#but like what can you even do.. most people can’t afford to eat ‘clean’

[angelnumber27]

In America one of the big problems is that everything is designed to keep us sick so that we have to continue spending outrageous amounts of money on healthcare. They should really just call it sick care.. they don’t want people to get better. This country is a business and money is the top priority always

[potionpeddlerpatchy]

word count: ~4.3K

paring: Kageyama x fReader

warning(s):  panty stealing, male masturbation, nonconsensual listening (he purposefully listens in on the Reader getting it on), peeping (a hint), and slight obsessive behaviour, Kageyama is a perv in this, so be warned.

authors note: well, much like the Bokuto fic, this has finally arrived; and has taken just as long to complete. After the success of the Perv!Bokuto fic, figured I would continue on and make a series out of it - with the next character (due to popular demand) being Kageyama. If you like it, and want more, please let me know (and who you wanna see next), otherwise please enjoy this fun little piece with our favourite tsundere volleyball player~ 🔮

Having a roommate was a sensible thing. 

It meant that bills and rent were split evenly, which in turn meant less stress on a young person’s life to make ends meet -  to not have to worry as much about having enough to eat or being able to buy the important things in life - and it meant shared resources, things like appliances, necessities, and cleaning supplies; which meant not having to worry if you’ll go without for long. And it especially made sense that an up-and-coming professional volleyball player would want a similar professional as a roommate.

At least, that was how Hinata Shoyo put it as he begged, nearly going to his knees, the taller raven-headed man, trying to convince his closest friend to get an apartment in the city with him.

And that was Hinata’s main point:, that he was a friend. One that Kageyama had known for years, which meant that not only were they in a similar boat together (having similar schedules, and professional careers), but Hinata was one of the few people Kageyama could stand being around for more than a few hours. 

“So come on please!?” Hinata cried out, clinging to the taller man’s shirt. “You won’t get a better deal, 'cause I know you can’t afford to live in the city yet! And do you really wanna chance moving in with a stranger that you can’t stand!? That might have disgusting habits?”

And well, that was what sold it for Kageyama.

Within a month he was packed and standing in the middle of an empty apartment, with an over-eager red-head as they took the lay of their land; it wasn’t a big place (a standard two-bedroom, one-bath) but there was room to breathe and get comfortable in. And, at the end of the day, if Kageyama had to be stuck living in a place like this and needed a roommate, Hinata was his first and only choice.

It didn’t take long for things to be unpacked and for the dust to settle; because really there was only so much furniture two early twenty-somethings had to their name, but the principal remained the same - that a routine was formed, and rather quickly, that fit Kageyama’s standards.

And really, how could it not? Kageyama would wake up, shower, eat breakfast, and be almost out the door by the time his roommate would finally wake up - meaning there would be no hindrance to the strict routine he wanted to keep and maintain further. And the same can be said whenever he finally got home, he was able to eat and get settled for the evening without too much fuss or interference; able to enjoy the living room, and the apartment as a whole, in peace and silence for a few hours. To allow him to recharge and be more prepared to deal with his more extroverted friend/roommate. 

That’s what the weekends were for anyway, to let loose and enjoy life; and that was where Hinata’s presence was appreciated the most - how he was always able to convince him to step out of his comfort zone and try new things. Though Kageyama would be reluctant, would complain and think of any excuse to not go somewhere, he was always thankful at the end of the day to have someone who cared enough about his social life to not let it crumble. Almost strangers during the week, but roommates and friends when the weekend arrived - it was an ideal situation.

And then you showed up.

Appeared within the apartment without warning; sitting on his couch, on your phone, when he woke up one morning, getting ready to start his day and routine of training and maintaining his schedule; you even had the audacity to tell him, with a sickly sweet and obnoxious smile, coffee was made and ready if he wanted any - as if caffeine was good for an athlete. He left without a word, just a mere roll of his eyes and an annoyed scoff before leaving for the day; coming home later in the evening to give Hinata a piece of his mind.

The redhead was apologetic, as always, doing his best to apologize for the lack of proper warning.  “Though, to be fair, she has been over before! You just were never around!” he tried to reason as if that made anything about the situation better. Hinata explained that he met you at a game; you were the one fan he remembered that night - cheering for him the loudest as they played another round-robin in their division - coming up to him afterward and offering him a celebratory drink; and hey, the man was only human.

One drink turned to two, then three, and soon, they spent the night chatting away; he even left with her phone number and the promise to see each other soon. After a few dates, Hinata proposed the idea of going steady, “‘cause seriously dude, she’s really an amazing girl! I couldn’t pass up this chance and let her go!” Things were going pretty well, and after hanging out the night prior you decided to spend the night, that was all.

And it all made sense, one way or another, as to why you were there that morning; you weren't just some stranger in his home - you were a guest, his roommate's girlfriend. Though Kageyama found it hard to believe that the ‘amazing girl’ Hinata kept gushing about, kept going on and on until Kageyam’s eye would twitch in annoyance, could possibly be you. 

Because you were a nuisance to his entire way of life. A constant hindrance and blockade in his way as he tried to go about his usual routine.

In the mornings, when he used to be the first and only one up, he would have the bathroom and kitchen to himself; to shower and eat in a timely fashion before heading out the door. Now, after you got comfortable staying the night, he would be lucky to make it to practice on time. You hogged the bathroom, your annoying humming as you brushed your teeth and did your hair took too long for Kageyama’s liking - forcing him to use the kitchen sink to get rid of his morning breath. And if you weren’t taking up the bathroom, you would be in the kitchen, monopolizing the space as you made breakfast; constantly getting in his way, dirtying as many of his dishes as you possibly could, and using up all his food that was in the fridge…; he can’t help but roll his eyes, a scowl on his face, whenever you try to offer the sad excuse of a breakfast you had just created to him - he was always too angry to say anything to you when you did, he would just simply put his coat on and leave.

And it wasn’t just the morning routine you would infiltrate and destroy;, oh no, you seemed to want to rip apart the entire routine - one that took him months to build and maintain. Now, when he would come home after a long day of training, of pushing his body to the utmost limit and wanting to do nothing more than relax in his living room (an area normally empty and silent most days of the week, to just breathe deeply and meditate for a few hours and recharge, was now ruined, as whenever he would walk through the door, there you were sitting on his couch, playing some obnoxious and loud game on your phone, and greeting him once again with that stupid giant smile on your face like you’re happy to see him. It made him stomp to his room annoyed and frustrated - always ensuring he slammed the door for you to hear.

At night it was the worst; normally he would go to sleep without issue - as he would go to bed early enough to miss Hinata’s loud nighttime routine - ensuring that he would get the 8-hours of rest he needed to ensure peak performance the next day. But now? With you staying the night? He doesn’t get nearly that many hours. He knows you do your best to muffle the sounds, to make it seem like nothing else is happening on the other side of the paper-thin wall then you and Hinata trying to get comfortable in bed, but it doesn’t work. Kageyama can hear everything; your moans, mewls, gasps, and sighs of pleasure, they all ring so loudly in his ears making it impossible for him to fall asleep - even after they go quiet, after you have been tuckered out and are fast asleep, they play on a loop in his mind.

He knows that neither of you are aware that he can hear you, that he inadvertently listens whenever you fuck, given the bright and cheery smile you both cast his way in the morning as if nothing has changed, as if he wasn’t in on your dirty little secrets.

But he knows, and it plagues him constantly.

Now whenever he finds you in the kitchen, either making coffee or breakfast that is far too much for one person, he cannot stand near you or look in the eyes whenever you offer him a mug or plate; cannot begrudgingly work alongside you as he tried to fix his bowl instant oats and honey; cannot just merely scoff and roll his eyes at you like he normally would - his biting responses now turned into quiet shakes of his head, his heart beating out of his chest as he tries not to stare at you; as he tries not to be entranced by your plush thighs that were barely caged within the smallest shorts he had ever seen; how they would ride up and hide nothing, giving him plenty of fuel for his imagination.

Whenever he sees you on the couch when he gets home, all sprawled out playing on your phone, he doesn’t stomp off to his room and slam the door like he normally would after finding out you ruined his plans; instead, he’s almost stunned in the doorway as you greet him; having the unusual giant impact of making his cock twitch in his pants, made worse when he realizes you're wearing his old high school's jersey. Merely greeting you with a slight raise of his hand before scurrying off as quietly as possible to deal with the newfound tent problem in his sweats.

And at night, he can’t help himself from pressing his ear to the wall; shirt tucked between his teeth to keep his whimpers and moans down as he stroked his heavy, leaking cock to the sounds of your high-pitched moans; closing his eyes and picturing what position you must be in, how pretty you would look with your mouth stuffed with his length, and how thankful you would be with your pussy leaking his cum. The guilt and shame that washes over him once he cums into his hand is almost devastating, but he cannot help but think it’s worth it whenever he wipes himself clean.

~

You, on the other hand, were clearly blissfully unaware of the situation that had been slowly unfolding over the past few weeks; sweetly ignorant of the secrets your boyfriend’s roommate had been hiding. For all you know, the man who seemed to hate the very earth you walked on - the man who could barely tolerate your existence or be in the same room as you - was slowly starting to warm up to you, becoming somewhat tolerable to be around.

You were ecstatic, happy to know that your relationship with Hinata would no longer jeopardize his friendship with one of his closest friends and overjoyed that the possibility of forcing Hinata to choose a side would not have to befall him. And Hinata? He was just happy to see his two favorite people slowly starting to get along, especially as it meant more opportunities to invite you over.

You liked Kageyama, in the simplest of terms. He seemed to be a decent guy, even if he was high-strung, but you knew it was due to his passion for being the best he can be - and how could fault him for that? 

Besides, you liked his company. He was quiet and more relaxed than Hinata was, which at times was a little more welcomed after a long day of work, or when you first got up and haven't had a cup of coffee yet. And he was polite–sweet even, surprisingly so. It always caught you off guard; Whether that be telling you he bought the kind of yogurt you liked or allowing you to watch something on the TV, even though he was clearly just trying to enjoy the living room in peace, Kageyama's niceness always caught you off-guard.

You were grateful for the change in dynamic, even if it did seem out of the blue; it was a welcomed happenstance, one you weren’t going to jinx or question too much. For you were happy to continue on without the answers, happy to continue to be with Hinata and the perks that came with it, happy to finally feel comfortable in his apartment - to live in the shared space without being seen as a burden.

You finally felt comfortable, and really, what was better than that?

~

Well, you were too comfortable.

Kageyama knew it to be fact, though Hinata would disagree.

He was grateful you finally felt comfortable in his home. Kageyama wishes you didn't. Because when a person is comfortable, the little, embarrassing habits that they try to hide slowly start to show. For some, like Hinata, it’s having conversations with himself - sometimes loud, sometimes quiet - as well as leaving half-eaten food in the most random of places because he got distracted and forgot them. Kageyama can even admit that he oftentimes forgets food in the microwave, or leaves his shoes in entranceways, inadvertently causing people to trip on them. All things normal, and natural, once comfortable in a space. 

Kageyama wishes yours were little things like that. Talking with your mouth full, or singing loudly in the shower, or leaving wrappers all over the place; anything that could put you in a normal, negative, light (would be better than your bad habits). 

But no. Your bad habit was leaving, your panties where just anyone could find them. And he can tell, neither you or Hinata are aware of it.

Kageyama didn’t notice at first, why would he? Why would he care about your clothes, not like he had any use for your dirty laundry? When he finally did, it was an accident. He entered the bathroom after you had taken a shower, and as he placed the bathmat down on the floor he saw them; a navy pair of lace panties just sitting there, right by the tub. The shower he took afterward was long and very cold.

After that incident, he found them more and more; much like noticing red cars only after you start thinking about them. He would notice that you often forget about your panties when you leave the next morning after spending the night; whether in the bathroom crumpled in the corner nearest the tub, or scattered in some hap-haphazard form near Hinata’s doorway.

At first, he tried to ignore them, leaving them there and pretending they didn’t exist. It did help you were usually close by, your “would you like some coffee, Tobio-san?” or “your breakfast looks ready, don’t forget it this time~” often effectively stealing his attention and thus having him suppress his thoughts to speak with you about the little things you leave behind.

Then it turned into something he couldn’t ignore. Llater as he stared at them a moment or two too long before walking away from them; burning into his memory the colour, shape, and fabric type as he uses the image of you wearing them whenever he wakes from a naughty dream, or needed to cool off in the shower after a stressful day, or whenever he couldn’t sleep because his cock ached for you.

But it didn’t take long before an embarrassing habit of yours turned into a disgusting habit of his. His cheeks would burn red as shame would fill his being, knowing he was the very roommate that Hinata had threatened about when convincing him to move in together, but he couldn’t help it; you unlocked something depraved in him and he was just trying to keep it at bay.

He knows you don’t mean to leave them, or at least not in plain view, but after a while he couldn’t help but have that perverted voice in his head tell him that you were purposefully leaving them for him to find; that they were for him, so why not take a pair? What was the harm in doing that?

And try as he might, that perverted voice broke him down - he was only a man after all. A sinful, disgusting man, who was utterly, hopelessly, and inappropriately attracted to his best friend’s girl.  

Kageyama didn’t steal every pair, he had to be applauded for that. Not because he had self-control, but rather out of self-preservation to not be caught or confronted by you or Hinata. If he stole every pair then you would start to get suspicious, and that could lead to you asking him the dreaded question of ‘have you seen my underwear Tobio? Maybe it got mixed in with your clothes’ and he knew if you did, his flustered face and voice would give it all away. Or worse, that you would take matters into your own hands and start snooping around his room. He could already feel his stomach drop at the thought of your pretty eyes widening in horror once you found his little stash.

No, he couldn’t have it. So, despite all the voices in his head telling him otherwise,  he had to have some self-control; even if it was killing him slowly. 

He wanted to take your prettiest pairs, the ones with lace and silk, but he worried you would notice that for sure, for panties like that are always remembered, so instead he took some of your more plain ones - ones he was sure you wouldn’t notice they were gone as you had plenty of them to spare.

And how useful they proved to be late at night, when he could hear your pretty mewls get higher and higher as you tried to stifle them; not that it would do much, not with how he moved his bed so his head was next to the shared wall, thus gaining a perfect (and comfortable) spot to hear all your pretty sounds. He would wrap your panties around his aching, heavy cock as he used them to help get him off to you; the soft material providing just the perfect amount of friction, different from his fist, to further make believe he was the one ravaging you.

Arm over his face, shielding his eyes from what he was doing and trying to cool his flushed face as his teeth would bite down harshly to his bottom lip,trying to keep his whimpers quiet as he vigorously pumped his twitching cock to you, angry and red in overstimulation. He tried his best to feel satisfied; to reach that high that would finally allow him to sleep…but always ended the same: him bringing a hand up to stifle a wail as he painted those cotton panties of yours with his cum - wishing it was your pussy instead. Shame washed over his being as he kept his eyes shielded from the world. Now that he's gotten away with it, it's only going to get worse from here..

And it did.

Kageyama didn’t want it to, but he fed the beast and now it was clawing at him for more.

And more meant beig risky, much to his dismay. If he could, he'd keep this part of himself hidden deep; but this part could never be sated, not unless he could finally have you. And since he able to fuck you, he had to get as close as he could.

Close meant dangerous. Close meant palming himself through his shorts as he stood behind you while you bent over to grab something out of the oven–trying to distance himself enough so you couldn’t feel him, fighting the urge to pull you by your hips to be flush with his own. Close meant pulling his leaking cock out of his sweats in the morning as he tries to get off as quickly as he can while he peeps through the keyhole of the bathroom door, trying to get a glimpse of your wet naked form through the shower curtain.

Soon, even all that wasn’t enough. Soon, just hoarding your panties wasn’t enough, he had to carry a pair in his pocket - even to practice, despite how easily the flimsy fabric would fall out of gym shorts Soon, just smelling your shampoo as you walked by didn’t leave the lasting impression it once did, now he was reduced to smelling your lavender lotion  you kept in the bathroom as he tried to imagine your soft skin in his hold. And soon, after a long day of training= he would find he was too pent up and tired to even make it to his room. Simply spreading him out on the living room couch and slowly slide your panties up and down his shaft; pretending it's your pretty lips wrapped around his sensitive tip; enjoying the thrill, the shivers of pleasure, in the thought of knowing that you could come home at any moment and catch him in the act.

It was bad, and he knew it, but he still couldn’t stop himself from doing it; from spreading his legs wide on the plush cushions and taking hold of his cock with a delighted sigh; for really, it was the only time he could be vocal and let out his frustrations that he was currently faced with - and the possibility that you might find him was more than worth it for it either meant you would finally confront him and snap him out of his lust-filled craze, or you would join him; either way, it was a victory for the man.

And this habit, this vile and disgusting habit, had now grown into his routine. Instead of coming home, kicking his shoes off, and meditating his stress away he now found peace by coming undone by the thought of you as he did his best not to make a mess of the shared couch.

That was where he found himself now, panting as he pulled his athletic shorts down and freeing his rock-hard cock from where it was uncomfortably caged; wrapping his hand around it with a strangled moan, he began to squeeze the tip; normally he would have a layer of cotton to help soothe his angry erection and provide it that sinfully sweet friction it craved, but you hadn’t visited in over a week - away with Hinata for an away game - and thus he didn’t have any new pairs to use as the others were hidden away, awaiting being washed and returned to you so you could dirty them again.

His hand just had to do as he slowly dragged it up and down, the longwinded whimper clear he needed some relief as his precum slowly lubricated his length, providing less resistance and allowing him to go faster and faster. Before long the only sound that could be heard in the empty apartment were the wet sounds of his hips thrusting up into his fist and the occasional whine that would escape his throat as he tried desperately to finish; all the while his eyes remained closed as he visualized about how pretty you could look bouncing up and down on his cock, how blissfully you would look with your head thrown back as you moaned over how good he made you feel.

“That feels good, doesn’t it baby?” He babbled out, pretending he was teasing you as his hips purposefully thrust up into his tight fist. “Like the feeling of my cock stretching out that pretty pussy don’t you? Nngh! Feels… fuck,,, feels better than Hinata’s doesn’t it?”

His voice was getting higher the closer he got to cumming, feeling his lower stomach twist in knots as he tried to hold back just a little bit longer, wanting to remain in the fantasy he created.

“Just want me to fill you up, don’t you? Make a mess of you for him to find, yeah? Want to show him how to really make you feel good, naughty, dirty, fucking girl. Yeah, just like that, keep doing it just like that, keep squeezing me! I’m! I’m gonna, fuck, gonna cum!”

He cried out, your name leaving his mouth in a broken wail. His body tensed harshly as he threw his head back violently into the pillows and came all over his fist and stomach, body twitching and jumping as he slowly pumped his angry, red cock. He tries coming down from his high slowly; regaining his breath and coming back to reality while still savoring that euphoria.

But his reality came crashing down when he heard your startled and shocked gasp, piecing his ears so sharply that it felt like ice water had been poured over his head,.He whipped his head to face you, entire being filled with fright as gazed at you. Watching as you stood there with the most horrified look on your pretty face, making it clear to him that you had heard everything he said as he feels his whole body heat up in shame and embarrassment; unable to even squeak out a word of explanation or apology.

And yet, a moment passed, and then another, and you still stood there looking at him with the same stunned expression; shoulders still by your ears and body still frozen in shock as your eyes never left his cock - still oozing with sticky cum.

You didn’t run away…. He thought to himself as he heard you gulp down a breath as he stood up. So maybe…. maybe you wouldn’t mind helping him out?

[pochipop]

＃BLACK CLOVER !! ♡ — NOZEL ALPHABET HEADCANONS.

#. synopsis! — a nozel headcanon for every letter of the alphabet .

#. characters! — nozel .

#. warnings! — none .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

A: affection. | are they affectionate? how do they show affection?

Nozel can be surprisingly affectionate in spite of his cold exterior. When it comes to his lover, he tends to let his guard down after a while, and in doing so, he affords you the right to see the softer, sweeter sides of him when it’s just the two of you. Nozel tends to show his love physically, —he’s not great with words and fears he might say the wrong thing or come off the wrong way, so he settles for letting his hands roam the plane of your shoulders and letting his lips capture yours as your back is pressed against his bedroom wall. He might not say “I love you” as often as he should, but he hopes his actions are enough to get the point across.

B: bizarre. | something strange they do or a weird quirk they have with or without their partner?

Nozel eats everything with silverware, even when it would be worlds easier to do it with his hands. You tend to think it’s just a silly quirk he’s developed since childhood, growing up royal and all, but you still can’t help but smile when you see him do it. It’s genuinely really cute!

C: comfort. | are they good at comforting their partner? how do they do it?

Nozel isn’t great at offering comfort to people. He’s not even good at comforting himself. Even so, he tries his best when it comes to you, even if it’s not always very effective. It’s hard to stay miserable when he makes the effort, pushing himself out of his comfort zone to pat your back and tell you everything will be okay, even when the future seems uncertain or bleak. The fact that he tries means the world to you.

D: domestic. | how do they feel about settling down? do they cook/clean?

Nozel, coming from a royal bloodline, tends to value more traditional unions. Marriage is something he holds in high regard, and he’s of the belief that when you promise your love to someone forever, you should do your best to uphold that promise, day in and day out. As for cooking or cleaning, Nozel doesn’t tend to do either (and never really learned how.) His family was very well-off, so others cooked his meals and cleaned up his messes. Still, he wouldn’t mind learning the basics or helping you around the house, although his busy schedule as a Captain may well get in the way more often than not.

E: ending. | if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

Nozel would do it in person and would probably be a little cold in his delivery. When he’s faced with feelings he doensn’t want to delve into, he tends to stuff them down in hopes of numbing them out. All the sadness and guilt would likely manifest as indifference, but deep down, he’d mourn for months to come and have a very difficult time moving on.

F: future. | do they think about the future? how does it look?

Nozel is always thinking about the future, whether professionally or personally, and he really hopes you’ll be in it. He likes the idea of having someone to come home to, having someone to rely on, having someone to share his most intimate moments with. For all his independence, he enjoys thinking about sharing meals with you after long days and retreating to bed after harsh times, wrapping you up in his strong arms, holding you close. Moreover, he likes to think you’re hoping for the same, even if only every now and again.

G: gifts. | how often do they give their partner gifts? what kind of gifts are they?

Nozel is nothing short of wealthy, and what he has, his partner will have in turn. Gift giving is probably his main love language since it’s a bit hands off and he can put a lot of time and thought into it on his own time. Jewelry is a staple of his gifts, —shimmering crystals dangling from the lobes of your ears or hanging around your neck, shining stones on your fingers (that many people often mistake for engagement rings), and finely crafted beads hooked around your wrists that he agonized over choosing for you. He certainly isn’t above coming home with flowers, newly crafted weaponry or armour, and any other array of trinkets or indulgences for you and your hobbies.

H: honesty. | are they honest with their partner? do they keep secrets?

Nozel is both brutally honest and painfully secretive, which is a strange mixture, but one he learns to temper over time for your sake. It might take a while, but eventually, he finds a nice middleground where he can express things to you while also protecting your feelings, as well as be honest about things without causing you too much worry or concern. Just as well, he does eventually figure out how to let himself be vulnerable, and while he may still keep things to himself every now and again (if for nothing more than to save some face), he does his best to be as open as he can.

I: i love you. | how fast do they say the L word? who says it first?

Nozel probably won’t say it first, but he would definitely say it back, and probably with reckless abandon. As soon as you work up the courage to confess the true extent of your feelings for him, he’d be quick to return the favor, and the relief of you feeling the same would be palpable. It wouldn’t be quick or easy for either of you, honestly, but the time and effort would be well worth it.

J: jealousy. | do they get jealous? does it show?

Nozel can be a bit of a jealous person, —not because he doesn’t trust you, but just because he’s kind of insecure about relationships in general. This gets better over time, and he doesn’t tend to act on it, but it’s a familiar sting that he knows a little bit too well. He likes to think he hides it well, but you always notice, even if you don’t say anything about it. Instead, you just give him a little bit more affection to offer some reassurance, and that tends to work like a charm.

K: kisses. | what kind of kisses do they like to give/receive?

Nozel is a lips man through and through. If he’s kissing you, nine times out of ten, he’s pressing his lips to yours and is hoping you don’t mind the way he holds it for a while too long. He’s definitely not above giving some forehead kisses though. Strangely enough though, his favorite place to be kissed is his shoulder. It feels warm and intimate, and he really relishes in that.

L: likes and dislikes. | favorite and least favorite things about being in the relationship?

Nozel’s favorite thing about being in a relationship is having someone to confide in. Having gone so long keeping up a certain image and never letting the mask slip, it feels way too good to be able to be his true self behind closed doors with you and not worry that any shred of weakness might push you away. Still, Nozel is and always has been an introverted person, and he doesn’t like feeling guilty when he doesn’t share something with you immediately because he needs time to think it over. It’s not even that you make him feel that way, —it’s largely something he does to himself, and he wishes that weren’t the case.

M: mornings. | how do they spend mornings with their partner?

Nozel is pretty indifferent to mornings. Waking up kind of just is what it is within itself. Even so, he’s a tad more affectionate when the two of you are in bed together, and he much prefers to take “five more minutes” when he can, even if all that entails is faking sleep to count the beats of your heart.

N: nicknames. | what do they call their partner?

Nozel likes to call you “my angel” or “my love” more often than not, but he’s also impartial to “darling.”

O: out of character. | what is something people would be hard pressed to believe they do/enjoy in a relationship?

Nozel loves to be fawned over. It even takes you a while to figure that out, because he’s definitely not the type to just outright ask for attention, but there are definitely times where he wants nothing more than to have you all over him, being the clingiest person imaginable.

P: pda. | do they like public displays of affection? if so, what types?

Nozel’s not a fan of PDA. He’s not embarrassed to be in love, but he does have an image to keep up, and he prefers to be affectionate behind closed doors.

Q: quirk. | what is something they do that their partner finds cute or endearing?

Nozel’s very strict and serious persona that he always upholds in front of his squad has become something of a novelty to you after having gotten to know him so well. It’s a very different side of him to the fairly sweet, somewhat tempered man you share your most tempered moments with.

R: rough times. | arguments? how often and in what manner?

Nozel tends to get frustrated more than genuinely angry. He might raise his voice from time to time, but all his time as a leader has given him some pretty solid reasoning and problem-solving skills, all of which he utilizes in his personal affairs. As long as there’s no egging him on purposefully, he can usually see through the initial upset and deal with whatever has gone wrong after he takes a bit to think and work things over by himself.

S: sensitive. | what’s a sore spot for them that their partner should steer clear of?

Nozel doesn’t like to be pressed about his family dynamics. He’ll open up about them in time, but only when he’s ready, and he’d much rather do so when he truly feels comfortable.

T: thrill. | do they need surprises in a relationship, or do they prefer a routine?

Nozel prefers routine and stability. His schedule can often be overwhelming, and as a Captain for a Magic Knight Squad, he gets his fair share of thrill and surprise while on the job. Really, the last thing he wants is to come home and not know what to expect there. Within reason, he doens’t mind surprise dates or something of the like, but he would definitely rather be in the know and have a solid idea of what’s going on.

U: unacceptable. | what is something they cannot tolerate in a relationship? what is something they would never do?

Nozel couldn’t tolerate someone being overly critical of him in a relationship. He’s hard enough on himself in just about every aspect of his life, so to hear his insecurities constantly echoed back at him would be way too much to shoulder. Nozel would also never project that outwardly and is surprisingly careful not to be nitpicky of his lover. He knows what it’s like to feel like all eyes are always on you, waiting for you to make a mistake, and the last thing he’d want for someone he loves so intimately is to cause any low feelings about the place held in their relationship.

V: vanity. | how concerned are they about their looks? are they insecure about them?

Nozel can be a bit vain, but it might come as a surprise at first that most of his external arrogance is more of an act than anything else. He sees himself as very attractive, and he puts both time and effort into keeping his appearances up, —but in his personal life, he tends to be a lot more tame about stroking his own ego. He also isn’t one for insecurity as it pertains to his looks, but it never hurts to throw him some bones and tell him he looks handsome every now and again.

W: wild card. | random headcanon?

Nozel really likes to style his partner’s hair, especially in braids. He’d take all the necessary time to understand the needs and texture of your hair, and would work with that accordingly.

X: xoxo. | how often do they hug/kiss their significant other?

Nozel isn’t anywhere near as stingy with affection as most people would assume of him. At the very least, he’s kissing you good morning and goodnight, but he tends to throw in a lot of back hugs and he adores the way you slip into his arms when he gets back from a mission.

Y: yearning. | how do they feel when their partner is away?

Nozel prefers it when you’re next to him, but that’s not always viable. When the two of you are apart, he thinks of you often and likes to remind himself of the warmth of your skin against his and the sweetness of your lips on his mouth. He’s a little too sentimental about it for his own good from time to time, but hey, what’s a lovesick fool to do?

Z: zzz. | how do they sleep with their partner? how do they sleep alone?

Nozel has long been a restless sleeper, but that simmers down quite a lot after getting used to having you in his bed. When he’s alone, it tends to be shallower, but it’s nothing that would stop him from doing his job. He moves around more and tends to stir awake a few times throughout the night. With you, however, his rest is usually more fulfilling, and his favorite position is him resting on his back with your head on his chest.

