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albatmobile · 1 year ago

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The Art of Rehabilitating Snowbirds Chapter 25

𓅪 After not hearing from Roy or Jason for five years, you suddenly find yourself taking in extra income as a babysitter for Roy and Jason's child.

𓅪 Rated: E | TW: graphic violence, blood | 14k includes: motorcycle smut, squirting, public sex, boss battle

fem!Reader x Jason Todd x Roy Harper [masterlist]

Chapter 25: Born to Die | ao3 - wattpad

It’s pitch black when you slip from the manor and into the quiet of the inky, starless night.

Jason and Roy had long elected to go to sleep in favor of researching and, after hours upon hours of hunting for clues the past couple of days, you nearly joined them.

But even though your body aches with tiredness, you know sleep will only elude you. Especially when you’re this close to the end.

Your parents told you to go to Gotham Bay and, for once in your life, you follow their instructions.

Gotham Bay smells like fish and literal ass as you choke on the thick air surrounding the harbor. Your shoes squelch against the muck that liters the slick pavement, urging you to reconsider your choice, but you refuse.

Up ahead, you see the final marker and turn the corner. “There you are,” you gasp at the voice, feeling your blood run cold.

Yes, you’d come here to face the bad guys. That being said, you hadn’t really considered what you’d do when they ultimately came to collect.

“What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?” Jason’s familiar voice berates you from behind. “Walking into a trap like some sort of suicidal maniac doesn’t really seem like your forte, babe.”

You sigh in relief when you turn and see your two dopey white knights.

With the original panic gone, the sadness starts to set in.

You’re not dumb. You know the end is in sight, but you don’t see a way out of this. At the end of the day, the only way to truly end this is to give your parents what they want by turning yourself in.

“I,” you pout, trailing off when you realize that your reasoning isn’t as sound as you’d previously thought. Especially not now that you’re actually saying it out loud. Nonetheless, you continue. “I don’t want anyone else to have to get hurt because of me.”

Jason kicks lightly at the ground, seemingly leaving it up to Roy to talk you down.

“Well, too bad,” Roy replies. He easily steers you right back the way you came. You sigh, letting him guide you to Jason’s motorcycle that’s been hidden in a nearby alley. “We definitely would’ve been more than hurt if anything happened to you, princess,” he says as he gently rubs your back. “Lian included.”

You turn to look at him, but he’s just focused on getting you settled on the bike. He climbs on behind you, nudging Jason to lift you up onto his lap. Jason lifts you with ease as he deposits you onto Roy’s jean-covered lap.

Your stomach flips.

Jason glances back at you before mounting the bike with your body sliding forward against his broad back once he’s fully seated. You gulp, unable to keep your raging blush at bay as the engine revs to life.

Jason takes off down the street. His speed leaves you clinging desperately to him and you can’t help but scream as the bike reaches a scary speed that even Dick would have to give him a ticket for, relatives or not.

They both help you slip off the bike and quietly lead you back to Jason’s old room. Halfway up the stairs, you’re met with a sleepy-looking Titus. You give him a good scratch behind the ears as you pass.

“What were you thinking?” Jason asks angrily as he paces around his old room. “Even if you had just turned yourself in, it wouldn’t have solved anything.” His emerald eyes glare down at you like he can’t believe you would pull something so reckless. “Hell, all it would’ve done is give them the ability to move forward with their plan,” he says, crossing his muscular, scarred arms in subtle irritation. “Are you trying to get yourself killed or something?”

Roy places a gentle hand on his shoulder as he slumps on the edge of his queen-sized mattress beside you.

The last time you’d been in here had been a few months following the Joker accident. You know Jason’s upset with you, Roy too, but you can’t help but look around the room.

Nothing much has changed aside from a few new books on the shelves and new, bigger clothing. The stain on the carpet from Jason’s spilled whiskey is noticeably absent, though, undoubtedly thanks to Alfred.

“What Jason’s trying to ask is, are you feeling alright?” Roy looks genuinely concerned and you don’t want either of them getting the wrong idea.

“I’m not fucking suicidal,” you sigh, shaking your head. “They offered me an out. They said no one had to get hurt.”

“Just you, then,” Jason sounds disgusted. “You’re no fucking martyr,” he hisses your name out like a curse, banging his hand on his desk as he does so. Every object on the wooden surface jumps and scatters as he does so, causing you to inadvertently startle. “You’re…” Jason trails off. “What you mean to us…”

“Yeah?” you ask, suddenly filling with hope. Your eyes widen as you wonder whether or not he’ll actually come out and say it. Hoping he’ll come out and say it.

However, Jason’s eyes flash with remorse. You feel your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach as he makes to leave the room.

You won’t allow it.

“Jason, please,” you beg. He stops, so you continue, “I just thought I was doing what was right after I did you both so wrong.”

“We already talked it over, remember? We’re all good,” Jason gently chides you, placing steadying hands on your shoulders. “Stop holding that against yourself.” He looks deeply into your eyes to further cement his point. It’s like he’s waiting for a response because once you nod, he releases his firm grip. “It’s just…” Jason trails off unsurely.

“We can't lose you, princess,” Roy starts.

Jason shakes his head, finishing Roy’s statement easily, “Not when we just got you back.”

Back?

You’re the only one who’s been here the whole time, waiting.

“I never left.”

They gulp, looking at each other before descending upon you with fervor only five years of separation could cause.

You don’t label it and neither do they.

You decide to go along with what feels right and, holy fuck, does this feel right.

Standing on the precipice of battle, they hold you together, if only for tonight.

“Princess,” Roy sounds barely restrained as he eyes you up your nearly naked form with barely withheld restraint, “I need you.” It’s rushed as it falls from his mouth.

You aren’t used to being needed and aren’t surprised when a rush of arousal surges all the way down to your clit.

This time, the sex is slow and deliberate as they get to know each and every inch of your body intimately. They make you come undone in ways you never could’ve imagined, trapping you between their muscular bodies as they slowly fuck into your aching cunt.

After they’re done milking your first orgasm out of you, they both take turns watching as the other one forces another one out of you.

Roy lets you take control, pulling at his red locks and fucking into him ruthlessly amazon-style until he begs for you to allow him to come.

“Please, baby,” Roy whimpers your name soon after as he ruts against your brutal pace. “Please, you gotta let me come. Please,” he says with a shake of his head. His fiery eyebrows are furrowed together like he knows he won’t last another second.

Cute.

Jason’s grip around his leaking cock tightens. You take the hint as you slow your pace with a cruel smirk.

“No.”

“Fuck!” Roy’s voice cracks in his throat as he arches off the mattress to pound into you, nearly sending you off balance as he does. Jason quickly comes to wrap his calloused fingers around Roy’s thick cock before he can come.

You bite your bottom lip, loving how Jason’s rough hand brushes against all the right spots. You glance up at his darkening emerald eyes while you grind against the delicious friction it offers.

“You fucking yourself against my hand, babe?” Jason’s voice sinfully coats around your name as he questions you. You absentmindedly draw closer to him in response until your wide eyes are staring down his predatory ones, “Answer me.”

You nod with owlish eyes, feeling the heat of a nasty blush smack across your cheeks.

“That’s good,” Jason praises you, looking as if he’s ready to devour you right then and there, but instead, he lets Roy have his fun with you.

He removes his hand, causing Roy to release a shaky groan as he does.

You don’t realize you’re pouting at the loss of contact with Jason’s sexy-ass hand until Roy smacks you on the ass. “Try not to look so disappointed, princess,” he winks up at you, panting slightly as he does. “’Specially not when my dick’s inside you, gorgeous.”

He deliberately places gentle pressure on your pubic bone as he shallowly thrusts inside you. You refuse to settle back onto your knees to give him the angle he’s really craving.

No, not yet.

You grab a handful of his hair and use your grip to tug his face right in front of yours. His verdant eyes roll back in his head with an obscene moan you’ve ever heard. With how loud it had been, you’re pretty sure it’s the most obscene moan anyone at the manor’s ever heard; no, this entire block’s ever heard.

“Fucking, slut,” Jason grits around his teeth. He mashes against Roy’s chapped lips, tearing into them as you increase your pace again.

Your hips stutter when his girthy length smashes directly into your g-spot. “Roy!” you salaciously clench down around him, forcing his cock against your inner wall again until you’re seeing stars. You’re babbling now, completely lost in the throws of this overwhelming feeling of arousal. “I need you to come inside me, please, Roy,” you beg him, throwing your head back with a wrecked moan.

Roy babbles back, easily just as clouded in lust as you are, “I wanna give you all my come, baby. So good; you fuck me so fucking good, baby- so good, I wanna- fuck!”

“Oh, damn,” Jason’s voice rumbles against the wet pants and moans that bounce around his childhood bedroom’s walls.

Jason joins the two of you on the small mattress again as Roy’s come leaks out of your sore slit and onto your folds. Jason then positions himself behind your to slurp it up and lap at your over-sensitive clit that jumps every time he plays with it. He spreads your ass as far apart as it’ll go before pressing a bruising grip into your soft globes.

“I’m so fucking spent,” you groan, face-planting into the mattress right next to Roy’s still half-delirious state. “I’m so fucking sore.”

“I’ll tell you when I’m done with you.”

You don’t even have time to settle into the mattress before Jason’s flipping you around again.

Roy seems to brighten up at Jason’s dark tone that drips with sex. He slinks beside you to whisper the dirtiest things into your ear. Meanwhile, Jason smacks his cock against your twitching cunt with a wicked glint flashing across his eyes as he stares down at the two of you.

Roy’s soft, freckled fingers trickle from your lower abdomen to circle around your painfully erect nipples. He briefly squeezes one before enveloping the other with a salacious twist of his tongue.

They skillfully work in tandem to draw everything they can out of you. All of the moans, all the hushed curses, all the squelching noises from your pussy.

Jason takes in your lucid, fucked-out form with a wolfish grin.

Roy’s hand lightly caresses your throat, as if testing the waters. When you give no complaint, he slowly strengthens his grip until you’re withering around on the mattress for more.

“You want me to talk to you like the whore I know you are, baby?” he nods sweetly at you, though you can easily see the lust-ridden heat that lies behind it. “Tell you how Jason should punish you with his huge dick while I spank the rest of the badness out of you?” you gasp. “Would that make you come, baby?”

You’re a wreck.

All you can manage is a tear-filled nod as Jason continues to tease your entrance.

You don’t even know if you’ll be able to come any more than you already have, but Jason seems convinced as he draws every breathy whimper, every choked beg out of your body.

“Want me to spread her for you, Jay?” He doesn’t even wait for confirmation, knowing it’s exactly what he wants.

He situates himself behind you with his sticky, flaccid dick pressed against your lower back as he bares your come-filled hole for Jason to ravage.

You’re so fucked.

Literally.

You don’t even feel like you’re on the Earthly plane by the time they’re finally finished with you.

•••

The next day, you help Jason and Alfred with breakfast while the rest of the family lingers about in the kitchen and dining room, chatting amicably.

You’re completely sore after your body had been so wonderfully used last night. You can’t help but walk with a slight limp. Personally, you don’t think it’s noticeable at all, but in a room filled with the world’s greatest detectives, it’s obvious as day.

They shoot each other knowing glances, but Dick has the gull to openly stare in what you can only discern as disbelief.

Steph and Babs though, they’re content to wear shit-eating grins on their faces any time Jason or Roy so much as look at you.

You don’t realize making pancakes can be so messy until Roy’s smearing batter down your nose. Jason retaliates in your honor, splatting a spoonful into his fiery waves and drawing a disbelieving gasp from Roy.

From here, Dick leaps gracefully over the counter to grab the other bowl of batter straight from Alfred’s gloved hands. He grabs a fist full of the batter and wastes no time in catapulting it directly at Jason’s face. This, coincidentally, also smacks into the side of your cheek and even manages to splash Tim, Connor and Stephanie, who stand just a few beats behind the three of you.

It’s an all-out war with screams and giggles ringing out in the kitchen as the Bat Family attacks their own with any and every food-related item they come into contact with.

“FOOD FIGHT!” Roy screams, holding two cans of whipped cream like they’re automatic rifles as he sprays them across the chaos unfolding in the room.

Dick and Barbara quickly team up to knock him off the counter while Stephanie attempts to throw strawberries at you through your human shield, Jason.

Bruce and Alfred can’t help but smile. Regardless of the mess, it’s good to see all of you acting like the kids you are.

Connor somehow nearly breaks the refrigerator by falling into it after slipping on a banana peel that Stephanie had left on the ground thinking no one would fall for it, yet…

The dent he leaves on the stainless steel fridge from his body alone is enough for Bruce to call it all off.

After you all clean up the pancake remains, seriously, how did all the batter end up on the ceiling (???), you pack your things and meet everyone out front. That is, after changing.

You only really have one nice outfit, a skin-tight, thick-cotton, white v-neck and a plaid skirt. You elect to go commando as you skip down the driveway to where everyone’s gathered around, with Stephanie, Tim and Connor still in their pancake-covered PJs.

“And you’re sure it’s all fixed?” you catch the tail-end of Damian’s question to Bruce.

“They had your window fixed two days ago. The caulk needed to be set for a day or so for it to be completely secure again, though.”

Lian gasps when Alfred pulls around in the limo, stepping out to open the trunk for Jason and Roy to load all of your things. “Can I go in the long car?” Lian makes puppy-dog eyes up at her dad. “Can I, please?”

“‘Course, darlin’,” Roy ruffles her inky hair, helping her buckle into the back seat as she excitedly squirms around in the seat. “We’ll be following behind you on daddy’s motorcycle, okay?” she nods and obediently lets Roy finish securing her in her Superman car seat.

Damian and Jon hop in the seat facing opposite hers, still picking pancake batter out of each other’s hair with playful smiles.

Alfred gets in the limo and drives off. Soon after, he shuts the door and bids the rest of the Bat Family goodbye. Meanwhile, the three of you hop onto Jason’s motorcycle and speed off to catch up.

“Just like old times,” Roy winks and you just shake your head as his hands move to caress your thick thighs. It doesn’t take long for him to realize you’re not wearing anything underneath. You’re practically sitting in his lap, so you know he’s noticed when his dick twitches against your bare ass. “And here I was thinking you were still holding out on us, princess,” he mutters against your ear. Roy’s fingers stealthily slip between your slick folds, barely rubbing your clit as he releases a low chuckle, “Fucking whore.”

You arch against him, feeling your adrenaline spike as Jason revs his engine and speeds up on the back streets.

“Please,” you groan, grinding down into the redhead’s erection.

Jason seems to be picking up on what’s going on because he makes a sharp right turn, forcing you to cling tighter around his muscular abdomen.

The vibrations alone last time had been enough to make your eyes cross in pleasure, but this time was different. This time, they were both touching you, tormenting you in the best ways possible.

Roy’s deliberate flicks against your still-aching clit leave your eyes twitching. He holds you steady as your body seizes, preparing for the most insane orgasm of your life- in public, nonetheless.

“You’re gonna come for me and Jay right here.” Your breathing hitches in your throat in response, making it hard to swallow. “All of these people are gonna see what a slut you are, baby.” Roy’s words tickle against the shell of your ear, sounding even above the roar of Jason’s V8. “All for us.”

“Roy,” you warn shakily.

“Scream his name, princess.”

You hastily remove his helmet to reveal the satisfied smirk that lies underneath and he easily does the same for you, wanting to take in all of your little tells.

Your orgasm couldn’t have come at a worse time.

Jason finishes exiting the side street, coming to a stop at a red light when you’re overcome with a familiar, icy pleasure as it blooms across your aching cunt.

“JASON!” At your cry, he revs the engine again, causing you to double forward against him as Roy continues to rub your abused, sensitive nub.

With your head thrown back against Roy’s shoulder, liquid erupts all across the back of Jason’s leather jacket. All the while, the dude and his friend in the pickup truck beside you stare with their mouths wide open in disbelief.

Jason whips off his helmet, nodding his head their way as if to say, ‘sup.’

You’re panting, pushing Roy’s hand out of your skirt, feeling completely satiated. “What the fuck was that?”

“Pretty sure you just squirted all over our Jay.”

Squirt?

You shook your head languidly in your after haze. “What, like piss?”

“I’m not 100% sure,” Roy rubs at the outside of your thigh with a smirk, “but even if it is, feel free to do it all over my face sometime, princess.”

“Seconded,” Jason says.

His slitted eyes trail up your trembling form like he’s considering fucking you right here and now. He feels behind himself, dragging his rough fingers through the wetness you’ve left on his back and the seat.

He stares at the dripping slick curiously before forcing his fingers down Roy’s willing throat. He swallows your come all while staring at you through his strawberry-lashed, half-lidded eyes.

A deep voice stirs you all from your lust-filled haze.

“I need to get me a motorcycle, bro.”

His friend nods dumbly in agreement.

You all put on your helmets back on just as the light blinks green, speeding off before the men in the pickup can pick their jaws up off the floor. You nearly come again, feeling the flipping feeling tickling stir below, but Roy purposefully keeps his fingers just out of reach for you to get any relief.

Fucking dick.

You’ll definitely make him pay later.

•••

Regardless of what happened on the motorcycle hours earlier, they’re gentle with every part of you as you prepare for the final battle.

You’re lying in front of the fireplace of Damian’s living room, with Jason stoking the fire as Roy cleans and redresses your wound.

“’S looking a lot better, princess,” the redhead says, patting lightly at your side as he peppers your face and body with gentle kisses.

His intimate gestures draw a quiet smile on your face. You’ve never felt so happy in your entire life and, yet, you feel like you can’t even bask in it until you finally come face to face with your parents.

You arch into his hold, snuggling against his chest as his lithe fingers begin to play with your hair.

Gentle music warbles from the gramophone Damian has playing in the kitchen as he and Jon talk in hushed whispers.

Your eyes lazily trail back to meet Roy’s tired eyes. You’re honestly surprised he isn’t trying to take it any further with his lavishing touch, especially after last night. Though, it’s probably for the best, considering the lingering company in the adjacent kitchen.

Roy slowly blinks back at you, his eyes lightly crinkling as he does, as if he’s the one who can’t believe he has you.

Lian had been put to bed hours before, though it looks like she might be sleeping alone tonight as Jason removes his shirt before cuddling around the two of you with a heavy blanket. Earlier, Roy had brought out a pile of pillows from the bed to prop you up on. Now, you use the pillows to create a sleepy little nest for your fam-… for the three of you.

Laying down with the two of them wrapped up in this fluffy bundle on the floor, they slowly begin to mouth at either side of your neck. You wriggle contentedly between them, returning chaste kisses of your own scattered along their chiseled jawlines.

The music slowly ebbs as the needle catches. It slowly slips from the disc, leaving you with only the crackling roars of the fire in front of you.

Jason caresses your face before languidly drawing it to his lips for a slow, toe-curling good night kiss that Roy attempts to top as soon as Jason’s lips leave yours.

You drift off somewhere in between the light tickles of their gentle lips against your warm skin.

•••

The logs on the fire come crashing down as they die out some odd hours later.

You wipe blearily at your eyes, glancing at the clock in Damian’s kitchen to see that it’s nearly three in the morning.

Jason and Roy still seem to be dead asleep, even as you wriggle out of their overwhelming heat.

The hum of the refrigerator is all that greets you as you pad around the penthouse. You’re looking for something… Something you know was dumped on the living room floor but obviously isn’t there anymore.

“Oh!” you accidentally exclaim out loud when you find what you’d been looking for a few minutes later in Damian’s office.

You look around the room suspiciously as if booby traps are going to pop out of nowhere and alert everyone to what you’re doing, but it doesn’t happen. You snatch your laptop from atop one of his filing cabinets before scurrying back to the living room. Roy’s curled around Jason’s midsection, with drool leaking onto his abs. You roll your eyes at the sight, opening the corrupted laptop.

After the last time, there’s now a giant crack stretched across the screen, crackling across the glass like lightning. The display flickers between a blinking blue error, colorful popcorn static and, strangely enough, the password box.

Your fingers hesitate as the password box flickers back onto the screen before typing, "tonight."

You shut the laptop again, making quick work to remove the hard drive before throwing it into the last raging flame that remained. You silently placed the laptop exactly where it had been before getting dressed for what’s to come.

•••

This time, Gotham Bay isn’t so daunting when you approach.

You know this area has to be under high surveillance for them even to suggest you come back to the same location as the previous night.

So, here you are. Waiting.

The cold, misty wind bites at your exposed ankles while you peer around for any signs of movement. You’re completely alone with only the squeals of Gotham’s signature cat-sized rats pattering about in the shadows to keep you company.

Your weather app said it’s supposed to rain at some point and, although the sky is its usual murky fog, the moon still shines brightly.

After wandering around the lot for a bit, you come to your final location: a dead end of warehouse buildings on one of Gotham’s loading docks.

The hairs on your arms stir awake, prickling your sensitive skin as they become erect.

The familiar weight of eyes has been on you the entire time, but now it feels entirely different.

There’s shuffling from behind you, then in front of you.

Your arms come out to steady yourself as you back into the one area you haven’t heard anything from, but it’s a mistake.

You gasp as cold fingers grip your forearms with a bruising hold.

“I can’t believe the broad actually came here alone!” the Joker’s familiar laugh trembles against your ears in disbelief. “No, seriously.” His face falls into a frightening deadpan glare as he makes his way in front of you. All around him, hundreds of henchmen swarm into the dockyard. “I don’t believe you.”

His wretched voice slithers through your veins, wrapping around your beating heart like an unforgiving cobra. He watches your every minute reaction for any telling signs, but you offer him the truth. After all, it’d be fruitless to lie to him.

“I was just listening to my family,” you say with a shake of your head, wondering if you’ve made a mistake; no, wondering if you’ve misplaced your loyalty. You’ve already made your bed, though, so now you’ll have to lie in it.

The situation becomes all too familiar as Joker’s men swarm in to restrain your squirming form. Beefy arms tug and squeeze at every limb as if they’re trying to rip them off straight out of your sockets. You can’t help the grunts and protests you spout all the while, but Joker remains eerily quiet as he takes in the scene in front of him.

It’s as if he’s testing that you’re really alone- like he still doesn’t believe you.

His green hair bobs finally as he surveys the area once more before nodding with an impressed face. “Guess the girl really isn’t too bright,” he snorts cruelly. “Maybe that’s why mommy and daddy want you gone.” His creepy smile catches your breath in your throat. “You truly are just a worthless disappointment now, aren’t you?” he giggles. “An orphan with parents! Who’d’ve thought of that contradiction?”

“I want to believe they’re my actual family,” you say.

“Them?” The Joker actually laughs, no theatrics, just laughs at your stupidity as he hitches a thumb over his shoulder at nothing. “And how does that seem like it’s going?” he asks in amusement and comes around to tickle his fingertips lightly across your cheek. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, but first,” he skips around his henchmen, clapping frantically in their faces all the while, “how about a little family reunion? Let’s give ‘em a hand, folks!”

His cackles are genuine as your parents emerge from the shadows. Their faces are smug as they take in your overpowered position.

“Mom,” you look at her with pleading eyes, begging her not to do this, “Dad, please.”

They disregard you easily, shaking their heads as they do, “This is how it was always going to end. We’ll get what we’re owed.” Your mother’s wearing a full-length ball gown she undoubtedly stole. Her expensive heels click against the ground as she cooly addresses you, “You won’t ruin this for us. You hear me?”

She’s using her ‘don’t fuck with me’ tone and you are more than happy to oblige. Though you’re not used to being reprimanded by them, it doesn’t mean it’s never happened. You know exactly what kind of response she’s looking for.

You automatically agree, “Yes.”

You flinch backward into the men when she makes to slap you but stops just before the contact and, instead, caresses your face with her soft touch.

“Good,” she says. You slink back at her familiar hostility and eye her cautiously as she continues to linger. “Do not forget blood is thicker than water.” You could scoff if you weren’t actually so terrified of your mother. Words jam in your throat, suffocating you all the while. “And do not mistake,” she glares at you as she releases your face with a jolt of her hand, “that for the lasting good of our family name, your blood will spill.”

“Mom,” you whisper, eyes staring after her retreating form in hopes that some semblance of sense will befall her, but it’s in vain. “Please, help me,” you beg. “Don’t make me do this, please,” you continue to plead, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Do what, exactly? Seems like you’re pretty tied up at the moment!” Joker pops right in front of your face with a wicked smile that has you startling backward into your captors. “Perhaps another introduction is in order,” Joker teases. “I think it’s time you met my other half,” his voice drips with amused malice. All the while, his manic eyes refusing to leave your pained ones. “Oh, Two Face!” Joker sing-songs off to the right of you.

The shuffling of men and their sniffles in the cold is all you can hear for the longest time, then scuffled steps.

There’s no way you’re actually going to meet Two Face, right?

Right?

A twinkling metal sound reverberates as the aforementioned man strolls forward, followed by crowds of men.

Shit.

Two Face’s normal side is bathed in the moonlight first. You squint to get a better look right as his wicked side emerges from the shadows into full visibility. You can’t help but gasp.

The comic books could never do his veneer justice.

His hand is nonchalantly tucked into the white side of his suit while the scarred hand flips a hefty coin over and over again.

Two Face’s daunting voice grumbles out your name with half a smirk adorning his grotesque face, “I’m sure by now you’re in on our little agreement, right?” The coin continues to glisten as it’s thrown into the night air with practiced motions. “How mommy and daddy sold you out when you were born?” You shake your head ‘no.’ “Oh, you’re not in on it?”

You spit at him, “Fuck you.”

“Newsflash, brat,” he snaps with a wretched venom as he grabs your face. Your eyes are wide with fear as he shakes your face, seeming to switch between ire and calm sporadically. “The only thing you’ve been good for is your social security number. You’re worthless. They’ve had this organization created with the financial backing of this loon while you were still in mommy’s stomach.” You were truly born to die by the very people who’d brought you into this world. You shake your head as tears form, refusing to believe it but knowing it’s true. “Cry all you want,” he taunts, “but you’ll be dead before the hour’s up.”

He motions for you to see the time on his silver Rolex.

2:39 AM.

Joker snickers while the two of them circle around you like vultures closing in on roadkill.

You’re completely vulnerable in this moment.

“Go on!” Joker hypes Two Face up, “Tell the poor little thing,” he tugs at your cheek as if you’re a baby, “how she’s going to save Gotham!” He jumps up excitedly and, if you weren’t sure he was unstable before, you do now. Every movement is jerky and completely erratic, never flowing into each other so much as clashing in a grandeur fashion.

Your dad sighs, rubbing irritably at the space between his eyebrows, “Our organization was built with the backing of Gothamite’s with a vision for a Gotham. A Gotham with the right rich people, which, of course, means taking money away from those who don’t deserve it. Worthy Gotham families would funnel money into our insurance scheme and funded, well-”

“Our research,” Two Face supplies. He stops pacing and his mangled side faces you. “With plans as grand as this, enemies of our organization would need to be dealt with swiftly and justly. A culling of Gotham’s wealthiest, so to speak. Thus, you came into play again.”

“Oh, oh!” Joker raises his hand up and down enthusiastically like he’s answering a question in class. “Me next!”

“Why do I put up with this clown?” Two Face groans, turning to his main henchmen for an answer he’ll never find.

His yellow teeth are on full display as he gets in your face again. “You, my dear, are the only reason your parents were even included in the deal,” he informs you, sickening eyes searching for any emotions on your face, but now you’re more focused on the missing pieces. “Only under the stipulations that, A.,” he holds up a finger in front of your left eye, “the organization would kill you when it came time to collect our spoils and, B.” Another pale finger, this time in front of your right eye. “That you’d be the test subject for our eventual enemies' medicine.” He nods with sinister delight as horror settles across your face. “That’s right. You’ve been a dead girl walking since birth,” he’s up in your face, practically spitting vile through his now gritted teeth. “A pawn.”

Joker looks over his shoulder and nods for someone to come forward.

From the crowd, a skinny man with Joker face paint walks forward with a bulky briefcase and hands it to Joker with his head bowed.

“For our vision,” the man says.

Joker takes him in with a disgusted look and brings down a fist at the base of the man’s neck. You can’t help but gasp in alarm as the man seems to go from standing to crumbling to the floor before you can even manage to blink.

“Don’t worry!” Joker pouts with faux concern as he punt-kicks the crumpled man in his side, causing him to roll over at the sheer force with a resounding crack. “He’s just on break! You get it?” he erupts into a fit of laughter, eyes remaining insanely open all the while.

He wiggles his fingers greedily like he’s dipping them into some deplorable cookie jar. The case clicks open, causing you to flinch and tightly squeeze your eyes together.

You stare at the glowing green tubes embedded in the case in front of you.

You glare as you turn to your parents, wondering if they even cared you were about to die, but they’re facing the Joker.

They were the ones who originally created the account and scheme itself, and, hell, they were even the ones to get you to show up here, yet they seem to have forfeited control to the Joker. The way their eyes constantly flick to him and how they verbally defer to him on what to do next, how can they not see they’re the henchmen in their own plot?

They’re the real pawns.

And you? You’re just stuck in the damn crossfire.

“Why two?”

“Easy.” Two Face’s bald eyeball scours around in its socket as he eyes your chest up. “I like a nice, even two,” he offers.

Gross.

Since they seem content to spill all this information, you wonder if you can get them to divulge even more. You continue your questioning, “What does it do?”

You’ve been injected before, yes, but you’re after anything that can get you one step ahead of them.

“Oh, say no more!” Joker traverses around Two Face gleefully, cutting him off in the process. The split man appears entirely done with his business partner now as if he’s seconds away from capping the clown. “We wouldn’t want to spoil the fun, now, would we?” Joker asks, his voice turns menacing as he peaks around the black side of Two Face’s suit.

“Tell you what,” Two Face’s haughty proposition seems only to be coming from the smirking side of his mouth. “Heads we inject you, tails we forget about the whole thing.”

You raise a dubious brow at his blatant lie. These fuckers don’t know how many comic pages you’ve poured over since middle school. You’re already familiar with their little schticks and a motherfucker like Two Face isn’t about to fuck you over.

“Heads, I go free,” you say with a nod his way, calling him out on his bullshit.

His mouth hitches, squeezing out a growl from the rotted corner, “I’ve already made my deal. Accept it or get injected anyway, brat.”

“Well,” you roll your eyes, “that’s not exactly fair.”

He sneers as he rapidly advances on you. “YOU THINK I GIVE A DAMN ABOUT FAIR? YOU THINK LIFE IS FAIR? LOOK AT ME. DOES THIS LOOK FAIR?” he pants rabidly with an animalistic look in his already wild eyes. After a brief moment, he clears his throat, schooling his face as he wipes at imaginary dust on his color-blocked suit. Two Face seems entirely entranced as he flips his coin, holding his hand over it to prevent the result from being revealed. His voice is contrastingly calm and collected when he addresses you again, “How does it feel knowing your family doesn’t care about you?”

Your parents may know you have Red Hood and Arsenal on your side, but they definitely don’t know you have the entire Bat Family, too. Though they remain concealed, every member of the Wayne family stands at the ready on the surrounding warehouse rooftops to take down this horde of goons.

You smirk when you hear Batman give the ‘stand-by’ over the comms system.

“I wouldn’t know.”

Two Face’s face contorts at your response and, before he can reveal the Heads that lay underneath his hand, you see multiple shadows flitting down from the sky.

From here, it’s a flurry of rapid-paced movement as everyone moves in at once.

Robin’s the one who whisks you off and hands you off to Arsenal. You quickly duck behind the barricade they’ve created for you on a nearby rooftop.

Below, the sounds of war cries, clanking and pained cries ring out into the bay, reminding you of the very real situation at hand.

Robin looks at you, grabbing your hand in his. “I need you to stay safe,” his voice shakes out. “It’s selfish, I know, but just say the word and I’ll take you far away from here.” The whites of his mask hide effectively hide his usual tells from you. “It’s what father instructed me to do.”

Your breathing hitches, “You’re not going to?”

He’s going against Batman?

“I know you can handle yourself,” he sighs. “I also know you’d only blame yourself if anything happened to anyone here without you having a way to stop it.” Robin stares down at your connected hands. “Just promise me you won’t make me regret this.”

“Promise."

He isn’t able to look at you after this and he releases your hand at once. Robin takes down two men before tackling another group of them back down to the ground, knocking them out with the landing.

When you turn around, Arsenal’s tugging his trucker hat low enough on his head that you’re only barely able to see the wicked glint in his eyes.

“Well, wasn’t that just fuckin’ special,” Arsenal doesn’t try to hide the jealousy lighting up his voice.

Roy… Jealous… of you???

That’s fucking rich.

“Oh, come the fuck on,” you say with a roll your eyes. All the while, he fires off round after round of rubber bullets into the crowd of goons. “We literally fucked last night.”

He can’t argue with your logic and, instead, reach over for a fist bump. You leave him hanging easily with an unimpressed glare.

“Damn, tough crowd,” Arsenal says. When a few of Two Face’s men get too close, he switches to his specialty arrows.

You watch in a panic as the men attempt to close in on your barricade from either side of the building. You don’t have to worry for too long, though, as Arsenal wastes no time in firing off shots from his prosthetic. The arrows appear to have heat trackers in them as they trail behind the screaming goons. The burly men trample each other down the stairs in an attempt to flee from the fury of Arsenal’s bionic quiver.

You can’t help but watch with wide eyes. “Woah,” you mutter in amazement. You absentmindedly go to feel up his weapon, regretting it instantly when you feel its radiating heat. “That’s fucking awesome, I can’t even lie.”

“New favorite superhero?” he teases while waggling his brows at you from under his trucker cap.

You roll your eyes at his shit-eating grin, “Focus.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, princess.”

The original barrage of arrows seems to have done their job, but soon enough more of Two Face’s men break away from Nightwing down below. Once again, your barricade comes under attack as the burly men attempt to breach it again.

