#as if having afternoons free is insane?? but I digress

[itissadbutitsmy-artblog]

if I made a discord server would anyone join it

update halfway throuhg making this sad post max promised to make me a server. success and win. networking works

[editorialsonlife]

Well

Welp, feeling like doing an update because there's been a lot going on to be honest. its one of those weird dichotomies where every day feels like an eternity and there's so much going on and then you look back and you're like oh, ok its just my brain making it difficult and making things take forever but anyway.

LOCKDOOOOOOOWWWWWWNNNNNNN

Lockdown life was good, apart from being thrust into it so suddenly dave left a banana on his desk. Wasn't great to come back to after 5 weeks out of the office - mummified mouldy banana!! Classic. We luckily got our first jab before lockdown started so that was good, and we were reasonably well stocked up on food and were generally a lot healthier this lockdown that last. honestly, there's a level of chill and serenity in lockdown that i just love. the ability to set my own schedule and only work the hours I actually work to get the job done? Amazing. getting 8.5 hours of sleep each night without having to wake to an alarm blaring? AMAZING. getting to go for walks every afternoon? SO FLIPPING GOOD. I love it so much, I really really do. I need this to be my life permanently.

WORK

Work is just ongoing and draining and honestly, coming back to the office was so fucking stressful and it was only one day. Being at home is just the fucking bomb. Pending home decisions, I wanna go contracting I think, but also ideally two part time contracts to have more flexibility? I dunno. You'd think a big 4 would provide variety but it really doesn't and honestly, with Richie leaving, wellington is just a sinking ship. Sean's off on parental leave, Kirstyn is down to four days a week, ben will be gone if he doesn't get promoted (and I don't think he will be tbh). Jack is just muddling along, Nigel wants to swap to consulting as well, Matt's going to be a shit leader in terms of bringing in work so it's just not going to work. and in our wider group it's going to get even more messy with heaps of the analysts leaving and a couple of senior hires too. so I think it's probably time to jump ship in general, pending the home stuff below. Also, coming back after a break again, I'm like, I don't actually like a lot of you? All the people I enjoy here are in other teams and groups, and I'll be sad to leave you all, but like, not enough to stay anyway lol.

Pending the home below, two options are to just going and get a job with a $30k payrise to make up for the maternity leave benefits I'm gunna leave behind when I leave this role - 18 weeks full pay, $100 a week for the first year back and a full year of maternity leave. It's basically 30k post tax which is a bit nuts to walk away from to be honest.

Otherwise the other option is to go contracting. Less security overall but holy shit so much money. If I went in as a project coordinator at the lowest rate to build up a bit of a portfolio I'd need to work 40 weeks of 40 hr weeks and Id basically match my current salary plus the lost family leave benefits and still qualify for govt maternity leave payments. Realistically I could go in as a project manager for $140 an hour ($60 more an hour than the above math) and absolutely smash it at that level as well so ya know, there's a bunch of other info. I like the idea of the flexibility of it and only having 6 months even if its a shitshow and beign able to walk away at the end of it. I really don't want to get a govt job and this is a v govt town which is fine but also, if I can avoid it that would be great. I just know I'm not gunna thrive in that environment.

Need to talk to Dave to get him across the line on the security issue part of that though. I've mostly come a long way in terms of my financial management (thanks YNAB) so I think he'd be ok with it mostly.

So there's a lot to toss up there because......

HOME

We got the reno plans done during lockdown, finally. which was super good. but holy fkn jesus $$$$$$ ++++++++++. The guy is coming around for the final quote on Thursday. We indicatively said $100k total because we're doing kitchen laundry bathroom and toilet. so only the most expensive rooms and when I was talking to him last week he said 'that might cover it' and they're seeing cost escalations of 7-10% a week which is just insane. we're not doing anything structural apart from putting in a cavity slider in the bathroom, and the quote they'll give us won't include flooring since they won't do it.

Meanwhile, the prefab homes I were looking at for our site were $425k fully done. Like, I'm not going to spend $130K on doing up my 1940s ex state house ya know? That's not good cost benefit ratio.

So depending on what that comes out at on thursday we'll be able to make some plans.

We also want to start trying for kids next year and need these renos done first - I am not having kids and no dishwasher lol.

Also we need bank financing so good to be in a permanent stable job for that application. the good thing is we have so much equity we know we can borrow whatever we need, I just don't want to spend that much money on it because it's fkn ridiculous. and if I'm going on maternity leave we need to be able to cover it all on dave's salary and whatever benefits I have as well so there;s a lot of financial planning and spreadsheeting going on at the moment lol. it's fab.

either way. we've got plenty of options up our sleeve. we've got friends who's brother owns a building company so we can talk to them, we've got the garage so we can get things prefabricated even if they're not installed til next year, Dave can get shit at cost through his work for whiteware, there;s plenty of things to like cost control we can do, we just need to know where we're starting from basically. thats the challenging part. but we'll figure it out, its just taking longer than I want it to basically.

We also planted up the vege garden for the spring/summer which was lovely, super jazzed about that. we've finally got the garden to a reasonably low maintenance level where everything is mostly under control and it's such a relief, honestly.

PERSONAL

Man what a shift to lockdown last year honestly. I think the last 8 weeks in particular has just been like, a massive reality check of how absolutely shit the last year was and how fucking glad I am to be rid of it. I spent a week absolutely spiralling 2 weeks ago now and honestly, I don't know how I lived in the state for more than a year. I actually don't know how I did it. and I could not be more glad that I'm finally on the other side of it, for the most part. There's still a bunch of other stuff to work through (hahahahahaha when is there not like damn) but fucking hell its nice to just not be anxious and nauseous and wound up constantly. life is actually accessible. miracle.

My workmate had his bebe - I went round and got newborn cuddles and was like, oh, is this what it is to be clucky? this is odd. so there's that as well. I think we'll probably start trying next year pending renos and jobs etc. If the renos can be done in jan I'll prob just stick it at the job to get the benefits but I dunno. it's a tough call to make really. we shall see. This all assumes we get knocked up without any issues which is questionable these days. I really want to feel healthier before getting pregnant as well, and part of that is losing weight. however, given discussing that is what triggered the spiral we're working on that one slowly.

Also, lets have a moment for counselling, because fkn bless anne and all her hard work honestly. I actually ended up emailing her being like, I;m losing my shit on the monday and then talked to her on thursday. And its so funny because it's such a counselling thing but I didn't realise until afterwards what she'd done but she was like you're clearly not doing well and then the night before dave got a fkn miserable migraine and he was up for like, 2 hrs powerchucking except he didn't make it to the bathroom in time so guess who was cleaning up vomit at 130am trying not to chuck herself but I digress. anyway, not doing well, couldn't even explain why, didn't even have words and super tired and she's like, what lynaire up to this week how's she going with izzy and chat about that and then be like how are you feeling about your body and then 5 more mins of chat about the cat and the chickens and then like bam hard question and then hows it going with x and y and z and its like, it wasn't til I was on my walk afterwards when I FINALLY started feeling marginally better I was like damn woman work your magic for figuring it out for me and helping me reregulate. all over the phone as well since we were still in lockdown. GREAT WORK FRIEND.

and then last week was like totally fucked theoretical discussion about religion and the role it's played in my life and fate vs free will and all this nutty shit but genuinely just a great discussion. She's the best and I love her. thank good for good counsellors. thank god I can afford to pay for it honestly.

