before you can say anything else, Leon dropped to his knees and unbuttoned your jeans. "Hate me." His hands rubbed gently your thighs, the softness of your body remained, and he loved it. Being between your thighs was his heaven. He always thought of that. His tongue licked them a bit, and he gently opened your legs open and looked up at you.

Your breath was shakey for a bit before he licked your pussy. His breath and a bit of his teeth was felt, you shivered weakly, but he made the feelings grow a bit more. His hands traced your butt and went underneath your underwear to hold you tightly. His tongue slowly began to lick your folds, gently flicking his tongue in your opening.

"Leon-" Your voice was a different tone of pathetic.

Leon felt himself growing. Your taste... God, your taste... Leon looked up at you again and grasped your butt harsher.

He sucked a bit on your clit. He needed you so badly. You were his first love. You were his first everything.

His hands slowly pulled down your panties. He wanted to avoid crude language in a way. He wanted this to be romantic. He licked a line in your opening. His tongue flirted with your opening until the tip of his tongue was inside of you. You gasped weakly, "Leon..."

Your arousal made Leon grab you harsher. Holding you tightly as his tongue flicked in and out of you. Sucking your pussy and feeling safe again. Your legs almost failed you, and he grabbed you. His tongue moved a bit, sucking and licking your pussy. A small growl escaped his lip, licking your cunt was his only goal right now. You gasped weakly. You couldn't speak properly, but all Leon did was shoved himself deeper.

Your hands grabbed his hair, "Le- Leon." You gasped.

He looked at you, "I love you." Leon muttered softly before kissing you gently. He stood up and held you. "I love you." He kissed your cheek gently. Your eyes closed tightly, feeling exposed, "Can we go to my room?" You asked. Leon nodded his head, he lifted you up in ease. You kicked down your jeans and panties, you needed to remember to pick those up later. Leon walked upstairs, his eyes were focused on you and on his destination.

Slowly and gently placed you on the bed, Leon smiled at the view, "Always beautiful." He muttered softly.

Your head turned away, your cheeks were feeling that flushing sensation. All your blood was on your face with those simple words.

Leon grinned. His fingers quickly unbuttoned his jeans. His hands rubbed his cock, "Do, do you have a condom?" Leon asked softly. You shook your head, you haven't had a one night stand for so long that you didn't have the things ready.

He pouted, "Guess we are doing the college route." The quick fuck and the slip it out.

Leon slid down his boxers, his hands grabbed his cock, "I got better with the pull out." He promised you.

"Sure." You couldn't help but chuckle.

He pressed the tip of his cock on your folds. Leon bit on his lower lip and rubbed his pre cum around your clit. You whined, "L-Leon..." Leon growled softly, "Missed my pretty girl." His cock moved around your folds until he pressed it against your clit. The pre cum was spilling pathetically, Leon's free hand grabbed your hip that kept twitching.

Begging.

Slowly, the tip of his cock opened you up. Your hole was ready for him, he pushed himself deep and deep. Slow and gentle for you.

It had been a while since you slept with someone. Your hands patted your bed and grabbed your covers, "Fuck." Even your voice was pathetic. A pathetic whine that made Leon growl, he pushed his hips until all of him was in you. Your warmth made him want to cum. "I love you." Leon whispered softly.

He began to move, his hips moved away and in; Leon leaned close to you and gasped his air into your lips. His hands caressed your thighs and forced them a bit more open, Leon wanted you.

Leon was never meant to be a rough lover. His stupid life made his mind think everything was cruel, but your whines made him want him to nicer. Leon's eyes met yours. His hips moved faster. Those small facial reactions, your eyes wanting to close and the way your nose twitched a bit.

His hands gently folded your legs against your stomach.

Those small sexual noises were small plops. His hand grabbed your face and caressed your cheeks and neck. He was gone for so long and...

"Why- why are you crying?" You asked.

Leon didn't even notice it. He smiled, "I, I d-don't know." His hand traveled down your hips and caressed your stomach. The new and old details of your skin just made him miss you despite having you close.

Your hands caressed his cheeks and pulled him close. Those gentle kisses were he can melt and turn into nothing. His thrusts turned faster now, he sucked your bottom lip and pulled away. "I need you." Leon muttered weakly. His hands grabbed your hips and thrusted faster. You grabbed the back of his head, "I need you too." You agreed with his words.

Was it lust? Was it the painful feeling of being separated away?

This felt odd. Even the sex you once shared with each other never felt this desperate.

He wasn't going to pull out. His empty promise showed more as he growled weakly, "I have to..." Leon looked at you again and kissed you. His tongue entered your mouth, he licked evert detail... begging. Needing.

Leon groaned and finally came. You hissed softly as you finished as well. He didn't know what else to do but hug you. He didn't want to leave anymore.

[glitch-after-dark]

Mer formers dratchet finding a sparked Rodimus who was abducted from his home and can’t go back because it was destroyed?

Now they have a sparked distrusting & traumatized mer they are slowly falling in love with

oh yes

The way this idea just gripped ahold of me and I love this idea but got a little caught up in plot and it got pretty long.

I've got another related ask, too. It's probably a bit less horny than intended, but I'll do more in a bit. Happy mermay!

Rodimus grew up in the Nyon shoal and was very social and comfortable and happy. Their shoal was settled around an uninhabited island from which they took their name which spent most of the time submerged and has complex reef system around it. It was considered one of the most beautiful places on Cybertron with pink sands and fiery colors mers matching the reefs surrounding it. It was Preserved and people weren't supposed to travel there but that didn't stop an occasional wealthy mech from hiring someone to go there as they considered fees to be "entrance payments" more than punishment. While wary most of the people who came regular, marine biologists who studied them, were friendly and the shoal was a much more social and less aggressive one than most.

At least partially due to the fact the island used to be inhabited and they had a shared community until a disease that the mers were immune to wiped out the island population. They still passed down stories and remembered them. The "strange" rituals that the biologists studied are the ones passed down to honor their former friends. Rituals that look religious in nature because it was as their former neighbors worshipped Primus.

All this adds up to Rodimus seeing Tyrest, who was slightly obsessed with it since he recognized a long defunct religious gesture in one of the videos a Senator showed him of "visiting" the island and believe it to be a sign, and swimming right up to him. Rodimus sees him do the gesture and returns it enthusiastically, swimming much closer than he would normally and even perching up on the boat's edge which led to him getting snatched.

Rodimus suffers during his time with Tyrest, who treats him like a pretty toy, and punishes him when he "acts up". It only gets worse the more time passes and Tyrest gets handsy. Rodimus becomes incredibly hostile to all mechs and Rodimus starts to get drugged daily to keep him placid.

Then he has his first heat and Tyrest is eager to take advantage of it to arrange for artificial insemination. It required getting him out of the tank though. The drug burns out quicker than Tyrest realized and Rodimus begins to become more lucid and once Tyrest dismisses his guards and staff for the day, Rodimus rips out his throat. Tyrest kept Rodimus in his private island, letting him look out at the sea but never touching it.

Rodimus drags himself through the house and across the sand into the water. He's hurt and bleeding and exhausted but he's free even if he's somewhere new.

Rodimus is not a very sturdy breed of mer or one meant for long distance or deep ocean travel on top of still smelling like heat. He encounters a lot of dangers from predators and other mers, reacting with almost feral aggression not allowing anyone, even friendlies close. He follows old stories and constellations to eventually find Nyon, or where it was. There was an accident and a ship carrying oil wrecked and the leak destroyed Nyon. There are mechs working to try and clean it, but the reef and shoal are dead and the pink sands stained.

Rodimus now heavily pregnant and strained with grief wonders blindly, avoiding the large stretches of territory or inhabited areas he goes through, and finds an island that looks mostly untouched, no mechs or mer shoals obvious and just falls asleep exhausted in one of the underwater caves.

The reason it is untouched is it is neutral territory where the "sea witch" Ratchet and his mate Drift live. Who find Rodimus, so exhausted he doesn't even wake up when they touch him, clearly having starved himself, undersized and with poorly healed injuries. They take him back to their cave and Ratchet quickly cleans his long neglected wounds and treats them, while Drift helps him feed Rodimus via mouth-to-mouth until he has enough strength to respond and swallow when they put it in there. He sleeps for days with their tending, tense and curled up even in his sleep until on the fifth day he wakes up.

Rodimus is incredibly wary of the two other mers when he wakes up. He is hissing and bristling and ready to fight, though instinct has him pushing himself back into the back of the cave and curling around his swollen belly. He is full and healthier than he has been in ages, and everything is screaming to nest.

Drift and Ratchet are soft. They've never managed to carry more than duds despite their long courting. They suspect they are wither infertile or incompatible. They have more than enough to support a carrier, and both have gotten a little attached while carrying for him.

They give Rodimus space, leaving him food and not forcing themselves close. Slowly, warily, he creeps out. They both freeze when he does, letting him make the first moves. When he creeps out further, Drift trills at him hopefully, which startles him and sends him rushing back into hiding.

It's slow progress with Rodimus watching them warily from where they've tucked him into an inner cave, and their instincts are acreaming to take care of him more and barely sated by glimpses and food and occasional glimpses of him sleeping and smelling content. Both are patient though.

One day, when it's just Ratchet, Drift, having gone out to hunt and patrol to settle some of his "expecting babies" instincts, Rodimus finally creeps out. Ratchet's own instincts to prepare have led to him overprepping in medicine and gathering a bit. He's been trying to prepare for any eventuality. He doesn't freeze or react when he feels Rodimus moving behind him and forces himself to remain calm letting him approach and watch Ratchet curiously.

Rodimus, meanwhile, has gotten curious about his not-captors. He has become absolutely certain they don't want what most have wanted from him and don't appear to be a threat. Mostly, they seem to want to feed him. He's been listening to them interact and talk but still doesn't understand why. He doesn't feel safe, but he also doesn't feel actively in danger.

So he's decided to approach the safer looking one alone. Drift may be smaller, closer to Rodimus’s size, but he's all predator with prominent fangs and claws and spines. Ratchet, meanwhile, is bigger than him but has duller claws, practically just nails and grinding teeth as well as non-prominent fangs and eats kelp as much as any fish. Rodimus is pretty sure his main defense is his thick hide, size, sharp tongue, and Drift.

They talk, and while it is tense, it soothes things. Ratchet explains how they found him, what he is doing, and briefly a bit about himself and Drift. He also offers Rodimus safety in their home as long as he wants to stay. When asked why Ratchet nods to his swollen belly and says he can't just let a school less first timer go at it alone when he can help and that Rodimus will need suport and be unable to hunt for himself soon enough. Rodimus has bee filling more and more the instinct to den down and prepare but is still suspicious.

Rodimus demands what exactly Ratchet wants in return, and he says for Rodimus to let him treat his wounds and make sure he and any pups or healthy before Rodimus leaves. If he wants to leave, that is. He also confirms Drift feels the same way. Rodimus still doesn't trust it, but Ratchet hasn't lied so far and had plenty of time to take advantage.

Drift comes barrelling in, freezes, and gets excited, sending Rodimus back into hiding. Dratchet talks about taking things slow. Or at least that's what they think until the next day. Rodimus is nervous at first but gets comfortable very quickly, and by the end of the day, he is acting like he owns the place. Which is at least 65% bravado, but he is forcing himself to be comfortable in order to convey confidence. Drift, of course, is thrilled and very friendly and readily spoiling him, eager to show off their home and area, and Ratchet is very tolerant and fussing at him to eat or drink.

Rodimus is surprised how quickly it turns to genuine comfort with them. He swims with Drift acting as sentinel, but always gentle and cooing as he shows them small wonders and races and dances around him in warm shallows that look perfect for pup. He hangs around Ratchet on his tired days lounging and pestering him when Ratchet makes medicine, and Ratchet huffs but explains or tells stories about his travels, which are interesting and pretty wide. Other times, they go to gather medicinal things. It's further than Drift usually takes him but Rodimus stubbornly demands to come and inevitably ends up dozing on Ratchet's back being gently carried home between them

He realizes as his room (den) becomes filled with pretty rocks and decrotive plants and soft sponges for a bedding and fine sand perfect for burying eggs and carefully selected rocks that both have given him that they've been acting both as sire and community and he cries and realizes he may be rwally and truly safe.

He starts being more open with them and laughing and smiling, and things get warmer and affevtionate as all three start falling for each other. Now that Rodimus is safe and his body isn't stressed he enters a new stage of his carrying and finds himself curling up against Ratchet in the cave not wanting to leave and purring or dragging Drift to his berth to cuddly and clunsy try and wrap his tail around him. Both of them pick up on it and smell it, but after what Rodimus said, they are reluctant to force the issue. Finally, after he half tucks himself under Ratchet and just vibrates while chirping, they do, and Rodimus realizes he's been making moves and decides rather than be embarrassed to go fully in.

They start assisting him, and when they do, they can't stop. It's a near constant pausing what they are doing to push him down and gently fuck into him while he purrs and clings to them, long pretty tail wrapping around them and clinging as much as possible. Both becime reluctant to leave him and he is firnly in the den napping most days and rarely venturing far. They prepare in earnest not to leave for awhile and the last two weeks of his carrying is just slow fucking, cuddling and constantly rearranging things to be perfect.

By the time Rodimus lays the eggs, they are all thoroughly mated and pleasantly surprised to find they hatch a mix of Rodimus's broght colors and white and red patterns.

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Hiya! Would you be willing to explain why keeping captive right whales is completely nonviable, as you mentioned? I’m fascinated, but the adhd simply will not let me parse scientific papers.

That's a fantastic question! While it would be wonderful if captive breeding were a viable option for this critically endangered species, it just isn't possible under any realistic conditions.

For starters, their size. Orcas are the largest mammals successfully held in captivity, and we all know how difficult (and controversial) that is, with only a very small handful of facilities ever pulling it off with any semblance of success. Tilikum, the largest captive orca (although I believe that record has since been overtaken by a male in China), was 22.5 feet (6.9 meters) long and weighed 12,500 pounds (5,700 kg). Most other orcas in human care, particularly the females, are considerably smaller. Compare that to a northern right whale. Even the smallest adults are over 40 feet long—double Tilikum's length—and weigh 88,000 pounds (40,000 kg)—seven times his weight—while the biggest specimens on record reached up to 61 feet (18.5 m) and an incredible 234,000 pounds (106,000 kg).

A tank for an animal that size would be far beyond anything we have the ability to engineer and maintain. Think of how deep it would have to be for the whale to even turn around! The water pressure would be astronomical, wreaking havoc on the building materials even if it were possible to build the structure. And remember—someone has to dive to clean it! Our theoretical right whale habitat would have to be a sea pen, but even the 100-acre facilities proposed with orcas in mind are nowhere near deep enough. While right whales are considered to inhabit "coastal" waters, they do not live right up by the shoreline, like certain orca ecotypes and other small delphinids. They are a pelagic species, designed to live out in the open water column, as are all baleen whales. So, the pen would have to be a floating habitat miles out into the open water (think of an offshore oil rig), with netting sturdy enough to not be destroyed by a 50 ton whale and long enough to extend hundreds of feet to the ocean floor. We're talking probably thousands of square miles of netting, that would have to be routinely inspected for safety and upkeep. So, you would probably need a submersible, since no human can dive that deep. On top of that, it would be difficult to find such a larger stretch of ocean in their habitat without shipping lanes, underwater noise, or pollution. And let's just forget about the logistics of staffing that place—or worse, funding.

Additionally, we wouldn't be able to feed them by tossing fish into their mouth like with dolphins. Northern right whales feed on tiny crustaceans and zooplankton, cruising along and filtering the creatures from the water with their baleen. Assuming our right whale keepers were somehow able to acquire the insane amount of food the whale requires (potentially over 5000 pounds of zooplankton a day), it would need to be scattered throughout the massive habitat to facilitate feeding. I imagine this would probably look something like the way Georgia Aquarium feeds their whale sharks from a little boat, although on a much larger scale. And since the food obviously can't be kept alive, we would need to develop someway of delivering the daily vitamins that are lost in the freezing process—and to keep hundreds of tons of krill frozen on a floating kitchen in the middle of the ocean.

Of course, the ultimate goal of this project would be to breed northern right whales... that means we need to take everything we just talked about and double it, at a bare minimum. For the breeding program to be successful, it would need a whole lot more than just two whales. And unfortunately, even if we lived in world with magical floating thousand-acre sea pens, unlimited krill, and endless money... we still don't know if it would even work. Right whale breeding habits are poorly understood, with the whales mating in cold northern waters before migrating 1,000 miles south to calve. Despite our best theoretical efforts, these migratory patterns could very well be necessary for successful reproduction.

Thank you again for the ask! This was actually a lot of fun to think about! If you want to read about JJ, the only baleen whale ever successfully housed in (temporary) human care, you can find an article and pictures here.

[mariacallous]

On a chilly spring morning in March, British coast guards spotted something unusual around 100 kilometers off the Scottish shoreline: a dark stain, stretching 23 kilometers into the North Atlantic Ocean.

According to an internal analysis prepared by the coast guard’s satellite services and seen by POLITICO, the likely source of that stain was Innova, a tanker roughly the size of the Eiffel Tower that at the time was hauling 1 million barrels of sanctioned oil from Russia on its way to a refinery in India.