Suddenly, Spoiler swoops in to start chipping away at the back of the wave, mainly Joker’s men, until Red Robin joins her at her side. You watch as they swiftly eye each other up with barely contained amusement at their predicament. Without hesitation, the two of them work in well-practiced coordination to tackle more of the horde heading your way.

The moshpit on the ground steadily thins as each Bat makes their way through the throng of henchmen, taking on multiple men at a time.

This is good, you think.

Another glance around proves the two Robins are squaring off with Two Face, but still, Red Hood, Batman and the Joker are nowhere to be seen.

That’s… definitely not good.

A quick look behind you proves Arsenal’s already thinking the same thing.

Arsenal screams your name and you duck on instinct, watching in horror as two bullets become embedded in the armor of his stomach. He grunts, then cries out in pain as their weight sinks into his flesh. He makes quick work of the offending gang member before stumbling over to you.

“I can’t,” Arsenal chokes out as he slides down the front of the barricade, stomach clasped in his hands. Thin streams of blood trickle onto his pale arm as they weave syrupy paths in between the spatters of freckles. “I need you, please.”

You gulp, thinking back to how different those exact words sounded coming from him just the night before.

“I’ll protect you,” you promise, taking the Uzi strapped to his thigh in the process. You check the chamber out of habit, keeping a steady eye on the advancing men all the while. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

A weak smile tugs at the corner of his chapped lips. “Go get ‘em, princess.”

You sigh, cracking your neck to either side and shaking out your arms as a mixture of Joker and Two Face's henchman clamor over the roof’s edge. They stalk toward you with disgusting, wanton looks in their eyes.

You pump yourself up one more time, shivering as cold adrenaline settles across your entire body. They’ve got the wrong fucking one.

While they’re still some way off, you play crowd control.

You swiftly scatter the men with rubber bullets, only halting when you need to reload, but quickly realize you don’t have the time. Though you’ve managed to knock out 90% of the hoard, five hulking men remain.

You throw aside the empty gun with disdain as Arsenal fires off quick shots from behind. He manages to distract two of them well enough that you’re able to square up with the other three.

One of them scoffs as he takes in your battle stance, “I didn’t sign up to hit no fuckin’ bitch.”

“This bitch just took out Frankie and Tommy in seconds,” he reminds his friend. The man cracks his knuckles, grinning at you with a smile that's supposed to be terrifying but only causes you to roll your eyes. Henchmen always play into the same stereotypes, it seems, both in comics and in real life. “We’re takin’ her down. Then we’re takin’ her down,” he says with a wink.

The other goons start howling with laughter as they close in on you like a pack of wailing hyenas.

You’re ready for them as you steel yourself with the skills they’ve taught you that you didn’t have the first time around at the gala.

Round two motherfuckers. Ding, ding!

Your battle smile works its way onto your face, begging them to fuck with you.

They finally bite your bait and one of the men takes his swing.

While they’re all large, bulky men, they’re entirely too slow for your speedy form. You dodge the haymaker easily, leveraging his uneven weight against him to send him sprawling straight across to the other edge of the roof. The remaining two men stare after him in shock.

You use their distracted state to jump up and smash their skulls together.

You waste no time in spinning around to help Arsenal with the two he’s been distracting. He’s already nearly at the ledge when you blindside the biggest goon by pummeling into him from the side like a bull, effectively knocking him away from Arsenal’s bleeding form.

The other man is already extremely injured from Arsenal’s arrows and only takes a few swift hits before he’s knocked out.

The pleasant buzz of adrenaline feeds your ravenous hunger for vengeance, but it also blinds you.

You rush to where Roy is slumped over and panting in exertion. “R-” Even through his blood loss, he shoots you a glare and you correct yourself quickly, “I mean, Arsenal.” You shake your head quickly in apology. “Sorry. First day on the job and all, you know?” you try to joke, but the redhead is far too out of it to do anything more than gurgle around a small quirk of his lips.

While you’re tending to Arsenal, the first man you’d sent sprawling across the roof comes back to return the gesture.

You’re airborne for what feels like a minute, though it can’t have been more than two seconds.

You groan as your body skids agonizingly across the rooftop. The thick scratches you’ve just gained singe your skin, though the more pressing matter is that you’re currently halfway off of the rooftop. You blink, staring down at the battle below as you land in a way that leaves your head over the ledge. You blink again, realizing just how close you’d come to becoming sidewalk meat.

Okay, no more looking down.

You hear thunderous steps advancing on you from behind, tussling through Arsenal’s barrage of firepower as they continue your way unhindered.

You pant, groaning as your scraped hands clutch around the ledge.

Now’s not the time to panic and it’s most definitely not the time to…

You look down again.

It’s a mistake.

You whimper, closing your eyes while praying that Arsenal can hold the dude off for just a while longer.

You need to get back up.

Though it’s not a technique the Wayne’s taught you, you pathetically wriggle backward like a snake, not even caring how ridiculous it looks so long as it gets the job done. Once you’ve backed up enough, you roll just in time to miss Joker’s henchman lunging to unleash a punch where you’d been trapped mere seconds ago.

“Holy shit,” you breathe with wide eyes as the humongous goon becomes momentarily preoccupied with nursing his mangled fist. “Oh, shit,” you curse, nodding rapidly to yourself as you scurry away from his distracted state and trip in the process. The goon hears your curse and his attention easily shoots your way like a shark sniffing out blood. He’s definitely angry this time as he slowly breaks into a full-on sprint your way. You scramble up on your wobbly feet, heartbeat thrumming in your ears as you race with a worried face back toward Arsenal. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy SHIT!” you screech as you duck and dodge blindly out of the goon’s reach.

You distance yourself from the far ledge and close the distance between you and the dazed redhead.

When you know you’re about to run into the vigilante, you halt suddenly. Your feet skid backward across the dirty rooftop like a move straight out of the comics as you suddenly spin to face the assailant head-on.

Your face shines with determination as you lean into your fighting stance. Milliseconds later, you’re ducking before popping back up to unleash an unforgiving fist upside the man’s chin. His jaw, or at least you hope it is, audibly snaps and the once intimidating man crumbles to the floor like a child.

You drop to your knees before you can think otherwise, mind still completely absorbed in the attack. You gasp, feeling the tickling presence of emptiness meet your back as your calves slip from the ledge of the roof you’ve unknowingly found your way to.

Then, you’re falling, cutting through the signature thick, grotesque smog of Gotham.

“NO!” Roy screams your name with a raw pain you never want to hear again. With the way things are currently going, you won’t have to.

The rushing wind helplessly pushes its transparent strength against your body as you come closer and closer to your demise.

So, this is how you die.

Sorry, Damian, for breaking your promise.

You close your eyes, smiling, ready for whatever comes next.

Jason’s died before and he seems… Well, he’s… Who are you kidding? The kid’s still a mess, but, you know, now much less so.

It’s still comforting, regardless of Jason’s sometimes hostile disposition, that he has, in fact, died before.

There’s no flashback of memories, there’s no words of wisdom, there’s no dramatic music. You’re alone with the beating of your heart and the wind.

The mere seconds tick on, feeling like minutes as you fall weightlessly into the unknown.

Instead of splatting onto the pavement below, the wind is sucked out of you as you land hard against... You squirm around to find none other than Batman. He glances down at you, checking you over for injuries before setting you down in a cleared area behind Nightwing.

There’s no time to recollect, well, anything, as you’re forced right back into battle.

“We need to get you out of here,” his eyes and stern tone leave no room for argument, though Nightwing’s quickly overpowered. “You shouldn’t be here in the first place,” he reprimands you, leaving you to shrug sheepishly in response.

Before Batman can go for the comms, he’s swept back up into battle. His black cape flutters, obstructing you from view as he joins alongside the blur of Nightwing’s signature escrima sticks.

From in front of you, you as watch Red Hood meets up with Joker in the midst of the sea of swarming bodies.

This isn’t good…

Red Hood grows more aggressive with the assailants, allowing his fists to come down harder and kicks to connect with a sickening power. You wonder if he’s even using rubber bullets anymore.

Joker, a few yards ahead of him, prances around, using anything and anyone in sight as weapons. In his fucked up mind, you suppose they’re mere props to further his deranged performance.

Red Hood continues forward in the same merciless manner, blazing a war path with his usual ruthless demeanor. A particular cruel shot has you scrambling for Batman as Red Hood comes face to face with the man who killed him for the first time since the gala.

You stumble backward, unable to take your eyes off Red Hood’s brute power with sickening amazement.

This isn’t right, though.

The Joker throws a grenade Red Hood’s way, but he just picks it up and throws it back, shooting it in the air just before it’s set to hit the madman. The explosion shakes the ground but is only a brief roadblock as your vengeful lover pistol whips the Joker across both cheeks. You watch as he drags the madman up off the ground by his green hair.

The thunderous explosion is finally enough to get Batman heading Red Hood’s way, though not before their wily opponent can climb into a loading crane.

Shit.

Like the battle hasn’t already been fucking hard enough, now we’re bringing heavy machinery into play?

This is so entirely fucked.

The crane stirs to life, unleashing a terrifying, beast-like roar while the man behind it cackles gleefully. His first move is to lift the cargo box already loaded onto the crane and swings it rapidly over the raging battle. The metal crate thuds over the few henchmen Batman and Nightwing weren’t able to save.

You hide, using the shadows for cover as more cargo boxes are wildly swung around in the air and dropped like bombs on the throngs of people below. The Joker obviously doesn’t care who he hurts, throwing caution to the wind as his men get tangled up in the bloodshed.

So long as people are getting hurt, Joker’s happy.

Meanwhile, Two Face frowns as he takes in the fight. He searches around for his next move, hightailing it once he sets his sights on a nearby forklift to even the playing field.

“Yeah,” he snickers, turning the key as the engine roars to life. “Now, this is more like it.”

His first target is a distracted Red Robin, who, upon hearing another motor revving, has enough sense to jump up, leaving Two Face to mow down his own men instead. The psychotic man seethes as he throws the forklift into reverse with a displeased grunt.

Red Robin wobbles unsteadily before he’s thrown to the ground as the machine shifts into drive.

Without hesitation, you leap forward, snatching him out of harm’s way and nearly getting yourself run over in the process.

Red Robin looks down at you, stunned. There’s not much time to dwell, though, as the two goons not under the forklift lunge toward the two of you on the ground. Red Robin rolls the two of you to the left, then right, dodging each punch before popping up and unleashing a flurry of fists.

Meanwhile, you scramble to your feet and wobble laughably into your stance.

The man quirks an unimpressed brow at you before following suit. “You gonna be a good girl for me, sweetheart?” he teases.

You huff.

Men are so fucking dumb. If he’d just charged you instead of humoring you, you’d’ve been a fucking goner, but no. He wants to play?

So be it.

Let’s fucking play.

He spits blood from his previous bat family encounters on the ground with a smile before charging at you with his bulky body. You wait until the very last second before simply stepping out of the way, sending him barreling into the brick behind where you’d been.

Now for the boss man.

Two Face seems to have forgotten you and Red Robin and you watch with horror as he bulldozes straight toward a distracted Batman and Red Hood.

Batman shoves Red Hood out of the way of the metal rods the Joker’s unloading from a drastic height. It seems like he’s getting a better hang of the dangerous machine and it’s definitely not a good thing.

“I’m really starting to like this baby!” He giggles with glee, though it’s effectively cut off by wide eyes as Batman carefully traverses the windshield, bursting in through the opened door. “Uh, oh,” Joker slides across the seat in an attempt to exit through the other door but bumps into a seething Red Hood who blocks the only other exit. “Now, Batsy,can’t we just talk this out over a nice cup o’ joe-?”

POW!

Even from where you’re standing, you hear the sickening crunch of the Joker’s now broken face. You watch as Batman takes the key to the machine and bends the metal with his bare hands to prevent further usage.

Red Robin sees Two Face getting closer to his family and makes a mad dash for the duo. He doesn’t slow any as he grabs Nightwing by the forearm to drag him over to put a stop to the father-son quarrel, “Back me up!”

Nightwing quickly falls into step with him, “Right behind you.”

They throw Two Face from the driver's seat and lunge out of its path, leaving the forklift to crash into a stack of metal rods. The heavy metal clatters and tumbles to the ground with a roaring might and your heart stops when you realize you’re directly in the line of fire.

A flash of red and you’re momentarily weightless for the second time tonight. A quick look to the side proves Red Hood’s ditched the Joker to come to your rescue. You’re rendered speechless as he uncharacteristically, not to mention roughly,drops you back down to the ground to face Batman.

“How dare you stop me from delivering justice when this is the carnage he still leaves behind?”

You can practically hear the pain behind his robotic impediment.

When Red Hood socks Batman, you can practically feel the pain as his heavy fist lands in between the flexible joints between his armor. Batman grunts at the contact, parrying without a second thought, “Justice or vengeance?”

Red Robin seems nervous as he aids Nightwing in holding their brother back. Red Hood easily overpowers them, throwing the two of them off of his muscular body like rag dolls.

Red Hood gets in his father’s face and although you can’t see or hear any of the emotion, his actions ooze it. “Are they not the same?”

This is not a man you recognize, well, not since first meeting him, at least.

You can’t just sit by and watch him throw away all the progress he’s made over the years in the heat of the moment. You need to stop this before it escalates further and you all lose sight of the actual mission: getting everyone in the family out of here alive.

You can’t lie. Earlier on the rooftop, you'd experience the same blinding rage. Seeing Jason like this makes you realize that, no, they’re not the same.

“Gregor Samsa!”

His red helmet snaps toward you and you don’t waste a minute further as you come to his side.

Batgirl and Spoiler are covering you guys. Meanwhile, Nightwing and Red Robin hesitate, not knowing whether to intervene in family affairs again just yet or not.

“Kafka?” his warbled voice sounds confused even through the modulator. “The fuck does the book Metamorphosis have to do with anything?”

Batman’s eyes shift to you as he continues to let Red Hood hold him up by his chest plate.

“I understand your pain, love,” you scramble for what to say as everyone’s eyes land on you after the pet name. “No matter how much you grow your calloused exterior, you will always be that ostracized little boy. You don’t want vengeance like this.”

“Fuck YOU!” he screams, causing your eyes to go wide.

Red Hood front kicks his father in the stomach, sending him sprawling into a rapid pack of henchmen. He then spatters the men with rubber bullets before grabbing Batman by the cape, thrashing him across the ground like a loose whip.

You’re seconds from accidentally screaming out his actual name in horror.

It’s looking bad and you know you need to reach him before it’s too late.

Nightwing’s taken to warding off henchmen while Spoiler leaps from place to place, trying to knock down as many of the goons who are waking back up as she can, but everyone’s steadily slowing down.

“YOU WANT ACCEPTANCE. You want LOVE,” you can’t help but shout again, “AND YOU HAVE IT. All around you, look.” You motion to each member of the bat family from wherever they are in the battle and he easily follows the action. “You and I owe that monster nothing, not even revenge,” you sigh as the weight of your words fully settles over you, knowing it’s true. “It’s not worth it.”

He glances at his father once more before dropping his limp body and storming up to you.

Even when he’s mad and terrifying, he can’t help but be dramatic.

“So, what?” Red Hood asks, getting right up in your face as he looks down at you. It’s almost like he expects you to back up, but you don’t. You hold your ground and glare right back up at his dumbass. “We lock him up; he escapes, he kills and tortures again. Is that what you want?”

It’s pointed at you and you know it.

“Not that this isn’t an amazing, touching moment,” Nightwing pants as he backflips and kicks two men upside the face at the same time, “but we kinda need some backup.” Numerous goons and Two Face lurk menacingly closer to your worn-out group. The assailants charge forward with war cries and the hero looks back towards his family, “Like, right now would be good.” He doesn’t even need to turn around to know when to flip out of the way.

Batman gets to his feet, catching you off guard. It’s enough distraction that Nightwing’s able to chuck you over his shoulder and hightail it away from the action.

“What are you DOING ?!” you scream. You beat your fists against Nightwing’s back as you watch your loved ones get overpowered by the surprise attack. “PUT ME DOWN,” you wail, kicking at his firm stomach before leaning right next to his ear with a terrifying, low growl. “Dick motherfucking Grayson, you take me back there THIS FUCKING INSTANT,”your gritted whisper steadily ascends throughout your sentence until it reaches a shrill screech.

You begin to kick again until he finally does put you down.

“Jesus, fuck kid,” he groans and leans over like he’s going to puke all while flipping you off.

You have half a mind to break his fucking finger while he’s busy rubbing at the ear you screamed into, but you’re more preoccupied with getting back to Red Hood. Ten steps forward and you realize this is going to be a harder challenge than you’d previously thought.

Your brain buzzes numbly, feeling overwhelmed by the constant onslaught of everything. Through the buzz, you hardly remember thinking about anything at all other than keep moving.

So, here you are. On the ground, embedded in battle, dodging attacks, hoping Arsenal is still safe on the roof and not, you know, dead. All while knowing that you’ve gone and put Nightwing out of commission by spazzing when he was only trying to save you.

You’re effectively surrounded until said hero backflips over the group of men’s heads, knocking a few of them out with his sticks along the way.

You hustle to his side, circling back to back like you had when you sparred with Damian and him in the manor. Back to back with Nightwing, you feel all those sparring sessions smack back into your brain.

He glances over his shoulder and down at you. “You ready to kick some ass?” he asks with a light smirk.

You offer him an apologetic smile. “I promise not to kick you this time.”

He snorts at you as the men close in, “Good thinking.”

You waste no more time as you unleash the flips and twists he’d taught you all those years ago.

You hope to fuck that your kicks to his stomach didn’t set him back too much because you need his full effort behind you. Especially when all the exertion’s gone and torn open your stab wound. The pain radiating from it is becoming increasingly harder to ignore.

The goons you’ve got talk to fucking much and it’s driving you crazy. Their words and hollers only spur you on further, knocking the majority of them down with the other men in less than a minute.

You’re startled when Nightwing suddenly calls out to you, “Switch!”

Your body moves on instinct.

The new group of men have been completely roughed up by Nightwing and all they need is a few more hits each before they’re out.

Easy, right?

The first two take you on at once, while the third waits eagerly on the sidelines, screaming and chanting all the while to throw you off. You don’t let it work.

Once again, you’re completely focused as they make to charge you, but you duck and roll out of the way at the last minute. You watch from the ground as they barrel head-first into each other and slump in a pile to the ground.

Your stab wound has already begun to leak through your shirt. The stabbing pain has become so familiar that it merely becomes another numbing sensation added on to your overwhelmed body.

That just leaves…

“Well, well, well,” the balding henchman drawls as he advances on you. You wobble to your feet, hand covering your wound in the process. “You have moves, I’ll give you that.” He eyes you up and down.

You try to steady your panting breath, but you can’t seem to get enough oxygen into your aching lungs, no matter how hard you try. Nightwing’s grunts and witty retorts sound somewhere in the back of your mind, but a high-pitched ringing takes over the majority of your hearing.

You’re shutting down and you know it.

A static settles over your body, humming with your declining energy and adrenaline. Now’s not the time to give in to it just yet, though.

“You wanna fuckin’ fight, ‘er wha?” you tilt your head at him, albeit unsteadily, with your words starting to slur. You spit, tasting metallic ooze as you do. You hate how the weight of your head seems to be too much for your neck to support at the moment, but, hey, work with what you got, right?

He advances on you without another word. His strong fists are calloused and they graze your slowed movements with a heavy, unignorable edge. One hit from him will definitely be enough to knock you out if you’re not careful.

He scoffs at your unconventional stance and, in the same breath, brings down his fist in the center of your chest. The wind is painfully knocked out of you even after having stepped partially out of the way of the hit, proving your earlier point true- you need to avoid his hits, or you’re fucked.

You shake your head, unleashing a front kick, then a roundhouse to create more space between the two of you. Based on his smirk, he seems largely unfazed by your attacks and charges forward, ruining whatever measly distance you’d gained.

You don’t have the will to try any flips, nor do you have the confidence that any of them will land, leaving you with whatever fumes of strength you have remaining.

Your head spins as you dodge a haymaker thrown toward your stomach and retaliate with a fist of your own. You have no time to celebrate the broken nose you’ve just given him before he’s coming back for more.

You can’t keep going like this.

Whereas your energy leaks to the ground like a broken spigot, his radiates like a raging nuclear bomb that’s ready to envelop you whole.

Another hit, another parry; more energy gone.

You’re comically slow at this point, but he’s not going any easier on you, as evidenced by his kick that nearly costs you your balance.

“Nigh,” you pant. “Nigh- wing,” you cough, heaving blood in the process. You watch, hypnotized, as it spills onto the last clean part of your shirt. What hit caused it? You have no idea only that, holy shit, it’s a lot of blood.

It’s pathetic and the volume of your dying voice is only loud enough for you and the goon to hear.

“I said you have moves, but,” you look up just in time to get punched again with the same ferocity, “it’s clear that you’re out of them.”

His kick lands right smack on your stitched wound.

You throw your head back and howl as the pain stabs you to your core, “FUCK!”

You’re thrown back by the force and watch as a sinister grin finds its way across his face. “I’m gonna enjoy this a little too much,” he winks and wastes no time straddling you. He puts an intolerable amount of pressure on the stitches that remain intact. You nearly puke when the rest of them burst apart at his action. “Good thing church is tomorrow, yeah?” he breathes a chuckle across your squirming form.

You ignore his odd statement in favor of lucidly squirming, but it’s in vain.

Nightwing calls out your name, but he’s got five assailants on him who show no signs of slowing.

You whimper and struggle against the man, but the movement quickly becomes unbearable. Your eyes go crossed in absolute agony when the henchman leans forward again. The sickly pressure builds until a blood-curdling scream unleashes from the depths of your being.

You black out and wake up in thin yet sturdy arms.

“The-, the fuggin’,” you slur through the pain and blood loss, “ztitchezz.”

“I know,” Robin’s familiar voice coos in a calming manner.

You’re set down somewhere relatively quiet, all things considered, though you’ve yet to fully open your eyes since being on the ground.

“What’s it looking like?” That’s Nightwing. At least you didn’t leave him for dead like you did Roy.

“Nightwing, Arsenal needs back up on the roof over there.”

Your eyes blearily blink open, blinking through the blurred haze to see Arsenal slumped behind the barrier, giving it his all. It’s obvious, even through your blood loss, that he doesn’t have much left to give due to his own blood loss.

“Got it, baby bird.” Nightwing gives him a tiny salute before somersaulting across the large space between the warehouse rooftops to race to Arsenal’s aide.

Once he’s gone, Robin walks over to where you slowly push yourself into a standing position.

“What are you doing?” Robin hisses as he rushes over to support you. “Stay down and out of sight. I should’ve taken you away from here as soon as everything went to shit. You have no business being here,” he grumbles as if he’s repeating what Bruce told him earlier and tugs at his hair. “I think I messed up,” he says finally. You don’t know if it’s your half-delirious state or if Damian’s always been this indecisive, but you watch him pace back and forth. He comes to a halt in front of you as you regain as much of your bearings as you can. “We’re leaving,” he demands.

First, Dick rips you away from Jason and now Damian wants you to abandon Roy?

Not happening.

No way in hell.

“Fuggin’ delusional,” you flick his nose and saunter, well, at least you want it to look like a saunter, to the edge, “‘F you thing I’m leavin’ ah,” you wince at a particular tug of pain, “without them.”

“You’ll get yourself killed, you suicidal dumbass,” he spits in your face. “You’ll only bring us down. Your training means nothing.”

You thought you’d already felt the worst possible pain imaginable, but no. His words cut deeper into you than any sais ever could. You can’t help but remember this same sinking feeling when Jason and Roy gave you the SOS bracelet, but, hey, look how many times that actually did come in handy.

They’re all only trying to protect you, you realize, in the only way they know how, but it’s not going to work. You’re already too involved with the plan being too far in.

You smack yourself a few times on the cheeks, bouncing unsteadily from foot to foot and wincing all the while. You steel yourself for one final battle as you hurry to milk any and all of the few remaining dregs of adrenaline within yourself.

“You said it yourself. I can’t just sit by while my family gets hurt on my behalf,” your slur is mostly gone and you use it as an opportunity to plead your case. “You’d have no time to take me anywhere and, even up here, I’m a sitting duck,” you gasp and duck when a stray bullet whizzes past the two of you as if to cement your point further. “Whether it be ricochet, blood loss, or suicidal tendencies, I really don’t give a fuck,” your eyes burn into his. “You’ll have to kill me right here and now before I let you keep me away from the men I love.”

There’s a slight hitch in his breath.

He eyes you warily as you slouch into a starting stance, albeit a weak one. “I won’t fight you,” he warns.

“We’re wasting TIME, D-ROBIN!” you exclaim. Alas, your desperate pleas fall on deaf ears. “Training means nothing, sure, but will is everything,” you spit his words back at him from all those years ago. “The will to act.” Your breathing is shallow as you face your friend down. “Well, I’m here and I’m ready to act.”

He glares at the near slip-up and swiftly approaches you. “You’re no fucking hero,” your name hisses out between the cracks of his gritted teeth. “If I have to knock you out to get you to safety, I will,” he closes the remaining space with ease and whispers the next part, “and I will do it all without hesitation.”

“Don’t make me do this, Dami,” you can’t help that their alias’ and their actual names have become jumbled in your pain-ridden brain as you slip up again. “‘M gonna make it easy. Turn away and let me go.”

His mouth shifts as he seems to fight off tears angrily. “Yeah?”

You know he’s not going to let you. At the very least, you had to give him the out.

You choke, “Yeah.”

Even in your slowed state, you know the hit is coming before he can even pull the punch.

You reach expectantly for his right arm, using your strength and his light weight to send him sprawling off the rooftop when the inevitable hit comes.

You know you don’t have long before he catches his bearings and swings back up with his grappling hook.

You shake your body off as you come to the ledge.

Nightwing made the daunting distance between the rooftops look easy, though, up close, it seems impossible. You know Robin’s hot on your trail and also that if you don’t hurry the fuck up, you’ll be noticed and shot.

So, with the pressure mounting, you fly.

Kinda.

“OMPF!” Your body jerks against the side of the opposite building, smacking your wound against the brick with each reverberation.

You don’t know how much attention you’ve drawn to yourself, but you can hear Damian behind you. You will not go gently. Your face scrunches up in a combination of pain, concentration and pure exertion as you lift yourself onto your forearms.

From here, you find yourself behind Arsenal’s barrier. He grunts as he uses his draining strength to tug you up to where the final stand is taking place. Below is filled with bodies, be they passed out or dead, littering the dock like leaves in the fall night.

Red Hood shakes the ground with his landing when he joins seconds later with his guns ablaze. His dual handguns light up the rooftop with a barrage of rubber bullets that none of the goons are able to dodge.

“Rubber bullets?” Joker cackles as Batman socks him in the stomach hard enough to send spit sprawling into the air. “You’re getting soft on us, Hood!”

Red Hood wastes no time, swooping in to tug the Joker away from Batman. Batman makes to go after them but is quickly subdued by the last wave of henchmen that remain.

“Yeah? Not you, though,” his modulated voice is discernibly gritted as he unloads the rubber bullets and replaces them with ones that clink loudly into his gloved hands. “No, you get the fun ones.”

Your eyes whip over to him at his statement.

After that touching speech, you still haven’t managed to get through to him?

“Oh, goody!” Joker claps gleefully, laughing when Red Hood unleashes haymaker after haymaker to his face. Each punch stains the vigilante’s leather gloves with an increasing amount of the lunatic’s face paint.

It’s horrid to watch, so you use it as a distraction while you finish pulling yourself up.

Roy’s- head in the game, you berate yourself- Arsenal’s worried eyes are the only ones to spot you so far. He scrambles to kneel. His entire arm is painted red while fresh blood continues to ooze from the two bullet holes. “Hood, stop,” Arsenal’s weakened, breathy pleas fall on deaf ears.

Red Hood looks around rapidly as he becomes overpowered by a new swarm of Joker’s men.

In his haste, he nearly puts a bullet in you.

You duck and roll out of the way with a pained groan.

Now, everyone notices your presence.

Not good, not good.

You shuffle backward away from the men who are significantly closer to you than any of the vigilantes.

There’s a brief moment of pause before chaos, once again, ensues and you become lost in the madness.

In the midst of Nightwing, Red Hood and Batman fighting off the swarms of goons, Joker manages to sneak up on you. You can’t even manage a scream before he covers your mouth and drags you closer and closer to the edge, snickering getting louder with each step.

When you finally come to the edge, you don’t have a chance to look back to see if anyone’s noticed when he does the unthinkable. Though, when it comes to the Joker, is it really unthinkable?

“I do love a good reunion!” he says as he swings you around aggressively. “Now tell me- last time did you scream like this?” You try to hold in the urge as he tips you over the edge of the roof, but it’s in vain. A whimper, then a screech, unleashes from your throat. “Or like this?” Joker swivels you around and punches you square in the jaw. A pained cry escapes at the contact, much to your dismay. “No? Maybe more like this!" his voice darkens dramatically as he brings a knife to your throat. “You knew this was going to happen sooner or later! It’s called parallelism, darling,” his words are rushed with uncanny glee, like he can’t wait to get to whatever horrors that are coming next.

Red Hood’s hulking form is on him in an instant, charging across the rooftop to halt right behind his lanky form.

The way Red Hood’s holding his gun against the greasy, green hair on his head, you’re nearly sure he’s going to shoot right then and there, regardless of you falling or not. You know what this monster did to the one you loved, what he’s done to you and your found family. You, admittedly, love Jason and hate to see how the hurt this madman’s inflicted has lingered year after year, but this isn’t the right way.

Batman voices the same thing.

“Remember who your real enemies are,” Batman reminds a conflicted-looking Red Hood as he stares down at his gun.

Red Hood hesitates, looking from you to Arsenal, then back down at the chuckling clown.

Surveying the slowing battle, you see that Robin has your parents rounded up and Red Robin and Spoiler have Two Face at a standstill. Most of the gang members have already been knocked out, with the rest either fleeing or tied up, aside from a few still kicking both metaphorically and literally.

“Oh, enemies,” Joker drawls. “They’re like ex-girlfriends. I’ve got too many, HA!” he jokes, looking around at everyone’s serious faces. “Nothing? Really?” His face drops. “It’s all business with the lot of you, all about the money,”he spits with an exaggerated disgusted face. “What happened to the theatrics? That certain, je nais se quoi everyone nowadays seems to lack.”

“Shut up and help me, clown!” Two Face swings at Spoiler, attempting to flee to the roof, but she dodges and uses his force against him. He stumbles and ultimately falls back to the ground. “You do want your money, right?” he calls up to the madman.

Joker looks at Two Face and your parents as he begins to cackle. He continues to hold the knife but uses the other to pull a gun. To your shock, it’s not trained on you but rather trained on his accomplices. He giggles so quietly you nearly think it’s a cough.

“Yes, it’s true, this started out as a way to get money, but that’s sooooo boring!” he drawls and Red Hood clicks his safety off. “I have a new… business,” he flounders his hand before producing, “associate, of sorts as it were. We share the same grandeur vision that this organization lacks. You see, a serum to kill off Gotham’s wealthiest families isn’t large scale enough for me, no. It’s just not effective for my type of work. Buuut, if you ask me,” he gets up close to you, “the potency, though ineffectually non-lethal, seemed just right the way you squealed.” He giggles gleefully, then stops abruptly, looking at you with wide, animalistic eyes. “So, I ditched the old and got with the new!” he cackles as his remaining men suit up in gas masks. Two Faces men scramble, looking around for any sort of guidance, but find none. You look and see Joker putting on his own mask, covered with a wicked smile dripping across its front. “Aw, shucks. Just for old time's sake, shall we?”

Your brows knit together with worry as the knife is replaced by two needles wedged into your arm. You struggle, screaming all while ripping your arm from his hold, but it’s too late. Joker’s henchmen surround you, distracting Red Hood from Joker, but Arsenal’s already on his way for backup.

“What?” You feel the liquid coursing familiarly through your veins as it takes hold of you, washing across your entire body. “What did you do to me?” you whimper.

“I haven’t done anything yet. Just you wait,” he giggles in response. “Oh, Batman!” he calls, standing suddenly. You start to feel the injection take hold on you but are still able to hear an approaching helicopter. Already, your world becomes hazy as the familiar feeling courses through your veins with a sinister new twist. “Plans are so 2008, wouldn’t you say? But my new one might just have to wait! You know I love me a sequel!”

A rope ladder snaps down and Joker takes hold of it.

Over your comms, you hear Batman ordering everyone out.

In your steadily increasing haze, Red Hood and Arsenal come to your rescue.

He hums a jolly rendition of jingle bells loudly as the remaining Two Face henchmen on the ground and your parents succumb to the gas that spills in from the cargo bay. The chopper hangs low in the cloudy sky for a moment more as the Joker’s merry screeches echo across your ringing ears before the helicopter disappears into the twinkling smog of Gotham’s night sky, “And the Joker got awaaay!”

His maniacal laughter crackles like lightning in the calming chaos of the night until he’s no more than a distant rumble in your fear-clouded vision.

Even though he’s physically left, the injections have you seeing renditions of him all around. From Robin Joker, to Arsenal Joker all the way to, quite honestly, the most terrifying one- a Joker-fied Batman.

You desperately scurry to get away from the advancing group of Jokers, all wearing mangled versions of the Bat mantle.

Your breath gets knocked out of you. You don’t even realize that you’ve fallen to the ground as distorted images of the Joker’s hands and the glaring lights of the city below suddenly overtake your sight. Through the haze, you vaguely note a scrawny person with long hair beside you(?) in the passenger seat, but you can’t be sure when your senses are still so warped.

You shake your head and will the visions away to focus on the danger right in front of you.

Joker’s horrifying smile is smacked across Nightwing’s semi-familiar outfit as he advances on you with hands held in surrender, but all you can hear is that horrid cackling.

The group of Jokers, though howling, give you space.

You scoot backward further with gasping, shallow breaths that only serve to suffocate you further. You start to shake, arching in pain when your back settles against cool brick.