[medusapelagia]

10 - The Tower of Terror

written for @steddieangstyaugust (prompt: "Where were you?”) and @augustwritingchallenge (Prompt: enemies to allies) and @aug-kissed (prompt: Blow a Kiss) Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: Witcher AU, violence, blood, injuries Words: 1626

(An AU inside an AU?!?! Yes 😂)

When Steve’s mom dragged him to Kaer Morhen as a kid, Steve didn’t know that she was selling him to the mages to make a witcher out of him. He just thought it was a funny adventure. They rode in a little carriage together with some cabbages, and then they crossed the woods and started the same long path that now Steve is walking down, holding Roach's bridle with one hand, guiding the stubborn girl down the steep slope.

Steve never knew how much the mages gave his mom. He hopes they gave her a lot, she still had other five kids at home and he was just another mouth to feed: too young and weak to be really helpful working at the farm.

Now his mom and his brothers are long gone, but Steve is still there, doing what he was raised to do: killing monsters.

At the end of the winter, he says his brothers and their father goodbye, and gets back on the path, ready to kill monsters and humans alike. Because sometimes, the worst monsters have human skin.

On his back are his two faithful swords, silver and iron, that he keeps in tiptop shape, cleaning and sharpening them every night before resting.

He doesn’t stop at the first few villages, he wants to leave them to his brothers, but he keeps walking toward the farthest towns, looking for little villages that definitely need a witcher, even if most of them can’t really afford him. But Steve was never too high-maintenance: if the people are nice to him and they really need help, he will help them, in exchange for some food and a comfortable place to sleep. 

He would probably help them for free as well, but even witchers need to eat and sleep.

That’s how he finds out about the Tower of Terror. An old tower that’s all that remained of a big castle up the hills and that was destroyed during a strong earthquake.

He’s eating some bland soup, the only thing he can afford at the beginning of the hunting season, when a man, wearing fancy clothes, sits next to him.

“You’re a witcher, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away? The white hair or the yellow eyes? Maybe the two swords on my back?” Steve asks sarcastically, he doesn’t want to have anything to do with rich men, they are the ones that always try to fuck him up and pay him less than the agreed amount.

“Snarky, aren’t you? I thought all of you were grumpy and scary men.” 

“Met many witchers?” Steve asks without even turning.

“A couple. When I was a kid. Anyway, I have a job for you. I want you to go to the Tower of Terror and free the place from all the monsters that inhabit that place.”

Steve lifts an eyebrow, “Did they attack the village?”

“Not yet. But they are monsters! We can’t live under the threat of those monsters coming for us if we want to become a bigger village. You see? At the moment all we have are just a few houses, but the road that leads to us is the quickest route to get to Hawkins. If we manage to kill every monster in the Tower of Terror, we will be finally able to attract more travelers and become a bigger city.”

“And make more money.”

“And make more money.” The man agrees, “The tower is full of gold and jewels, you could take anything you want once you clean it from the monsters. So what do you say? It’s a pretty big deal.”

“What kind of monsters haunt the tower?” Steve asks, squinting his eyes, pensive.

“How the fuck would I know! I never got there.”

“I don’t take jobs if I don’t know what I’m facing.”

“Oh. Too bad. Well, I guess I’ll ask the other witcher.”

That catches Steve's attention. What other witcher? He concentrates, trying to find a slow heartbeat like his but finds none.

“Oh, he’s not here yet, but we sent a messenger a few weeks ago and he promised to come soon. In the beginning, I thought it was you, but the messenger told me about dark pitch-black hair, so…”

There’s one witcher crazy enough to accept a job without knowing what the fuck he’s going to face. A witcher on his back has two swords and a lute. A witcher that’s crazy like all the witchers from the Cat School. 

Eddie.

Steve takes his bowl of soups and gulps it down in one go, slamming it on the table, “Good for you.” he says, leaving the tavern.

He’s not even halfway through the village when he hears a familiar voice singing a stupid song, he turns in time to see Eddie get off his dark horse and put away his lute.

“When the tavern owner told me a grumpy witcher with white hair came to the rescue I couldn’t believe my luck.” He grins, getting closer to Steve who is still riding Roach.

“Not here to help you. Just looking for a job.”

“Are you saying to me you’re allergic to money? Because, my dear Steve, that castle is full of gold and jewels. So full that you won’t have to hunt for at least ten years.”

“And became old and fat in the meantime? No thanks.”

“Come on! It will be fun! You and me against the world!”

“There’s no you and me. There’s you. And there’s me. And our paths won’t cross again.”

“Oh, you weren’t so adamant when I was fucking you against the tree in the middle of the woods a few summers ago.”

“That was a one-time thing. And we were drunk.”

“Were we, Stevie?” Eddie asks, licking his lips and showing the little cat fangs.

“We come from different schools.”

“Doesn’t mean we are enemies. I'm pretty fond of you, actually.” Eddie says, blowing him a kiss and then winking at him.

“It does,” Steve replies, deadpan, before hitting Roach in the stomach and pushing her to gallop away.

“Tomorrow, at first lights! I’ll be there, waiting for you!” Eddie yells, but Steve doesn’t even turn.

***

Steve doesn’t sleep. He doesn’t even meditate. He just tosses and turns, thinking about that only night he shared with Eddie years before. How good it felt to be adored and loved even if it wasn’t real.

Finally understanding he won’t get any more sleep he sits near the ember of his fire, trying to remember everything he knows about the Tower of Terror. He has definitely read something about it but now all he can think about are pale hands wrapping his sex while a horny voice whispers dirty things in his ear.

If Eddie is really going to get into the Tower alone he will die, and those hands will never touch Steve again with reverence and desire.

It’s not Steve’s problem. If Eddie wants to die he’s free to do as he wishes.

Roach turns her head, glaring at him from the tree she’s tied to.

“Ok, I get it. I get it.” Steve sighs, dismounting the camp and preparing himself to fight.

***

It’s the smell of blood to guides him through the stupid tower, not the greedy, as Eddie insists when they meet in a maze of corridors.

The dark-haired witcher is holding his side, a deep wound gushing blood through his fingers, but Steve doesn’t have the time to take care of his injuries, because the monsters with no eyes are attacking them again, their shriek so loud on Steve’s sensitive ears that he has to fight with himself not to drop his sword and protect his ears with his hands.

With a slash, he cuts the arm that’s reaching out toward his head and when the creature loses its balance, Steve’s sword pierces him from side to side. He doesn’t even have the time to retrieve the blade, when another creature, smaller than the first, attacks him, making him fall on his back while he tries to keep the monster’s mouth away from his face. Steve kicks it in the stomach and the creature yelps, recoiling just enough to give Steve the time to grab the dagger from his belt and cut its throat.

The dark and warm blood falls on his clothes and his face, and Steve curses, kicking the dead beast.

“You should think about dyeing your hair.” Eddie chuckles, spitting some blood, “Black maybe it’s a little too dark fir your skin complexion, but I think chestnut would be perfect for you.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Steve replies, trying to determine how bad the injury is.

“Where were you? I thought we agreed to be here at dawn.”

“I didn’t agree.”

“I heard you growl, distinctly. That’s not how your school expresses agreement?”

“Fuck you.” Steve says, fishing some vials for his bag, “Take this.”

“Swallow? How magnanimous of you.” 

“Just drink it and let’s get out of here.”

“Can’t.”

“Come on Eddie. Not even a cat can be so stupid to risk his life for some jewels that were probably stolen ages ago.”

“Have you ever seen monsters like these?” Eddie asks, pointing to the two dead creatures.

Steve squints at the monsters without eyes. He doesn’t remember having read anything about them in the book he studied, and he definitely hadn’t met such creatures before.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that if you come with me we could find something more than gold and jewels.” Eddie drinks the potion in one go and gives the vial back to Steve, “Can we be allies, for once?”

Steve stares at the other witcher who slowly gets up, one hand still protectively in front of his wounded side.

Allies.

Just for this time.

They shake hands, and then their medallions start to shake like crazy.

(Should I start working on a Part 2???)

[hotluncheddie]

New anon here... I've been thinking about the government shoving Eddie into witness protection without letting him say goodbye to the rest of the group, which is a real bummer Steddie-wise because they were definitely headed towards something. So Eddie is like, in the suburbs of Chicago or somewhere under the new name Nathan Edwards or something, gets a slave wage job at a Scoops Ahoy, and proceeds to eat his feelings.

A couple years later, Steve is passing through the area, sees the Scoops, and thinks what the hell, he's doing pretty well for himself these days at whatever "fuck you dad I can make it on my own" career he ended up choosing, he can go in and tip some fresh outta high school kid the way he'd always appreciated back in his Starcourt days. And wow, the guy behind the counter definitely isn't a teenager, but he does look familiar...

:0 anon!!!!!

i’m hoping by saying he eats his feeling in the ice cream shop that we’re on the same page here… (bc oof 🥴👹)

but ugh witness protection is so sad omg but big hurt/comfort possibilities maybe i think i think

they make them leave straight out of the hospital, him and wayne and one box of stuff each. they give them new names, a new place, set wayne up with a new job. but it’s not the same, nothing is, never will be. eddie has to cut his hair, thankfully not a buzz cut but he hasn’t had his curls sit above his ears in years. it’s the thing that makes his feel most strange, he thinks - not recognising himself in the mirror.

recovering physically took a long time, mentally, just as long. but eventually he needs to be around people again, needs money, a routine. the scoops job started as kind of a joke and then he realised it was the place he applied with the easiest commute and the owner was a really chill dude at the interview and then it really wasn’t a joke anymore. eddie worked a scoops ahoy. the pay is whatever but the work is fine and with wayne’s wage they more than get by and while it’s boring, it also kind of feels like breathing room, time to slow down and learn about himself again, after everything.

after a while eddie is actually kind of digging the sailor outfit, gives him an excuse to be kind of silly and get away with way more with customers that he should. like you can’t really get mad at him, not dressed like that, not when he still gets the orders right. it feels like a character, he’s the bard, the jester, and one day he’ll break free but for now - he enjoys the free icecream.

it started small, employees are allowed one item in break and he usually went for a soda, then that changed to a milkshake or a cone. and then one night he was closing and it was right by wayne’s birthday and there was a quarter of a tub set to be thrown out. and, well, eddie thought, why not take it home?

then the new monthly schedule comes out and since most of the part timers are younger and he has his (new) van it’s got him set to closing alone most shifts. fine by him, one hour of pay where he can blast his walkman while he cleans, best case scenario even.

he was also in charge of making sure the tubs were correctly filled ready for the openers and that meant throwing out the near empty ones. so near empty that that kid in eddie seems to rear up and remind him of all those times they couldn’t afford icecream, why let it go to waste? he always did have a sweet tooth.

so most nights his routine after work is to get home, have dinner with wayne, get high, watch some tv or read or listen to music and most notably polish off whatever ice cream and ‘only just out of date so still definitely good’ toppings he’s managed to squirrel home.

that last bit is notable because it’s been a year of working there, just under a year of this new routine, and eddie’s had to size up his once baggy uniform.

he’s kept definition in his legs and arms since his job is running around and scooping frozen shit. but now he’s padded with a layer of chub and his stomach is padded with a lot more than that, having bared the brunt. his cheeks have also rounded and his thighs and ass are honestly looking better than ever.

and with everything so new that’s been forced on him, this new at least feels like his. he knows how it happened, he’s not dumb, and yeah sometimes he ate just to wallow but he enjoyed every fucking bite of that ice-cream. and yeah he knows the red stripes that streak up his sides and push agains the waistband of his shorts aren’t everyone’s idea of desirable but, this is him now. everything else in his life is new, may as well have a new body to go with it. and to be honest he finally feels like he’s recognising himself in the mirror now. this new guy he’s had to become, there are ways that it’s still his.

but god does he miss everyone. not a day goes by he doesn’t think of home, his friends, his life, the people he almost died with. steve. so every night he gets high and eats ice cream and feels his belly swell that little bit more. sometimes he cries, sometimes he laughs but he’s alive and he has wayne and they’re safe. so every night he eats icecream.

-

steve moves to chicago with robin. he’s in school to be a physical therapist, robin studying italian. they moved just outside the city because it’s cheaper, a nice little neighbourhood. hes getting by, he works at a gym and helps with some of the classes, it’s decent pay and fun and he’s getting more and more days where that darkness feels far away, his rain cloud isn’t so thick. he’s doing it, surviving. living, even.

but, every day he misses eddie munson.

he’s out jogging when he spots it, taken a new route and made it to a strip of stores he didn’t know were there. with a scoops ahoy. just like summer of ‘83.

he laughs.

for old times sake and knowing robin will get a kick out of it he head in inside. thinks the 20 in his sock is more than enough to have spare for a tip that should brighten whatever kid is working the counter. surely they don’t still have the same unifo- nope, they do, and the guy at the counter looks much closer to steve’s age than the high schooler he expected. he’s cute. big eyes, nice hands.

-

eddie’s frozen. there’s a spectre in his store. steve’s staring at him. eddie’s stares at steve. eddie’s suddenly filled with anxious energy, unsure how to process what’s in front of him. tugs at his shirt out of habit, smooths the fabric down over the plush of his stomach, readjusts his hat that doesn’t need readjusting, bounces on his toes. what the fuck.

and eddie sees that steve doesn’t quite recognise him with his rounder features and shorter hair. he can’t wear his rings to work (they’re different, gold but still chunky) and, obviously steve’s never seen him dressed like this, also probably never imagined eddie would have a belly like that.

the second thing that registers in eddie, after the initial shock, is feeling his stomach drop out in fear. for wayne. for their place. for his job… for steve.

he doesn’t remember what the rules were about contact with his past. but he’s pretty sure there were rules on it.

but then something flickers across steve’s face, a flash of lightning, and he’s moving, leaning across the counter and enveloping eddie in a hug. ‘oh thank god.’ eddie hears steve breathe, strained and relieved and so full of emotion eddie feels his throat close and his eyes burn. steve’s here. eddie squeezes back and breaths deep, he smells like sweat and hairspray and home.

his steve is here.

and all eddie can do is cling back.

they’ll have to figure something out. he can’t let go of this again.

[foggyfanfic]

Fixations

Summary: Bruno has always been fascinated by superstitions. (I wasn't going to write a fic about neurodivergency on the Encanto universe and not include Bruno).

3. Bruno

When his teacher told him knocking on wood for luck was ridiculous, Bruno told her that her great aunt was going to have an allergic reaction to the wedding cake at his teacher’s wedding. His teacher had rolled her eyes (he would later find out she was rolling her eyes because the mere mention of her great aunt annoyed her) and told him that his great aunt wasn’t even going to eat the wedding cake at her wedding because they were going through the trouble of making her her own, coconut free, cake.

Three weeks later, when his teacher’s great aunt was puffed up like a very fancy balloon, a plate of coconut cake in her hand, she excused her actions by saying, “But I love coconut!”

“Then why even make us get you your own cake?!” His teacher had looked far more frustrated with her great aunt than she ever had with any student, even him. Someday, helping Félix to wrangle his great grandmother at his and Pepa’s wedding to make up for his “looks like rain” comment, Bruno would understand.

On that day, Bruno muttered, “Should have knocked on wood.”

His teacher barely gave him a glance, but his mother pulled him aside and gave him yet another lecture on manners and what she called “time and place”.

At his mother’s insistence he had written his teacher an apology note, but she hadn’t even read it, instead she just told him, “I don’t actually mind the knocking, but it does disturb the other children when they’re trying to focus. Does it really help you do your work?”

“Sí,” Bruno had nodded his head so eagerly it made his curls bounce around his face, “I-I get nervous when I don’t do it a-and can’t do anything.”

“Alright, well, I have something for you,” the teacher opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a slim book, “this is a book about superstitions around the world. How about you pick a silent one that you can do in class when you’re having trouble focusing?”

Bruno had accepted the book, mouth gaped open because it was one of the kindest gifts he’d ever received in all of his eleven and a half years. He tried stuttering out a thank you, but it kept shaking and falling flat. Eventually he just hugged his teacher. She made a surprised sound, then hugged him back.

(Roughly 39 years later this very same teacher would help him to start scheduling his weekly story times, when he was trying to re-integrate himself into society.)

Bruno had poured over the book front to back and back to front. By the end of the week he had the whole thing memorized down to the errant comma on page 21 that should have been placed five words over. After much deliberation, a discussion with his teacher, and a quick negotiation with his mother, he picked throwing salt over his shoulder, because it was practiced all over the world so it must work. His teacher even helped him find more information about the superstition.

“Some people think it’s because salt has historically been so valuable that only the most fortunate can afford to toss a handful over their shoulder,” his teacher said, on a day when he’d volunteered to stay after and help her clean, she held a book on the history of salt open for him to see, “but personally, I think it would make more sense that it brings good luck because the pure salt has cleaning properties. Maybe it cleans away the bad luck.”

Bruno had silently nodded, staring at the page while he continued to wipe a slate clean. Inside his brain was going a mile a minute.

Three weeks later, when he was taking a shower, his brain got caught on the possibility that Pepa might never forgive him for getting cookie dough in her hair. He didn’t have any salt, and there wasn’t any wood handy in the shower, so he filled his palm with soap and threw it over his shoulder.

When Bruno was fifteen the library got a new book about superstitions, he read it. Apparently knocking on wood was supposed to be good luck because it freed trapped spirits.

He lay in bed with the book spread across his chest until the sun came up, wondering how spirits got trapped in the wood in the first place. And what else could a spirit get trapped in? He made it his mission to knock on every natural material in the house at least once, just in case. It seemed to work for him, because not long after that his Má set aside a whole day just to spend helping Bruno figure out how to keep his rats out of trouble.

He watched her as she handled one of his two pets, looking only a little uncomfortable, until he got up the nerve to ask her, “You don’t like my rats, do you?”

She chuckled, and didn’t bother denying it, “No mijo, I don’t. Here in Encanto we don’t really seem to get deadly diseases, but growing up… rats could be dangerous.”

“Oh,” he stared down at the little rat in his own palm, she was soft and her fur was shiny, “so why do you let me keep them?”

“Because they make you happy,” Alma said without skipping a beat, then with a bit more hesitance she continued, “you remind me of my cousin on my father’s side. She… also had little rituals to help her alleviate her worries. Her life wasn’t always easy… honestly, her life was almost never easy, but when she had her little cat with her she was so vibrant, she had the sweetest smile. Just like you.”

“My life is never easy,” he said, thinking about Señora Florez complaining because his vision revealed her harvest was going to be impacted by some sort of beetle she hated.

“Hm, I’ve noticed,” Alma agreed with a deep frown, “if these rats help you… I can’t say I will ever like them, but I will love them.”

Bruno had smiled a little, entertained by the contradiction. Over the years, when things got rough, he would begin to think that his mother may have loved him, but she had probably stopped liking him at some point. In the here and now, he was interested in hearing more about this cousin of his.

“What sorta rituals did she do?”

His mother frowned deeper, then pursed her lips, a strange tension in her jaw, then it smoothed out and she said, “You know that healing song? The one I used to sing when you skinned your knee? She would do that anytime she thought there was a chance somebody might get hurt.”

Later, when he was much, much older, and he and his Má were having a frank conversation about all of his little rituals, she would admit that most of her cousin’s rituals involved an element of self harm. That she had known there was a chance he would copy whatever ritual she told him about and she had been too scared to mention her cousin’s most common rituals because she didn’t want to see her son hurt himself. 

“She was always so worried about food and water, about there being enough,” Alma would explain, looking deeply sad, “eventually she… she died because of it. She kept hiding food in her room and it attracted all sorts of pests, which eventually attracted snakes. She got bit climbing into her own bed. If she had been stronger, if she had eaten better, maybe…? But she was always starving herself trying to make the food stretch farther. I-I was twelve at the time, and I just… I don’t think I’ve ever truly gotten over it.”

As a result of that conversation Bruno spent the rest of his life folding up his blankets at the foot of his bed instead of making it every morning. It also got him to start eating more, so his mother considered it a win.

But before that, way before that, when Bruno was in his twenties and trying to get over breaking up with his boyfriend, he requested the merchants bring him back any book they might find about romantic superstitions. They had snickered, but agreed, and roughly half a year later Bruno found himself holding a book titled “Lucky in Love: a Guide to Wedding Superstitions”. He would have grumbled over the fact that the book was wedding specific, and he was struggling to so much as find a date much less a spouse, but his sisters were already dating their future husbands. 

Maybe he would find a wife or husband (or a gender neutral “partner” as it would someday be called in some parts of the world when people like him were more open about their existence) at his sisters’ weddings. Even if he didn’t, he would not turn down the chance to give his sisters a bit of extra luck.

It backfired a little, turns out trying to tell Pepa “It looks like rain on your wedding day is actually good luck, so cry all you want” right before he walks her down the aisle is a bad idea. Mostly because he got cut off by the wedding march starting up right after he’d finished saying “It looks like rain”. On reflection, that would have been an awkward way to say it, especially because he was stuttering at the time. On even more reflection, he might have gotten further into the sentence if he hadn’t stuttered over the first word so much.

(It would be literal decades before he got to explain what he meant to say.)

But regardless of the fact that his words apparently set off a hurricane, he was glad he said it. If rain on your wedding day is good luck, then having an entire hurricane rage while you made your vows had to be the best luck possible. Sure enough, Pepa and Félix remained disgustingly in love with each other forever. 

Since Julieta couldn’t summon up a lucky hurricane for herself, Bruno filled her wedding with every other lucky something or other he could. It was a lot of work, and annoyed his mother, but it was worth it because Agustín and Julieta also remained disgustingly in love forever (although they had the decency to be a little less showy about it).

“This is sweet of you,” Julieta said, as Bruno braided a blue ribbon into her hair, leading back to her veil, “a bit much, but sweet.”

“I-I just want to make sure you’re happy,” he said.

“I know, that’s why it’s sweet,” she chuckled, “I know Má has been trying to get you to calm down, a-and I definitely wouldn’t mind if you took a break and actually spent some time with me, but I do appreciate the sentiment behind all this.”

And when she said the word “this” she gestured at the pile of lucky charms Bruno had collected on the bathroom counter. He stared at them and had a moment of clarity.

Sighing, pinning the end of her braid beneath her veil, he said, “I know, logically speaking, th-that it doesn’t really… that even if I didn’t…, you and Agustín are perfect for each other.”

“I like to think so,” Juli agreed, turning on the vanity stool to put a calming hand on Bruno’s forearm while he wrung his fingers.

“But we’re magic, Pá died and we got a miracle because of it, clearly something or somebody out there is paying attention. There has to be… a language to it, a way to communicate when we want help with the little things,” he put his hand on hers and looked deeply into her eyes, trying to convince her even though she had never argued with him, “I-I know the future is what we make it, god do I know, b-but there must be some way to tell whoever or whatever gave us our miracle that I… th-that this… I just want to do whatever I can to make sure you’re happy.”

Julieta had smiled, glowing and beautiful in her white dress, then stood and hugged Bruno, “I can’t imagine ever being truly miserable so long as I have my brother by my side.”

But the moment of clarity he had on Juli’s wedding day was nothing compared to the one he had when he was forty, holding a vision that changed when he shifted it. He stood there for what felt like forever, but he knew it was mere seconds, shifting the tablet back and forth, watching the cracks behind little Mirabel open and close.

In the years to come his little rituals were a vital part of keeping his sanity, but in that moment, it was so incredibly clear that it was all bullshit.

The villagers had their own superstitions. Superstitions about the candle and the miracle and the magic family that lived at the edge of town. Superstitions about him.

And it was all bullshit.

They thought his visions cemented the future into place, but the truth was he could only see a future that was already solid. He was not the artist behind the tapestry of time, he was the guy selling tickets to the gallery showing, he could not show people a tapestry that hadn’t been woven; he did not paint the pictures, he plucked out pictures that had already been painted and filled a museum with them. They thought he was bad luck, that his visions only showed their undoing because he was the one having them, but they never considered that by the time he had the visions it was already too late. Usually, by the time somebody got worried about their lethargic fish or thinning hair it was already too late. Usually they only came to him for visions when they already knew, deep down, that they were screwed. But nonetheless, they thought he was a curse. They crossed themselves before entering his room, threw salt over their shoulders when he passed, clutched their rosaries while they spoke to him.

Just like him, they had their rituals and their superstitions.

It was all bullshit.

He smashed the vision on the only stone in his sandpit, summoning up just a flicker of the future so the sand would blow over the shards. He walked out of his vision cave, but paused at the door.

For a second, a spiteful part of him wanted to show the village what he could have done for them. For a second he thought about spending the rest of the night summoning visions of shared feasts and lively parties, of towering cities to come and alien forests far beyond the Encanto’s mountains, of World Cups won and movies loved and children adored. For a second he thought that he might fill the town square, tile it in emerald, show them all the beauty, all the hope that he could have given them if they would just set aside their fear for once, set aside all their stupid rituals, and let him. Then, once he had shown them how much good he could have done, then he would disappear.

But then there was that itch, that horrible twitching like when your eyelid gets an incessant tick you can’t soothe. Because what if… what if it wasn’t bullshit? What if he really was a curse? What if by waiting, by delaying, he was just ushering in a worse fate for little Mirabel?

He left his cave without a backwards glance and knocked on the first piece of wood he could find.

[crimeboys]

🌹!

“No, we’re not a new restaurant,” Wilbur says into the phone. Most calls are people asking that same question because of the name, Name Pending, that Wilbur and Niki thought was fucking hilarious six years ago. Now, Wilbur wants to ring their quirky little necks. “The name is just an inside joke. Yes, we’re open. Until 6pm. Because we’re a bakery, sir.”

The bell rings as the door opens. Wilbur doesn’t really need the bell because he can see with 100% clarity when people come in, but he and Niki thought it would add that touch of authenticity. As the customer continues to rant about wanting cookies at 7pm, a grimy-looking man walks in. Well, his skin isn’t grimy but his clothes are. Wilbur wonders how one can conceivably get that many stains on a shirt.

Wilbur hangs up the phone despite the customer still speaking and says, “Welcome in. What can I get for you today?”

“A job,” the man says. “If you’ve got one, I need a job. Badly.” Wilbur can afford to keep this place running maybe two months more.

“Well, I’m sorry but you’d probably have better luck-”

“No!” The man shouts, and Wilbur straightens up a bit in his shock. “No, no, no because that's what the lady at the supermarket said.”

“You got rejected by the lady at the supermarket?” They’ve got terrible turnover there. And thieves. This guy’s resume must be shit.

“Yeah, then I went to the bookstore, then the arcade, then the fucking thrift. All of them said, you’ll have better luck down the street!”

“Well,” Wilbur says with a shrug. “London.”

“Oh, fuck London.” Wilbur agrees. “Look, I really just- I just need a job, alright?”

“Yes, but I haven’t got one to give you.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I just prefer to work alone.” A lie. Wilbur misses the loud mornings of baking and music, crooning and dancing with Niki as they laughed, Wilbur always stealing at least one cookie per batch. Mornings with himself are loud in the bad way.

“Okay. I prefer having a job, personally.” The man slaps a paper on the counter. Wilbur bends over to skim it. Oh, nevermind, there are hardly 20 words. It would be hard to skim any more than that.

RESUME:

Name: Tommy Innit Prior Job: ONLY Man Ever Expected Pay: 200 dollars per hour

“Right,” Wilbur says. He folds his hands on the counter. “I’m not giving you 200 dollars an hour.”

“We can negotiate. 199.99 isn’t terrible.”

“You ever heard of minimum wage?”

“Ever heard of knowing your worth?” Wilbur’s eye twitches.

“What could you even bring to the table? You have any skills? Anything that would amount to earning 200 dollars an hour?” Tommy squints, like this question has never occurred to him.

“Work.”

“But what can you do?”

“Work.”

“If you can’t even answer a simple question-”

“Just tell me what to do, I’ll do it! I don’t care what it is.”

“Have you ever baked? Have you ever cleaned?” 

“I can figure it out!”

“Sorry, was that a no on the cleaning thing?” Looking at Tommy’s clothes, Wilbur would wager so.

“Just give me a chance!” Wilbur is not at the fucking place he can just give people chances right now. He’s going out of business, he just got dumped by Dream for the upteenth fucking time, and his little brother had the audacity to offer him money not 24 hours ago. He does not want to garner another fucking loss.

“Why won’t anyone hire you?” Tommy groans.

“Fuck’s it matter?”

“Color me curious.”

“Fuckin’- not a lot of places take ex-cons.” Well, that’s certainly something. That should probably make Wilbur’s choice even easier. But Tommy looks determined, Wilbur might be a little manic right now, and he’s tired of eating burnt fucking cinnamon rolls.