Yet the coast guard did little to investigate further, and the tanker — free from any repercussion — continues to trade oil today, helping fill the Kremlin’s war chest more than two years into its full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

The Innova is just one of hundreds in the world’s so-called shadow fleet, a collection of often aging, poorly maintained ships sailing in defiance of Western sanctions — and spreading environmental harm without consequences. 

A joint investigation by POLITICO and the not-for-profit journalism group SourceMaterial found at least nine instances of covert shadow fleet vessels leaving spills in the world’s waters since 2021, using satellite images from the SkyTruth NGO paired with shipping data from market analysis firm Lloyd’s List and commodity platform Kpler.

Swedish Foreign Minister Maria Malmer Stenergard told POLITICO the ships posed a “significant danger” to the marine environment. “The incidents [here] illustrate this.”

It’s a problem that’s only grown worse following Russian President Vladimir Putin’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. With Moscow under Western sanctions, an increasing number of tankers are ferrying illicit goods — and potential environmental devastation — across the globe. Not only are these vessels creaky and largely unregulated, they’re often uninsured, meaning that in case of a leak, or more serious spill, a government would struggle to hold them accountable. 

POLITICO and SourceMaterial identified discharges everywhere from Thailand to Vietnam to Italy and Mexico, all linked to the shadow fleet. The tankers also passed through busy shipping corridors like the Red Sea and the Panama Canal, meaning any serious accident could rupture international trade routes. 

Experts believe it’s only a matter of time before one of these ships suffers a catastrophe with major environmental — and economic — devastation.

“The oil spills and risk of slicks are horrendous,” said Isaac Levi, Europe-Russia lead and a shadow fleet expert at the Centre for Research on Energy and Clean Air (CREA), a think tank. “Beyond the environmental damage, some of which will be irreversible, it’s a huge impact to coastal states that have to bear the cost of cleaning this up.”

In short: “It’s a ticking time bomb,” Levi said.

[greatwyrmgold]

If you could make one change to Oshi No Ko, what would it be? (Change can be of any magnitude and scope. Frankly I just want to hear what your beefs with it are, as I’ve forgotten after scrolling through so many posts.)

I haven’t read/watched it but some of my friends have.

Alternatively, tell me about a Factorio production-line configuration that you like (on account of being easy to make, or elegant, etc.)

I'll do both!

One Change to OnK

"One change" is an extremely vague term. For instance: Changing the Movie Arc so that is paid off more of what was set up prior to and during the arc, without disrupting the early story's themes, would do a lot to improve the story. But while "make the Movie Arc good instead of bad" is technically one change, it's obviously not what you're asking.

My ambitious-yet-probably-reasonable "one change" would be to make Hikaru Kamiki a more internally consistent character. From what I hear through the grapevine, Aka Akasaka did not fully figure out what Ai's murderer was like until the Tokyo Blade Arc or so; from what I read in the last volume, he also changed his mind after establishing Hikaru.

Ideally I'd like Hikaru to be consistent with the most interesting version of his character—a self-loathing kid who was victimized by the entertainment industry like Ai, who genuinely loved her and was loved back, but took her apparent rejection badly and made the worst impulsive decision at a crucial moment.

But even if Hikaru was consistently the lying-eyed murder-cult leader from the last few chapters, that consistency would clean up some of the problems around Hikaru. For instance, Akasaka probably wouldn't have written the bit where Hikaru got CSA'd if he knew Hikaru was just a bad apple.

If even that's too broad a change, I'd probably go with "have the events of the chapter 143 conversation between Ruby and Aqua pay off".

I'm not just talking about The Kiss, but that's the elephant in the room. I don't ship Aqua and Ruby, but their relationship (including the incest-y bits) is interesting. There's a lot to dig into there! There were only two wrong ways to handle that: Have Aqua and Ruby break character to make the ship work, or pretend it never happened. Akasaka chose the second option, which probably isn't as bad as the first, but I still hate it.

Hopefully that answers your question.

Factorio Production-Line Configuration

I like custom production lines that adapt to the very specific circumstances where it's built. My brain acknowledges the many benefits of furnace stacks and main busses and so forth, and I use them when relevant, but deep in my heart I love the spaghetti and try to find any situation where I can use it.

For instance, consider that one time I set up flamethrower turrets.

Did I need to deliver this by train, using the same fuel tanks to deliver the crude and pick up the petrol elsewhere? Of course not. Did I need to use light oil at all instead of just fueling the flamethrowers with crude oil? Nah. But light oil gets a 10% damage boost, which is just enough to justify making things needlessly complicated.

[seat-safety-switch]

There are two kinds of people in the world. On one hand, you have the folks who get super upset when an oil tanker spills and irreversibly contaminates precious natural resources, destroying our planet in the name of short-term profit. On the other hand, you’ve got the kind of folks who immediately commission a sketchy series of near-criminals into purchasing a disused scientific trawler because some idiot left a bunch of free oil out there and I don’t want to have to do the valve cover gaskets on my engine.

All it takes, really, is a big scoop on the front of a boat. A big scoop is something we can absolutely make. Most of us have experience fabricating rulebook-pleasing hood scoops from Princess Auto snow shovels, recycle bins left out on the side of the road, road signs, and human ribcages. Still not sure how Big Al got ahold of that, and, no matter what you may think of me, I’m not going to ask him while we’re sharing a room on this tiny little research ship.

You might think that once you’ve hoovered up the oil, it’s a good idea to separate out the water, or at least desalinate it a little bit, before you put it into an engine. And we did that, through gravity. The big tank in the bottom of the ship holds all of it and we just took a bunch of soup ladles from the kitchen and put it into old pails. Refine it? Nothing doing, college folks: like I said, the wheezy-ass slant six in this Volare blows through oil so fast that it probably won’t even notice as long as it’s slippery enough. Hell, it could be expired mayonnaise, but the grocery store recently started locking up their dumpster at night again. 

Really, the worst part of all this is the attention we got. As soon as the local government figured out that we were in the area, cleaning up one of the world’s most atrocious ecological disasters, they wanted to give us some medals and invite us to give speeches. And we’re not really about that, especially because the increased attention likely means that some plutocrat-worshipping federale will start scrutinizing us out of spite, looking for a “gotcha” to punish us for making the oil industry look worse. A gotcha like “noticing our license plates are made with crayon.” You just can’t do anything nice for people anymore without it becoming so polarized, but on the plus side Shaky Earl got a great gig at the United Nations. He did have to start bringing a drip tray to work, though, because his reserved parking space was starting to look a little oily.

[thirsty-boba-fett-posts]

Part II of this fic that doesn’t yet have a title and isn’t even on the Masterlist yet but it’s gonna be a BIG OL’ SAGA.

THE JOURNEY CONTINUES UNDER THE CUT

She slept better than she had in at least a week. Jabba’s old slave quarters, once an austere room with no ‘fresher and two rows of bunk beds stacked three high, was now a comfortable apartment with a large futon. It was still a windowless room, but that made sleeping through eight hours of daylight easier. She didn’t relish traveling through the night on supply runs to and from Mos Espa, but it made for a faster, more efficient trip if she avoided the heat of Tatooine’s twin suns.

When she awoke the suns were low in the sky. She washed her face in the room’s newly installed wash basin and stretched out her sore muscles. There would be other courier jobs - she could saddle up her dewback and head into town to see which merchants needed supplies couriered overnight from Mos Eisley or maybe even somewhere closer, like the moisture farms or Mos Pelgo.

The man in black, as stern and imposing as he’s been that morning, approached her as she filled her water skin from the spigot in the sallyport. He held out a small sack and fished a stack credits from inside of his cowled cloak.

“Go to Anchorhead and bring back the palace droids Honwoo reprogrammed. Take two days if you need to - here’s enough credits for a stay at the Sidi Driss Inn, and there’s more when you return.”

She took the sack and the credits with a bewildered expression on her face. Sidi Driss Inn is a luxury hotel, she thought. Did the new daimyo really intend to pay for her to spend the day sleeping at a resort?

The man, a lieutenant of the daimyo, she supposed, called over his shoulder to her as he walked away.

“Get your water from the kitchen from now on. That spigot is rusty and that old tank needs cleaning.”

The burlap sack contained a rather expensive assortment of dried meats, cheeses, pastries, and even fresh fruits. She hadn’t had fresh fruit in years - this daimyo was lightyears more generous than the previous two. She wondered if he was struggling to find good help, but his gravely voiced deputy seemed like he ran a tight ship. Maybe the new daimyo was a puffer pig who needed to surround himself with strength and loyalty. That would explain the uncommon generosity.

She set off with the twilight towards Anchorhead on her dewback, who was fresh and energetic from a day of sound sleep and a belly full of rich kitchen scraps. The sky was clear and the stars were bright. The moonlight reflected pale blue off of the sand of the Dune Sea. She sampled each of the decadent foods in the burlap sack and shared them with her dewback when they stopped to rest at the halfway point between Mos Espa and Anchorhead. If he intended to outfit all of his contractors so generously, she would be silly not to work exclusively for the daimyo.

She arrived in Anchorhead as the first sun crested the horizon, before the merchants and shopkeepers opened for the day. She decided to see if a room at the Sidi Driss would even be available at this time of day. A few hours of sleep in a luxurious room before businesses opened for the day was more than she could hope for, but she felt the optimism of one who has been blessed by an unseen benefactor.

“Checking in?” asked a chipper desk attendant.

“I don’t have a reservation,” she replied, tentatively.

“You came in on a dewback, did you not? We have a reservation for you secured by the Daimyo of Mos Espa.”

Wonders never ceased.

A valet took her dewback to the stable to be hosed off and fed while she was shown to a corner room on the hotel’s top floor. It was opulent - a large bed, a ‘fresher stocked with expensive soaps and oils, and a balcony overlooking all of Anchorhead. She had been given plenty of credits for the room, so she supposed that the daimyo intended for her to spend them all on the sumptuous accommodations. She indulged long in a bath in the wide round tub before wrapping herself on a fluffy robe to settle in for a nap.

She awoke a few hours later to a note slipped under the door of her room.

Honwoo will have your cargo ready at sunset. The Daimyo of Mos Espa has opened a tab for your expenses and wishes for you to take yourself shopping at the hotel boutique at your convenience.

Surely, the Daimyo of Mos Espa had lost his mind. Had she somehow been mistaken for someone else? A dignitary or prominent merchant or guild member? She felt like an imposter, then reread the letter and realized that it addressed her by name. She knew she was a reliable courier, but were reliable couriers so hard to find in Mos Espa that they needed to be plied with luxury accommodations and shopping sprees?

She thought it best to follow the daimyo’s instructions. He was paying her way, so she may as well do as she’d been told and enjoy herself. She ordered a breakfast of colo claw fish and a fruit platter with a side of blue milk. It was more food than she’d eaten at a single meal in years and the experience of being well and truly full was delightful.

When she finally made her way down to the hotel lobby, a concierge met her at the base of the stairs.

“I’m to escort you to the boutique.”

This was getting weird. She briefly considered if she should continue going along with what felt like some kind of dream, but surely the daimyo must have his reasons for treating her to so much finery. The boutique was small and the clothing was perhaps impractical for someone who spent much of her time on a dewback crossing the desert, but she could not remember the last time she’s bought herself anything new and she could not resist the opportunity. The concierge even managed to convince her to pick out a dress with all of the requisite accessories - although what occasion she’d have to wear such an ensemble, she could not fathom.

Feeling overwhelmed, she returned with her new wardrobe to her room to decompress from experience and get a few more hours of sleep. She dreamed of Boba Fett as she remembered him from years ago - a figure in green armor and a distinct helmet - wielding a beskar ax to cleave the chains that bound her to Jabba The Hutt. But Boba Fett was dead and she awoke with a sense of loss that she hadn’t known she could feel for a stranger.

The valet brought her freshly bathed and well fed dewback to her and helped her load him up with her expensive new clothes. The suns were just beginning to set, which meant that the cargo she was hired to transport would be ready for pickup at Honwoo’s Repair Shop. She mounted her dewback and tipped the valet generously before making her way through town.

Honwoo and his human droid technician, Mathus, met her at the shop’s bay doors with crated droids ready to be loaded up for transport. She dismounted and introduced herself as labor droids began loaded and strapping crates to her dewback. Mathus handed her a data pad with a packing list, and she gave it a cursory read through before signing and handing it back to him.

“You should be all set in a few minutes. Do you need to fill a water skin before you head out?”

“Sure,” she replied, gratefully. He walked her to the shop’s sink and as she filled her water skin, the two made casual conversation. Mathus enjoyed his job as a technician and liked working for Honwoo, an honest and agreeable Rodian.

“So how do you like working for Boba Fett?” he asked.

“I’m sorry, what?”

…

LET’S GOOOOOOOOO

@meshlaxbunny

@daimyosprincess - the dewback’s name is Guapo

@baufraus

@dukeoftheblackstar

@acatalystrising

@die-herzlos-engel

Y’all we have to name this thing. Help. Please.

[viceroy-transporter]

How to Prepare for Auto Transport

Simple steps you can take to help you prepare your vehicle for car shipping services.

The more prepared you and your vehicle are, the faster and more efficient the transport will be completed.

Getting your car ready for auto transport service is super important. It helps protect your car during the journey and makes everything go smoothly. When your car is ready, it's easier for the transport team to load and unload it, which means fewer chances of delays.

Plus, proper preparation ensures your car is secured well, so it won't get damaged on the way. Taking the time to get your car ready shows that you care about its safety and makes the entire moving experience more successful and stress-free.

Top 10 Preparation Steps

Here are the top 10 things you need to do to prepare your car for transport:

Empty your car of personal items: Insurance only covers your car, not the stuff inside it. Remove personal items not part of the car to reduce risk of loss or theft.

Keep your fuel gauge low: Drivers prefer your tank to be less than a quarter full to reduce the risk of flammable gas igniting.

Wash your car: A clean car makes it easier for the driver to inspect it for any damage before shipping.

Take pictures of your car for records: Snap some pics of your car's condition before it gets loaded up for transport. It's good proof if anything happens during transit.

Make sure the loading area is clear: Remove any obstacles that might get in the way of loading your car onto the transport trailer.

Remove your license plate and registration: You don't need to take off your tags, but keep your registration and title with you for extra security.

Check for tire leaks: Make sure your tires are fully inflated to prevent damage during loading and unloading.

Find and fix any oil leaks: If your car has an oil leak, let the driver know so they can position your car safely on the trailer.

Remove any toll passes: Toll charges incurred during transport are your responsibility, so take off any toll readers attached to your car.

Remove or adjust special modifications: Take off or adjust any add-ons like spoilers or bike racks to make the loading process easier and reduce the risk of damage.

Following these steps not only ensures a smooth auto transport process but also guarantees the safety and security of your vehicle throughout its journey with Viceroy Auto Transport.

[pbandjesse]

We are at the airport!!! I am very excited but also very nervous!!

Today was a lot of that. Nerves. Excitement. Not sure what to do with my hands. It was a good day. I slept okay. Had bizarre dreams but nothing that upset me. James had work for a few hours in the morning so I woke up alone.

I made the bed and then came up with a plan. I would dye my hair and take a shower. I would go to target and grab some last minute things. Snacks. New chapstick (I lost mine at the festival yesterday). Kitty litter so we could leave with a completely clean box. I wanted to make sure the house was nice for when Callie came to take care of the animals, so I also made sure that all the tanks were full and everything was in place.

I really should have gone to target first. But I started putting dye in my hair and there wasn't any going back from that. I would put dye on my hair and walk around the house double checking things. I also went through my luggage again and made sure everything was charging so it would be good for the flight.

Eventually I would run the dishwasher and go and start the shower. And for some reason that has worked getting the shower hotter faster (the dishwasher is probably using the water faster? Something like that anyway.) and I washed my hair and scrubbed and scrubbed to feel as clean as possible.

My hair actually would dry really nicely. I did not wait for it to be dry before I left for target though. Just put it in a clip and was off.

According to the cashier everyone was waking up and coming from church. Because while it wasn't busy when I first got there it was very busy by the time I was leaving.

I stuck to my list though. I got new chapstick, and a solid cuticle oil. My finger tips have been splitting and are really painful. I got cleaning spray for our bathtub and two bags of kitty litter. I got snacks. Various ones. Sweets and savories. I got hot honey cashews which seemed intriguing. I will probably save those for the layover because I don't want to accidently make anyone with nut allergies to have a reaction in a closed space. But I got rice Krispies and a chocolate bar and mini tates cookies, and some mints. A good variety.

My last thing was to try James over the ear headphones. The ones they ordered weeks ago never shipped. Stuck in limbo. The selection at target for until $100 ones was pretty abysmal but they had one that was made for kids and I thought would work (and thankfully they did fit!). The nice man who worked electronics had to unlock the case for me and he was very busy and pulled in all directions. But he stopped and helped me and then offered to check out all of my order so I didn't have to wait in the very long line at the front. I appreciate him greatly for that.

He called security so they would know I was coming from the other side of the store with my purchases and they wouldn't stop me. And I went home.

James has arrived home from work right after I had left. They had spent the time I was gone putting stuff away and tidying up. Getting the last of the stuff in their bags together. And I would jump on that too.

I sat upstairs figuring out how to fit all my snacks in my backpack. Double checking I had everything I wanted in cabin in that bag. I moved some stuff around and tried to make sure everything was good to go. My hair was mostly dry and the dye took really well. I will probably wash it two more times before the wedding on Saturday so it should fade just a little and will look really good, fingers crossed.