“Make it stop, please,” you cry weakly as visions continue to wrack over your mind. “PLEASE!” you scream until your voice is nearly raw.

Two Jokers remove their masks as they slowly approach your frightened form. You struggle to regain your breath as you fight off the toxin and prepare to fight off these fuckers too. That is until their faces slowly morph from contorted grins to the concerned faces of the men you love.

“It’s over,” they all try to assure you, but you just keep shaking your head in your hands.

Your rocking ceases when they put their arms around you.

Though you’re reveling in their comforting contact, you could scoff at their naivety. How can they not see? How can they not SEE???

You pant, welcoming the cool rain as it begins to spill from to sky and onto your feverish face. The edge of the toxin is like an unescapable weighted blanket during a heat wave: relentlessly debilitating.

The drizzle picks up into a downpour, effectively dispersing the rest of the toxin just as the belfry chimes three, echoing rings into the night.

“No,” you manage as rain trickles down your parted lips. “It’s only the beginning.”

You weakly pull Roy and Jason in to kiss them one after the other in front of all the Jokers before abruptly passing out.

A/N: another one of my faves to write! did i get you w the falling scene?? lemme know!

Here’s the Spotify link again!

[next] || masterlist || pinned || ways to support

#reader x roy harper #reader x jason todd x roy harper #jason todd x reader #reader x jason todd #my fic:ars #my fic: the art of rehabilitating snowbirds

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raisedbythetv89 · 1 year ago

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I would like Rob Thomas to be charged for the crime of making me watch Logan switch back and fourth between a 25 year old kendal and a 15/16 year old Hannah 😭😭😭😭😭

IT MAKES ME FEEL VERY ICKY

But also Jason switching between acting fairly age appropriate behavior wise to Kendal (still icky in the context of the story not saying it’s ok but he seems older with Kendal and younger with Hannah) and much younger with a much more boyish charm with Hannah that’s honestly a little freaky like how are you doing that you tall muscular chameleon is it literally just his hair cut and changing the pitch of his voice a little?? Like I know you’re an actor but STILL ITS FREAKING ME OUT AND I DONT LIKE IT.

#veronica mars rewatch #veronica mars #logan echolls #rob thomas I hate you

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roleplay-roulette-blog · 1 month ago

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RP-Partner Wanted

RP-Partner Wanted!

Hi there, my name is Hurricane. I'm currently craving fandom RPs but I'm also very open to creating new OC's (MxM) and Worlds together! I roleplay on Discord on a private server.

Fandoms of Interest:

(The highlighted characters are my preference, but we can always discuss this!)

Banana Fish: Ash x Eiji

Dreamworks: Jack x Hiccup, Pitch x Jack, Bunnymund x Jack

Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus/Trials of Apollo: Percy x Nico, Will x Nico

Persona 3: Protagonist x Akihko, Protagonist x Shinjiro, ShinjiroxAkihiko

Persona 5: Protagonist x Akechi, Protagonist x Ryuji

You can find more on my blog.

Is this you?

You are 21+, but preferably 25+ years old

You have at least some roleplaying experience and are interested in long-term RPs

You are LGBTQIA*-friendly or maybe even part of the community

I only write MxM relationships

You are willing to talk OOC about the RP when plotting is necessary -> This is not a must, but I love making friends with my RP-Partner! We can fangirl about our characters, our plot or just get to know each other!

You are willing to rp in a private Discord server or Google Docs. If you have better options, I’m always willing to learn something new. My blog is only meant to find new partners or share writing-related interests.

I usually write more paragraphs and consider myself literate. We don’t have to match in length, but I prefer quality over quantity. No One Liners, I need something to work with.

If you lose interest in a plot, it’s fine, but please tell me so I won’t be waiting in vain for an answer. Maybe we find something else to write about and if not, that’s fine, too. But please don’t ghost me.

I enjoy writing darker themes from time to time and I’m fine with NSFW, but let’s talk about preferences and triggers. We both need to be comfortable in these situations!

Roleplaying/Writing is my passion, but I work full-time during the week. I usually manage to reply several times a week, sometimes even per day. I’d like my partner to have similar availability. If you’re up for it, we can always meet up for a ‘writing date’ and RP for a specified time.

If we’re roleplaying OCs, I’d like for us both to create new characters. I don’t like to recycle my characters and I usually don’t like to work with pre-set OCs that you use in other RPs.

I'd love to hear from you! If you're interested, send me a DM!

#persona 3 #persona 4 #banana fish #shuake #solangelo #rp partner #rp partner search

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paralaxpolarity · 5 months ago

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"🇮'🇻🇪 🇸🇪🇪🇳 🇹🇭🇮🇳🇬🇸 🇾🇴🇺 🇵🇪🇴🇵🇱🇪 🇼🇴🇺🇱🇩🇳'🇹 🇧🇪🇱🇮🇪🇻🇪… 🇦🇹🇹🇦🇨🇰 🇸🇭🇮🇵🇸 🇴🇳 🇫🇮🇷🇪 🇴🇫🇫 🇹🇭🇪 🇸🇭🇴🇺🇱🇩🇪🇷 🇴🇫 🇴🇷🇮🇴🇳… 🇮 🇼🇦🇹🇨🇭🇪🇩 🇨-🇧🇪🇦🇲🇸 🇬🇱🇮🇹🇹🇪🇷 🇮🇳 🇹🇭🇪 🇩🇦🇷🇰 🇳🇪🇦🇷 🇹🇭🇪 🇹🇦🇳🇳🇭ä🇺🇸🇪🇷 🇬🇦🇹🇪. 🇦🇱🇱 🇹🇭🇴🇸🇪 🇲🇴🇲🇪🇳🇹🇸 🇼🇮🇱🇱 🇧🇪 🇱🇴🇸🇹, 🇱🇮🇰🇪 🇹🇪🇦🇷🇸 🇮🇳 🇷🇦🇮🇳" - Blade Runner

THE BASICS

This is Daffy, using any pronouns albeit with a preference for they/them, writing in UTC-6/MDT or UTC-7/MST, depending on the timezone shenanigans. I write 571401-TR/ "Tobs Ri", who’s the primary focus of this introduction, as well as Kanti Jagx, who’s intro is already up. To find starters or interactions for my characters, the format will be [characterfirstname]: starters or [characterfirstname]: interactions. This is a standard format across the blog for all musings, mirrors, etc., and as I start introducing these tags, I fully intend to make a directory, which will be linked HERE.

To get an idea of Tobs, I’ve included a bit of the app, specifically that first part!

[ fin argus, nonbinary, they/them] Look who just landed! 571401-TR “TOBS RI”, I sure hope you packed all you need. Perhaps you’re not worried as an UNDERBOSS of THE SKELETON CREW. The city has plenty of spots for a 25 year old ANDROID like you. You’ll be known in the city soon enough as THE ESOTERIC, being STRAIGHT-FORWARD and ODD.

THE STATISTICS

Full Name: 571401-TR Nickname: Tobs, Ri-ri, T-R Date of Birth: June 25th, 2380 Gender: Nonbinary Pronouns: They/them Sexual Orientation: Asexual Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Current Age: 25 years. Modification: Android Affiliation: The Skeleton Crew Birthplace: Akumu Slums, New Jakarta Current Neighbourhood: Akumu Slums Occupation: They work as the underboss for the Skeleton Crew, while working to develop new variations of the drugs the gang sells. Known Languages: 571401-TR, being based on an academic research model, speaks most common languages in New Jakarta, including Martian Sign, Japanese, Mandarin, Bahasa Indonesia, Javanese, Hindi, Bengali, and English. However, Tobs doesn't have a language learning software, so they're unable to learn new languages without a full system adjustment, taking them out of commission for a hot second.

INSPIRATION

Pinterest!

Quote: "Do not compete with what is happening. To compete is to prepare for failure. Do not be trapped by the need to achieve anything. This way, you achieve everything." - Dune: Messiah

Label or Archetype: The Magician

Tropes : Do Androids Dream? Eccentric A.I., Reluctant Mad Scientist

Media Parallels: Andy (Alien: Romulus), Roy Batty (Blade Runner), Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Ash (Alien)

Theme Song: We Must Be Killers by Mikky Ekko

Written Aesthetics:

Aniara by Harry Martinson

We're slowly coming to suspect that the space

we're traveling in is of a different sort

from what we thought whenever that word "space"

was decked out by our fantasies on Earth.

We're coming to suspect now that our drift

is even deeper then we first believed,

that knowledge is a blue naiveté

which with a measured quantity of insight

imagined that the Mystery has structure.

We now suspect that what we claim is space

and glassy clarity around Aniara’s hull

is spirit, everlasting and impalpable,

that we have strayed in spiritual seas.

Sight: The flash of bright blue in a pitch black room, screens so broken no one else can read them. The way neon looks when it rains. The instant fear the fortunate feel when meeting the mechanical for the first time. Sound: It clicks, clicks, clacks in the middle of the night, the motion and sound so frequent it marks the start of a day and the end of a night, so steady who needs a clock? Click click clack. The sound of innovation, of constant movement, of death. Taste: Iron and metal and the burn of it all, old pieces and new combined. Old and new and bright and dark and bitter like coffee overbrewed. You cough and red stains your mouth. Iron and metal and the burn of it all. Touch: Smooth and cold and crisp like water from Olympus. Hard to hold and harder to remember, but they are nothing but water and winter made real. Thought: Find. Work, Adjust. Find. Change. Solve the problem. Find. Adjust. Test. Test again. Adjust. Test. Try. Adjust. Change.

#tobs: intro #tobs: about #tobs: task001 #creation style b & g

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judesbelligoal · 7 months ago

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https://www.tumblr.com/judesbelligoal/754936497749311488/httpswwwtumblrcomjudesbelligoal7549345199104?source=share

I think it’s less so his physicality and more so his mentality. Obviously, he’s older, he’s not 25 anymore, he’s not gonna play the same. But I was watching f1 (I watch a lot of racing) and there’s a racer named Lewis Hamilton who hasn’t been quite well on the grid for quite some time now. Thing is Lewis has been world champion 7 times now and he’s a fantastic driver. Well these past two Grand Prixes, he’s done really good, he came 3rd place 2 Grand Prixes ago and he came 4th place this past weekend (his car was literally destroyed so it’s amazing that he came 4th with it). The smile on his face was so wide these past two weekends and lots of us were talking about how it’s less of the fact that he’s older, but more so that he lost his confidence after losing the championship in 2021 (I swear that broke something in him). For reference, he’s the same age as Ronaldo.

Anyway, what I mean is, yes CR7 is old (for an athlete). But I think similarly to Lewis Hamilton, the main problem is that he hasn’t had a win in so long and he’s losing his confidence in himself. I think both him and Neymar have this problem. The human body is very resilient, if they try, they can do it. But MINDSET is what is getting them.

Yes Ronaldo is egotistical so you might think I’m bullshitting about this. But even then, he could still lose confidence in himself over time. These past few years are the first time I’ve ever seen CR7 look nervous on a pitch. And that penalty? Literally Ronaldo’s specialty? He looks like he’s lacking belief in himself. And if he could get ONE goal for himself, he’d feel better, I swear it.

That’s the real difference between Messi and Ronaldo. They’re both older, they both do not play like they once did. But Messi believes he can do it. Ronaldo doesn’t believe In himself anymore.

I actually think you’re right yk. Even way before he took that penalty you could tell his head was not in the game, he missed a lot of chances and nothing seemed to really work. Lack of confidence in his game makes so much sense

#cristiano ronaldo

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helloimjennsco · 1 year ago

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Change of Pace

Chapter 1: A savior comes from out the skies in answer to their pleas

—————

Queen Anne’s Revenge needed a new drummer.

Jack had stormed out in a huff three months ago after another in a long line of screaming matches with Izzy over not overpowering the guitars and hadn’t returned. Izzy insisted he’d come crawling back eventually, but Ed had his doubts. Fang was doing a bang up job as a temporary stand in at their latest gigs, but Ed could tell from the way he looked over at his guitar case at practice with a longing sigh that they couldn’t go on like this for much longer.

After exhausting their network and coming up empty, even Izzy agreed that it was time to do what they never expected a band of their stature to ever have to do again—they booked a local venue for the day and held open tryouts.

It went about as well as they expected, which was badly. The usual suspects turned out in droves—teenage metalheads with passion and the beginnings of skill who weren’t quite there yet; aging rockers aiming to recapture their glory days by dusting off their rusty rhythm skills. There’d been a few promising options: a tattooed 25-year old with blue hair and solid skills, but a pop-punk background. A solemn, middle-aged Latina woman who kept incredible time but played too softly. But with only an hour left, Ed was about ready to call it. They’d tried.

He’d stepped back in from a smoke break and heard Izzy’s voice, sharp with irritation, punctuated by a softer, higher pitched voice that sounded confused at first before shifting to match Izzy’s tone. He rounded the corner for a closer look.

Izzy stood with his back to him, hands on his hips before the last man Ed would have ever expected to turn up at an open audition for a metal band. The man was tall, blond, and good-looking, dressed in the slim cut jeans and and polo shirt of an off-duty dad. His immaculate Vans high tops and the well-worn drumsticks clutched in his fist, however, suggested he knew exactly what he was here for. Ed stepped forward, clearing his throat, and both men’s eyes snapped over to him.

“What’s going on, Iz?” Ed asked.

Fang & Ivan had left around 15 minutes ago when it didn’t look like anyone else was coming, but he regretted sending them home now—would have been nice to have some backup, judging from the ‘get a load of this fucking guy’ look Izzy just shot him.

“THIS guy says he’s here to tryout for drums. And as I already explained to him,” Izzy said, glaring back at the now affronted-looking blond man, “tryouts are now closed. So piss off, you’re too late.”

“The flyers said tryouts ended at six,” the man pouted. Adorable, Ed thought.

“Izzy, c’mon,” Ed sighed. “The flyers did say six, and he’s already here. Don’t be a dick.”

Ed turned to look back at the blond man, whose eyes now glowed with the hope of a golden retriever staring down a snack. “I’m Ed,” he said, extending a hand. “What’s your name?”

The man smiled at him, wide and dazzling, and took Ed’s hand in his impossibly soft one for a solid handshake. “Hi, I’m Stede.”

“Steve?”

“Er, no, STEDE, actually. With a D.” The apologetic set to his mouth now suggested that this was something he had to say a lot.

“My bad, man,” said Ed with a warm smile. “Nice to meet you, Stede. You been drumming long?”

Stede’s eyes lit up in excitement. “Only a few years, but I’ve had a lot of time on my hands since the divorce. Plenty of time to practice when the kids are at their mother’s.”

Ed ignored the swoop of disappointment in his gut that attended Stede’s words and hitched his smile up higher in response. “Well, I’m excited to see what you have to show us today. You like metal, then?”

Stede looked thoughtful. “Not at first, admittedly. But I found out fairly quickly that it’s the most fun to play, so I’ve been broadening my horizons a bit more lately.” Izzy scoffed from behind him—Ed ignored him.

“That’s fine,” said Ed pointedly. “S’not a requirement.”

Stede looked a little embarrassed nevertheless, twisting his drumsticks nervously in his hands. “I know I don’t exactly look the part,” he said softly, “but I really do love playing. I’d like to play with you and your band, if you’ll have me. It’s…always been a dream of mine.”

“You and every other boring middle-aged fuck we’ve seen today,” Izzy grumbled, not quite low enough for it to count as ‘under his breath.’ Ed shot him a glare and he held up his hands in mocking surrender before crossing them in a huff. Ed turned back to Stede.

“I’d love to see you play,” said Ed, clapping him warmly on the shoulder. He was surprisingly solid under that dorky, but expensive-feeling polo shirt. Ed settled into the chair by the sound booth and gestures for Stede to climb the stairs to the stage and sit behind the drum kit.

“What song are you playing?” Ed asked. “I’ll queue it up.” Izzy sidled up next to him, opening his mouth to speak before—

“Painkiller by Judas Priest, please.”

The words died on Izzy’s lips, his sneer dropping into a look of pure shock before shifting into indignation. “There’s no fucking way you can play that fucking song,” Izzy snarled.

“I assure you I can,” Stede sniffed primly.

“Bold choice there, mate,” Ed said, hiding his surprise only a little better than Izzy had. “Excited to hear what you do with it.” Ed found the track and hit play. And then Stede…well, there was no other word for it.

He transformed.

His charming, affable face went steely with focused resolve and, for the first time since his arrival, he went completely still. He launched into the famously difficult drum intro with furious precision—

—and absolutely fucking nailed it.

Ed’s jaw dropped. Out of the corner of his eye, he was dimly aware of Izzy doing the same. But he wasn’t watching Izzy. He was watching a hot, blond, rich suburbanite-looking dad named Stede play the absolute shit out of the drums.

Stede didn’t miss a single beat for the entire six minutes. His brow furrowed with concentration, swaying his entire body with feeling, making it all look effortless. He even scaled back the volume during the guitar solos—it was exactly what they needed from Jack and never got. When he finished the blistering closing drum solo, he exhaled, long and low, and flashed Ed his charmingly lopsided grin once more.

“So?” He asked, pleased but anxious. “What did you think?”

Ed didn’t even look at Izzy before replying—“You’re in.”

“But—“ Izzy started.

“I’ll text you the rehearsal schedule.”

Stede’s smiled, another wide, sunny number that made Ed’s mouth go dry. “I suppose you’ll need my number for that, hey?”

Oh, now that was a look, wasn’t it? Ed felt a glimmer of hope return to him.

Ed met Stede’s glittering hazel eyes with a knowing smirk. “Suppose I will.”

—————

This was originally a twitfic that I then posted to AO3 because Twitter is sinking into the sea. Now I’m posting it here as well! Come say hi, I’m metavenhorst on AO3 and Twitter.

P.S. there’s also an excellent podfic of the first two chapters by @lindie-kninjaknitter !!

#gentlebeard fic #twitfic #rock star blackbeard #drummer stede bonnet #blackbeard x stede #ed and stede #fluff #ofmd fluff #gentlebeard #modern au #stede bonnet is a dork who can melt faces #and ed is INTO it #ofmd fanfic

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aaalanasblog · 1 year ago

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Journal Entry #1:

I have no idea what life is right now. I feel like when you hit 23-26, you begin to wonder what you’re even doing for real. You’re really a toddler-adult. Like I’ve only been here for three days??

I was affected by layoffs in 2023 and wasn’t able to find something else to keep my income stable during that time. It was frustrating having my income drop ✨drastically✨. But during the same year, I found newfound confidence in achieving my dream of becoming a pop artist?

I long let the dream go because I felt that I maybe was too weird; too ugly; too overweight; too anxious; too poor. I had auditioned for a few music variety shows in elementary, middle, and high school, and nothing ever stuck. So I just assumed that maybe it wasn’t fated?

But now at 25, I realize that I was made for this. It truly runs in the family, and now it’s my turn to decide between choosing my dream that’s a bit unconventional vs choosing stability. It’s been 7 months and I’m still choosing my dreams no matter how low my bank account gets; how frustrated I feel when I don’t pass auditions. It’s all building me up to become better.

The ideas I have? The talent I have? The work ethic I’ve gained? The maturity I’ve gained? It all needed to happen in this order I think. I want a long, successful, multi-faceted career. Little me wouldn’t be able to handle it at all. I’ve gained community through an academy I attended to learn dance that inspires me to keep going; I’ve done some in-person auditions to expose myself to higher-pressure situations so I can learn to ground myself; I’m learning and training myself at home to ensure my skills only grow, not plateau; I am actively making sacrifices so I can be better all-around. I have no choice but to succeed.

I’m just hoping that an entertainment company believes in me as much as I believe in myself. I recently submitted 2 auditions to companies that I truly see myself thriving in and believe I may be a good fit for based on their vision of disrupting the global music market (they are kpop company adjacent!). I didn’t choose them lightly. I even created a PDF to pitch myself with a letter and all. I wanted them to see that I’m serious about this. It’s not a quarter-life crisis; I’m not trying to prove “I still got it”. I want them to see that I want to make entertaining my full-time, long-term career. I want to inspire people with my story and with my life. There are so many people who give up on their dreams because of current reality, and I want to be an example that they don’t have to do so.

Being an entertainer, to me, is a huge job of service. You’re serving society and offering yourself to inspire others and facilitate conversation; to add to culture. It’s a beautiful thing that I don’t take lightly.

Anywho…lol I’ve rambled a lot. Idk why I even said all this here. I don’t think anyone who I’ve sent an audition to will see it. Did I say all this for the plot? lmao.

I just hope I’m able to at least do a training test run. It’s a gamble to accept a 25 year old. I just want a chance to prove myself and to show that I can truly do great things. Bring my vision to life. Idk.

Well I guess that’s all for now! Bye 🫶🏽

#dear diary #journal

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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 1 year ago

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Daughter of the Rain and Snow

Concept: Around ten years after the events of Crooked Kingdom, 25-year-old Captain Inej Ghafa frees Maya Olsen from a pleasure house in Ketterdam. Maya is looking for revenge against the man who put her in her position, a man who she knows nothing about except his name: Kaz Brekker.

Tags: @wraith--2 @lunarthecorvus @just2bubbly @real-fragments7 @ethereal-maia @cartoon-clifford @origami-butterfly @lady-a-stuff

Content Warnings: in more general terms I want to remind people to be aware of the nature of Kaz and Inej's experiences and relationship since even if I'm not directly addressing these things they tend to be implicit in any writing about them, but specifically to this chapter there's violence, blood, torture, threats, murder, death, and reference to loss of a sibling.

Chapter 36 - Jesper

It was still thus far unclear as to why Kaz had brought Jesper along on this job. They followed Anika upstairs to a locked, windowless room. It was almost pitch black once they’d closed the door behind them, until Kaz twisted on the gas lamp on the wall. A low, yellowish light leaked over the space to reveal a boy he guessed was about 20 crouching in the far corner. He was gagged and shackled to the table, dried blood marked patterns across his face and hands as well as down his neck, and there were bruises blooming on his right cheek. Kaz’s shark-like glare fell on him, cold and unyielding, and after a minute the boy’s harsh expression faltered. Kaz nodded at Anika, and she stepped forward to remove the boy’s gag.

“You know who I am?” asked Kaz

The boy nodded.

“Good. I’m afraid our introductions are only half complete so please, enlighten me,”

Silence. Kaz hit his cane against the table leg the boy was shackled to and he flinched.

“I asked you a question. Who are you?”

“Filip Boseman,”

“I see. And do you know anything about a gang called the Dime Lions, Filip Boseman?”

“N-no. I swear,”

Kaz bent down so they were eye to eye.

“I think you’re lying to me, Filip,” his voice had taken on that low, dangerous edge, “And I don’t take kindly to liars. My friend Jesper here can tell you that first hand. He can also-” Kaz stood up, “- drive the iron filings I’m about to give him so deep into your flesh that you’ll feel them scratch your bones,”

“I can what?” hissed Jesper, catching Kaz’s arm.

Kaz shook him off. His eyes had darkened, his jaw tightened.

“There are two ways we can do this, Filip. You can tell me the truth now, or Jesper can make a start. He’ll do it nice and slow. And I’m afraid I should warn you, Filip, I have other friends with other… interesting specialties,” Kaz smiled like a snake about to bite, “If you die without telling me the truth, I can send a message to dear Miss Nina Zenik so she can wake you up and we can start all over again. So tell me, is Alby Rollins working with the Dime Lions?”

Filip was shaking. He’d pressed himself as far away from Kaz as he could, which was about two more inches that he had been before, nestled in the very corner of the room.

“I don’t know no Alby Rollins,” he said, “And I don’t know the Dime Lions neither,”

Jesper had to admit, he didn’t think Alby would go for the Dime Lions. After Pekka fled the city in the aftermath of Kuwei’s auction, the gang had all but completely collapsed in on itself. It was an almost literary fall from grace; so used to the protection the fear of Pekka had given them that they weren’t prepared to fight off every Barrel rat who blamed them for getting the other gangs involved with the Stadwatch and Van Eck. With the plague shutting down most of their businesses and every thug who spied their tattoo deciding it was a good place of taking out his anger, the scrap of them that made it through had little territory or pride to keep protecting. They were still kicking around of course, the gangs never really disappeared, and ten years later hatred and anger had turned to a general dislike or prejudice of the gang, but they were no force to be reckoned with. But maybe Kaz thought that Alby was here to try reversing that.

Kaz sighed with disappointment, shaking his head.

“Well, at least let the record say I tried,” he dropped a heavy brown paper bag into Jesper’s hand, “Go on,”

Jesper could feel the shape of the filings through the bag, like thick dust - almost mobile enough to clamber over each other in their clamour for attention. He stared at Kaz.

“What-?”

The shark’s eyes cut him off.

“Let’s start over, shall we?”

Kaz grabbed Filip by the collar and forced him to his feet, slamming him against the wall before taking a couple of steps in retreat. Anika fidgeted with her knife in the corner of Jesper’s eye.

“I know that Alby Rollins paid you to come into my club and start a fight,” he spat, “and I know that he told someone on your team to bring a bomb with them, whether he told you or not. And I know that this was done to ruin my business and distract me for long enough that Rollins would have time to murder my wife. What I want is for you to tell me something that I don’t fucking know yet,”

“Kaz-”

“And let me make something very clear to you, Filip Boseman, there are no rules of play here. I can do whatever I like. And I will. Because I don’t care what you did or didn’t know, you were part of a plot to kill my wife and if you think for one second that I won’t tear you limb from limb for that then you need to think again,”

“Kaz, please,” said Jesper, “Inej is okay-”

“Is she?” snarled Kaz, “Is she okay? Or is she tied to a sickbed tending two stab wounds? Survival doesn’t equal okay,”

“Kaz-”

But he’d already turned back to Filip and grabbed him again, a punch landing on the boy’s stomach.

“Where’s the ledger you took from my office?”

“I don’t…”

Kaz hit him again.

“Where is it?”

“We didn’t take anything,”

“Don’t lie to me,”

“We didn’t take anything, I swear. He just wanted us to rough it up-”

“So you did speak to Rollins? See, now, was that so hard?” Kaz released him and turned away, looking at Anika when he said: “You searched him?”

She nodded.

“No ledger, just a few weapons,”

“What about the others? Did you search the corpses?”

“Rotty did. But the body men haven’t been yet, I can double check,”

“Get on it,”

Anika vanished. Jesper felt suffocated. The little room was overwhelmed with the coppery scent of blood, and the weight of the iron filings felt disproportionate in his hands. Kaz wasn’t really expecting him to do this, was he?

“Who put the note in my office? The toy crow?”

“I don’t-”

“Filip, if you tell me you don’t know one more time I’m going to make party garlands out of your innards. Where did you get the crow?”

“He gave it to us, told us what to do with it,”

“Alby?”

“He didn’t give us a name, I swear,”

Kaz’s fist met Filip’s gut and the boy groaned, trying to double over but held in place by Kaz’s iron grip.

“Why did you agree to the job?”

“Money was good,”

“No. You said you know who I am. Nothing that little skiv could afford is enough to convince anyone to move on me. Even someone as idiotic as you. What did he offer you?”

Filip shook his head. Kaz hit him again, but still he did not reply. Grabbing a fistful of his hair to pull him closer, Kaz leaned into Filip as he hissed:

“Not feeling talkative? Let’s circle back to that one later, shall we? Let’s go back to the note,”

He slammed Filip’s head against the wall.

“Did you read it?”

“Read what?” the boy asked, as if he weren’t clearly choking on blood

“The note Alby had you leave on my desk, with the toy crow. Did you read it?”

“No,”

“What did it say?”

“I don’t know,”

“Curiosity didn’t get the better of you? There wasn’t one moment where you wondered why he was sending you here, and decided to look?”

“I… really, I didn’t-”

“Did you know that you were helping him hurt Inej? Did. You read. The note?”

Kaz accented each word with a punch, before pulling an oyster-shucking knife from his sleeve and holding it up to Filip’s face.

“Think very carefully about your next answer,”

“I read it,” Filip gasped as the blade sliced into his cheek, “I read it, but I didn’t know who she was, I thought-”

“I don’t care what you thought,” Kaz snapped, pressing the blade deeper into Filip’s flesh, “You knew that you were a distraction for an attempted murder, you knew what he was doing,”

This interrogation was derailing very quickly. Jesper wasn’t even sure the information they were getting was relevant to anything, but he wasn’t going to be the idiot who interrupted Dirtyhands. There was a word for people who did that, and the word was “dead”.

“Yes,”

“And you went through with it. You knew what you were doing and you know who I am, but you were stupid enough to go through with that? Look around you, Filip. I want to say you’re the last one standing, but I think we both know if I let go of you right now you’d collapse. This was never going to end well, was it? So why agree?”

“Money-”

“Don’t tell me the money was good. You can’t spend his money if you’re dead. You don’t get into shit like this without a personal stake, so tell me what he has on you - actually, no, I don’t care what he has on you. Keep your secrets, they can die with you. I want to know how he found out. Why would he use you? Pathetic little squirrel trying to steal scraps from the birds’ nests,”

“He hasn’t got anything on me,”

Kaz looked almost genuinely disappointed as he stepped away from Filip. He tapped Jesper on the arm.

“Get on with it,”

“Kaz-”

“Now,”

Jesper hesitated. Kaz made a sound that was almost growling, then pulled Jesper across the room and shoved a piece of paper into his free hand.

“Read it. Then get on with job,”

Jesper couldn’t imagine there was anything much on this bit of paper that would convince him to start torturing a boy with a bag of iron filings. Jesper was wrong.

Pretty lynx, lonely wraith, unhappy little Inej Ghafa. Cursed to flap around her cage forever, but this time who holds the key?

Fly as fast as you can, Brekker. You won’t reach her in time.

He gave the note back to Kaz and marched to the corner of the room where Filip was cowering. Kaz undid the shackles and shoved the boy into a chair, tied his arms in place on the rests, then grabbed his hair to pull his head backwards. Jesper spread a clump of iron filings across his palm and held them out between him and Filip.

“Why did you agree to the job?” asked Kaz.

Filip attempted to shake his head. Jesper laid some of the filings across the boy’s forearm. If he did this slowly enough, they might not actually reach the point of real torture. He hoped they wouldn’t. Jesper would go to the ends of the earth for Inej if he had to, but this didn’t really feel like doing it for Inej. He very much doubted Inej knew it was happening. It felt like doing it for Kaz, and Jesper wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

“Why did you agree to the job?” he repeated.

“I told you, the money-”

Jesper sighed. He pressed two fingers over his hand and took the movement downwards. He wasn’t actually breaking the skin yet but the filings crawled eagerly across Filip’s flesh, and Jesper could feel them getting hotter as he encourage every particle to shake a little faster. Filip gasped, panic surging through him as he thrashed against his bonds.

“Why did you agree to the job?”

“Please…”

Jesper flexed his fingers and sent a row of metal chasing up Filip’s sleeve. It spread up his neck like a spider, reaching up to grab at him and pull him into murky depths.

“Answer the question,”

With a sharp tug of his index finger, Jesper broke the skin on Filip’s forearm. Just barely.

“We owed you,” he gasped, real fear in his voice now, “All of us. He gave us the chance to get back at you,”

Jesper faltered. Filip sighed with relief as the heat subsided for a moment, before Jesper’s focus returned and the filings began to quiver once again.

“Explain,” said Kaz, impatiently.

“We all- we all had reason to go after you,” said Filip, “He told us you’d pay,”

“I see,” said Kaz, in a calm tone Jesper’s fight or flight mechanism was trained to respond to, “And what exactly was your reason, Filip?”

Filip was silent for a moment, and after a brief hesitation Jesper drove a couple of filings a touch deeper into his arm. Kaz was going to kill the boy anyway, he told himself, so you might as well get the information out of him first.

“You killed my sister,” he gasped, eyes widening from the pain, “I bet you don’t even remember her,”

Kaz shrugged.

“Well let’s see… Boseman… Boseman… oh, I think I do remember your sister. Emmeline Boseman, yes?”

“Yes,” spat Filip, through gritted teeth.

“What story did she spin you, Filip? I’m quite intrigued. Because I seem to remember her bringing a gun into neutral territory and wracking up quite a body count before I put her down,”

“No,” said Filip, “She was innocent,”

“There’s no such thing as innocence, not in Ketterdam. This city feeds on pain. The only way to survive it is offer someone else up to the feast,”

A moment passed.

“Still, I think I have all I need from you for now. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon,”

Kaz signalled for Jesper to relax the filings, which he did, then tipped the chair Filip was tied to so he fell to the floor with a sickening shudder.

“Sleep well,”

Kaz opened the door and called for Anika, who appeared in moments.

“You said the body men haven’t been yet. Where are the corpses?”

“Out back. Why?”

“Bring the bomber in, find a chair to tie him to,”

Anika stared at him.

“What…?”

“Go,”

She went.

“Jesper, let’s move,”

He nodded, moving to follow Kaz into the corridor. Behind him, Filip spat blood onto the floor.

“I hope your wife dies from that stab wound,”

Jesper shook his head.

“Just had to push it, didn’t you mate?”

Kaz walked back across the room and knelt down in front of Filip’s quivering form, calm and slow.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I hope your wife dies,” Filip spat, “And I hope it’s painful,”

Kaz took Filip’s chin in his hand, directing him so he couldn’t quite see the other hand lifting his cane.

“And I hope,” he murmured, “that you’ll give your sister my regards,”

The cane struck true. There was the sound of a skull breaking, blood spurting across the wall, a body thumping against the floor. Then silence.

Kaz stood up and brushed his gloved hands down his jacket.

“Send word to Nina,” he said, walking back to Jesper and the door, “I have a job for her,”

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boysplanetrecaps · 2 years ago

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Recap of Boys Planet Episode 1 (Part 1)

It’s time for another giant MNET show! Are you excited, fellow Star Creator? Woo!