Dave and I are just chugging along, god bless that man. I love him. its amazing. I miss having friends close by but understand why they had to move (boooooo f u house prices). Family is pretty chill, still not really talking to dave's parents which is nightmarish but we'll deal with that when we need to. gunna have to go and visit them at some point coz dave misses them and I feel for him, I really do. It's the whole boundaries renegotiation I went through with my family last year post wedding blow up and its just not a fun place to be. oh well. can't fix it for him but also I'm not putting up with that level of BS from either of our families once we have children. not gunna happen.

Either way, life is busy and full and fun and I'm enjoying it. Daylight savings starts this weekend too, its october next week WTF and I'm just waiting for 4pm to find out what's gunna happen to our girls trip. Clearly we cancelled our sept trip to christchurch and akaroa and hanmer springs so my covid travel curse continues. fkn ridic. Still dunno what we're gunna do with $2500 of flight credits coz if we get knocked up theres def no international trips happening any time soon.

thus concludes the almost 2000 word write up of life. hope you've enjoyed it. I'll throw up some pics in a separate post if people care about reno plans. such a good time!

[cinematicnomad]

@buckleyevan replied to your post: 91-98

Yes tell me more if you want 😊😘

OKAY. the story of the first time i ever got drunk. let’s set the scene. 

it’s december 13, 2005 in kathmandu, nepal. i’m in 9th grade and all of the high school is wrapping up our winter finals. my high school was small (80 kids) and so everyone would take our finals at the same time in the gym—we’d all sit for our history exam on the same morning, then our english exam, our science, math, etc, etc. anyway, december 13th was our last exam day and we only had one in the morning, then school was out. it was tuesday and school was closed the following day so our teachers could all finish grading our papers. 

and it was my friend devi’s birthday. 

at some point that fall we’d decided that we were going to throw a huge party for her. and someone, somehow, somewhere along the line found out that it wasn’t all that expensive to rent out a club—fire club, specifically. i think at most we each had to throw in like $20 tops? and we were able to rent it out for the afternoon/evening. 

so we all got ready, piled into a taxi cab, and headed to downtown thamel at like...2PM in the afternoon. and we started drinking. right away. tequila shot after tequila shot after tequila shot.

(this became unreasonably long, so if anyone wants to read about a completely dangerously irresponsible night out i experienced when i was 14 please feel free to click the read more button)

here’s some added context that makes things weirder: the week before was our winter dance? and a group of us had gone out drinking beforehand and we had met a group of guys who claimed to be tibetan monks (were they?? who knows, but that’s what they told us and that’s what we believed and i’ll never know otherwise now). they started drinking with us and one of them started making out with a friend of mine, henna. eventually we went to a club and one of them shoved his tongue down my throat and i had to literally run away. my friend who had been making out with one of them, who was drunk and dumb and 15 at the time, invited them to come to the dance so they followed us and tried to get in. thankfully they weren’t allowed. BUT, my drunk dumb friend gave my phone number to the one who had tried to kiss me. and he proceeded to call me. non-stop. like...40+ missed calls in one night. i basically turned my phone off for the next two months because he kept calling me. 

ANYWAY, that was a bit of a digression but it’s relevant because: henna invited those so-called tibetan monks to devi’s party. including the one who was basically stalking me at this point. so my friends kept plying me with shots as...comfort? i don’t know. eventually he tried to approach me, and i grabbed the hand of victor, the 12th grader i had a crush on (who...i think at this point had confessed that he also had a crush on me?? i THINK) and dragged him onto the dance floor. and eventually we started making out. 

and then my memory of the evening gets kind of hazy. i know at one point victor and i went up to the roof of fire and drank with some of his friends. we kept dancing. at some point he and i left fire club and went to a bar called tom & jerry’s and sat with some other random people from school. and then we wound up at this restaurant called OR2K and we found this guy patrick sitting by himself. patrick was this mysterious junior who was best known for taking all the drugs (and eventually left school to attend rehab after he offered his mother some literal horse ketamine) and i was, by this point, very very very drunk, and so convinced victor that we should sit with patrick. 

patrick was smoking a joint which...i as a 14 year old did not realize was a joint, and so i took it from him at one point to try. which pissed patrick off and he left. and that was about the time that i fully realized just how truly wasted i was. i wound up laying down with my head in victor’s lap for the rest of the evening as more and more of my friends found their way to OR2K. 

OR2K was an interesting restaurant. it was vegetarian and offered a lot of israeli food. you had to take off your shoes before you could sit cross legged on pillows around a table. the only lights in the restaurant were black lights and there was a lot of fluorescent paint on the walls...but also along one half of the restaurant there were giant holes in the walls. like, instead of window panes there was just empty space and they had a tarp set up that they could tie closed if it started raining. but it was basically the go to restaurant for my friends and i to meet up at and so it was a safe bet that everyone would wind up there at some point in the night. OR2K was also on like...the 3rd or 4th floor of a building? and the way to get into the restaurant was by climbing up this narrow stairwell along the outside of the building. 

eventually victor had to leave and we all walked outside to the stairwell. victor kissed me goodbye, left, and...LITERALLY almost immediately i leaned over the side of the stairwell and puked. which, puking from four flights up is a really fucking weird experience. 

ANYWAY. we (me, devi, katrina, ari, henna, and rei) all piled into a taxi cab and headed to katrina’s home. her parents were out that night and i basically made myself at home in front of the guest toilet while wrapped up in a spare duvet. the rest of the girls put on the 1998 movie armageddon. ari fell asleep on the couch at some point. i kept trying to hang out with them but after a few minutes i’d have to run back to the bathroom to throw up. her parents came home at some point and talked to the other girls but didn’t see me in the bathroom. 

i remember at one point i managed to fall asleep on the couch and when i woke up it was the end of the movie. katrina, devi, henna, and rei were wrapped up in blankets and holding each other while full on sobbing and i just...looked at them confused and then felt my stomach lurch and bolted for the bathroom to throw up again. 

that was basically the end of the night! i was able to fall asleep with everyone else and in the morning i went home (after katrina’s parents let me know how surprised they were to realize i was at their home in the first place). i couldn’t hold down my lunch which is when i told my parents the lie about having food poisoning, and i didn’t eat anything at dinner because of that lie. 

the last thing i remember about that adventure: i was on the phone with victor, flirting, and my mom came in my bedroom. she looked me dead in the eye and said, “are you hungover?” i basically fell off my bed, i was so surprised at the question (and fucking victor was laughing his head off on the phone) and i stammered out some response repeating the food poisoning lie. and my mom looked at me, smiled, and said, “i didn’t think you were, but your father and i wouldn’t be good parents if we didn’t ask” 

SO. that is the story of the first time i ever got drunk. i definitely got drunk again, and some of those stories are also wild, but to be honest, i’m not sure there are many that come close to the insanity of this first experience. 