On the day of travel I like to only use products and things that I am bringing with me. So I know I will be okay with what I packed and not wishing I had something else. So my hair only has conditioner and hair oil and that is what I will have to live with. Being in a different climate I am hoping it stays looking nice.

We decided we would go to the diner for a late lunch to have our "last American meal" (outside the airport). And we left to go do that before 2.

I would get French toast and french fries. James got a patty melt. We spent most of the meal on our phones researching. I read the Wikipedia for Uganda. We double checked about bag sizes. And we realized our bags were probably to heavy to be carry ons. They were the right dimensions but we're probably to heavy. We would figure that out once we got to the airport.

We ended up leaving an hour earlier then planned. When we got back we had measured the bags and I would lay down. My allergies were really bad. Sweetp was a little distressed that we were leaving. Which makes him puff up and makes my allergies very bad. But I enjoyed just laying in bed and feeling cozy.

But at 430 we decided to go. And that ended duo being perfect. We had no stress.

As we were leaving our other neighbors we're coming home so we stopped to let them know we were going to be out of the country. And then James forgot their cost and had to go back for in it. But then we were off and on the road.

It's an hour and a half to the airport. This is the Dulles airport in Virginia so a little far but not bad. And we got here without much trouble. When we arrived at 6 we realized our parking checking in was for 7 and got nervous but it still let us scan in and we got a very good spot. We were both sweaty nervous but it ended up being super easy.

First we went and used the bathrooms and I had a very weird experience. It was a very large bathroom. Lots of stalls. No one else was in there. I go in and a lady comes in on my heels and goes to the stall next to me. Makes a ton of noise spinning the toilet paper. I was quick. And as soon as I came out she followed me on my heels again. Doesn't flush I don't think she actually used the bathroom. She almost crashed into me at the sink. I took my time to see if she would leave first. She doesn't. She waits until I'm walking out to finish drying her hands. Almost walks into me again but walks away when I get back to James. It was absolute weirdo behavior. Jess thinks she was trying to pickpocket me but Jane's had my bags and phone and it just made me feel weird.

But we moved in and went to the ticket counter to get our seats changed. Which is when they also weighed our bags and they decided they were to heavy to be carry ons. And honestly it's for the best. we can be much more hands free. And she was just really nice. Made us feel like everything was going to be good.

I wasn't sure what kind of tsa they would have. But they had us take nothing from the bags and we made it through super easy. Though my boobie set off the machine? Hilarious.

My little sewing scissors did make it through too! I will be able to embroider on the flight. I also have my bracelet making stuff. I am ready for the long haul.

Besides crafts I also have a ton of YouTube videos and music and podcasts and books and audio books. Way more then I need but it will be really nice to have the variety.

Once we got through TSA we could be a little calmer. It was the first big test. We will still have the layover and then customs but the first hurtle is done and we did great.

We would walk to the train car to the terminal. And we were laughing and having fun and it has been a really nice time. This is a nicer airport then I remember from when we flew into it from our honeymoon.

We would get dinner. James got a corn dog and I got a pizza that I would share with James. And we have been sitting at our gate for a bit now. It will be time to board soon.

No one else from our party is here yet but they are at the airport somewhere. Hopefully through TSA soon.

I am nervous and excited. The first leg is 10 hours. And we will arrive in Turkey at 3pm tomorrow. I will probably wait to do tomorrow's post until the second flight and post it when we land. Which if my math is right will be 11pm Monday home time. Let's hope that works !!

Send us good vibes. Especially to James who is so nervous about the flight. But it is going to be amazing and this time on the plane will be a fun part of the adventure. Wish us luck! I love you all. Until next time!!

[sailorsharky]

⚓️Journal of a Sailor⚓️

-= Log: 4 =-

-= Time of writing: 2059 =-

-= Weather conditions: Mostly rain during the day, breaks in clouds during the evening. =-

-= Relative windspeed: Varies, no reading attained. =-

-= Duties done: Cleaning outside of the bridge, assisting in unmoring & mooring, assisting in taking a ship on tug, assisting in discharging garbage & oil to a barge and assisting in taking on fresh water. =-

Hello again dear logbook.

A couple of interesting things happened today. The unmooring and mooring is a given and a daily thing, but today we had a barge coming alongside to take away the dirty oil and other engine room waste.

We also filled up our fresh water tanks to maximum capacity.

All this did interrupt me from my other task of the day; cleaning off built-up grime on the outside of the bridge. It's frustrating to see that the vessel was left to get as dirty as it is. Despite my best, I haven't been able to get it all off yet. I'll have to continue with it tomorrow.

Aside from that, handling the mooring lines is something I'm starting to get better at the more I do it, although I do need more practice. My skills at tying knots has improved after a lot of practice. I can get the three most fundamental knots tied with much more ease than when I first started off here, namely the Bowline, the Reefer Knot and the Clove Hitch.

I highly recommend anybody reading this journal to pick up two pieces of rope and get to tying! It's a good way to occupy yourself and may prove useful. Yes, even on land.

Now, high time to get some rest.

🌟May Polaris guide you always🌟

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 29, 2004 FedEx found us with no problem. In fact, they found us early while Tom was out getting the mail.

Valentine’s winner emailed Tom saying she sent the payment on Friday, but we’ll see.

As for Haiku, Tom thinks she shipped this last Friday the 27th, and not Friday the 20th which was when I got the tracking link. He says that people can have UPS print labels and send emails before packages are even sent, so I’m wondering if Ricki did that to make me think she was sent out last Friday because she knew I was getting antsy for her, and is ignoring me because she knows she shipped her this last Friday. Either way, I better get the doll or a refund.

Anyway, I got the supplies as I said, and of course they had to fuck up and I had to play email with Bob. I know everyone makes mistakes, though, and it was a simple matter to resolve. They left the grape oil out and I asked if it was on backorder or what. Bob emailed me back saying Jeff had been busy at the site and that he was expecting it in a week. He asked if I wanted credit or for him to keep it on file to put towards my next order. I asked that he ship it when he gets it and he agreed to do so.

Meanwhile, I spent nearly 10 hours going through the 5000 big sticks, pulling the bad ones which amounted to a few hundred which I dipped for myself. I have those and my 500 minis soaking. I soaked $30 worth of retail stuff for next to nothing. I use the minis as timers for when I bounce. They burn a half hour and I do two half-hour bounces a day. They’re also good for in the car when we go by all those smelly cows.

The burners are so-so. The wire pop-ups don’t come with a base of any kind. You have to put it on a plate or something. It’s not something I really care for. Some of the colorful clear acrylic burners are rather dull. Especially the browns and yellows. The greens and blues are ok, but the bright orange sure is nice. I’m keeping one for myself. The only problem is that they’re poorly made. The hole is too low on the slanted part which means some of the ash bounces off because the tip of the stick is too high. Tom’s taking care of that, though, but drilling a second hole higher up the slant, and at an angle that’ll lower the stick closer to where the ash is supposed to fall.

Incredibly, the mini sticks are slightly too long for the mini stick bags. Why oh why are people so stupid, I wonder? Can they ever do anything right? At least they only cost a couple of bucks. I’m sure we can use them for other things anyway.

I got the hang of making the stuff now. I’ve found that it’s easiest to toss the sticks in a Ziploc bag and soak them that way. Then when I go to dry them, I cut off the top of a 2-liter soda bottle that’s clean and dry and I dry them in that.

Meanwhile, tomorrow we’re going to list a couple of variety packs with burners included, to see how they do.

As for our other stuff, it’s not doing too well. The dolls and flags have no bids, but the lamps and hat do, so at least we’re getting something, along with whatever his ancient laptop goes for.

I lost a couple of pounds, so I’ve got just a few more to go. Maybe I’ll do that for as long as I can; diet down to 127, eat my way back up to the low 130s, and go back and forth like that. I’d prefer to diet to 100, even 115, and stay there too, but that’s just the dream of a 38-year-old packed with heavy muscle and a dead metabolism.

I was pleased to get mail saying they want to publish yet another Little Buddy picture! When I signed up as Lin S, I submitted a picture of him licking ice cream off a spoon. I used my real name when I submitted it.

We discussed Tom’s plan on how to go and what to do, even though we don’t yet know where we’re going. The plan is to sell the car and the furniture. Then we’ll buy a small trailer, one even smaller than Dennis’, so we won’t have to stay in hotels, and we’ll rent a storage container for our stuff.

The first thing we’ll do when we get moved is install the septic tank, the water tank, and the solar panels/batteries to generate our own electricity. Then we’ll build a shed and put up the internet dish. After that, we’ll build a bathroom and a temporary bedroom so I no longer have to sleep in the trailer. He thinks we can get this done in 2-3 weeks. Once the main house is built, the bedroom will become a workroom, and hopefully, we’ll install some form of fences along the way as well.

Whatever we do, I just want to get it done!

Later…

The renters are getting on my nerves right now. They’re idling a loud truck, the kids are screaming bloody murder, and their dogs are running around on our land as if they own it. I just hope to hell those damn dogs don’t interfere with the showing of the house! The people are no doubt going to walk about on the land and if they come running up to them, who knows how they may take it? Since 99% of the people here get dogs just to toss them outside 24/7, I’m hoping they won’t be that 1% that either keeps their dogs indoors or doesn’t have dogs at all. The worst thing that could happen would be a sonic boom when the people are inside the house, but that’s a lot less likely than these beasts getting in the way.

The truck just left, but I’m sure it’ll come and go 2-3 more times before they pack it in for the night. It makes me wonder where they go so often. We live 30 miles from the nearest city, so why would a person come and go so often in a town like this?

Anyway, Tom’s still checking out land everywhere except for the eastern part of the country where the humidity levels are higher. We even saw an appealing 8-acre parcel in Oregon. The forest is so thick there that if we have noisy neighbors who are always home, and I know we will, it won’t matter. Wherever we go, I’m sure we won’t be next to the nice quiet older couple that if they do have a dog, it’s inside most of the time, and who doesn’t come and go 5 or more times a day. No, we’ll be next to the home-all-the-time and very rowdy Brady Bunch with their 3 outdoor-only dogs and who knows what in the way of music and vehicle noise/activity.

Now I’m down to 129. I don’t get it. I just don’t get it. It’s so, so easy to go from 132 to 127. As easy as it is for me to gain weight. So why in the world do I just stop losing at 127 no matter what I do? Because something up there wants me to? I’ll be 127 no later than Wednesday.

Still nothing from Ricki. So she either lied about when she shipped the doll or she did ship it on the 20th and just doesn’t want to deal with tracing it. I hope it’s just a case of her bullshitting rather than the package being lost or given to the wrong person.

Still nothing from Paula either. Not even a quick “thanks, I got the stuff.” She’s no doubt busy getting off on getting her ass beat, then running to admire her bruises in the mirror.

Another doom vibe comes true. That back right tire on the car I sensed blowing out blew today, though it was the back left tire. Close enough.

Later…

The renters are back. From the looks of it, they went to get hay for the horse. The next few trips out will probably be for water.

Later…

We ended up doing pretty well after all when it got down to the last few minutes, but that’s not too surprising, I guess. That is when all the action happens. The competition over the hat was fierce. It ended up going to someone in Colorado. The only thing of mine that didn’t sell was the flags. The dolls are going to the same person in the Bay Area, the desk lamp is going to someone in Minnesota, and the disco light is going to someone in Massachusetts of all places, but at least they all live in the US! We’re getting a total of $44 for all this stuff, and except for the disco light that I won with tickets at Game Works, it all only cost us $15 since everything else but Meagan was given to us, which is about what our profit will be after eBay gets their cut and the postage is paid. Still, $15 to pack and ship these unwanted things to others who do want them, versus leaving them here for nothing, is worth it enough to me.

His horseracing game and laptop still have a few days to go, and while the game has no bids, the laptop’s up to $47!

Tonight, on a 7-day listing, we put up 2 decorative plates his mom gave us (I guess next will be the ones I stole) and 3 incense samplers. Each sampler will include an acrylic burner and a 10-pack of 4 different fragrances. We started those at $1.50. One has a blue burner, one has a green one, and one has a brown one.

Anyway, we really didn’t think the dolls were going to sell. It wasn’t till the very last minute that that person bid on them.

Tomorrow should be a fun day for mail. Dalene’s set to arrive, plus the blue Fairytopia Barbie should be at the PO. I don’t know for sure about Barbie, but it’s exciting to know that at around 6 AM, about when I crash, Dalene will be loaded onto a truck bound for Casa Grande where she’ll then be loaded onto the delivery truck! Though she wasn’t a top priority doll-wise, I have wanted her for nearly a year and a half now.

We’re going to wait till we’re moved to order molds.

They seem to boom in spurts where they boom for a few days, then it’s quiet for a few days, and back and forth. Hopefully, I’ll sleep ok till I’m back on days for what I guess will be the last time in this house. Of course, that’s what I thought before, so who knows what other delays may lie ahead? I know we’ll move sometime this year!

I guess tomorrow’s the day my 23 100-packs get shipped out, according to what Bob told me, and I really hope they don’t fuck up and send me 22 packs or 23 packs with one of them being the wrong fragrance!

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 27, 2004 The desk lamp has a bid on it and Tom won $15 on a Slingo, so that’s good, but what’s not good is that Ricki took the rest of the money for Haiku, and I’m like, yo woman, I haven’t received the damn doll! It better get here today like Tom says he’s sure it will. If not, I want the money back. I’m sick of this doll chase!

Houdini must’ve possessed Little Guy last night because he finally broke out. I found him playing in my office. I tanked him overnight, but now he’s back in the wire cage with the plastic roof on to block the widest area which is where I’m pretty sure he got loose. If he gets loose again, though, I’ll just toss him back in the tank till he gets bigger.

Someone emailed Tom last night saying they live in Gilbert, wanting to know if they could pick up the laptop if they win it. Tom told them they could. They’ll probably arrange to meet at Harrah’s if they win.

I could hear someone’s music from the north end of the house, but couldn’t tell where it was coming from. Probably the renters. There was someone home there, though there pretty much always is.

Now that I ate my way back up to 132, I’ll diet back down to 127. See, if I kept eating 2000 calories a day, I’d easily gain 100 pounds in a year!

Later…

Our ghost is getting antsy for us to leave, so not only did the place reek of death, but while I was listening to music, it began playing volume games. My stereo’s volume is set in 2-decibel increments. Well, I suddenly noticed a song got a little softer and saw it had dropped to 24 all by itself from 20. I bumped it back up to 20, and it magically went back down to 24 again. I don’t have to be an electronics expert to know it can’t do that on its own or on account of any mechanical problem.

Amazon Books emailed me saying that 2 of the 3 books I listed didn’t sell, so I threw them in the sell-it-or-leave-it pile we have in the living room.

Not surprisingly, I still haven’t received Haiku. I’m so beyond being fed up with this doll delivery curse that’s been on me ever since I started collecting, and I’m very, very seriously considering hanging it up. Tom says not to worry and that he’ll call Ricki Monday and that we’ll get either the doll or our money back, reminding me that it’s her responsibility to get her here.

I know it is, so then why is it that I’ve been the one having to fight for her for a month now? Why is it always up to me to email or call people to get them to do their damn jobs? I’m so fucking sick of having to correct other people’s mistakes and do their work for them! I wonder if I should even get the mannequin when the time comes. I mean, would they get it to me? I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal for people to put things in the mail and just mail them off!

Ricki took the money for it last night, so somebody fucked up somewhere be it her or UPS. The damn doll could be anywhere, and who knows if it’s traceable? Maybe she had the printing label done up on the 20th but didn’t ship the doll till today. I checked her email, and from what I read, she was talking about sending it on Friday the 20th, not this Friday. And I don’t like how she’s ignoring my email. All I know is that I’m not ordering any more dolls. I’ll get them in person or I won’t get them at all. I don’t want them with the mail games included in the price. Meanwhile, until the delivery curse hits other things, other things are what I’ll get, but not till we’re moved and settled.

The winner of Valentine still hasn’t sent us the cashier’s check for her, so come Monday, assuming nothing arrives tomorrow, Tom’s going to let her know that we’re not going to play mail games with her either and that the doll will go to the runner-up. I didn’t want this one to win in the first place because she had negative feedback. You’re not supposed to bid if you do, but people don’t know how to read. That’s why the camera is on its way to France.

So far we’re not doing so well this time around with our eBay listings. Perhaps that’s why we won the $15.

There is some good news in the midst of these doll headaches and that’s that both my supplies and Dalene are in Phoenix. I didn’t think there’d be a problem with Dalene. She’s plastic, after all. What sucks is that UPS doesn’t do Saturday deliveries, so she’ll have to sit there till Monday. The supplies, on the other hand, should be here tomorrow.