This is Boys Planet, also called Boys Planet 999 by random incorrect people, including me. And this thing you’re reading is a “watch along” guide/recap to the show. You can read it as you watch the show to get the behind the scenes dirt, or to keep track of who is who and what is going on, or after you watch, or whenever. I don’t spoil anything with respect to who gets kicked off, but I will help you connect the dots with respect to who is who. I’ll use helpful pictures and stuff, too.

All time stamps will correspond to the version on Viki. When I list ages, I’ll use international ages (Korean ages have historically always been 1 more than the way the rest of the world accounts ages).

Who am I?

An internet rando. I live somewhere in the United States and am over 21 years of age. I used to sing acapella and have a strong sense of pitch, but for dancing I just know what I like. I can read/understand a bit of Korean and a bit of Japanese as well, and can tell the difference between spoken Korean, Japanese, and Chinese, so at times I might be able to shed a little light as to what’s going on. When it comes to evaluating performances, I’m not likely to be mean, and I try to understand what might be going on with people but I will be snarky and honest, especially about the editing. Cool? Cool! 🙂To the recap!

Feel free to skip past the drama-teaser to 1:25 for an earnest promise that the show’s producers have paid other people to watch them so that they can’t possibly cheat, before the show can begin and of course, immediately begin to cheat. Yay!

The show’s host, I’m sorry, “Star Master”, Hwang Minhyun, talks earnestly and dully about how there are stars in the sky and foreign members of kpop groups. Hilariously, he appears to be in a futuristic room looking out into a starry sky, perhaps aboard an orbiting space station with a really good gravity system in place. His desk, a cheap Ikea looking affair, is bedecked with a model of the main seating area for the show -- The Space Council Chambers -- a name plate that says “Star Creator”, an unusually huge yellow desk lamp, and an old fashioned globe. This is the shit I live for.

Minhyun is known for his appearance on Produce 101 Season 2 (aka, Broduce 101) as well as for being a popular member of both Wanna One and NU’EST. I’m more of a Baekho girl, but I like Minhyun just fine. There’s something about his face that I never, ever, ever recognize him when I see him, which I find is often the case for Korean “visuals.” He is nice looking, if a bit… personality free? But that could be the directing.

Anyway, Minhyun gets up and pushes a button that says start…

And then we see a (computer generated) room which has been set aside to house a large…. gumball… machine... thing (that is computer generated). Large plastic balls fall from the two parts of the machine to meet in the center. None of this is necessary, or real, and I find that delightful.

Minhyun tells us that now, we are all Star Creators and we’re going to make the next Kpop boy group that the world wants. You know, in case you’re not happy with A.C.E, Astro, Ateez, The Boys, BTS, Ciipher, CIX, Day6, DKZ, Drippin, Enhypen, E’last, Exo, FTIsland, GOT7, Golden Child, Highlight, IKON, JustB, Kingdom, Lucy, Monsta X, NCT, Oneus, ONF, OnlyoneOf, Pentagon, The Rose, Seventeen, SF9, SHINee, Stray Kids, TO1, Treasure, Trendz, TXT, TVXQ, Up10tion, Vav, Verivery, Victon, Vixx, WEi, Winner, Xdinary Heroes, Younite, or Z-Stars. But yes, we need more groups. Bring ‘em on.

Minhyun goes on to talk about how there are two groups of trainees -- K group (Korean) and G group (Global), represented by blue and pink respectively, as well as two heavily mic’d flags.

“Please vote for the boy shining brightest!” the shiny boys chant in unison.

You can vote for whoever you want, whether K or G, though the editors do strongly suggest you vote K, and the votes will again be weighted the way they were in GP999 -- ie, Korean votes will be weighted as 50% of the votes, and Global votes will be weighted as the other 50%. If you want to skip past the voting instructions, skip to 5:20.

So, we look down at what looks kind of like one of those rolling-marble puzzles,

but it turns out to be the hallway through which all the trainees have to walk on their way to the Space Council Chambers.

Lee Da Eul (18) and Lim Jun Seo (17) from 143 Entertainment, the first to enter, are offered sparkly star stickers, and they decide to give themselves 1 star each, adding that they aren’t totally sure if they even deserve those one stars. Ok, politeness is sweet, but why go on this show if you don’t believe in your abilities? Anyway, these chosen two get to say “woah” and “eego buyo?” as the lights turn on loudly. They explore the Council seating, feel the soft seats for the top 9, then decide to sit in seats 4 and 5. (Later on, they’ll perform “Replay” by SHINee as their audition.)

Next to enter are the trainees from Wakeone, who, we see in a flashback, had a pre-show meeting with their sunbae, Kim Chae Hyun from Kep1er, who did really well on GP999. Chaehyun encouraged them to be confident on the show, saying, “If someone is very good but has no confidence then there’s no charm to them.” The five Korean trainees from Wakeone gave themselves 7 stars each -- these are Kim Taerae, Park Hanbin, Lee Jung Hyun, Mun Junghyun, and Park Minseok. Their confidence spurs Lim Jun Seo to go move to seat 9. Wakeone’s maknae, Mun Jung Hyun (17), sits in the chair for #1. (Later on, these 5 will perform “The Real” by ATEEZ.)

From here there’s going to be a lot of fighting as to who gets to sit in that chair, and I’ll be honest, I don’t care that much.

Next to enter is: Canada! One of the Wakeone trainees says “I would’ve never imagined someone from Canada” as the on-screen words say, “What will this Canadian trainee look like?” The combined impression from those two sentences is that people from Canada are unimaginably weird looking. Mun Jung Hyun wonders, “Will people with blonde hair and blue eyes show up?” Which, again, hilarious. Do they not know that Somi (IOI/soloist/future Star Master this season), Wendy from Red Velvet, Mark Lee from NCT, and a bunch of other k-idols are from Canada? Why do I know that, come to think of it? Why do I know that, and not where my keys are?

Also, whenever Koreans talk about Canada, all I can think about is the k-drama, Goblin, in which they talk about “Canada” as if it is a single city with maybe two restaurants, and where it is always the beginning of autumn, encased in a gentle fluttering of orange maple leaves.

We meet Seok Matthew (20), who is independant, and has given himself three stars. He looks a tiny winy bit like Xiumin from Exo to me. In an interview, we can see that he speaks Korean reasonably well. His sister got him into dancing and now he really likes it, and he came to Korean to reach his dream.

Then we meet Japanese trainee Takuto, born November of 2007, dressed for… boxing? He has boxing gloves hanging from a string around his neck and has a sweat band around his head. In his intro package, he speaks in sort of halting Korean -- hey, it’s a lot better than my own Korean -- and poses in power poses to show he’s a “manly man” (they translate it as “tough guy” but google translate says “manly man” and I think that’s funnier).

An up close shot reveals he has actually stenciled “Takuto” in English letters on his cheek with blush.

As the MNET editors mercilessly play the clip of him saying he’s a manly man ( “상 남… 상 남 자” /“Sang nam… sang namja…”) over and over and over again as if to teach us the proper pronunciation, Takuto looks around at the older bigger guys and makes a big heart over his head with his hands. All the other guys react by laughing and clapping, charmed.

MNET obviously isn’t showing everyone who comes in, as eagle eyed viewer will spot additional trainees in the Space Council who were not shown entering, but hey, I mean, whatever, it’s MNET. This has been edited so much it’s basically fiction.

In comes Wumuti (23), who has such a unique look to him that I was curious as to his background. My internet roving tells me that he was also on the MNET show Under 19, and that he’s an ethnic Uyghur from China. I was like, ok, what is a Uyghur? Turns out they’re a sort of Turkish ethnic group but mostly they live in Northwest china, and oh…. It’s really sad and awful, guys. The Chinese government is doing things like work camps and forced sterilization and stuff to try to wipe them out. I can’t help but root for anyone who comes from a background like that. Also, his name written in Korean characters looks cute: 우무티. Later on he’ll perform UN Village by Baekhyun.

So, Wumuti comes in and we see he’s given himself 6 stars. He makes a beeline for Chair 1, where he loses Rock Paper Scissors. Come on, can’t the guy catch a break?

Then we see a montage of trainees fighting for Chair 1, and again, I don’t care. They plank for it, thumb war, etc. Kum Jun Hyeon, 19, who has absolutely covered his nametag in stars to the point you can barely see even his name, is cheered on by his Redstart ENM labelmates as he nabs the chair. They have also gone completely HAM on those stars. (Later on, he’ll do Nunu Nana by Jessi.) I feel worse and worse for our initial two guys, giving themselves just one star.

Apparently, MNET isn’t interested in spending time watching each trainee come in this time, and that’s possibly for the best, but it does make it a bit sketchy that we see certain trainees.

For example, we meet the trainees from Taipei, who come in like this:

Left to right, this is Chen Kuan Jui, Qiu Sheng Yang, Chen Ren You, and Dong Dong. Kuan Jui, holding that bejeweled stick, has given himself 5 stars, while the others have given themselves 2 or 3 each. Mun Jung Hyun and Kim Tae Rae wonder to each other, is that a magic staff? Like the kind that Sun Wukong carries? (Sun Wukong, aka the Monkey King, is a famous character from Chinese mythology.) (Later on they’ll do Tiger Inside by SuperM.)

Kuan Jui marches up to Chair 1 and does a full standing split that would actually put Le Sserafim’s Kazuha to shame

And thus, he earns the seat.

I don’t know if the ability to put one’s ankle behind one’s neck is a something I need from a kpop idol. But I mean, good for him? I guess?

In come the trainees from Jellyfish, and Lee Ye Dam reacts as if someone has splashed him in the face with cold water, which, given that this is MNET, is not impossible. Someone says, “no way!” which is very odd, because Jellyfish always sends trainees to shows like this. I mean, Mina and Sejong came out of PD 101. And it’s not as if Jellyfish is doing all that well. They squandered Sejong, they murdered Gugudan, and their most successful group is Verivery, who are very sweet, talented, and hardworking but not exactly smashing sales records. So yeah, not sure what Yedam is so excited about.

We get a bit of a slow-mo to take in what we might reasonably be excited about: sexy Park Gun Wook (18).

To be clear: I don’t personally find him sexy; he’s way too young to seem sexy to me personally. I’m saying that that is obviously what he’s going for. He gives off big time Kang Daniel vibes to me, not really in looks but in terms of what he’s aspiring to. He and his fellow Jellyfish trainees are tall and manly, and Gun Wook already may have a fan following since he did pretty well on another survival show called Wild Idol. Gun Wook goes straight for Chair 1, and the other trainees comment on how muscular he is. He challenges the current seat sitter, a Japanese trainee named Riku, to a thigh wrestling game (??). Poor Riku -- we didn’t see him take the seat, but we sure see him lose the seat.

Time for an American trainee! I love that the Korean word for USA is “MiGuk” (or Bi-Goo, as it’s usually pronounced). Apparently it translates to Beautiful Country, which is so kind of them to say. I hope that the USA will do more things to earn that name going forward.

Out come Jay and Na Kamden. Jay, lovey, there are already enough Jays in Kpop --you have to think of a different name. It seems like Jay strongly prefers speaking English, but understands some Korean, while Kamden understands Jay’s English but prefers to speak Korean. Kamden appeared on Wild Idol as well.

Then we get a montage of tall global trainees, mostly Chinese. For people like me who don’t readily understand heights in cm, it’s good to know that 183 cm is 6 feet. So someone 188 cm is like, 6’2.

We also meet Cong and Dang Hong Hai from Vietnam, who later on will perform View by SHINee. Hong Hai speaks Korean, even if it’s with a really thick accent. It has to be so hard for the global contestants.

Then we meet the group from Osaka, Japan, and it turns out one of them is Keita, who the whole Space Council recognizes. He was on YG’s TreasureBox, the show that made the group Treasure, and then later on debuted with Ciipher. It’s not too weird he’d come on this show, as Ciipher is still, alas, in semi-nugu territory.

Ah, here is Yuehua, who are sending in 4 Korean trainees and 4 Global trainees, each entering via their respective doorway, which is so charmingly unnecessary. The Korean trainees come out in all black, while the “global” team is a bit more colorful in faded denim. If you’re not familiar, Yuehua is a Chinese company with branches in Korea. They co-manage WJSN with Starship, and manage Everglow outright. They also manage new boy band Tempest.

Anyway, then there’s a montage of the trainees finding each other handsome and saying they look like other famous people, capped off by the entrance of Sung Han Bin to the strains of tender piano music that presumably plays in his wake naturally due to his extreme handsomeness.

Even I can tell that he is in fact, quite good looking in that classic kpop way. He looks like he should be with SM entertainment, but he’s from STUDIO GL1DE, which doesn’t bode well for his skills. A guy who looks like that who could do a nice step-touch and could at least carry a tune in a bucket would get picked up by a more prestigious agency. But maybe I’ll be proven wrong on that…. Hmmm….

Cube’s trainees are announced, and we’re treated to a brief montage of Cube’s top artists, including BtoB, Pentagon and G-Idle. The camera pauses for a moment on Hui from Pentagon as the group performs Shine. The trainees talk about how talented the Cube sunbaes are -- how talented would their hoobaes be? Out comes Bak Do Ha, looking like a figure skater. (Later on he’ll be performing My House by 2PM.)

There’s still one more empty chair, and the Space Council wonders: what agency could sending the last trainee? It turns out it’s also… Cube?!? Bak Do Ha smiles and laughs to himself as the other trainees are wondering why this last trainee is being announced last and separately. They all immediately recognize him as Hui-sunbaenim from Pentagon, a group that debuted in 2016, has had some serious ups and some serious downs, and won a bunch of music shows as recently as a few months ago. This 29-year-old man who has already done his military service bows to the 15 year olds and introduces himself as Lee Hoe Taek from Cube, politely saying “I look forward to working with you.”

Guys. GUYS. I have a lot of feelings about Hui from Pentagon being on this show. I could talk endlessly about it, but the upshot is: negative. I have negative feelings about this. When Pentagon went on Kingdom, they actually kind of… fell in my esteem. Hui seemed so sad, like the group was just so sad, and Hui was pushing so hard to make his song remixes cool that he forgot to make them… pleasant to listen to, or fun to see performed. I think Hui is a genuine, top-tier talent when it comes to songwriting, producing, and singing. I love a lot of Pentagon songs, including ones people don’t talk about but should, like Can You Feel It and Sha La La. I am still angry that E-Dawn got kicked out over being a human being with a love life, and angry that it hurt Pentagon a lot, and heartbroken that a lot of that probably landed on Hui’s head.I get it that he’s doing this to get people to notice Pentagon. After all, their contracts are up in 2023, and no doubt they’ll want to leave that awful agency. Maybe they’ll pull a GOT7 and all leave together and stay together. So I get it that he wants to promote. But the thing is, I don’t believe that “all publicity is good publicity.” I think having people feel sorry for you will make them not feel impressed by you, or attracted to you, and I think that will hurt you. I think this was a big mistake and it makes me feel second-hand-humiliation. I hope I’m wrong. Sincerely, I do.

Anyway, this award winning songwriter and top-tier vocalist has rated himself 3 stars. Thinking about it, that was kind of the only move he could make -- he has to pretend to have a reason to be on the show, and that reason can only be to “work on myself and continue to improve to be the best Lee Hoe Taek I can be”, or something along those lines. To be Hui and give himself 4 (or more) stars would feel like an NBA star who came to dunk on a bunch of high school kids.

We cut to his first interview with the staff, in which he said that he had only gotten discharged from the military a week ago and feels shy in front of the camera. We get a brief montage of trainees saying they’re not sure why he’s here, some of them seeming a little irritated. Others say that it’s a honor to be on the same show with Hui.

Hui decides to challenge the current number-1 chair sitter (16 year old Park Ji Hoo, who says “I just got here!”) to a contest to win the chair, and bowing deeply and speaking politely, says he’d like to have a singing contest. Of course. He lets out a delightful musical phrase, and Ji Hoo stands there listening, then scurries away without singing a note.

There’s something so poignant about Ji Hoo saying, “I just got here” to Hui. He just got here in the show, he just got here in this industry -- he just got here on this PLANET compared to Hui. And here comes Hui to take the chair. I like Hui, I do, I just…. Ugh.

Ollie, who is representing China but seems quite comfortable speaking English, notices that the two sides of the room are really different, with K-group mostly wearing suits or leather, and G-group more varied and colorful. Yes, that is obvious. Can we have another season of Youth With You that doesn’t end with a milk scandal, please? Anyway…

Interestingly, Ollie can also speak a decently pronounced, if slightly halting, Korean in his interview. Zhang Hao can also speak a bit of Korean -- it sounds to me like he has a Chinese accent on his Korean, but it’s not like I would really know. But they’re both Yuehua trainees and it wouldn’t surprise me if their agency gave them intensive Korean language training. Love that. It’s really smart of Yuehua, and so truly helpful to their trainees.

0:23:00 The Judges Come Out

The room darkens and the trainees watch a short video about how they’re on Boys Planet now and are trying to become shining stars or whatever the shit. Turns out this year, there will be multiple hosts, and the viewers will be called Star Creators. The boys are nervous in general and in specific.

Time to meet the vocal master: Lee Seok Hoon. The trainees recognize him, and while they clearly respect him, they’re scared of him after his time on Produce101. He’s known for turning his head to the side and looking disgusted when someone hits a sour note, or for nodding appreciatively with his eyebrows raised when someone hits a good note.

Solji is the female vocal master and their enthusiasm seems bigger -- it’s Solji from Exid! Who doesn’t love her? Wrong people, that’s who. A trainee says that she’s been teaching at a University, and like, I hope so. I just want Solji’s life to be full of respect and comfort. She just seems like such a class act. I bet she’s an excellent teacher. And then Onestar comes out, who we might recognize from GP999. The trainees cheer for him and he makes them cheer more.

Then the rap master: pH-1 from H1ghr music, who introduces himself in rapid English. Several of the trainees claim to be big fans. I’ll be honest and say I’ve never heard of him. And I actually do listen to some k-rap. Per Wikipedia, he was born in Korea but moved to New York when he was 12. I guess he chose English as the lingua franca, but in that case, talk more slowly, dude. Anyway. Wikipedia adds, “As the three keywords he pursues in his music are truth, positivity, and experience, his work contains positive or honest messages, generally excluding references to drugs, money bragging and excessive "flexing", and explicit sexual content.” So, look forward to that. Or not. I don’t know what you’re into.

Dance Masters: From 1Million, Back Koo Young and Choi Young Joon. Look I don’t know much about much but I *do* know that 1Million is top tier when it comes to dance. So these guys are good. The trainees are psyched to see them. Also, Lip J, who is “the living legend of waacking.” The trainees say their judges/trainers are like the Avengers.

The judges immediately move into intimidation mode. It’s time to find out how the trainees rated themselves, star wise. The Korean group was more confident, overall.

What’s sort of interesting about this is that during GP999, the Chinese girls were far more confident than the Korean girls. That’s because Chinese culture isn’t as self-effacing as Korean culture is, in general. Kind of interesting, too, that they had the boys do this, but not the girls. With the girls it would have been such a mine field because it’s “unfeminine” to have faith in yourself. Anyway.

Japanese trainee Haruto interviews, in Korean, “Only a maximum of four stars were allowed, but almost everyone did whatever they wanted.” Yep.

The judges explain that their first performance will be the “Style Level Test”, during which their self-assessed star levels will be replaced by judge-assessed stars. Also, we learn that K-group and G-group are being pitted against each other; the team that wins more stars overall will get access to the next song that they have to practice a day earlier. Kind of cruel -- my assumption, without having seen the whole episode, is that the K-group will win, and the G-group will be at a further disadvantage, having one day fewer to practice and needing even more time due to language barriers. Why do I watch these shows? Am I mentally well?

Auditions Begin: 0:32:58

Finally, we get our first audition -- Team Jellyfish, who gave themselves all 4 stars. The trainees are suitably cowed; after all, Kim Dayeon from Kep1er is from Jellyfish. Kim Gyu Vin (who is a serious talent in his own right, and will later on perform Kick It) calls Park Gun Wook “Park Gun-Wook -nim” even though, as he notes, Gyu Vin is actually a bit older than Gun Wook. It’s just that Gun Wook looks so big and mature. Little boxer Takuto met team Jellyfish backstage and backed away from them as if scared, his hands in a fig leaf position, and they encouraged him to come closer and were nice to him and called him cute. Gun Wook is the leader, the all rounder, and is also apparently pretty nice. See? Kang Daniel vibes?

They’re going to be performing GBTB (Go Beyond the Barrier) by their sunbaes, Verivery. One of the dance masters actually choreographed this, but the boys seem confident to perform it in front of the choreographer. Fighting!

Left to right: Jang Yeo Jun, Park Hyun Been, Han Yu Seop, Park Gun Woo

My thoughts:

I’ll be honest, this is my first time hearing this song, and I’m ok not hearing it again after this. Just sort of… like what if you took all the NCT songs and threw them in a blender with an electric guitar? Sorry, VERRER. I still think Verivery are very cute and charming and my bias is Dongheon.

As for the performance: I have not a ton to say, because it was fine. All four of them did fine dance wise. Gun Wook stood out with his charisma and his big nice face. (I know the Korean ideal is small faces, but I like big faces.) I think Jang Yeo Jun danced a little bit better than the others, doing those weird leg kicks a little bit better, and Park Hyun Been rapped really fast and pretty well. Their singing was on key, too. I think Han Yu Seop was the main vocalist, but I actually think his singing was among the weakest -- there were times that I couldn’t even hear him sing. But they were dancing really hard. So for an audition for one of these shows, he was ok.

They ask GunWook to dance by himself, and he chooses a song by Seventeen. The dance masters warn him that it’s hard, but he’s unbothered. He has good charisma, great facial expressions, and sharp movements. As far as I can tell, he’s good.

The judges give them all the same score -- 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐ . They took away a star because the boys didn’t sing loud enough. The boys do their best to accept their fate.

WakeOne doing Glitch Mode.

The team comes out in a choo choo train formation -- sorry for that extremely technical term -- then introduce themselves (and I’ll tell you a little more):

Super Charming Anthonny! (He’s almost 19, from Japan, and got all A’s on Produce 101 Japan)

Refreshing energy Min! (He’s 22, from Thailand, and also went on Under Nineteen)

Powerful Dance Haruto! (He’s 18, from Japan, specializes in dance, and went semi-viral for complaining that his profile picture didn’t look like him, even tho it kinda does….)

After they introduce themselves, Haruto asks if they can have a moment to check their formation -- basically, they want to rehearse on stage during the audition? The judges let them, sighing about kids today, but everyone is mildly impressed that these foreigners are talking to each other in Korean. Min’s profile says he speaks Thai, Korean, Chinese, and English, but not Japanese, so maybe that’s why they’ve settled on Korean to talk to each other -- plus it looks better to the judges that they know enough Korean to communicate.

My thoughts:

I have to note that Glitch Mode is the kind of song I’m a bit over. I really like Cherry Bomb and Firetruck and even got on board with Kick It but this sort of shouting-in-unison, wandering base line, jazzy-melodic-SM-bridge when the singers can sing… I just am a bit past it. Sorry, folks. (Update: But I do love Ayo, so who knows anymore?) So I don’t know this song super well. I listened to it twice before watching the performance trying to figure out what the melody is and kind of failed. So. There’s that.

This was a really cute performance, though. I watched the full version on youtube before I watched the show version. All three of them danced well, with a lot of energy and great facial expressions.

Haruto obviously stood out for dancing, doing aerials and backflips and splits. He rolled with the fact that his mic pack fell out of his pocket right at the beginning, and didn’t let it show on his face. But his singing was egregious. He’s not a singer, and this song is incredibly difficult to sing even when you’re standing still. Also, his rapping wasn’t too bad.

Min did some high kicking and acrobatics as well, and his rapping was actually good. I won’t say his singing was good but it was on key as far as I could tell, which is an achievement.

Anthonny was the vocalist of the team and as such didn’t do any flipping around, but he sang the best. Like I said, overall, pretty charming. I have a soft spot for Anthonny for no darn reason. He’s just a cutie.

Interestingly, the version that aired on the show had most of the bad singing edited out. I think the show wanted Haruto to look better. The judges ask him about his dancing ability and he says he used to do ballet and proceeds to do a sort of crazy 30 consecutive ballet turns. Haruto is obviously a really good dancer, but so was Min, who also rapped well. And Haruto’s singing was very, very bad -- did I mention that? But they still gave him an All Star rating ⭐ ⭐⭐⭐ , which strikes me as objectively incorrect. I like him, you guys. I do. He’s charming and cute and a great dancer. He didn't sing well in his audition. That isn’t an opinion; it’s a fact. I think maybe 2 or 3 stars would have been fairer. Or maybe Haruto sang a separate song and did a lot better in it, but we didn't see...?

Min and Anthonny both get 3 stars 3 stars ⭐⭐⭐ , though the show doesn’t care enough to bother to show it.

Next up, at 49:00, is Team Taipei. I’ll put their photo back up so you don’t have to scroll back and forth.

Again, left to right, that’s Chen Kuan Jui, Qui Sheng Yang, Chen Ren You, and Dong Dong.

The judges immediately ask about the big stick and he explains he needs it for performance.

My thoughts: They perform Tiger Inside by SuperM. As always, I checked out the Youtube version first, before I watched the MNET edited version. I like this song just fine, if you’re wondering.

The flexible Chen Kuan Jui is 22. His online profile mentions he does ballet and that one of his hobbies is “stretching.” Yeah, that checks out. His dancing is very good -- little details like how he bends his fingers, stuff like that. You just know his toes are pointed inside those boots. That said, his vocal color is unpleasant, and his choice to retrieve and spin that dumb stick was…. You know…. A choice. A wrong choice, but a choice. Sorry if you liked it, but I found it really unimpressive. I’d rather just watch this talented dancer dance.

The blonde Qiu Sheng Yang is 21. He also was on Atom Boyz with Ren You, on the same team but eliminated much sooner than Ren You was. His performance here is not fabulous but not awful. He seemed uncomfortable to me, like he was overdancing a bit.

The distinctive looking Chen Ren You is 19. His online profile states that he’s a singer; he was on a Taiwanese reality show called Atom Boyz that sounds like a frickin’ hoot, but doesn’t seem available in full with English subtitles, anywhere. Ren You has one of those faces -- like GunWook on this show, or Sehun from EXO, or that one guy from Drippin, Junho. Like a face that’s just like HI, I AM A FACE. I dig it, don’t get me wrong. Anyway, his performance was good. I thought his dancing was purposeful, but sort of calm, and his singing was really good. On key, on rhythm, pleasant, all that good stuff. I’m rooting for him.

The delightfully monikered Dong Dong is 22 and represents Stardust Entertainment. I’m old as shit but I am still apparently 12 years old on the inside because I can’t. He apparently was on a Chinese reality show called The Coming One 2. Anyway, he does fine, I guess. On key, dancing is decent, it’s not awful. Bring it on, bringenon, brigggedon!

So yeah, I say Chen Kuan Jui was the best dancer in the group, and Renyou is the best singer in the group, but they were all basically ok. Of course, the MNET editing focuses almost entirely on the stupid stick, and Renyou’s excellent singing is edited out. They give Renyou 2 stars ⭐⭐ . Are we watching the same thing? Maybe his dancing was bad and I just can’t tell because I know nothing about dancing.

The judges focus on flexy Chen Kuan Jui and give him time to dance, and of course, he’s genuinely a very very good ballet dancer. He can get up with his toes and flip around and do all sorts of crazy stuff. But I really dislike his singing voice and I don’t know, I find him off-putting for no good reason. That’s not fair of me, but yeah, it’s where I’m at. Regardless, the judges give him 4 stars. ⭐⭐ ⭐⭐ We don’t see it, but Dong Dong gets 1 star ⭐ and Sheng Yang gets 2 stars ⭐⭐ .

Now we have a montage of G group groups: team Vietnam doing View, team Thailand doing Kokobop, and a Chinese group doing God’s Menu. The editing here is brought to you by MNET’s editing team, shown here at their most recent staff meeting.

We barely see any of these teams, so I watched their full performances on Youtube and will let tell you about it!

Team Kokobop:

A Thai duo who greet everyone with a sawadee ka. Zhang Hao from Yuehua (good looking guy with auburn hair -- we’ll meet him soon) tells Ricky from Yuehua (distinctive blonde guy, giving us Keifer Sutherland in Lost Boys vibes) that he wants to be friends with the Thai guys because he likes Thai food.

Winnie, from FirstOne Entertainment, claims his specialty is freestyle dance. He’s 24. I’ve seen his name spelled Winne, but more official sources spell it Winnie. He’s a member of nugu group NINE.i -- two other members of that group are on the show, but they’re Korean, so we’ll meet them later.

Nice is an individual trainee. He’s 22. He seems scared to look up or into camera lenses.

My Thoughts:

They perform Kokobop, and I watched the whole performance on Youtube. I’m a huge EXO-L (my bias is ALL OF THEM) and I really love this song, so I know it well. Winnie was actually pretty decent, singing a really difficult song. He was a little sharp here and there but really not that bad. He also looked pretty comfortable and hit the dance moves reasonably well. I never know what the Korean public thinks looks good, but I think his styling isn’t working for him. He’s wearing way too much foundation, that shade of hair color doesn’t suit his skin, and his contact lenses just give him an unearthly, fake look. He looks better in some photos I’ve seen of him online, like this one:

Winnie, I hope for good things for you going forward.

Nice was terrible vocally; the dancing was ok but the vocals were unacceptable. He also looked really, really shy -- like he can’t even make eye contact with the camera. I think he is way out of his league, bless him. You’re very cute, Nice. I assume you’re rich or you wouldn’t be here, so I hope your personal wealth cushions the blow when you are rightfully kicked off. (Smash cut to Nice making the final line up because he’s cute….???)

MNET editing was pretty kind, honestly. Nice can only benefit by being edited down. He’s like the shark in Jaws -- looks great as long as you don’t see him for long. The judges give Nice 0 stars, and give Winnie 1 star ⭐ .

Next up is a G-group team: Team God’s Menu

Oh, these poor guys. They look good in their outfits, to be fair, but poor guys. Non-native speakers of Korean, trying to do this song? As someone said online, “Their souls probably left their bodies when they found out they had to do this song.” I’m trying to think of a group who could cover this song and do it justice. Monsta X probably could. And I mean, of course BTS could. Probably Hui or Jeon Soyeon could do a cool remix that would suit their own teams. Regardless, this is not an ideal song for a rookie group of non-native Korean speakers.

I watched the whole performance on Youtube. I’m not obsessed with Stray Kids but I do like them (my bias is Changbin!), and I love love LOVE this song. Here’s my take:

Xuan Hao also appeared on Youth With You 3, which I didn’t watch. He ended in 62nd place and apparently also uses the name “Swen.” He says on his initial profile worksheet that God’s Menu is his favorite song, and maybe that’s one of the reasons that he did a great job here. His dancing was sharp when it had to be sharp and fluid when it had to be fluid, and his singing was on key and on the beat. He’s a better singer than I.N. anyway. Yes I said it: I.N. is not a good singer. Come find me and kill me for it, I guess? That’s the kind of thing you should end a human life for, right? Anyway, I like Xuan Hao.

Lin Shiyuan was apparently once a Cube trainee, but is now independent. He has the job of rapping Changbin’s intro rap. He doesn’t do very well. He very noticeably rushes the beat pretty much every time it’s his turn to vocalize in any way, maybe because he’s nervous, and his pronunciation is not great. He had definitely learned these complicated dance steps, but he wasn’t dancing them, just doing them. I could see the fear in his face, and when he wasn’t singing or rapping, you could almost see him counting the steps. When they were flipping the pancake, he didn’t look up to wait for it to come back down, which is 90% of the fun of that move. I can’t blame him and I’m not blaming him. Poor guy.

Feng Junlan actually did pretty well. His rapping was on the beat and sounded good, and his dancing was precise. He looked up when they flipped the pancake -- it makes such a difference. If the judges have any sense that have to have noticed how well he did.

When I tried to watch it to focus on Chen Liang, Feng Junlan kept stealing my attention. Liang did fine dance wise, as far as I could tell (but didn’t look up when they flipped the pancake!), but his vocals were very off key (if at least more or less on the beat).

The judges are kind in their manner, but not generous with their stars.

Xuan Hao gets 1 star ⭐ , which seems too low to me.

Lin Shiyuan gets 1 star ⭐ , which must be for the dancing.

Feng Junlan gets 2 stars ⭐⭐ , which seems low to me, but I’m glad it’s not 1 or 0.

Chen Liang gets 2 stars ⭐⭐ , which seems high to me.

Team View - Vietnam

My thoughts:

Obviously, like any sane person, I love this song.

Basically, none of their performance gets shown, but you guys, they were pretty good! Honestly, they sang on key and tried to keep their energy up and yeah, I don’t speak Korean but I know this song well and it didn’t sound awful. Check it out on Youtube and see for yourself -- compare their singing to that of Haruto’s and you’ll see what I mean.

The judges give 22-year-old Cong just 1 star ⭐ , which is cruelly low, and give 19 year old Dang Hong Hai 2 stars ⭐⭐ , which is ok, I’m on the fence between 2 and 3 for him. But it’s like the judges are watching these auditions from Minhyun’s space station. And maybe… I don’t know… is there a little racism? Just a little bit? Against these two Vietnamese trainees?

From what we can tell from the editing, the judges really dinged them for their pronunciation, as if that matters the most? As if the ability to sing on key isn’t, perhaps, more important?

In an interview, Cong says, in Korean, that he practices Korean every day. His pronunciation is pretty bad, though. You probably wouldn’t guess from hearing it that that was Korean, but if you listen closely you hear the Korean verb endings. It must be so hard for someone coming from a tonal language, like Vietnamese or Chinese, to learn a non-tonal language like Korean. I think it’s much easier for Japanese speakers to speak Korean -- they’re totally different languages but have similar sounds in them. (To be technical: Japanese and Korean are not related at all, but they have similar phonemes, which are the basic sounds you make when you speak. Korean has additional vowel sounds that Japanese doesn’t have, and there are other small differences, but if you can pronounce one language it wouldn’t be too hard to learn to pronounce the other.)