[hardcore-homemaker]

Weakness & Strength

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

This verse is resonating with me in a new and profound way. Recently my husband and I were once again led to pursue something new and a little scary.

Since we've been married, there's been lots of "new" things that God has led us towards, but not too. School pursuits, job openings, business opportunities, church plants... And we've spent a lot of time in prayer and discussion about them only to discover that what God had for us was not what we thought, but the continuing process of learning to walk in faith.

For me, it's been a process of learning to trust God in the face of huge change. For my husband, it's been learning to be content where he's been placed when things aren't going to change.

I digress a little, but it's important to know where we are.

This newest avenue of interest (I'm not free to share what it is yet) has been a crazy new journey with lots of new lessons, and it's still in it's baby stages. Basically, a ministry position unexpectedly opened in our church.

As soon as we heard about it we both felt drawn to it. We actually dropped everything we were doing that afternoon to discuss it and write things down and basically make sure we were on the same page.

Then we prayed. We spent several weeks praying about it (my husband probably more than me, as he seems to have a gifting in that). We also asked some of our close friends and mentors if they thought we were fit for the position and if they would also pray for us.

Then we submitted our candidacy for the position to the elders.

The weird part about all this is that neither of us feel qualified for this position. We believe that we could be a good fit, for sure. There's lots of reasons that we would be good in this position *logically*.

But we know our own hearts, and we know our own flaws, and we know the demands of the position. It seems unthinkable that there ISN'T someone vastly more qualified and more experienced.

And every time I consider it, it seems insane and wildly arrogant to think that we could face the task with any confidence.

BUT

I keep falling back on the assurance that God has led us to do this. That he has given us peace in pursuing it, and I believe, preemptive peace if we end up being passed over for the task. Our hearts feel set on the ministry being run well, not on us running the ministry. (Though we do have a personal desire to take the position as God grows our hearts for the ministry.)

"Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."

My weaknesses and inadequacies are undeniably laid before me, and yet God leads us upward and onward in grace, through his strength, by faith. Glory to God!

[chrysolina]

Clinging to you

Asks - Hiii! How’re u? I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader is dating cevans, and over hears I’m saying that she’s too clingy and he might break up with her? Then she avoids him for days. And the reason she’s clingy is bc she thinks she’s going to lose him? But chris didn’t know that and realizes how much he misses and loves her? Love ur page btw seriously - anon

Hiii! Can you do a fic with cevans x girl reader. She overheard him saying that she’s too clingy and sometimes he just wants to be alone and is thinking abt breaking up w her and so she ignores him for days but he doesn’t know why but they get into a fight about it after ? Basically angst to fluff? -

Thank you both for this amazing ask!! Here it is, hope you enjoy 💕

Summary - Chris is getting tired - tired of your clinginess to him. So much so, he wants to end your five year relationship - but how can you with a massive obstacle soon to be in the way?

Word count - 2.6k

Warnings - angst, swearing, fluff, mention of sex

M A S T E R L I S T

Photoshoots, Chris hated them. As much as he was a kind soul and wasn’t one to complain, he wasn’t having any of it today. A humid, gripping air hung around LA the whole day and the studio was no different, the air-con was trying it’s best to cool everyone but with the recent heatwave that had just passed, it just wasn’t enough.

Ever since he was a baby, Chris never liked the heat - period - it still made him as cranky, snappy and generally frustrated at the most mundane or innocent of things even now, thirty six years later.

Through all the hair styling, outfit changes, prop swapping, flashes and clicks of the camera, he was continuously keeping his cool - until you, literally, stepped through the door of the studio. He didn’t understand why but as of late, you had been rather clingy with him - far too clingy, if Chris had further words for it.

He hadn’t dared to say it to you yet but your incessant clinginess only made him want to tear away from you and call it quits. He was a lone spirit, an independent one at that and he just couldn’t stand the cramped feeling you gave him whilst you were around him.

You smiled, waved and said hi to him whilst the hairdressers were sorting his hair, like most would, you expected him to smile back and either tell you to come see him or say hey back but no, Chris just glared daggers into you, making your happy go-lucky smile drop in an instant. You didn’t digress too much over it however, you shrugged it off and went off to the lunchtime buffet that had just opened on the other side of the studio.

After a while, things weren’t adding up. The head photographer had called it time for lunch just over twenty minutes ago and Chris hadn’t showed up. With a huff, you asked his and your manager if he knew where he went, to which he replied ‘I think he went to his dressing room darling’, you thanked him and paced quickly to Chris’ room.

Halfway through your walk, a god-awful gut feeling stabbed your insides like a katana ‘what if he doesn’t want to see me? What if he’s mad at me?’ You shrugged off the thoughts, clenched your now incredibly valuable handbag closer to you and kept walking.

The dressing rooms were deadly silent bar your heeled sandals clicking on the tiled floor, a cool air whipped past your neck and made you hold your body whilst it shivered. Although it was from afar, you could hear Chris’ voice bellow through his dressing room and seep out of the flimsy door and its gaps, making you puzzle at the anger in his voice.

You didn’t want to knock the door and ask how he was, as bad as it was you wanted to listen to what on Earth had got him so riled up and moreover, who he was talking to.

As best as you could, you stayed pressed against the wall next to his door and steadied your breathing so you could hear what he had to say. “You have no clue how fucking ridiculous she’s being right now man,” who was he on about? “She’s driving me fucking insane with her constant fucking neediness!” He wasn’t talking about you..was he?

“Chris I’m sure it’s just a phase,” you knew who’s voice that was on the speakerphone, Scott. “Y/N’s the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Believe me when I say that bro,” wait...was Chris venting about you? Neediness? Your head began to spin with all the accusations.

“More like the worst thing to happen to me.” You could almost visualise Chris’ face when he said that about you. Unbeknownst to you, tears began to cascade down your cheeks freely at the painful words that Chris kept spewing out about you. “She really does make me want to run to the fucking hills Scott.”

“You don’t mean that Chris.”

“The fuck I do, Y/N’s just become too much for me and I can’t stick it anymore...how much will mom and dad hate me if I came back home without Y/N?” No, he wasn’t thinking about this now, of all the times right now he was choosing to do this now?

Before you actually let out a sob, you bolted straight out of there and straight to the ladies toilets to basically bawl your eyes out. You sat on the toilet seat and looked at the pristine photo that sat in your bag, waiting to be shown to the world and more importantly, to Chris; you couldn’t bare to look at the image after hearing what he had to say about you - his fiancée, his supposed ‘rock’, his ‘everything’ - was it all a lie?