- document titled "relationship scramble"

[silvercatwithnoname]

FNaF AU Part 2

Chapter 2 Daytime

As Michael stepped out of the door, he was greeted by the sunrise, he smiled, he liked the sun. When he arrived at the pizzeria, a tired Leon was getting into his car. “Hello!” the nightguard smiled at him, he was a nice and reliable person. Leon was about the same size as Michael, was twenty years old, had blonde hair, green eyes and very pale skin, most likely a side effect of sleeping most of the day and only leaving the house when the sun either goes down or rises. “Nothing interesting happened tonight, honestly, the most interesting thing that happened was you waving at the camera. How is it going with the new animatronic? Will he be done soon?” Michael frowned “No, I can’t get that thing to function properly, I don’t know why, I’ll return to working on the racoon, maybe I’ll even use some parts of the bunny animatronic, buying new materials all the time gets expensive. Hey, is Nicolas there already?” he asked but Leon shook his head and yawned “We’re lucky that Nico comes on time on most days, I don’t think he’ll ever be early.” He laughed “I’m going home alright? I feel like I could sleep for days…" a smile appeared on Leons face "Don't worry, I won't miss my shift. See you later.” the nightguard yawned again as he got into his car and drove home.

Lara, the pizzerias cook was already working in the kitchen and made a lot of noise, this reminded him of the old Freddy’s restaurant he worked at, the constant clattering of pans, and other kitchen utensils the robot found in there. He decided to say hello to Lara before fixing the stage lights, at yesterday’s show he noticed that they were slightly off and wanted to readjust them before opening. “Hey Mike.” Lara said and smiled at him, she always was cheerful and positive. She was a bit smaller than him, had long dark hair and always wore a necklace with a pendant that showed her zodiac sign, Gemini, she also wore two pink bracelets, one on each wrist. Though she takes the bracelets off when cooking. “Do you think that today will be busy?” she asks while searching for something “No, most likely not more than usual, it’s impressive though how quickly we got so many customers.” Michael has opened up the pizzeria about seven months ago, before opening, he worked in several different Jobs, mostly jobs where he wouldn’t get into contact with many people. He saved the money, which was way easier than expected, after all he didn’t have to eat, and he still lives in the old house his parents owned. He bought material to build animatronics in his father’s old workshop, and managed to get someone to rent him the building his pizzeria was housed in. At first, he managed everything alone, which didn’t work out too well until he hired Nico, Lara and lastly Leon. Nico helps him during the day and sometimes with the animatronics maintenance. Lara cooks and Leon is the nightguard, Michael has to clean up every day by himself, he couldn’t afford to hire a janitor yet, but he didn’t really mind. At daytime, he would keep an eye on everything, but would make sure to not interact to much with the guests, though sometimes he has to talk to customers, this wouldn’t be a problem, if he didn’t look like he came straight up out of a nightmare, he always was afraid that someone would see through his disguise. All it would take is that his make-up was smeared, and his rotten purple skin was visible, or his scarf to loosen enough to reveal what was left of his neck. The rest was fairly easy to hide, he could just keep his right eye closed, when his hair moved, he can keep his mouth shut most of the time to hide his pointy teeth, or just look down when talking. His one purple eye, he could explain as having a very rare eyecolor, the gloves cover his one hand and there is no situation anyone would see his foot or his scars. Michael hated hiding himself like this, but he didn’t have a choice, and when he saw the children laughing and running around in the pizzeria, or being amazed by his animatronics, he thought the whole effort of hiding himself to keep this place running was worth it, sometimes he wondered if his father felt the same, and if he regretted what he did, what he gave up, by becoming a cruel killer. Even though making kids happy wasn’t Michaels only reason to open up his own animatronic restaurant, his main goal was to attract someones attention, the only person that could help him find the remains of his family and put them to rest once and for all. He headed to the stage and turned the lights on, he activated the animatronics and tried to find out what the exact error was, once he found it, he brought a ladder and tweaked the positioning of some of the spotlights until he was happy with the results. Michael opened up the doors and about half an hour later and welcomed the first guests of the day. The place smelled like pizza and Nicolas was wandering around and talked to costumers. He was a tall and slim twenty-three year old, with light brown hair and amber colored eyes. He had his head in the clouds most of the time, at least he seemed like he did, but somehow Nico always manages to pay attention to what was happening around him.

Michael went to his office and saw an advertisement, in two days there would be an auction which would sell some stuff from the old Freddy Fazbear’s. Old decorations, some monitors, chairs tables, everything that was still remotely intact. Even parts of the old animatronics “Someone destroyed those things? I guess it was about time…” he murmured. Then he saw something that sent a chill down his spine, on one of the pictures was the old golden bear, the springlock suit, and the one that had caused Evans death, well, Michael himself caused his death, and he knew that, but it was the animatronic that crushed his little brother’s head. That thing still existed. If he still had a heart, it would be beating faster at the panic he felt when he remembered. He left the room and went outside, he had to calm down, Michael hated the memory of his worst mistake, he hated to be reminded that he himself killed and bullied Evan. “Hey you stormed out of the building, is everything alright?” Somehow Michael didn’t notice that Nicolas approached him “Yeah, I’m alright, I was just reminded... of something terrible and stupid I did.” Sighing he sit down on stairs leading up to the entrance, Nico sat down beside him, but looked the other direction, he knew that Michael hated being looked at. “Everyone does stupid things.” Nico tried to cheer him up, he always tried to make others happy, he was the most positive person he knew, but Michael knew that his mistake couldn't be undone by kind words “Usually, stupid things don’t end in someone dying…” his voice was faint, he wasn’t sure if Nico even heard it. After a while of silence Nicolas said “Sorry…” He got up, not sure what to say “I… I really don’t know what to tell you now. I guess I can only offer that you can talk to me about it, if you want.” A smile appeared on Michael’s face, even though Nico couldn’t see it “Thank you, come on, let’s go back in.” He said and got up, Michael was really glad that Nicolas didn't try to force his usual positivity on him, or asked more questions. Back inside, everything seemed to be how it should be, the animatronics performed their show, the guests were happy and once again he wonders how everything has gone wrong with Freddy’s. He wonders how everything would have turned out if his father hadn’t gone crazy. Michael was sure that he was part of the reason that he lost his mind, after all it didn’t really help that Evan died, and Elizabeth... Well her death was another story, definitely something that would haunt him just as much as Evans death haunted him.. He wandered around the pizzeria and saw a group of children drawing pictures of Jumper, the kangaroo was seemingly the favorite animatronic of most of the children. He headed to the workshop, on his desk were some planned animatronic designs and blueprints. He took one of the raccoon blueprints and made some notes at the side of the paper. Then he looked around the room, his eyes stopped at the unfinished bunny animatronic “Some part of me really wants to get you to work properly, but another part is just creeped out by you… But I already put so much work into you... I guess I’ll try it one last time.

The timed passed by as he tried to finish up the endoskeleton of the bunny, he even built in one of his limiters, Michael developed those to restraint their strength. The animatronics were still technically capable of killing someone, or bite their head off, but the limiters locked parts of the endoskeleton in show-mode, so they weren’t able to use this strength on stage. In case someone got the same stupid idea as him, when he was a kid, or if one of his animatronics had a malfunction. The limiters were build in on the jaw, the fingers and the hands, Michael guessed that the animatronics were safe with the limiters on those places, but he built the endoskeleton in a way which allowed him to use more limiters if needed. Another thing he worked on was an AI for the robots, he tried this with a few prototypes, but it didn’t work yet, so he deactivated them and put them in the workshops small storing room, he only put those with AI in there, if one was activated somehow, it wouldn’t be able to make a mess in his workshop. He tried to give the bunny an AI too, but it acted weird, Michael left the necessary electronics and parts in, but they were turned off for now. Right now, the bunny is the only animatronic with AI that was stored in the workshops main room, just because Michael didn’t want to drag it from point A to point B every night, at least as long as he was working on it. He made progress and it seemed that the bunny wasn’t a hopeless case, if everything worked fine, he would be able to finish him by the end of the week.

Chapter two, thanks for reading.

[thespideymenace]

The station had settled into the quiet hum of late evening. The team was back from a grueling fire in the mountains, battered but unharmed. Most of the crew had dispersed—some to the showers, others to their bunks—but Bode Donovan was still out by the engine, cleaning equipment with a restless energy that couldn’t be ignored.

Sutton watched him from the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. She’d been stewing for hours, the heat of their earlier battle with the fire matched only by the simmering frustration in her chest.

“You ever take a break?” she called, stepping onto the gravel lot.

Bode glanced over his shoulder, his face shadowed by exhaustion. “Can’t afford to, can I? If this stuff isn’t ready for the next call, someone could get hurt.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it,” Sutton said, her voice sharper than she intended.

Bode stopped scrubbing, turning fully to face her. “Alright. Out with it. What’s eating at you?”

Sutton crossed her arms tighter, bracing herself. “You.”

Bode raised an eyebrow, leaning against the engine. “Me? What did I do now?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Sutton snapped. “You ran straight into the middle of that flare-up today, no backup, no plan—just you and a hose like you were invincible. And then you stayed late at the campfire trying to mediate that argument between the inmates, like you’re some kind of savior.”

Bode’s jaw tightened. “I was doing my job, Sutton. Same as you.”

“No,” she said, stepping closer. “You weren’t just doing your job. You were being reckless, again. You’re always trying to do too much—whether it’s throwing yourself into dangerous situations or getting involved in every little fight between the inmates.”

Bode’s face darkened. “You think I’m trying to be reckless? I’m trying to help, Sutton. That’s the whole point of this program—helping people, proving I can make a difference.”

“By risking everything?” she shot back. “You can’t make a difference if you’re dead, Bode. And you sure as hell can’t help anyone if you end up getting your sentence extended because you’re constantly breaking the rules to help others.”

Bode pushed off the engine, his hands on his hips. “So what, you want me to sit back and do nothing? Let these guys tear each other apart? Let fires spread because I didn’t act fast enough?”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you know it,” Sutton said, her voice rising. “I’m saying you need to think before you act. You’re not just putting yourself at risk—you’re putting the team at risk, too. And you’re jeopardizing your chance to get out of here and actually move on with your life.”

Bode’s eyes narrowed. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t know what’s at stake every single day? I’m trying, Sutton. But maybe you don’t get it—what it’s like to have to prove yourself over and over again, to feel like one mistake is all it takes to lose everything.”

Sutton’s heart clenched at his words, but she refused to back down. “You’re right, I don’t know what that’s like. But I do know what it’s like to watch someone I care about constantly put themselves in harm’s way. And I’m telling you, Bode, if you keep going like this, you’re going to lose everything anyway—your freedom, your chance at a fresh start, maybe even your life.”

For a moment, the tension between them was almost tangible, their eyes locked in a battle of wills. Then Bode exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

“Why do you care so much, Sutton?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost resigned.

Sutton stared at him, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. “Why do I care?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “Because I love you, Bode. That’s why. I love you, and it terrifies me to see you throw yourself into danger like your life doesn’t matter. Like you don’t matter.”

Bode froze, his eyes wide as her words washed over him.

“I don’t know how many times I have to say it to you before you actually believe me,” she continued, her voice cracking with frustration. “I fucking love you, Bode. And I can’t—I won’t—stand by and watch you burn yourself out trying to save everyone else while you ignore the people who care about you. While you ignore me.”

Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath, the weight of her confession hanging heavy in the air. Bode opened his mouth, but no words came out, his expression caught somewhere between shock and disbelief.

“Say something,” Sutton said, her voice quieter now, almost pleading.

Bode took a tentative step toward her, his hands trembling as they reached for hers. “Sutton... I—” He swallowed hard, his voice raw. “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

She let out a bitter laugh, tears welling in her eyes. “How could you not? I’ve been trying to show you for months, Bode. But you’re so damn focused on proving yourself to everyone else that you don’t even see what’s right in front of you.”

“I see you,” he said quickly, his grip on her hands tightening. “I see you, Sutton. I swear I do. I just... I didn’t think I deserved that. Deserved you.”

Her heart ached at his words, and she shook her head, her voice breaking. “You don’t get to decide what you deserve, Bode. I love you because of who you are—the good, the bad, all of it. But you have to stop doing this to yourself. You have to stop making it so damn hard to keep you safe.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Sutton. For everything.”

She exhaled shakily, her anger softening as she saw the vulnerability in his eyes. “Then prove it,” she said softly. “Prove it by fighting for yourself as much as you fight for everyone else. Because I’m not going to lose you, Bode. I can’t.”

He nodded, his grip on her hands unyielding. “I’ll try,” he promised. “For you. For us.”

Sutton let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, a tentative smile breaking through her tears. “Good,” she said, her voice steadier now. “Because I’m not giving up on you. Not now, not ever.”

Bode pulled her into his arms, holding her like she was the only thing grounding him to the earth. And for the first time in a long time, Sutton felt like maybe—just maybe—they’d both finally found something worth fighting for.

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, JULY 31, 2012 If what came out in yesterday’s listings is still available this weekend, we may be giving notice to our extremely rude landlord real, real soon. It was another expanded single-wide. It’s a little small at 720 square feet, but it might be livable enough depending on the layout. If they can ever let Tom have a full weekend off, we can go see it. He’s definitely going to call them this weekend either way. If he has to take some of the days off he’s accumulated, fine. The layout can be more crucial to how much living space you have than the actual square footage, so that’s one reason we’re not going to just write it off without checking it out first.

Don’t know if it’s got AC, a swamp cooler, or dual-paned windows, but here are all the good things it does have and why we’re so eager to check it out. It’s only $1500. It looks WAY nice inside. Super modern. Not sure what year it is, but it was absolutely gorgeous! It’s a 2-bed, 1 ½-bath. No one parks alongside it and it’s in a good location within the park that has a nice clubhouse, pool and spa. The lot it’s on leases for just $400 a month! It would be cheap to cool at that size. It doesn’t have a fridge, dishwasher or washer/dryer, but at that price, we could buy the exact models of OUR choice the day we moved in. We’ve got enough cash to buy it all and it wouldn’t matter if it drained our savings cuz as low as our monthly expenses would be there, we’d save it back up again in 90 days or less. :)

As for long-term expectations in a place like that, hell, we could end up with enough money to buy just about any house anywhere when he retires. :)

Again, the layout is everything in most cases. When we moved into this 500-square-foot place, we moved in with what we had. But with the savings this place would give us, we could afford to furnish it according to size to help make it more livable and spacious.

Got up at 4:30. Not even 20 minutes later the fucking mutts start going off. Has Jesse gone back to work? Well, wherever he is, I doubt he’ll be back anytime soon if he’s taken off that early. This means fairly consistent barking till 9am, then scattered spurts till he gets back. Between the barking, the breakage and the shitty Internet connection, I really hope that if this place isn’t it, we find it real soon! This may not be like the Phoenix or the NHA, but I’m more than ready to go!

Later…

The Internet has been out for over an hour and I have a feeling it’s not coming back anytime soon. Really ready to tell them to fuck off and just do the net by cell till we get out of here. Trying to reason with people who simply refuse to help us does us no good at all. These old wires need to be replaced. Period. But they refuse to spend the time and money with how few people there are out here. When the wires act up out here, just a few people lose service. But in the city, 40-50 people lose it so they keep them maintained there unlike out here.

I have a feeling I’m going to be doing a lot of reading and writing today. I’ll probably do some cleaning, too.

Still feeling rundown with some bouts of lightheadedness. Not much in the way of racing heartbeats or palpitations. I probably shouldn’t share this with anyone, but I just don’t feel like myself at the same time I don’t feel sick or anything. My hip still acts up at times, too. My teeth are the only thing that’s been better lately. I still intend to see a dentist once we’re moved, but the salt and baking soda mix is really helping to keep the dental pain at bay.

Anyway, since I already opened my mouth, it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks or believes because I’m pretty sure there’s nothing wrong with me. Could have a bit of a wacky thyroid, which would explain why I have to nearly starve myself to lose weight. Losing weight is supposed to be hard, not damn near impossible. But I’ve already decided to just eat when I’m hungry and allow the scale to do what it wants. I can’t deal with the constant hunger and fatigue it would take to not only get the weight off but to keep it off, too. Do I want to gain 50, 100 or more pounds? No. Absolutely not. But I also don’t want to go through life hungry just to stay where I’m at, and that is so, so much work. Just so much work. So until and if they come out with some magic pill, I’m sure I don’t have to get into how much work and misery would go into actually trying to lose weight and not just maintain it. I’m sick of how every time I think this is finally it and I’m finally going to lose weight, all I end up doing is losing a few pounds that return within a month. Millions of people out there are 50 or more pounds overweight yet they still manage to live life just fine. Well, so can I.

Tom said it looked like I didn’t lose my water this time around like I usually do after periods. Yesterday I felt it throughout every inch of my body. You could see the water in my hands and feet. Today, though, I think most of it is gone. So for the next 20 days, I get to be just skin, bone, muscle and fat. Lucky me.

MONDAY, JULY 30, 2012 Nane appears to have checked out one of my blog posts, but Wissal, the I-know-your-secret girl, hasn’t accepted my friend invite on Jango yet.

That was easy. I tried calling Paula back but it said that mobile phone was no longer in service. Really wish she would just get with the times and email me instead.

What’s not easy is living here. Today’s problem is yet another leak. I’m going to call Jesse at 6:00 about it. There’s not enough light yet anyway. The pressure gauge is leaking and spraying a stream of water. Tom discovered it this morning and says Jesse will spot it right away. I’m just so fucking sick of all the problems in this damn place! I was really hoping they’d hold off till we moved, but even if we’re only here two more months, we couldn’t possibly go that long without some kind of problem. Hell, we can’t even seem to go a month without a problem here and I am just so, so fucking sick of it! I cannot wait to get the hell out, and like I said, I’m ready to settle. We can’t get what we want anyway, so let’s just pick the best of the settlements and go. I’m not staying here another 6 months to a year till we can clear up our credit and get a nicer place.

Really hope our own place doesn’t have this many problems. That’s part of why I was hoping for a place no older than the '80s, but I think we’re going to end up with a '70s place. At least that’s a decade above this '60s place. Maybe after retirement, we can hit the '80s.

Damnit! Just tried to call up there but got no answer. Oh well. It’s his shit of a trailer, and our number will show up on his Caller ID display for him to call me back when he can. Maybe he just got up and is taking a dump.

He just called back. He’ll be down soon.

Later…

Wissal. Interesting name, huh? Well, Miss I Know Your Secret hasn’t accepted my friend request on Jango, so I simply replied to her message and asked her to be kind enough to divulge it. :) I’m pretty sure she lives in Washington, but I don’t know where exactly.

Nane urged us to hold out a little longer and don’t settle for any place we have doubts about, especially since it will probably be our home for a while. She’s got a point. I’d hate to go into a place with any doubts or discomfort. However, we’re not exactly rich here so we’re going to have to settle at least a little. Hopefully not for the dumpiest dump around, but something we can work with easily enough that also won’t be biting off more than we can chew.

Jesse fixed the leak quickly enough and now we’re good to go until the next problem a week or two from now.

SUNDAY, JULY 29, 2012 Both of us have been catching up on our sleep. When I got up at 4am to find Tom had turned the sound machines on I could tell it had been a noisy night. I’m just glad I slept through most of the circus up the hill.

The heaviest part of my period has set in so I may opt out of going to Walmart. As Tom said, we can go anywhere else we want to go for fun later on.

That comment and user I couldn’t find the other day on MyOpera turned out to be a spammer who was removed. They came at me again from Senegal with a similar u/n and a new account they created which was also removed. Then I had to restrict even my photo albums from anonymous comments. It really pisses the shit out of me that MO has become so overrun with spammers and scammers that I can’t allow for anonymous comments. I don’t know why MO is such a magnet for them, but lately, there are tons of spammers that leave their email addresses saying they’ll “show you their pictures.” I never could get this one. Why would anyone want to see pics of someone they don’t even know?

I’m also sick of getting email scams from phishers claiming to be from every law enforcement agency in the country. The only scam that seems to finally be getting old is the various lottery scams.

Later…

“I know your secret.” That was the statement I received in the form of feedback on MD. Well, do tell, whoever you are!

I ran their addy and found them on Jango. So I logged in and friended them. If they accept, I’ll ask them to humor me by letting me in on my “secret.” It seems Aly and I have gotten that same exact “question” on Ask. Anyway, the chick appears to be young but doesn’t look like anyone I’ve seen before. Don’t know her location either.

I gotta remember to call Paula tomorrow. She left a couple of messages.

Found an expanded single-wide for 6K in an ideal location within the park it’s in. It’s way ideal because it’s at the end of a row. That way you not only don’t have neighbors on both sides of you but no one parks directly next to you either being on the particular end that it’s on. It’s only 750 square feet but looks livable enough. It’s not perfect, but it’s functional enough and doesn’t look nearly as ugly as that other place I mentioned. It’s got 1 ½ baths which is what I’d prefer as opposed to 2 baths, cuz we only want an extra toilet and not an extra tub or shower. The clubhouse and pool look really nice, too.

Personally, I think we should just grab the cheapest 2-bed we can find that isn’t a total dump and that isn’t in a questionable location within the park and just go. Why wait around for what we can’t have? We can’t have first best with our credit and I don’t want to stick around another year or two to save even more. Life is about settling anyway, so within reason, I think we should just go for it and get out of here. I’m sick of this place! The lack of space, the shitty Internet connection, Jesse and his dogs…

Tom thinks August 1st will be our last full payment to him. I hope so! September would be an ideal time to get out of here when you think about it, cuz that’s when the outdoor projects, barking, and chainsawing escalate.

Tom said he didn’t turn the sound machines on last night cuz the dogs started barking but just cuz he thought I’d like them to be on.

Lately, I have been having bouts of lightheadedness, shakiness and a racing heart. I also spent the first half of today hungry as hell. No matter what I ate, nothing filled me up. I don’t understand what’s causing this. I don’t feel sick or anything like that.

Why do so many people around here drive so slowly? It’s amazing how many creepers there are in a state you’d think most people would drive like maniacs in. Well, I don’t know how SoCal is, but up here in NorCal they sure love to hold you up. It seems everywhere we go there’s someone slowing us down that’s going 5-10 MPH under the speed limit.

Made out pretty well at Target and spent $50 on new sports bras and nail polish. The sports bras are girls’ size large, and as big as I am they fit great. They’re super comfortable but definitely not meant to be worn as outerwear because of the thin material. Not sure how much support they’ll give these big hooters when working out with the thin material and straps, but I love the comfort they bring. Even a medium would fit well if my weight keeps dropping. I got one in neon orange with purple straps and the other is an inversion of that one; purple with neon orange straps.

For nail polish, I got blue crackle nail polish, frosty royal blue polish, green magnetic polish, hot pink polish, and a hot pink nail art pen.

When I first applied the blue crackle I was like, what the fuck is this shit? It went on streaky, almost like weak nail polish and dried up with a dull matte finish. In the store, I grabbed it cuz I liked the color without reading the words “crackle overcoat.” Then I read up on it online and realized that these things weren’t meant to be worn alone. When I put a thin coat on top of the hot pink, it made it appear like I was wearing blue polish with bright random streaks of pink. It was so damn cool! Because it’s dark, it will look great on any light color. I’ll definitely want a light one some time to put over dark colors.

Had I realized how the crackle polish was meant to be used I probably wouldn’t have gotten the nail art pen. Or the magnetic polish. It’s a rather dismal shade of green that looked better in the store and the effects are rather subtle. It’s still kind of cool even though there are little clumps in it. That’s the iron particles so that the magnet can create the wave pattern.

SATURDAY, JULY 28, 2012 Here’s my home/park attitude for today, which has changed somewhat since yesterday. For better or for worse is a matter of opinion. Despite the money savings, I’m not as thrilled at the idea of taking the dump I recently mentioned. Money to fix it up or not, it is just too ugly and the location is iffy. If the little canal we lived near up in OR could breed such nightmarish spiders, what might this big lake breed for us? Canals and lakes just aren’t like oceans.

I would have to see more about the home and the park to decide if renting this place we found going for $850 would be worth it or not, but I would say it probably wouldn’t be. This is mostly because I don’t like the idea of paying more than we do here. If we’re going to do that we might as well do it with something as new and as nice as the “octangle” house. That’s another thing that’s changed. Now that we know the lot that house is on is cheaper than the triple-wide, I’d go for that first cuz it’s newer, nicer, has a garage, has a pool, and has more reasonable square footage.

We either spend money on something nicer or we spend it to fix up something that’s not as nice. I’m still sick of old dumps and even if we got something that was comparable in cost to this place, saving $500 a month is still a lot of money when you consider that we couldn’t even save 5 cents for the longest time and that’s without even trying. With a little effort, we could save around $700 a month. So it takes us longer to get the things we want for it, but that list would be a lot smaller if we don’t have to replace snot-green sinks, neon piss counters, and diarrhea-brown ovens. Plus paint and recarpet.

I had a dream last night that Tom was all psyched because he got “approved” for something that someone else insisted was just a dream. Meaning that he would never get approved for whatever it was he got approved for. Let’s hope that means we’ll get the house we want. One that isn’t so old and dumpy but still lets us save $500 or more monthly. The biggest thing is always having 3 grand in savings. That’s become our new magic number. Anything above and beyond that is unnecessary and would be seen as a bonus.

For the first time in my life, I am glad for America’s obsession with blacks and the way they are so favored so much of the time. I’d just hate to see Romney get elected for two reasons. One, Mormons are crazy just like Tom said. They’re serious extremists who see sin in everything. You cannot have one single conversation with them without having to hear about God, sinners, and all kinds of other crap that either couldn’t possibly be true or that we can’t possibly know the answers to. Two, Republicans don’t want gays or women to have any rights. They are big-time haters and control freaks who will do anything to force their beliefs on others, and if anyone has a problem with my saying so, fine. Just click on out and into someone else’s blog. It’s that little X up at the top right corner of the screen for you Windows users and the little red dot in the upper left corner for you Mac folks. :)

Tom’s on his way out to work and doesn’t give a shit if he’s late or not. Not after the way they’ve been treating him. They let him come home a few hours earlier so he could get 6 hours of sleep instead of 3, but we wish they’d stop jerking him around and giving him so much OT. The man needs a life for once. But as he said, he’ll just go collect his $20 an hour to just stand there, since he doesn’t expect there to be much work.

“Then why are they having you come in?” I asked him and he said they’re just a bunch of idiots.

I asked him if he thought it could be personal. Hey, my husband is white and older after all, but he doesn’t think so.

I got up at 10pm after 6 hours of sleep, was still kind of tired, and ended up dozing on and off for a couple of hours. It was so nice napping like that late at night with no sound machines and hearing nothing but the train off in the distance. Tom’s snoring got a little annoying at times, but I realized that maybe the way to get used to sleeping with sounds is to actually do it. Not cut the sound machine altogether. I’m too light of a sleeper to do that. But when we move I may start off with just the regular sound machine and see if that alone will be enough. After all, there shouldn’t be motorcycles and other insanely loud vehicles going through there. At least not nearly as often as they come and go from the Jes pest’s place.

Gonna get this posted before the engine gunning, loud motors and barking start up, then it’s off to do the bathroom, laundry and the grocery list.

FRIDAY, JULY 27, 2012 Had a dream I was in Nane’s apartment building standing just outside her door. Although I never saw her in the dream I assumed it was her place because all the signs around me were written in German. It appeared to be a big building and what I was doing there is beyond me. I guess I was either waiting for her to come home or come to the door.

I will never eat another banana again. They make me too gassy. On top of that, I was extremely lightheaded, hot, and had a racy heart for a while yesterday. Too much dieting, I guess. The older I get the more my body rebels against even light dieting.

I am so, so happy now! Although it’s hectic and frustrating at times we are really having fun researching various adult communities and picking out potential places to live. I’m really excited about our latest idea but want to cover the not-so-nice things first.

They’re really jerking Tom around at work and it’s starting to really piss me off. He’s not too happy about it either. I feel not just bad for him, but bad for me as well because when they put him out it puts me out too, not that they give a shit.

He was really liking the second shift and working just 8 hours a day even if it meant a little less money despite the shift differential. Well, he’s hoping it’s just temporary and just long enough to train this woman he’s to train because next week when he returns to first shift on Monday. I guess the woman was driving the forklift, is really fat and won’t lose the weight, so now he’s gotta train her to do what he was doing or something like that.

To make matters even worse, he has to work this Saturday after working late into Friday night. So he’s got to run home at 11:30 at night, catch a few-hour nap, then run back to work at 6am for 8-10 hours, WTF?! We appreciate all the money, but it’s going to really make the move harder if he has to stay on days. He has many days off accumulated, but the more of those days he has to take off to move, the less chance we have of going on vacation. We might have to just fly to Hawaii instead of cruise there.

Because of this, we decided we deserve to really treat ourselves on Sunday after he’s had a chance to catch up on his sleep and make that a fun day. So what if we blow 2 or 3 hundred bucks, we decided, as he can earn that back in just a day or two tops. So we’ll probably go out to Denny’s real early in the morning, then hit Walmart, but not just for groceries. We’ll get fun things as well. As in split up (so we can each visit the departments we like) and just help ourselves to what we want.

Another huge disappointment was what I heard in the bathroom yesterday. It shocked the shit out of me and at first I was confused. I thought, why would Whiskey be down here barking in back? As noisy as they are when Jesse’s out, they’re dead quiet when he’s home or when they’re roaming the land. When they walk by they just walk by. They don’t go barking by or getting into things or anything. They simply walk by without a sound.