Then we get a mini montage about how much global trainees want to be kpop idols. Thai trainee Winnie says (in what sounds like very good Korean) that he wanted to be an idol since he was a kid. He turned down an opportunity with a very prestigious university, Chulalongkorn University (it’s the highest rated university in Thailand) in order to come to Korea and pursue this dream. -- in the audience, Kim Ji Woong, a 24-year-old individual trainee we haven’t met yet but who I assume is handsome,* mutters, “Can I go to that school in your place?” which strikes me as… super sad. Like, there’s stuff going on here we don’t know but can kind of guess.

*I have to say things like “I assume this person is handsome” because my standards of handsome/not aren’t always the same as everyone else’s. For example, I think that Chen is the best looking member of Exo. I think all of these boys are nice looking, and some of them are cute or charming, etc, but I can’t always tell who is going to be the “visual King” or whatever for a given season.

At 55:36, we see Qiu Sheng Yang (who we met earlier, in Tiger Inside), then his teammate, the flexible Chen Kuan Jui, then Osuke, a Japanese trainee we haven’t met (he’s going to do Crown), then Min, the Thai trainee who did Glitch Mode, all talking about how much they admire Korean pop music, all to the tender strains of gentle piano, and Koreans everywhere smile in satisfaction, I guess.

And that’s enough for one post! Part II will be linked here.

#Boys Planet #boys planet 999 #boysplanet #boysplanet999

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jodilin65 · 10 years ago

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FRIDAY, OCTOBER 31, 2014 Signing in on a happy and positive note. :)

Two nights ago I dreamed of a character in one of my past books driving along the road. She was something like a US Marshal in the story. Anyway, she was stopped by a uniformed cop and said something like, “Is this reason enough as to why you’re pulling me over?” Then she showed the cop her official ID and asked him if he was a rookie. He said he was and she offered a word of “advice” to him, though I’m not sure what that advice was.

In the end, the cop let her go and seemed a bit embarrassed. The US Marshal, however, seemed rather amused.

Last night I dreamed that I was trying to message Nane on Facebook when some ridiculous message popped up saying something like, “Our records show that you’ve been friends 25 times. No more messages will be allowed.”

LOL, I have no desire to message her for real, though. Our friendship is definitely over. I’ve been much too forgiving lately and I need to tone it down cuz that’s how one ends up in the same old cycle of shit.

Norma shared a picture of her parents’ wedding from 1928. My paternal grandparents were in it. It was cool to see despite the serious expressions everyone seemed to have back then.

Other than feeling lightheaded at times, I have been feeling a lot better. Still a bit overwhelmed with all the upcoming appointments and the thought of returning to thyroid medication, but my anxiety is virtually gone.

As promised, Aly left me a voice message this morning. It was cool how it said “Nebraska” next to the number. She has a very pleasant-sounding voice and sounded amazingly young and feminine, LOL. She actually sounds a lot like Paula who, like Andy, always sounded rather young. Her voice was higher pitched than I imagined. Given her tomboyish looks (not that this is a bad thing as opposed to a style preference), I imagined her voice to sound a little lower in pitch than it does. She sounds so sweet, though, and it’s nice to put a voice to the face of the person I’ve been friends with online since 2008. Unfortunately, the connection wasn’t perfect and some of her words were inaudible.

I’m loving that the stalker is being stalked by her ex (which she can’t quite fully let go of) and getting a taste of her own medicine, even if she’s been well-behaved for a while now as far as her own stalking habits go. Yes, Molly’s not only going back and forth with the “Do I or don’t I want him?” thing but so is he. In fact, he’s even giving Mommy Dearest a taste of her medicine as well and has been calling and harassing the both of them. At least that’s what Molly says. I saw comments on her Josh rants from Josh himself whining that she’s the one that called him, and something about her mother not believing the apartment he lives in is clean and how much money he makes.

A girl that lives at the group home (Julie) that Molly’s had problems with is somehow involved. I guess she was trying to steal him from her or he was interested in her.

The whole thing’s just too funny. It would be nice if he went to Texas and killed her. Then again, if she never goes back to her old ways, then she doesn’t need to die. But seeing her get the same shit dished back at her that she dished to others for so many years is hilarious. I feel no pity for her OR her mother. They really put a lot of stress on me for what seemed like forever, and the mother even had me a bit scared for a while there. I know how twisted the laws can be and how NOT on my side God tends to be. If He could allow me to be thrown to the wolves in Arizona, why not elsewhere?

Aly did once say that Molly told her that now she understands how I must’ve felt, but still.

Moving onto yesterday’s appointment, no, I’m not attracted to Dana. I like her style of dress and she has a great body, but she also has a lame face, pitiful hair, and she’s kinda short. I prefer them tall, with more than an inch of hair on their heads, and not blond either. I’m still amazed I was ever so attracted to Doc C since she has light hair and eyes. It’s that sexy smile that got to me, I guess. She is really tall too, and has a great body. I’m more of a face person, though, so even if her body were less than perfect, she’d still be a hottie.

The question is will she get my friend request AND accept it? That’s the thing; if I find I don’t get added, I won’t know if it’s because she didn’t get it or if it’s because she chose not to accept it. Unless she replies to the message I intend to leave her telling me not to add her, then I would guess she didn’t get it. I was thinking I’d write something like this:

Hi Doc,

I had to cancel our December appointment due to needing to find doctors closer to home as well as a few other reasons. Although it’s unfortunate that I have to give you up, I wanted you to know it has nothing to do with you personally. You were wonderful! Perhaps we’ll meet again on Facebook.

Anyway, Tom sat in with me during this session, which I prefer and appreciate, and even Dana liked having him in the picture.

As required of the therapists there, she tested me on some things. She asked me to remember 3 objects (I remembered them, even though Hashimoto’s causes memory issues), count in threes, spell the word ‘world’ backward, and name the last 5 presidents. She was surprised that I could name them. So was I, haha.

We discussed the goals that I wish to accomplish in therapy; not being so anxious and quick to worry about the what-ifs in life. As I also told her, the anxiety has been at a record low since all this shit started last July.

We talked about my fears of returning to medication after the horrible side effects I suffered through, and how doctors aren’t exactly gods who instantly know it all, and this can be a bit unnerving at times. Especially going into a whole new medical group with all-new doctors. Miscommunication problems with my old endo doc is part of what fouled things up. When Doctor D asked me how I felt and I said I didn’t feel any different, in hindsight we came to realize that she was asking if I felt better since starting the thyroid meds, not realizing I never went to the doctor because I felt bad or anything.

We talked about the best way to handle the doctors and what’s important to say vs. what’s not and what may only confuse them. I’m more nervous about the medication than I am about the doctors themselves. I mean, while I don’t expect them to be all smiles and laughs, I hope they don’t come off as cold, impatient and uncaring people. Still, they don’t matter as much as how the medication might affect me.

She wants to see me one more time before I see the new primary, and when I do see the primary is when I’ll cancel my appointment with Doc C and send her a quick message explaining that we wanted to get doctors closer to home, which is true. I just wish Dana was closer, too. Traffic was a nightmare yesterday! For now, I don’t want to cancel the old doctor without seeing the new one first. I’m going to a different building and a different doctor than Tom did, so if I’m not happy for any reason, I’ll run back to Doc C and just change endo docs.

On the way out she told Tom to tell me I’m beautiful and that I’m not fat, and Tom laughed and said, “And you make her believe me.”

LOL, right now it’s more important that I see that I can once again treat my disease without feeling like I’m gonna die than it is to be showered with pretty words whether I believe them or not.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 30, 2014 Took a couple of shots of our gloriously pink, polluted sunrise from the front of the house this morning and shared them on Facebook. Let me guess… the same few people will “like” and comment on them, right?

All’s been quiet next door. All I heard yesterday was Virginia talking. Pretty sure it was her anyway. I have a feeling that the next time we run into each other she won’t be as nice, not that I care. I have a right to live in peace just as Bob has a right to do his projects. People are strange like that, though. They’ll be quick to ask if they’re annoying you, but then when you finally do point out something, they’ve got a problem with it. Maybe not, though. I didn’t point out anything unreasonable (not that I did in Phoenix, either) and I didn’t ask them to stop. I just asked when he thought he’d be most likely to be working.

In almost 9 hours I will be seeing Dana and telling her all about how terrified I am to go back on thyroid medication or any other medication for that matter, and how I’ve never experienced such intense anxiety, even though it’s now been over a week since I’ve had to take any lorazepam.

Got a little worried for Tammy yesterday. She left a message saying she had an idea for my book. How about her and Mark fishing and finding a huge bag of pot? So I let her know I already had this year’s NaNo story plotted out. But then later on she told me this really happened and my first thought was uh-oh… damn pigs have implicated them or some shit like that. They didn’t, though. Tammy said they were “fantastic” and shined their helicopter light out in the water to make sure nothing else was out there, but that’s what they do anyway.

I’m just glad they didn't try to pin it on them. As I’m sure she’s heard, the more people they "nail," the further it advances their careers. So if they can't find the real culprit they often just grab whoever's convenient. I won’t even get into their little stings they’ve got going in various parts of the country where they love to write false speeding tickets and other traffic violations in various parts of the country, writing off people as drunk who aren't even close to the legal limit. They are a mostly corrupt and legal entity that is allowed to behave in such a way and be held virtually unaccountable for their actions while they’re at it. It is only when they cross the wrong person(s) that reality slaps them in the face.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 29, 2014 It’s to be in the 80s the next two days, then drop 20° the two days after that and rain. It’s been a quiet week so far except for someone having their carpet cleaned and the usual spattering of landscaping. It still wouldn’t surprise me if I heard from Bob this week.

It’s now been just over a week since I’ve had to take anything for anxiety, but the thought of returning to some kind of thyroid medication still scares me. I have so many damn appointments coming up over the next few months as I catch up on thyroids, eyes, teeth, etc., that it’s a bit overwhelming as a whole, so I just remind myself that right now – today – I don’t have to deal with any of it. All I have to do is try to keep busy and stay up as late as I can so I’m not too tired when I see Dana tomorrow.

Got an email saying that they screwed up their stock count and the chocolate living room set we ordered wouldn’t be available until after Andy's visit. So we canceled the order and picked out the same set in cream. I initially considered a stunning sectional in red, but I like this style better with its reversible chaise, and I prefer cream to chocolate anyway. Also, it turns out that it’s a couple of hundred dollars cheaper since it’s coming directly from Amazon, so it turned out to be a good thing.

Can’t believe we got a living room set for just $650! I mean it has no end tables or anything like that, but with the way we’re going to set things up, we shouldn’t need one. It’s just us two, so we don’t need much table space like a family would or a handful of college roommates would as well.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 28, 2014 The anxiety has definitely backed off quite a bit for nearly a week now. What a relief! Don’t know what the future may hold where that’s concerned, but right now I’m enjoying every moment that isn’t so damn heart-pounding.

It was someone else’s turn to annoy me with having their carpet cleaned as the cleaning truck is OMG kind of loud, but I’d rather deal with the weekday noise than have anxiety attacks.

I could’ve kicked myself for getting a soft bed for mice instead of for rats. I really should’ve read the dimensions! So now it’s their chew toy instead of a bed. They have the hammock bed, plastic tubes and soda boxes, so they’re not without a variety of places to sleep.

Filled out the paperwork Dana gave me the last time I saw her, and was it ever extensive! I should’ve just insisted she read my blog, haha.

Anyway, in the chilly 54° night, I walked nearly a mile and my heart, which sometimes still seems to beat a little too hard and too fast for comfort, didn’t go freaking out on me. I forgot my new beanie, but oh well. I warmed up soon enough. If I can ever get back on my bike, though, I’m not sure I’d want to ride at night in the winter. It’s just too damn cold! This may be California but it isn’t San Diego.

Later…

“Memories take us back. Dreams move us forward.”

Finally decided on The Other Side of the Nightmare for the title of my next book. At least I think it’s pretty catchy. Really wish NaNoWriMo started today! I’m ready to get writing.

As most people who know me know, I don’t believe in prayer. Nonetheless, I was asked what kinds of things I’d pray for if I did believe in it. Well, I’d never pray for anything unnecessary or unrealistic. I’d never pray to never get another cold again in my life. I’d never pray to find or win a million dollars. I’d never pray for Bob next door to never annoy me with his projects.

I would only pray for things that were necessary and very much desired. Not that I don’t desire a million bucks, but that’s not as realistic to hope for as it is to hope that A, Hot Doc not only receives the friend request I’ll probably send her and B, she accepts it. I don’t have to be friends with her and it certainly wouldn’t be the end of the world if we weren’t, but it would be nice and it’s a lot more likely to happen than it is for me to find or win a huge sum of money.

But… time has shown me that I don’t have to pray for what’s meant to be and that I cannot pray for what isn’t meant to be. Are things meant to be or not meant to be because some unearthly source has decided they should/shouldn’t be? Or is it all chance? These questions I cannot answer. I only know that if I’m meant to have something, I’ll get it. No need to ask anything non-human for it.

Last night I had a dream of living in a place with a super huge living room. I mean SUPER huge. It was bigger than this entire house. I wonder if it might’ve been attached to others, though. In the dream, it was either really late at night or really early. Tom and I were both up and it was dark out. I was playing music and I suddenly realized that others might hear it, so I ran to turn it down.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 27, 2014 As nice as it may look, I’m thinking I won’t add pics to next year’s journal here in Word. I’ll just bold the dates as usual and leave it at that.

Still no real anxiety since last Wednesday or Thursday, but I’m slightly worried about it being the start of the workweek given the fact that I’m mostly on days again and will be aware of how much time I will be spending alone. Not too worried, though. I have a lot to do to keep me busy, and knowing I’ll be seeing my therapist in a few days, the doctor in 17 days, and have more chill pills than I need, helps a bit. Sure hope I don’t have to take a chill pill, though, cuz that will make me drowsy and could interfere with the flipping of my schedule so I can make my therapy appointment without falling asleep on her.

Yesterday at 8:30, the hammering started. I thought to myself, you gotta be kidding! It’s 8-fucking-30 on a Sunday! But then I realized it didn’t sound right for being Bob, didn’t last more than a few seconds, and then I saw that they weren’t even home next door anyway. So it wasn’t Bob. I’ll be so fucking pissed if he’s at it during Andy's visit, though. SO fucking pissed. I’m sure I’ll have to hear it at least once during the week. Thank goodness I moved my computer to the other side of the house even if it can still be heard in there too, if I don’t crank up some music. I like it better in here either way. It’s cozier and more office-like, and my chair rolls over the floor easier than it did the carpet.

The sky pigs are at it again, flying round and round in circles. They’re not directly overhead but near enough to be heard. I asked Tom why he thinks there’s been so much of this lately at night, and sometimes during the day, and he thinks the cops got a new helicopter. So I guess they’re training fellow piggies to fly their new toy.

Been keeping a journal now for 27 years!

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 26, 2014 It puts a smile on my face to know how long I’ve been troll-free now. But I’m still cautious when it comes to some things, particularly my Facebook activity, even if there isn’t much of it. If there can be past trolls, there can be future trolls.

I’m excited about our new living room set! We were going to get it months ago, but things kept coming up. He was too busy. I wasn’t feeling well. Whatever. Finally, we decided to buy a gorgeous chocolate brown sectional with an ottoman online. I love how it’s a 3-in-1. I was originally going to get a couch, a plush chair or recliner, and a coffee table. But part of the couch has a chaise and the ottoman can be used as a coffee table. All I have to do is get a serving tray so that cups and mugs don’t tip over. We don’t expect to use it much since we sit at our computers a lot, but it will be nice to know it’s there and it will definitely be very pleasing to the eye.

I decided to go with fabric instead of leather, even though it has a leather base. Leather lasts longer, doesn’t trap as much dust, and is easier to wipe spills off of, but fabric feels oh-so much better. If it was warm here year-round leather may be a bit more tempting, but in the colder months, I’d prefer the warmth of fabric.

Speaking of climates that are warm year-round, Tom got an email from a guy he works with. The guy, along with his wife, used to go to Maui every year. Now they go every 4 or 5 years. Still, they love this place they stay at that he sent Tom the link to. It’s a condo right on the beach. During the off-season (when it’s available) it’s $200 a night. So if we spent 5 nights there, then you figure in the cost of cheap airfare and food, we could comfortably do a trip for around 2k.

My guess is that we’ll go to Florida to see my sister before returning to Hawaii, but it may be a few years yet. There is still much to do here at home, and again, just because we can afford to do most of it at once doesn’t mean we want to. After the shit we’ve been through, we don’t want to drain our savings no matter how fast we can build it back up.

Walked 3 rounds around the circle and returned with a pulse a little higher than I’d like and that I would think was normal for being in at least relatively decent shape, but I managed to calm it down without freaking or chill pilling - yes! The question is, could I have done that if Tom hadn’t been just a wall away at the time? Due to having a pulse that’s already elevated even when calm, I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to run or ride again. I’m definitely not comfortable with finding out just yet as much as I miss riding. It’s too soon and I don’t want to push myself too hard and rush things. Just the fact that I’ve gone 4 days anxiety-free (though it started to bubble up yesterday) and went out walking alone and calmed my pulse on my own, is a positive step in the right direction. Still, better to be cautious no matter how silly it may seem.

It rained here yesterday, though not too hard and not for too long. It started after we returned from Walmart. We’ve got sooo much damn food in here right now! So much variety too, but I can’t eat when I’m not hungry. Tom can, but I have to wait till I get hungry enough. Not that I’m complaining, but my overall appetite is still down. Even a 200-calorie meal is very filling to me these days. I think the average is 550 and up and most people will have more than 1 serving per meal.

My legs and hips are slimmer these days but I still have a prominent enough spare tire. Sucked in, my stomach is almost flat; just saggy.

Andy's neighbors are worse than mine! Then again, when you’re attached to someone with nothing but a very thin wall between you, even a relatively peaceful neighbor can seem noisy. The woman’s loud and noisy, especially when she first comes in, and this weekend their son is staying with them (who attends college in Boston) and is rude, disrespectful, and spoiled. He fought with his parents earlier. He said he could hear shuffling in the master bedroom and all that. Ugh, what a shitty thing to have to live with.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 24, 2014 I’ve now had just over 72 anxiety-free hours. Just in case anyone’s wondering. :) I’ve lived long enough to know that the past has a way of returning to haunt us, so I’m not going to assume it’s over just yet. But the longer I go without anxiety attacks, the more confident I will feel. I just hope returning to medication and things like that won’t press the ‘restart’ button on these God-awful attacks. Just thinking of returning to my dentist, even though she’s a real sweetie, is a bit unnerving, and of course bike riding is still out of the question for now as much as I miss it.

The only recent negatives are that I had that eye flashing again and of course… Bob. This time the flashing wasn’t as obvious or as long and it seemed to come more from the right side of my vision than the left. Definitely gotta see an eye doc over the next few months. I’ll be due for new glasses then anyway.

As for Bob, I still can’t believe what’s got to be at least an 81 or 82-year-old guy can generate such an annoying racket. At 9:30 he started beating on something with that damn mallet of his and I’m beginning to wish someone would get fed up enough to use it on him. Really, I don’t care that he’s got more energy than a teenager. I don’t care that he’s got 8 grandkids. I don’t care that he can’t sit still. I don’t care that he loves to do projects. I don’t care that it’s “normal” daytime noise. I didn’t come here to listen to it!! Period. I really miss having only female neighbors. I’m sick of the racket men make with their damn motorcycles, hammers, saws and other shit. But I have a feeling that if we’re still here when he and his wife pass, which could very well be well into their 90s at the rate they’re going, we’ll be in for something much worse.

I wasn’t going to bother with Kindle Unlimited on a regular basis since I can still get decent enough books for free, but it not only keeps one of our credit cards active and with a higher limit of credit, I have a much bigger selection this way. I’ve already got over 100 books and read 30% of one yesterday morning.

Reading makes me tired, so I don’t want to overdo it since I need to flip my schedule by at least 2 hours a day for my therapy appointment. It’s going to be tough on my schedule for the next month because just two weeks after therapy I see my new primary care doctor, then two weeks after that Andy visits. Can’t believe I’ll be seeing him in a month! I really figured we’d never see each other again. I have no desire to return to my home state which I haven’t been in since 1992, and don’t know enough people back there to see anyway since most of them have either died or moved. He, on the other hand, has several family members here in Cali. I just thought I’d be a bit too far out of the way being further north as I am.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 23, 2014 So Doc Sexy did refill the lorazepam after all, and I’m wondering if Aly likes me more than I realize. In her own blog, she said not to get her wrong. She's grateful for the friends she has, both in real life and online, and knows exactly who she can count on for support and advice in general, but wants MORE. She added that she knows she's likely making a big deal out of nothing, but can't help it. It's just important to her for some reason. But she's realizing that she should just give up. Not give up on eating healthier and moving more, but gives up on the hope that someone she knows will take a step beyond just showering her with pretty words. Then she said she thinks it's better if she doesn't finish that sentence.

I don’t know why I get the feeling it’s me she’s referring to. Maybe because it’s not mutual? I mean I like her a lot. I like her intelligence and all that, but while she’s not ugly, I’m not really attracted to her. I’m hoping she’s talking about someone in person or someone else online, even though I, like any human being, would feel flattered to know I was “crushed” on.

Back to Doc Sexy. I went to MyHealth to see if it would still say that my refill request was still pending, but it wasn’t. It said, “Prescribed by Dr. C on 10/16.”

I’m still surprised she hasn’t messaged me to ask why I have no Dr. D appointment, why I haven’t had the ultrasound for my thyroid or uterus, and why I’d want her to give me chillers when I’m supposedly supposed to be seeing a shrink for that. But I’d rather the pills than the questions because just having them around gives me a touch of extra peace of mind even when I don’t actually need them. Ironically enough, the anxiety I felt brewing backed off as soon as I found she’d refilled the chill pills.

Looked in my journal and she first prescribed them to me on July 16th, so it’s been more than 60 days (that’s how many are in the bottle). I forgot about this, but she said she thinks the anxiety was triggered by the trauma of ODing, which we now know was side-effecting. That’s the only thing I can come up with. BUT… running out of money is pretty damn traumatizing as well. On a scale 1-10, anger is a 7, depression a 9, and anxiety a 10.

Anyway, there are different kinds of fears when you think about it. Running out of money is scary enough, but not knowing if you’re going to die when you don’t want to die is a bit different and I am going to slam that Hoodster’s head in the door if he doesn’t stop yanking on the door! LOL, bastard knows damn well I can hear him. Guess he and his roommates want out now.

Thought about the crying thing Tom pointed out to me and how it can give people the wrong idea. I’m glad he pointed this out to me, too. I don’t want pity for my tears or to annoy anyone with them or to have them bring me more problems. I realize crying is pointless and serves no purpose other than to fog up my glasses. Crying alone or at funerals is one thing, but I don’t want anyone to think I’m trying to trick or manipulate them through my tears. I’m a straight shooter. I say what’s on my mind. But I realize that most people tend to disbelieve the things most people say and so I should take that into consideration. People have trust issues thanks to all the liars out there. I haven’t seen any tears from Tom in centuries, so why should he see them from me? No, I’m not him and he’s not me, as he would be quick to point out, but it still can’t fix problems.

Later…

The doctor did fill my lorazepam after all. I just didn’t get an email notification. Ironically enough, I felt better once I made an appointment with Dana and learned I had that refill, which proves again that the bulk of what I’ve been feeling is indeed anxiety. I’ve felt sooo much better these last two days, though, that I gained back 1.5 pounds. The better I feel the more I eat. I might even go for a late-night walk, though I’m not brave enough for the bike yet. Even when I’m not anxious, an anxiety attack can still creep up on you in seconds when you least expect it, and you DON’T want to get hit with one when you’re pulse is already elevated from exercise. I want to wait till I’ve gone a while without attacks as much as I miss riding. Walking won’t elevate my heart as much but it’s better than sitting on my ass all the time and I do love getting out in the fresh air.

Loving my new Kindle Paperwhite so far! I love how it tells me it thinks it should take me 9 hours and something minutes to finish the book I’m 6% through, LOL. It does have a landscape setting too, but portrait is fine. It has the same dictionary the Fire has where you touch a word and the definition pops up. It doesn’t blackout like the Fire but instead a picture appears with no light behind it. I also like how it tells me how many books I have on the device. Love how I can read in bed on the Paperwhite, then go to the Fire in the kitchen and it will know exactly where I left off in the book I’m reading!

There’s probably more I could write about, but I’m excited to start syncing and setting up the reader. I’ve got a free 30-day trial of Kindle Unlimited, so maybe I’ll check some big-name authors out. I’ve always loved Dean Koontz and James Patterson.

I had a dream my mother was still alive and she said something that pissed me off when I asked her a question. Tammy and some other woman were present in what looked like the bedroom of the last house they owned in MA. I stormed off and started smashing things after my mother pissed me off.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 22, 2014 So the chiller helped calm my heart and made breathing easier, but then what should happen? Oh, just that pity party I was determined not to throw for myself. I ended up feeling depressed as hell. Still am. I feel bad for BOTH of us. I hate putting this on Tom but there’s no way I could just pretend to him that it doesn’t exist. Sure wish there was, though, but there’s no hiding it. I know he wouldn’t want me to, but I still feel bad that he has to deal with this shit, too.

I sometimes think if only I could drive and keep a schedule. Getting out, meeting more people, and doing more things… might actually help, though I honestly don’t know where I’d go, what I’d do or who I’d meet. Or even if it would really help for that matter. But it seems something up there is determined to slam every door possible shut on me. I DO have a sleep disorder and I DO have a driving phobia, so I ain’t going anywhere beyond the park. While I’m still a homebody and prefer to just hang out by myself when I’m not with him, the simple act of meeting a friend for lunch that seems so normal is out of the question for me. I realize this every time I read about this sort of thing in a book or see it in a movie.

Gonna make this topic a private entry. It’s almost embarrassing to tell the world I’m that NOT with the times and that cut off from your ordinary everyday things in life. On the other hand, if I could’ve kept a schedule and driven a car all along, I’d be working full-time and probably wishing I could be home more and have to deal with fewer people. But a local friend would be nice at times. The thing is you can’t force friendship any more than you can love. You know how I say you find these things when you aren’t looking? Well, I wasn’t looking for Tom. I did actively pick up the phone and call Andy back in 1988, but I didn’t know a friendship would develop. I didn’t even know the guy was gay. Maybe another thing that made me hesitant for a while, even if some may say it was silly, was what may happen if the friendship ended. If people like Nane and Aly lived locally, all would be fine if we had a falling out. But what about people like Kim and Molly?

The biggest thing is I want to STOP feeling anxious and depressed every other day. I want the unwanted thoughts to stop and to be able to always focus on the positive things in life and the here and now. But… how? HOW? Why can’t I be like Tom? First I admired Tom. Now I envy him.

Later…

Last night was an absolutely shitty night. I want to write for the sake of it being therapeutic, but I don’t want to dwell on it and worry others needlessly, so I’ll just cut to the chase.

About 24 hours ago I took a chill pill and then fell into a deep depression. It was strange, shocking and just truly horrible. I cried on and off for hours. Every worst fear, possible or not, seemed to race through my mind. I began to believe I’d never get better and I still wonder this at times. I used to think as soon as I felt better that maybe that was it, it was over. But now I know better. It’ll be back. It seems to be an every-other-day thing. Having a good day today means the shit will hit the fan tomorrow, only most of what I feel is anxiety. Also, my problems are usually long-term. Like years instead of weeks or months, though I’m trying not to think of that or I’ll scream.

As a child as well as some of my early 20s I had bouts of depression though I was usually aware of the reason behind it. As an adult, when I went from turning my emotions inward to outward, the negative emotion I experienced most was anger. While I can still feel anger and while I’ve had my anxious moments in the past, I have felt more anxiety in the last 3 months than in the last 30 years! All negative emotions suck, but I’d rather be pissed than anxious. Still, I became more like a man in that department. Women tend to turn inward when they’re hurting or angry while men tend to turn outward. Well, I got a bit more “manly” in that aspect, like I said. I became angry, defensive and defiant in the faces of those eager to wrong me as opposed to one who would tuck her tail and run off crying. I never have and never would harm any innocent and unsuspecting souls, but I would lash out at the world in general in other ways in the past usually with hurtful words or some kind of stupid prank. I still may say things I shouldn’t at times be it on or offline, but I try not to make needless trouble for others or for myself.

On the 30th I’ll be returning to the Linder Psychiatric Group to see Dana, which I’ll call Dalia online. I’ve seen her once before. It’s just that I thought – or at least hoped – my anxiety would back off. I thought it was mostly due to the levothyroxine side effects, but now that I see that that didn’t have as big a part in it as I thought, though it did have some, I’m obviously not able to fight this on my own. Even if she can’t help me figure out what makes me tick, maybe she can at least make me tick a lot less often. I don’t know if talk therapy will be enough of a helping hand or if medication will be needed as well, but I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes to help myself feel better, even though I never expected to be dealing with this shit so late in life. So much for thinking only teens and 20-somethings go batty, LOL.

There are both therapists and shrinks at this medical building I’m going to, so if she feels I need medication, at least for a while, she can hook me up with someone there. I hate to risk an addiction, but if that’s the risk I must take, so be it.

I just want to nip it in the bud before it worsens. Right now I’m not disabled. I can still function in life. But I don’t want to let it get to the point where one day I wake up and say, “You know what? I’ve had enough of this misery. Today’s the day I kill myself and end it all forever.”

Tom and I went walking for a while after work. Nothing too strenuous. Just enough to keep in shape. I haven’t cared about the weight-loss part of it for a while now, but that’s ok. The anxiety’s doing it for me. I’ve always been like that. The better I feel, the more I eat. Anytime I’m anxious, depressed or sick, however, I don’t have much of an appetite.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 21, 2014 Haven’t heard from Nane and didn’t expect to, actually. No problem. I have my hopes set on an even hotter hottie who’s just a town away from me. :) Do I expect to succeed there? Well… I don’t know, but whether trying is a waste of time or not, I’ve got the time it takes to click “add friend” to waste.

Not yet, though. Not until it gets closer to my would-be appointment with her in December, unless anything comes up before then. The plan is to cancel the appointment sometime next month and then send a message briefly explaining that we had to get doctors closer to home and that I’d like to keep in touch online.

What I don’t get is why I haven’t heard back about my lorazepam refill request. Did she call it in? If she didn’t and she’s got a problem with refilling it, then why isn’t she sending me a message saying so?

Later…

For the first time since Sunday morning, I took a chill pill. I was fine last night with the exception of a little scare when I swallowed a piece of chicken funny. But it didn’t go beyond the normal feelings we all get when we get a good scare. Then I had waves of anxiety when I got up and my heart raced a bit in the shower. Tom came home after that and we walked around the circle a few times, and a couple of hours after he crashed it started picking up again. So much for hoping the wax cubes may’ve had a part in it, but I’m not really surprised. As Tom said, it’s not being caused by anything external. While there are things like heat and loud music that can elevate our heart rate or anxiety levels, it’s mostly coming from me and I’m fast losing hope of ever beating this thing. I doubt I would suddenly acquire some wacky chemical imbalance, especially without any kind of medication or foreign substance in me, so it must be something in my mind causing it that is perhaps deep in my subconscious.

Tom keeps telling me I just gotta believe and that as long as I don’t believe I’ll ever get better, I won’t. I get what he’s saying, but the longer I have this anxiety, the harder it is to believe. How do you tell yourself something will get better when 3 months later it’s still going on? The only difference is that I’m getting a little better at managing it. I’m not as quick to freak out over it. But telling myself I’ll get better after all this time is like trying to tell myself the sky is green when I see blue. I can’t just brainwash myself into buying into whatever I feel is best to believe. Logically speaking, things don’t stay the same forever. There are other things I thought would go on forever, but they didn’t. I thought we’d always be poor. I thought I’d be alone forever. I thought a lot of things. But I was wrong and hopefully I’m wrong on this, too. Right now, though, I honestly don’t think I’m tough enough to beat this on my own. I’m going to have to mention it when I see my new primary doctor and have her give me names of therapists or shrinks to recommend me to.

I believe the root cause of this is the side effects of the meds I was on, but why the anxiety is still going on beats me. And why telling myself I don’t need to be anxious over anything isn’t enough also beats me. I suppose if it were that easy no one would ever be anxious in the first place, much less in need of medication and therapy. Sometimes, though, I just feel so helpless that I want to burst into tears of frustration. I know crying can actually help us feel better, but I don’t want to spend my time throwing a pity party for myself either and fogging up my glasses.

Got a little drowsy and laid down for a minute… until I heard my rat “calling” me. Yeah, Hoodie likes to rattle the cage door when he’s ready to come out for his own exercise, along with the others, of course.

In other news, I now have a brand new Kindle Paperwhite on its way to me.

NaNoWriMo is just 10 days away and so I’m mapping out my plot for my next book and doing different things to keep my mind off of doctors, medication, anxiety and what-ifs.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 20, 2014 Tom’s blood work came back healthy – yay! When he got in from work he told me he was pretty sure we were smart to switch to this medical group, that’s how prompt and efficient they seem to be so far. They’re not as high-tech as Sutter and they don’t have MyHealth Online or an equivalent, but they do seem more reliable. He said he got a call at 10am regarding his blood work and thought, “Oh no, so soon? They must’ve found something really horrible in my blood.” But they were simply calling to tell him everything was ok. :) I’m glad one of us is healthy and I’m glad it’s him if we both can’t be healthy. I’ve always been medically cursed in some way shape or form, though not as severely as I could be. Still, better for me than for him to have problems. I think anyone would say that when it came to their true loves as would any mother would when it came to her children. No one wants to be the one to suffer… unless they have a soul mate or a child.