More good news is that the complete second season of Charlie’s Angels (with Cheryl Ladd and not Farrah) is due out in April! I was hoping it would be, and I’m also hoping that eventually, all the episodes with Kate will be out. I’d much rather buy them than play hit or miss with a DVD recorder once we get one. I’m glad I wasn’t Kate’s co-star. What torture it would’ve been if I couldn’t have had her! It’s too bad Jaclyn Smith isn’t my favorite angel. She was the only one who remained on the series throughout its 5-year run. I’d be surprised if they put out any DVDs after Kate left the show and Shelly Hack and Tanya Roberts hit the scene as its ratings plummeted from there. Anyway, this set will make a total of 49 episodes, and I believe she was in about 87, so I’ll be a little over halfway there. I made Tom watch some with me earlier and I told him I’d watch some of his favorites with him if he wants.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 26, 2004 Haiku’s tracking site never updated, yet because they never changed the delivery date listed, I’m still hoping she’ll be here today. Tom said it’d make them look really stupid if there was a delay and they didn’t update the delivery date, but people are too stupid to care just how stupid they look, so I’ll just hope for the best. All I know is that I’m getting really sick and tired of fighting for porcelain dolls. A person shouldn’t have to work to get dolls delivered to their door once they’ve been paid for. This is supposed to be the shipper’s responsibility. I shouldn’t have to call this person and email that person asking where the damn thing is, yet tomorrow, for the last time, I’ll call Ricki if I don’t get her today. If it turns out for some reason that she still has her, I’m going to tell her to keep her and refund my money. I’m not going to fight for a doll I’m not meant to have. I hate to have to deprive myself of any more porcelain dolls, but if Haiku doesn’t arrive today, I’m going to order all vinyls. For some reason, they don’t seem to have a problem getting to me. Not yet anyway. I might do Ashton, but I’ll have to do without Alexa, Sweet 16 Bailey, and dolls like that if there’s always going to be a problem getting them.

Tom says another possibility is that Ricki screwed up the shipping label and so they redid it with a different tracking number, and since you can’t trace packages by name, I can’t know this for sure.

Another thing that’s strange is that Ricki never took the rest of the money for her, but Tom says that may be simply because she’s waiting on delivery confirmation.

This will be it as far as Maricopa purchases go. We may be here another couple of months, but still, we don’t want anything cutting it too close.

There’s this gorgeous 40-acre parcel of land in northern Nevada that’s way remote. It gave me good vibes just from seeing shots of it on the computer screen. It might be good to make myself wrong about the White Mountains and get out of Arizona altogether. In Nevada, we can do internet gambling and I can get fruit trees shipped there if I want them. Plus, they don’t tend to play favoritism when it comes to non-whites, and I doubt they hate Jews and gays as much and have such ridiculous laws.

The good thing is that Bob sent me a tracking number and when I traced my package, I found that FedEx does Saturday deliveries, unlike UPS. They’re cheaper too, so as long as they can find us without always having to be led in by the hand, I just may like them better. Their tracking site is easier to navigate as well.

Last night Tom listed an old laptop and a horseracing game. The computer’s already up to $16 and he hopes to get a lot more than that come Sunday. Of my stuff, the hat’s got a bid on it.

I totally love my new Little Guy. Usually, it takes days to really bond with a new pet, yet if anything happened to him right now I’m sure I’d go to tears. He likes us better than the other rats, though today I saw him playing with one of them for the first time. I think he’ll like being in a huge wire cage with roommates better than being all alone in a small glass tank. Besides, he eats well here. I’m sure the store doesn’t give him the variety of food he gets here.

Although Little Fella’s still hanging in there, I don’t think I can keep him going much longer. He’s just too old. I’d be awfully surprised if he made it out of here with us.

We have this game we play where I walk up to the cage and he jumps up to the roof for me to open it and take him out. I think he’d literally jump up into my arms if he could! He loves to be held. Most rats tend to be fidgety in a person’s arms, even if they feel comfortable with them because they’re such animated creatures. This one’s got just as much spunk as any other young rat, yet he often parks himself either on my shoulder or under my ponytail at the nape of my neck and just sits there for a while.

Later…

Sure enough, Haiku never came, so I went and emailed Ricki and once again we’re playing the where-is-it? game. I’ve already deleted the names of other dolls from my list that I was going to get from her once we got moved and settled. They’re just not worth fighting for. Meanwhile, I hope I get the $27 she already took for it if no one’s going to deliver it to me.

I also think it was dumb of me to order from them just because they’re cheap. Discount prices usually mean discount service.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 2004 Tom’s painting right now so I thought I’d write.

Little Guy is such a sweetie. He sure is quick and nimble, too. He’s very calm, yet full of spunk. He loves to be handled and he jumps up at me when I walk by the cage.

I sculpted a mini stick burner last night, then colored it with permanent markers that won’t wash off. It’s the best burner yet if I do say so myself. The problem with most ash catchers is that they don’t have a dip in the center that’s long enough to catch all the ashes, so the ashes from the top of the stick tend to roll off. I also made the part that curves upward where you insert the stick stand up straighter so that the stick sticks pretty much straight out and closer to where the ashes fall. That way they won’t bounce off the edges. It’s a very sturdy and sure ash catcher.

I hope that the fact that I haven’t gotten a shipment notice from Bob doesn’t mean that the first order hasn’t been shipped yet. They’ve never taken longer than two weeks before, so maybe, just maybe, it’ll get delivered today. I don’t sense it, though.

Dalene went from Palatine, IL to Hodgkins, IL, then she departed from there at 7:00 this morning.

We all struggle in life and I know there’s no way around it, but God needs to ease up on us. He really does. Our struggles have been way too extreme. I mean, how often do people get thrown in jail for something they shouldn’t be thrown in jail for? And how often do people lose their house? I could keep going back in time and adding more extremities to the list, but I won’t. I just wish God would give us a break and give us more ordinary struggles to deal with. I’m also sick of the one thing after another bullshit. I wasn’t even done with the freeloaders and off probation much more than a month before Tom got shit on and fired. And this transition is taking forever! We know we lost the house, we’ve known it for months now (especially me), so it’s like, can we just quit with the delays and get on with it already? It’s like, just let us get moved even if it’s to a dump of a house or even an RV! I just want to get moved and stay there for at least 15 years if not forever. And I’d like a few months in between problems, too. Problems that are a little less off the wall.

Anyway, I still sense we’re going to the White Mountains and I still sense the $135,000, but I’m no longer sure of April with the way we had to stop and play form. A delay like this could bump it up a month or even two, but I guess I still sense we’ll be out of here in April. It just might be late April.

Later…

No wonder I didn’t sense a delivery today. Bob emailed me just now saying it’s going out today.

Anyway, I did some Barbie research and found that even the people selling the blue fairy on eBay say it’s very hard to find, so I ordered one for $16.99 + free shipping from New Jersey. Why that one’s so obsolete beats me, but it doesn’t seem that Walmart or K-Mart are going to carry it anytime soon.

Counting all the Barbies I’ve kept, along with friends of hers, I’ll have a total of 29 once the blue fairy arrives.

Still no update on Haiku, yet it still says she’s on for tomorrow’s delivery. Tom said he once tracked a package that didn’t update until the evening before the day it arrived. I’m going to be getting rather worried if there’s no update this evening. Why is it always the porcelain dolls that are so hard to get? I don’t have nearly the trouble I have with them when it comes to getting vinyl dolls.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 2004 We listed more items a little while ago, but by the time we got done with the 6 items I wanted to list, he was too tired to list his things, so he’ll list them Thursday and do 3-day listings. My stuff will end on Sunday evening just like last time. I’ve got the Autumn and Meagan dolls listed, 2 flags, a desk lamp, the revolving party light, and a sequined baseball cap. Tom had to edit it because he wrote sequenced instead of sequined.

I woke up miserably tired yesterday so I decided again to say to hell with my schedule for now while there’s nothing much going on. If I’m on nights when the house is on the market; they call before stopping by, so he can get me up when we get called. Last night I slept the 12 hours I knew I needed to sleep and didn’t get up till just before noon.

Although yesterday started off with me being tired, it was still a good day. We mailed Alex and Eve off to New York first. I believe they’re going to a store owner who’s going to resell them. Today Tom mailed the camera to France, and we haven’t yet received the cashier’s check from Michigan, so Valentine hasn’t been shipped yet. I think she’ll be going to a collector.

We zipped over to Casa Grande from the PO and checked out a few craft shops, but they didn’t have what I wanted, so we went to both Walmart and K-Mart. Walmart had a few figurines to paint, but I wasn’t impressed with them, so I got glitter paint and sculpting clay instead.

At K-Mart, I got the pregnant Midge doll who wears heels so high that I’m sure no pregnant woman would ever wear. Not that high anyway. You probably wouldn’t have your hair so long if you were pregnant either, and of course, her stomach gets perfectly flat when you remove the “womb” which isn’t very realistic. After childbirth, you have too much stretched-out flesh to get your stomach all that flat. Even I know that without ever having a kid, though a few women come close every now and then. Still, it’s a cute doll and adds variety to my collection. I even decided that since I’m getting to be more and more of a Barbie collector, I’d make a chart like my porcelain and fashion doll chart, and so I did. It took quite a while to create as I had to sift through journals to find out when I got who.

Because of all the controversy over the pregnant Midge doll, she’s starting to be pulled off the shelves. Tom said he heard the controversy was over people not wanting anything sexual related to a child’s toy which makes no sense. If this is really the case, then no dolls of any kind should exist as we all got here by sex. I heard it was over sending a message saying that family is the only suitable lifestyle. Either way, it’s true that they preach certain lifestyles too much, suggesting other ones aren’t good. It’s okay to have family this and career that but what about being single? How about being gay? And why not be single with kids? I think it’s horrible how in today’s world a pregnant woman is as scoffed at as a working woman of the 60s was. Everyone’s an individual, and as long as they’re not harming others they should be able to live their lives as they see fit and everyone else should stay out of it and mind their own damn business.

Our last stop was at Pick-A-Pet. We wanted to get a younger rat for Baldilocks to play with and so we did. He’s a cutie. I liked him right away and he seemed to do the same with me. He’s of a solid color which isn’t quite white nor is it tan. It’s like a soft cream color. Since we’ve had Little Buddy and Little Fella, I’m calling this one Little Guy. They had him alone in the store for a couple of weeks to be segregated from the rowdier rats. When the girl there picked him up, he seemed eager to be handled and didn’t run and cower in the corner of his small glass cage (we could tell he’d never climbed a wire cage before when we got him home).

The girl there also told us of these people who not only let their rats run around loose, but they sleep with them, too! I don’t see how even the heaviest of sleepers could do that. If they sleep at night, that’s when the rats are most active.

Once we got him home he was a little intimidated by the others but is getting used to them. He’s capable of escaping if he really wants to, but he hasn’t. However, he sure does love to explore when I let them out. Tom and I play with them together at times and I was amazed at how far he ventured away from home. Normally they start out little by little, getting further away with time. Unlike his roommates, he just may end up crossing the kitchen.

Anyway, it had stormed before we left. Then, right after we got back in it poured like hell, partially filling the washes.

I surprised myself by sculpting a rat and in no time at all, too! Then I baked him up firm and painted him with the 6 different colors I got of the glitter paint. Not a bad first try. I always had the feeling I could sculpt, though I don’t expect to take it that seriously and be sculpting dolls. I don’t care to do it bad enough to get that good. I’d rather concentrate on other things like painting/selling figurines. Since we can’t find a good selection in person, we’ll probably order concrete/cement/plaster molds from an eBay store with the sale money from this latest listing. There are some flowers, mermaids, angels, rabbits and Indians I like.

Haiku’s tracking never updated, but neither did her delivery date, so I’m going to assume she’s somewhere in Texas right now, will hit Phoenix tomorrow, then here the next day. Can’t wait!

Meanwhile, Dalene’s getting ready to leave Illinois and will be here Monday, March 1st!

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 2004 Yesterday was a lot of fun! Yes, life really does improve with age. We talked, laughed and joked along the way about all kinds of things. Despite Tom’s faults, and we all have them, there’s definitely no one else like him in the world. Guess I wouldn’t be coming up on a decade of marriage if there was.

We were talking about what we’d do if we were suddenly the only people in the world. I’d want to live on the beach in California. We’d both want to raid the stores worse than the blacks did when they had to carry on like spoiled little children over the Rodney King verdict (though I always agreed those white pigs were guilty). Tom pointed out that it’d be hard not to be tempted to do things that were dangerous, like flying big jets. That would be tempting, alright.

Anyway, we headed out at 9:30 in search of yard sales. As I told Tom would be the case, there were very few because we were looking for them. It’s when you’re not looking that you find these things. We did make several stops, though, and we got a lot for our money. There were only two yard sales. The first stop was at a church rummage sale. I was kind of glad not to find anything there of interest as I didn’t exactly like the idea of our money going to a church.

We drove through the area closer to the mountain that’s gorgeous with tons of saguaros and that was also too expensive for us. I was bummed to have gotten such dull land, but now I’m glad we did or else that’d be two things that’d be hard to give up. Giving up the house will be hard enough.

Once we felt we’d gone far enough and decided to turn back, we passed a scummy-looking cock trying to hitch a ride. I told Tom he should’ve teased the sucker and turned around right after we passed him, making him think we were stopping to pick him up. He laughed at that one.

Then we were nearly run off the road by some cock who passed us on a single-lane road. Right as we turned onto a double-lane road and I told Tom to run and jump on top of him and tailgate the sucker and that there were no pigs around, one passed us heading the opposite way. Fortunately, though, the pig didn’t stop and turn around to chase us because we were 6-7 miles overboard. Meanwhile, Tom scared the cock off, cuz pig around or not, he went flying down the road like the devil was chasing him. It was pretty funny.

We discussed the possibility of having a street name at the new place, and Tom said that although he thinks we will, maybe we’ll get to name it. That’s when I said, “How about Don’t Fuck with Me Lane?”

He said, “That’s something you’d name it, alright. I like Incense Lane.”

I said, “Yeah, or Angel Lane since Angel is my favorite fragrance and a nice name as well.”

After we stopped at the Stanfield Circle K, we zipped across the street to another yard sale, but found nothing there, either. They just had one Barbie in which one of the women there was bragging about it being from the 60s which was precisely why I didn’t want it. I’m a modern doll collector.

The next stop was at a gift shop in Casa Grande. They had a lot of cute knickknacks, but nothing that really jumped out at me, so then we went to Eckard’s drugstore where I found an adorable figurine. Actually, it’s pretty big compared to most, so I’d say it’s more like a statuette. It was unfinished with just a coat of flesh tone as it was meant to be an outdoor decoration. It’s a little girl with ponytails kneeling on the ground, legs tucked under her, holding a bubble. The plastic bubble really looks just like a bubble, too. There’s a wicker basket by her side, too. I knew right away I didn’t want to throw her outside with the dogs and for the birds to poop on her, so I picked up kid’s washable paints at K-Mart and a set of brushes. I named her Katrina after a character in my current best seller, so to speak. I painted her hair yellow-blond, the bows in her hair purple, and her dress pink with blue and green accents. I did her nails in pink and her eyes blue. Doing the eyes and eyelashes was the hardest. I did orange dots for earrings and made the basket blue with orange around the top. The basket would be good for flowers, coins and other little things. Right now I have a few packs of gum in it. She’s on brown dirt with clumps of green grass. I wish the brown was lighter, but the paint kit came with all darker browns. She was definitely worth the $13, plus the few bucks the paints and brushes cost. She’s a good size and would be 16” high if she could stand.

This brought us to another possible selling idea. Since it’s only $10 a month to open an eBay store, we might add painted figurines that I paint to sell along with the incense. It’s fun to do, and tomorrow we’re going to check out some craft stores in Casa Grande. Maybe we’ll get some molds.

Because of the new Walmart, K-Mart was near dead. We had to wait forever at the register, though. The only other things I got there were a set of 7 scented shower gels and a silver glitter barrette to replace the purple glitter barrette I just lost that I’d had for a million years. Must’ve had it since I was somewhere between 15-20.

The only other stop we made was at a dollar store. I don’t know why they say they’re a dollar store when half the things in it are more than a dollar. For $2, I got a thick bushel of long brown hair attached to a hair clip. This way if I want to go long without having the hassles of having to wash and brush it till my own hair gets long again, I can use this. It’s similar to the one I had back east that was on a banana clip. A few more gray hairs, though, and it won’t look right.

Yesterday was Lin S’ birthday yet Memolink didn’t give her the 50 points they gave Jodi, so they must either know who Lin S really is or quit giving out birthday points.

I ordered 23 100-packs a little while ago. I’ll be looking forward to that, along with the dolls and supplies.

Today we’re doing the usual Sunday things – laundry, trash burning, and Tom’s edging in the bathroom. I draped an old sheet over the rat’s cage just in case it was the paint fumes that made LF ill.

Later…

The 4 items we sold tonight did pretty well. I paid a total of $80 for the 3 dolls I sold and made back a little more than half of that, not counting shipping. Alex and Eve sold to the same person in New York for $14.55 and $21.50, Valentine sold to someone in Michigan for $5.50, and his camera sold to some idiot in France for $8. He’ll have to let the stupid shit know that we specifically said we’d only ship within the US and that if they really want the damn thing, they’ll have to foot the postage.

He got an email while he was out burning from someone in Australia asking if they could bid on one of the dolls, but by the time he got around to checking his mail, the auction had ended.

He says he’s willing to be flexible if they’ll pay the postage, but I’m like, as flexible as France? I don’t know if that’s worth the time and trouble.

Next week I’ll be listing 12” Autumn and 16” Meagan, but not 22” Amelia. She’d be too much shipping, so I’ll either yard sale her or keep her. Whatever’s meant to be. I’m also going to list those 2 lamps and 2 flags. He’ll have half a dozen things to list, too. Oh, and we’re going to relist 5 of the 6 plates as well. We want to research one of them further as it could be worth a lot of money.