After a twenty minute cry alone in the full toilets, you cleaned yourself up, refreshed your makeup and wandered out to an awaiting Chris and your manager. To your disgust, Chris smiled at you like as if you had come back to life from the grave and went to go and hug you but you ducked away from him with a coldness you never thought you’d have.

“Right then Y/N, are you ready?” Your manger asked you kindly, you were to feature in the magazine shoot alongside Chris - due to your own stardom - in some very pleasing photos.

“Actually, can I reschedule it for another day?” You smiled sadly at him and watched out the corner of eye Chris’ brows furrowing in question.

“I think I must’ve eaten something disagreeable and I kinda threw up in the toilet just now,” you partly lied clean through your teeth and smiled weakly at your manager, your colourless parlour catching his eye.

He was the first to know about your recent stomach bug that had lingered in you for the longest while now and was quick to understand your position right now, being sick in this heat must be awful.

“Of course, how about I bargain for this Friday? It’ll give a bit of time then,” he smiled and ignored Chris head moving from you to his manager a flurried way. Three days to get well again and do the appropriate precautions, a squeeze but perfect.

“Wonderful, thank you so so much Charles.” You sighed, waved your goodbyes to everyone bar Chris and paced off to your car in the parking lot.

Without notice, a large hand caught your forearm and pulled you back a step of two. “Where’re you going Y/N/N?” Chris partially snapped at you and tried to look you deep in the eye but the facade you put on prevented him from doing so.

“I’m going home Chris,” You snapped and yanked your hand out of his vice-like grip with such a strength, it made him look twice. Chris panicked, he needed to talk to you and ask you where you were going.

As quick as he could, his hand caught yours and held you still. “Why? Y/N what’s going on?” Chris whined and pleaded to you like a child who wanted his favourite candy. You clicked your teeth and yanked your hand away again, this time taking a step away for precautions sake and kept your handbag close to you.

“Nothing that’d concerns you.” You snapped furiously and steamed away to your car around the back of the studio, your hand holding the side of your stomach protectively.

What a mess the supposed best day of your life had turned out to be.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Instead of holing yourself up for the rest of the afternoon and evening, you chose to be as productive as possible with your free time before Chris came back home to your shared LA home.

You out all your clothes in suit protectors int he wardrobe and kept everything neatly together in case the worst came to be tonight, you cleaned the house, baked a chocolate cake for all times sake, took Dodger for a walk around the local trail and emptied your valuables from your shared safe in your dresser.

By the time the photo shoot was finished and they were packing away, you were all set for the worst and was calmly watching the evening lights flicker in the distance, your feet dangling peacefully in the pool, Dodger laying next to you and your phone.

Like the devil’s calling, you could hear the said actor’s car pulling into the driveway, the engine stop and the door slam shut with a loud slam that jolted Dodger out of his dazed slumber. Before Dodger could get up and run to see Chris, he had already come through the door and likewise, slammed it shut with a fury that made you sick to stomach.

“Y’know you can sometimes be a real bitch Y/N Y/L/N!” Chris yelled and echoed through the entire house, his footing more like stomps as he neared your form by the pool. Dodger jumped out of the way and paced back in the house, as if he already knew to leave his parents alone.

“It’s part of my speciality.” You deadpanned and kept your head forward, refusing to look at Chris who stood beside you.

“Sixteen times Y/N, sixteen times I called and you never answered. Lord knows how many times I text you.” Chris ranted and raved and paced back and forth behind you. You didn’t budge though, you just stared off into the distance holding your tongue from saying something real bad.

“Look who’s being the clingy one now, Christopher.” You chided with a dead-like face and smiled internally once the pacing stopped and you could feel Chris’ eyes on your head. Chris’ heart dropped mike and miles at your words and immediately thought back to the heated conversation he had with Scott earlier.

He couldn’t articulate any words and only looked at you stunned. “No words now, hm? You seemed to have plenty earlier, didn’t you Christopher?” This time your urned to look him dead in the eye with a glare that could easily freeze over hell and its counterparts.

Slowly, you rose to your feet and stood only a few inches away from Chris’ sullen form, eyeing him up as of you were going to murder him.

‘How did you hear...” Chris trailed off and let his mouth go slack at the sight of you, red eyed and pale as a dead person - he did this to you, he knew it.

You scoffed at the Bostonian as if he had said something utterly ridiculous. “C’mon Chris, anyone at leat ten foot away could hear you slagging me off!” You snapped and pushed past him back into the house, your feet getting especially wet.

“I wasn’t slagging you off!” Chris suddenly shouted from the patio doors, making you stop dead in your tracks.

“Weren’t you? Cause it sure fucking sounded like that Chris.” You snapped him off again and began to walk to the staircase.

“I had every right to do so Y/N!” Chris’ voice echoed around the house and made you stop again, this time with tears rolling down your cheeks.

“You’ve been so clingy and up in my business lately, it’s driving me fucking insane. ‘Oh Chris help me here. Chris can I come with you here. Can I come with you there. Can you tell me this, that and the other. Come with me here Chris. Do this Chris. Do that Chris.’ Do you get what I’m saying Y/N?” Chris yelled at you shaking form and didn’t let up, not like he saw your shaking anyways.

“You’re clingy Y/N, admit you did wrong and apologise.” Chris demanded and it made your blood boil in rage. Apologise? Apologise for being unwell? Apologise for being pregnant with his child? Your stubbornness wouldn’t allow it.

Instead of doing the usuals yell at each other gimmick, you turned around and sulked towards him as if you were sorry, as if you had a lot to apologise for. Chris’ cold glare never left you whilst you stood before him, your eyes plastered to the floor. “Tomorrow is coming Y/N. Anything would do.”

Without any second thought, you stood straight and slapped him straight across the face, sending him stumbling back a step or two. “Give me a fucking break Evans! Five years we’ve been together and you were willing to throw it all under the bus and run away just because I’ve been a little clingy lately?” You screeched at him, not daring to hold back.

“I hope you’ve got a big heart because I’ve fucking over this bullshit. You wanna throw away us, fine but just remember, you’ll also be throwing away a possible son or daughter too.” Your voice broke into a sob near the end of your speech. You couldn’t stand it anymore, to stand here in his presence was making you feel light on your feet in the worst possible way.

You didn’t bother to look back at Chris and bolted for the stairs, cradling your small bump and holding your head in the process. Your ran to your once-shared bedroom and shut the door tight, your legs giving away and crumbling from beneath you once your back hit the thick wood.

It could’ve been minutes or hours later, you felt yourself being hoisted off the floor bridal style and placed gently on your bed. Your eyes fluttered at the sudden feeling of wet salty lips on your own, you didn’t know what to do; reciprocate the kiss or leave it?

Reciprocate or leave?

No matter how cumbersome his words were on your mind, Chris was your one love, your fiancé, your everything and you couldn’t imagine anyone else filling that role; ever.