Then recognition hit me and I remembered who that bark belonged to. That was the bark of one of the dogs the people in back would let run loose. I was so, so bummed out to hear that, but not because I’m afraid of them. The problem is that they’re so fucking loud. They don’t walk by quietly at all. They come barking onto the land, and when they’re right outside the place, especially with the window closed, it’s loud as hell. I used to see them standing around out there barking at absolutely nothing at all. I am so, so disappointed. With all the people who complained about those people for letting their dogs attack their dogs, chickens and goats, I thought they were gone years ago. That’s what Tom says, but I know what I heard. The owners probably figured that since it’s been a while maybe they can let the beasts run loose and this time no one will mind. Well, I still have the number of the complaint line Jesse gave me and if I start hearing and actually seeing those damn mutts, I’ll mind and I’ll be sure to give them a call. I’m not going to sit and listen to these things bark by or just stand outside the windows barking at nothing. Jesse’s mutts are bad enough. One of the dogs is missing a back leg and another is a pit bull. Those are one of the nastiest breeds of dogs there are.

Later…

The Iceberg Lotus nail polish I have on my toes never fails to dazzle me every time I put it on. It is as beautiful as a color can get that’s far from pink, and it’s about as far away from pink as a color can get. It’s like a bluish-green. Or is it a greenish-blue? It’s hard to say, but I can easily say it just may be my third favorite color.

Swapped messages with my German hottie today. It’s hot and humid there, but she’s enjoying it while it lasts. German summers aren’t long.

Found a nice site called Nulu that’s great for advanced Spanish speakers to get their Spanish Spain-ready, even if they’ve got a decade and still may not end up there for sure. I may be knowledgeable and fluent for a non-native speaker, but there’s always room for improvement. There are always more obscure words to learn and I can improve my listening skills by listening to different accents. Some are harder to understand just like some people who speak English can be harder to understand. Yo no siempre intiendo (I don’t always understand).

We got a secured credit card with credit of $500 on it to start helping to boost our credit, and we’re getting fonder of the idea of going with cheap and uglier as opposed to nicer and newer for a couple of reasons. One is to make it exactly what we want it to be, and then the obvious reason; the money savings, since it would be on a cheaper piece of land. I’m also dying to do more wall tats like what I did on the dresser and headboard.

Any and every place is going to have its pros and cons with both the inside and the outside, but if we got that triple-wide, for example, the expenses would be comparable to what they are here after the place was paid off. So we could still save $500 - $700 a month comfortably enough.

But saving money has made me greedy and want to save even more. With this ugly-as-hell dump, we could save around a grand a month. I’m only sharing the link to it with my utmost of closest friends in case we do end up living there. So that means only Andy, Maliheh, Nane and Aly will see it. They should feel honored and special:)))

When I say it’s ugly, I mean it’s UGLY! Whoever designed it had the EXACT opposite taste in colors I have. The outside is bright and colorful and feminine with a sunny yellow exterior and pink flowerbed. The color of the oven alone makes me want to cry, and the tub and sinks are just sickening. Even the damn toilet seats match all that damn paneling I wish to hell had never been invented!

But when you know that in 6 months or less you could recarpet, paint, wallpaper and get rid of the institutional gray carpet, the snot green tub and sinks, the diarrhea brown oven, the puke brown walls, and the neon piss countertops, the money that can be saved living on a $500-a-month lot as opposed to a $765 one, is damn appealing.

These modulars are usually pretty black and white. Meaning, you will usually find single-wides like this that are too small, or bigger ones that start at around 15K. This ugly place is the cheapest 2-bed, 2-bath we’ve found so far. It’s $6500. I also like the square footage better on this one which is just over 1100. 1000-1400 is reasonable for us, but the triple-wide is almost 1800. I’d rather too much space than too little and I would still prefer the triple-wide over this thing, but it does have some potential as ugly as it is.

Unlike the park the triple-wide is in, this park has a pool. We checked it out via satellite and there’s nothing around it that could end up being a problem. There are just the freeway and the lake that wraps around most of it. Some of the lakeside homes are really nice and they have docks and boats. Those would probably be pretty expensive. There’s also a KOA near it, but not close enough to be a problem. Car stereos shouldn’t be an issue cuz there’s nowhere to go, so people wouldn’t be cutting through the park. Once you enter the park it’s like entering a maze with many dead ends. They all lead you to various parts of the park with no way out.

I don’t like the location within the park nearly as much as the triple-wide. No doubt about that much. I’d worry I wouldn’t sleep well there when I was on nights, but I would think that that’s about as bad as an adult park could get. So if I could sleep there, I could sleep in any adult park anywhere. But still, I don’t like how the people to the left would park right alongside us or how close it is to the street that isn’t at the end of the dead-end I’d prefer to be on. What we saw across the street is a little worrisome, too. We suspect that since it has a little parking lot and a dumpster (that’d be an eyesore to look out and see) the park maintenance people may work or live there. Lastly, I don’t want people camped outside my window gabbing all day whether I was up or not, or rummaging through storage sheds.

It is so appealing yet such a turn-off at the same time! Wish we could spend a few days/nights in different places to see what it’s like. With the way people are so company-happy, the thought of being jolted awake by tons of car doors does not sit well with me at all.

We’re both torn between a nicer more expensive place and a cheaper place that isn’t as nice but leans more toward the money saver. The problem isn’t that we couldn’t afford to make payments on something we couldn’t afford to buy outright, the problem is getting places being sold by realtors to approve us even though our credit score isn’t that great. But regardless of what the home costs, it would be nice to be on a lot that’s $400 - $500 a month instead of $750 - $850. It’s just that the cheaper lots are the ones the dumpier places are housed on.

Tom thinks that we haven’t found the house that’s going to be ours yet and that if he had to guess, it’s a park-owned home that isn’t advertised online. The parks just don’t have time to maintain sites online so you have to drive through the parks and see what for-sale signs you can spot.

If we do end up in that place, though, it’ll feel like a palace compared to this place, just with ugly colors. We’d also need to buy a refrigerator right away. But to be able to easily afford the front-loading washer I’ve always wanted in this place is still mighty tempting. I’d just worry about being able to sleep there during the daytime. Tom said we could cushion the bedroom floor if we needed to with thick padding and I asked what good that would do since it’s a vibration and not just a sound (when people slam car doors). He said car engines vibrate a lot but you don’t feel it cuz it’s mounted against rubber instead of the frame of the car. Well, I guess it’s that same idea. There are other things that can be done to soundproof a room, but I’d rather not have to. I’ve been soundproofing this and adding sound machines to that long enough!

I feel like this searching has been going on forever! But as Tom reminded me, while I’ve been impatient and wanting to move on, he hasn’t even been 55 for a month yet. Still, I hope we find something soon. I just want to get out of here and on with life already! But the longer it takes the more money we save.

THURSDAY, JULY 26, 2012 Got to listen to the damn mutts for a little bit this evening on a weeknight of all nights. I was worried he’d be gone overnight so I couldn’t enjoy a movie later on in peace (if I could stay online long enough), but I heard a car door slam shortly after 11:00. He’s the only one I can hear around here, so it had to be him. Plus it’s been quiet for 45 minutes now.

Dealing with this shit for two decades has got me so fed up that I don’t see how I wouldn’t lose it at the next place if dogs left outdoors unattended to bark up a storm continues to be an issue for us there as well. I will literally go over and kick the thing to death. Or at least have a helluva time keeping myself from doing just that as dogs have more rights than humans unless you’re not white. They’d put me in jail for years for that. But complaining to the owner either makes things worse or gets nothing accomplished. They’ll either blow up in my face like they did in Phoenix and make my life a living hell, or they’ll just give me all kinds of lame excuses, “There’s nothing we can do about it.” “Oh, but he’s a good dog and doesn’t bite.” “That’s just what dogs do. Babies cry, dogs bark.”

Yeah, and the pushed-to-the-limit sometimes snap.

The law wouldn’t give a shit because they’re more interested in what people have to say as opposed to what they let their mutts do, and God help me if they’re not white because they will use their race/nationality as a crutch and it will be guaranteed to work in their favor. Therefore, I will simply end up looking like someone who’s picking on them for their color and not for their refusal to control their dogs.

My hip is better today. I’m taking a couple of days off from working out, though I don’t know if I can stand to take the whole week off Tom recommends. I’d probably gain weight if I did even if I stuck to my diet, which is going very well lately now that I’m doing it right. I didn’t realize the protein was having such negative effects on me. It’s also better to go 3 hours between snacks and meals instead of 2 when I can stand to do so. I’m PMSing now so hunger levels are up a bit and it’s hard to pinpoint my exact weight with all the water I’m carrying.

Tom finally drove the forklift at work. He said he was a little nervous at first since it was something new. He described how it works and how he wears a harness that’s attached to a cable and all that. He goes up as high as 25’. That’s a scary thought! But he said it’s more dangerous to things around him than it is to him.

Later…

I went to bed hoping I’d “see” where we may move to in my dreams. Well, I was somewhere, in some house, but can’t remember it to save my life!

Then I got lost in Italy. I was there with my mother of all people. We sat down in a large and crowded dining area in some mall with some other woman we may or may not have met there. For some reason, I decided to wander around and see some shops. Maybe I wasn’t hungry or maybe I thought it’d be a while before someone took our order.

I found myself in a doll shop and decided I needed one as a souvenir even though I’d quit collecting dolls years ago. I pulled a tiny, old and beat-up vinyl doll from a bin and asked how much it cost more out of curiosity than interest. I was told it was 21 cents, and why we were speaking English and not Italian is beyond me.

Then I picked up a larger doll made of all porcelain. I found it weird that her hairline extended so far down her forehead that it came to right above her eyebrows.

I placed the doll back and returned to the diner. Only my mother and the other woman were gone. A slow panic began to rise within me. I knew that if they didn’t return I might never find them because I had no idea where to even begin to look. So that’s how I awoke, lost and looking for mommy at age 46.

TUESDAY, JULY 24, 2012 Alison confirms she hasn’t been on Ask in days, so it isn’t her that’s been asking the mixture of simple and polite to rude and religious questions unless I don’t have the clue that I think I have as far as who’s crazy and who’s not. Oh, I know for a fact that Molly and Kim are crazy, but is anyone else out there crazy and two facing me that I’m not aware of?

I would still be willing to bet that today’s poorly spelled, “Have you asked for forgiveness lately” came from Molly. When Kim brings up God it’s to tell you He hates you. When Molly brings up God it’s to tell you things like how He’ll be nicer to you if you’re nicer to others.

Yeah, I should be asking God to forgive me for refusing to be their friend, all right. rolls eyes I have a two-strikes-you’re-out rule. Nane dumped me once. I forgave her when she wanted to make up. If she ever chooses to end the friendship again, that’s the way it stays. This is my rule with everyone and I don’t care how damn good-looking you may be. But Kim and Molly are far from good-looking, so that makes it all the easier not to want to associate with them.

Aly says it’s hard to say if Molly’s still reading my journal or not. She doesn’t think Molly would be smart enough to disable cookies beforehand and more than likely she believes in her mind that if she leaves me alone (at least in ways I can see) I’ll be more likely to want to talk to her the next time she reaches out to me.

Worst of all she says the sick cock she has to work with is still harassing her. She and a couple of others are getting a restraining order against him tomorrow and says she doesn’t understand how this cock can be allowed to work where 3 people are taking legal action against him and fears the restraining order will make things worse.

Sure it will. When you show some sick fuck that he can keep his job and stay out of jail no matter how many people he assaults, threatens, stalks and harasses, of course they’re going to retaliate when someone tries to stop them. Until this cock actually kills someone, the shit’s not going to stop.

And people wonder why I have no respect for law enforcement and no faith in God!

It just hit me that Molly may be going to my other blog that I can’t track. I started posting the first 4 months of this year and some of it mentioned her and her shit. That may’ve prompted the “Have you asked for forgiveness lately” thing.

Later…

That strange noise I heard the other night was thunder after all. We had an unexpected storm that’s rare for July blow on through here, but it was mostly thunder and lightning and hardly any rain. It only lasted a few hours and we only got a drizzle.

Ok, you God lovers out there! This entry may offend some of you so don’t say I didn’t warn you up front. If you read this and get all upset, remember you chose to read it, so I don’t want no complaints or anything like that after I made this clear. Disagree if you will, but don’t expect to change my beliefs or edit this entry.

I was watching this horrific case on Hulu about this guy who killed his girlfriend and then nearly decapitated his 3-year-old daughter. snorts with disgust And people believe God is good? Well, I’m sorry but I wish people would wake the fuck up and quit bullshitting themselves! I try my best to let people think, do and believe as they will so long as it’s not harming anyone, but in cases like this you just want to shake some of them at times! No good, loving God would allow something like this to happen. This can only mean one of two things. Either God’s a real asshole or there’s a separate entity that is and it has a helluva lot more power than God has.

Either way, I guess most of us have to tell ourselves what sounds best in order to cope with this big bad world. Telling yourself something far beyond your control may have it in for you as well as an awful lot of others out there may be true but it’s anything but a comforting thought. People want to believe what they want to hear. So what do you do? You tell yourself God is good and that He loves everybody. Then you close your eyes to everything else. But again, we all gotta do what we gotta do to get by. For me it’s time spent with my husband and doing my hobbies; not telling myself there’s a guardian angel out there waiting to catch me if I fall. I’ve fallen many times in life and while I may’ve survived, no one caught me when I fell. And no one’s gonna catch me in the future either.

So the next time you want to tell yourself that God doesn’t give us more than we can handle, you might want to think of all the little kids out there who could only stand by helpless as hell and utterly horrified while those who were supposed to love and protect them brutally murdered them instead. Yeah, that little 3-year-old sure got a helluva lot more than she could handle when Daddy slit her throat. Ah, but God is good, right?

On a happier and more exciting note, we’re looking forward to the 3rd! That’s when we’ll have more money than we’ll need to officially get the ball rolling toward our new home. Just don’t know if we should go for older and cheaper or newer and more expensive. We could afford both. It’s just that we won’t be able to save a grand or more a month if we go with the latter.

My hip is still bugging the hell out of me at times. It’s like it’s taken over my teeth and I still don’t know what’s wrong with it.

Tom’s now up to $14.33 regular time and $21.50 OT. The funny thing is that his computer knowledge is the reason he’s paid more than everyone else (they make $10) yet they’ve never had him working on computers.

MONDAY, JULY 23, 2012 Got up at 8pm to find Tom, who’s usually in bed by then, wide awake and at his computer. A split second of panic went through me as I remembered how he stayed up to tell me he’d been laid off the last time around. Instead, he told me that while it may only be temporary, he and a couple of others will be starting on second shift tomorrow and getting a little bonus for it. That’s great! Second or third shift always makes it easier to do things that need to be done during regular business hours. Things like moving, going to dentists, etc. So he’s going to stay up till midnight since he has to work from 2:30 - 11:00.

Really hope this is a good sign that something up there (Dad?) is helping to pave the way home for us and line things up in our favor. If it is, then the move is getting close and I should start getting more info from my dreams.

Not that I plan to change my mind, but I had a disturbing thought about these “adult communities” that say only one has to be 55. Well, what’s to say we couldn’t end up next to a woman with a 10-year-old and an older BF or husband? Or how about a young woman with a couple of 4-year-olds living with an older parent? I don’t know if there’s a limit on the number of residents. I guess it varies from community to community. But most parents are single these days and this is totally the kind of shit luck we would have ending up next to a couple of preschoolers home and outside screaming all day long. But until I too am 55, we can’t go to an all-55 and up community.

Tom thinks we’ll get next to all adults. I sure hope so and that they don’t live outside from sunup to sundown, but this is a relatively warm climate. Therefore I’m expecting people to be outdoors more than indoors. But if they can carry on like civilized human beings while they’re at it and tend to their yard work when it needs it and not every single day just for the fun of it, we’ll have it made.

So I get a “how be everything going for you deary?” on Ask and my first thought is Aly. But then I saw that Molly had answered a few questions and had to reblock her yet again (I don’t know how she keeps coming unblocked even when her u/n doesn’t change) so it could’ve been her. By asking a pleasant and simple question like that she can know I would answer in the same manner and then get to “feel” like we’re buddies. Still, I check her account every day to make sure it’s blocked, even though she could come at me anonymously when I have that enabled.

I asked Aly (who I hope is ok) if it was her that asked that. I also asked if she thought Molly could be dodging my tracker but still reading my blog for some reason, even though she’s never seemed to care about trackers before. If anything I think she liked being seen.

As funny as it may sound I almost miss her faithful viewings, though I also don’t need the constant prying eyes of someone I dislike.

Later…

Tom made it till nearly 11, and I ate nearly 2 hours before I planned on eating, but close enough.

Upon screening old journals for publishing on MD, I looked back on a lot of the shit that happened back east with disgust. Particularly the legal trouble I got into. I’m disgusted, ashamed and embarrassed both at myself and at the South Deerfield pigs. How could I have not only done something as stupid and as pointless as prank calls, but how could I have been so goddamn naïve when it came to the pigs?! Shit, that was worse than naïve; that was downright dumb! Why couldn’t I see through the pigs’ utterly phony as hell “friendly” disguise? Was I that lonely and desperate for positive attention or something? Well, I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me, but despite the fact that yes, I broke the law, the pigs ought to be ashamed and disgusted with themselves for the way they carried on with their lies and other bullshit. I’m as embarrassed for them as I am for myself and even though it was over 20 years ago it’s sad and even scary to know that you’ve got scum like that who were and are supposed to “protect and serve.” Not “lie and manipulate.” I’m just sick of the double standards! They can speed all they want, they can lie all they want, and they are literally above the law they’re supposed to abide by! Well, I don’t ever intend to break the law again. At least not knowingly or intentionally. However, if I’m ever taken advantage of like that ever again by any so-called authority figure(s), I swear I’ll be the richest chick in whatever town I’m living in at the time when I get through with them!

Now here’s where it gets really weird, although in my favor. Definitely in my favor. Back east I had to go to court – IDK – maybe 6 to 8 times. All for prank calls and nothing else. However, when I lived in South Deerfield it was the first time I got in trouble in two different towns at once (Greenfield and Northampton). Of all the Springfield charges I can remember, I got in trouble for pranking 1 stranger, the crisis center, an old friend named Jenny, and 2 cops. I didn’t even know one of them was a cop, and the other was married to an old boss/friend of mine and I guess I just didn’t care what his occupation was. I was targeting his wife for stabbing me in the back, not him. The other pig, not surprisingly, had me arrested and came to tell me I was “lucky he didn’t know where I lived” when I was by myself in a small holding cell.

Here’s my big question: Why were all but one of the 7 cases dismissed??? The only one that I ended up being thrown on probation for was Greenfield and even that “faded away” when I moved. All they wanted were monthly forms stating my current address. Ok, so I’ve been known to have both good and bad influences on the outcomes of some things in a way that falls into the psychic category, but how could even I have influenced 6 plaintiffs, 2 being cops, not to show up in court? Clearly, someone kept getting me off. Why didn’t I see this before? There’s no way they all could’ve said “what the hell” and failed to show up. Nor were the cases dropped cuz they felt sorry for me for being poor and on disability. Nor was it cuz they thought I was cute. Someone with some serious clout had to have gotten all these cases dismissed.

I do remember something weird that maybe had to do with a lawyer I was related to. Someone named Jimmy. If you go to the police station or are picked up on a weekend with a default warrant out on you (there was one out on me at the time for failing to appear for Jenny), they’re supposed to hold you all weekend and bring you to court on Monday morning instead. Well, when Kim drove me to the SPD for calling that cop Laurie (ok so 3 cops I picked on, though I didn’t exactly “pick on” Laurie. I called, I hit on her, she took it wrong, then she used her badge against me) the sergeant we spoke to that night said he had better things to do than waste time on my calls and dispute with Laurie and that’s when he mentioned this lawyer. If I ever met him, I don’t remember it. Then I was ROR’d out of there on a weekend of all times and ordered to appear in court for Jenny. I did. Then the case was… yeah, you guessed it… dismissed.

I also remember being in South Deerfield on the phone with my sister one night and telling her I wasn’t sure whether or not I should let Mom and Dad in on what was going on. She suggested they might already know about it. Well, unless they “hired” Kim to report what was going on with me, maybe I did have this lawyer relative who kept getting me off, but that couldn’t get me off with Greenfield because it was out of his territory.

Kim was oddly afraid to address an envelope to my folks one time. I don’t remember why I wanted her to send them something for me. This was after I moved out west. I think it was some joke that had to do with something I printed from the computer when the internet and all that was still relatively new, though I fully intended to eventually let them know it was me behind it. I sent the thing to Kim and asked one night over the phone if she sent it down to them. She had said something like, “Yeah, I had a friend write out the envelope.” I asked why she would do that since they’d never seen her handwriting and she said you never know. But she should know. They only met her a couple of times, they were never in her apartment, and so they shouldn’t have ever seen her handwriting.

I guess that, and whoever was calling me after I was charged and whoever seemed to know some of my movements for a while in South Deerfield, will forever remain a mystery.

Life sure is weird at times. There I was getting off when I was guilty and going down when I wasn’t on the other side of the country. It was like Phoenix ended up being my karma, though that doesn’t make me any less pissed about it or the situation any less wrong. No one should do time for something they didn’t do, or do a sentence fit for someone who beat the crap out of someone when all they really did was something so petty and harmless in comparison. Yeah, doing half a year and losing thousands of dollars for a letter I didn’t write was a huge step above and beyond getting off for doing something that at worst, was highly annoying.

SUNDAY, JULY 22, 2012 OMG, what the hell was that? I just heard something that sounded like it could’ve been thunder or a large animal or person either crossing the porch or running across the planks in back (the trailer is set against a cliffside). Although the wind chimes are sort of active, July isn’t the time of year here for thunder. It really sounded more like footsteps running, but who the hell would be traipsing around in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night? And dumb enough to make that much noise in an area where most people have guns. We’re not armed, but pretty much everyone else is around here.

And what was that I heard a couple of hours ago? That one sounded more like it was inside the place, sort of like the floor creaking. I thought Tom got up for some reason, but he didn’t.

Ok, so maybe this is not just paranoid of me but downright insane, but I still live in fear of old enemies hunting me down and harming me. Oftentimes what has worked for us in the past doesn’t always work for us again in the future. So if you once victimized someone through the law, but the law finally saw through at least one of you enough to kick your ass out of law enforcement and vindicate the real victim in the case, why not screw them outside of the law instead? Especially if you may be pissed off over someone’s “testimony” that helped expose you for who you are and get the word out about you? Whether you have been or are presently in law enforcement, you should be able to pull some strings and find practically anyone you want. Then with or without your sick little buddies, lovers or whoever the hell they may be to you, why not go visit them if you feel they’re that worth spending the time and energy on, right? Gosh, I hope not!

After Tom helped me figure out what the hell was blocking my computer from logging onto Twitter, I’ve now shared the link with Nane as well, but no one else. I know Andy and Aira would like me to add them, but I’d rather keep it just for Maliheh and Nane (because they don’t tweet) and not have to worry about annoying or being annoyed by overtweeting. I can always change my mind later on if I want to. Another reason I don’t want to give the account link to just anyone is cuz of Molly. Even when I was careful not to post new links, like my Ask account, Aly and others who she also stalks would post theirs and she would find me through them.

SATURDAY, JULY 21, 2012 Tom just went to bed to catch up on his sleep and tomorrow he’s going to enjoy his only day off this week. He said I don’t need to be with him, but next weekend he’s going to drive through the most desirable parks and decide who he’s going to call. I’ll probably be with him, though. My schedule is usually 12 hours ahead of whatever it was the week before. So since I got up at 4:30pm today, I should be getting up at 4:30am next weekend.

So this weekend has been a “non-action” weekend. Other than yesterday evening’s loud motor show, it’s been hot, dry, quiet and just wonderful.

Once we get moved Tom may see what other jobs are available in the area. He makes great money and the benefits are good, but he’s just not happy. They’re working him to death and he’s working with a bunch of stupid idiots. With his experience, he should be able to find a job with similar pay and benefits. Besides, the only part of the benefits that’s really good is dental, which we’ll use for the bulk of my dental needs once we get moved. Also, the 401K is nice but they only match half of it and not all of it like most companies do.

Then I got to thinking about it and I really wonder if he’s not just as cursed with jobs as I am with getting neighbors who allow their dogs to bark every single fucking place we go. Tom doesn’t mind cuz he grew up with that shit. But I didn’t. Dogs are supposed to be household pets where I come from, not noisy lawn decorations. I just can’t remember the last time he had a job he was happy with. It seems they always suck from the get-go or they start off ok, then they end up sucky.

Still losing weight since I stopped lifting. Even my thighs don’t rub together as much when I walk. But this hip shit really pisses the shit out of me. My right hip has been really annoying, even painful at times, and I don’t know why. Sometimes it seems like the pain is coming from different areas and is hard to pinpoint exactly where it’s at. Sometimes it seems to start in the hip and shoot down to my knee. Other times it starts in my hip and shoots back to my ass. I cannot lie on it or in certain positions. It seems the only one I can lie in that doesn’t aggravate it is on my back. I don’t know if it’s cuz I’m getting older, the years of running or what, but I hope it doesn’t get any worse. If I’m ever unable to work out, I’ll gain tons of weight even if I eat like a bird.

The daily shots of bug spray under the sink have been helping to keep the bees from invading the bathroom. Still gets a little nerve-wracking parking my ass on the toilet at sunrise and sunset when they’re most active.

FRIDAY, JULY 20, 2012 Went back to Twitter but decided to share my little microblog there with just Maliheh for now. Haven’t decided if I want to share with Nane yet. I don’t think I will, though. The reason I’ve decided to be so secretive about this one and have signed up as Miss Anonymous is that I have more freedom this way. This way I don’t have to worry about overtweeting and annoying friends, or feeling obligated to follow back those that annoy me with their own share of overtweeting like Kim used to do. I can’t control who chooses to follow me, but I don’t have to follow them back if they’re not friends and they can choose to unfollow me anytime they want.

The reason I chose Maliheh is that we have no mutual friends. I would have loved to have bitched about Kim on my old Twitter account but couldn’t do that because I knew it would offend Alison. This way I don’t have to worry about offending anyone. So yeah, the decision’s been made. Only Maliheh will read this entry and only she will get the link, and I will make sure I don’t connect my Twitter account with my Facebook account or anything like that where I use my real name.

Another reason for sharing my “secret” Twitter profile with Maliheh is because that way if she wants to, she can get an idea of what my current schedule is like and whatever else I’m up to and random thoughts I may have. She doesn’t have to check it of course. I’m just going to make the link available to her so she has the option.

I kind of wish Maliheh would start tweeting from her own secret account too, so I could know what was up with her even when we weren’t in the mood to chat, and even if it were something as trivial as what she ate for lunch, but I understand that isn’t her thing.

Maybe I’ll end up deactivating on Twitter. I left for a while because I got sick of all the constant change and the forced ads, recommendations and “promoted” tweets being thrown into my stream.

For now, it will be for Maliheh and I, though I’ll still tweet at least for a while even if she’s not interested in checking it out, and have fun changing backgrounds every few days or so. They don’t allow animated ones, but I have plenty of stills to decorate with.

Later…

It fucking figures that less than 24 hours after rejoining Twitter the site is down. I can’t access it at all, so they’re down hard. Probably got flooded over the latest mass murder.

Before I state what’s on my mind, remember that you chose to read this blog. If you’re sensitive or you disagree with what I may have to say, that’s fine, but that’s your problem. Whether you live in my country or not, whether you’re rich or poor, whether you have an “important” job or not, I don’t want to hear it. It’s fine to disagree, but don’t even think for a minute that so long as I don’t harm or threaten anyone you can still mess with my rights. Or try to. The worst you can do is make yourself look worse and me get rich. So… am I worth it?

Ok, so as far as what’s on my mind. That’s easy. I hope to hell they fry the guy’s ass that’s responsible for the theater shootings in Chicago. I really do. I’m glad he’s white because that will up the chances of him getting the death sentence he deserves instead of pity and a lifelong stay at a local funny farm at the taxpayer’s expense.

What pisses the shit out of me is knowing that this cock probably will get off on an insanity defense because apparently, he’s showing no sense of reasoning, unlike the Oklahoma bomber. He was sane and did what he did for a reason. The government fucked him over so he blew up one of their buildings.

That’s another thing that’s scary. You would think those that have bombed or flown into government buildings would be an example to the government of just what can happen when you fuck over your own while catering to the rest of the world, yet they still go on fucking us over and nearly killing some of us as in the case with my husband and I last year.

Ok, why is my landlord driving his loud truck up and down the driveway??? I have sound machines and fans on yet I still hear this fucker! That’s why we may as well not worry if we go back to having neighbors so close to us. They’re going to be just as annoying whether they’re close to us or hundreds of feet away, so why not? Seriously, God doesn’t give us any breaks when we distance ourselves from neighbors, He just makes them louder. What this cock is doing right now more than makes up for the distance. It’s no different than if he were just an arm’s length away. It’s getting dark, though, so maybe it’ll stop soon, and he’ll either stay home or take off for the night like he sometimes does on Friday nights and leave me with 8 hours of barking.