Anyway, for the first time in ages, I feel like I’m working at something I enjoy, and for once, for once, I’m getting paid for my work, so that’s nice. Doing things for nothing is okay every so often, but when that becomes all you do for so many years, you start wishing you could get a little something for all your time and effort.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 20, 2004 That’s 3 days in a row they boomed by, so I’m glad I decided to stay on days. I let myself sleep in till 9:00 yesterday to get the 10 hours of sleep I knew I needed. Today, though, I got up at 8:00 and tomorrow I’ll get up at 7:00. That’ll give me a couple of hours to wake up before we go scout out the local yard sales to see if we can find anything good to sell on eBay. I can’t wait! I’m totally looking forward to it. Maybe I’ll find something good for me, too. This selling frenzy we’ve been on is fun!

When I got up this morning I was afraid I’d get no email pertaining to Haiku and an email saying that Dalene, who we finally got around to ordering last night, was out of stock. However, there’s a pending transaction to take the money for Dalene, and UPS sent me the tracking number for Haiku! Finally, she’s on her way! She and Dalene are both coming via UPS and may arrive on the same day.

Alex has 5 bids and is up to $8, Eve has 5 bids and is up to $10.06, and Valentine has 4 bids and is up to $5.50.

I got a letter from Mary. She’s been doing well. She mentioned the doll pictures I sent, but not my stories. I hope she got them and just forgot to mention it.

She said she hasn’t felt like working on the book, though she did enclose a letter for Maria for me to translate which I had fun doing.

Another month and she’ll have been there a whole year. By now she must’ve had to put up with a million cell changes and other changes as well as new rules. Nothing ever seems to stay the same for long in jail, prison or on probation.

It’s still looking like we’ll end up in the White Mountain area and we’ll probably leave here in an RV or trailer of some kind and then buy the land, rather than buy it first. We want to scout it out and for me to use my vibes to focus in on if there’s any evil lurking about a particular piece of land or not.

Her cousins are sending her money which is good, since she’s so disgusted with Carolyn, not that I can blame her. If I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a thousand times – the best thing she could do would be to walk away from her family forever. Maybe even Adam if he’s still associating with her mom as he may try to pressure her into contacting her. Sometimes we really gotta wipe the slate clean like that, but most importantly, she’d be ridding herself of people who have used and abused her in just about every way possible. No one can make her walk away from her family, particularly her mother, Carolyn, Rick and Derek, but I can’t stress enough just how much better off I think she’d be. Take it from someone who put up with 31 years of abuse from her parents, aunts, uncles, brother and sister, I told her, then finally mustered up the courage and self-respect it took to pull back and see them for the people they really truly are. Once she does that and once she asks herself if they’re her type, she can be rid of them and move on. I understand she’s young and it’s a difficult thing to do at her age. When people told me I shouldn’t have anything to do with people like my family who could do the things they’ve done to me when I was younger, I just couldn’t imagine having the strength to let go. After all, our family is all we’ve known and so it’s not an easy thing to do when we’re young. It wouldn’t surprise me in the least if she did end up cutting them off in the future and wished she’d done so years ago. It takes guts, and the more she sees her family for what they are, and the more she grows and gets stronger, the easier it will be to let go of the bad and move on to the good. I told her not to let anyone try to tell her that dumping her family is cold. They wouldn’t be so quick to say that if it was a lover that was abusive, would they? People put too much stock in biology, but as far as I’m concerned, biology is no excuse for even a fraction of the things her family’s done to her, nor what mine have done to me.

I don’t understand why her case is taking so long. Why don’t they just get the trial over, give Monster his sentence, give her hers, then move on? I mean, what’s the big deal? Why the multi-year holdup? Those snipers who shot up a zillion people a year or two ago are already tried/convicted.

Come to think of it, I wonder if the February “win” vibes were really all about the swap meet and eBay, and perhaps I just assumed they were about tickets cuz I didn’t know we’d be doing that for sure this month.

Anyway, we don’t know yet how we’re going, where we’re going, and what we’re going to live in till the house is built. We may live in an old single-wide or an RV. We may sell the car and go up in either a U-Haul or a trailer that we’ll pull the truck with, or get rid of so much stuff that we can fit it all in just the car and truck, though I doubt that one.

I wonder if people let their dogs run loose in the White Mountains as well. It wouldn’t surprise me if they did. It just doesn’t seem customary for Arizonans to take their dogs indoors unless they’re Miss Perfect.

I just made myself up a bundle of butter rum incense. It felt so good to be able to do that too, and just make my own!

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 2004 No Mary mail today. I’m still waiting to hear her review of my books, but she doesn’t usually write unless she has drafts to enclose, which means she probably hasn’t been in the mood to do drafts. I know now that her aunt does have my number, so if something were wrong, really wrong, I’d get a call. Or, as I should put it, a message, since I don’t usually answer my phone. I don’t always hear it ringing either, depending on where I am and what I’m doing.

In the midst of the happy, productive feeling I’ve had what with working and getting paid for my work, there is some sorrow mixed in, for my Little Fella’s dying. Since he doesn’t appear to be suffering, I’m trying to put spells on him to prolong his life for as long as possible. If he were suffering, I wouldn’t do it. That’d be selfish and cruel.

Tom listed an old camera he has from the late 30s and I listed Valentine. Later he’ll go through the sheds to see what old junk he has in there he can sell.

I told him getting tickets is a waste of time because of all the selling we’ve been doing. Because of that, we’re going to be compensated with losing tickets, I told him, but he’s been getting them anyway cuz it’s fun for him.

I told him to beware of a tire blowing on one of the vehicles. Sure enough, he said one on the car started leaking.

Later…

Little Fella’s still hanging in there, and the spell I put on Tom to protect him from spiders and scorpions so he could safely rummage through the sheds seemed to work well. He always runs into them in the sheds.

I’ve been having a blast running around the house looking for things to sell while we’re on this successful selling streak. All things we don’t want, naturally. When the shipment of supplies arrives, we’ll probably put together a variety pack of sorts, both with and without burners, to sell on eBay, too. They sell tons of incense on eBay, though, so I don’t know for sure if we’ll do this. It seems you can sell just about anything on eBay.

Since Valentine also got a bid, I think maybe next Tuesday I’ll list Amelia, Autumn and Meagan. Tuesdays are good for beginning 5-day listings. As we’ve learned, prime time on eBay is in the evenings, especially on weekends so we want our auctions to end then. I’ll also try selling the two remaining flags I have, a cap decorated with sequins, the crystal lamp and the revolving disco light.

I don’t know if it means anything, but it hit me that we may not be punished for moving in the way we were for moving here because of how we’re being forced out. We were forced out of Phoenix too, but not in the way we’re being forced out of here. Where we end up, though, could be a punishment in itself, so we’ll just have to wait and see. All I know is that something wanted Tom out of the bank and us out of this house. Somewhere within the next 45-90 days, we should know why.

Later…

Oh no, I won’t be letting my schedule go. Not with the thunderous booms I just heard. I hate feeling controlled like this! Sleep is one department I haven’t been able to lift the curse from, but because I don’t have to get up 5 days a week in order to make a living, I doubt I ever will. I figured it was something up there’s way of compensating me with the fact that I don’t have to work. Still, I wish people would leave my fucking sleep alone. If it isn’t neighbors waking me up, it’s something else.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 17, 2004 It seems we’ve traded in booms for shots. Yeah, they’re shooting up a storm out there. I don’t know why, but they’re shooting every day from sunrise to sunset like last year.

He started my Imprisoned Love story yesterday and said he didn’t like the start of it, saying it seemed too busy and almost like I was in a hurry to get through it. Yeah, there’s a lot of action crammed into not so many pages.

Meanwhile, the story I’m working on now may end up taking forever. Especially if I’m unable to work on it for a while.

I’m surprised and pleased to report that both dolls have bids on them. Eve’s had 27 views and Alex has had 24. Maybe the sell curse is off! With their sale money, I’ll probably buy some more dipped 100-packs. It’d take 23 scents to cover the $50 minimum, so I think I’ll get baby powder, black Henry, black magic, black narcissus, booty call, butt naked, bump & grind, cedar, fast cash, hot love, jasmine, magnolia, majmua, morning mist, patchouli, puddy cat, strawberry musk, strawberry vanilla, sun moon stars, sweet musk, vanilla melon, white diamonds & white linen.

We’ve been discussing the various alternatives as far as what to do until we’re in the house. We may even rent an RV instead of getting a cheap old single-wide. That way we won’t have to play hotel while we’re waiting for the dump to be set up. The septic in particular can cause enough of a delay. Or maybe we’ll rent a drivable moving van. For just a little over $200, we found that we could get a drivable van that’ll hold furniture from a 4-bedroom house, and use it to pull the truck. We’d then sell the car and the old green truck.

However we’re going, wherever we’re going, I just want to get it over with!

We agree that it’d be best to build the house in modules. Why wait till it’s all complete when we can start with a bedroom and a bathroom and use it right away?

I hope Haiku gets shipped out this week without any more delays! I think that if there are any more problems I’m going to tell her to forget it and to refund the part of the money she’s already taken.

Later…

We’re really turning the tables as far as our luck and old curses go! Not only was I astonished to get a check from Netflip for the $23.90 they owed me, but also, Eve’s now up to $10.06. Still down to $1.25 on Alex, but she’s black, so that’s probably why.

Tonight I plan to list the 14” Valentine fairy on a 5-day listing, starting at a buck. Porcelains aren’t in demand like vinyl is, so I don’t know if she’ll sell. If she doesn’t, I’ll try to sell her at the tag sale. If that doesn’t work, then I guess she was meant to stay with me as I won’t be leaving her behind in the house.

He worked on the bathroom while I worked on the retreat earlier. I got almost half of it done.

Calling a realtor tomorrow as we planned is going to be delayed a week or two. Tom sent the bank a letter a week ago telling them that we plan to sell. He then planned to give it till today to see if he heard back from them about it, saying he had to go through certain procedures. Sure enough, there’s this form they want him to fill out before it can be listed. In the meantime, I’ll probably let my schedule go for a while.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 2004 Today we’re painting and getting the house presentable for the realtor who he’s going to call in two days. I’m not just worried that the realtor and or potential buyers will try to fuck us over because there are evil, greedy people everywhere and because we’re cursed with that, but I worry about Tom’s Mr. Nice Guy appearance/attitude. I really believe that’s part of why so many people have taken advantage of him. He doesn’t need to be a monster, but if I were seeking someone to screw over, just a few minutes of talking with him and I’d get the impression big time that I could walk all over him and that he wouldn’t fight back. So hopefully he won’t come off as too nice this time around. Better to be a bitch and scare people off than to be so nice that you end up being a magnet for trouble.

The 16” vinyl Alex and Eve dolls were listed last night at a buck with no reserve. Tom thinks they’ll sell, but I have my doubts. Anyway, we’ll find out next Sunday. They’ve had 10 views so far.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 2004 Oh, those damn freeloaders and the headaches they put us through! And damn the colorblind idiots who call this paint soft pink when it’s really a cross between off-white and light peach. It’s a lovely color - don’t get me wrong - it’s just that it’s going to take two coats to cover the blue tulip design in the bathroom, and that room’s no doubt going to be hard enough on Tom with all he has to paint around. He even has to paint around the mirror because the damn thing’s glued on because they couldn’t line the screws up with the studs. He says it’ll be easy enough to scrape off any paint he gets on it, though, once it’s dry.

I’m going to be doing most of the retreat myself, but now that we know the pink doesn’t cover well because of how light it is, it’ll be done in blue.

Wednesday’s the day he decided to call the realtor. Tomorrow, President’s Day, I’ll do a basic cleaning to have it presentable for showing. I’ll keep it clean enough on the surface till it’s sold, then I won’t worry about it afterward. If I could survive all the cleaning I had to do when we moved in here, I’m sure the newcomers can handle putting forth a little elbow grease of their own. It’s not like it’ll be trashed, though. Actually, it’ll be cleaner than most people would leave it. I can just imagine the condition someone like Miss Perfect would leave her house in if she sold it, not that she ever would.

I’m sunburned and drained today, but won’t let myself take a nap as that’d foul up my schedule. It’s now at the point where I’ll need to be on a schedule till we’re settled in Dan’s dive. Tom thinks that’ll be 8 weeks from now, but I know that things usually take longer than expected, so I’m considering it to be 12-16.

I’m going to try to muster up the energy to work on my story since I may have to be without my computer for a couple of months or more. Hand-writing journals is one thing, but hand-writing stories is the worst way to go, I think, because of all the changes you make along the way. Therefore, I’d recommend those with computers who like to write stories use that. Even a typewriter hardly seems suitable to me. I was shocked when Mary told me that Stephen King supposedly hand-writes his stories before he types them up. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to do that.

I’m not going to worry about my weight till we’re settled in the new place. Then I’ll decide whether or not to try to maintain it or allow myself to gain whatever, since losing isn’t really an option. When we were at the swap meet I looked around at all the people and thought, no wonder they say the average American is overweight. Very few were thin, and of course, most who were thin were mostly under 30.

We opted not to return to the swap meet today because of our sunburns and because we figured the same people would be there since it’s such a small town.

Tom thinks the buyers will want a home inspection done here as well, and I was like, on a 4-year-old house? But he says it’s not just to see that the house is structurally sound, but to get a warranty, and that basically everyone has it done.

I wasn’t going to do this, figuring that it’s not the buyer’s fault that someone had to fuck us over and cause us to lose the house, even if we are ready to go, but they’re still invaders as far as I’m concerned, that’ll be living in my house. Therefore a curse is in order. I shall hex the people’s lives who move in here. Again, I know it’s not their fault, but hey, lots of things happen to us that we didn’t ask for. I shall damn them with illness, depression, and financial woes.

I asked Tom and he assured me we can’t lose the house once it’s built because we’ll own it outright. Therefore, no one could possibly have a hold on it in any way or start a chain reaction that ultimately causes us to end up losing it. This was comforting to know because if there’s one thing in life I’ve learned it’s that if there’s a way for people to control your fate, they will. They may not always have those exact intentions and they may be affecting it in an indirect kind of way, but still, if they can seal your fate in the slightest of ways, they will. This doesn’t mean we’re totally exempt from someone burning it down, but I think that’s a lot less unlikely as opposed to other events that could cause us to lose it.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 14, 2004 After 5 hours at the swap meet, we did astonishingly well. We made $185! Just the old Nintendo alone was $40 and we sold half of the CDs so that was like $75 more right there. One guy, like me, was a huge Linda Ronstadt fan and bought 8 CDs, all of her. One woman bought about 25 CDs. Her daughter kept saying, “Ok, that’s enough, that’s enough,” and I was like – will you shut up!

They surprised us with what they bought and didn’t buy. We didn’t expect things like the Barbies, CD cleaner, kites, and thermal cups to sell. We were surprised the lamps didn’t go, along with the boom box. Tom was right in predicting that the old sewing machine would sell, though, and that the two porcelain dolls wouldn’t.

Half the people spoke Spanish and there were these guys who knew no English that asked me if the old TV was cable-ready. When I told them it wasn’t, they were no longer interested, making me wonder if perhaps I should’ve played dumb to their Spanish. Tom says they wouldn’t have gotten it anyway.

Most people’s merchandise, from what I could see, was clothes and jewelry. I got a beautiful bracelet for $2 from the same lady I bought the wind chimes from. It has a cluster of pink glass stones in the center of it and clear glass stones on the side. It’d make a good doll choker as well.

I also got a gorgeous shiny shirt that has these sequin-like things on it for $5, but I’m going to either put it on the mannequin whenever I get around to getting one which should be this year or use it to make clothes for the fashion dolls. Maybe I’ll send it to Ricki to make a dress for that Chari doll. Then again, I doubt I’ll do that as I don’t know if there’d be enough material to make something for 23” Chari.

We sold all but one of the 5 quilts we had, a hand vacuum, one of the coffeemakers, coffee filters, a mirror, a stuffed rabbit, a jewelry box, some duffel bags, some knickknacks, the little palm plant, plus a purple and yellow flower arrangement, and what else? I wish I’d taken notes on what we sold, as well as bags for people to put stuff in so we wouldn’t have to give up one of the boxes that would’ve been good for moving.

They came at us the instant we got there, barely giving us time to set up. I had to keep my eye on the table while he kept his eye on the truck, which became a table as well since we ran out of room on the 3 tables we took.

A few women bought quite a bit, but they became obnoxious after a while because they were distracting and getting in the way of other customers.

All the old plates sold, and I think a couple of glasses did, too. I was surprised the really nice cut glasses didn’t sell. We did sell candle holders, candy dishes and little things like that. The most shocking thing to sell was Giselle’s head. Another vendor bought it and put it on his display table. Same with a small clock he got from the bank. The guy next to us got it, but it never sold and he packed it in right before we did. I was surprised none of the cat and dog mugs sold, but they did get some pots, all 3 drawing books, the English/Spanish dictionary, a purple puff scrubber with a handle on it, an old cactus pitcher, and some old silverware. They also got the 3-tier candle that gave off soot. Only one bag of incense sold and that was the brown sugar. I agree with Tom that we probably would’ve sold more had we had burners and maybe even one burning.

One of the women was telling another woman, “Hey, I saw your son in court the other day.” My first thought was that she worked for the courts, but nope. She got in trouble herself for writing bad checks.

The kids didn’t get too obnoxious, though there were a couple of kids running around screaming for a while next to us.