Just before he was going to pull away, your smaller hands flew to his bearded cheeks and pulled him back down to kiss you like never before. It was a kiss that neither of you had ever shared before, it was so powerful, so loving and so apologetic you couldn’t help but allow Chris’ frame to slide in between your legs and his arms circle around you like a warm blanket.

Once you opened your eyes, you were met with the face of a scared, broken and elated Chris who looked like he had been slapped square in the face with - oh wait, he had.

You tentatively touched the bright red area and watched him wince at the touch, much to your horror. “What did I do to you..” you mumbled in a breath and rubbed his other cold, wet cheek with your thumb.

“No baby, what did I do to you?” Chris’ forehead leant against yours lovingly and stared into you Y/E/C eyes longingly.

“Where shall I start?” You tried to lighten the mood with your joke but it seemed to be taken the other way once Chris’ lips met yours again in a steamy, passionate kiss.

“Let me make it up to you Y/N...” Chris sighed into your mouth, hooked one of your legs around his hips and ground his forming erection softly against your core, giving you the precise idea he had.

“So long as you don’t go a-wall on us again, then yes. Love me, Chris.” You sighed at the motion down below and slowly under the belt of Chris’ jeans.

Tags - @patzammit

A/N: if anyone’s up for it, I’m thinking of doing a small smut following this watery ass ending lol. If anyone’s interested ofc * (:

*A/N: since school stuff has got mega crazy all of a sudden I may put a future smut off until I can get around to it!! So sorry everyone!! )):

[abiteofnat]

ON THIS EDITION OF “ATE MY WAY THROUGH ________”... 

We damn well ate our way through S E A T T L E! Me and my stand-in husband Sheila went on a four day trip to the West Coast for some good, good eating and do-not-even-think-of-packing-anything-but-Nikes walking. Quickly we found some of the top secret spots, not-so-secret spots, and also that climbing the incline to get anywhere will immediately make you hungry even if you just ate. NO PROBLEM FOR THIS SQUIRREL. 

Seattle has always been my *dream* destination, just as for some Australia or Switzerland might be theirs. There’s something about a) the mountains and the water being right alongside a populated city, b) the fact it’s known for coffee, and c) it being somewhere totally different than where I live. I think a couple years ago I could have been labeled as a a “Manhattan Girl”: always in a skirt or dress, embracing the insanity of a daily routine, and needing to be in the bustle of a city too small for all the people in it. Now, I think I’ve gotten old and tired, so the mountains and some fresh as fuck air appeal to me. I found myself very at home in this coastal city of Seattle, where everything just seems content as it is and people are in no hurry to get anywhere. Everyone is in comfy but cute clothes (there’s a Free People or a Patagonia every 3 feet) and no foot is without a stylish athletic trainer. There’s a sense of purpose to get anywhere since it’s not like public transit mandates, so walking is your best option and it will make you SWEAT to get where you want to go. We stayed at the Thompson Seattle right near Pike Place Market and W O W  it couldn’t have been any better- seriously, this place is a newly constructed beauty of a building with a chic, “organic” lobby including a life-size knit bear statue and cozy couches under a bookshelf. Our room was a deluxe queen suit facing the Puget Sound and in the distance you could see the mountains, ALREADY WORTH THE MONEY. Big white bed and a huge TV? YEP, TAKE ALL MY MONEY. CAN YOU SEE A WHALE BREACHING IN THE WATER? MAYBE. 

After we settled into our minimalist-Pinterest palace we went on a walk to see what was all around us and literally stumbled onto Pike Place Market, which STOLE my heart. Heart is now gone, it’s amidst the fish and the flowers and the mac & cheese and the smell of excitement in the air. Pike Place is like an eternal Sunday; you can’t go there and not want to buy some roses and a sachet of lavender to smell when you just want to smell it and feel boho cool. While it’s overwhelming when it’s packed (i.e., Saturday afternoon when we first went, yikes) and you WILL want to elbow everyone, just take in all the colors and smells because it’s such an exhilarating experience. There’s fresh produce out the whazoo and some very nice merchants selling their wares; I bought two stunning photos from a photographer of Seattle in the rain because it was not rainy the whole time (so apparently that’s just a lie that it’s ALWAYS RAINING OH MY FUCKIN GOD) and also of sunflowers since they’re my favorite and they look so lovely amidst the neon signs lining the great hall. Guys, the neon signs get me. When I have money and the ability to own an apartment one day I’m making a hundred neon signs to put on the walls that say dumb cute shit. I am that girl. 

Pike Place Market offers a little something for everything. Fan favorites include Beecher’s Cheese where you can sample cheese and get the world’s best mac & cheese, the greek yogurt place that is beloved by all dairy eaters, and my favorite- Three Girls Bakery. During it’s stay in the market that has lasted over 100 years, they have perfected the art of the cookie, brownie, and rugelach, as well as fresh-made croissants and a variety of European specialties. I was drawn to this little biddy of a store because it has, guess what, a lovely neon sign, and also because I smelled baking chocolate and knew I would crave a late night yummy when lying in the hotel watching Hawaii 5-0. Best decision of my life. I got a walnut brownie and a peanut butter chocolate chip cookie, as well as a tiny raspberry rugelach for something fruity, and nothing was bad. These treats are classics made right, and I drool thinking about that peanut butter cookie with hunks of chocolate mixed in. Chewy, salty, sweet, and straight outta the market. Can’t get better! 

But, after wandering and deciding that Seattle was my new favorite place in the entire world, we needed to try some FOOD. We went to Bacco Cafe, kitty corner to our hotel, where there’s always a wait but they make sure to move it quickly and the food is WORTH IT. Sheila and I decided to split the eggs benny because I got her hooked on them months ago, and then for something sweet we got the french toast covered in sweet, fresh fruit and topped with powdered sugar. The best part of both these plates was the rosemary potatoes- oh, my god. The whole inside of the cafe smells of rosemary, and from the bar where we sat you can watch them chopping up dozens of potatoes and throwing them around in vats of spices and olive oil, and Jesus they were some of the best breakfast potatoes I’ve ever had. Crispy, flavorful, and then followed by a bite of scrumptious french toast I was in heaven. I saw people putting ketchup on them and was disgusted because if you need ketchup to enjoy food you’re a sad person who enjoys the taste of acid instead of the food you bought. Nope. Also, it should be said the eggs benny was cooked up so well and the hollandaise sauce was rich but not saturating the whole thing, which can happen often when there’s a sauce on a somewhat runny egg. Seriously, go to Bacco Cafe, there’s a fresh juice bar and menu to start you off and then the best breakfast in the best location. 