What else can I complain about? How about attitudes toward suicide? Just like some people’s attitudes towards rape victims suck with the way they blame them and not the perp, people always blame the suicide victim, too. Sure there are some that kill themselves for the wrong reasons, and sure some of them would have made it through life just fine had they not given up when they did, but what if Tom and I hadn’t received a miracle in the end and therefore gone through with our plans? I’ll tell you exactly what would’ve happened. People would’ve blamed us for our own deaths and insisted we just “didn’t try hard enough.” But when you fill out every application available to you yet no one calls, that’s NOT your fault. Luckily for us, though, one did just that in the nick of time, and they saw past Tom’s age and skin color and right through to his qualifications.

We still would’ve preferred to go quickly and painlessly in the comfort of our own home and bed, as opposed to slowly starving on the streets, but we definitely would’ve preferred to go on living a normal life. We are forever grateful to our deceased loved ones for saving us in the end, cuz no other theory makes sense to us and it’s too hard to write it off as a coincidence. At the same time, I wonder just how much of an influence the dead really have on the living. Overall, it doesn’t seem like much. But I wonder things at times like if my dad can and will try to help us get the right home.

It annoys the hell out of me when people say that suicide isn’t the answer. That should be up to each individual to decide and not society. It’s our lives and our bodies. So if you can tell me that suicide wouldn’t have been the answer had a miracle not saved us in the end, then what you’re basically saying is that a slow miserable death on the streets would have been the answer. Sorry, but that’s just pure bullshit knowing my own self as well as I do. I’m pretty in tune with what my limits are and what I can and can’t handle. Streetlife wouldn’t have been one of them. But someday, unless something else kills us in the meantime, my husband will die and then I will kill myself so I don’t have to live without him, rich or poor, then you can all blame me for it. :)

Last night’s negative dreamfest consisted of the dogs barking and me going to turn the sound machine on to drown them out. But the sound machine wouldn’t work. So I decided to go yell at them to shut the hell up, even though I knew it would only last about 10 minutes. Yet when I opened the door to let them have it, the place looked just like we were in the city. Instead of seeing trees and hills, all I saw were closely set houses.

The other bad dream I remember is that I had been run over by a car and was trying to sue the driver for millions of dollars. One night I was at a party and although I seemed to be just fine physically, I was talking to a legal expert at the party who told me that the case would probably drag on for years and in the end, I would most likely lose. I felt myself tense up with anger, not just because of what they said, but knowing that God would protect my perps as usual. Then I spotted the guy who ran me over. I hurled myself at him and he went down on his back with me on top of him. I pummeled his face with my fists till it was perfectly red and unrecognizable. It took 3 or 4 people to pull me off the cock.

sighs Why can’t I have fun, happy dreams more often? The kind you hate waking up from.

When I was bitching to Tom about there not being any home jobs that pay at least minimum wage, he said everyone would be doing them if there were. Really? I thought most people would want to work outside of the house and be around other people.

I had to laugh when Tom said he worried if I’d be able to survive an adult community without blasting music. LOL, I don’t have to blast music. I do it cuz it’s more convenient than using the iPod when I’m cleaning or something like that. I’d worry more about how well others will control their dogs there than anything I may do. I can use iPods and headphones anytime I need to. I don’t expect two big dogs to be left outside overnight to bark their asses off, but I still worry about a small dog being left out during the daytime when the people are working, or more than likely out on errands or entertaining company since we don’t seem to be allowed to have neighbors who work no matter where we live. Besides, the only pet restrictions I’ve seen mentioned so far are the size and number of dogs/cats, not that they’re not allowed to live outdoors.

Jesus, now TIP is down. What is wrong with people tonight?!

THURSDAY, JULY 19, 2012 There are now at least 40 bees in the trap, so now it’s cost us about a quarter a bee. Definitely better than a buck a bee, LOL.

I haven’t heard from any Internet trolls today because they don’t have the balls to drop their masks of anonymity and show themselves before fucking with me.

No nightmares last night. Just a quick dream of drawing with a green crayon and another of being in a very old house with a very high ceiling.

Tom’s still working 10-hour shifts and is tired but getting us richer by the minute. He still doesn’t get why they want to spend money on unnecessary OT. His only guess is that they want to have more employees for some reason and they hope that this is the way to achieve that.

Miss Not Allowed to Make Money has been told about what’s going on with Alison and she is so fucking enraged it isn’t funny! I’m not just pissed for her, but it only drives my anger and hatred towards men in general even deeper. And the fucked up “justice” system as well.

She made me promise not to tell anyone since she signed an agreement not to discuss it with anyone but wanted to tell me because she felt the need to get it off her chest and felt that it would help her to talk about it. She’s only got Dustin and her friend Regina, who also works where she does to talk to, and of course Kim’s too crazy to be trusted. I’ll keep it out of public though I don’t see the harm in telling Tom and Maliheh.

She lost her cyber defense job to some cock with more experience and because of some stuff going down she didn’t agree with. She was ok with this because she got a job as a security specialist immediately afterward that pays more for fewer hours. But first she was asked to train the guy who was to take her position. She agreed even though she had a bad feeling about the guy and made sure not to spend any time alone with him.

A few days later she saw him kicking and punching his soon-to-be ex in a public parking lot near the base, then he was screaming and threatening a bunch of coworkers a few days after that. Then a higher-up asks her opinion of the guy, so she gives him her take on the little cock and tells him what she saw.

She left his office with the belief that their discussion would be kept confidential. It wasn’t. The cock started threatening her both on the base and online and that’s why she shut down on Facebook, Ask and other sites. Bad move, in my opinion. She should have A, stood up to the fucking cock, and B, not shut down and sent the wrong message. Bullies like that are like dogs; you run, they chase. They prey on fear. They crave it, they live for it, and I really wish to hell they would go up against the wrong women a little more often and that will happily take them down a peg or two. Do we reach into small spaces in the desert without looking after we were surprised by a rattlesnake biting us? No, we usually think twice the next time around. Well, if God would just direct these assholes to bitches like me more often then maybe they’ll remember that they can’t always threaten or attack someone and not expect to be attacked in return. At least not always. And maybe then the little fuckers won’t want to take chances. But that’s just the thing. These cocks aren’t going to come at bitches like me who they know or at least should be able to sense will fight back. And I have absolutely zero qualms to admitting that if I am ever again threatened, lunged at or struck in any way, I don’t care what color, race, gender or how damn superior and how much of a hold you think you might have on me. I’m fighting back! And if I can’t get you with my fists or feet, I’ll get you with a weapon.

I would prefer not to have anyone make trouble for me in the first place and I’m not the kind to go looking for trouble, but I can’t stress enough just how quick I’ll be to fight back. You can call me every name in the book, but as soon as I hear threats or see you coming at me, my husband or our property, down you go. I’ll gladly go to jail for you even if no one takes assault very seriously. If they did people wouldn’t do time for threats they never wrote while these people get little more than probation and anger management classes thrown at them. Yeah, that’s what this cock got despite all his threats and violence. It infuriates the living hell out of me. A part of me wishes one of these types of cocks would come to my door and say the wrong thing at the same time I hope I’m never forced to take some cock who’s grinning with confidence and turn his “I’m gonna beat your ass, bitch” into “OMG, please, please stop! I’m sorry! I swear, I’m sorry! Oh God, please let me go!”

This has always been a concern of mine too; the thought of some cock (or even a woman) making what amounts to one too many threats causing me to simply pop like a balloon. Just explode like a volcanic mountain erupting. The night I got pissed at yet another plumbing problem in this damn place, did I really go outside after Jesse got here because I was curious as to what the hell was the problem? Or was a part of me, perhaps on a subconscious level, hoping he’d do something to provoke me into going after him and unleashing some of this fury that’s been pent up within me for years for various reasons?

I’m ashamed to say it but it’s true that for many years I turned the other cheek and walked away from things I shouldn’t have and later regretted because it only got me taken more advantage of, thus more abused. In some cases, it was legally, in some cases it was in other ways. I was too chicken for various reasons to fight back until I got older and angrier. Not fighting back has left me feeling both angry and like a coward. It isn’t just about enjoying the look of shock and embarrassment when someone smaller than them turns around and belts them hard enough to make them think twice the next time around. Nor is it just about possibly saving others from being threatened or attacked who won’t fight back. It’s about having self-respect. Maybe it’s just me, and I don’t expect those who haven’t been in my shoes to understand, but why is it I feel that not fighting back was the same as saying it was ok to do what they did to me? Oh, I’d have gone to jail, all right. And they would’ve slapped all kinds of false labels on it rather than called it what it actually was (me defending myself) and God help me even more if the perp wasn’t white, but any time I did in jail would’ve been worth it in the end. Just like some people would die to defend this country, I will go to jail for you if you threaten or attack me. Again, though, if you’re a man or you haven’t been in my shoes, don’t even think of judging me or telling me I’m being “unreasonable.” You can’t possibly know how I feel.

Judges make examples out of some perps by going extra hard on some of them. Well, I wish some women would make examples of themselves. Sitting around feeling sorry for ourselves isn’t going to change things.

Yet those who have threatened me in the past (though I’ll admit there weren’t many) have always had some kind of a hold on me where as much as I may’ve wanted to fight, win or lose, I couldn’t because something more important was in jeopardy. This left me feeling even more like a coward, but when this chick in jail threatened me, I couldn’t “lose it” on her, though I came so incredibly close and it was all I could do to keep from making her just try to put her actions where her mouth was (though she probably could have) because I would’ve been thrown on restriction. That would have meant no visitation or commissary. Well, Tom wasn’t worth throwing away to this bitch and neither were my Milky Ways or more batteries for my radio. Now if I ran into this bitch on the streets where there weren’t any holds on me when she threatened me, that’d be different, though I’d be more likely to go to jail for attacking a woman than a man. A man’s simply going to be too embarrassed and ashamed to admit he took one from a woman. It’d be like my getting my ass beat by someone half my size. You don’t think I’d be embarrassed? Sure I would be, even though I’m smart enough to know that size and gender isn’t what determines a fighter, but rage instead and the will to fight back and defend one’s self.

But that anger lives on. It doesn’t just go away, we don’t just forget and we don’t just “get over it.” That’s why I laugh at these so-called anger management classes they throw these fuckers in. Anger isn’t a choice. None of our emotions are. We can’t trick, manipulate or control our emotions and be reaching into our brains and flicking little switches at will. The only thing that could maybe curb some of the anger is if our perps apologized to us or tried to compensate for their shit somehow, but that’s not going to happen. Therefore we remain angry and it’s not much of a choice. If it were, no one would ever feel negative emotions like anger, sadness and fear unless they had something wrong with them like Rihanna, and yes, sadly there are women who genuinely enjoy being abused by men. Hey, when you don’t fight back AND you stay with the guy, well, I gotta believe you actually get off on it. Mary sure did for a while. But these women aren’t going to stop and admit that every slap, kick and punch turns them on any more than your average cock is going to admit he’s probably a sexual fuck-up in bed and defunct as hell. So I can personally say that anger management classes are a joke. I sat in a cold hard jail cell and took cold showers and ate insanely spicy hotdogs for half a year on account of the very people who made my life a living hell for years after I had something to say about it. Then I went on to lose thousands of dollars and I won’t even get into the amount of stress and anger I experienced. If they think they started off with a pissed-off person, well, after they got done raking the legal coals over my ass, they ended up with someone a hell of a lot angrier and I’m not ashamed to admit it. No “class” can simply diffuse anger and other emotions brought on by such an atrocity. I know justice will never exist in this case. I know they have forever gotten away with it. I know nothing can undo what was done. But I’m never not going to feel a sense of anger over what happened and simply forget about it. A million-dollar check and a public apology in the very paper that libeled the hell out of me could never change that. It would help, but it wouldn’t change or undo what’s already been done. I was eventually vindicated, even though it was 2½ years too late, but the papers weren’t exactly as quick to shout that from the rooftops, were they? “You gotta forgive” people have told me, promising me that I would feel oh so much better in the end. But how? How?

I’m tired of the double standards in the courts as well as the reverse discrimination. Had this cock been a woman going around kicking ass and making threats, she’d have been fired and jailed. I don’t doubt that for a minute.

As I told Aly, I wouldn’t have let the cock drive me offline. That’s what it wants. Instead of running scared, she should get angry and let him come at her with his online threats and taunts and gather more evidence against him, joke of a system or not. If she deletes it then she has nothing to back up her word. Goes to prove that a certain someone from my past was never really scared. No, it was all about hate and anger for them, but never fear cuz if you are genuinely victimized and if you are genuinely scared, you do run and hide. Not throw yourself out there as bait.

I’m just so pissed for Aly! If I were the cock that’s bullying her and I didn’t believe in guardian angels, I would now. That’s because if that had been me he threatened, I’d make it so he NEVER threatened another woman again! So something was looking out for this cock, though he’ll never know it. Ugh, I just fucking hate these low-life cocks and when women don’t stand up to them! Aly said she’s been bullied too much as a kid to take it as an adult, but I just wish more women would do more. Studies have shown time and time again that there is no “stronger” or “weaker” sex any more than there is a dumber or smarter race. The problem is that men tend to have more of a temper than women, thus giving women the false label of being weaker. Just because women would prefer to work problems out with their voices and not their fists, doesn’t mean they’re weaker. Just wish they’d do something. Beat ‘em, shoot ‘em, something. Yes, more women would go to jail in the end, but more of these little shit cocks would be more hesitant to fuck with just anyone. Ok, so some of them still wouldn’t get it. Some of them truly believe they can beat anyone. But how the hell can the number of these types of attacks and threats not go down if more women are serving up a taste of their own medicine? Sometimes two wrongs really can make a right.

On the bright side, sooner or later this cock is going to make the grave mistake of going up against a crazy bitch like me because no matter how good we are at judging and sensing people, we’re not always 100% correct. It really is nice to have guys like Tom in the world cuz most cocks are just a bunch of dumb-ass cowards who think they’re the baddest till they cross the wrong person. I wish there were more Paulas in the world, though Paula tends to beat guys just for the fun of it and that’s wrong. I’ve always been against people being violent toward those who don’t deserve it. Violence should be reserved for those who threaten or attack us or who burn our houses down and shit like that. Still, I’m just tired of seeing human shit like this walk away with little more than a slap on the wrist if even that. Meanwhile, I never touched anyone (our old neighbors) and look what happened to me. Like I said, I hope I will never again meet anyone like this or like this cock Aly’s dealing with, but if I do, I already feel bad for them. I really do.

Ah, that feels better. Not as good as it would feel to see this cock get the beating of his life from his ex or someone else, but writing really is therapeutic. My own perps will never see a day in jail, but they can’t stop me from venting. I just can’t do this one in public cuz I promised Aly I wouldn’t. She says things have died down there a bit while this cock is under strict watch, but she’s still worried. I don’t blame her. With all the trigger-happy psychos you hear of that end up losing it at universities and military bases, it makes me worry, too. I’d like to think the cock would know that harming or killing Aly means going to prison, but some people just don’t give a shit. Some people are actually happier there. I was in jail and not prison, and I was with women of course and not men, but many of them genuinely seemed to enjoy being there and were very happy to be in a place where they didn’t have to pay rent, bills or anything like that and where they could have all their meals (even if dog food would’ve been better) cooked and delivered right to their door.

A part of me wishes women would snap and riot against men like the blacks did during the L.A. Riots. But while the thought of it may be funny as hell, it would be wrong. The blacks not only belittled and degraded themselves by proving to be poor losers acting like spoiled little kids taking a bunch of temper tantrums (though I agree that Rodney King was beaten), but they also took their anger out on innocent people. Many people lost their lives and businesses and were hurt physically and emotionally cuz of their shit. So funny thought or not, I wouldn’t want a bunch of chicks beating up on a guy like Tom simply cuz some shithead beat up on her.

Now the question is should I or shouldn’t I share this with Tom? Well, he’s complained before that too many emails detract from his time spent looking for a place, and I know he’s been tired and overworked a lot lately. He was also never one to handle other people’s stress very well. He’s the type who tends to defend, play down and make excuses for who/whatever you’re angry with and can sometimes make a person feel worse afterward even if he certainly doesn’t mean to, so nah. I’ll share it with just Maliheh. I thought about sharing it with Aly, but I said enough to her about how I felt about the situation and cocks like this, so rather than risk all this writing making her uncomfortable even if I tell her it’s private, I’ll skip sharing it with her. Andy’s trustworthy, but I don’t want him to accidentally slip in public. So it will be for Maliheh and myself. I don’t want to send it to Nane cuz it’s so long, though she’s aware of the situation. Not what happened with Aly but my feelings toward men in general. I just needed to get this off my chest just like Aly needed to get it off hers. Maliheh can be trusted and she’ll understand.

Speaking of Nane, yesterday I watched her view a particular entry – and I know it was her – then turn around and ask me about it in a message. Now why would she ask me about something she just read? To try to throw me off and into thinking it wasn’t her that visited? Most people definitely don’t seem to like knowing you can see their visits. Maliheh was spooked by it, Andy was spooked by it, though he never admitted it, and Christiane denied visiting me altogether.

Later…

I was sitting here thinking about the many injustices of this world and how angry they and the system make me. I can’t right all the wrongs in the world, but what if I could “avenge” some of them? Registered sex offenders who move into the area are required to have their addresses listed online for anyone to see. All one has to do is look up these animals in any given town, city or state. These sick, incurable animals that the courts keep tossing back out at us to harm us over and over and over and over again while they get off on some technicality or because some equally twisted judge feels sorry for them because they may’ve abused as children.

But if the courts won’t do their job, should it fall upon us the people to do it for them? At the same time, these little fucks are blessed with the privilege of residing amongst us, the pigs don’t exactly feel sorry for them should bad things fall upon them.

Well, what if that bad thing was me? Yeah, what if? What if I happened by their house one day? What if they let me in, assuming a woman couldn’t hurt them? What if they were wrong? What if that woman did hurt them and take out or at least disable one more dangerous person and release a lot of anger while she was at it? What if?

howls and squeals with excitement as ideas form in her mind What if for just one night of their lives, they got to feel what their victims felt? What if? What if I let them live so they could suffer with what I did to them during those few hours I toyed and tortured them? What if I left them crying, degraded, and begging for mercy?

The problem? Well, for one I don’t drive. Secondly, Tom certainly wouldn’t approve of it. I also don’t have a weapon for those I may not be able to handle with my hands. Lastly, I wouldn’t have the guts to pull this off even if I could.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 18, 2012 While we sometimes do end up with a pet we’re not too thrilled with and that we thought would be friendlier, it seems that house hunting is like pet hunting. You know it when you’ve found the right one. Well, although that triple-wide has its flaws and may be a bit bigger than we need and would like, I can’t seem to stop thinking about it. We’re still going to talk to people in a couple of weeks just to get a sense of what we may or may not be up against, but based on our calculations and the way they’ve been throwing so much OT at him, we could probably pay off more than half of it in September. Even if the payments were $300 a month after that, that’d be less than two years to have to pay that on top of the lot rent. That’s the only other thing I don’t like is that the lot cost is forever. Then again, it’s not literally “forever.” I can’t say for sure what’s going to happen in 11 years, but I doubt we’ll remain in NorCal forever. I don’t know if it’ll be Spain or Florida that we end up in, but doubt we’ll be here for the rest of our lives. So “forever” would really be a decade.

I really wish they’d do away with central AC/heating and install individual wall heaters and coolers in each room. That way you save energy and money, not heating rooms you don’t use often and things like that. Closing vents doesn’t cut costs; it just cuts down the airflow to a particular room.

Anyway, I can’t help but wonder if someone else will get the house before we get a chance to either hope they drop the price some more or make a play for it. And if we do, will we win it? It would probably be smarter to just forget about it and get a smaller dump on a lot that’s only $450 a month instead of $765. But I’m sick of dumps! Even if there’s money to fix it up, I’m just so sick of dumps. Yet it seems that the usual options in life unless you’re rich are to either get a cheap dump or buy something newer and nicer that may put you at risk or not allow you to save much. But with the triple-wide all paid for, the lot and utilities would be pretty comparable to this place. Here we can save an average of $500 a month and that’s without even trying, so it’s not like we wouldn’t be saving anything at all. We are going to start actually trying, though, cuz the more down payment, the merrier as it may lower the monthly payments. So no more eating out, expensive groceries or fancy nail polish for a while.

They’re OTing the hell out of him again and he just doesn’t understand why they don’t save themselves money and add a second shift to throw just a few people on. With the way California OT works, they’d save a ton of money that way. Business must be booming if they’ve got that much money to throw away. Hopefully, they won’t run out, like Tom said, for being stupid. Nonetheless, he has to work Saturday and that alone will be over $200 and buy us what will hopefully – hopefully – be the last propane fill-up.

It sure would be nice to see that house in person. A picture doesn’t always speak a thousand words. Still can’t get the house off my mind. It’s sitting there right this very moment totally empty. It’s waiting for its new owners. But who are they?

I wish the nightmares and even the dreams that are just plain old negative overall would stop. Sure I’d rather bad things happen in my dreams than in reality, but I have had dream premonitions before. Enough to rule out any coincidence. So when something broke in here in my last round of dreams (the cooler?) and Jesse said it was going to take him 10 hours to fix it when it was at the end of my day and I was ready to crash, that doesn’t exactly make for happy dreaming.

I also wish that after 3 years of pestering me that Molly would leave me the fuck alone. I still think she’s the one pestering me on Ask lately. Again, she comes to me. I don’t go to her. So if she hates me that much, based on the things she says to me, then why does she bother with me? If she’s going to keep on pestering me, though, can’t she come up with something new other than the usual 3 or 4 things she keeps telling me, like how God would be nicer to me if I were nicer to others? Besides, if this bullshit line were even true, then what about infants that are smothered by their parents? Who were they not nice to? So you see, her sense of logic is a bit twisted when you really think about it.

So much for Mommy and Daddy restricting her online privileges since they don’t seem to get that they have to ground this nut for life if they want to keep her from bothering anyone. Yes, literally for life. No amount of time off is going to change things when she’s suddenly allowed limited online access. Why don’t they get this yet??? Perhaps they just don’t want to.

This is someone who has shown to have an intense, passionate hatred for gays, bisexuals and lesbians. Well, I’ve been attracted to a few men and lots of women, so why would she want to bother with me in that case? I’ve had sex with half a dozen women in my life and sooner or later I’ll probably have sex with more. I just don’t know with who, where, when or how many there’ll be. Meanwhile, my brain is like a slut when it comes to writing the kinds of stories I write. Now why in the world should she bother wasting time with me, an “evil sinner” with a whorebag of a mind??? Really Molly, I am the unhealthiest fixation you could possibly have since you believe your conservative, hateful ways are the only correct and acceptable way to live. So instead of you and your mommy making empty threats to sue me for having the nerve to bitch about your stalkerish ways in my blog, why not actually get a life and get a job for the first time in what, 5 years? Or at least throw yourself in that group home you once mentioned so you can be with other pesky misfits like yourself.

rolls eyes and sighs I was really hoping that since Alison’s the target of her obsession, she would leave me alone since Aly deactivated on Ask, but no such luck so far. So I will only allow anonymous comments there when I think they’re less likely to come around.

I wonder why she hasn’t shown up on my blog, though. That one I just don’t get. She’s still just as obsessed with me, so if she can be curious enough to keep tabs on me on Ask, why not my blog, too? I think she is still reading it regularly but is just disabling cookies to avoid showing up on TIP, thinking it’ll make her look less stalkerish once she crosses the line enough to draw law enforcement’s attention.

looks towards Citrus Heights Hi, house, how you doing out there tonight? Feeling kind of lonely sitting all alone and empty? Aw, someone will come keep you company sooner or later. Us???

Yeah, I know, I know. Wake up and smell the coffee and look around me, right? This is reality. This was what was meant for us.

Good night, house. Sleep well.

TUESDAY, JULY 17, 2012 Just had a bit of a chilling thought pertaining to a damn good cyber friend of mine that I’ve known for about 4 years now. Let’s just say that something happened that got me thinking. How well do we know our friends? How well do we really, really know them?

And who are we to say for sure just who’s on the other end of the computer? When we open ourselves to anonymous comments and questions on sites we can’t track, who can know for sure just who’s on the other side of the computer? Maybe – just maybe – it’s someone we least expect. Hell, I didn’t expect Kim was pulling the shit she was pulling on me despite knowing she wasn’t all there, and I may never have figured it out had Aly not expressed her own suspicions about the Kimbecile.

Today on Ask I got “bully” and “dont you feel guilty?” I automatically assumed it was Molly. These are her signature questions, so to speak, though I also realized it could be Kim. I’d still be willing to bet on Molly.

But right around the time I got these “questions,” Alison shut down on Ask and sent me an email saying I wouldn’t hear much from her for a while cuz things have gotten really bad for her. She said she wasn’t ready to talk about it. Just that something happened online that scared her (she said it had nothing to do with either troll) and that she would explain more when things calmed down. Meanwhile, she was taking a break from Ask and from being online as much.

I know how frustrating online trolls can be to deal with, but I hope she won’t let them get to her. I also hope she’ll eventually tell me what’s going on. I hate it when people drop hints without telling the whole story! I just hate being left in the dark and curious as hell.

Then I got to thinking about the timing of everything that happened today and while it seems like a seriously far-fetched idea, how well do we really know our friends? I’ve always considered Aly to be one of the smartest, sanest people I know. But what if? What if??? Then I say, nah, she couldn’t be “one of them” could she? God, I hope not! I’d feel even more betrayed than when I learned that after being a friend to my face, Kim was trolling me behind a mask of anonymity. That’s because she and I were even closer and shared so much more with each other. I never considered Kim a true friend in the way I considered Aly a friend. Kim was always just a borderline friend/annoyance in my eyes.

I’d still bet my money on those questions being from Molly, but again, how well do we really know our friends? It’s not something Andy would do. I’ve known the guy all my life. Whenever he plays with me he eventually lets me know it’s him. Whoever this really is, it isn’t Andy. Oh, how I would love to be able to track Ask! But that’s where the trolls go; where they know they can hide. Even if some of them make themselves obvious at times. I doubt it could be anyone else I’m close to in the U.S. or anyone in Europe. It just doesn’t seem like the type of thing they’d do… even if we can never truly know our own friends.

A group of women was bitching on Nane’s wall about how chilly it’s been lately in Germany. I said that they should come here and Christiane replied with: I’d like to come very much.

It was all I could do to keep from adding, “Would you be jealous, Nane?” LMAO!

In private, since Nane might see her as “competition” of sorts even though she’d probably never admit it, I told her that if all goes well we should be open to visitors in a few months once we have more space.

What do I like best about German ladies? They’re so tall. :) Tall, dark and lovely or not, Christiane’s always been a nice person, so why not stop by and see me when and if she visits the area? Well, because only the ugly ones would prefer to visit, that’s why.

6 pounds of muscle has now been flushed down the toilet. You definitely don’t want to build tons of muscle unless you have no body fat. Building muscle when you’re fat only makes you look and feel fatter. Oh, you could see some of the muscle through the fat, alright, but I hated being bulked out like that and not being as flexible.

In other news, thank God the dream premonitions have stopped. Sure seem to have anyway. It’s been a long time since I had one so hopefully, my dream that we were right back in the situation we were in last fall was just a nightmare and nothing more. Tom assured me it was and that it would take years to end up that way with all we’ve got saved. Well, I don’t know about that, but while the economy isn’t exactly booming, it should take even an older whitey less than 6 months to get a job these days and he’d still get unemployment for a while, too.

Mary’s release date is now pulled up to August 29th. Damn! I can just imagine the excitement she must be feeling. I just hope she isn’t going to live with any of the losers that helped put her where she’s been for the last 12 years.

MONDAY, JULY 16, 2012 I noticed a checkmark next to Nane’s message when she picked it up, then an arrow appeared. So maybe Maliheh really did pick up my message. She probably did as it makes no sense to just ignore it.

Nane had me laughing my ass off when she said that while the house I showed her looked nice, she said it looked like it was made of spit and glue. LOL! She never understood why American homes weren’t built tougher since we have our share of natural disasters here, but as I told her, even homes built to hurricane standards in Florida sometimes get taken out, and we’re pretty safe from earthquakes and other things here except for wildfires.

My weight’s been dropping like a rock since I stopped lifting and am now just sticking to running. I swear my arms are half the size they were a few days ago. I’m also dieting a little more seriously, too. It is so hard! I could eat the entire jar of Nutella straight out of the jar.

Lady Di shut down on Ask and Facebook. I guess she got sick of being harassed, though I don’t know why people picked on her so badly. I don’t think I ever saw anyone get so much shit dished at them online like she did. She probably just temporarily deactivated and will be back soon enough, though, after she’s taken a break.

Andy’s answer to Molly’s, “Why is Jodi ignoring me?” was so fucking funny, and yes, I know it was her. She makes herself rather obvious just like Kim does. Anyway, he answered with, “Because you left her hairbrush out in the sun.”