The weather was perfect. A little chilly to start with, but the winds were calm. We both got sunburns on our faces. We forgot to put sunscreen on before we left.

It only costs $2 to set up. The swap meet is held in a huge lot by a convenience store with a fast-food restaurant next to it. I used their bathroom once and got us some soda and munchies.

I had to stop saying things were a “quarter” when someone would pick up a 25¢ item, and tell them it was “25¢” instead because they couldn’t understand my Eastern accent.

Some people had some weird stuff there, like an old parking meter. And I thought a mannequin for decoration was rather eccentric!

With the money from our surprisingly wonderful sales, I’m getting Dalene (finally) and he’s getting a jewelry-making kit. We have tons of pieces of turquoise that his mom gave us years ago. We just might be able to generate a few grand from that alone. Besides, jewelry might be a good thing to sell anyway simply because everybody loves and wants it.

I won’t be as hard-pressed for a home business once we get out of the huge house payments, but it’d still be nice so that Tom could work for us and not for someone else, and not have to worry about write-ups, firings or layoffs.

Anyway, we’re both very happy that we did so well.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 2004 I forgot to mention that the other day I received mail inviting me to a convention in Washington DC to receive a silver bowl with my name on it for outstanding amateur photography of 2004. However, even if we had the money to make the trip, Washington DC is not an appealing place to go and I don’t need a bowl. We were laughing at how they said they’d want me to give a speech on how I came to take the picture. I can just imagine that! I’d be like, “Well, I complained against the people with the wrong connections that were the wrong color which ultimately led to me being framed and thrown in jail. Then, when I got out of jail, part of the probation required community service, which was in my case, scrubbing labels off of old wine bottles, so that’s how Little Buddy came to be Hiding Amongst the Bottles.”

Little Fella’s been pretty funny ever since I moved his cage to the opposite wall so it’d be out of the way of the area we painted. After he was out running around for a while he’d run to the corner his cage has always been in looking for his house. Today he searched and searched, then decided to just plop himself down in the corner anyway. We dragged the cage back over, and sure enough, he hopped right on in it.

I’ve been calling the other one Baldilocks. His poodle-like fur is really thin.

We’re done painting in the living room and in my office. We decided not to add clouds to the office wall because it really doesn’t look all that great. I think this sponge would be better for making colorful splotches, but I’m not going to work that hard and spend that much money so someone else can live with it.

The window’s also been replaced, so that leaves just the bathroom and retreat to paint, plus tidying up outside a bit more. We’ll probably also take the wet vac and vacuum the sand out of the toilet tanks.

I was right and Tom was wrong. Coming to the end of week two, it’s still obvious I’m not going under 127. However, with my amount of muscle, age and height, 127 is an ok weight. I’m going to stick to the hourly workouts, but I’m going to bump my calories up to 1500 a day.

I’m afraid my February ticket vibes were nothing but false vibes. Especially since one of the Circle K stores isn’t selling Slingo tickets anymore.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 12, 2004 If I wasn’t convinced before that there’s a doll curse on me and that something likes to tease me with getting dolls, then I’d certainly be by now! I mean, I don’t fucking believe this shit! Now Ricki, who says she needs to kick herself in the rear, is saying the damn doll won’t be shipped till next Friday because she broke a hand and had to replace it. Why can’t I ever just order a doll and get it???

My first thought was that I wouldn’t get any more dolls from her, but no matter where I go, there’ll always be problems so I may as well get them from the cheapest place as long as they do a good job.

I got back in with Memolink as Lin S, but Tom still doesn’t think I’ll get anything from them. He’s now convinced they’re scammers. He thinks that site was deliberately rigged not to go away so they could use those who wracked points up as an excuse to get rid of them so that they’d have fewer people to give prizes to. We’ll find out sooner or later. They probably are scammers because as it is, I know I’ll never get the $15 certificate I ordered before they canned me, though I’ll still play along for now. Another reason why I won’t get it is this thing that doesn’t want me making money.

Speaking of money, I had a vibe saying we’d sell $67 worth of stuff on Saturday, but I don’t know. I don’t even know if I trust the vibes I had about winning on Slingo tickets this month.

A guy in Rhode Island won his mixed coins for $31, and soon we’ll be listing other things.

We ordered supplies today and this time we’re having them come via FedEx. I hope there are no delays or fuck-ups, I really do! We got $80 worth of stuff. Everything from 11” sticks, mini sticks, acrylic burners and wire pop-up burners, oils, big bags, small bags, and dipped angels.

We got the blue part of the mural wall done and most of the blue on the office wall. We still have to fill it in, add clouds to both walls, then tackle the bathroom and retreat.

Tom’s hoping a developer will buy this land because then it might be easier to let them deduct a couple of thousand dollars from the price so we can stay a couple more months and not be so pressured to find new land so fast. Land-splitting is a popular trend, so that’d be nice. Plus, I still worry the renters and the dogs and trash that they can’t get a lid on will deter potential couples and or families from wanting to live here.

I just hope there are no evil spirits awaiting me at the new place! No punishments or compensations. I’ll be damned if I’ll go to jail again for getting something I really want. I really believe that that was part of why God let them frame me; because I left the city. That and my fighting back against the blacks and Mexicans. Or trying to anyway.

Tom brought up a good question pertaining to the spirit that dwells here, and that’s how far does its territory extend? Is it possible that we would never have encountered it if we’d set the house on the other side of the wash, for example? Am I its only target? Or will it be a nuisance for anyone who lives here? Will it follow me if it is primarily after me?

Nonetheless, Tom thinks I’ll be happier in a different climate where I can be outdoors more often. I’m not indoors so much here solely because of the heat we have for most of the year but because of all the dogs running loose as well.

Paula’s last package went out yesterday. I realize it isn’t just a matter of whether or not I could ask her for a little money if we needed it that bothers me, but the fact that she didn’t take the initiative on her own to send any when she knew damn well we needed it and when she got thousands of dollars. I’m sure it’s all gone now, though, spent on that sick cock of hers. She can’t send me one single solitary letter without a favor in it. It seems the more I give, the more I get taken advantage of. I’ve certainly done way more than enough for the girl, so I’m just going to ignore her for a while.

My weight’s been hanging around the 127-pound marker. I’m really surprised I haven’t gone back up to the 130s, though not surprised I haven’t gone under 127 like he still thinks I will. If he ends up right, I’ll have to figure out why I lost the weight so I’ll know what to do when I go to lose weight in the future. My first guess will be the much-extended workouts. Before I got this exercise ball, I sure as hell wasn’t working out an hour every day, faithfully. The ball makes ab work much easier and more comfortable. Mary, who’s also heavily into working out, ought to try it once she’s out.

After I was the one who figured out how to remove the lower window that’s cracked which I laughed at Tom for, he took it out and is now in Casa Grande getting it replaced. That’ll be $30 the damn ghost cost us! They just better do it right if they don’t want to be the first to screw us over and not get away with it and have it be the first time I fight back and do get away with it.

Speaking of getting away with things, well, as Tom pointed out, if anyone would get caught, it would be us, so due to the fact that we have no business license yet, we’re going to put just a plain label on the bag with the fragrance name along with instructions so no idiots go lighting it like a candle. It’d be just our shit luck for some off-duty pig, maybe even the one that came out with the bullshit story, to nail us on some form of no-no while others got away with whatever, so we’re being extra careful.

I just hope I don’t run into that tale-telling pig, though to tell you the truth, I doubt I’d recognize him if I saw him. In fact, I’m sure I wouldn’t. I only saw him twice for a few minutes, and he was obviously as ordinary-looking as most guys are to me, or else I’d remember him. I just picture him as being the type to come up to me and boldly say, “Hi, Jodi. How ya doing? Remember me? I’m the one that arrested you,” in the way an old acquaintance would say, “Remember me? I helped build your house a few years back.”

I would completely come unglued if this happened, though I can’t imagine it happening. I know things have happened that I thought couldn’t or wouldn’t happen, but if all continues to go well, God will never again punish me with the blacks, Mexicans or anyone that was associated with them.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 2004 I thought maybe, just maybe, today was the day and I would find myself at 126, but no. I’m 127½. I know I’ll never lose any more weight. The question is, do I maintain what I’ve got or let myself gain more? It’s just that if I let myself climb to 140-150, I may very well never be able to get back down to where I’m at now. My weight’s been elevated too long which is no doubt the reason I’m unable to lose the weight. Your body gets so used to being a certain weight after so long that it gets really hard to change it. Also, a lot of my weight is muscle. Even Tom agrees I don’t look more than 120 pounds. The only way to lose more weight from here would be to lose the muscle and I don’t want to do that. It’s also hard when each thing you eat puts a pound on you and you only lose 2 pounds in your sleep. So if I have popcorn, a sandwich, and a bowl of soup, that’s 3 pounds right there, and I’d only sleep off 2 of them.

They’ve been awfully trigger-happy for the last few days. I wonder why they started up all of a sudden after all this time.

Another Wednesday I don’t have to play report, though I doubt report days are still Wednesdays. I’m sure it’s changed by now along with a zillion other things.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 10, 2004 My allergies are acting up a bit, but so far I’m holding out on having to use the spray.

Yesterday we priced the stuff we hope to sell at the swap meet. Most of it is in 25¢ or $1 groups. I just hope it isn’t windy that day or something! We’ll also be hoping to sell about 5 bags of each of the 5 fragrances we have so far. Today we’ll order fruit, watermelon, grape, and chocolate oils to complete one of the variety packs, plus a 100-pack of dipped angels for me, along with bags and sticks. We want to make sure the curse has been lifted enough that we can sell it first before we go all out. Besides, we don’t have the money to do so right now anyway. We need to hang onto what we’ve got for the new land.

They had the perfect, and I mean perfect, deal online in northern AZ which is now where my vibes are strongly placed (in or near the White Mountains). There was a 37-acre lot that already had the dive on it which we plan to live in till we get our castle built. It was 1000 square feet which sure beats the 600-800 I was afraid we’d end up stuck in. This wasn’t on eBay either. Buying from eBay makes me a little nervous. It’d be just our shit luck to buy a piece of land, go on out to it, then find it doesn’t exist. It’s very unlikely, but unlikely things do happen, and knowing that God hates us enough to have something like that done to us, isn’t very comforting. I had to ask myself many times – are you sure God would let that happen?

Yes, he would, was the answer. And with no qualms whatsoever, so this is why we really have to look out for ourselves because we’re all we really have in that department. I’d like to think that God didn’t quite hate us that much, and he probably doesn’t, but you just never do know.

I heard a bunch of bangs yesterday afternoon that I thought were car doors at the new place in front. After so many of them, I realized that not even the freeloaders slammed that many doors when they’d set out on one of their many harassment campaigns. This was when it hit me that I was hearing gunshots, not car doors. I was surprised to hear them too, after so long without hearing them, and during the middle of the week, too. Tom said it sounded like target practice by the way they were firing so rapidly.

I still don’t have any bad vibes of anyone lurking about with evil intentions, so that’s good unless God’s keeping me from sensing them so I can be taken by surprise. As I said before, I just hope that if there is anyone with evil in mind, we’re out of here before they can act on it. I know better, though. If this were really the case, God’s going to make sure we’re right here where they can get at us.

I taped the bathroom in preparation for painting it. It’s just masking tape you use to edge along areas you don’t want painted.

As I told Tom, I think the best way to handle the broken windowpane in his office would be to remove it, then keep our mouths shut and hope it’s not noticed. If it does get noticed, all we have to do is say we weren’t aware of it. No one could peer into our brains and prove we really did know about it.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to moving, getting that over with and having more money as much as I’ll miss this house. I really hope it’s more remote. I want to live with nature, not people. If I want people, I can just go to the city. Most people are scared of remote, but I love that feeling of being the only ones around where we live. This is what I mean when I say God’s blessed me as well as cursed me. I have no fears. Absolutely no fears other than spiders, open heights and big dogs. Other than a few things, it’s like I lack the ability to feel fear, but I guess this is a good thing since fear is a negative emotion. The worst emotion, in my opinion, is depression, but still, I’m glad I’m so hard to scare!

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 2004 Yesterday turned out to be a fun day. When we got to the swap meet, people were still setting up so it wasn’t crowded at all. Tom was right about most of the stuff being junk, but not all of it was. They had some good books and those wind chimes were there, too. I got a couple of them for $5, then for just $1, who should I find there but Midge herself! The very one I was going to try to get on eBay till I ran out of money. This is the one with the painted-on bikini like Lea’s only Midge’s suit is blue and Lea’s is purple. I think that of all Barbie’s friends as well as Barbie herself, the Midge doll has the best face. She was in very good condition for being used. I sponged off the few scuff marks she had on her, washed her hair with liquid hand soap, brushed out the knots, and she was as good as new.

As I told Tom, I think we can sell some things there, but I don’t know how much. At least I don’t have to worry about anything being too dumpy. I mean, they had old pots and pans there that made our old ones, which I had worried may be too beat up, look like they’re brand spanking new.

After we left the place we headed for Casa Grande and Whataburger’s drive-through. On our way back we stopped at a smaller swap meet just past the huge dairy farm where Tom got an old computer for its fan and a backup drive, and I got 4 paperbacks, 3 of which are true crime stories, 1 of which is a James Patterson book Mary said she read. She said I have a lot of James Patterson in me, so I figure he must write stuff I’d like.

Anyway, we got masking tape and are going to spend the week pricing stuff, along with doing more painting and ordering more supplies.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 8, 2004 Today we’re going to the swap meet. I’m looking forward to checking it out. Tom has a little cash in case I want a $3 wind chime or a book in Spanish, which according to him, may be all I’d want since their stuff is so crappy.

I’m still not under 127, but I haven’t jumped back up either. I’m kind of taking the day off today, though I haven’t yet decided whether or not I’m going to allow myself a day off once a week from exercising. The good thing about it is that I couldn’t pig out if I wanted to since my stomach has shrunk down to nothing. A plate of spaghetti alone made me feel like I was going to burst.

How I wish I could continue losing 4 pounds a month! But me, 119 in two weeks? I don’t think so! I still don’t know that I’ll ever get under 127.

We decided to readjust our variety packs a bit. We decided to have 5 sticks of 6 scents in each pack and charge $5 for those we add burners to and $3 for just the incense. I settled on the floral pack having jasmine, carnation, gardenia, magnolia, patchouli, and cedar, though cedar’s a tree. The fruits and sweets pack will include fruit, watermelon, grape, brown sugar, chocolate, and butter rum. The miscellaneous pack will have fast cash, baby powder, vanilla musk, puddy cat, hot love, and black magic.

We started painting the mural wall to see how bad it would smell. It didn’t smell bad at all. We first thought it was lousy paint and that we wouldn’t get an even finish, but as it dried up, it was just fine. We have finished it yet, though.

Next week is when he’ll probably be contacting a realtor, and I hope it’s a woman. I really do.

I also hope I receive notification that Haiku’s on her way! I’m getting tired of waiting for that damn doll, but you know how it is when I order dolls. There’s always some delay or problem.

Next weekend is when we go to sell at the swap meet. This should give us a good idea of just how cursed or not-so-cursed we are/will be.

The unexplained foul odors continue to come in spurts. It seems 8:30 AM is one of its favorite times. It makes me wonder - if it really is connected to whatever lurks about this land - if it was killed at that time or something.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 7, 2004 Well, this is it. I’m now down to 127. The diet itself has gotten a bit easier because my stomach’s shrunk on account of not eating as much, but I still don’t know if I can lose any more weight. I’m going to be putting spells on like crazy! I doubt God would help me even if he did like me as I doubt he’d see an extra 30 pounds as being all that much of a crisis. So, I’m on my own to either succeed or not succeed at this point.

Tom’s been dieting too, having one sensible meal, plus two Slim-Fast shakes a day. Tomorrow, after we check out the swap meet, we’re going to go to Casa Grande for our meals at a drive-through, though at my height it may not be so sensible if I eat anything else, so I’m going to remember to eat only that. I’m going to get a kid’s meal at Whataburger. The chicken strips and fries. It’ll be close to 1000 calories, so I won’t have anything else but salad that day. The adult portions would simply be too much for me now after 5 days of eating so little.

Tom usually stops at the PO on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Today we’ll probably mail out Paula’s last incense package, and the last package ever for that matter. I haven’t heard shit from her. I’ll probably get drafts from Mary, though. She’s been on a roll with sending drafts every few days or so. She’s also been good with including letters, filling me in on her life and answering any questions, so that’s cool.

He finished my medical romance story yesterday and says it’s my best yet. I was surprised. I didn’t think that one was going anywhere. I mean, I didn’t think it was bad, but I didn’t think it was all that exciting either. Mary, who finds suspense really scary, just may think that one’s the best so far, too. She’s more of a romance person than a suspense person. At least she seems to be anyway. The Angel Eyes story, which I plan to tackle after I finish College Romance, should be more romance-like than anything else. I’ve already begun taking notes for that story.

We agree that it’s best not to tell potential buyers of this house about the sonic booms they’ll be in for. Most people sleep at night so they probably won’t mind them. It’s not like it’s every few minutes of every day that you hear them anyway. I mean, as much as I’d prefer to do without them myself, I’d much rather that than city noise. If they’ve never heard them before, they too, are going to be like what the hell? when they hear the first thunderous boom. I remember the first time I heard/felt it. I was asleep. Tom was working days. I thought someone broke into the house and I ran out of the bedroom ready to pounce. I felt like both an idiot and a very relieved person when I found no one there. The next thing I did was check to see if any shelves went down. When I found everything in its place I was really confused until Tom heard it, too. His first thought was that they were blasting a mountain somewhere. He didn’t realize right away it was sonic booms because he didn’t know they were allowed to do that over land, yet apparently, where there’s no ocean, they can fly.

FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 2004 I decided to weigh myself today. I’m a little bummed to find I’m at 128 and have only lost 3 pounds. Tom says that losing 1-2 pounds a week is reasonable for me, whereas a 3-4 pound-a-week drop is more reasonable for him. He says that if I give it till the end of the month, I should get under that infamous 127. I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to get my hopes up.

All the information out there about dieting/fitness can be as confusing as all the different religions, and eventually you end up not knowing what to believe.

Tom had an excellent selling idea. The idea is to buy little things from eBay, then sell them at swap meets. Originally, he thought he might do it the other way around and buy stuff from swap meets to sell on eBay, but the swap meets are selling pure crap. Nothing but overpriced junk.

Harrah’s casino wants to do an interview with him on Monday concerning a job emptying the slot machines which he doubts he’ll get. I doubt it, too. I don’t sense it. He’s going to stick to his original plan, though, and not take any jobs unless they pay well. If he gets a good-paying job, we’ll relocate somewhere around here. If not, there’s no sense in him taking shitty-paying jobs just to quit in a month or two when we move. For now, we’ve got shitty pay for doing nothing, though we are going to make up several bags of incense and check out the swap meet this weekend. Next weekend is when we’ll probably start selling.

If only we could sell enough stuff, be it from here or at swap meets, to keep him from needing a regular job! We’re sick of working for others. We want to be our own bosses where we don’t have to worry about write-ups, firings or layoffs. It’s all going to hinge on the incense, and of course, fate. We can only try our best and then the rest is up to whatever’s meant to be.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 5, 2004 This is day 4 of having just 1 sandwich, 1 popcorn, and 1 Ramen noodle packet, along with my hourly workout, and I ask myself – why do I bother? I’m only going to lose a few pounds, then stop once I hit 127. Oh well. I should be able to at least maintain my weight this way. If not, maybe I’ll quit food altogether and just eat like maybe once a week or something like that. We’ll see. I still don’t think I have diabetes or a wacky thyroid because I have no symptoms, and of course I can’t count on any help from above.

Tom got cans of light blue and pale pink paint. The bathroom and retreat will get the pale pink and one office wall along with the mural wall will get the light blue. Then we’ll take a can of white paint that came with the house for touch-ups and do the clouds with that. We’re going to start on the bathroom later on this morning.

WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 2004 I slept miserably, though I’m awake enough to write. The Air Force woke me up twice today and so did the hunger pains. I was like please, please God, give me strength! And if you won’t, please, if there’s anything else out there that can help give me the strength not to succumb to this hunger, help me! So far so good. As far as getting boomed and vibrated awake; I’m just going to have to get used to that being a fact of life because any rural town not close to the ocean is going to have that. They’ve been flying like they were when we first moved in which means they’re probably not going to settle down till we’re about ready to move. You don’t get more than two days without them booming by these days!

In Mary’s draft that I got today, she speaks of being molested by her uncle Rick, Carolyn’s husband, and how many others have claimed to have been molested by him as well. Her sick, wimp of a mother wouldn’t believe her when she tried to tell her about it, Carolyn called her a liar, and then Carolyn’s own daughter, who was also molested, wrote Mary saying she was disgusted by her family trying to cover it up. She said Carolyn didn’t want him going to jail because she didn’t want to lose Rick’s army benefits.

So I’m reading this and I’m like, Mary, Mary, Mary. You mean to tell me that this uncle you say you’re still afraid of as a grown woman is the very one you still write to and speak with, along with his wife who protects him? How sad. How utterly sad. Is there ever going to come a day when she has enough self-respect to ask herself how can her aunt stay with him? How can she stand to even look at him? And how can she herself stand to associate with either the aunt, uncle or mother? I really think the best thing she could do when she gets out would be to grab that kid of hers and turn her back on the whole family except for Adam, then start over fresh. And she should stay single if she can’t stay away from the abusers. As I told her, I know for a fact that people like her mom, Jared and Rick never change, and if they do, it’s very short-lived. I truly believe from experience that the more we associate with people like that, the more they’ll just keep bringing us down.

And why isn’t Rick in jail? He belongs there with all the other little pervies, but no, God must protect him. Any mother who believes the word of others over their own child is no mother as far as I’m concerned, and her aunt, being the pervert protector that she seems to be from what I’m reading, is almost as bad as the pervert himself. This is why if I could give her any advice, I’d suggest she take the rest of the time she’s in that place to ask herself – are these the types of people she wants in her life when she gets out? Try to look at them as people, I told her, and put the shared blood aside for a minute. Then ask herself, do I like these people, really like them?

Had my father been a pervert, I’d have gotten the same reaction for telling my mother – rage and disbelief. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, had one of them killed me, the other would still be standing by them today as if it never happened.

Nonetheless, my life may not be perfect, but it sure does get better with age and I think hers will too, as long as she can get off her abusive-people kick. I think one of the biggest keys to being happy, or at least a lot happier, is who we associate with.

Mary’s right when she talks about how all forms of abuse can have such devastating effects. It seems it’s turned her into a frightened individual while it’s made me a very angry one. So much so that I still wish I’d handled Marty differently when he threatened me, and either kicked the shit out of him and shown him that he can’t threaten just anybody, or thrown a mock punch at him to get him to attack me so I could call the pigs and have him arrested, though this was the late 70s or early 80s, and with God as his protector, that’s not how it would’ve worked. The pigs would’ve blamed me for my own attack and told me they couldn’t do anything cuz Marty was “family.” With this fact in mind, he should’ve waited till I was stronger and braver and in my own apartment to make the threat where I’d have been, beyond a doubt, physically capable of making sure the sick fuck never again even so much as dared think to threaten anyone again.

Just like I was right about us not being able to make shit doing surveys, I was right about Memolink kicking us out for point-stealing. Those who clicked 25 points got their points taken away and those who clicked more got their membership terminated. I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t going to let what happened with the freeloaders keep me from speaking my mind when I have something to say, so without the least bit of intimidation, I sent them a message saying that what they did was wrong. It was their mistake and we shouldn’t be the ones to have to pay the consequences for their own screw-up when they’re the ones responsible for their own damn site. They suck, I told them, and I plan to spread the nastiest word I can about them.

Let’s see them have the guts to put that in their testimonials!

See, this is why I wouldn’t seek revenge on the freeloaders even if I knew where the cowards were and had the opportunity to do so. I know God would only lead the pigs right to my door. I can’t get away with the piddliest of things like point-stealing, yet others can beat me, try to rape me, play with my head, rip me off, frame me, etc., and God help me should I try to fight back!

It’s okay, though, cuz I’m just going to sign up as Miss Jodina S as soon as we move and use my old Feisty Dawn address. For now, I’ve signed up with My Points which is identical to Memolink. In fact, they have the same Lucky Surf lotto, which as we’ve discovered, is not exclusive to Memolink. Anyone can play it and they don’t have to join any points program either.

My top favorite fragrances are angel, baby powder, black cherry, black Henry, black magic, black narcissus, booty call, brown sugar, butter rum, bump & grind, butt naked, carnation, cedar, chocolate, cranberry, Choctaws mono, escape, floor, fruit, fast cash, gardenia, grape, honey, honey musk, hot love, jasmine, love supreme, magnolia, majmua, morning mist, Nubian musk, patchouli, pear, puddy cat, pussy, rain barrel, sugar plum, sun moon stars, sweet musk, vanilla musk, watermelon, white diamonds, white linen.

There are still a few more I’d like to sample such as vanilla melon, cherry musk, cherry opium, cherry vanilla, patchouli rose, strawberry musk, and strawberry vanilla.

Later…

As I read on, I found that Mary’s aunt did acknowledge what happened, though it was thirty years too late. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that while it’s easy for me to call her a sick criminal herself for protecting Rick, what if I were in her shoes? What if Tom was guilty or accused of a crime – any crime? Would I turn him in? Absolutely not! So as wrong as she was, a part of me can relate to her.

Still haven’t weighed myself, but I know I’m still dropping. I doubt I’m under 127, though I’m probably right about that weight.

Yesterday was the first day in ages that I was stuck. I was shocked, though not too shocked as I always get stuck when trying to lose weight. I’m not worried about it anymore, though, because now I know that that doesn’t affect weight like I thought it did.

We cut tops off 2-liter soda bottles to air-dry the 200 or so sticks in that we made up to hopefully – hopefully – sell at a swap meet somewhere around here, and boy was our kitchen ever so fragrant! I even started getting a bit of a headache, the aromas were so potent, that I stuffed them in a cabinet. It’s too bad we’re not going to have the space to do that for a few years once we move.

I found out that the monthly giveaways they have at the incense place are for retail customers only.

At first I thought I wouldn’t bother with curtains, valances or any form of window coverings in “Dan’s dive,” as we call it since we’ll be in something similar to what he had. Then I decided to take some of the valances the house came with to use in the dive. It’ll be a sort of souvenir, too. Then, once we build our dream house, I’ll use the lacy valances I prefer.

Another piece of this house I’m taking is a spare scrap of carpet. We’ll use it as a doormat there and I’ll leave the ones that are here where they are.

Tomorrow’s a flight day, so I’m going to try to stay up as long as I can. That way I can also go out this Sunday without feeling too tired.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 2004 Amazingly, both UPS and the Air Force let me sleep today, though I woke up a zillion times for a second just because. Meanwhile, Tom got the water pump installed, and the truck’s running fine.

I just hope we can get out of here before the next thing breaks! It’s been since November, so we’re about due any minute for something else to break. If it could just hold out till after we’re gone, that’d be wonderful because we have so much going on right now.

Although I don’t want to weigh myself till next Sunday, I can tell I’m down to 128-129. In 1-3 days I should hit 127, then comes the critical part and that’s to see if I can keep it going and not jump back up like I always do when I hit down at 127. If something’s wrong, I really do want to know about it. That way I can decide whether or not I want to try to dodge the quackery while I try to get the problem fixed, or just live with it. That is, whenever the hell we’re insured again. My vibes are shifting, now saying he may not be working till after we’re moved, and that yes, we are going up into the mountains, but I don’t know what state.

The further we go, the more Mary and I may have to fly to see each other when she’s out which would mean staying overnight. I don’t know if she’d dig that idea any more than I would, but considering the fact that we spent 9 days and 8 nights locked in a tiny room together, I guess we could handle a night or two at each other’s houses.

Anyway, the appetite suppressants have been worthless and the hunger’s been intense. I realize that no matter what aids I use, at 1200 calories a day I’m going to be hungry anyway. Anyone would be.

This shitting twice a day has got me stumped. I deliberately cut out foods that make you shit more so I wouldn’t go as often, but it seems I couldn’t get irregular if I tried. I don’t know, maybe all the salad or the tea’s doing it. I have more tea in the winter. Besides, it’s something I can put in my stomach without the calories that my coffee creamer has. Even so, I wish my body would quit this shit-happy cycle it’s gotten on. If it’s not going to hurt me to go 4 or 5 days a week and if going every day isn’t going to help with my weight, then why bother? But twice a day? That’s a bit overkill! I’ve been going when I first get up, then again towards the end of my day.

Tom says there’s a virus going around. I guess someone with a grudge against Microsoft put out this thing that sends out tons of emails. There’s a reward being offered, and I jokingly told Tom that it’s too bad we can’t say he did it, turn him, collect the reward, then bust him out of jail!

Memolink is also screwed up big time. We can’t even get into their site. My first thought was that they banned us for point-stealing and right after I legitimately earned a $15 certificate because something doesn’t want me making money and because Tom and Jodi can’t get away with shit, but the more Tom investigated, the more it appears to be a problem on their end.

Not surprisingly, my decorative plates didn’t sell. Of course not. Why should my stuff sell? Tom’s thinking of relisting them now that he knows what to say when describing them which he says he didn’t do the first time around. When I asked him what he meant by that, he said that since people are even dumber than he thought, it’s really all in how you describe your items. For example, one of the people who bought his coins gave him positive feedback saying that the coins were exactly as he described them. Meanwhile, he never did describe them in the first place. You gotta make people feel they’re getting a deal and like they’re taking advantage of you, as he says.

SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 2004 Currently, it appears that the best way to make the incense is going to be to let it soak for a day and to let it dry for a few days. It seems the more we let them dry, the less smoky they are and the more potent the fragrance is.

Today I got the pink fairy in the Fairytopia series, so that’s two down, one to go. I haven’t seen the blue one yet, though I’ve only been to Walmart twice since they came out. They say that blue is most people’s favorite color, so maybe that’s why there haven’t been any blue ones.

Yesterday I had an average of 2000 calories and 20 minutes of working out, so that earned me a jump up to 132. Starting tomorrow, I’ll drop back to 1200 cals and do an hour of exercise. What else can I do? Look at my outstanding talent for gaining weight as a gift from God and just go with it? Try to rack up all the pounds I can and call each one of just another one of life’s many blessings?

Speaking of God, every so often, like maybe once a year or so, I pray to him for help with something I’m stumped on, such as not being able to lose weight for the last couple of years, just in case he decides to listen to me for a change and help me. I know better than to count on it, knowing that I wouldn’t have gotten so big in the first place if he didn’t want me to. Besides, I don’t think he cares what the hell I weigh. Still, I got on my knees, and just like most people cross themselves, I did my little Star of David and asked for the strength to stick to the diet plan, to lose weight and keep it off, and not be given a new problem in exchange should I miraculously lose weight and keep it off for more than 5 minutes.

Tomorrow’s the day the prep work begins. We’re going to start with doing a tape and texture job where the cut bathroom panels are and where the strip is that we popped off to put the mural up. We’ll also fill in big holes. Not tiny holes made by tiny nails, but places where we had screws holding up shelves.

I’ll probably be the other way around this time. The last move was a bitch to prep the old place, yet moving into this house after we were done playing trailer/hotel was easy because there was so much space. This time around, prepping to move should be easy, while moving should be a bitch what with moving into an old dive ¼ the size of this place. I’ll have to remind myself that it’s only temporary every time I get frustrated with the peeling linoleum floors and the years of caked-on dirt, rust, grime and calcium that just won’t go away no matter how hard I scrub. In fact, I better enjoy baths in my big clean garden tub before I have to take them in a tub with soap rings dating back to before the release of Charlie’s Angels!

I erased the penciled outline of the pink ballerina silhouette on the wall by the closet and scrubbed the badly faded pink areas. I made it almost invisible. I’m sure the buyers won’t notice. Besides, this is likely to be a kid’s room, so it won’t matter as much as it would if there were discolorations in the kitchen, den or living room. Then, we’ll do the same skyscape on the wall where Patrice and the playboy’s silhouettes are.

It’s maddening out there right now with the damn dogs. I don’t know if they got into a fight or what, but I do know that Arizonans can’t keep their dogs under control and to themselves worth shit. Especially out here.

Later…

The sun has set, so off goes the dogs. Tom shooed some off the land today, then he just shooed another one barking in front of the house. Maricopa’s dogs are lucky we’re not staying here because I swear I’d shoot them all if we couldn’t get fences!

Our vanilla extract and butter-pecan experiments were a bust. They wouldn’t even light. Now he’s trying to mix cooking oil with mesquite leaves which I’m sure will also be a bust. The uncut butter rum is good, though, and I’m thinking maybe we’ll save a little money, time and work by just doing all uncut sticks.

Got 1 number.

Tom checked out the swap meet which he says was a zoo. He says they were selling major crap and that it wasn’t moving too well because they were asking too much. So, he figures we’ll have an easier time selling our stuff cuz we have nicer crap and we can lower our prices. He’s been researching eBay and finding a lot of crap for sale there too, so we might sell even more stuff that way. I’d prefer to avoid the zoo and do a yard sale here, but then we wouldn’t get as many people other than the neighbors. Next weekend, he wants to bring me to the swap meet to see if I can get any vibes, then we’ll take it from there.

Meanwhile, there’s no reason the water pump shouldn’t be here tomorrow so he can finally get the truck back up and running. The damn thing’s been sitting in Phoenix since Friday afternoon.

I still can’t believe no one’s moved in yet in front, and I also still can’t complain either. I’m hoping we make it out of here before they do arrive.

Tom showed me the basics of our site. I like its layout. He took me to the links to the java games, rat pics, doll pics, desert pics and wildlife pics that I’ve taken. He’s now uploading it as we figured that February 1st was a good time to start. The next step will be taking pictures of the incense. People like to see what they’re buying, so we’ll take pictures, but still keep a little mystery there. If they know they can buy the stuff themselves and make it themselves, they won’t want to get it from us.

Because ours is a free site as opposed to one with a monthly fee, I have to watch what I say. I can say “I got this particular doll at Paradise Galleries,” but I can’t add that I had to fight tooth and nail to get it and that their service sucked so bad that I quit buying from them after a while.

The prepping began today, too. We puttied up the panels in the bathroom. Tomorrow we’ll sand it down, then it’ll be ready to paint.

Our ghost is at it again. I heard footsteps behind me, but when I went to turn around, no one was there.