He teased me about eating hotdogs, chips and soggy potatoes with tons of salt like he does. Ew! Most of the hotdogs he eats are turkey dogs, but still, it’s weird that I do in fact eat healthier than he does yet am not as healthy. Life rarely seems to have much logic to it, though I don’t think diet has anything to do with Hashimoto’s like it can with diabetes.

His good health shoots down the “being punished even more for the sins of the forefathers because you didn’t have kids to pass the punishments down to” theory. He’s had a relatively decent life overall yet he never had kids any more than I did, and as I’ve pointed out before, I can name several moms whose lives make mine seem pretty damn decent, too.

The only real negative in my life is that damn anxiety. So much for thinking you only feel anxious if your life sucks. It can happen anywhere to anyone for any reason. I just never thought I’d experience it so intensely and this late in life. Knowing myself as well as I do I can honestly say it doesn’t compare to anything I’ve ever felt before during my worst times in life. It’s an anxiety you can actually taste as crazy as that may sound. It’s like a burning sensation in my throat and mouth, and I later read that it is a common symptom.

But the good news is that I only had to deal with it for about 1.5 hours last night and have been fine since I got up a few hours before he got in. After I ate 3 chicken wings and yogurt last night, the anxiety backed off. I also read that yogurt is one of the recommended superfoods for anxiety, so maybe there was a connection… then it hit me. Ironically enough –I know this is going to sound as farfetched as hell but when you get as desperate as I’ve been you’ll try anything to help yourself feel better – the anxiety started a few days after getting my first scented wax warmer. There is still no doubt that I suffered shitty side effects from the levothyroxine and that the anxiety stems from that nightmare, but what if there are other triggers? So I researched wax warmers and didn’t find anything on wickless wax, but since different people react differently to different things and I knew it couldn’t hurt to at least experiment a bit, I turned off all 3 warmers I’ve had running throughout the house and will see how I do. It seems like a long shot, but you never do know. The most important thing is trying not to panic when the anxiety bites and to do deep breathing, read, or anything to take my mind off of it.

I managed to do a few minutes of ab work and a few minutes of very slow jogging on the treadmill, all the while missing the hell out of my bike. It’s very hard to resist the urge to work out when you don’t just like how it keeps you in shape and helps keep you from gaining weight, but you’re addicted to it as well. Had a little burning in my calves, so the muscles were starting to break down. I will do my best to keep my body moving without my heart taking me on a mad race before I’m back on medication, because if I stop altogether the joint pain and backaches will return.

I requested a lorazepam refill online with my soon-to-be ex-doc, but haven’t received any verification of it being called in. I guess this means the lovely doc was either not working today, not willing to refill it for some reason, or maybe she did and I just didn’t get a notice. That site is not very reliable at all. Either way, it won’t be the end of the world if I don’t get it. Seems I had a dream of the good doc but don’t remember it.

Had one of the black bitch down in Arizona for sure. Something about Tom and I overhearing that her father had a stroke or a heart attack. Hmm… it’d be better if someone set her up and let her know what it was like to be legally railroaded for a few years. Ah, but her connections would protect her. The same ones she used to frame me in retaliation for the city complaint. Then again, that “connection” was booted from the police force, so who knows who’s covering her sorry ass these days. As long as she (or anyone else) doesn’t try fucking with mine again. Not even God could help them because I’m not the person I was in 2000. “Live and learn.” Very true quote.

Then I had this dream of renting a room somewhere. The rooms had no bathrooms in them so you had to go down this little hallway to a shared bathroom. I went to use the bathroom late one night and threw my robe over my naked body. As I rounded the corner to use the bathroom I not only realized my robe slipped open, exposing me, but I glanced into a darkened auditorium or large room of some kind and got a distinct feeling that I was being watched. I scurried back to my room and looked out the peephole. Nothing. Then I glanced through it again and saw an eye staring back at me. I hurried to get dressed and surprise the person, but when I flung the door open and was ready to confront them, they were gone.

Last night I got to thinking of Nane and felt a little twinge of guilt. Not because I got pissed with the way she was attacking me, but because I realized that maybe I was a little too quick to throw in the towel. After all, in her mind, she probably wasn’t deliberately trying to attack me or anything. I sent her a message on Facebook and will leave the rest to fate. I’m ok with hearing from her and I’m ok with not hearing from her.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 19, 2014 Might as well do an entry now before the shit hits the fan again, and it’s only inevitable that it will because my anxiety obviously isn’t going away anytime soon. Sure wish it would, but this is either something that’s going to take time to get rid of or at least learn to live with. I’d hate to think I might be stuck with this forever and that this could be my new way of life, but as Tom and Tammy both said, try to focus on the here and now and not the future. Yes, I suppose I should because I don’t think I could adapt to this thing if it was permanent and if I think about that too much it will drive me batty.

Andy asked if I’d like him to cancel his visit and I said NO! Worst case is that I may not feel so great, but I’m not disabled. It slows me down at times since I can’t do anything too physical until both my mind and body are treated and under control. As much as I’d love to get out in the fresh air and hop on my bike right now, my heart would only pound up a storm. Both anxiety and Hashimotos can cause the heart to race when exercising. I was worried at first about falling out of shape, but I’m so sick of feeling so lousy half the time that I don’t care anymore if I do. I can do minimal things like a few ab crunches here and there, but a 2-mile jog or bike ride is out of the question for now. Even just 90 seconds of jogging at 3.5 MPH causes it to pound. And no, I don’t mean normal elevations that we all get when working out. I mean booming, pounding ones that can get scary. Exercise has never made me lose weight but it DOES keep me from gaining, so I’m taking little walks as opposed to running or riding.

For now, I’m trying to get into a routine that will hopefully help me when the anxiety strikes. It’s so damn unpredictable. It doesn’t seem to matter who’s around, where I am, or what I’m doing, though I obviously feel better with Tom in the house, awake or asleep. Hopefully, I will sleep most of the time he’s gone tomorrow given where my schedule’s at right now.

I was doing great till around midnight when I felt the anxiety slowly seep into me like a sponge absorbing water. I tried to ignore it, but of course it wouldn’t let me. Reading helped a bit, so I’m going to try to make a point of doing my deep breathing exercises and reading a chapter of whatever book I’m reading at the time to help divert my mind from dwelling on it.

I felt pretty shitty on and off for 4 or 5 hours. One minute I’d feel fine and like I never had an anxious moment, then the next my emotions would be in turmoil. After an anxious spell, I would get both depressed and frustrated, missing the old me. I ended up being up for 21 hours. Just 1 hour after falling asleep, who should wake me up but Tom himself, when he thought an animal got trapped under the house. I thought it was thunder at first, as rare as that is here. He was walking across the trapdoor to the crawl space when he thought he felt movement underneath like something was trying to pry its way out. It was just the water running through the pipe, though. Anyway, he lowered a stick down there in case it was a skunk, not wanting to get sprayed. The stick broke and I woke up to the sound of it hitting the side of the opening. I highly doubt a skunk could get under there. Mice yes, but skunks and squirrels? Unlikely.

That wasn’t all to disturb my sleep that was so late in coming. I woke up with cramps, too.

I requested a refill of lorazepam online but don’t know if it will go through. If there are any questions as to why I haven’t seen my endo doc or gotten my thyroid scan done, I will at that point tell Doc C what’s going on and that I’m currently caught in the shuffle of the changeover (and still hope for a Facebook friendship later on, though not expect one). Tom’s going to see if he can get me into someone else sooner. Had I known I’d have those really bad days I’d have taken the appointment he had on the 13th. At this point, I don’t give a shit if it’s a man. I was doing what I’m trying not to do so much of and that’s looking into the future as well. In my mind I wanted a female doctor for when it came time to deal with female issues, figuring she’d be more understanding and all that, but this is a thyroid we’re talking about. Everybody’s got one (unless they need them removed), so the doctor’s gender doesn’t matter.

Tom printed papers from the online health site that contain my test results, plus something about the antibodies that specifically identify and classify it as Hashimoto's and all that in case there are any issues getting records transferred.

We also spoke with Tammy who offered words of support and encouragement, and then we changed the rats’ cage. Fortunately, I didn’t have any heart boomers there as that’s a bit of work in itself. Since my arms are rather short, he takes and dumps the tray of bedding and then I’m the one that wipes it down and adds fresh bedding, burrows, food, cheese, wood chews, etc.

Just when I thought Hoodie may stay on the small side I was amazed at how he suddenly sprouted into quite a big boy. Poor Andy, LOL. Does he realize just how big these rats are? I’ll keep them in their cage, though.

I like the new warmer I got for the bedroom and how it doesn’t have a light. I was worried at first that it wouldn’t get warm enough to melt the wax, but it worked great. I like having the ones in the living room and my office light up, though.

Never thought I’d say this but I almost wish it would hurry up and cool down so I could stop sweating so much. Don’t know if it’s cuz I’m fat or cuz of the thyroid/anxiety, but I get sick of being so warm at times. It’s not as easy to deal with as it was 15 years ago.

Later…

Below is the note I sent to Nane tonight.

We were friends for 4 years and then one day I let you go when your curiosity at least seemed to turn into what felt like a personal attack. But then I realized you weren’t deliberately trying to attack me or anything like that and I feel like a total shit for blowing up on you like that and I’m sorry, Nane, I really am. You’re a smart woman and so I’m sure that as you and Askim both know and understand, sometimes we lose our temper when we don’t mean to. Sometimes we say shit we shouldn’t. But we always come back in the end to those we truly care about and say we’re sorry. I’m sorry I was quick to throw in the towel like that and that I threw a good thing away (you), but I’m not going to lie and say I was sorry I got angry. I think it’s ok to get angry and upset as long as you can apologize or at least be willing to move forward from there since we’re all human after all. We all make mistakes and we’re not perfect.

Maybe it’s different in EU but doll collecting amongst women in the US is quite common. Nonetheless, a few days later I nearly trashed and smashed my entire collection to smithereens. I think I might just sell them off instead and get plants. Less shit to have to dust, and well, plants are a good thing and good for the environment, aren’t they?

Nane, my dear, I really think you misunderstood me on the race thing, though I can kinda get why/how you would. Ok… you speak of not caring about people’s origin as long as they’re kind, yet you specifically told me you wouldn’t accept a woman as a lover. So are you really as open-minded as you think you are? Not trying to pick on you, but just make a point. My husband wouldn’t accept a man if he were single and looking yet he’s not the least bit homophobic. We ALL have things that make us more or less comfortable but that doesn’t mean we’re haters.

When I said I didn’t want to see the Middle Eastern doctor it wasn’t because I feared he was some secret terrorist that would kill me or anything like that, but because their accents are very hard to understand. I also feel more comfortable with a woman. No matter how sensitive and smart a man may be, only a woman knows what it’s like to be a woman. My doctor, BTW, is Ecuadorian. This is just stating a fact, not race/nationality complaining. Not everyone who comments about a particular race/nationality is complaining. You told me your SIL is Colombian, but that wasn’t a complaint you were making, of course, just a fact. I think you assumed I was racist because I have less than kind things to say about ISIS and blacks that screw people with the race card. But this doesn’t mean I hate every single Muslim and black.

And remember how you went on about how your ex was black-American, the love of your life Greek, and Askim Turkish? Well, anyone who’s read my bio would know I’ve been “in the mix” myself. One woman was part black, part PR, one that was Mexican, and one that was Cherokee.

If I were “racist” and had a problem with those “not American” as you put it, then why would I bother with you? And why would you be upset with anyone if they may not like a certain person or type of person? Wouldn’t that be like getting upset with them for not liking certain types of food or music? I haven’t harmed anyone and I think that’s all that should matter as opposed to what/who we like or dislike. We’re simply not going to like everyone we meet or hear about, as I’m sure you know.

Regardless, I’m just sorry I lost it on you like I did. It’s no excuse, but I’m going through both physical and emotional problems that are scary as hell. It’s like the old me no longer exists. I seemed to have stepped out of myself and life as I knew it last July 9th. I don’t know how much longer it will be before I can be helped. I just hope I don’t end up suicidal while I’m waiting. I don’t think I will. I hope not anyway. But that’s not the point. The point is I’m sorry I blew a fuse and went off on you like I did. Whether or not I hear from you again wipes tears from eyes do take care of yourself and know that Frau Regenbogen is thinking of you despite her personal turmoil and hell and will always be here for you, even when she’s not in a great mood. The ratties love you, too.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 18, 2014 Surprisingly, I got my period today. I didn’t even know it had arrived. I had no cramps or anything. It wasn’t until I was cleaning up down there in the shower and saw the little stream of red that I knew I had it. Usually, I spot a day or two beforehand and have at least some cramps. It’s very light so far, but that’s to be expected without thyroid medication. I wore black underwear yesterday, so if I did have a little spot or two I wouldn’t know it.

I have felt fine now for 24 hours and 39 minutes. Sadly, I don’t know how much longer it will last, but I am enjoying it while it does. Last night I felt so good I almost didn’t want to go to bed because I just wanted to enjoy it. After feeling so awful for so long, I just didn’t know when the next time would be that I would feel good again and was reluctant to “fall asleep” on the feeling, so to speak.

Had a couple of moments before leaving and then at the store where I thought my heart would start booming, but nope. When I got up at noon and realized I felt ok, I wondered if I’d feel that way if it was Monday and I knew Tom wouldn’t be home for 6 more hours. He leaves at 5:30 am and doesn’t return till 6pm. During the week it’s almost like I live alone. But the mad money he’s making is allowing us to do some pretty amazing things. Like going to Sears and looking at furniture, modern washers/dryers, and the most amazing bed I ever laid on in my entire life. We could’ve purchased it all today, but we don’t want to increase our debt either. Better to leave several grand of credit open to an emergency, as we learned the hard way. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you should spend it all. I don’t like to make major purchases without having 2 or 3 times the amount of money the item costs.

Anyway, Sears didn’t have a very good selection of furniture and we didn’t want me to overdo it, so we didn’t go to any other stores. Besides, Tom wanted to install the Caddy’s new stereo and camera.

Later…

Now to finally catch up on a series of dreams I’ve had over the last few days. We were preparing to move from someplace and Tom was scrubbing the appliances when he stepped back to admire his word and said, “Isn’t that gorgeous?” I told him I didn’t think we should put as much effort into cleaning the place as we should packing and moving.

In another “scene,” I received a call from a woman about Tom’s blood work. I don’t remember what she said but I let her know I’d let Tom know what she told me when he got home. I can’t swear to it, but I think I started to say, “The heart attack that wasn’t really a heart attack” when he got home. Then I think he seemed to be in pain and said something like, “Not yet” or “Not so soon.”

Hopefully, this one’s a sign that I’ll survive long enough to see Andy cuz in the dream he was visiting and so were his sisters. His sisters didn’t seem impressed with the place (or me?). The only negative thing was that it started raining and I felt a raindrop on my face, suggesting the roof was leaking.

In another dream, I went to visit a woman with what I assumed were two human babies. I picked one up and kissed it and thought it looked a bit odd. Then I thought the other one, which was slightly bigger, seemed even stranger. Next, I went to use the woman’s bathroom and came back to find them jumping around in a large glass cage with these weird electronic milk bottles. After I saw one of the “babies” flash a full set of animal-like teeth at me and then read a sign on the front of the cage saying they came from Morocco and weren’t good for certain types of homes, I realized they weren’t human after all.

I unscrewed a clear round globe from the end of a curtain rod. It was a little bigger than a light bulb. Once I’d gotten it detached I noticed there were a dozen or so yellow jackets living in it. I panicked, dropped the globe, and ran for the bug spray.

In last night’s dreams, I had a bit part in a movie. After a makeup artist did our makeup, I was sitting at a long fancy dining table with about 6-8 other people when the lead actress came to say something to the person sitting next to me as well as myself. I don’t know what she said, but we nodded in response.

In another dream, Paula came to pick me up from someplace and took me to spend the night at her apartment. We chatted while lazily lounging on her living room floor for several hours before I crashed in her small spare bedroom on a twin-size bed. Then she woke me in the middle of the night to let me know she’d cooked bacon and eggs. This is something she would do, too.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 17, 2014 I’ve been indescribably horrible. Ok, so I know that millions have experienced both anxiety and the awful, sometimes terrifying effects of untreated Hashimoto’s disease, but I still feel that even as a writer, and even if some of you out there may get it, there are no words to describe the heart-pounding anxiety, frustration, helplessness and depression I felt for hours last night after Tom crashed, and then again this afternoon. It’s so unpredictable. It grips me when I least expect it and it releases its terrifying grip when I least expect it as well.

Your logical side knows you’re not experiencing anything life-threatening, but for some reason, you can’t get your brain to believe this and your body to act upon this fact by not freaking the fuck out when your heart rate elevates. I almost wish I were 10 years old. Kids always believe everything adults tell them. Nonetheless, having your heart race is scary. At least to me, it is. So trying to “stay calm” in the throes of a 110-140 heart marathon is not an easy thing to do at all. You sure feel like you’re going to die. Your heart’s pounding, you feel short of breath, you feel dizzy, you have the runs, your appetite is low, you can’t stop peeing, and your throat is scratchy and hoarse when you talk.

I have the extra weight to lose, mind you, but there’s something unnerving about losing it by way of illness, stress or drugs. If I were going to lose it I would rather do it the healthy way I would do it before my thyroid got as bad as it is today… diet and exercise. If I could somehow stand the hunger. For the last year or two, my goal has been not to enter the obese range, and guess what folks? Anxiety is a guaranteed way to get yourself denied membership into Obesity Land. Still, I don’t recommend it. I can see why thin, sickly people say they’d rather be fat and healthy. Me too! And at this point, I’d do ANYTHING to feel better. I’ll eat oranges every day. I’ll paint these walls gray. I’ll listen to gospel…

What I just didn’t get was why I’m having the same damn symptoms I had on the medication that was supposed to STOP these feelings. Tammy feels that if anything 75mcgs weren’t enough, but because I can’t take that much cuz of the side effects I need to be put on something else. I’m guessing I’ll be going to Armour, but I don’t know for sure yet. It’s pig thyroid instead of synthetic.

Tammy's damn right in saying I can’t work out for now. The more physical I get, the worse it is. I had to keep taking breaks to rest while finishing up the laundry today. We talked on the phone twice. I also kept in touch with Tom at work via email, as usual. I’m glad I’m shifting onto nights and will be asleep through his next workweek. It isn’t just the thyroid that’s been making me feel lousy but the anxiety as well, and I’m definitely less anxious when he’s home. If anything the anxiety is the bigger problem right now and that needs to be medicated too, at least for a while. The problem is I’m low on lorazepam so I don’t want to take it unless I’m totally freaking out. My appointment isn’t until 11/13.

I can do a couple of quick jogs for a few minutes on the treadmill while he’s here, but no racing through the park on my beloved bike for a while. I suppose I could still work my arms and abs, but again, quickly and minimally. I can’t spend 10-15 minutes on my arms, then another 10-15 minutes crunching. It’s easier to maintain one’s shape than to get there in the first place, so I don’t think I’ll experience much muscle breakdown with a few minutes on each part.

Last night my heart raced and my anxiety soared from around 8pm - 11:30. I read on my Kindle, then I crashed around 2:30. Fucking traffic woke me up a couple of hours earlier than I was ready to get up (yeah, I figured I was due for a wake-up call), and then from 9:30 till 11:30 I dozed on and off. I just did NOT want to get up and face the day. A few years ago I didn’t want to get up and deal with how broke we were; now I don’t want to get up to deal with how lousy I feel. But I knew I couldn’t hide in bed forever and didn’t want Tom to do the laundry on top of his main job, even though I knew he gladly would if he had to.

So little by little I did the laundry, but just transferring the clothes from the washer to the dryer could be a bit taxing on my heart. I had to lie down here and there, and I also kept going from hot to cold and was very jittery. Then it suddenly let go and my heart was fine and I felt calm. I hoped I’d be ok for the rest of the day, but it seized its grip on me on and off like it was an invisible evil entity having fun tormenting me until a couple of hours before Tom got in at 6:00. I just hope it’s not going to get worse and pick up in frequency before the 13th!

Tammy doesn’t think anything’s punishing me any more than Tom does. She said bad things just happen. She’s done things she shouldn’t have. I’ve done things I shouldn’t have. But that doesn’t mean we’re being punished. I know, I know, it’s just hard to feel that way at times. Especially when things are at their worst. I really appreciate Tammy being there for me via phone when Tom’s at work. I feel bad that I felt too bad to focus more on what’s going on with her and the girls. The girls just got a nice 2-bedroom apartment. I’m happy for them since they don’t seem to mind apartments. Tammy wants Tom to call her since I was pretty shaken up and in tears, and well, that’s just the nurse in her, I guess. Even if he’s heard of and is aware of all that she might say, it will make Tammy feel better and there’s nothing wrong with giving her some peace of mind after supporting me like she has.

For now, we’re going to see how I do over the weekend. If there are any problems he’ll take me to urgent care on Monday.

I just hope I live to see Andy and my sister and my husband retire someday! I’d love to be near her now in Florida, but our situation is different than hers and Mark’s so we couldn’t just up and move there anytime soon.

Later…

I have felt wonderful for the last 7 hours that I almost can’t believe I practically felt like I was going to die earlier in the day. The difference between how I feel now vs. then is like night and day. I just wish I could feel this good ALL the time. But any second, my heart could take off on a mad run, kicking my anxiety up along with it. My thyroid’s going to make my heart do whatever it’s going to do with or without Tom’s calming presence, but him being around definitely helps with the anxiety end of it cuz that’s coming more from me than my piece of shit thyroid.

The rats are enjoying their new plush beds, though one isn’t plush at all and should be easy enough to wash. The hanging tent, though, has a furry lining.

We were actually discussing possibly going from rats to a cat once these guys are gone. Only we’d have just one cat and it would live a decade or more instead of two years or less like rats do. Rats aren’t as much work as dogs, but they are more work than cats. Cleaning litter boxes would be much easier than cleaning rat cages, and the cat wouldn’t have to be let out of a cage for exercise and supervision. I don’t have to watch the rats every second like a hawk, but they are rodents and they can burrow into things and chew things, too. Cats can jump, claw and chew as well, but they don’t have the razor-sharp teeth rodents have. Romeo and Sugar could go anytime now, but Hoodie’s got quite a bit of time left, so we have time to think about it. This would be a good size house for a cat, too.

Had to kick on the heat this morning, but the next two days should be warm.

The only sucky thing is that the stand I got for my Kindle, which is a great stand, is for newer, slimmer models. Guess it’s time for a basic Paper White.

Due to being busy and feeling shitty I still haven't documented what dreams I remember having over the last few days, but I have taken notes so I don’t forget anything. Maybe tomorrow I will get to them since I won’t have any cleaning to do. We might go out and look at furniture, but that’s about it.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 16, 2014 It’s been amazingly quiet these last two days. It even rained yesterday and was super cloudy. Today it’s partially cloudy, but no more rain is expected. I’m wondering if we might need heat late tonight, though.

Now to answer a few questions I’ve gotten on random sites before I continue… no, my robot can’t vacuum the whole house at once. It is too big for its battery to last the whole house, but it can do it all in two runs.

No, I’m not worried about ISIS taking over the US. There are too many of us and we’re better armed than most countries. Meanwhile, they’re just a tiny little group of nutjobs running around the desert on the other side of the world. Sooner or later they will be stamped out of existence. At least most of them will be any way for a while.

And no, I’m not worried about Ebola. Where there are a few hundred deaths a year from that, there are over a million from traffic accidents a year. There are 7 billion people on the planet. If a billion die from it and there is still no cure, then I’ll start worrying. I’m much likelier to have a stroke or a heart attack. Maybe even get cancer.

Do I miss Nane? Not particularly. This is probably because this time I was the dumper and not the dumpee. I think the one doing the dumping is a lot angrier and more fed up than the one getting dumped, but I also know Nane. I’m not important enough to fight for like I fought for her when she dumped me for a few months in late 2011 during one of the most horrible times of my life. I’m sure we’ll think of each other from time to time, but I’ll never hear from her again. I’ll talk to her if she absolutely wants to talk to me since it’s not like she tried to kill me or anything, but honestly, I don’t expect to hear from her. And no, she’s not the stalking, pranking, vindictive type either. She won’t bully me or those I know or read my blog. I do still get the second-highest views from Germany but I can’t say who it is. Whoever it is isn’t registering on TIP, just on Blogger, and Blogger doesn’t give details. It just says the country and not any city info or anything like that. Too few views to be a bot, though.

I hate it when I get followed by authors, famous or not, on Twitter. I know they’re just doing it in the hopes of me buying their books and that they’re not the least bit interested in mine.

I like having my office in the laundry room where the built-in desk is much better than the desk we bought that’s in the living room. I got a little desk fan that makes a great sound machine that drowns out most landscaping sounds and it’s less visually distracting in here too, since there’s just one window as opposed to the 8 huge ones in the living and dining area. I still don’t appreciate my 80-something neighbor who’s supposed to be quiet in a retirement community running me out of there, but sooner or later they’re going to die and something much worse is going to end up over there. How do I know this? you ask. I just do. I know my luck when it comes to neighbors and it’s not usually very good. He’s been quiet since the day we chatted, though. I just hear little sounds of movement but who cares about that. I will eventually have a computer I can use anywhere, and the desk will be good for other things. The one we bought, that is.

I grabbed a wax warmer that doesn’t have a light. It uses a warming plate instead. I thought this would be ideal for the bedroom if it works well enough. I’ll find out on Saturday!

Just like I want to get some new sleeveless loungers and dresses for next summer, I want a few pairs of PJs for the winter. Something with long pants and long sleeves so I don’t have to wear my bulky robe so much of the time. Cooking and cleaning aren’t so easy in that thing, not that I cook that much.

While I hate change I still like to try new things. So I got these cappuccino potato chips and sweet potato Triscuit crackers. The crackers are just so-so, but the chips are good. Tom thought the chips were so horrible he wouldn’t even try the crackers, LOL. Said they tasted like dirt.

I just have such mixed emotions about all the OT! Yes, I love the money, but I hate not seeing my husband when I feel so horrible. I see him for two hours in the evening and two in the morning depending on my schedule. It’s like he’s only here to eat, shit, shower and sleep during the week.

Later…

Last night’s dream wasn’t very fun. It was like Mom and Dad throwing me away in Valleyhead all over again. Before this, I was in some apartment on an upper floor. Like the 3rd or 4th floor or higher. It had a really cool layout. I was to stay there for a night or two, but I guess I was in some kind of custody because what looked like a female officer was present. I said I wanted the bedroom with the enclosed balcony off of it and she said that would be ok because it wasn’t a ground floor.

Then one day I was sitting in the back seat of my parents’ car. Dad was driving and he was asking me questions about bike riding while mom sat silently in the passenger seat. I spoke of the terrain being rougher in certain areas.

They drove me to this strange “Valleyhead” and after they left I entered a moat-like body of water that “slipped into” VH. I pulled myself out of the water and realized I was naked and had no clothes to change into and I also realized I’d left a set of 3 keys in my parents’ trunk. Keys that were very important. Before the “students” left for vacation they locked their bedding and other belongings in storage bins and now I was unable to get into mine. I contemplated calling them but realized they couldn’t get back to me with the keys soon enough.

Desperate to find some clothes and a blanket, I began hunting inside the building and at one point I entered a huge room that was divided in half. On one side, everyone was in their bunks asleep. I peered underneath the wide doorway, which was several inches from the ground, in hopes of finding a blanket I could snatch. All I saw, though, were neatly folded stacks of clothes and personal hygiene items like hairbrushes, tampons, makeup and toothpaste.

I asked some young, dark-haired girl for help and she said, “I told you where they are. They’re in that dark corner.”

That “dark corner” was on the other side where no one was asleep yet. I quickly snatched up a blanket to cover myself with, and then I saw some guy carrying a bunch of colorful coats. Thinking I could use one of them, I followed him to where he was going to place them on a long rod. All of a sudden I realized I’d left my purse in the other room and wasn’t so sure I should take the time to wait around to grab a coat.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 15, 2014 Between feeling like shit and writing about Nane deciding to attack me like she did yesterday on Facebook, I haven’t really had time to get into Tom’s appointment and what’s been going on with me.

I may have to work on this in spurts just like I’ve had to do the cleaning and laundry in spurts.

Tom said that the male Arab doctor that he saw was friendly. As in professionally friendly. He didn’t come off as uncaring as Dr. D or anything like that. This is the doctor Nane had a problem with my not wanting to see. The REAL reason I didn’t want to see him wasn’t that I feared he was some secret terrorist that would kill me, but because I was afraid I would have trouble understanding his accent, and I also prefer a female doctor. No matter how sensitive a guy is and no matter how smart he thinks he is, only a woman can know what it’s like to be a woman. I don’t want my health in the hands of one who has to guess and imagine how I feel. I will see him, however, if Tom continues to like him and I don’t like the female Ecuadorian doctor I’ll be seeing. Meanwhile, he gave Tom some pills for his high BP and we’ll see what the blood work says.

But for Nane to have called me racist is just ridiculous. Do I like Muslims as a whole? No, I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I hate every single one of them. Funny how she went on and on about her ex-husband being black-American, the love of her life being Greek, and the guy she keeps taking back after they break up is Turkish. Well, I had a one-nighter with a girl who was part black, part Puerto Rican, a 6-month relationship with a Cherokee woman, and another one-nighter with a Mexican girl. So I’d say I’ve done my share of race-mixing as well. :)

Decided to spend the next year or so selling all my dolls, even though, contrary to some people’s beliefs, doll collecting among women truly is very common. Maybe it’s not in Europe, but it is kind of pointless to have them sitting around collecting dust, so I think I’ll eventually sell them on Amazon. I’m going to be stubborn about the prices, though. If I don’t make a profit, ok. But I want at least what we paid for them. Even for Peyton, the doll I just got. She was to complete my trio of 18” dolls. I had a green-eyed blond, and an Asian doll with dark hair and eyes, and so I wanted to add a blue-eyed redhead. I will let people know once they’re up for sale.

Still more to write about regarding these scary spikes in the heart rate I’ve been having, but I’ll get to it later.

Later…

Looks like my sister was right about the spikes in my heartbeat being caused by my thyroid. I thought it was unlikely because I’ve got hypothyroidism and not hyperthyroidism. But from all we’ve experienced, researched and learned over the last year, that’s almost certainly what’s been causing my problem as opposed to medications or anxiety. Don’t get me wrong; the whole thing has made me anxious as hell on top of it all. Having your heart suddenly race is terrifying and you can bet your ass it’s going to cause anxiety and maybe even panic attacks.

The problem was when they upped me from 50mcg to 75mcg. See, my thyroid isn’t 100% dead. If it were I’d have gained a ton of weight in just 6 months and not 30 pounds over a decade. Some days my thyroid actually works a little better on its own, and the problem comes in when the pituitary gland starts screaming commands at it to work harder than it can. I was put on meds not because the gland is dead but because it works harder than it can. But the pit gland isn’t smart enough to know that it’s being overworked by being told to work harder than it can. It’s like a runner who wants to run at 8 MPH but can only run up to 6 MPH while some drill sergeant is screaming, “Run faster, run faster!” This is what causes the scary spikes in heart rate.

The 50mcgs showed my thyroid was still a bit underactive, but 75 made it go haywire. Then when I stopped the meds that caused my thyroid to dip and once again the pituitary is throwing a shit fit over it. So we don’t just need to regulate the thyroid gland to but shut the pit up as well. They’re pretty much intertwined. The 75s made me feel worse than not taking anything at all, but I definitely need to get back onto a much lower dose of something.

Last night after Tom crashed I had some scary spikes. One had me almost considering waking him up and getting me to an ER, but I just did some deep breathing and reminded myself it was not life-threatening. Just scary as hell.

This morning I was hoping to sleep in till 10:00 so I’d have fewer hours alone, but I awoke at 7-fucking-30, unfortunately. Not wanting to get up and face whatever tortures my heart was going to put me through, I lay there for over an hour. Then sure enough, I felt a wooziness come over me, then boom, boom, boom! I jumped up and took a chill pill, but fortunately, it settled down fast and I haven’t had any other spikes during the day and evening. Who knows what’s in store for me later on, though? It’s unpredictable, though heat from hot food or hot showers can trigger it.

Never was I more grateful that I don’t drive. Yeah, it’s a pain in the ass at times having to rely on Tom to finagle his schedule so he can take me where I need to go but to think that this could’ve happened while I was driving is enough to spike my heart rate all on its own!

I started to fear I might have a case of tachycardia that could be dangerous, but we’re still pretty confident my heart itself is ok. When Tom’s asleep or at work I email him when anything happens. When I got up, this was waiting in my inbox from him:

I have done a little more research on heart rates and I found a post from a doctor responding to a woman with similar questions (I know she doesn't have your symptoms but it does show that a variation in heart rates is not a big deal). The woman is 44 and said that during a workout her heart went from 130 to 165 to 57 to 120 to 130. She also said it has been as high as 215. The doctor said variations between 57 and 165 are okay but 215 is getting a little too high. He recommended that she have her thyroid checked. In this case, I think the doctor suspects hyperthyroidism is causing the extremely high heart rate. The point is your heart is fluctuating between something like 80 and 140 which is a lot less than the 57 to 165 that the doctor wasn't even worried about. I think as long as you take the chill pill on days that I work you will be fine until your appointment. If there is any risk at all the doctor will send you to a specialist within a few days of your appointment. Of course if there were any real risks your last doctor would have already sent you to a cardiologist, doctors are very worried about being sued so they are very cautious when it comes to heart issues. Remember when I had chest pains they had me do a stress test for my exercise-induced asthma. I think the reason they were concerned with me was that I had the pain but no other symptoms. Because you have a number of different symptoms they are able to tell that it is not an issue with your heart.