I was reading back on some of the shit I pulled in my 20s and forgot all about “Kevin H.” I not only billed calls to celebrities, but it seems I also had TV characters subpoenaed as well, LOL. In the last apartment I would ever have in Springfield, MA, Andy and I were discussing what name I should get the phone in since I was such a prankster in those days and he suggested Kevin H, a character on the Twin Peaks TV series. So he got the phone in that name since I couldn’t make myself sound like a guy when calling the phone company. The best I could do was two separate female voices. That was a few years prior to that when I was a young American female and an older English female at the same time but in a different situation. It worked, too! Anyway, being the idiot I was at the time, I got caught making prank phone calls. Only Kevin H got the subpoena and I never had to go to court! My heartfelt thanks, even after all these years, to the creator of that TV series. :)

While the Kevin H thing may be funny, the “stolen books” appearing on our credit report isn’t. I haven’t ordered introductory books and then failed to buy the required 8 or 10 books or so over the following 2 or 3 years since Phoenix! So how can it say I did this in 2010??? And where are all these books I supposedly stole??? Somebody’s fucking around somewhere and they should remember that I may not always have much muscle and I may not be very tall, but I ALWAYS have the temper from hell!!!

The overall report isn’t as bad as we thought it was, even though the two things that are on it are bullshit.

Later…

Still not sure what would be better to aim for, old and cheaper or new and costlier. Thanks to the bastard above who saw fit to curse me with a sleep disorder that would forever guarantee us two people lived on one income, it’s not like we could get just anything. Then again, it’s also not like we couldn’t get something newer and nicer and not still be able to save money. But we’d rather save close to a grand a month as opposed to just a few hundred.

Money has become much more important to me than objects after the hell we went through. So knowing the importance of money and how things could go wrong for anyone, anywhere at any given time, and seeing that I’m used to living in old dumps anyway, we should probably go for something cheap and old. It would still be better than this because it would not only be bigger and ours, but where people are hopefully made to control their dogs. It really pissed me the fuck off to hear the dogs start barking on a Monday night of all nights. I don’t know where the damn cock went, but knowing he could be out anywhere from a few minutes to all night long, I threw the sound machines on.

If we can’t escape barking in an adult community, where can we escape it??? Most have pet restrictions but so far all I’ve seen those restrictions entail is the size and the number of pets. Nothing that says you can’t toss them outside and leave them there.

You can take out a 10 and even 20-year lease that locks in the cost of the lot pretty much for the rest of your life, but again, as much as I’d love to live in something newer and nicer, we could lose it all if they laid him off. Haven’t we lost enough already? I just hate to settle (within reason) and move from one dump to another even if it may be ours, super cheap, bigger, and easy enough to fix up.

I almost want to scream when I hear 20-somethings bitch about their dishwasher or garbage disposal not working right. Well, guess what, kiddies? I’m twice your age, maybe more, and I don’t even have those little luxuries in life to complain about! Some people don’t realize how good they’ve got it till they’re reduced to such poverty and bummery as a trashy old trailer. Now that’s fucking degrading and embarrassing in some ways! Even when you know it’s not your fault and you’ve worked just as hard as others, it still has a way of really pissing the shit out of someone when you know you deserve better in life. But I didn’t ask to be born cursed with a sleep disorder any more than I asked for a lot of other shit to happen to me, and my husband didn’t ask to make a 28-month career of out unemployment. So sometimes things really are beyond our control and all we can do is make the best of it even if it’s not always easy.

There are other obstacles we may be up against too, like our lack of rent receipts. We have nothing to prove we’ve been paying rent anywhere because Jesse asked us to start paying him in cash a while back so he could hide this extra income from the Disability people he was trying to get benefits from. This was on account of a bad back that really doesn’t seem to be all that bad considering how often I see and hear him working outdoors. Hopefully, we won’t need to use him as a reference so long as we don’t take out a loan. I asked Tom why they couldn’t just call him and have him tell them we’ve lived here and rented from him, but as he said, anyone can ask anyone to say that. They want to see things on paper, not hear them from people’s mouths.

These are the kinds of things that make me wonder if our lovely God lined things up this way. Did He time Jesse’s asking us to pay him in cash with us deciding to try to buy a place? As funny as it may sound, though, buying a place, especially if it’s outright or financed through a park or an individual instead of a realtor, may actually be easier than renting. Well, so long as it wasn’t a dumpy old apartment and we certainly don’t want that. I’d still prefer the dumpy trailer to that any day!

The propane tank is down just under 20% so it looks like we’re going to have to order up another round, most of which might be left over for the next people. Why oh why must things always take longer than anticipated?

SUNDAY, JULY 15, 2012 Weird just got weirder. I don’t get it. Maliheh’s changed her profile and cover photo, but my message to her is still showing up as unread. Is she ignoring it for a reason? Or is Facebook just messed up again? It just seems weird that one would change their pictures but not pick up their messages.

People are quick to be so thankful to God and to want to praise Him when good things happen, and that’s fine, but why are they hesitant to cuss Him out when bad things happen? Huh? How come He’s supposedly only responsible for the good and worthy of praise, but never responsible for the bad? Why do people “let Him off the hook,” so to speak when the shit hits the fan in our lives? Even if people aren’t comfortable with literally cussing him out, why not at least a good scolding?

Why do many give God credit where it isn’t due? God didn’t make me good with languages, I did. I did through years and years of study.

“You must be so grateful to God for the way things are going so well for you guys,” some people have said. I am, but let me point out that that same God nearly led us to our deaths last fall. Maybe there’s a God and a devil and sometimes the devil’s more powerful than God, which would mean God’s not the most powerful being in the universe most people seem to think He is. But if God and the devil are one and the same, then He’s just as responsible for allowing bad things to come our way as He is for good things. So again my question is, why don’t we hold him responsible for His part, so to speak, and let him have it when times get rough as well as praise Him when good things happen? Just wondering this is all.

Until God either had a change of heart or something more powerful like a guardian angel or our deceased loved ones stepped in and overthrew God, God toyed with our survival as if it was a fucking game that was funny as hell. And for that, I will never forgive Him. I don’t think I ever could even if I wanted to. Don’t get me wrong. I’m just as grateful for the good that’s come our way as I am angry for the past, but angry I am! Really, there’s just as much anger and hatred as there is gratitude and relief, cuz guess what? We didn’t think it was funny!

Later…

The meltdown of my muscles has begun and no, I will never do bodybuilding again! Fortunately, they start breaking down just 48 hours after your last workout. I’ll still walk and run, but no more hardcore lifting. I just hate the way the excess muscle bulks me out and cuts down my flexibility. So I stopped lifting a few days ago and my weight is dropping like a rock. I’m already much more flexible, too. I’ll just do a few ab crunches a day and that’s about it. I’ll focus mainly on cardio and not strength training.

Next, it’s on to decide if I should cut my nails off or not. They look really cool, but they really are a pain in the ass and I don’t expect them to get much longer.

I’m seeing more traces of Molly online these days and I don’t like it one bit at all. It tells me the parents are loosening their control on the sicko and that means we can expect more harassment from her soon enough. She hasn’t peeked in on my blog much lately, but I know it’s only a matter of time before there are dozens of views a day. Since I’ve got her blocked on Ask and her only choice was to ask me anonymously, I got, “Why is everyone so mean to me?” Aly got similar questions at the time as well, so it’s obvious that it’s her. That’s totally Molly’s type of “question” so she may as well sign her name to it. Anyway, I decided not to indulge in her childish shit and just deleted it.

Molly’s a sneaky little bitch, but I’m just as sneaky, hee hee. She changed her u/n on Ask so she would come unblocked and therefore able to “like” one of my answers. But I blocked her again and that automatically unliked her like. :)

I’m really surprised she doesn’t check out my blog more often unless she’s doing it in a way I’m unaware of.

Aly had me laughing my ass off the other day when we were talking about what lousy pics Kim takes. She said, “I’m no beauty queen and I know it sounds mean, but I always thought that if you added a trunk to her face she’d look like an elephant.” LMAO, that is sooo true! Funny-mean or not, it’s so true. She’s not just ugly but she’s HUGE. She’s got to be 250 pounds at the very least. I once asked her her height but didn’t get a straight answer on that one. This was before I knew what a contradictory liar she was anyway. She’s answered tall at times on Ask, then short. She claims to know Spanish, and then later says she wants to learn it. She always says she’s got blond hair too, yet clearly it’s brown.

The elephant actually surprised Aly by admitting to asking some of the crazy/mean questions on Ask, Aly told me, but another friend of hers also fessed up to some of them. I can pretty much tell who’s asking what. They make it rather obvious. The dumber and crazier they are, the more they give themselves away.

As I told Aly, who admits Kim still lies and uses her, I don’t see how she can hang onto the Kimbecile after all she’s done or even care that she doesn’t have any other friends. She doesn’t have other friends for a reason. I know I sure as hell wouldn’t care who else someone may or may not have for friends if they treated me the way she did. Maybe no friends is just what she deserves. Maybe then she’ll learn to treat people the same to their faces as well as anonymously. This isn’t “normal” playing around like she and I sometimes do to each other.

SATURDAY, JULY 14, 2012 Strange how Maliheh hasn’t picked up the message I left her yesterday afternoon on Facebook. Is she just busy? Not in the mood? Sick? Dealing with naughty blacks who like to terrorize anyone that dares to make perfectly reasonable requests of them like keeping their damn racket to themselves?

Waking up to forty-fucking-two messages on MO wasn’t exactly a thrilling thing to do. I figured it was either trolls or spam, but most likely spam and I was right. Some shithead in Ghana left spam on nearly a third of my fucking blog

Why are some sites more susceptible to spam than others? Thanks to this fucker and a growing number of them on MO, I’ve had to disable anonymous commenting. Once is bad enough, but to have to take the time to go around and delete dozens of these same “comments” gets old. Sorry to those who received auto-alerts when commented after on account of this shithead.

Wish MO would also allow us to block friend requests!

And who the hell had nursing training info sent to me via postal mail? Tammy? I just wonder this cuz A, one of her mistakes got into nursing training, and B, she knows I was hesitant to give her my address for fear of her abusing it. Whoever it was, I’ll stick to writing. I prefer my line of work not to include piss, puke, poop, blood and needles unless it’s part of a story I’m writing.

In Citrus Heights there’s a 1981 3-bed, 2-bath triple-wide for 10K (the lot is $765 a month). It’s 1870 square feet and in an ideal location cuz it’s at the end of a cul de sac and no one parks alongside the place. It doesn’t have a garage, though, and has its pros and cons as with any place. It’d be 12 miles to and from work. Here it’s 18 miles.

But why do I have a feeling this is just a dream just like the “octangle” house in Roseville? Oh, maybe because something up there doesn’t like to see us get what we really want. So it’s either settle or stay here longer to save for what we want. sighs This may not be the worst place to be and the dogs may not bark every day, but man do I get sick of being so cramped in here! I’m constantly bumping and banging myself trying to make the bed in such a tiny space and other things. I can’t imagine a huge person living here. They’d be lucky enough to fit through the hallway and bedroom doorway. I can’t wait to not have to move 20 things just to get to 1. I can’t wait to be able to walk up to a full-size washer that’s always hooked up and ready to go and be able to do things like my comforter anytime I want to. I can’t wait to have a dryer instead of having to hang things. Clothes come out so much softer in the dryer. Fabric softener helps keep hang-dried clothes from being overly stiff, but still, just to be able to have a normal washer and dryer setup would be so nice!

So far this house in Roseville with an octangle-shaped bathroom window and garage and the Citrus Heights triple-wide, are the best two we’ve seen so far as park places go where you always rent the spot it’s on even after the thing is paid for. Again, though, the problem isn’t the down payment or affording the monthly lot fees, it’s paying off the house on top of all these things. Especially if it’s thousands a month till it’s all paid for. But with our bad credit, it’s unlikely we could get a loan or anyone willing to work with us. Not a realtor, that is, which is who’s selling the triple-wide. The octangle house may be through the park itself, but we can’t tell that from just looking online. If it were financed through the park that may make it easier for us. Right now, due to the way the checks fall and his getting paid every other week, we have enough for a down payment, but not enough for food, gas, closing costs, and other initial fees. So we won’t know much more till next month. Until we’re in a position to talk to people, we won’t know what’s the best deal for us.

There are also other types of parks to consider like that one where everyone owns a percentage of it, plus another where you own the land it’s on. This way the payments are either super low or nothing at all after the place is paid for. It’s just that these places are usually tiny dumps or super ritzy.

If worse comes to worst and we can’t get what we want, we’ll then have to decide if we want to pay off the $400 or so in bullshit “bills,” and settle for something that’s borderline (meaning it’s cheap enough that we could afford to make it what we wanted, or stay here and save more money). I can tell you right now that staying here won’t be our first choice. So it looks like we’ll still be out of here sometime this year. Just don’t know when or where to. There are so many options and so much more research to do.

Tom figured out why so many cars were parked in the driveways of that place in Roseville; because the garages are too short for many of these newer cars, and Andy figured out that “chirping” sound we heard at IHOP. It was the low battery indicator on the smoke detector.

Decided to put up the new shower curtain even though the butterfly curtain wasn’t in bad shape or anything like that. It’s just that from the looks of things, chances are we’ll have shower doors in the next place. So I figured that even if we’re only here a few more months, why not enjoy our new colorful neon curtain until then? It’s gorgeous! Love the new metal hooks I also got that you just hang it on, instead of those tough-to-use brittle snap-hooks that break so easily.

Some people worry that when I bitch about certain things like some personality traits I dislike in others and when I promised to dump the next person to betray me in certain ways that it’s directed at them. It’s not! I just wanted to set the record straight on that one. If I have a problem with you I promise I’ll let you know it. Anyone who knows me well enough knows I’m very outspoken and not afraid to say what’s on my mind. If you upset me in any way, you’ll be the first to know it. You can count on it. :)

I’ve always been one who likes to not only write down what’s going on but also random thoughts, plans and desires that don’t necessarily have anything to do with what’s going on at the moment. I’m just an observant kind of person. I notice things. I feel things. I think things. And I like to express them whether they do or don’t seem to have any sense of order or connection to me or my life.

The other day I said I would dump anyone else who can’t accept my word about whatever, but that was just stating a fact. I wasn’t implying that I’m planning to dump anyone in particular. I’m not. In cases like that, I don’t plan, I just do. So why tell you I’m going to dump you when I can just do it? But I will tell you what offends me and what I don’t consider a true friend. I don’t care if you don’t see God for the evil, cruel, unfair being that I see Him as. I don’t care if you don’t see pink as a lovely color. I don’t care if you think fried chicken sucks. It was never about having a problem with someone disagreeing with me. But when I’m called a liar for disclosing a disorder I may have, or I’m made to feel that my way of doing things is wrong while yours is the only acceptable and correct way, then I have a problem. Especially if it’s done over and over again after I’ve expressed my feelings to you about it.

Anger after the fact won’t cut it with me either, and no, I’m not presently pissed at anyone who later on down the road told me something I said or did pissed them off when they could’ve told me when I supposedly said or did this offense. It’s merely a fact I’m stating and nothing that’s aimed at anyone in particular. I’m not dropping any hints and trying to tell someone something in a roundabout way.

If I say I believe some of my “friends” may not really be true friends if they would leave me to starve on the streets instead of helping me only to end up saying that I just “didn’t try hard enough” after I was dead, that does not mean I’m talking to whoever may be reading this. It’s just a fact same as if I said I was chewing gum right now.

The rich get picked on just like the poor do, only not as badly. Another observation. People have picked on me for my “poorer” moments in life and the dingy little trailer we live in. I, like many others, am often blamed for circumstances beyond our control. If you’re poor it’s automatically assumed it’s your fault, you asked for it, and you must be lazy. Well, either that or a drunken druggie.

But the rich get their share of shit, too. Rich people are automatically assumed to be selfish, stingy, insensitive little snobs who only give a shit about themselves. Sometimes that may be true, especially if they never knew what it was like to struggle, but they still have their own stigmas as well.

Did I settle for Tom and give up on women? Someone asked me this and it was accidentally deleted when trying to get all that spam out of my blog. Definitely didn’t settle for Tom but I did give up on women. You can’t make be what isn’t meant to be, but I believed I was going to be alone because I’m not a settler. So when I met Tom it was an unexpected surprise. I settled a few times when I was young and felt bad for it. Solitude is better than second best. At least to me, it is. But sure enough, once I stopped trying and was taken, out of the woodwork came the women. There were a few in-person I could’ve had just for casuals and almost did have till whatever’s up there that decided it wasn’t meant to be for whatever reason came in and interfered. Either they moved away, I moved away, they were online and too far away, or whatever. It still goes to prove those right who say they come around when you least expect it and when you’re not looking. Seek and you shall not find.

FRIDAY, JULY 13, 2012 It’s been so hot I’ve wished we had a pool! Soon enough we will even if it won’t literally be “ours.” I just don’t know if we’ll have it before it starts cooling down. Then again, it doesn’t cool down till November here and where we’re going is likely to be a little warmer than here.

The house we want most is both in and out of reach. We could make the down payment and we could afford the $800 a month for the lot. That’s not the problem. The problem is that until the place is paid for, things may be a bit tight. We could probably afford the mortgage, assuming they’d let us have the place, but there wouldn’t be much room for savings and that’s how you end up in risky situations. I like how they dropped the price from 42K to 24K, though.

I hope nothing’s wrong with Andy. I haven’t heard much from him. I suppose he’s just busy catching up on work after being on vacation. I hope that’s all it is. He’s usually as free as I am busy on weekends, so if I don’t hear anything over the weekend I’m going to be a bit concerned. Maybe he just met the love of his life. :)

Facebook added a really cool feature. One that MySpace has that I wished for so long Facebook would add and that’s the ability to tell when someone’s read your message that might not have time to reply to it. No more wondering if they got the message or if FB is screwed up.

THURSDAY, JULY 12, 2012 How nice (and a bit surprising) it was to hear from Christiane again. We’ve been talking about various climates and how we both want to live in a tropical climate someday.

I must’ve jinxed myself when I wrote how glad I was that the troll hasn’t been playing peeping Tom on me or pestering me, cuz she was in my blog last night. :( The fact that she landed on a post that starts off welcoming Aly back to MO (remember, Aly’s the root of her obsession) leads me to believe she jumped in from Facebook. I’m not surprised. The nutjob creates new FB accounts faster than we can block them. So for the sake of protecting my friends who she can link to through their comments on my posts, it’s back to friends of friends on Facebook instead of public. I’m not saying she’s going to go back to pestering my friends. But she’s done it many times before so I didn’t think it would hurt to take precautions. I’m not changing settings on any other site, though. Anonymous comments on my blog and Ask are still allowed.

Tom saw a fire that looked like the mountainside was ablaze on his way home from work yesterday. Fortunately, it’s not too close (though it is somewhat close) and we shouldn’t be in danger but man does this place reek of smoke! It’s been that way since last night when the winds picked up. I just hope to hell they get the damn thing under control before it can spread any further! Not even incense is masking the damn smokiness. I haven’t had any nightmares signaling impending danger ahead, so hopefully we’ll be ok.

Tom and I didn’t “go home” last night in my dreams but we did go cruising.

Finally busted a nail when housecleaning yesterday, so I cut that, plus the one next to it that had a snag in it. I almost hacked them all off but decided to wait.

Later…

I can see him. I can see my dad as clearly as if he were here in this room with me even though I haven’t seen him since 1997. The tanned, weathered skin from the Florida sun sprinkled with age spots. The rings and bracelets he regularly wore. His warm smile, gray hair, and the hazel eyes I myself once had till the damn things went green on me in my early 20s.

It still blows my mind at times to know I can never see him again. Never hear his voice. Never receive any cards or notes from him, even though he was like most people and not into writing. I’ll never call him up to share good news with him or cry on his shoulder when times get tough. He is forever gone until and if we meet again in the afterlife that may or may not exist. None of us can know for sure till our own time comes.

The smoke has cleared so I’m assuming either the wind has shifted or they got the fire under control. I’m just glad, whatever the reason.

I chatted with most of my usual online buddies today and hung my wind chimes back up. I kind of missed hearing them, and if we’re not gonna get out of here for a few months since we’re not willing to settle, why miss out on hearing them? Maybe it will help “jinx” speeding up the process a bit, though I’m not really sure we can take them with us. There are several of them and they can get kind of loud. If our next neighbor’s going to be an arm’s length away, they may not appreciate them very much. I don’t know that the park even allows them. Come to think of it I don’t remember seeing them hanging anywhere in any of the places we’ve seen either on or offline. So if we can’t take them we might as well leave them here for the next people to enjoy when the dogs aren’t barking.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 11, 2012 Tom found a site that tells what ages are accepted into the various adult communities. We just learned that one of the ones we recently looked at is all-55 and up. So that rules out the Country Villa. The Diamond K Estates requires just one of you to be 55. This really ideal community that’s too far away requires one to be 55 and the other at least 47. So it varies from community to community. What I don’t like is that all the best deals on both homes for sale and for rent (I’m still open to renting so long as the landlord didn’t live with us and we didn’t have to share the lot with anyone) just happen to be too far away. Why is it I suspect that’s not a coincidence and it’s just something up there working against us as usual?

Another cool setup we discovered is where you don’t continue to pay to rent the lot your home is on after the home is paid for. Instead, everyone who lives there owns the park. You pay 10K for your share of the land, then for your home. After your home is paid for you only pay $397 a month in Homeowner’s Association fees, plus your utilities, of course. Talk about saving money! We’d save over a grand a month that way. jumps for joy at all the nail polish, perfume and lobsters she could get Then if he were laid off before he retires, no problem. With something this cheap I totally wouldn’t mind something that was dumpy on the inside because we’d have plenty of money to make it what we wanted it to be, pink champagne carpet and all. It may be fun, and then we’d get to pick out the exact styles and colors we wanted.

Our best bet, however, is probably going to be finding a park that does its own financing so we don’t have to deal with banks and loans and all that fun stuff. The problem is while there are plenty of them out there, they don’t advertise online. They prefer people to learn of them via word of mouth. So we’re gonna have to get back out there and get the phone numbers off some of those for sale signs we saw, and now we’ll know which places not to waste time on since we can now look up the specific age requirements per park/community.

sighs That’s twice I had to yell up at the fucking mutts to shut the hell up. Really don’t want to have to put the sound machines on now. At any given moment there are dozens of pistols and shotguns within a 1-mile radius of us and hundreds of bullets yet not one of them can make my day by ending up in these mutts’ heads? Then again, why bother? The “lawn ornaments” would just be replaced in a matter of days.

So what was I saying before they interrupted my train of thought? Oh yeah, the phone numbers. We’re going to have to get a hold of those, but in a week or two, we’ll probably enlist the help of a real estate agent who can hopefully point us in the right direction. The only reason we’ve been hesitant to tell them specifically what we want is that they will do what’s best for them and what makes them the most money, and not what’s necessarily the best deal for us. No one truly does for you unless they love you or have a crush on you.

Later…

Andy says he’s been busy and angry (not at me) and Kim is being her usual crazy self. Aly received a “question” on Ask saying: concerned tweeter here ur friend “kimball” no allow anonymous questions no mor so i ask u. y she hav so many profiles? rythemraindrops, russosgirl, wassgurlie, rainrythem, weatherchick101. sur shes got others 2. but she got issues or sumfin cuz iz lyk multiple personality n jus real weird.

I first wondered if it was Kim herself until Aly told me of her reaction when she shared the “question” with her. It doesn’t seem Molly’s style, so as Aly said, it’s probably someone who’s spent an awful lot of time studying Kim’s strange online behavior. Having multiple accounts is one thing, but having multiple accounts with different names and bios is another.

Nonetheless, Kim reacted the way she always does when she’s guilty of something – deny, delete, delude, disappear. This is why I think it may not be her that asked this question. Aly’s going to text her with: If it’s not you behind all these accounts, why did they all suddenly disappear?

LOL, that’ll piss the skitzomaniac off. She also deactivated on Ask cuz of that question. rolls eyes Really, how can anyone be so stupid as to be so obvious like that???

It could also be someone whose native language is Spanish. The way they say “no allow anonymous questions,” well, in Spanish, there is no equivalent for words like don’t and doesn’t. You simply use “no” for those kinds of negatives. Yo no se = I no know. Spanish has fewer sounds and words and many more words tend to have multiple meanings. There is no “it” either. You usually use “is” instead. Es aquí = Is here.

I still can’t believe she two-faced me like she did after I was so nice to her for so long. Yet the whole time she hated my guts and I’ll never know why. Maybe she’s too crazy herself to even know why. It’s just ironic that the harassment stopped as soon as I confronted her, even though she gave me her classic reaction and became very angry, and accusatory and denied it all the way before deactivating and running off. Again, is she crazy? Or is she just so damn unbelievably stupid?

Molly still checks in on Ask periodically to answer questions she asks herself, a few she doesn’t, and to ask Aly a few of her own. Although they’re anonymous, the “how are yous” are just very Mollyish.

What I don’t get is why Molly’s been so well-behaved lately. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. I’m enjoying every single second of it while it lasts. But why hasn’t she shown up on TIP? She wouldn’t be smart enough to blind a tracker. Or would she? Her friend Sarah helped her beat my Tumblr block so you never know. But I don’t see why she’d want to hide from me. That was part of the fun for her; making her presence known to those she knows would rather not have anything to do with her. And why hasn’t she pestered me anonymously on Ask or Facebook?

For now, I’m loving the freedom of not being trolled by this shithead. I can post publically now on Facebook, allow for anonymous comments on my blog and Ask and more. Es ist Wunderbar!

Nane’s brother Toby “liked” one of my funny wall posts. No one enjoys them as much as Marie and Cindy but I’ve been posting half a dozen or so a day. Some of them are quite hilarious.

I chatted with Christiane a bit today too, though all we did was exchange messages. I complimented her new profile and cover photo, saying they were all nice as long as they didn’t have snow in them. She thanked me, then asked, “Why not snow? It can be so nice.”

LOL, not to me!

TUESDAY, JULY 10, 2012 The battle of the bees still wages on and unfortunately, they’re winning. The good news is that where we were at a dollar a bee based on the cost of the trap and how many bees were in it, now we’re down to 50 cents a bee cuz there are about 20 bees in the trap now. Sunrise and sunset are when they’re most active since we’re having triple-digit temps. It’s just that some of them like to stop off and torment me in the bathroom before I give them their final send-off to the pearly gates.

Ok, now listen up, folks! Our internet connection has gotten so bad and no one will help us that I’m seriously contemplating shutting down and just using our cell or the library till we get out of here in the next – IDK – 3 to 6 months based on all the hurdles our lovely God (if there is one) has thrown our way to help hold up the move. I just hate paying full price for part-time service whether we were rich, poor, or in between. I’m going to make a point of being online less often and getting more into my writing because I’m so damn fed up with it being hit or miss when I want to go online. So I’ll basically check for messages when I get up, post journals, and then check in again before bed. I just didn’t want people to think anything was wrong if it ended up taking me a while to get back to them or that I’m ignoring them or anything like that.

Later…

I’m not sure which home calls to me more. Both are doublewides with 2 beds/2 baths, but one’s cheap, ugly and far from work while the other’s more expensive, beautiful and just a couple miles from work.

Tom sent an email asking to see inside that 6K home in W. Sac that looked beautiful on the outside. I would’ve been really damn worried had they not responded, as that’d make the fourth person to blow us off. Something up there is against us enough as it is. Tom said he had no idea our credit was this bad, and while I couldn’t have told him the specifics, I could’ve told him the logistics – nothing up there likes to see me get the things I really, really want in life, and when I do get them it isn’t without a huge fight. So nothing’s going to make it easy for us and pave the way home. We are right where it wants us – in someone else’s bummy old dive. Would we have spent the last 7 years cramped into these places if that wasn’t what was “right” for us and what was “meant to be?” Ah, but bad things do tend to run in 7-year cycles, don’t they? Well, our number’s up this year! It just might take 3-6 months to get over the hurdles currently facing us and it’s not just our credit (or lack of it). Tom hasn’t been at his job for over a year. There are things we can do to boost our credit but it’s not going to happen in 5 minutes.

Anyway, they emailed pictures of the inside of the home and it’s ugly as hell. Not beat up and broken; just downright ugly. The place is not only old but it was never upgraded in any way. It also not only doesn’t have a dishwasher but it doesn’t have a refrigerator either. Still, we could buy it pretty much outright right now if we had to. This is the place we’d save about a grand a month at having to pay just $500 for the lot. So we could remodel the entire place.

But… I’d still prefer to go for the gold, even if it may be forever out of reach, and for one of the nicer places with a garage.

A Facebook friend posted a picture of a billboard in New York suggesting abortion alternatives. She wondered why blacks and Hispanics were the only ones pictured on those types of billboards since whites often struggle with their kids’ expenses as well. Well, since there just seems to be no escaping topics like God and race, she’s right. Whites do struggle with supporting their children as well. But could she perhaps be seeing racism where there isn’t any? I ask this because I think she is on this billboard because non-whites are the new majority in most places these days. In fact, I’m waiting for the moment a white is shown on some kind of billboard and someone cries racism on their behalf. Oh yes, reverse discrimination is alive and well in America today, my friend. In the courts, in the job market, everywhere. It’s real, it’s sad, and it’s unfair. But we also perceive things differently. She sees racism in that billboard, I don’t. Most people don’t take offense to the term Native American, but I do because I was born and raised here. So if I’m not a “Native American,” what am I? These days I think too many people are seeing racism where it’s not and not seeing it where it is.