Later as we wandered ALL over the city and spent a while at the Chihuly Garden and Glass museum, which is stunning and an excellent use of time and money, we lucked out with a sunny afternoon and decided to get a refreshment before the dreaded Space Needle tourist trap that we felt simply compelled to conquer. Truth be told, I really admire the architecture and dazzle of the Space Needle, as it was built completely manually using new-age elevator technology for the time and involved thousands of workers who usually worked sans- safety belt or anything and just did it for the experience. But the height? Hell no. It’s a disk balancing on a skinny lil pole and I have issues with elevators and man-made contraptions, however I can say we survived and it was 100% worth it to go up there and see all the mountains. I’m a sucker for a skyline! 

I digress, back at the museum we found a greenhouse cafe with lovely looking food and more importantly, strawberry lemonade, which is easily the best of the lemonades. It was a great location to enjoy a drink and a couple hours of free time, with views of the needle above and peeks at the Chihuly sculptures outside in the gardens (which you can somewhat see in the picture of Sheila). Sheila got hot tea from the hot waiter because she’s classier than I am (note the turtleneck). Check out their brunch deal that happens on the weekend if you’re visiting soon or live locally: https://www.chihulygardenandglass.com/events/brunch-art  

With other little bites along the way and a couple stops at Starbucks to keep us fueled, we experienced day one to the fullest and for the sake of how long this post is already I’ll save our delicious dinner for the next one :) Vacation with me, you eat a lot!!! 

Until the next post with part dos of savoring Seattle, Happy Eating! 

-Natalie 

[chiseler]

THE FRANKFURT SCHOOL FOR WAYWARD GIRLS

Putting "acceptable" limits on depravity in the name of compromise and "reality" is how fascism eventually triumphs. Or so said Professor Yvonne De Carlo of 'Miss Yvonne's Academy for Wayward Hussies' also known as 'The Frankfurt School' --  a place of higher learning for delinquent, pregnant scholars. "Your new president is merely proof that the depraved nature of power is given license by tolerating all but its excesses" said Professor De Carlo as she powdered her ample cleavage in full view of the astonished, pinafore-clad undergrads gathered for her lecture on the 'Dialectic of Fascism and French Manicures Made Easy-Peasy'.

"You want to know what brought Trump to power? Hint: It wasn't a sudden, inexplicable, sewage-strewn wave of raw hatred poised to strike down public schools, libraries and national parks at the behest of a braying, stupid mob of "privileged" former factory workers. It wasn't merely insanity wrought by decades of institutional neglect or unchecked greed -- although that was a big part of it. It was *nice* people willing to accept certain 'realities' to ensure their place at the proverbial table remained a pristine space of individually apportioned, locally sourced food; a place where rhetorical restraint replaced actual political solutions to any given problem.

You chose 'safe' over actual justice -- meaning someone else's kid will take a police bullet to the chest so that we can all read heavily redacted versions of Mark Twain in the peace and comfort of a colorful ball pit of higher learning like our own Frankfurt School, which I should mention was only made possible by a generous corporate donation from a multi-national purveyor of processed pork by-products with vaguely German origins. At the end of it, you'll all be awarded a certificate declaring you free from venereal diseases, and the skills necessary to lower live poultry into a vat of ammonia in a subsidiary facility owned by our trustees. At your age, I was performing burlesque numbers on the mean streets of my Canadian homeland at the behest of my stage mother. But I'll tell you all about that later in the term when we cover 'Hoochie-Coochie Cave Dancing of the Early Ottoman Empire - as Explained by a scantily-clad Miss Yvonne Waving a Jewel-Encrusted Saber'. Consider that your 'trigger warning'. Now let's proceed:

It was enough that we embraced Caitlyn Jenner and applauded Meryl Streep giving the phone book version of the Gettysburg Address to her wealthy patrons -- I could give a better soliloquy while swallowing a sword and balancing a cobra on my head, but I digress . . . It was enough to sprout a 'dad boner' over Pussy Riot to declare ourselves -- "punk rock", even as we devised ways to make earth's human and animal life redundant during brainstorming meetings that took place in an indoor ergonomic playground that served wheat grass martinis on tap. My dear friend Frederick Marcuse who took me under his bosom . . . or was that the other way around . . . argued that the technocratic efficiency of advanced, industrial societies had rendered it 'one-dimensional', and as such, resistant to all critiques of it. Our "aversion to introspection" according to Adorno -- another generous benefactor to the Frankfurt School -- renders left-opposition to Trump little more than an elite-led, sour grape authoritarianism that is unable to contemplate its own role in a paradigmatic shift towards a more 'unprincipled' and unpredictable variety of global aggression. If you don't believe him, just ask a white feminist how writing 'rape culture' on her boobs in sharpie will 'shame the patriarchy', and this will give you some idea about why I start every afternoon coughing up a ball of mentholated phlegm into my cornflakes.

Let me tell you what brought us to this precise moment of imminent planetary collapse: It was "nice" people with library cards and rescue pets accepting the kind of compromises that result in bulldozing homes in the occupied territories of Palestine, imprisoning whistle blowers, putting indigenous land everywhere under threat, and even sodomizing a half dead Pan-African leader while he lay dying in a drainpipe.  

It's the 'realists' who sign off on nearly $40 billion in military 'aid' to Israel so that it can build more settlements in defiance of International law, and the similarly counterproductive reasoning that blames Russian hackers for the DNC's corrupt maneuvering to install its preferred Wall Street-friendly candidate in defiance of roughly half the voting population. The same folks who cry foul the loudest when an asshole takes his rightful place on the golden, Imperial throne after they have spent years polishing it for him, and expanding its powers to flush away civil liberties and environmental protections. Now all of a sudden that reclining, ermine-trimmed commode in the Oval Office is a "hot seat". Back in the day when I was bumping and grinding on the Paramount lot for chump change, Charlton would grab me by the pussy and . . . well, never mind that now. Let's just say that my jungle cat put up a fierce resistance that left a permanent scar on his manhood and not a single scratch on my lady mandibles.  Not sure where any of this is going, but anyhoo . . .

It's the 'nice' -- meaning the technocratically-minded gatekeepers of the 'left', who perform the linguistic feats necessary to justify, say, the involuntary sacrifice of dozens of dead Bedouin wedding celebrants in Yemen to maintain cordial relations with a despotic petrostate that helps prop up a neighboring Apartheid regime equally ill-disposed towards its benefactor. 'This is why we can't have nice things like brutalist revolving restaurants atop Manhattan office towers', they will remind you. Ingrates like you always second-guessing the stuff we do to prevent maniacs from seizing power here at home'. The nice among us, whom we used to call 'Good Germans', prefer that you don't bring 'false equivalency' into reasoned discussion about state-sponsored murder, and focus on the positive . . . like . . . um . . . 'At least under Trump, my sad face selfies will have all the political urgency of Guernica'.  