[best-testing-lab-uae]

Why Regular Diesel Testing is Essential for UAE's Energy Sector | +971 554747210

The UAE's energy sector is a cornerstone of the nation’s economic growth, powering industries, infrastructure, and transportation. Diesel plays a vital role in this sector, fueling everything from power generation to construction equipment and logistics. However, ensuring the efficiency and reliability of diesel requires regular testing by diesel testing lab.

Diesel testing is not just about compliance; it is integral to optimizing performance, reducing costs, and meeting environmental goals. In this blog, we’ll explore why regular diesel testing is essential for the UAE’s energy sector and how it supports operational excellence and sustainability.

The Role of Diesel in the UAE’s Energy Sector

Diesel is a versatile and reliable fuel that powers a significant portion of the UAE’s energy infrastructure. Key uses include:

Power Generation: Diesel generators provide backup power to industrial and residential facilities.

Transportation: Trucks, ships, and heavy vehicles rely on diesel for mobility.

Construction: Diesel fuels machinery such as cranes and bulldozers, essential for large-scale projects.

Oil & Gas Operations: Diesel powers drilling rigs and other equipment in offshore and onshore fields.

Given its widespread use, ensuring the quality and performance of diesel is crucial for maintaining the efficiency of the UAE’s energy sector.

Why Regular Diesel Testing is Crucial

1. Ensuring Fuel Quality

The quality of diesel significantly impacts engine performance, fuel efficiency, and emissions. Contaminated or degraded diesel can lead to:

Clogged Filters and Injectors: Sediments and water in diesel can cause blockages, reducing efficiency.

Increased Wear and Tear: Impurities accelerate engine corrosion and component failure.

Incomplete Combustion: Poor-quality diesel burns inefficiently, resulting in higher fuel consumption and emissions.

Regular testing by diesel labs identifies contaminants and ensures the fuel meets performance standards.

2. Preventing Operational Downtime

For the energy sector, downtime is costly. Whether it’s a power outage due to generator failure or delayed shipments due to vehicle breakdowns, operational disruptions can have significant financial and reputational impacts.

Diesel testing ensures that fuel quality is consistently high, reducing the risk of engine failures and keeping operations running smoothly.

3. Supporting Regulatory Compliance

The UAE has stringent fuel quality and emissions standards to align with international environmental goals. For example:

Low-sulfur diesel is mandated to reduce air pollution.

Compliance with ISO 8217 standards for marine fuels is essential for international shipping operations.

Regular testing ensures that diesel meets these regulations, avoiding penalties and enhancing sustainability.

4. Enhancing Equipment Lifespan

Diesel-powered machinery and vehicles are significant investments. Contaminated fuel can shorten their lifespan by causing:

Internal corrosion.

Excessive wear on components.

Frequent maintenance issues.

Testing diesel regularly protects these assets, extending their operational life and reducing replacement costs.

5. Improving Energy Efficiency

In the energy sector, efficiency translates directly into cost savings and environmental benefits. Clean diesel burns more efficiently, providing:

Higher energy output per liter.

Reduced greenhouse gas emissions.

Lower fuel consumption, saving costs.

Diesel testing ensures that fuel is free from impurities, maximizing energy efficiency.

Common Diesel Contaminants Detected During Testing

1. Water Contamination

Water can enter diesel through condensation during storage or transport, leading to:

Microbial growth.

Rust in fuel tanks.

Reduced combustion efficiency.

2. Microbial Contamination

Bacteria and fungi thrive in water-diesel interfaces, forming sludge that clogs filters and injectors.

3. Sediments and Particulates

Dirt and debris can accumulate during storage or handling, causing wear and tear on engine components.

4. Oxidation Products

Over time, diesel can oxidize, forming acids and gums that reduce fuel quality and harm engines.

5. High Sulfur Levels

Excess sulfur leads to the formation of harmful emissions and deposits in engines.

Regular testing identifies these contaminants, enabling corrective actions to maintain fuel quality.

How Diesel Testing Labs Operate in the UAE

1. Sampling and Analysis

Diesel testing labs collect fuel samples from storage tanks, vehicles, and pipelines. Advanced analytical techniques, such as gas chromatography and spectrometry, are used to evaluate:

Cetane number.

Sulfur content.

Viscosity.

Water content.

Sediment levels.

2. Customized Solutions for Energy Sector Needs

The UAE’s energy sector often requires tailored testing services to meet specific challenges, such as:

Testing for marine-grade diesel (bunkers) in shipping operations.

Fuel stability tests for long-term storage in power plants.

Diesel testing labs provide specialized services to cater to these needs.

3. Reporting and Recommendations

Testing labs provide detailed reports on diesel quality, along with actionable recommendations to:

Optimize storage conditions.

Implement filtration systems.

Improve fuel handling practices.

Benefits of Regular Diesel Testing for UAE’s Energy Sector

1. Operational Reliability

Testing ensures that fuel quality is consistent, preventing unexpected failures and maintaining uninterrupted operations.

2. Cost Savings

High-quality diesel reduces maintenance costs and fuel consumption, offering significant savings for energy companies.

3. Sustainability

By ensuring compliance with low-sulfur and emissions standards, diesel testing supports the UAE’s environmental initiatives.

4. Competitive Advantage

Energy companies that prioritize fuel quality can position themselves as reliable and environmentally responsible partners, enhancing their reputation.

Top Diesel Testing Labs in the UAE

Several labs in the UAE offer world-class diesel testing services, including:

1. Intertek UAE

Specialty: Advanced testing for contaminants and fuel properties.

2. Bureau Veritas UAE

Specialty: Comprehensive testing for marine, industrial, and automotive diesel.

3. METS Laboratories

Specialty: Tailored services for the oil and gas sector, focusing on long-term fuel stability.

4. Eurofins UAE

Specialty: Microbial testing and low-sulfur diesel analysis.

Steps to Implement Regular Diesel Testing

1. Identify Critical Testing Points

Pinpoint key locations where diesel quality is most likely to be compromised, such as storage tanks and delivery pipelines.

2. Partner with a Certified Lab

Choose an ISO 17025-accredited diesel testing lab for accurate and reliable results.

3. Schedule Routine Testing

Establish a testing schedule that aligns with operational demands and regulatory requirements.

4. Act on Recommendations

Implement storage and handling improvements based on lab findings to maintain fuel quality.

Conclusion

Regular diesel testing is not a luxury but a necessity for the UAE’s energy sector. By ensuring fuel quality, testing labs help businesses enhance operational efficiency, reduce costs, and meet environmental goals. Whether you’re in power generation, logistics, or oil and gas, investing in diesel testing labs is a strategic move that delivers long-term benefits.

[dropshipautomation]

Marine and Industrial Applications of Control Valves: A Comprehensive Guide

Control valves are integral components in both marine and industrial systems, ensuring the smooth regulation of liquids, gases, and other materials. These devices play a critical role in maintaining system performance, safety, and operational efficiency. Whether on ships or in power plants, control valves are key to preventing system failures and ensuring smooth operations. In this guide, we’ll explore their importance, common applications, and best practices for maintenance.

What Are Control Valves?

Control valves are mechanical devices designed to regulate the flow of fluids within a system. They control parameters like flow rate, pressure, and temperature in response to control signals from automated systems. Their primary function is to keep processes stable, avoiding damage to equipment, maintaining efficiency, and optimizing performance in various operational settings.

Marine Applications of Control Valves

In marine environments, control valves are vital for the safety, stability, and performance of ships, offshore platforms, and other related systems. Some of their most critical applications include:

Fuel Supply: Control valves regulate fuel flow to engines, ensuring the correct amount is delivered for optimal engine performance, efficiency, and reducing fuel waste.

Ballast Systems: Control valves are essential in managing ballast water, which maintains the stability of ships. They ensure the precise amount of water enters or exits ballast tanks to maintain balance during various loading or unloading operations.

Water Treatment: Marine vessels require reliable water treatment systems to provide potable water for the crew and maintain operational safety. Control valves manage water flow through filtration and purification systems to ensure clean water is available.

HVAC Systems: On board HVAC systems depend on control valves to regulate airflow and temperature, ensuring a comfortable environment for the crew and protecting sensitive cargo. This is vital for operational safety and crew well-being.

Industrial Applications of Control Valves

Control valves also play a critical role across various industrial sectors, including oil and gas, power generation, and chemical processing. Their functions in these sectors include:

Oil & Gas: In oil and gas operations, control valves regulate the flow of crude oil, gas, and associated products through pipelines and refinery units. This ensures that systems remain safe, efficient, and within operational limits.

Power Generation: In power plants, control valves manage the flow of steam and water in boilers and turbines. By maintaining optimal pressure and temperature levels, they ensure efficient energy production and prevent costly system failures.

Chemical Processing: Control valves are critical in chemical processing plants, where they control the flow of chemicals in reactors and mixers. Proper regulation is essential for maintaining product quality, safety, and consistency.

Water Treatment: Industrial water treatment plants rely heavily on control valves to manage processes such as filtration, chemical dosing, and wastewater treatment. Efficient valve control ensures safe, clean water supplies and the proper treatment of waste materials.

Best Practices for Maintenance

Regular maintenance is vital for ensuring the longevity and reliability of control valves in both marine and industrial settings. Here are some best practices for keeping control valves in optimal condition:

Regular Inspections: Periodically check valves for wear and tear, leaks, and any other signs of malfunction.

Calibration: Ensure that control valves are correctly calibrated to respond accurately to control signals.

Lubrication: Proper lubrication reduces friction and wear on valve parts, improving performance and extending service life.

Parts Replacement: Replace worn or damaged parts promptly to prevent system failures or operational inefficiencies.

Conclusion

Control valves are indispensable in both marine and industrial applications, ensuring safe, efficient, and reliable operations. Whether regulating fuel flow on a ship or managing steam pressure in a power plant, they help keep systems running smoothly. For optimal performance, it’s essential to choose the right valve, perform regular maintenance, and address any issues promptly.

At Dropship Automation, we provide the tools and solutions needed to automate key operational processes, ensuring reliability and safety in your systems. Start optimizing your processes today and achieve greater operational efficiency!

[mariacallous]

Polish energy giant Orlen has made windfall profits on oil imported from Russia and refined by its Czech subsidiary, Unipetrol.

A report by a Helsinki-based think tank said that the Czech Republic, Hungary and Slovakia, all landlocked countries which received special EU dispensation to continue with imports of pipelined Russian oil until they could secure alternative sources, have made little effort to wean themselves off supplies via the Druzhba pipeline from Siberia. The profits that Russian companies like Gazprom make on oil are fed back into the Russian war machine. “The Czech Republic has spent more than €7 billion on Russian oil and gas, more than five times more money than it has provided in assistance to Ukraine,” said a report by the Centre for Research on Energy and Clean Air (CREA), an independent, Helsinki-based think tank. The CREA report, published on October 14, put the Czech Republic in the spotlight for its purchases and ignited a controversy. The country’s Ministry of Industry pointed out that the issue is not just a Czech one. The ministry said Polish energy firm Orlen has been making money on oil imported from Russia at prices as low as $36 per barrel, much lower than market rates.

Orlen owns Unipetrol, the largest refinery in the Czech Republic, which was the biggest importer in that country of piped oil over the period covered by the report, stretching from Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 until September 2024. While the Czech government makes money on VAT and duty on the fuel sold, the Polish government, which has a 49.9% stake in Warsaw-listed Orlen, took a share of the company’s high dividends in 2022 and 2023. The Czech Ministry of Industry told the Politico news website that it was making efforts to “cease its dependence on Russian fossil fuels.” The ministry referred to investments in pipelines to the Adriatic coast, from where alternative supplies could be shipped in. However, officials said they "could not interfere with the purchasing decisions of private companies like Orlen Unipetrol." Daniel Obajtek, the chairman of Orlen between 2018 and February 2024, appointed by the previous Law and Justice government, deflected responsibility for Unipetrol’s reliance on Russian supplies. He told news website Onet that during his stewardship of the company, he had repeatedly stressed that investment in the transport infrastructure for oil “depends on the Czech government.” The CREA report found that the EU as a whole was the fifth-largest purchaser of Russian hydrocarbons, with France and Italy making up the top five importers in the bloc along with the Czechs, Hungarians and Slovaks.

[maybeelse]

She doesn't get a chance to understand before it kills her.

A month later, when her latest iteration wakes inside her latest descendant-clone, she's already cursing when she comes out of the nutrient broth. Technician-dolls cringe away from her fury, unpleasantly aware of how it distorts their witchwork hearts.

"—I should have had it that time! What went wrong? Which of you fucking rags lost hold of their wards?" None of them reply, of course. "Give me the damn readouts, useless things, I'll figure this out myself ..."

The path from the resurrection suite to her office is among the longest and least scenic on the ship, deep below stairs, full of all the unsightly necessities that keep lights on and bellies full. Even so, there's still slimy nutrient residue clinging to her by the end of it, slick-drying-to-sticky. Dolls hurry to clean the trail she left behind.

Her office is cleaner than she left it, a fresh pot of tea waiting on the sideboard. Her own custom blend. It's the best she can do out here in the uneasy void, and her best is very good indeed. Each sip coats her throat with hot honey and drenches her tongue in delicate, creamy flowers. By the end of her third cup it becomes clear that her failure has no easy culprit.

The mass of potential her ship is anchored to, the scar on the void, simply popped her existence like an unwanted pimple. Possibly this was in response to something she did—she's missing the final thirty seconds of telemetry and memory—but if so it would mean that her last iteration went off script. There's no trace of anything else.

She groans in frustration.

As if in response, there is a knock at the door. Tentative, uneasy. No wonder; her foul mood is palpable. "M-mistress?"

"Come in."

The door's hinges don't creak. They used to, in the old house she plucked it from, but somehow that was lost in transition. Perhaps in her absence the dolls have grown over-eager to oil them.

The face that peeks through is one she knows well; after all, she is responsible for most of its more distinctive features. The delicate scarification around its seven eyes, two sets of three packed close together and the last above, splitting its forehead into two smooth panels; the seams where she taught its lips to part further than it ever thought they could. And, most satisfyingly of all, the involuntary flush that creeps into its cheeks when it sees her. Her secretary.

Its body is no less pleasing to her, even hidden under space-ready overalls and behind a large manila folder. Her eyes linger; her crotch twitches. It takes her a moment to focus on what her secretary is saying—her new body's hormone balance must be off. Something to look into.

"... lost one substrate tank to a micrometeorite strike while You were away, but otherwise resource consumption was minimal. Hydroponic and solar arrays are both running at full efficiency, so that's good. The bad news is the ram-scoop malfunction, which this one already mentioned, and contamination in the soul-farm. Not urgent, but attrition will be a problem until it's fixed. Other than that," it trails off, "there's ... miss ...?"

It drifted closer to her desk while it was talking, its many-branched legs twitching almost involuntarily. It always moves like this: incidental, distracted, torso held perfectly steady. In low gravity, its hair slowly drifting around it, the effect is mesmerizing. Heat runs through her body, hundreds of strings plucked and vibrating, converging, focusing. The choice to stand is not wholly her own.

She prefers to be taller than her secretary, though not by much. Standing, its eyes are level with her collarbones; kneeling, its complex legs partially folded under it, it looks up at her from waist-height. She admires its eyes, lidded and dilated; its choice to kneel owes more to rigorous conditioning than conscious thought.

"... miss?"

She steps towards it, the flush in its cheeks deepening as her body's heat and scent envelop it—the chemical-sweet nutrient broth, the milky-sour undertones of fresh-grown flesh, her own tangy musk slowly building as her body makes its needs known. Her secretary's lips part.

"Good. Now, keep your mouth open for me ..."

She takes full advantage of how wide its mouth opens.

Later—much later—she's scrubbing her resurrection's last vestiges out of her hair, massaging the shampoo into her scalp with the same precision she'll soon apply to building a new exploration-craft. Putting her new hands through their motions. Her secretary lies on the tile floor, its body leaking, swollen, and utterly insensate.

This is her fourth attempt to get clean. It's entirely her own fault that her secretary looks so delicious every time it stirs back to life, just as it's entirely her own fault that they have had an intermittent audience of off-duty technician-dolls: when she designed her ship she didn't think to give herself a private bath suite, and the dolls weren't grown with enough sense to give their mistress her privacy.

Probably that's going to cause cultural problems down the line, if she doesn't remember to do something about it.

Another technician-doll freezes in the entrance to the baths, its soft curves already half-freed from its shapelessly utilitarian uniform. Its eyes flicker between her and her secretary; she can feel the way its gaze travels down her body, snapping to her breasts, the curve of her stomach, and her crotch, flushed and oversensitive and demanding no matter how hard she tries to calm it.

The doll's nose twitches; its cheeks flush; and she yells "get out, idiot!" at it just before it's too late. Her entire body twitches with predatory need as she watches it flee; an utterly inappropriate way to feel about a thing that is already hers, that exists only to serve her purposes, that would happily let her break it apart—and why shouldn't she? She vibrates with need, her body taking a single step before she swings back towards her secretary, so perfectly shaped to her desires—

She is starting to think that something went seriously, fundamentally wrong with her resurrection.

She's going to have to figure out how to fix it, soon.

But maybe not yet. Not with her secretary's body right there. She can afford to wear herself out first, just as a precaution. It's fine. And, as she picks up her secretary's limp body, she's careful not to acknowledge that she's not sure if she can stop herself.