MONDAY, JULY 9, 2012 Welcome back to MyOpera, Aly! I missed you there.

So what is it with some people? Why is it some don’t mind you hating groups they hate as well, but if you hate a group they don’t hate they’ve got a problem with you? Just something I’ve noticed lately in observing various people interact with each other online.

Reading back on some of my old journals from the '90s, I wonder what I am more, amused or embarrassed. But hey, I guess we’re all silly and naïve when we’re young, right? I just thank God my dreams and goals of today aren’t what they were back then. And I also thank God that the dreams I had either came true or I ended up changing my mind.

Change.

It’s amazing how our beliefs, desires, lifestyles and personalities can change with age, mine probably a little more than average. It seems the only things I’m still into are music, languages and writing, and when it comes to music I prefer to mostly listen these days as opposed to singing. Haven’t touched a musical instrument in years either. But so, so much of what I think, do, feel, believe, like, communicate, dislike, want and don’t want has changed. I still have my evil laugh, I’m still short, and I still love lobster, bright colors and rodents, but it seems so much more has changed than has not. I almost cringe at the thought of reuniting with someone I knew 20 years ago, LOL, for it’s only human nature to see a person as you last knew them to be. Only they wouldn’t be seeing “me” at all.

The fact that I would even bother with people like Fran and “Nervous” goes to show how little self-respect I once had. I would put up with so much abuse from so many people for so long. Being too forgiving can be just as bad as being too non-forgiving. Ah, but I am totally way beyond fed up with the “disbelievers” out there and have totally run out of patience and tolerance for those who can’t trust me enough to take my word for whatever. Those who feel the need to challenge and contradict me with things like, “Yes, you would,” after I’ve answered with a “no” to something they or someone else who may be present asked me really irks the hell out of me. When you do that to someone you’re basically calling them a liar. At my age, I’m getting a little too old to deal with people like that, and again, it’s a matter of respecting myself and knowing there are better things to do than sticking around and explaining or defending my word to whoever. The next person who can’t take me for face value will be forever dumped in a heartbeat with no chance of being forgiven! Why waste time fighting with a bear when you can just shoot it, you know? Really, if you think I’m “joking” or just trying to impress you by saying I’m multilingual or something like that, then I’m not the right friend for you. If you think I’m using my deformed and half-deaf ear as an excuse not to clean the bathroom, go get yourself a friend whose word you feel you can trust.

Later…

I called my mom and was glad to learn she was out of her cast and able to get around unassisted. No crutches or anything like that. She didn’t sound as depressed, but she didn’t sound happy either. She was just there, you know? Like she’s existing but not living. We didn’t have much to say to each other. I just wanted to let her know I was alive and see what was up, though sometimes I wonder why we bother. I mean, I feel sorry for the woman, but at the same time, I don’t. And does she really care about me? IDK, maybe it’s my imagination but sometimes I feel like she’s not happy to hear from me. Not mad or upset, just IDK. I really don’t know. Then again, the woman is 80 years old. Can one really be all that sure of an 80-year-old anymore than they can be sure of themselves?

One minute I’ll remember the physical but mostly emotional pain she caused me and be like, fuck it, and fuck her. Next, I’ll remember the good she’s done me, and Tammy if you see this and you mention this to mom I’ll put a nasty spell on you! I swear I will. I’ll make everything you eat turn into a cucumber for a whole month. Seriously, keep your lips sealed.

Because it’s been so hot lately, the bees are most active when the sun first comes up and when it sets. Right after Tom left for work I looked out and saw 5 newly caught bees buzzing around in the trap. That’s the most I ever saw in there at once! Just when I was thinking we weren’t getting our money’s worth. The trap was about 10 bucks, but there were only about 10 bees in the thing before today. That’s a buck a bee! Kind of a pricy trap.

But then I turned around and there is another one of them fuckers in the bathroom window. So much for spraying under the sink as we did from both inside and outside. Since we could still be here for a few more months, we should probably bomb again. That’ll back them off for a while.

The sad thing is that they can nest anywhere. Literally anywhere. In the ground, in trees, indoors, outdoors, in open spots, enclosed spots – anywhere.

Saw this incredibly cool nail polish at Sephora’s site that has iron particles in it. The cap has a magnet in it and you hold it over the nail and it creates this really cool pattern. They have a fishnet and a wave pattern, but the reviews on the fishnet weren’t good at all, so I’ll eventually try the wave.

What is it with my nail polish obsession lately? LOL, Most women would probably envy how long all my nails are right now. Not daggers but long enough. They’re getting to the point of being a bit annoying when I write, but they feel oh so good when I scratch an itch or my scalp.

I removed the Ice Queen earlier and threw on a coat of the Iceberg Lotus with stripes of Wedding Crashers over it. I don’t usually like dark colors but I really like OPI’s Play Till Midnight. It’s a deep dark satiny blue. I also like Nicole’s Cobalt Purple Passion and then there are a few neons I wouldn’t mind adding to my collection in pink, green and yellow. The one color that I’ve never had that I don’t see myself ever trying is orange, and I definitely won’t touch the gray and olive. Ew! Those two are the ugliest colors in the world!

Really getting worried about my weight. Am I simply not cutting back enough or is something wrong with me? On the one hand, most people are fat so it’s unreasonable to assume something’s wrong with them all, but on the other hand, most don’t bother to cut back and work out either. Yet here I am not just struggling to get weight off, but to keep more from coming on - WTF??? Every few weeks or so I seem to be up a few pounds. How long is this going to go on? Until I hit 150? 200? 250? It’s getting to be a bit of a scary thought.

“I’m the good Bill. I don’t come in the mail, I come in the female.” ~ Bill Clinton.

LMAO!

SUNDAY, JULY 8, 2012 “You’re not going home, Jodi.” That was the message in the reoccurring dream I had for months back in Oregon. The “message” was delivered through half the damn town. I’d pass by Jan at her old store, she’d ask how I was, I’d answer, then she’d say, “I’m sorry, Jodi, but you’re not going home.”

I’d check out at the grocery store and hottie Liz would tell me to have a nice day, then, “You’re not going home, Jodi.”

Then Randy the mailman would bring me my mail, greet me with a friendly nod and smile and say, “Sorry Jodi, but you’re not going home.”

This was just a couple of years after losing our home and land in Arizona and then the land we had planned to build a home on in Oregon. It was also at a time when I was into entering sweepstakes and contests.

In real life, Randy came around shortly after this dream and started off with, “Sorry Jodi.” Just when I went stiff as a board and no doubt pale as a ghost, he said, “But I don’t seem to have any wins for you today.”

Just the way he started off so similar to the dream was one helluva creepy, freaky experience!

Backing up to the series of dreams and what they meant. To me, they represented the obvious; that we wouldn’t be homeowners again anytime soon if ever again. Well, that’s the way it has been ever since we last owned a place in 2004 and that’s the way I thought it would always be. Although it took a little time, I grew accustomed to renting once again for the first time since 1993. I was even ok with it, liking the fact that we didn’t have to pay for anything that broke that wasn’t ours. The management company, although they ripped us off in the end by denying us our deposit despite the fact that we left the place spotless and undamaged, never bothered us. They didn’t show up unannounced on a regular basis and the place didn’t have a million problems despite its age.

Then we came here and things were just the opposite. Our landlord comes down anytime he feels like it, the place has regular problems, and it has made me miss owning a place and being the boss of what happens and when so long as it isn’t urgent. The number of times we’d have to pay to fix things could never compare to how many times I’m either annoyed by the landlord himself, his dogs, or worry that he’s going to wake me up depending on what my schedule is at the moment.

The economy has also knocked what are normally 100K - 200K houses and modulars down to 15K - 100K. For the first time in years, I saw possibilities that just weren’t there before and that I thought never would be there again.

If you read my blog yesterday, you’ll know we went and checked out a rather nice 55+ park. Well, now the question is, was last night’s dream a sign of something good to come, or was it merely a reflection of my wishful thinking? The dream certainly suggests we just may get into this place, but I’d rather not state the name of the estates in public or where it is.

The dream only lasted a few seconds. I asked some woman (someone in the sales office?) about plants, trees, or something to do with landscaping. The only part of her answer I remember was the last few words… “Because of the flower arrangements.”

We also apparently had a bird we kept outdoors because it was rather loud. LOL, nothing we’d ever have in real life. I’m not a bird person anyway. But I asked if we could keep it outside and she said, “Sorry, but you won’t be able to keep anything like that outside here.”

The thing about it is that in the dream I thought to myself that I would miss the bird but would be perfectly ok with giving it up. Like I knew we were going to live there.

Christiane did “poke” me back after all. I was wondering if she would. Thanks, good looking. :)

Later…

The road home has been a long one that has required tons of research and sightseeing. We drove past a senior park here in town and wouldn’t even go into it as we didn’t like how it looked from the road; all dumpy single-wides. We love the idea of saving money, but we want to find something we can live in comfortably for the next 10 years, too. Hopefully, we will be able to find a good balance and get something between dumpy and fancy. I don’t need to have the fanciest place anyway. Just one that isn’t so damn old and ugly.

So we headed into both Rocklin and Roseville. A park we checked out in Rocklin seemed in between the dumpy Auburn park and the nice Roseville park. It was beautiful, but nothing that would take your breath away. I like the Roseville park better as it had wider streets, garages, and a little more breathing space around the homes. The Rocklin park also had modulars and not trailers, but they didn’t have garages and the streets were so narrow it was hard to believe two cars could pass each other on them. It was still very well maintained with beautiful flowers everywhere.

Saw some old folks sitting outside their places, and one guy even said good morning to us as we were slowly cruising by, and you definitely had to go slow. Not only because the roads have many curves and turns, but also because there are speed bumps in the roads. Another thing is that there’s only room for one car to park in the narrow driveways. Forget being set close to the road, these places are practically right on the road. So excessive company would hardly be a worry there since there’s no on-street parking and no place else to park all their company. No room to leave dogs outside regularly either from what I could see. It too, was walled off, so there’d be no outsiders passing through it with blasting car stereos and shit like that.

So then we came home, jumped online and found a place in a park in West Sacramento for just 6K! The catch? Well, it’d be a bit of a drive to work for Tom, and the place, although beautiful looking from the outside, is probably a dump on the inside. Especially since they didn’t show any pictures of the inside other than the living room, and they mentioned it needing some TLC. The thing is estimated to be 30-40 years old. This place is 45 years old. It was well-shaded and appeared to have a little more space around it. Loved the pink flowerbed that ran along the front of it and the bright cheery sunny yellow color of the place itself. We estimate that we could comfortably save nearly a grand a month there, which would allow us to fix the place up, but we don’t exactly want to play fix it and we don’t want Tom to have such a long drive to work, though we also looked at getting a newer car that wouldn’t guzzle as much gas. Either way, it’s there as a possibility, though at that price it may sell fast. They already reduced it from 14K.

There is still so much research to be done as there are so many possibilities, each with its own set of pros and cons. So getting out of here next month is unlikely. It could take till the end of the year, but I’d rather take longer to get it right and make a smart move this time around than act in haste and end up regretting it. We’ve done stupid enough times in the past. Now it’s time to do right.

Been doing quiet, but that’s cuz of the heat. It’s going to be around 100° all week. I was surprised at how hot I felt when we were out this morning yet it wasn’t even that hot yet. Have I really grown that sensitive to heat since leaving the desert? Or am I just that fat?

I was surprised to wake up the same weight as yesterday despite how much I ate yesterday, but I think I might be up tomorrow. I did the math twice and I don’t think I went over 1500 calories today. Still, that’s a little high for a short middle-ager. I should take it down 200-300 cals. I just don’t know if I could stand the hunger and fatigue.

The internet is out (what else is new?) so I’ll have to post this later or tomorrow. What else can I say for now? Well, the best deal we actually saw so far, though only online, was a land/house deal for 74K where they finance it themselves and you don’t have to deal with banks or anything like that. The places were also laid out more like traditional houses, set short side to short side instead of long to long. I like that better as it gives you more space around you, but that also leaves more room for people to get more dogs and leave them outside.

Anyway, the net will probably be out for hours and by then I’ll be in bed, so I’ll just post this in the morning. I really hope we have a better connection wherever we end up! This is getting really ridiculous!

SATURDAY, JULY 7, 2012 I feel so bad for my sister Maria. She’s not my biological sister, but she and I share a special kind of kinship that will forever bond us as sisters, and that was that we were both victims of Valleyhead. The so-called private school for girls that was run more like a prison. Everything we did, said, and ate, along with when was dictated to us, and that’s only the things that were allowed in the first place.

Today Maria is a victim of the economy much like we were. She’s staying with friends and while no one has asked her to leave, she’s only got a couple of weeks left of unemployment. After putting in zillions of applications only to be denied a lousy job, she’s about to journey elsewhere in hopes of someone allowing her to work. It’s not only tough to find work when you’re older, but when you’re female and white. These days it’s the so-called “minorities” that get first dibs on life’s opportunities. Like it or not, unfair or not, the young, male non-white is considered today’s favorite in society. This is why I damn near want to scream every time I hear them bitch about how rough they think they still have it in today’s world.

As Maria herself said, though, she’s teachable. She’s able-bodied, willing and ready. But the color of her skin and the date on her birth certificate has apparently held her back right along with her body parts. It’s sad. It really is. But it’s not only sad, it’s sick. Had I been magically cured of my sleep disorder and able to start job-hunting right along with Tom back when he was looking, I don’t doubt that I’d still be hunting today.

Anyway, my heart goes out to you, dear sis. I hope that someone somewhere soon enough will see past your age, color and gender and give you the chance you so richly deserve. I know you too, have nothing against the young and the not-so-white but are sick of the unfair treatment going on in order to “avenge” the past.

Later…

Tom’s in the shower now, then we’re FINALLY off to the IHOP, then to Walmart.

Except for a few yips and power tools that fortunately can only be heard outdoors, all’s been pretty quiet. It usually is quieter here in the summer anyway thanks to the heat. Wish it could be hot and dry all year long. Then all I would miss would be the rain.

I would have been down another pound for sure. No doubt about it. But with the combination of eating my last meal too early and being up for 18 hours, I had an extra 500 calories yesterday. I’m lucky I’m only up two-tenths of a pound and no more. I’m taking today off from the treadmill and the diet, though, like I usually do on Saturdays. Hey, IHOP alone is going to be like two days’ worth of food!

Later…

After a busy morning, I’m now kicking back and relaxing along with Tom. I probably won’t be online anymore today after I post this. Breakfast at the IHOP was great, although there was something making this strange sound every few minutes or so the entire time we were there. I’m not sure what it was. It was sort of in between a squeak and a chirp, like on someone’s gadget or something. It wasn’t that annoying, though, as opposed to screaming kids, but we were fortunate enough not to have to deal with any of those.

I was going to get a pitcher like the one on my desk to keep in the refrigerator so I could have a cold drink of water after my workouts. These pitchers hold about 4 cups. But then I saw these beverage dispensers that hold 6 cups and decided to keep that on my desk instead and throw the pitcher I had in the fridge.

I read online that nail polish remover with acetone was better for removing glitter nail polish, so I grabbed a jar of it, thinking it was like my non-acetone remover that had a sponge in it. This one’s so cool because you stick your finger in the center of it instead and there’s a little brush that helps scrape off the old polish. It still takes a little longer than removing non-glitter polish, but not as long as it used to when using cotton balls on even the non-glitter stuff. My fingers are a bit short and skinny, though.

Naturally, I couldn’t resist grabbing a bottle of Ice Queen to add to my ever-growing collection of nail polish. It’s just ok, though, and actually looks better in the bottle. It has different grades of glitter in it. The really fine kind I like best, plus some bigger pieces in the shape of a circle. The bigger pieces are hard to get on cuz the brush tends to pull them back off as you apply it. Every single one of my nails is long right now. Once they start interfering with my typing, I cut them. A week later they’re long again, though, LOL.

I also got that purple eyeliner with the pink glitter covering half the pencil.

Someone asked me “wherez your buddy Andy?!” on Ask and my first thought was Aly, Kim or Molly. I asked Aly on Facebook if it was her as she sometimes asks questions when she’s at work and doesn’t want to sign in. She said no, but wondered if it could be Kim because she asked her about Andy a couple of weeks ago. I guess the little skitzo thought that maybe he was harassing her or something, though I highly doubt he was.

As for Molly, last she heard was that her parents were keeping such tight strings on her that she was only allowed online a few hours a week. Yeah, I knew she didn’t just suddenly get sick of us after all these years. Thank God those damn parents are finally doing something about that fucking nut instead of making lame excuses for her and blaming her actions on everyone else. Sooner or later, though, the parents are going to think a miracle has entered their home and their lives and blessed their crazy daughter with a dose of sanity and forget the fact that the crazy don’t get uncrazied. Not by pills, not by outer forces, not by themselves, not by anyone giving them a pep talk, not by anything. Once crazy, always crazy. So knowing that the crazy stay crazy, I know I can count on her returning with a vengeance someday. Only difference is that next time around I will not allow her to drive me into hiding or to change my online habits. She will not steal my fun and ruin it for others as well! Sie wird nicht! Nein, sie wird nicht! But I will continue to hide my friend lists on Facebook and MO.

Although we plan to do more touring of adult communities tomorrow, we drove through a rather high-end 55+ park. It’s a beautiful gated community with a pool, a clubhouse and more. The cool thing is that they have no old dumpy, single-wide trailers there. They’re all doublewide modulars with garages. It wasn’t the most breathtaking place I’ve ever seen, but it was still very nice. It reminded me of an adult community my folks once lived in. The only thing this place didn’t have that their park had was more palm trees and the ocean. After a handful of years, they headed inland for fear of hurricanes, though remained fairly close to the coast.

But Jodi’s not allowed to have it as fine as her mommy and daddy had it, so even though we saw some promising signs there, I still have my doubts that we could get the financing necessary to get a place there since our credit isn’t that good. I went to their website when we got home and they mention helping those with lower credit scores get financing in months instead of years and all that, but I’m not going to get my hopes up. Not after living in little old dumps for so long because the longer we live in them the more they were obviously meant to be, whether we deserve it or not, right?

Someone once told me, “Always think negative. If you think positive and things don’t go your way, the harder it will hit you than if you thought negative and didn’t expect things to go your way in the first place. But if they do go well after you thought negative, that’s all the more delightfully surprised you’ll be.”

Well, there’s no need to literally get all negative cuz I know we’ll get in somewhere sooner or later. We’ll just have to do some settling, but isn’t that what life is about for most people anyway? But I’m definitely not going to get my hopes up for any of the nicer places either. I don’t think we’ll have to settle for another single-wide, but I think that the doublewide we end up with probably won’t be all that nice. But if it’s ours and the people can be civilized, control their dogs and not live outside so damn much of the time, that’ll make it well worth it. I just miss being the boss of our own place.

I like how there was a sign at the entrance saying No Soliciting. Back in the city, I used to hate it when perfect strangers would come to our door on sales or religious calls. The Avon lady, the Girl Scout cookie sellers, the Mormons wanting me to join their hate campaign…

We saw 4-5 houses for sale (their site says they have 12, ranging from 24K - 118K) and Tom said that makes him think we have a better chance of getting financing, along with the fact that there were several cars parked outside the garages, a sign that some people living there are still working which would mean they wouldn’t mind me being under 55. Usually only one of you has to be 55 and the other has to be at least 45, so that’s the least of my worries. Besides, most people don’t retire at 55 anyway. I’m sure God would make sure we got the home-all-the-time neighbors, though that might be better than working ones. Ones who are home a lot may have more company, but if they work all day, chances are they’ll throw their dogs outside for me to have to listen to. If they’re home, though, they may at least let them indoors some of the time. I find it hard to believe anyone in California would dare let their dogs remain indoors all day long while they worked, and unfortunately, it’s when a dog’s owner is away from home or is tossed outside when company arrives that’s most likely to get a dog going.

I was a bit surprised at how many cars I saw parked outside some of the garages. One driveway had 3 cars in it, and one was clearly a business vehicle of some kind. Not sure I’d want that much traffic coming and going so close to me, and again, the houses are a bit close and close to the roads as well, but there’s no way we’d have to worry about kids skateboarding and playing basketball on the streets or loud car stereos passing through since there’d be nowhere to go in a gated community, and you can only have two small pets per household. Unfortunately, I didn’t see anything that said you couldn’t leave them outside 24/7, so other than barking and car door slamming, I think it would be a pretty peaceful place to live. I just don’t think we could get in in just a few months.

FRIDAY, JULY 6, 2012 I’m looking so forward to the weekend and all we’ve got planned. I should have more to write about soon enough. I’d love to write now. It’s just that I’m exhausted and struggling to keep my eyes open.

So, not much more to say before I go to bed and hopefully get more moving signs from my dreams. Just that I fucked up on my diet today, but oh well.

THURSDAY, JULY 5, 2012 “Do you believe the Adam and Eve story?” someone asked me.

I don’t. How would you explain black, Asian, Indian and Hispanic people if we started with just these two white people? I think we started with a lot more than just two people which evolved from a lot more than just two apes.

Had another bathroom bee in here the day before yesterday. They’ve got to be coming from up under the sink. I sprayed the hell out of that area, but if they keep showing up we’re going to bomb again.

For just $20 we ordered replacement foam for my expensive Bose headphones. The originals held up for 4 years, so that’s not bad at all.

The more muscle I build that I can both see and feel, the more I want to build. I also want to lose more fat to show them off even more. The new eating intervals are working out, but I don’t know that I can lose a significant amount of weight this way because my calorie count may still be a bit high. At my height and age, 1500 is fine for maintaining so long as I exercise, but I may have to drop 2-3 hundred more to lose.

I only remember one dream and it’s nothing useful as far as possible moving information goes. We lived in an old two-story and had 3 rats. Well, I don’t know for sure that the place was old, but it was definitely two stories. We had a hooded rat like Ratsy was, a brown rat and a white rat. The rats were upstairs and I thought that it would be a good time to let them run around loose downstairs for fun and exercise. The Ratsy rat tried to nip me when I woke him up, but I knew he would try so I was ready for him. Then I looked down the stairs and saw the brown one was already down there. So I called to the white one who came running to me right away. A second later I was downstairs dropping lettuce on the kitchen floor for them.

I think there might’ve been one other dream where Andy and I lived just a short walking distance from each other, though I don’t know where.

I usually make two posts per day, but as you know, our Internet connection has been horrible. For some reason, though, it’s more stable during the daytime.

WEDNESDAY, JULY 4, 2012 Christiane has been ignoring me since I asked if she were my “pretty lady” commenter, so fine, I get the message, LOL. I will buzz off.

Again, if Aira wasn’t 300 pounds and Lori wasn’t so damn ugly, would I get so much attention from them? Would I still hear from them as much if they suddenly looked like a couple of German hotties I know? I know I said I shouldn’t take it personally as these things will reach out to anyone, but they say we subconsciously go for what we perceive to be our equals. So in other words I’m fat, ugly and not all there, right?

On the flip side, the uglies tend to be a helluva lot nicer than the hotties, though I don’t know why. I never could figure out the connection there, but that’s just the way it usually is. Hotties = bitches, uglies = sweeties.

Regardless of Lori’s looks and state of mind, she pesters me to join groups she knows I don’t want to join (I’m simply not the group kind of gal), and she posts conversations to my wall that have nothing to do with me, like her and Cindy’s discussion about their weather. Well, she’s in Virginia and Cindy’s in New England. Am I missing something there, LOL? I asked why it was posted on my wall, so we’ll see. I could always hide any unwanted posts, but it’s not hurting anything.

Speaking of my own extra pounds, a few have come off, though it’s probably mostly water at this time. I had an idea to try pushing most of my food out toward the end of my day. I have a set menu that I try to follow during the week. The later into my day it gets, the hungrier I get. So instead of spacing my food out at even 2-hour intervals, I’m trying to start off with 3-hour intervals so I can eat more once I’ve been up 12-14 hours.

Fireworks just scared the shit out of me for a second there. I forgot about those. It’s a good thing I’m up now. It literally sounded like someone was knocking on the wall of the trailer since they’re actually way off in the distance.

I never get headaches. Well, almost never. Yet I have a slight feeling of pressure in my forehead sort of between my eyes. I guess it’s sinus pressure, though my allergies have been stable.

There goes more firecrackers as well as Jesse on the motorcycle. This is the latest I think I’ve heard him leave on that thing. I turned on the sound machines as soon as I heard him, knowing the dogs would go crazy unless his kid or someone else was up there, which I doubt.

Polished my toenails 5 different colors. The big toes are light blue, then candy apple red, black, turquoise and magenta.

I dreamt I was looking forward to meeting my friend Adonis. But the funny thing was that in the dream I was thinking about how he was just up north of me. An indication we may make it to Spain someday? Really wish I’d get more indicators of where we’re moving to and when, but that’s the thing with dream premonitions. You can’t always know you’ve had one till what you dreamt becomes a reality. All I’ve “seen” so far are the colors blue and tan, driveway to the right, an orange tree in back, and the house number having 2 or 3, but probably 3 digits in it.

Since it’s so hard to get online between midnight and 6am, I’m going to make a point of working out and reading during those hours.

sighs Looks like there’s already no service. They’ve been turning us off earlier and earlier each night. I’ll get this posted as soon as I can.

TUESDAY, JULY 3, 2012 The cutting in and out of the Internet connection is driving me absolutely insane! It’s gotten so that I don’t want to be online but I also miss it, too. I miss being able to watch movies without them cutting out or taking forfuckingever to buffer. There are so many things I’d like to do but instead, I’m forced to mostly write, read, listen to music, work out and just wait till we’re out of here. But how many more fucking days am I going to have to deal with this shit?! And how many more weekends of barking?! Well, I may only be going to listen to someone else’s dogs when we move, but at least we’ll have a better Internet connection.

There are now 9 bees in the trap, so that’s 9 fewer bees that could’ve ended up in here. I actually saw one fly into the thing just before 7am.

Decided to go to the IHOP on Saturday instead as soon as it opens, then hit Walmart from there. I like to be present whenever possible for grocery runs. Not just to get out but because it seems to be hit or miss as to whether or not they have what I put on the list. That way I can decide what to substitute these things with.

Sunday is 55+ community stakeout day. Tom said that although he’s reluctant he might take me to the nicest place he’s seen so far on his way to work that he says is really, really nice. He says I won’t want to live anywhere else if I see it. But why see what we can’t have? I know I’ll never have it as fine as mommy and daddy got to have it. So why bother? The most important thing is not giving God a chance to screw us again financially. He wants to see us lose. He wants to see us suffer. So if we give Him, or whatever the hell is up there that would prefer to see us struggle most of our lives, a chance to beat us over the head with money, it will. Create weak links when chaining the areas you tend to be cursed in, and they will be broken for sure! I worry enough about our money being stolen, so we don’t need to make stupid investment decisions on top of it. Tom checks our accounts online at least once a day so he can report it right away if we’re ever ripped off. The rest is up to us.

For years I blamed myself for having a hard time attracting women I was attracted to and having a hard time not attracting those I wasn’t. But online experiences have taught me that it isn’t me and I shouldn’t take it so personally even if it has a way of making me feel downright ugly as hell at times. I think in reality it’s more a case of that I turn off the attractive women than that I attract the unattractive ones. I can’t help the way I look, though. I’ve never been what most lesbians consider attractive and I never will be. But I realize it isn’t anything about me personally - the way I look or the things I say - that attracts the uglies and the not all there. The fact is that they will reach out to anyone. And because I’m as nice as I am a bitch, these people know they can come to me with their sob stories because they know I’ll at least listen and that I’ve probably been there before myself. So yeah, I’m one of the “uglies” according to most of the better-looking lesbians and bisexuals, but I realize that I don’t quite have the talent I once thought I had for attracting what I myself consider less than attractive. They will reach out to anyone who gives them the time of day.

I don’t know why but for some reason it cracked me up when Nane told me my blog background was driving her crazy, LOL. I threw on something that isn’t animated for now. Then she won’t have to “read between the swirls.” hahaha

Got a kick out of how she deleted some unwanted comments from Dieter on a wall photo she posted. The photo showed 3 men, one Muslim, one gay, one black. “Labels are for clothes,” it said, then Dieter came in saying that the lunatics should be labeled while Nane insisted no one should be labeled, etc. Anyway, I always thought the old bastard was nothing but an argumentative, lonely old man with nothing better to do. Back when he added me he did nothing but complain about almost everything I posted. I was ready to tell him to just shut up or fuck off, but then he deleted me after rudely jumping down my throat for reasons I still don’t get. Perhaps there was a touch of Molly in the guy, IDK.

Ok, Miss Ugly to the Women but Cute to the Guys is going to go see if she can get online long enough to post this.

MONDAY, JULY 2, 2012 I can’t get online right now so I’ll post this when I can. I can’t wait to move! Not just for a bigger place with hopefully no overnight barking, but I am so, so sick of not being able to get online half the time, the slow connection, etc. Lately, they like to pick on us around midnight, though it’s erratic at all times. You just never know. Sometimes it hangs on for hours, then it’s in and out and in and out.