It's the "nice" that refused to hold Obama's feet to the fire, giving him carte blanche to capitulate wholly to the more clamorous and opportunistic voices of his inner circle without ever troubling his conscience. The guy was so cool he could grant clemency to Chelsea Manning AND bomb a failed state into further oblivion all in the same week. "Nice" folks would never venture into the treacherous waters of condemning or even criticizing your country's first black president for reasons entirely to do with the sort of career-minded, self-preservation that says "Bummer about Leonard Peltier, but Michelle Obama sure rawked that Zac Posen dress on the cover of Vogue!"

When someone *reaches across the aisle*, it's usually to grasp at the last straws of power allotted to them by whichever democratically elected fascist regime happens to control Congress. Or it's a hands-y director trying to cop a feel on a red-eye flight from LA. Yes, Otto Preminger, I'm talking to YOU!

To make a long-winded lecture only as long as it takes to dry one's nails after the second coat of Revlon's 'Dead Roses on a Dusky Tomb': Trump didn't win in spite of your 'reasoned' acceptance of the outgoing president's expanded powers, but because you were willing to rationalize its unsavory aspects long enough to ensure its unchecked and unbridled form reached its inevitable conclusion".

Professor De Carlo then flounced out of the lecture hall with the scent of Shalimar, and two or three shirtless Cabana boys trailing behind her discarded veils. "I'm off to powder my you know what. Class -- and I mean the particular one that conflates legal weed smoking with political resistance - dismissed"!

by Jennifer Matsui

[ariahdnes]

a through g!!!

i answered a, b, & c here & e here! 

d. do you have your poetry organized or are you more likely to write half a stanza on a one dollar bill and then spend it by accident?

haha, my poetry is so not organized. i have some written on my notes app on my phone & my laptop, others in corners of my notebook pages, some on my facebook notes, others in drafts here on tumblr, little snippets on twitter, some in text messages to my writer friends, & i even find some in titles for my english essays, too. like i’ll be thinking of a title for the paper & it ends up being like, the first line of a poem i write later that afternoon when i’m procrastinating writing the paper. it’s insane how chaotic writing my poetry is. but i always try to have a sheet of paper or notes document open titled “heroic lines” where i just jot down all of the lines that come to me during the day & that’s about as organized as i get. 

f. what was the last poem that you loved?

i will never get tired of praising @existential-celestial‘s “ad lucem” to the heavens above. it is such a beautiful poem. it also just happens to be the last poem that i’ve read that i really, really love. just the meaning of the phrase “ad lucem” is what does it for me, & the last line. “to the light”. it just resonates so strongly with me that i can’t get the whole poem out of my head most of the time. but the last line. oh holy. the last line. absolutely beautiful. 

g. do you write about people or landscapes?

i usually write about people. whether it be pieces of myself, or others, or just images or ghosts or echoes i see in people. if i’m writing about landscapes, i humanize them to point that they become people, but every once in a while, i’ll write a good two lines or so about the night sky, & how much i wish i could touch the stars, or how holy & pure i feel when their tears fall, but even then though, i write the night sky like it’s a human, so i don’t write landscapes too often. however, i am working on a novel series right now, and one of the major places in the story is firmly a landscape, but i mean, i do humanize it a little, but not to the extent that i do in my poetry. it might just be because fiction writing’s a little different than poetry writing, but, i digress. 

thank you for asking these questions, they were fun to answer! :) feel free to ask more! 

[ceriousc]