My old endo doc was confused from the get-go cuz when she asked me how I felt and I told her I felt the same, I think she was under the impression that I’d always felt tired when in fact that was actually one symptom I never had. I have just as much energy as I did in my 20s. I think that the miscommunication and my not knowing enough about it back then to understand things is part of what got me all messed up, not that Sutter as a whole is a good medical group to be with anyway. The office staff is just a nightmare to deal with. Tom’s going to request the records from them in a week or two.

Last night I was looking out the window longing to be out there on my bike in the dead of night when the park is asleep and no mutt walkers or traffic is in my way, but I knew that I couldn’t be because I didn’t want to risk having a spike when my heart was already elevated. I miss not having to give a second thought to such simple little pleasures in life. These spikes suck to have if you’re just lying in bed or sitting still in a chair, but you DON’T want it to happen while exercising! We talked about getting a gear wheel for my bike since it’s gearless, or even a motorized attachment that’ll push the bike uphill for me, but that’d be like cheating. What’s the point of working out then? I just want to wait till they stabilize my thyroid and, thus my heart. I miss being out there! Not just to keep in shape but because biking is fun and I love the fresh air, especially since I work at home. Tonight I just did a quick run on the treadmill after Tom came home. Enough to keep my joints and muscles strong, but not to overdo it. Definitely don’t want to push it at this point even though I’d love to hop on the bike, feel the wind in my hair, and just zip through the park.

I knew it, though. I knew I didn’t just suddenly develop a killer case of anxiety independent of the meds, naturally a bit anxious/emotional or not. But I’m really surprised it wasn’t all due to the meds themselves. 75mcg is still way out of the question. That dose not only spiked my heart big time but it totally fucked up my brain chemistry. That feeling of suffocation and utter doom and despair was horrible. I also knew I didn’t “overdo” my workout. Sorry, but fat or not, I’m in pretty good shape.

I really want to live to see him retire and maybe move to Florida and have more family around, etc. Really wish Andy, Tammy and Aly lived locally at times.

All in all, Hashimoto’s is a shit disease to have. Really thought I wouldn’t have to deal with these kinds of things till my husband was retired and didn’t have to juggle his schedule to help me deal with it. I definitely feel more comfortable with him around during this rough patch and was glad to take a nap for a couple of hours this afternoon. That made it seem like I was alone for two fewer hours.

The OT money is awesome, though, and we just got some stuff on Amazon, mostly for the car and rats. A new stereo, a camera to put in back of the car, some bedding and plush beds for the rats, and a Kindle stand for me. This way when I’m lying in bed reading, these little hands and short fingers of mine don’t have to hold this surprisingly heavy device.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 14, 2014 Just like Nane dumped me in late 2010, a few months after we met on a language site, it’s my turn to dump her. It was a fun 4 years, but I don’t need the fucking judgments. Let her serve as an example, folks, that no, I wasn’t kidding. You wanna ask me something out of curiosity, fine. You want to judge and critique me and twist the things I say, I’m gone. Period. Life is too short to waste time on people like that when there are so many other people in the world. Although I’ll cherish the fun chats we had, I don’t need this shit from her or anyone else. If I wouldn’t take it from someone right down the street, I sure as shit ain’t taking it from someone on the other side of the world that I never met no matter how good-looking they may be. You’re a mouse click, a phone call, or a door knock away from entering my life, and it also takes those same quick actions to remove you from it.

First and foremost, I don’t hate Nane and I don’t wish bad things on her or anything like that. But I’m me just like others are who they are and I don’t make any apologies for being who/what I am. I simply avoid those I don’t like as opposed to sticking around and trying to change them. It wasn’t that Nane had gone so far as to try to “change” me, but when I get called racist for not loving each and every human being on the planet, I get a little fed up. If having a beef against those who run around savagely beheading people or playing the race card when someone pisses them off makes me racist, then fine.

It actually started with her asking about my doll collection. She said she wondered why I collected these dolls and figurines. I kind of blinked in confusion and thought to myself, well, why not? Still not getting just what it was she was asking, she goes on to say that she wonders if something’s missing from my childhood. Well, it certainly wasn’t dolls! We had plenty of material things and that was one of the few things we actually didn’t lack growing up. It was the love, lack of attention, and acceptance that was the problem. I’m not one to try to “hold onto my youth” because I know that youth can’t be ours forever anyway. Furthermore, there are TONS of adult collectors out there. I never could understand all the questions and problems with adult doll/figurine collectors. It’s like with Halloween. Sure more kids are into it than adults, but adults do have Halloween parties. Still, if you collect coins, stamps, or bottles no one ever thinks twice about it and no one questions you. As soon as it’s dolls, though, there must, must, must be something wrong with you if you’re over 12. Sorry, though, folks. I’m not going to trash my collection cuz you guys may think it’s “weird” or something from my past that drives me to collect. I’ve been an avid collector since 1999, with a 5-year break when poverty struck us down hard. I sold many pieces due to either getting sick of them or needing the extra money. I don’t plan to collect much more but that’s only because I’m sick of dusting them and running out of space. Not because you guys think I’m too old for this shit. I could actually make a lot more space; it’s just that I don’t want these shelves too cluttered.

Again, though, there are numerous adult collectors out there. No, not as many kids, but enough. Some prefer porcelain only, some like vinyl, some like lifelike baby dolls, some like Barbie, some like clowns, some like ethnics, etc. I have a mix of everything but clowns.

So even though she says she’s sorry if she hurt my feelings, I told her no, I wasn’t hurt, but I was feeling like she was crossing the line from curious to judgmental. I make no apologies for liking what I like as knickknacks and home décor anymore than I apologize for what types of food and music I like. Not everything has some grand reason behind it. I collect dolls because I like to. I’m fat because I have Hashimoto’s and hate the hunger diets bring. I don’t like to travel much (regardless of how we’re doing for money) because it’s a pain in the ass. I don’t have many in-person friends because it’s not important to me to have them. I don’t eat oranges cuz I hate the taste. I sometimes listen to new-age music cuz it relaxes me. See? Not everything in life is so complicated. So if these things seem strange for a “grown-up woman,” that’s your problem.

Back to the race thing. She comes out and says, “You are a racist and that’s why I’ve been staying away the last few months. You’ve been making comments about people not being white or American.”

She missed the point, but again, it’s easier to just not bother than to try to explain to someone who should know me better by now. Making an observation doesn’t necessarily make one racist. Any idiot should know that. If I decide I don’t like you it’s going to be because of YOU, not where you’re from or what color you are. I think this stems from my saying that it’s hard to get an American doctor here because so many doctors come from other countries as they know they can make so much more money here.

Do I have a problem with immigration as a whole? You bet I do and I have no qualms in saying so. If it weren’t for so many damn immigrants coming over here and hogging our resources, my husband probably wouldn’t have had to spend so long on unemployment. How do you think it made me feel to see my husband, with so many years of great work history, automatically get passed over to one who’s either younger, blacker or from somewhere else because we’re living in a time when society feels the need to favor non-whites to make up for how rough non-whites had it in the past? Like my husband is responsible for that? Gimme a fucking break!

If my husband were single and looking, a man would not be acceptable. Does that make the guy a hater of gays? Absolutely not! His wife’s best friend, a gay guy that’s like family that she’s known all her life, can vouch for that. He’s been over his place to help fix his TV and whatnot when we all lived in Phoenix and he had no problem with that whatsoever. Or his many visits to the house we had. Or the visit he’ll be making to this house in this state next month.

Nonetheless, that’s how our society is. If a woman prefers a woman doctor, she’s a sexist. If a person speaks out about blacks rioting when they don’t get their way, she’s a racist. Does my not liking oranges mean I’m prejudiced against those who work in citrus groves?

Well, think what you want folks, cuz guess what? Jodi’s staying Jodi. I’m nobody’s liar and I’m not about to conform to what’s politically correct or normal. I don’t strive to be unique and I don’t strive to be normal. Just me, is all. I’m not selling my dolls. I’m not going to hold back on saying what I have to say about certain people’s actions and personalities simply because the person may be black and it may offend people. If I acquire a rare illness or disease I’m not going to hold back on that just because you might not get it and therefore insist I’m making it up as an excuse to get out of whatever. A journal is to document our lives and experiences and the people we deal with throughout life. Whether or not anyone agrees with it or likes it is strictly up to them, but I’m not going to let it influence what I say and how I live my life. It’s ok to think I’m strange, but just remember that before you go picking on someone for not liking the way some groups handle things, remember you have your own limits and restrictions as well. Some of you do, anyway. I could’ve sworn Nane said she’d never date anyone who wasn’t fluent in German. But it’s not ok for me to prefer American doctors? It’s not ok that I’m not quick to embrace all the Muslims in the world after the way they’ve terrorized us and love to chop people’s heads off all in the name of their precious and fictitious “Allah?” snorts Who the fuck does she think she’s kidding?

Doesn’t matter. I told her we’re done and then I deleted her. Will she fight for me like I once fought for her when she was the one to dump me? I doubt it. That’s not what I’d want but I am curious as to how she’ll react as my dumping her sinks in. I think right now she’s probably in shock, never thinking I’d dare do such a thing and that I’d just keep playing her games and taking her shit.

I dreamed of sitting in a predominantly black courtroom. A young black girl, who was in on assault charges, was telling the judge how she wasn’t going to just stand there when some girl went to punch her in the nose. The judge, who I couldn’t see from where I sat, but who also sounded black, spoke in a calm but matter-of-fact voice. I couldn’t understand a word she said, though. Then the girl started making these loud shrilly sounds and I wasn’t sure if they were sounds of anger or if she’d burst out in this hysterical fit of laughter or something.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 13, 2014 They say if you’re gay, you’re confused. They also say if you’re bisexual, you’re confused. Lastly, they say that if you’re a lesbian, you’re still confused. My point? Those that think they have it all figured out and can assign these neat little labels and properly categorize people and the things they feel are probably the ones that are the most confused.

Like, well… me, for example. I was so sure I had the random anxiety attacks figured out. First I thought I could slap a nice neat little label saying “levothyroxine” on these attacks and that this would be the simple and correct term for it with no other possibilities in between. Then I thought I could change or at least add a label saying “vitamin D.” Then after yesterday when I supposedly overdid my workout, even though I’m an avid rider, I thought I could add yet another label saying “overdid it.”

Once it happened when I simply reached down to pick something up off the bathroom floor last night I realized that not only does one label/term NOT fill all, but I ran out of other possibilities to add to my list of labels unless “I’m all out of ideas” or “I give up trying to figure this out” counts. Even sitting at the computer my heart would sometimes race over 100.

“How come my heart didn’t beat like this when I used to run?” I asked Tom, and he thinks it did. Did it? I guess it might have, but as he said, I wasn’t so hyperaware and obsessed with paying attention to it back then.

Still, once the incident in the bathroom happened was when I officially gave up trying to narrow it down and crush it right out of my life, whatever it was. Sometimes giving up can actually be the way to success, but I think that once my fear turned to anger like it did last night, that might’ve been a turning point for me. I don’t take no shit from people and I ain’t about to take it from any of my body parts either. As Tom reminded me numerous times, the heart won’t beat faster than it needs to, fluctuations are actually a good thing from what he’s read on WebMD, doctors listened to it when my BP and pulse were high and no one ever worried about it.

Tom said that without unemployment, though we would still get that, we’d be ok for 7-8 months if I wanted him to quit his job so we could focus more on my health and getting these anxiety attacks under control.

No! I adamantly told him. Because if my gut instinct is right about something up there “punishing” me for finally getting what I want in life, be it any kind of a God or whatever, then that’s actually what it wants. God would LOVE to see us throw our lives away, and while our chances of ending up in a serious jam are much lower than a few years ago, it’s still risky and that would only add to my anxiety. As it is we were charged 3-fucking-hundred dollars for the paramedic call. Things add up. I thought that was free like when you call the cops, though! I guess the only time you don’t pay is if they take you to the ER and admit you.

Today has been just the opposite of yesterday. I chill-pilled when I got up at 7am and have been fine ever since. In fact, I’ve been amazingly calm and it’s probably due to that little white pill. At this point, I don’t care anymore. I don’t care if it’s my left toe ring or my right pinky making me feel better! I’m just glad to feel relaxed for a change. If I have to take chill pills regularly, at least until I can get established with new doctors and a new medication setup, so be it. Then once I’m settled in with that I can slowly do away with the happy pills. Now, for reasons I may never know, they definitely seem to help and I appreciate having them.

Maybe menopause really is setting in, which can have similar effects. I’ll bring all this up with my new doctor (damn, I’m gonna miss Doc C, and if only Sutter wasn’t so messed up!) Tom doesn’t think it’s any one thing and was probably a combination of the meds and other things, and realizing he’s right, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that I need to learn to live with these things because there’s no way to know for sure if they’ll ever go away on their own. I suppose that if they could start on their own, they could disappear on their own, but why??? Why did they suddenly decide to start on July 9th in the first place? What was it about that day, just one day shy of our 1-year anniversary here?

Trying not to panic when my heart suddenly takes off galloping is hard as hell. It’s like resisting the natural urge/reflex to punch someone that’s punched you. How do you just get punched like that and just stand there without striking back? No matter who the stronger, fitter, slimmer, angrier one is, isn’t it only natural to fight back and defend yourself? Well, for me, it is very hard to resist the urge to panic when my heart races. Trying to ignore it and stay calm is damn near impossible. I don’t know why it’s so scary (an adrenaline rush?) but it just is. It’s terrifying and hard to adapt to. The only good in this shit is that it might actually make going back on meds less scary if I know that’s not the only culprit and that the bulk of it really is just random anxiety. It sure is keeping my weight down too, so no need to worry I’m going to get so big I can’t even tie my shoes.

Tom should be heading to his own doctor’s appointment right about now. I hope he’s right when he says all they’ll do is tell him his blood pressure’s a little high and he should lose some weight. He’s going to start dieting soon. If his thyroid is ok, then it should be simple enough as long as he can stand the hunger and cravings. Hunger is more an issue with me than specific cravings, but I expect to just stay in the 140s.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 12, 2014 On this unusually windy day, I have officially given up on ever feeling like my old self again. She’s gone forever. In fact, I sometimes wonder if I’m going to live much longer, especially since every time I’m pretty sure I know what’s going on with me, I’m back to square one with nothing but questions. Tom keeps saying I’m fine, everything’s fine, nothing’s wrong, but then why did I have another “heart explosion” on the bike? Tom was with me and we stopped and sat on a bench, but still… did I really “overdo” it? Even though I was going slow coming up the hill, Tom said he could see me pushing and straining and that while I may be in better aerobic shape than he is, my leg muscles aren’t as strong as his. I’m also on a gearless bike. My heart didn’t make it to 160, though it probably came close at 140-150. When we got back I had another case of the partial runs where it wasn’t quite what would qualify as being the runs, but not solid either.

Now I’m wondering once again if the vitamin D really caused my heart to race in the shower last Friday or not. And why did I have a weird feeling when I woke up a few times for a minute or two in the middle of the night as I often do? I know our bodies shoot adrenaline through us when we wake up, but when I placed my hand on my heart, it didn’t feel like it was racing. Sometimes it almost feels like it’s racing or is about to take off racing yet it doesn’t.

beats head in frustration I just don’t understand anymore. I just don’t. Was it both a case of my overdoing it and the vitamin D? My thyroid? Anxiety? Something else? Tom doesn’t think it’s any one thing and that makes it all the more frustrating and scary because that means I’m fair game to these beat-outs anytime, anywhere. It’s like my whole body is messed up. My period’s 10 days late and I don’t know if that’s because of stress and stopping the medication, or if it’s menopause setting in or both. Like I said, I just don’t know what to think anymore.

I feel fine right now, but how will I feel in a few minutes? How will I feel in a few hours? Tomorrow I’ll be alone again, worried, wondering… is my heart going to suddenly take off on a mad rampage? If this shit keeps up I’ll have to see a specialist for sure. Both a cardiologist and maybe even the shrink Hot Doc wanted me to see. If it’s anxiety, then I may need to be chill pilled for a while. If it’s my heart, which I doubt, then that too will need attention. Again, hearts don’t usually race when there’s something going on with them so I’m not too concerned with that. We learned, though, that we don’t need a referral, after all, to go to a specialist. With our plan, we can just go, even though it’ll cost $35.

My thyroid’s definitely gotta be moving somewhat cuz I’m down half a pound after a day of eating candy, chips and all kinds of stuff as I always do on weekends. I still have the energy I had when I was young and still tend to dash from room to room, but I didn’t get any other exercising done yesterday other than that and walking around Walmart.

I never even got to mention my chat with Bob or some other things because I’ve been either busy or feeling crappy. Other than feeling crappy, life is great. I almost feel like I’m being punished for this happiness, though, and believe me when I say I’d rather be broke than feeling shitty. Yet it’s like something’s punishing me for “going home,” as funny as it may sound, and doing well financially. But just because we have money doesn’t mean we’re rich, and just because we got to live in a nice house/neighborhood doesn’t always mean it’s peaceful.

Later on, I’ll write about the things I haven’t written about yet. This entry’s long enough anyway.

Later…

And now to catch up on the rest of my life since I plan to be busy tomorrow cleaning and worrying about my heart freaking out on me if it isn’t actually doing so. Really, really hope today’s race from hell was just cuz I truly did overdo it on the bike, and that Friday’s was due to the vitamin D.

I forget what day it was (Thursday?) but when the saw and hammer started up AGAIN just 15’ away, I’d had enough. I didn’t want to sound complaining, though. I mean sure it’s great to be active and do things and all that and I know he has a right to do his thing, but not if it’s disturbing those around you, right? Just because you may want to build things doesn’t mean I should have to hear about it. I don’t care if it’s “normal” daytime noise or not. Unless you’re doing necessary repairs or yard work or something like that, your wanting to build your daughter a birdhouse should be between you and her and not on me as well.

So I went over there (surprised to find him in a gray T-shirt instead of the usual white one) and asked if he had a set schedule these days for woodworking that I could go by on account of my work. He said no and that he did projects all the time for his kids and grandkids. Yeah, that’s the problem. He’s the Jesse of the park, though I can’t deny that there are a few others around here that would be worse to live next to. He said he might not do anything for a month between projects but doesn’t have a set schedule. In the last several weeks, though, he’s worked more than I’ve ever heard him in the entire 15 months we’ve lived here.

I told him if I had an idea of when he’d be likely to be working I could move my office on the other side of the house (even though some of his racket is so loud it can be heard there, too). He asked what I did and I told him I do artificial intelligence work and some writing. Then he said he’d let me know when he planned to do a lot of sawing and asked what was it about this (his woodworking). Are you kidding? I thought to myself. I know the guy’s got hearing issues and he did, in fact, wear a hearing aid, but how can he be so stupid? Common sense should tell the guy that running loud power tools and beating the snot out of things with hammers and mallets just a matter of feet from the wall of one’s house is loud, distracting, and annoying to those who aren’t deaf. I just politely said it could be heard over the videos and recordings I’m often paid to watch and evaluate (which is true). Again he just said he’d let me know when he planned to be at it again and that’s fair enough. I don’t want the guy to stop living his life; I’d just like a heads-up if he’s not going to tone it down a bit anytime soon.

When we talked he was just finishing up the birdhouse he was making for his daughter. It is BEAUTIFUL too, though painted with dull colors. Very detailed with a shingled roof and many pieces. No wonder it took so much time and noise to make. I thought it would have about 7 pieces and be half the size it is.

All I heard the next day, Friday morning, was a couple of minutes of what sounded like a sander, then nothing ever since. For now, I’m in the office/laundry room, and hopefully the people on this side won’t get wild on me before I can get a portable device. I highly doubt they will, though, as the couple that lives in the gold house has never been into the woodworking thing the whole time we’ve been here, and the green house just has a lady that never goes anywhere and rarely has company.

Bob asked how I was doing and I told him I’ve had my rough moments and to say hi to Virginia for me. I asked how many grandkids he had. He said 8 and I said, “Wow,” with a smile all the while thinking that he should’ve been sterilized a long time ago for my sake.

Tom replaced the valve in the master toilet because it was leaking, and Windows still sucks shit because I’d already gotten viruses after just a few uses of the Windows PC he got from work that I didn’t even know about until he discovered them when he used that computer. He used it to try to see if I could run my big Mac from either the Windows PC in the laundry room or the living room where it was set up until a few hours ago. The refresh rate was too slow, though, so we decided to just throw the Mac in here. We also decided that when I get a compact and portable laptop/tablet, we’re going to pay the extra money to get a Mac so I can be safer. Windows is just so fucking buggy I honestly don’t understand why anyone on earth uses it.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 11, 2014 Although I feel slightly anxious even though my heart’s not racing, I haven’t had any serious heart racing, now that I suspect the vitamin D had a hand in tormenting me along with the other shit I was on. Unless I need a chill pill, which I’m hoping to avoid, I’m determined not to let anything other than food and drinks pass these lips till I see my new doctor next month. It’s the only way to know if anything is going on that’s not chemically induced. Other than the Hashimoto’s and stuff we know of, I don’t think there’s anything else going on with me, but this way I can have a better idea.

Tom still thinks my heart has been around 160 during past workouts; I just didn’t make a big deal of it back then cuz I wasn’t “scarred,” so to speak, by the levothyroxine experience. And I say it was rarely that high and it also never took forever to return to normal like it did on Wednesday.

He has a point when he says that while the vitamin D may’ve elevated it, I then became anxious over it. I don’t doubt that. That’s why, like he said, he was able to help me get it back to normal quickly enough the second time when I was able to reach him right away. Chemicals don’t know, after all, when you’ve got someone to help talk you through it.

Anyway, Gail and Benji are really Merle and Benji. Andy, being 4 years older than I am, was able to tell me a little bit more about these two from the 70s. As I told him, after explaining what little I remembered of them during our summer stays at the beach in Connecticut, I’m not looking to contact either of them. I just wondered who they were.

I also couldn’t swear under oath that Merle really did abuse Benji. Maybe he was just a spoiled brat taking a tantrum and all Merle was doing that day in the bedroom of their rental was simply yelling at him. If I had to guess, though, she probably was at least smacking the kid.

They were connected to Andy's sister. Merle actually used to be Marla’s SIL. There were two sisters, Arlene and Merle. I don’t remember the name Merle, much less why I thought her name was Gail, but the name Arlene struck me as familiar when Andy mentioned it in the VM he left me. Arlene was beautiful and blessed and she married a rich guy. Merle, on the other hand, was cursed and ugly. Andy's physical description of her was exactly what I remembered it to be except for her weight. He described her as thin, but I thought she was fat. A difference of perception perhaps? Sort of like how some wouldn’t consider me that big while others would consider me a pretty good size.

The only other thing he told me was that Merle babysat a lot. I guess Arlene and Arthur decided they weren’t going to let a kid stop them from living, so they often pawned him off on Aunt Merle so they could run off and do things.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 10, 2014 Looks like I just might’ve made a major breakthrough in what’s been making my heart race its ass off. I ate a protein bar and then took my chewable kiddy vitamin along with my vitamin D gel pill. As I was swallowing the pill I got one of those bad feelings we psychics get that we always try to ignore and convince ourselves is just us being “silly.”

I was cooking my mini pizza and all was fine 15 minutes later save for a bout of the partial runs, as I call it. A half-hour later things were still fine. Then I was just finishing up my shower and rinsing the water out of my not-so-long hair. When it’s soaking wet and all the curls are pulled straight it’s maybe a third of the way down my back right now. As I was turning the knobs to stop the water was when I realized my heart was booming again. Breathing deeply and trying to keep calm I grabbed my phone and called Tom while lying on the bed. Mostly thanks to being able to reach him right away and it not occurring several minutes before I could get home like two days ago on the bike, it slowed down pretty fast. Yesterday I took nothing at all. I admit I questioned the vitamin D, but then said, nah.

I took a chill pill cuz my pulse was starting to come back up, had two more bouts of partial runs, and then, as self-pitying as it may seem, I broke down in tears of frustration for a few minutes. I couldn’t help but ask WHY? And HOW do I fix this? Nothing I come up with makes sense. I agree with Tom that it’s not likely to be my heart because I have none of the classic symptoms. No chest, neck or arm pain.

Although the symptoms scream “anxiety,” even though I had no feelings of suffocation, throat lumps or symptoms other than a racy heart and upset stomach, why would I suddenly develop such a severe anxiety disorder despite being naturally anxious in the past? When did it ever terrify me so much that I had to run and call Tom about it? So once again, even if it seems a bit extreme for me, I wondered if the doc was right and if maybe I’ve got severe anxiety and need a shrink. The only thing I’m sure of is that if my only choices are these beat-outs or doping myself up, I’ll take the dope. It’s terrifying. Just because it’s not life-threatening doesn’t make it any less scary. That big old spider on the wall isn’t life-threatening either, but he’s still terrifying, just in a different kind of way.

It being my thyroid also makes no sense cuz why now? I’ve had a bum thyroid for years, so why now? I need to find out what this is and get it dealt with, I said to myself, so yes, I’m going to mention it to the new doc next month. I’m literally living in fear now and it’s no way to live. When something’s not actually happening, I’m scared that it will. My sense of peace and security is gone, and every time I think I’m good as new again, my worst fears are realized and confirmed once again.

And then… even though I promised Tom I wouldn’t research medical stuff so I don’t get freaked out or confused by what I may find… I googled “can vitamin d make your heart race.”

I sat back in my chair, stared at the page and muttered OMG. Just OMFG. I didn’t even have to click on any links, as I told him when I told him what to Google. Why wasn’t I warned of this possibility, damn it?! I’m tired of having to learn things the hard way and figure things out on my own. Don’t get me wrong, though. The levothyroxine was still a problem, but the D’s were clearly making it worse. I think they all fed off of each other and it was like throwing fuel on a fire.

It's like going to doctors has made me WORSE instead of better, and that story this girl told me where miscommunication between her doctor and pharmacist caused her to double dose her own thyroid meds doesn't exactly calm my fears and restore my faith in doctors. There are SO many quacks in the world of doctors these days! Forget about just the cops and the government. But this must be dealt with. I can't just sit back and do nothing at all as much as I’d like to. If doctors aren’t going to take responsibility and warn us up front of possible side effects then we need to do our own research. If just one or two people have complaints, I wouldn’t put much stock in it, but when you have dozens of people saying the same thing, well, that should pretty much tell you something. I also wonder why there are no warnings on the vitamin bottle.

Lotta things are starting to make sense now that I think of this vitamin D shit, which has been slammed - not placed - in the trash. The way being in the sun too long can make your heart beat too fast is one of them. I did take it not too long before hitting my bike the other day too, and like I said, anxiety alone or overdoing my workout just didn’t seem likely, though I’m not ready to rule that out completely. But other things do add up now. It would explain why my heart wouldn’t always race right after taking the levothyroxine, but later on in the day after taking a D. In Wednesday’s case as well as today’s, though, I’d say it definitely wasn’t anxiety that got my heart racing, but the vitamin D that got it racing which in turn caused me to feel anxious. Again, I didn’t have such “heart attacks” to this degree when my life was a mess, so why would I suddenly be hit with such intense and extreme fits of pure anxiety when life is better? I was in a fine mood, the weather was gorgeous, I wasn’t overdoing my workout, etc.

Now, unless I start getting these heart racers with absolutely nothing at all, I’m afraid to take anything at all! :( It seems I just can’t take anything without side effects. I would get a racy heart at times in my 20s and I wonder just how much of it was anxiety vs. the side effects from the asthma medication I used to take. It’s just that it wasn’t so damn terrifying then, nor did it usually go beyond just a racy heart. I think the levothyroxine and the D’s were responsible for the racing heart, though the levothyroxine was mostly responsible for the negative emotions, the upset stomach and other anxiety symptoms like the throat lump. It’s like the drugs took what was always a case of borderline but manageable anxiety and turned it into the anxiety from hell. Give a plant some water and it will grow.

I’m afraid to even eat just yet but I have 30 extra pounds of fat my body can feed off of, so I’m not going to starve. I did make some tea, though. I figured that’d be good for starters till I let a few more hours pass by after taking the vitamin. It’s kinda ridiculous, when you think about it, to give me 250% of vitamin D when I get 100% (and they knew this) from the chewable ones, and am spending more time in the sun. In fact, if I’ve read the labels right, they had me on a total of 400%. Who the hell needs 400%?! Were they trying to kill me?

It’s just nice to know God may not have stolen my joy of bike riding after all if it was the vitamin D causing the racers and not me overdoing it. I just worry something up there is out to slowly torture me to death! Really, I miss the old healthy me! I’d get things that were annoying, but familiar. Frustrating but not terrifying. Now I feel all these things I never felt before and some of which I have, but even those things are scary, too.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2014 Yesterday my heart took me on another fast and furious ride that was utterly terrifying and totally unexpected. Since about 4 or 5 days after quitting the levothyroxine, my heart has been fine. A little racy at times, but nothing too maddening.

Just after 9am yesterday I took the bike out for my daily 2-mile run around the perimeters. I didn’t think I was going that fast. I was a bit warm perhaps, wishing I’d worn a tank and shorts instead of my long athletic pants and a tee, but sure enough, my heart starts beating its ass off toward the end of my route. I briefly considered stopping but didn’t want to just stand there in the glaring sunlight waiting for what may get worse. I was close to home anyway and wanted to be able to lie down in bed and have access to my phone. I usually bring my smartphone, set it to play music, then place it in my bike basket. It was dead, however, so I left it at home in the charger.

So I got home and found my heart doing close to 160. I tried not to panic, but it seemed like relaxing wasn’t getting it to slow down. I was going from alarmed to terrified. I popped a chill pill and left Tom a message. He told me to let him know if I wanted him to come home. I told him no, my heart was now slowing down to the 120s. I had none of the anxiety symptoms I had on the medication; just the racing heart. I didn’t feel like I was suffocating or like I had a lump in my throat, and there were no negative emotions other than the fear of what was going on at the moment.

But right after I told him not to come home, the fucker beats its way back up into the 130s. This turned my anxiety up a notch and at that point I told him to come home.

Nearly a half-hour later he was home and I was lying in bed with what I’m guessing was now a pulse of a little over 100. He got the monitor and confirmed that but then it started climbing again about 5 minutes later. Fortunately, it only did so for a few seconds before dropping to its usual range in the 90s. Eventually, it probably dropped to the 80s. The ordeal left me feeling dizzy and drained. I even woke up down two whole pounds because I was too shaken up to eat as much. All the while I kept asking myself, why, why, why??? I wasn’t on any medication, so why did it happen???

Tom and Tammy have two different theories, and while I agree with most of what Tammy says having been a medical assistant and all that, I think Tom is most likely right in this case unless my heart ever decides to start taking off on a mad run while I’m just sitting around doing nothing. And yes, that is a fear I now have, though not a huge one. I don’t mean a spree of 120-something, I mean over 150. I don’t care that our research says it’s not life-threatening without a previous history of heart problems; it’s downright terrifying as hell just the same! I’d rather have a ton of noise all day long to bitch about than to go through such physical terror. Just what the hell has the bastard above got against my heart these days anyway? I swear I feel like I’ve just GOT to be picked on no matter what. If I’m not dirt poor at the moment, why not scare the shit out of me instead then? Once I felt better physically, my mind began to worry about God using me to get Tom to lose his job. God would punish us both for my problems, too. Let’s hope He has a heart – whether His races or not – and spares us the bullshit. Especially after all the hardships we’ve endured in the past. Really, God, if you hate me that much, just kill me or leave me alone.

Tammy's theory is that it’s my thyroid doing this to me and that once I’m on the proper medication that’s right for me, I’ll be ok. The reason this one’s hard to swallow is that for my heart to take off like that would be more appropriate for those with hyperthyroidism and not hypothyroidism. Also, it did this when I was on the meds. I realized that had I been on just 1 tiny little mcg of the stuff at the time I’d have blamed it on the meds entirely. She said, though, that I wasn’t on the medication long enough to correct the thyroid.

Tom’s theory is I overdid my workout, 160 won’t kill me, it takes a good half hour or so to get it back down to normal, and my taking a chill pill only delayed this. He thinks that’s why it started coming back up; because it needed to beat faster for a while. He said my heart won’t beat faster than its max heart rate and if it beats like that it’s for a reason that’s necessary, like to pump blood and oxygen to the muscles I worked out. He also said that many of those who work out actually want to hit the 160s, and I probably have come up that high many times in the past but didn’t freak out about it since I’d never had the negative effects of the levothyroxine to remember. Well, I sure wouldn’t mind deleting July 9th through yesterday from my brain! He’s right, though. I probably have hit those levels but just didn’t have the monitor to tell me what the numbers were. A part of me wishes we’d never gotten the damn thing. Ignorance really is bliss at times. How I feel at times is bad enough without the numbers rubbing it in. As he also reminded me, heart attacks are where your heart slows down and can’t beat fast enough, not race like hell.

I do remember a time back in high school, before the state got me, running around the track. I felt like my heart was going to explode afterward and almost like I might be sick, too. I don’t remember throwing up or anything, but my pulse was rather scary. I had to remain still and it seemed to take a while to slow down. It is still easier to overdo it on a bike than on foot. No doubt about that. On foot, it’s easier to pace ourselves, but when riding a bike uphill, it’s tough whether we’re riding fast or slow. I don’t remember this happening when biking up hills in Oregon, though.

Imagine a square-shaped piece of cloth and consider it our park. Now lift a corner of that cloth. Well, we’re up on that lifted corner. From any point in the park heading in the direction of our house, it’s an uphill slope all the way with very few level spots. It’s fairly level for walking and driving, but for bikes, there’s no avoiding the hills to get back to the house. The first mile of my ride is mostly downhill, fun and fairly easy, but I gotta come uphill to get home for the last part.

Just as I was feeling the best ever since last July, this shit had to happen, normal reaction to overdoing it or not. I was beginning to think I’d never need another chill pill again.