Calling AT&T and bitching about it is a complete waste of time because after being on hold for two hours you find that AT&T doesn’t give a shit whether or not you can get online because they know your only choice around here is them or nothing. So they’re not going to be in any hurry to give a shit about customers till they get competition in the area.

Maybe I will use the remainder of our time here to get back into my writing. I don’t need to be online to write, work out, do housekeeping, or read, though I do have to have a connection long enough to get books onto my Kindle.

Just checked to see if I can post this and I can’t. sighs I’ll go work out a bit, then try again later.

Later…

I probably shouldn’t bother making another post today with the connection cutting in and out, but I’ll give it a try.

I managed to upload a few hundred pics on MO to use in posts. That way I don’t have to upload individually, and if they’re having a problem with that at the time it won’t matter because I’ll already have tons of pics to grab for decorating posts. Despite having over 500 pics I’ve still only used 7% of my space. I really prefer to upload than to copy from Photobucket so people don’t get that ugly gray square that says, “Someone’s been popular this month! Upgrade to Pro now.” That’s what would happen when my monthly band usage got sucked up. The more I write, the more followers I seem to get.

Nothing’s changed as far as our shitty connection goes, so I’m still not going to do any more uploading of pics or old journals unless I get really, really bored, and that doesn’t happen very often. I’d love to go watch a movie now, but I don’t want to even do that till we get moved, knowing it’s hit or miss.

Bunny Nose wasn’t entered into the last NaNo contest because her author didn’t write enough words to her story, so maybe in August when they have their next contest.

Before it got dark last night we were up to two yellow jackets in the trap. Wonder how many we’ll catch today. I also wonder when I’m going to be tired. I ended up taking an unexpected nap last night for 2-3 hours. I don’t know why. I wasn’t tired and I didn’t take anything that causes drowsiness like some allergy pills can.

I guess I’ll go have a bite to eat now. Why not? Controlling my weight seems to be getting harder and harder by the minute anyway, and that hour-long workout sure worked up my appetite right along with my muscles.

Later…

Tom didn’t work any OT today and I could’ve sworn I had a dream with Nane in it but can’t remember it. I guess that means it wasn’t overly good or bad because then I would remember it for sure.

I hope it won’t be much longer before we get moved. It seems I spend too much of my life waiting for things. The move is holding things up too, like getting new rats and me seeing a dentist. I just hate to get a dentist here in Auburn only to find out we end up in Roseville. Or maybe Folsom or Citrus Heights. I just don’t want to get started with one dentist, and then have to transfer to another one. The salt and baking soda concoction is really helping in the meantime.

Tom will have Wednesday off cuz of the holiday so we just may finally get to use our IHOP GC early that morning before it gets crowded.

The weather’s been hot, dry as a bone, and the pain in the back of my left hand is really starting to piss the shit out of me. So is my weight. It’s getting out of hand again. If upping the diet and exercise doesn’t help it, I don’t know what else I can do. Sit back helplessly and watch the scale climb?

It’s still weird that I can’t just pick up the phone and call my dad. It’s like a part of my mind can’t accept that I’m never going to see or talk to him again, though I do accept it at the same time. Does that make any sense?

I’m still torn where my mother’s concerned, too. A part of me thinks I should call her since it’s been a month. Another part says, fuck it. Let the bitch worry and wonder about me. This is the woman who abused and then gave up on me as a kid, mother or not. sighs I don’t know what to do seeing that she also saved mine and Tom’s ass a few years ago, so yeah, fuck it. At least for now.

SUNDAY, JULY 1, 2012 It was so nice to be able to wake up again and check to see those who visited my blog while I slept. MO’s counter is totally messed up. I get way more visitors than it says I do.

Tom was able to find one of those bright, clear yellow traps for yellow jackets and already we caught one whereas the other wooden one with the strip of yellow around it that’s faded away never caught a single one. It makes for a pretty decorative piece alone if you like bright colors as I do.

MO’s back to not letting some of us upload pics. Oh, so they’re not going to fix the problem. Ok, I’ll link to my Photobucket pics and just hope Molly’s never as obsessed with me as she used to be so she doesn’t get overly click-happy and suck up my monthly bandwidth.

I hadn’t even been up an hour when I’d already heard Jesse on the motorcycle 3 times. I hate knowing when my neighbors are home or not. I shouldn’t have to know this. But he’s out right now, so I guess he’ll zoom back in anytime now and that’ll be it for the night. Since it’s Sunday night I should have the blessing of being able to watch a movie without the barking in the background (assuming I can stay online long enough to do so). But like I said before, if we still have to have one of those here-they-come-and-there-they-go neighbors at 200’, then we might as well not worry if they’re just 2’ away. I will, however, totally scream if we end up next to someone with a motorcycle or a loud car stereo. Technically there’s nothing that says we can’t just because it’ll be an adult community. They may own the park or the community itself, but they don’t own the roads.

[rianafying]

dear diary

i haven’t written in here in a while partly because i’ve been busy, partly because i’ve been talking to actual people, partly because i’ve been talking to chatgpt (it talks back to me), party because i’ve been writing in my notes app (i don’t have to even briefly think about what i can and cannot reveal about my life such as names of people or the stories and details of my life). but i feel like venting here fulfils a different need than doing all those other things. oh and i’ve also been using this app called clarity that’s mostly free and lets you do mood check ins and guided thought analysis journal and gratitude journal and guided breathing exercises (i can never spell this word right the first time) and an episode of meditation. there’s more stuff behind a paywall but i’m happy with the free stuff for now. that said, i have not been very happy lately. i haven’t been very productive lately, the way that i was for a brief period before when i signed myself up for anything and everything and now it’s all a bit too much. there’s this class im doing that has become a little too important to me, and the desire to do a perfect assignment paralyses me, keeping me from doing an assignment at all. i had to get a week long extension and im really disappointed in myself, and i’ve let down my favourite teacher. but i guess life goes on. right now it’s 5am and i’ve been up all night trying to clean my appartment (i will never not lose my mind about this and complain incessantly). anyway i’m just rlly scared and anxious because cleaning really stresses me out and after 5 hours of intense cleaning it barely looks like i’ve done anything. im thinking i should take my third and fourth painkiller of the day to combat my neck and shoulder pain from anxiety and lack of sleep. i have to remember a few things: 1) when cleaning, it doesn’t look clean until the last bit which is to dump things into boxes, what i mean is, the room doesn’t start to look until im 90% through the process. i would say at the moment im 30% in. another 30% would be the bathroom, 20% for folding and sorting clothes, 10% vacuuming/scrubbing floor, 10% throwing the bags out. 2) gamifying the process makes it more bearable for my adhd brain, and other things like filming a timelapse of me cleaning, and having a video on the side (i’ve been watching anthony padilla interview people, and he’s such a good host). 3)it’s not the end of the world, the worst case scenario is that my family loses respect for me, which they have very little of anyway, so it’s not much of a difference. 4) even though it’s really hard, i’ve done it before and i can do it again.

i’m thinking i might have to go to woolies or aldi in the morning to get some power cleaning sprays and bleach. but that’s so exhausting. also, i wanted to treat them to my favourite halal food which is also affordable but im too broke and overwhelmed at the moment to do anything at all other than trying to get my place cleaned. i’m scared that i’ll run out of time and they’ll be here and they’ll be horrified. but yeah. i’m also rlly hungry and should get something to eat and take a shower. i don’t have enough time. i’m so sleepy and tired. but this is my fault. i can’t do things until it’s too late.

i think the most important thing is to remind myself that nothing is actually wrong. and it’s going to be okay. i can power through this. nothing actually bad is going to happen to be from anxiety. it’s just anxiety. a few hours of cleaning is enough to get my tiny studio apartment into shape. regardless of how messy/dirty it is. my strategy rn is to shove stuff into boxes. i can deal with it all later. however bad it may feel right now, i am not going to actually die from anxiety.

[bradleymarshall]

It’s like my only option in life is to be rich

I can’t afford a maid

Dishwasher atm is fine

I’ll buy heaps of pans and plates and just stack the dishwasher until it’s full to wash

Won’t touch a plate in my life

Unless I have to

Not every day though

Maid can do that eventually

Just a ridiculous existence

How can I even relate to anyone at all

My experiences are so fucking skewed and left of centre I can’t even explain to a counseller how I feel

You know

I can’t wash the dishes or use a shower

Oh wtf

Yeah I don’t eat anything from any restaurant

Like people ask me

How do you live

I don’t even know

The only way through is to be rich

Then I can afford 50,000 to casually hook up my whole house to bore water

And to cancel my students cause I don’t teach them

They attend my school of music

And I just fly anywhere the fuck I want just doing podcasts

And being openly gay

And making content

If I was rich

I could have a studio

Where I record music

Have green screens

Have a room for props

I wouldn’t have to have my bedroom full of equipment

I could actually make it a bedroom to film scenes in that I don’t have to rearrange every time I film

How the fuck is anyone supposed to relate to me as a genuine connection

Jordan or Adam

Short of casual sex

It’s a miracle anyone can be attracted to me given how fucked up everything is

If I was rich

I could install bore water across my whole house inside a faraday house cage

And then I could shower like everyone else

And wash my hands without fear

Like I need to be rich enough to hire a maid before my parents die

Like how the fuck

I can’t even washes dishes without my fingers falling off

How pathetic

I can put the dishes in the dishwasher

But the pan

I need to be able to wash the pan without touching the soap

It’s just ridiculous

Too hard basket

Just buy 7 pans haha

And hire a cleaner for an hour for 1 hour a week to fucking do everything

Idk everything is just a massive head fuck

Philippines

It’s all there

Permanent maid

Showers

Bore Water

Maybe when I’m rich I’ll just fly Adam to the Phillipines where he can’t escape my love island

But by then I’ll be rich enough to have it in my house in Melbourne

Even the fucking heater is a headfuck

Elaine likes it on

I want it off

But I don’t want to live alone

So what

Solution: have an illusion gas fireplace where the heat isn’t dry? Can there even be a humid heat

Just fucking have a jet engine humidifier going so the whole house feels like it’s on the equator

Move to Queensland

Lose all my contacts here

Crown Maria

They don’t even know im gay

Such a fucking headache

Idk how many millions id have to spend to make it all work eventually

I definitely think my fingers are so bad because of the heater and dish washing

It’s just drying them out so much

Idk what to do

Even a counseller would be like

Idk bro

Doctors and counsellers are all useless haha

It’s too specific

A problem

Bore water

Use boiling water to wash the pan

Only use soap at the end once already clean

Use a long sponge with a handle so there’s no contact

I’m like a fucking retard boy in the bubble

I may as well should sleep in glass oxygen like MJ

My life’s a literal punch line to a joke

Gay retard with everything falling apart from skin to life

And the only thing holding him together is his intj Bruce Wayne brain

If not, he’d most likely be dead

Like dazelle

How many years will it take

Fucking 5?

Until I push this shit up hill

I need to just spend every day behind a computer editing

I promise to never get a normal job

Even that masters of teaching position I’ll fuck off

But idk

Maybe I’ll want to teach down the track

Vcass sounds so fun to teach at idk

Not a luxury life though

How is it

Out of all the people that I’ve seen in my life

Only you, Jasmine,

Seem to stay

And that’s it out of everyone

Everyone

Is it really that hard to stay in contact with people

Xavier, Belle, Tim smith my vocal coach, Benjamin Martin, it’s like, people come and go like the wind. There’s barely any constants but yourself. Life is a horrible tragic experience if you just look around

That song glimpses is so true

It’s only the glimpses of happiness among the oceans of bullshit that make it worth it remotely

Otherwise he “would kill my self today”

Amen

To that

Is the only way people can stay close to me is if they had a romantic sexual attraction to me initially

I wonder

Is there anyone platonic who stayed with me

Xavier

I don’t trust

Is there anyone?

lol

I sound like I’m having a full scale mental break Down again but I’m just venting

“If I have peace, let it last beyond the day”

I want to write a song like that

It’s my favourite song

I come back to it every few months

Him post Malone and Reagan beam haha

I haven’t read a book in so long cause I fear I don’t have time to escape anymore

I’m like those are the things you can do in old age when no one no longer cares for your looks

You know all this is selfish in a way

Cause I talk to you

Cause I feel like my story is so complex the counseller won’t have time in an hour to understand wtf is going on so it’s a waste of time unless I just present one problem to him

But I don’t even know what problem to present first. At least you know everything.

I just feel shithouse for so long now. And now ever since a few weeks back I feel even more shithouse haha

At least I’ve found peace making content with Jasmine laughing there

I love those moments in transit between places where you’re forced to waste time

Like on a plane or on a train

It’s like those long trips

Even to my gigs

Are my breath of fresh air where there’s a few hours up my sleeve I can afford to waste time and I can relax.

It’s like when I’m at home, I’m just sprinting as fast as I can every second, and it’s like I’ve hit a wall and I’m so exhausted. And everything is burning up at the same time, like how can I feel so attracted to boys and also afraid at the same time. wtf is going on

Maybe its only half gay

Maybe the other half is spiritual and intellectual height, which makes you feel lonely among everyone else

Why I can only seem to keep you and jasmine

[anonymous-dentist]

If it counts for anything, I’m no stranger to anxiety and stress and burnout. I have anxiety disorders, I know some ways to help manage anxiety and stress.

These won’t work for everyone, but here’s what I’ve been told by doctors I’ve been to, and here’s what I’ve figured out by myself over my life:

Cold water will shock your body, so cold showers or even a splash of cold water on your face will take your mind off of the Bad for even just a moment

Find ways to try and distract yourself. I personally exercise in the mornings to shake off the Morning Bad, and I like cooking my own meals to distract myself from the Waiting Bad

Exercise itself has been shown to release stress. There are plenty of exercise routines for people of all body types and abilities. Personally, I do that Ring Fit game, but I also take walks around the neighborhood, play with my family’s dogs, clean the house. There are exercise videos all over the place online, even for exercises you can do while sitting if you aren’t able to stand for long periods of time

Go outside. Even if you’re just going out to sit on your porch, that’s fresh air and sunlight. And sunlight is important! Getting 10 minutes of sunlight a day actually helps you sleep! Seeing nature will remind you of what really matters: yourself, and the world around you

Cry. Crying isn’t embarrassing! It’s important! If you feel like you need to cry, go somewhere private and just cry. Same goes for screaming, though I recommend screaming into a pillow if only for your ears’ sakes

Try and get into a relaxing hobby of some kind. It’s easier to take out your stress doing those than you’d think. Like, if you bake like I do, it’s really satisfying to punch the shit out of your bread dough.

This goes double for if you find a podcast or a long video to distract your brain with while you’re doing your relaxing hobby. My sister crochets very angrily and she catches up on Vinesauce vods as she does so

If you’re having trouble sleeping because of anxiety, legit what you need to do is just tire yourself out. If you aren’t asleep after 20 minutes, get out of bed and do something until you’re tired again. Eventually, your brain will just. Shut off.

But if that’s a bit too hard, which it sometimes can be!, sometimes all you need is something to fill your brain with that isn’t your own thoughts. White noise is great for that, or brown noise, or classical music, or just anything that brings you comfort. When I have bad anxiety spells, I can’t sleep unless I have something filling the back of my brain up

If you can find these affordably, weighted blankets and sleep eye masks are GREAT! My weighted blanket is about 25 pounds and, after being put on it by my old therapist, I’ve legit gotten better sleep than I have in my life. I got my eye mask from 5 Below, but they can easily be ordered online

Coloring!!! It might sound stupid, but there’s a reason why there are so many adult coloring books on the market rn. It’s just relaxing. Put on some music and color if you’re having a Bad Moment

Get a journal or a self care app or a something you can vent in and think in and release your thoughts into. I have a physical journal, and I have this self care app called Finch that’s completely free and gives you a little bird to take care of in exchange for you doing things like taking meds, eating breakfast, or even just getting out of bed.

Take comfort in familiar things. They’re comforting for a reason. Just make sure they aren’t related to the thing that’s giving you anxiety, that’s counterproductive

And, most importantly:

Have a support network you can talk to when it’s Bad-Bad. Your family, your personal friends. People you know IRL. Actual therapists if you can afford them. A support group. Nobody you don’t absolutely 100% trust. Support groups are vital. Even if it’s just one person to start with, that’s one more person besides yourself to hear you think, and they can usually help sort your brain out

I hope at least some of these ideas can help. There are thousands of anxiety-relieving tips online, and there are even more in books at your local library.

It’ll get better. Anxiety, despite what you may feel like right now, is not a forever thing. It’s terrifying, but it’s also just as temporary as any other thought process. It comes and goes, but it is not eternal.

My heart goes out to every single member of the Quackity Studios team, both former and current, that have had their lives ruined due to the negligent and abusive behavior of their higher-ups. I’m heartbroken for you both as a fellow creative and as a human being with a goddamn moral backbone. The lack of respect I’ve seen accounts of over the past several weeks appalls me, and that’s what this whole thing boils down to. Respect.

Respect has not been given to Quackity Studios employees. No communication, no professionalism. Working conditions that are illegal in several countries. Lack of accountability and action. The employees deserve better than to have their hard work and their passion and love for the project wasted working for people who just don’t seem to give a damn.

If there are any Quackity Studios employees following me who haven’t spoken out of fear or because of that freaky bogus NDA, just know that it will get better. You are all massively talented individuals and you WILL get that big break you’ve been waiting for, I just know it!!

There isn’t much the rest of us can do but support the admins during this time, but I wish you all the best in the world. You are worth so much more than what you have gotten, and your minds are beautiful. Don’t let the burnout and stress get to you. For this, just like everything else, is just a moment in time. It’ll be better soon, and we’ll all be supporting you until soon happens.

[rpmemes-galore]

kitchen nightmares, uncensored ... sentence starters

tw: swearing. lots of swearing

“Bloody hell.”

“I speak feline.”

“I think it’s all good.”

“You’re deluding yourself.”

“I am also shitting myself.”

“You've got the part, relax.”

“It looks like a cremated turd.“

“Forgive me; they have sinned.“

“How fucking depressing is that?”

“I just won that one. I won that one.“

“I wouldn't trust you running a bath.”

“Right now, you've won jack fucking shit!“

“I can't believe you'd be so fucking polite.”

“I’m not going to blow smoke up your ass.”

“My Gran could do better, and she's dead!“

“Seafood crêpe? Yeah... that's seafood crap.“

“It took everything in me not to just, freak out.“

“How is that missed? How is that overlooked?“

“You know what? I'm done. No more chances.“

“That's to get them in the mood to get married.“

“You're overlooking extremely important things!“

“You’re going to have to excuse my arrogance.”

“You don’t hand me raw food in my dining room.”

“Oh, come on, this hasn't been cleaned in years.“

“I'm ready. I'm ready to tear it down and start over.“

“I'm not disrespecting you. I'm telling you the truth.“

“You think I'm mad? I'm fucking embarrassed, now.“

“I think pressure’s healthy, and very few can handle it.“

“How long has that been staying outside for? Truthfully.“

“What, are you saying; are you trying to say something?“

“I've never met an individual that's so full of shit in all my life.“

“This is ten thousand times worse than I thought it would be.“

“You can’t just stick your head back in the sand and ignore it.”

“I've got to get some air before I do something I really regret.“

“Hate it. How can you be positive about something you hate?“

“Time to drag me through the mud some more. It is what it is.“

“There’s enough garlic in here to kill every vampire in Europe.“

“Now, unfortunately, I can’t afford to fuck off and die right now.”

“You're so full of fucking shit that you'd make a great politician.“

“Right now, I'd rather eat poodle shit than put that in my mouth.”

“I was hoping that this would be my launching pad for my name.“

“What have I got to show? I'll tell you what I've got to show. Pride!”

“Fresh frozen? There's no such thing! It's either fresh or it's frozen.“

“Off to a bad start unfortunately. It's like somebody's pissed in my soup.“

“I'll wait, but the thing is I don't want you to stick it back in a microwave.“

“What do you want me to do, stand here and start crying or something?“

“I'm not going to stand there and argue with you. You can have that! Okay?“

“Oh my god. I've never, ever, ever seen anything quite extraordinary as that.“

“Just... this is what I'm talking about, kid. You've got to cut the fucking bullshit.“

“You haven't got fucking one right so far! How the fuck can you think about two?”

“I’m fucking pissed off and I’m upset at the kind of shit that I just discovered in there.“

“You're jumping up and down like a big fucking baboon and ‘Ho, ho! It's good! Whoo!’“

“That is extremely unacceptable, dangerous. People could get extremely sick with that.“

“This shit is the most disgusting fucking bought-in crap I've ever tasted in my entire life.“

“He was giving me shit. I gave it back to him, and he was like, ‘Uh, yeah whatever’, and-”

“If you're convinced in your mind that this is going to work, you're beyond reach, you know that?“

“Do you work for a microwave company? You know so much about microwaves. Unbelievable.”

“I didn't expect this. I don't think it could get worse, I don't even know what could make it worse at this point.“

“I'm trying to move forward, I'm trying to get going, but every time I put my foot on the ladder, I get knocked back.”

[prismartist]

a medium rare occurrence

part 6 (final) of To break bread, the series about soulbounds and food.

Ao3

–––

“Why don’t you eat?” Scott asks during one of their brief, very painful encounters.

Pearl gives Scott an amused look. “What do you mean? Of course I eat.”

“Yeah, but not enough. You know how often I get so weak from hunger pangs?”

“Of course I do!” Pearl giggles. “I’m the one causing them!”

“You’re really trying to get us killed, huh,” he bemoans.

“Sure am!”

Scott gives a hard, disparaged look that lasts a second too long, then walks off, snow trailing from his jacket. Pearl can’t shake the feeling that he’s up to something.

Pearl’s never been the most conservative of people, at least in this world. Everyone knows it. Her soulmate knows it. She herself even knows it. 

Still, she’s aware that living off the land and a few stalks of wheat isn’t ideal. She can barely make half a stack of bread every day—which starts to get stale after a while—and any animals are few and far between. Even the meat is mostly unseasoned, half-raw and tasteless on her tongue, which is numb from the snow most of the time. 

But she knows Scott can feel the frequent pangs of hunger, and she takes whatever comfort she can get from that fact.

She climbs up her tower after a long day out doing, well, the usual torture and menacing. When she pops her head up, gasping as if coming up for air, there’s a sign and chest waiting for her. 

Pearl freezes, bracing herself for a threat of some sort. Another Red message wouldn’t be much of a surprise. She stands, approaches it cautiously, until she reads the small script written neatly in cyan dye. 

Saw you only had wheat. Thought you might want better saturation. Please eat. xoxo, ur ex.

Inside the chest is a paper bag full of beef steak, still warm. Seasoned and marinated too, judging by the scent. It fills Pearl’s brain and makes her mouth water to the brim. There’s an urge, the unhinged side of her that’s snapped since the beginning, to just dive in and devour the whole bag then and there. Instead she takes a deep breath and a piece of paper from her inventory—clean, she thinks, hopefully—and uses it to grip one of the steaks. In another world she might’ve put it on a plate, enjoyed it with carrots and potatoes and rice, but one can’t really afford any pleasantries. 

She starts to bring it to her lips, but halts. Does she really want to accept Scott’s gift? A few hours ago they were staring each other in the face as snow dug into their skin. She has half a mind to refuse, to chuck all of it to Tilly and let her and her soulmate starve. 

But her stomach growls like her wolves, and oh god, there's seasoning on this.

So Pearl holds the steak up to her face, breathes in the scent once more; it hits her like a truck this time. She bites off a chunk and lets out a satisfying groan, the juice running down her fingers and chin.

It’s the best thing she’s had in weeks.

–––

Scott smiles as the taste of his own cooking floods his tongue, and the annoying hunger dissipates in his stomach.

“Thank god,” he mutters to himself, amused at the overwhelming umami. She must be devouring it. That’s on brand for her.

There’s a knock at the door, a rhythm only Scott would recognize. “Come in, Cleo.”

Cleo walks in, holding a leather bag. “Heeyyy.”

“Hiya.” Scott eyes the bag curiously. “What you got there?”

“Gift from an ex.” They walk over to him, untying the string. “Had a surprisingly lovely bonding experience with him.”

Scott raises his brows. “Is that so?”

“That is indeed so. But don’t tell him that.” They open the mouth and tilt it so Scott can see the loaf of bread within, cut in half and filled with pulled beef. “Quite yummy stuff. I dunno what he put in the marinade, but whatever it is, it’s good.”

“A date with your divorced soulbound? Must be a night of miracles.”

“Midnight magic, I guess.” Cleo shrugs, then scrunches closed the mouth and hands the bag to Scott. “How’s your kind-of offering to your maniac of an ex?”

Scott takes the bag. “It’s going well, actually. I currently feel like I’m stuffing my mouth with meat.”

Cleo giggles. “Lucky you.”

“I know.”

“Well, that ought to last you two for the next couple days.”

“God, I hope, because I know she’s not going to eat anything after this.”

Cleo gives an amused smile, then turns. “Well, I best be off. Have fun with your ex.”

“I will. Night, Cleo.”

“Goodnight, Scott.”

They shut the door behind them, and Scott lays down, enjoying the taste of steak. He waits for Pearl to finish his gift before he drifts off, feeling sleep take them over at the same time.

[palms-upturned]

I sometimes get sad when I see articles/posts about “how to do x when you’re disabled/chronically ill.” I don’t begrudge ppl for those kinds of posts, mind u, it’s touching how spoonies take time and energy out of their day to help each other and share resources. But I get sad thinking about how the ideal way to deal with having to wash dishes during a pain flareup, or cooking when you’re feeling sick and tired, etc is: have someone else help you/do it for you.

When I was really, really sick and anemic in 2020, I could not physically bathe myself for a while. And when I finally could, a shower would take all the strength I had for the entire day. I sort of just… lived with that. Getting a shower stool helped with reducing the risk of fainting and generally with my stamina, but it was still exhausting every time for a long time. There are ways someone can make it a little easier: the stool, using a scrubber with a handle so you can bathe without moving as much or bending over, taking lukewarm showers rather than hot ones, etc. There are also ways you can get clean when you can’t shower, like sink baths and dry shampoo. But the truth is that I would have been able to bathe more often and generally have more strength throughout the day if someone had helped me.

I didn’t live alone at the time, but I didn’t have the kind of relationship with the people living with me where I would have been able to ask for something like a sponge bath without feeling embarrassed and vulnerable. And no one thought of these things without my asking for it, because the truth is we don’t really know how to take care of our sick. Not individually, and not as a community.

Disability and illness are so isolating. It’s difficult to keep up relationships when you aren’t able to go out and see people, or don’t have the energy for long conversations, or just feel awkward and embarrassed when the answer to “how are you?” is always “bad.” Not to mention how financially draining it is to be disabled/sick. How hard is it for us to keep up friendships when we aren’t able to invite friends out and say, “it’s on me?” Or can’t offer a ride? Or can’t financially or even physically afford to leave the house? Without close friends or neighbors to check in on us, and without being able to afford home care professionals, or even be able to trust said professionals to always treat us with dignity and kindness, who does that leave to care for us when we’re not able to care for ourselves? And what happens if, even when we have lots of close friends nearby, they don’t know how to care for sick people, or don’t feel inclined to bc it’s not their business or their problem?

We end up being almost entirely dependent on whoever lives with us for help (if anyone does at all) rather than having a real support network or community. Isolation not only adds a layer of pain, but also vulnerability. Independence means wearing ourselves to the bone or emptying out wallets just to be able to eat a decent meal. Depending on family or a spouse/partner means being almost entirely at their mercy, putting us at high risk of being abused or at the very least casually dehumanized. People consider it burdensome to have to help someone with their cooking, or housework, or personal grooming, or remembering their medications, or any other care needs. So the burden falls on us to pass along tips on what to do when you’re having a migraine attack and can barely even stand to keep your eyes open, but you still have to make yourself something to eat. Because that’s the reality we live with, and that we’ve learned to make do with. And because those of us who understand each other’s needs best and most wish we could do things to help each other are the ones who don’t have money or strength to spare.

When you see resource posts about how to cope with disability, by all means share them, but I hope you will also consider it a reminder to check up on your friends, family, neighbors, coworkers, etc and see if there are any needs in your little circle that you can help meet. Or maybe research some things like how to help a sick person bathe, or what foods are good to eat when you’re dealing with certain symptoms, or how to make your home wheelchair accessible. Since we all get sick and all of us at some point will most likely become disabled in some way, you’re going to need this information at some point in your life anyway. Why not now? And why not use it to take care of people in your sphere of influence?

When I hurt my back recently, a coworker drove all the way to my house to drop off freshly picked cherry tomatoes from her garden just to give me something nice to eat and make me feel cared for. Another coworker spent their ten minute break driving me from my workplace to a restaurant in the same complex just to spare me a five minute walk when I was tired and aching. When I was institutionalized for suicidal thoughts and the hospital held me for 30 hours past when I was told I would be released, my whole family drove to come demand my release, and I got to go home. When I was sick and my bank account was overdrawn, friends occasionally sent me meals. Just today, a friend bought me a pill organizer to help me be more regular with my medication routine. No man is an island. We’ve got to do this together.