My Story

Just was watching an Alayna Joy video and it inspired me to talk about me for a minute. If it helps anyone then I'm glad I shared. Even if that one person it helps is just me. Here goes. I'm 42. I'm American. Born and raised here. I actually strongly hate being called African American. British people are just British, Canadians are just that. We are literally the only country doing this race thing. I'm human race and I'm over it. But I digress. When I was a child I was molested. My older teenage cousins male would touch me in places, rub their privates against me, until I thought it was normal. I remember asking an adult about the actual act and not saying it was being done to me. I was told it was called sex and we don't discuss that ever. Eventually it began to happen to me in my life quite often because I was taught so young not to talk about it I didn't. I remember trying to fit in with older female cousins. I was introduced one day to a game called hide n go get it. The rules were explained to me we seperated and we all split up while young boys searched for us in our hiding spaces. During this time I was caught and was told I had to have sex with a boy. I was 8 at the time. I preceded to go along with it. By this time it wasn't a big deal to me after all of the other stuff going on at the time. Everyone ridiculed and laughed at me. 8 years old being called a slut when you haven't even had the opportunity to develop yet. By 13 my aunt was paying me to watch her kids while her and her husband were supposed to go to work on the weekends. It was great. I'd spend from Thursday night to Sunday at their house. Early one morning after my aunt left for work. It had to be around 5:30ish in the morning, I was woken up by my nightshirt being pulled up and someone pressing their entire body on top of mine. Private being rubbed against my butt hands clasped over mind. Face down almost suffocating inside a pillow. There was a conversation on the way home later. I was told I was attractive. I know I wanted it. We were together now. This was my new hell. After a couple times I couldn't take it. I told someone and apparently I found out years later that an adult overheard and I was bragging about this. Mine you I was 13 at the time. He was in his 30's and married to my aunt and they had children together. But it was my fault I was bragging. I'm off track again. Anyway I stopped going over. He sent me roses and a card. My mother was immediately like what the hell. This isn't something am uncle sends to his niece. I tell her what happened. She believed me. We went to the police. I wasn't a virgin. Strike one. He is military. He took a polygraph test and passed. I get free counseling he gets nothing. My aunt later finds out he's on drugs. They get a divorce he leaves. He then marries a 17 year old girl. He's late 30's. Atleast she's legal but I'm a homewrecker now. I literally spend the rest of my teenage years being drunk and promiscuous. I realized early on in life that I was a lesbian. This was me punishing myself. Hating myself and just believing this is what I deserved. I remember crying and being depressed and self harming. Some people actually told my Mom I was a witch. I don't know why or where that came from but yeah my life. 15 I discovered strippers living on the next street over from my house. I was in heaven. That became my new hangout spot. I would give them back rubs, go to the store for their props ( honey, whip cream, baby oil etc.) I also got to take money at the door, take money in the kitchen while handing out plates of food and drinks. I did have to wear a button down white shirt tied up under my breast and short shorts. I had a grown up body by then. The owner wanted me to sleep with him but at that time I didn't care. I was making money and hanging around good looking totally naked women. School was horrible. I was the known slut. Home was even worse because well same. This house and job were my only outlet. My saviour from suicide. Until people who knew my family eventually told them that I was a dancer there which wasn't even true. But my life changed drastically after. I called that my rock bottom moment. I remember watching a show when I was an adult and the character said just because I'm next to hookers and dressed fancy doesn't mean I'm a hooker. I couldn't help but laugh because it's insane but so very accurate. I was so depressed I would cry all of the time. I wanted to die so badly. I remember praying to be ugly so guys would just leave me alone. If I were fat and ugly then no one would want me. My life would be better. So I stopped dieting, exercising, showering. Anything healthy I stopped doing it. Sad to say that carried over into my adulthood but we are still at teenaged me who now bad getting teased for bad hygiene. I eventually kind of cleaned up my act by junior year so I had to be 16 going on 17. I got accepted into a vocational during the morning and regular school the afternoon. I also got a job. A real tax write off job. So I wasn't drinking, I was pretty decent with my hygiene. No one told me about shaving or importance of skin care or just taking care of yourself in general. I was pretty good though. I had a steady boyfriend. Yep trying to fit in again. I wasn't doing good at school at this time. Bullying was a huge problem so I just started going to work after vocational school. Got incompletes like I thought so I just went to summer school and aced my classes. My steady boyfriend was upset because we weren't having sex. Sex became something I associated with depression and anger. It's a punishment. I didn't get why he was so upset we weren't doing that. Also he'd buy me flowers and make hair and nail appointments for me. I kept wondering why because when we met nothing about me said I was into those things. The only time I would dress up was if I had to for our class interviews or presentations. He started popping up at my job to surprise me with gifts and just get upset because he couldn't find me. Then it would turn into I came up to your job you said you were working where were you. My job I could've been doing a number of things. Cleaning out break room stalls in the back. We couldn't hear speakers back there and at that time loudspeakers were all we had. I hated doing cashiering so I avoided that typically anyone so I'd probably be outside waiting for stock trucks so I can do that. Outside can't loud speakers therefore can't get called to the register. We ended up breaking up after he proposed and we just realized we weren't right for each other. He was a great guy he just wasn't for me. I went back to punishing myself though. Blamed myself for our break up. My grades suffered, I lost my job, and just went to bad habits which included sleeping around again. Also went back to the strippers because they brought me joy. This older guy with money started checking me out. I ended up sleeping with him. It became a thing. I ran away from home and started living on his house boat. It was great at first. I was 17 with my own space. My mom was running around the neighborhood with posters asking have you seen this girl. I was a piece of shit for that. Yes I know. We left Michigan and we took a few strippers with us and moved to Florida. It was wild. The guy bought me clothes and other stuff I needed but he kept hinting at us starting a family. I was trying to figure my shit out. It scared me. We were in Pensacola Fl. When I got hit for the first time. My jaw and eye were swollen. I thought some of my teeth got knocked out too but they were still intact. We argued alot. Faught for a week and then he raped me. I thought the molestation was bad but being raped is 100 times worse. I can't even describe it. My friend immediately came when I called. I didn't want a hospital, no police, I just wanted to shower forever and die. That was my plan. Shower and die. I finally healed enough on the outside that I went home to my parents. I got home and didn't tell anyone about him. Hey I ran to Florida with some strippers. Think whatever you want. I couldn't stay at my house for long. I was having a hard time dealing with anything. Guy kept calling threatening my life and with everything else happening I left again. A guy I would hangout with was still a virgin I thought he was nice. He liked me he was going to Lansing for awhile. I went with him and his family. Me and him were sharing a room we had sex. He didn't see how painful that first time after messed with my head. I smiled got up hopped in the shower and balled my eyes out. Just cried until he knocked on the door. I didn't have any clothes so I had to share with him. I big breast and was walking around with a football Jersey and no bra looking like trash. That's how I was treated. He was nice. He bought me food, and anything that I needed he was cool about. He didn't know the Florida stuff I was dealing with. He knew what was going on at home but he didn't get to find out about Florida. No one did until now. I ended up finding out he was related to me. It's so important to find out your history for reasons like this. So yeah we ended up being cousins. I ended going to prom with my cousin as just my cousin although we had already slept together. Took pictures got my yearbook signed. The next day I joined the Navy. I had a whole year to train and get back in shape. I didn't do that. By the time the departure date came around I had changed my mind about going. I was told I signed up and I had to go. I found out later that wasn't true. There I was in the military. Not shaven. Terrible hygiene. Just overall terrible human being. Not into this. Hate authority figures. Can't stand rules of any kind. So we get haircuts. Uniforms. I rage first atleast two weeks straight. There is only 8. I see some women that I'm attracted to out of 80 women it was bound to happen. Then we have to run. Running was always horrible for me and I found out why. In the Navy where we run every morning. I had an asthma attack. They gave me treatment. I went to my barracks. More running another attack. I forget what day or what week stuff happens but I still get PTSD from coming on my period there. Outside no bathroom around. Immediate bathroom that is. Anyway my period came early. Probably due to stress. Messed up my uniform. There are certain days for you to wash your clothes. People have to clean those washers and dryers probably if they are not cleaned properly the whole crew gets demerits. My menstrual has always been horrible. Military was 10 times worse. I made it through to the end of the menstrual. I was constantly told my hair was growing too fast I needed it cut again. Didn't do that. Couldn't fold my bedding correctly. Was told to shave for swimming I didn't do that either. I know what you are thinking. I agree. I'm there with you. Hygiene has always been a struggle for me. It's my defense mechanism. It's how put a wall up since I can't put a physical one up. I ended up stepping on this girls foot who I didn't know while marching and wearing steel toe boots. We clicked immediately. Fast friends. I fell in love shortly after and didn't know it. I just knew I had to always be around her. I remember once going to the shower. I saw her waiting in line. The way we did showers were two people to a stall. I would've had to shower with her if I hadn't turned around and traded clean up days with a friend so I could shower last and alone. Later before I could jump into bed she asked me why I left showers. I completely played the wtf are you talking about card. She's like I saw you walk in. I'm like oh I didn't see you. I forgot something then just decided to study some more for that test tomorrow. Now everyone knew I didn't do the physical part of training before bootcamp but I memorized that entire book we were given by our recruiter. Basically I just could skim it and it would all come back to me. Graciously she let it go and I went to bed but this kept going for weeks. One day she finally said I know a girl back home like you. I was horrified and shocked. I never had been with a woman, hadn't kissed a girl, nothing with a girl except love her from afar so when she called me on it I was speechless. I went to bed. We had a qualifying run the next day and I think my panic attack I was already having, mixed with asthma attack, and almost became a heartattack. Either way I was told right before graduating and after receiving awards for most improved cadet that I had to leave. 7th week 2nd day only five more days to go. I wouldn't graduate. We laid in bed and I got to hold her and tell her goodbye as we cried. She didn't love me but we were friends and I still miss her dearly. My life didn't get much better after that. I was eventually diagnosed with bipolar depression, anxiety, and PTSD. I did some terrible things in my life. I had some terrible things done to me. I came out as bi after bootcamp. I was raped two more times. I have grown to try and deal with it. Alot of people blame me identifying as lesbian now as it has or had something to do with me being raped or molested. I can honestly say that for as long as I can remember I've always loved women. I've always been attracted to women. I have acknowledged a man being handsome. I have consentually dated and slept with men. I just realized when I became older those moments were never for the right reasons. Everyone story is different. Your isn't going to be my story. You might hate everything that I've said. That's fine if you do. Your a human being. You matter.. Your ideas matter and I love you for your diversity! Love one another!!