I do agree that it’s highly unlikely anything’s wrong with my heart since enough people have listened to it this year, and I doubt I have anxiety even worse than BOTH the good doc and I imagined because nothing made me anxious other than the event itself. Nothing startled me along the way. No turkeys jumped out at me, no people, no traffic, no nothing. It still seems a bit strange when you’re in as good of shape as I’m in. I’m fat, but I’m still fit, so I feel like it shouldn’t have happened, “normal” or not. Yes, the uphill ride is strenuous as hell on a Cruiser, but then why don’t I have this happen every time I ride? What was different about yesterday? Again, I didn’t think I was overdoing it in any way, but you can bet your ass I ain’t going anywhere today. Today I’m going to sit on my ass reading and writing. No cleaning, no laundry, and definitely no exercising. I’m just running a load of dishes through the dishwasher and dumping the recyclables.

Tom just left for work reminding me that the numbers mean nothing whether it’s 80 or 130 and that my heart will beat as it needs to. It’s if it stops beating or I go unconscious that something went wrong. I get what he’s saying, though a rapid heartbeat for no reason at all would still scare the shit outa me. Even though I don’t expect my heart to go crazy for the first time ever with no workouts or medication, I’ll be sending Tom regular reports at work throughout the day letting him know how I’m doing. I can tell you one thing for sure and that’s that I have really come to hate hearts! I wish I could yank it outa my chest and put it on the table until Tom comes home. I’d be heartless when he was absent, LOL.

There’s no way in hell I’m getting back on that bike, and if I ever do it’s not going to be by myself. Since I’ll never lose much weight on or off medication because I can’t stand the hunger diets bring, all I need to do is maintain the shape I’m currently in. All that takes is a few minutes of cardio, plus an arm and ab workout. I’ll either walk/jog on my treadmill or around the circle if I want fresh air, and that’s it. A mile is enough, too. No need to go over two miles by going around perimeters. Tom thinks working out every other day is better than every day. I may do some exercise vids or the Wii Fitness thing, too. I’ll mix it up so I don’t get too bored so easily, but damn am I going to miss my bike. Thanks, God, for taking yet another pleasure from my life.

I heard movement from next door’s garage on and off yesterday, of course, but no saws, hammers or landscaping frenzies. Saw Mr. White Shirt fold up the table and lean it against the garage wall before pulling the SUV in. I’m sure they’ll have something going on over there today, but I’d rather listen to all kinds of shit than go through yesterday’s scare.

Later…

I keep forgetting to ask Andy if he remembers a woman named Gail and a little boy named Benji from the beach we spent our summers at as kids in Old Lyme, Connecticut, the boy being a few years younger than I was.

I have a vague and quick recollection of them being in the corner cottage that Charlotte and Jim eventually bought. My sister and I were going to go out somewhere with Gail and Benji. Gail was probably in her late teens to early 20s at the time, but I don't think she was Benji's mother. Maybe related, though, but I don't know. Anyway, they were in a bedroom with the door closed while Tammy and I sat out in the living room. I remember Gail yelling at the kid and the kid crying. Back then I was just a naive kid myself, but as an adult looking back on it, I'd say she was probably beating the shit out of the kid.

Without saying much about it, they came out of the bedroom and we all went to a mall of some kind. Tammy and I must've split up from her and Benji at one point cuz we went into the bathroom to find Gail naked from the waist down. She said, "Oh, Tammy, thank God it's you," as she rinsed her panties in the sink saying she'd had the runs.

I asked Tammy about it a few months ago and she says she has no recollection of these people. Wonder if Andy does? We’ll soon see.

Viagraville stayed quiet till 8:40 and then Bob, who seems to literally live in his garage every other day, started in with the bike air pump. The bike I never even see him riding anymore. It started again, overriding my rainstorm video a short while later and that’s when I said, Ok, that’s it. I’m moving my Mac into the laundry room with its built-in desk on the other side of the house from next door. I’ve had it with the loud power tools and machinery. I appreciate that they’ve been here since 1988 and that he’s just a bored, old man who’s restless, but I have rights, too. I’m sick of hearing them nearly every single fucking day. I wish they’d go back to coming and going like crazy. Instead, they’re home more often and in that garage. They have a beautiful patio in front, the weather is now perfect for hanging out there, yet he would rather hang out and make a racket in his garage. I shouldn’t have to sit here with my sound vids to near-deafening levels to drown out an 80-something man in a retirement community. If this shit keeps up I’m going to have to say something. I doubt it’ll do me any good, knowing how most people are, but I’m really getting fed up. I gave him a dose of Aerosmith for a while. Oh, wait. He’s deaf. That’s what Virginia told me anyway, though anytime I’ve talked with him he’s never seemed to have any trouble hearing me.

Actually, he just left. Good. Hopefully, he won’t come back in an hour or two to play saw and hammer. Thought I’d hear a lot of landscaping today, but nope. Bob’s been the only annoyance so far, but it’s not even noon yet and it’s only 75° out. I should walk around the circle a few times for some sun, color and fresh air, but nope. I really should take a whole day off after yesterday’s scare, normal reaction to a kick-ass workout or not.

Still liking the idea of moving my computer into the laundry room. Well, I both do and don’t like it. We could use the desk in the living room for our Wii stuff and other stuff like our laser printer. It’d be a bit of a hassle, but hopefully worth it in the end… until the old lady on that side who never goes anywhere and rarely has company decides it’s time to start getting out more and having more guests over, too.

Later…

Sitting here realizing how smart it would be not to bother sending Hot Doc a friend request. I just know God's waiting to make sure she doesn't accept it or doesn't even get it if He suspects there's a chance she might accept it. Hotties aren't allowed in my life unless I've never met them.

The question is if I do send her a friend invite, when and how should I go about it. I contemplated sending a message on MyHealth that said, “On the record: Had to get doctors closer to home. Off the record: Please check your Facebook account when you can.

But I don’t want to contact her on MyHealth and have that be a part of my health record, especially before the records are transferred to Mercy.

So should I contact her after Tom contacts Sutter? After I cancel the appointment online and put that as a reason for the cancelation instead of in a message? I probably shouldn’t do that cuz I don’t know that she personally sees my reasons for canceling like she’d see any message I left her.

Maybe I should just send nothing but the friend invite. The question is… when? I certainly can’t do it while she thinks I’m still her patient.

I think for now I’ll just wait till the records have been requested.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 8, 2014 I got the pumice stones Andy sent to help clean water stains in our toilet bowls, I amazingly have a doctor’s appointment, and my rats are butt fucking. LOL, looks that way, anyway. As any rat behavior research will tell you, when the opposite sex isn’t available, the same sex will do. At least they can’t knock each other up. :)

It’s official. Tom will be seeing a male Arabian doctor next week and I will be seeing a female Ecuadorian doctor next month. We’re thinking I can get into the specialist in mid-December. Tom thinks it will be good for me to have another month to continue recovering and not have to worry about it. Also, I don’t want to start medication while Andy's visiting and have to worry about the potential side effects when trying to enjoy his visit. As Tom also points out, this way it will be closer to the New Year since I don’t like that there is a 4 in this year. 4 has always seemed to be a very unlucky number for me, and other than our trip to Hawaii and being in good financial standing, this year sure has had its rough spots. Having side effects so bad you think you accidentally OD’d and may die is no fun at all.

Although I’ll miss Doc C, I will not miss Sutter at all! They are not only disorganized, incompetent idiots, they took me, a healthy woman who was fit for her age, not overly fat, with a minor condition that should be medicated but isn’t presently critical, and left me basically unmonitored while I suffered inhumane side effects and was told to keep taking the shit that was causing them, and then to see a shrink so I could “deal” with the anxiety that the meds were 95% responsible for.

The one thing no one can take away, unfortunately, is the horrible memories of those panic-filled moments of fight or flee the shit sent my mind and body into. I felt like I was going to die at times! I still can’t believe how one can have a 99% oxygen reading yet STILL feel like they’re about to suffocate to death. It was the absolute worst feeling I ever experienced along with the booming heart that would suddenly occur while I was just sitting there with nothing bad on my mind at all.

Don’t get me wrong, though. Going back to the doctors and back on meds is still a scary thought after what happened. Doc C was right about some of the anxiety coming from me (we just didn’t want me being doped up or getting addicted to happy pills). But I will hopefully get over my fears and phobias in time just like I did with the dentist after the county quack I saw when we were broke turned pulling that molar into a nightmare. Before that, having teeth pulled wasn’t a big deal for me. I’d had all 4 wisdoms pulled and an impacted baby tooth. Braces were a bit rough, but still nothing like Mr. County Quack.

Later…

I don't know what shocks me more, how well the pumice works that Andy sent, or how something so rough could fail to scratch the bowls up to holy hell and back! I so do appreciate him sending them! I thought it would take forfuckingever to get the stains off - IF it really worked - but nope. Took no time at all to do both toilets, though I'll admit I'm not striving for total perfection with these ancient bowls since we're going to replace them at some point.

I’m enjoying the peace until next door, along with the park workers, come to steal it away for the day. Yesterday sucked. Next door had a carpet cleaning company here that was insanely loud. It went on for about 45 minutes.

Enough of their loud services already! If it isn’t them making the racket, they’re hiring people to do it for them.

I guess Virginia only wears the same color, too. Where Bob wears only white shirts, she wears only pink. Nothing wrong with that, of course, it’s just a little odd to see someone wearing the same thing every time you see them.

What was strange was that the SUV stayed here while the carpet was being done. I’m guessing someone picked them up or they hung out with someone at the park. If they’re back into their usual routine, the first trip out will occur by 8:30. The garage door is closed, but I’m guessing that’s cuz of all the stuff they’ve got in there right now. I just hope they’re not living it up out there today (along with anyone else) in ways that override my sound machine. The thing was certainly useless against that carpet cleaner as well as that tree service!

Also yesterday, the park landscapers seemed to be doing the same damn areas over and over again. You’d never believe you were in a retirement community! For about 5 hours it was one distraction after another.

Nane’s back, but probably wishes she wasn’t. Kein mehr Sonne und Meer für ihre, LOL.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2014 Poor Aly needs dentures due to her “own laziness,” as she puts it. Huh? Didn’t she brush daily? Or did she just not take care of cavities regularly? Still, it once again makes you wonder just what kind of God, if any, sits up in the sky when people like her need dentures while Molly’s worst problem is not being able to let go of a guy in Iowa who abused her and is now stalking her.

Who is the winner of this year’s Blog Cabin?! Not me. You would think that with my entry being one of many millions I wouldn’t bother entering in the first place. After all, my odds of winning aren’t much better than if I’d never entered at all.

As I sit here listening to the distant freeway traffic, one of the few sounds penetrating these walls that I actually don’t find annoying, I find myself amazed that there is so much traffic on a weekday at nearly 3am. I know this is Cali, but where could so many people have to go in the wee hours of a Tuesday morning?

Bob never ended up pulling a power tool party on me yesterday. At one point around noon, I looked out the front door and saw a bunch of books sitting on the table he’d set up. Maybe they were just clearing old clutter out of the house or something. I just hope it’s peaceful today with the exception of the landscapers that always hit the house across from us on Tuesdays.

After posting 3 entries in less than 2 hours, I’d say this is it for now. :)

Later…

One of the benefits of being a lead or whatever you want to call it at work, is that Tom gets to play by his own rules. Money is not needed now, but it’s always wanted. Always. We’re only human and nearly $25 an hour is hard to pass up. But after 9 hours and 45 minutes of work, he said, “Ok, I’m outa here.” The owners wouldn’t care if he worked all through the night, even if it would cost them a fortune! 10 hours is too much, though, and unless we’re ever desperate for money again, he’s not going to work that long. 9 or a little more is ok some days, but that’s it.

Those damn skunks are everywhere at this time of year! I love riding in the middle of the night when there are no people, turkeys or vehicles in my way. Gotta watch out for those skunks, though. One ran across the road and into our carport as I was looping around the circle and heading for the outskirts of the park. I almost doubled back to pound on the front door (Tom was up), but realized it would probably have moved on by the time I got back, and it did.

There goes the oxygen walker. Oh, the things I see from these windows. I’d still prefer to see just an ocean or mountains or woods, but what I do see is hard to miss with all these big windows.

I’m amazed that the SUV hasn’t budged yet next door and their garage door is still closed, too. A service van pulled up a short while ago, but I don’t know what’s going on. This is so not like them. I know their routine - lights on by 5am, garage door open by his 6:00 walk, first trip out by 8:30. The back of the van is open now and I see a big blue hose on a reel, but still don’t know what it’s for. Carpet cleaning? Still doesn’t explain the garage door still being shut, though.

Now I hear something loud and obnoxious running from the van. sighs I still can’t believe how much noise can be heard in a retirement park. Aren’t they due to go on vacation soon?

MONDAY, OCTOBER 6, 2014 Had a dream Andy mentioned having psoriasis, and that I was either being kicked off of or denied disability benefits. The guy interviewing me (while Tom sat next to me) was going on and on about shit like how it was hard to get off of disability, but I was the only reason I wasn’t working. Some shit about mistakes made in the womb too, and then about God’s supposed love and understanding for all of us.

rolls eyes The one that’s made sure to have me denied my rightful benefits? Let’s not forget that no one has ever paid for a single thing done wrong to me in life either.

Tom read that the third leading cause of death in the US is caused by doctors screwing up. This doesn’t help me get over my trust issues where they’re concerned. I guess in CA they want to pass a law requiring them to get tested for drugs and alcohol. Only I don’t think all their errors are from drugs and alcohol, I think it’s also from stupidity and carelessness.

After a fun, peaceful and relaxing Sunday, I’m hoping to have an anxiety-free day today. A Bob-free day would be nice, too. Really hope I don’t have to listen to him sawing and hammering on and off for hours. I know most people don’t mind, but to me it’s highly annoying.

Andy's already been woken up by his new neighbors hammering, but as he said, this is to be expected when they’re just getting settled in. It’s in a few months from now I’d worry about. I don’t know why, but even my worst of neighbors have started off quiet. Then it seems they think all hell should break loose after 6 months to a year.

I’d rather hear them slam vehicle doors next door. That’s annoying too, but it doesn’t go on and on. It’s a weekday, though, so they’ll come and go plenty. Love it when they BOTH go out, even if they’re not usually gone more than an hour or two. Actually, I don’t mind it when Virginia stays back because she’s never noisy. It’s him that’s the problem. Unfortunately, though, most of the time I see the SUV pull out, it’s just her.

Alison’s going to leave a VM once AT&T (oh, don’t we remember them and their shit well) takes care of her phone issues. She warned me she sounded nasal. So do I. I also sound like a lesbian, LOL.

Later…

Got a little cactus plant and another lucky bamboo plant last Sunday. The bamboo is in a gorgeous shiny vase of little silver squares. I almost got a palm, but said nah. Those would be more work than I care to put into plants. We have enough living outdoors as it is. I have 3 fake palms in here anyway.

It deeply saddens and angers me to learn a British man got just 4 years in prison for killing his friend when I got 6 months’ county time and 2 years of probation for a letter I didn’t write before being vindicated. It may be better than the Middle East and African countries where they’ll kill you just for being gay or just for what you believe, but really… is human life that meaningless to the British? And is what one says (or is at least accused of saying) really that much more important than what they do?

It also burns me up when blacks and whites alike try to say there’s “no such thing” as blacks discriminating against whites when I’m living proof that that’s utter bullshit. It isn’t just me either. This has been happening since the L.A. Riots, only you never hear about it like you do when blacks get shit on. Or at least claim they do. This is part of why I’m not spending much time on Facebook lately. I’m tired of hearing about only SOME cases as if it’s still the huge problem it was 50 years ago and no one else ever gets shit on.

Later…

Ugh, as soon as I saw next door had pulled the SUV out of the garage and a table with a good-sized stereo set up just inside of it, I threw the sound machines on. I know damn well the sawing and hammering are to come next, and if it doesn’t, whatever it is he’s gearing up to do over there can’t be very quiet. I’m really getting sick of this shit. There are only so many weeks of it I can take before the fact that they’ve been here a helluva lot longer stops mattering to me. I have rights, too. Like the right to live in peace, ESPECIALLY in a retirement community.

Even when he’s not sawing/hammering, the bumps and bangs of his movements are really annoying/distracting and I feel almost like I’m in an apartment. I saw him going to and from the table a little later on, in his signature white T-shirt, as always. Why does he have to do this shit so close to our place? What’s wrong with taking his projects to the other side of his place? I just can’t get a neighbor who either works or is too lazy to do much more than sit inside in front of the TV. I just can’t.

I realize that if we do go to Florida when he retires, we may as well get a condo or an apartment so we don’t have to be responsible for yard work or roofing or anything like that if we’re going to hear our neighbors anyway. What difference does it make if we can hear their TV vs. their circular saw? Or their vehicle doors slamming vs. their entry doors slamming as they came and went?

Why can’t I be one of those who thrives on noise? Most people actually don’t mind or even enjoy hearing those around them, so why can’t I? Why can’t I consider it the “sounds of life,” too? So many people love to hear their neighbors because it makes them feel less alone in the world. I wish I could see it that way too, but if I did then I suppose I would only hate the nighttime and those few days when someone around here isn’t doing something or another I have to hear about.

Later…

So I was chatting with Andy on Ask as we do every day and mentioned that giving up my weekend treats would be like giving up a dear friend. How many of those do I have? he asked. LOL, I think he forgets that just because most of those I’m closest to aren’t local doesn’t make them any less special to me. I will admit, though, that most of those I’m close to who aren’t family are people I’ve never met. This is mostly because it’s so much easier to meet people online than in person. How many places do I go in person vs. websites online? Since most of the sites I frequent are social/writing sites, that makes it even easier to strike up a conversation with someone about whatever, realize you have things in common, then end up cyber buddies.

Although I never met Aly, Christine, Nane, Adonis, Mitch and some folks from the writing sites, they’re still special to me just like Andy, Paula, Jessie, my VH sisters, Eileen, and a few others I haven’t seen in centuries that I knew back east.

The one person I kept in touch with from Arizona blew it with her trust issues. While I totally understood why she had such serious trust issues since her life was a million times worse than mine, she’s the type that thinks everybody’s lying, and well, understanding something doesn’t always make it easier to deal with. The false accusations were driving me crazy, not to mention how highly offensive they were, and she eventually lost me when I got tired of defending and explaining myself to her.

As for Oregon… I wasn’t there long enough to really get to know anyone, though there were two women and one guy I’d consider “almost” friends. One I can’t find on Facebook, the other two I never knew their last names, unfortunately, because I’d love to look them up. I was heavy into sweeping (and winning) in those days, so I spent half my time entering sweeps and the other half freezing my ass off, haha. But Jane the waitress, Liz the cashier, and Randy the mailman were the highlights of Oregon. So was Jan the gift shop owner that used to sell me incense till she traded brick and mortar for cyberspace.

Our first 8 months in Cali were spent in an extended-stay hotel and while we became friends with the staff there, that didn’t carry over into our post-hotel stay. It wasn’t easy to meet people during the 5 years we lived in the woods either, though we’ve met some people since being here in the park that I either wave to or briefly chat with when I’m out exercising. No one we’ve grown close to yet with our busy lives, but friends are both important and not important to me. Meaning that if we acquire any good ones, fine. If we don’t, that’s fine, too. I believe most of the best things in life aren’t planned and I think that looking for friends doesn’t usually work any more than looking for love does.

I don’t want friends just for the sake of having friends. I want special friends, and no, that doesn’t mean you have to be a hottie. I mean friends who are very important to me and that I’d find hard to imagine not having in my life, no matter what they may look like. Anyone can go out and “make” friends. But in order to qualify for a chance to be my friend, no matter where you live, you gotta really have something about you that hooks my interest because I am that picky. I’m hard to impress. Easy to lose, since I tend not to be a very forgiving person or one with a high tolerance to bullshit any more than to physical pain, but I’m hard to capture as well. I’ll be friends with any gender, size, color or nationality, but not just any person. If I’m meant to be close to anyone local, it will be by accident and not something I plan. I never “looked” for my past friends, be it those I’ve met in person or online, so why start now?

For a work-at-home person who likes to keep busy, I don’t interact with many people and that, like most things, has its pros cuz it spares me from any potential bullshit. But again, my door isn’t closed to the possibility, so we’ll see what the future holds. In a way, I’m surprised I never struck up a friendship with someone in cyberspace from my area. Cali’s a big state and it sure as hell is plenty populated, too. Still, you better have something damn near amazing about you to stand a chance or else you could live right under my nose in Bob’s garage for all I care. :)

Later…

Speaking of friends I’m close to as mentioned in my previous entry, I can’t believe I’ll be seeing Andy in less than two months! :))) We’ll be heavier, blinder, older and grayer, but I don’t give a shit. I just want to throw my arms around him and hug the guy for the first time since 1999!

In one of the surveys I did, I was asked if I thought those who committed 3 felonies should be imprisoned for life regardless of what the felonies were.

Definitely not. First of all. some states like Arizona and Texas consider damn near everything a felony. Secondly, I think only violent people should be jailed/imprisoned and the rest should do probation. People stand to lose too much when put in jail… jobs, kids, homes. Probation is punishment enough for the non-violent offenders, and hardcore punishment has only proven not to be a very effective deterrent anyway. People are going to break the law no matter what the penalties may be because they don’t “plan” to get caught.

I think rapists, however, should be jailed for life after the first offense. You can’t rehabilitate a rapist. I also think violence should be jailed for life after one offense, too. I don’t mean a slap in the face; I mean someone who’s drawn blood, broken bones, etc. So… throw the violent folks away for life after just one – maybe two – offenses, and let the rest do probation.

I kept waiting for one of my nails to break at which time I would have cut the rest of them, but they just didn’t want to break. Finally fed up with them getting in the way of things, I cut them off yesterday morning.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 5, 2014 Woke up a bit on the anxious side, but after talking with Tom I felt better. Again the uncertainty of who to see and whether or not they’d be very helpful to me was eating at me, as well as the question of whether or not I could ever get up the guts to take medication again.

“You’re already getting there and have made tremendous progress,” Tom said. “You can take your vitamins again and pain pills. You got over what that dentist did to you a few years ago and now you’re fine. You’ll do the same with this.”

Forgot about that county quack who pulled one of my infected and dying molars. He really made it quite a nightmare, but then things got better for us financially and I got a dentist that does a great job and is a real sweetheart. Very compassionate and caring. The county guy was insensitive and impatient.

“You were fine in December,” Tom added, “then you got worse. Sutter’s been horrible. You never used to even mention anxiety and now they’ve put these suggestions in your head, not that I’m going to stop you if you ever decide you truly do want to see a therapist or a psychiatrist.”

Sutter has been horrible. Not just in giving me medication that caused horrible side effects, but by the lack of follow-ups, monitoring, and utter lack of ease in getting appointments.

I think I was blinded by Doc C’s beauty. As Tom said, she may be great for some people, but she hasn’t been very helpful to me. She’s helped with my female issues, she’s helped with my ingrown toenail, but not so much with other issues. I’m sure she believes she’s done all she can as a PCP and not a specialist, and that referring me to those she’s referred me to was the right thing to do, and I’m not saying it wasn’t. I’m just saying she’s highly misunderstood me. At least that’s the impression I got. I don’t think she realizes just how much the levothyroxine fucked me up. I also wonder if my having to mention the TD put false ideas in her head. It’s not my fault I was misdiagnosed as a teen, but she wouldn’t know this and I understand that much.

Still, we shouldn’t have had to play phone tag with my old endo all day like we did, and then be told to come in that day or wait till December.

Just like being legally screwed shot my trust in the legal system, dealing with fucked up doctors here and there has put a damper on my trust in them as well. I realize, though, that as they say, we all gotta trust somebody sooner or later. Letting myself believe they’re all bad news isn’t going to help, but it’s going to take time to get over this just like it took time to get over the dental trust issues.

So here’s the current plan. We’re going to go ahead and have Tom see this male internal medicine doctor on the 13th with another medical group as we discussed earlier. Meanwhile, he’s going to call around some more for a female primary/internal med doc for me. If he can’t get me an appointment with one, and if he likes the doctor he’s going to see, then I’ll see him, too. Male docs are a lot easier to get appointments with, especially if they’re not American.

If Tom says he sucks… I don’t even want to think of that right now!

Tom’s going to stop the thyroid supplements so as not to deceive the blood work in any way. If there really is a deficiency, he’d like it to show up with accuracy.

I asked Tom if we should shut down Sutter, but he said we didn’t have to do anything right now. They didn’t help us, so we don’t owe them any special favors. We’ll just worry about ourselves. Meaning that we’ll cancel the December appointment early enough not to get charged for not showing up for it.

We set up VM on my smartphone and I sent a message asking Tammy for the app link to whatever one she used to set up VM in Facebook messaging. My MagicCrap expires in 10 days, so I gave Tammy, Andy and Aly my smartphone number.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 4, 2014 Today I have been smoke-free for 17 years!!! This day also brings back bad memories as well. In 2007, this was the start of a week-long financial nightmare when we were stuck in a Sacramento hotel and my first taste of real poverty. It was also the first time I really feared for my survival in a serious way.

No call back from the doctor. What, am I not sick enough to be her patient? This is getting ridiculous. Just fucking ridiculous. Not sure what we’re going to do next. I’ll discuss that later with Tom.

For now, I’ve been managing to go without happy pills. As Tom pointed out, it’s best to let my body learn to cope with the anxiety. As much as I’ve had a few moments where I’m tempted to run and take them, I know that will only prolong the anxiety and be too much like depending on alcohol. If our lives were shitty, then I could see taking the pills. But if our worst problems are doctor hassles and hoping I don’t suffer serious side effects the next time I’m on medication, then I don’t think I should be running for happy pills.

Was out riding at midnight and saw a skunk on Oak. It was walking away from me, toward the outer side of the road. I swerved to the middle of the road and it turned and faced me once it got onto the grass and stuck its tail up straight. Again, it’s less scary to encounter these things on wheels than on foot.

Had a dream Tom was having a tooth pulled. He’d be as scared as I would be to have eye surgery!

I worry more about his low pulse and high BP than his teeth.

Later…

Got this VERY poorly written message from Tammy after asking if the girls got an apartment yet saying: No they are both with their grandfather. There Aunt through Sarah out, not by talking to Sarah but by calling their dad who is angry with her, then went to their 93 year old grandfather. Then she lies to them. She is the same miserable person she has always been.

Wow, just wow. This has to mean something’s either very wrong with the aunt, or Sarah did something pretty bad in order to get thrown out by her own aunt. Not sure I get the part where she says “their dad who is angry with her.” Angry at the aunt or at Sarah? Still, that tells me something about Sarah - and yes, I admit I’m just guessing - that Sarah’s temper probably scared her aunt and that’s why her aunt went to her father about kicking her out and not her.

I personally would feel uncomfortable at the idea of them spending any length of time here, not just because they’re young and immature, but also because they have always seemed very moody, angry and vindictive. They’ve bragged on their walls before about how fun it is to get revenge on people. And whom do you suppose they got that from? I wouldn’t hesitate to dump Tammy (or anyone else) that was detrimental or toxic to my life and well-being in any way, but I really hope it doesn’t come to that. Not just because no one wants that in the first place, but because she will make my online life hell and make Kim and Molly seem like nothing, and will enlist the aid of her daughters, too.

Later…

LOL, Maryann got my message and blocked me.

Doc Hottie added her 320th friend at 9:30 last night and still appears not to have read my message to her. I might’ve accidentally gotten my message to Maryann sent to her inbox as opposed to her other box by friending her first, then deciding to cancel the request and just send a message instead. Initially, I thought her accepting a friend request would be the only way to get a message to her, but I know it doesn’t always work that way and I have no desire to be her friend.

There are 5 possibilities where the doc’s concerned.

The message never went through.

The message did go through but she hasn’t checked her other box.

The message went through, she read it, didn’t respond, and the message is failing to show up as read.

She read it and then marked it as unread.

She read it and sent a reply I never got.

I’d say the first two are the most likely, especially #1. Again, getting too close to the hotties is a “no-no” for me in God’s eyes. Well, then why the fuck did He make me attracted to some women in the first place? As a tease? Let me guess… when I eventually send her a friend request that’ll go unnoticed too, right? Don’t know how else to get a hold of her if that’s the case, but again, we can’t make be what isn’t meant to be. If something up there is going to block contact, there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t know the reasons why certain things are or aren’t meant to be, but it definitely seems like some things really are/aren’t. Oh well. Time will tell for sure.

This doc isn’t 100% written off yet, though. I still may see her in December if I can’t get another primary I’m satisfied with before then. I highly doubt I’ll ever see her again any more than I think I’ll be able to contact her online (sad considering that some people can’t avoid being contacted by certain people), but if I do I will have to either see a shrink, lie and say I saw one, and then explain why I still haven’t seen an endo or gotten a thyroid ultrasound done yet.

Later…

I know I should just live my life as I see fit and not worry about others, but for some reason – even though Molly hasn’t been a problem for me in a while – it still bugs me that she peeks in on my journal. It isn’t very often anymore, but it still annoys me. We’re not friends and there’s nothing about me that interests her except my connection to Alison.

When I realized how easily she and her mother could find my my-diary account I set it to private.

Mommy Dearest may be out of stalking commission right now with cancer, but I have a feeling it’s just a temporary blip in life and that she’ll be as good as new in a matter of months.

I was surprised to learn from Aly that Molly’s taken some computer classes. So she’s probably learned some of her hunting skills there. What didn’t surprise me was that she’s gone so far as to pay for detailed info on people at some pay sites like Intellius and Spokeo. A stalker would pay for something like that.

Aly also warned me that she clings to phrases when trying to hunt for hidden accounts like when I mention Nane or the fact that I go by Lady Rainbow/Frau Regenbogen.

What I wonder is… is Aly still friends with her? She says she’s not, but she’s said that before. I knew it would take Molly a while to get it (if she really dropped her without telling her so), but this long? Also, I know Molly’s crazy and delusional, but she writes as if they’re still keeping in touch such as by the way she says she’s so glad she can count on her when she’s having a shitty day.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 3, 2014 Although they said up front they would try to call by the end of the week, there’s still no call from the doctor and I’m still wondering when I’m going to be seen and how my hypothyroidism is going to be dealt with in a way that won’t kill me. I’m getting closer and closer to just giving up on doctors altogether. The disease hasn’t killed me yet and would take years to do so if it did end up killing me, so maybe I should just live, enjoy, and quit worrying about it. I’m not going to live forever anyway.

Got my new pink camouflage beanie today which will help keep me warm during those cold winter nights I’m out riding, and the flags and flagpoles arrived, too. Only problem is one of the poles is broken. :(

Had to smile when Andy said not to go out riding tonight when he heard that the FBI said there are 50 serial killers roaming around the US looking for victims, and that’s scary. Yeah, it is, but we can’t hide inside forever. They also operate in the daytime when more people are out and about and aren’t likely to consider a gated old people park prime hunting grounds. And why go for the chick in her 40s and weighing in the 140s when you can have the 110-pound teenager or 20-something instead? Aren’t the young and slim still the preferred thing?

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 2, 2014 My last round of dreams consisted of me speaking in sign language to someone, though I don’t remember what I said, walking along a beach somewhere and seeing my dead uncle enter a nearby condo, and then I was living with my parents. I think I was visiting them and not actually living with them, but I was trying to sleep in one of the bedrooms when their voices would sometimes get a little loud and keep me awake.

The only other dream I remember was living in a big house in the country somewhere. Tom was on his way to work and said something about running out of gas on the way there and having to stop partway to pour some gas into the tank. Meanwhile, this and maybe something else seemed to be making me nervous because I was walking around with my bottle of lorazepam in my hand.

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 1, 2014 The older Asian couple moved in next to Andy yesterday. He says they are very likable. Let’s hope they stay that way for his sake. Bob and Virginia are likable too… until one of them breaks out the saw and hammer.

Went for my bike ride after 9pm and froze my ass off until my body warmed up, even though I had a T-shirt on instead of a tank. I should have worn sneakers instead of sandals.

Tom had no luck calling doctors yesterday, but today he had a rather weird experience with a potential female primary care doctor when he called her office. He was asked to give information about me. Meanwhile, the doctor will get back to us by the end of the week as to whether or not she decides she wants me as a patient. Really? I didn’t know they “decided” that. I know they could dump anyone that might make them really uncomfortable for any reason, but I thought they pretty much took whomever they could fit into their crazy schedules. Tom didn’t mention my levothyroxine side effects cuz he was just so caught off guard by the questions.

Even funnier was that he was told that if she decided to take me, it wouldn’t be till late October. LOL, that’s nothing, he told the nurse, secretary, or whoever it was he talked to. Everyone else (but the male Middle Easterner) can’t see me till between December and May.

Meanwhile, Tom’s going to see if he can see Mr. Mideast instead. It’s been years since he’s had a check-up, something I’ve been on his ass to do, especially if he thinks he may have an even worse case of hypothyroidism, high blood pressure, or anything else. I know I couldn’t drag him by the arm and make him see anyone, so it’s a relief to know he’s willing to do this on his own. He doesn’t care that the doc’s a guy or that he’s Middle Eastern. I think men in general are far less picky than women when it comes to what doctors they see. I just hope my worst fears are never a reality and that would be him acquiring anything terminal or debilitating. I’d rather be told I had cancer than hear that about him. But if he’s got something that can be fixed or helped, it would be nice to know.

For now, Doc Hottie is still on standby until and if any changes are official and definite. Oh, how I’m going to miss her! I really hope she accepts the Facebook friend request I plan to send once she’s no longer officially my doctor. According to the current code of ethics I read, it used to be a no-no to either date or befriend former patients, but now it’s acceptable. So it will be up to her and her own personal choice whether to accept or deny the request.

The “lump” in my throat is mostly gone, but yesterday I was getting random subtle waves of an anxious-like feeling in my throat and the top of my head if that makes any sense at all. Today’s been fine, though I think I need to bring it up less often when I do feel it. It seems to really frustrate Tom at times. Before work yesterday he threw his hands up and was like, “So what do you want to do?”

I don’t know what to do, I told him, or else I’d be doing it!

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